#yeah the issue on her stomach. she did it to herself. she just does that a lot

[geddy-leesbian]

she's on my legs seeing demons. I am going to die tonight

also her in my bed last night:

[hazbinwhoree]

ADAM WITH A HEAVY BREEDING KINK WHEN???

Come Inside

Part 1/2 Part 2

A/N: This shit is absolutely sinful.

Adam’s breeding kink, much like his virginity kink, was rooted in his abandonment issues.

Normally, (Name) would feel a need to address that (therapy friend), but she couldn’t really care when he was inside of her, fucking her like he hated her.

Adam’s sex drive never failed to impress her. They’d already had sex that morning, and they were just watching a movie when suddenly he was on her again.

“Adam,” she giggled as he sucked on her neck. “We literally had sex two hours ago.”

“Not my fault you’re so fuckin’ sexy, babe,” Adam said against her neck. He continued marking her, one hand slipping under her shirt and fondling her breast, and one hand travelling down to rub between her legs over her sweatpants.

(Name) moaned. Adam removed his face from her neck and connected their lips in a passionate kiss. (Name) slipped her fingers under the base of Adam’s mask and pulled back. She looked at him, the question in her eyes. Can I? Adam nodded after a moment.

(Name) pulled his mask up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. (Name) smiled, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head forward to kiss him again. Adam kissed back with vigor, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

The hand fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and the hand that was rubbing between her legs suddenly slipped under her sweatpants and panties.

(Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam licked down the column of her neck. He slid two slender fingers into her, and (Name)’s breathing became heavier. He scissored his fingers experimentally before adding a third.

(Name) sighed, her head falling forward and resting her forehead against Adam’s.

Adam didn’t spend long loosening her up before shedding his own pants and boxers. (Name) began to tug her sweatpants down until Adam got impatient and yanked both her sweatpants and panties down to her ankles. (Name) kicked them off.

Adam sat down on the couch, manspreading and showing off his dick. “Come here, baby,” he patted his lap. (Name) crawled over and into his lap, his erection pressing against her pussy. She briefly realized they both still had their shirts on.

Adam seemed to realize it too. “We’re fucking like Winnie the Pooh.”

(Name) giggled, but it quickly became a quiet moan when Adam squeezed her tits, swiping his thumbs over her nipples. She ground down against his dick and they both moaned. She raised herself on her knees to allow Adam to line himself up with her opening.

Once he did, she sank down, letting out a gasp as he stretched her once again. “Ride it,” Adam demands, grabbing her ass. (Name) did, for about a minute, before her pace slowed down as her legs got tired. Adam got impatient, squeezing her ass and thrusting up into her, fast and hard.

It caught (Name) off guard, who cried out. She held onto his shoulders like her life depended on it, as Adam fucked her like he was mad at her.

So was his pace usually.

Tears brimmed at the corners of (Name)’s eyes. “Fuck,” she hissed. Adam stared at her intently. “Yeah? Does this feel good, babygirl?” (Name) whined. She loved when Adam talked during sex, he was always so dirty.

“Is my cock filling your pussy just right? God you’re so hot, you make me want to put a baby in you.” (Name) gasped, nearly reaching her peak. “Gonna cum so deep inside you.”

(Name) came, clenching around Adam’s dick. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him, the tightness pushing him over the edge. He snapped his hips upwards, burying himself to the hilt, and came inside of her.

(Name)’s stomach grew warm. She panted, moving to get off of Adam, but he grabbed her hips and pushed her back down on his dick. (Name) let out a strangled moan, overstimulated. Adam held her in his lap, keeping her plugged with his cock.

“Can’t waste any of my cum,” he told her, smirking. “I was serious. I’m gonna put a fucking baby in you.”

[simplyzeeka]

Note: This is my first fanfic ever. With the way I've been earing these Terry Richmond fanfics up? This was bound to happen!

Warnings: MDNI!! Ts is nasty, Terry is nasty. Slighttt humiliation, slighttt choking, oral (f recieving), p in v... and just Terry Richmond y'all

Pairing: Doppleganger!Terry x black fem character (Drea)

Summary: With the rising population of doppleganger attacks in Yohnville, Drea is a little past worried when her boyfriend Terry doesn't make it home on time.

Do not repost, re-upload, steal or copy my work!!!

Doppled Distractions

“There have been three more reported deaths tonight, the cause seemingly being caused by the increasing population of doppelgangers in the town. Investigators and officers urge civilians to stay indoors and ensure all possible entrances are barricaded. The town's mayor is said to address this issue tomorrow morning.”

Drea shut the TV off, having heard enough that it caused exaggerated ringing in her ear. Her leg bounced up and down, her head in her hands while constantly looking towards the door.

Terry forgot his key before leaving for work, and while Drea usually does leave the door unlocked, however, there is a growing discomfort in doing that today especially after watching the news report. She was also worried about her boyfriend, the time was going on 11pm and he still wasn't back. Terry was never late.

“Where the hell are you, Terry?” She whispers to herself, her attention darting between the clock above the TV and the door. Contemplating on whether she should leave the door unlocked for him.

She's startled out of her thoughts by a pitched sound coming from her phone, one that has her running to find it, in hopes that it was Terry texting her, telling her he was on the way, that he was safe. Only to be disappointed to see it was a dumb Instagram notification. Who the fuck would be posting at this damn time, was unbeknownst to her, but she didn't do the honors to check, to frustrated at the situation in hand.

Drea opts for leaving the door unlocked, then retreats to their room where she got into bed and prayed that he would come back to her, in one piece.

The silent ‘click’ of the door was unheard by Drea as she was in deep slumber. Slow steps creak on the loose planks Terry had said he would fix but always forgot about.

With long legs, it didn't take long for him to reach the bedroom, the whirring of the ceiling fan drowned out Drea's soft snores. It was summertime in Yohnville, and the heat was so unbearable that cool night breezes did nothing to ease it.

Drea had long kicked the covers off of her, exposing the smooth skin of her thighs, arms and chest. A loose, lilac coloured silk nightgown was now bunched up around her waist as she layed on her stomach. Head covered in a bonnet since she got her braids done recently, Terry always loved her in braids.

She stirs at the feel of cold hands gliding up her legs followed by a dip of the bed. “Baby.” a gruff voice eases her out of her deep slumber although everything else was still a bit jumbled. He was back, and in one piece.

“T? That you?” She asked, although she already knew it was, could tell by how good he always smelled, like old wood and a hint of something sweet. Drea would often tell him that he smells like obsession.

“Yeah, sorry for coming back so late. There was a problem at the workshop.” He roughly responds, sounding exhausted almost. Drea sighs when the cold tip of his nose runs along her shoulder, to the length of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating fresh scent Drea naturally had.

“You could've texted me, or atleast called, T.” Drea sleepily complains, still a little out of it and his presence always left her a little dizzy, that scent.

“Hmm, I'm sure he's sorry baby.” Terry mumbles in the shell of her ear. The statement had Drea frowning, before she flips on her side and faces him. Gorgeous eyes, the prettiest she's ever seen. Fresh fade, neatly trimmed goatee and plump, thick lips. Definitely her Terry. “Huh?” She whispers for him to repeat, she must've still been sleepy.

“I said I'm very sorry mama.” He smiles, before pressing a soft peck on her lips. Drea hums at the contact and chases his lips when he pulls away, which has him chuckling. “Mhm, had me worried. You watch the news?” Drea smiles as she glides her fingers across his thick eyebrows. Damn he was so pretty, fine, handsome. All the words in the book.

“Don't worry ‘bout that, I'm here now.” Terry responds before softly flipping her on her back, hands running up the skin of her waist, raising her nightgown higher, to where it now ruffled around her chest.

Flimsy lace panties she had on, barely leaving much to the imagination, a wet patch right in the middle of them that the darkness of the room couldn't even hide. Terry always had her like that, looking at him was enough to have her wet and wanting.

“And I'm hungry as fuck, mama.” He adds, his fingers dancing under the bands of the thin material. Slowly, he pulls the garment down her thighs, his eyes trailing up the length of her body until they reach her eyes.

“You gon’ feed me baby?” He asks, taunting really as he tilts his head. Her panties now settled at her ankles. Drea pulls a foot out of one loop, her throat dry and her eyes hazed. “Only if you got the appetite.” She doesn't back down, because one thing Terry loved the most, is when she went band for band with him.

The laugh he lets out is an amused one. “Always got the appetite.” He mumbles before laying on his stomach and throwing her legs over his shoulders. He held her thighs to the side of his face, blowing on her sensitive bud as one would to a hot plate of food.

It was how he left soft pecks around her fluttering lips, purposefully missing the spots she wanted him most. Drea leans on her elbows so she could watch him, her head shaking at his teasing. “Don't play that today.” She orders softly, because why would you ask for food then play around it, he had better manners than that… Well Terry did at least.

He laughs, looks straight at Drea when he licks one, long stripe from her leaking hole to her now engorged clit. Drea shudders, the heat of his tongue being a large contract to the wind from the fan. She cages her bottom lip between her teeth, eye contact maintained as her hand brushes over his fade. “Mhm, keep goin’.” She urges softly, and by the look on her face, why wouldn't he be happy to oblige.

He ate her slowly at first, drawing out the softest of whimpers and the most enticing of moans. Slurping up the essence she so kindly lifted him. Drea tries to bury his face deeper into her pussy, but he smacks away her hand and hums in refusal. “You take what you get.” He mutters before diving right in.

And take she did, take she had no choice but to do, especially when he had her stomach laid on a pillow, legs bent and parted as he takes all that he needs.

“Shiiitt, I'm- fuckk I'm gonna cum.” Drea mewls as he drills into her relentlessly. Her jaw falls slack, the way his dick dug out her pussy had her eyes crossing in need. Something was different, yes sex with Terry always left her dumb, but something about the way he was fucking her now was carnal. He was fucking like he hated her, but the way he talked her through it? Yeah, something was definitely different.

“Yeah? All on this dick mama? What you waitin’ on, hmm? Let it go, just like that, cum on your dick.” He coaches her into it, commanding her nut out of her as he skillfully strokes into her, hands on her hips, forcing her to stay still because he didn't want her running, just wanted her to take.

Drea claws at the sheets in front of her, threatening to pull them completely off from the corners. “Oouu fuck! Right there, fuck you so deep, T.”

He kept jabbing at this new spot, one she didn't even know she had. Everything felt different, yet so good because Drea has never felt dick like this.

“Mhm, right where I'm ‘sposed to me. Gripping my shit so good, you were made for me, weren't you? Just for me, look at you. Pretty baby.”

Because how was Drea supposed to keep breathing when he spoke like that? She was already crazy enough about Terry, but after this? This will have her world fucked about him.

“Breathe mama, breathe through it. Can't be that dick dumb, baby. Tighten up.” He moans too. He's never been this… condescending, but fuck if it didn't make Drea cream all around him, that sentence sent her over the edge, “Fuckkk, I'm cummin’.”

He fucks her through it, had no choice but to with the way Drea gripped his dick. “Flip over, I wanna see your face.” He orders, slipping out of her. His mouth watering at the sight of her own nut dripping out of her.

Drea follows the order, flipping over her back, her head thrown back in exhaustion. He holds her legs up, pushing them to her chest and sliding his dick right back into her. “Oouu shittt, wait wait wait.” Drea whines as she places her hand on his stomach to deter his movements.

Was he thicker? Longer? Because fuck it felt like he was impaling her, his dick had her stuffed. The stretch felt so much more intense than usual, his dick was carving her pussy to fit him specifically, Drea was sure no one would compare to this.

“Move your hand and hold your legs.” He orders lowly, trying to get used to the tightness of her walls himself. Drea sucked his dick in as he slowly adjusted. She followed his order, as usual and held the back of her thighs while his hand sneaks to her neck, wrapping around before making her fuck him back.

“You feel me baby?” He asks while looking down at her. “Yess, yes I do baby.” She couldn't help but to moan out loudly, he rubbed past her spot so deliciously that giving him pussy wasn't nearly enough for gratitude. “Where you feel me at baby? Right here?” He taunts, his thumb pressing down on her stomach with every thrust and that had her instantly creaming.

Unable to speak, she nods her head as her eyes cross over. “Stop playin’ and use your words.”

Drea looks up at him with furrowed brows, his eyes looked so damn good. She loved his eyes, such a pretty colour. Still she shakes her head, he was balls deep inside her, taking her soul with every thrust and he expected her to be able to speak?

“You don't listen D. But it's okay baby, don't worry. We gon’ get you right.” He says before picking up the pace gaze stuck on hers. He moves his hand from her neck and holds her hips instead, bringing her onto his dick.

Drea closes her eyes and lets her head fall back onto the messy sheets. “Fuckkk. Oh my fuckin’- ung.” She gasps between short breaths.

By now there were tears falling down the side of her face. “That's right, look at how you gushin’. She love me, don't she?” His thumb grazes her clit before intentionally rubbing figure eights of the swollen bud. Drea nods and whispers out the softest of ‘yeses’ her throat allowed her to. “I know she do, baby. I know.” He coos at her with furrowed brows.

Drea's pussy was magical, would have anyone crazy about her just from the sight alone. Right now, he had to hold off from coming so many times, because her faces were worth it, the sounds she made. All of it was worth watching.

He slows down for a moment, tucks his arms under her legs and holds her waist tightly before pulling her up to his chest. The squeal she let out from the sudden movement had him laughing.

The pace starts up again and he musters all the strength he has to bounce her on his dick in a steady pace. With her bonnet long gone on the floor, Drea throws her head back, her hands around his neck.

“Fuck fuck fuckkk, I can't.” She shakes her head. Terry nods his head, his bottom lip between his teeth as he looks at her. “Yes you can mama, you doin’ so good. Takin’ this dick like a big girl. I see you big girl.” He praises, “Look at me baby, hmm. Please look at me.”

And she obliged, again, because he was fucking her so good, so so good that it's bloomed something more in her heart. Not only did his dick impale itself in her pussy but also in her soul. He was there for life now.

“There she is, pretty baby. You gon’ cum with me? Cum with your dick mama. I'm bout to nut, fill you with this shit. Cause it's yours, you hear me?”

Drea nods, “Fuckk, I hear you T, I hear youuu.”

“Fuckk, I'm close. Gon’ head and let it go baby. There you go. Good fucking pussy.” He says as he feels her wet him up, and he follows right after.

Painting her walls white as she squirts on his lap. Terry fucks his nut into her, engraving it in her pussy, because that's precisely where it belonged. “Good girl, you did so good. Easy baby.”

Drea had her head on his shoulder. Fucked out and tired. Her braids curtain her face as she tries to catch her breath. “You had a bad day at work or something?” She asks quietly with a laugh.

Terry laughs and shakes his head. “Somethin’ like that.” He responds and Drea hums. Sighing softly as he settles her down on her back on the bed. They would have to change the sheets before going back to sleep.

“Should have more bad days, cause what the fuck?” She whispers, causing him to laugh as he walks towards the bathroom and comes back after a while. “C’mon, bath time.” He mumbles as he picks her up again. “Sir, yes Sir.” Drea sighs as she allows herself to be carried.

What a shame she didn't notice his ink free skin, cause maybe then Drea would have seen that her Terry didn't make it home tonight.

Note: Maybe I went a bit overboard. A little messy but this is my first time so... idk chile. A little something for spooky month, hope you enjoyed🎃🎃🎃

[kesujo]

Chapter 8: The Game - Part 2

Previous part here.

It felt strange, allowing himself to unabashedly look at Jessica’s exposed romp shaking happily in front of the sink as she washed the dishes. Parker had to remind himself that he didn’t have a moral obligation to look away, that Jessica imposed this punishment onto herself in part to allow Parker to enjoy this sight, and that this was also a punishment to himself for blowing up and yelling at Jessica the other day.

Still, some part in his brain had already labeled Jessica as Hunter’s. Which was perhaps one of the reasons why Parker was so hesitant to take advantage of his reward for winning the game they played while eating dinner.

“Like what you see?”

Jessica’s sly remark and suggestive smirk didn’t help either. On top of the lingering guilt that Parker had built up from … well, being a normal person, as he liked to believe that normal people had issue fucking the spouse of a best friend, there was also a feeling of defeat that Jessica’s confident expression instilled in him. “Yeah, your butt is pretty sexy.” He tried not to let the childish stubbornness affect him, out of a perhaps even greater childish stubbornness to appear unphased by the show she was putting on for him.

“Then why are you just sitting there? Why don’t you come over here and take advantage of this ‘sexy butt’?” Jessica asked, leaning forward to push her hips further backwards, accentuating the shapely figure of her butt.

Parker scoffed in turn. “How the hell would you finish the dishes if I did that?”

Jessica shrugged. “That would be my problem to deal with. Aren’t you going to use your reward?”

“I will, just not while you’re preoccupied.”

“The only thing that’s preoccupying me is how offensive it is to me that you’re not jumping at the opportunity to use your reward.” Parker chuckled at the sheer absurdity of the notion, although maybe he should’ve expected as much since this was par for the course for Jessica. “If I won, I would have you deep inside my pussy while you wash the dishes, and maybe you could use my tits as a soap sponge and rub the dirty dishes against them to clean them.”

Jessica’s creativity when it came to these types of things never ceased to amaze him. “…That doesn’t sound very sanitary.”

Jessica giggled, turning back towards the sink. “Maybe not, but it sounds pretty hot, doesn’t it?”

As ridiculous, as outlandish the idea was, Parker had to admit that it did in fact sound pretty hot. However, the admission wasn’t something Parker was ready to give her. “Well, thanks for the suggestion I guess, but we should at least wait until we finish digesting or else the sex won’t even be that good.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“…Wait, you mean you haven’t noticed?” Jessica shook her head, face still turned away from him. “Well, I mean, when you’re digesting food, your body directs your blood to your stomach and intestines, meaning there’s less blood for the rest of your body. And that translates to, as you can imagine, reduced sexual performance.”

“Oh, now that you mention it … Hunter does seem to always need a bit more coaxing after—”

“Right, I don’t need to hear the intricate details of how you get my best friend hard.”

Jessica laughed at that. “Why not? After this little competition between Hunter and me is over, if we were to have threesomes, you’ll need to get accustomed to your best friend’s dick. That is, if you’re down for it, although I personally really hope that you are because the idea of getting spitroasted by you and Hunter…” Jessica let the sentence trail off there, although Parker could guess what the rest of the sentence was from the slight shudder that ran up Jessica’s body and the single sliver of her translucent bodily fluid running down her leg.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that…” The idea of a threesome was definitely too crazy for him, especially given how he was still struggling with being OK with having sex with a wedded woman, “…but we’ll have to see in the future I guess.”

“Ooh, great! Now I have extra incentive to find Hunter’s partner!”

“What about ‘I don’t know about that’ did you not understand?”

“But you’ll consider it!”

“I—” Parker stammered, stunned by the sudden burst of excited energy Jessica was exuding, “—um, yeah, I guess? But—”

“That’s all I need! Think about it, and if you want, you can bring a girl yourself, or even a future girlfriend if she’s open to the idea, and we can all have fun together!”

Why did he get pulled into his? Parker was perfectly fine with his albeit rather mundane life he was living, working on the indie game he was making good progress on alongside his decently interesting job that paid the bills well enough such that he could spoil himself quite frequently, going out on the weekends occasionally and even more occasionally having perfectly vanilla sex with women he met at bars or through dating apps, going out with friends to enjoying golfing or bar-hopping or whatever it was they wanted to do together … but ever since Jessica inserted herself into his life, that comfortable rhythm he got into had fallen off-beat. The thing was, Parker couldn’t tell whether or not this newer, Jessica-filled life was more preferable given recent developments. For better or worse, one thing was for sure: boredom, normalcy, consistency, these were all no longer part of the equation.

“You’re thinking too far into the future. Right now, you need to worry about those dishes—”

“—that I just finished,” the bottomless woman announced, placing the last cup into the dish drainer and turning around to face him. “Now—”

“You have Netflix, right?”

“…Yeah…?”

“There’s this movie that I wanna watch, so let’s do that first.”

“…Really?”

“I’ve been meaning to watch this movie but never had the time to, but now that I have nothing else to do, might as well, you know?” Seeing Jessica’s dumbfounded, almost indignant reaction, Parker continued, “Oh, did you watch this movie already?”

“No, but … really? ‘Nothing else to do’? What about me?”

“Well, if you wanted to get straight into fucking, you should’ve just won the game,” he shot back, smirking.

Jessica placed her hands on her hips, gaping at him. “I—you win one time and you get this cocky?”

Parker shrugged. “This is the first time I beat you, so let me revel in this a little bit, even if you did let met win.”

“Fine,” she replied, “but for the record, I did not let you win. I just got so excited you agreed to continue participating in the game between Hunter and me that I failed to be diligent while outlining the rules of the game.”

When Parker seated himself on the couch, Jessica tried to seat herself on his lap but was quickly stopped by him. “What are you doing?”

“What?” Jessica asked, head turned around, a shocked expression on her face. “Isn’t this what you intended?”

Parker couldn’t tell if Jessica was genuinely shocked or just playing it up to mask her desires. “I—no, I really just wanted to watch the movie.”

She frowned but obeyed nonetheless, seating herself next to him. As Parker entered the movie’s name into the search bar, Jessica leaned against him, planting her head on his shoulder. He froze for a brief second, offput by the sudden display of affection from Jessica, but continued shortly after, following Jessica’s footsteps in pretending like this wasn’t out of the ordinary for the two. “This is nice, enjoying some Netflix and chill after eating such a great dinner.”

“Don’t get your hopes up by calling this ‘Netflix and chill’.”

Jessica let out a twinkling laughter, the vibration from which Parker could feel against his neck. While he was no stranger to being intimately close with Jessica, this felt different. Maybe she was just an affectionate person? That certainly fit the bill for the stereotypical ‘Californian girl’. “That’s too bad. Although this is sorta out of order, isn’t it? Usually you’d take me out on a date before dicking me down like you have the past few weeks.”

“Wha—And whose fault is that?”

“…Yours, for having such a nice dick?”

Parker sighed, eliciting a giggle from the accusatory vixen. “Right, I apologize.”

Hearing the half-hearted apology intensified the giggles coming out from the cheerful Californian girl. “Apology accepted.”

Not ten minutes into the movie, Parker felt Jessica rest her hand on his leg. He paid it no mind, figuring it was just a mindless action from Jessica and he could just ignore it. A few minutes later, he found out that wasn’t the case, feeling her delicate fingers attempting to slip into his pants. His hand darted down, grabbing the wrist of the intruding hand. “What are you…?”

“I noticed your tent growing, so I figured you needed a hand with that.”

It was true that feeling Jessica’s ample bosom against his left arm and seeing her bare, spotless, milky-white legs glimmering in the corner of his vision gradually brought his blood from his stomach and intestines to his manhood, but it hadn’t gotten even close to a point where it was bothering him. “I’m fine, just watch the movie.”

“Just a little bit?” Jessica said, attempting to push her hand into Parker’s pants again only to again be met with the resistance of his firm grip of her wrists.

“No.”

“You’re just going to leave this hot, horny, half-naked whore, begging for the chance to be graced with the opportunity to wrap her dainty fingers around your thick, veiny cock, alone to instead focus on this movie?”

“Yep.”

Jessica whined but conceded, striking again a few minutes later when Parker’s grip of her wrists had inadvertently loosened. Despite acting more quickly this time, Parker was even quicker, catching the naughty hand before it could do much.

“You won’t even notice it, I just want to feel your cock inside my hand. Please~”

This time, Jessica tried appealing her cuteness to Parker, and although Parker noted that Jessica had an incredible knack for it, it wasn’t enough to crack his resolve. “Be patient. There’s probably a little more than an hour left, then I’ll give you unrestrained access to my cock. Plus, wouldn’t keeping yourself away from something you want only intensify the feeling of gratification when you get it?”

Parker figured the anticipation would be enough to keep Jessica at bay: of all the kinks she had, blue balling herself had to be amongst them, right? Just in case though, he made sure to hold the impatient hand in his own, soon after immersing himself into the story unfolding on the TV in front of him yet again.

What Parker didn’t realize, perhaps naively, was that the words had an unintended adverse effect: Jessica started squirming in her seat, crossing her legs and shifting around on the couch, adjusting her position leaning against Parker, eventually to the point that Parker spoke up. “Jessica, what…?”

Jessica’s eyes met his, her facial expression speaking that of frustrated anticipation. “You can’t expect me to not get so hot and bothered at the thought of having unrestrained access to your cock, and now I can’t think about anything but that,” she whined.

“Really—fine, if you’re getting so antsy, let’s compromise. I’ll use my fingers, OK?”

Jessica happily obliged, immediately opening her legs up, splaying one leg across Parker’s lap and directing his left hand, specifically his two longest fingers, into the radiating source of her heat. His fingers brushed against her soaked, sticky labia, a gasp of anticipation arising from Jessica as he aligned the digits with her entrance. Deciding to forgoing foreplay, Parker plunging two digits past her wet folds and straight into her core.

Jessica let out a muffled moan, stifled by the back of her hand, her upper body shuddering at the rough, sudden entry of his fingers. Resting his thumb and the rest of his fingers around her plugged hole, it didn’t take long for Parker’s lazy, slow, yet firm strokes to draw out her juices, covering more and more of his left hand with every outward pulling motion. It was much more difficult to re-immerse himself into the movie, what with Jessica’s shudders and aroused sighs; however, he was able to do so all the less, establishing a steady rhythm of pushing and pulling.

Parker could tell Jessica was trying to keep as quiet as possible, but the task changed from challenging to near impossible after his fingers had inadvertently found her G-spot. The fact that he wasn’t even particularly looking for it was the most surprising thing about the situation; perhaps it was how comfortable Parker had become with Jessica’s body, or perhaps it truly was a lucky accident, but the moment his fingers curled to hit her weak spot, the mewling vixen lost control of her larynx.

“F-fuck­, Parker…” Jessica’s resolve to stay as quiet as possible to let Parker continue enjoying the movie crumbled to dust as the digits pushed against the sensitive spot inside her. Parker, only half-paying attention to Jessica, barely noticed her reaction, almost missing how Jessica slouched her head against his shoulders, how her right hand grabbed a tight fistful of his pants, and the bit of a shuffling motion to his left. “Right there…”

Not thinking much of it, Parker obediently repeated the action, once again hitting the sweet spot inside her. Another low moan arose from the libidinous woman, another surge of ecstasy coursing through her veins as a result, her body tightening even more against Parker’s.

“God, Parker…”

The third consecutive time Parker’s finger hit Jessica’s G-spot, he started to finally take notice of Jessica’s gradually unraveling resolve.

“Parker, more, please…”

The plead came out as a low whimper, the needy whine of an animal submissive to its superior, Thankfully, the plead was picked up by that very superior.

“Are you so sensitive that you’re about to cum from just my fingers?”

“Why don’t you use your cock on me and we’ll find out who’s more sensitive,” she shot back. Instead of answering, Parker just turned his head to look her right in the eye as he curled his two digits and firmly rubbed her sweet spot yet again. “Fuck!” she yelped, nearly jumping off the couch.

“You’re more sensitive than every other woman I’ve had sex with, yet somehow also the woman with the most adventurous fantasies and the most stamina.”

“It’s because sex feels so great that I love it so much,” she replied. “Do you like it? Do you think it’s hot?”

“Look for yourself.”

Following his advice, Jessica’s eyes traveled south, landing on the considerably larger bulge that had developed on the intersection of his legs. Licking her lips, she said, “And you’re going to let that go to waste? I don’t want even a single drop of your precum to escape my pussy.”

“There’s still plenty of this movie to watch, so I don’t think so.”

“Why? Would my pussy be too distracting for you?”

“For sure.”

Not expecting the straight-forward reply, Jessica was too stunned to speak for a brief moment, the silence breaking when Parker’s fingers lazily found their way to her G-spot yet again. After a surprised yelp, Jessica went suspiciously silent for a moment, breaking it a few minutes later by saying, “Then use this instead.”

Parker tore his eyes away from the screen and to the veiny, plastic, purple dildo that Jessica was pushing into his hands. “What the fu—” Where did she even get that from? Under the couch? Between the cushions? Why was it there? “Do I want to know where you pulled that out from?”

“We have these placed in out-of-sight places all over the house just so—oh that reminds me, we haven’t done double penetration yet! Hunter and I do that all the time--”

“Right, I didn’t need to know that but thanks anyway.”

Jessica giggled, again pushing the phallic object into his hands. “If you’re not going to use your cock on me, at least use this plastic one.”

“Are you going to harass me until I agree?”

“I’m going to harass you until you agree.”

Parker sighed, pulling his fingers out and grabbing the oblong, purple object. Holding it was strange to say the least, having never held a dildo before—as was normal for a straight man like himself, Parker liked to believe—but what was stranger was trying to control it. Parker found it insufficient to hold it only by its base, as doing so made it harder to control the entire length of the oblong object. Using Jessica’s inner thighs, Parker readjusted his grip of the pseudo-cock before positioning it outside her glistening slit.

“Mmph, fuck…” A low, guttural sound, something between a growl and a moan, came out of Jessica as the tip of the plastic rod pressed against her soaking wet folds. “Don’t tease me, put it in…”

“Put it in what?” Parker teased her entrance, rubbing the tip across the shimmering, sensitive skin.

The low growl-moan transformed into a desperate whine. “Put it in please!”

Satisfied, Parker obliged, pushing the fake penis past her labia and watching in awe as her radiating core swallowed the entire length of the plastic object whole.

“Fuck me, that’s so good,” she moaned, the ecstatic sound partially drowned out by the swelling of the music of the movie that was still playing on the TV screen in front of them, illuminating the raunchy act in a bright blue light. “Oh … oh fuck, Parker…”

With Jessica’s less restrained moans filling the room in tandem with the movie, coupled with the additional effort it took to pump the pseudo-cock inside the moaning mess beside him, it had gotten considerably more difficult to give his full, undivided attention to the movie. His right hand found its way onto the leg that was draped over his, keeping it in place while his left hand continued to pump the plastic dick inside Jessica’s cunt with a firm and steady cadence.

The shaking of the couch, the panting breaths puffing onto his neck, the constant stream of slightly muffled moans, the occasional splattering of her juices onto the hand that was directing the object of Jessica’s pleasure, Parker found his attention shifting away from the movie and towards the sexy woman to his left. However, he adamantly refused to acknowledge it, keeping his eyes trained on the TV screen while his mind spun with the imagery of Jessica’s hot pussy absorbing the long, circular object, her beautiful legs quivering as it repeatedly penetrated her, violated her, translucent fluids spurting out of her tight hole every time the phallic object was pulled out and the sexy imagery of her womanhood taking its entire length all over again. The uncomfortable tangled feeling from his boxers keeping his now nearly full-on erection tucked at an awkward angle inside his underwear built, but he remained stubbornly stone-faced, nonetheless.

“It’s too bad this cock is a plastic one…”

So when Jessica said those words, Parker was all but ready to pounce on the opportunity.

“Yeah, really is huh.” Parker wasn’t going to just give it to Jessica though. As horny as he had become, he was still game to the coy, teasing game that Jessica tried to start.

“Why don’t you help me with my predicament?”

Parker responded to Jessica’s whine with another stoic, seemingly flippant response. “How so?”

“Can’t you use your flesh-and-blood cock? I already know there’s quite a bit of flesh on it, and from the looks of it, a lot of blood now too.”

Parker stopped, turning his head to meet the needy, lustful expression on Jessica’s face. “Did you forget that I was the winner of that game? You don’t get to make demands out of me.”

“You don’t have to do anything, I just want your fat cock to fill up my tiny little pussy. I won’t do anything until the movie’s done, and I’ll stop bothering you.” Parker took a few seconds to ‘deliberate’, Jessica then adding on, “Please?”

“Fine, but do it yourself. The movie’s starting to get interesting.”

Jessica let out a brief squeal of excitement, followed quickly by a shuddering gasp as Parker extracted the sex toy out of her, leaving it on the couch beside him. She knelt onto the ground in front of him, eagerly watching on as her fingers wrapped around the rim of his pants and boxers and pulling them off. The fleshy phallic object, coiled up due to its owner’s stubborn negligence, sprung out with such force that it struck the cheek of the excited seductress, recoiling at the unexpected slap across the cheek. “Wow, someone’s excited.”

“Shh, I can’t hear.”

In reality, the reason why Parker was having a hard time distinguishing the words of the characters onscreen was a certain other thing his mind was focusing on, namely how surprisingly sexy it was to see Jessica being slapped in the face with his cock. The realization made Parker realize that Jessica was really starting to rub off on him, in more ways than one.

“Sorry, excuse me for a bit,” she whispered, giving the warm, oblong object a few strokes for good measure before turning back around and getting back on her feet, upper body leaned over. Parker’s eyes were immediately drawn back onto the rotund posterior presented right in front of him, the perfect roundness of its shape and the perfect tautness of its skin highlighted by the flashing lights of the neglected TV screen causing Parker to temporarily forget about his conviction to feign indifference towards Jessica. It was only when she reached below her, grabbing his dick with her face almost coming in view, that Parker remembered the conviction and managed to tear his eyes off the delectable view in front of him.

Jessica wasted no time in aligning his rod with her core, barely giving the shudder of anticipation time to travel up his spine before granting the hole yearning to be filled with a more organic rod its desire.

The swear that flew out of Parker’s mouth was drowned out by the sharp moan erupting from Jessica’s lips, the hot, tight walls of her drenching wet pussy gliding against the sensitive membrane of Parker’s raging erection.

“God, it’s so fucking big, you’re stretching me out so much—”

“Jessica, I can’t hear,” Parker interjected, eyes still trained on the TV screen but his mind constantly distracted by the rough massage Jessica’s sopping wet pussy, “quiet down, please.”

“Sorry…”

She obediently muffled further sounds of pleasure, continuing to cram Parker’s oversized cock into the snug crevice it was being shoved into until her plump bottom rested comfortably atop Parker, caressing the prickly surface of his crotch. Jessica leaned back, resting her head against Parker’s sturdy shoulder with her legs spread apart, them and her vaginal lips bisected by the reproductive organ unceremoniously jammed between them.

Unable to help himself, Parker felt his eyes flicker downwards, drinking in the immensely erotic and sexually appealing sight of Jessica’s exposed, slim and slightly muscular legs spread at an obtuse angle, having so thoroughly swallowed the entirety of his length that the only sign of their connection was his taut ballsack pressed up to her entrance. It was a good thing Parker had told Jessica to keep his shirt on, else he be unable to tear his eyes away before getting caught by Jessica’s watchful eye.

At this point, it had become all but impossible to feign ignorance towards Jessica. As much as Parker lamented how he ceased to think with his brain when it came to her, his justification was a pretty darn good one, he liked to think. Her curvaceous figure, her flirtatious smile, her provocative remarks, her coquettish attitude, her seductive gestures, everything about her was just so damn alluring. And that wasn’t even to mention how damn fuckable her body was: from how powerful it made him feel to see and feel the sexy seductress squirm against his body as hers was wracked with pleasure, to how hot and tight her pussy was against his cock despite the numerous times he had previously ventured inside, to how great the massage her bubbly ass felt against his dampening groin, even down to how quickly Jessica was reduced to a panting mess from the simple act of storing his cock inside her, every aspect of Jessica seemed to be made for fucking.

Parker found his hands resting on Jessica’s lap, gently massaging the smooth texture of her legs as her hands, which were resting atop his own, followed its motion. In the corner of his vision, he could see the noticeable rise and fall of her chest, its sizable shape visible through the formfitting crop-top she was wearing. Distracting as such a simple sight as that was, for the most part, he managed to keep his eyes on the TV screen.

Holding himself back from simply ravaging Jessica right then and there grew to become a Herculean effort. He was partially aided by the movie going on still going on in front of them, but he could tell the challenge was equally present in Jessica by how tense the leg muscles his hands were rested upon were. In a way, this felt like another game, perhaps one more akin to what Jessica intended: a true battle of endurance and self-control, and Parker had no intentions of losing this game either.

But as the tension in the movie grew, so too did the tension in the muscles in Parker’s nether region. A raging inferno of lust had only grown since Jessica took her seat on top of him, flaring up when Jessica started to slowly yet firmly grind against him. The feeling translated into a tension that had built up inside him, similar to the itch to explode off the starting blocks moments before the starter pistol went off. The impatience seeped into his very bones, causing his fingers and toes to curl up all in an attempt to maintain his self-control.

As promised, Jessica didn’t make another noise of protest throughout the entire movie, although the impatience and lust that was building up inside the room grew to an almost palpable level. When the credits started rolling, Parker had to fight the urge to grab Jessica’s hips and fuck her into the next weekend right there on the couch. The thing was, Jessica would probably enjoy it, but that thought wasn’t enough to forget about the unspoken game they had started ever since Jessica sat down on his cock: and with how sweet the taste of victory was the first time around, Parker wasn’t about to trip at the finish line.

“Oh, the movie’s finally over?”

“What do you mean ‘finally over’? Wasn’t it pretty good?”

“I don’t know, I was paying more attention to your cock than the movie.”

It was an expected response from Jessica, but that didn’t stop Parker from chuckling at the remark. “Were you paying attention to the movie at any point?”

Jessica answered him with a shrug. “Now that we’ve finished digesting our dinner, are you finally going to take advantage of your reward we playing during the meal and fuck me?”

“Yeah—first, get off.”

“What are you gonna do to me?”

There it was again: the seductive grin on her face and the sultry tone in her voice, it was frankly pretty amazing that Parker managed to keep his composure. “You know, I think the one thing we haven’t done yet is normal missionary, so I wanted to try that.”

The façade instantly broke with Jessica’s jaw dropping to the ground in disbelief. “What—really?”

“What? Yeah! I told you, I’m a really vanilla guy, I like vanilla things!”

Jessica scoffed, turning back around. “I don’t know what why I wasn’t expecting a boring answer from you, honestly.”

Perhaps it was a desire to prove her wrong—no, it was almost certainly a desire to prove her wrong—that Parker decided, after a brief second of consideration, to lift Jessica straight off the couch, his member still buried deep inside her.

“Oh!—Oh���oh my god!”

With her legs dangling in midair, her upper thighs supported by Parker’s sturdy grip, Jessica couldn’t help but let out the surprised gasp at the unexpectedly assertive move from the self-described ‘vanilla’ man.

“How’s this for ‘boring’?”

The smug question was all but ignored by the immensely aroused woman, knowing that she was at the whims of Parker, as his cock shifted out and back inside her with every step. While she would’ve loved to claim the reward for winning the game they played during dinner, there was something about finally being free of deciding what to do, on top of how decisive and in-control that Parker seemed, along with the additional thought that Parker did this because he didn’t want to lose connection with her for the albeit short walk there, that made Jessica lose her mind.

“Fuck—fuck, fuck, Parker—!”

If her incessant, loud, high-pitched moans of pure ecstasy wasn’t an obvious enough indication, the incredible tightening of her pussy around his penis was yet another indication the sheer arousal Jessica was feeling.

“Jesus Jessica, you’re so fucking tight; one of these days, your pussy is going to cut circulation off my dick.”

“That—That wouldn’t be good…”

Despite everything, Parker couldn’t help but laugh at the second-hand comment by the mess of a woman that was in his hands at the moment. “No, that wouldn’t,” he said in agreement.

“You can’t—ugh, fuck—really blame me though—shit, shit, fuck it’s hitting so deep inside me…”

By the time Parker reached the bedroom, he could tell Jessica was at the doorstep of her orgasm, so instead of going straight into what he was planning on doing, he decided to finish her off.

“Parker, what—oh!”

“You wanna cum all over my cock, don’t you, you cock hungry slut?” The words felt so unnatural, coming off his tongue so willingly, but the results were undeniable: immediately after the words came out of his mouth, Parker could feel Jessica’s pussy squeeze his shaft in response to his filthy words.

“Fuck yes, tear my tiny little cunt apart with your monster cock!”

Parker planted her on the edge of the bed, granting her some room to push her supple bottom against his groin while her upper body laid atop the soft blankets on her bed, her arms being pulled back and used as leverage by Parker to position himself properly before proceeding to plow the horny vixen bent over in front of him, begging for release with her cunt stuffed to the brim with his cock.

It took not even two minutes before Jessica’s climaxed, the muscles in her lower regions tensing in response to the tidal wave of euphoria washing over her. Although Parker himself was close, he managed to reign himself in while letting Jessica ride out her orgasm.

When the rolls of pleasure finally faded from her system, Jessica let out a content sigh, letting her upper body collapse onto the bed. “Man…” Jessica’s words came out between pants and gulps of air, “… from Hunter’s description of you, and my past experiences with you—” Parker pulled his dick out of Jessica’s womb, causing another shudder to run up her body. Slivers of translucent, viscous fluid leaked out of the freshly unplugged hole, trickling down the milky white surface of Jessica’s legs. “—I didn’t think you’d take initiative so decisively … maybe if I had known, I wouldn’t have kept the secret from you for so long.”

Parker joined Jessica, who had flipped herself over and was seated on the edge of the bed, only about twenty percent of her body covered with the form-fitting crop she was still wearing.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Jessica shot Parker a cheeky grin, her fingers reaching under the last bit of clothing attached to her body and pulling it over her head. “You didn’t cum yet.”

“Yeah, it’s—”

“Let me take care of that.”

Jessica attempting to slide off the bed to finish Parker off with a titjob was interrupted by the very man, who pulled her back onto the bed. She shot him a confused look, at the same time turned on by the unusual—or perhaps, not so unusual anymore—display of dominance and control Parker enacted over Jessica. “It’s fine; lay down on the bed.”

She unquestioningly obeyed, laying against the mattress while watching Parker take his shirt off. While Parker was definitely not as muscular as Hunter, his built pectoral muscles and clearly defined abs still served as great eye candy. “What are you going to do to me, mister?”

Parker scoffed at the overly innocent tone Jessica was using, although he had to give her credit for believability with the accompanying wide-eyed facial expression of curiosity that accompanied the words. “I’m not entertaining you with this roleplay.”

“Are—are you going to ravage me with that gigantic cock?”

How hard she was trying to force the roleplay was funny in and of itself, but the funniest part was the blatantly overexaggerated stutter at the beginning of the sentence. “Are you really going to do this?” Parker asked incredulously, smiling nonetheless.

“What do you mean, mister?”

Parker cocked his eyebrow, but Jessica adamantly maintained her doe-eyed, innocent facial expression. “I’m not in the business of fucking little girls, just so you know.”

“But I just turned 18, mister! I’m not a little girl anymore!” It was Jessica’s turn to be incredulous this time, her lips turning into a pout with her eyebrows drawn together.

“What … are you even roleplaying as? A normal, 18-year-old girl?”

“You told me that you brought me here because you had something really important to teach me, but all you had me do so far is take my clothes off and lay down on this bed.”

Jessica certainly had the youthful appearance to pull of an eighteen-year-old, but it was usually the graceful maturity with which she carried herself that gave away the fact that she was a decade older. “Jessica … can we not? I just want to do something normal, I don’t want to borderline feel like a pedophile.”

She laughed, nodding. “Fine, but you owe me next time.”

“I owe you—” Parker momentarily stopped, looking up as he was situating himself between Jessica’s spread legs, “—what do you mean? This is my reward for winning our game earlier, isn’t it?”

Jessica paused for a second. Then, “Hmph. I thought you wouldn’t remember.”

“You’d do well to not underestimate how competitive I can get,” he warned her, grabbing his dick and aligning it with her entrance before swiftly reentering her. The pair inhaled sharply, the sighs turning into moans as Parker’s cock was welcomed again by the warm, snug embrace of Jessica’s sex.

Parker planted both hands on either side of Jessica’s head, his own head hovering inches above Jessica’s as her vaginal walls gave way to the relentless advance of his member.

“Ooh fuck, Parker…”

Jessica’s legs crawled up his and wrapped around his waist, the wetness from her previous orgasm lubricating his penis as it pushed further inside her. A few moments later, after Parker finally resubmerged his entire length inside her, he paused for a second to regain his composure before starting.

“Oh! Parker!”

Jessica’s high-pitched quips and lust-filled moans were music to his ears. Normally, Parker might’ve preferred his partner to not speak so much, but with Jessica, it was a different story. Her voice was just so pleasing to the ear, Parker wanted to do nothing more than to hear it more.

“Fuck, Jessica…”

He swung his hips backwards, retreating a inch more, before pushing the length back inside her.

This time, there was no crisp slapping sound, nor was there loud lustful screams, nor was there a rattling bedframe. It was just the symphony of the combined moans from the best friend and the wife, indulging themselves in the pleasures of the other’s body.

“Ooh, Parker … fuck, it feels so good … give me more, fuck, yes…!”

There was no demand he needed to meet or thing he needed to be wary of: his sole focus was the slow but steady thrusting of his penis in and out of the woman beneath him. Parker kept his eyes trained on Jessica’s, but for some reason wasn’t ready for when she opened her eyes. Jessica met his gaze with a smile in her eyes and a slight flush on her cheeks, although he couldn’t tell if it was from the strenuous physical activity or something else. Parker tried for a smile in an attempt to mask his shock, which Jessica readily returned.

This felt weird.

It felt a different kind of wrong.

Before, Parker could justify his actions as him being a victim of blackmail and rape. And while he still felt guilty, he understood he didn’t have agency over the situation.

But this was brought about by himself.

“Fuck, Jessica, I’m so close.”

“Go ahead Parker, let it out. Cum inside me.”

Was this OK?

“Shit, Jessica—!”

Having been brought to the point of no return, Parker let out a final groan before unleashing the second torrent of semen straight into Jessica’s baby-proof womb, the waves of ecstasy rolling throughout his body, his hips continuing to thrust inside her as he rode out his orgasm.

“Mmm, god, it’s so hot…”

Parker could feel Jessica’s arousal revving up again, her convulsing walls milking out the last few droplets of semen from him before his orgasm subsided.

Feeling a different kind of ashamed, Parker diverted his gaze and pulled out. “I should probably get back home, it’s getting late.”

A hand pulled Parker back onto the bed as he attempted to climb off. “Noo, sleep here with me~”

He knew he probably shouldn’t, but this time, he felt helpless at the adorable pout from Jessica. “But…”

“But what? Are you afraid I’m going to rape you in the middle of the night or something?”

“…I mean, are you?”

“No! Of course not!” Parker looked at her disbelievingly, to which she eventually added, “OK, maybe a little bit.”

“Right, I’m going back home.”

“Wait no, I’m kidding!” Jessica said, laughing as she pulled the retreating Parker back onto the bed. “Pleasee, just stay here and cuddle~”

It was those words that gave Parker the courage to finally voice the burgeoning concern that had built up over the course of the last few minutes. “Wait, first—” Jessica stopped, having already slipped under the covers and was in the middle of pulling the blanket back so that Parker could slip in, “—let me get something straight.” Jessica nodded, prompting Parker to continue. “What … exactly are the boundaries of your and Hunter’s ‘open relationship’?”

“Hm? Why?”

“I mean—does it entail cuddling or dates or anything like that?”

“…Aah…!” Parker definitely did not like the teasing smile that appeared on Jessica’s face. “Are you afraid you’ve fallen in love with me, or maybe vice versa, and have overstepped the bounds of my and Hunter’s relationship?”

“Well…” there was no use in denying it now, honestly. “…yeah, more or less.”

Jessica exploded with a twinkling laughter. “Aw, you’re so sweet! You don’t need to worry about that, Hunter and I outlined our one rule very carefully: anything is fine, even falling in love with someone else, as long as the one we love the most is each other. I’m not too sure if I’m in love with you yet, but if I do ever get there, you’ll have to settle for second because there’s no way I’ll love anyone more than Hunter.”

Parker sat on the edge of the bed for a solid few seconds, trying to process everything he just heard. Being a traditionalist when it came to romance, he couldn’t comprehend the possibility of being in love, romantically, with more than one person. However, thinking about it logically, he realized that could be a possibility … but still, it was so counter to what he understood to be ‘romance’ and ‘romantic relationships’ for his whole life that he couldn’t reconcile it in his mind.

“Come here, cuddle with me~”

“Are you—are you just going to sleep with my … my semen inside you?”

She nodded. “Isn’t it really hot, falling asleep with your cum still inside me?”

Parker furrowed his eyebrows again. “But … there’s no way you can keep it inside you the entire night. It’s going to dribble out eventually.”

“Well, you can help with that,” she said, turning around and presenting her ass to him, “by plugging my hole back up.”

“I’m not—god, you are so weird.”

Jessica turned her head back around to look at him with a smile. “So are you coming inside or not?”

“Under the covers, sure. I’m not coming inside you though.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” she replied, the frown on her face melting into a smile when she felt Parker’s arms reach around her waist. She turned her whole body around this time, draping her arm across Parker’s body, her chest pressed against his arm, resting her head on his chest.

“Remember, no raping me in the middle of the night.”

The comment elicited a giggle from the female part-owner of the apartment. “No promises.”

Next chapter here.

[trendywaifus]

Stelle nsfw and sfw headcannons…Pleasewe

ye ye!! since you two buds said please-

— aaa being in a relationship with stelle is a ride. she’s so pretty and weird that you even wonder how someone like her exists. oh well, you ain’t complaining. despite her weird traits, when it comes to you, she’s protective and almost always seen by your side! she’s like a cat y’know?

— stelle flirts but it’s..pretty random? i feel like she doesn’t know how to be romantic all like that but tries her best in unintentional silly ways. like one time, she shows up at your cabin door in the middle of the night with a rose in her mouth casually asking to be let in. if you’re wearing an outfit that she never seen before and likes it, she’ll stare at you for the longest before commenting how good you look. she’ll prob say “ your butt fits nice in those pants, can i touch?”

— the way stelle looks at you whenever you’re around is adorable. march describes it as “a happy puppy who’s happy to see its owner! “

— def touch starved. every chance she gets to cuddle with you, she plops on top of you like a dead fish and now she’s apart of you. stelle’s pretty strong so if her arms are wrapped around you. . .good luck! also, please give her forehead kisses, it makes her all puddy inside and her love-sick grin is just precious.

— her kisses aren’t bad at all. they’re languid but a little sloppy since she’s ofc inexperienced. she’ll kiss you like that before and after missions, and in the heat of the moment like after a chase or fight; it grounds her.

— there’s a few times where stelle randomly suggested on making out with you behind a building during a mission and you just look at her like she took a dive in one of the trash cans on a street.

— you know that one idle when stelle is playing on her phone? yeah, imagine her challenging you to play with her and you almost always beat her. when she finally wins, for some reason she’s smug? like you’re sore loser, why so smug? she’d be the type to ask for a rematch and try to make you lose by casually using cheesy pick-up lines or making some random jokes that’s weirdly funny.

“ wow, i’m first place, again. “ you laughed, taking delight in seeing your girlfriend’s shoulders sag in defeat as she frowns at the sight of 2nd place in front of her name. “ losing in mario kart mobile is depressing, i know. it’s a skill issue though, the game’s easy. “ you shrugged, tucking your phone back into your pocket.

“ . . . .your mom. “ she mumbled.

your head whipped towards her, a look of surprised etched on your face. “ wh-what did you just say? did. .did you just make a mom joke, stelle? “ stelle clears her throat, golden eyes twinkling with mischief, she smiling cheekily, “ no, i obviously said good game, (name). “

nsfw

— stelle’s a service top and bottom so basically a switch. she prefers top though because she enjoys pleasing you. that dazed expression on your face; it’s almost like you’re seeing stars, she’s so enthralled by it. she’s so obsessed with the way you moan her name, she does whatever means necessary to hear your voice like a broken record in her ear.

— pervert! stelle is real. she’s sneaky with it, if you’re in the shower, she shamelessly undresses and invites herself. you won’t really realize she’s there until you hear the sliding door creak open and soon after, wandering hands makes theirselves known on your stomach then travels downward; hair ticking against your neck. she grins when you say her name in a breathless voice.

— she likes to touch herself and goes off at the mere thought of you alone. even when you’re asleep beside her, she can’t resist the urge in fingering herself while watching you sleep. she’s fine in relieving herself like this and doesn’t wanna wake you up. but sometimes, she gets a little too loud. is it on purpose in hopes of you waking up to help her out? maybe.

— i can imagine her throwing you a suggestive glance as you travel your fingers up her skirt from under a table, wandering a little too close to her cunt. she spreads her legs a little more, silently inviting you to go farther.

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 1)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Talks about sex and drugs.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Coming home is supposed to be a happy occasion, but it's hard to be happy with your ex-boyfriend lurking around the corner.

A/N: This is a sequel series to Thorn In My Side, Rose in My Hand series.

Masterlist

Going back home is the last thing Y/N wants to do right now. The Outer Banks is full of memories from a heartbreak she does not want to remember. However, she is no match for the force known as Cassie and Marvin, and that is how she finds herself on a plane back to North Carolina. For the past five years, Y/N has done everything in her power to not step foot on the island again and now, it is all for nothing. “Please fasten your seat belts, we are preparing for landing,” the pilot’s voice stirs Y/N from her slumber. She can’t believe this is actually happening right now. The elderly lady beside her smiles at her, “First time going to North Carolina?” “Uh, no. I actually grew up there, in the Outer Banks, but I haven’t been back since I left. It feels a little weird,” she answers honestly. 

“Ahh, so you were running from something.” 

“Yeah, I was. But it looks like I can’t anymore. I just hope that something isn’t there anymore.”

The plane lands and Y/N gets her bags from the carousel. She waits for Mason in the pick-up area, running towards him when she spots his car. Mason crushes Y/N in a hug, “It’s so good to see you back on American soil. This is long overdue.” Y/N pats his back while returning the hug. “Yeah, yeah. It’s good to be home. Did Lace get Sparky here okay?” Mason picks her suitcase up and packs it into his trunk, “Yep, he’s probably being a little energy ball in our living room as we speak.” They both laugh at the joke and then hop into the car. “So how’s your internship at the architectural firm? Is it different from the one in Toronto?” she asks her brother, bringing her hand to the locket around her neck. Heading back to the Outer Bank is causing her to be anxious and playing with the locket calms her down. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mason that she still wears the necklace and is playing with it. 

“It’s going well. Most buildings that people look into getting built here are a different style than in Toronto. OBX wants beach boxes, while Toronto has a wide range of styles. It’s really fascinating watching how my boss’ designs still match to look different from one another.”

“That’s cool. I like the name beach box. It sounds fun. Like a giant sandbox. And are you enjoying it?”

“Yeah, I really am. Although, I do want to see if I can get an internship in an Asian country afterwards. They have a different style that’s interesting. How is the bookstore coming along?”

“A little stressful right now to be honest. Juggling my book edits and what I need to change or add so that the building is up to code and now being here. It’s all just a little too much. At least, I have a name Bookkeeper. It’s gonna confuse people who actually know what that career is but I think it’s funny.”

“It is a good name. It’s very punny.”

“Ugh, that was so bad.”

———

One of the worst places to be is her childhood bedroom. The countless days they spent cuddling on the bed haunts her. The love they expressed physically all over the room is practically engrained in her brain. She had never been able to feel that way again. She unpacks her clothes into her closet and goes to check on Sparky downstairs. He was left down there because she didn’t want him sitting on her suitcase like he did when she was packing her bags in London. He has gotten bigger and he has a little bit of an attachment issue. He doesn’t like being very far from his Mommy for very long. Y/N’s heart drops to the pit of her stomach when she sees the open front door and bolts out of it in hopes of catching her dog before he gets too far. 

She follows his barks like a trail of breadcrumbs to the sidewalk. If her heart wasn’t already giving her problems, it certainly is now. The sight before her is one she never thought she would see again. Rafe Cameron is kneeling down and petting Sparky. Beside him is a beautiful woman in a sundress. Her long black hair cascades down her shoulders and her brown almond-shaped eyes show such warmth behind them. Her makeup is done to absolute perfection. Y/N slowly approaches the trio without hesitation. She doesn’t want to go near Rafe, but seeing as it doesn’t look like Sparky is nowhere near going home, she had to go get him.

 “Hey Sparky, long time no see. It’s good to see you again, Bubba. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for ya. You’ve gotten so big,” she hears him greet. As she approaches, she accidentally steps on a stick and the crack alerts the others to her presence. “Hey,” she awkwardly begins. “I’m just here for my dog.” Rafe nods and stands up, moving to wrap his hand around the woman’s waist. “Uh, yeah. I remember a time when he used to be my dog too.” Sensing the tension, his companion introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Blythe Katsumi. I’m Rafe’s fiancée.” Blythe sticks her hand out for Y/N to shake, which she does. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Rafe’s- uh…this is Sparky.”

“It’s okay. I know you were his high school girlfriend. He told me about you.”

“Right. And he didn’t tell me about you.”

Rafe rolls his eyes and huffs, “Yeah, well it’s not like we were doing a lot of talking in the last five years. What are you doing here, Y/L/N?” 

“You mean besides looking for my dog, in front of my house? The better question is what are you doing here Rafe?”

“I have every right to be here because unlike you, I’ve been coming back home.”

Before Y/N can retort, Blythe stops the conversation from going any further. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, but we need to go. We have to get some stuff ready for the engagement party.” Blythe waves goodbye and takes Rafe’s hand to walk away. This draws Y/N attention to Blythe's left hand with the giant diamond engagement ring. This causes a stabbing feeling to shoot through Y/N’s heart. Her hand shoots up to her locket and she begins to rub it for some comfort. This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe as he catches it from the corner of his eye.

———

Everyone has their own vices. Cheating. Gambling. Alcohol. Lying. Rafe’s is drugs. There was a period of time in his life when weed was not the outlet he turned to when in need of getting out of his own head. That one blissful year he had with her was his escape instead. But after the breakup, weed was the only thing that made him forget about her. Eventually, he became numb to the weed and he needed something stronger, so Barry introduced him to cocaine. Mason didn’t know that Rafe had stepped it up in the drug department because if Mason knew, he would’ve found some way to get Rafe to stop. And Rafe didn’t want to, he needed to escape the feeling of being consumed by her. 

Before today, Rafe had managed to go a month without thinking about her at all. It was his highest record in the past five years they had been apart. There was no bookstore he walked by with a girl quite similar to her standing at the window. No hard kombucha in Mason’s fridge to indicate that she had been there. No caramel ice cream at the parlour that she would beg him to buy. It was like the universe was giving him a break from being haunted by Y/N. It seems the universe is done with giving him that gift because as he drives to Barry’s house, he is drowning in thoughts of her. He loved seeing Sparky, of course, but why did she have to come back? He couldn’t get the smell of her hibiscus body wash out of his mind. The sweet but gentle tropical scent she wore contradicted the foggy and rainy place she had moved to. Her hair is held back in a claw clip he used to play with whenever she would leave them around. 

And the thing that had really caused him to spiral is her hand still holding the locket he had given her for their first Christmas as a couple. Has she been wearing it for the past five years? Had she worn it while she let other men make her feel good, but nowhere near as good as he can make her feel? Would she wear it when she told them she loved them? But most importantly, how dare she come back to what is now only his island and wear it as if she cared for him? She hasn’t been back in years or talked to him; she doesn’t get to pretend like she’s thought about him. It is driving him crazy and he needed something to stop him from going too deep down this rabbit hole. 

Barry hears Rafe’s motorbike and is waiting outside for him. “Well, well, well, look who came back from the dead. Thought you went sober on me for a second there, country club. What can I get you for you?”

“However much you got. I got a feeling that I’m gonna be needing it more often.”

He knew he would need whatever he got his hands on to help him forget about her because if he didn’t then he would remember. And it would probably kill him to remember just how his heart almost leapt out of his chest when he saw Y/N Y/L/N right before his eyes.

———

When they broke up, Mason told both of them that he would not be used as a source to find out more about the other. He said it was for his own sanity in not wanting to be caught in the middle of his sister and best friend, but it was also in hopes that it would cause discourse between the two that would lead to their reunification. So it made sense that Mason would keep an engagement from her. But she still needed more information that she would give Mason no other choice but to give her. “How long have they been together, Mace?” Mason closes his eyes in a silent prayer that he isn’t about to have this painful conversation with his sister. He lifts his head from his laptop and turns towards her, “A year and a month. They’ve known each other for a year and a half.” 

“How long have they been engaged?”

“Four months.”

“Did you help him propose?”

“He didn’t ask.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

At this, Mason can hear the sadness in his sister’s voice. He knew no matter how much she says she is over Rafe, it isn’t true. It’s why she still wears his locket after all. He knew she needed to know though. 

“You know I don’t want to get in between you two. Also, I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to tell you something that would hurt you so much. I love you and I want to protect you from that pain.” 

“Yeah, I get that. It just would’ve hurt less if it came from you,” she whispers, not knowing what else to ask or add to the conversation. She turns around and goes to her room, where she finds Sparky waiting for her. He gives her a pouty look, asking how come he couldn’t go with his Daddy. She sits down on her bed beside him and places his head on her lap, “I’m sorry, Bubba. But I did what I had to do. Breaking up with him was necessary. I mean I set him free and look at him now, he is getting married.” It hurt. It hurt that he was okay with marrying Blythe before he turned twenty-five. He wanted to speed up his life plan two years earlier just for Blythe. How come he was willing to do that for Blythe but not for Y/N? Was Blythe really that much better than her?

Doing what any other girl would do, Y/N resolves to some internet sleuthing. It wasn’t that hard to find Blythe’s Instagram. She has a public account and Mason is following her. She has an impressive 500K followers; probably because she is the heiress to a popular Japanese hotel chain. All her posts have her makeup done to perfection and her clothes are all designer. One of her saved reels is of her and Rafe partying on New Year's Eve. At least Blythe can keep up with Rafe on that level. Y/N moves her search to Google and finds Blythe’s Wikipedia page. She was born in New York and raised there. She attended UNC for fashion. From multiple tabloid pictures, she can tell that the party scene is one Blythe frequent but she is also a sweet girl. In one picture, she is giving her jacket to a homeless person along with some money when she is returning home from a party. She helps out at soup kitchens and takes children out on shopping sprees. Y/N supposes that Blythe could just be doing it for the media attention, but the look in Blythe’s eyes tells her it isn’t true. 

After finding out possibly everything she could find out about Blythe, Y/N turns all of her electronic devices off to stop her from spiralling on social media anymore. She heads over to her bookshelf in need of a bookish escape. Her eyes glance over the different titles until her eyes find one particular book she had not thought about it in a while. She pulls the book off the shelf and opens it up to the title page with the inscription on it. The copy of The Lightning Thief that Rafe had annotated sits before her. She had left it here when she went to university because it felt too hard to bring with her. It held too much meaning. As she sits down on her window sill, she begins to read the book with a special focus on the inscriptions. She reads for hours, allowing herself to feel every bit of emotion that passes through her. God, it hurts to be back home.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you

[bravevulnerability]

would you be open to writing more? whatever you want, if so!

A/N: I'm actually doing a rewatch of Castle with a friend right now. We're on season two and just watched 2x11 (The Fifth Bullet) last night, so...

Set during 2x13 (Sucker Punch).

-

“I’m scared. I mean, what if it doesn't work out? What if it does?”

“That's the cost of living.”

“I just don't want to ruin this.”

“This is dead. You are not. Time to start making some new memories."

- Martha Rodgers & Richard Castle, 2x11.

-

She hears the crack of his skull the second before the fire of her gun, the crackle of her bullet, echoes through the air.

Castle staggers to the precinct floor, cradling the back of his head. Beckett is rooted to the spot, her shoulders tight, hands steady, heart pounding. But then he is falling, her sidekick - no, partner - collapsing beside Coonan's bloodied body, and she forces the grief back down her throat.

For a split second, she hesitates. Maybe... maybe she could keep focus her attention on keeping Coonan alive. But deep down, she knows. She knows her shot was dead center, she knows he's gone. And Castle is down.

"Castle!" she calls, holstering her gun and racing to his side, stepping over Coonan's dead body.

He's slumped against the wall, eyes closed, out cold. Her hands brace at his shoulders, steadying him as his body drifts sideways against the wall.

"Hey, Castle," she murmurs softer, an ice cold trickle of fear slivering down her back. Did he really hit Coonan that hard? Hard enough to knock himself out? "I need a bus!"

"Already on the way, Beckett."

Esposito and Ryan are at her side, Montgomery with two fingers to Coonan's neck. She doesn't let herself look long enough to see what she already knows, to watch the shake of her captain's head.

-

She sits at his bedside in the hospital. The doctor is betting on a concussion, but isn't able to make any firm conclusions until Castle is conscious again.

His mother and daughter met her at the hospital, fluttering in and out of the room like anxious birds. She abused her badge to gain access for the three of them to his room, to stay long past visiting hours. Alexis sleeps on the couch on the other side of the room now, his mother already having returned to the loft to retrieve a fresh pair of clothes for Castle.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" Martha had asked her, her voice quiet so not to wake Alexis.

"Yeah, Martha. I'm fine," she assured the other woman, forcing a smile to cross her lips.

Martha only frowned at her in return. "He's going to be okay, Katherine. I know my boy," she promised Kate with so much conviction, she wanted to believe her. "And when he sees you sitting there, he'll be even better than."

Martha had left the room with a wink, but Beckett couldn't adopt such hope. Her guilt was too busy dragging her heart down into the pit of her stomach.

It's late when his eyes flutter open, a flash of blue in the still darkness. She sits forward immediately, resisting the strange urge to grab his hand, cradle his palm in hers.

"Hey there, Chuck Norris, "she murmurs, earning the shift of his attention, the slight dip of his brow. "How's your head feeling?"

"Hurts," he rasps, wincing.

"I'm sorry," she sighs, reaching for the water beside his hospital bed. She positions the straw at his lips, watching him sip gratefully.

"Thank you," he hums, relaxing back into the pillow, but his eyes remain intense on her. "Where are we?"

"Hospital. The doctor's going to examine you again now that you're awake, but he thinks it's likely just a concussion that should heal without much issue."

"Concussion?" he echoes, confusion tugging at the corners of his mouth. "How?"

"I... you don't remember?" she asks gently. "Coonan, the precinct, the-"

"I don't remember," he interrupts with a deep frown. "I don't remember anything."

-

"Retrograde amnesia," the doctor announces. "The bump to his head, paired with the trauma of the situation... it's rare, but it happens."

Kate sits solemnly beside his mother and daughter, her hands knotted tightly together in her lap. Castle is dressed and perched on the edge of his hospital bed, his foot tapping nervously. He keeps looking at her, as if he's seeking her out.

She keeps her gaze on her knees.

"But it's not permanent, right?" Alexis inquires. "He can get his memory back?"

"It's a complex condition," the older man delivers gently. "He may have all of his memories back by tomorrow, he may never remember anything of his past ever again, or he may fall anywhere in between. It's impossible to tell. I'm so sorry."

Martha utters a soft cry of concern, Alexis grips her father's hand, murmuring reassurances at his side.

Kate stands from the plastic chair. "What can we do to make this as smooth on him as possible?"

"Not too much too soon, but it's okay to nudge reminders his way. Having his family here is a good first step," the doctor nods.

"My family," Castle speaks up, earning the attention of the room. "I know you're my mother and daughter." He nods to Martha and then Alexis, and then his eyes are settling on her once more. "And you... are my wife?"

Kate blinks before abruptly shaking her head. "No, no, we - we work together."

"What do we do?" he inquires, tilting his head in curiosity.

"Well, I'm a homicide detective-"

"I'm a cop?"

"No, you're a writer," she corrects with a twitch of her lips, but this only confuses him further.

"Then what am I doing with a cop?"

"Dad, it's kind of a long story," Alexis chimes in, shooting Beckett a nervous smile.

"But - but you and me?" He rises from the hospital bed, approaching Beckett slowly. "We're together?"

"Work together," she says carefully, but his face scrunches.

"No way," he murmurs, almost to himself, as if he's trying to work out the equation on his own. "If we're not together, we want to be?"

Her throat spasms with panic. C'mon Castle, no. Not in front of his mom and his kid.

"No, we're - we're just friends, Castle."

"Castle?" he repeats, testing the surname in his mouth. "Richard Castle? Weird name."

"No, not weird," she sighs, risking a step towards him. "It's the name of a best-selling author, who is a great asset to a homicide department of the NYPD."

The first true glimpse of him - the smile, the ripple of bright blue in his eyes - flickers before her.

"Why don't you go back to the loft with your mother, with Alexis, and see if anything sparks," she suggests, catching his daughter's eye over his shoulder.

Alexis nods eagerly. "Yeah, Dad. I think it's a great place to start. We can take a literal walk down memory lane."

Her heart eases ever so slightly when he glances to his daughter with the warmest of smiles. Somehow she knows that the large part of his brain dedicated to Alexis will return, unfurling like muscle memory through his mind.

Alexis loops her arm through his, guiding him out of the hospital room while the doctor hands Martha a stack of papers summarizing Castle's visit. They all exit the building together, prepared to go separate ways on the sidewalk, when Castle makes a sound of protest.

"Hey - I didn't get your name," he calls to her.

Something in her chest stings.

"Beckett. Kate," she adds, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Kate," he murmurs, affection, familiarity, and heat infused into the single syllable of her name. "I'll see you soon?"

"It would probably be good for him to see the Twelfth sometime," Martha quips, the smirk on his mother's lips subtle but there. "He practically spends half his time there."

"Twelfth?"

"The precinct. That's where you work with Detective Beckett, Dad," Alexis fills in, her arm still twined protectively through his.

"Oh." Castle's eyes flick back to Kate. "Until tomorrow?"

Her heart stumbles stupidly, just like it did the first time he said those words to her, the useless muscle tripping on hope.

"Yeah, Castle." She offers him the smallest hint of a smile. "See you tomorrow."

-

When Castle arrives at the precinct the next morning, it's with Alexis in tow. Everyone greets him like a hero, but he looks around clueless, a helpless attempt at a smile on his lips while his daughter guides him through the crowd of uniforms.

When he sees her across the bullpen, his eyes light up.

Her stomach turns. She doesn't know how to do this, to... to have him looking at her like that, all unguarded and vulnerable.

"Alexis walked me through my usual morning," he explains once he reaches her desk. His daughter is a few steps behind, talking with Ryan and Esposito, her red hair in a tight braid that sways as she nods along to whatever the boys are saying.

"That's good, Castle. Is it helping?"

"Not yet, but I'm hopeful," he shrugs, shoving hands into his pockets. "Do you ever call me by my first name?"

Beckett glances up from the paperwork scattered on her desk, the files she's failed to focus on since she arrived at five this morning.

"Sometimes," she muses. "It's nothing personal, just cop talk to use surnames."

"Beckett," he says. Testing it out, she realizes. "So do I only call you Kate at home?"

She forces her expression to remain neutral.

Home?

"Castle, we don't really see each other outside the precinct very often," she delivers carefully, watching his face fall.

"Ever?"

"I can't imagine how confusing this must be," she murmurs, shifting from her chair to move around her desk, move a little closer to him. Solely for the sake of keeping their conversation private. "But you and I... we're friends, partners, but not - not more."

His hand scrapes through his finely combed hair, the corners of his eyes settling into troubled lines.

"I just - I swore when I woke up this morning, you were supposed to be next to me."

Her lips part, surprise blooming on her tongue along with something else, something sweet.

"Dad?" Alexis saves her from having to answer. "I've got to get to class, but I'll be back for lunch."

"Don't worry, Pumpkin. I'll be-"

Alexis grabs his arm, her blue eyes wide. "What'd you just call me?"

Castle looks absolutely panicked. "P-pumpkin? I'm sorry, it just... came out."

"That's fantastic!" Alexis squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. "That means your memory must still be in there."

Castle hugs his daughter back, firm and relieved, his gaze flickering back to Kate with delight. So proud of himself.

"Must be," he grins.

-

His first day consists of nothing more than sitting in the chair beside Kate Beckett's desk, stealing longing glances at the woman he's convinced must have been his wife in another life. He obviously isn't sure of much right now, but for some reason, he feels certain of this.

He asks her questions about their time together, about their first meeting, the cases they've worked on together.

His brow furrows when she says they took a break over the last summer, but she bristles when he asks her why.

"I want to help, Castle, but I don't want to give you a biased history lesson," she explains. "The doctor said it's best if the memories are able to come back on their own."

He huffs at the response, but doesn't argue.

The days that follow are a lot of the same - he wakes up, has breakfast with his mother and daughter, walks with Alexis to school and then he makes his way to the Twelfth precinct to be with Kate.

It isn't until the third day that he has his first burst of memory. A burst that leads to an explosion.

Alexis.

She comes back so fast and strong, from the moment she came into his life until the day of the accident. She nearly cries when he tells her that morning, arms latched around his neck as he spins her around in the kitchen.

Bits and pieces of his mother come back next, patchy memories of his childhood, his teen years, his dream come true of becoming a bestselling author. It's all trickling back in like a stream to the river of his mind.

Everything, except for her.

It's been nearly a week and he still can't remember Kate.

"What's your memory of the day, Castle?" she asks him when he finds her in the break room that morning, fiddling with an expensive looking espresso machine.

"A book tour in Europe," he muses, approaching her with an eyebrow raised. Beckett scowls at the frother that hisses at her in return. "You're cute when you're angry."

She pierces him with a glare.

"But not with me," he mutters, coming up beside her and shooing her out of the way. "Here."

Without thinking, he prepares a latte for her, adding the two pumps of vanilla, just how she...

Glimpses of mornings spent with her - on sidewalks, parks, apartments all over the city - squeeze into his brain, pushing through the blank spaces like dripping water through cracks.

"Kate," he exhales, turning to find matching wonder in her gaze. "I bring you coffee."

She pins her bottom lip between her teeth, hazel eyes sparkling near green for him.

"Usually when we meet at crime scenes, but... but I bought this." He glances back to the espresso steaming into the waiting mug. "So you could always have good coffee here."

"Yeah," she exhales, but she's smiling at him. "You did make it a habit over the past year."

"Because it makes you smile," he adds, softer now, because part of him knows that the old him never shared this with her. But he doesn't try to stop the words. "And I love your smile."

That smile he loves so much doesn't exactly leave her face, but it falters, waning across her lips.

"I'm going to remember you," he promises - her or himself, he isn't sure.

"I'm sure you will," she answers quietly, something like sorrow bleeding into her gaze. "And when you remember everything, Rick - when you remember how you ended up in this mess, maybe you'll wish you could forget."

-

Kate avoids him for the rest of the day and he lets her, lets her have her space. He's learned enough to know that pushing her doesn't usually work in his favor.

He follows around Ryan and Esposito instead, squeezing out information, gaining small glimpses of the boys he once knew. He remembers Ryan's favorite tie, the video game Esposito's been trying to find time to play for the last two weeks - random tidbits he's grateful for. They're like little seeds and he knows if he just keeps tending to them, they'll grow.

He's not as patient with his memories of Beckett.

Esposito spills first.

"I'm only telling you this because if you get some random burst of memory in front of Beckett, you're gonna bust us both," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Beckett's mom was murdered, it's why she became a cop. Long story short, I let you see the file, you put your nose where it didn't belong and got involved, tried to bring your money into it to solve the case. It's how you ended up with amnesia and she ended up with another dead end."

It was my mother, not my father.

This is for the life that I saved, and this is for the life that I lost.

The crumpled woman in the alley, the stab wounds in her abdomen, the expert showing him the patterns of wounds on a dead woman's body.

You don't back down. That's what makes you extraordinary.

What if I let her down?

I didn't think you were arrogant, Castle. I thought what you did was sweet.

"Hey, hey, Castle? Are you okay, bro?"

His head is pounding. His body is sinking.

"Rick."

His eyes snap open to find Kate Beckett kneeling before him. He's on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, head cradled between the hard press of his palms.

The touch of her fingers to his arm is so careful, so comforting. He wants to tug her into his arms, bury his face in her neck, let the fantasy that's been running wild in his head since he woke up and saw her be real.

"Let me take you home."

-

He remembers her mother's case. Not everything, but the bones of it.

"I need you to let this go for tonight," she tells him. They're sitting in her cruiser outside of his loft. Hearing the flashes of his memories, the ones that spread through his brain like a decimating wildfire at the precinct, has a terrible mixture of resentment and guilt swirling through her insides.

She wants to hate him all over again for unearthing this to begin with, but she can't. She can't, because she's always known this was inevitable. A year of therapy could only keep her away from her mom's case for so long.

"You're angry with me."

"No, I'm not," she sighs, but she can't look at him. "I'm angry with myself, with the guy who killed with my mom, with the whole situation."

"But Kate-"

"But your memory - it's delicate. No more ambushing people for information."

She tears her eyes away from the window, the darkening skyline. Storm clouds roam the horizon, merging with the cloak of night.

He looks so sad in the passenger seat, his eyes down, head low. So many of his memories have come back to him, and yet his heart still looks so broken.

"And, I'm only going to say this once, but I need you to know something."

That earns the reluctant lift of his gaze, his attention.

"I have a hard job, Castle, and having you around makes it a little more fun," she admits, some of the ache of earlier draining away at the twitch of his lips. "So I need you to focus on getting better, on remembering me because - I want my partner back."

The smile he gives her has her leaning her head back against the seat, smiling back at him like an idiot.

"Your secret's safe with me, Kate."

His hand is reaching across the space between them, stealing hers, and she lets him have it.

-

The banging on her door has her jerking awake and reaching for her gun, but then she hears the familiar yet urgent calling of her name.

"Beckett! Beckett! Please be awake!"

She growls and hurries out of her bed, to her front door, before he can wake all of her neighbors.

She yanks the door open to see his fist raised and ready for another series of knocks. He's dripping wet, hair drenched and clothes soaked.

She notices then that it's raining outside, storming if the sound of the downpour and the rumble of thunder is any indication. And he's in nothing more than a t-shirt, flannel pajama pants, and a coat that's flapping open.

"Castle, what the hell are you doing?" she hisses, dragging him inside by his raised arm.

"Kate, Kate, I'm so sorry," he breathes, his chest falling heavy and fast, his teeth chattering. "I've been going through my files, trying to jog more memories and I - I found the file, my notes, all of it. The one on your mother, the one with the guy who I knocked out, who you had to-"

"Castle," she quiets him, reaching for the panicked, rain stricken face before her. God, he's freezing. "Hey, look at me - breathe."

"No, Kate, it's all my fault," he rasps, holding to her wrists, thumbs pressing at the points of her pulse. "I started all of this. And now your lead is dead and it's because of me-"

"If it wasn't for you, I would have never found my mom's killer," she cuts him off, wiping some of the moisture from his cheeks with the swipe of her thumbs.

The heaving of his chest slows, the anguish in his eyes dimming, calming.

She's never been this close to him before, able to feel the exhale of his cool breath on her lips. She should take a step back, slip her hands from his grasp, create some much needed distance between them.

But the way this version of Castle looks at her, so open and needful, so unabashed in his desire to be near her... it has her body canting towards him, her carefully crafted resistance waning.

"Was I angry at you when you opened this? Yes. But I know why you did it, okay? I know you care, and I appreciate you for it."

"I'm still sorry," he whispers, staring down at her. Raindrops from his hair drip down the slope of his nose, fall to the inches of hardwood between their feet. "I'm sorry it hurt you. I'm so sorry-"

"Shh, no more," she says, gentle but firm. "No more being sorry."

Castle sighs, resting the weight of his cheek into one of her palms, the edge of his lips grazing her skin.

"Thank you."

She nods, touching one of her thumbs to the dip in his chin.

"Did you run all the way here to tell me this, Castle?"

"I couldn't sleep anyway," he shrugs, still holding to the slim bones of her wrists. "I'm up every night, trying to remember more. Remember you."

Her gaze flicks back to his, the blue in his eyes shifting, storming like the clouds outside.

"You remember enough," she tries to placate him. "You've remembered cases, my coffee, the first time we met-"

"The details," he murmurs. "I want every detail back. I read the first Nikki Heat book."

She swallows hard, lowers her eyes to the fabric of his t-shirt plastered to his chest.

"I want to remember what I was thinking when I wrote the dedication, those interrogation scenes, page 105-"

"Stop," she whispers, but her heart is stuttering unevenly in her chest, bumping against ribs and making her feel unsteady.

"I want to remember the moment I knew I wanted more with you," he breathes.

"More?" she echoes, letting his hands glide along her arms, cupping her elbows, trailing her triceps, cradling her shoulders.

"Kate." He leans in, forehead bumping against hers. "When I woke up, I saw you."

Her body sways into his without her permission.

"And I knew it would be okay."

She shakes her head, but he's nudging his nose against hers, lips glancing over hers with such tentativeness.

"Rick."

"When you're not around, everything feels wrong."

She barely has to arch onto her toes to kiss him, barely has to lean forward to finally seal her lips to his. Castle moans softly, as if in relief, as he kisses her back, his arms wrapping around her.

She shivers when the cold, wet front of his body presses against hers, but the chill fails to stop her from rising into him, from hooking her arms around his neck, fingers in his hair.

His mouth is a caress over hers, his tongue reverent as it slips past the seam of her lips.

She's always known he would be good at this, that they would combust from chemistry the moment she finally allowed it, but she didn't prepare for the trembling need in her bones, the rabbitting of her heart, the slam of the door at his back.

"Has it - always been like this?" he gasps, the heat of his breath fanning across her lips.

"Like what?" she murmurs, feathering her fingers at the still healing bump at the base of his skull, tracing her other hand down his side, feeling the quick rise and fall of his ribcage.

"The wanting," he mumbles, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. Kate hums, kissing him back and slipping a hand beneath the sopping fabric of his shirt. "I don't need to remember to know," he gets out, staining his lips to her jaw, searing along her bone. "I never wanted anyone like this."

He doesn't stop her from shoving the coat from his shoulders, the t-shirt over his head, letting it all hit the ground with a wet slap. He fists his hands in her oversized t-shirt, knuckles brushing the naked skin of her thighs, snagging in the lace at her hips.

Kate mewls against the nip of his teeth, dragging him from the door with her hands at his nape, walking backwards in the direction of her room.

"Me neither," she confesses into his mouth, finding that she believes it too. "It's always felt like this with us."

They stumble into her bedroom, but he's gentle as he lowers her onto the mattress, moves his body over hers, and kisses her like he wants to press every memory into her.

-

She gasps awake, her room still heavy with darkness, the storm still raging outside.

Her back is slick with sweat from that damn dream she's had every night since she shot Dick Coonan, since Castle lost his memories, since everything changed so brutally.

"Bad dream?"

Kate shifts in the sheets, finds him propped up on an elbow, watching her. Rain still spatters against the window across her room, painting splotches of moonlight and streaks of lightning across his skin. Rolling onto her back, she studies the bare expanse of his chest, the ruffled state of his hair, the clear sea of his eyes on her.

"Yeah," she murmurs, but her hand rises for his jaw, caressing the line of his throat with her fingers. "You?"

"No, just don't want to sleep."

Her fingers twine absentmindedly with the baby fine hairs at the base of his skull. "Why not? Afraid you might forget something?"

"Oh no," he grins, eyes sparking mischievously. "You were right, Kate. I had no idea."

Her lips part to make a remark when realization dawns on her.

"You remember that?"

"And a few other things," he teases, but he's smiling wide at her now, causing her heart to skip a few beats. "Not everything is there yet, still some blank spaces and pieces I can't unscramble yet, but... I'm pretty sure I remember the important parts."

She grins and snakes her arms around his neck, pulling herself up to meet him. His chest shakes with laughter against hers and then he's burying his face in her neck, kissing her shoulder.

"Even if I didn't-"

"We'd just make new ones, Castle," she promises him, drawing back and dragging him down with her when she lowers herself back to the mattress, his body draping warm and firm over hers. "I like our..."

"Story," he supplies for her, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.

"Our story," she chuckles. "But I could let go of a few pages if I can have this chapter."

"Ooh, Beckett," he grins, craning his neck to kiss her. "I didn't think you could get any hotter, but please keep using literary metaphors in bed."

She's laughing into his mouth, tangling her legs with his under the sheets.

"Wait," he gasps, tearing away from her. "I gotta ask-"

She arches an eyebrow impatiently.

"Remy's, tomorrow? I don't have a memory of us going on a first date."

Heat is radiating from his skin, his fingers twirling in her hair, and it scares the shit out of her, how much she likes him. How possible it could be to love him. She doesn't know if they would have ended up this way without the events of the last few days, but to resist it would be like fighting the tide. And she's rather enjoyed being swept up in him.

Maybe the fear is worth it, for the chance of loving him, letting him love her.

Her hands cradle his cheeks and she arches her neck to kiss him, slow and long and with desperation in the stroke of her tongue.

Castle moans and presses down, slotting into place against her.

"Yes," she breathes, stroking the bones of his cheek, letting her words caress his lips. "I'll make new memories with you, Rick."

[multimilfs]

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader: Stairway to Heaven

Summary: Anon requested Melissa Schemmenti + 132 -- "I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much."

AO3

List of prompts found here!

A/N: Happy ficmas everyone!! I have been working really hard to get ready for kickoff today and I hope you'll all enjoy what I have in store! Enjoy!

Special thank you to the amazing @arewecoolio for reading this over for any errors!! You're the best 💖

Full Ficmas List

Tag List: @multifandomfix @greenawayprentiss @escapetodreamworld @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

Warning(s): None

Gary is cool. He's even funny on occasion, when he remembers the punchline. He treats Melissa like a Queen—though she deserves nothing less—and worships the ground she walks on. But you’re not convinced he’s good enough for her. 

You’re watching the two interact across the lunchroom with simmering jealousy. It’s an ugly emotion you’re not fond of feeling, but one you can’t seem to shake these days. The grip on your grading pen tightens as Melissa laughs at some joke of Gary’s. 

“Girl, you’ve got to do something about all… that.” Ava says, motioning to your expression, “Channel that anger into something productive. Like packing orders. Or sex.” 

“I’m not participating in your pyramid scheme.” You answer. 

“Oh, so you’re going to get some? Finally. It’s hard having to entertain you with my stories when I’m not getting anything back.” 

“To be fair, I never asked to hear about your sex life,” You point out. Ava shrugs and you continue, “If you tell me about Tyrone one more time I might lose it.” 

“Tyrone? He’s old news. I’m onto Jamal now, keep up.” 

“Jamal? What about his sister?” 

“She was into some weird stuff. I’m freaky too, but even I draw the line at dolls.” 

Ava shivers and you decide not to ask. It’s better for your sanity that way, though you’re morbidly curious. Ava never tells a bad story. 

Another presence joins the table as Janine sidles up, looking far too awake and positive for 9 am on a Tuesday. She smiles obliviously. 

“Dolls? I loved dolls as a kid.”

Ava scoffs, “Yeah, I bet you made them kiss each other and all that nonsense.”

“Of course I did. It was like directing my own little show!” 

“Is that where the control issues started?” You ask. 

Janine’s oblivious smile drops and she levels you with a look. It’s closer to matching Barbara’s with every day that passes, it’s almost impressive; but unless Barbara herself levels one at you, you’re going to remain unphased. 

“Don’t shame my childhood development just because you’re jealous over Melissa and the vending machine guy.” 

You turn red, “I am not jealous!” 

“Right. And I wasn’t named tastiest doomsday prepper in Philly.” Ava says, rolling her eyes. 

You and Janine lock eyes, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Everytime you talk to Ava you learn more about her; that isn’t always a good thing. When Janine opens her mouth, you give her a subtle shake of your head. Once the two get started it’s impossible to get them to stop. 

Unfortunately, Janine is too stubborn, and has to do things her way; she engages the Principal in a battle of wits she can’t win. You tune it out the second she starts in on how doomsday prepping is futile and the kind of neurotic spending reaction it induces only benefits the government. That isn’t a can of worms you feel like glancing inside. 

You decide to torture yourself emotionally instead. 

It should be easy to watch Melissa laugh and grin in that smug, bright-eyed way she pulls off so well, but it turns your stomach to know Gary is the cause of it. He’s nice enough—that’s the excuse you try to use everytime, to no avail—but he isn’t you. And against the slim odds of someone like Melissa ever wanting you romantically, you wish it was you. 

Does he know her favorite restaurants, her favorite soap operas? Does he know about the years Melissa dedicated to caring for her Nana? Does he know how incredibly fucking lucky he is to have Melissa Ann Schemmenti wrapped around his finger? 

The likelihood of him knowing anything important is slim-to-none. The redhead is too private to share information so soon, but the little green-eyed monster in your head prods you, asking what if he does? Your fists clench in your lap. You’ve been climbing the stairway to heaven this whole time and Gary’s probably on the highway. 

“Hey, hon,” You’re surprised from your thoughts to see the object of them in front of you, leaning on the table, smiling. 

You smile back, “Hey, Mel.” 

“What are you doing tonight?” 

Hope claws up your throat. You shove it down violently, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Depends. Why?” 

“Gary was asking about you, he wants to meet ya. I was thinking you could bring your secret lover on a double-date tonight. You meet my guy, I meet yours.” 

You tilt your head, brows scrunching, “Secret lover?” 

“Oh come on,” Melissa rolls her eyes. She levels you with a look that says don’t give me that bullshit, “I’m not blind. You suddenly go silent on all things romance and think I wouldn’t figure out what that meant?” 

Nerves and mortification make you nod, smiling sheepishly. Your chest hurts. Of course she’d notice; after several years of friendship and teaching together, how could she not? The two of you were practically glued at the hip before Gary came along. No topic had been too much and then for you to go silent… you can see how that’d come across. You’re glad she didn’t suss out the real reason. 

“I’m not sure. Things are still pretty new…” 

“I’ll buy your drinks.” 

That makes you pause. 

Then you see how she’s looking at you. She’s leaning down into your space, grinning like she knows she's won. You can’t deny her anything, not when you know how much it’ll mean to her for you to really meet Gary as her romantic interest rather than a passing acquaintance. It’ll kill you. Watching her laugh with him will undo your feeble grip on sanity. 

It’ll kill you, but you’ll do it for her anyway. 

“When and where?” 

— — 

This is a terrible idea. 

The place Gary chose is a total dive, and not the good kind; every surface is covered in a fine layer of grime and ash, ninety percent of the men and women at the bar smoking like chimneys, and the beer you ordered tastes like if someone decided to waft alcohol in the direction of their drink. All of this you could forgive. 

What you can’t forgive is the absence of a proper pool table. 

Every table in the place is falling apart at the seams. There’s maybe two cues per table and some of the nets have holes large enough to send grown men chasing after solid and striped balls alike. 

The worst part? Melissa stands in the center of it all, smiling like none of it bothers her. You know better. Her smile is strained at the edges, her eyes slightly pained. If only she’d say the word, you’d sweep her out of here. She just maintains that strained smile when you walk up to her. 

“Where’s the secret lover I was promised?” Melissa asks. 

You smile, though your heart isn’t in it. It’d taken endless promises to get her to agree, but eventually—

“Sorry I’m late y'all. There’s a guy selling mixtapes outside and I had to hear it before I bought anything. Can’t be too careful, you know?” 

Melissa’s smile melts from her face. Her eyes bore hard into you, dark with emotion. As she looks between you and Ava—who leans against the table next to you, either totally oblivious or uncaring—her jaw tenses. 

Gary chooses that moment to speak, a jovial smile on his face, “Now I did not see this coming! I never would’ve guessed you two would be seeing each other.” 

“Neither did I.” Melissa says. 

You want to disappear into the floor. Despite the fact that Melissa is openly seeing Gary, you feel you’ve done something wrong. 

It doesn’t help that Ava drapes herself against your side. She makes deliberate, intense eye contact with Melissa, and takes a slow sip of a drink you failed to notice. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. You’re grateful for the absence of anything sharp. 

“What can I say, I lucked out. Anyone would be lucky to get a piece of her.” Ava says. Her tone is startlingly sincere. 

You give her a hard look. She just shrugs. 

“No drink for me?” You ask, anything to distract from the way you can’t look at Melissa. 

Ava raises a brow, “If you want something, you just gotta ask.”

“I’d kill for a gin and tonic.” 

“Got it.” 

“I’ve got it, you two sit.” Melissa interjects. 

She extracts herself from Gary and stands at the same time Ava does. On another night, you’d take Melissa's offer as the kind act it is, but tonight it feels strangely like a threat. 

The two are caught in a strange staring contest. You want to reach out and tug Ava down into her seat, but you’re frozen, wondering what the hell is going on.

“I’ll get it.” Ava says.

“She’s my friend.” Melissa crosses her arms over her chest. 

“She’s my date.” 

Melissa’s body tenses at the word. 

You’re too busy watching Ava, trying to decipher where she’s been hiding this acting talent. She had been reluctant to join your ruse and now it seems like she couldn’t be anywhere else. For a moment it feels authentic enough to make your stomach turn.

Gary cuts in before Melissa can back down, “I could use another beer if you’re going towards the bar.” 

“Sure. You got it, Gar.” 

The two walk away in tense silence. Melissa keeps looking at Ava from the corner of her eyes, while the principal pretends she isn’t there. 

It leaves you with Gary and you smile. Trying to pretend there’s no tension is easier with the women across the bar. 

“It’s good to meet you,” He says, friendly enough, “Melissa talks about you enough I feel like I already know you, but I’m glad she got you to come out tonight.” 

“Yeah. It’s good to meet you officially. Besides the occasional run-ins during lunch, I mean.” 

He nods and drinks the last swig of his beer. You take a few seconds to glance through the haze of smoke towards the bar. Melissa leans one arm on it, waiting while the bartender runs around helping out rough-looking men and women. She looks perfectly placed and yet stands out; she’s probably the most beautiful woman to ever set foot in this place. 

Ava’s chatting up a woman at the bar like Melissa isn’t even there. So much for her putting on a good act. 

Even if she’s not looking at Ava directly, you know Melissa’s listening, cataloging everything. You’ll get an earful about having self-respect when choosing partners later. 

“There’s another reason I had her ask you here tonight.” Gary says.

His face is serious. You’ve never seen the man without a smile and it unnerves you. Trying not to let that show, you raise an eyebrow. 

“I wanted to meet the woman Melissa’s in love with.” 

You blanch. 

“Gary, that’s—she’s not—“ 

A hand settles on top of yours and his smile makes an appearance. It’s kind, kinder than you deserve after all the things you’ve thought about him. 

“I knew there were three of us in this relationship when I went out with her the first time. But I’m giving you the chance to make it two again,” He says, “She’s crazy about you and I can see you feel the same way. She’s all yours.” 

You should be overjoyed. Melissa feels the same way about you, you have a shot? Instead, you feel angry. 

“You’re going to give her up just like that?” You snap. 

Gary startles you by laughing. 

“I can’t exactly give up what isn’t mine.” 

“She chose you.” 

“Sometimes people make mistakes.” When you seem unconvinced, he shakes his head, “Melissa’s a good woman, she deserves someone who makes her happy. That just happens to be you and not me. I’m not mad about it.”

You’re reeling. The room feels like it's spinning and you don’t have time to regain your focus before the women return. Ava sets down your gin and tonic with a nod. 

Melissa starts up an animated conversation with Gary, who nods along, adding in his own comments. He keeps glancing over at you when Melissa won’t. The whole thing makes your stomach turn; you have no clue what you’re doing. 

You grab Ava’s hand, flashing a strained smile at the pair, “Excuse us for a moment,” and drag the principal off to the bathrooms. 

 Once you’ve shoved Ava in the ladies room and locked the door behind you, you spin on your heel towards the other woman. 

“I know you want this to bother her, but dragging me into the bathroom for a quickie is a bit much, even by my standards.” Ava says. 

“That’s not what this is.” 

“Right, why else am I here then?” 

“When you and Melissa went to grab drinks, Gary told me Melissa’s in love with me.” 

Ava stares at you. 

“That’s it? I could have told you that months ago.” 

You blink, “What?” 

“Yeah, neither of you are subtle. You practically have it written on your billboard sized forehead.” 

Suddenly self-conscious, you reach a hand up to your forehead, before reminding yourself to focus on the task at hand. Ava knew Melissa returned your feelings the whole time. You wonder who else knows and has let you stew in jealousy for weeks. 

Melissa’s reaction to Ava makes a lot more sense. It’s almost comforting to know that you’re not the only one who has been fighting with jealousy. You feel very, very blind.

“Who else knows?” You ask. Your friend gives you a blank stare, “Seriously? Everyone knows?”

“Yes. Do me a favor though and play dumb a few more weeks? I’ve got good money on this.”

“You bet on me?”

“I bet on Melissa, actually, which is why I need you to keep quiet.”

“Ava, I’m not going to ignore this because you want to win a bet. Come on.” 

Ava rolls her eyes, “Fine, I’ll cut you in on the bet.” 

“Ava!” You glare.

“This could be your chance to support a young, black entrepreneur. It’s hard out here.” 

“Try that on Jacob.” 

She lets out an ugh and throws her hands up. You want to be upset that she’s asking you to keep quiet, to lose more valuable time with Melissa, but you can’t be; even if she did leave you oblivious for weeks. If you’re going to be upset with her, you have to be upset with everyone. 

It comes from a place of letting you make your own decisions; you know that and admire it just a little. But you were oblivious. Melissa seems like she is too, if Gary’s talk told you anything. Would they have let the two of you circle each other the whole time? 

You would be miserable if Gary—Gary, who you’d been unfair towards this whole time—hadn’t spoken up. He’s sacrificing his chances with Melissa so you can have your own. Mentally, you make a note to get the man some kind of ‘thank-you’ gift. 

Ava snaps in front of your face and you jerk back. 

“What are you going to do?” She asks. 

“Uh… talk to her?” 

“Not the energy I was looking for, but good enough. Let’s go.” 

Ava grabs your arm, not unkindly, and drags you to the door. You drag your feet. 

“Now?!” 

She doesn’t even dignify your question with a response. The bathroom door is opened and you’re nudged through it. You walk, but throw a glare over your shoulder, annoyed at her sudden silence. Ava doesn’t acknowledge it. 

Gary is the only one left at the table and you panic, eyes searching the room. The heart in your chest settles when you catch a glimpse of familiar red hair. 

Melissa’s across the bar at one of the more put together pool tables, surrounded by women in a shocking amount of leather. Her eyes are focused right on you. They move briefly to Ava, though she doesn’t seem to find anything damning. The focus of her gaze moves away when one of the other players nudges her and she leans over the table to line up a shot. 

You’re caught for a second in watching her. Her eyes narrow before she settles in to take the shot and when she pulls back the cue, she makes direct eye contact, and sinks a solid ball in one of the pockets. 

Cheers go up from the woman you assume she’s playing with. You don’t bother to look at her. Instead, you make a direct beeline for Melissa; her eyes following you every step of the way. 

“Can I talk to you?” You ask when you reach her. 

You’re well aware of the glances her fellow players are throwing in your direction, but you don’t care. Melissa seems curious, but she gives nothing else away. 

“I’m in the middle of a game, hon.” 

Laying your hand on her arm, “Please, Mel.” 

Like magic, you watch her soften. She nods and hands off her cue to the nearest person without looking. You lead the way outside, wanting away from the noise and smoke for a few minutes, if only to clear your head. 

The silence is too tense for your liking, but neither of you are doing anything to break it. You breathe deeply. You’re at a loss on what to say; how do you tell someone you’re in love with them? 

Instead of anything rational coming from your mouth, you ask, “How do you feel about Gary?” 

Melissa jerks in surprise, “That’s what you pulled me out here for?” 

“He seems to think your feelings, your heart, lie elsewhere,” You barrel forward, hoping it works in your favor, “Namely, with me.” 

Her eyes widen slightly before she schools her expression. It’s all you need to feel more secure in blindly following Gary’s word. 

“I’m not sure where he got that idea.” Melissa says. 

“But you’re not denying it.” 

“Does it matter? You seem to have things pretty easy with Ava.” 

A note of bitterness slips into her voice. You soften, recognizing the underlying jealousy you’d been feeling only this morning. 

“It matters to me,” You say, “because I’m crazy about you, Mel, and I need to know you feel the same way.” 

Melissa doesn’t bother to hide her surprise this time. You smile, but fidget under all of her attention. You want to reveal every thought and feeling to this woman in a way that’s overwhelming. She seems so shocked, you can’t help but want to assure her of how real your feelings are. 

“I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much,” You admit. It feels odd to say it out loud, “But you make a lot of impossible things feel possible.” 

She looks at you like she’s never seen you before. It’s daunting. 

“You really mean that?” Melissa asks. 

“Wholeheartedly.” 

“And what about Ava?” 

You chuckle, “I bribed her into playing the part. She’s a surprisingly good actress.” 

“Good.” 

Melissa leans forward and kisses you. 

It isn’t the kind of kiss you expect, but it’s the kind you always daydreamed about; the soft, almost hesitant way she claims your lips, while her hands dig into your hips. You’ve never felt so awkward and so pleasant in your life. You have no idea what to do with your hands. 

The other kisses in your life never felt so strange. You wonder how much they really meant to you, if this is what a real, loving kiss feels like; unsure and yet, eager. 

Throwing your nerves out the window, you give in to all of it. You sink into the whirlwind of emotions and wrap yourself around Melissa. Her kiss grows more insistent and you match it, pulling where she pushes, moving with every forceful press of her lips. 

You’re on your last shred of oxygen when she pushes you back. Only an inch of space separates the two of you taking in furious gulps of breath, cheeks flushed pink and wearing matching smiles. It hardly feels real. 

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Melissa says. 

“Hardly. I’d have kissed you in a second if you asked.” You say sincerely. 

“Me? Why would I be the one to ask you?” 

You raise a brow, “Well, you were the one seeing someone else.” 

“I wouldn’t have gone out with him if you said something.” 

A laugh leaves your lips unbidden. Your eyes sparkle when you look up at Melissa, wondering how you managed to get so lucky. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to answer that question. She’s wonderful and kind and beautiful and all the things you feel you don’t deserve. She’s yours anyway. 

Her eyes shine as she stares back. Wishing you could jump into her mind, you get lost in them. Then you do as she wants and capture her lips in another kiss. It’s shorter than the first and more comfortable, but the feeling of newness still lingers. 

Not for the first time, you wonder how much time you’ve lost being jealous. But you try not to dwell too much; it’s difficult when the most beautiful woman in the world is staring into your eyes. The lost time doesn’t matter when you have it now—when you have her now. 

[atinylittlepain]

Firehouse Harrington - Chapter 3

fireman!Steve Harrington x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ SMUT, ANGST, Steve knocks a guy's lights out, ok? ok.

a/n | It's halloween, Steve's least favorite holiday. But the spookiest thing here are his serious abandonment issues :/

Steve hates Halloween. Crowds mulling about on the sidewalks, little kids screaming for no good reason, and usually a significant uptick in calls to the station due to people’s booze-heavy parties. It’s the one thing he asked for from the chief, to have Halloween off every year so he could go into hiding for those twenty-four hours of national stupidity. 

This year is proving to be different. While he does have the day off from the station, his girl has asked him to come with her to a Halloween party. When he had told her there was no chance in hell he’d go out on Halloween, she just shrugged, said fine, that she’d go by herself. Steve wasn’t about to let that fly. 

That’s why he currently finds himself waiting outside her dorm in the quick-cooling October night. She had told him to wear a costume, which he balked at. But he did put in some effort, putting on his worn leather jacket from his army days, letting his dog tags hang out over a white t-shirt, aviators on his face. Top Gun was still cool, right?

His worries about his own outfit fly out the window when she finally comes out though. He finds himself speechless, taking in her attire. She’s wearing a very tight and very short black dress. Too short, too tight he thinks to himself. There’s yellow and gray stripes in some parts, and Steve realizes it’s the same kind of stripes that are on his own uniform. And then he sees she’s got a little plastic fireman’s hat on her head. Mother of god. He swallows thickly, finally meeting her eyes.

“Hi, Stevie.” “You’re not going out in that.”  She scoffs at him, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that makes her cleavage even more unbearable.

“Steve, don’t do this. I thought you’d like my costume. I wore it for you.” Steve scrubs a hand down his face.

“I do like it, doll. But I’m pretty sure every other guy on this campus is gonna like it too.” She steps forward, bringing her palms to rub up and down his chest.

“Listen, don’t worry about every other guy, yeah? I just wanna have a good night with you.” He knows there’s no use arguing with her, she might even be more stubborn than he is, so he just sighs. He offers her a crook of a smile before tipping her hat up with his finger.

“Alright, alright. Lead the way, chief.” She grins, taking his hand and tugging him along to wherever this godforsaken party is.

Steve’s stomach drops when he sees the greek letters over the front door of the house. A fucking frat party? She tugs on his hand, looking back at where he seems to be stuck in place.

“Baby, we’re just gonna have some fun, ok? And then we can leave, whenever you want to.”

“Can we leave now?”

“Steve.” he acquiesces to her, letting her pull him into the house. 

Steve is immediately reminded why he hates Halloween.

It’s a sea of scantily clad bodies bumping into each other to the beat of an ingratiating song. He feels like he can practically chew the air it’s so humid and murky inside, a mix of sweat and booze assaulting his senses. The only thing keeping him from completely losing it is her hand still firmly holding onto his as she leads him through the crowd towards the kitchen at the back of the house.

She lets go of his hand to hug a few of her friends and he hates how much he wishes she hadn’t let go of him. He tries to act somewhat pleasant as she introduces him to her friends, trying to make his grimace look more like a smile. Truthfully, he can barely hear a word anyone is saying, the music coupled with his already damaged hearing making everything sound muffled. He just smiles and nods. 

They settle into a corner in the kitchen, he slots behind her, hands around her waist while she talks with her friends. He’s quick to throw back a few swigs of some non-descript liquor that’s littering the countertop, letting things mellow out just a bit in his mind as his throat burns with the gulps. The alcohol lets him slip away from it all, only anchored by the feeling of his hands on her hips. He’s pulled back to the present moment when she turns in his grasp, he leans down to let her speak into his ear.

“We’re gonna go dance, baby. Will you come dance with me?” He huffs.

“No, doll. You go dance. I’ll watch, yeah?” She frowns just slightly before leaving him with a chaste peck, turning and following her friends into the living room. Steve fills a red solo cup with something dark before shuffling after her, leaning up against a wall and watching her move into the crowd.

“Hey, man. That’s a sick jacket. Is it thrifted?” Steve’s attention is turned to a guy who’s fingering the American flag patch on his shoulder. He shrugs his hand off.

“Sorry, what?”

“Your jacket, bro. Is it vintage?” 

“Uh, no. It’s mine.” Steve can’t believe this guy, he’s only five years older than most of the people here for christ’s sake.

“Well, it’s real cool, man. Where’d you get a jacket like that?”

“The army.” The guy laughs. Steve’s losing his patience.

“No shit. Really? You in the army, bro?” Steve just nods, glancing away, trying to find her in the crowd.

His eyes finally land on her and his heart kicks up when he sees that she’s been cornered by some punk in a cowboy hat. He tries to keep his cool as he starts shoving through the crowd, but when he sees cowboy hat put his hand on her waist he goes livid. He turns the guy around by his shoulder and when he speaks it comes out in a loud bark that can definitely be heard over the music.

“Hey! Why don’t you keep your fucking hands to yourself, kid.” Cowboy hat scoffs.

“Why don’t you mind your own business, man. Just trying to take a pretty lady home for the night, is that such a crime?” Steve snaps, and before his brain can catch up, he’s tackling cowboy hat to the ground. A crowd has formed around the pair as they struggle against each other, but Steve gets the upper hand, landing several, crunching blows to the man’s face. He gives him one more jostle by the collar of his shirt before he stands, spitting blood out of the side of his mouth. 

The ringing in his ears finally dies down and he realizes that the music has stopped. Everyone has stopped to watch what just happened. He finally finds her eyes in the crowd and his stomach twists. Her jaw is slack and her eyes are wide. She looks shocked. Even worse, she looks scared. Steve feels like he’s going to throw up, seeing her look at him like that. He does the only thing he can think to do, shoving his way out of the crowd and out the front door, starting to walk off down the street in a bit of a haze.

He hears her calling his name but he doesn’t turn around, just keeps walking.

“Jesus christ, Steve. Will you stop? Or at least slow down? I’m in fucking heels.” He sighs, stopping in his tracks before turning around, keeping his eyes on his sneakers. She walks up to him, dipping to catch his gaze.

“You’re bleeding, baby. Will you come with me, please? Get you cleaned up?” 

“Why’d you follow me out?” She looks taken aback by his question.

“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?” Steve scoffs.

“I saw the way you were looking at me. Thought you finally figured out that I’m no good for you.” She sighs, tilting his chin with her knuckles to get him to finally look at her.

“Steve, I’m a big girl who can determine all on my own what is or isn’t good for me, ok? Now will you please come with me so we can get you taken care of?” Steve nods mutely, once again letting her lead the way, this time back to her dorm.

…

He’s never been in her room before. She has a single because she’s an RA, neat, if not a bit sparse. He sees the grad school pamphlets on her desk and something in him twists at the reality that she’ll most likely be moving away in just a few months. Onto much better things, he supposes. He stands in the doorway, watching as she slips off her heels in turn for a pair of flip flops before sliding a first aid kit out from under her bed. He quirks an eyebrow at her, but she just shrugs.

“Comes with the territory of looking after a bunch of college freshmen. Now let’s go get you fixed up, baby.”

She leads him to the floor’s bathroom and mercifully, it’s empty, everyone else still out getting sloshed. She motions for him to hop up on the counter, stepping between his legs and taking his chin in her hand to inspect his face. She hums.

“Just a cut lip and the start of a black eye. Didn’t realize Matthew got in any swings at you.” Steve grumbles.

“Don’t wanna talk about fucking Matthew.” She huffs at that, but continues her ministrations, dabbing at his lip and split knuckles with alcohol wipes. Her words come out as a murmur as she bandages his knuckles.

“Steve, I’m sorry I made you come out with me tonight. You told me you didn’t want to go and I pushed and I shouldn’t have.” He goes to speak but she shoots him a look that tells him to keep quiet. 

“But, this can’t keep happening. You promised me you’d work on this shit. I get that it’s hard for you, but it’s never gonna get better if you don’t try. Did you look into that VA psych center I told you about? They offer counseling that’d be practically free for you.” Steve grumbles.

“I don’t need some fucking shrink digging around in my head. Just gotta– I don’t know, try harder to not be so fucking stupid.” She squeezes his thighs.

“Hey. You’re not stupid, Steve. You’re a human who’s–”

“Doing his best. Yeah, yeah, miss therapy. Obviously not doing good enough for you though.” He regrets it the minute it leaves his mouth, sees the way her face falls at his words. She clears her throat.

“I’m just trying to help you, Steve. Fuck– I care about you, a lot.” She turns on her heel, bringing her hand to her forehead, Steve watches an exhale slacken her shoulders.

He slides off the counter, shuffling up behind her until his chest is pressed to her back, slipping his palms to splay across her stomach. She jumps at first, but settles into his grasp. She always does.

He rests his chin on her shoulder and sways them a bit side to side. She sighs, eyes closed.

“M’sorry, doll. I didn’t mean it. You know that, huh?” She brings her palms to slide along his forearms before twining their hands together.

“You never mean it, Stevie. But sometimes you can be so mean. I just wanna help you.” 

“I know, baby. You’re so good to me. So good for me. Don’t fucking deserve you. Tell you what, first thing Monday, I’ll call that VA center, ok? I promise.” He lands a kiss to her temple before burying his face in her neck. She hums at his words.

“But I think you like when I’m a little mean, don’t you?” He can’t help the sly grin that slides across his face and into her shoulder. He feels her shiver in his grasp.

“Uh-huh. Tell me, pretty, who’d you get all dressed up for tonight, hm?” He untangles their hands, letting his palms slide down her thighs before roughly catching the hem of her dress and rucking it up to her waist. She gasps, stumbling forward a bit and steadying herself by pressing her palms against the tiled wall. Steve keeps his hands on her waist, sliding them down to catch the band of her little black thong to snap it against the plush of her hip.

“You, Steve. It’s all for you.” He kicks her feet apart, spreading her wider for him as he kneels behind her, dragging her panties down with him. She goes to turn around but he lands a harsh smack to her ass, making her lurch forward again.

“You’re perfect just like this, pretty. Stay just like that. Daddy wants a taste.” Before she can protest he’s diving in, licking a salacious stripe through her folds. She whines as he gets to work, and Steve thinks for a flickering moment that he’s found one other thing he’s great at. Making his girl fall apart. He fucks her with his tongue and she reaches a hand back to grip onto his hair, grinding her hips onto his mouth. 

“That’s it, baby. Want one from you just like this. Want you to come on my tongue, can you do that for me?” She lets out a long sigh.

“Y-yes, daddy. Fuck– just don’t stop, please.” He lands a sharp smack to her ass before dipping back into her cunt.

Steve knows all her tells by now, the way her breath starts to catch, the little whimpers, the shake in her thighs. She lets out a broken cry when she comes, fingers digging into his hair, he groans under the pressure. Her head dips down, forehead resting against the tile. Steve slowly stands, keeping a firm hold of her waist when her knees start to buckle.

“I got you, baby. I got you. Did so good for me.” She lets out a long whine of his name and it makes his cock twitch in his jeans. 

He holds her steady, palm splayed along her stomach, pressing her back into him as he grinds into her ass. 

“S-Steve– someone might see– fuck!” He rolls his hips particularly hard into her.

“Is that right, doll? Well, they’d just see what a good little slut you are for me, yeah?” She whimpers when his teeth graze along her neck. He unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his throbbing cock, smearing pre-cum across her ass.

“You want me, right, baby? Tell daddy what you want.” She jerks back into him when he slides his cock between her folds.

“Want you, daddy. Want you to fuck me, p-please. I–” Steve thrusts into her in one harsh arc of his hips and she lets out a broken gasp. He gives her no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace that’s drawing little whimpers out of her with each press of his hips. The adrenaline and alcohol from earlier is finally catching up to Steve, and he needs her desperately.

“Fuck, baby. Little pussy’s made for me. Taking me so well. Just take it, doll. Be a good girl and take it.” His fingers are digging into the swell of her hips as he presses his chest to her back, hovering over her hunched figure. He slides one hand down her front to toy harshly with her clit, practically drawing a sob from her. She’s a babbling mess underneath him, letting out curses and cries of his name. Steve cranes his neck to get a look at her face, seeing tears glittering down her cheeks.

“You crying on my cock, pretty? S’just that good, huh?” She lets out a chant of the word “yes” to his question, too far gone in the pleasure and pain of it all to say much else.

“Come for me. Right fucking now. Come all over my cock, pretty.” She cries out, breaking off into a gasp as she pulses around his dick and Steve groans at the feeling. Steve’s not far behind, pressing his forehead between her shoulder blades as he grinds his hips as hard into her as he can, coming so deep in her she shivers at the feeling. 

He presses a kiss to the nape of her neck, shushing her whimpers as he pulls out.

“Y’alright, doll?” She sighs, turning around and leaning back against the wall as she shimmies the skirt of her dress back down around her thighs.

“Yeah, um, where’s my underwear though?” Steve scans the tiled floor, finding them off to the side where he must have tossed them. When he grabs them for her, he realizes that he had ripped right through them. She raises her eyebrows at him when she sees their shredded state.

“Steve, I can’t believe you–”

“S’fine, pretty. I’ll buy you a new pair, huh?”

…

They shower together in the shitty dorm bathroom. She gives him back a t-shirt and pair of sweats of his that she had stolen from his place a while ago, coaxing him into staying for the night. They curl around each other in her tiny dorm room bed and she takes to carding her fingers through his still damp hair. Steve would never admit it out loud, but it’s quickly become his favorite feeling in the world, having her hands in his hair. 

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re gonna hold to your promise, right? Gonna call the VA center on Monday?” Steve sighs and nods. She could ask him to chop off his hand and he’d probably do it right now, he’s so faded out from the light scratching of her nails on his scalp.

“Yes, baby. M’gonna call them, I promise.” She seems to accept his answer, letting out a sigh of her own.

“You know, I really meant what I said. I care about you so much, Steve.” He lifts his head from her chest, looking up at her.

“I know you do, doll. Christ, it’s only been a few months but– I– you– I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes soften as she brings her hand to stroke along the arch of his cheek. He feels like he’s going to melt.

“Oh, Steve. You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere, you’ve got me.” Steve presses a kiss to her sternum before settling back against her chest. She falls asleep before him, but he can’t seem to shake an incessant thought that plays on a loop in his mind. Not going anywhere, yet.

…

Steve wakes up early the next morning, trying to untangle himself from her without disturbing her sleeping form. She stirs next to him as he sits on the edge of her bed.

“Steve? It’s early, what’re you doing?” He brushes his palm down her bare arm before drawing it back up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Gotta go, pretty. My shift starts in half an hour.” She frowns slightly, sitting up and holding onto his hand.

“It’s two days, isn’t it?” He nods.

“That’s the price for having Halloween off every year.” They both sigh, taking in each other’s sleep-smudged figures.

“You’ll be careful, right?” He scoffs but she grips his thigh, giving him a squeeze that tells him she means business.

“Steve, please tell me you’ll be careful.” “Baby, I know what I’m doing. Besides, the likelihood of anything beyond a cat stuck in a tree or a faulty fire alarm in the next forty-eight hours is so low. I’ll probably just be sitting at the station for the next two days, watching grass grow.” Her frown deepens at his words and he surges forward to try to kiss it away. It doesn’t quite work.

“It just freaks me out sometimes. One day you’re with me and the next you’re on shift and I don’t know if it’s been a good or bad one until the next time I see you. And then I start worrying about if there’s gonna be a next time and—”

“Woah, woah. I’m a firefighter, pretty, not a fucking navy seal. Look, I’m gonna promise you two things. First, I promise that I’m gonna call that goddamn VA center on Monday.” This earns him a slight smile.

“And second, I promise you that as long as I can help it, there’s gonna be a next time, ok?” She huffs, not seeming totally convinced. Steve cups her face in both his palms.

“And, I guess I’ll be careful, for you.” He seals his words with a chaste kiss which she chases after, deepening in a way that makes his brain go fuzzy. He finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I really gotta go, doll. I’ll see you soon.” She offers him a smile.

“Until next time, Steve.”

[fairly-fairy-shampoo]

“In Every Universe”

☀️Summary: Everything about your situationship with Yeonjun seemed perfect. There were no rules, no romantic feelings, and you stayed friends. But when jealousy leads to a falling out between the two of you, Yeonjun is forced to look inward and reevaluate his feeling for you as well was what kind of relationship he wants with you. The question is, are his feeling more powerful then fate?

genre: NSFW, FLUFF, ANGST

pairing: yeonjun × fem!reader × Soobin

Warnings: none

Chapter 3

Yeonjun does not consider himself a jealous or possessive person. He’s what you would call a “flirt”. Sometimes he would act on it but mostly he just enjoyed the interactions and attention. He thrives on it. And it makes sense with the company he keeps outside of his members and others from his company. You were the same. It was how you met actually, a few years back. YOU both talk …. A LOT! And he really enjoyed the sense of comfort you exuded in him right away. He will admit, he was a little shit back then. Top trainee, handsome, getting constant praise from all. He found you cute and fun to be around and enjoyed how you sprung to “match his energy.” Another thing was your physical touch. You were so open to it and the more the two of you became close, the more it became so natural and platonic– until it wasn’t.

But still, he wasn’t (not) a possessive person.

After you got older, he met and got with people and you did the same. You would share your experiences with each other and cringe or enjoy the stories and go on about your day like normal. It’s never set him off. NEVER. Why would it? You’re not his girlfriend. You’re his best friend. But he’d be lying if seeing you with Jackson FUCKING Wang didn’t make his stomach curl JUST a bit.

Now, if it was just normal talking there would be no issue, there’s a lot of idols and celebrities around. But the way he had you leaning on the wall so you had to look up at him (the innocent doe eye fuck me look!) and his hand seemed to have fallen to hold your waist and he’s whispering in your ear, having you giggle about god knows what he said. Have you fucked with him before this? He wanted to go over there more than anything and stake his claim. But he’s a idol first, he can’t act out like that, ESPECIALLY not to a superior as famous as Jackson fucking Wang. But don’t you know better? HE’S a man-whore, why him? Sure, Yeonjun could be considered the same thing, but he didn’t constantly fuck around, especially not with A list celebs and idols. It’s too complicated so you’re the only one. But he’d be lying if his first choice was to sleep around with “normal people” (you hated when he said that) so in that sense yeah, he was he guesses, but Jackson was so bold and open about it that it boiled his blood.

He truly had no right to feel this way. You weren’t his girlfriend, you didn’t date, but rather slept together here and there. And you did have the rule that you could be with other people. It all started when you lost your virginity to each other back when you were teenagers. And from there, it was a comfortable, safe space for anything between the two of YOU.

If only he’d known at the time that changing the dynamics between you two and acting like nothing changed would open up a world of problems. Since the the two of you would frequently hang out and debrief with much excitement and little to no jealousy as well as no shaming. Which was a big one for you. He didn’t know it then but he was going to break that promise. But, at this moment, he didn’t know how to feel. He knew he was angry but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. Deep down he did. But right now, the only thing that he wanted was to punch out Jackson FUCKING Wang! For touching his ….. for touching you! And making you uncomfortable. She pushed herself away from the wall and headed towards him. Yeonjun was so livid he didn’t even notice her saunter over to him. Pretending to get herself another drink, she inches closer to him so she could whisper.

“Junie come on, let’s go!” Your hushed tone snapped him back to reality. Your eyes sneakily meet his but he fully turned to face you, staring you down which startled you quite a bit. You looked around, hoping no one would notice.

“Where to.” He said in an unreadable tone.

“Jackson is holding an after party and we’re both invited! So let’s go, I’m getting bored and people are starting to leave anyway.”

You start to head for the door, knowing that he should wait a few seconds to follow after so no one gets suspicious. You’d have to take separate cars anyways. Is that why you were talking with him and flirting– to secure entry to the after party? But he’s Choi Yeonjun! The Ace of Hybe. 4th Gen It boy. The list goes on and on. So why? He finally waited long enough and made his way out. He prays he’s right. Cause he can feel something bubbling and doesn’t know if he can hold back if he’s wrong.

~Previous- Master list -Next ~

[peanutbutterwrites]

My Good Looking Boy - Part Three

warnings for series: angst, struggles with self worth and self esteem, issues with appearance, childhood trauma, and mentions of death and murder.

summary: taking place after the southern raiders, zuko and katara finally learn to understand each other a bit more and long held on to feelings come to the surface. the gaang go and watch the ember island play and chaos ensues with katara's feelings.

part one - part two - part three - part four

authors note: hey guys! I know this one took a fat minute, sorry about that. I was really struggling on how to end this part as there's another big part of the story that plays on the theme of zuko struggling in his self esteem, and it was really long if i did include it and really short if i didn't. in the end, i decided to leave that to part four which i promise will have a much shorter wait since i'm almost happy with it. anyways, as always feel free to let me know what you think in the comments and enjoy!

word count: 1.1k

Katara awoke the next morning curled up in the red sheets, tucked in nicely. She didn’t remember getting into bed, but her clothes from the night before were still fully on and angry red imprints were becoming apparent from the flowy fabric from pressing into her skin all night. Groaning slightly, she uncurled herself from under the fabrics and began getting ready for the day. She was still in bed, brushing her hair when the door swung open.

“Morning Katara!” She tensed up slightly, but tried to relax as Aang and Momo made their way into the room, Momo perched on Aang’s right shoulder and a tray in his arms. “I know the play was kind of ridiculous, so I thought a nice breakfast would help.” He smiled wide, and Katara blinked back at him in surprise. 

“Wow, Aang you didn’t need to.” Dropping the brush down onto the bed sheets, she turned her body in order to accept the tray full of fruits and nuts and sent him a happy smile.

“I know it's not much, but it was what was left in the kitchen.” He spoke shyly, scratching the back of his head with a light dusting of blush on his cheeks. Katara blinked back again,

“What was left? Do we have no more food?”

“Not really, I swear I’ll make you a better breakfast when this war is over.” 

“Well, that was very thoughtful. Thank you, Aaang.” He smiled at her and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Katara hesitantly dug into her healthy breakfast and the two fell into somewhat of an awkward silence. “You know,” he trailed off, “I kinda wanted to talk to you about something. You awake enough?” Chewing quickly, Katara shook herself slightly to wake up.

“Yeah of course, what did you need?” Putting the silverware down carefully, she moved the tray to the side prepared to give him her full attention. 

“Well, I just wanted to talk about, us.” She froze. No, this is not what I think it is. 

“Oh okay, what's wrong? I thought we were doing just fine in our friendship.” She gulped down the nausea hitting her, trying to calm the unease filling her stomach.

“That’s just it Katara, I want more than friendship. I Thought after the kiss…”

“You thought what, Aang.” She snapped, though it came out more harshly than she intended. 

“I just, well I thought we’d be together, but we’re not.”

“Don’t you think we have other things to worry about? It's just not the right time. There is a war going on out there Aang, people are dying.” 

“When is the right time!” He quipped, clearly letting his frustration be apparent. “You know how frustrating that play was to watch? It made me so angry!” 

“Really? That made you so angry, Aang? Not the lives being affected by this war?”

“Oh come on, you know that I worry about the world! That's not fair!” 

“Then why does some stupid play have such an effect on you!”

“Because, why am I like a little brother! Why do you feel that way?” he shouted, panting as Momo scampered out of the room. Katara just sighed and shifted towards him.

“Look, Aang. That play isn’t my feelings, it's some silly fantasy the fire nation came up with. Don’t let it affect you so much.” She said, feeling a little guilty chastising him when the play clearly had an effect on her as well. 

“S’not?” He mumbled back. 

“No, Aang.” She said while giving him a tentative smile. He smiled back at her, a little less bright than earlier but still sincere.

“So, you like me too?” Katara sighed. 

“I don’t know Aang, I'm just a little…confused.” They sat in silence for a little bit while Katara frowned, What is it that is holding me back? 

“Well, maybe this will help.” Before she had time to react, she felt lips pressing to hers and her eyes widened in shock. 

“Aang,” she whispered, moving away, “I said I was confused. That means I need some time and space to figure my own feelings out. Please, leave Aang.” He frowned and began to argue back. “I asked nicely Aang, now please leave.” He hung his head and made his way towards the door to leave. Pausing he looked back at her. 

“Just think about it.” Gripping her elbows, she turned her head to look out the balcony and didn’t entertain a reply. Once she heard the quiet click of the door closing, she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Why was everything so messed up now?

After such an eventful morning, Katara wanted to take the day to relax and focus on things besides hope and housework. She knew she needed time to reflect and she always did her thinking when she was in her element, literally. Deciding to use the morning for some water bending practice, she made her way out to sea where she knew she wouldn’t be bothered. The others used the courtyard of the summer home for bending practice, so as long as she stayed on this side of the private beach she shouldn’t be bothered by anyone, friend or foe. She began with meditation to help with the push and pull of the water, breathing deep and closing her eyes, she began to focus on the waves. However, it wasn’t long before her mind seemed to wander even though she desperately tussled with it to go back to focussing. I know he doesn’t feel like a little brother, but he doesn’t feel like a friend either. Does that mean I do have feelings for him? Why can’t this be straight forward?“Gah!” she huffed in irritation, causing the sea to stutter in its own waves. Katara was used to arguing out other people’s true feelings, why was it so hard to get it out of herself? Also frustrated that she couldn’t keep her mind straight enough to meditate and focus, she couldn’t help but feel her whole trek out here was a waste of time. I can’t let this get to me. Resolving to focus on other things, Katara made her way back to the summer home and got back to work on what needed to be completed today.

[discowingneckline]

reasons i hate rhato pt1

this pertains to v1 #1, so expect more at some point when i can stomach looking at it again. this is exactly what the title says. hey, do you like rhato? great, fuck off and don't read something that is going to upset you. i don't care what your good opinions are of this. the run sucks, and it deprives almost every other character of their personality for the sake of jason's character.

why does jason not have clothes on? why is his stupid little cute jacket not on him? why didn’t anyone give him underwear? if there’s clothes for kory, there must be clothes for him! if kory took off his clothes, it makes little sense why she wouldn’t put some on him where he isn’t injured at the very least. 

why didn’t kory keep his gun farther away from jason, and also why wouldn’t a seasoned hero at the very least not take the bullets out of his gun like be so for real. she clearly doesn’t recognize him here (for some fucking reason)

why does kory look at jason and think of her and dick post sexy times?? why do you fucking think the first thing on her mind for memory is that shit? fucking weirdo.

also why is kory so white-looking? fucking weirdo. why is she stick thin?

i don’t like the relationship here of dick and jason. i am a jason todd is a nice good robin. like yeah a bit of attitude but um…ew

also why is kory here in the first place and living like this? she is a woman of class, thank you very much.

if kory had “male clothes” the entire time, back to a previous point, why didn’t she put them on jason (since she already took off his clothes to treat him) or at least keep them near jason for when he would wake up? it’s giving that scott lobdell just wanted excuses to have jason nude for like all of this issue and to dumb kory down to be super sexual. 

also kory’s proportions are so weird and off. and also, let’s be so for real, they took away her curves and like body fat? like she was super strong, buff, hot before man. what the fuck.

“they appear to be the correct size” which one? the robin suit? the nightwing suit? which nightwing suit? also this is giving, based on previous panels, “jason has to face his horrible brother’s suit and take his mantle, but this time (super edgy shit) he makes it his own!” get a fucking grip.

the amount of jason calling kory “orange” when he knows her name and her title!! it’s giving fucking racist behavior. and it’s just rude. he literally got called out about it a second ago and he made this huge apology, just to do the same shit repeatedly again. speaking of that, comparing her to something from national geographic is giving…dehumanization. 

where did kory get these clothes? how long has she been where she is? what the fuck. also, not that kory wouldn’t wear stuff like that, but?? i don’t see why she has so many changes of clothes that are almost carbon copies of the same shit. 

what is that flashback she has with nightwing and arsenal? first off, what the hell is that roy? second off, why is kory’s body shaped like that? also this suit of her’s sucks. worst i’ve seen ever. my irl friend also complained about nightwing’s shoulders and the overall anatomy of the art. said it was shit.

why is jason handling guns and weapons with no shirt on? why are they so set on not giving this man clothes?

“she obviously loved dick grayson—almost as intently as i hated him” be so fucking for real right now. get a fucking grip. is this where the bulk of “bad sibling dick grayson” comes from for jason todd fics? because lmao be so for real.

what is jason’s anatomy this page specifically? what the fuck is it?

oh my fucking god. why does kory go to kiss jason?? in the water?? at night?? at fucking all? like kory isn’t shy with her sexuality, but jfc. you’re trying to tell me after she was so hung up about nightwing (??) that she just throws herself to whatever man is available? be so for real. she has fucking standards, and jason todd will never meet them. it’s giving that someone (scott lobdell) had a thing for a character (kory) and was using a self-insert (jason todd) to get that. 

also what is with all of her thigh gaps?? give my princess her body back please holy shit.

…i read more, and what the hell is: “it is one of the ways my people assimilate language, knowledge—you said you wanted to talk, i only assumed…” kory was literally talking to him for several days in english. why the fuck would she kiss him? again, makes no sense. you’re making a very intelligent woman fucking stupid so jason can seem cool and smart and desired. it’s gross. 

…why does kory’s power look like that? um…ew.

“sometimes they are crazed vigilantes pretending to love us like a son” be so fucking for real. as though jason and bruce didn’t have a decent relationship at the bare minimum. also?? what the literal fuck is “pretending to love us like a son” bruce does love jason, and of course dick as well. perhaps he isn’t always the best at showing it, but he does. and if this is another jab about bruce not killing the joker? literally get off of it. that is not fair for jason to say shit like that. it goes against everything bruce has ever stood for since he was a child, and it’s insane to expect bruce to do whatever jason wants when jason is going out killing a ton of people and overall just being a piece of shit.

why is jason talking about friendship and romance when it pertains to kory?? be so fucking for real. i do not believe for a second that kory would get with jason after their talk if jason truly talked to her about everything (because she would know that she was/is in love with dick, and i don’t take her for being someone who would throw herself at his brother). 

…i wonder what “qurac” would possibly be a stand in for. also why would roy harper just be sitting and taking that? also why is it just jason who is going out to get roy and not, oh i don’t know?? his fucking family??

if you guys want to see the panels from the points i gave, just let me know and i will reblog with them included.

[baezen]

lieutenant smoulder [08/15]

pairing: bucky barnes x reader word count: 2258 warnings: mentions of periods/menstrual cycles, allusion to pregnancy, a bombshell of a secret, angst

prompt: “i was made for you”

summary: in which they put aside any previous issues to tackle the next obstacle

author’s note: wow, been a minute, huh?

glow | lieutenant smoulder | inferno

Y/N hated that she’d noticed, but the couple of times where she’s stayed at Bucky’s the previous night, he’d left in a rush. She also hated that she knew this morning he’d slept in and hadn’t gone anywhere.

Pushing that aside, she got up and threw his t-shirt over her head so she could make breakfast. Flicking the radio on to hear some catchy pop song and opening a window to let some fresh air in.

Their shift started in just over an hour, so she brewed up a pot of coffee and started making some bacon and eggs. She was starving, and knew leftover birthday cake wasn’t a substantial enough breakfast.

She wasn’t sure how long Bucky had been awake and watching her dance around the kitchen, but he seemed to be enjoying the show.

“Uh, I made food,” she said, gesturing to the plates on the counter in front of her.

He thanked her with a brief kiss and sat up at the breakfast bar to eat. She slid a mug of coffee over to him and picked at the last of her eggs.

“I need a shower before work,” she announced.

“I’ll let myself out,” he told her. “Thanks for breakfast.”

She slipped out of his shirt and left it on the counter beside him, well aware he was watching her as she walked to the bathroom. 

+++

Y/N couldn’t explain it, but she’d felt something shift. Her relationship with Bucky – if you could call it such – had changed and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. There was something he was hiding and she didn’t like the jealous feeling that sat in the pit of her stomach.

“You any good at poker?” Romanoff asked as Y/N joined the crew in the mess.

She’d been busy in the gym for the past hour, trying to work her frustrations out in a more productive way. Freshly showered and ready for a quiet evening after a couple of calls throughout the afternoon. There hadn’t been anything major, so everyone was busy lounging around and enjoying the downtime.

Romanoff, Barnes, Wilson, Hill and Banner were playing poker. Someone was making dinner, but she forgot who’s night it was.

“Eh, I’ve played before,” she confessed. “Not sure if I’m any good, though.”

Romanoff dealt her in and she took a seat beside Banner, opposite Hill.

The basics were explained to her as they played a dummy round, just so she could get the hang of everything. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but they were betting peanuts rather than money, so she didn’t care if she won or lost. 

Bruce was quite obviously good, but it was Romanoff and Barnes’ poker faces that threw Y/N a bit. Hill looked like she’s rather be anywhere else but playing, and Wilson kept the banter high. He did his best to make the stone cold duo crack, and while Barnes did occasionally laugh, he was right back to being unreadable.

Y/N had seen that face the previous two mornings when he’d left without so much as a reason. She tried not to let it bother her, but it did, and she wasn’t sure why. 

“Hey, you’ve been kind of off for the last couple weeks. Everything okay?” Romanoff asked. It’d been a while since she’d found herself alone in the red-head’s company, but as they stripped the linen from the beds to do laundry, Y/N almost appreciated the check-in. 

“Yeah, just have a bit on my mind, is all,” she admitted half-heartedly.

“Doesn’t have anything to do with the guy who left the gnarly bruise on your neck after your birthday, does it?”

Y/N laughed as she folded the fitted sheet around the bed in front of her. “It plays a small part, I guess.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Natasha left the question hanging in the air between them, letting Y/N decide whether she wanted to chat or not. After a while, once the bed Y/N had been remaking was finished, she sighed. 

“I think he’s hiding something from me,” she admitted. “He’s always quick to make an exit and constantly telling me he’s having dinner with his Mom, or they get coffee every morning, blah blah. I just can’t help but feel like he’s lying about something.”

Natasha hummed. “Have you asked him about it?”

“We don’t have that kind of relationship,” she said. “I don’t want to come across as jealous or possessive, but if there’s someone else, I’d like to know, you know?”

“Do you want my advice or do you just want to vent?”

“Advice.”

“I think it’s wise to confront him. If it’s just sex between the two of you, you have a right to know if he’s sleeping around with other women. If it was me, I wouldn’t want to see him if he didn’t wear protection. But on the other hand, maybe he is being honest. He could just be a total Mama’s boy.”

Y/N snorted in laughter. “You want to know the kicker, Nat?”

“Hit me,”

“We didn’t use a condom once, and ever since, he’s been insistent on using them,” Y/N said. “And I didn’t fight it, just because I don’t want some other woman’s STD. Last time we had this arrangement neither of us even thought about condoms. That’s what makes me think there’s someone else.”

“It sounds like you need to decide if you want to keep having sex with him, or sit him down and find out what he isn’t telling you,” Natasha said. “If it was me…I wouldn’t have sex with him again until he told me.”

“He’s been busy these last couple weeks,” Y/N said. “Since my birthday…he’s been weird. ‘We can’t see each other tonight, I’m out of town,’ or ‘I can be there in three hours.’ Like, if you don’t want to keep this going then just tell me. I’m a big girl, I can handle it. I just feel like I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not going crazy,” Natasha assured her. “He’s making excuses.”

“And if he is sleeping with other women, do I want him in my bed three hours after he’s likely been in her bed?”

“He sounds like trouble.”

You have no idea.

Y/N sighed, running a hand over her face. “Too much trouble for it to just be sex, right?”

“I didn’t say that,” she replied. “Only you know what you want the outcome to be. Just have to decide whether confronting him about his lies is worth losing the thing you have if you don’t like the answer.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Nat.”

Y/N hauled a bag of washing down to the laundry room, needing a moment of silence to think things through. Natasha had a look about her, something she couldn’t quite read. Like she knew something Y/N didn’t, or maybe she was truly clueless and was trying to imagine herself in Y/N’s shoes.

“There’s more going on, isn’t there?” Natasha asked.

As she entered the laundry room with another bag of washing, she found Y/N leaning against the machine with her head lowered.

“I’m late, Nat. Him being weird about the condoms and his general behavior lately…I feel sick.”

Natasha didn’t get a chance to reply, because Wilson was hollering that dinner was ready. She gave Y/N a sympathetic look, but didn’t press the issue as she started angrily throwing sheets into one of the machines. Simply placing a friendly hand on her shoulder and leaving her alone. 

Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t shed a couple tears, but she was quick to gather herself before plastering on a happy face and joining the team for dinner. Sam had made one of his family’s recipes, and the smell alone made her salivate.

Even if the thought of eating anything made her sick to her stomach.

She dished herself up a small plate, but grabbed a bottle of water as well. Taking a seat beside Bruce, far away from Bucky. Aware that the motion didn’t go undetected from the latter, but forcing herself to eat despite not feeling hungry.

+++

A quiet night was needed, but it wasn’t likely. The siren rang out a little after nine – a candle had caught the shower curtain alight while its owner fell asleep in the bathtub. They required some minor medical attention, and the bathroom was worse for wear, but they’d be okay. It was a good outcome all things considered. 

Y/N was getting a bottle of water from the kitchen when Bucky cornered her. She’d been avoiding him and it was obvious he was here to address that. Even if he had waited until the shift was almost over, while everyone else was asleep in the bunk room. 

“What crawled up your ass and died?” He asked. 

Sure, he could’ve gone about it better, but this was the safest way to communicate. Snippy comments and sarcastic remarks were her M.O. He was trying to make her comfortable to have this conversation while at work.

“Not in the mood today, Barnes,” she replied with a sigh.

He took a moment to stare her down, really look at her. It’d been a couple days since he’d stayed over after her birthday, but she looked exhausted. Dark circles had made themselves at home under her eyes, her brows seemed to be set in a permanent frown, and her attitude had been less than that of a team-player.

While Y/N was still alternating who took the lead on calls, she’d barely spoken to him unless absolutely necessary. Even his smart-ass jabs hadn’t been enough to warrant a retort. 

“Anything I can help with?” He pressed. 

“You’ve done enough,” she stated, letting the words settle between them. 

“So you’re mad at me? That’s new.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he turned away.

“Get fucked, Barnes.”

“Are you on your period or something?” He snapped. “Because you’re never this much of a cunt without good reason.”

“Fuck you,” she spat. “I’m allowed to be pissed off without anyone questioning my menstrual cycle. But between you and me? I’m late.”

She was glad she whispered the last part, because it really drove home her point. His eyes widened ever-so-slightly, mouth opening to say something but ultimately deciding against it.

“I’ll pee on a damn stick within the hour. I don’t need you to hold my hand. I don’t need you to do anything, except leave me the fuck alone. Are we clear?”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The first tear fell before she had the chance to swipe it away, and he was quick to wrap his arms around her.

“Let me go.”

“I can’t do that,” he replied, holding her tight as her tears began to soak his shirt. She hated feeling weak, but she hated it even more than he was the one seeing her like this. That he had played a potential role in this situation. “It could just be late.”

“Stop talking,” she shushed him, not wanting to hear any words of comfort from him. The thought had already crossed her mind, but her cycle was like clockwork. She were late, it was as simple as that. 

When the siren blared out, she pulled away from him and quickly wiped her face as she raced to the gear room, listening to where the call was coming from. Her heart sank to the pit of your stomach as she pulled on her turnouts, watching everyone else doing the same.

“That’s a school,” someone said. She honestly had no idea who said it because she was climbing into the rig and putting on her best game face. 

Barnes took his seat opposite her, his face riddled with worry as Captain Wilson relayed the information of the call.

“Fire alarm is going off at an elementary school. No news yet where the fire is, but most of the school has been evacuated. There will be parents going crazy trying to find their kids since it’s about time for school drop-off. We do not need them playing the hero and running into a burning building, copy?”

There was a chorus of ‘yes, sir’s that rang out, but Y/N’s eyes were locked on Bucky. Bucky, who usually kept his face blank when calls like this came in. Bucky, who would joke and keep morale up, was eerily quiet.

It worried her.

When they arrived at the school, she looked at him to run point.

He had eyes for no one but her.

“I need you to take this call, Y/L/N,” he said, voice thick and gravelly. He looked spooked. “I can’t go in there.”

“What? Barnes, it’s all hands on deck! Get your fucking head in the game!” She snapped.

“You’re running point because my son is in there!” He yelled back, running a hand over his face. “Please, my son is in there.”

She squared her shoulders, pushing aside any fear she had. Any doubt she had behind why he’d frozen. 

He had a son. A son he’d literally only just told her about. A son. 

“I’ve got him, Barnes,” she assured him, holding out her fist. He needed to bump it – it was good luck. A promise. She would do everything she could to make sure his boy was safe.

When his fist touched hers, she nodded and turned to face her team. 

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Paper Moon: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: A case brings you back to someone you let go once before. Now, you have a decision to make: let her go again or kill her. Whatever option that will piss the Winchesters off, right?

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

You're turning the small room you dedicated to yourself into something you might be permanently in. Who knows how long you'll be like this or if it will last forever? If it does, then you're never sleeping in your shared room with Dean ever again. You've just got back from shopping so you're putting your new clothes away. The door to your room opens and you don't have to look to know who it is.

"Hi," he says.

"I was wondering when you were gonna come talk to me," you smirk and look at your husband.

"I heard the rumors. I wanted to know if it was true."

"If what was true?" You grab the small pile of folded pants and place them neatly into your dresser drawers. "That I finally knocked some sense into me and saw you for who you really are? A man who has Daddy issues, abandonment issues, and is an all-around-dick kind of a guy? Then yes, the rumors are true."

This isn't real, Dean. She's not herself. This isn't the real her. Don't let her know her words hurt.

Dean reminds himself that you're a shell of the woman he loves, so he takes a deep breath to calm himself.

"I remember everything." You grab two shirts and hang them in your closet. "I want to know if you meant what you said."

"You're gonna have to refresh my memory. I said a lot of things."

The smile on your face tells him you know exactly what he's talking about.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't. Please remind me. What did I say?"

Dean hates that he has to repeat your words, but you're not going to make this easy on him.

"That I'm such a shitty person, husband, father. How our kids are happier without me in their life? Ring a bell?"

"Yeah, I knew what you were talking about," you giggle. "I just wanted to hear you say it." Dean glares at you which brings you joy. He has to remind himself yet again to not give you a reaction. That's all you're after. If he gives you that, he's only going to get hurt. You grab your new underwear and place them inside one of the drawers of your dresser. "Look, I meant every word. Everyone around you dies so that also makes you a shitty hunter." He has a stoic look on his face but you can see the tears in his eyes. "I'm not trying to be mean, I'm only stating facts."

You finish putting away your clothes and are about to pass by him to leave your room when he pulls something from his pocket. He holds the item in front of him so you both can see what it is.

"I found this in my room."

You look down at your shiny wedding ring that you put in his duffel bag a few days ago.

"Am I supposed to be on the floor in tears for throwing that away?"

"You don't have to be that dramatic, but a little emotion wouldn't hurt."

You step closer to Dean and slide your hands over his body starting at his stomach. You move your hands up his chest and your arms around his neck so you can pull him closer. You lean your face in closer to his seductively. He closes his eyes thinking you're going to kiss him but you move past his lips and to his ear.

"Listen closely because I'm only gonna say this once. Whatever feelings I've had for you are gone. They do not exist. You mean nothing to me, and when I say that, I fucking mean it. You could drop dead at this fucking second and I'd step over your body and move on with my life. Don't think for a second that I'd trade my life for yours because I do not love you. I'm not in love with you, I do not think about you, and you're the least of my concerns. Do with that what you will."

You shove him away from you and leave him to think about your words alone. Without you there to see him, he silently cries. He clenches his jaw to keep himself from full-on sobbing but the tears still stream down. He's not sure what happened to you or why you're like this, but hearing those words come from your mouth is gut-wrenching.

He forces that heartbreak down and wipes his face until it looks like he hasn't been crying. He leaves your room in search of his brother. Sam is in the library doing something on his laptop when Dean enters. They've been taking a break while Dean heals from his time as a demon, but enough is enough.

"Hey, I got you your fav--" Sam looks up and sees a look of hurt across Dean's face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Where are my kids? Where are my dogs?"

This is the part Sam's been dreading. He knew Dean would ask sooner or later, and he hadn't prepared a better answer for himself.

"I don't know," Sam winces.

"What the fuck do you mean, I don't know?"

"They're safe. That's all I know, okay?"

"Are you serious, Sam? You don't know where my kids are?!"

"Look, do you really want them around right now? Do you think they'd be safe with Y/N the way she is?"

Sam's right. Sam is always fucking right. If you speak to your own husband like that, imagine how you'd treat your own kids.

"You're right, but I'd still like to know where they are."

"Do you?" Sam raises his eyebrows. "What do you think Y/N would do if she knew where they were? She could use them against us. She knows we'd do anything to protect them. Right now, they're safe and that's all that matters."

God, he can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

Dean rolls his eyes and lets the topic go for now. He pulls out a chair and grabs the newspaper Sam was reading not too long ago. He comes across an article about a murder with the heart eaten right out of the chest.

"Hey, did you see this story?"

"Maybe it was an animal kill," Sam says and continues to type.

"It was three kills, and it was in the same town all within the last month."

"Yeah, you're right. We should call some guys and have them fix it."

"Good. Smart," Dean nods. "Or we could do it. We'd be in and out. It's a milk run."

"When is that ever the case for us," Sam sighs.

"Listen, I appreciate us hanging out and doing brother stuff together, but I need to work. I need this."

Sam thinks about his words and the situation before giving in.

"If things go sideways... I mean, like an inch, you gotta give me the heads-up."

"Done. You got my word."

"When do we leave?" Both brothers turn to see you in the archway between the war room and the library. "What? It's getting boring here." Sam and Dean aren't thrilled to bring you along on a hunt, but any hunt means there will be death. Death means there will be chaos. Chaos is exactly what you're craving right now. "I'm already packed and ready to go. I'll meet you in the car."

"This is going to be a long week," Dean sighs.

It takes an entire day to get to King's County, Washington which you weren't too fond of taking. Especially if you're locked inside with both brothers yapping in your ear the entire time. You get out of the car to stretch your legs when your stiff shirt scratches at your neck.

"Tell me why I'm wearing this shit?" you complain as you walk to the station.

You and the brothers are wearing dark brown slacks with a forest green shirt tucked underneath the waist of the pants. You look like forest rangers if you had to guess.

"Hey, if you want to hunt with us, that's fine. You gotta look the part so that means keep your mouth shut and let us do the talking," Dean snaps at you.

You three walk into the police station where the sheriff greets you. Dean hands over his badge while Sam simply flashes it. You stay behind them and let them do the talking.

"Gentleman and lady. We're damn glad to see you," the sheriff says and hands Dean his badge back. "You three must come up on stuff like this all the time."

"Oh yeah," Sam and Dean nod.

"Hell, I've seen raccoons in rec rooms and bears in swimming pools, but this? You tell me."

"Yeah," Dean nods. The sheriff looks at him expecting a story of something crazier and Dean blushes slightly under the spotlight. "Oh, you know, where do we start? Logging."

"Ice caps," Sam chimes in.

"Bitcoin... Obama."

The sheriff stares at him in suspicion, and you snicker at how dumb they're both being. Dean turns and glares at you while Sam changes the topic.

"You know what? Maybe you could walk us through the attacks. Any similarities or anything weird you noticed?"

"The only weird thing about them was how similar they were. Those folks were torn clean through with their hearts gone."

"Gone as in...?"

"Consumed, most likely."

"We're there any witnesses?"

"The first two attacks were really late at night, but the one at the bar had a ton of witnesses. You'd think with it being jam-packed, there would be more witnesses than Tommy."

"What did he see?" Dean asks.

"Honestly, not much. Tommy ain't exactly what we call a reliable witness, and he's telling anybody who'll listen he saw some girl go out back with Barker, and she got torn up, too."

"So, there was a second victim?"

"I doubt it because Tommy's a drunk. There's no body, no DNA, no blood trail, and nothing to suggest another victim." A deputy walks up to the sheriff and taps on his shoulder. "Give me one second."

"Hearts missing sounds wolfy to me," Dean says once the two officers are gone.

"Yeah. It's pretty brazen, even for a werewolf."

"Do you think it was the girl?"

"Let's find out."

Tommy is the only witness to have seen something, and you knew he was going to be at the bar where the last attack took place. It isn't hard to pick him out of a crowd of people. He looks disheveled like he hasn't taken a shower in weeks, and his teeth are stained from the many alcoholic drinks he's had. Sam and Dean immediately talk to him while you go to the bar counter to order yourself a drink.

Once you have your favorite drink in hand, you walk back over to the brothers who are in the middle of a conversation with Tommy. 

x

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[squishyneet]

♥*♡ SUNLIT DAYS PART 2 ∞:｡ itachi uchiha *. * ·

tw: medical neglect, emotional abuse/neglect, stomach pain, asthma, constipation, brief mention of vomiting, fatigue, body aches and pains, withholding medication

Itachi is eleven years old. He's having an asthma attack in class and doesn't tell anyone because he knows there is no medicine waiting for him in the nurse's office.

The doctor had told his mother to take him for an asthma test when they last visited, on account of his history of breathing issues. But for whatever reason, she never spoke of it again after they left.

So Itachi sits in class, struggling to breathe as he tries to focus on his work for the time being. He knew that to keep medication at school, you needed documentation and permission from your parents. He didn't have either.

"You should have told someone!" Mikoto shouted at him when he came home. "You could have gotten a painkiller or something!"

'Like that would have helped.' Itachi thought. "I needed an inhaler," he said flatly.

Mikoto takes a deep breath to calm herself. "I don't want you taking that thing. It's not good for you," she says, eyes closed and pinching her nose bridge.

_

Itachi is twelve years old and he needs to update his medical information for school with a physical.

"I've never gone to a physical before . . ." Itachi remarks quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous, you've gone to a physical before," Mikoto snaps, taking his hand as they walk into the office.

Itachi racks his brain but he really doesn't remember. It seemed the only times he ever went to the doctor was when he got sick and needed medicine.

_

Itachi is thirteen years old and is suffering immense stomach pain 24/7. He carries a hot water bag constantly, pressing it to his abdomen despite the high heat. He can only bear to sit or lie down because moving might exacerbate his pain. He can hardly eat without the risk of this burning sensation.

He's been staying home from school as much as he can get away with, choosing either to lie still and watch his favorite anime while trying to manage the pain or sleep it off and hope it will subside.

Mikoto does not take him to a doctor, instead giving him home remedies she believes might help. Itachi vomits shortly after drinking her hot lemon water, something that only irritated her further.

_

Itachi is nineteen years old and has a swollen, painful abdomen.

A trip to the ER for some tests tells him and his parents that he is merely constipated, but he should take the stool relaxer which was prescribed to him. He goes home that night with his paperwork that sat on the table, untouched by anyone but him.

"What prescription?" Mikoto gasped the next day when Itachi inquired about his medication. "There wasn't a prescription!"

"Yes, there was."

The argument only lasted for a few minutes, but somehow ended with Mikoto trying to convince Itachi that one prescription was simply too much.

"You want all that medication!?"

Itachi had no words. He had no license or car to acquire the medication himself. And the people who did were unwilling to help him.

He did eventually cure his constipation, only after drastically increasing his water and fiber intake and massaging as often as he could.

_

Itachi is twenty years old and even daily movement causes him great pain. He is fatigued nearly every day, his joints hurt, and his muscles develop strange, random pains from daily use.

"Are you exercising, 'Tachi?" Shisui asks him when he visits, worry apparent.

"Well, not really," Itachi responded, not making eye contact and typing away at his laptop.

"Are you even leaving the house? Do you go outside?"

"Not that much, I'm not used to going outside."

"Do you sit most of the time at home?"

"Yeah . . . My classes are online." Itachi stared at Shisui, who looks away, brows knitted, pondering just how long Itachi had been silently suffering.

[butididntpourthewhiskeys]

I’m just scared to post it on here because people will send me so much hate for believing that stuff/ bringing it up on here…./ I mean we talk about stuff from gossip sites, we’ll just take it with a grain of salt but I’m so curious

okay I can share some things she said to me, after I cried her ears off for an hour about my own boyfriend lol. I was there for almost 2 hours! Please take all of this with a grain of salt and remember that none of this might be true / has to come true / have any meaning:

I didn't tell her that we spoke about a superstar (this woman is 82 years old) so I presented both their birth charts as "friends of mine" lmao and right away she was like "does your friend struggle with anxiety and panic attacks? because my hands are shaking and my stomach feels super upset, does she have stomach issues?" lmao accurate

she said Taylor has a lot of trauma and mistrust inside of herself and that has been an issue from the first day in the relationship. However, she learned a lot and got better in time. Still, she is the one that starts drama in the relationship (which was due to her insecurities)

she said she felt drawn to Joe because he was the first man who didn't react to her shenanigans. Like, she could go up the wall and he'd be like "okay babe, I'll take a shower and we'll talk later when you calm down" lol and that was like a first for her because before Joe she only dated people who didn't have enough confidence to stand that - so his quiet confidence and how he reacted towards her and challenged her was a big factor in their love

she said Joe really changed her in some aspects. Like, she has been wronged in the past but she also knows that she has wronged some people (didn't give any details) and that Joe taught her to apologise and admit her mistakes to others in a way she didn't do it before.

what gave me goosebumps is that she was like "did she break up or him? did she tell you it was her who ended the relationship?" I was like????? she goes "I almost feel like she wants people to know that she broke up, but it was him. She would've never broken up with this man" - mate I felt like puking 🤢

she said that Taylor holds a lot of grudges against people/things/being wronged in the past and for Joe this was the one thing where he felt like she didn't really grow up. Like, he doesn't care about these sort of ego things, but she does (which I get, I mean she's a legend) and so he didn't understand why she would always get so upset about things and people. It's almost like she's a very intense and temperamental person and he just wanted them to enjoy life and be happy (so it's like they struggled with an energetic imbalance together)

what almost made me cry is that she said "wow, this break up is killing her." and then she was like "she needs you to be there for her because this is the biggest wound of her life so far, this one goes deep." 🤮

then she also talked about Joe's communication issues and that because he never reacted to her emotions, he kind of triggered her insecurities of her thinking "he doesn't react to me because he doesn't love me"

she said Joe was clearly the one pushing for children and family and she felt like he made her choose because he wanted her to slow her career down - but not in like a toxic way. She was like "he just understands clearly that her job has such a big impact in her life right now, there's no space for him or children anywhere" and then she was like "what does your friend do for a living? I get really intense energies" LMAO I was like... yeah she's pretty successful in her job lol

she said that she feels like Taylor might want to make him jealous in the next weeks/months but that the door for him is sadly closed, because he's the type of person when if it's over, it's over.

what touched me is that she said that overall for Taylor's life, this is one of the most important lessons, because his purpose in her life was to teach her to let go of her grudges and understand that ego isn't that important. And she said she will realise this down the road and even though they won't be together she will reach out to him and say "hey, you were right back then, and it might took losing you for me to get it, but thank you for what you taught me" 🥹 so like, in the long run she thinks Taylor will be super grateful for him and see his role in her life

overall she said they had a great connection, but it couldn't work out in terms of family etc cause he was here to teach her this one important lesson + he needs to work on his communication

she thinks Taylor needs to focus on her career for the next few years because this will ultimately bring her to the place she actually belongs

what was interesting is that she was like "is there someone at work who she used to fancy a while back?" 😅 so apparently there's someone in her life she knows/works with and who she wishes could be different in a way (not sure how she meant it) but that the good news is that this person will become exactly what she always hoped for in a few years. Like, all the qualities she wants in a husband/partner/father. So apparently it's someone she works with. But it takes a few years until that person has actually evolved enough basically

Taylor has to take care of her health 🙃 she was like "she has stomach issues and needs to get it checked out"

She said Joe gives off dad energy and that's what she is looking for in future partners, like someone calm and caring

I can't remember anything else. I was there for almost 2 hours so.. don't mind me if I forgot something