#we just say hey smooth skin to each other back and forth all the time now

[sugar-and-spite13]

Smooth skin? I think you mean smooth brain.

[covetyou]

just a taste

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: cuck!Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) chapter warnings: daddy kink, cuckolding, creampie, cum eating, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, male masturbation, one single pussy slap, rimming if you squint, pet names (baby, sweetheart), dd/lg vibes, established relationship, mention of original male character. word count: 2.5k summary: Joel helps you clean up a mess.

A/N: This has taken me so long to write beyond the dialogue because it's all been so distracting that I've had to stop myself and go have breaks, but then I come back and write more horny shit for parts I didn't even intend to write. cuck!Joel is something else.

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You're still floating on cloud nine when the bed dips beside you. A kiss is placed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth. You lick your lips - you can still taste him on your tongue.

"Wake up, baby. Daddy's home."

You sigh and stretch, arching your body into a bow as you pull yourself from your doze, the crumpled sheet falling to your waist as you turn to greet Joel. His hair is mussed from running his fingers through it all day, and his eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you.

"Hey, baby," he whispers, tugging the sheet further off your body. "Just look at my pretty girl."

"Hi Daddy. I missed you," you breathe, softly kissing him, that lingering taste still on your tongue.

A rough hand smooths your hair back from your face before cascading down your shoulder, over the softness of your breast and down between your legs to cup your damp pussy through your panties.

He traces soft kisses over your shoulder, your collarbone. "You have a good day?" The ghost of his words flutters over your skin, pebbling your nipples before he takes one into his mouth, sucking lightly as you melt into his touch.

You smile and nod lazily at him. You had the best day. "Mhm."

He releases from you with a pop. "You did?" He pushes softly against your mound, cupping you more firmly before rubbing his fingers from side to side across the crotch of your panties.

You wiggle your hips away from him, whining in discomfort.

"What is it? What's wrong," he says, faux concern pulling at his brows.

"My panties are all messy, Daddy," you pout, biting your bottom lip as you look at him through your lashes.

"And why's that, sweetheart?"

He keeps rubbing, his hand moving back and forth now across the damp fabric, smearing any mess into your skin with each movement and forcing you to stifle a moan.

"I don't know."

"Hm, I think we both know why your panties are messy, baby."

He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for your confession. You bite it back and try to look away, his dark eyes boring holes into your skull, seeing right through you. He taps a finger to your cheek with his other hand, his usual sign for you to look at him. You obey. Of course you do, you always do.

"Did you have a friend over to play today?"

"No," you pout again.

slap

His broad hand claps dully against your clothed pussy, all noise and no sting. Still, it makes you gasp as the buzz shoots through your cunt straight to your sleep addled brain.

"Don't lie to me baby."

"Andrew came over to play."

"And did you play down here?" He tickles his fingers lightly over your entrance through your panties, making you squirm.

"No." This time you can't keep back the smile that pulls across your face as you say it. This was your, and you suspected his, favorite game.

He rolls his eyes at you, dragging his tongue across his teeth. He knew when you were lying and, most of all, he knew when you wanted him to know you were lying.

"Let's have a look then shall we."

He peels your sticky panties from your slick pussy, pulling them down to your knees. He looks at your glistening cunt, then to you. He's clearly unimpressed. "Think I'm gonna need a better look."

Rough hands smooth down your soft thighs, meeting at their apex and digging his fingers lightly into your flesh. Large thumbs slide up the side of your pussy and pull you open, exposing you to his gaze. The action makes you clench, pushing a trickle of milky white out from your hole and down the valley of your ass, staining Joel's bed below.

"Baby," he says, a warning tone in his voice. "I think you've been lying to me."

He traces another trickle with his finger, catching it before it can drop down to his sheets. He inspects it, before putting it in his mouth to taste. He doesn't even bother to hide his moan as he suckles on his own finger.

"I think we both know why your pussy is messy, baby. You and Andrew played with each other down here, didn't you?" He slides one thick finger all the way into you with ease and you gasp.

"Yes, Daddy."

"I'm not mad at you, baby," he says as he begins to pump his digit in and out of you, coating his finger in the clear slick if your pussy and the creamy white of your playmates spend. "I just don't like you lying to me."

His finger hooks up into you, making you moan and curl your toes, back arching from the bed.

"You have fun with Andrew?" he mutters, smiling softly, a fondness in his eyes kept only for you as he strokes your thighs.

"Mhm."

"He make you come?"

You giggle at the memory of the many times Andrew had made you come that day. "Yes Daddy."

He shakes his head at you, trying, and failing, to hide a grin by biting the inside of his cheek. This was definitely his favorite game.

"He came too, huh? Right in here?" He pushes his finger into you as deep as he can, curling it upward to hit a spot that makes you groan.

He pulls his finger out without warning, watching your hole flutter in his absence, cum coating his finger and dripping out of you once again.

"I know. There's so much in here baby, he made a real mess o' you. Lemme get this pussy cleaned up." For anyone else, this might have meant grabbing a wet wash cloth or hopping in the shower. But not for Joel. Instead, he slides his finger into his mouth, sucking it clean, and pulls your ruined panties off the rest of the way, using both hands to push your thighs wide as he leans down to lick a thick stripe through your swollen folds.

You squirm, jerking your hips from his grip. "Mnnngh, it's sensitive," you whine.

"Do you want Daddy to stop?" he says, nipping and licking at your inner thighs. Andrew's cum had spilled from you and smeared on them earlier, drying and making them sticky before you'd slipped your panties back on to keep in the rest. Joel doesn't mind, he never does, and he continues to nibble at your skin, tasting the combined release of you and another man.

You look down at him and pout. Of course you didn't want him to stop, his tongue on your pussy was the best feeling in the world, even when it made you twitch.

"Didn't think so, baby. You always want your Daddy, don't you?"

"Always, Daddy," you sigh, practically melt into the bed at his words. Even when you were being filled by someone else, you could never stop thinking about Joel - how much he would love to be there, watching you, listening to your moans, tasting you.

"I'll be gentle," he croons, stroking your thighs with his rough finger tips. "She's so sensitive, huh?"

He keeps his word, going back to lapping at you softly, small licks all over your pussy, suckling at the skin, cleaning you of the evidence of your earlier activities. He presses soft kisses back to your clit, before holding you open, pulling back your hood and lapping directly at your over sensitive nub.

"Keep still for Daddy."

It is impossible to keep still.

"Oh, fu-Daddy," you moan, reaching down to grab at his shaggy mess of hair between your legs. He looks blissful, his eyes almost closed as his mouth engulfs your clit. His tongue laps at it in broad strokes, desperate to bring you to orgasm and force more cum from your tender hole.

You were so oversensitive, so tender, that when he brings a finger back to circle the outer rim of your pussy, you can already feel your release barrelling into you. You whine, high pitched as you come, a feeble little thing in the grand scheme of things, hips gyrating uncontrollably into his face as you tug on his hair.

"Ohhhh."

Joel wastes no time unlatching from your clit and plunging his tongue into your twitching hole. He swallows heavily after each deep lick, swallowing down Andrew's cum as some of the remnants pulse out of you. His tongue teases down beyond your hole, to the crevasse of your ass, flicking over your asshole briefly to collect any drops from earlier as he teases a finger back into your cunt, dragging gently at your walls to pull more cum from you before sucking it off of his finger. He repeats the action, groaning with each taste of another mans cum off of himself.

"Open up," he says, sticking his finger deep in you and dragging it around your walls to collect as much of your slick as he can. You do as he says, letting your jaw fall open as you stick out your tongue, eager to add to the taste still held in your mouth. "Good girl. If you make a mess you gotta help clean it up."

You watch dumbly as he pulls the finger from your dripping cunt and sits up to reach and slide it between your lips. You suckle on the digit, swirling your tongue around it to taste the salty tang of your used pussy. When he removes his finger his mouth quickly finds yours, tongue lapping at your own. You can taste the same salty sweet flavor on his lips, and you reach up to hold him, pulling him into you. You feel the painfully hard bulge in his jeans grind against your thigh.

"Such a good girl," he says into your mouth, biting at your bottom lip before entwining his tongue with yours. "He got your mouth all messy too, huh?" he says, and you nod in response, nose dragging up and down the side of his nose with the movement. "I can taste it."

He's shifting back from you then, pressing your body delicately, but firmly, away from himself. You try to protest as he pushes you down into the soft embrace of his bed, but he's soon slipping back down your body and between your legs, sliding two thick fingers through your folds and into your cunt. He slips them into you with ease, pumping slow and deep as he mouths all over your tender flesh, sucking your labia into his mouth and swirling his tongue over your clit with well practiced movements.

You convulse and twitch, bearing down on his fingers as pressure builds in you once more. You clench your muscles, wanting to grip his fingers and draw him into you, but the pulsing of your cunt does nothing but push more of your playmates creamy spend from your hole and into Joel's eager mouth. He keeps slurping at you, tongue plunging into your hole with his fingers to drink down every last drop that leaks out of you.

"Oh, fuck."

He yanks his jeans down, his thick cock painfully hard from being trapped in his jeans for so long. He's been thinking about this all day, sporting a semi for most of the afternoon as he dreamed of devouring another man's cum out of your pussy. He's so fucking close he can't help himself, and he grabs his cock as soon as it's free. He jerks himself frantically as he sloppily eats your pussy, hips rutting into his own fist and tongue desperately seeking out the creamy taste of your hole as it twitches.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mumbles into your cunt, squeezing his eyes closed, staving off his orgasm as long as he can. You feel his hot breath fan across your exposed pussy as he pants, groaning as he tastes you and moves his fist harder and harder, tighter and tighter up and down his length. You wish it was closer, you wish you could taste him, have his cum flood your mouth and erase the taste of anyone else from your tongue. You could ask for it, beg him, but his face buried in your your sensitive swollen folds is so much that the oversensitivity makes words impossible. All you can do is whine and moan, pushing your hips into his face, grinding into him as you babble the only word your brain can muster.

"Daddy, d-daddy, daaa- fu- daddy!"

You come again, legs clamping hard around his head, pulling him into you tighter when all you want to do is push him away, as sensitive as you are. He's surrounded by you, he probably can't breath, but his tongue doesn't relent and neither does his fist. You try to tug him off of you, hands pulling on his hair as you sob, but it does nothing but spur him on, nose pushing hard into you as he breathes deep one last time before his jaw goes slack and he releases a deep groan directly into your pussy, his cock throbbing in his hand. He comes long and hard, spurts of thick white cum coating his fist and the bed sheets as he comes all over himself and the bedsheets.

You go limp, thighs falling open and hand slipping from his hair, flopping uselessly down between your own legs as you gaze off into space, small whimpers still falling from your lips.

He rests his forehead on your mound, breathing deeply as he comes down from his own high. He places one last gentle kiss to your clit before placing his broad hand over you, rubbing gently, possessively.

"S'all clean now," he mumbles into you and you moan in agreement, even if you feel like more of a mess than when he started.

Joel stretches back, rolling from between your thighs to lay on his back, pulling you toward him as he goes. You curl into him, not bothering to avoid mess of his cum splattered on the sheets. The bed always needed changing after a playdate with Andrew anyway, a little more mess wouldn't hurt.

You card your fingers through his hair as his breath finally starts to steady. He takes a deep breath and shifts, his cock hanging limply against his belly now. This was your favorite thing in the world - curled up in a messy bed with Joel, both of you spent and satisfied.

"Saw Andrew as he was leaving. Told me you came six times today, baby, a new record," he finally says, looking up at you and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

You laugh, smiling as your mouth finds his. "I lost count after three."

"Mm," he sighs as you place gentle pecks all over his lips. "You'll have to thank him extra hard next time."

"I will, Daddy. Then I'll tell you all about it."

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[kelp-dreaming]

Talk Too Much

pairing: Kendall Roy x F!Reader

summary: You have a habit of rambling too much, Kendall finds a way to fix that.

genre: fluff!!!

word count: 1.3k

tags/warnings: swearing, that’s about it this time! 

a/n: based off the song “Talk Too Much” by COIN. Wrote this for a friend, probably not super show accurate since I haven’t watched it yet (i know i know) 

You never really knew when to shut up. You’ve always been a talker; a nervous talker, an excited rambler, an angry babbler, the list could go on. And typically people like the Roy’s did not like being interrupted, but somehow they decided you were alright. At least Kendall, your boss, (not that he ever really acted like it) let it slide. 

You sat fidgeting with your dress, pinching and plucking at all the folds in the fabric. 

“Oh this always happens with this type of fabric,” you pouted, smoothing your manicured nails against your waist. One thing that was always a perk to being forced into these stupid things was that Kendall spared no expense to make sure you looked the part. What part? Who knows at this point. 

Your relationship with Kendall Roy was… unconventional, to say the least. Technically, you were hired as some kind of PR manager when shit hit the fan with him, which seemed to happen every twelve seconds. But that title was quickly forgotten and honestly, you just kind of became a paid personal assistant slash arm candy. Which, to be frank, was a lot more difficult than one would think. 

But here you were, shifting back and forth against the luxurious leather seats and making sure you weren’t going to accidentally flash anyone as you stepped out. 

You continue to ramble, “--It’s just like, why does satin feel so nice, but also makes me feel like I’m a stuffed sausage. It’s really insane to think about the the ways women are–”

“Jesus,” Kendall finally groans, running his hands over his face, he turns and addresses you, “listen, you look great. Please, for the love of God, shut up for like 10 minutes.” 

Heat rises immediately in your cheeks, tinging your nose and tip of your ears with pink. You wring your hands together, rings clicking against each other. Your voice is soft, “I’m sorry.” 

You’re staring down at your knees, one exposed because of the slit that goes up the side of your dress, when you see Kendall’s hand grip your bare knee lightly, giving it a light squeeze. A bolt of electricity flies up your spine, and you do everything in your power to stop your body from breaking out into goosebumps, to no avail.

“Hey,” Kendall presses, trying to get you to look at him, “it’s alright, just– just relax.” 

You blink at him. He’s trying to comfort you. He’s never really been good at it, but the effort is enough to ease some of your nerves. You offer him a soft smile. His hand lingers on your skin, and you swear you can feel his thumb begin to rub small circles against your skin. But before you can know for sure, the car comes to a halt, signaling that you were at your destination. When he removes his hand, you suddenly feel very, very cold. 

“Well,” he sighs, “let’s get this fucking over with.” Looking back at you, he adds, a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, “If we do this right, we can probably get out of here in an hour.” 

He exits the limo, reaching back inside for your hand, which you eagerly take. You slide across and out of the limo, Kendall taking extra care to stand in front of you as you exit so that no paparazzi can get a “money shot” up your skirt. You smile up at him. 

“When did you become a gentleman?” You challenge, snaking your hand around his elbow. 

Kendall just offers you a small shrug, his face stony. It normally is when he’s around the press, so you’ve learned not to take it too personally. Expertly, Kendall is able to navigate you both through the crowd and into the gala. 

You’re immediately bombarded with loud music and lights. Oh, it’s one of those galas. Your grip on Kendall tightens as you enter the room. He brings his other hand over yours, giving it another reassuring squeeze. 

He leans his lips to your ear, “One hour, I promise.” Before he pries your hand off of him. You don’t mean to, but you pout. You pout. Like a silly fucking school-kid. 

“What am I supposed to do? What if I get lost? What if I get drugged here, Ken? What if you can’t find me and then you leave without–” 

He cuts you off by saying your name, his hands gripping your shoulders. Another round of goosebumps, as if this couldn’t get more embarrassing. 

“You’re fine, go grab a drink, shmooze, or– I dunno, sit in a fucking corner. But I will not leave you. I’ll find you, okay?” 

You bite your lower lip nervously, but after a moment you give him a nod. He releases you and disappears into the crowd. Letting out a shaky breath, and smoothing your clammy hands over your curves, you make your way over to the open bar. 

And that’s where you stay for nearly an hour. Scrolling on your phone, sipping your third Dirty Martini, when you feel a familiar presence. Looking up you see Kendall making his way toward you. He looks… relaxed. A very rare sight to see, especially lately. When he meets you at the bar, you can’t help but flash him a bright smile, relief washing over you. 

“Have you been here this whole time?” Kendall asks, before ordering himself a club soda. 

“Mhm,” you respond sipping at the liquor, suddenly feeling very nervous about drinking around him. 

“You can drink,” he reassured, as if he could hear your thoughts, “I don’t mind.” 

“Are you sure? I can dump it, or–or–” 

Kendall puts his fingers over your lips, silencing you. You’re not quite sure what has gotten into him, he’s rarely as handsy as he’s been all night. Not that you're complaining, you’ve been lost in his deep eyes since day one. 

“You’re doing it again,” Kendall retorts, “You’d think that a drink would–” 

“Three,” You corrected. 

He raises his brows, “well then especially after three drinks, you’d be a bit less…” he gestures at you, “this.” 

You stiffen. “What do you mean?” Your eyes prick with tears. “I-I can go– I’m sorry.” 

“No, no, no,” Kendall rushes to reach for you. He lets out a huff of a laugh, “There’s nothing wrong. You just… you talk a shit ton.” 

“You’ve known this for how long at this point, Ken? I can’t help it, I just don’t know how to tone it down. I know it’s obnoxious, I know it’s annoying and that I’m not being paid to talk your ear off all the time. I just get so pent up. And now I’m rambling again and– God– I just don’t know how to stop it–” 

As you continue to ramble, your hands now in on the conversation as you speak animatedly, Kendall sets down his club soda in a matter-of-fact kind of way, a determined nod as he does so. He turns to you, nodding along with your babbling before placing his warm hands on your cheeks and pulling your mouth to his. 

Eyes wide, you freeze, before your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the kiss. His lips are soft, softer than you’d imagined. There’s a type of reverence to the kiss, as he cradles your face in his hands. It feels like it’s something you both had wanted to do for so long. 

What feels like too soon, he pulls away. His eyes search yours, hands still cupping your now incredibly flushed cheeks. You can see the ways his eyes crinkle with a small smile. 

“Hey,” Kendall finally breaks the silence. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. 

“You okay?” 

You can only respond with a nod. Too shocked to speak, which is a first. 

“If I knew kissing you would shut you up for a fucking second, I would’ve done this more often.” He chuckles, before slinging an arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. 

[dewedup]

Kinktober Day 1 - High Sex/Tentacles Monsterfucking

IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!

@jimothybarnes and I decided to tackle this together, we'll be taking turns writing/posting and it'll be a collaborative effort for each piece we post!

This is all based around the amazing prompt list by @kroas-adtam!

Pairing: Swiss/Rain

Words: 1,739

“Is that-“

“A tentacle, yeah.”

At Rain’s words, Swiss feels his brain go through a series of events. At first, it’s reeling, thoughts flying by at the speed of lightening. Then it’s eerily quiet, his mind going completely blank, a barren shell of where his brain used to reside. Finally, it’s like an explosion.

Read it under the cut or here on AO3

Swiss and Rain pass the joint back and forth as they relax in the sunlight on the dock. Their feet kick lightly in the water beneath them, soaking up the sun and enjoying the company of each other.

“Favourite animal?”

“Axolotl.”

“What the fuck is that?” Swiss sputters, choking on the smoke as he exhales, almost positive that Rain just made up that word on the spot. The water ghoul giggles at the bewildered look on Swiss’ face. He tries to compose his facial expression, but the grin he’s sporting would need superhuman strength to suppress.

“An animal.” Rain deadpans, lasting a whole five seconds before he’s busting out into laughter again, clutching his stomach at the sigh of exasperation Swiss releases beside him.

“Yeah, no shit. Got any more info or did you just say it to sound quirky?”

“Hey!” Rain protests, smacking Swiss’ arm at the insinuation. “They’re real, and I’m quite knowledgeable. Especially animals that thrive in water. It kind of comes with the territory of being a water ghoul.”

“All water animals, yeah?” Rain nods in confirmation at Swiss’ question, tossing a goofy smile in his direction. Swiss reaches over to crush the roach of the joint against the dock. He seems deep in thought, or just… maybe regularly in thought? Rain’s having a hard time wrangling his stream of consciousness, the cloudy haze of the weed making him pleasantly blissful. “I think my favourite animal would be an octopus, which I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable about.”

An idea hits Rain as the words leave Swiss’ mouth, his grin doubling in size as he leans in to whisper conspiratorially.

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Absolutely,” Swiss doesn’t hesitate to answer, already watching the ghoul in front of him with anticipation. He’s pretty sure he’ll find whatever Rain’s about to do endearing. He has a soft spot for the water ghoul. He’s so busy getting lost in Rain’s eyes, he doesn’t notice anything amiss until there’s a nudge on his shoulder. He reaches a hand up subconsciously, swatting away whatever it is.

Except, it’s… well, it’s kind of wet? Slimy, almost. And it has a texture Swiss has never felt before. His head snaps to the side and his eyes are level with the intruder.

“Is that-“

“A tentacle, yeah.”

At Rain’s words, Swiss feels his brain go through a series of events. At first, it’s reeling, thoughts flying by at the speed of lightening. Then it’s eerily quiet, his mind going completely blank, a barren shell of where his brain used to reside. Finally, it’s like an explosion.

Swiss would never admit it, but he watches a great deal of tentacle porn. A borderline unhealthy obsession. He always thought it looked too fake.

He can now confidently say they weren’t too far off.

It’s purple in colour, tiny little suction cups along the bottom of the appendage. What they missed were the details. The way he can see the veins crawling underneath the outer skin, supplying blood all the way to the smooth tip. It glistens, most likely from tiny little pores along the surface to produce lubricant.

It looks so inviting. Swiss raises a hand but freezes before he makes contact.

“Can I-I mean, is it okay if I touch it?” It doesn’t surprise Swiss that his question comes out like a plea, begging for permission, pleading for consent to lay his hand upon this utter perfection before him. Rain seems a little confused, looking at the multi ghoul intently, trying to uncover why exactly it looks like he’s about to come in his pants at the thought of touching his tentacle. It might be a little odd, but he’s had weirder things happen. So, he shrugs, lifting the appendage from where it sneaks out from underneath his shirt, a little closer to the multi ghoul.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

It’s the green light Swiss needs. He’s running his fingers lightly down the length of the tentacle, sometimes stopping to wrap them around it, testing out the girth of the extra limb. One time he gets bold, when he’s got his hand wrapped around it, he gives a firm tug, basking in the feeling of the veins passing underneath his grip.

He freezes as Rain lets out a cut-off moan, like the ghoul himself is surprised the noise has left his mouth. Swiss looks up, meeting Rain’s wide eyes. He almost snatches his hand back, wanting to apologize for whatever just happened between them.

But he’s also high as fuck, and he wants to hear that noise from Rain again.

He gives another experimental tug, watching as the water ghoul’s eyes roll back, eyelids falling half shut as he releases another filthy groan.

Swiss surges forward, trying to capture the taste of Rain’s moan with his own lips, his tongue forcing its way in to clean up any lingering notes of desperation. Rain shudders against his lips as Swiss starts jerking his wrist along the tentacle, growing more confident with every stroke.

He pulls back to watch Rain crumble in reaction to his touch, Swiss’ eyes drinking in the visual of the ghoul falling apart beneath his hand like he’s never seen him do before.

“Swiss,” Rain whines, claws coming up to bury in Swiss’ shirt. He’s clutching pathetically to him as he continues to shake with every other slip of Swiss’ hand. Swiss can’t form a coherent thought. The only thing keeping him grounded to this realm is the way Rain’s mouth forms his name like a hymn, the claws scratching lightly against his chest, and the slick sensation of running his hand up and down the tentacle.

He wants desperately to burn this entire encounter into the recesses of his mind. He’d never watch porn again if he could close his eyes and see this image imprinted there forever.

“Swiss I’m gonna… Fuck, Swiss I think I’m close,” Rain’s voice cracks and it pulls Swiss back from where he was floating above his own body, taking in the scene like it was crafted specially for him. He supposes it is, and thinks he should thank Lucifer for every single thing that’s happened in his life leading him to this moment. He glances down at the rapidly growing damp spot on Rain’s shorts, curious to see if he’ll come without Swiss paying any attention to his cock.

“What if I put it in my mouth?” The question surprises even Swiss, unsure that was the direction he was heading in until the words have already been said, unable to take them back now. The needy gasp that Rain answers with is enough to make him positive that he doesn’t want to rescind the request.

 “Fuck, I-Swiss, yes.”

“Say it again.”

“Please put my fucking tentacle in the filthy little mouth of yours.” Rain rasps, and the words go straight to Swiss’ dick, his own pants looking in no better condition than Rain’s. He ignores his achingly hard cock though and uses his hand to bring the tentacle closer to his face, his gaze travelling over the surface of the appendage.

Swiss sticks his tongue out, licking timidly at the head of the tentacle. The lubricant coating the surface is salty, with an underlying taste of Rain that has Swiss swallowing down the saliva that starts pooling in his mouth. Rain mewls in a high-pitched tone, the tentacle pulsing underneath Swiss’ firm grip.

Without a second thought, Swiss wraps his lips around it. He suckles gently, the discharging lubricant reminding him of pre, just a thinner texture. He slides the tentacle further into his mouth and pauses as the little suction cups on the bottom catch on his tongue. It hinders his movement slightly, but he’s no stranger to a little adversity. He pumps his hand along the tentacle as he continues to suck a little harder, moving his tongue as much as he can with the new restraints.

“Swiss,” Rain hisses, and it’s the only warning Swiss gets. Rain shudders, letting loose a garbled mess of Swiss’ name and a loud moan, the patch on his shorts darkening and growing as he comes untouched. Swiss is a little surprised. Usually in the videos he watches online the tentacles ejaculate as well, but Rain’s panting and slumping with the mess in his pants being the only evidence of their time together.

Swiss starts to try and remove his tongue from its entrapment when Rain breaks out a sharp, drawn-out cry. Instantly his mouth is being pumped full of liquid, too much so he’s drowning in it. He can’t pull back with his tongue still tied up, so his only option is to keep gulping down the release, swallowing desperately. Just when he thinks he might not survive this tentacle ejaculate, it finally ceases. He’s panting and can feel the liquid sloshing around in his otherwise empty stomach.

He has to exert some effort to remove his tongue from the clutches of the suction cups, being extra mindful of his teeth and razor-sharp fangs. Rain whimpers at the struggle, getting louder when Swiss finally frees himself.

“That was…” Rain trails off, his chest moving rapidly with how heavy his breathing is. Swiss sticks his tongue out, poking at the slightly raised circular bumps that are sore to the touch. He glances up from under his lashes at the water ghoul, who’s observing his movements closely. Swiss pushes his tongue out a little more, pointing accusingly at the marks he is sure must be visible. Rain breaks into another bout of laughter, arms wrapping around his stomach as he slumps forward, giggling wildly.

Swiss starts to chuckle too, laughter building until he’s wiping tears from his eyes.

“That was fucking wild,” Swiss agrees, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. He feels like he’s in a dream, that there’s no way this can be real. But he watches as Rain reels back in his limp tentacle, sliding back to where it had appeared underneath his shirt, no longer as imposing of a sight since it emptied itself into Swiss’ willing mouth.

“I didn’t know it’d feel that good,” Rain offers with a blush, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“You can do that whenever, yeah? Like whip that thing out?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Okay, good. I might have a few different ideas of how we can make that feel even better, for both of us.”

[luckyroll3]

Crimson Lights: Chapter 4

A playful jingle sounds from my phone and I practically snap my neck swiveling to reach it. Despite not seeing Chris for over a week, we've kept in touch through regular texting, carrying on our conversations and flirtatious banter through our phones.

Chris: Still available for dinner tonight?

Kay: Yes! Planning to leave work in a few. What time should I come over?

Chris: I’ll start cooking around 7:00. Can’t wait to see you. I’ve been having dirty thoughts all day. I’ll send you the code for the elevator.

His message makes me blush a little. I walk back to my laptop, making sure to save and close all my important documents before tidying up my desk at the clinic. Ready to leave, I pack up my bag and head out, eagerly anticipating my dinner date with Chris that evening.

—

With my skin still dewy from a refreshing shower and my body moisturized, I slip into a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. I want to strike the perfect balance between cute and casual.

Shortly after 7:00, I enter Chris’ code in the elevator, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation dancing in my stomach. The elevator dings its arrival on his floor and the doors slide open. I step into the living room and see Chris standing in the kitchen wiping his hands on a towel, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He’s wearing ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His eyes light up when he sees me. He strides over and wastes no time pulling me into a tight embrace.

“Hey gorgeous,” he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I return his hug and melt into him, savoring the feel of his arms around me. He takes my hand, intertwining his fingers in mine and leading me to the kitchen. “I hope you’re not too hungry. I just got started.”

“You’re hot, rich, and can cook? Is there anything you can’t do?”

Chris chuckles at my comment, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Just wait until you taste the food before you start giving me too much credit,” he teases, nudging me playfully with his elbow. I can't help but laugh, feeling at ease and comfortable in his presence.

He pours two glasses of red wine and hands me one. I take a sip and ask, “Can I help with anything? I don’t really like to cook, but I can chop and I’m a damn good taste tester.”

“Ha! What’s your comfort level with salads?” He gestures to a lettuce head, several tomatoes and some other veggies.

“Salads I can handle!” I take another sip of the wine, then wash my hands.

He hands me a knife with a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “Don’t fuck it up!” he says with a laugh.

We work side by side for the next few minutes, our conversation flowing as effortlessly as it had the other times we’d been together. We cover light-hearted banter and deeper topics. I find myself opening up to Chris in a way I haven’t with anyone else, feeling a sense of connection beyond just our physical attraction.

“What’s your favorite meal? Just so I know for next time,” he says over his shoulder as he grabs some spices from the cabinet, a playful lilt in his voice.

"Next time?" I muse. "That's rather presumptuous, don't you think?"

"Is it? Or is it simply hopeful thinking?" His chuckle was rich and smooth.

"Maybe a little bit of both," I admit, feeling a smile tug at my lips. “I’m a simple girl: homemade mac and cheese. And not that shit out of the blue box!”

He laughs loudly. “I would never!” he says, pretending to be offended. We continue our back-and-forth banter, laughing and chatting.

I finish my salad duties and hop onto the bar counter. I pour myself another glass of wine and as I take a sip, I watch as Chris skillfully maneuvers around the kitchen, his movements fluid and confident. There is something deeply attractive about a man who knows his way around a kitchen and I find myself being more entranced with each chop and stir. I continue my story about the two gigantic cane corso puppies that bounded into the clinic earlier today. I recounted how their long, gangly legs tripped over each other as they eagerly explored their new surroundings. Despite their size, they were undeniably adorable. “They were so damn clumsy with those big feet, but also so fricken cute!”

“Cuter than me?” He glances up from the simmering red sauce he stirred with care.

“Oh absolutely!” I laugh, taking another sip of wine.

He gives me a charming grin, his dimples deepening as he turns back to the pot of sauce. He carefully adds a pinch of salt and stirs it in. He takes a small spoon from the counter, then dips it into the sauce. As he brings it to his lips, I can see him blow on it gently to cool it down before walking over to offer it to me. “Tell me what you think?” He brings the spoon to my lips, allowing me to take a sip of the sauce before tasting it himself. “More garlic?” he asks.

I let the flavors of the sauce dance on my tongue before nodding approvingly. “It’s delicious,” I say, unable to tear my gaze away from his eyes.

Emboldened by my second glass of wine, I wrap my legs around him, trapping him in place as I press my lips to his in a kiss that starts soft, but quickly escalates.

He stiffens in surprise, the spoon in his hand pausing mid-air. But then he’s kissing me back, matching my fervor as his free hand finds its way to my waist, pulling me even closer to him. The world shrinks down to the space where our bodies meet, the taste of him mingling with the lingering flavors of the wine and sauce on my tongue. It’s all-consuming and intoxicating.

The kiss ignites something wild within me that grows as Chris drops the spoon and both of his hands roam the small of my back, urging me impossibly closer. His fingers slip up under my shirt, tracing the column of my spine. I respond instinctively, my own hands yanking his tucked shirt free from his jeans before venturing beneath it to explore the taut muscles of his abdomen. I feel his muscles tense beneath my touch, urging me on. I press my crotch against his and feel him starting to get hard. The anticipation, built up from being interrupted before, was almost unbearable. With trembling hands, I fumble with the button on his jeans, desperate for more. As I finally manage to open it and tug down the zipper, I feel him moan against my lips. The sound only fuels my desire further as I reach eagerly for his cock.

The cocoon of intimacy enveloping us is suddenly shattered by the ding of the elevator, followed by a cacophony of voices and laughter as the doors open. My heart sinks as I look up at Chris; I feel defeated and frustrated by yet another interruption. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I whisper-yell at him, throwing my head back in exasperation before breaking into a laugh. “I can’t even be mad anymore.”

Chris lets out a groan and zips up his jeans, clearly caught off guard by our unexpected visitors. “Shit,” he whispers back, a mixture of shock and annoyance crossing his features as he steps back from me. “I had no clue they were stopping by.” Chris turns towards the elevator, raising his voice to a shout, “Uh, hey! What the fuck are you losers doing here?”

I find my wine glass and take a long sip as I watch five men make their way off the elevator - Changbin, Felix, Hyunjin, Han, and an unfamiliar face he was holding hands with. This must be the partner Han mentioned at the party.

Changbin offers his fist towards Chris in greeting as he says, "I told them you had plans tonight." They bump fists before pulling each other into a manly hug. "But when they heard you were cooking...you know how these fuckers are."

“Yeah, I know.” Chris sighs in resignation. Despite his annoyance, I can tell he’s secretly pleased to see them. He greets each of them with a warm hug and playful banter. It's almost as if he hasn't seen them in ages, even though it’s probably been just a few hours since they were last together. It brings a smile to my face.

With a joyous skip in his step, Changbin approaches me with a grin spread across his face. "Kay! Up top!" he exclaims, extending his hand for a celebratory high five. I oblige and our palms connect with a satisfying smack. "I can take responsibility for the other two interruptions, but this one is not my fault. I tried to stop them!" He bursts into laughter when he sees my raised eyebrow, clearly questioning what he knows. "Chan tells me everything. I'm his BFF," he boasts gleefully before settling onto one of the bar stools.

"Great," I mutter, hopping off the counter and taking the stool next to him with a sigh. "So now everyone knows I have blue balls."

"They suspect," Changbin corrects me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "But I'm the only one who knows for sure." He pours himself a glass of wine and refills mine, his demeanor playful and carefree.

I hear Hyunjin’s voice behind us, “So this is what you’re up to….10th floor girl. I approve!”

Both Chanbin and I swivel our stools around to face them. “Hi Kay,” Felix says in his deep voice with a bright smile. “Ignore him,” he adds playfully as he shoves Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Thanks. Who’s this?” I point my chin towards Han’s partner.

“This is my lover, Minho,” Han introduces very dramatically.

Minho rolls his eyes, but extends his hand for me to shake.

“How long until the food’s ready,” Han asks as the group settles onto the couches.

Chris walks back to the kitchen and calls over his shoulder, “Probably another 45 minutes.”

Changbin and I have a casual conversation at the bar while the others have a lively discussion in front of the TV. Suddenly, Han makes a loud declaration, causing Changbin to burst out with a hearty laugh as he yells, “The lies, the lies, the lies!” His contagious laugh spreads to the others, who all join in, including Chris, who snorts with amusement as he places a tray in the oven.

I turn to Changbin, my curiosity piqued. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a housewives fan!"

His eyes light up with excitement. "Are you kidding? I love that shit," he declares. "I watch every single one... but don't spoil anything for me. I haven't caught up with last week's episodes yet." As he speaks, his hands gesture animatedly in the air, emphasizing his love for the guilty pleasure TV shows. He and I discuss some of the newly casted housewives.

I hear Hyunjin say my name, and I strain to hear what he’s saying about me amidst all the conversations. Minho tries to shush Hyunjin as he erupts into loud, raucous laughter. My attention snaps towards the couch, where Chris has suddenly appeared, seemingly teleporting from the kitchen in record time. He stands at the back of the couch, towering over Hyunjin and gripping under his neck firmly from behind. The room falls silent, everyone on the couch seemingly holding their breath. Changbin looks unbothered, like he’s used to seeing scenes like this play out. He takes a sip of his wine.

Chris forcefully tilts Hyunjin’s head back so that he is looking down directly into Hyunjin’s face. Their eyes meet. His voice drops low as he issues a warning. “Behave,” he growls.

“C’mon hyung! I’m just….,” Hyunjin pleads through his laughter. Chris raises his eyebrow as he cocks his head to the side, silently challenging Hyunjin to finish his sentence. Understanding the unspoken threat, Hyunjin quickly quiets down. “Ok, fine. Sorry,” he concedes with a sigh and a roll of his eyes.

“Good boy,” Chris says. He leans down to give Hyunjin a quick kiss on the corner of his lip before releasing him and heading back to the kitchen.

Felix lets out a relieved breath and then playfully slaps Hyunjin on the back of his head. "Stupid," he whispers.

The boys seamlessly slip back into their previous conversation, their laughter echoing through the air. As they joke and tease each other, I turn my attention back to Changbin. “What the hell was that?” I question, still trying to make sense of the strange and unexpectedly intimate moment I had just witnessed.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

34. "Answer the phone. I dare you."

For our Alpha and Little one. Its been a while we saw them all mushy and tangled up in each other 🥰

Thank you for playing! Sorry I took my sweet time doing this, but I hope you enjoy it. I love that you gave them this absolutely playful moment. Especially with what they have going on now.

18+ ONLY.

The Pack Masterlist

Steve meant to only pop into the cabin real quick, grab his leather work gloves he forgot that morning and go back up the mountain to meet up with the rest of the crew at the lot.

In and out, it was all he had time for. Especially since Sam was waiting on him. He tried borrowing some gloves, even searching in the trucks parked up their for gloves. But all of them were just a bit to small for him to work with.

He was just gonna say a quick hi to you on his way out since he assured Sam he would only be fifteen minutes tops, his Alpha huffed in impatience as he searched around the cabin for his gloves.

<Our Little One is on the back deck.> The Alpha pointed out, catching a glimpse of your leg dangling over the massive swing he installed on the porch, your toes pressing against the deck to swing it back and forth.

Maybe she knows where they are...

The Alpha rolled his eyes at Steve, slipping away with a howl of his Little One's song, searching her out. Steve poked his head out the window. "Hey Little One..." His voice trailed off as he fully appreciated the sight you gave him in the late morning hour.

You were lazily sprawled out on the swing, laid back in the pillows while holding a book above you, clearly reading. Naked.

Your body all sprawled out, every inch of you just free as the sun filtered down among the leafy branches that provided the back of their cabin privacy from the rest of the pack, leaving your skin dappled with warm sunshine and cool shade. Steve swung the back deck doors wide open, giving a appreciative growl at how you were relaxing.

You broke into a grin, biting on your lip as your eyes scanned the sentence you were reading above you. "Youre home early."

"My wolfy senses were tingling."

You snorted at him, letting your book fall off to the side of the swing, curling a bit as you pushed up to sit, stretching your foot out for Steve to take, one hand cupping your foot while the other rubbed against the top to your ankle, lovingly massaging you. "And what did your wolfy senses detect?"

Both of you would hear your wolves howling, singing their song while drifting away from conciousness for either of you. But the playfulness of the wolves could be felt, leaving you both in similar moods, the bond between you two tingling with unspoken desire and passion.

"That my mate, my very sexy, beautiful, naked mate, was waiting for me."

"Those are some good wolfy senses." You purred up at him, giggling when he pulled you closer to the edge, letting your feet drop and you fell backward into the pillows while Steve let his hands roam over your warm breasts, squeezing and teasing your nipples. "Here for your gloves, aren't you?"

"I can't find them." Steve hummed as his eyes were on your breasts, groaning as you were so responsive to him, he could already smell your arousal.

"They are on the kitchen counter, near your wallet." You confirmed as you arched your body to his touch, letting your arms stretch above your head and grab at a pillow to drag down. Steve grabbed at it, tapping your hip.

"Lift up Little One." He directed as his mouth started marking your bare skin. Your feet braced on the edge, your hips lifted enough for him to wedge the pillow underneath while he bit at your bond mark, making you whimper. Your hand shot to his hair, weaving your fingers into the golden tresses and tightening to hold on. "You gonna be good for me Little One?" His mouth popped off your nipple, the sudden loss of his warm mouth making your nerves tingle.

His hands smoothed down your body, giving appreciative grasps of strength at the curves, digging his fingers into your softness. Strong calloused hands dipped between your thighs, spreading you wider while he knelt down to the hard deck, making you lose your hold on him for a moment. "Alpha..." Your whimper was needy now as you lifted a leg to hook over his shoulder. "I'm always good for you."

Steve growled in agreement while his mouth worked down your body, making you wriggle in place with anticipation till his growl turned sharp, teeth sinking into the sensitive spot of your inner thigh to hold you still for a moment. The move made you pant, your chest heaving as you dragged in the air, doing your best to still your sensitive body.

"You really are, so good, so sensitive for me." Steve praised while he admired how your arousal started to glisten your folds, your thighs trembling with how they were spread wide for him, all for him. It was almost intoxicating how you could drive him feral, needing to fuck and love on you, his wild Little One, needing to mark every inch of your beauty till you were just as tied to him as he was to you.

And he felt that, that need in the bond from you to have all that from him, that he was your Alpha, his mate and you wanted everyone to sense it.

That you were proud to be his. Just as much as he was proud to belong to you. His mouth dropped, his tongue swiping over your folds to gather your taste before spreading you apart with fingers intimately and burying his face in you.

You gasped, your body arching up the the sun while Steve worshipped you with his tongue. Your hips rocking to match his demands on you. "Oh god..." You panted, Steve chuckling from between you, his sharp sense of hearing picking up on your breathless tone already. From somewhere Steve's cell rang, and his head snapped up in surprise at the intrusion, your eyes connecting as you glanced down your body.

His beard glistened golden, and his tongue swiped around his pink lips to clean you off of him. "Answer it, I dare you." He challenged as he shifted enough to reach into his back pocket, pulling it out. You smirked as your hand shot out, taking the phone. You weren't about to back down from a challenge.

Steve's eyes glinted in amusement as he teased your clit, pulling the sensitive little nerve between his teeth while you squeaked out into the phone. "Yeah, Sam?"

"Y/N? Is Steve there? He was supposed to be back up here with us."

Steve chose this moment to fuck his tongue into you, making your toes curl and a sharp whine pierced from you. What was Sam saying? Your thoughts were clouded and impossible to focus. "He's busy?"

"Busy?! Doing what? He was the one who wanted to finish this today."

"Steve!" You yelped his name in surprise as he dragged his tongue through you one last time and then flipped you to your belly, your knees pulled under you enough to lift your lower half in the air. "Busy Sam, he is busy!"

"Fuck are you two? That's nasty. Why you even answering the-"

Steve wrenched the phone from your hold, tossing it away into the mess of bedding on the swing, and pressed down against your shoulder blades, holding you down. "Let's see how good you can hold a conversation after I fill this pussy."

You heard the clang of his belt from behind and you flashed a grin at him over your shoulder with excitement.

[flightlessangelwings]

Kinktober Day 28- Formalwear

Steven Grant x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count- 1.6k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), unprotected sex, mutual pining, flirting, semi public sex (in a bathroom), mirror sex, reader wears a gown but it’s not described in detail

Notes- Oh sweet Steven how I love him so!! I kept going back and forth on if I wanted pining or established relationship with this one and I ended up with pining cause that’s more fun lol! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen​!

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​​. Reblogs highly appreciated!

~

Steven was nervous about the gala. Not only was it the museum’s event of the year, but he knew you were going to be there, and you were going to be all dressed up. He swallowed hard as he fixed his tuxedo in the mirror and ran his hands through his hair one more time, hoping that you would be impressed with how he cleaned up.

And impressed was an understatement. From the moment you walked through the doors, you searched for him, and when you finally found him you felt your heart skip a beat. You gasped softly when you laid your eyes on Steven in a suit, and you had to calm your trembling hands. He looked so handsome, and all you wanted to do was drag him to the nearest bathroom and tangle yourself up in him.

And Steven thought the exact same thing about you. You looked so stunning in your gown, and when your mouth dropped open, Steven felt a flutter in his chest. He waved and shifted nervously from foot to foot as you made your way over to him, and he cleared his throat and tugged at his collar as the room suddenly felt warm.

“Hey,” you whispered when you were face to face with him.

“Hey yourself,” Steven mumbled, “You look beautiful tonight.”

“So do you,” you fiddled with your fingers as you watched Steven mirror your nervousness. 

For months, it felt like the two of you danced around your feelings. From the moment you met, you were smitten with him, and Steven secretly felt the same about you. Friendship quickly turned into flirting, and you were positive you were being obvious about how you felt about him. And something in you told you he felt the same about you. Yet, both of you were always too nervous to actually break the ice.

That was going to change tonight.

As a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks, you grabbed one, downed in one one gulp, and gathered your courage, “Steven, I’m going to be honest with you right now,” you watched as his eyes went wide, “All I can think about is dragging you to the bathroom over there and fucking you with your tux on.”

Steven swallowed hard as he stiffened, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. He almost wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but at the same time he didn’t want to wake up if he was. But this was his chance, and he didn’t want to miss his opportunity with you so he gathered his own courage, “How about the staff bathroom in the back? It’s more private.”

You mind spun, but you also didn’t want to lose your window, “What are we waiting for then?”

He let out a heavy breath as he reached his hand out to you, “Shall we?” Steven tried his best to be smooth, but it was only to hide the nerves that ran through him. But, it was almost a comfort when you slid your hand in his with a shy smile and you trembled just as much as he did.

The rest of the world faded away the moment you locked the door to the bathroom and it was just you and Steven in a tiny space. For a moment, the two of you just stood there in each other’s gazes, both unsure of what exactly to do next. But, the dam broke at the same time, and the two of you both launched for the other at the same time.

Steven cupped your face in both his hands as you grabbed onto his collar and the two of you locked yourselves in a deep and passionate kiss. You moaned into his mouth as you tasted him, and you felt like your skin was on fire from the way he held you so tightly. It was a perfect kiss.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” you whispered against his lips when you broke away for air.

“Beats me,” he chuckled softly, “I’ve wanted to ask you out for so long,” Steven confessed.

“Steven,” you tilted his chin so he would meet your eyes, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to ask me out.”

His face softened with relief, “Couple of winners we are, huh?”

“Yeah…” your tone dropped, “But right now, I need you too badly,” you bucked your hips against Steven’s and you both let out soft moans when you felt how hard he was already. 

“Darling…” Steven groaned in a hushed tone as he trailed his hands down the sides of your body and savored every inch of you and your soft gown under his fingertips.

You leaned back against the sink and pulled him in for another heated kiss. A moan escaped your lips when you felt Steven lean his body into yours and his hardness poked at your core. You balanced yourself on one leg and wrapped the other around him to pull him in closer, desperate for more of him. Steven’s hands dropped down to your ass and he gave it a tentative squeeze. When you moaned against his lips, he smirked and squeezed you harder.

“You like that, darling?” he purred, suddenly overcome with confidence.

In response, you quickly got to work with unfastening the buttons of his shirt to expose his chest, “Not as much as I like this view,” you smirked.

“My view isn’t so bad either,” he quipped back.

“Steven please,” your tone changed suddenly to something more desperate, “I need you,” your hands ghosted along his chest until you reached the zipper of his pants.

“I’ve got you, love,” his voice dropped as he felt his cock twitch from your eagerness, “Hang on,” Steven spun you around before you could free his cock from his pants, and he gently shushed you when you let out a disappointed whine.

Your disappointment was quickly gone though when Steven reached under your dress and ran his hand along your folds over your panties. You dropped your head back and let out a moan as his fingers grazed your clothed clit and heat quickly built within your body. 

“Steven…”

“You’re so beautiful,” he moaned into your ear as he pushed your panties aside and poked his fingers at your entrance, “Is this alright?” he paused.

“Yes,” you breathed, “I want this… Please…”

His breath hitched in his throat as he dove his fingers into you a little too quickly. You cried out at the intrusion, but just as Steven was about to apologize for possibly hurting you, you let out a sinful moan that went right to his cock. Knowing that you were alright, Steven pumped his fingers in and out of you, and his cock strained in his pants at how warm and wet you felt around him.

“Steven… Fuck me… Please…”

He would do anything you asked whenever you used that voice on him, and Steven groaned as he pulled his fingers out of you just as swiftly as he plunged them in. He fumbled with the zipper on his pants and hastily freed his aching cock before he bunched up your dress and pushed it aside to reveal your dripping pussy.

A gasp escaped his lips as he raised his gaze and met your eyes in the mirror, “Fuck love, you look even more gorgeous like this,” he groaned as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You let out a few heavy breaths before you replied, “So do you…”

With that, Steven thrust into you, and the cry you let out only fueled him on more. Steven rocked into you with an erratic and unsteady pace, too caught up in the moment to be more methodical. The warmth of your pussy around him combined with your stunning reflection in the mirror was almost overwhelming for him. To finally have you after wanting you for so long compared to nothing. And the sounds you made while he fucked you only added to the sensations he felt.

“So good,” you moaned as you clutched onto the counter, “So good, Steven…”

“Shit, darling,” he groaned as he held onto your hip tighter with one hand and snaked the other around to rub at your clit.

“Fuck!” you cried out as your mind swam, “You’re gonna make me cum, Steven…”

All he could do was groan as he thrust into you harder and faster, too overwhelmed with need to form any words. But no words were needed in that moment, and with just a few more pumps of his cock into you, both of you fell apart at the same time. Cries and moans filled the little bathroom as you hit your peaks at the same time and Steven spilled himself inside you. 

Once your climax was ridden out, you fell back against Steven and heavy breaths filled the room as he kept both of you upright against the counter. While your eyes fluttered shut, he kept his eyes open and he studied every detail of you in the mirror.

“You look exquisite like this,” Steven mumbled your name as he peppered soft kissed along your face.

You blinked your eyes open and you let out a gasp when you saw the image that greeted you in the mirror. Steven stood behind you, his cock still buried in you, his arms wrapped around you, and both of you dressed to the nines. Looks of pure bliss lit up both your faces, and you both knew that neither of you wanted this moment to end.

“This was worth the wait, Steven,” you turned your head and placed a soft kiss on his lips, “You were worth the wait.”

Steven smiled brightly against your face, “So were you, love,” he exhaled contently, “But shouldn’t we get back to the party? I’m sure they’ll be missing us by now.”

“Let’s enjoy the view here for a few more minutes,” you cooed.

“Anything you want, darling,” he chuckled, “Anything for you.”

[avonne-writes]

Reminisce

Pairing: Nick/Charlie

Word count, rating: 5086, M

Summary: The day of Nick's five-year class reunion brings some surprises.

Link to the AO3 post

As their car turns onto the familiar streets leading to Truham, Charlie's heart jumps. Here we go. Back after four long years. He looks at Nick's hands on the steering wheel and sighs. Nick's knuckles are going white.

"We can still turn around and just go down to the beach instead." He suggests, putting on an encouraging smile because he can feel the tension rolling off Nick in waves.

The resolute little wrinkle that Charlie loves so much appears between Nick's eyebrows. "No, we RSVP'd."

"Come on." Charlie coaxes him, rubbing Nick's thigh with his right hand. "They won't even notice we're not there."

That's an outright lie. Everyone will notice if Nick isn't there. Mister "Rugby King". And by association, they would also notice Charlie's absence, because everyone and their dog knows that he was the one who Nick went out with for the better half of his high school years. But as indifferent as Charlie is towards this reunion, he knows that Nick doesn't want to be there. Something has been off about him for weeks now.

With an ashen face, Nick steers the car into a spot in the parking lot and kills the engine. He checks the watch Charlie gave him for his twentieth birthday. "I guess we're early."

He reaches for the door handle, but Charlie grabs his other hand to stop him. "Hey."

Some of the colour returns to Nick's skin. He turns in his seat, away from the school's entrance, and leans closer to Charlie. "Hey."

Charlie puts a hand on Nick's cheek and strokes his temple. "What's wrong?"

It's a tell-tale sign when Nick looks down, then away. Over the years, Charlie has become fluent in these looks, knows the shade of each one. The guilty side-glance, the flustered back and forth when Nick is turned on but doesn't know if Charlie's game, the dark stare when he's angry. This is the scared puppy version, and it tugs at Charlie's heartstrings.

"Seriously, we don't have to go in. Most of these people don't have any influence on our lives anymore."

"I know." Nick says, frustrated. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

Nick's mouth opens, then closes. He grimaces. "Not just that."

"Okay." Charlie waits it out.

"Okay, so one part of me just keeps thinking about all the bad memories, like, you know, Ben and Harry and stuff, and I know that it's not relevant anymore and they may have grown up or something but I feel like I'm in a time machine. That I'm about to step into a situation where I'll have to fight to protect us. Does that make sense?"

Sometimes, Charlie can barely take it, the way Nick makes him feel. "Yeah. I understand."

"But." Nick swallows and blows out a long exhale. He seems calmer already, now that he has voiced what's bothering him out loud. He smooths a hand over his burgundy shirt. "I know I have to do this to get over it. I think replacing the images I have of them might help, you know?"

Charlie smiles. "I know."

Nick nods, visibly more relaxed now. He squeezes Charlie's hand. "How are you so calm about this? I thought you'd be the more anxious one."

Charlie shrugs. It would be a bad idea to say he has enough experience ignoring bullies. "I guess you're nervous enough for the both of us." When Nick smiles at his lame attempt to lighten the mood, he adds "And I know that if it's really bad, we can leave anytime. It's not exactly a luxury we had seven years ago."

Nick's smile widens. "Seven years. God. Can you believe it?"

Charlie mirrors Nick's expression and leans close enough that their noses brush. "It feels longer to be honest." He presses a chaste kiss to Nick's lips. "Nick?"

"Hm?" Nick steals another kiss.

"Do you think we could pretend to be like a high school couple again?"

Nick snickers. "Nooo, we were so awkward in high school."

Grinning, Charlie winds his arms around Nick's neck and pulls him closer. He can feel one of Nick's hands on his waist. "We're still awkward."

Nick leaves a trail of sticky kisses on Charlie's neck and cheek. "I'll let you know that I'm a… suave gentleman, Mister Spring."

"Right." Charlie drawls, and they have to break the next kiss because they're smiling too hard.

~°~

As far as Charlie knows, five year reunions aren't all that common - his year certainly isn't planning to have one - but some of the more sociable guys in Nick's class collaborated with people from the girls' school and this idea came to life. A joint reunion. On school grounds, no less, because they thought it would be nostalgic. Charlie would rather call it torturous, but even he has to admit it'd be kind of nice to see some of his and Nick's go-to spots. Like the art room. Or the nook behind the gym building where he touched Nick's bare stomach for the first time…

It's a funny thing that suddenly, he remembers that with great clarity, even though it wasn't pivotal in any way. He wonders what Nick thinks about as they walk through the old, familiar hallways hand in hand under the papier-mâché decorations.

"Do you think we're the only ones who came?" Nick whispers, which pretty much answers Charlie's question. It's eerily quiet. Their steps echo on the tiles as they approach the door that leads to the pitches outside.

Charlie pushes it open and comes face to face with Ben Hope. "Oh."

"Sorry." Ben says automatically, taking a step back before realizing who he's talking to.

His face twists then, but Charlie can't read it. All he can see is flashbacks to petty hatred and jealousy. He freezes. At the same time, he can feel Nick tense. His hold on Charlie's hand tightens, and he steps forward, trying to angle himself in front of Charlie. He must have been aiming for subtlety, but his broad shoulders and the narrow doorway make it impossible, and Ben's eyes snap to him immediately.

Ben blanches. He looks lean and pretty as ever, but it looks like a facade to hide the struggling within. Or maybe that's just the way Charlie sees him after everything he went through and witnessed in school. "Hello."

"Hi." Charlie manages to croak, pulling Nick to the side. "Sorry, we're in your way."

Ben averts his gaze. He clears his throat. "No problem." Without another glance, he rushes inside the building.

Nick's free hand is balled into a fist. His fingers clench and unclench in that awkwardly frustrated way that Charlie finds way more endearing than he should. "Didn't we agree that you wouldn't say the s-word to any of your bullies?"

Charlie looks at his feet. "S-"

"No."

A laugh escapes Charlie's mouth. "Oh, fine! It was just a courtesy, okay?"

Nick sighs. He gives Charlie a slow smile, then lets go of his hand only to throw his arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Let's find those picnic tables."

The reunion buffet is set up by the rugby pitch, with tiny, tasteless sandwiches and petit fours. It's surrounded with a few picnic tables for those who want to sit down, and some girls from Higgs are already mingling around. It's a mild, sunny afternoon. Charlie's content to soak in the warm light like a cat while Nick holds polite small talk with two lads from the rugby team. It seems as though they've grown even larger since graduation, their muscles bulging and sculpted with sharp lines. As conventionally attractive as that is, Charlie's glad that Nick's not obsessed with the gym like these two must be.

"I'll get us something to drink." He tells Nick and disentangles himself from his embrace.

He should also eat something, he figures, but old habits die hard - the thought of taking even a single bite in front of these people makes him queasy. He grabs a paper cup and gets himself some coke. Knowing all too well that if they're drinking different things Nick will just try to filch Charlie's, he pours out another cup and turns to head back. He stops dead in his tracks though, when someone approaches him directly.

"Charlie Spring!" It's Harry, loud and obnoxious as ever, but his grin doesn't feel mocking this time. He claps Charlie on the arm, almost making him spill one of the drinks in his hands. "All right, mate? Haven't seen you in ages."

"Yeah. Um. Nick and I have moved to Leeds." Charlie replies. His insides clench from the dread of an imminent homophobic comment, but Harry's trademark cruel grin doesn't make an appearance.

"You two still going strong? Glad to hear that, real glad, mate." He nods, still in the habit of using 'mate' as a punctuation mark. "I shacked up with my girlfriend in Kensington, can you believe it?"

Very much so, Charlie wants to roll his eyes, but he offers a polite smile instead, suspecting that Harry's disbelief refers to him having a steady girlfriend, not him living in one of the poshest neighbourhoods possible. He's right, because Harry launches into a gushing monologue about his girl that seems to come from genuine happiness and not a need to brag.

It's weird, having a normal conversation with Harry. The atmosphere between them never defrosted during their school years, even after the overt bullying stopped. But, it seems, Harry either can't remember any of that or chooses to ignore it. All things considered, Charlie realizes he prefers this to Ben's avoidance - but yet again, Ben has always been a coward.

After about twenty minutes of this surreal experience, his eyes wander back to Nick, missing the solid support of his hand on Charlie's back and the shield of his good-natured smile in the face of uncomfortable topics. It's evident that Nick is in a similar state. He's crowded by a circle of old classmates and some girls who probably used to have a crush on him, and his eyes are darting around in what Charlie identifies as panic. There's a ninety-five percent chance that he doesn't know how to say no and excuse himself from the conversation because he doesn't want to offend anyone.

A fond smile tugs at Charlie's lips. "So-" He bites back the second half of his sorry, remembering Nick's words. "I think I have to go rescue my boyfriend."

Harry follows his eyes. "Good idea, mate, we should join the lads!"

They have to skirt around the tables in a way that puts them behind some of the louder guys standing in Nick's group. Apparently, they have a vested interest in Nick's love life. It must be fascinating to them, Charlie guesses, but that doesn't make their questions less annoying or intrusive. He can feel the blood drain from his face when the first one reaches his ears.

“But isn’t it boring to only have sex with one person your whole life?”

"Yeah, don't you ever think about trying it with a girl? You're bi, after all, aren't you? You're missing all the fun at uni."

"I -" Nick draws his shoulders up defensively. "That's a shallow way of looking at it -"

It's their saving grace that Harry, with his usual penchant for drawing attention to himself, crashes the party. He greets all his old friends with complicated - and ridiculous - handshakes and throws in a story about his girlfriend, and just like that, everything else is forgotten. For once, Charlie feels thankful for his insatiable need for admiration.

He manages to shoulder his way through to Nick, who's still frowning in displeasure, and presses a drink into his hand. He puts his free hand between Nick's shoulder blades.

"Charlie!" Nick says in relief. "I've been looking for you."

Charlie gives him a weak smile. "I know." He looks around the group, and the guys who commented on their relationship earlier avoid his gaze. He spots Ben at another table. When their eyes meet, Ben looks away too.

"Can we go sit down?" Charlie asks Nick. Dark thoughts batter his mind, suggesting that people hate him, that they don't want to be in his company - he thought five years would have been enough to change that.

Looking concerned, Nick guides them to a bench at one of the tables. The early summer breeze blows his fringe into his eyes. "You okay?"

Charlie nods. He picks Nick's hand up and plays with his fingers, noting that the number of freckles on them has already increased in the marigold light. He thumbs at the base of Nick's fourth finger and wonders if this really is for life between them. He wants it to be - they've made it through the tough transition between high school and university without a break-up after all. They can make it through anything. But he can't help but be scared sometimes that he limits Nick's life. That he holds him back from experiences he'll regret not having later on in life.

"Okay. What?" Nick leans in closer, his mellow brown eyes focused on Charlie. "I can see you spiralling."

"Nothing. It's stupid." Charlie worries at his lip. He can't put the weight of his insecurities on Nick when Nick's already so tense from meeting some of the people he used to hate.

Nick, however, doesn't let it go. "Charlie." He whines, hugging Charlie close and rubbing his stubble on Charlie's face until he's pushed away.

"Oh my God, stop, stop." Charlie laughs. He blushes crimson.

Nick smiles back, utterly unashamed. "You asked me to act like we're in high school."

"You never acted like this in high school."

"Not in public."

Charlie laughs again. When Nick just sips his coke, watching him above the rim of his cup, he sighs.

"I was wondering if… if it really doesn't bother you that you never…" He runs a hand over his face. "I mean, you did miss out on some stuff. And you've been acting strange lately. Ever since you submitted your dissertation."

"What did I miss out on? Meaningless hook-ups and walks of shame? No." Nick shakes his head, frowning like the very idea irritates him. "One of these days I'm going to convince you not to ruminate over crap other people say about our relationship. Who cares about their opinion?"

Charlie smiles and rests his head on Nick's shoulder. "You're right. I let it get to me again."

Nick curls an arm around Charlie's waist. He's relaxed, but a second later, a strange tension spreads through him. He clears his throat. "Just for the record, that's not why I've been a bit out of sorts lately."

Charlie raises his head to look at him with wide eyes. "Then why?"

Nick returns his gaze for a moment, then leans down and kisses Charlie's shoulder through his shirt. "I'll tell you tonight, okay?"

Charlie's heart struggles to beat through the ice that seems to surround it. "Okay." He says faintly.

Nick's hand tightens on his side. "Oh, look, that's Miss Singh! Let's go say hi."

Mustering a smile, Charlie nods and stands up.

~°~

Overall, despite that little hitch and Ben's continuous awkward behaviour around Charlie, they have a reasonably good time. It cheers Nick up when he catches up with old friends he didn't stay in touch with, and Charlie gets to have a long conversation with Mr Ajayi, which makes it all worth it to be honest. They stay long enough that the afternoon sunshine bites Nick's fair skin and leaves him whining about his sunburn all the way to the hotel. Charlie laughs at him, and once their room's door is closed behind them, he pushes Nick on the bed and presses his cool lips to Nick's pink cheeks and nose until he can't stop giggling.

“Tell me again, why aren't we staying in your old room? Or mine?" Charlie asks, combing his fingers through Nick's hair. They're lying side by side on the covers, him on his stomach and Nick on his back with an arm outstretched to let Charlie press up close.

Nick's eyebrows curve up in the middle just like they do when he's about to ask Charlie something he cares deeply about, but he seems to think better of it in the end. "I kind of wanted to go down to the beach."

Charlie frowns and huffs a confused laugh, because it doesn't make sense, but Nick puts a hand on his nape and pulls him down into a kiss, and then it doesn't matter anymore. They make out in comfortable silence. He tastes the lingering sweetness of coke in Nick's mouth and shares wet, languid kisses with him. In the amber rays of the setting sun that stream in through the window, Nick's hair and eyelashes glow golden. His lips are soft and pliant, and his palms are a steady pressure on Charlie's neck and the curve of his back. He's so peaceful like this that Charlie just wants to warm himself on him, in Nick's love and the sense of belonging he feels in his arms.

He draws his kisses from Nick's lips to his neck, over his stubbly jawline to his pulse point, and he sucks the faint saltiness of sweat away from his skin until Nick squirms and pulls his shirt off.

Charlie's hand goes to Nick's pecs immediately. "What about going to the beach?" He asks playfully.

Nick bites his lip. "Maybe tomorrow?"

Charlie snickers.

They undress each other slowly, enjoying the moment. As though they haven't done this a thousand times before. How can it still be so mesmerizing after seven years? It never fails to amaze Charlie. Once they're both naked, he settles himself between Nick's legs and caresses the hills and valleys of his torso as if trying to memorize them, just like he did during their first time. He loves Nick's body. Loves that he's strong and thick but not sinewy like the adonises they cast in TV shows, he loves that Nick is hairier than he is, that he has freckles all over and a little layer of soft fat on his abs. He leans down and paints kisses on the skin he has just caressed, down along Nick's sternum, to one nipple then the next, then down to his stomach. When he reaches Nick's belly, he nips the supple skin there. Nick's hand tightens in his hair.

He looks up to meet Nick's half-lidded eyes. "I've been thinking about this all day."

Nick's chest expands around a deep breath. "Going down on me?"

"No, about your stomach."

Confusion looks ridiculously adorable on Nick's face, if someone were to ask Charlie. "Um, okay."

"I don't know, I just really like it." He kisses Nick's stomach again, running his fingertips over the spot that makes Nick snort a laugh.

"Charlie!" Nick captures his fingers.

"I'm serious." Charlie laughs back, then sits up and watches Nick until his grin fades. "So…" He raises an eyebrow playfully. "Do you want me to go down on you?"

Nick groans. His free hand is already clenched in the sheet. "Please."

Charlie smiles again. He settles in a comfortable position and takes Nick's cock in a gentle hold, casually stroking it while he has his fun adoring Nick's hipbones with kisses and bites. It's a game they play sometimes, to see who caves into desire first, who cuts the teasing short. Nick has already said please, so technically, it should be Charlie's win, but he doesn't argue his case when Nick lets out a quiet, breathy laugh at the first touch of Charlie's lips on his cock.

"Shut up." Charlie swats at him before mouthing his way up the side of Nick's cock.

Nick grabs his hand. He continues to snicker until Charlie wraps his lips around the head and sucks.

"Ah, that's so good." He sighs then. One of his hands strokes Charlie's hair. "So good."

Giving Nick head is one of Charlie's favourite things in the world. There's nothing quite like reducing him to a babbling, flushed mess with a few well-placed flicks of pressure. He likes to feel the muscles around Nick's hips jump to thrust but not move until he says it's okay, he likes to hear the hitches in Nick's breathing and taste his pleasure on his tongue. It's something he's become really good at over the years, and something about doing it in a new place makes it even more exciting.

When he pulls off, Nick's trembling. He tugs at Charlie's arm. "Charlie."

They kiss, long and deep, running their hands all over the familiar planes of each other's bodies until rubbing against each other isn't enough. With a needy noise, Nick pulls one of Charlie's legs over his hips. "Straddle me?"

Charlie only pauses for a split second to think it over. "Okay."

It's still not his favourite position to have sex in but he knows it when Nick needs to relinquish the weight of control. He can ride Nick if that's what he wants. He reaches for the lube in their bag to prepare himself while Nick strokes his thighs. Sometimes, Nick likes to bottom, but this isn’t one of those nights and quite frankly, Charlie prefers it that way. He enjoys the way Nick does it, how he holds and fills Charlie in the best of ways, and how sated they both are after.

"Ready?" He asks when he is, gripping Nick's cock again, trailing slippery fingers up and down its length.

Something about that question still makes Nick flush from anticipation. "Yeah."

It starts out as a slow ride, something sweet and comfortable instead of the rushed quickies they used to have in Charlie's last year of high school, when they were long-distance. Charlie doesn't even know why those memories float back to his mind but he can't help comparing the confidence in Nick's touches to those earlier days. He can't stop his brain from bringing back the memory of their first time when Nick was so nervous he almost cried. He has to slow down to a rocking movement because a giggle bubbles in his chest. Even without knowing the reason, Nick starts laughing along with him in ragged, panting chuckles, rubbing Charlie's arms and then grabbing his waist to flip them around.

He gives Charlie a messy kiss. "Hi."

Charlie's lips curl into a smile again. "Hi."

Nick laces both of their hands together and pulls them above Charlie's head. He takes a moment to let his gaze roam all over Charlie's flushed face. "I love you."

Charlie wraps his legs around Nick's waist. "I love you too."

It doesn't take long to reach the peak after that. As he often likes to do, Nick presses his face to Charlie's neck when his thrusts start gaining strength and speed, and Charlie lets the sensations of it wash over him, those rhythmic jolts of electricity and the gradually building heat. He can hear that Nick is on the precipice, recognizes the stutter in his moans and the rapid bounce of the mattress, so he wriggles a hand free and strokes himself to completion.

"God, you're so hot." Nick whimpers as Charlie gasps through it. Their mouths crash together again, sloppy and distracted, and Nick still keeps going, on the brink but unable to tip over it.

Charlie wraps his arms tight around him and starts whispering into his ear. “Come on, sweetheart.”

"Ah." Nick cries out, snaps his hips and stills, shuddering from the rapture of it, his chest damp and heaving against Charlie's. He all but collapses when the last ripples are over. "Oh, Charlie. That was…"

"Yeah..." Charlie closes his eyes. He walks his fingertips down Nick's spine, then back up. He kisses Nick's ear. "Admit it, you have a thing for sweet nothings."

Nick just hums and hugs him tighter, his nose still tucked into the crook of Charlie's neck. Charlie shakes him. "Hey, no falling asleep on me."

Moving as little as possible, Nick pulls out and shifts his hips off Charlie, but keeps his torso draped over him. "Better?"

Charlie grimaces. He can feel the wetness between his legs and he hates the sensation. This is the reason why they still use condoms sometimes. He tries to crawl out of Nick's embrace. "I'm going to take a shower."

Nick makes grabby hands after him. "No, stay with me a little longer."

"I'll be back in, like, ten minutes."

"Charlie…"

"Ten minutes!"

He doesn't look in the mirror because seeing Nick's marks on his body is a double-edged sword, sometimes it makes him happy, other times his self-conscious nature takes over, and he doesn't want to deal with that tonight. He climbs into the shower and rinses himself off, relishing the hot water on his skin. He's about to finish up when he hears the shower stall open, and Nick's hands touch his shoulders.

He laughs, unable to turn in the tiny space. "We don't fit, you dork."

"We can try."

He bats Nick's hands away and gets out. "You're so clingy today."

It's the wrong thing to say, perhaps, because Nick goes quiet, and Charlie has to dry himself in the awkward silence. But just when he's about to apologize, Nick pipes up on the other side of the shower's wall. "Char, can we go down to the beach after all?"

"Now? It's an hour-long drive. We won't catch the sunset, if that's what you're thinking."

"I still want to go."

Charlie breaks into a confused smile. "Okay."

~°~

The sky is purpling blue with billowy grey clouds when they arrive at the beach. Their beach, with its rocky shore and colourful huts. They take a walk along the empty bay while the water laps sluggishly at the shore. The wind teases the curls of Charlie's hair and makes Nick zip up the hoodie he stole back from Charlie's side of the wardrobe. They're quiet, and the lack of conversation worries Charlie. It wouldn't, normally, but Nick seems lost in thought again, and he said he had something to tell Charlie. What could it be?

At a spot near the water, Nick stops and they take a moment to watch the town's lights play on the waves. Then, he takes a deep breath, looking at Charlie then away again. Charlie doesn't know what it means.

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't really how I planned to do this, but uh…" He puts his hands in his pockets and turns one of his feet on its side. Charlie's eyes zero in on that movement, but he still can't put it together. "There's something I've been wanting to talk about for a while now."

"Don't - Don't say it." Charlie interrupts, panicking. They can't break up, he doesn't want to - everything was fine until Nick started behaving like this last month. What if it's a quarter-life crisis? "We can work it out, I'm sure, just let me know what's wrong and I can -"

"Charlie." Nick removes one hand from his pockets to squeeze Charlie's shoulder. "Nothing's wrong."

"Are you sure?"

The answer is an incredulous laugh. "Yes."

"Oh. Okay."

There's a pause when they try to read each other's expressions and fail.

"What?"

Charlie hides his hands in the sleeves of his sweater. "Just. You've been quiet in the past couple of weeks. A bit distant sometimes."

"Oh." Nick's eyes go round in genuine surprise. "I didn't notice. I'm sorry if I came across like that. Just had a lot on my mind, really."

Charlie nods, waiting with his heart in his throat. He doesn't expect Nick to step close and stick his own hand into the sleeve of Charlie's sweater to hold Charlie's fingers.

"You're my best friend." Nick starts. His palm is clammy. "You're everything I've ever wanted in a partner, and… I kind of prepared a speech but I'm too nervous -" He stammers.

Charlie's heartbeat races for an entirely different reason now. He feels like he's back in that empty room at Harry's sixteenth birthday party, leaning in to kiss his crush and hoping he isn't dreaming. It's surreal to see the same wildly nervous light in Nick's eyes and the determination in his jaw to barrel through his fears nevertheless.

"I just love you so much." Nick says, leaning even closer. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Charlie has to squeeze Nick's hand not to faint. Nick gives him a long, hopeful look, then pulls his other hand out of his pocket. There's a little box in it, and when Nick pops it open between their chests, Charlie sees a ring.

"Will you marry me?"

Charlie doesn't think it's embarrassing that after the emotional rollercoaster he put himself through, he bursts into tears.

"Yes." He laughs. "Obviously."

He barely keeps himself from sobbing into the kiss Nick presses to his lips. He continues to smile and cry at the same time as he watches Nick's trembling hands put the ring on his finger. When it's finally on, he throws his arms around Nick and hugs him tight. Nick's face presses into its usual place on Charlie's shoulder. "I never thought this would happen to me."

Nick clutches him tighter. "Me neither."

"I can't believe you asked me after your class reunion."

"I told you I didn't plan it like that! I just couldn't keep it a secret from you any longer. You were already catching on."

Charlie strokes Nick's hair. "You really want to get married?

There's a second of silence, then Nick pulls back and laughs. "Yeah. Isn't that obvious?"

Charlie opens his mouth, but he can't say anything, he's grinning too hard. With a fond smile, Nick shakes his head and presses their foreheads together. "Do you want me to pick you up and shout it out loud?"

"Please, don't." Charlie chuckles, but Nick's already running into the sea, spreading his arms and turning towards Charlie.

"I love Charlie Spring, in a romantic way, not just a friend way!"

From one of the houses closest to the beach, someone hoots. Charlie covers his face with his hands. He can hear the squelch of Nick's shoes - he's going to be the one to drive them back to the hotel now, isn't he? "My God, you're so cringe."

Nick's laughter rumbles in his ear. His arms wrap around Charlie's waist. "You love it."

Charlie sighs, but the kiss he lays on Nick's lips is soft and tender. "I really do."

🍂End🍂

[luveline]

a special friend, part two [Fred Weasley, George Weasley x reader]

tags: reader-insert, platonic relationships, friendship, can be read as romantic for either or both, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, implied/referenced self-harm, dissociation, quiet reader, shy reader, sad reader

relationships: fred weasley x reader, george weasley x reader

wordcount: 3.2k

read part one here

The common room was always so clean. The house-elves must work themselves half to death with effort, as you never saw a hair or speck of dust where there ought not to be one. The small refreshment table filled and refilled through every new day and the fireplace was always roaring on cold winter nights. It was especially cold that evening, and so the members of Gryffindor house benefited from a crackling fire and hot chocolate coming out of the ears.

You basked in the warmth of the flame, sitting cross-legged before it. A cup of hot chocolate cooled in between your hands, which were both laden with bandaids and germolene. Fred and George’s orders, of course. You were not to scratch, bite or mess in any detrimental way with your hands, arms or skin. If you did, you were to report to them for immediate bandaging.

At first, they’d simply been spelling each wound away. This had an opposite effect, as the freshly healed skin was perfect for picking whenever your mood turned - which was often. You found yourself blinded and basked in the light of being cared for by others, and although you may have preferred complete autonomy over your own body, you couldn’t say you minded the attentiveness of the twins. They’d made it their personal mission to prevent any self-harm, accidental or purposeful. You weren’t sure you even knew the difference half the time.

A quiet had settled over the room. It seemed as though each red and gold student was content to breathe in the smell of chestnut and pine in peaceful, companionable silence. You found yourself smiling kindly at each person who looked your way. You couldn’t imagine having done that before you had become acquainted with the twins.

Acquainted was a word you used to protect yourself. Friendly was too confident, too firm. You sometimes dreamt of horror stories where you, confident and comfortable, admitted how much you cared for them. In these dreams, they laughed in your face. Poked fun at your hope.

Of course, Fred and George weren’t cruel. If they felt that way, they certainly wouldn’t rub it in your face or make you feel embarrassed about it. But some shame never went away, and you carried it like an ever-burning torch.

Despite the pleasant warmth of the room, chills racked your spine at the thought. You pushed it from your head, attempting to think of anything else. You traced a pattern through the braided strands of the rug you were lazing upon, first the flames of a bonfire towering ten feet tall, then a mirror of the powdered sugar landscape outside.

Two warm bodies settled in the carpet on either side of you. A long arm wrapped around your shoulders confidently. The floral scent of your perfume mingled with the strong scent of burning caramel and something woody, the signature fragrance of the Weasley twins.

George moved first, plonking a stuffed toy into your lap. He positioned the neck carefully so that the teddy bear was sat as comfortable as you were.

“For you,” said Fred.

“An early Christmas gift,” George added.

The bear was spotted unusually like some sort of hybrid creature. You wondered where they could possibly have acquired such an artefact.

“We saw him and thought of you,” they said together.

That was rich. And maybe correct. After all, it was a weird looking plushie and you weren’t exactly renowned for your normality. You didn’t say much, simply handing off your cold drink to George without so much as a sideways glance and brought the bear to your face. You grazed your nose against its brown stomach and inhaled, breathing in its clean scent.

Both twins were used to the general quietness that came with your presence and didn’t pressure any response. You knew you should’ve said thank you, or even smiled gratefully, but you just couldn’t make your mouth move the way you wanted. You placed your hand on each brothers leg and applied the barest amount of pressure, hoping it showed gratitude.

“Well, I’m starving.”

“I’m so glad you said so, my brother.”

“Yes, I’m craving something savory, Gred.”

“Something juicy, Forge.”

“Such as?”

You looked between them like a muggle attending a tennis match, back and forth and back and forth. They ran circles around you for their own enjoyment, you assumed, but maybe also to make you feel more included.

“Y/N, fancy a trek to the kitchens?”

Before you could say no, or yes, or make up your mind and decide what it was you wanted to do, your stomach growled. Fred grinned wickedly.

They ushered you out of the portrait hole and down the stairs without preamble, flanking your sides like bodyguards. You didn’t mind, taking time to smile at the castle ghosts and portraits as you went.

The twins shot each other looks when they thought you couldn’t see. One said, how do you think she is? Another said, I think she’s however you think she is. Both said, she seems okay today.

It would feel a little patronizing if it weren’t so foreign - to have people care about your well-being so deeply they made changes to their day to see you and went out of their way to make you feel good; you’d find it condescending if it wasn’t so delightful.

That is to say, you felt conflicted. Happy that somebody cared, ashamed that they also felt concerned. They worried over everything these days, what you ate and what classes you had and oh, ghostie, do you need help with that? Y/N, sweetheart, let me carry that for you, lest your arms grow too tired.

It was… nice. It was nice, even if it was painful. Sometimes, it reminded you why you didn’t allow yourself the pleasure of friendship in the first place.

You hummed to yourself. Making sound had become a little easier. You weren’t inclined to say a whole lot, but allowing yourself to be louder, to take up space, had come easier the longer you spent with them. Neither Fred nor George minded if you huffed after too many stairs or if you clicked gobstones together at the foot of their beds.

The song was one of those cheesy Christmas numbers you’d heard on the radio. It was warm and comforting, bringing tears to your eyes if you thought about it too much. George slipped into song with you easily, humming much more loudly and obnoxiously. Fred just grinned to himself, keeping dutiful watch of the corridors.

You bubbled like a shaken can of coke by the time you arrived at the painting that enclosed the kitchen doorway, feeling too happy for your own good. Despite feeling very hungry, not a lick of fatigue or unhappiness tinged your mood, though the fuzzy numbness of every day threatened your well-being if you stopped to think too long.

The door swung open obediently after your half-hearted tickle insisted upon by the boys.

“What do you feel like, Y/N, sweet or savoury? There’s bound to be something you’ll fancy,” George said.

You held in a grimace. There were lots of things you wanted to try, the kitchens smelled like so many amazing things. The cloying smells of jam and treacle and custard, the hearty scents of gravy and roast dinner. It was too bad, then, that most everything you ate tasted stale. For years, your tastebuds had been slacking. During your worst days, food held no taste at all, resulting in your decreased appetite.

A tingling began in your fingers. You didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, how to convey that you didn’t really feel up to anything at all. You knew they would protest as they always did when you didn’t eat.

“Bread,” you managed. Bread was a safe choice. Dense enough to feel filling, easy to keep down, and bland to begin with.

Both boys were frowning but trying not to at your choice.

George moved forward, catching the attention of a harrowed looking house elf. They conversed with familiarity and soon you were being beckoned to a table that was relatively clear. Within minutes you were surrounded by bread, crusty rolls and sliced sourdough.

George casually nudged a bowl of tomato soup in your direction.

The surface shined with grease. It even had a swirl of cream and a sprig of basil afloat.

He looked at you, eyes pleading.

“You too,” you said.

This appeased him. The boys sat across from you with their own bowls, eating in the horrific way that teenage boys do. By the time they’d finished, you’d managed half of your own meal and two slices of bread. The nausea you experienced from just existing was starting to build, accompanied by the disappointment of your bland meal. You’d hoped an improved mood would help your appetite, but you still felt unsatisfied.

The boys grabbed a passing plate of tarts and ice cream.

Your good mood was wearing thin. You bit down on the tip of your thumb and stared at the grain of the table.

You bit down harder.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t do that,” Fred said, reaching forward as if to grab your hand. You pushed it under the table.

George pushed the plate of confectionary closer to you. “Chew on one of these instead, hm?”

You took it all back - this was patronising. Lovely and thoughtful and very, excruciatingly patronising.

You didn’t want to say no, or push it away, or eat anything else or even laugh it off. You wanted to do nothing. You lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes. You caught a murmur or two between them, though you couldn’t make out the words with your ear pressed so hard against the wood and the other covered by your falling hair. The table was smooth and cool under your skin.

A chair scraped against the floor. Footsteps. A broad hand against your back.

“You’re like a steam train running out of coal sometimes.”

You knew he was hoping for a response, a joke, a sign you’d been cheered up.

Through slow blinks, you could make out his face. Endlessly amused and a little sad, framed by the candlelight. He was beautiful, you thought absently. They were both beautiful.

“You okay?” he said quietly.

“Mm,”

“Mm? Is mm a yes or a no?”

“Mm,”

“Alright,” he said, rubbing a soothing path up between your shoulder blades and down again. It would’ve been dizzying if you could think straight, it made the numbness a little woozy. You preened beneath his touch like a pleased cat, feeling the unhappiness melt just a little.

It was crazy how affection could make you feel better, even if it didn’t always solve the problem.

Embarrassed, you mumbled, “you’re going to kill me.”

Fred smiled. “How so?”

“You’re fattening me up like a lamb to slaughter.”

He didn’t quite laugh, huffing through his nose. He really was very handsome up close. His hair was curling at just below his ears, a lush auburn colour that complemented his pale, freckle adorned skin. His eyes were a heart-melting brown so that his pupils were lost. The look he gave you was searing like he knew exactly what you were thinking about him. Your ears were tinged with heat, cheeks filling with colour.

He retracted his hand.

“Wrap some of those up, Georgie. Ghostie needs her bed.”

“It shall be done, brother mine!”

You smiled despite yourself.

-

For your birthday, the twins had gifted you a simple necklace. The chain was silver, reaching to just below your collar bone. It had no charm or jewel. It was perfect.

It helped you sometimes when you felt out of it to run it between two fingers or tug it gently from left to right, feeling the chain links rolling behind your neck.

You’d tried that, among every other coping mechanism drilled into your head by George and Fred over the past few weeks. You drew circles were you wanted to scratch, put plasters over fingertips you wanted to pick at. You took big breaths and did the stretches George insisted on. You even tried getting a full night’s sleep - nothing worked.

It filled you with guilt. You felt as though you were letting them both down by struggling.

You stared out the window of the dormitory at the sky, moonlight spilling onto your skin and staining your clothes a gauzy silver. You’d read once that sometimes when the planets were in rotation, you could see them as though they were as close as the moon.

This didn’t seem right to you. How could Mars seem so close? It was an optical illusion. The planets revolved around the sun, but humans had once thought they revolved around Earth instead.

It must’ve been a very strange experience to realise you weren’t as important as you thought. The Earth was just the Earth, spinning and wobbling its path through space.

You shook your head, feeling lost. It was ridiculous to project your feelings on the solar system. But still, you couldn’t help but feel like, despite its inhabitants and its systems, the Earth was so lonely.

Your necklace began to grow cold until it was almost like ice against your skin. One of the twins, or maybe both, had charmed it to change temperature. Cold usually meant, ‘Ghostie, you awake?’

You cringed against the sensation. Why couldn’t they booty call you like normal young men, throwing stones at your window with a boom box? Or, for merlin’s sake, an owl?

You grumbled to yourself, throwing the fleece blanket from your body. You were hardly dressed for company in knickers and a tank top, so you threw on a grey zip-up jacket and a pair of pyjama shorts that were hardly any better than the knickers. Luckily the jacket hung past the shorts. You wanted to care that you were dressed scantily, really, but the boys wouldn’t care and you didn’t have it in you to find something else.

You trekked down the stairs, your trainer socks slippery against the well-worn wood. Fred stretched languidly in front of the fireplace, a pack of exploding snap cards and a mountain of chocolate frogs beside him whilst George was sitting much more straight-backed on the sofa.

“I’m cold,” you said, announcing your arrival. The redheads turned to look at you over their shoulders. Fred rolled his eyes at you and flicked his wand. The necklace slowly heated until it was pleasantly warm against your collarbones.

You clambered over the back of the sofa with little grace, folding your knees underneath you and leaning heavily against George’s arm. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“If I were a lesser man, I’d ask where your bottoms were, Y/L/N,” said Fred, shuffling the cards dexterously.

You raised your jacket wordlessly, exposing your bottoms.

“Wouldn’t you know, they were there the whole time.”

“You assumed the same as me, George.”

George didn’t reply, though his expression said he was similarly embarrassed.

“And do you always let girls you presume to be half-naked climb all over you?” you asked.

“So talkative,” George chastened.

“Don’t change the subject! I’m interested in the answer,” said Fred.

“Oh shove off! You insufferable tyrants.”

Ah, so he knows how it feels now, you thought. You looked up into his face, the line of his jaw.

You looked down at your legs, feeling fatigued. Smooth stretches of skin and fine hair interrupted only by thin white lines. The low light made them almost impossible to see. They shined like silver when you moved, caught by the light of a nearby candle. They felt a lifetime away now when a young you had used pins and quills and little carving knives to punish yourself for bad behaviour.

You traced a slightly thicker one with a pointed fingernail. You pushed it nastily into the scar, but it didn’t hurt.

You sighed.

Fred and George were half arguing about something you didn’t catch, Fred through a mouthful of chocolate.

It was hard, always being miserable. People often criticized the moody for ruining the mood, but it wasn’t as if you could choose how to be. You wanted to wake each day and be happy and entertaining and absurdly good-natured, like the twins. It was an abject cruelty, then, that every day you woke up and felt the immeasurable dread of continuing on another day. Not even magic could help you with that.

You rejected Fred’s offer to play, happy to sit and watch the boys play. You let yourself slide into the space George had vacated, curling into a tight ball. Your stomach hurt.

Godric, there was always something fucking wrong with you.

You were frustrated. The boys could tell. Their game of snap was stretched thin, and you knew it was your fault. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of singed hair, restless. You squirmed against the warm leather under your skin, feeling sticky and out of sorts.

You closed your eyes against the aching and slept.

You woke up crying.

Fred shifted in his sleep. He was leaning against your legs, his hair and face smushed into the leather beneath you. George was facedown in the carpet. You pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle any sound.

The clock on the wall read 4 minutes past 4 o’clock in the morning. You’d only managed an hour and a half of sleep.

You couldn’t remember what you’d been dreaming. Maybe somewhere familiar. Faces you recognized. It didn’t matter, only the feeling of being crushed by the air. You reached out without thinking, grabbing Fred’s shoulder.

He roused gracelessly, blinking through squinted eyes at you. A hard sob rocked you to the core, the feeling of breathlessness sinking deep into your chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

You couldn’t answer. You grasped for his arm, begging him to do something, to save you. You felt as though you were going to run out of air.

“Hey, you’re alright. You’re okay. Let’s breathe, should we? Breathe with me.” He grabbed the hand you’d pushed over your mouth and brought it to his chest. You could feel him take a huge inhale and you tried your best to replicate it.

“Good! That’s good. You’re doing so well.” Another big breath, a long exhale.

“You feel that? The leather under you.” He grabbed your free hand and put it on the seat. “Feels weird, huh? Dimples and wrinkles.” He dragged your hand over the texture repeatedly.

A big breath.

Eventually, your breathing returned. The crying stayed.

“Don’t cry, ghost.”

You frowned. It was odd to be looking down at Fred instead of up. He pressed your hand tighter to his chest.

“Bad dream?”

“Don’t remember,” you whispered.

“It was just a dream. You’re okay. I promise.”

George snored. Fred rolled his eyes. You laughed through the tears, blinking the last of them away.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

You knew he was telling the truth.

[waitimcomingtoo]

touch

chapter three: contact

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: you love him, but you can never touch him

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Peter found you brushing your teeth in the bathroom that connected your rooms. He wordlessly got out his toothbrush and starting brushing his own teeth at the other sink. You looked at him in the mirror before spitting and drying you face. As you were putting your toothpaste back in the drawer, you accidentally closed it on your finger.

“Ouch.” You jumped as you yanked your finger back, inspecting it for broken skin. It wasn’t injured, just throbbing. You looked at Peter out of the corner of your eye before touching his arm with the throbbing finger and sending the pain into him.

“Ow.” Peter jumped a little and looked at you in confusion.

“I thought you wanted me to touch you.” You replied sarcastically to prove a point.

“Is this a joke to you?” Peter asked bitterly as he glared at you.

“Joking is the only way I can deal with this.” You answered honestly.

“We don’t have to deal with this. We could just be together.” He said solemnly as he put his toothbrush away. You looked at Peter in the mirror and sighed sadly.

“It’s too big of a risk, Peter.” You frowned. “I love you too much to put you through that.”

“And I love you too much to accept this ending.” He stated as he turned to look at you.

“You think I want this?” You laughed sadly as you stepped up to him. “You think I don’t want to kiss you whenever I want? Or hold your hand? I want all of that. But I can’t have it. I can’t risk it.”

“So because you might hurt me, we can’t be together?” He asked. “It’s not like you ever hurt me before.”

“But I’ve hurt other people before.” You said gravely, coming as a surprise to Peter.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked as he saw a sadness cloud your eyes. You looked down for a minute and sighed before shrugging and folding your arms.

“I had a best friend when I was younger. We were just like you and I. We spent every day together but I didn’t touch her because of what I could do. I was so careful.” Your voice cracked as you shook your head. “I tried so hard to keep her safe.”

“What happened?” Peter began to worry when he saw how worked up you were getting.

“She had a peanut allergy that I didn’t know about. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she didn’t know about. She ran up to me at recess and hugged me and-“ You sucked in a breath as tears streamed down your face. Peter looked at you with sympathy and put his hand as close to yours as he could without touching it.

“She died, Peter.” You whispered. “I killed her.”

“You didn’t know.” Peter tried to comfort you.

“Exactly.” You cried. “But I do now, and I can never make that mistake again.”

All at once, Peter understood why you were so hellbent on not touching. You were traumatized, and you didn’t want to repeat history. Peter took a step towards you and hovered over you, giving you the impression he was going to kiss you.

“Peter, don’t.” You said softly.

“I’m not gonna touch you.” He said. “I just want to tell you that I understand.”

“You do?” You asked hopefully.

“I hate it.” Peter admitted. “I hate that it has to be this way. But I understand.”

You stared at him for a moment before smilingly softly in appreciation. You picked up piece of paper off the counter and kissed it before tucking it into Peter’s pajama pocket.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you, peaches. You didn’t deserve that.” Peter apologized as he held his hand over his pocket.

“It’s okay. I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did. I was hurting too.”

“So do we just go back to being friends? Friends who are in love?” Peter laughed sadly.

“Unless you want to be in a relationship where we never touch each other.” You laughed, equally as sad. Peter chuckled softly before making a face.

“I mean…” He looked at you shyly and shrugged a little.

“You’d actually want to do that?” You asked curiously.

“I would.” He confirmed. “I’d rather be limited with you than unlimited with anyone else.”

“Okay.” You nodded eagerly. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Peter sighed in relief and leaned down, lips almost touching yours but not quite.

“I love you, peaches.” He whispered, lips grazing yours as he spoke. You sucked in a sharp breath, inhaling him and his scent.

“I love you too, Peter.”

~

Peter was working on mission plans for Tony the following week when he got a text from you.

“Meet me in the lab.”

His eyebrows knit in a straight line as he set his pen down. He quickly made his way to the lab and found you inside, holding something behind your back.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you as he walked into the lab.

“Hey.” You smiled back. “I um, I made something. Well, actually, Dr. Banner made most of it but I gave him the idea.”

“What is it?” Peter wondered as you took a small, silver device out from behind your back.

“Its um, it’s a stun ray.” You laughed nervously. “It stuns you and temporarily takes away your powers.”

“What are you planning on doing with it?” Peter asked curiously. You picked up the gun, shrugged, and shot yourself in the chest. Peter immediately rushed to you to see if you were hurt.

“Are you okay?” He asked once he got to you.

“Uh huh.” You said through a smile before pulling him into a kiss. Peter’s eyes widened before fluttering shut as his arms enclosed around your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your torso, kissing you with everything he had. You ran your fingers through his hair before letting them rest on his face, kissing him deeply to make up for all the time you had lost. Peter only pulled away when he couldn’t breathe, resting his forehead against yours as he panted. Tears of joy slipped down his cheeks, making him take your face in his hands and kiss your forehead.

“Does it last forever?” He whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, keeping his arms securely around your waist.

“20 minutes.” You said as you rubbed his chest. Peter nodded before leaning down and kissing you again, just as passionately as before. He pulled away suddenly and held you back from him.

“Wait. As much as I want to kiss you, and I do, I really just wanna…” Unable to find the words to say, Peter trailed off and pulled you into a hug. He held you tightly and rested his chin on the top of your head, swaying softly back and forth as he rubbed your back. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his chest, taking in his scent in a way you never could before. You felt so close to him that you could cry, griping his shirt to pull him even tighter.

“I love you, Peter.” You mumbled in his ear.

“I love you too, Peaches.” He said back before pulling out of the hug. “Hold my hand, please.”

He held up his hand in the way he did that one day in the kitchen and this time, you interlocked your fingers with his. He held up his other hand and you did the same, hands clasped tightly around each other’s.

“This is nice.” Peter laughed softly. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

“I know.” You nodded. “I wanted this too.”

“You’re so beautiful.” Peter sighed as he took your face between his hands again and rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. He let his hands trail down your arms before taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. “Beautiful, beautiful Angel.”

You smiled with joy as your touched his face, memorizing the features under your fingertips.

“Your skin is so smooth. And your hair.” You gushed as you have it a tug. “So soft.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Peter chuckled, leaning in to your touch the way he always wanted and placing a kiss on your palm.

“I love it.” You told him as your carded your fingers through his curls.

“How often can we do this?” Peter asked as he drummed his fingers on your waist. “How often can you use the stun gun?”

“Dr. Banner said it’s only safe to use once a day.” You frowned slightly, but Peter lit up in a smile.

“I get to touch you everyday?” He asked hopefully as he took your hands in his.

“For 20 minutes, yeah.” You nodded, smiling as well now.

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Peter sighed happily before kissing you again. “How much longer do we have?”

“Seven minutes.” You told him as you checked your phone.

“Dance with me?” He requested as he assumed waltzing position. You smiled softly and nodded as you began to sway back and forth to music that wasn’t playing. Peter rested his head on your shoulder after a minute as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow dance.

“I like this dance much better than the one we used to do.” You mumbled against his neck before placing a kiss there.

“I know, Peaches.” Peter sighed in content. “Me too.”

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[disasterofastory]

Yule Ball (Severus Snape x Reader)

Yule Ball young!Severus Snape x Reader Warning: none

Y/N asks young!Severus Snape to be her date.

The Yule Ball is something everybody waits for. You can feel the excitement in the whole castle. Students speak about their dresses while the teachers try to maintain the right behavior they expect from the teenagers. You can hear the boys stuttering words here and there, asking somebody to be their partner for the night. And the girls wait for the big question with knots in their stomachs. It would be awkward to go to the Ball without a partner, and it doesn’t help with your anxiety. You know who you want to go with, but you aren’t sure he knows you exist.

You have a few days before the Ball, and you know, you can’t postpone it anymore. If you want to go with Severus Snape, you have to ask him now.

Right now.

The place is almost empty as you step into the huge library. The shelves tower over you with thousands of books about magic. You can smell the old parchments and inks, walking among the rows, searching the boy you want to talk with.

You find him after a long walk, sitting on a sofa with book piles around him. You can’t see his face because of his black hair and his back hunched as he reads. For a few moments, you stare at the shelves, trying to gather all of your courage. You know he is not really friendly, and there is a big chance he breaks your heart, but you are a Gryffindor. You are brave.

And utterly in love with a Slytherin who probably doesn’t even know your name.

You take a deep breath as you turn to the boy on the sofa. You clear your throat, hoping it’s enough for him to look at you. It’s not. His body becomes rigid, hearing your presence but he doesn’t lookup. “Severus,” you say his name to grab his attention. Your voice is almost a whisper, and your throat tightens as he looks up at you with an annoyed expression. His black eyes shine with impatience, and you want to disappear into thin air to escape from his rude stare. “What?” He asks you harshly when the only thing you do is standing before him with a closing and opening mouth. “I want to ask you to be my date,” you answer with one deep breath. Your whole body freezes as you wait for the boy's answer. You can see the surprise and a slight blush on his face before it vanishes. He frowns as he looks around for the others. He thinks it's a joke. He will say yes, and your housemates will jump out from their hiding place to laugh at him. He is sure of it. “Go away,” he replies, looking back at his book. He reads the same page since you appeared. “No,” you argue almost angrily. Here you are almost fainting from the stress, and he doesn’t even think about it. “What?” He asks you again, shocked. You don’t seem the type who is brave enough to start to argue with him when he is so dismissive. It definitely surprises him. “I asked you to be my date at the Ball, and I deserve an answer,” you reply stubbornly. “Are you serious?” His voice is a little bit friendlier but still unsure about your offer. He looks around again to find a sign that you want to play a mean game with him, but he doesn’t find anything. It’s only you and him at the back of the library. “As a heart attack,” you answer with a nod, still waiting for his decision. You can feel your rapid heartbeat in your chest and your palms sweaty as you wipe it on your black robes. “Can you dance?” He asks you. “I won’t step in your toes if that’s what you want to know,” you answer, and he almost smirks at your words. “Okay,” he nods in the end. “Okay, as you will come with me?” “Yes,” he nods again, looking at your reaction. He is still cautious about your interest in him, but your smile, hearing his final answer seems honest. “Okay,” you say, but mostly for yourself as you turn around to be on your way. The only reason you don’t jump up and down from happiness because you don’t see the huge smile on Severus's face as he turns back to his book.

You don’t have many choices about what to wear for the night, but you still find a dark red, long-sleeved, strapless dress. The soft fabric hugs your upper body while the skirt part is hanging around your legs in pleats. You feel beautiful in it, but it doesn’t help with your anxiety when you step out of the corridor, and your eyes find Severus immediately. He stands far from the others, leaning to the wall behind him. He wears a black tuxedo with a long robe, like the other boys. He looks up at you, and his breath catches in his throat. He blushes as you step before him with a gentle smile. “Hey,” you greet him, your voice trembles from excitement. “You are beautiful,” he says without thinking, and you can feel your skin getting warmer as you look down on your legs and back up at him. “I’m glad you came,” you answer, and he almost jumps as he wakes up from his awe. He straightens his back as he offers his arms to you. Your walk is slow to the Great Hall. Both of you want to remember these few moments before your bubbles bursts because of the others. The Hall is beautifully adorned with white Christmas decors. Snowflakes fall from the enchanted ceiling without touching the floor. The tables are full of drinks and food next to the walls and in the center of the Hall is a huge Christmas tree with ornaments and candles. “It’s beautiful,” you sigh, looking around in awe. Severus nods but in reality, the only thing he finds beautiful is you. Your red dress stands out among the white decors and lights. As you walk around beside Severus, trying to talk with him to relieve the tension, you find a few similar faces. Your friends stand next to their dates, speaking and laughing in colorful dresses. “You can go to them, you know?” Severus says when he notices your gaze. “No,” you shake your head. “I can speak with them anytime, but I don’t know how many times I can find you in that huge library,” you continue, looking up at him cheekily. “I’m not that hard to find,” he argues weakly. “And hey, did you search for me before?” “Yes,” you nod. “You know, asking you to be my partner wasn’t a last-minute idea.” “Oh,” he says, surprised. Until now, he tried to convince himself that the only reason you asked him because you didn’t have other choices. “I like you,” you continue your confession. You feel brave enough to do it under the Christmas lights and with the quiet music in the background. “I would like to know you more if it’s okay with you.” You fidget with a wrinkle on your dress as you wait for his answer. “I would like that,” he replies with a nod. You beam up at him, hearing his answer, and the music starts to get louder as the others gathered in the Great Hall. “Do you wanna dance?” You ask him, still smiling. A few of your classmates already rock back and forth in sync with the slow music. Without an answer, he grabs your hand gently to lead you to the dancefloor. His touch on your hand and waist is uncertain at first. He still waits for your rejection and humiliation because he believed he has a chance with you. You place your free hand on his shoulder, looking up at him. Severus’s steps are smooth and easy. He leads you around the others without effort. You can see the Hall’s lights in his black eyes as you stare at each other. You feel his warmth pressing to your body, and you can even see a small smile on the corner of his lips. “You are really beautiful,” he says much braver than before. He looks at you the whole time as the two of you dance, and he can’t get enough of your soft expression under the lights. “Thank you,” you smile, squeezing his hands softly.

The music starts to get more upbeat as the dancefloor gets crowded. You can feel Severus becomes rigid and uncomfortable around so many people. “Do you want to go out?” You ask him. “I don’t want to ruin your night,” he says, shaking his head. Of course, he feels uncomfortable. He can feel the surprised glances on him as they see you in his arms. “It’s too hot inside,” you tell him, grabbing his hand to pull him with you.

The cold night air feels good on your heated skin. You hear hushed giggles and whispers around you from couples who wished for some lone time after the drinks and dances. You walk with Severus far in the garden to find yourself a small nook too where you can be with him without the students' and teachers' curious eyes. “I’m happy you asked me,” he tells you after a while, looking out of the dark bushes and trees. His face is red despite the cold. “I’m happy you said yes,” you smile up at him, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers. “I wasn’t even sure you know who I am.” “Of course I know,” he says vehemently. “We have a bunch of classes together.” “Would you like to… I don’t know… hang out with me after the Ball too?” You ask him. Severus is almost sure it’s just a dream. You are here, holding his hand in a beautiful dress that doesn’t compare to your smile and shining eyes, and you ask him to spend more time with you. “I would love to,” he answers in awe. Maybe he doesn’t sure about reality and dreams, but he is sure he wants to do anything if it’s mean he can be with you.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Mine | Anthony Beauvillier

Requested? Always... by me

Warnings? None?

Summary: You reflect on your relationship with Tito

Word Count: 1,516

Italic parts are flashbacks as always

Tangled in the arms of the man you love, your eyes wander across his features. You smile as your eyes fall over his full eyelashes, the curve of his lips, the tiny dimple in his cheek. Your heart filled and filled and filled looking at Beau. Like a waterfall cascading down over the same smooth rocks, Beau’s love was familiar, perfect, and never-ending.

“Hey,” Beau says and your eyes drag up to his, the shiny blues staring down at you.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Your mind had wandered back and forth a bit, thinking about random things but mostly remaining on the beautiful boy before you.

“Remember when we first met?” You ask and Beau shakes his head, an embarrassed smile slipping onto his lips.

“Hello ladies, welcome to dockside what can I-“

Beau paused his usual spiel as he finally looks up to see who he’s greeting. His heart seizes in his chest and moves to his throat making it hard to speak.

You were the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen. Every feature, every detail about you struck him instantaneously. And he quickly realized how long he had been standing there staring at you in awe.

“Can I get you anything to start?” he finishes, his eyes flickering to you over and over.

Beau was in agony the entire time waiting on you. He stumbled over his words, nearly dropped drinks, plates, with one look of the eye he had been captivated by you instantaneously. His mind was on you the entire time, wanting to talk to you, know you, he already started falling and he didn’t even know your name.

By the time dinner is over, Beau watches as you should be heading out with your friends but you tell them you’ll meet them at the car. He watches as your head swivels, looking for something or someone. When you look in his direction though, you stop and start to walk towards him.

He’s frozen as he watches you walk, nerves and wonder in his eyes. When you reach him you offer a dazzling smile.

“Hi,” you say and Beau short circuits instantly. “You were my waiter right?”

“Yes,” is all he can muster back.

“Thank you for the excellent service,” you wink at him before handing a piece of paper to him, bounding off to your friends.

Beau could only watch you leave, shell shocked by your interaction. He eventually shakes himself out of it, pulling open the paper he gave you. His mouth drops open when he sees your name and number scrawled across in neat handwriting.

“Can you believe it?” you ask reminiscing on the best night of your life.

“God I was so nervous around you,” he admits and you grin widely up at him.

“I didn’t believe in love back then. I never thought it would turn into this,” you tell him and he smiles softly at you.

You sit outside, relaxed back on your porch as you wait for Beau to pick you up. It was what you were pretty sure was your fifth official date, in between all of the little hangouts and the facetime calls.

Finally, his truck roars to a stop in front of your house and you find yourself bounding over to it. You swing open the door, launching yourself into the passenger seat before turning to look at Beau. He’s already staring at you, utter awe and wonder on his face, and before either of you can say anything he’s driving off.

You end up at a restaurant on the water, and after eating too much and laughing too loud you head out to the nearest pier. Beau tangles his hand into yours and you lean into his touch, soaking in the summer air and the cologne of the boy next to you.

He tugs at your hand till you’re sitting at the edge of the pier, legs dangling over in danger of falling in at any second. From your shoulders, all the way down you and Beau are connected, never-ending.

With a calculated thought, he slides his arm up, wrapping gently around your shoulders for the first time. You turn and look at him and he offers you that special soft smile, the one seemingly reserved for you and hidden from the rest of the world.

You kiss him until that smile is imprinted into your skin.

“Well I am quite persuasive,” Beau says, still reminiscing.

“Shut up,” you joke.

“Move in with me,” Beau is all wide eyes and hard-set determination.

“What?” you ask, wanting to make sure you heard him right.

“Live with me. I want to come home to you every day.”

You cant even find the words, the words that you never thought would want to surface after everything you had been through. And yet here you were.

You jump straight into his arms, the hockey player catching you with ease and wrapping you up into his arms. He already feels like home.

The next morning you wake up in a haze of smiles and tangled limbs and having no earthly idea what’s going to happen next to you two. Beau is already awake, memorizing the lines of your eyes and the curve of your lips, and the way you snore. He’s whipped.

“You hesitated last night,” he speaks softly.

You turn and look at him, and his soft eyes crawl across your face. He’s trying to understand you from the outside, knowing your emotions lie on your face.

“Did I ever tell you about my parents’ marriage?” you ask quietly and Beau shakes his head.

“My parents loved each other, but they shouldn’t have stayed together if that makes sense. They should have separated when I was a kid, but stayed together for my brother and me,” you explain softly and he takes your hand, pressing light kisses over your knuckles as you talk.

“Baby for as long as I live, that won’t be us. Okay?”

“Hey,” Beau says, pulling your attention back to him.

“I. Love. You. So. Much.” he enunciates each word with a kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and your lips.

“I’m gonna love you forever.”

You paced uncertainly back and forth in the living room of yours and Anthony’s apartment. He was supposed to be home after the game hours ago. But you watched as he heads to a bar and then another one and it’s left you worried and frustrated.

He had been going out a lot recently, and not that it bothered you for him to be hanging out with his friends, it’s that you didn’t know where he was. That you had been going to bed at all hours of the night and only sometimes waking up with Beau next to you.

By the time Beau shows up, it’s 2:30 am, and you’re worn thin. The door swings open, and your head whips to see him waltzing in. You’re about to say something but hold up a hand, not even knowing where to start.

“Are you okay?” you ask first, wanting to make sure everything was alright.

“I’m-I’m fine,” he stutters out and you recognize with clarity that he’s not drunk, not even tipsy.

“Okay good,” you let out a breath. “Then may I ask what the fuck you’ve been doing for the past few nights?”

Your hands fall to your hips and Beau thinks for a moment you distinctly look like your mom. All frown lines and tight lips. He never wants you to look at him that way again.

“I’ve just been out,” he tries and your arms flail out, smacking against the outer part of your thigh.

“Out?”

“With the guys,” he finishes and flinches before you even say anything.

“Beau, I can't keep doing this.”

Even if Beau wasn’t drunk he knew that one sentence would slap him sober. He takes several steps forward trying to gain some balance back, attempt to tether himself back to you, the constant anchor in his life.

“Baby,” he says brokenly.

Your face is tear-stained, fresh tears covering the tracks of the old ones. Ones he wishes he could have pushed away and promised his love was there and never-ending.

He takes another step forward but you flew past him, out the door, and towards the street. You didn’t know where you were going at the moment, but just knew you couldn’t be near Beau right now.

Just as you pause, a sob leaving your lips you feel a hand on your wrist turning you around to face him. Another sob works its way out of you and you raise your hands, only to drop them in defeat.

Beau pulls you into his chest and you cry against him. He rubs your back, whispering into your hair. Finally, you come to a halt and look up at Beau.

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“You’re the best thing that has ever been mine,” Beau whispers and you smile into his chest, a rare sun-stopping smile and Beau falls for you all over again.

“And you’re mine.”

[nishisun]

DORM BUDDIES

30. well....

DORM BUDDIES MASTERLIST

warning: slight smut (fingering)

Shit.

Was your initial thought after reading Tsukishima’s text. He seemed pretty serious, right? You were hoping he wasn’t. Maybe he needed help examining some artifacts. Or maybe, he wanted to talk about something that isn’t as important as you think. Maybe you’re overthinking.

Stop giving yourself false hope, y/n.

Standing up from your bed suddenly felt like a complex task. You inevitably turned off your phone and let out a piteous sigh. Once you finally stood up after minutes of contemplating, you finally made it to the door of his room. It was quiet. You couldn’t see what was going on since the door was shut. You couldn't hear his voice and there wasn't any music currently playing. This must be serious.

With sweaty palms that you quickly wipe away using your shirt, it takes everything in you just to open the door. There’s no going back now. There he was. He was slouched on his bed. He looked fatigued, maybe? What the hell happened to the Tsukishima 30 minutes ago?

I mean, you both were just arguing back and forth 30 minutes ago. You made up afterward and then you just fled his room. Now he wants to talk? What about exactly? Whatever it is, you sincerely hope it doesn’t cause another argument.

“Hey,” Your voice is remarkably unstable, faltering due to how nervous you are. Tsukishima looks up at you and contorts his face in possible confusion for a brief moment, then relaxes it again. “You said we needed to talk, what about?”

“Stop.”

Stop?

“Stop acting clueless. It’s annoying.” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, slouching once again as his head hangs low, he doesn’t bother making eye contact with you, he keeps his face set to the ground.

“Kei, what are you talking about-”

“Cut the bullshit, y/n. Stop trying to avoid shit. You know exactly why I called you over here to talk,” Tsukishima snaps, Your eyes start to water, and Tsukishima groans and covers his eyes with his hands. “I need a drink.” His lanky body suddenly stands up from the bed. He drags himself from out the room and you resolutely turn and look at him in pure confusion.

“Tsukishima, I don’t think it’s smart for you to be drinking at this time.”

“What are you, my mother? You sure do think many things, y/n.” He laughs out, still walking to the kitchen, and opens the fridge. “Why the hell do you care anyway? I’m an adult.”

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?” you scoff, leaning on one of the slabs in the kitchen. “We were literally okay like 30 minutes ago- not even! Now, you text me, even though i’m literally a room away from you, telling me we need to talk about who knows what, and now you don't even want to talk anymore. It’s unfair, tsukishima-”

“You know what’s unfair, Y/N?” He lets out an awfully unpleasant laugh, slamming the fridge door really hard which makes you flinch. “You can’t-- God--” He’s staring pensively at you, you’re staring back and glaring, eagerly waiting for him to say something. He scoffs, then takes a seat in the kitchen dining. “You’re a hypocrite.”

“How about you stop insulting me and tell me what I did that got you so fucking worked up!” You raise your hands up in defeat with glassy eyes and Tsukishima still doesn’t make any direct eye contact with you. “Can we please just talk? Like adults?”

He sighs and finally looks up at you and nods. You heave a profound sigh of relief when you see that he’s finally willing to talk things out.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry.” You offer him a whimsical smile, walking towards him to hug him, he’s hugging back with a loose grip, but you pay no mind to it.

“Of course, Kei.” You let go of him, still standing close to him. You sit on the chair beside him, and you both are now facing each other. “So, what’s up?”

Tsukishima looks at you for a moment and opens his mouth, then closes it. He plays with his drink, circling the cup, so the ice in it makes a noise. You move close to him as you soothe him, massaging his back softly, then moving your hand up to softly caress his hair, just the way he likes it.

“You can tell me anything, Kei. Take your time if you need to.” He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck when you continue to thread your hands in his hair and can't help the way your heart flutters at how cute he reacts to your touch.

“You smell so fucking good.” he breaths, you chuckle in return and he clings to you tighter.

“Kei.”

“Hmm?”

Before you can even continue speaking, your gasp cuts you off when tsukishima licks a stripe on your neck. Without thinking, you tilt your head, giving him more access to your neck in which he smirks at. As he continued to lick and suck on your flesh, mindlessly, you began threading your fingers on his hair once again which motivates tsukishima to continue.

“K-kei..” You call, but he doesn’t give you an answer. The hand he has placed on your thigh finds its way to your hips, then your shirt, hoisting it up quickly. You assist him to lift up your shirt and once it’s off you immediately took your lips with his, your heart pounding and knees getting weaker as the gentle kiss deepens. The buzz on your phone goes off again, but you pay no attention to it. The only thing you could focus on right now was how soft tsukishima’s lips felt against yours. Softer than you naturally imagined. He was addictively invading your senses and honestly, you could get used to this.

It altogether felt like you were dreaming. Clearly, you weren’t considering the fact that you and he were just arguing not so long ago. The kiss was messy, but there was raw emotion in the way tsukishima’s deft hands interlaced with yours. You break the kiss and the both of you gasp for air as tsukishima carries you bridal style down his room and places you on the bed.

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He too could get used to feeling your tender lips with his. As you were laying down, tsukishima gets on top of you and places his hands on the sides of your head as support.

“Please, look how fucked out you look from just some kisses.” Tsukishima teases and you instantly use both of your hands to cover the blush that was forming on your cheeks.

“F-fuck you,”

“You’re cute. Take off your clothes.”

You happily oblige with his orders, flinging them somewhere in his room and you produce a confused look when you notice that his clothes are still on.

“Wanna eat you out.”

Your eyes widen in shock, which purely makes him chuckle as he moves closer to you, face to face. You could feel his warm breath, and it was driving you crazy. You draped both of your arms around his shoulders and met his lips halfway.

Your stomach flutters once again, heart skipping a beat. Everything felt surreal. From the heated make-out session, you were having with tsukishima, to the smell of him which was gradually, but undoubtedly causing you to lose all trains of thought.

You parted your lips and felt him washing over you like a tidal wave, warmth being spread from head to toes. Your entire body tingled with pleasure and the feeling of tsukishima slowly leaning his frame on yours as he wrapped his arms around you seemed to be amplified. Tsukishima pulls away to smirk at you and you roll your eyes as you haul him back in, claiming his lips once again. You find yourself slipping your fingers under his shirt, feeling his smooth radiant skin.

He breaks the kiss once again, kissing down to your collarbone, all the way down to your thighs. You’re too out of it to notice that both of his hands were already wrapped around your thighs to keep your hips in place as he stared face to face with your cunt.

“So pretty,” He beams, you conceal your mouth with your hand to prevent a moan from slipping out your lips and tsukishima smilingly shakes his head in disapproval.

“Ah, Ah, Ah” He tuts, “I wanna hear you, okay? Can you do that for me pretty?”

You mindlessly nod, hoping the blond-haired boy would grant you some mercy due to how fucked out you were, but being his usual sadistic self, he wants to hear you struggle to beg for him.

“Please,”

“Please what?” He brings his thumb and strokes it on your clit, then abruptly stops to take some of your wetness and spreads it around your cunt.

“Mmm, please eat me out-- please!”

“Of course, all you had to do was ask, dummy.” He laughs out, you’re too fucked out to even care about the jokes he makes at this moment.

Tsukishima immediately dives down and latches his tongue on your clit harshly, your legs tensing up immediately at the contact.

“Ha!--”

Your hips begin to squirm and tsukishima has to hold them in place and hastily pushes two fingers inside curling up, almost instantly finding your g-spot. You immediately grip his hair, tugging on it which gets a groan out of the man below you.

“Shh. listen,” Tsukihsima’s thrusting slows down as he pulls his mouth away. Instead, his thrust are hard and slow and the lewd noises coming from your cunt make you blush even harder than before. “Do you hear the naughty noises your cunt’s making?”

You want to hide away, somewhere, anywhere. You can’t help the squelching noises your cunt’s making, maybe if he stopped thrusting harder it would go away, but you don’t want him to. He observes the way you try to hide away in the sheets and his thrust instantly quickens, striking a spot you never knew you had.

“Oh-- Oh my God.! ‘M gonna!”

“Yeah? You gonna cum? Cmon, do it. I know you can, baby. Give it to me.” You nod your head furiously. Tsukishima quickly latches his lips onto your clit again, sucking harshly and you can’t help the way your legs close in on his head.

“C-Cumming!” With one final strangled scream, Your walls convulse around his fingers, tsukishima’s thrusting slows down to prevent overstimming.

Slowly, Tsukishima pulls his fingers out, examaning his two fingers and spreading them before tasting them.

“You fucking perv!” You laugh out, still trying to catch your breath.

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

“Kei?”

“Yeah?” He left the room and came back with a damp towel and began to clean you up. It was a comfortable silence, he looked concentrated and you couldn’t help but admire the man above you.

“If it’s about me finishing y/n, then I’m fine. Trust me.”

“No, I just realised.. We never talked about-- y’know.”

He looks at you and smiles, then places the damp towel away and once he comes back he plops down on you.

“You’re gonna squish me, you big giant!” You laugh. Tsukishima, on the other hand, rests his head on your stomach and hugs you by the waist.

“I’m tired. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Hey, don’t try to change the subject--”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, kay?”

You were about to argue back until you slightly lifted your head to see tsukishima already asleep on your stomach. His glasses were already placed somewhere. You smile to yourself before sighing and caressing his hair. He is such a softie.

“Yeah, sure.”

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[drarrily-we-row-along]

hello, excuse me if this makes you uncomfortable but my birthday is September 14 and I have very few friends and therefore I did not receive congratulations or gifts, could I please ask for something with drarry and scorbus? something like Harry and his children living in the manor anda Lucius and Narcissa still alive, I know it's out of your comfort zone and if you can't or don't want to then sorry for the inconvenience🥺😖

Scorbus

Hello friends, First thing- Happy birthday to the nonnie who requested this. Second thing- Yes! For your birthday and for the other lovelies who have requested Scorbus, I will write one (1) Scorbus fic. I will do my best but I've got to be honest- I don't have any real feelings about Scorbus (I don't read much of it and didn't enjoy The Cursed Child). So we'll have to see how it turns out.

cw: talks about hospice care and future death (not of a main character- we're talking about Lucius, no death will take place in the fic) without further ado, here's the best take I can give you. <3

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

"But Daaad," Albus whined, "I don't want to go!"

"I know, bud," Harry replied, instantly regretting calling his 15-year-old 'bud', as he helped Lily find her bag.

James came in and flopped on Albus' bed, "It's just because he-"

"Shut up!" Albus shrieked, pouncing on him and smothering him with a pillow.

"Boys-" Harry started even as the boys started screaming and wrestling and Lily started to cry about not being able to find something. "Enough!" he shouted, casting a shield charm between the boys. "All of you," he said, "Let's just take a breath."

"But-" multiple voices rang out.

"No buts," he interrupted. "Deep breaths. Right now."

(Read more below the cut)

Everyone glared at him but at least they stopped talking.

"Okay," he said, "James, please stop intentionally trying to bother your brother."

Albus stuck his tongue out at him.

"Al, please finish packing. Lily, your straightener is in the bathroom under the sink."

They let out a collective groan.

"Look guys," he said. "I know. I know it's hard when I have to go to work. I know being in a house where someone is about to die is difficult. But Draco is a good friend and if I can help Lucius pass on, I need to do it. Okay?"

All of his children nodded sullenly.

"Besides," he added, "The manor is huge. You won't even have to see Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. And," he said, smiling at Albus, "Scorpius will be there. I'm sure he'll be glad to have a friend, yeah?"

Albus rolled his eyes and just muttered, "Can you get out so I can pack, please?"

With a sigh, Harry nodded and left, thinking for the thousandth time that single parenting was really fucking hard.

---------

He hadn't expected this to be his life. Harry had expected that he'd join the aurors or that he'd go on to be a quidditch player.

Working as a hospice care healer had never been in the plans. But there was no denying that he was good at it; he wasn't grossed out by all of the ways that bodies failed as a person began the process of dying. He didn't mind the late nights and early mornings. He actually usually enjoyed listening to stories from his patient as they reflected on their lives. And death didn't bother him. He'd spent nearly twenty years in this profession, he was good at his job, and he liked it.

Still, as he stood looking at the Manor, nerves that he hadn't felt in years settled in. He couldn't be sure if it was because the Manor still gave him the creeps all these years later, if it was because it was Lucius Malfoy and they'd never had the best of relationships, if it was because he was anxious about how Draco would handle his father's death, or something else entirely.

"Let's go," Albus snapped, impatient and anxious.

He nodded once and stepped up onto the top step and rang the door bell.

Draco opened the door, looking exhausted.

"Hey," Harry said softly, aching to hold him, to take him into his arms and hide him away from the rest of the world and all that was happening to him.

But they didn't do that. Not in public, not where anyone could see them including their families. Maybe especially their families. "Hi," Draco replied and Harry knew he was wishing for the same thing. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," he said because there hadn't really ever been a choice. He loved Draco and he would do anything that would help make this easier. "Let me just get these guys settled in and I'll check in with your dad, okay?"

He nodded, "I have you guys set up in the West wing," he said as he started inside, "I know this is probably not the way you were hoping to spend your summer hols-" Draco started.

"It's okay," Lily said, falling into step beside Draco. "I'm sorry about your dad," she added.

"Thank you," he replied.

And Harry smiled, if nothing else, he and Ginny still agreed it was important to raise their kids to practice kindness.

-----------

It was a long day. The first day at a new job almost always was, lots of intake paperwork, lots of working to make sure they had all their doses right in order to keep their patient comfortable, and inevitably lots of input from the patient's family.

By the time Harry had gotten everything set up and diagnostic spells and alerts in place, Lucius was sleeping comfortably in the hospice bed, Narcissa on the cot beside him.

Only Draco remained awake, watching Harry work from the sofa in the corner.

When he finished he nodded to the door and Draco followed him out. "You okay?" he asked softly once the door closed.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" he whispered.

"Yeah, love," he replied, giving Draco's hand a quick squeeze. "Of course."

Draco nodded once and led the way through the halls to a different wing entirely. He opened the last door on the left and let Harry in first.

Harry looked around curiously. He'd obviously seen Draco's room in his own home but not the room he occupied when he stayed at the Manor.

"It's actually not the room I stayed in as a child," Draco informed him as he made his way to the drawers to pull out two pairs of pajamas. "It gave me nightmares," he said, "after everything in this awful house."

He hummed, "It must be hard," he said gently, slipping into the comfortable clothes Draco had tossed him. "A lot of trauma wrapped up in an already challenging event." He folded down the covers and climbed in, making a space for Draco so he could curl up in front of him.

"Harry?" he asked once he'd settled back against him and pulled Harry's arm snug around his waist.

He hummed, pressing a kiss to the smooth, soft skin of Draco's neck.

"Do you think you might want to tell our families about us?"

Harry froze, "Do you think you might want to tell our families?" he asked.

"I asked first."

"Personally," Harry said, "Yes. I would like that. I don't like keeping things from my kids and you're," he swallowed. It was silly to be nervous, he'd said this before, but he couldn't help the surge of adrenaline. "I love you, Draco. You're important to me. But the real question is do you want to tell them? You dad-"

"My father is a bigoted arse," he snapped. "And yes he is dying but Harry you make me so happy and I just," he sighed. "I don't want to keep it a secret anymore. If he hates it, he hates it but I don't want him to go from this life thinking that he got to control mine."

Harry didn't quite know what to say.

"I'm awful. I know. I-"

"Draco," he said, squeezing him a little tighter, "I wasn't judging you. I don't think you're awful. Grief and death affect us all differently. If that's what you want, let's do it."

"Let's tell our kids first."

--------

Harry called a family meeting the next day after he'd check on Lucius and they'd done a bit of exercise and gone for a walk.

In retrospect, this might not have been the best thing to call it. Family meeting had never had the best associations and the last one they'd had was to tell the kids that he and Ginny were getting a divorce.

His kids were cagey, Scorpius was withdrawn, and Draco was honestly a bit erratic.

"Okay," he said, smiling at the room, only Lily smiled back. "So we," he said pointing back and forth between him and Draco, "have some news."

"Oh Salazar, please no," Albus whispered.

Harry gave him the look the one every parent had perfected by the time their child was three. "It's good news," Harry said.

"We're together," Draco blurted.

James barely looked up from his book as he said, "Called it."

Lily said "Like together-together?"

And Albus promptly burst into tears, fleeing the room.

"Albus!" Scorpius shouted, jumping up and chasing after him.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. "Maybe he thought that Ginny and I would get back together someday?"

James rolled his eyes, "That's not it. He and Scorpius are like," he waved a careless hand, "a thing."

Draco's eyes widened.

"Oh," Harry said. "And no one could have said something about this before?"

James shrugged, turning the page, "I tried to say something yesterday and you told me to shut up."

"I did not use those words," Harry said.

"Yeah, but that's what you meant."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, he was careful about his words, never wanting his kids to feel like they were unloved and unheard.

"It's fine, dad," James said, waving him off, "You should talk to Albus."

He was right, they really did need to talk to Albus and Scorpius.

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

When they found them, Al and Scorpius were sitting together on one of the swings and Al was still crying.

"Alright," Harry said, transfiguring a couple of sticks into chairs. "Let's talk about this."

"You're the worst," Albus shouted at him. "It's like you're intentionally trying to ruin my life without even knowing you're doing it."

It took everything in Harry not to point out the fallacy in that logic. Draco, too, if the sharp intake of breath was anything to go by. "Could you tell me more about why you feel that way?" Harry asked, gently squeezing Draco's thigh.

"Because he thinks you're going to ask us to break up," Scorpius said, biting his bottom lip.

"And even if you don't, everyone's going to think it's weird," Albus said, a hiccoughing sob escaping.

"Think what's weird?" Draco asked.

"If you guys are dating and we're dating," Scorpius said.

Harry nodded, "I think I understand," he said. "But honestly, guys, we're not going to ask you to stop dating and it doesn't really matter what other people think."

"Easy for you to say," Albus sniffled, "You're Harry Potter. Everyone already loves you."

"I agree with you dad," Draco said, "other people's opinions are irrelevant. It's not as though you were raised together or anything like that."

"Well everyone already hates you anyway," Albus snapped, "So why would it matter?"

"Albus," Harry warned, "Apologize."

"No, it's alright," Draco said. "I used to be a lot like you, you know," he said. "I used to really care about what other people thought and how they felt."

"What changed?" Scorpius asked curiously.

"Your mum, actually," he said, with a little smile. "She helped me to look at myself and see who I really was, not the person that people believe me to be. She helped me to recognize that other people didn't define me, I did." He shrugged, "At the end of the day, if I chose to listen to them I was still the one defining myself that way."

"That," Albus started, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, "Makes sense."

"Good," Draco said, nodding once.

Harry squeezed his hand, "Right, well, congratulations, you two. Please be sure if you decide to make things physical you talk to one of us about protection spe-"

"Dad!" Albus shrieked, covering his ears. "Shut up! Shut up! Merlin save me."

Draco laughed, attempting to stifle it with a cough and failing in Harry's opinion.

"I'm just saying," Harry said, holding up his hands in defeat. "We should probably have this conversation at some point."

Albus shook his head and Scorpius had turned as red as a beet.

"Well. I'm off, then. Back to work," Harry replied.

Draco took his hand, "I'll walk you," he offered and they headed back to the house.

"Well," Harry said, once they were a good distance away. "That was unexpected."

"Was it, though?" Draco asked. "The way Scorp talks about Albus," he trailed off. "Well, let's just say he reminded me a little too much of me at that age."

"Had a crush on me that long have you?"

He laughed, "Longer. My father was just too bigoted to take my ramblings for what they really were."

Harry leaned over and pecked his cheek, "Well, I after that, I think that telling your parents will be a piece of cake."

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

See the rest of my drabbles here

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

“Did we fuck last night?” Smut starter w/ our baby boy Santiago ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love your work :)

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt and the kind words! I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like. 

Pairing: Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + (For language, oral (F! Receiving), vaginal sex, alcohol use NSFW

My Masterlist 

Last Night at the Party 

Unknown number: Good Morning. 

You: ...Morning...who is this? 

Unknown number: Santiago Garcia, ya know Frankie's friend. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk

Santiago Garcia: Quick question...did we fuck last night? 

You groan and fall back into the bed, your hand thrown over your eyes as the sunlight fights to sneak through the crack in the curtains. Your head pounds from the amount of alcohol you consumed the night before. Frankie and his fiancé, not wanting to be apart even one night, had a joint bachelor/bachelorette party. 

You worked in the front office at the tour office. Frankie flew for and had quickly become fast friends. He was funny, sweet, and a wonderful friend. But with Frankie came Santiago Garcia, the man who stalked your dreams. He was handsome as fuck, with salt and pepper curls and deep brown eyes. His arms always straining against the fabric of his t-shirts. The man had an ass that was simply divine. Many a night, you had dreamt of kneading it in your hands as he slammed into you. 

But he never noticed you. Not at least in the way you wanted to be seen. You tried on the days you knew he would be coming by. Wearing tighter clothes or shorter dresses and attempting your best at flirting. The only thing gained by any of this was Frankie's amusement as he slung an arm around your shoulder and told you there were better men than Pope. 

That's another thing, the nickname; Pope. You once asked Frankie about it jokingly. Frankie told you it was because Santi in the army brought people closer to God, and all the women he fucked. You had just about given up all hope, till last night. 

********

The party was in full swing when you arrived—wearing a dark blue halter dress that stopped just above your knees, converse, and a black leather jacket. Frankie and his fiancee greeted you with a hug and gave you the rundown of the land. It was casual. They had rented out a private space in the local brewery. You could order anything on the menu and open bar. Thank fuck for that as you watched Santiago flirt with some redhead at the bar. 

You walk down to the opposite end, sit down, motion for the bartender, and ask for an IPA. You try everything in your power to keep from looking over at him, but your eyes stray without your knowledge. Gazing around at the way the denim hugs him in all the right places, the top buttons on his shirt opened up to see the sun-kissed skin peeking through. It's almost magnetic the way his eyes drift up to meet yours across the sea of strangers. You see him smile and turn back to his partner before he grabs his beer and heads over to you. 

"Is this seat taken?" his deep baritone snaps you out of your head, and you look at him, nodding. "You're the girl who works in Frankie's office, right? The secretary?" 

"Yep, that's me, the secretary," you take a deep drink from your beer and try to keep the passive aggression out of your tone, turning snarky instead. "And you're that guy who comes and talks to Frankie and interrupts my office with idle chit chat." 

He looks a little taken aback, but he brushes it off, grinning, "I never knew you had this much fire in you. What's your name?" 

You roll your eyes, "I have told you my name on four separate occasions, and now you want to know it again? Why don't you guess?" 

"Okay," he smiles, taking a drink, "how about ginger?" 

"I think your thinking about your friend on the other side of the bar," you laugh and gesture for another drink. 

"Fuck," he mumbles under his breath, going through a plethora of names, none of which is your own. You've finished two beers before he actually guessed your first name correct—each name sinking the knife deeper and deeper into your chest. 

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner," you sarcastically chime, and he smiles, a real genuine broad smile. Fuck him and his perfect smile. "With how many names you had to guess, I'm actually delighted you never noticed me. I'd probably have an STD." He spits out the drink in his mouth, coughing and patting his chest with his fist. 

He laughs, looking at you wide-eyed, "I do not have any fucking diseases. I get tested regularly." 

"When was the last time?" you can tell he's thinking back. 

"Tuesday," he says triumphantly, "and I haven't fucked anyone since then so." He takes another sip of his drink, grinning at you over the glass. 

"So if I wanted to fuck you, it would have to be tonight?" You casually sip your drink, staring at him, bold from the alcohol flowing through your system. 

He sputters and coughs again, choking on his drink. "Are you trying to kill me?" he puts a hand to his forehead and looks at you. "Are you serious?" 

"I want you to fuck me Santiago," you take his hand down the rest of your drink and pull him towards the back of the brewery. Your eyes connect with Frankie, and you give him a wink pulling a shit-eating grinning Santi behind you. He walks past you and pulls you into the cold night air of the alley. 

It was dark and deserted; the country music blaring from inside echoed off the exterior's red brick wall. For an alley, it was relatively clean. The sidewalk to the public wasn't visible from around the dumpsters. Not the most romantic spot, but when Santiago latched his lips onto the soft skin below your ear. The spicy scent of his cologne overwhelming your senses. 

"Does that feel good?" he whispers huskily in your ear, nipping the lobe lightly. The moan you release has him smiling against your skin, "that's a yes," he chuckles. 

"Stop teasing me," you whine as he gropes your breast through the thin fabric of your dress. He pulls away from your neck and tilts your chin up to look at him. 

"Do you want this?" he whispers, a ghost of his lips on your lips. 

You don't answer, only lunging forward and recapturing his lips in a moan. He uses the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth. You fight in a battle for dominance that he eventually wins. His hands moving beneath the shell of your leather jacket and running over the smooth skin of your exposed back. 

He takes his time moving down to your cheek, your neck, and then sucking hard into the skin of your collarbone. You are sure to have bruises tomorrow, but at this point, you don't fucking care. His hands move further down and cup your ass before moving under your dress, sliding your panties down slowly, he unlatches from your sensitive skin. Dropping to his knees and groaning, pulling down your panties over your converse before pocketing them. 

He throws your dress over his head and dives into your folds, his tongue working against your throbbing clit. You grab the side of the dumpster as you feel the scuffle from his face, scratch against your thighs, as he rocks his tongue back and forth over you. "Fuck," you moan as you feel him slip one thick finger slide into your pussy. Your head drops back, hitting the brick wall. He chuckles, and the vibrations draw another deep moan from inside as you pant. 

The sound of the backdoor of the brewery opening snaps your head to the side. Your bottom half is covered from the dumpster, and you frantically hit Santi on the head. Still, he doesn't stop, instead adding a second finger, stretching you deliciously. Frankie's signature cap pops out into the alley, and he turns to look at you. You try your best to smile and bite down hard on your tongue, almost drawing blood as he sucks your clit into his mouth. 

"Hey! We're about to do speeches, and Santi's my best man. Have you seen him?" 

"N-n-no," you stutter, and Santi reaches a hand on your ass to push you even further into his mouth. "We came out here to talk, but he left like five minutes ago? Maybe he went out f-f-front." 

Frankie looks at you, questioningly, "Are you okay? You're acting kind of strange." 

You yelp, throwing a hand down on top of the dumpster with a laugh, "I am just fantastic, you know, if I see Santiago, I will be sure to tell him he's needed." 

"Okay, thanks," he throws out a wave going back inside with a click of the door. 

"Such a good girl," Santi chuckles from beneath your dress, and you feel yourself cum all over his tongue gushing around him as he adds a third finger pulsing inside you. 

You bite down hard on your lip, and he keeps licking and fucking you with his mouth. His nickname making more and more sense as you literally feel closer to God. You dig your fingers into his curls and pull his mouth away. Dragging him up to kiss you again, you taste yourself on his tongue, and it makes you even wetter. 

He steps back and unbuttons his jeans pulling out his cock. He's thick and rigged, the tip spewing pre-cum. He grabs his wallet and pulls out a condom making you giggle. "Hey, every good soldier comes prepared," he laughs, pulling it on. 

He pushes you back further into the brick, bringing your legs up around his waist and bunching your dress up. He lines himself up, and you look into his eyes, stifling a scream as he slams into you. You've never felt so full in your entire life, clenching around him as he starts to slowly rock into you. 

You converse crossed against his back as he kisses you again slowly and passionately. Not the quick fuck you thought he would give you. For the location and the time, it was strangely intimate. "Are you okay?" you pants against your neck. 

"Yes," you gasp as he hits inside you just right, "just, please don't stop." He pulls away from your neck and kisses you again, licking into your mouth. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna treat you right." He picks up the place and reaches down between you to your sensitive clit rubbing it in time with his thrusts. 

"Oh fuck, right there, Pope," you moan, and he picks up the pace. The brick digging into your back as he furiously fucks into you. Your orgasm slams into you without warning, and you tug on his curls, throwing your head back as you stile a scream. 

"Yes, cum for me," he praises you through a second orgasm. Three more thrusts and he's cumming, biting down on your exposed shoulder as he groans. You both come down from your high, and he pulls away, smiling at you. You laugh at his mused hair, lipstick smeared across his face, he looks freshly fucked, and you feel a sense of pride knowing you did that to him. 

The awkward, you've just fucked a mutual acquaintance in an alley moment comes faster than you anticipate. He pulls out and ties off the condom throwing it in the dumpster and pulling up his jeans, relatching them. You straighten your appearance the best you can. Running your fingers through your mused hair. You search the alley floor for your panties hoping to throw them away or better burn them when you hear a whistle. 

Santi is standing before the back door holding your panties on the crook of his finger and smiling. "I have to go back and give my speech, but after… I would really love to buy you a drink. Maybe we can go back to my place for another couple of rounds?" 

You bite your lip, nodding, and he smiles, pocketing your panties and going inside. The door latches, and you sigh, closing your eyes and trying not to freak out. The door slams open; you jump as Santi runs back out and closes the distance kissing you again. The kind of kiss you feel down to the tips of your toes. He places his forehead against yours. "I really want to see you again, don't run away, okay?" he whispers before kissing you again and running back inside. 

**********************

You look at the text message again. The perfect night of passion with Santiago, and he doesn't even remember if you...The phone chimes again. 

Santiago Garcia: I'm a moron. I don't know why I said that. I know that we did. It was one of the most incredible moments of my life. 

You: Then what the fuck, Santiago?

Santiago Garcia: I want to take you to breakfast, on a date. It's the least you could do after bailing on me last night. 

You: Well, I'm not sure I want to. 

Santiago Garcia: Well, that makes this awkward. 

You: What? 

Knock Knock 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @a-seeker-of-imagination @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @letoartreiides 

Also tagging @josepedropascal Oscar Train toot toot 

[frattsparty]

My Heart Needed You Part 11

AN: this chapter starts out sweet but was very hard to write, obviously I had in mind her story but writing it was sad and I’ve basically gone back and forth if I should change it - TW below. @lexondeck had the amazing idea to bring our friends of Charming back. I hope you all like this chapter, but please read with caution and I hope this doesn’t offend or hurt anyone.

Warnings: consensual sex, angst, talk of abuse and sexual assault, miscarriage. Under 18 please do not read.

Tag List: @lexondeck @redpoodlern @nessamc @withmyteeth @chibsytelford @thegirlwhowritesfics

With everything that has happened the last few weeks, the drug run gone wrong, Christobal being taken, the hunt for who took him, and having to see the gruesome side of what Nestor does for Migue, your house, deciding to live with Nes until it’s done. Needing a break was an understatement.

Nestor had been so open and honest with you about how he ended up being who he was for Miguel, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you haven’t been as equally as honest with him.

You just weren’t sure how to tell him, or if you should tell him everything. You were grateful to have a few days away and miles between the two of you so you could get your thoughts in order. Wendy had called a few weeks ago saying she and Nero were having a small party for Abel’s birthday. Inviting you, Chibs, Hap, and Tig and Venus - but with rules of no club talk and no kuttes.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Nestor snakes his arms around your waist as you zip up your small weekend bag.

You grab his hands, lacing your fingers with his and he places a kiss to your neck. “It’s just a few hours, I’ll be there for 2 days and I’ll come right back.” He hummed in response now leaving a trail of kisses over your neck.

“How long until you leave?” He says as he pulls his hands from yours and moves them under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“Mmm, probably an hour,” Moving to face him you wrap your arms around his neck and his move to your hips, as the two of you start aimlessly swaying,“Do you have something we need to do before I leave?” Your fingers are tracing lightly on the back and side of his neck.

“I can think of a few things,” he whispers in your ear as his hands make their way to your thighs lifting you into his arms causing you to squeal at the quick movements.

Your lips meet in a desperate kiss, your hands holding him to you. He lays you down, moving quickly to pull your shorts and underwear down while you pull off your shirt and bra, you move to your knees grabbing his belt and pulling him to you. As quickly as you can you are undoing his belt and pants, pushing them down as he pulls his shirt over his head.

He pushes you back and moves over you, lips meeting in a slower, greedy kiss. Your hands are roaming his back, lightly scratching with your nails, as one of his makes its way between your legs, immediately finding your clit. You gasp and let your head fall back.

He kisses from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck and landing on your chest where he bites and sucks leaving marks only the two of you will see, all while he works you with his skilled fingers. You are clinging tightly to his shoulders, “don’t stop, please Nes.”

His hand moves fast as he leaves open mouth kisses to your neck, “cum for me, baby.” With that you are thrown over the edge. Gasping and moaning his name, and your nails dig into his skin.

Before your breathing even settles he moves his body between your legs and pushes himself into you. His moan in your ear has you squeezing him tightly. “You are perfect, Hails.” He moans as he slowly thrust in and out.

While you love slow and gentle Nestor, right now you need more. “Harder Nes,” you gasp out as your hands move to his ass pulling him into you further. He gladly obliges and with one arm wrapped above your head holding you in place, his other hand on your cheek, and his face in your neck he thrusts into you hard and at a punishing pace. In no time you are chanting his name, gasps and grunts filling the room.

His hand that was on your cheek finds its way to your clit, roughly rubbing and circling, and before you can get any words out you clench around him tightly and cum again.

He pulls out of you and between breaths says, “roll over, Hails.” He’s quickly moving to help you and position you how he wants you. So you’re on your  knees, chest and face pushed into a pillow and he quickly enters you again. He grabs your hands, lacing your fingers and he leans fully over you, his body completely covering you, and moves faster chasing his own release causing you to head towards another. You are so sensitive, you need him to cum so you start pushing yourself back to meet his hips. “Cum for me, Nes, I need you to cum for me, please fill me up,” you beg him as you are gasping and moaning, squeezing his hands tightly. After a few more rough thrusts you are both over the edge and Nestor is filling you up.

“Fuck,” he said as he pulls out and rolls over next to you. “Now you should be feeling me everytime you walk while you’re gone.” He flashes a big, cocky grin as you roll your eyes still trying to catch your breath.

“I’m getting a shower, you are not welcome because I need to be fast.” Pecking his lips, “I’m going to be late and you and those hands will make me even later.”

He’s chuckling as you pull yourself from his arms and slowly walk on wobbly legs to the dresser pulling out fresh underwear. As you walk into the bathroom you look over your shoulder and see Nestor in all his glory watching you with a look of love on his face with his hands resting behind his head.

You quickly wash your hair and while you're rinsing the conditioner you are hit with cold air. You open your eyes and see Nestor sneaking in with a guilty but not sorry smile you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of him. He quickly moved to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hands resting on your butt.

“I’m going to miss you,” he said softly as you were twirling the ends of his hair with your fingers.

“I’ll miss you too, but I’ll be back first thing Monday.” You assured him, reaching up and leaving a soft kiss to his lips.

He moves his hands up holding the sides of your neck deepening the kiss, and you both stand there under the shower spray holding each other.

The water starts to get cold and you know it’s time to get on the road so you aren’t late. “I have to go, Nes.” Squeezing you tighter he nodded leaving a sweet kiss to your lips. “You get dressed and I’ll get your bags,” he gave you another squeeze.

He gets out of the shower first wrapping a towel low on his waist, and then holds his hands out to help you and quickly wraps you in a towel. Kissing your cheek he heads to the bedroom. Technically this one was his but in the last week you’ve moved fully into it, but you’ll be going to stay at his house until yours is ready. You got the house on the beach,and immediately hired a contractor to make all the updates and changes you want. It should be ready in no time and you couldn’t wait.

You braid your hair in two braids, mirroring Nestor’s daily look, and get dressed. As you headed down the stairs you stopped by to let Miguel know you were leaving and you made sure to give Emily a hug. Letting them both know you could come back early if they needed you.

When you get to the door Nestor is there with a large cold coffee and he had your bags in your car.

“Drive careful, Hails. And let me know when you get there okay?” He says as he gives you a tight hug, you nod wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his chest.

He grabs your hand and walks you to your car, opening your door for you. But before you get in you turn and take a hold of his face to give him one more kiss. “I love you!”

He smiles, one that met his eyes and always melted your heart. “I love you too. Have fun with your boys!”

***

The drive to Norco has taken a few hours, but it has been smooth and you got there before anyone from Charming. When you pull in you see Wendy and Nero on the porch and the boys swinging in the yard.

As you open your car door you hear the sweetest sound and tears come to your eyes as both boys scream for their aunt Hailey.

They rush to you and you to them, grabbing them both up in a big hug. “I’ve missed you boys so much!” These hugs were exactly what you needed.

You put the boys back down and made your way to Wendy and Nero, giving each a long hug.

“How was your drive?” Nero asked as he let you go.

“Great, I left early so traffic wasn't too bad, a little slow in San Diego but that’s all.”

He grabs your bags from the car and puts them inside for you, and heads back to the boys, while you and Wendy go to the kitchen. “I’m so glad you could come, I’ve missed you.” Wendy says as she gets you a drink.

“Me too, I’ve missed you and those boys, even Nero.” You chuckle.

“How are the boys doing?” You want to make sure they are doing well here. “Anything you need?”

“The first couple of weeks were rough, lots of tears and I guess you could call it anger. But I have Abel in therapy and that has really helped him a lot, Thomas transitioned with no issues.” She looks at you giving a small smile, “we’re doing really well. I couldn’t have done it without you taking care of literally everything.”

You nod. “It was all worth it knowing they are okay and thriving. This is what Jax wanted, for them to have a normal life without all that the club brings.”

Before the conversation went further another vehicle pulled up, and you could hear the boys screaming. You and Wendy gave each other big smiles as you got up and headed out.

“Aye there is our girl!” You heard from Chibs, you practically skipped off the porch and over to him where he immediately engulfed in a hug. “I miss ye darlin.”

“I miss you too!” Next came Happy, the man maybe quiet but when you lived in Charming he quickly became your favorite Son but you wouldn’t tell the others that.

“Hey Hap,” you mumbled as he squeezed you a little too tight.

Then you were lifted off the ground by Tig, “oh I’ve missed you, Hailey girl!”

“I missed you too, Tiggy!” You said as you squeezed his neck.

When he set you down, Venus took over and hugged you tightly. “Oh honey, we’ve truly miss you so much!”

“I’ve miss y’all too!”

Once all of the hugs and greetings were done you texted Nestor letting him know you made it, and then everyone went and sat out in the back deck. The boys played, Nero grilled, and we all chatted. It was such a fun night and Abel had the best time with his aunts and uncles, opening gifts. As the sun went down all the boys were outside running around and the sound of giggles filled the air. You, Wendy and Venus were inside cleaning up the kitchen.

“So, Hailey, how has it been being closer to home?” Venus asks as she starts drying dishes

“Yeah, how has it been? Nero told me that there may be a man in your life.” She turned away from the sink looking at you with a smirk.

“How does he know?!” You ask a little more shocked than you intended.

Chuckling Wendy says, “Marcus called him a few weeks ago and may have mentioned it.”

“It’s a long story, but he’s actually my ex-fiancé. We had always been best friends out while lives, our moms were best friends, and then as we got older we just became…more. By the time we were 17 we were all in. He was everything to me, my first and only, I mean he was it for me. We’re trying to rebuild now and it’s going really well.” You smile.

“So what changed, Hailey, why is he an ex-fiancé? Because you clearly still love him with that look on your face.” Venus points out.

“I’ve loved him my whole life, I can’t remember a time where he wasn’t by my side. He was a SEAL, and I was in law school. We bought a fixer upper house between home and San Diego. Almost every week we went to a beach restaurant and walked the beach after, he would reluctantly go dancing with me.” At that you all giggle. “Just before his last deployment he took me to the beach and proposed, obviously I said yes. He left about a month later, and it was just…” you pause, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “It was just really hard and some things happened while he was gone that I couldn’t tell him about, or anyone really. His brother knew and he helped me but I couldn’t face Nes, so I ran when he got home. That’s how I ended up in Charming, actually” you chuckle, “Gemma figured it all out, she’s one of the only people who ever knew. She read me like a damn book.” Taking a deep breath and wiping the tears from your cheeks you continue. “I hadn’t actually seen him in 5 years since his brother's funeral, and honestly, that didn’t go so well. He said some things out of anger and grief that hurt, so I didn’t go back after that.”

The three of you make your way to the dining room table with the tea Wendy made. “So, how did the reunion happen and go from not speaking to this?” Wendy asked.

“When Jax died and you all moved away I had told my parents that I didn’t know if I wanted to stay in Charming. Doing everything I did for Jax leading up to his death was a lot, and it hurt. I still work for the club and some others, but I just couldn’t be there anymore.”

Your hands are fidgeting with the mug in front of you. “My parents had gone to dinner at the Galindos and told them what was going on. Miguel needed an attorney that was fully on staff with him, and his accountant was subpar. Since I’m qualified for both he made an offer that just felt right, I’ve missed home. So when we got there Miguel and Nestor picked me up, and I just broke down, finally letting out the emotions of the last couple of months. For the first few weeks we kind of avoided each other, things were tense.”

Taking a sip of your tea, they both ask, “then what happened?”

You chuckle at their impatience, “honestly we got in a big fight, he wants answers to why I left and I just can’t tell him. So I stood my ground and he said things he shouldn’t have, it was kind of a blowup.”

“Hailey, why can’t you tell him?” Venus was watching your face, and you could tell she knew that what you were keeping wasn’t something small.

You look up at her, and since the first time you met her you felt safe in her presence. Moving your eyes to the table you whisper, “I feel ashamed, embarrassed, like I failed him.”

“Hails, baby, what happened to you?” Venus is looking at you with a mix of love and concern. “You can tell us.”

You shake your head, “I still haven’t even told Nes. After the fight he agreed that he won’t ask me again, and that when I’m ready he’ll be ready. But the weekend after that fight there was a party for business associates, and Nestor and I just, I don’t know, reconnected. We spent that night together and that’s it.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Wendy asks quietly.

“I can’t,” you look at her sadly. “I just know it will hurt him, and I’m afraid of what he will do.”

“What happened, Hailey?” Venus is now looking at you with a more serious look, “baby, did someone hurt you while he was gone?”

You can’t  look in their eyes, you just nod.

“You can talk to us, Hailey. Clearly whatever it was is still hurting you. Don’t carry this alone.” Wendy grabs your hand, squeezing it trying to encourage you.

Not moving your eyes from the table, “Since I was a teenager, I had worked for Miguel’s dad doing financial stuff. Numbers were easy and my dad was his lawyer, so he trusted me. During law school I would go down once a month or so and meet with him in person. I’ve always been a little afraid of him, I know what he is capable of.” You take in a shaky breath.

“I usually always had Nestor with me or even my dad, but when Nestor deployed my dad was working a big case with his law firm so I had to go alone. A lot was going on with the Galindos then so Jose was…on edge. More ruthless than ever.” You peek up at them and they both give you a reassuring look. “Nestor had been gone for about nine months, and honestly I was struggling. We didn’t talk much, I felt so alone. I was planning a wedding, finishing our house projects, nearing the end of law school. I was so lonely and stressed beyond measure, and I think I kind of let my guard down. So I went to Mexico and Miguel and his mom weren’t there, that should have been a red flag for me. But Devante, Jose’s second in command, pushed for me to come so one of Jose’s men came and picked me up, which was normal so I didn’t question it.”

You pause for a few seconds, taking a drink of your now cold tea. “When I went there I just got a terrible gut feeling. I walked into the house and I could hear Jose losing it in his office. Once I got down there his anger was right on me. The cartel wasn’t doing well, another cartel had come up and they were taking ground, and money.”

You are dreading telling this, but it’s been years since you've gotten to let this out and truly the only other person who you told everything too was Niko.

“Jose grabbed me and he just started screaming at me, saying awful things like how stupid I was, that I was ruining him, I’m a whore, endlessly berating me. I could smell the alcohol on him. While he was screaming he started hitting me, he busted my lip, gave me a black eye, bloodied my nose. When he was done I was covered in bruises, and I learned quickly that he wasn’t done. He shoved me into his desk and he pulled my clothes off…he forced himself on me and at that point I had no fight left in me.” Tears were streaming down your face as you look up, and Venus and Wendy both were wiping tears from their eyes.

“Devante cleaned me up, and the next day he brought me to Jose. And again Jose forced himself on me but this time Devante made sure to threaten me telling me to look like I was enjoying it because he was taking photos. That if I told anyone he would prove I was lying with those and use it as blackmail to control me, and that he would kill my family, and Nes. I believed him because I knew what he did for Jose, and truthfully I would have done anything and agreed to anything in that moment for it to be over so I could go home.” You wipe your nose with your hand and take a deep breath. “Once he was done, Devante told me to call someone to come get me and they just left. I called the one other person besides Nestor who I knew would protect me at all costs, his brother. So he came down and it took everything I had to keep him from doing something stupid. I begged him to just take me back to California.”

“So you never told your parents?” Wendy asked.

Shaking your head, “no, I believed his threat and I knew Niko wouldn’t betray my request to not tell anyone. He took me to his place in San Diego and cleaned me up as best he could. I stayed there until the bruises on my face faded and I felt like I could be at my house alone. Since I didn’t tell anyone, every month I still went to Mexico, I made sure to always have Niko with me so I could come and leave immediately. Before Nestor left I stopped birth control because we wanted a baby when he came home so I just decided to stop it.” The tears are pouring from your eyes now, you can hardly see. “I got pregnant.” You whisper barely loud enough for them to hear. “I took a pregnancy test at the office one day because I panicked, not even thinking that I had to go to Mexico that day alone. The test was in my bag and somehow Jose and Devante found it. Then all hell broke loose. Jose just started hitting me until I was on the ground and he kept kicking me, telling me he was making sure there was no evidence, no proof.”

They both gasp and reach for your hands. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Venus’ voice broke as she spoke.

“When he was done I got to my car and I just kept driving until I got to Nikos house. He met me at the door and I passed out. By the time he got me to the hospital I lost the baby. I had to actually have a procedure done to basically help it all along because my body was struggling. This was five days before Nestor came back. I couldn’t face him, I felt so terrible, so dirty.”

“Did Niko know you were leaving?” Venus asked as she rubbed the back of my hand.

“He did, when I told Nestor I was leaving I went right to Nikos house and he helped me move to Charming.”

“Had you not talked to Nestor during any of this?”

“Not much, it was the least we talked during any deployment, so I was already having a really hard time and then with everything else I was a shell of myself. I think Niko could see how hurt I was from not hearing from Nestor, and he was mad at him for shutting me out. That’s why he was so willing to help me leave I think. Before Nes came home I packed my stuff, and when he got to the house I gave him my key and ring and I left.”

“Hailey, how have you carried this? And you still haven’t told your parents? Or Nestor? Did Jax know?” Wendy got out between sniffles.

“Gemma and Niko knew the most, Jax knew pieces, but that’s it. Nestor knows I was hurt he figured that out in our fight, but he wants to know everything I just can’t tell him. I can’t lose him when he knows the truth.” Your tears are back at the thought of not having him.

“But Hailey, he deserves the truth. He clearly loves you, neither of you moved on with another relationship in all those years, and clearly keeping this inside is hurting you. Don’t let what Jose did ruin your future. Because baby, when you let the past dictate the now and the future, you only ever get to live in the past.” Venus told you as she stood up and envelopes you in a motherly hug.`Thank you for trusting us with this.”

“We are always going to be your family, Hailey. We’re here anytime you need us.” Wendy said as she joins the embrace. As you were all pulling yourselves together the boys came barreling in and Wendy sent them straight to the bath, while you got yourself ready for movies on the couch which was a request of both boys.

You all piled in the living room, Abel was on your right side tucked under your arm holding your hand tightly, while Thomas climbed right in your lap. The three of you cuddled up and before too long were all asleep. What you didn’t know was that Nero snapped a picture of the three of you, and sent it to Marcus who happened to be with Miguel and Nestor.

Seeing you cuddling with your boys made Nestor’s pulse quicken, and let him imagine coming home to that view. Miguel gave his friend a knowing look, a smile on both of their faces. “You’ve gotten a second chance brother, take advantage of it.”

“I plan on it, Mikey.” Nestor said confidently.

He couldn’t wait for you to be home tomorrow night and moving back into the house even if it was just until your new house was ready.