#we. do not have the money for Everything so *rolls up sleeves*

[valdrift]

trying to invoke white woman home renovator while i plan how to fix up my parents house

[mountainsandmayhem]

Just One More, Baby

18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.

“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders. 

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.” 

You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. 

He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture. 

You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.

He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start. 

The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture. 

You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis. 

He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.” 

You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.

“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?” 

His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.” 

“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.

“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit. 

Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”

Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.” 

“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 

“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy. 

You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek. 

“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?” 

“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired. 

His thumbs stop their ministrations. 

“Do you need to use your safe word?” 

You shake your head, “No.”

He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.” 

“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.

You shake your head no.

“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?” 

“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip. 

Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”

You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.” 

He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.  

Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak. 

“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.” 

You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.” 

You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”

He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?” 

You gulp before whispering, “Yes.” 

His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs. 

“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times. 

He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub. 

And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.

He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.

He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit. 

Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder. 

“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”

He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.

“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.

He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes. 

“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?” 

You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips. 

“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?” 

“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.” 

Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?” 

You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.

“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed. 

“Yes, please.”

He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers. 

You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.

He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?” 

“No,” you say breathily.

Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again. 

Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you. 

“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.” 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.” 

“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still. 

“I - I can’t.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.” 

“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper. 

“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”

You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.

“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy. 

You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure. 

He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”

With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat. 

Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.

“So…” he kisses your mound.

“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip. 

“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack. 

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.” 

You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together. 

“Aw, baby. Is she sore?” 

You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.” 

“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.” 

“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily. 

Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.” 

You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband. 

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks. 

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you. 

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home. 

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid. 

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately. 

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air. 

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,” 

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,” 

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“ 

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there. 

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much. 

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere. 

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,” 

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,” 

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,” 

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred. 

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more. 

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place. 

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed. 

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking. 

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up. 

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil. 

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,” 

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient. 

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,” 

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,” 

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,” 

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,” 

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart. 

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her. 

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,” 

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins. 

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return. 

“Yes, actually,” 

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,” 

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped. 

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,” 

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm. 

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same. 

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys. 

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,” 

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed. 

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen. 

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t. 

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,” 

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise. 

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,” 

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue. 

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it.  Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..” 

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses. 

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine. 

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here. 

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.” 

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles. 

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

 “Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed. 

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,” 

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,” 

“And look where that got me,” 

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours. 

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?” 

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,” 

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,” 

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,” 

“Stop saying that!” 

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,” 

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?” 

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?” 

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy. 

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft. 

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,” 

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden. 

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused. 

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat. 

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead. 

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake. 

“That was not the only way to do that,” 

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion. 

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!” 

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,” 

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher. 

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,” 

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear. 

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,” 

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know. 

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear. 

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,” 

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate. 

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over. 

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about? 

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard. 

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile. 

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,” 

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place. 

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,” 

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car. 

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener. 

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery. 

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her. 

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

                               You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans. 

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,” 

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,” 

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,” 

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?” 

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,” 

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent. 

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start. 

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized. 

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her. 

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both. 

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin. 

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day. 

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind. 

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator. 

Calla Lillies - Beauty. 

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly. 

“You back with me, babe?” 

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely. 

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,” 

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,” 

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation. 

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile. 

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you. 

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips. 

“She’s never reliable,” 

“She is literally compulsively on time,” 

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,” 

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother. 

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again. 

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,” 

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?” 

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,” 

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now. 

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours. 

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder. 

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin. 

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table. 

“So,” You started, chest tight. 

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could. 

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers. 

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last. 

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt. 

“So a win-win?” 

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it. 

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch. 

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,” 

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped. 

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening. 

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear. 

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough. 

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,” 

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped. 

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,” 

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching. 

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?” 

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good. 

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer. 

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy. 

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again. 

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls. 

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room. 

You were in a bed now. How had that happened? 

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on. 

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Would you like it?”

A nod. 

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures. 

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you. 

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust. 

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours. 

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere. 

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets. 

She loved you. 

You loved her. 

How perfect. 

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together. 

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel. 

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling. 

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her. 

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly. 

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you. 

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer. 

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob. 

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate. 

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat. 

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern. 

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,” 

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,” 

Liar. Her grin gave her away. 

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,” 

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride. 

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,” 

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time. 

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile. 

No more secrets. No more sadness. 

You were finally officially a Medarda.

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

10. Always worth your time 💌

If arrogance is a cloak, he wears it proudly

A golden smile with silver teeth approaches you. His ginger hair falls smoothly in elegant curls, draping near the white headphones over his neck. His red top contrasts the blue hues of his eyes, followed by an expensive car that pops out in the background.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was made with money.

“Heard you need a ride?” His teasing tone continues.

You grin, “I recall, saying no?”

He shrugs, before grabbing your bag from your shoulder, and walking to the passenger seat, holding the door open for you, “And I recall not responding, so where are we going?”

“Supposedly at my student’s house for a tutoring session, but her mother cancelled.”

He gasps sarcastically, “Then I get to have you all to myself today?”

“By whose words?”

“Mine.”

“It better be worth my time.”

He winks, “I’m always worth your time.”

—

If spontaneous is a person, you’ve met him.

“You broke the damn machine!” You whisper-yell to the ginger in front of you whose jaw almost reaches the floor as he looks from left to right, checking for prying eyes.

He sighs in disappointment while sliding the palm of his hand on the window of the claw machine, observing how the plush toy drops back to its friends, “I wanted the duck.”

“You can’t have everything in life.”

“Yes I can.”

You shake your head, “It won’t even scan your card. I think that’s a sign that we need to leave. Besides, these games are a scam.”

“99% of gamblers quit before they win,” He scans his arcade card once again. It’s like arguing with a brick wall. Miraculously, the once “broken” machine finally activates.

You raise a brow, “Embarrassing yourself again?”

He rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms before circling his right shoulder back and forth, “Watch.”

His gaze focuses on the yellow duck, carefully aligning the metal claw before squinting and pacing around the machine, looking through each window from every angle.

You pinch the bridge of your nose while trying to stifle a laughter.

Then, he presses the button.

Two pairs of eyes follow the claw machine descend, grabbing the toy. It feels like at any moment the metal grip will slip, but it doesn’t.

Because the duck drops in the prize hole.

Childe falls to his knees before thanking the gods above, whispering sweet nothings in the air repeatedly.

Strangers ranging from kids to teens pass by with knitted brows, deciphering the scene in front of them. It takes you courage not to walk away and pretend you never met the ginger.

Thankfully, he stands up and hands you the duck.

“Didn’t you want this?” You ask.

“I did. I wanted it for you.”

“Oh, I—“

“There’s a photo booth over there. We should take a picture,” He points to the silver booth across the arcade before slipping his fingers between your own and dragging you towards his desired destination.

He continues talking, but every word becomes a void. Your thoughts are frozen. Eyes trained on one thing: his soft hands holding yours as his thumb gently circle your skin while he remains unaware.

“Are you feeling well?” He tilts his head, scanning your face for signs of discomfort.

You don’t even notice you’re inside the booth, “Of course! Let’s start.”

He nods, “Alright, what pose should we do?

You scan the tiny space until you spot a box underneath the bench, “Wait! They have props.”

You snatch a Minnie Mouse headband, adjusting it on your head, while he leisurely grabs the Matching Mickey Mouse version.

“Does it have to be the mouse?”

You chuckle, “Scared to relive the past?”

“Shut up.”

The screen starts counting down as you adjust inside the camera’s frame. Childe follows suit before placing his right arm around your shoulder, featuring a genuine grin.

“We should do a couples pose.”

You elbow his stomach, “You wish.”

Four more pictures were taken until the booth starts printing each one in a row.

“Should we grab lunch?” You ask, realizing the time after opening your phone for the first time since arriving.

“Yeah…” He leads the both of you towards the exit. The photo strips on his hands as he scans them individually.

In the first picture you’re wearing the matching Mickey Mouse headpieces.

In the second frame, he makes a giant heart with his left arm, expecting you to finish it. Instead, you do a thumbs up, grinning at him while he smiles tenderly back.

In the third photo your backs are against one another while making gun poses like Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’re wearing black glasses with a serious expression and he is laughing with messy hair covering one eye.

In the fourth picture, he’s on his knees once again—both hands up in the air as you strangle him on the neck.

In the last picture, he’s wearing a fox hat while you’re wearing a bunny head piece, referencing Jude Hopps and Nick Wilde. His right arm is resting on the top of your head, smirking as you pout, looking up at him.

“Is it that special?”

He hums, eyes still glued on the photos, admiring your beauty, “Very.”

If attraction is a season, now he knows why leaves fall in autumn.

NOTES:

i’m back lol i hope all of you are doing well 😍

i failed my calc test, my grade went from a 96 to an 88, i’m TWEAKING but it’s okay IM COOKED (the asian in me wasn’t working today bruh) i was born a writer not a mathematician. but i’ll bring it up trust

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

masterlist | previous | next

TAGLIST (OPEN!): @thegalaxyisunfolding @stratusworld @tiramizuloz @miy-svz @trulyylee @batatinhafriita @scaradooche @yuminako @m1njizzie @mtndewbajablasted @fadedpinkpen @vavrin @kioffy @kokoomie @ashveil @tired-jaz @nia333 @riabriyn @kyon-cherri @kitsunetori @morgyyyyyyy @kazumiku @ichorstainedskin @hanilessa @s4ikooo1 @matolka @appy-slicez @monocerosei @mostlymoth @heathnyfangirl @meigalaxy @x-hihihi-x @lunaavity @ladyofpandemonium @coffeeisbehindyou @mentallyunpresent @wrangleanangel @littlesliceofcheese @ell1e2010 @vi0let-writes @strawbyan @blupi02 @eccendentesiast-sapphic @aixaingela @fo-love @mickey-d-luffy @nanfufu @cryoarchoness @li-x1nyu

If your name is bolded, for some reason I can’t tag you :(

[maybeimavillain-byleif]

I saw parts of the episode 11, the ones with Jason of course hehehe I can't get out of my head Jason's car in leathers, his perfume, the cliche moment when he puts the belt for us in his car, him being a gentleman and helping us getting in his car while holding our hand, the fact that in the end he decided to buy groceries for the dinner but paying in the end so we don't spend money, THE FACT HE'S GOING TO COOK😩😩😩😩 HIS APARTMENT😩😩😩😩 him without his jacket and his sleeves rolled up😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 everything for me just screams SUGAR DADDY!!!😩😩😩 Jason, please, you know what you have to do😩 you have a bed right there... And the shower...🫣 Stupid Candy, I wanted to spend the night with him having dinner at his house😭😭😭😭 I don't care if nothing else happens, I deserved it😭😭😭😭

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 8

(A/N) Shopping episode!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: kissies, fluff, Simon is fucking smitten, a lot of money spending, little spice

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

When you walked into the boutique, you were surprised that it was empty. While you had never shopped there, you had walked by multiple times with friends, and it was usually rather full. But no, there was not a soul, besides Simon, two staff members, and you.

“Oh Simon, it’s good to see you. How is Millie?”

An older woman walked out from the back and right to the man beside you, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Imone, it’s good to see you too. Millie is fine, she will probably be mad that we didn’t take her with us when she finds out we went here. And thank you for clearing out the shop for us, I appreciate it.”

She waved her hands in the air, smiling at him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Anything for you.”

Her warm, friendly eyes flickered to you, a grin taking over her mouth.

“And who is this, if I may ask?”

You quickly introduced yourself, your smile widening when Simon hastily added ‘My girlfriend.’.

“Oh, Simon! She is way too pretty for you.”

She grabbed your cheeks lightly squishing them as she grinned at you, before she turned to Simon, chuckling.

“Just kidding, just kidding. Now, what can we do for you?”

Simon rolled his eyes in a good-natured manner, leading you further into the establishment.

“We need a dinner dress for her. Something elegant, but simple.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the Imone rush through the store, picking out dresses and handing them to what you assumed were her assistants, who carried them to a dressing room. While you were completely enamored by her, Simon took the opportunity to look around, picking out a few things and handing them off as well. Once they were both satisfied, you were hurried to the dressing room.

You tried on dress after dress, parading it in front of both Imone and Simon, but after you were done with the first ten, none of you were too happy with any of them. As you walked out in the eleventh dress, you noticed that Simon was on his phone, typing away again, not even looking up and you felt your heart break a little. He probably hated dress shopping, after all, what man would actually enjoy that?

With a quiet sigh, you walked back into the changing room and pulled the curtain close behind you. But before you could call out to one of the assistants to help you out of the dress, the curtain was pushed to the side and Simon entered.

“Is everything okay? You were gone so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to look.”

His eyes found yours in the mirror, concern evident.

“You were busy on your phone, I…I just thought you were tired of seeing me in the umpteenth dress.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands quickly finding your hips as he carefully pulled you back and against his chest.

“Darling, I will never tire of seeing you. I don’t care if you’re in a ballgown or in the same shirt you’ve worn for the last three days. You will always look ravishing and I will always want to see you. I promise.”

He peppered featherlight kisses against the skin of your neck as you relaxed against him, a content smile on your lips. One of his hands drifted to the back of your dress, where he skillfully popped the buttons until the sleeves started to slip down your arms. Out of reflex, you lifted them to keep the fabric from exposing yourself, but when Simon’s warm hands settled over your wrists and gently pulled them down, you didn’t fight it.

“Let me see them…”

He hissed as soon your breasts were fully exposed, nipples quickly hardening under his gaze. You watched in the mirror as his hands lifted, cupping them and humming appreciatively as his thumbs started to rub over your perks. A low moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against his chest, eyes lidded as you gazed up at him.

His eyes were dark as he drank you in, fingers softly pinching and pulling as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You needed to be filled so badly, but he paid you no mind as you quietly whimpered. Only when you whispered his name did he finally look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he took in the state you were in.

“Ssshh…not here, my love. Only I get to hear you when you finally scream my name.”

Another whine left your lips at his words, this one in frustration as he chuckled in amusement. His fingers tugged on your nipples one more time before he lowered his hands until they were wrapped around your waist. One quick kiss to your temple, and he took a step back, coldness filling the space where he once was, but his hands remained on you, keeping you up until he was sure you wouldn’t collapse.

Your breaths still came out in little pants as he let you go, looking around the dressing room before he picked a dress out from underneath the others and hung it on top.

“Why don’t you try this one next?”

With those words and a shit-eating grin, he left the dressing room. You took a few more moments to calm yourself down before you called in one of the assistants and changed into the dress Simon had picked out just minutes before. And you loved it.

It was a beautiful off-shoulder dress with a flowing skirt that reached just beneath your knees. The sleeves were layered and crossed in front to form the bodice. It was made of soft and light satin with a layer of gorgette over it, creating a slight shimmering effect. Once you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you. The color made your skin glow, and the cut hugged you in all the right places.

While you were still standing in the changing room, slowly spinning back and forth, the assistant came back with a pair of heels.

“Mister Riley said to bring these to you. Said they would go nicely with the dress.”

You nodded and held onto the wall as the woman carefully helped you step into them. A relieved sigh left your lips as you noted that the heel wasn’t too tall and appeared to be more of a block than a stiletto. They were surprisingly comfortable to wear as you stepped out and walked to where Simon and Imone were waiting.

The moment the woman caught sight of you, a loud gasp escaped her, and she turned to Simon, whose eyes were slowly moving down your body, a hungry look in them.

“You look fabulous, darling.”

You grinned at Imone and quietly thanked her before your eyes focused on the man before. His hands were curled into fists, which rested on the top of his thighs and he looked as if it took everything within him to not pounce on you that very moment.

“We’ll take that one, as well as the shoes.”

Instantly, you tried to reach behind you, your fingers searching for the price tag, but Simon just chuckled, knowing what you were trying to do.

“Don’t worry about it. They don’t have price tags here.”

He got to his feet and slowly stalked towards you, wrapping his hands around your waist the moment he was close enough. Involuntarily, you immediately relaxed against him, leaning closer out of instinct. He grinned down at you, gently pecking your lips before spinning you around and sending you back to the changing room with a light pat against your ass.

By the time you were back in your own clothes, Simon had already paid and was waiting for you on the couch. The moment he heard you approaching, he looked up from his phone, a soft smile on his face, you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“The bags are already in the car. Ready to leave when you are.”

You nodded and looked around. If you were honest with yourself, you could spend hours in this store. The dresses weren’t all; they also had a huge shoe section and an entire room just for accessories. But for today, you were more than happy with what you had tried on what Simon had bought you.

“Let’s go.”

He nodded and got to his feet, his hand immediately finding yours and holding onto it. Both of you bid goodbye to Imone - who had you promise to stop by again soon and bring Millie next time - before you walked back out into the street and to the car. Once the both of you sat inside, and Simon was about to start the engine, his phone pinged and he pulled it out, a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Millie’s classes are ending early today. Do you mind if we pick her up?”

You grin, already excited to see the little girl again.

“Of course not!”

Simon smiled, gently raising your hand to his lips before pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles.

“Let’s go then.”

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash @xanvasy @reader-1290

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[anomaly-076]

If the tkdb ghouls were the whb devils, who do you think would be who?

If Tkdb boys were WHB demons

‎‧₊˚✿Masterlist✿˚₊‧

♦ Ooh a fun concept! ^^ *rolls up sleeves*

  ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Jin

Jin is an absolute Belphegor with the whole 'leave me alone I'm sleeping thing'

Plus he has his trusty servant to take care of everything

Tohma

For the same reason I'm gonna say Tohma is pretty much Beleth

A trusty servant taking on the responsibilities of leading the kingdom/house

Lucas

Okay, not a devil, but I'm gonna say Minhyeok

Our trusty childhood friend who's all prim and proper

And him and Ppyong are amazing besties just like Lucas and Kaito

Kaito

To simply put it: Kaito is an idiot

Kinda like Ppyong, who mostly says stuff that make you wonder if there's a single braincell happening (doesn't matter, he's my son either way)

They both also see themselves at a prince in a shining armor

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Alan

Rarely talks, doesn't really show much emotions...

That sounds like Zagan to me!

Another thing they have in common is their interest in working out

Leo

*sigh* this might be controversial, but I don't hate Leo

Otherwise I'd hate to assign him one of my favorites: Paimon

They're both these cheery and cutesy social media fiends

To be fair: Paimon is a bit controversial too

In a way that there was a bit of drama bc regarding people's HCs (one person was hypocritical about them not adhering to canon)

Sho

Bike boy Sho gets a bike boy Amy

They're both pretty chill despite coming off as a meanie at first

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Haku

Our ever-so-cheery Haku can be no other than babyboy Gamigin

They're both so energetic and adorable ^^

Towa

This is more based on my personal HC, but Morax strikes me as the type to be able to talk to plants/animals and to attract them

Both our boys are on the quiet side and morax is definitely the romantic type too

Ren

In the original design, Gusion was made out to be a gamer in a onesie and so I HC that it was his "teenage" phase he hasn't grown out of and only chooses to dress more mature

They both would absolutely love to have a movie/gaming marathon with MC

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Taiga

Ah, guns ablazing

Stolas has a bit of a short fuse and likes to fire two of his thompsons

I kinda wanna see these two on a shooting range now

Romeo

With Romeo's obsession with meeting deadline money goals, Bimet is the absolute perfect equivalent

We even had an event where some of his money went missing and he threw such a bad temper tantrum

Ritsu

This one is kinda hard...

I don't think there is a demon that would be similar to Ritsu..

Oh, but we do have Bael who is constantly doing paperwork instead of Beelzebub, who's always gone

And Bael is constantly sending all the other nobles out to chase him down

Just like Ritsu constantly bothers Taiga and Romeo with his lawyer roleplay

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Subaru

Subaru as the pretty boy he is gets another pretty boy, Foras

According his idiosyncrasy, Foras is the prettiest demon in Hell so much so even his king, Leviathan, gets jealous

Haku

Personality vise I don't think we have a demon to match Haku, but the spiritual vibe he has reminds me of Buer

Buer gives me the vibe of some temple priest/spiritual healer

Zenji

Zenji is another one who's kinda hard to find a demon for

There isn't really an artist/writer type of demon

So maybe... Astaroth?

Astaroth finds pleasure in corrupting people with his words, just like Zejni wants to spread his poems and songs

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Edward

Old man

Just like Lucifer

I can imagine them sitting in Lucifer's greenhouse and relaxing together

Rui

Another one I wanna say Astaroth about?

Rui is a flirt, just like Astaroth

Plus the whole bar thing matches the corruption thing really well

I once even wrote Astaroth as someone you don't want to watch over the alcohol on a party

Lyca

This one is kinda obvious: Naberius

Since he can turn into Cerberus while angry and they're both precious

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Yuri

Yuri gives strong Agares vibes withe way he thinks everything revolves around him

They're both full of themselves and have a faithful sidekick

Jiro

Gentle giant ♥

Okay, Marbas isn't as gentle (if even), but they're both precious big medic boys

I can even imagine Marbas waving a chainsaw around

If he wan't for the safety of everyone tied up

[lycanlupins]

┌─ “ „ EYES LIKE SKY ─┐

Roy Harper x F!Reader - Chapter 1

Cam Girl Au! [+18]

Sex toys, D&S elements, controlled orgasm, pet names

AN: im kinda back?? idk im trying this out because i really like writing again 🥹 lmk if y’all like this!! remember to like + rb + leave a comment if you enjoyed it!! Anyways, enjoy Chapter 1!!

You heard a familiar ping come from your laptop, a sign that everything was up and working on your end.

“Great…” you sigh and roll your eyes, “Time for another show.” You’re a cam girl, and a pretty successful one at that, but it never failed to make you rethink your career path when you logged in at the same time every night like clockwork. You didn’t have a specialty so to speak but you did have a specific clientele, so you did what you do best; angle your camera, adjust your lingerie and press the glaring red go live button to start your show.

[r0binhood]: how’s our favorite girl?

[seraphicsiren]: tired, been pretty low energy lately but i’m ready to please as always!

Your number one fan, r0binhood, was finally there and that meant you’d be taking home at least $100 that night.

[r0binhood]: good, hopefully that means you have all of your toys charged ;)

Gag. He was probably some creep in his 50’s, rubbing one out on his wrinkly cock while you talk him through it but fuck it, his money was a nice cushion while you got back on your feet at the new apartment you were renting.

“Hi boys, let’s start shall we?” You purred, pushing the straps of your nightgown down ever so slowly just to tease your viewers. Suddenly you hear a familiar notification, your first tip of the night. A few tokens here and there from desperate men trying to get your attention but you knew better. You knew if you wanted the real money, you would wait for him.

r0binhood has sent you 50 tokens.

There it is. You push down your nightgown, exposing the lacey bra underneath, a slew of tips flooding your notifications once more. They never got to see your face, it was your one rule, and it kept the mystery alive for them. You won’t have a breach of privacy and they can imagine you look like their wildest, wettest dreams.

[r0binhood]: private show?

[seraphicsiren]: you know the rules, private shows are 500 an hour.

He wouldn’t, you knew better than to expect a man to buy that sort of time on one of your shows. Sure, you may make a few hundred per show along with your other forms of income but a private show? In your dreams. You were asking $25 an hour for your time, it wasn’t much but most men would tune out then and there.

r0binhood bought a private show.

The screen went blank, no notifications to be had and then an empty chat popped up.

[r0binhood]: hi princess. just thought i’d spoil myself and see what you can do for me with the time we have here.

You were used to entertaining multiple men, and sometimes others, at the best of times on your streams. This was scary, this was something you were completely foreign to.

[seraphicsiren]: you have an hour of my time to tell me to do whatever it is you’d like. my attention is all on you.

Your hands were shaking, sweaty, and clammy at the thought of performing for one person. You had been intimate in the past, that wasn’t the issue, he was paying for you to please him this time. And while yes, you knew what he liked more or less, he was still someone completely stranger to you.

[r0binhood]: why don’t you start off with the bullet, don’t take anything off, just use the bullet on yourself.

You grabbed the compact vibrator from your nightstand, flipping the switch to the on position as it came to life with a whirring sound. Most often than not, you were in control of the speed and rhythm, but tonight he had tricks up his sleeve.

r0binhood redeemed 300 tokens for bullet control.

Shit. You begrudgingly sent the link for a 10 minute session on your vibrator.

[seraphicsiren]: use those 10 minutes wisely

[r0binhood]: i’ll only need 5

An immediate slow vibration started against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your nerves.

“Fuck…” you moan under your breath. Usually men like him would spend their 10 minutes of control on the highest setting, they never knew what you liked. They thought all women must like a high intensity session when it just felt boring to you, but you faked orgasm after orgasm when they were in control to make them feel better.

Not this time. No, this man knew what he was doing, he slowly upped the intensity until he heard that hitch in your breathing, the one that indicated that it must have felt good.

“Mmnh…that feels so good, christ…” you lolled your head back, rutting against the vibrator and a pillow under you for better friction. He must have noticed the way you were reacting because he immediately switched up the intensity for a split second to grab your attention.

[r0binhood]: needed your attention sweetheart, i want your eyes on me, i want to watch you come undone.

This man… he commanded his attention, and he commanded it well. Why was this man behind the screen making you feel horny for some god forsaken reason? Was it the dominance? The control he had over you at this moment? Fuck it, you didn’t care, it just felt so damn good.

Another minute passed before he grew bored of the intensity, turning it up a setting or two.

“Shit!” You squeaked, panting like a dog at the feeling between your legs. You were soaking, dripping all over your pretty red sheets and pillows, grinding down for some semblance of friction against your puffy, needy cunt.

Soon enough, the setting he was at was beginning to make you see stars. Babbling nonsense and a string of curses as you kept humping your pillow like a horny teen until—

“SHITSHITSHIT!” You felt that tight coil in your stomach pop, squirting all over your sheets and everything within a small distance of you. You wanted to collapse, you could feel your legs turn to jelly as you tried to crawl back to your laptop.

[seraphicsiren]: 5 minutes…left…

You knew he was chuckling behind his screen, because how the fuck did he get you to squirt on camera with just him in control.

[r0binhood]: i’ll let you be for tonight, here’s the rest of my tokens. i’ll be back tomorrow night if you’re online. see ya princess.

r0binhood tipped 1000 tokens.

Not long afterwards you ended your stream, too spent and shocked to continue for the night. You shut your laptop, cleaned your bed and made a beeline for your kitchen.

“How the fuck did he do that…” you racked your brain for the amount of times you had actually cum on stream. You could count the times on one hand and now make that two hands. You were still throbbing, rubbing your legs together while you washed some dishes in your sink. You never noticed the window in your kitchen was facing another occupied apartment until just now.

“Huh…wonder who lives there.” You watch the light from their tv flicker different colors. Suddenly you see movement, someone getting closer to the window. Holy fuck.

He looks directly at you, a smile wide on his face as he waves and opens his window. You were awestruck for a moment, he was gorgeous. Not in a model way but something different. He was rugged and manly but still somehow read as boyish. After a few moments you join him in opening your window, leaning out ever so slightly.

“Hi! I’m Roy, nice to see a friendly face across the way for once!” He shouted.

“I’m Y/N, I’m guessing this place was empty for a bit?”

“Yeah, this isn’t really the nicest building around but it's got charm! What do you say we meet for coffee sometime? I haven’t met anyone around my age in forever.”

“Yeah! How does tomorrow morning sound?”

He smiles a toothy grin. God he was cute, missing a tooth by his right canine and light ginger stubble littered his chin. He nodded while you were busy taking in every feature of his face and he chuckled.

“Hey, get some sleep, you look out of it.” He shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear. You couldn’t tell if you were throbbing from the mind numbing orgasm you had earlier or if his kind smile had your brain in a tizzy, either way you needed to take care of that feeling before bed. You finished up dishes in the kitchen, closed your window and headed straight for the cum soaked bed.

You were honestly too tired and too horny to care so you grabbed the nearest towel and dropped it on top of your sheets. You could worry about that in the morning, right now you needed sweet relief. And with your final spur of energy you grabbed your dildo and got right to work at the thought of that hot ginger across the hall.

➸➸➸

[delirious-donna]

The Moments Before [Part Six]

"You will drink from her. We will find out together if there is any truth behind the old stories. This is not a request. It’s an order.”

story summary: Levi isn’t hungry, or so that’s what he claims. A vampire must drink to survive, and his sire refuses to let the man give up without trying every trick up his sleeve. When a new ‘donor’ appears, one who is different from all the rest, will Levi be able to keep resisting?

pairing: Levi Ackerman (vampire) x female reader (human)

warnings: hospital/medical setting (dream), implications of losing a parent, grief, fear of death, a lot of plotting for the story, vampire powerplay

note: the next chapter... yeah, it's gonna be a BIG one. Explosive to say the least, and expect very mature content. Whilst I'm here, let me thank all of those who have left comments or reblogged this story. 2024 has been a shitshow and writing has helped me stay sane. Thank you for indulging my hobby.

Part Five | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Seven

“What made you want to try this line of work?”

The question sounded innocent enough, but you still peered curiously at Hange.

They were lying spread out on an antique couch that looked like it was due far from respect than what it was receiving. Your eyes narrowed on them, picking at their cuticles and swinging a barefoot over the back of said couch.

Trust was earned in your book. That was a lesson you had learned the hard way, and if you were to continue your service here then you needed to be mindful of what information you volunteered and to whom. Saying that, Hange had been nothing but friendly towards you, in fact, they were the first person to really talk to you.

Pleasantries were all well and good, but they wore thin very quickly. Hange had appeared in your life like a whirlwind, and despite the reservations you had promised yourself you would hold tight to, you found it all too easy to become a little more familiar with them.

“Well, the money is good,” you admitted slowly, cautiously.

Hange snorted and rolled their body, so they were looking at you properly, glasses perched low on their nose. “Girl, please. There has got to be more to it than the fat wad of cash Erwin handed you. I know—for a fact—that there are well paying jobs that are far less intrusive than this one. You had to move here for an indefinite period. That is not an easy decision to make for a quick buck, even if it is the big bucks.”

“It was a good enough answer when your boss interviewed me, and I use that word lightly, grilled would be far more accurate.”

Erwin had been very thorough in his line of questioning, even going as far as to ask for your family history going back six generations. You recalled him explaining with the most casual of shrugs and a soft, near disconcerting smile, that no vampire worth mentioning wanted to take blood from a potential relative. What a disturbing thought…

“Erwin and I do not think alike—at all—in any way, shape or form.” Hange snorted, amused that you would ever think them to be remotely similar. “Whilst he would absolutely know if you were lying…”

A thrill shot through your spine. Hange smiled, knowing that your heart rate had spiked at that very moment.

“As I was saying… he would know if you were lying, but sometimes we can tell the truth whilst not revealing everything. I enjoy picking holes in people. Consider yourself my latest project.”

Suddenly the gummy bears in your hand looked less appealing than before. Dropping the handful into your lap, you placed one on your tongue and sucked on it quietly. You had no interest in being a weird science experiment.

“C’mon,” Hange chided with a childlike whine.

They rolled right off the edge of the couch with an ungraceful thump and crawled on their knees towards the overstuffed chair you occupied, planting their chin on the arm. They reminded you of a puppy who had just been scolded.

“We’re friends, right? It’s not like I don’t trust you. I just wanna know. There’s a reason other than the money, isn’t there?”

If you didn’t already feel trapped, you certainly did now.

How on earth had you found yourself in the company of a vampire acting like a damn puppy so readily? They were meant to be these all-powerful beings and here was Hange acting like if you gave them the barest of crumbs, they would roll over to present their belly. It defied logic!

Pushing out a long, low breath, you straightened your back.

You could admit to certain things, you didn’t need to say it all. It wouldn’t be so bad for at least someone around here to know a little more about you. Your mind immediately flitted to Levi, cheeks flushing that you wanted that person to be him more than anyone else. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. That’s what you told yourself because the alternative was too dizzying.

“I definitely didn’t lie; money really is a major factor. My dad… he works too hard. He’s getting older now and he refuses to slow down even though I know—I can see—the toil it’s taking on him. I want him to retire whilst he still has a chance to live, to enjoy his golden years without having to worry that he won’t have enough money to pay the bills. Do you know how annoying it is to have a father who refuses to listen to reason?”

“I can imagine,” Hange replied, eyebrows raised, and you had the distinct impression that they were thinking of one such person who fit your description. You smiled in recognition. “I get that, but blood donor, really? Didn’t fancy a short stint of working as a high-end escort or something that doesn’t come with the iron deficiency and the headache of cranky vampires?”

This was the crux of your problem; vampires offered you the potential solution to another problem. A far more personal problem. It felt like your clock was ticking and the noise only grew louder and more deafening with each day that passed.

You blinked hard, shutting out the fluorescent strip lighting and the beeping monitors that never ceased their noise. Not even in those final moments, the sound of a flatlining heart monitor permanently scarred your memories.

That was not your future. It had been so much of your past that you damn well refused to give it any room in your future. Drastic times called for drastic measures. Weren’t you using them as much as they were using you? It was a fair trade, right?

“You’re right, it would have been easy to fall into escorting, if I could find a place reputable enough to ensure I wasn’t going to be taken advantage of, but I have a problem with getting close to people,” you said whilst looking down at your fuzzy yellow socks.

“How so? You seem just fine in being able to converse and I don’t sense any social anxiety in you, even when you’re the only human in the room. Plus, this job requires you to get close… I mean, it’s kinda necessary.” Hange sat back on their haunches, puzzlement evident in their features and their eyes dropping to your neck and back.

It felt like being under a microscope.

You shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance. “People die. I have a problem with that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m fucked.”

“An understatement, dear.”

A chuckle left your lips, it grew into peals of laughter until you were clutching your stomach and bent over from the pain of them. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, not yet falling, and you were quick to wipe them away as you fixed your watery stare on Hange.

You hadn’t lied, but again, you hadn’t disclosed everything.

“Any chance we can change the subject for now? I’m feeling suitably embarrassed,” you said with a hiccup.

Gratitude filled your chest when they nodded, solemn one moment then playful the next, moving on to regale you with tales of their younger years spent with Erwin and Levi.

~

“What’s the problem?” Erwin inquired, fatigue evident in his tone, and mirrored by the pinching motion at the bridge of his nose.

Levi wasn’t keen to be back in this office, but he knew that when it came to finding the answers he needed… Erwin would be key. There was only so much he could find out on his own.

He just needed to take care with his words, not something he was known for.

“Why her?”

The blond stilled, his piercing blue eyes locking with Levi’s. A smile unfurled—devilish and knowing. “There is something you aren’t telling me, Levi, but that’s okay. You’ll tell me in your own time, I have nothing but time, after all.”

“You’re not helping! Can you answer a question without turning it back on me or into some elaborate riddle that makes my head pound?” Levi all but growled.

“Fine,” he sighed. “You want to know why her… I don’t know if I can truly articulate my reasons, there was simply a feeling. She felt like someone you would like, for lack of a better word. That you wouldn’t steamroll over her and perhaps she could reach you where I have been unsuccessful.”

Erwin’s gaze turned thoughtful, the edges of his eyes softening into something akin to melancholy. Levi glanced away, not nearly ready to decipher any of the emotions flitting freely across his maker’s face.

“Do you remember those stories you used to tell us about blood singing?” Levi asked without further preamble.

“… yes. Of course. They are legends of sort; I don’t think there are many—if any—that believe the tales these days. Why do you ask?”

Levi looked at him now. Gray mercurial irises fixed steadily on those artic blue ones that never failed to leave him feeling as if Erwin was looking inside his head, rifling through his memories and thoughts as if it was his personal filing cabinet.

“Did it happen—”

Levi held up a hand, and for once, Erwin quieted.

“You say there is little to no one that believes it to be true, but what about you? Do you think meeting someone who’s blood sings to them is even possible? I hate to admit that I respect your opinion, and whilst I am neither confirming nor denying if it has happened, I want to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

Erwin sat back in his chair, elbows braced on the sturdy arms and his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His lips pursed. If Levi didn’t know any better, he would say his heart was racing, but he was too far into the starvation process for that to be true. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, fingers gripping tighter into his thighs to prevent himself from spitting and hissing, demanding an answer rather than this painfully prolonged silence.

“Well, my head says it was a foolish story concocted to soothe the newly turned, for those that disliked the idea of constantly taking blood from humans to sustain their existence. One person who was made for them, who could provide everything they needed and potentially be able to turn without it affecting their blood… who wouldn’t want that?”

For a moment, Levi thought that was his final thought, but Erwin surprised him by continuing after more than a beat or two of silence.

“My heart wants it to be true,” Erwin said with a solemn nod of his head. “For one it would mean more power to any vampire lucky enough to meet their blood singer…”

Levi scoffed at Erwin’s words but did not interject further, letting him continue despite the arch of his thick black eyebrow.

“Ultimately, our lives are lonely. We can be surrounded by our own kind, but true connections between vampires are rare and don’t often survive the difficulties that come with that type of relationship. I would be a fool not to want a slice of companionship that didn’t involve an element of wariness.”

Erwin sat forward, fixing Levi with a penetrating stare. “I am not above wanting to find the person destined to be mine and mine alone. Those blessed enough to encounter these… special people, they should not squander that gift.”

Goddammit.

He was right. That realisation grated down Levi’s nerves more than he thought it would. If all of this was correct, he really would be an idiot not to explore it further, but… was it the right thing to do? How would you take this news? Would you even believe him?

The thought that you were his perfect companion, the only person in this world who could sustain him indefinitely, even if turned, and would strengthen him in ways he did not yet comprehend, that was a lot to ask of anyone. A donor’s job was only ever meant to last a few months, maybe a year, but not for the rest of your life.

“I don’t like this,” he admitted quietly.

His hand clenched into a fist atop his lap, eyes concentrating on how the tendons and muscles flexed and shifted beneath his pale skin. “Who am I to condemn anyone’s live like that? No one would want to be tethered to me in such a way.”

“You forget your past lovers,” Erwin interjected calmly. “There was at least one of them who begged you for the chance of immortality. Was that not in an effort to stay with you?”

Levi bristled at the memory, at the ache that still found him all these decades later. “I was merely a means to an end, and you damn well know that. They were far more driven in ambitions than I realised until it was almost too late.”

“In any case, that is by the by. I must insist that you determine if your assumptions are correct. Yes, Levi, I am well aware that you think our newest donor is your blood singer despite the pitifully weak attempts at hiding that fact from me. I am not an idiot. Plus, it seems you might have intrigued Hange by letting it slip in some capacity to the little one.”

“What do you mean?” Levi demanded, his guard coming up in an instant. He did not want Hange poking their annoying nose into this business, they would be insufferable to say the least.

Laughter erupted from Erwin, far too boisterous for Levi’s liking. “Well, did you mention anything about blood singing to our guest? Maybe you didn’t mean to, or you hadn’t realised, but she asked Hange about it on the drive here after your first encounter. I had to pull that little tidbit from them, they were not happy about my means either.”

“I’ll bet,” Levi grumped. He was all too familiar with the exertion of power that Erwin had over him and the others made by his hands. Hange might be a pest at the best of times, but he hoped that the experience had not been too rough, especially given how precarious Erwin’s mood had been of late.

Standing, Levi brushed his palms over his thighs and moved towards the door. The action was mirrored by the much taller man, Erwin intercepting him without much effort.

Suddenly the air shifted. No longer was there a sense of familial warmth, more so it felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Oppressive and thick—the gesture did not go unnoticed.

“Now is not the time to be leaving, Levi.”

“Are you planning on stopping me if I try?” he asked, head cocked in curiosity of how far Erwin was willing to play his hand.

“I would rather not, but if needs must…”

The threat lingered; Levi could feel the first tendrils of power leaking from his sire and knew if push came to shove, he would be forced to bend the knee and remain if that was what was asked of him. He hated that power, that stupid connection that bound him to Erwin like an invisible ball and chain around his ankle. This was part of why he wanted to end it all, or so he tried to convince himself.

“If you were so set on ending your existence, why not have someone behead you or destroy your heart? Levi, I am sorry, but all I have viewed this ridiculous plot of yours is a temper tantrum. You will drink from her. We will find out together if there is any truth behind the old stories. This is not a request. It’s an order.”

The hairs on Levi’s arms and at the back of his neck stood up. Energy pulsed like lapping waves inside the room, they were coming faster and stronger with each ripple. Soon he would be forced to bow to the whims of his sire.

He could count on one hand the number of times this had played out. Erwin meant every word; his conviction would not be swayed. Should he continue to fight against it?

“Why?” he asked, voice hoarse with the effort of producing the single word.

“I have my reasons. Whether I decide to clue you into them will depend on how the next little while goes,” Erwin answered stiffly.

Levi found his gaze straying to the door. Not because he was still trying to leave, he could have shadowstepped if he didn’t know that Erwin would prevent it, but because there were voices on the other side.

Voices he recognised.

His heart lurched in his chest. Golden threads awakening to tighten around the withering organ.

You were coming.

~

“Does it hurt?”

It was amazing how childlike you sounded despite being in your early twenties, almost like it wasn’t your voice at all. Except… it was yours.

Your mother turned a weak smile in your direction, it didn’t reach her eyes—dulled with pain—and you knew the answer would be a lie. Not one borne of bad intention, quite the opposite, but it would be a deceit regardless.

“No, darling. I’m fine, more than fine when my girl is here with me.” She reached for you; her hand was thinner than you had ever known it, the skin near translucent to highlight the veins beneath and the fragile bones.

The comfort you should have felt from taking your mum’s hand didn’t manifest. There was no warmth, only an ice-cold hand wrapped delicately around yours. You worried that if she tried to squeeze your fingers, her bones might snap entirely.

The time was coming. There was nothing you could do to stop it. Doctors had tried and failed. Your mother would die and there wasn’t a single thing in this world you could do to prevent it.

It wasn’t long before the familiar lump settled into your throat, and welling of tears began in your eyes, smudging your vision whilst you tried desperately to blink them away. You could feel the frown creasing between your eyebrows, and the downward tilt of your lips. It didn’t matter how long you had known this would be the outcome; the hurt was still as raw as when the doctor had given his final prognosis.

Slowly, you crumpled over her bed. The bright overheard strip lighting might not be as intense in the private side room than in the main ward, but they still stung your eyes even when you closed them tightly shut.

If only the constant beeping from the monitors would fade away until all you could hear was your own laboured breathing and the soothing hum from your mum as she stroked her fingers through your hair in an effort to console you.

Your father should be here, and his absence only became apparent when three resounding knocks came from the door, with it a chill far greater swept over you until you were convinced you could see the very breath from your mouth.

Something wanted to come in, but it wasn’t time.

There was more to be said, more to be shared. More more more.

“You can’t ignore it forever,” your mum said quietly.

“Watch me.”

She made to tut, but her tongue got stuck behind her teeth and she coughed instead. You could hear the rattle in her chest, the exertion of her lungs working harder than they should have to.

The guilt ate you and another knock chimed like a death knell.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, lowering your head at the same moment her fingers slipped out of your grasp.

Your vision greyed from the outward corners in, and no matter how much you tried to blink and refocus or look around, the result didn’t change. The beeping was getting worse. There were people in the room now. A black shadow loomed from behind you and a scream ripped through your throat until you jolted awake.

Sweat dripped down your neck as you sat bolt upright, blinking and trying to reorient yourself once your heart thundered so furiously you thought it might break through your ribs.

You were in the same parlour room from earlier, where you had spent a fun few hours chatting with Hange and playing card games when they got bored of only telling stories. The walls were decorated in duck egg blue and the armchair you had fallen asleep on was as opulent as you recalled.

How long were you out?

Hange was nowhere to be seen, and suddenly, with dawn comprehension, the idea of sleeping in a room where anyone living or visiting the household could walk right in cooled your blood. You were nothing more than a naïve lamb in a den of lions.

It took you a good while to calm your racing heart and nerves, a good thing too or you might have screamed when the faraway door clicked loudly before opening just enough for Hange’s head to pop through.

Their eyes scanned the room then fell on you, eyebrows rising along with a smile. “You’re finally awake! It’s only been three hours… tired, were we?”

Three hours?!

“Something like that,” you grumbled, cheeks warming.

Hange chuckled and stepped inside to lean on the door. “Not wise to fall asleep anywhere other than your bedroom. Y’know, it locks for a reason. Gotta keep the monsters at bay somehow, right?”

“Oh, hey! I’m only teasing,” they continued when your pallor turned to ash. “No one would dare, not here, I swear it. Erwin would murder anyone that even thinks about hurting you.”

“That’s… comforting?” You mused, unclear if it was comforting or kind of terrifying to know. “I didn’t sleep great last night; I must have dozed off. I blame your lame ass stories.”

Hange scoffed, hands on hips and nostrils flaring.

“My stories are unrivalled, thank you very much! They sure as hell are more honest than anything you’d get out of Levi, that’s for damn certain. He’s such a stick in the mud.” Hange shook her head as if recalling some long distant memory then jerked up straight. “Nevermind that! You’re wanted!”

“I’m what?”

“Wanted,” they repeated as if that clearly explained everything, and they didn’t know why you needed clarity.

“I don’t speak Hange-euse, can you elaborate?”

“You. Are. Wanted. In. Erwin’s. Office. In. Exactly. Thirty. Minutes. Move!” Hange enthused each word carefully, over-enunciating every syllable dramatically. They motioned their hand between you and the door, gesturing for you to get a move on, but for a moment you were frozen.

Erwin wanted to see you again. You weren’t sure why it felt different from any of the other times you had met with him, especially over the past few days, but there was an air of something brewing that you disliked.

That ominous feeling from your dream resurged with gusto. Had it been some weird kind of warning or were you letting your paranoia overwhelm you? Whatever it was, you couldn’t dwell on it, not when you looked like you had been dragged backwards through a garden maze.

“Alright, I’m going. Don’t shove!”

Destiny awaited behind the mahogany door at the other side of the house. Whether it was good or bad…

That was entirely in your hands now.

[fortytworedvines]

25 from the drabble list? :)

Drabble list - send me a number! Thanks for the prompt! 1.2k of angst with a happy ending ahead:

25 - “Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

It was her own fault, Audrey reflected, as the cold bit deeper into her bones. She called Siegfried stubborn, but she was just as stubborn as him. And on this occasion they had butted heads and she, as she so often did, had won. She would allow him victories when they pertained to his work, his practice. Less often when it was people, their home. And she would never let him win when it regarded her own person and her job outside Skeldale.

More fool me, she mused. Should have let him win this one, Audrey. She huddled further into her coat and the scant shelter of the stone wall. Her bike, useless, wheel bent in two, lay next to her. Snow was piling up on everything. And she was so very, very, cold now.

-- “You’re going out?” He’d looked at her sharply when she came downstairs, neat and trig in her ARP uniform.

“I have my rounds.” She settled her helmet on her head and pulled on her thick winter coat.

“Absolutely not, Mrs Hall.” He gestured to the curtained windows. “The weather – it’s going to snow.”

“There’s no sign of it,” she retorted.

“The farmers know,” he said firmly. “You mustn’t go out.”

“I appreciate your concern, Mr Farnon. But I have a job to do.” She buttoned her coat determinedly.

He slipped round her and stood in front of the door. “I won’t let you.”

“Mr Farnon!” She was torn between frustration and laughter as he spread-eagled himself against the door frame. “You’re being ridiculous! Either you stand aside and let me go and do my vital war job, or we can have a brawl and then I will go and do my job.”

“I’d like to see that,” said Tristan from the doorway. “Go on old chap. My money’s on her.”

Audrey rolled her eyes at the lad. His brother glared. Audrey tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m due out, Mr Farnon.”

With a sigh, he subsided. “Go on then,” he said, stepping away from the door. “But please,” he put out a hand to her as she passed him. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful, Mr Farnon.” She smiled at him and slipped out into the cold night air.

It had started to snow, of course. She’d been on her way back, at least. And it hadn’t been coming down so thickly. But then she’d skidded, lost her balance on a patch of ice. Crashed the bike into the wall and ricked her ankle.

She drew her arms out of the sleeves of her coat and huddled them into her body, pulled her coat over her knees so she was tucked up into a ball. Keep the extremities warm, she thought to herself.

She tried to shuffle her feet to keep them warm, but the pain in her ankle made her gasp. She curled herself even tighter and tried to ignore the cold biting and prickling into her.

Mr Farnon was going to be absolutely infuriating if she got home.

--

The fight between Mrs H and his brother had amused Tristan. He always enjoyed seeing his brother butt up against someone else and Mrs H could hold her own. He hadn’t thought anything about it when she went out on her rounds. Not until Siegfried stood, worried, at the window, tweaked the curtain aside and Tris had seen the flakes swirling down.

Siegfried watched the clock, and Tristan watched him.

“She should be back by now,” Siegfried said. His face was pale.

“She’s only a minute late,” Tris pointed out, always the optimist to his brother’s pessimist.

“Something’s wrong,” Siegfried said. “I can feel it.”

It had been a long time since Tristan had seen his brother so worked up. Worry slid into his own heart. “You really think she’s in trouble?”

“I know so. I’m going to find her.”

Tristan didn’t hesitate. He loved her like he’d loved their mother. “I’m coming with you.”

They took the Rover. “I should have driven her,” Siegfried said. “God, I should have driven her, what was I thinking?”

They knew the route – Audrey had shown them earlier in the year. In the bright summer sun, it had been lovely. Now in the dark and the snow, it had a very different aura.

They drove out of Darrowby, up through the narrow winding lanes. Siegfried grappled with the car while Tristan stared eagerly out, looking for any sign of their errant housekeeper.

Finally, they reached a dip, full of snow. “I can’t go through that,” Siegfried said. “It’ll never make it.” He gritted his teeth. “We carry on on foot.”

They’d put on their winter coats, scarves and hats before they’d left but even with them, Tris was unprepared for the way the wind bit him. For the first time, fear truly gripped him.

“Get moving!” Siegfried shouted.

They scrambled along the stone wall, avoiding the deep snow in the dip, and struck out together. Tristan followed his brother. He found himself irresistibly reminded of the carol – in the bleak midwinter. In his masters steps he trod, indeed! If he hadn’t been so desperately worried, he might have whistled it.

Finally, finally, Siegfried gave a shout. “She’s there!”

They scrambled the final metres and Siegfried fell to his knees next to the cold bundle of their housekeeper. She was huddled over, eyes closed, still.

“She’s not-” Tris couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Breathing,” Siegfried rapped out.

“Thank God.”

Siegfried clambered to his feet then bent and lifted the prone body.

“Let me help,” Tris demanded.

Siegfried shook his head. “I’ve got her.”

Carefully and swiftly, they made their way back to the car.

“You drive,” Siegfried said, as he lifted Mrs Hall into the back seat. He passed Tristan the keys and Tris took them dumbly. “Get a move on, man!”

With cold, shaking fingers, Tris turned the ignition. He glanced into the back seat. His brother had wrapped himself around Mrs Hall and was rubbing her back. He swallowed. Put the car into reverse and sped backwards as fast as he dared until there was a wide spot in the lane. Then he turned and drove like the devil to Skeldale. --

It hurt. Everything hurt. Pain was screaming through her fingers and her toes. But she was somewhere soft, somewhere warm. If it wasn’t for the pain, she’d think she’d died and gone to heaven.

She forced her eyes open. She was in her bed and in the chair by her side was Mr Farnon.

She opened her mouth to speak and managed only a croak.

“You’re awake!”

Never had she seen such relief as she did then in Mr Farnon’s eyes. He dropped to his knees by her bed, found her hand and gripped it tightly.

She stared at him, his dear face, the one she’d thought she’d never see again, when she’d finally lost her battle to stay awake.

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “So sorry.”

He bent his head over their joined hands and pressed his forehead to them. When he finally raised it, there were tears in his eyes. “I thought I’d – we’d lost you.”

“Was – a fool.”

He didn’t disagree. Instead he pressed a kiss to her hand. “Yes,” he said simply.

“Will listen… next time.”

The pain was fading and she was so tired. Her eyes were drifting shut but she knew for certain this time that she would open them again. But one thing remained. “Please – don’t go,” she whispered.

He smiled at her, heartbreakingly tenderly. “Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

Silent Heir, Hidden Dangers - 3

Character: Lawyer!Bucky x Female Character

Summary: She suddenly inherits a fortune from an unknown father, navigating dark secrets with lawyer Bucky Barnes in a suspenseful journey of deception.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , -

Main Masterlist

As Bucky introduced Y/N to Mark, an unsettling tension filled the room. Underneath the mask that obscured his face, Mark raised his voice, frustration evident in his tone. "Why should I care? She never appeared, and suddenly she's the one who got the money?"

Y/N, caught in the crossfire of familial disputes, felt a surge of confusion and anxiety. "That money? I didn't ask for any of this!"

Mark, his emotions boiling over, directed his anger at Bucky. "You damn traitor!”

Maintaining an air of composed detachment, Bucky responded, "This is your father's wish. I'm just carrying out what he asked me to do.”

As Mark clicked his tongue, dismissing the gravity of the situation, he menacingly declared, "This matter will be done in a second." With a swift motion, he aimed the gun at Y/N's head, ready to pull the trigger and end the unfolding chaos.

However, Bucky, ever the cunning strategist, had another trick up his sleeve. With a quick click of a button hidden in his pants, the window, previously shattered and exposed, suddenly closed down, forming an impenetrable barrier. 

It was a modification Bucky had made, revealing a level of preparation that caught Mark off guard.

Seizing the opportunity, Bucky, quick on his feet, threw something at Mark and his partner. The distraction allowed Y/N the chance to free herself from the remaining bindings.

Y/N's eyes widened as she watched Bucky, in a breathtaking display of agility and skill, engage in a fierce battle against two adversaries. 

The room became a blur of swift movements and calculated strikes, with Bucky seamlessly evading and countering the relentless attacks.

His every motion was a testament to years of training, a dance with danger that unfolded with a fluidity that defied the chaos surrounding them. 

Bucky's movements were deliberate, each punch and kick executed with precision, creating a dynamic spectacle that left Y/N both mesmerized and awestruck.

With Mark and his partner subdued and unconscious, Bucky swiftly took control of the situation, grabbing Y/N and efficiently collecting everything of importance in the room. 

As they prepared to make their escape, Y/N, exhausted from the ordeal, stole a weary glance at her step-brother sprawled on the floor.

Noticing her hesitation, he said, "Leave him. He's not our concern right now.”

Together, Bucky and Y/N hurriedly left the compromised "not-so-safe" penthouse. As they navigated the dimly lit corridors, Bucky murmured with a hint of satisfaction, "Luckily, I put that unit into insurance."

Y/N, gritting her teeth in frustration, rolled her eyes at his nonchalant remark. "Insurance? We just got attacked, and you're worried about insurance?"

Bucky, undeterred, replied, "It's not just any insurance. It has some unique perks.”

And he dropped another bombshell. "You have three other siblings."

Y/N, incredulous, halted in her tracks. "What? You should've told me that before all this chaos!"

Bucky, unapologetic, responded, "Would it have changed anything? The less you knew, the safer you were."

Y/N, exasperated, retorted, "Safe? So, the other three want to kill me too?"

Bucky, with a sardonic grin, confirmed, "Oh, for sure.”

Y/N, clicking her tongue in frustration, muttered, "I felt safe already," her words dripping with sarcasm. 

Both of them got into the car and left. The penthouse, now behind them, seemed like a distant memory as the labyrinth of family secrets expanded.

As they navigated the city's shadowy streets, Y/N couldn't shake the burning question. Turning to Bucky, she asked, "My other siblings. Do they have the same mother?"

Bucky, pausing for a moment, finally responded, "Different. You have two brothers and one sister. Each of them has different mothers."

Y/N, incredulous, couldn't contain her surprise. "What? You've gotta be kidding me."

Bucky, chuckling with a hint of irony, explained, "Your father Max was a womanizer.”

Y/N, piecing together the fragmented puzzle of her father's life, couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and understanding. "No wonder why my mother hated him so much.”

Y/N, still grappling with the revelations, muttered, "So, not only do I have to survive attempts on my life, but I also have to navigate through sibling drama. Great.”

Caught in the crossfire of her father's complex legacy, Y/N couldn't help but question the man beside her. "Since you're close with my father, are you the same womanizer like him?"

His mind wandered to the times he had to drag Max out of clubs, deal with irate former flings throwing tantrums because Max never replied to them, and navigate the intricate web of Max's romantic entanglements.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Bucky couldn't suppress a wry smile "Yeah, I guess so."

In the dimly lit room where Mark had awakened, he fumbled with his phone and made a call. "We messed up. She's still alive.”

On the other end, a mysterious figure studied Y/N's documents and photos in the darkness. Mark's voice echoed through the line, "I'm sorry, I failed."

The room plunged into silence before the unseen figure, frustration palpable, stabbed a photo of Y/N and Bucky taken from a traffic camera. "Fine, I'll do it myself.” The person who just spoke is Mason, Max's oldest son.

A mature woman's voice sliced through the quiet, accompanied by the moonlight revealing only the glimmer of a large jade ring on her hand. "Make this right. She's just one person." 

The woman, known as Mrs. Mallory Wolfe, exuded an air of authority that hinted at a deeper connection to the unfolding drama.

Another woman, her voice filled with a seasoned assurance, joined the conversation. "She's alive because Bucky is beside her." 

This was Madeline Wolfe, Max Wolfe's second wife, her calm demeanor masking the complexity of her motives.

In the shadows, another woman with a younger voice, tinged with nervousness, questioned the unfolding events. "Do we really have to do this?" 

The voice belonged to Marianne Wolfe, the youngest stepmother in the enigmatic Wolfe family, a woman caught in the intricacies of loyalty and fear.

Mason, wearing the weight of responsibility, responded with a voice that carried his family's legacy. "Don't worry. I will take care of it."

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 ,-

Author Note :

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Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

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[andkisses]

♡ just about anything | jay ♡

late nights, when really, both of you should have been asleep a long time ago, but who knew this game of monopoly would last so long?

♡ jay x gn!reader | wc. 1.5k ♡ genres/tropes: domestic, competitive couple that won’t quit, staying up way too late ♡ mentions of/warnings: pet names, food, lmk if there’s anything else! <3 ♡ a/n: a repost and revamp of one of my very first writings from YEARS ago </3 (from that blog i accidentally deleted <///333) 

♡ masterlist ♡

With the rest of the lights in the apartment off, the lone one above the kitchen table casts a warm glow into the darkness. The light illuminates the board, littered with green houses, red hotels, and Cheez-Its—you ran out of hotels about an hour ago (but who’s to say?) and needed something to represent a double-hotel on the board. There’s a notebook on the table that keeps getting passed back and forth, covered in numbers and tallies in two different handwritings. It’s currently functioning as a paper bank account, since the game has escalated far beyond the cash given  in a standard Monopoly box.

Your eyes are tired, nearly burning with ache; it’s been too long, and it’s very much past your bedtime. But the both of you are stubborn, and horrifically competitive–especially when it’s just the two of you. He seems just as drained, eyes dropping and his head propped up on a closed fist. The loose hoodie slides down his arm, pooling around the elbow, and he uses the sleeve of the other to wipe at his eyes. Just seeing him sleepy makes you sleepy, and your head is bobbing up and down. It would be so much better to be curled up in his arms right now. The game is one of chance at this point, all up to the dice roll. The only safe spots on the board are your own; everything else is meaningless to you. You know you want to land on your properties and not his, for those Cheez-Its are threatening and—

“Did you just eat some of the board?” you ask, the dice still caught between your hands. 

Jay looks up at you and blinks slowly, still chewing on the stolen Cheez-It. He swallows and takes a sip of his nearly empty glass of water before answering. “No.”

You shake your head, tilting it to one side. “No what?”

“No, I didn’t eat the board. I took it from the bowl, like a civilized person.” He points with his free hand lazily at the blue plastic bowl the Cheez-Its had been poured into when the demand for new hotels had arisen. How long ago had that been? Half an hour? An hour? Hours, plural? You couldn’t tell anymore. This game felt decades long yet you know you started it today. Or, was it really yesterday?

You reach forward and draw the bowl towards you, eliciting a tired pout from your boyfriend. “Well, you shouldn’t eat these either. We may need them.”

“And how could we do that, love?" Jay reaches to pick up the notebook and it flaps under its own weight as he lifts it into the air. “We’d need more money to upgrade any house or non-Cheez-It hotels, and we’ve already borrowed from an imaginary bank three times. Inflation is running rampant throughout this town. We’ve ruined the economy. We’re monsters.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jay shrugs, placing the paper bank back on the table before sniffling and wiping at his eyes again, this time with both hands. The ball cap he wears now sits askew on his head, and you, out of habit, reach forward to fix it, leaning against the table to help span the distance. Your fingers brush against the edge of the board, and the more you lean to reach across the table, the more you end up on top of the board. You’re out of your seat now, feet pressing on toes to get the height and length you need to reach to fix the hat.

And before you know it, you’re face to face and practically on the table. Jay leans forward and bumps his nose against yours while you adjust his hat. “We should stop,” he says plainly.

“Why? So you can win?” you mutter, half grumbling. One hand fixes his hat while the other acts as a brace against the table.

“No, so we can stop,” he says again, one hand reaching to rub simple patterns into the top of your hand. “The Cheez-Its will still be there in the morning. If we need it, Jake can bring his copy so we can have more actual cash to use.”

A quick hah escapes your lips. “You just want to win.”

“No, love, I just want to sleep.”

With his hat now fixed, you carefully lean back, peeling yourself off the table and into your seat. You’re silently thankful for the still intact Cheez-Its. Had they been crushed, you’re sure you’d given up, now feeling more tired than you were before your hat-fixing expedition—and that was already fairly tired. You’re about to refute his case, saying that the two of you should stick it out until the end, that surely it can’t be too much longer, when Jay takes his hat off—the one you so painfully just fixed—to run his hand through his hair before putting it back on, slightly crooked.

“Jay... I just... fixed... that.” You bite your lip, too tired to be angry out right but too tired to realize it also doesn’t matter.

“I know you did,” he replies, yawning into his sleeve. He begs again, a hint of desperation growing into his voice. “Can we please stop?”

You lean forward, resting your chin on the edge of the table and staring up at him from across the board. “Does this mean I win?”

“If you want to, love,” he says, scooting away from the table to stand, silently hoping his movement away from the game will pull you away as well. “If it means we can stop.”

A smile graces your lips as he walks around the table to your side. You take the hand he offers to help you up, holding tight. You pull his arm toward you, hugging it as you both shuffle forward into the darkness, the Monopoly board abandoned. “Thank you,” you say, stretching to place a kiss on his cheek.

“If it makes you happy, love,” Jay begins, his voice soft and tired, “I’d do just about anything.”

“Just about?” you tease, crawling up onto the bed and beneath the covers. “Meaning there’s things you wouldn’t do, hm?”

“Yes, just about,” he replies, mimicking your actions. Even half asleep, he still makes sure you’re tucked safely against his side, with his arm curled around your waist and your head resting on his chest. You hear his heartbeat, smooth and steady.  You wrap your arms around his own waist, a soft smile against your lips.

He continues, murmuring sleepily into your hair after a kiss to your temple. “Just about, because if you had asked me to continue playing with you I would have fallen asleep at that table.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” you whisper back, titling your head up to see him. Moonlight streams around the edge of your curtains, providing just enough light to see.

“I really wasn’t looking forward to waking up with Cheez-Its ingrained into my forehead,” he replies with a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t think the look’s for me.”

You laugh, snuggling in closer against his hoodie, and he laughs too. “I think you would have looked great,” you say against his collarbone, eyes finally lulling shut.

“Do you now, love?”

“Yeah, orange is really your color.”

You feel his arm leave your waist and a single finger place itself beneath your chin. You allow Jay to tilt your head up before you open your eyes. He levels you a stare long enough for you to think you’ve done something seriously wrong before a laugh makes its way out, and before you know it, he’s placing happy, smiley kisses across your cheeks, your nose. He stops before your lips. His eyes, even tired, are still starry and glittering. His voice has reverence when he speaks. “You know I love you with every fiber of my being, right?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I do.”

Jay bumps into your nose, hand playfully squeezing back at your waist. “That’s where you’re supposed to say I love you, too.”

You shake your head, fake-frowning. “But you haven’t kissed me yet?”

“Is that a suggestion or a demand?” he asks.

You shrug. “You choose.”

He leans forward, giving you the slightest, softest peck before pulling back.

You pout, chin tilting down. “You call that a kiss?”

“No,” he laughs, kissing the side of your cheek right beside your lips. “I just love your pout. I love everything about you.”

As he kisses the other cheek, just as close to your lips, you sigh. “I love you, too, Jay.”

And this time, he really does kiss you, although chaste and sleepy, but an honest kiss regardless. He tucks you back under his chin, wraps his arms around you so he knows you're safe. You’re nearly asleep when he finally replies, his own voice laced with sleep, and it’s enough to make you smile. Enough to know that he really would do just about anything for you. It makes you wrap your around him just a little tighter, make you smile just a little wider.

“I love you too.” That’s what you’d said. He says, in the darkness and honesty of your room, “I know.”

[animeomegas]

How would Shikamaru and his alpha react to finding out he’s pregnant again? Like they planned on one or two and already have three and now pregnant with a fourth because their birth control keeps failing. Especially if people think Shikamaru is doing it on purpose because of his obsession.

I have a feeling that this isn't what you had in mind lol, but here we are XD

cw: abortion

"It's positive?" you asked as Shikamaru came out of the bathroom, looking exhausted.

"Yep," he said, collapsing down on the sofa next to you with his eyes closed. You heard the muffled sounds of some sort of children's toy activating as he sat on it, but you both ignored it.

"Again?"

"Yep."

"Damn," you let out a breath and sank back into the couch until you were fully reclining just like your mate.

You both sat in silence for a while as the information sank in. You already had three children, an eight-year-old daughter, and two sons, five and three respectively. Your eldest was the only one you had planned.

"What are we going to do?" you asked finally. "We can afford it money wise, but we're spread thin as it is, another baby would-"

"Stop talking," Shikamaru said firmly, stopping you in your tracks. He opened his eyes and heaved himself upright. "If you speak about it out loud, my obsession instinct might...it might..."

"It might trigger and get weird like last time," you finished in sudden realisation, remembering the way Shikamaru had switched over night from booking an abortion to being distraught at the thought and refusing to follow through. "It hasn't triggered yet?"

"No," Shikamaru said calmly. "So, I'm going to fetch a clan medic right now, just for a 'routine health check', of course. Nothing else."

He was planning to trick himself into denial long enough to have an abortion. You shouldn't be so surprised by how intelligent your mate was after all these years, but you still found yourself impressed by his quick thinking.

"Right," you agreed. "Do you need me to come with?"

"No, it's just a routine health check, there's no need," he said, calmly getting up from the sofa and walking to the door. You followed him out and watched him slip on his shoes.

Everything was moving quickly, but you felt like the quickly forming burden had just been lifted from your shoulders. You simply didn't have the time and energy to give to another pup, it wouldn't be fair on anyone.

"And after my health check," Shikamaru continued, opening the door. "I am booking an appointment to have all my problematic organs removed."

That made a lot of sense. You had already been sterilised once but the surgery had reversed itself, something you only realised when Shikamaru already had the positive test in his hand. If he simply didn't have the necessary requirements for a baby, there would be no more babies. And maybe, just maybe, you'd finally have a form of birth control that actually worked.

"I'll watch the pups, and I'll be here when you get back," you promised, trying to reassure him as best as you could without mentioning anything specific.

Shikamaru nodded, took one final deep breath, and then stepped outside, shutting the door gently to avoid waking the two youngest pups up from their naps.

You stood for a moment, processing everything that had just happened, before a wave of determination washed over you. Your mate was going through something difficult that he had to do alone, so you would do everything in your power to make sure he came home to a clean house, delicious dinner, hot bath, and a massage.

You rolled up your sleeves, energised and ready to make the most of the remaining 20 minutes of nap time. It was time to clean like you'd never cleaned before.

[jimblejamblewritings]

the fake date plot | part. 8

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Warning for this chapter: smut

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

Heads turned when you and James walked into the Great Hall laughing as you held a bunch of stuff and he held ten times more in his arms than you did. It took a lot of convincing you but James Potter had money and liked to spend it. Your ideas of currency were very different and to him all this money was like spending only five galleons. So you let him get a bunch of stuff for your birthday. 

James was pleased with himself. Giving gifts to people made him feel so good inside. He hated receiving a bunch of them though, probably because he could have whatever he wanted without question. When you reached the table you set down everything and started laughing as you took the stuff from James so he could sit down as well. 

“Can you believe we both forgot our wands and we were already at Hogsmeade?” 

“That’s a lot of stuff,” Sirius said. 

“Yeah. I couldn’t get this one to stop so I now have a bunch of stuff. Thank Merlin I need it though.” 

Lily cleared her throat. “Are you coming to the party tonight? I mean it’s your birthday after all.” 

“I’m coming. No point in staying in my bed alone just because it’s my birthday.” You turned to look at James, pointing at him. “I do not need a new outfit.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, claiming that he wasn’t even thinking about making or buying you an outfit. For the rest of Saturday until the party, you didn’t see James at all. He and Sirius were leading quidditch drills in preparation for their upcoming game. Remus and Peter looked up when you entered their dorm. They were getting used to you just showing up. Remus was about to go back to looking at his scrapbooking project when you shoved an invitation in his face. 

“To Sir Peter and Sir Remus, the girls of dorm room nine would like to invite you to our getting ready event.” 

“Do you do this often?” 

You nodded. “Life’s more fun this way.” 

Without any hesitation, the two agreed to come with you. The girls’ dorm was arranged like theirs. But the decorations threw them for a loop. Bubbles, music, and a very sweet scent colored the air. When the marauders got ready for a party, the most they’d do is play music. This was basically a whole new world. They were pushed into fancy skincare and a scalding shower with water from the depths of hell. 

“Remus, how is your hair dry already? I wish I had your porosity.” 

“My what?” 

Mary laughed. “Porosity. It’s just your hair type, never mind. Are we all ready to go?” 

Your rather large group took your time heading down to the Slytherin dungeons. Even though you guys didn’t get along very well, Gryffindors and Slytherins were always invited to each other’s parties. The bass of the music could be heard from outside the common room. You couldn’t help but laugh at Regulus and Sirius already bickering, both with an empty cup in their hands. They had started making up but obviously it took some time and they were still brothers after all. Friendly bickering was in their dna. 

You spotted James on the couch… talking to Xeno. Taking in a deep breath, you went over anyway. Your boyfriend turned his head first, smiling as you came over. The blond boy next to him was slightly stunned. You wanted to adjust but chose not to. The literal climax of your plan was happening tonight and you still wanted it to feel as real as possible. James looked good sitting on the couch and everyone noticed as they snuck glances while doing their own thing. It was the color of a shirt peeking out under the rolled up sleeves of his quidditch jumper and the rips in his jeans. He has to do it on purpose and is aware of what he looks like. 

James extended an arm and his hand fell on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Hi, bug.” 

You sat on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder trying to ignore the piercing eyes from the boy you actually cared about. But you had to. Looking desperate for Xeno wasn’t the way to win him. James wrapped his arms around you while you held his drink for him, not bothering with getting one for yourself. 

“What up?” 

“Tired,” you said with a sigh. 

“You just got here.” 

That seemed to draw the attention of all your friends who were hoping you wouldn’t leave. Even if you were all doing your own thing separately, everyone still needed to be there. James covered your body as you wiggled around trying to get comfortable. Without a second thought, you pulled down the sleeves of his quidditch jumper. He laughed as he realized what you wanted. 

“I know but I was up really late and I kind of have a headache now.” 

“You do?” James asked in earnest. 

“A bit.” 

“You don’t have to stay. We can cancel all our plans tonight if you want to get some rest.” 

The tone of James’ voice made you look up at him. There was no playfulness in his eyes. He was very serious about everything. You gave him a smile. 

“I don’t want to cancel our plans. I’ll just take a nap here and then I’ll feel better.” 

“Okay. Accio, headphones.” 

James handed them to you. Music was already playing, at a very quiet volume, when you put them on. You figured they must have been connected to an enchanted music player. Adjusting yourself once more, you leaned back against your boyfriend with a smile and closed your eyes. Your friends swooned as you did so. In the middle of a loud and hectic scene, you were peaceful. 

James observed his talk with Xeno, trying not to be suspicious. Every so often, he would cast his eyes down to your sleeping form. He was still interested. He wouldn’t keep looking at you if he didn’t care at all. 

“Alright guys, I’ll see you back at Gryf,” James said as he got up and picked you up again. “I’m getting my lady to a bed and then we can keep the party going.” 

Since the younger kids were coming back to Slytherin from Hogsmeade to start their Halloween party, the older students were going to move to Gryffindor in about twenty minutes. They waved their goodbyes to James and promised to find him right away when the party moved upstairs. 

You woke up as James entered the common room and started towards the stairs back to his dorm. 

“Why do we always end up like this?” 

James looked down. “Hello, bug, how was your nap?” 

“Delightful. And I’m now very excited.” 

“Excited?” 

“Yes.” 

James wore a goofy grin as the two of you went inside the dorm. The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth and freshened up. Your favorite songs played while you shaved and James trimmed all his body hair low. You moved to the room without thinking. You both sat in the middle of his bed, now with an awkward silence. 

“Should we lay down and just let it happen naturally? No one else uses this enchanted muggle projector so the professor just lets us keep it. There are a good amount of movies here.” 

“Okay.” 

You and him got comfortable on the bed, cuddling ever so slightly. James’ left hand sat just under your breast as his thumb gently caressed what was beneath it. Your hand snaked down his body and took an experimental squeeze of his pants.

The movie went on without more touches until halfway through. You stiffened up before relaxing at the fingers going under the waistband of your panties. He turned your head to look at him. James watched with lust in his eyes as he watched his fingers pleasure you. It was all of five seconds before your lips crashed onto each other and you moved to the edge of the bed. 

Nearly all of the sixth and seventh and dreaded eighth years moved up to the party in Gryffindor. Not seeing James right away, the others decided to go looking. Remus squeaked and everyone else peeked into the crack in the door. James’ hands squeezed your ass before moving slowly up your body until they were underneath the jumper he made you, fingers trying to undo your bra. You both laughed as he struggled a bit. Eventually, the bra was off, leaving you in just your panties and sweater. 

“They’re looking. How long do you think before they close the door?” James whispered against your lips. 

“I give it two more minutes. Is it just the marauders?”  

“I can see Dorcas, Lily, and Xeno’s friends. The plan is going swimmingly.” He leaned back, not caring that the others could hear. “Hey, you know we don’t have to do this. It’s okay.” 

You leaned back and that made James move his hands from under your jumper. 

“Bug, I’m serious. I will not have sex with you unless you’re one hundred percent sure.” 

“I want to. I’m just nervous.” 

James chuckled. “Hey, I’m nervous too.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. Do you not believe me?” 

“You always seem so sure of yourself.” 

“Being sure of school or quidditch is a lot different from romance or sex. Let’s take it slow, okay?” 

“Okay… Can I take your shirt off?” 

“Yeah, love. Can I take off yours?” 

You nodded. The door slammed followed by someone yelling sorry the moment James started lifting the hem of your sweater. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh. Reassuring James now that everyone was gone that you actually did want this, you continued feeling up and down each other’s upper body. He groped at your boobs, running a thumb over your nipples. 

“These are gorgeous.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m serious. So fuckin gorgeous.” 

“James,” you moaned as he took one in his mouth. 

“Can I fuck you, love?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You scurried up onto the bed in the most undignified fashion, making James laugh. He followed suit. James groaned as he started to sink into you, pausing when your nails dug into his skin. “Are you okay?” 

“It’s just hurts a bit.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. Keep going.” 

He went slower, kissing you as he did to try and distract you. When he sunk in all the way, he checked in on you again. James waited for you to open your eyes. 

“We good?” 

“Yeah, please move.”

Your mouth dropped open as James started pumping. He smiled in satisfaction that you were feeling just as good as him. Maybe he knew what he was doing, just a little. You whimpered his name a little as you grabbed at his biceps. 

“You feel so good, Y/N. So warm and fit me just right.” 

He also felt warm inside you. He shouted your name before finishing inside you. The sheets stuck to your naked and sweaty bodies as you both tried to come down for your highs. James pulled you closer until you were on top of him. 

“That was amazing. I’m really glad we chose to do it with each other.” 

You pecked him on the lips. “I really enjoyed it… We should probably put on clothes before everyone comes in.” 

“We probably should. They’ll still be in your dorm. Do you want to join them after?”

You nodded your head as you got off the bed, James staring at your naked body. He grabbed your hand and pulled himself out of the sheets. The two of you stood side by side, comfortably naked, as you brushed your teeth and washed your face before getting in the shower together. James added a warming spell to the pile of freshly done laundry so you could have your pick of warm clothes. 

“Is it bad that I want to just stay here? Round two maybe.” James’ words were muffled as he put on a t-shirt and a jumper. 

You laughed. “Plenty of time for that later, pretty boy. Let’s go see our friends.”

(part 9)

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[tavolgisvist]

Allen Klein is a businessman. He has had dealings with a guy called Tony Calder who worked as a partner for Andrew Oldham. The three of them managed the affairs of the Rolling Stones. Oldham & Calder left the Stones scene, but Klein stayed. … Tony has something on his mind that is why he is taking me to work in his Morgan. He says: ‘Allen Klein says you are in his way. Allen says you are blocking him from meeting the Beatles and doing business with them.’ I am amazed. I say, ‘I never give Allen Klein a thought from one year to the next. What is the guy talking about, me being in his way?’ … So I tell Tony if Klein thinks I am in his way, and as I’m not in his way, I’d better show the guy I’m not, by moving out of the way anyone else who might be in his way. I tell Tony to tell Klein I am (a) not in his way, and (b) if anyon I tell Tony to tell Klein to call. I go into work at Apple and I see Peter Brown, Brian’s old pal, mine, the Beatles, Apple’s and so on. Peter knows many things. I say, ‘Allen Klein wants to meet the Beatles.’ ‘Does he ever,’ says Peter. I ask: ‘Is there anyone in his way?’ Peter says, ‘Only the Beatles.’ He explains Brian didn’t like Klein and the Beatles had never heard anything about him that attracted them either. … I say there is this guy Klein who badly wants to see them. John says yeah, Klein’s been trying to reach him but he won’t take the call. I do some hype for Klein and say he is a strange cat, hated by some of the people who met him and also by some of the people who have only heard of him. George says, ‘he sounds really nice’, and I say that if they want someone to run their money scene then Klein may be the man. But I also say they had better look at him very hard and ask around Jagger and Donovan and the others he handles. I mean really check Klein out. But see him too. See him face to face. John says OK, I’ll see him and the others rhubarb a bit and that’s the lunch over. I call Les Perrin and tell him tell Klein to call and Klein does and then he flies over really fast, like yesterday. He meets John, they talk all night and boy do they dig each other. John comes into the office and says, ‘Don’t care about the others, don’t give a shit … but I’m having Klein, he can have all of my stuff and get it sorted out.’ John says there is too much fear around, everyone must stop being frightened, everything is going to be fantastic, like Klein is going to be the genie of the lamp. Paul, George and Ringo get to meet Klein and he begins to act as if he is half-hired but maybe not. He says he will save Northern Songs from the wicked Lew Grade. He says he will buy NEMS Enterprises. He says he will take EMI to the cleaners. In the end he doesn’t save Northern Songs and he doesn’t buy NEMS Enterprises, but takes EMI and Capitol to the cleaners and to hell and back… …

It is 1970. Paul still doesn’t like Klein but John digs him more than ever and George digs him more than that and Ringo doesn’t mind him. Paul? He is so uptight about Klein he only leaves the Beatles, that’s all. Klein and me meet the press and TV and all that; together we sit on a sofa and talk about Paul. Mr Klein, why doesn’t Paul like you? Mr Taylor, why doesn’t Paul like Mr Klein? I don’t know, don’t ask me, man, don’t ask me. Paul releases his album and Klein releases the Beatles’ album and they both make a million and Klein has had Phil Spector remix Paul’s song ‘The Long and Winding Road’, adding a women’s choir and some violins etc. Paul thinks this is the shittiest thing anyone has ever done to him and that is saying something, but Klein laughs up his silk sleeve and releases ‘Long and Winding Road’ as a single anyway and still with Phil’s new arrangement. Up there in Scotland, Paul McCartney, one of the four owners of Apple, the company formed to give total freedom, artistic control, to struggling performers and writers, wonders what went wrong, when even he can’t control his own work. I am wondering too. Everyone is wondering. But Klein isn’t wondering. He knows, he knows. …

Money is pouring into Apple so I guess you could say that Allen Klein straightened Apple out as the Beatles wanted it. The only thing is … where is Apple and where are the Beatles? If you find out, please let me know, I haven’t seen them in a long time. The way I see it, Klein is really bringing a whole lot of people down, including me sometimes and I have a deal which keeps me at home writing stuff like this so what am I whining about? Well, being as how I brought Klein to Apple, by making sure the way was clear, I owe someone, somewhere something, that’s for sure. What is it and what have I done? Our Apple is all chewed up. It is the most ungroovy place I ever knew and I have to say it, we have all let it happen, all of us, but me, I told Tony Calder to tell Klein to call and if I am going to make any more mistakes about Allen Klein, then let it be writing this, let it be.

(Derek Taylor, As Time Goes By, 1973)

(Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI)

[thatwriterchaotic]

Here it is. My first ever smut with none other than Daryl Dixon. For celebrating 100 followers, this is a gift from me to you. I hope you enjoy it. It is so damn long.

What Are We?...

Summary: Daryl had always been slow and careful with your relationship. Always wanting to treat you right. Make you the happiest person on the planet. But he also kept thinking about you in other ways. Maybe it was time to be a little bit more intimate with you.

Pairing: Pre apocalypse!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: [18+], first time together, soft!daryl, man handling, fingering, oral, some hair pulling just very smutty jesus- be nice it's my first time writing like this 😂 this is honestly the longest thing I have written.

The first time Daryl laid his eyes on you was when you brought your car in. You needed your breaks checked and something was wrong with the engine. Daryl only had this mechanic job was because of Merle. Even though it wasn't Daryl's favorite thing to do. He had to make money some how. Damn idiot got himself back into jail again for another bar fight.

Daryl was distracted by you the whole time as he fixed your car. Just something about you had him mesmerized. The next time he saw you was at his friend Maggie's house party. Daryl only agreed to go because Glenn wouldn't stop bothering him. Not wanting to be the only guy at that party. Which wasn't true at all. He had gotten your name and number at that party.

You two had gone on several dates after that. Enjoying spending time with the other. Daryl would tell you about his days and the cars he fixed. You tried to following along as best you could with what little knowledge you had. Happy to see him open up and talk about the things he liked. You would respond back and talk about the things you liked, bonding over your similarities.

You both mostly kept to yourself. Not wanting to go out and do extravagant things. You both where the happiest staying inside. Watching movies together, cuddled up on Daryl's couch. His arms wrapped around your body. You always felt so safe with him around. Laying on top of him. Your head laying on his chest. Feeling his hand move up to play with your hair.

If you could stay like this all the time you would. But you both also enjoyed going out on rides on Daryl's motorcycle. Daryl loved the feeling of you sitting behind him. Arms wrapped around his torso like he was your life line. Nothing could separate the two of you. Always wanting to be together.

But Daryl secretly wanted to go further with you. Craving the feeling of your touch. The feeling of your skin against his. But he didn't want to cross a line if you weren't ready for it. Daryl was always very respectful towards you. Unlike his brother. He adored and loved everything about you. But what he didn't know was that you craved him too. Always catching him staring at you in that almost mischievous way. His bottom lip in between his teeth. That hungry stare in those dark blue eyes. Oh you thought it was the sexiest thing ever. Especially when he had his sleeves rolled up, showing off his forearms. A few buttons undone at the top of his button up, showing just a little bit of chest hair.

Feeling Daryl move under you made you jump out of your thoughts. Glancing up at him, smiling softly. “Need me to move?” You asked wanting Daryl to be as comfortable as possible. Daryl shoke his head. “Nah, yer alright sweetheart. Just stay like that, all pretty for me” Daryl said sweetly to you brushing your hair out of your face. You felt yourself flush. Your man was such a flirt. Making yourself feel weak in the knees almost everyday. You smiled softly and leaned up to peck his lips

Feeling him kiss you back, with his soft lips. You loved the feeling of being so close to him. He radiated warmth and comfort. But it was only when you where alone together. Out in public, you mostly just held hands and light kisses. You understood that Daryl was more shy about it. And that's okay, whatever made your man comfortable and happy. You would wait for him no matter how long it took.

That's when you felt his hands go a little lower. The kiss turning more intimate. His tongue slipping into your mouth. Your hands starting to wonder as well. Moving from his stomach and up towards his chest. And finally towards those brawd shoulders, you loved so much. Gripping onto his shirt. Wanting to be even closer to him. Daryl eventually sat up again, you sitting down in his lap. Legs wrapped around his waist. Holding you so close, your chests touching each other.

Having to break for air, you slowly pulled away from Daryl's intense kissing. Stopping him before he leaned in for more. Having this adorable pout on his lips. “Did I do something wrong?” Daryl asked you with a concerned look in his eyes. You smiled and cupped his cheek. “No no you didn't do anything wrong, just- What are we Daryl?” You asked him looking into his eyes. Hoping you didn't scare him off for asking. “What ya mean? Yer my woman” Daryl said softly to you taking your hand and placed soft kisses on your palm.

You thought it was sweet, hearing him call you his. But you pulled your hand away. “Seriously Daryl, what are we? Am I really your woman if you can't even kiss me infront of our friends?” You said pushing this a little further. Wanting an answer from him. Daryl sighed softly and took your hands in his. “Alright, alright” He started looking into your eyes. A serious look on his face.

“I get nervous when we are out in public. You know how much I respect ya. Always wanting to make sure yer happy. I never want to over step or rush us into anything. I want us both to feel comfortable. Look I promise I'll start be more affectionate towards ya. Since I haven't been able to get you outta my head” Daryl said to you. Noticing his lip going in between his teeth. Gently biting down on his bottom lip. Oh, he was thinking of you. In all kinds of ways.

Feeling a bit flustered from Daryl's confession, you took your hand and caressed his jaw. Going down his neck and to the front of his chest. Fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Popping open the first two buttons. “You've been thinking about me?” You asked so innocently looking up at your man.

Daryl nodded and leaned closer towards you. Your noses almost touching.

“I think about you every night. The feeling of your skin against mine-” Daryl moved his hands to your waist, sliding you over to one of his legs. “How soft it feels against my calloused fingers, the sweet noises I could pull from you just from my touch” He guided you to start slowly grinding down on his thigh. Your hips going back and forth in a slow rhythm, making the most amazing friction between your legs.

You grabbed onto his shoulders for stability as you rocked on his thigh. God hearing him talk like that and the way your jeans rubbed up against your clit. It felt like heaven. You whimpered softly and never looked away from Daryl. Stuck in a trance from how good he was making you feel. “Ya like that sweetheart? Huh? Ya like how it feels to grind on my thigh” Daryl said to you pulling you in even closer. His hands never left your hips. Encouraging you to move them faster.

“F-Fuck Daryl, feels so good” You managed to whimper out. Speeding up the pace of your hips slightly. Daryl smirked and kissed your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. You whined and wrapped your arms around his neck. Loving all the attention he was giving to you. He moved one of his hands from your hip and to the front of your jeans. “I'm gonna touch ya now, is that alright?” Daryl asked you first before popping open the button on your jeans. You quickly nodded your head yes. You felt his hand slowly slide down into your jeans and under your underwear.

You gasped when he gently touched your clit with his fingers. Circling it in just the perfect way. You kept rocking your hips against his thigh. Loving the combination between the two. You moaned and reached up, your fingers going through Daryl's short brown hair. Pushing him further into your neck. Daryl left several marks on your neck, claim you as his and no one else's. “Yer doing so well for me sweetheart, prettiest thing I've ever seen” He grunted as he decided to push you back against the couch. You whined when he took his hand away from you. “Don't whine now babygirl, I'll take care of you. Just gotta get undressed first” Daryl said softly to you.

Between harsh kisses, Daryl managed to get your pants off. Along with his shirt that you demanded he take off. Wanting to see more of his chest. That left you in your shirt and panties. It was a normal pair, just a lacey black thong. But Daryl loved it. He thought you looked sexy as hell. He got on top of you. Reconnecting your lips again with another passionate kiss.

You cupped his face and kissed him back. His tongue shoving into your mouth. But eventually he made his way down your body. Leaving trails of kisses down your stomach, to your thigh. Getting right in between your legs. Daryl propped your legs on his shoulders as he kissed your thighs. Leaving soft bite marks and hickeys that would definitely stay until morning. Until he got right where he wanted to be.”Tell me what you want me to do sweetheart, want me to eat this pussy huh? So wet for me aren't you” Daryl said looking up at you. His pupils where blown wide with lust.

You blushed and looked down at Daryl, loving the way he looked between your legs. “Please Daryl.. Please I want you so badly” you begged for him. Daryl slid your thong to the side and swiped his tongue from your slit up to your clit. Making a electrifying feeling shoot up your spine. You moaned and arched your back, Daryl's hold on your hips not letting you go anywhere. Your hands instantly going to his hair gently pulling his hair making him grunt into your pussy.

God he was really good at this. You couldn't stop moaning his name over and over again. He slurped at your clit flicking his tongue back and forth. That's when Daryl moved his hand down and slowly slipped his finger into you. Curling it just right. “Such a needy little thing for me, making such a mess” Daryl grunted as he kept going, loving the noises you made. Soon he slipped in another finger into you. Moving them at the same pace as his tongue. You felt a tight sensation start to build in your stomach. You tried to warn Daryl but it felt too good. Not wanting him to stop pleasuring you. You felt the snap in your abdomen, feeling yourself come undone. You moaned Daryl's name loudly tugging at his hair. Daryl continued, helping you ride out your high.

Panting heavily you laid back down on the couch. Trying to catch your breath from that intense orgasm. Daryl had a huge grin on his face. He gently laid your legs down and sat up. Licking his lips, he slipped his two fingers into his mouth sucking them clean. “You taste so sweet sweetheart, gonna make me want to stay in between your legs forever” Daryl said as he looked at you. Your hair was a mess and you had a coat of sweat cling to your body. Daryl gently rubbed your leg and fixed your panties.

“Just relax for me baby, we can go get cleaned up in a bit okay” Daryl said softly. Always wanting to take care of you. You noticed his jeans look rather tight. Wanting to help him feel good too. “But what about you love? Let me take care of you” You said almost begging him. He shook his head and smirked. “We can have round two in the shower just rest” He said as he laid down on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist. You gently ran your hands through his hair. God you where so lucky to have this man in your life.