#and it feels bad to just bide for time and it's bad to 'wait for the future' But. my god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eilidh-eternal · 5 months

Text

Good morning 🥰 Wolf-shifter!Price is a bad, bad man 🤭 | Part 1 | Masterlist |

18+ MDNI | This is a DARK FIC | cw: blood, drowning, predator and prey dynamics

Little fawn… You shouldn’t be out on that ice.

John lingers at the edge of the forest, halts his routine surveillance at the fringes of his territory, and watches as you fall, can hear the ice shudder and give way, can smell the panic and fear as you sink beneath the frozen surface.

Well. A frozen meal is better than no meal at all.

He peels back layers of winter garb as he approaches the waters edge, shucking them into the snow before he makes the plunge himself.

You must have tried to fight it, the dead weight of your heavy clothing. Still so close to the surface when he reaches you. With kicking feet he takes you under the arms and hauls you back up, pushes you up onto the ice before hauling himself out behind you, and carries you off the treacherous lake. Sharp metal prods at his thigh with each step that jostles your skate-clad feet, and a growl of contempt rumbles in his chest when he feels the blade dig into his skin, thin rivulets of warm blood mixing with the water that drips from his body. They’re the first thing he removes from you, followed by the useless coat full of lake water and the monstrosity of a sweater beneath it.

Your left side blooms a tantalizing red, droplets staining the snow beneath you like Rorschach ink bleeds onto paper, and the sweet, metallic scent floods his senses. Calls to baser instincts. But then you begin to cough and hack, water gurgling between your darkened lips, and he can hear the faint thump of the cordiform muscle in your chest beating back to life. Pulsing with more of that sweet essence.

Not so frozen after all. Still time for a little fun.

He hopes you wake soon, that he won’t have to slink along in the shadows for hours before your scent paints the forest and leads him to you. Hopes that when you wake the panic and fear will smell just as decadent mingled with the adrenaline. Oh, how he’d like to linger here and watch that panic bloom on your pretty little face. Watch the confusion turn to shock, watch the whites of your eyes swallow the irises as you realize who—what—looms over you.

But he can’t. You won’t last out in this cold in your sopping clothes, and he won’t last in this form without his. So he leaves you with his coat draped over your body, the rest of his clothes nearby in the snow, and prowls into the sanctuary of pine and aspens that shield his fur from the wind blasted clearing you lie in.

He prowls, and he waits.

It doesn’t take long. And you’re so, so smart, little fawn. So smart to make use of the clothing he’s left for you. So very clever to follow his footprints in the snow. To wrap your arms around your middle and keep your hands balled inside the oversized sleeves of his coat.

And your scent… Oh, he had not been expecting that. The way your sweetness has tangled itself with his own scent. The way the lingering musk from his clothes wraps around your delicate, honeyed sillage. Warm and syrupy, like the blood that splatters in the snow and paints a path through the trees.

So focused are you on pushing forward, on moving and staying warm, that you do not notice the shadow at your back when you trudge into their refuge, sighing long and heavy at the absence of the punishing wind nipping at your exposed skin. You huff and puff as you fight the deep drifts, already at a disadvantage and clumsy in shoes far too big for you, his footsteps clearing the way not making much if a difference in your exhausted, wounded state.. You can hardly walk, let alone run, and so he bides his time. Watches from a distance, from the cover of pine boughs heavy and drooping with snow, from the shadows cast by the rapidly setting sun.

The snow may glitter and glisten, might make pretty patterns on frosted leaves and look pillowy soft where it gathers in drifts at the bases of tree trunks, but it is deceptive and cruel under the light of the moon. And the dark brings forth a host of malevolent, savage creatures. Things like him.

He’s doing you a kindness, really, watching over you as you tromp through the snow. Herding you closer and closer to his den. And don’t you just look delicious, smell absolutely divine, when all that fear and panic comes rushing back when you reach the end of his tracks. You’re so lucky that it’s him who pulled you from that lake, who’s been tracking you through this forest, and not some other, overeager beast that lacks composure and control.

No, he’s going to savor you. Going to take his time wearing you down. Get your adrenaline pumping, nice and warm for him when he finally brings you to his den. Then, and only then, will he taste you. Slake the thirst gnawing away inside of him, hollowing out his insides with the need to touch and taste and devour the sweet scent he’s been following for hours.

The snarl that rips from his throat is a primal thing, more animal than man, as he tastes your desperation, the spike of adrenaline when you finally realize you’ve been followed. His growl echoes in the silence that follows, beckons you to turn around, to let him see the fear as it unfolds across your features.

Let me see you, little one. Look at my teeth and claws and show me those pretty doe-eyes.

And god are you a fucking sight when you do, eyes wide with terror and shaking like a newborn on trembling legs. He knows you don’t shiver because of the cold, knows the decadent scent of dread and horror when it hits him, knows the instant you get that sinking feeling in your stomach when your eyes meet his and instead of doing what you should do, make yourself seem bigger, louder, you deflate. You curl in on yourself and don’t make a sound, hardly even breathe, until he pads forward, and you mirror his movement.

He steps forward, you step back. He steps to the left and you’re inching to the right. So easy for him, going exactly where he wants you to, doesn’t even have to snarl to get you to move in the right direction.

What a precious little thing you are, and you have no idea what’s in store for you.

He wouldn’t say it’s a game of cat and mouse, you haven’t even taken your eyes off of him, refuse to turn your back to him. So he keeps edging closer, hedging your little bubble of ‘safety’ you’ve managed to maintain. But then you go the wrong way, stumble over a fallen tree buried beneath the snow and it sets you off course, so he has no choice but to correct you.

Another low growl vibrates through him and it amuses him when your steps falter, when you freeze in place and he circles to come at you from the other direction.

This way, little one.

He moves further into your bubble and you start moving again, in the right direction this time. And though he can still taste the fear rolling off of you, there’s something else buried beneath it, tangy and acidic on his tongue. You don’t exactly back away from him anymore, either, just shuffle along with frequent glances over your shoulder to make sure he hasn’t gotten too close. Getting too comfortable. He’ll have to teach you how poor that decision is, to turn your back on him.

But not today. Today, you will go to his den, and he’ll be teaching you a different sort of lesson once he gets that nasty gouge on your side sorted. It’s beginning to bleed through his coat, deep red blooming against dull khaki, and you’re stumbling over everything and nothing. So he hedges closer, practically nipping at your heels to spur you on, get you moving just a bit quicker, until finally the scent of smoke and pine sap wafts through the air, and you make a relieved sound when the cabin comes into view.

You don’t need his guidance anymore. You know you need the warmth of that fire, the shelter the cabin offers. And you’re desperate enough not to care who it belongs to. Desperate enough that when no one answers your calls and you find the door unlocked, you go right in, go straight to the hearth and huddle as close as you can to the flames. You really shouldn’t, but you lay down, curl into the insulation of the coat and let your eyes droop closed, despite the risk of hypothermia that falling asleep poses. But you must be tired. You’d drowned. Nearly gutted yourself falling through the ice. Waded through wind and snow with a wolf at your back to get here.

Of course you’re tired. Tired enough that you don’t hear John come inside, don’t stir as he moves about and tends to himself and the fire. Only make a soft whining sound when he finally lifts you from the floor to settle you on the couch and peel away the blood-crusted layers that cling to your skin. He makes quick work of the wound, cleaning the dried blood from your skin and soaking up the fresh outpouring with gauze as he pushes the needle and thread through your skin, too exhausted to register the additional pain.

Fur lined blankets settle over you, cocooning you in warmth and shielding you from the lingering cold in the air. John watches you from his place on the adjacent armchair, feet kicked up on the old coffee table, and he hums knowingly when you burrow deeper into the blankets' warm refuge.

Rest now, little fawn. You’ll need all your strength when you wake.

©️Eilidh-Eternal.2024 ~ The intellectual property of Eilidh-Eternal is not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.

785 notes · View notes

writers-hes · 9 months

Text

i need you (2 of 2) | c. berzatto x reader

It was good when you started but Carmen Berzatto had the ability to make anyone fall in love with him no matter how much you tried not to...maybe this time he feels the same? (friends with benefits!carmen, smut, mndi!!!, unprotected p in v, smut! smut!, angst!! fluff, maybe some bad words, canon typical themes, unedited)

PART ONE / navigation

Sorry for the things I said.

I appreciate you.

He erases the messages that he wanted to send. It was tempting…

The flowers he let die mocks him by the stove. It was a fire hazard he knew; but if this room burned down, would you come over to check if he was doing well?

His eyes look ahead, empty. Ever since that incident in the kitchen weeks ago, the Chefs have been on edge. Who wouldn’t be? He was cutting away those vegetables like he just didn’t cut his hand. He decided to forget about you…for now. But it was hard, considering the fact that your artwork hung in The Bear like a mantlepiece. A mantlepiece for others but he sees it like a crufix and he, a sinner with no redemption. It mocks him of his mistakes…of what he said. Everything seemd to mock him.

Ever since that bloody incident in the kitchen a few days ago, Carmy made sure to never commit a mistake again. Every second counts, every second counts…every second he counted was spent on you.

Were you alright? Were you in Chicago? Did you still need him? Or were you alright since he's finally out of your life?

You’re so fucking miserable.

It rang in his head because he knew that it was true. He was—is miserable. He made everyone around him just as miserable as he was. He could never grasp the intensity of his feelings; could never seem to grasp anything. He thinks to himself to just fuck it all and go to you and grovel…but he just couldn’t. He knew he wanted more. He was well aware of his feelings for you but to think that he made a mess of everything that he could ever have was hard to swallow.

Carmy has the habit of hiding from his allies. He can’t control his emotions but sometimes, he bides his time hoping to fix it. He tries to wait for the perfect time to fix what he burned but…it’s been too long since you last saw each other. It’s been too long since he sent you a message.

Would you still love me?

You weren’t doing any better. Carmen, despite his refusal to love, was warm. He’s the sun shining on a cold winter day; the warmth that spreads all over your body from the kiss that he leaves on your shoulder. You missed him dearly, but you couldn’t have it in you to reach out first when it was him who didn’t love you.

The realization of Carmen not loving you back was bearable at first but to see it right in front of your eyes…to be on the receiving end of his rejection was more than what you could comprehend.

In a span of those months without Carmen, you felt…like there was a gaping Carmen Berzatto-shaped hole inside your heart that only he could fix. You’ve been in and out of Chicago to forget about him, but you couldn’t. At the end of the day, you were just as miserable as when you first realized that you'd fallen for him. Was it asking for too much when you asked him to still be your friend? The more he pushed you away, the more you were convinced that you didn’t matter to him at all.

Is it too late for me to love you?

You’ve been surrounding yourself with work; painting in your studio for what felt like years until you were sure that your fingers were gonna fall off.

If walls could talk, they’d tell the world of Carmen Berzatto.

You’ve been purging yourself of anything Carmy and you found yourself painting every single food he’s ever made for you. It was all that you could do to relieve yourself of the sobs that choked you at night; when you didn’t want to acknowledge that the man you loved didn’t love you back. You should have been fine—you were expecting this. You were anticipating this but you still wondered what it would be like to be loved by him. You still wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand in the streets of Chicago. You wondered how his hand would feel on your knee while he drives back home. You wondered what it felt like to be loved by him.

You were meeting some art collector today—he seems to be keen on commissioning you for your work and you accepted. He was supposed to arrive in Chicago to meet you and to try a new restaurant that everyone’s been raving about. He said that he already had a reservation for three but he couldn’t go and told you to meet with his art consultant, Isaac on his stead.

You should’ve known from the context clues that you’ll be landing in a place you didn’t want to go to. You should’ve been smarter because maybe, if you did, you wouldn’t be sitting at The Bear, waiting for your frozen grapes and bone broth. Surprise was one word to describe Natalie’s face when she saw you.

“So, how did you realize you wanted to pursue art?”

“Oh,” you licked your lips. “I guess, I wanted to pursue it all my life. It was something that I was good at and…and I can’t really cook well. I liked how food was presented and how empty dinner plates look sometimes, you know. It didn’t take long for me to collaborate with chefs and restaurants and…”

“Is that your piece?” Isaac asked. “I’m sorry, I just—wow. Do you think the manager will let me come nearer to inspect it?”

You smiled at him.

“Um, yeah.” you nod. Richie comes by and stops by your table.

“Good evening, guys,” he greets. “Y/N, it’s been a while.”

“Hey, Rich,” you waved.

“We’ll get you started with frozen grapes in a minute,” he says. “How’s your night? Didn’t know I’d find you here.”

“Oh, this is Isaac. Isaac, Richie.”

Isaac stands up to shake Richie’s hand.

“Do you want to go see the painting? It’s even more detailed up close,” Richie said, ushering Isaac to the painting. He throws you a look as if to ask for your permission but you just smiled at him. Your knee was bouncing under the table, trying to calm yourself down. Richie walks back to your table.

“You know he’s not going to like that,”

“I’m in a business meeting,” you shrugged. “Isaac is an art consultant and his boss told us he couldn’t come. Do you need to see my text messages?”

“I know, I’m not fucking accusing you of anything. Don’t be defensive,” Richie says, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “But had I known that we were going here, I would’ve suggested another place. I don’t want to be here either.” Richie looks for the object of your focus, seeing your eyes zero in on the painting you gave to Carmen.

“We all love the painting. Carmy loves it. He looks at it every day before opening,” he offers but you only shrug. If he loved the painting so much, why didn’t he text you? “You should’ve thrown it at me instead of throwing it at the back. Could’ve earned thousands on that one,” you chuckled, telling him that it probably would. He sees Isaac come back to the table after marvelling at your painting. Richie smiles tightly and tells him that starters will be served shortly.

“Yo, Y/N’s outside. We have to bring our A game!” Richie shouts in the kitchen. “Make her first time here an experience. Fak, make sure that the lamp over Y/N and Isaac isn’t too hot and then, ask if you could serve them some drinks.”

“Okay,” Fak nods, fixing his hair to make sure that he was presentable. It takes a bit for Carmy to register what Richie was saying and he blinks.

“Wait, hold up. Cousin. Who’s here? Y/N…she’s here?” Carmy asked, taking the teapot of bone broth. “With…with who?”

“Isaac,” Richie replied, he was watching Carmy fix his hair and his uniform. What an asshole.

“Carmy! Don’t fucking—go,” Sydney whispers the last part, looking pointedly at Richie once Carmy leaves with the fucking teapot. “Really, Richie? Tonight? You want to play fucking games tonight?” she asked. “Need I remind you of the bloody chopping board? Sweeps hasn’t removed the stains out yet,”

“What?” he shrugs. “Everyone’s been on edge since they stopped talking. It’s nice to take a breather,” Richie saw the realization dawn on Sydney’s face and he smirks. “Right, chefs! It will take Carmy two minutes to go do his alpha whatever fucking bullshit outside. That’s two minutes of easy time. I’ll need focaccia for Y/N’s table after the fucking grapes. Make sure that the dishes are warm, chefs! Every second counts,”

“Good evening,” he greets, a tight smile on his face. He catches the way your smile falls slowly into a frown.

“Carmen,” you replied.

“Finally had the time to visit,” he says. “With a date?”

“Ah, no,” you replied. “Isaac is my customer’s art consultant and he’s uh,”

“Here to make a deal,” Isaac replied. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Berzatto.”

“Here’s your broth with the-the grapes,” he says, shakily pouring it over the frozen grapes. “Hope you, uh, enjoy the evening, Y/N. Isaac,”

He turns to leave but pauses.

“Um, sorry, Y/N can I have a word with you?” he asked. “Please,”

You swallowed. “Um—“

Isaac saw your apprehension. “It’s okay. You’re friends…right? I’ll stay here,”

“Sure. I’ll take two minutes. I’m so sorry,” you apologized before letting him lead you to the kitchen. “Hi, guys. Sorry for interrupting,”

“It’s fine,” Richie says, smiling at you sweetly.

“Carmy, we can talk later, okay? Your kitchen needs you,” you tried. You’ve been saying that to him even before your entrance to the kitchen, but he only shakes his head.

“Just…two minutes,” he says. “Please,”

“Carmen…”

“Please,” he tried. He didn’t really want his staff to see him grovel even though he knew that this was bringing them some sort of a sadistic joy.

“Sorry, everyone,” you forced out, but Sydney was actually thankful to get Carmen out of the kitchen for a few minutes. If it was possible, Carmy was even more unreasonable. His standards were tip top. A second too long was a second too much. He and Sydney have been screaming at each other every night; the volume of their voices louder by the second.

You followed him into the office, being reminded of the hurtful words you’ve said to each other. He locks the door, and runs a hand over his face.

“What…what are you doing here?” he scowls.

“I’m a paying customer. I can go wherever I want,”

“With him? What are you doing here with him?” he asked, hands on his waist to show his impatience. You decided to make him wait and he does, urging you to answer by raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t think it matters to you,” you replied. “I can go eat wherever I want. I can afford it,”

“I’m-I’m not saying that you can’t. Just-just tell me why here?”

“Why are you so bothered? You can’t question every guy you see me with, Carm,” you reasoned out. “You told me you didn’t love me. I don’t think it’s necessary for you to still know where I go and who I spend time with.” He flinches at your tone. You’ve never talked to him like that before. You were always so gentle. So, for you to disregard him and not even give a reason why, an icy glare thrown his way…was mean.

“I can kick you out,” he spits. You scowl at him; he’s never been the subject of your anger and right now, you were seething.

“So, kick me out,” you challenged him, meeting his eyes with the dort of ferocity that he never expected from you. He stays silent, looking at the floor. He didn’t want you to hate him more than you already do. “I thought so,”

Urgent and demanding raps on your door broke you from your reviere. You liked painting in silence; it soothes you from the loudness of the world outside. You sighed, knowing immediately who was on the other side. Your breath was shaky, and you tried to walk slowly towards the door. What would you even say to him?

Carmy was a jittering mess on the other side. He couldn’t get you out of his head ever since you visited The Bear a few days ago. He was watching from the other side after service, seeing you laugh at whatever Isaac said. He was making you laugh when that was reserved to Carmen alone…months ago before he ruined everything he ever wanted. He waits with bated breath as you open the door. He used to be able to just come inside your house whenever he wanted. You used to wait for him with a small smile on your face. It is all gone now. You looked tired; like you didn’t want him there at all.

“Can I come in?” he asked but he didn’t miss the way you shielded your body with the door. He didn’t miss the way your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Sure.” Sure. Like you didn’t have any other choice but to deal with him right now. Sure.

“Thanks,” he licks his lips, putting his shoes on the side like he used to. Your home was clean but it was devoid of anything. The lights were barely on and the music that used to play from your vinyl was nowhere to be heard. Carmy used to tease you for being pretentious. It’s too quiet inside your house right now.

“Do you want anything? Water?”

“No, thanks,” he says, and you nod. “I’m…I just—I don’t know why I’m here,”

“I see,” you replied, looking anywhere but at him. “Can I help you?”

“Um—who-who were you with the other day?”

“You can’t just…question or decide to drop by when you see me with someone else, Carm,” you said, voice low and careful. “He was an art consultant,”

“Why?” he asked, his eyes inviting you to look at him but you wouldn’t budge. He knew why. He knew that he was an art consultant but something inside Carmy was telling him that the planning had been deliberate and that you went there with malice. To spite him…make him jealous…it was narcissistic but what if?

“Because…because you don’t love me,” you chuckled. There was something funny about not being loved back by a person who used to come to you at the smallest inconvenience. “You don’t love me but the first thing you do is to freak out. It was a work meeting and you freaked out. You don’t love me, Carmy,”

“How many times will-will you hold that over me?” he asked, frowning. “Why are you acting like-like I did something wrong? You can’t control how I feel, Y/N! Give it up!”

“Because I can and I want to, Carmen!” you exclaimed, chest heaving. Your throat constricted at his rejection. This was the second time. “I can and I want to hold that over you because I’m hurt. I am hurt. You hurt me. You toss me away to the side and-and you expect me to be forgiving. You expect me to just understand,”

“You have to accept that I…don’t—that I don’t love you that way,” he whispers, and it just breaks your heart because he still couldn’t get it.

“I’m not asking you to love me back,” you croak, your eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t want to tell you how to feel—or what to feel but you didn’t even text me. You didn’t ask me how I was doing…or -or said hi to me. You—you…I don’t know. You just stopped.”

“Why didn’t you text me first?”

“Because I told you how much you mattered to me. I told you that I love you. I thought that if I didn’t text you, you'd miss me and…God, Carmen. I would have been fine if you didn’t love me back. It would have been fucking dandy. It would have been great if you could have just…treated me like a—like a friend, you know? I still would’ve been there for you…but you shut me out! You showed me just how little I mattered to you, Carm. Did you know that…? You—you treat me like how you treat everyone else when you’re the one who needs me. ”

“You do—you matter to me…”

“Actions speak louder than words,” you spat, your arms crossed over your chest. “You only text me first when you want a quick fuck. I’m free tonight? Want to go? You can’t even say that you want to have sex with me,”

Carmen was at a loss for words. He was hurt that you’d think that way of him when he thought the world of you. Did you really think that you’d matter to Carmen just because he wanted to fuck you?

“Hey, don’t-don’t do that. That isn’t fair to me. You know that-that you mean more to me than that. You’re being unfair,”

“Unfair,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m being unfair when you’re the one inside my home after seeing me with a guy that I am working with.”

“It’s my fucking restaurant! It’s my goddamn restaurant,” he exclaimed, running his hand over his golden hair that you loved so much. “It’s my fucking goddamn restaurant!”

“And I’m fucking telling you that I can do whatever I want!” you retorted, matching the intensity of his voice. “Why do you care, Carmen?” you spit.

“Don’t say my name like that.”

“Like what? Carm? Carmy? Bear? Carmen…Anthony…Berzatto?” you taunt, the same venom dripping from your voice. He just never heard it from you before and it was an unpleasant feeling. “I’m not…I’m not going to let you push me around just because I love you, Carmy,” you shook your head.

Carmy stares at you, his face pinched in frustration and in sadness. He looks away, swallowing. He presses his hand over his chest to ground him. He didn’t know if he should be mad at you for making him feel this way. Like he needs you all the time to be alright. He didn’t know if he should be angry at himself for letting you lure him into your trap and your promises of warmth and love and…contentment. All this time, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t need anyone much less you for that matter.

“Say something,” you urged, looking at him desperately but he just shakes his head. You could feel it—feel him detach himself from you. You could feel him cower, hide his feelings…the real reason why he was knocking on your door in the first place. “Fucking say something, Carm! Tell me why you’re here,”

He just stands there unmoving, blinking back any emotion. He wanted to store everything in his brain. He didn’t want to feel anymore…he didn’t…

“Fucking hell,” you whispered shakily. “I don’t know what you want from me…but I can’t go on like-like this! I can’t open the door for you every time you knock. I can’t answer every time you call…just…please, Carmy. Fucking say something.”

Still, he stays silent.

A sardonic chuckle escapes your lips.

“Leave when you want to, I don’t give a shit. Just…just don’t come inside my fucking studio, Carmen. I was expecting you to apologize to tell me that you still want to be friends…I guess I thought I mattered to you more than that,” you told him, walking away. He just watches you go to your studio, hearing the sounds of your materials being thrown in different directions. It doesn’t make him flinch; he just watches the fire burn.

It’s time to go.

Carmen has been living in autopilot since his last visit. It was probably jealousy that prompted him to act like a jagoff but he wasn’t ready to admit that. Instead, he was harder on himself, beating himself up over the smallest things—if a dice wasn’t precise, it wasn’t good enough. Food out for a second too long was cold. It was like reliving New York but he was the perpetrator. He was the one pushing his boundaries until he hated what he was doing and Carmy admits, it was not healthy.

But what else could he do? Cooking was the only thing he was good at and there was nothing else to do other than work.

That was a lie.

He sometimes spent hours rereading the messages you sent him. You’d always text him to have a good day…a funny photo that reminded you of him…

He smiles at some of them, but it’s quickly replaced by the frown that etches on his face because he will never receive these messages from you. Isaac probably fucking does though. He grips his phone tightly in his hands; he hates that thought. He looks at his phone blankly, the message from you illuminating his face blue.

parm4carm? carmyggiano reggiano? carmensan hahahahahaha i’m at a meeting and i want to laugh because i’m thinking of things to add to your name

He didn’t remember replying but he did remember the small satisfaction that the message brought him all day. You were thinking of him and you were trying to make him laugh; he tried his best to stop himself from smiling but Richie noticed it immediately.

“What the fuck are you smiling about?” he asked him but Carmy only flipped him off, turning around to stop Richie from seeing him.

He sighs. It’s not like what you had wasn’t fun. In fact, he was quite sure that it was the somewhat-only healthy relationship that he has. You both gave wach other space, you talked things through. When he started dating Claire, he went to your apartment first to tell you about her. You shrugged it off, not really minding who Carmy dated back then. When he apologized for not inviting you to the opening despite multiple protests from Richie and Sydney, you understood. When he stopped responding for a week, you showed up to his door with a pack of his favorite cigarettes and a box of doughnuts.

Looking back, did he ever do anything for you?

“Carmy, you good?” Sugar asked. He was more standoffish; he smokes more, and he doesn’t speak much. It’s always only a grunt or a “yeah yeah.”

“Oh,” Carmy says, blinking. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Carmy…” Sugar tries. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods. “I…I’m just thinking, you know? Like-like, I fuck everything up and-and I’m aware of it,” he says. “I know that what I’m doing isn’t right but…you know, I-I always have this dream of a fire…and I just watch it burn…”

Sugar nods, trying to coax out the lump in Carmy’s throat.

“I wonder if I just don’t speak…will they understand me? I can’t fuck things up again just because I have no cell reception. What if that happens again?” he asked, frowning. “Fuck,”

“Do you think she’s distracting? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,”

“But I…I want to,” he says, his hand pressed on his chest. “I want to, Nat but I can’t,”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Carmy. Go talk to the girl,” she smiles and Carmy could only nod because maybe Nat was right. If he could just…talk to you without jumping on your throat and without blinking, there like a fucking idiot.

That’s an easy job, right?

“I’ve been thinking about-about us, and I just want to say that I’m sorry and that I…Fuck!”

He was walking like a madman inside his apartment, on the verge of texting you about how Isaac chewed with his mouth open. You told him you hated people who chewed with their mouths open—loud and wet. He saw your favorite cereal on sale the other day. He almost wanted to ask you if you were aware that it was marked down. Should he get you a few boxes? What about three? He just wanted to know. Would you…would you come over if he let his kitchen burn? Would you come over if you saw the dead flowers that dried up because he couldn’t find it in himself to throw them away. It was the last piece of evidence that he wanted to go. Would you even accept his dead flowers now that your name was on every art forum? You probably like cereal and milk with fucking gold leaves and fig.

He knows that you didn’t like it when he looked sad but when he visited you, did you notice the way his shoulders slumped? Because he noticed the shallowness of your breathing, the taps on the floor, the pause before you opened the door for him. He noticed the way you blinked back the tears that he threatened to spill because he was cruel. He knew…he knew that he was cruel but would you still forgive him if he ran up to you now?

The cereal you like is marked down at the store. Do you want some?

The vibration in your pocket stops you from talking to the guy who just offered to buy you your coffee.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly. “Let me just…get this,”

Your hands slightly trembled when you saw the message that Carmy just sent. It was an odd olive branch but what if you were looking into things again? What if he was just trying to have sex again?

I’m sorry for the things that I said.

Can we talk?

“Hey, hey,” the guy says. You didn’t even know his name. “Are you alright?”

“Uh? Yeah, no-yeah, I am. Sorry,” you replied, locking your phone and putting it in the back pocket. “What was it?”

“Oh, I was wondering if-if you want coffee?”

“I…already ordered, though,” you replied. “Advanced order and I’m just waiting…”

The guy’s face falls, and you smile timidly.

“Sorry,” you offered.

“No, that's fine,” he shrugs. “I should’ve known or something,”

“No, thanks. Um, yeah…”

The barista calls for your name on the counter and you smile at him before leaving. You rushed out of the café without another word, coffee in your hand and Carmen’s message in your backpocket.

The Read label was putting Carmen in a spiral. You read the message twelve fucking minutes ago, why weren’t you replying? He was popping the joints on his knuckles, watching the phone closely until you replied.

what time do you close?

can we go to your apartment instead?

He lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He texts you to just enter the apartment since you still have the keys, completely forgetting about the flowers near his stove.

When you entered his apartment, you were greeted with the bareness of it all, save for the dried flowers on the stove. You frowned, walking towards it. Carmy didn’t need flowers… Besides, this was a fire hazard. Was he okay?

You turned over the card attached and took a sharp breath.

Let it rip. I’m so proud of you.

Love, Carm

Was this deliberate? Did he plan this all out to get you to forgive him? You turned away, trying to forget the note that he was meant to give you. You sat on his couch instead, settling on the corner and flipping through the channels on his cable. You wanted something to fill the silence so that when he comes, you wouldn’t have to try to make up for it by saying something stupid like the weather in Chicago.

You settled on some reality show, looking at the screen with your eyes glazed over when you heard someone mess with the lock. You looked over, watching Carmy in his grey sweater. He tossed the backpack to the side and his shoes were laying somewhere. You saw this scene before—multiple times but the undertone was different.

“Hi,”

“Hey,”

“Um—“

“I hope you…you don’t mind me watching—“

Carmy’s eyes flicks to the stove and realization dawns on his face.

“Fuck, fuck. Sorry—you, ah, weren’t supposed to…” he puts the flowers in the cupboard hastily, some leaves falling. “See that,”

“Yeah—“

“Um, I’ll just…”

“Yeah,”

He nods, blinking, before stalking to his bedroom. He locks the door behind him and heaves. Fuck. He shakes his head entering the bathroom to wash the day away.

You couldn't focus anymore. Why was he so ashamed of the flowers he got you? You swallow the thickness down your throat. Were you intruding if you got yourself a glass of water? Carmy goes out of the bedroom a few minutes later, fresh and clean. He looks at you and heads to the kitchen. You don’t move.

He comes back with a glass of water for you, laying it down on the coffee table and then sitting beside you—as far as he could because he didn’t know where you stood right now. What boundaries can he cross?

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, taking a huge gulp of the cold water. “Um…”

“Shit—I don't know what to say,” he says, folding his hands on his lap.

“We can…we can start with what we said,” you replied slowly. “I…”

“I’m sorry,”

“Carm—“

“I’m sorry. I didn’t take-I didn’t take your feelings into consideration and I…I hurt you,” he says, looking down. You were both sitting straight ahead, the TV illuminating your faces. It felt like a thick wall was between you two and that it was up to you to break it. “I just…I don’t know. I can’t keep on doing shitty things and then-then, feeling bad about myself but I…I spent my life trying to-to understand mom and Mi—key,” he chokes. “I guess I don’t want to understand anyone else anymore because I wouldn’t be able to but I—but you’re not anyone else.”

“I fucked up,” he says. “When I was with Claire…I was locked in the fucking freezer because I had no cell reception. I don’t want that…but I don’t—“

“What do you want, Carm?” you asked.

“I want to—I want…I,”

“I’m sorry for calling you miserable and unreliable,” you told him. “I was hurt and I’m sorry for uh, holding things over you. It’s not your fault that I caught feelings. It wasn’t fair to just…expect you to…love me, you know? Wasn’t fair,”

“No, I was a shitty friend. I shouldn’t have let you go like that,”

“Yeah,” you nod. You heard him shift in his seat, legs crossed over each other and facing you. You glanced and did the same.

“I got you your cereal,” A small smile.

“Yeah?” A beat.

“Like four boxes.”

“I’ll be sick of them,” you teased.

“I know but maybe you’d hate that instead,” A confession.

“I don’t hate you…”

“You don’t?” he asked. “Why…I’m really sorry. I don’t want to…I’m really fucking sorry,”

“What do you want, Carm?” you asked, a brave hand on his knee. “Tell me what you want,”

“Please,”

“And we’ll make it work,”

“I want everything. But I…I don’t…It’s funny. A fridge started Claire and I’s relationship. A fridge ended it too. I’m sorry for bringing her up…but I never felt like I was deserving of…of happiness and I,” he blinks, eyes pinching at the bitterness of every word that rolled off his tongue. “Who the fuck said I could be in a relationship? I am the best because I was focused and I…I had cell reception and I didn’t have the bullshit of understanding feelings. I don’t need amusement or enjoyment…I…no amount of good was worth it, you know? I thought-thought that it was a complete waste of my fucking time but I crave for it,”

“And…I don’t know. I failed them and I…I don’t—“ he heaves. He has to let it all out if he wanted to make things right. “I’m scared that if I…jump in, you know? I fuck everything up again. My staff hates me, I hate me, and you…you hate me too. I don’t want to lose cell reception and I…I don’t need enjoyment but I need you. I need you with me all the time but what if you get—sick of me and push me away like Mikey did? What if…what if you learn to hate me? I need you and I don’t know if I can handle it if we—if we just stopped talking and I did. I stopped talking to you because it would have hurt me more if you decided to end things like that…I’m sorry,”

“I’m just…I fuck up everything that I touch, and I know that I’m miserable and I’m so fucking sorry that I hurt you. I’ll take that with me to the grave. I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, a hand pressed on his chest, like he was protecting it. The barrier that you had to strike down. A gentle hand takes his, interlacing your fingers with his calloused ones. It makes him flinch, but he accepts the gesture.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” you smiled and Carmy could just cry because it was the same thing that Claire had told him. What was the guarantee that it was different this time? “But Carmy, you have to understand that I…I don’t want to hurt you or-or distract you from being the best. I want you to be the best…”

“Is the best…enough?” he asks. “If I lose you?”

“That’s a question you have to answer for yourself, Carm,” you offered. “I’m selfish. I can’t—I don’t want to be the reason why you learn to hate me just because I told you to choose me and I don’t want you to choose. I want you to…be the best and be—be…”

“I need you,”

“I know but I…” I want you to love me.

“I touch everything and I burn everything…Richie and I…I feel so bad about the things I said to him and I fucking hate that I can’t control anything. My life is so fucked up and I—“ he stops, looking at you for the first time that night. “I just wish to just let the everything burn and then it will all go away but I need you to watch it burn with me,”

He still hasn’t said what you wanted to hear from him. He still hasn’t said anything.

“I love you,”

You stop your breathing.

“Carm—don’t say that just for the sake of saying it,” you begged, pulling him away from him and standing up. “Don’t say that if you don’t-don’t mean it…you're just being mean,”

“I do,”

“Carmy,” you whispered. “You didn’t love me months ago. What made you love me now?” you asked. “I’m not invalidating your feelings or-or whatever but I need you to understand that I’ve been loving you for months. I loved you after you broke up with Claire and we drank wine many months ago, but you didn’t…do you love me because you need me?”

“No!” he says. “I love you and I need you. I’ve been—harboring these feelings but I can’t…I can’t say anything and I’m so, so scared that if I don’t say anything now, then everything will just be a big fucking shit show and then, I’ll lose you forever. I’m so scared because what if we don’t work and-and you decide that I do make you miserable? What then?”

“What if we work out?”

“That’s worse because then I’d know that I’ve been holding myself back for nothing,”

“I’m confused, Carm. What do you want?” you asked, shaking your head.

“You and I…together,” he replied. “Only if you want to. I don’t want to make you feel like-like I’m,”

“Can you say that again?”

“What?”

“What do you feel for me,” you begged. “I’ve been…I’ve been waiting months for you to tell me those words and I just have to make sure that I—that I’m hearing you correctly,”

“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats the same words over and over again and you feel your eyes brim with tears because this is what you wanted—this is what you’ve always wanted to hear. He stands up and walks over to you, covering his arms around your frame. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t,”

“Carmy…” you trailed off. “I’m sorry for the things that I said,”

“I’m sorry too,” he says. “But it’s okay…consider everything forgotten,” he kisses your temple and checks on you. “We’re okay, baby. We’re okay,”

“I missed you,”

“I missed you too,” he says, ducking his head so his lips could meet yours. “I miss you,” he mumbles, cradling your head with his two hands. He kisses you fervently, like he was thirsty and you were the fountain of life. “Mm,”

“Carm…” you whine when he lets you go. You push him to the couch, his legs open wide as he watches you. “I want to show you how much I missed you,”

“Yeah?” he rasps, tapping his lap. “Come here, baby,”

You nod, watching his chest rise and fall in anticipation. You settle yourself on his lap, legs on either side. His hands immediately find your waist, clutching your body through the soft material of your shirt. You tug on his shirt to bring him closer to you, kissing him slowly. Your hands find themselves tugging on his hair, your hips rocking softly against his clothed crotch.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hips meeting your subconsciously and you giggle at his anticipation.

“Carm!” you chuckled, lips trailing down to his jaw. He likes that you never fail to leave love bites where everyone can see. He sighs deeply when you suck on the spot he liked so much. You could feel him harden under his joggers, itching for release. When you are done, you smile at him, pecking him on the lips before removing his shirt completely. He sucks in a breath when your soft hands run over his chest. “I missed you,”

“I missed you too,” he rasps, tugging on your shirt. You oblige, removing the piece of clothing entirely. His mouth waters at the sight of your naked torso. You rub your heat against his cock, the both of you moaning because of the pleasurable friction. It was slow and deliberate at first but you were soon mewling, his mouth on yours. His tongue pushes past against your lips, swirling with one another. “Remove everything, please—“

You nod, standing in front of him to strip yourselves of what remained between the two of you. Carmy, runs his hand on your waist, looking up at you with need. You run your hands through his hair while you let him kiss every part of your body that he could kiss. You sigh at the contact of his warm lips against your body, settling yourself back on his lap but this time, with less restraint. His hand immediately finds your cunt, fingers working to flick your clit. You whimpered when you felt his fingers prod your entrance.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Fuck yourself with my hand,”

“Carm,” you whine, bouncing slightly. Your hand finds the tip of his cock and his hips jerks, at the contact.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he says, looking up at you with his eyes half-lidded. He removes his fingers inside you and sucks on them. “You always taste so sweet,”

You couldn’t choke out any reply. So instead, you put your hands on either of his shoulders, slowly sinking on his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he says, his head falling on the sofa. “Fuck,”

“Carmy,” you said, rolling your hips against his own slowly. “You’re so—“

“Good,” he says, watching his member disappear inside you completely. He could feel your wetness on his thighs, and it kills him. “I’m gonna make you mine,” he says, pinching your nipple.

“Carmy!”

“You like it?” he asked, his head inching closer. He flicks his tongue over the sensitive bud while you ride him. He bites on it and you flinch. He feels your walls clench around him when he does that, so he tries it on your other nipple.

“Carm,” you whined, “Fuck—“

The moans that emitted from his mouth vibrated on your chest. He was continuously sucking and licking your nipple, pinching and twisting it with his rough hands while you gyrated against him. His cock fills you up differently and you let his hips thrust upwards, hitting a certain soot inside of you.

He gives up the need to control, letting you part away from him. You stand up, repositioning yourself to finally—

“Fuck!” he groans, not expecting the sudden feeling of your tight, wet walls wrapping his girth. The tip was just teasing your wntrance a few second ago. His head falls back, arms wrapped around your waist while you bounce on his cock. “Fuck, fuck,”

“Carmy…” you moan. “Kiss me,”

He does what was told, capturing your lips with his. His tongue parts your already open mouth, his arms snaking around gour waist to keep you closer. You whimper, hands holding either side of his neck and you grip slightly.

“Mm,” he groans, breaking away from you. Your pace was speeding up, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling his apartment. “Fuck,”

You smiled at him, constricting his airways a little tighter.

“I’m so—fuck—oh,” he chokes out. His hips stutter against you, cock filling you up completely and he feels your walls clench around him. “close.”

“Baby, baby, baby…” he sighs, the pressure too much for him. “I’ll make you mine. I’ll make you mine,”

“I love you,” you mewled, head falling when he plays with your sensitive buds again. “I want to be yours, Carm,”

He meets your wet pussy with his cock in sloppy thrusts. Your bodies were moving in motion, desperate for that release—that closeness after months of being away from each other. Carmy was holding you so close, grunting and groaning under you.

“Fuck, I fucking love—oh,” his voice breaks and he comes undone. Your walls clench around his gushing member, thrusting inside to chase your high. Your movements slow down, his head on your shoulder. A beat passes with heavy breathing. He peeks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, removing yourself from him. “Are you?”

He nods, pushing your hair away from your face.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,”

“Let’s get you cleaned up. What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

“I think cereal’s good.”

A/N: First and foremost, I’d like to thank you guys for the overwhelming love and support that you showed in chapter one. Your comments and reblogs all motivated me to write chapter 2 the best that I can and I hope that you love this chapter as much as the previous one. As always, don’t forget to comment or reblog your thoughts! I’d love to know what you thought about this one.

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt@morgthemagpie@hal3ynicol3@1800-queen-trash @ummvengers @thottywizard

TELL ME YOU NEED ME TAGLIST: @hanula18 @globetrotter28 @trashcanfullofdork @carmens-berzattos @se0kie @saturnheart @akila-twt @mashadanki @ayoedibiris-letterboxd @quicksilversg1rl @docmerlock @notalxx

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto #angst #fluff #the bear #the bear fc #carmy berzatto smut

1K notes · View notes

f1gments · 1 year

Text

DETOUR - HAYAKAWA AKI |早川アキ (M)

You and Aki are supposed to be on your way back from a mission, but the rain that’s been pouring non-stop has Aki pulling over to the side of an empty road for safety precautions. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any sooner, so what better way to spend that time than to have sweaty, breathy, messy sex in the back seat?

MINORS DNI

Pairing: aki x fem!bodied reader

word count: 8.0k

R18, making out, smut, car sex, protected sex, semi-public sex, handjob, oral sex (towards Aki), vaginal fingering, nipple licking, cowgirl position, missionary, vaginal sex, teasing & dirty talk, softdom aki (?), boyfriend aki

he smokes for a little bit. also calls you baby a few times.

authors note: car sex fic among my list of wips that i’ve been wanting to put out for ages, so ya’ll can thank the amount of horny i had in order to push through with this fic lol. also big thank you to my darling @meownotgood for beta reading and revising! and also adding fuel to the aki horny. i give you big kith <3 <3

18+ explicit content ahead. please for the love of god DO NOT interact if you’re a minor.

Aki exhales a long, defeated sigh from the driver’s seat.

“It looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” he says, switching the car engine off.

It's been pouring non-stop from the moment you left the city, but the rain has only grown heavier, to the point where it's difficult to see the road — or anything, for that matter. All you can make out through the droplet-soaked windows are the elusive silhouettes of houses and the blurred lights from the street lamps. The sky is gloomy and dark, puffy gray clouds obscure the sun.

The two of you were supposed to be on your way back to headquarters after completing a mission Makima had sent you on. According to file reports and a call she received, the Rat Devil was going around terrorizing citizens in a small district on the far outskirts of Tokyo.

The mission itself was simple: kill the Rat Devil and report back to Makima upon confirmation of its extermination. By the time you and Aki arrived, almost half the neighborhood was killed — or rather, eaten, so there wasn't any need for search and rescue. The devil was dealt with rather easily. You and Aki would have been at headquarters and done with all of this by now, if it wasn't for the sudden rainstorm interrupting that plan.

So, here you are, parked at the side of an empty road with Aki, biding your time until the rain stops.

You're a little bored, sure, but this isn't all bad. It feels good to relax a bit before you have to go back to headquarters; you can already see the giant stack of paperwork waiting for you.

You hum as you shrug off your coat, before leaning your head against the headrest. You stare out the foggy window; there's a couple of houses up ahead that you can see from where you're parked, and beside them is a small playground. The whole neighborhood looks empty, as expected. You don’t think any kids will be coming out to play in this weather.

The sound of the rain echoes a rhythmic pitter patter against the roof of the car. It's soothing, like it could lull you to sleep. You allow your tired eyes to close, and you almost drift off, but in a few moments, the sudden realization of being stuck in the rain, all alone somewhere secluded with your boyfriend begins to form an idea inside your head.

It's not the best idea to be thinking of right now, sure. But considering it's been raining non-stop for ages now, and considering you need some way to pass the time, you wouldn't exactly say it's the worst thing you could come up with.

You're just not sure about getting Aki to agree to it. You can already hear his response in your head: Really? You want to have sex right now? That's… We can't. Just wait until we get home.

You've been dating Aki for an entire year now, and sex isn’t exactly new to you anymore, since you both gave each other your firsts on the fifth month of being together. But even now, Aki still blushes whenever you undress in front of him, or when you ask if you can suck him off during foreplay.

He always tells you that you don't have to do anything for him, because he feels good just by watching you come undone on his fingers, his mouth giving you soft kisses on your clit while his tongue gives you long licks until your toes are curling as you cum. He's still the same as when you first met him, too shy to make the first move, and so dedicated to your own pleasure that he forgets about his own.

And you know he's definitely too embarrassed to consider having sex in a place like this. You've never done anything remotely intimate with him in any place besides the bedroom. Hell, sometimes he's too embarrassed just to kiss you in public.

You think you have an idea to convince him, though.

You turn to look at Aki, who has one hand resting on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping a random beat against it. He rests his chin in the palm of his other hand, elbow on the side panel of the door. The rain continues to fall, drumming against the rooftop, as though it’s trying to flood the empty streets outside, to wash off all that is unjust and evil.

Aki fidgets in the driver's seat for a moment, before you watch him pull out his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his pants. He lights one up with the baby blue lighter you always see him use, and then he twists the key in the ignition, putting it in accessory mode so only the lights and radio turn on.

He rolls the window down enough for him to flick the ashes out of it, making the petrichor invade your nose for a few moments. The rich, familiar smell of smoke he exhales replaces it, the wind drifts the scent towards you, along with the faint warm and woody cologne that emanates from him.

You gaze at his handsome features in awe, admiring his side profile; the dull luminescence overcasting a shadow on his angular jawline and high cheekbones, eyes of welded iron and a gaze just as hard — Eyes that have seen more than anyone could possibly imagine in one lifetime. An upper lip that protrudes a little further than the lower, and cheeks of dusty pink; they soften his expression, and his demeanor of steel.

You shake your head before you end up getting lost in your thoughts any further. You inhale deeply, breathing in the remainder of smoke, and the gentle scent of the cologne clinging to his clothes once again.

“Hey, Aki…”

His attention goes to you the second he hears your voice, deep blue eyes scanning your gentle features and your unreadable expression. He notices that you've taken your coat off.

“Hmm, what’s wrong?” Aki replies softly. “Are you feeling warm? I can turn the air conditioning on for a bit if you’d like.” He reaches for the air conditioning valve on the dashboard, but you grab his hand to stop him, shaking your head.

“I’m fine. It’s something else.” You peer up at him through your lashes. His hand is warm.

“What is it?” There’s a look of genuine concern apparent on his face as Aki puts out the cigarette in the portable ashtray he carries in his jacket. He scans all the parts of your body he can see — your arms, your hands, your neck, your shoulders, trying to see if there's any injuries, worried that you might have gotten hurt from the mission earlier.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head again with a chuckle, and you grab both of his hands, squeezing them tightly. “No, Aki. I told you, I’m fine. It’s just that...”

You can't help but trail off; feeling a little embarrassed, you start to fiddle with his fingers, averting your eyes.

“Spit it out already." Aki sighs impatiently, making you chuckle again.

“So impatient.” you answer, smirking, to which Aki gives you an unamused blank stare.

“I was thinking we could do something fun to pass the time."

Aki raises an eyebrow. “Like what?”

You lean in closer, and since the space between you and him in the car isn’t very big to begin with, your lips are already inches away from his.

You cup his chin between your finger and your thumb and whisper, “Like this…”

At once, you've closed the distance, and your lips press softly to his. Aki's eyes widen, but soon, he's relaxing into the kiss, his shoulders slumping, his eyes fluttering shut. The smell of you consumes his senses: vanilla and lavender, utterly intoxicating.

When the kiss deepens, he can taste the faint flavor of your lip gloss: cherry and mint. He kisses your lips over and over again like he can't get enough, soft but hungry at the same time.

You move to climb on top of him, and Aki adjusts himself, leaning back in his seat to give you enough space to straddle him comfortably. Your tongue presses to his; you kiss languidly and deeply, taking time to explore each other’s mouths. Your lips feel so good against his own, so perfect. They're fogging up his mind, like you're demanding him to forget everything except for you — and it’s working.

Your hands grip tightly onto his shirt as Aki skims his fingers down your shoulders and across your sides, resting them onto the curve of your waist. Right now, neither of you are thinking about getting back as soon as possible, or your lives, or anything like stupid devils and more missions. It’s just the both of you focusing on each other, and Aki’s mind is consumed only by thoughts of how good you make him feel.

You both pull away breathlessly, foreheads resting against one another. Still catching your breath, you roll your hips into Aki's lap hesitantly, testing the waters. Aki groans, but he gives your waist a firm squeeze, stopping you from continuing.

“We… we can’t. Not here." Aki looks at you through heavy eyelids. “Someone might see us.”

You slide backwards a little on his lap as much as the small space will allow, until you feel the steering wheel press into your back. Your hand slowly travels up his thigh, fingers playing with the zipper of his pants.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to be quick then.” You flash him a grin, but Aki stares back with an unamused expression. You reach up, toying with the earring on his lobe, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek. “Come on Aki, we haven’t seen another car for three hours. I doubt anyone’s going to see us in this rain.”

Aki doesn't respond, so you take matters into your own hands: in a few seconds, you've grasped the button on his slacks and popped it open. You're tugging the zipper down, relieving some of the pressure when you hear Aki inhale sharply, his eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn't make an attempt to push you away.

“Stop that.”

His voice is weak, it's shaky, it lacks the bite you normally hear out of him when you're at work. And even though he's telling you to stop, Aki's body betrays him. You can feel the bulge that's forming underneath his slacks, you notice how he lifts his hips a little to make it easier for you to tug his pants down. Your smirk grows wider.

“Do you really want me to stop?” you hum, moving closer to whisper into his ear.

“Baby-” Aki quips sharply, almost like a warning, but you continue your ministrations; you rub where the hem of his briefs meets his stomach with your thumbs, you kiss him softly behind his ear.

“Don’t you want me too?” You pull back to meet his eyes, and you tilt your head to the side, your lips pulling up into a coy smile. Aki's heart skips a beat at the sight.

Aki swallows thickly. “I…”

It’s not that he doesn’t want you. It's just that he'd much rather have you somewhere more comfortable, more familiar. When he's looking at you like he is now, his head spins with the thought of driving you home, tossing the door open only to carry you to his bedroom and pin you to the bed. He imagines your hands gripping the sheets, your voice calling his name with his head buried between your legs, his lips on your clit and his mouth on your pussy.

No, he definitely wants you, and he can't deny it, he can't stop thinking about it now that you've got him started.

Before Aki can give you a reply, you lean into his neck, giving him a few soft, teasing kisses on his warm skin, before you pull back and look at him again with the same imploring smile.

Aki sighs, half in annoyance, half in submission. You can see the affection behind his eyes when he looks at you; deep down, he’s a pile of mush, unbelievably endeared to you. He’s helpless when you ask for things out of the blue like this, especially when you give him such a pleading look with those doe-like eyes.

Aki takes in a long, steady breath before he asks, “Are you sure you want to do this here? Wouldn’t it be better if we wait until we get home?”

“I’m sure. Besides,” You nod softly, smiling, “Don’t you think it’s a little exciting to fuck me in the car?”

Oh, Aki thinks it’s very exciting. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he gets a certain rush just by imagining it, it's a kind of feeling he's never felt before. His dick throbs in his briefs when he thinks of fucking you in the backseat of the company car, and in public, no less.

Part of him is still nervous — What if you both make a mess, what if someone catches you? But another part of him wants to chase that rush, he wants to have you right here, and right now.

He tries to temper the fog in his head, focusing on the feeling of you against him. It's difficult when his heart is thumping loud in his eardrums, and when his core is thrumming with anticipation and need.

“I need you, Aki.”

Sometimes, he swears you can read his mind.

“I need you too.” he replies, and you don’t miss the faint pink color dusted on his cheekbones. Aki swallows, and he takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Just this once. We'll do this just this once, got it?”

Aki motions his head over to the back seat, and you take the hint, quickly climbing into it. He follows suit shortly after, and everything is a blur of clothes coming off and hungry, heated and sloppy kisses. You're left in just your underwear, and Aki is left in just his loose work slacks.

You can feel the familiar rush of white hot want course through your veins.You’re sure Aki feels the same way because in between kisses, when your hand goes back to stroking the tent in his pants, he seems to have only gotten harder. You give him one last firm squeeze, pulling away to position yourself on your knees in front of him.

It's a tight fit; the company cars are spacious, but you're still crammed in between him and the back of the front seat, it leaves you to rest your head on his legs and press your chest to his knees.

“What… what are you doing?” Aki stutters nervously, squirming a little in his seat when you reach for his slacks. You tug them down his legs the rest of the way until they're pooled at his ankles.

“Making you feel good.”

Your fingers feel warm on his skin when you push them under the waistband of his briefs. You help him out of them, his length bounces up to tap his stomach when you tug them all the way down. The sensitive, pink head tingles when it brushes against his skin, causing Aki’s entire frame to shudder with need.

You waste no time gripping the base of his cock and spitting on the leaking tip, stroking him slowly. Aki spreads his legs a little wider for you as your palm swipes the tip, getting his length wet with your saliva and his precum; the sensation has him moaning in pleasure.

Barely squeezing, you slowly move your hand up and down the shaft, you snicker a little when you hear him whimper slightly. You pump his cock lazily, and Aki reaches down, grabbing your arm to steady himself, thrusting his hips up into your hand, searching for more.

And you give it to him; Aki’s head falls back against the headrest with a thud, and he grunts as you start to stroke him faster. “Feels… so good.”

“More?” you ask, your voice husky. Aki nods feverishly in response.

“God, yes. Please. Don't stop, don't stop...”

The slick noises filling the car and the sound of Aki's desperate begs add on to the growing ache between your legs, they mix with the echo of the rain tapping the roof of the car and the windshield. He mutters a strained fuck when you wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and bring it to your warm tongue, giving the tip a tentative lick.

“S-Shit…” Aki hisses, his breathing unsteady, “That's it… Keep going.”

At first, you start by just trailing kisses down his tip to the underside of his cock, and Aki shivers at the faint sensation. When you trail back up, starting to take him into your mouth, you feel his palm lay softly on the back of your head, and then his fingers knot themselves into your hair, gripping tightly, holding the loose strands away from your face in a makeshift ponytail.

Aki watches you with his jaw slack, he quietly moans your name when your cheeks hollow, your head bobbing up and down his cock at a languid pace.

Aki grips your hair a little tighter. His eyes meet yours, his gaze is heavy with lust and with love. “So good, you're doing such a good job.”

With your saliva involved, every time you suck on his cock with your lips closed, there's a nasty, loud squelch — It reminds him that this is happening right here, that you're sucking Aki's cock in the backseat. He's in so much bliss he's hardly thinking about it, he can only focus on the feeling of your tongue swirling around his dick, of your warm mouth and the tip of his cock slightly touching the back of your throat when he bucks his hips up.

He rubs the back of your head gently, his eyelashes flutter when he looks at you.

“Your lips… They're so pretty.” Aki tells you, and you pull away from his cock with a loud pop.

“Yeah?” A teasing smile forms on your lips. “And you have a pretty dick.”

Aki's cheeks instantly blossom with color, petals of dusty rose scattering across his handsome features. His pupils blow out deep, dark and wide. You've always thought Aki has the most beautiful pair of eyes, they're like a door to his soul. Pools of deep dark blue that you could drown inside if you weren’t so busy sucking the life out of him in the back of the sleek company sedan.

You watch Aki draw his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating, before finally, he gently pushes down on the back of your head, with so little force you almost don't feel it.

“C’mon… keep going for me, just a little bit, please. Can you do that?" His voice cracks slightly, his tone high-pitched. You smile, nodding obediently, and you move back down to wrap your warm lips around him once again.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice sends vibrations over Aki's cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You look up at him one last time, batting your eyelashes before sinking your mouth down on him completely, taking him all the way down your throat. Tears well at the corners of your eyes, and you shut them tight to will them away.

Aki cries out, his thighs shaking. He stammers, “S-Shit, baby, too much, slow down...”

He's trying his hardest not to thrust himself into your mouth. His eyes almost roll into the back of his head when he feels the tip of his cock brush the back of your throat again, and he clumsily pushes your hair behind your ears as you suck eagerly on his cock.

It's so overwhelming, it's so much, it's more than he thinks he can take when one of your hands reaches up to grip the base of his cock, stroking in tune with your mouth, while the other massages his thigh, willing his legs to spread even further apart. But it feels so fucking good, Aki can't help but melt into you.

“God,” he groans through heavy pants, “You take me so well, p-please, don't stop.”

The way your hand glides up and down his cock along with your mouth is making Aki forget how to think straight. He feels dizzy, he knows he's getting close to the edge, and if he lets you keep going, he's sure he won't be able to stop himself from cumming. He grabs your wrist firmly — a silent demand to halt your actions — and he catches his breath.

In compliance, you freeze, and Aki slips his hand up to hold the side of your face, to cup your cheek and slowly coax you up while he leans down.

“C'mere.”

He pulls you into a fervent kiss, you press your palm to his chest and push him back into the seat until you can straddle his thighs and settle into his lap.

Aki can taste himself on your tongue; it makes him feel high, but as you lift your hips, grinding your clothed cunt against his length, getting your underwear soaked and filthy and making Aki moan into your mouth, he suddenly stops you. He reaches down, he grabs your waist and causes you to freeze, pulling away from his lips, a confused expression on your face.

No, no more. He needs you right now.

“I… I want to cum with you.” Aki admits, breathing hard, “I need to be inside you when I cum.”

You nod with a gentle smile. “Okay. Of course.”

You follow Aki's lead when he brings his palm to the small of your back, guiding you to twist and lay down in the backseat. The space is cramped, your head is propped up on the door, Aki has to slot his knee between your legs to make room for himself. The tight space makes it feel like he's even closer.

Condensation has formed on the inside of the windows from the heat of your bodies. Aki cranes down to meet your neck. Your breath hitches at the first touch of his lips on your skin, right on your nape, and then down, his open mouth wet and warm on the flesh below your collarbone.

“I’m gonna take your underwear off, okay?” he whispers softly without pulling away. You nod, and you lift your hips up slightly to allow him to pull down your lacy underwear. He tosses them to the side while he continues to leave gentle kisses on your chest.

“Spread your legs open for me.” His words are like warm honey, sweet and dizzying when they drip from his lips to meet your ears.

You obey, spreading your legs eagerly, as wide as the small space in the backseat will allow. Aki’s eyes grow dark with lust when he pulls back and sees your pretty pussy glistening in the low light, soaking wet for him — like a blooming flower, filled with sweet, sticky nectar.

He grazes his fingers up your dripping slit, he sighs the moment he feels your slick drip out onto the digits.

“God, you're so wet,” he croaks out, slightly breathless. His head dips, bangs hiding his face, and he tries to compose himself. “I'm gonna put one in.”

Then, Aki is slowly pressing a finger into your tight walls, sinking it in all the way and curling it into your core, causing you to whine and arch your back, your chest pressing up towards him. You wrap one arm around his shoulders, and you grip his arm with the other, your hips bucking up as another finger teases your entrance before sinking deep inside.

Your mouth falls open, your brows pinch. Aki kisses your forehead, he tugs you closer and leans down to brush his lips over your neck.

“Feels good,” you whine, and Aki delicately rubs your clit with his thumb, sighing when he feels your walls clamp around his fingers.

“Yeah?” He kisses your neck messily, curling his fingers into you deliciously.

“I’m close, I'm close-”

Your thighs close around his arm, and Aki slows his pace for just a moment.

He asks, “Do you want me to stop?”

Immediately, you shake your head, you plead for him to continue. Aki kisses your neck once more before he brings his lips to your ear, he presses his fingers into your sweet spot while toying with your clit, whispering honeyed words into your ear.

You're so pretty, you gonna cum for me? Go ahead and cum, baby, I've got you.

You tip over the edge just as he eases a third finger into you. You chant his name, your thighs shake and he drags his soaked fingers out to messily rub your clit through your orgasm with quick flicks of his wrist.

Aki kisses you as you come down; it's like time is frozen, like it's just you and him stuck in this moment. Your lips melded to his while you breathe life into him, yet at the same time, take his breath away with each kiss you give to his lips. He only pulls away to catch his breath and briefly bring his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Hold on,” Aki reaches down onto the floor, searching for his pants. When he finds them, he fishes his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a silver condom packet.

“What?” You prop yourself up on your elbows, eyeing him up and down. “Since when have you started carrying those around?”

Aki replies matter-of-factly, “Since we started dating.”

You smirk. “We have plenty of those at your house, you know. Thought you didn't want to have sex in public.”

“Oh, please,” Aki rolls his eyes, “I wasn't counting on using them for something like this. It's just… better to be prepared.”

It's not a complete lie, although, Aki can't deny he was thinking of the two of you getting caught in something spontaneous when he first slipped the condom into his wallet. He definitely didn't imagine this would be the place he'd end up using it, though.

You reach up, plucking the condom packet from his fingers, and Aki glances up towards the driver's seat. The sky seems even darker than before, and the rain is still pouring down, battering the glass and obscuring the view. The windows of the car are slightly tinted, and with this storm, there's still no-one to be found.

You tear open the condom wrapper, and you're sliding the lubricated latex down his hardened cock when Aki turns to look at you again. He settles his much larger hand over your own, he helps you tug the condom snugly on his length.

“So...” Aki starts, and you look up to meet his eyes. “You were planning on doing this without protection?”

He's so perceptive, you can't help but laugh. “Maybe. You're right, though. It's better to be safe.”

Aki's eyes narrow. His expression seems unamused, but the more he thinks about it, the more he considers what that would entail — fucking you raw, the deeper his cheeks redden. Perhaps he should have gone with what you wanted.

“Hey,” Your voice rouses him from his thoughts, “Sit back for me.”

As he leans back, settling into the seat, you climb into his lap to straddle him again, pressing your lips to his. Your palms roam up and down his chest, fingertips tracing the scars littered across his toned body.

His tongue snakes against yours, he kisses you deeply. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip before you detach and kiss his chin, then the edge of his jaw, trailing kisses down his to his neck where you suck beautiful fields of lilac and dusty pink into his pale skin. Aki gasps; his hands drift down your waist, the shape of your hips, and the arch of your back until they begin to knead the soft flesh of your ass.

You can't wait any longer; you raise your hips and grip the base of his cock, running the tip over your wet folds. Aki looks down, he watches, he bites down on his lower lip. Then, he meets your gaze, his eyes glazed over, his expression pleading.

Finally, you align his throbbing cock to your entrance, bringing yourself down halfway, slowly. You feel the fat tip of his cock enter you, you feel it stretch you out. Aki throws his head back, his eyes closed. He already feels like he could cum, just from this. Just from being halfway inside you.

“Shit,” he mumbles, “God, that feels so good, fuck, baby-”

You're both panting, and you've barely even taken him.

Aki cracks his eyes open to watch you sink down on his cock, the length slowly disappearing inside you. He sucks a hiss between his gritted teeth when you settle on him all the way, taking all of him in. Your heart is pounding wildly against your ribcage, your head is starting to spin.

“Too deep?” Aki asks between pants, and you shake your head. A few moments go by, you listen to the rhythmic drum of rain, Aki rubs soothing circles on your back and gives you a minute to adjust.

It feels so good to finally be inside you. Aki breathes in deeply, he groans when your hips shift. You take another few moments to compose yourself before you lift your hips a little, only to immediately drop back down on his cock, causing a low fuck to escape from his lips.

You start bouncing up and down his length, and he leans forward, latching his mouth onto your nipple. His hand gently kneads your other breast. You moan softly, hands reaching up to tug his messy hair out of his topknot, until your fingers can run through the strands and your nails can drag across his scalp, making him grunt and his spine tingle.

“You like that, baby?” you coo, and Aki hums in approval, sending vibrations over your breast. His eyebrows are knitted together, his eyelids are fluttered shut.

He swirls his tongue around your nipple and kisses your breast before pulling away. Your pace is getting a little faster, a little harder. The car is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin as you ride him, and the needy whines and moans coming from both you and him.

“I love it, love it so much,” Aki sighs, “S-So wet and tight for me.”

You grind your pelvis into his, and he grips your waist to help you along. You start to feel Aki raising his hips up from the seat. Ever so slightly, at first, just trying to feel you a little deeper. And then, desperately — he's matching your rhythm and rutting up into you, fucking you as you ride him with needy whines and fragile gasps.

His expression already looks so fucked-out: his pupils blown, his lips parted, hair down and messy to frame his face. He's practically drooling.

“That’s it, baby,” you purr as Aki thrusts up into you again, moaning from the pleasure. “Show me how much you like it.”

“Ngh — fuck.” Your words only seem to spur him on more. Aki digs his nails a little harder into your hips, he shakes his head to get his messy bangs out of his eyes.

“Oh, yes.” you moan, gripping his broad shoulders to steady yourself, “Right there, please, right there-”

Sweat drips from his forehead, droplets cascade down his chest. He's fucking right into your sweet spot, to the point where you hardly have to move, you just let him thrust into you. Your ass is slapping against his thighs. Aki kisses your cheek before grasping your chin between his fingers and pulling your mouth onto his.

The kiss is a wild clash of tongue and teeth, but you break away almost as soon as it begins, crying out when Aki buries himself into you hard. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, gasping over and over again in pleasure.

Suddenly, Aki's pace starts to slow, he's holding you still and trying to catch his breath. His thighs are twitching, and his heart is pounding, it's so loud he can hear it in his ears.

“Not… not gonna last much longer like this,” he mumbles, and you sit up to meet his eyes. There's an earnest, loving expression in the back of his gaze when he asks, “Can we change positions?”

You don't answer, still catching your breath, but you nod your head. Aki rubs your hips, he lifts you and pulls out of you slowly, he kisses your jaw and your throat. You feel his arm curl around the small of your back, and he gently maneuvers your body until you're under him, your back laying flat against the seat. The leather is cool and smooth on your skin.

Aki takes in the sight of you for a few moments, his eyes scanning your form. He admires the way you're splayed out beneath him; so beautiful, so angelic, as you always are. This time, though, it's a little different. It's a bit different to see you here, to have you in a place like this. It somehow manages to be exciting, but just as intimate as when he has you in his bedroom at the same time.

He can't hold back from telling you in a sweet voice, “You're beautiful. So beautiful.”

He closes his eyes, he listens to the drum of the rain for a second. Then, he grabs your waist, squeezing it carefully to let you know he's continuing, before lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

Aki is incredibly gentle when he enters you again, like he’s handling glass, easing inside of you slowly. But once he's halfway in, everything is so hot and wet and tight that he's nearly on the verge of losing control, he has to resist the urge to just fuck you senseless.

He exhales a shaky breath, you watch as his eyebrows furrow and God, it's so good, he's about to bottom out and it's such a snug, tight fit but it's just so right. All you can do is wiggle your hips and sigh feebly under the pressure, with Aki's forehead pressed to yours as he fills you.

He places one of his hands on your side, while the other grips your leg from where it's falling off the edge of the seat. He tosses it over his shoulder, he buries himself into the hilt.

“So good, Aki...” you gasp, your voice breathless, desperate. Aki leans down; his tongue flicks over your earlobe, he takes it between his teeth and sucks. His palms roam your body, gliding over your stomach and your sides. He kisses the shell of your ear, his warm breath fans out over it.

“God, please.” Your head tosses back, and you're begging for him to give you more, only for Aki to ignore your pleading.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and he kisses down your jaw, your neck, your shoulders. His lips reach your breast, he gazes fondly at the pretty shade of your skin before brushing his lips over your nipple. He licks it with the flat length of his tongue while he reaches down, bringing a free hand between your legs to rub soft circles over your clit with his thumb. You feel a wave of bliss twist up your spine, your cunt tightens around Aki's thick cock and his whole body shudders.

A shaky moan comes with your next words: “Aki… stop teasing. Please.”

You wiggle your hips, you whine and grip his shoulders tightly as he continues to kiss and suck on your breast, humming softly.

“Need you to fuck me, now, please, Aki?”

A ghost of a smile forms across Aki's face. He pulls away from your chest with a quiet pop, glancing up to meet your gaze. He mumbles, “You sound so cute… you want me to move, right?”

He rewards you with the slightest thrust of his hips, rutting himself into you, just a little bit. It's enough to make you gasp, to make you grip him tighter and tangle your fingers in his hair.

He knows you want him to move, he just wants to hear you say it.

Face warm and with your eyes screwed shut, you murmur his name senselessly, over and over again like a prayer, a plea. You mutter please, please, please again and again as Aki's lips ghost over yours, and then press to the side of your throat, where he kisses and lightly nibbles, leaving impressions of his teeth.

He tries to hold out, he tries to tease you as much as he can, only moving slightly, just enjoying the feeling of being buried deep inside you and the sound of your pretty voice. But it's hard to resist you, especially when you're begging for him. He longs to give you everything you ask for.

“Alright,” he murmurs, voice soft and gentle, “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want.”

Aki rests his head on your shoulder, and as he presses wet, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones, he quickens his pace, thrusting into you with deep, languid rolls of his hips. He reaches for your hands, pinning them above your head and threads his fingers with your own, holding them tightly.

He pulls back and meets your eyes; your gaze flickers over his and you watch his brows furrow from the building pleasure. Then, Aki leans in, all the way until he's kissing you and his tongue is slipping past your lips.

He begins to drill himself in fast, thrusting himself eagerly into you with long, deep strokes. The small space of the backseat causes his body to press up close to yours, and the perked buds of your nipples graze against his chest with every abrupt movement. Aki screws his eyes tightly shut, he lets go of your hands to hold the sides of your face as he kisses you. He focuses on the way your nails rake over his back.

He kisses you leisurely, deliberately, as if he's trying to capture every inch of your sweet taste on the tip of his tongue. You whimper into his mouth; his cock is hitting the spot that always makes you melt, it's causing you to arch your back into him. His tempo doesn't slow, nor does it falter. He continues to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and causing all your nerves to light up when his pelvis grinds into your swollen clit with each of his thrusts.

His hand steadies on the curve of your hip, he keeps the connection between your mouth and his as his palm trails lower, further downwards until it reaches the warmth of your cunt. You're soaked with both of your desires, your clit feels slick on his fingertips when he toys with it.

You grip him tightly, clutching onto him as if your bearings have been thrown and he is the only thing in this world that can keep you grounded — a solid rock amongst the heavy waves. You find sanity in the taste of his tongue, and stability in your hands grasping at his shoulder blades. He's close, so close.

He pulls away from your mouth, his warm breath mixes with yours, and you immediately gasp, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

Aki responds with a deep groan, his voice husky. “I won’t baby, I’ll give it to you as much as you want.”

He leans down, kissing the tip of your nose. And then, his tongue presses to your neck, he licks a long stripe up your skin, eliciting a stuttered whimper from your lips. Aki leans his head on your shoulder, he sighs into your nape. It's so cute, it's so sexy that you want him so badly. You're begging desperately under him, when moments earlier you were the one teasing him, like the little minx you always are.

You're always like this. You can tease him as much as you'd like, but he knows how much you need him. That's why you had him fuck you here, without being patient enough to wait for the two of you to get home.

The rain is just as steady as it was when you began. It overpowers the echo of Aki's skin hitting yours, it's a quiet sort of lull that soothes you the moment the sound fills your ears. Everything feels slow, warm and sleepy and tinged with electricity. Is this how things always were with him?

You reach for his face, you cup his cheeks and get him to look into your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you so much.” Aki responds immediately, breathlessly, and he slows down the rhythm of his thrusts.

In this beautiful instance of time, nothing matters, absolutely nothing but you.

You take him into your broad oceans of adoration, care, and unadulterated love. You sweep him out into your calm oceans and away from the rocky shores which expose the jagged edges of his past, a life already lived, that still manages to cut at his bones, that still digs deep into his sanity and claws at the worst of him.

Right now, you look heavenly, your hair splayed out onto the dark, leather seats, the warm light reflecting off your skin. Aki marvels at your beauty; the way the overcast lighting and shadows from outside cast over you makes you glow as if you're a piece of the moon itself, dislodged and sent down to earth to bring the brightest of lights into his life. An ethereal being for him to love and adore, who he's lucky enough to have all for himself.

Slowly, he works back to his previous pace, but his eyes never leave your form, he never stops gazing at you with such adoration and love. Your heart flutters ceaselessly inside of your chest.

Honestly, Aki is so turned on he's starting to lose control of himself. The mere sight of you underneath him, in the backseat of the company’s car, in the middle of an empty street — it’s something Aki couldn't have imagined in his wildest dreams. And yet, it feels so lovely to have you here, so perfect, he just can't get enough.

The simmering pressure that's been building up in him, deep and potent, begins to rapidly pool in his core to the point where Aki is sure he won't be able to hold back for much longer. The coil in his stomach is tightening, winding and threatening to snap. His bottom lip is bitten to hell and back, and his parched throat murmurs your name with a harsh sense of yearning.

Aki looks down at you with a hooded gaze, but he ceases to break eye contact with you. His forearms support his weight on either side of your body as he continues to thrust in and out, following the rhythm that always makes you come undone for him.

Pleasure consumes him, it consumes you, you're joined in the most intimate way two people could become one. The act is sinful, but it's coated in the deep bond the both of you share, it's intertwined with pure love and utter devotion.

“A-Aki,” You sound like you’re on the verge of tears, babbling as you beg, “I can’t, I have to… Aki, please, I-”

You interrupt yourself with a loud cry, tossing your head back as you immerse yourself in the very peak of your euphoria.

“Yeah?” Aki gasps back, fucking you deeply, perfectly, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him.

“Let go, sweetheart.” He's barely breathing the words, he grasps your chin and stares into your eyes. His thumb brushes over your lower lip. “Come for me – Come all over me.”

It’s impossible to say no. Not when his voice is so soft and convincing, so enticing. Not when he's fucking you this good, bringing you to heaven with every deep roll of his hips.

You can barely hear the rain outside anymore. The only thing you can focus on is the pleasure, the only sound filling your ears is the echo of Aki's heavy breaths and his desperate moans. You want to drown in this feeling forever, you want Aki's sweet words to melt into your skin, to brand you with his mark.

The whole car is shaking from the weight of Aki's thrusts as he fucks you into the seat. You're right on the edge, and one more deep thrust throws you over; your thighs shudder, you let go with a scream of his name. Aki works you through your bliss, drawing out your pleasure until the feeling of your walls clamping around his cock has him meeting his end along with you.

He groans your name, his head drops to your shoulder and his eyes screw shut. His thrusts grow erratic, clumsy, he mutters a mix of yes, and, I love you. He spills a warm load inside the condom as your walls throb around him, milking him for everything he has.

The white fades eventually, like lamplight dimming behind a shade. Your vision is hazy, the both of you are a sweaty mess in the backseat, and when you breathe in, it’s all musky and good and sweet, just the scent of sex and the feeling of Aki's body pressed closely to yours, his arms wrapped loosely around you.

After a few moments, Aki pulls out of you, and he pulls you close to him so you're huddled up to him. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, and you can feel it against yours. You breathe in and out, deeply, trying to steady your breathing. Aki does the same. Your hearts sync up to the same steady rhythm.

The afterglow begins to settle into Aki’s bones. His mind is a complete haze of pleasure, and the only thing on his mind is you, you, you. He sits up a little, and he turns to look at you, only to find that you're already staring back up at him with adoration in your eyes.

Aki stares into them for what feels like an eternity, stretches of time that must only be mere seconds, but feel like they've continued on for decades, horizons far beyond this unfairly short lifetime. Your gaze is his solace, his home. He knows he's too far gone.

When he says those three words again, it feels greater than the first time, more than the second. As if with every new time he confesses his love to you, the truth of it engraves itself deeper into his being.

Aki breathes, “I love you.”

You smile, you lean in and kiss his shoulder. “I love you too, Aki.”

Aki nuzzles your forehead weakly. He gives the two of you a few more moments to regain composure, and then he pushes himself up, discarding the condom and collecting both of your clothes. He helps you get dressed, he tugs his clothes on and adjusts them so they're just as neat as they were before. You hand him his hair tie as you finish buttoning up your shirt, and Aki ties his hair up before climbing into the driver's seat.

The rain has finally slowed down to a soft drizzle. Thankfully, when you climb into the passenger's seat and scan the road, you don't see anyone on the streets. You lean your head into the headrest, finally feeling the fatigue of the mission and the previous activities from earlier take over.

Aki looks towards you. He makes sure you're alright, he reaches for the keys and turns them in the ignition, firing up the engine.

You meet his eyes. One of his hands grips the steering wheel, and the other reaches for yours. He brings it close to his face, he presses a kiss to your knuckle. He lets go and settles his palm onto your thigh.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

a/n: pls forgive if you see any errors, dumblr likes to fuck up my posts for some reason.

#creaming in my pants when i wrote this #watch me not post for months again after this #feels good to put something out once in a while though #aki x reader #aki smut #aki hayakawa x reader #aki hayakawa smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man smut #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you #hayakawa aki x you #hayakawa aki x reader

5K notes · View notes

lxclerc · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐜𝐬𝟓𝟓

SUMMARY: if charles can't value what's in front of him then carlos is more than willing to take on the role. REQUESTED: yes but it's for a personal friend. WARNING: kinda toxic carlos, unrequited love, asshole carlos (not towards the reader), a little bit of angst, SMUT, 18+, oral (f receiving), mean carlos, slight corruption kink (blink and you'll miss it), overstimulation, spitting, lost of virginity, p in v, unprotected sex, fluff PAIRING: reader x carlos sainz, reader x charles leclerc WORD COUNT: 6.6k

NOTE: this was meant to be much much longer but i decided to cut it into 2 parts. part 2 will lead to eventual threesome with carlos and charles. let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

part 2: call out my name

masterlist

The first time Carlos met you, he knew you were off limits. Always following Charles around with that same lovestruck look in your eyes, your body coming alive whenever the monegasque touches you. Your affection for him is written all over your face.

“We’re just friends,” Charles is always quick to correct whenever anyone assumes otherwise. “Best friends,” he’d add as if that made it better and Carlos would watch the way your face would fall, lips slightly quivering as if you’re about to cry on the spot.

Frankly, Carlos thought it’s a waste. Why are you, whose incomparable beauty and wit, is settling for a man who very obviously doesn’t return your affections? Do you enjoy making a fool of yourself? Do you enjoy the pain?

Carlos has very few bad things to say about his teammate, getting along with him so well he’d even consider him a good friend but one thing is for sure, Charles is an idiot for not claiming you given the first chance to do so. Can’t Charles see the longing looks and lustful gazes frequently thrown in your direction, Carlos’ along them?

Though he supposes he should thank Charles for handing you to him with a pretty little bow, for letting you slip through his fingers so Carlos can snatch you right up.

But Carlos bided his time. Charles is Ferrari’s golden boy, their walking god. The prodigal son he’s called. Il Predestinato. The Chosen One. Carlos is the newest member of the team, one with much more to prove. Charles may very quickly deny speculations between the two of you but his claim all over you is still evident. In the way he touches you, the way he keeps you firmly by his side. Carlos had far too much to lose by immediately creating tension within the group.

He’s a patient man. He can wait, plan and plot. And so apart from the usual hellos when you meet each other and the mandatory polite smiles, he stayed away from you, choosing instead to always keep a watchful gaze on your figure whenever the two of you are in the same room.

He’ll play the game and he’ll play it well. He’ll wait. He’ll wait patiently knowing that by the end of it, it’ll be you puny on his palm. And it’s not like you notice, far too busy over your unrequited feelings for the monegasque to even look in his direction.

In his time watching you, Carlos learned so many things about you, things not many people notice. He learned your mannerisms, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, what makes you frown and what makes you pout. He knows your coffee order as well as his own and the foods you don’t eat. He learned the things you like and disliked, learning you till he’s got you memorized like the back of his hand, all his knowledge about you being kept safe for when he finally deems it’s time.

It isn’t like his attraction for you is pure though. Carlos wants you in such a primal way, wants to take you, to claim you. He can barely remember the amount of times he’d touched himself to the thought of you.

It seems the universe is on his side though. He hadn’t even needed to do anything to have you falling straight into his arms.

It was after the Bahrain grand prix, the first race of the season with Ferrari taking home a 1-2. Everyone is in their best mood, drinking the night away as celebration for the best opening start of the season. Carlos found you in the nearly empty hallway leading to the bathroom away from the crowd of people. You’re leaning against the wall with your arms wrapped around yourself, cheeks red and wide eyes a little less bright than usual.

You look like a wounded angel in your little white dress, legs and back bare with your hair falling beautifully over your shoulder, shorter strands littering your face. You look breathtaking and Carlos couldn’t not approach you.

And so armored with his usual friendly smile, he situated himself next to you. “Hey.”

You look up at him from under your eyelashes, offering him a smile of your own. You look sad though and he can’t help but hate Charles a little bit for it. “Hey, Carlos. Congratulations on P2.”

Carlos smiles at you again in thanks. “What are you doing here?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. In his drunken stupor, Charles had found a woman to entertain him for the night, all wrapped up in her on the table you shared.

But you only shrug your shoulders and the action made his eyes travel to your collarbone to the V neck of your dress leading to the valley of your breast. Your skin is covered in goosebumps and he noticed your visible shiver.

“I needed a breather,” you say, which isn’t exactly a lie. You need a breather from Charles and his suffocating presence. “How about you?”

The truth was that he followed you after he saw the way you removed yourself from the group, eyes downcast and bare skin so tempting he couldn’t not follow. He ignored your question and instead shook off the jacket he wore, placing it around your shoulder. You smile at him, a little less sad than the one you gave him earlier, as you slip your hand through the sleeves, the jacket being much too big and practically swallowing your body.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, both leaning against the wall. You look a little lost in your head, still hung up over the sight of Charles kissing some girl he just met. For the longest time, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re fine with your place beside him even if he never returns your feelings. Loving Charles has always hurt but you’ve been doing it for so long that you’ve become familiar with the pain, even allowing it to bring you comfort.

Carlos sighs, practically hearing your thoughts as his hand reaches towards you, placing them on your shoulder to force you to face him. For months, he’s watched you torture yourself over Charles from afar but he’s only now realizing that he can’t do it from up close with your sad, defeated eyes staring back at him.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he says and Carlos had to control his breathing as you looked at him like that, eyes so wide and naive, looking so pure and lost. He wants to protect you and ruin you at the same time. “You deserve better, cariño, not a boy who doesn’t know how to treat you right.”

“He’s all I’ve ever known,” your voice breaks a little and he wanted nothing more than to punch his teammate at that moment.

“That doesn’t mean he deserves you,” he says through gritted teeth.

You’re unable to say anything else as you melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his torso and he pulls you to his chest. His arms around you are tight, seemingly trying to keep you together as you break apart.

The two of you stay like that for a few seconds. You don’t cry, which is a good thing because Carlos doesn’t think he can handle that without marching back inside the club and punching the living daylights out of Charles, but you do stay in his arms, your hands clutching at his shirt.

“I’ll take you back to your room,” he says, deciding that the best thing for you right now is sleep. You only nod, lightly pulling yourself away from him.

The bar you guys had went to was just in the hotel lobby, a small place with barely any people and so he leads you out, hand firmly clasped against yours as the two of you ride the elevator to your floor.

“Charles…” you start, voice quiet. “Charles has my key card.”

Carlos nods. “You can stay with me.”

He half expected you to argue but you only nod your head as he leads you to his own hotel room, swiftly swiping the card to open the door, opening it bigger for you. The rest follows swiftly. Carlos lends you clothes to change into after having decided to share a bed. The two of you made quick movements to prepare for bed, the long day had you exhausted and determined to get under the covers.

And yet, as soon as Carlos turns off the light, it’s like all of your exhaustion melted away, finding yourself wide eyed as you stared at the ceiling, his presence next to you pressing against your skin. You’ve shared a bed with a man before, of course. Ever since you were kids till adulthood, you and Charles never had a problem sharing one. But Carlos’ presence is much different from Charles’ familiar weight next to yours. Carlos’ feels demanding, firm. His skin feels a little too hot, causing you to lightly pull down the covers to reveal more of yourself to the chilly, air conditioned air.

It’s a little terrifying. He feels much stronger than you. But it’s also a little exhilarating, your mind daring you to reach forward and touch his skin. He’s not wearing a shirt and you’re tempted to run your fingers through his chest, his jaw, his hair.

“Carlos,” you speak softly, still staring at the ceiling.

“Hmm?”

“Can I touch you?”

He doesn’t think you know how your question sounds. He doesn’t think you know how the innocence in your voice makes him want to wrap his hand around your throat. But nevertheless, he nods despite the fact that you can’t see him. “Yes.”

You don’t need to be told twice, shifting so you’re facing him, the darkness bathing the two of you hiding the blush in your cheek as your hand reaches forward, soft pads of your fingers hesitantly placing themselves on his jaw.

Your fingers are cold as it slides from his jaw to his neck, palm pressing against the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. His own hand places itself on your waist, drawing circles on the fabric of his shirt as your hand finally reaches his chest, tracing every bump and hollow curve till you reach his abdomen.

Carlos sucks in a breath, his hand flying to wrap around your wrist, stopping your movement. With the minimal light, he can see the way you looked at him, so so innocent as though you don’t understand why he stopped you.

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, amor,” he warned you, voice quiet as he stared into your eyes.

But a pool had started in your panties and for the first time that night, you actually feel alive. You wanted more of him. You want him to make you forget. “Make me forget tonight.”

Carlos groans at your words, cursing in Spanish that you barely had the time to decode before his lips are on yours, climbing on top of you as he holds your wrist over your shoulder. You moan into the kiss, trying to pull your hand away to be able to touch him again but his body is firmly pressing you against the mattress, knees keeping your legs open.

“Carlos,” you whine, desperate for some sort of friction as you rut against him.

“Don’t whine.” His voice is low and demanding, full of authority as his lips sucked on your neck, finding a sweet spot that had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. He’s sucking and biting, flawlessly marking up your neck as you all but fall apart under him.

“Please,” you mutter breathlessly, still pulling at your wrists. You’re desperate to be touched, trying to create as much friction as you wiggled under him.

“Please what, angel?” Carlos mocks. He’s waited for this for far too long to be nice now.

“Please touch me,” you don’t even hesitate, Charles being the farthest thing from your mind with Carlos all over you.

“Where can I touch you, niña bonita?” his words rushed through your veins, close enough to feel the thump thump thump as he pressed his lips against your jaw, planting open mouthed kisses

“Everywhere,” you breathe out and Carlos grins, finally letting go of your wrist, giving you free reign to run your fingers through his hair as he makes a quick effort to rid you of your – his – shirt.

“Are you sure?” He asks again, wanting to be absolutely positive that this is what you want to, that you aren’t just letting your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, Carlos, please.”

And who was he to deny such pretty pleas?

His lips left a path of destruction everywhere he touched, the burning sensation of his breath against your skin going straight to your core. Eventually, he reaches your nipples, tongue swirling and fingers pinching the other. His teeth marking all over your breasts as he continued his trail down.

“Stop me,” he tells you as his fingers pull the garter of your panties. “Stop me or I won’t be able to stop, baby.”

“Don’t stop,” you quickly say, writhing under him. “God please, don’t you dare stop.”

“You don’t have to call me god. My name is just fine,” he mutters against your skin as he pulls your underwear down. If this is the only night he gets with you then he’s going to make sure to ruin any other man for you. “Thought you were a good girl, baby. Always looking so innocent.”

His lips pressed against your clit, tasting the honey that seeped out of you, causing you to shudder as he situated himself between your legs, elbows pushing your legs apart. His tongue flats on your clit, swiping a lick as you moan out, fingers clutching desperately at his hair, a chorus of pleases and Carlos tumbling out of your lips. He doesn’t think there could be a much better sound as he pokes his tongue into your entrance, your tight walls pushing him out.

Your body is arching up as he sucked at your clit, making Carlos place his arm around your stomach, pushing you back down as his other hand gathered your wetness, spreading it all over your folds before slowly pushing in, a cocky grin on his lips as your moan grows louder.

His tongue and fingers worked together, one slowly pumping in and out of you as he let you adjust and his lips sucking into your clit. He swears he’s meeting his creator as you come into his mouth, voice becoming strangled and your back once again arching as you scream his name, loud enough that Carlos hopes everyone in the floor can hear it. You sound angelic and sinful all at once.

“One more, pretty girl,” he tells you. “Tan bonito como este,” he tells you, watching as you shudder with each swipe of his tongue. You’re far too gone to even care about what he’s saying. “Y todo mío.”

Your fingers running through his tousled, demanding him to keep going and to stop at the same time, the faint taste of iron on your tongue as you bite your bottom lip, soft angelic melodies of his name escaping your lips. He sucked harder, wrist working faster as he added another finger in, pumping in and out of you at a much faster rate than he had a while ago, working to bring you to your second orgasm of the night, one he knew you needed but in reality, he needed more.

"That feels good doesn't it love? You like it when I touch you like this?" Carlos groans and rubs your clit faster. You buck your hips and nod quietly. "Use your words angel," he taunts.

"Yes, yes, oh my god, yes please. yes," you moan loudly.

“Good,” he says, a smug smirk playing on his face. It’s incredible how easy it is for you to submit to him, to beg to his name as if he’s your newfound religion.

It’s an ego thing as his tongue carved Sainz on your clit with the promise of making you his. His kisses stamped your inner thigh, teeth gently nibbling on your skin as he marked what’s his. You don’t know it yet but you’re his. Once he’s done with you, you’ll never want another man again. His tongue slipped inside you, his finger now tracing his name.

“Can I… can I come please?” Your voice is shaky and broken as you ask him, full of obedience that he didn’t even have to teach you as you so easily surrendered yourself to him and his control. In that moment, your body belonged to him and you both knew it.

“Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel this good,” he demands, your cum dripping from his lips. It takes effort for you to even comprehend his words and much more to force your eyes open as you meet his hazel ones. His efforts doubled in speed and strength, your screams becoming louder as he pushed you to the edge.

You gasp loudly as you feel your whole body trembling even more and then you feel your body tense as you come against his mouth. Your whole mind feels like exploding and all you can see is stars. You feel so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’reexperiencing, your body is still trembling as you feel yourself come down from your high.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he tells you softly as he crawls over to your side, brushing the hair from your face and placing his lips on you. Your body is motionless against his as you climb down from your back to back orgasm.

“Open your mouth, cariño,” he says, gently tapping at your jaw. You comply as he spits into your mouth, the taste of you now present on your taste buds. You’re quick to swallow, making Carlos grin at you. Your undeniable submission to him gives him a kind of satisfaction.

“Are you ready for me, pretty girl?” He asks softly, hand on your cheek a deep contrast to what his fingers had been doing to you a few moments ago. “Do you want to stop?”

You shyly shake your head. Carlos thought you looked most beautiful like this, so incredibly ruined for him. “I’m not- I haven’t–” you start, stuttering over your own words.

“Speak up, cariño,” he tells you and your cheeks heat up even more.

“I haven’t…done it,” say finally, voice increasingly getting shyer with each syllable.

For a minute, Carlos was frozen, not having expected your admission. You’re twenty four years old after all, he had expected you to at least have some experience, but he knows you’re telling the truth from the light blush on your cheeks as you all but hide your face to his shoulder, touching him so surely as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.

He could feel himself melting a little, your shy smile and red cheeks so adorable that he couldn’t help but smile back at you as he wraps his arm around your naked figure, pulling you closer towards him.

“We don’t have to,” he assures you. “We can just go to sleep now.”

“I want to,” you’re quick to say, placing your chin on his shoulder. “I was saving it for…”

For Charles. You don’t bother finishing your sentence, you both already know. The sting in his chest is instant, a reminder that you’re not his, at least not fully.

And then the pride rolls in. You’ve saved this for Charles for years, probably rejecting a multitude of men along the way and yet you’re so willingly offering it to him now, with no hesitation and no question with the monegasque the farthest thing from your mind as you stared up at him with those big eyes of yours.

Before you can say anything else, his mouth is on yours again, whatever little softness his kiss carried a while ago is gone now. He’d never let you go, not when he’s already got a taste. There’s no way he’s ever letting you go now, not when you’re holding on to him like that, nails digging on the skin of his back, naked body pressed against his.

And if he does lose you, if another man gets to touch you after him, he’ll make sure to ruin you for them. He’ll make sure it’s him on your mind every time, his name you’re begging to scream out.

You’re warm. Tingling with anticipation threaded into your nerves and heat. And you feel your body throbbing all at once as Carlos claims your mouth. Your hands are eager, pulling at the shorts he’s still wearing, a whine at the back of your throat.

“Carlos,” you breath out, needy all over as he takes his time marking your skin.

“What did I say about whining?” He asks, immediately getting you to shut your mouth and instead settling for biting your lower lip.

Still though, Carlos does as you ask, pulling away from you in order to remove his clothes. You gulp as you watch his unbearably hard cock reach his stomach. He was carved by god himself you’re sure. No mere mortal can possibly look as beautiful as he does now in all of his naked glory, chest perfectly refined, hair tousled and back and arms littered with scratches.

Heat travels to your cheeks once you realize you’re staring. You try to avert your eyes but Carlos is crawling back at you, hands cupping your cheeks as he all but forces you to meet his eyes. “You can stare, Amor. I’m yours to look at.”

His declaration ignites a blazing warmth in your chest, giving you the courage to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you in order to once again connect your lips. He’s yours. He’s yours. And you’re his. You’ve never felt this alive before, never quite felt like this before. Not with any man and not with Charles. You’re his. You know that now.

“You’re beautiful,” you mutter to no one but the world as his lips travel from your lips to your jaw.

Carlos only hums as his lips travel all over your face and neck. You whimper as his mouth presses kisses all over your sensitive skin, your hands traveling to his hair and tugging lightly.

“I have been thinking about this moment for so long.” He rasps, kissing your throat softly. Your body trembles against his as he continues to cover your face and neck with kisses.

Your brain is all over the place, eyes heavy and clouded as you try to tell him how much you’ve been wanting him. All your thoughts overwhelm you, disabling any rational understanding of what is going on. You just want him. You need him.

All you can taste, all you can feel, all you can see, all you can think about is him.

The whine that comes out of you only drives Carlos to seek out more of those sounds, they are potentially the most amazing sounds he’s ever heard. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an attempt to bring him closer to you, your hips accidentally move against him making him groan.

“Didn’t take you for the needy type, angel,” Carlos teases and you want to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already. You needed him so badly but you know doing so will result in nothing. He’s going to kill you with anticipation, have you begging for his touch.

“Carlos,” you beg, wanting to cry with unmet arousal. “Please. Need you so bad.”

“Shh,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

His lips travel to your breast, greedily claiming your nipple with his mouth. His tongue circles your most sensitive nerve, making you let out another moan. You whine as your cunt starts clenching around nothing, begging for attention. Instinctively you start moving your hips against his making him groan against your skin. His lips leave your breast with a wet pop and he looks at you intensely as you try to catch your breath. You’re panting, barely able to think straight.

He groans as you continue to grind up against him, grasping your hips to halt your movements, causing a whine out of you as he pushes your hips against the mattress, so desperate to feel him again. Finally, he slowly moves towards the bed and gently spreads your thighs apart as he fits himself between them. He positions his body against yours, hand coming up to your face to caress your cheek again as you feel his other wander all over your body making you breathless already.

You feel his cock momentarily against your wetness which makes you thrust against him.

“I need you,” you pant against his lips, but Carlos pulls his hips away slightly with a small smirk on his face. “Please…”

You need him so bad and you’re getting impatient as you feel him press kisses all over your neck, being much gentler than you know he’s used to. He’ll have his way with you eventually but for tonight, your pleasure and comfort is all that matters. Panting, you feel him slowly go down your body. He momentarily wraps his mouth around one of your nipples and sucks lightly making you arch your body against his.

You feel yourself dripping down the sheets, whining helplessly as you become desperate with need.

You can’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his cock in order to relieve yourself some tension. It turns slick as you keep grinding yourself against him, and he has no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

“Oh fuck,” Carlos rasps, reaching down and grasping himself to line up between your lips. He keeps rubbing the head of his cock to your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you squirm underneath him and back down. He loves the sounds you make as he spreads himself around your slit, where you’re still dripping for him.

You gasp openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You’re still so so wet. Carlos swallows your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kisses you full of fervor, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

You’re trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covers your whole body with his as you writhe against him, wishing he was just in you already.

“Are you ready, cariño? Let me know if I start to hurt you or if you want to stop.” He whispers as he looks deep into your eyes.

You bite your lip and nod, too shy and excited to talk.

“I’ll try to go slow at first, okay, angel?” He says before leaning back down to kiss your lips again, he reaches down and grasps himself. He is rubbing the tip firmly over your swollen clit and your mind is all over the place.

“Please, Carlos,” you stutter, your body trembling even more.

He rubs himself up and down your slit for a while longer before one of his hands lean down to spread your outer fold sliding his cock teasingly around your core. You arch your back slightly and whine out of frustration.

You want to beg him to do something again as he leans down to line up his cock with your entrance, your legs trembling under him with a mix of nerves and excitement. Carlos slides in so slowly it’s agonizing. He’s careful, like he’s afraid you might break.

You let out a long broken whine as he gradually pushes more of him inside you. He’s so big, stretching your walls. It feels as though your organs are moving around to give him space with how full you feel. He leans down to kiss your lips gently as he moves more inside, hoping the sweetness of the embrace will soften the sting.

Once he’s fully inside you, you sigh against his lips. You feel so full, as if he’s made for you and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely has you seeing stars and digging your fingernails into his shoulders.You feel one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reaches up to your face.

“You okay?” He asks worriedly.

“Yeah, I just need a moment,” you mutter, breathless.

He smiles as your eyes are drifting close, both so full and exhausted at the same time.

You feel yourself gradually adjust to his size, your lower lip between your teeth as you open your eyes again to look up at Carlos’ beautiful sight above you.

“Please move,” you beg.

He nods quietly and starts by thrusting into you slowly, one hand reaching down to play with your clit, while the other holds your hand tightly. The sting hurts you for a while, but it easily changes to pleasure as he moves against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he’s giving you is mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunts as he drops his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin there and to whisper sweet nothings as he sets a pace.

“So tight,” he groans.

The angle is so good, but when his pace picks up he finally leans down to wrap his arms around you, making you gasp as he thrust into you faster and harder, pinning you against the mattress and taking full control of your body.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Doing so so good for me. Eres tan perfecta.”

You whimper as his lips move back up against your own as he kisses you passionately.

At a certain point you feel the end of his strokes slide into a pressure point inside you that has you clenching like a vise around his cock. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, back arching as he keeps thrusting into you, the feeling of him repeatedly hitting your most sensitive spot causing a loud noise you’ve never made before escaping your lips, a strange cry of his name.

“Fuck,” Carlos muttered against your ears, feeling your walls clenching around him, letting him know that you’re close. “You’re so loud for me, angel.”

“God.” You’re lost in pleasure, tears streaming down your face as you desperately claw at his skin. Whatever pain you were feeling before is lost now as you all but float in a cloud of lust.

“Hold it in, baby,” he demands, tongue licking your tears away as his hand pushes your hair out of your face, wanting to see you fully as you reach your high.

“Please, Carlos,” you sobbed, squirming under him. “Need to…need to come please.”

His thrust doesn’t stop or falter, getting harder and harder as his hand grips your waist. There would surely be a bruise of his handprint there tomorrow but you’re far too gone to care. “Look at you so desperate to cum on my dick. Who’s making you feel this good, angel?”

“You!” You cry out, more than willing to pledge your life away to him at this point, the only thing that matters is your release. “Only you! Please, Carlos.”

“That’s right. Only me. Sólo yo.” Carlos smirks at the sight of you under him, so completely defenseless. “Go on, baby.”

You didn’t need to be told twice as you spasm under him, losing control of your body. Your vision is hazy as you ride out your high, your body out of your control as your nails dug to his skin, teeth buried on his shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure quite like this.

You feel his cum shoot inside your walls as his body slightly relaxes on yours. He’s barely broken a sweat, his stamina completely phenomenal, but he knows you’re spent and after tonight, you deserve a break, especially considering it’s your first time. And so with that, he gently pulled out of you, making sure not to put anymore pressure on your tired body as he dropped to the place next to you.

Despite your clear exhaustion though, there’s no hesitation in your movements as you turn to him, breathing shallow. Placing your seemingly heavy head on his chest, you throw your arms over his stomach. Carlos’ breath hitched. He had just fucked you, made you come three times and yet somehow the action of you so naturally cuddling to him had his heart racing.

“You did so good,” he told you gently, arms more than welcoming, immediately wrapping around you. “Are you okay, niña bonita?”

“Yes,” you mumble, voice hoarse from all the screaming as you bury your face deeper into the crook of his neck. “Tired.”

“Sleep,” he told you softly, lips planting a kiss on the top of your sweaty hair as he pulled you closer towards him.

You let out a hum, already drifting off to dreamland with your naked bodies pressed against each other, not an inch between the two of you as you tightly held on to each other.

—

The next time you saw Carlos was the next day as you climbed into Ferrari’s private plane. Nearly the entire team is hungover, half asleep as they lugged their baggage, you along them but for an entirely different reason.

As soon as you stepped into the plane, the Spaniard's eyes were on you and yours on him. You wore the jacket he lent you last night over a simple shirt and jeans, opting to wear something comfortable for the flight rather than something stylish. He, on the other hand, still looked breathtaking in a simple buttoned up shirt and jeans, hair tousled as he watched the way your cheeks turned red.

Charles, far too tired and sleepy, barely noticed as you disappeared from his side as you all but made a beeline towards Carlos.

“Good morning, angel,” he greets you, heart soaring at the obvious way you seeked him out, not even hesitating to leave the monegasque’s side in favor of his. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you admit, still with a nervous tone to your voice as you take the seat in front of him. “But worth it.”

As Carlos reached forward to lightly push your hair back, his touch now so familiar, you missed the way Charles searched for you upon noticing you’re no longer next to him. You also missed the look of pure jealousy in his eyes, one you’ve longed to see for as long as you can remember. But Carlos hadn’t and for the first time, Charles saw a version of his teammate he’s never seen or expected, one that’s very obviously staking his claim on you, eyes challenging Charles to fight back as you lean into Carlos’ touch.

Carlos didn’t have to say it but Charles understood anyway.

Carlos is a patient man and he played the game so well, biding his time properly and it had all paid off so well, everything falling perfectly into place as the sight of you next to him became a common occurrence. You often wear his shirts after nights in his hotel room, meeting up with Charles for breakfast only to practically reek of Carlos’ cologne. He’s all over you even when he’s not around, his imprints on your skin, his scent all over you, reminding Charles that he’s lost a game he hadn’t realized he was playing.

And when he is around, it’s not like Carlos is trying to hide it, an arm always around your waist or sometimes hands on your hips. This time though, it’s Charles that’s watching. He watches as the Spaniard touches you so easily as though he’s done it a thousand times before. He watches as you’re quick to relax against his chest, your soft easy smile painting your face and a certain glint in your eyes that Charles knows so well.

Carlos, as Charles is beginning to realize, is a pretty fucking great liar. When they’re together with the team, talking cars and strategies or with the marketing team, doing challenges and interviews, it’s like nothing’s ever changed, both of them still so close. The only noticeable difference now is that you’re rarely on Charles’ side. Instead, you choose to always be by Carlos’, barely sparing your childhood best friend a glance as you stare at the Spaniard as though he hangs the stars and the moon.

Eventually though, the unsaid stare off they often shared comes to a close. It had been during the spanish grand prix with Charles naively thinking he’s doing his teammate a good deed by knocking on his door before the marketing team comes and nags him about a video that needs shooting. Charles didn’t want them to be late and he didn’t want Carlos to have to stand for a lecture.

But when he opens the door, not having bothered to knock, thinking it’s just another boring weekend before a race with Carlos on his phone like the thousand other weekends before that.

Charles couldn’t be more wrong though because instead of the sight of Carlos engrossed in his phone, you're laying on his lap, the dress you wore bunched up around your waist and your eyes shut close as soft moans escaped your lips. Carlos has a hand holding you in place while another is busy assaulting your cunt, three fingers deep inside you, pumping in and out at such a brutal pace that has you biting your lower lip till you can taste blood, tears dripping down to your cheeks.

Charles is frozen in place, the sight of you so open, so perfectly spread for Carlos, caused him to swallow deeply. He can hear the filthy sound of Carlos’ fingers leaving your cunt only to unrelentingly push back in.You’re far too gone to even notice his presence, your fourth orgasm on Carlos’ fingers having completely drained your body as you keep taking more, but Carlos looks up at Charles, the pace of his fingers disappearing within the lips of your cunt never stopping as he raises an eyebrow.

The smirk pulling at his lips brings Charles back down to earth, forcing himself to look away from your naked body as he spun on his heel, shutting the door behind him.

Charles can feel his heart racing, his pants suddenly much tighter than it had been minutes ago. The sound of your moans keeps repeating in his head, completely distracting him from the tasks at hand.

After fixing his erection, Charles finds his way back to the hospitality, reuniting with his media aid as he tries to shake the sight of you whispering and messy on Carlos’ knees.

“Where’s Carlos?” One of the Ferrari people asks him, but Charles only shrugs, not quite sure if he’s able to use his voice.

A few minutes pass as the team waits for Carlos till the Spaniard finally emerges from his drivers room, hair messy and lips swollen. No one but Charles seems to notice though and the memory of you on his lap haunts Charles as he meets his teammate’s gaze, smug and proud as he runs his hand through his hair.

Carlos claps Charles on the shoulder, mischief clear in his hazel eyes. “Finders keepers, right?”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz fanfic #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst

5K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Unexpected 55

Warnings: non/dubcon, child endangerment, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, Andy is nasty in this, violence, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You've done this before. Waiting out a man. Biding your time. Before, you didn't realise it. You just did it.

With Colin, you just went through the motions, waiting for something, anything to change. With Lloyd, it was waiting for the next combustion, the final one that would send it all spiraling.

Now, you're just waiting on yourself. Because now you know it's up to you. It always has been. You were just too stupid, lazy, and blind to see it.

So you do what you have to. That's nothing new. That's the easy part. Luna is the only one keeping you going and you know, you're the only one to keep her going.

When she cries, you go to her. You're no longer play the part, distracting yourself with your own motherhood, trying to get through the day. No, you want to be there for her, you want to comfort her. And in turn, as small and innocent as she is, she does the same for you.

And when Andy needs you, you bite down and get through it. Another familiarity. When he touches you, when he kisses you, when he says those disgusting things. Clawing, pawing at your chest, sucking and biting at your body like and animal, rutting with desperation until he's breathless. He thinks the noises you make are just as delighted as his own. You let him believe it, just like you let him believe this little makeshift domesticity is real.

Until the moment comes. Until you will keep that promise to yourself. To her.

You sit in the rocking chair, Luna on your chest, peaceful in his absence. You don't know why he left, you're just happy he did. It's a moment to rest, for you and your daughter.

She's getting bigger. Four or five months now, you think. Things change so fast yet move so slow.

As you let your eyes close, there's a thump at the door. The locks grinds back noisily as the baby stirs against you. You huff and try to get her to fall back asleep as Andy enters. He leaves more often these days but not for very long

"Shhh, she's asleep," you warn him, watching her eyes slit, she's almost there.

He shoots you a look as you peer up at him but doesn't say anything. You tisk. You know what he wants. You stand carefully and take Luna to her crib as you hear him pacing around behind you.

"I don't what I'd do if I didn't have you, honey," he rambles, "I just... the world's a crazy place."

He's telling you, you hide your disgust at his lack of self-awareness as you lay Luna down.

"It's going to be okay though, we're going to be okay," he rants on as you face him. He has his shirt halfway up his torso, "aren't we?"

"Sure," you answer.

"I just..." he rips his shirt over his head, "I need you so bad right now."

You nod and come forward, forcing a curve to your lips. He's as easy as any other man, just a little less stable. It's funny to think so when you have Lloyd to compare. You put your hands on his chest as you approach him. You caress him, feeling the soft hair beneath your fingertips as the tension uncoils from his shoulders. He puts his hands on your hips and steps closer.

"Are you full?" He asks.

You look at him, he's staring at your chest. Your stomach churns. Your tits are close to ready, just in time for Luna to wake, but he only cares about himself. You don't answer as he feels along the belt of the robe and unknots it. He pushes it open and dips his head down, kissing your chest as he growls.

He angles you towards the bed. You zone out as you let him and fall back beneath him. He puts his lips around your nipple and you cry out as he sucks. You hate that feeling, you hate the noises he makes, moaning like a pathetic little beast. He squeezes your tit as he keeps his mouth sealed around the bud. You grit your teeth and focus on breathing.

He shifts to put his knees between yours, pushing them apart so you're open to him. Without lifting his head, he picks at the front of his jeans, shimmying them down as his need builds. He dribbles down your chest as he parts and sits up on his knees. He pulls your legs over his and strokes himself, pressing his tip to your cunt impatiently.

You're dry as he rams insides. He grunts and holds himself deep, the tendons in his neck taut as he grips your hip, his other hand groping your chest meanly. He ruts, slamming into you as hard as he can. There's no precursor left. He doesn't pretend. He takes what he wants and you don't stop him. He accepts your complacency as love.

The bed shakes, the frame hitting the wall, bang, bang, bang. The noise hammers away at your soul and the silence. You hear Luna murmur, babbling as she awakens. She doesn't cry even as you want to. She's just a baby. She shouldn't be here. He shouldn't do this with her right there. Only the bars of a crib to protect her.

You put your hand on his wrist and the other on his stomach. You need him to be done.

"That's it," you growl through your teeth, "harder."

He obeys easily. You swallow down your whimpers as his hips crack against you. He's almost there. You can feel it.

"Come on, honey, give me it," you squeeze his wrist tighter and grunt.

"Oh yeah, you want it," he growls, "you want me to give you another baby?"

You can't help but choke. He doesn't notice as he dips his hips into you, looking down to watch his motion. You curl your lips in repulsion. Just get it over with.

"Yes," you gulp out, "yes, give me... your baby."

Your mouth is bitter as bile rises in your throat. He groans, louder and louder, and falls over you, his hips rolling frantically as he chases his release. He buries his face in your neck.

"You wanna be a mommy again," he rasps, "be a good mommy, mmm--"

He grunts and snaps his pelvis, once, twice, three times, then quakes as you feel him spill into you. You hold your breath as your eyes tinge. He slides his arms around you, inside the open robe as he pants. He clings to you, pushing himself as deep as he can get.

"I can't wait to be a daddy," he purrs.

"Mhmm," you rub his shoulders, "I know, honey."

He doesn't move, even as Luna begins to fuss. Your chest begins to thrum as she cries and you pat Andy.

"Please, she needs to eat."

"Mmmm," he drags a hand up as he leans on one elbow, fondling your tit again, "I want a little more."

"Andy, honey, please," you plead, "she won't have much."

He snarls and pouts as Luna cries loudly. He jams himself into you so you whimper and slides out roughly. He bounces off of you and sits at the end of the bed. He stretches his neck and flicks you away with his fingers.

"Fine, go ahead," he sneers, "but after, you can get on your knees and give me a suck."

You shudder and sit up. You glare at the back of his head. You could bash it in but you know you're not strong enough.

"Yes, honey," you turn your legs over the side of the bed and stand. You try not to wretch as a gush flows down your thigh.

You close your robe and tie the belt, crossing to the crib as Luna wails. Your hands linger on the thick belt. You pull them away before your thoughts can stray. You take Luna out of the crib and put her to feed. Andy stands and strips off his jeans and briefs.

You walk around as you feed Luna, when she calms, you cover your chest again and keep her in your arms. Andy huffs as he plays with himself in the bed. His impatience strikes another flash of anger in you. The belt of the robe cinches you tightly as you shift your daughter in your arms. You whisper to her and lay her down again, handing her one of her crinkle toys.

You back away and pull the curtain across the space between the bed and her little nursery. You turn to Andy and shake away your agitation. You put a knee up on the bed and lick your lips.

"My turn?" You ask as you crawl over to him, grabbing his half-flaccid dick.

He nods excitedly and you feel him twitch in your grasp. You move between his legs and tease him, hovering your lips just above his tip. You look up at him with a smirk. You're done waiting.

🍑

This, you haven't done before.

You sit against the bedframe in the dark. It's quiet and still. Eerie even.

It is the isolation, it's not the prison cell built to look like a home, no it's what needs to be done. What you're going to do.

Luna sleeps soundly in her crib, only just dozing after another bout of frustration. And beside you, another infantile creature, snoring to his content. The taste of his salty flesh sickening on your tongue.

You inhale deeply and let it out as you feel along the fabric of your terry robe. Slowly you tug the belt from the loops, inch by inch. Your chest coils tightly as it comes free and you hold the lax fabric in your hands. You stare at it in the small glow of the nightlight plugged in only a few feet from the bed.

You're jittery as you wind each end around your hands, yet numb as you push away all your thoughts. This isn't a time for doubt. You're done letting that hold you back. You pull the belt taught between your hands. It's innocuous at first glance, probably why he never even thought to remove it from the robe. To him, it was a simple knot he pulled to get what he wanted. To you, it's freedom.

You glance over at him, his shoulders broad, moving slightly with each breath. You pull the belt to full tension. You have one chance, you have to make it count. For more than yourself.

You get on your knees and edge towards his back. You raise your hands and hover them over him, shaking as you build the nerve. This isn't just as simple as tying your shoes, this is... life and death. Yours, his, Luna's.

You swoop the belt down and pull it tight around his neck. He grunts and twitches away. You quickly knee him onto his stomach and straddle his back, bringing your weight down on him.

You twist the belt around itself and pull, pull, pull. He chokes and spasms, pushing himself up. You can't stop him, he's too strong. You hook your legs around him instead, staying latched on as he gasp and claws at his neck.

He falls onto you, knocking the air out of you, but you don't stop. The heat flowing through you keeps you fighting. He rocks atop of you, writhing and kicking, reaching back blindly as he scratches down your face. You won't let go. You can't. You've come this far there's no going back.

It goes on for what feels like eternity. He just won't stop. You twist the belt tighter and tighter, the gagging battle for his life souring your stomach. Then he's still. All once, it's over and he lays limp atop you. You don't loosen the belt until you're certain he's entirely still.

You drag yourself from under him, watching him as you think he might come to life at any moment. He doesn't move. Is he dead? Did you do it?

Even if he isn't, it's a chance. This is your escape. This is it.

#lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #unexpected #series #the gray man #andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #defending jacob

220 notes · View notes

morallyinept · 3 months

Text

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 5

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 6.7k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie and Jude team up to prolong their survival, and find something unexpected.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 4

Day 3 on the island…

Being deprived of sleep practically for the last forty-eight hours, Frankie nodded off, eventually succumbing to that alluring pull into the murky depths of the unconscious dark.

A light snort of his breath being caught in the back of his raw throat jolts him awake some hours later; that and the nightmare of reliving the plane’s crash over and over again, like on some twisted replay just to torment him, even in his bleak dreams.

Being adrift on that piece of wing debris, and the suffocating loneliness and panic, replaced his usual black dreams and twisted them into something sharp with talons, which was biding its time in devouring him whole.

When he comes to, he’s lying down on the hard, uncomfortable ground inside the cave mouth; his arm numb from supporting his head whilst he slept like he was dead, and a small part of him wishes he was already when he remembers the reality as it all comes crashing back.

Jude’s absence is noted as his sight comes back into focus and the stark memory of another survivor pulls at the threads of his surly unconsciousness.

Frankie sits up slowly, but still feels dizzy and as though something heavy has sat on his head all night crushing it.

He turns and stares down into the deep pit of the cave and wonders if something is watching him back with rabid, hungry eyes, and it makes him shudder.

He then spies the bottle of water, almost full and waiting for him.

He knocks it over in his haste to reach for it with shaky hands.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as some of it sloshes over the ground.

The temptation to down it all in a few glugs is strong and he really has to stop himself from finishing it off as he begins to drink the warm, yet refreshing, liquid that coats his stagnant tasting mouth.

But then something in his brain tells him it's best to save it; slow sips and keep dehydration at bay for as long as they both can. Just a few days, right?

He puts the bottle down, squeezing his fists together with a silent resolve to will them to stop trembling.

Nausea gnaws at his empty stomach, waves of tremors wrack his exhausted body, and a clammy sweat drenches his skin under the layers of his clothes.

The physical torment, though excruciating, pales in comparison to the mental anguish that threatens to consume him, even faced with this dire situation of being stranded. Memories of past mistakes and the weight of unspoken regrets haunt his restless mind despite flicking between trying to remember his training and how the fuck he’s supposed to get off this damned island.

¡Vamos, piensa! Tú puedes hacerlo. No puede ser tan malo. (Come on, think! You can do it. It can’t be so bad.)

He squints up at the sky outside the cave and it’s still a little grey, but who knows when it’ll rain again?

“Fuck.” He grits.

On the rocky shoreline, a few metres from the cave mouth, Jude is sitting on some rocks with her jeans off and inspecting the laceration on the back of her right calf as best as she can.

Convincing herself it’s not infected, even though it’s obviously sore and hot to the touch, clearly signs of a brewing infection. It’s crusting over with that yellowish plasma sap and itches like a bitch with an inflamed red tinge around the edges, but at least it isn’t bleeding anymore.

Her clothes finally feel dry enough, but they smell of the damp, salty brine. She rinsed her jeans in the seawater to clear as much blood off as she could, and they were now spread out on the rocks drying in the faint sunlight trying to break through the grey clouds.

Despite the dark sky hovering above her, the swampy heat lingers harshly. Tropical weather holds that heaviness in the air; sweltering heat in the heights of summer, but typhoons and rainy seasons accompany it, along with possible snow and harsh winters, depending on what side of the equator they’re on.

Who knows what the weather could do out here and how quickly it could change?

Looking up at the sky, Jude is unsure what season exactly it is that she’s stuck in on this island, but thankful for the rain nonetheless - at least she can drink something, for now.

She’s mulling over in her mind the long term solution to water and how to collect more, just in case the rain does indeed stop.

It’s a terrifying thought and she keeps coming up with undesirable outcomes each time she pulls it apart, making her skin prick up and shiver.

What are the odds of surviving on a desert island in the middle of the ocean? Is it mere days? Months? Is it even possible to survive at all?

Her doom filled thoughts are interrupted by Frankie approaching in her peripherals; his desert boots crunching languidly over the rocks.

She grabs her jeans, slipping them on quickly before he can see; they still feel damp in patches around her butt.

“I’m sorry-” He mutters, fearing he’s interrupted her peeing or something as he notices her zipping up her flies, and he looks away quickly.

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Jude reassures.

He clocks the tear in the calf of her jeans flapping about as she reaches for her Converse, and the red faded patch from the blood that’s embedded deeply into the fabric. Staining it like a flower has bloomed; it’s a stain that won’t wash away fully.

“That looks bad.” Frankie observes.

“It’s healing, but I’m keeping an eye on it. How’s your neck feeling?” Jude asks, noticing the pink, angry blisters on his skin that seem worse this morning.

“Sore.” He winces, reaching out the water bottle to her.

She declines him, shaking her head. “It’s yours. It filled up twice in the night whilst you were asleep with the rain. I’ve had my fill.”

Frankie smiles appreciatively and drinks slowly from it again. “How long was I out?”

“A while; I don’t have a watch so I can’t be precise,” she shrugs. “Guess you needed it.”

He glances down at his wrist at his own watch, and it isn’t ticking anymore. It’s stopped at twenty-five past one. Is that morning or afternoon?

He ponders it for a few moments with a stumped look on his weathered face and zones out for a second. “Did you get much sleep?” He then asks her, dropping his wrist.

“A little,” Jude replies nonchalantly, although truth be told she’d hardly slept a wink.

Each time she closed her eyes harrowing images filled them, and when it was too quiet she could hear those engines roaring again as the plane fell out the sky.

“How do you feel?” She asks him, resting her chin on her shoulder and regarding him carefully as he hovers awkwardly, yet so tall and broad.

“I’ve had some sleep at least. My body feels like it’s been fuckin’ crushed.” Frankie looks out at the horizon; the clouds seem meaner out there, perhaps another storm is brewing, or maybe it’s rolling away from the island - it’s hard to tell with this heavy, hazy head. “Any sign of any boats or anything?”

Jude shakes her head glumly and sits back on the rocks resting on her palms. “Nothing.”

They both stay in a subdued silence for a while, until he perches on the rocks next to her, with a gap, and offers her the water bottle once more.

“I insist.” Frankie presses, and she eventually takes the bottle, has a couple of swigs and hands it back to him.

After some more time of them both scanning the horizon intently, looking for any flash of a rescue, he speaks again. “Why were you on the plane?” He drinks from the bottle with chapped pink lips.

Jude sighs heavily and folds her legs. “I needed a break from life.”

Frankie baulks with surprise and drinks again. “I hear that.”

“You too, huh?” She snorts.

He swallows, nodding, and offers her the bottle again and she takes it tentatively. “Work contract. But also the same; kind of a time out.”

“You said you were in the forces?” Jude asks curiously, as the breeze whips around her scraggly, salt-stinking hair.

He looks at her and smiles a little shyly under long eyelashes, the snap of his cap shielding them in the shadows of his face.

“Used to be. I work in aviation now. I was going out to Madagascar on contract to fix some helicopters. I used to fly them on duty.”

“Really? You’re a pilot?” Jude smiles.

“I was. Not anymore. Retired. But, I uh... I just don't fly right now.” He confirms as he watches her eyebrows rise in surprise.

“I see,” she shrugs. “Your business is yours, Frankie. You don’t have to explain.” She says, and he’s thankful that she doesn’t probe any further, leaving them to ruminate in a contemplative silence for a few minutes.

“What do you do?” Frankie asks her in return.

“I’m a photographer. Landscapes mostly.”

“That sounds cool.”

“Living the dream. Or at least, I was. I do all sorts of media and advertising for vacation companies and travel blogs, that kind of thing. Freelance mostly. It keeps me away from home a lot, and well...” she trails off “hence why I needed to get away, because in the end my love of travel caused more problems than it was probably worth.”

The bitter memories of Nate in bed with other women sting the back of her throat, and heart in turn, until she swallows through it. But bitterness always tastes vile.

Perhaps if I wasn’t away a lot he wouldn’t have cheated...

Frankie listens carefully with a small nod.

“I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all that.” She says, as he turns his gaze away from her and back out to scan the sea.

“No, it’s alright. I mean, what else are we gonna do?” He shrugs, trying to make light of their plight. “I get you about working away a lot. I do too. Sometimes for weeks.”

“What’s that like?” Jude enquires.

Frankie thinks for a moment. “Lonely.” He says as he turns back to her, and she notices his eyes are tired and dull, despite the brilliance of the hazel and gold colours that are spun inside his dark irises, glimmering in the dappling sunlight.

“Do you not have a partner or something to go home to? A forces sweetheart?”

“I did.” He takes the water bottle back from her when she offers it to him and drinks it again. It’s almost empty. “How about you, will there be anybody special missing you back home?”

Jude shakes your head and snorts. “Not anymore.”

“Ouch.”

“I mean, family sure, but like you I did have someone. Turned out he was a grade A jerk.” She tries not to sound so bitter about it, but it’s hard not to when that betrayal is still incredibly raw.

Frankie nods with a smirk. “Hence the getaway?”

“Hence the getaway,” Jude confirms. “There’s just something so comforting in running away from your problems, right?”

“Yeah. That’s going incredibly fuckin’ well for us, ain’t it?” Frankie remarks, and Jude can’t help but laugh a little.

Then he laughs; his shoulders heaving up and down, making the pain across his skin pull tighter still, and they both find they can’t stop for a while.

Just guffawing merrily over the dire circumstances, because it’s either that or cry hysterically and wade into the sea possessed by the crazed delirium of suicide until they sink to the bottom.

They both guess that the other has already considered that unsettling scenario, because after a few moments their laughter dies out and they both go back to a solemn, bubonic silence.

The only sound to accompany their physical bodies is the sound of the ocean waves rolling in and out, a gentle taciturn.

“We need to work out a way to collect more water for the long term,” Jude begins, eyeing the water bottle through her peripherals inside Frankie’s hand.

She notices a small, round tattoo inked between his thumb and forefinger. He has stubby thumbs on large hands, and the skin on his knuckles seems dry and flaky in places from the salt.

Working hands, she deduces. And notes a subtle tremble in his fingers as he squeezes the bottle whilst they talk.

Frankie nods. “You think we’ll be here that long?” He’s trying not to think of the bleak answer himself.

“I hope not. But I think we need to plan for it, just in case?”

“You’re probably right. We can collect sea water, boil it somehow.” He suggests spitting out ideas.

“You know how to distil water? They teach you that in the Army?” Jude questions.

“No...” He replies glumly and she instantly frowns. “Kinda. But we don’t have anything other than this bottle to collect water in. It would melt if we tried to boil it.”

“Yeah. That would suck.” Jude says, feeling mightily protective of the crinkled bottle inside his grip.

“I was in Delta Force.” Frankie mutters.

“What’s that, like the Marines?”

“Kinda. More specialist.”

“Huh.” Jude says, and glances back at the horizon seemingly unfazed. Either that or Frankie assumes she doesn’t give a shit.

“What about that place you said you found?” Frankie enquires.

Jude shrugs. “There wasn’t much there, but I suppose it’s worth another look, I guess.”

“What about a tarp? We can use plastic to collect water.” Frankie explains, searching back through his turbulent mind for the schematic details.

“There was some plastic in there, I saw a bag?”

“Perfect.”

“How does that work exactly?”

Frankie bites at the skin on his lip and she’s instantly reminded of Nate doing the same thing, and shudders.

“It’s called a solar still. We dig a hole in the ground. It condensates. We should build a fire too. Keep it burning. Someone could see the smoke.” Frankie elaborates.

“Good idea.” Jude agrees; her levels of optimism climbing slightly, but even they’re suffering from chronic exhaustion too.

“We have shelter in the cave, for now. We need to find food. There might be fish in the water."

"Have you ever fished before?” She asks.

“Most weekends with Will before...”

Frankie trails off struggling to remember the last time he went fishing with Will. Those memories seem so far away now.

Far away in a simpler time where fighting for your life was a reality he’d never encounter. Just sitting in Will’s father’s boat enjoying the peaceful silence and the lush surroundings of the lake. Catching tiddlers and tossing them back and occasionally reeling in some pike. Yeah, they were good times. Before Frankie shit all over them.

He looks at Jude studying him curiously when he doesn’t answer. “Yeah. I can fish.”

“Perhaps you can teach me, pass the time a little?” She suggests. “Stop us from going insane and eating each other.”

“Sure,” he chuckles nervously.

The clouds have dispersed and the pair of them stand sweating and out of breath on the same ridge Jude had climbed when she’d first explored the island.

From up here, the whole of the island is in perfect view, and it’s a good lookout point as they both plan their route of exploration to gather food, water and anything else they can scavenge that will prolong their mutual survival in this hellhole until they’re rescued.

Frankie’s puffing heavily and scanning with his hand, shielding his eyes despite his cap visor, taking in the view of the dark wooded area.

“Those aren’t palms.” He says, scrutinising the tree species. “Shit.”

“What does shit mean?” Jude questioms warily.

He sighs, taking off his cap, shaking out and sweeping back chocolate curls, before placing it back on his head.

“It means it could get cold here. Really cold. We were on our way to Madagascar, which is in the southern hemisphere tropics.”

“Yeah, but it’s warm in the tropics, right?”

“Not always. Look at the vegetation, it's dense, but sparse. The island gets rain. Could also get snow.”

“Great.” Jude sighs.

From up here the trees seem thick, and he’s convinced there has to be some form of wildlife habiting on the island, or some edible vegetation at least.

“Where there’s vegetation, there’s gotta be animal life,” Frankie explains to Jude. There isn’t any sign of birds however, he notes.

“I hope you’re right about that.” Jude can feel her stomach rumbling, those gas bubbles fluttering under the muscles and sinew, and she hopes he can’t hear it.

“The water seems shallower and clearer over there, maybe an ideal place to fish?” He points a long, thick index finger to the north-west of the island on the other side of the wooded area. There are several rocks in the shallows, indicating rock pools.

“That’s where I washed up,” Jude says, remembering the welcoming sight of the sandy beach there and then remembering to her horror that the island was completely deserted.

Frankie drops his hand and looks down at her. “How long were you out there?”

“Same as you, I guess. The minute the plane sank, it felt like days I was on the water, but I think it was only one. I was here for another day alone before I saw you, I think.”

Frankie nods. “I passed out on the shore and I think I was out for the whole day.”

She squints in the sun looking up at him, he’s so tall. He looks back down at her through tired, yet kind eyes and messy curled hair that spills behind his ears under the cap, and smiles sympathetically.

Evidently the pair of them had some fight; they’d made it this far and Jude welcomes that they both have that in common at least.

“Perhaps we should split up? You look for tarp or anything to collect water. I’ll look for something to fish with and whatever else I can find that we can eat.” Frankie suggests after a while of more scanning across the island below them.

He steps forward and the drop from the ridge seems steep from up here. Bushes and boulders litter the bottom in clumsy zigzags.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jude agrees.

“We can cover more ground. But don’t over exert yourself. It’s hot and we need more water from the rain.” Frankie looks up above at the sky and not a cloud is in sight, the sun melting away any cloud cover that lingered from the morning. “Whenever that’ll be...”

“Meet back at the cave?” Jude suggests.

Frankie nods at her as they both begin the descent down the ridge before going opposite ways.

Jude gathers the rusted tins from the former shack, and the plastic bag that is in there will do as some kind of tarp.

Rummaging through the fallen planks, picking them up and moving them out the way, she makes a mental note to tell Frankie about them, because perhaps he can find use for the wood.

He’s a pilot, not a damn carpenter... She thinks, but then again, who knows what hidden talents he could have?

Who knows what anyone is capable of thrust into disaster and given desperate circumstances, right?

He could well be the one to get her through this whole awful ordeal, maybe even save her life. Or he could end up being a complete weirdo with a deadly fascination for wearing her skin and making her not want to spend a single moment more than necessary on this damned island with him.

Who is he really? He’s a complete stranger.

Nah. She didn’t get any cannibalistic creep vibes from him. But Frankie is still a mystery; a man of seemingly few words and not revealing too much about himself.

She’d established in her brief conversation on the rocks that morning that he was going on a work vacation because he needed a break from life. Seems genuine and plausible enough; she had that in common with him.

Jude ponders all this and more whilst she fingers through the dirt and broken body of the shack, careful not to get splinters from the wood.

There’s more plastic further under the leafy brush, and she pulls at it before falling backwards when it gets stuck on something and won’t give.

Hundreds of hairy spiders dash out, skittering across its surface and she cries out, scrambling up on her feet and brushing herself down quickly; panic stricken that spiders are crawling over her skin, face and in her hair.

“Eww no!” She squeals out and stamps her feet around in a weird, freaked out dance desperate to crush any that will dare venture towards her.

Once composed, she reaches for the plastic again; shaking it out and it’s all discoloured and opaque with filth. She shudders as she flick off a renegade spider and rolls the plastic up, shoving it in the bag.

Something that shines at her catches her eye, and reaching down, she sees a switchblade amongst the leaves.

“Well, shit.”

She flicks it open and although the blade looks a little dull and rusted on the tip, it’s still pointed enough at the end that it will most definitely be useful.

But she thinks about it for a moment, a creeping sense of unease prickling over her skin; this is proof enough that at some point, someone else had definitely been on this God forsaken island.

The only question is, what happened to them?

Frankie collects a few long and sturdy sticks as he walks the perimeter of the sandy beach outside of the wooded area along the shoreline of the island.

He figures he can probably find something to sharpen the ends to spear fish if there isn’t anything here that he can find for a makeshift fishing line.

His concentration is occasionally pulled towards the ocean where he’ll see something glimmer out the corner of his eye thinking it’s a boat, but then realising, disappointingly, it’s just the sun sparkling on the water like diamonds, taunting him.

He kicks at a few stones and pebbles along the grassy knolls as he traipses over them and notices how scuffed and dull his boots are.

An intense rush is felt, coursing through the veins in his arms and up into his shoulders.

He grits his teeth and stops for a second, breathing in and out slowly. He licks around the inside of his gums that are tight and dry and tries not to think about the desire prickling at the back of his brain for a line to sniff up.

“Ya no lo necesitas.” (You don’t need it anymore.) He tells himself in short, ragged whispers.

To distract himself, he contemplates the long term outcome for them both on the island, as his crazy mind does on autopilot when faced with a dire situation.

Although that path of thinking probably isn’t wise to venture down either. Historically, it's not really served him well.

He feels some relief that he’s found Jude; at least the loneliness won’t overcome him and drive him insane.

Isn’t that what happened to that guy on Castaway?

Jude appears friendly enough; full of determined grit it seems, especially if she made it overnight floating in the barren and dangerous ocean like he had.

Perhaps she’s a strong swimmer and the fact she’d allowed him to drink the water suggested she was kind and thought of others first. But what does he really know about her?

What does she know about him, really?

He tells himself that Jude probably wouldn’t look favourably upon him if she knew what he had done. He certainly doesn’t.

But something inside convinces Frankie that he’ll be able to count on her if shit hits the fan. More so than it already has.

Although he hopes it won’t - he hopes this fucking nightmare will all be over soon and he can go home and just forget about this disaster without any long term effects on his already fragile mental health.

Or, making it worse than it already is, at least.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, Frank.

He can hear Eddie’s voice, even all the way out here. He thinks about the amount of missed calls he probably has from him on his iPhone at the bottom of the ocean.

He wonders if anyone will be missing him yet, if anyone has realised he’s not returning their calls or messages. Did Benny ever text him back?

He wonders if they’ll assume he's in the gutter again, strung out on the white stuff and barely clinging on through the manic highs.

He hopes that someone will question his disappearance. Although it’s getting harder to believe that these days. He's practically pushed everyone away.

Dustin. He’ll know I never landed. They’ll call in, reporting that I never showed up for the job.

Yeah, his employer will be his saviour. Make a few calls and soon a rescue team will be here looking for them.

Frankie looks about the ground for anything that can be of use, but it’s just littered with stones and more grass.

He looks up ahead of him and then stops dead in his tracks, dropping the sticks he’s collected in a heap at his feet.

"Fuck!"

Without hesitating, he makes a hasty run towards it.

Jude’s rinsing the tin cans down at the shore by the cave; crouched down with her jeans rolled up and bare footed, discarding her Chucks that seem like they’ll never dry out again.

She’s cleaning out the cans that aren’t rusted over completely that is. There are four that they can use for either water or food, and the remaining cans that are too rusty to risk eating or drinking from, she separates and tries to think of what other use they could have.

Perhaps Frankie will know.

She stands up when she can hear Frankie yelling, his voice ebbing in on the breeze, and turns to see him pulling along two small suitcases and a backpack slung over his back.

“Where did they come from?!” Jude exclaims, running up to him and taking a case from his hands. It’s a Samsonite brand with a clamshell outer casing and feels heavy.

“A part of the fuselage has washed up,” he puffs “it’s fuckin’ stuck in the sand on the other side of the bay."

"What?!" Jude gasps, hearing the words, but they have trouble going in.

"There might be more stuff in there. Come on!”

Jude follows after him as they make a brisk run through the trees and out the other side, following the walk along the shoreline he’d made earlier, before Frankie had looked up and spotted the wreckage of the plane embedded into the sand bank.

He couldn’t believe his eyes and suspected he was probably seeing things at first; a teasing mirage perhaps? His brain playing tricks on him - it wouldn’t be the first time.

But as he’d run closer to it, it dawned on him that it was really there.

They approach it, slowing down their pace and sweating profusely already in the scorching heat, and Jude’s overwhelmed by the sight of it.

“How the fuck did we not see this from the ridge?” She questions, befuddled, wiping at her forehead with the back of her hand.

She approaches it circumspectly as Frankie touches the sides of it.

“The trees cover this whole side of the bay,” Frankie says, glancing behind him and he can’t see the ridge either from this side. “It could’ve been here since…”

He trails off as they both realise that it could have been here from the very moment they'd both washed up on the island. Maybe even before.

“Be careful,” Jude warns as she watches him step forward with a long, thick leg, and hoist himself up into the cabin.

He reaches down and holds his hand out for her, pulling her up to meet him.

She clasps a hold of a seat that’s on a steep incline for support as he climbs further in and upwards into the eerie cabin shell, crawling on his arms and legs like a sinister arachnid.

The plane fuselage is empty of any living soul, and stinks of the damp; a briny waft of salt that’s just as isolating as it is pungent.

Jude notes the remaining seats that are intact on the plane are void of any bodies, and Frankie catches her worrisome gaze.

“Do you think anyone survived this, apart from us?” She asks, almost whispering.

He shakes his head bleakly, noting that the seatbelts are unbuckled. Visions of the people who were originally sitting in them, struggling to get out as they drown, make him shiver.

Essentially they’re both walking through a graveyard. One of the seats is faded with blood and there’s a lot of it dried into the fabric.

Frankie steadies himself against the slant and reaches up, pushing open the overhead and braces himself; covering his head with his arm for anything that might topple out.

Another case barrages out and he grabs a hold of it and slides it down to Jude. She picks it up and tosses it out on the sand. He repeats the process with some purses that he finds.

Frankie carries on further up towards the back of the fuselage and yells out for her when he disappears around the remainder of what appears to be the galley.

Jude scrambles forwards, crawling, and slipping somewhat up the slope, meeting him where he’s crouched down in front of a silver trolley, and inside he’s leafing through stacks of food.

Bags of sweets, chocolates, small bottles of liquor and bread rolls, all intact and water free due to the tight vacuum seal on the trolley.

“Holy fuck!” Jude gasps as Frankie tosses her a bread roll.

She scrambles with the package and bites into it. It tastes a little stale but is still damn good.

He pulls out two cans of soda and they chink them together; the bubbles fizzing over the rim of the can and over his hand.

“Salud!” He says, grinning.

Jude toasts to him and smiles approvingly.

“This is a fuckin’ treasure trove!” Frankie marvels, belching through a gassy burp after drinking his soda too quickly. “Sorry,” he laughs through pale pink lips that feel moist again.

Jude giggles and belches back, making the skin around his eyes crease as his smile drags wider across his face, laughing.

“I’ll see your burp and raise you a belch.” Jude howls in embarrassment.

Frankie rummages around further in the trolley and there are several bottles of water and more tasty goodies to be found.

“We should bag this all up and take this with us. I don’t think I can get the trolley out.” Frankie announces, standing up and reaching for the overheads.

Jude glances at the trolley and it’s on a diagonal tilt, wedged tightly between the galley walls.

They both set about opening more metal doors in the galley and find more food; several vacuum packed meals that seem uncooked and protected from the water by their plastic wrap.

“Jackpot!” Jude coos and Frankie turns as she pulls them out.

He reaches out a large palm and high fives her enthusiastically, a giant paw slapping against her own.

“Nice one, hermosa.”

Frankie and Jude make three round trips back and forth to the fuselage in total and by the end of it, they count a mixture of three carry-ons, one backpack and a couple of purses.

“I can’t believe this; this is like some kind of miracle.” Jude says, staring at the wonderful sight, completely floored and not really knowing where to start with it all.

They’d both stripped the fuselage clean of everything they could physically take during the remainder of the day, and stood there watching the outer shell, part of their doomed flight resting contentedly on the sand as the sun began its descent in the sky.

“Maybe we can take it apart somehow... Take the seats out, use it to build some shelter or something?” Jude suggested

Frankie contemplated it, eyeing it carefully and examining the areas where he felt he would be able to muster the strength to rip things out with his bare hands.

Without tools it would be a near impossible task though, and he hissed through his teeth at the thought of his tools slung in his Pickup back home.

"I don't know. The angle it's on isn't practical. It's too heavy for us to move. The cave is better for shelter. Warmer too."

“Maybe someone will see it from the sky if they fly overhead?” Jude had said, and Frankie seemed hopeful; it’ll be hard to miss it on a search and rescue mission.

“We can take the seat cushions out; make some sort of bedding to sleep on. It’ll be better than the ground in the cave.” Jude reached under the seats and pulled out all the lifejackets she could find too. “These might be useful?”

Frankie nodded as he had watched her gather them under her arms and tossed them out of the fuselage onto the sand with the ever growing pile of everything they could take from it.

Frankie reaches into the bag of food and pulls out two water bottles and tosses one at her.

She watches as he drinks from his own greedily and gasps out after swallowing; the bottle crumpling in his hand as he sucks the air out of it too.

“Let’s have a look at the cases.” Frankie suggests as Jude stares at it all taking it in.

She bends down and starts unzipping them eagerly. They both find an abundance of travel-size toiletries and clothing in different styles and sizes.

She pulls out some garish, floral shirts and holds them up for him, to which he smirks.

“These might fit you,” Jude replies and he laughs with mirth at them.

Frankie opens a case that seems stuffed with more clothes and a toiletry bag; there are some razors in there and some shower gel.

Frankie pulls out the razors and holds them up astonished.

“How the fuck did they get them in their hand luggage?” Jude questions, utterly perplexed.

“That’s the fuckin’ TSA for you.” Frankie rolls his eyes. “We can use ‘em.”

Jude then remembers the switchblade she’d found and fishes it out of her back pocket and tosses it at him. He catches it one-handed and examines it.

“Figured you could use it for fishing or something,” she shrugs.

“So there was someone here, before us?”

Jude nods. “I think so, yeah.”

“What happened to ‘em?” He asks.

“Perhaps they were rescued?”

Frankie nods, a fleeting sense of hope skimming across his frontal lobe. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t want to think of the other outcome.

He tosses the razors back in the case and finds some sun lotion. He spots a small tube of moisturiser and wastes no time in squeezing some into his palm and rubbing it gently into his scorched neck.

He winces and hisses through his teeth as the moisturiser stings his skin instead of soothing it. “Fuck.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I was hoping that would soothe it.”

Jude finds the tube and discovers it’s actually antiseptic cream.

“It’ll sting, but it’ll help for sure.” She says, examining his neck. It’s welted and the blisters look angry and swollen with yellow fluid. It’s too tempting to poke the little skin bubbles.

“Here, let me help?” She offers, as he nods and turns his head so she can apply the cream all over the burns. He hisses as she carefully dabs it on.

“Sorry,” she murmurs.

“It’s okay.” His eyes flick towards hers as she gently runs the cream over the welts.

She glances back up at his deep chocolate eyes, brooding and set in skin with lines around the socket.

“Where are you from?” Jude queries.

“El Paso.” Frankie says. “I moved out to the west coast though. Florida.”

“You speak Spanish.”

“My family is originally from Colombia. I was born in the US.”

She nods, smiling as she spreads the cream further over the burns.

“What about you?”

“The Big Apple. City girl.”

“Nice.” He says.

“It is in the summer. The winter, not so much. Better?”

He nods. “Thanks.”

Frankie touches his skin gently a few times with his fingertips after she steps away.

“You should put some on your leg too,” he encourages.

“I’ll do it later. Now we have some soap we can freshen up in the water. Take turns to clean up. God, I stink.”

“I don’t think you smell too bad. Me on the other hand…”

“Yeah, you smell pretty ripe.” Jude giggles.

Smirking, he comes across a make-up bag and tosses it to her. When she catches it, she finds a cosmetics mirror in there amongst some lipstick and eye shadows that have crumbled into a metallic sludge from being waterlogged.

There’s a pair of tweezers too.

She glances at her face in the mirror briefly and can see the large, purple bruising above her temple and examines it carefully, wincing when she touches it.

Frankie finds another baseball cap and offers it to her and she places it on her head; it’s still damp and cools her for a bit.

He finds a notebook with a pen. The pages of the notebook are crispy from being wet and he flicks through them to see the notebook is blank.

“Santa mierda!” (Holy shit!) Frankie exclaims suddenly, and pulls out a mobile phone and holds it up at her.

It’s an iPhone model and the screen is cracked.

“Fuck! Does it work?!” Jude rushes over to him.

They both stare at the screen, waiting for it to power up with severe anticipation, but it doesn’t.

Frankie glances down at Jude with a frown as she peers at it, seeming tiny inside his giant palm; willing it to come alive.

Please, come on!

He fiddles with the case, taking the battery out and it’s wet inside the phone’s internal chipboard.

“We could dry it out in the sun and then maybe it’ll work?” Jude asks him, hope swills around her eyes at him.

He nods with a thin smile. “Worth a shot, although I doubt we’ll get any signal out here.”

Frankie lays the phone in the sand next to the notebook and wipes the battery down with the hem of his salmon pink shirt.

Jude nods glumly. Probably best not to get her hopes up.

They sort through the cases, filling one up with the toiletries and separating the clothes between the remaining two.

“We should ration as much of this stuff as we can; make it last. Who knows how long we’ll be here, right?” Jude suggests to Frankie as she finally stands up, sweating and aching from being bent over in the sand sorting and organising for the last few hours of fading sunlight.

“Yeah, I think we have a few months’ worth of stuff here if we ration carefully. Although let’s hope we’re not here that fuckin' long. They’ll be coming for us real soon.”

Jude nods. “Yeah. We won’t be here long. They’ll be looking for us right now.” She agrees aloud and Frankies nods for a little longer, like one of those nodding dogs on a car dashboard.

He hands the sun lotion to her with a sympathetic crooked smile that is soft.

“Here. You’ve been exposed to the sun all day.”

“Thanks.” Jude says, unscrewing the cap and slathering it on the skin of her arms that feel tight.

Dusk approaches, and they both retreat into the cave mouth with the cases and the food in tow, clearing the beach in case it rains again and placing the empty water bottles into the sand to collect any rain water.

Frankie looks at the phone and battery lying on the ground near him. “I’ll try it again in the morning.” He yawns.

“Fingers crossed it works.” Jude says.

She reaches into the case with the food and pulls out a bag of Peanut M&M’s, which are a little squishy due to the heat, but still taste good nonetheless.

She watches as his hand barely fits inside the packet as he scoops out a handful of the coloured chocolates.

Jude murmurs out in sweet relief at the feel and taste of the chocolate melting on her tongue.

Frankie smiles in a pleasant response too, and as the fading light dies away, encasing them both in the blinding dark; his satisfied smile is the last thing Jude remembers before falling asleep.

To be continued...

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know.

Tagging everyone who asked to be tagged/commented on/re-blogged my initial teaser & prologue:

@suzdin @missladym1981 @magpiepills @millennial-teenybopper @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @msjarvis @tightjeansjaviupdates @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @casa-boiardi @sin-djarin @rhoorl @disassociation-daydreams @quinnnfabrgay @chronically-ghosted @fuckyeahdindjarin @chiriwritesstuff @copperhalfcent @bluestar22x @5oh5 @gobaaby-blog-blog @myloveistoolittle @pastawench @maggiemayhemnj @secretelephanttattoo @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @thethirstwivesclub @seratuyo @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @toomanytookas @survivingandenduring @lizzie-cakes @sawymredfox @iloveenya @elegantduckturtle @covetyou @undercoverpena @connectioneverywhere @trulybetty @nerdieforpedro @thisneozonerecs @fckyeapedrothots99 @goodwithcheese @anavatazes @doughmonkey @lilmizmoz @76bookworm76

#pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst #adrift with you series #jett's writing #triple frontier fic

171 notes · View notes

sungbeam · 2 years

Text

𝘁𝘅𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺

ot5 x gn!reader

0.9k words, assorted headcanons, fluff!

a/n: this is NOT proofread, i'm sorry 💀

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗬𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗝𝗨𝗡:

would come home late from a practice and it would be like, three in the morning, so of course, he wouldn't expect you to have waited for him that long

but he comes into the apartment exhausted, just absolutely ready to crash and curl up with you, and he finds you fast asleep on the couch with the TV on, and Netflix displayed (it has the abysmal "are you still watching?" question on the screen)

he would probably coo with his pretty, pouty lips at your form curled in on yourself as if you had just been seated on the couch, biding your time until he came home

jjun feels a little bad for making you stay up to wait for him, but he dumps his things on the ground and scoops you into his arms to bridal carry you into your room

he then tucks you into the covers with a little kiss on your forehead, before hitting the showers then finally slipping into bed next to you

(others below the cut!)

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗕𝗜𝗡:

bin's just come out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a little towel and a toothbrush hanging from his mouth: "baby, do you—" his voice immediately dies in his throat when he realizes that you've fallen asleep already

he finds the way that you've burrowed yourself into the blankets absolutely adorable, and when he walks closer, he realizes that one of your hands has unconsciously reached toward his side of the bed

basically speedruns his skincare routine after that in order to be able to cuddle with you in bed a lot faster (usually, both of you do your nightly routines together and side by side, but you'd been feeling a little tired after dinner and decided to cut movie time a little short)

once he's finally done, he comes back into the bedroom to see that you're still fast asleep, but you've accidentally kicked the blanket off in your sleep

so he comes over and tucks you in again, but quickly slips into the blankets with you; he does, however, press a little kiss to your nose when he pulls you over toward the middle of the bed and falls asleep with you in his arms

𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗜 𝗕𝗘𝗢𝗠𝗚𝗬𝗨:

to be honest, he'd probably be a little offended you fell asleep before him since he didn't come home that late, but it's all pettiness on his end and he's not really that mad, especially when you look so goddamn cute

you'd probably be lying down on the couch with a blanket thrown over you, face smooshed into the pillow and a movie just finishing up on screen

gyu would quietly turn the TV off, then pretty much scooch you further back so he could squeeze himself onto the couch with you

all he wants to do is lay down with you, so he will do as little amount of work as possible :D so he somehow manages to get himself onto the couch without falling off, tucking the blanket up to your chests, and hugging you closely

you wake up with your face stuffed into his chest and his soft snores right above your head, but it's very warm and very comfortable

𝗞𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗔𝗘𝗛𝗬𝗨𝗡:

comes home after a brief night outing with the boys, but he decided to come back early because he was feeling a bit tired (and he really would rather catch you before you fell asleep to hang out with you)

but instead, he finds you seated in bed with a book propped open in your lap and your head tilted at an awkward angle from falling asleep

tyunnie first takes care of you by turning the lamp off and bookmarking your book and setting it on the nightstand; then he gently adjusts your body so you'd be tucked under the covers in a more comfortable position

at one point, he fears almost waking you up, but you only hum under your breath and shift a little, but you remain in your dreamscape; he thinks it's really cute—the way your nose twitches at the familiar scent of his cologne and when he brushes the hair from your face

it's then that he goes and gets himself ready for bed, and joins you under the covers

𝗛𝗨𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗞𝗔𝗜:

to be honest, kai probably falls asleep sooner than you do most of the time (as you can tell by whenever both of you are on call and he falls asleep, so you usually screenshot him clutching one of his molangs before disconnecting the call)

but this time, you've come over for a little sleepover at his place, and kai actually lets you pick one of his prized plushies to sleep with tonight, as long as you remember that you're supposed to cuddle him, too

so the two of you are in bed by this point, and you're snuggled up on his chest while he scrolls through his social media platforms, occasionally laughing softly and showing you the funny or cute videos he comes across

he doesn't even realize that you've fallen asleep when he tries to show you a video about cats falling asleep in strange places and you don't answer, but instead, he finds that you're fast asleep

kai's absolutely enamored by how peaceful you look while asleep, especially hugging one of his molangs and ,,, perhaps he takes a cute photo of you sleeping before he turns his phone off and wraps his arms around you to fall asleep himself

a/n: def rushed writing this but i hope it's still cute 💀 remember to rb, comment, etc if u liked it ^_^

txt m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @staysstrays @y3jiishot @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @yedammi @justanotherkpopstanlol @w3bqrl @super-btstrash-posts @hibernatinghamster @otchae @bigballsz @rnjfy @shakalakaboomboo @ashxxkook

#txt x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #kang taehyun x reader #hueningkai x reader #yeonjun x reader #soobin x reader #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #txt headcanons #txt drabbles #txt imagines #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #soobin fluff #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #hueningkai fluff

3K notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 5 months

Text

SKELETONS AND SCARES

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it’s fred’s mission to scare his girlfriend ever since she told him it was impossible to.

warnings: pranks and shenanigans, kisses, fluff, hitting? insinuations (sexy 👀)

a/n: it’s christmas and i’m writing halloween stuff idk why

the library was quiet as you and fred studied together. well you studied and he more so watched. ever since halloween approached he’d been restless. and the students were on high alert, especially with the weasley twins on the prowl. yesterday you ran into at least four people who’d been the subject of their pranks.

“oh! and then colin accidentally walked in on the prank for ron. wasn’t any less hilarious to be honest.” fred laughed as you smiled, “all these students are easily scared fred. choose someone more difficult or more amusing. i’m sure draco deserves a visit.” you joked as fred thought, “like who?” you pointed at yourself. “you? you want me to scare you? you’re easy.” you scoffed at his words, “and why is that? can you recall any time you’ve managed to prank me?”

fred’s mouth open and closed. you were really right, he hadn’t even scared you once. but he’d do it now. “okay, what do i get if i do?” you wondered for a second, “me. wherever you’d like, whenever.” fred liked that idea as he reached his hand out to shake before quickly retracting it, “what do you get if i fail?” you grinned, “you.”

he was relentless in his efforts. the first day after your agreement had you in the library again, this time with hermione in your spare time. you’d both wanted to read your favourite books. and as you pulled out yours a spider jumped out and onto your hand. rather than panicking you pulled out your wand “pertrificus totalus.” you picked it up and placed it outside the room.

fred was nearby and groaned at your calm demeanour whilst george leaned against the wall to take a peak. “well it seems your ever so amazing plan has already failed. what’ve you got up your sleeve?”

two in one day was something you wouldn’t expect from him, right?

wrong.

but a snake in a suitcase was extremely dull. you had no clue why fred’s pranks were so bad when it came to you but for others they were a howl. fail after fail and every day you woke up with the expectation of a success perhaps. even when you hung out with him he was planning his next prank. “if you’re wondering what miserable plan you’re going to use next i beg you to not. having george pop out of a closet with a mask i mean come on.”

fred jokingly hit your arm, “why are your pranks so bad when it comes to me?” fred shrugged his shoulders. “maybe i just don’t want to hurt you.” it came off as a joke but you could feel the sincerity in his earnest words.

“well aren’t you a sweetheart.” you replied as you kissed his cheek.

you’d been biding your time for him.

fred made his way into the room and you took it as your chance and jumped at him, which caused the two of you to tumble down onto the couch.

“how long had you been waiting there?” he yelped as you sat up, “as long as i had to for this, priceless! you’ve been annoying me for the past few days with very pathetic attempts when the simplest prank was amazing and effective.” you preened as he laughed.

“you’re the girlfriend of hogwarts’ best prankster. there’s no way i’ll be resting until i succeed.” fred crossed his arms with his chin in the air as you began to howl in laughter. “well your times up and you failed, i bet george would’ve scared me by now.” fred’s mouth turned into an ‘o’ before his hands crept to your stomach, “you take it back, take it back right now y/n weasley.” he joked as you grinned, “weasley? i like the sound of that. when’s george available?” fred was relentless as he tickled you, your hands beating on his body at the torture. “i was kidding! please!” you cried out as he tutted.

“no mercy for traitors y/n!”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #harry potter x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader

266 notes · View notes

iateyourparents · 6 months

Text

fOoL fOr YoU | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x singer!fem!reader

summary: fate has its own ways to connect people who are destined to each other, even after breaking them apart at some point in life.

warnings: kinda short, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english is not my first language)

an: songs used here are fOoL fOr YoU by ZAYN, My stupid heart by Walk off the Earth. Album used in here - Lover by Taylor Swift.

pictures are from pinterest:)

“Come on guys, let me hear you! I know you like this one!” you said to microphone before continuing the song “Cause I’m a fool for you and the things, the things you do…”

You heard crowd clearly and loudly singing with you your debutant song and you couldn’t feel more proud.

Even though since realese of this song you made two whole albums it still was most of your fans’ favorite song, and to be honest, it was yours too.

It was song about your teenage love, how you felt about that one boy that you aren’t even in touch anymore. You wrote fOoL fOr YoU while you still were a lovesick teenager but before you were able to present it to your former muse from these times, you were broken up.

Then, years later you met that amazing man, Charles, who took you under his wings becoming your manager and helped you with realesing your debutant single - fOoL fOr YoU.

And that’s how you became pretty famous and now, here you were playing all around the world for your “we’ll never be the same again” world tour, promoting your newest album.

“Alright, that was so good! Thank you!” you took a break to take a sip of water and then you were back in front of the chanting crowd “Okay, so I wrote this one about my ex who was absolutely awful experience but also taught me a lot.”

You could hear loud screams from a crowd which already knew what song you were about to sing so you just laughed and started singing, crowd following also started shouting lyrics.

“My stupid heart don’t know, I’ve tried to let you go so many times before…”

After few more songs you bided your goodbye to the crowd promising you will be back someday and you got off the stage and met Charles on backstage.

„How was it?” you asked with smile, sipping water.

„That was great!” you could say he was proud „And you were worried you wouldn’t be able to play on arenas.”

„That’s a big step!” you defended yourself with smile „I can’t wait to take a shower, I stink.” you grimaced.

„I won’t disagree.” he laughed and hugged you „Go relax a little before we have to go to tourbus.”

„You too Charlie, I know that you are secretly almost ripping off your hair.”

Now you were supposed to head to Los Angeles where you would play two concerts and then you would have a month long break before starting last part of the tour - Europe.

|||

You were currently sitting at the vanity in your changing room. Your make up artist, Sarah, was doing your make up for your last performance before a break when Charles came into the room.

„Hi” he started.

„Hi Charlie, what’s up?” you could tell he had some offer for you.

„What do you say, you, me and your band go to some club after you come off the stage to celebrate successful tour?”

You looked at him in the mirror and smirked at him.

„Sounds great to me.”

|||

You and your crew sat in some club. You weren’t drunk but it felt good to feel more easy with alcohol in your system after stressful couple of weeks.

„My forever favorite moment is when this one fan threw his boxers on scene and they landed perfectly in front of y/n. Her face was priceless.” Mark, the drummer, laughed. You loved talking about memories from the tour but that memory actually was traumatizing since it was the first time ever when something like this happened.

„I felt attacked.” you joked and took a last sip of your sweet drink „I’ll go order next one. Somebody wants something?”

You heard chorus of no’s and assurances that they have almost full glasses so you just walked towards the counter and waited for a bartender to end taking someone else’s order.

„Your concert was awesome.” you heard next to you. When you turned to the side you saw someone you thought you would never see again in person.

Infamous ghost hunter, your ex and an old muse of yours.

Cole Brock.

Or rather, Colby.

„Thank you” you smiled „Fancy seeing you here.”

„I live in LA.” he explained „I liked this one song, what was it? Fool for you?”

You smirked and shook your head „Yeah, I like it too.”

„So, was I good muse?” he winked and you laughed. Of course he would know it was about him. You’re pretty sure that when you were together you were sometimes telling him parts of this song.

„Excellent, thank you.”

„I’m always happy to help, so if you will need some new music, here’s my number.” he handed you a piece of paper with some numbers.

„I’ll make sure to call if i’ll need anything.” you winked at him and he laughed.

„I hope so.” he looked behind his back where a blonde boy, Sam, called him „I have to go but i’ll be waiting for your call.”

|||

If some days later you actually called Colby, nobody have to know. And if that meeting ended with him tangled in your sheets, also nobody have to know. And if this was more than one time occurrence then also nobody have to know.

And if your next album called ’Lover’ was about him and everyone knew it was about him, then it’s okay.

And if you both tattooed ’fOoL fOr YoU’ on your hips on the day of your wedding, then it’s great even if everybody knows.

You two really were like lovesick fools.

#colby brock x reader #colby #colby brock #sam and colby #snc #music #katrina stuart #sam golbach

199 notes · View notes

milfjessepinkman · 5 months

Text

i hate walter as much as the next guy. but man he is such an interesting character. like he really isnt that machiavellian, i feel like thats mostly the fanbase talking. he is pretty much only really really good at cooking meth. gus is the machiavellian one, the one who is willing to put in his dues, to wait, to bide his time, to manipulate. walts solution to LITERALLY EVERYTHING is to either kill it or blow it up. (or both). Like every time he "makes a move" it is just him ordering other people to kill people or him blowing stuff up. he sucks at manipulating, he couldnt do it w. skyler she saw through his bullshit sooo early in the series, bc he is SO BAD at lying, and when she does work with him its not because she suddenly loves him again or whatever, its more pragmatic for her. he failed so hard at manipulating mike/gus/etc. the only person he actually successfully manipulated was his 24 year old junkie former student. not exactly the most difficult catch. also because he isn't machiavellian hes way more fun to watch -- he doesnt just do things because they're the best move, like gus. gus would more more boring a protagonist bc his moves are predictable, always optimal. but walts moves are also driven by his family and keeping up his lie and stuff. and sometimes he just does shit because he is a human being who cares about things. like when he ran over the dealers who were gonna kill jesse with his car. that move did not benefit him at all, like why did he do it?? I mean i know why he did it, hes obsessed w jesse and expresses "love" (devotion? loyalty?) through violence, but i think theres a lot of reddit bros who would be genuinely at a loss to explain his motivations in that scene. professionally walts a failure. for most of the series in the criminal underground he is also a failure. he can only get off on killing people and chemistry. he lives in the suburbs. his wife is 12 years younger than him. hes psychosexually obsessed w his former high school student. he drives a 2004 Pontiac Aztek. if he didnt get lung cancer he probably would just continue to be a shitty person in secret until his death. hes having a baby. albuquerque new mexico is a fantasy world and he is the chosen one. he gave a speech about how there were so many worse plane crashes to a building of people mourning a plane crash. hes a retail worker. the first thing he does as a criminal is come up with a cool fake name to sell drugs with. his solution to being missing is to get naked in a grocery store and it works for, like, a significant amount of time. he kills the big boss by blowing half his face off. when his making-meth assistant acts too cheerful he gets him fired and brings back the junkie former high school student instead. crazy guy!!

#brba #breaking bad #walter white

162 notes · View notes

hyuckkaiji · 7 months

Text

loyal she began, so she remains - sebastian x f!reader

summary; he waited too long to hold you in his arms again. he waited too long to give up now. you are his, and he will have you. pt.3

word count; 4.3k

warnings; 18+, explicit content, some physical violence, porn with a plot, mentions of cheating/infidelity

note; and they lived happily ever after. One for the Seb girlies hehehe. last last part to this little unofficial series. pt.1, pt.2, pt.3 Ominis

Sebastian twirled his wand with deft fingers, staring at the cold fireplace, listening, waiting.

It had been almost three months since he saw you. One would think three months would feel like nothing in comparison to eight years, but they would be wrong.

He longed for you, he dreamt of you, bided his time until he could hold you in his arms again. And the day came, you were there, his beautiful girl, you were in his arms after all that time. But when he awoke, you were gone, and that hurt him more than anything another wizard could ever do to him.

These months have been the worst of his life. To know where you are and not be able to claim you, it was tortuous. He doesn't blame you, he doesn't know how Ominis has messed with your head because clearly Ominis has messed with your head, there's no other explanation for you leaving his side and crawling back to that bastard.

He knows you don't love the auror, you could never love him. So what made you go back? He needs answers. He would have gotten them sooner, gotten you sooner, had it not been for your pest of a husband.

His old friend had been tracking him like a blood hound since the afternoon after the night he shared with you. But Ominis underestimated him, his skill, his intelligence. Ominis thinks he is the predator.

The door creaks slowly open, the hinges old and rusted. "You were a fool to come back here, Sallow." Ominis stood in the doorway, the grey light of the cloud filled sky seeping in behind him.

The auror took a few steps forward, letting sagging wood slowly groan as it fell shut. "You should have stayed away, I gave you your freedom, and you wasted it by trying to come back for her."

Sebastian leaned back, watching Ominis with a lazy gaze, his fingers still fiddling with his wand. "Of course I came back for her. You thought I wouldn't?" Sebastian tsks, "Truly old friend, you should have known better."

Ominis shrugs, "Your mistake, fugitive. They've already got your cell in Azkaban waiting for you."

"Have they?" Sebastian let's out a breathy laugh, Ominis' lips twitch in irritation.

"You never could take anything seriously."

"Ohh, you've caught me." Sebastian throws his hands up in mock surrender though he knows the auror cannot see the gesture.

"You've cornered the big bad fugitive. Haven't you, Gaunt?" Sebastian stands, Ominis points his wand at the abrupt action. "I cared about you once, Sallow. I have allowed that past affection to cloud my judgment. I have allowed you to walk a free man. No more."

"Free?" Sebastian sneers, "You keep saying that word, you must have forgotten its meaning for I have not been free in eight years."

"I have lived alongside the rats in sewers, I have starved, I have survived off rotting scraps. I have done much and more just to keep myself alive, and you call that freedom. What did I do to deserve that -"

"You are a murder, Sebastian!"

"I just wanted to save my sister! She was in unending pain, all I ever wanted was to help her! And you and my uncle tried to stop me! Only one person truly supported me!" Sebastian's breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling with heavy huffs.

Ominis features twisted in disgust, "My wife is not yours to claim. We are no longer children, and it has been many years since she was yours. If you had just accepted that, if you had just stayed away. The miserable existence you created for yourself would be no concern of mine."

"But alas Sallow, here we stand. All things must come to an end, you are no exception."

Sebastian barks out a laugh, "Do you plan to kill me, Gaunt?"

"You do not matter enough for me to soil my hands in such a manner."

Sebastian hums, "I only matter enough for you to personally track me for months."

"Only because you came near my wife."

"My point still stands, and I did more than just go near her."

Ominis' grip tightened on his wand, his knuckles draining of color. "Of course you would take pride in that little indiscretion. I'll have you know that my wife does not. That's why she came back home to me. She is waiting for me at home this very moment, swelling with my child."

A ball dropped in Sebastian's stomach, nauseous at the thought of you pregnant with the Aurors child. "You didn't."

A satisfied smirked pulls at Ominis lips, allowing himself to enjoy the blow, for a moment he pays no real mind to Sebastian. But a moment was all Sebastian needed. He lunged.

Sebastian's hand wrapped around Ominis', yanking his away his wand. Tossing it, where it hit against the stone corner of the fireplace, landing with the sound of wood cracking.

Sebastian couldn't explain what came over him, to fight like a muggle, to abandon his wand in the face of a fight. All he knew was he needed to feel his fists collide with Ominis face, he needed to feel the impact, hear the crunch of bone as he landed blow after blow.

He didn't know how long it went on, but when he pulled back, breathing ragged, fists covered in Ominis' blood and knuckles raw and cracked, Ominis wasn't conscious, the only sign of life was his chest rising and falling with shallow breathes.

Sebastian stood, grimacing at the scene before him. Silently thanking the gods, he hadn't lost himself enough to kill someone he once loved. He wasn't dead, and at the very least, Sebastian was grateful for that. He had done terrible things in these past years, but there were still things he could not bring himself to do. Things he could never forgive if he did. Not again.

This was for the boy he was, the boys they were. Sebastian left the auror there, a silent prayer that their paths never cross again.

When he stepped out of the worn down cottage, rain was falling, showering down on him, soaking through his clothes, washing away the blood that clung to him, washing away his sins.

He breathed in deep, closing his eyes. Letting the smell of fresh wet earth permeate his senses. He strolled through Feldcroft as if he owned it, as if he belonged, as if it was his home and his wife he was heading towards. As far as he was concerned, it was.

You are his home, his life, his everything. And only the thought of having you again got him through those long years. He had laid out his path, his future, your future. All that was left was collecting that which he loved most.

His hand wrapped around the handle, cold metal biting into his skin. He could feel the magic that was surrounding the house, protection charms on top of protection charms. But these charms were not meant to protect but trap.

Sebastian pulled his wand out, casting counter charms, breaking down layer after layer. It was not quick work, and truthfully not something he would have been able to do if not all that he had learned on the run. The magic he was using to break down the barriers is something others would call dark. Sebastian just calls it a different kind of magic, a necessary kind.

He finally broke through, the knob turning in his hand, the door sliding open to welcome him into the warm cottage. The smell of cinnamon toast was wafting through the air, nostalgic and inviting.

"You're back husband." Your voice was meek, docile. You came out from around the corner that led down the hall, your bare feet padding softly against the carpets you had laid out around the house.

"Sebastian." You stopped in your tracks, hands at your side, fists bunching into the fabric of your skirts. "Where is Ominis?" Sebastian's lip twitched in irritation at the question. "Gone."

"Y-you-" A gasp escaped, your hand coming up to press the tips of your fingers to your mouth in shock.

"For merlin's sake, I did not kill the man. He just happens to be ... indisposed." Sebastian waved a hand in the air. "But he'll come back to an empty home, you're coming with me."

You walked towards him, steps slow and cautious. Reaching a hand out to caress his cheek once you stood before him. Feeling him, in the flesh, your skin against his, that was your breaking point. You lauched yourself into his arms.

Violent sobs overtook you, your body shaking with the force of them as you clung to Sebastian. You held onto him as tight as you could, readjusting your grip to try and tighten it every few seconds. You crumpled in his arms, he allowed you to, sinking to the ground so you could sit in his lap. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder as he cradled you.

"I'm sor-ry, I-m sorry, s-orry." You mumbled almost incoherent apologies into his shirt in between hiccups. "My sweet girl," he cooes, "you have nothing to apologize for." One arm holds you as the other hand runs through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

He holds you, whispering soothing words and sweet nothings until you calmed down. "I shouldn't have come back ... I felt so guilty for betraying Ominis ... I-I," you shook your head, trying to articulate your thoughts.

"He supported me for so long, I felt like I owed it to him to come back. My own happiness be damned but ... he ... I've been trapped in this house for months, Sebastian. All this time, all I could think of was you," you brought a protective hand up to rest on your stomach, "and our child."

"Our?"

"This life that grows inside me, it could only be yours, my love. The thing about contraceptive potions ... you can make them for one person. The ones I brewed only kept out Ominis. It worked for years, I know it didn't just suddenly stop. This is your child, Sebastian, our child."

His lips are on yours in a hearts beat, soft and needy. His tongue swipinging over your bottom lip as his hand tangles in your hair. It felt like home, it was a feeling he longed for during the countless nights alone.

You moaned into the kiss, allowing yourself to finally relax, to feel safe in the Sebastian's arms. His fingers had come up to clumsily undo the buttons of your blouse, never breaking your kiss.

You pulled away, taking over, discarding your clothes in a rush, your fingers precise where his had been ill practiced. He did the same, tossing his clothes aside without a care before pulling you back into him, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

"I am going to ruin this house the same way I ruined you." He pressed a kiss to your temple, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps down your skin. "I'm going to fuck you over every surface of this house." He pushed you up against the nearest wall, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden impact . His lips traveled down, warm kisses along your neck making a shiver run down your spine.

"I'll not leave a single room unspoiled for that insecure twat." He kissed his way down your torso, settling himself between your legs, pulling a leg over his shoulder to expose you to him, you sucked in a breathe as his breathe fanned over you.

"Fuck, you're so wet already. This is all for me, pretty girl?" His tongue swipes slow and torturous over your sopping cunt, flicking over your bundle of nerves at the end. "So fucking sweet."

He looking up at you with hungry eyes, every puff of air he breathes out hitting your clit, making you shiver above him but he make no move to continue. "Sebastian, please." Your words are breathless and a hand tangles in his hair as you attempt to push his face right where you need him.

"Beg."

"Sebastian." You throw your head back in frustration. You couldn't find the words to describe how you want him if you tried. "Stop playing games with me."

"I'm not." He leans just enough to let the tip of his nose graze the sensitive bub, "I just wanna hear you say it. Come on, just once." He presses a kiss, you sigh at the feeling.

"Please, Sebastian, I need you, please touch me."

Those words, the slight whine in your voice, sent a jolt to his already hard cock. He has one hand supporting your hip and leg over his shoulder, the other arm supporting your back and pushing you closer to him.

His mouth is pressed back against you, sucking, nipping, licking away as you grip his hair. You had always felt pleasure with Ominis, wanted him even but not like this.

Though the physicalities of it all were much the same, it was different, in your heart, in your soul. No other could make you feel the way he did, the way you felt right now.

Your legs tensed, attempting to close around his head. His arm dropped from your hip, wrapping around your thigh to pry your legs back apart, never stopping his ministrations against your throbbing clit.

Your orgasm racked your body, your head thrown back in pleasure. Sebastian stayed kneeling, peppering kisses along your inner thighs and hips. Chuckling to himself as he listened to your pants, your body trying to regulate itself again coming down from your peak.

Your legs wobbled as he stood, allowing you to plant both legs on the ground once again. He leaned in kissing you, allowing the taste of your cum to settle on your tounge.

"You're all fucking mine, now show where your bed is sweetheart." You lead him to your bedroom by his hand.

"How does your husband normally fuck you?" You hummed, crawling onto the bed before flopping onto your back, bringing your knees up just enough to give him space to join you, as Ominis normally does.

Sebastian clicks his tongue against his teeth with a tsk. "Everytime?"

"Near enough. Would you like something different?"

Sebastian walks over to you, bringing his hand to wander over your breasts, pulling a pert nipple between fingers. Twisting and pulling at the nub, earning a soft moan from you. He lets his fingers wander, trailing over your ribs, scratching his nails lightly over your stomach.

He stoops just below your hips, giving a quick tap. "Come here." You crawl back off the mattress, slightly uncertain in your movements. You stand before Sebastian, feeling even more exposed though nothing has changed.

He examins you, letting his eyes follow his hands path as it trails. He gathers your hair in one palm, pulling it behind your shoulders and letting it fall loose.

His fingers graze your collar bone, the way he's looking at you makes you feel like a piece of art, something that exists only for him to admire. Running his fingers over every curve and crevice like he's trying to understand how you were created. You shiver under his scrutinizing gaze.

He grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, softly, just enough to bring your eyes to his. "Bend over." His voice is soft but commanding, leaving no room for argument. And you don't need to be told twice.

You gather all your pillows, pulling them to your chest to prop you up a bit as you lean over the mattress. The anticipation alone making your clit throb.

Sebastian brings a rough hand up to further feel as he looks you over, the sight almost rivals looking up at you from between your legs, almost. He grips the flesh of your ass, gods how many times did he have this exact dream?

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on, do you know that?" He let his hands settle in a firm grip on your waist, leaning over you, his hard cock pressed into your bottom as he pressed kisses into your spine, whispering as he went.

"I promise I'll make you happy, I'll give you anything you want or need. I'll give you a life you deserve."

He lined himself up with your dripping entrance, "You ready?" Letting his cock sink in slowly after you nodded your approval.

He groaned at the feeling of the wet warmth wrapping around him, quickly falling into a steady place. Sliding in and out of you with deep stokes, allowing the tip of his cock to bully your cervix.

You could feel the coil in your gut winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, so close to tipping you over the edge. You buried your face the mattress, muffling your cries and tangling your fists in the blankets.

"Oh no baby, I wanna those pretty little moans." Sebastian wrapped your hair in a fist, using it to pull you up into his chest. The grip of his other traveled from your hips to your stomach, pressing down just below your naval. The grip he had in your hair moving to keep a firm grip on your throat, keeping you pressed firmly against him.

This angle allowed him to fuck you at depths you'd never felt before, depths that had you tipping, the coil snapping inside you as you spasmed around him. Throwing your head back in pure ecstasy as another orgasm over took you.

Sebastian nuzzled his face into the exposed crook of your neck, sucking and biting in a fresh pink mark. His hips slowing their pace but continuing enough to draw out your pleasure.

"You didn't finish." You were panting, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat. You continued to clench around him, your body overwhelmed but still mindlessly chasing the pleasure only he could give you.

"I didn't want to yet." You could feel him smile against you."You're not satisfied yet, you animal?" You let out a breathy laugh but Sebastian only hummed bringing his fingers down to rub harsh circles into your swollen bud.

"I'll never be done with you." He pulled out, letting you lean against him, almost pure dead weight, unable to keep yourself standing.

He leads you to the kitchen on unsteady legs, arm around your waist supporting you the entire way. "Keel for me, love."

A good obedient girl, all his, only his. He smiled down at you as you struggled to fulfill his request, looking up at him through your lashes once you succeeded. "So pretty." He muttered, in awe of the sight before him.

You wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft guiding him into your waiting mouth. Your tongue wrapping around the underside of his shaft as you bob around him, your hand stroking what you can't fit. "Good fucking girl." Sebastian practically growls the words.

One hand shooting out to tangle at the roots of your hair, he uses the leverage to push you further down. You let him, your own hands gripping the flesh of his bottom, blunt nails digging in as you gag around him. Sebastian let's out a low hiss, enjoying the slight mix pain and pleasure.

He uses his grip to hold you in place as he thrusts, the tip of his cock abusing the back of your throat. Drool is dripping down your chin and tears well in your eyes but you let him use you, the sight of him with his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut, and teeth biting so hard into his bottom lip you think he might make himself bleed, it's too lovely a sight for you to try and pull away.

His thrusts become erratic before burying himself so deep you gag around him as your nose presses against his pubic bone. Tears finally falling free as his warm, salty cum shoots down your throat, he holds you there until he's sure you've swallowed all of it.

When he finally pulls free with a soft pop from your mouth, your lips are puffy and swollen with a line of drool still connecting the two of you.

He pulls you to your feet, still using your hair as his personal tool. He pushes you up against the table, your hands falling to grip the hard wood and steady yourself. Sebastian doesn't wait before dipping his head to the valley between your breasts, his tongue darting out the catch the drool that had slid down your skin, his tongue following the wet path up the collum of your throat ending at your lips.

His kiss is feral, possessive, all tongue and teeth nipping at your lower lip. His hands wrap around your thighs to hoist you up onto the wood. "Merlin, I need you like I need air." He speaks the words against your lips, his eyes falling shut as he presses his forehead to yours, a shuttering breath falling from his lips.

"I love you, Sebastian." You whisper back to him, using the back of a hand to rub against his cheek softly. He smiles at you, a man captived by what he never truly thought he would have, never thought he deserved. Truthfully he's not sure he does deserve this, deserve you. But he'll be damned before he lets anyone else have you.

He's using his tip to gather the slick from your still seeping hole, rubbing it over your clit, making you shudder. When he feels he's gathered enough he pushes back into you, making you gasp.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, letting your head fall against a shoulder. He splays one large hand over your lower back and uses the other to balance against the table. His hips stutter at first, still sensitive from his orgasm, but he find his pace.

You had never realized how loving sex can feel, how his pace alone could convey that. The way his fingers dig into your skin with every thrust, every pant and groan that escapes him. You knew, all of it told you, this is a man that worships you, a man that has been enamored by you since he first met you. And though he may tell you, you're his, first and foremost, he's yours.

It didn't take long for either of you to reach another orgasm, both your bodies still so sensitive. You clung to him as your third orgasm overtook you. His grip on you was brusing as his hips jutted rhythmless against you, he muttered incoherent praises into your skin and his seed shot into you.

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other as you came down from your respective highs. "My sweet boy, my Sebastian." You mumbled against him as you stroked your fingers through his hair, the words made him cling tighter to you, part of him worrying if he lets you go this time he'll never hold you again.

"Promise you won't leave me."

"Oh my darling," you coo at him, bringing him up to face you, to look you in the eyes, "you have my heart, you carried it with you all these years. I couldn't leave you if I tried for I am yours, mind, body and soul. I think our love could transcend lifetimes."

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Epilogue;

"I am not, you insatiable beast." You giggled pulling your hands out of the soapy water you had just been using to wash dishes.

"You satiate me, love." He turns you to face him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Beautiful." He mumbles, bringing a hand up to rest on the swell of your stomach. "Me or the baby?"

He hums, "Both. The most beautiful beings to every grace this gods forsaken planet."

You shake your head, "Well, you can't put another in me until this one is out. And we still have some time yet so I think you should focus on the here and now and go get ready for work."

You brush his curls out of his face, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. He hums, smiling at you, "Yes, you are ever correct, wife."

"Husband." You give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Brother, it's mine!" The shrill voice of your five year old daughter echos through your house, followed by the mischievous giggle of her younger brother.

"Hey! Hey!" Sebastian calls out, rushing over to the running toddler in two quick strides, scooping the child up in his arms. The boy giggles wrapping his arms around his father. "We don't steal, my boy. Play nice now, you lot cannot be stressing your mommy while she's pregnant. It's not good for the baby."

He kneels, pressing the stolen stuffed rabbit back into his daughter's hands. She smiles quickly at him before scampering away, toy in hand. He shoos his son shortly after before turning back to you.

"What's the max?"

"I was thinking this might be the final one." You leaned against the counter, watching him with a glint in your eye.

"I was thinking at least one more." He responded.

"Aye perhaps. I could never say no to you." You walk over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

"How do you think the muggles do it?" You asked.

"I don't think they do, bet they cry themselves to sleep wishing they had a silencio charm."

"Seb!" You scolded with a playful slap to his chest.

When Sebastian was young he thought himself the master of plans, thought himself brilliant even but nothing will ever top this, this success. The best plan he ever wrought, whisking you away to America. Muggles know nothing of him, nothing of you. His life is sweet, a dream come true. And he is most grateful.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow imagine #Sebastian sallow smut #Sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow angst #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy angst #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x you #sebastian sallow x you #ominis gaunt #Ominis gaunt angst #˗ˏˋ꒰ 𖹭 my work 𖹭 ꒱ˎˊ˗

216 notes · View notes