#g/t hand reference

[tthevoic3s]

something I thought could help if you struggle with hands (which are a crucial part in gt)

probably will do more! it was fun heheh

-> the only rule : credit if traced.

*slips back into his bat-cave*

[entomolog-t]

Can I squeeze tiny vampire man in a loving way

Did you say loving?

I thought you said emotionally devastating

My bad.

----

A lil sneak peak at a comic/tiktok I've been working on

I think I like the creepy lil blackened hands for Aedes.

[ensmallened-thoughts]

I made this little guy out of pipe cleaners so I could have a pose/scale reference of a ten cm tall fella but now I can't stop playing dolls with him. My beautiful reference touy

[babysfirsthaze]

Frustrated...(Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader)

Synopsis: Your girlfriend is a commander of war. She' needs someone to be mean to, and you're willing and able.

Content: MEAN!Caitlyn, dubcon if you squint (yg have a safeword I promise.), dacro if you squint, degradation, sex referred to as 'bullying' one (1) time, reader compared to a dog one (1) time (not in dialogue), fem!reader, fingering, spanking, pussy spanking, aftercare, reader's bush is mentioned one (1) time

A/n: im gonna need you guys 2 be super nice 2 me ab this one okay. I'm 3 cones deep time of writing. Caitlyn I need you SOOOO BADD, this fic is very not normal proceed w caution

Caitlyn Kiramman is not a gentle woman. She never has been, not really; learned to shoot things down and dead when she was just a child, carried that sentiment with her to womanhood. And you've been her girlfriend for a few months, she's never really mean to you. Always treats you with the sort of respect she expects people she deems important be regarded with.

But – there's a war brewing. She's a commander. She's been a little stressed lately, of course she would be, and she needs to get that tension out somehow.

Which is how you ended up in this situation, folded over her lap as she spanks you. Hard.

"T-..ten," you manage, nails digging into your palms as you're made to count the harsh, unforgiving blows to your ass. Caitlyns fully clothed, you're stripped bare and dripping arousal all over her nice pants. You can't see her face, but her jaws still clenching, she's only getting madder.

"You like that, don't you? Always been a slut," she spits, her slender hand now grabbing roughly at the fat, kneading it under her palm. She tugs at the skin, spreading open your ass to expose your neglected pussy, making you whine. "So wet, and for what?"

Before you can respond she's spanking you again, affording a harsh slap to the skin where your ass meets your thigh. "Eleven," she supplies for you, her voice mocking, seething with an anger that's not directed at you. "If you can count that high."

You mewl incoherently, ass wiggling to try and get away from the pain. Cait doesn't like that. She grabs you again, and then, all of a sudden – you're being manhandled, shifted so you're more on your side, and she tugs your leg into the air.

"Wha–..?" No time to voice your confusion, because she's already delivering a harsh smack to your pussy, making you moan, loud. She groans appreciatively, her mouth twisting into a (sadistic) smile for the first time since she's been home.

"Pretty girl likes that, huh? Such a good whore."

She presses her hand into your pussy, the heel of her palm against your clit, her tough too rough, too much – she's hurting you, she's enjoying hurting you. It makes you so wet. She has her right hand absent-mindedly (and a little clumsily) stroking your hair, cupping your face – you just look so pretty when you cry, it's not her fault.

"C-caitt! 'S too much, please, too much.." you're sobbing, pussy already puffed up and overstimulated when she slips two fingers in, firmly pressing against your g-spot. And groans, eyes closing for a moment to collect herself. Her face is all flushed by now, and she's smiling, hard; she loves this, taking all her energy out on her pretty, slutty girlfriend. She stuffs her fingers into your hole, curling them up and fucking you so good.

"Fuck, princess, pussys so fuckin greedy...you love this, huh? Love being used like this?" You nod, your body all curled up so you can press your face into her side, muffling your whines. She strokes your hair distractedly, the way one would a fussy dog.

You're getting her top all wet with tears, her pants all wet with arousal. "So messy," she tuts, although her voice is far away, absent-minded. She's more focused on the filthy noises you and your pretty cunt make, on the way your hole swallows her now-wrinkled fingers up so, so greedily.

She lets go of your face for the first time to instead grope one of your tits. It's a simple act of cruelty, of degradation– and it just snaps something in you, your orgasm spilling out of you, all over your thighs, up her arm, getting everything wetter than it was. She moans out loud, just about cums from the sight herself. "Shit, baby, you're such a fucking slut, I love you," she's rambling, digging and rutting her fingers into you, bullying you through your orgasm. You hit her lightly a few times, she hardly notices. She fucks you through it, she's so mean, so unreasonably mean, it's the hardest you've cum in a long time.

Eventually she starts to kiss a line up and down your arm, hand slowing, then pulling out delicately. She cups the back of your head again, her now-free hand coming up to her face so she can suck your arousal off her fingers, one by one. By the time you open your fingers she's licking delicately up her palm, just wanting to taste as much of you she possibly can. You moan out loud again.

"Y'such a good girl, did so well f'me," she cooes, gently running a (wet) hand over your (wet) thigh, trying to soothe the muscle. Her mouth trails up your shoulder and to your face, gently catching your swollen lips in a kiss.

"Did I tell you how much I love you?" She asks, her head still reeling, stomach still swirling with the feeling. You cling to her, overwhelmed and confused and fucked out.

"I got you, baby, I got you...you're so fuckin pretty, yknow that? Made me feel so good, so much better, my good girl, yeah, fuck, baby.."

She nuzzles into your cheek, gently scooting you so you're layed down on the bed. The towel she put under you is completely soaked, seeped into some of the sheets. Oops. She lifts your legs up gently to pull it out from under you anyway, softly kissing on your thighs to distract you.

"Caitlyn," you sob, and she shushes you, shaking her head. "'M done, baby, 'm done. Gonna clean you up now, yeah? Stay awake f'me, baby," she mumbles, pressing her mouth to her hips before straightening up, dropping the towel in the hamper. She'll clean it up in the morning. She also strips off most of her clothes, they're soaked and smell like pussy anyway.

And she returns in panties and a singlet with a soft hand-towel, patting dry your thighs, pussy, bush. Once she's satisfied she moves up to kiss your face, wiping the tears off your cheeks, quietly shushing you.

"Such a messy girl," she cooes, nudging her nose against you affectionately. "You did soo well, baby."

Published on 16/2/25 by babysfirsthaze on tumblr

[pl0tty]

Jojo’s ABC’s of Drarry fic: a rec list of Drarry fics I love, sorted in alphabetical order!

26 fics ♡ 26 authors ♡ a good mix of smut, fluff, angst and plot ♡ enjoy!!

A — All the Earnest Young Men by @tepre (E, 29.4k)

All over London portraits are disappearing from their canvases.

Auror Harry! Expert-in-Magical-Art-Theory Draco! There's running, dancing, falling through ice, what’s this paper giraffe doing here? A great time was had by all.

B — Beneath the Wave by @moonflower-rose (E, 30k words)

Harry is done with a life in the spotlight. No more adventures, no more mortal peril. He wants a quiet life of food and friends, and family. He even manages to have it for a while, until suddenly there are giant rabbits that need ferrying to a mysterious island, and a handsome Draco Malfoy, and Harry's right back in the middle of the action again, despite his best efforts.

C — Come For Me by Frayach (E, 24.6k words)

After Draco is paralyzed in an accident, he and Harry discover a new way to make love.

D — Dwelling by aideomai (E, 83.3k words)

Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.

E — Embers by @shiftylinguini (E, 41.2k words)

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice.

Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter.

F — freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1 (E, 17.1k words)

How can Harry love a man like Draco Malfoy?

If only Draco would let him count the ways.

(Sometimes, a happily-ever-after takes a bit longer than you expect.)

G — Going Postal (A 125-Page Comic) by dustmouth (T)

So Draco and Harry sort of maybe have a bit of a thing going. Which is all fine and good, but would probably be more effective if they managed to be on the same continent for more than five minutes at a time.

H — Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by waspabi (T, 93.3k words)

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

I — I Do Not Love You by @writandromance (E, 228.2k words)

In 2013, a carefully-designed Obliviation leaves Harry reconfiguring his life and identity without any memories of true love; an act that's essentially erased Draco Malfoy from his mind despite a wedding band and shared home.

In 2000, Draco had expected Pansy's relationship with Luna to bring the Gryffindors a bit closer to his orbit of quiet, carefully pacifistic existence, but he never expected to navigate such a transparent embrace into a unit of family, friendship, and love.

A mystery, two love stories, and a reminder that learning to love never has an end date.

J — Je te reverrai by @soliblomst (E, 16.1k words)

When Beauxbatons visited Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, Draco managed to control his attraction to fourteen-year-old Harry Potter.

When Beauxbatons returns three years later for a cultural exchange, Draco's attraction to seventeen-year-old Harry Potter is impossible to curtail.

In his defence, Harry's perfectly tailored blue robes, mixed signals, and French accent do not help.

K — Keep your hands on me by @tenthousandyearsx (E, 21.4k words)

Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).

L — Lusimeles by orphan_account (E, 23.2k words)

“You’re not special, Potter,” Kingsley informs him, not looking up from his work.

“But I’ve already done Occlumency training!” Harry splutters, indignant. “And it’s Malfoy.”

M — More Than That by joosetta (E, 10.9k words)

This is a story about two 52 year old men who refuse to age gracefully.

N — No One Ever Told Me by @slightweasel (M, 25.7k words)

Harry marries Draco to get him out of Azkaban.

Things get weird. And confusing. And then weird some more.

O — Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46.1k words)

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

P — Probationary Action by @toomuchplor (E, 63.3k words)

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

Q — Quickie by @greaseonmymouth (E, 11.8k words)

Harry's 8th year is going okay: he's got a girlfriend, the future is far away, and he has no choices to make. And then Malfoy starts sending him dick pics.

R — Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75.3 words)

Aurors Potter and Malfoy crack the case.

S — Slithering by @astolat (E, 27.3k words)

Draco found the nest down in the Manor’s cellars, while he was clearing them out.

T — Tandem by @fastbrother (M, 90.8k words)

Harry and Draco meet by accident six years after the war. Harry's an Auror with a drinking problem and Draco's a broke student. Things don't work out well. Six years after that, Draco joins the British Auror Office as a Potioneer.

U — Untouched by @stratigraphywrites (E, 11.2k words)

"The magic demands a sacrifice," Malfoy said. "What kind of sacrifice?" Malfoy's mouth twisted grimly. "A virgin." Harry felt his eyes widen. "Killing one?" "No, of course not, Potter," Malfoy snapped. "Don't be macabre. Fucking one." Malfoy exhaled with bitter disappointment. "Fuck. Rules us out." Harry took a deep breath. His face felt hotter than ever. "It doesn't, actually."

Harry's had some terrible birthdays in his life. But this one - trapped in a cave with Draco Malfoy, and only one way out - has to take the cake.

V — Vis-à-Vis-à-Vis by @vukovich (E, 50k words)

Harry's assignment was simple. Close out Draco Malfoy's missing persons case so he can be declared dead.

But who's making withdrawals from Malfoy's vaults? How is a death omen-turned-Unspeakable involved? Is an organization known as the Moirai to blame?

Harry brushes it off until he can't. Until The Prophet is flooded with sightings of dead people. Until Robards throws himself on his sword. Until Ron turns on his own family. Until Harry scarcely trusts his own reflection in the mirror and trusts the stranger in his bed even less.

Until all that stands between war and peace is Harry, a name plate, a stadium of murderers, and Draco Malfoy.

God save the Ministry.

W — What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed (E, 17k words)

Harry loses something important. Malfoy helps him get it back.

X — Ex Nihilo (And Other Feats of An Untrained Veela) by Kandakicksass (E, 129k words)

Ever since returning to Hogwarts, Harry has had nothing to do with Draco Malfoy, who exists at the bottom of the social ladder and is just trying to survive their "eighth year."

One veela presentation (and Harry's natural resistance to veela allure) changes all of that.

Y — Yours is the Earth (Hold On, Hold On) by chickenlivesinpumpkin (E, 127k words)

After a serious accident in the Forbidden Forest, Draco's personality begins to undergo subtle changes. At first, Harry credits this to a new enthusiasm for life. But as the days pass and Draco's behavior becomes more and more mysterious, Harry begins to suspect that something bigger--and darker--is at work.

Z — Zenith by @corvuscrowned (E, 20.6k words)

Desperate to find relief from worsening migraines and broken magic, Harry sets out to reach mystical hot springs that are said to grant healing and realignment.

The only problem? The springs lie deep within a cursed forest that lures hikers to their death by tempting them with their greatest desires.

So when Harry sees Draco Malfoy in the forest, he must be hallucinating.

Right?

Or: A hero’s journey but gay.

[baka-bakeneko]

Give Yourself Peace

John Wick x Fem!Reader

tags: NSFW, MDNI, John Wick 2 storyline, slightly inaccurate John Wick, strangers to lovers, awkward first meet, knight in shining muscle car type, slooooooooow burn [then we fast af], reader is a vet tech type, descent into darkness/Underworld, adventures in dog sitting, age gap, references to Hades/Persephone mythology, flirting over text [or in John's case, just conversing], clothes on sex, cowgirl position, panties to the side, sliiiight voyeurism [if you squint], not a condom in sight-just the vibes, fingering, multiple org*sms, feelings of grief, shower sex, slightly toxic John Wick [he doesn't mean to, he's grieving], pillow talk, use of g*ns, hostage negotiation, talk of animal de*th and instruments involved, Charon/Winston/Santino/Dog involvement, possible relationship talk, attraction to "bad" men, making out in a car, quickie sex

synopsis: You meet a man named John Wick when he's dropping off his dog "Gunner" for a check up. From there, it's a slippery slope into a new world.

wc: 19. 7 k 😮‍💨

a/n: okayyy, yes, i did write this before finishing that one River Ward fic but this idea took me by storm in the dead of night. No I was not listening to my River Ward playlist when I thought of this, jeez what's with the third degree? my computer is actually trying to die on itself as i type this rn

You raised a brow at the man entering the clinic, wearing a red-stained dress shirt and tattered suit jacket.

"Hi," he began, walking up to the front counter as you straightened up before him.

"Hi," you repeated, meeting his dark eyes and internally wincing at the cuts on his face.

He was stoic, un-moving as he braced a hand on the counter. But his lips curled slightly in a smile. His hand slid, his forearm bracing the counter as he relaxed.

"Hi," he said again, this time his deep voice echoing through you. You couldn't help but return his polite smile, edging up on your toes to finally look down at his pet.

"Who do we have here?" You asked down at the beautiful dark gray pittie. The dog sat, tilting his head at you and you melted an inch staring into his cute light brown eyes.

"This is..." the man looked down at his dog and tilted his head with a loss of words. You raised a brow at him, waiting as he turned to look at you again with a slightly defeated look. "Gunner."

You huffed an amused air from your nose. "Cute, he looks like a Gunner."

The man nodded as you rounded the counter and took a careful knee before the pittie. "Is he friendly?"

"Absolutely." He barely managed to answer as the dog turned in the direction of you and started nuzzling into you.

His paws pattered the floor, stepping further into you and begging to be pet. You obliged, cooing at the attention-seeking pup, patting at his round body and scratching behind his ears.

You smooched at him, showering praise at this stranger's dog for a minute then looked up at the stranger himself. He was propped up on the counter, watching you love on his pet, with what you recognized as blood on his dress shirt.

"And is Gunner's owner friendly?" You cooed at Gunner, holding the dog's face in your hands to smush his cheeks.

The stranger scoffed, his lips curling in a wry grin before answering: "Gunner thinks so."

Your stomach fluttered at the stranger speaking, though you weren't sure if it was an instance of fight or flight. Meeting the stranger's dark eyes again, you quirked your mouth to the side.

"Does Gunner's owner have a name?" You asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth at the last moment.

"He does," the stranger answered as you slowly stood up from your place. His hand extended out for you to take, and you noticed his knuckles tattered with blood and swelling. "John."

You ignored whatever warning pang was rushing through your body as he introduced himself. Your hand reached out to grab his, minding your grip to not bring him pain. When you uttered your name, his smile only grew, finding himself pushing upright to tower over you.

"Nice to meet you." John said, his voice straining a bit.

"Same to you," you said, giving his hand a polite shake before dropping it and returning to your paperwork. "What're you bringing Gunner in for today?"

You stood outside of the clinic, circling through your ring of keys to find the one for your door. It never failed, with how many keys you had, it was always the last one you expected.

You bounced on one foot to keep yourself alert, filing through your keys in the unexpectedly cool night. You were already running late to meet up with friends and now you were battling your stomach rumbling.

As you were nearing the end of your key leash, you heard a few whistles from behind you. A cold ice jutted down your back, making your insides become rigid with the thought of being watched.

Still, you ignored it as best at you could, pretending to not hear whatever calls were over your shoulder. Your bouncing foot quickened, hoping you had found your out before whatever approached you.

With the final key try, you managed to lock the door and turn in the direction of your car only to be stopped by two tall men stood before you.

You excused yourself, backing away from them only to turn around to find two more men behind you. Staring at the men surrounding you, you glanced sideways into the street and stepped out.

"Where you goin' sweetheart?" One of the men called after you.

You held the strap of your bag tighter on your shoulder, your senses heightened as you heard the combined steps of the men crossing into the street.

You picked up your pace, scanning down both ways of the road with minimal cars around, only for their steps to heighten just the same. The rigid gulp that lodged in your throat was now cementing, your heart racing as you found yourself running across the street and onto the opposite sidewalk.

Your vision tunneled as you focused on getting away, unsure of what would happen if the strange men caught up to you. Turning down the perpendicular street, you barely glanced behind you as a car pulled up next to you.

The door swung open, over half of the curb, and you were almost stopped by it but managed around it. Looking at the car, you cautiously peered from a distance to see a slightly more familiar face than the strangers following you.

"Come on, I'll drive you to your car," John offered, his mannerisms unbothered and cool.

You looked behind you at the group of men now turning the corner after you. With another glance into the car, you saw Gunner and opted to take a chance with the slightly better devil you knew.

Climbing in, you shut the door quickly and looked over your shoulder at the goons left in the wake. You turned around to John, ready to share your gratitude but opted to catch your breath first.

You wheezed, holding the dash of the dark muscle car, and held your free hand to your chest. The instant adrenaline rush through your body was now wracking your heart, making your eyes water though you were unscathed.

"Are you alright?" John asked, one hand draped on the steering wheel and his other carefully cradling the gear shift.

You overly nodded, blinking away the mist of tears while your mind started to race with the horrific possibilities of what could've happened.

"T-thank you," you choked out, bringing your eyes away from John's dash to look at him. "I-I..."

John glanced over at you but said nothing else, only nodded in acknowledgement before changing the subject. "Your car's nearby?"

You nodded again, finally peeling yourself to sit back in the leather seat. You admired it for a moment, luxuriated by the curve and plush, but were interrupted by Gunner's wet nose to your ear.

You giggled, shrugging a shoulder up to get the dog to stop then reaching a hand back to pat his head. "Sweet boy."

John smirked dryly at your comment, slowing down to scan the two parking lots on either side of the street. "Here?"

You nodded, pointing to the right side of the street to your little rinky-dink car. "That's me."

You expected John to laugh at it, seeing as his car could literally drive circles around yours. But he didn't, only pulled into the lot and braked in front of it.

"Volvo's are a classic," he commented, gearing his car to remain stationary. He shifted slightly in his seat to face you.

You turned to do the same, noticing that he'd probably gone home to clean up and change; seeing as he was in a cleaner shirt, the blood on his knuckles nonexistent.

"Have a good night, okay?" He offered, meeting your eyes.

The adrenaline in your body pooled in that moment, making you feel jittery though you were pin still. You nodded again, wondering if you were nodding too much.

"Thanks. And thanks again for the ride, I appreciate it," you said quickly, unsure why your nerves were acting up now.

"Yeah," John drew out, looking at the back of his car, past Gunner and through the back windshield. "You gonna be okay?"

You nodded again, noting that you'd have to force something out. "Y-yeah, of course. I just don't know what their deal was. I'll be fine."

John's eyes skirted back to you, taking in your shaken demeanor with a once-over. "If you want, I could give you my number. In case it happens again."

He didn't want to mention how fast he'd be to escort you, but he was aware of his speed.

You held your hands in your lap, glanced down at them then back. "S-sure, it wouldn't hurt."

John watched as you carefully retrieved your phone and nervously unlocked it; turning the bright screen to him, he cradled the device and tenderly put his phone number in then turned it back to you.

You looked at him from your screen then back and saved it to contacts. "Thanks."

John said nothing else, only nodded; you gathered yourself, pulling your keys from your bag and opening the door to get out.

"Bye Gunner," you offered to the dog, reaching to pat his head. "Good night, John."

You climbed out of the car, tenderly shutting the door after yourself as John offered a polite wave through the front windshield. He geared his muscle car in reverse, throwing his arm behind the passenger seat to look behind and turn back onto the road.

You stood in the silence, watching as John drove off with your adrenaline in tow. Your heart pattered with a new sense, unsure of what to call it, but you stashed it away to rush to your car.

You found yourself lying awake, staring at the ceiling, in the middle of the night. Deliciously buzzed by two cocktails, you replayed the moments of the days events.

Hot stoic man walks in, hot stoic man has a dog, hot stoic man saves you from not-so-good guys, hot stoic man makes you feel safe.

You blinked slowly, your phone clutched in your hand while you tried to fall asleep. In a shock of embarrassment and a little confidence, you launched yourself upright and swiped your phone open.

Navigating through your phone, you managed to pause at the draft stage of sending John a text.

-Thanks so much againn for saving me tonight

You stared at your message for a moment, wondering if you should add more but decided against it at the last moment. You watched as the bubble popped up at the beginning of the thread, with the small status of the message as 'delivered'.

You sat still for a moment, your eyes threatening to close but in a long blink, your message went from 'delivered' to 'read'.

You froze, a new warmth starting from the inside of your chest, as your phone flopped onto the bed before you. You barely had the second to think of sending a 'i'm so sorry' text at realizing how late it was.

John: Is that what that was? I thought it was a friendly ride

He hadn't been able to sleep, finding himself at the Continental bar with 'Gunner' at his feet. John fingered around the rim of his glass, expecting the whiskey to dull his nerves but found himself brought back by your text.

You grinned dumbly at his response, snickering to yourself before gearing up your response.

-You're right. Thank you for the friendly ride to my car

You stared long at this response, wondering if did any good for the conversation. If this was even a conversation. You sent it anyways, but added further.

-I'm just thankful you were there when you were

John stared at his phone, glass cradled against his bottom lip as he stared at the messages that came in. His heart cinched for a moment, wondering if he was taking it too far. But it was a simple text exchange, nothing more.

John: I am too. Good night.

He paused in his message, feeling it to be too curt. You were just sharing your gratitude, nothing more. John understood, having felt the similar way of feeling cornered.

"Having a nightcap, are we?" Winston asked, sidling up behind John's seat.

"Winston," John stated.

"Jonathan," Winston offered back, pulling a chair open and sitting down. "I'd have expected you to be in bed already. Preparing for your long trip."

John glanced down at his phone, the open conversation between the two of you left on his end. "Yeah, but what can I say? Nerves got to me."

Winston quirked a brow in John's direction, tilting his head slightly at the sight of his phone upright. "There's no such thing as nerves with you."

John took a sip of his whiskey, letting it be his pause before he smacked his lips in appreciation.

"What is it?" Winston asked, undoing his suit jacket button.

John set his glass down on the bar and circled it under his fingers. "There's a girl."

"A girl?" Winston repeated, raising his eyebrows in slight surprise. "I fear I've heard that before."

John folded his lips together as he nodded, knowing that he'd said it a long time ago. "Yeah."

Winston took John's response with a purse of his lips, a tilt of his head. "So there's a girl."

"A woman," John corrected, turning his head in Winston's direction but not meeting his friend's eyes. "And I want to keep her safe."

"Then it's best not to interfere," Winston offered without a beat missed.

John found himself agreeing, but still opened his mouth. "I can't do that."

Winston's eyes steadied on John's stoic face, watching as his dark eyes finally rose to meet his. The older gentleman opened his mouth in a soft 'ah' then sucked his teeth in consolation.

"What're we going to do, then?" Winston asked, straightening up to the bar and raising his hand in a silent order to the bartender.

John picked up his glass again, sloshed the diminishing liquid around then pursed out a hard air. "I have an idea."

You managed to stretch yourself out at the foot end of your bed, holding your bright phone before your face while you tried to hold off of sleep.

There was no reason for John to respond back to you, especially with the time. You imagined that you had woken up this poor, tired man with diathesis just hours after getting home.

And you groaned in your sleep, feeling awful. With your next minute spurt of energy, you'd apologize to him for waking him up so late.

However, the buzz of your phone steeled you awake. You blinked at the bright screen before your face, eyes focusing on the message you received.

John: I am too. I know this is sudden, but would you like to get breakfast?

In the misty morning, you stood on the curb in front of your apartment building under your umbrella. You were patiently waiting for John to show up to take you to breakfast, hoping that it was the Greek diner just a few blocks from your job.

After a few moments, you expected a text from him saying you two would have to reschedule. It was only a matter a time, something you assumed was in the New York air. Plans were never fulfilled, always to be rescheduled.

Your inner plight was paused by the black, unmarked car that pulled up before you. Your reflection in the tinted windows was perplexed, taking a few steps back to assess your escape.

The driver side door opened and a well-dressed man wearing rimless glasses stood out and buttoned his jacket. You waited a moment, taking in the man's movements as he reached for the back door of the car.

"Miss, I've been sent by Mr. John Wick." The man announced, holding the back door open for you to get in.

You stared at the man for another moment in silence, pondering if you ever learned John's last name. You questioned if this man was trustworthy, even though he gave no reason to not be.

"Okay..." you drew out, looking both ways down the empty sidewalk before stepping cautiously towards the car. You folded your umbrella, setting it on the car floor.

You reluctantly climbed in, your nerves raising on their ends as you sat down and buckled your seatbelt behind the driver seat.

The driver smiled politely at you, shutting the door firmly before unbuttoning his suit jacket and climbing into the driver seat again.

He adjusted his mirror, buckled his seatbelt then geared the car into drive and turned on his veering signal. You held your hands in your lap, letting your bag slide to the empty space next to you.

"How do you know John?" You asked, attempted to fill the silence and calm your nerves.

The driver glanced back in his mirror after veering back onto the street, meeting your eyes with his polite smile reaching his gaze.

"Mr. Wick is a regular guest at my hotel." He offered, which didn't ease you very much.

You grinned cheaply at the driver, then let it drop. "Oh, of course."

You assumed, by John's paperwork for Gunner, that he lived nearby. You turned to look out of the tinted window, trying to map the area you were driving into.

The driver continued, "I am the concierge of the Continental. Mr. Wick has done a lot of work for my hotel."

Your raised your brows at that, glancing in the direction of the rearview mirror to meet the driver's eyes.

"My name is Charon," he finally introduced himself, hitting his turn signal down a caddy-corner street before stopping at the corner before sleek, marble stairs up to ornate glass doors. "Mr. Wick will see you inside."

You flinched as your door opened with a bellhop standing quietly on the sidewalk. Charon nodded after you, with you unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing your bag and umbrella.

You stood under the bright awning of the hotel as the bellhop shut the door, leaving Charon to drive around the curb to park the car. You held your umbrella under your arm awkwardly, righting the strap of your bag as you took in the darkening sky of the morning.

"Miss," the bellhop instructed, holding his crisp gloved hand in the direction of the dry stairs.

You politely smiled, then walked up to the front door only to be greeted by yet another bellhop. Maybe you should've stopped when you got out of the car, feeling that each step you took brought the warning pangs back.

It felt like a distracted descent, the quiet luxury and decadence of the hotel drawing you in though it felt hostile just the same. The bellhop at the door guided you in the direction of the seating area, where patrons were gathered at white tablecloth tables in front of floor-to-ceiling windows to enjoy their breakfast.

Your heart continued to race as you walked through the lobby and into the seating area, feeling particularly under dressed compared to everyone else around you.

John sat at the table, with Gunner sat next to him, sipping at his black coffee. His eyes were trained at the doorway, glancing at his watch to track how much time he had left to spend in your presence.

Your eyes scanned the room before finally stopping at John. He was dressed in a cleaner suit, his hair combed away from his face and drinking coffee.

He paused in his drink, almost rushing to stand as he rounded the table to pull out your seat. You rested your umbrella on the arm of your chair then sat down, looking up at him with a smirk.

"What'd I do to deserve this?" You asked, allowing John to aid your seat under the table.

"N-nothing," John said, reaching to smooth down his hair as he sat down. "Just wanted to talk."

Your smirk turned into a smile, sitting up straight as if trying to perform for the hotel itself. John breathed in deeply, taking in your demeanor before calling the waiter over.

"Would you like some coffee?" John asked.

You nodded, holding your hands in your lap only for them to be occupied by Gunner's fat snout. You grinned down at the pup, scratching behind his ears as the waiter approached with a pristine cup, pouring into it with a shining french press.

"You know, when I was imagining what you did, I never imagined it was tied to this," you commented as the waiter set your cup down before you, then offered a fresh cream pitcher to the table.

John quirked a brow in your direction, taking another sip to punctuate his next words carefully. "You were imagining what I do?"

You gulped and paused, realizing that you had said your inside thought out loud. "I mean, I do for a lot of people. Mostly just walking by," you sheepishly offered in reason.

Staring across the table at this stoic man, you were reminded of staying up even later after you finally told him good night, picturing his face as your hand rested on your chest.

John gave away nothing, his eyes still while he mapped the soft expression on your face. He bit inside his lip noting the minute flush of your cheeks, how you shifted in your chair.

He scoffed in amusement, letting your excuse slide. "What did you think I did?"

You shrugged, reaching for the cream and pouring it into your coffee cup. You sprinkled in sugar from the decor bowl in the center, then used your own spoon to stir it together.

"Your paperwork said 'retired'," you began, another internal strike with bringing up your interested reading of his and Gunner's papers. "I thought you were maybe ex-military."

John's smirk lifted. "Something like that."

He leaned back in his chair, not wanting to puff his chest in pride. He had to remind himself that this was temporary again, the mantra in his head repeating over and over.

"Have you always wanted to work with animals?" John asked, deflecting the conversation from digging any deeper.

You remembered Gunner's head in your hands, looking down at your lap to playfully mush his face. "Kind of. I love seeing all of their sweet faces. I'd hate to see them in pain though, so it's the best and worst at once."

John couldn't help his trained stare on you, as you bowed your head to pet and praise at Gunner. He knew he was taking things in an odd direction, but he thought that it'd keep both of you safe at once.

"So, that's part of the reason I asked you here." John added, sitting upright as his hand braced the table. "I'm going out of town for work, about three days, and was wondering if you could watch Gunner for me."

You raised your head, immediately meeting John's eyes. "You want to leave him with me?" You metered your question, though you were excited for the opportunity to watch such a sweet dog.

That, and maybe you wanted to do the hot stoic man a favor. Whatever that was, your heart fluttered at the thought of doing what John asked. Even though you didn't know anything about him, even though he came in looking dangerous and was now portraying a clean slate.

It felt that he was the bright sliver in the imposing building, even though it was all cast in the rainy shadows. You were confused, your head almost done in by your survival bells ringing though you were still approaching the 'yes'.

John nodded. "Yeah, but here."

You leaned forward, unsure if you heard him correctly. While you hadn't thought of what your landlord would say about bringing pets back to your place.

John spared a chuckle at you, genuinely amused by your response. With a shrug of his shoulder, he leaned back again.

"I received a comp for my room, so I'd like for you and him to stay."

You stammered, freezing to think of what to say before shaking your head. Your eyes darted around the large darkly painted walls, ornate paintings and decorations nothing to what you were accustomed to.

"John, I mean..." you weren't sure what to say, knowing this wasn't an invitation to stay with him. "That's very generous."

His face softened, dropping his hand from the table to tilt his head at you. "Please. You'd be doing me a big favor."

Your mouth opened to argue him further, but John's expression was un-moving. He was still stoic, no indication that his offer had strings attached. Even with the atmosphere of the place itself, you found yourself caving.

"It's just a few days, right?" You reassured him, and yourself, by asking.

John's face broke, finding himself smiling again. His cheeks were beginning to ache, realizing that it'd been a while since he smiled so long.

"Yeah, of course. And they have in-house breakfast and dinner, a transit service that you can use to get to work." John noted, hoping that you'd take advantage of it all just to keep you safe.

"I can use it to go to work too?" You repeated, looking down at Gunner than back at his owner. "Can I take him to work with me?'

John's nose scrunched. "If you want, but I'm sure Charon would be able to check in on him when you're gone."

You nodded, looking down at Gunner again before reaching to sanitize your hands. "I think I can do that."

"Good," John said, pulling the menu up slightly to glaze over the menu. His eyes glanced to his wristwatch, knowing that he was losing time to make it to his flight.

Still, he made no quick effort to speed up his breakfast with you. You looked at the menu on the table, your mouth watering at the options available. Of course they were were gourmet, nothing short of the place itself.

You looked up from the edge of the menu, taking in more of this stranger's presence before speaking up. "What was the other reason?"

John froze for a moment, unfortunately caught off-guard by your question. His eyes still scanned the menu, trying to keep his expression at a minimum though his mind was now doubling back on his words.

He wryly smirked as he finally drew his eyes up to meet yours. "Just wanted to check in from last night."

John stood awkwardly before the front door of the Continental, wondering what the polite way to depart from you was. You stood before him, having to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes. He was taller than you remembered, though you were taking him in while on your knees petting his dog.

"I have to go," John offered, reaching his hand out to brace your shoulder. "I'll let you know when I land."

You smiled, nodded. "Okay, and we'll be here. I hope you have safe travels."

John squeezed tenderly at your shoulder, feeling how fragile you were under the weight of his hand. He felt a soft weight off of his mind, knowing that the Continental was a steel trap for any unwanted guests.

His smile softened, dropping his hand to pet Gunner's head. "Good dog. Behave."

And at that, you watched John leave, raising your hand to wave after him before turning to Gunner.

"Your daddy's gone," you pouted, reaching to pat his thick back. "I guess we should get you upstairs."

"Allow me to escort you," Charon chimed in, silently approaching you from behind.

You flinched, sucking in a harsh air between your teeth. Charon offered an apologetic look to you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"My apologies, Miss. Allow me to escort you and Mr. Gunner upstairs," he offered again, waiting for you to regain yourself.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, shifting your umbrella under your arm then waved for Charon to lead. He carefully reached his hand out to take your umbrella, holding it as he led you to the elevator then handed it off to one of the bellhops.

"That is the Miss's. Please do not get them confused." Charon stated, calling the elevator button then holding his hand out for you and Gunner to board first.

Inside, Charon hit the 8th floor button, the antique number lever slowly raising from its resting place as the elevator lifted.

"So, you know John well?" You asked, unable to help yourself.

Charon lifted his chin, looking over his shoulder to you. He offered his tight smile, the same politeness as before. "I'd say so."

You nodded, mentally chewing on his short answer before thinking of another question. "How long has he worked for the hotel?"

Charon's lips changed into a smirk, noting your inquisitive nature. "Approximately 20 years."

Your eyebrows raised then, realizing that John had been working around the time you got your first pet. You folded your lips together, feeling your heart flutter while trying to decipher what that meant.

"Oh, so how long have you worked for the hotel?"

Your curiosity was beginning to get the better of you, each bit you were fed only bringing up more. The further you got from the ground level, the lighter you felt away from the depths.

Whatever darkness was harnessed in the lobby, the foreboding rattling snake vibe it gave, did not reach the upper levels. The elevator opened to the ornate, older decorated walls of the hotel.

The floors were carpeted in a sleek line design, the wallpaper an almost unnoticeable fleur design.

"Long enough," Charon said, chuckling at his own joke.

You spat out an amused air, following the concierge to the room. He stopped at the room at the end of the hallway, fishing into his suit jacket to retrieve the key.

Charon turned the lock, propping open the door for you to enter. You paused just inside the room, taken over by the view of the city from wide windows at the crest of the room.

The ornate decor was not scrimped in the room, seeing through the carved accent wall before walking around it. Gunner traipsed through the room, jumping onto the crisp white sheets of the large bed and sighing like he'd had a rough day.

You looked to Charon, who nodded into the room for you to take it in. You took your time walking through the hotel room, taken aback at the quality. Sure, you'd been in nice hotels before, having stayed in some with accrued loyalty points.

But this felt like a new feeling. It was strange, feeling swayed by the elegance of this hotel being used for you, to watch a pup that didn't seem swayed either way.

Pausing at the wet bar, you wanted to pull out your phone to take a picture just to show your appreciation for John's minimal effort. But looking back at Charon, he straightened his lips and exited the room.

When he left, you rushed to the window to look out at the city. Even with loyalty points, it never bought anything like this. You couldn't help yourself, pulling out your phone to take an overhead view of the city before setting your bag down on the accent table behind you.

You rushed around the room, looking at the other cool parts of the triangle-shaped room. Gunner was unfazed on the bed, resting his head down with a groan.

You had to stop yourself in the bathroom, gasping at the oversized mirror with the bright light inlaid inside the reflective surface. Watching such a good boy was not worth this treatment.

Still, you took a picture of yourself in the mirror, scrunching your nose and sent both to John at once.

-Are you sure about this?? Is there something you're leaving out?

John boarded his charter, retrieving his phone as it vibrated in his pocket. The smile on his lips was subconscious, seeing that you'd messaged him.

Opening his phone, he chuckled at the two photos you sent him. He read your message, finding himself lightened at the scrunch of your face in the mirror.

He paused before his seat, finding himself regretting boarding for the nth time since he left the hotel. John thought of what he would do if he went back, if you'd stay around and keep him company on the sacred grounds of the Continental.

John turned and sat, crossing his ankle over his thigh as he typed a response to you.

John: Oh, I did forget. He's a bed hog. And he likes to steal bacon off your plate. So watch out.

You sat on the bed, staring at the text thread between you and the stoic stranger. You smiled at his response, ready to send another text as soon as you retrieved it.

John: I made it to the plane. I'll let you know when I land. I can't thank you enough for this.

You nipped at your inside lip, wanting to thank him back for the outrageous accommodations. Wanting to thank him for breakfast. Wanting to thank him for his company.

-Okay, safe travels. I'd love to see where you're going.

John's smile remained, staring at your response as the ladder was pulled up and the engines turned on. He exited out your text thread, searching through his contacts to find another number.

"Jonathan," Winston answered on the third ring. He sat in the smoking lounge, with Charon approaching to report. "We have Persephone in the Underworld Palace."

John's jaw grit, attempting to skew the view of you having your own free will. You had the freedom to leave, he had to remind himself, though he wanted you to remain on the neutral ground.

"She showed me," John offered in response, feeling the palpable silence on the opposite end.

Winston and Charon shared a knowing look, with Charon raising his chin and checking his watch.

"Are you sure about this?" Winston asked.

John looked out of the small window to his right, sitting back in his seat as he thought of how long it'd take for him to return to the Continental grounds.

"It'll give me time to think of my next step," John said, reaching to buckle his seatbelt with one hand.

Winston sucked at his teeth, tilting his head in deep thought. "You're dangling her over the pond, Jonathan. Are you sure this is the safest thing you could think of?"

John pursed his lips, shutting his eyes for a deep breath. "I'll be done as soon as I can. I can figure it out from there."

Winston raised his brows in Charon's direction, who shook his head in response. "Safe travels."

Upon ending the call, Winston exhaled deeply and directed to Charon. "Make sure our young Miss and her companion are cared for. Don't allow her exit without escort."

Charon barely widened his eyes, pulling his hands behind his back, ready to execute his orders but Winston raised a finger. "And invite her to dinner on the roof. The four of us. For Jonathan's sake."

Charon nodded. "Of course, sir."

You stood in front of your closet, having been escorted back to your apartment by Charon and Gunner.

The concierge extended an invitation to you and Gunner to join the owner of the Continental for dinner. Apparently he was a close friend of John's and wanted to meet you, as it wasn't often John extended invitations to "outsiders".

You would definitely ask about that as you cycled through your clothes, wondering what dining with the manager fell under for dress code. Everything else was just thrown haphazardly to you weekender bag on your bed: clothes for work, some leggings for taking Gunner on walks, anything for comfort because you felt that you would step outside of the hotel room for anything other than work.

When your bag was packed with your toiletries tossed on top, you turned back to your closet to contemplate your dress code.

For a high-class hotel, you opted for a white long-sleeve dress with a built in silk bodice. It'd suffice, you shrugged, because it was your best dress in your closet. You paired it with your most comfortable flats and stuffed it all on top of your bag.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall then rushed out of the door, making sure everything was off in your apartment. You carefully took the stairs down to the front door, throwing it open to Charon carefully waiting outside of the car for your return.

Gunner poked his happy face out of the driver's side window, staring at other onlookers in silence. You shut the door firmly behind you, grabbing your key to lock it after you.

Charon straightened on his feet, opening the back door of the car while his other hand extended to grab your bag.

"You don't have to--" you tried to argue on holding onto your bag in the backseat, but Charon was firm in taking the straps of your bag.

In a fluid motion, he shut the door after you righted in the backseat then went around the back of the car to open the trunk. You glanced after him, seeing that he didn't linger behind and closed the trunk then returned to the driver's door.

Gunner moved over to the passenger seat, that window open as well, as Charon geared the car into driver and veered back onto the street.

"What's your manager like?" You asked.

Charon glanced in the rearview, his polite grin ever present in his eyes.

"Mr. Scott is an old-fashioned type. Cordial, gentlemanly, with a taste of finer things."

You pursed your lips, looking out of the front windshield, then Gunner. When you looked back at Charon, he was once again fixated at the mirror, expectant of your next question.

"Should I...shape up?" You asked, aware of every movement you were making at that point.

Charon chuckled again, which you were unsure if genuine or sardonic towards you. "I believe you will be fine, miss. I think that Mr. Scott will enjoy your company and questions."

Your lips flattened in a slightly embarrassed smile then turned back to the window. "I'll start thinking of more now."

John paused by the bar of the Rome Continental, steadying his nerves before his mission. He had to remind himself that it would be this would be the last.

Even with the taste of being back, John's mind flashed with the thought of you. He choked on his sip of whiskey, clearing his throat while he stared at the crystal in his hand. Helen.

His mind flashed with the thought of Helen. John blinked, remembering his ring and circling it on his finger. When he felt his chest begin to heave with a new wash of grief, he stifled it with a long pull of his whiskey.

Just as his phone buzzed on the bar. John set the crystal back down, staring at the notification of your message and remembering that he meant to inform you of his landing.

Opening his phone, John was greeted with a photo of you sat on the bed with Gunner sat beside you. You were dressed in a short white dress, the bodice reflecting soft light as you leaned over his dog and hugged his head against your chest.

-We're having dinner with Mr. Scott, hope you made it wherever safely.

John felt struck in his place, staring at the photo in the growing thread of your messages. His heart skipping a beat before he finally picked up his phone to respond.

John: I made it safely. Never knew Mr. Scott extended dinner invitations, you must be lucky.

He looked through his entirely empty photo gallery to share the photo of the Colosseum from his plane window. John sent the message, let his phone clatter to the bar again as he sat back in his chair.

The rushing thought of you instead of Helen made him go askew, knowing that it was wrong to do. He grit his teeth, shut his eyes to remember his late wife's smile and not yours.

This was not what he wanted to happen, hoping to keep you at an arms length but still close enough to be safe.

You stared at your phone as Gunner jumped down from the bed, reading and rereading John's message before staring at the crowded overview of Italy from his plane window.

You zoomed in on the photo, staring at the Colosseum as the flattest fixture amongst all the little buildings, all of it resembling a miniature map.

John pushed himself up from his chair, pocketing his phone as he left the room with determination. He wouldn't be distracted by any feelings, regardless of who they were for, tonight.

Charon knocked gingerly at the door, alerting Gunner to the noise. You slowly stood, straightening out your dress and stashing your phone in its pocket then met the concierge in the hallway.

"This way, miss," Charon stated, starting in the direction of the elevator as before.

Inside the elevator car, Charon turned over his shoulder to look at you. "That is an elegant dress. You look very nice."

You smiled, practically beamed and offered your thanks; you pulled your textured hair behind your shoulder then looked down to Gunner.

The elevator lurched to a slow stop at the top of the hotel. The doors slowly opened to a long hallway, decorated the same as the others, with double glass doors that led out to a concrete patio.

Charon held the door open for you and Gunner, allowing the two of you to step onto the hotel roof patio. The view of the city was surrounding half of the balcony, with a larger building blocking directly beside it.

Your eyes fixated on the black glass patio table, decorated with an ornate black runner and four chairs. At the head of the table, you acknowledged the older gentleman as he stood up.

He approached you carefully, allowing you to take in that he exuded opulence and class, noticing the gilded pocket square in his dark suit jacket.

"Bonsoir chérie," the gentleman offered, gently taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips in a ghostly peck. "My name is Winston Scott, it is nice to meet you."

You smiled politely at him, tilting your head at Mr. Scott. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Scott."

Winston carefully dropped your hand, his face playfully scrunching in offense. "Nonsense, call me Winston."

Your smile twitched further genuine, forfeiting your nicety to agree. "Okay. It's nice to meet you, Winston."

Winston winked at you, then guided you to your seat at the other end of the table. "You look radiant in that dress. I can see how you caught John's eye."

You giggled nervously, watching the older man pull your chair back. Turning your back to him, you tucked your dress to the back of your legs then sat down as Winston aided your chair to the table.

Winston returned to his seat at the opposite end of the table just as Charon pulled a chair for Gunner to sit to your left then rounded to sit to your right.

You looked at the good boy sat at the table, waiting patiently with his mouth open. You couldn't help but snort at the image, thinking that you should've found him a bowtie so he could've fit in for the dress code.

As Winston sat down, he waved a hand to direct the waiter over to the table. A tall martini glass filled close to the brim with an orchid colored liquid. The liquid held a light shimmer as you shifted the glass closer to grab; your eyes narrowed, looking at the beaded garnish at the bottom in a clump of red seeds.

Just as Winston and Charon received their drinks, the hotel manager raised his glass. "Salud."

You took careful hold of the thin-stimmed glass and raised it from the table, repeating Winston's cheers before bringing the drink to your lips. It was bubbly and light, sweet and tart at once.

From the bottom of the glass, you watched the garnish break apart and you opened your lips to ingest a seed with a gulp. When you were satisfied with your sip, you rested the glass back on the table then savored the taste as the seed slipped down your throat.

"Good cocktail?" Winston asked, smacking his teeth to savor his martini.

You nodded, shifting the glass to your left. "Is that cherry? Almost a shirley temple?'

Winston chuckled, shrugging a shoulder up before setting his glass down. "Close. It's pomegranate."

You hummed, letting the palette of the drink reignite on your tongue with that new knowledge. Charon looked over to Winston, sparing a slightly amused shake of his head.

Winston shrugged fully then, entertained by his own theme. "What is it you do, my dear?"

You straightened in your seat, looking over to Gunner enjoying his lap bowl of water then at Winston. "I work for a vet clinic, very small. That's actually how I met John."

Saying it aloud and remembering the timeline, your mind rushed with how fast things moved. You blinked slowly, your heart stumbling in your chest at remembering John a day ago compared to now.

Winston raised his brows: "Oh?"

You nodded and continued. "He brought in Mr. Gunner here for a check-up."

You reached to pat Gunner's head and he panted happily in your direction. Another soft wave of shock went through you, remembering what he looked like when he came into your clinic.

He should've been off-putting, and yet...

Winston tilted his chin, pursing his lips in intrigue. "Gunner, huh?"

You almost ignored Winston's comment, meeting his interested gaze from across the table.

"And he drove me to my car that night," you added finally, remembering with the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You had a nightmare about those men last night, one only fought off by your stoic man in a muscle car. Tightening your jaw, you reached for your drink and wet your lips again.

"Hmm," Winston offered after a moment, turning to Charon for any input.

The concierge was quiet, his own lips pursed in slight interest. Winston smirked waywardly, straightening up to brace his elbows against the table.

He carded his fingers before his mouth, staring across the table at you and wondering what it was that made John choose you.

"Jonathan always has had a soft spot," Winston said after another beat of silence.

You couldn't help your grin again, hearing John's full name. You imagined him as a younger Jonathan, introducing himself as such and Winston never letting it go.

"How long have you known John?" You asked, replacing your glass back to the table.

You realized you were dependent on your drink, noting the glass close to finished. All the garnish was sneakily slipped down with the liquid, leaving the sparkling drink to reflect the encroaching moonlight.

The patio overlights turned on, banishing the darkness and shadows from the area. Your nerves, charged since entering this place, were now directed to performing for John's cohorts.

Not that you needed their approval, you wanted to prove to yourself your etiquette. The nervous inkling in the back of your head was growing louder over the lush warmth, telling you that Winston and Charon would report back to John with their findings.

And you sat back in your chair to come to terms with why you cared. You did like John, but bit your tongue. There was no reason to go forth and ruin something as innocent as a friendship.

Winston chuckled, dropping his hands to the arms of his chair. "Since...he was a young man. Over twenty years, at this point."

You hummed, raising your brows as you looked between the two men across from you. You almost wanted to ask how old John was, the thought making you giggle behind your fingers.

"So a long time, then. Doesn't show for you, Winston." You commented, smirking playfully across the table at the older gentleman.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear," Winston offered, lifting his glass to you and taking another sip.

With that, dinner was served and a plate was placed carefully before you. The seasoned smell of the marsala tickled under your nose and made your stomach engorge with hunger.

The sweet liquor was only making it worse, opening your mouth to drool at the elegant layout of your plate. You glanced over to Gunner, who was fed steak tips on a plate and heartily cleaned his bowl.

Your eyes dragged across the table, to see Charon and Winston staring at you in wait. You smiled politely, allowing the waiter to set a black cloth napkin on your lap before stepping back.

You thanked him, picking up your fork and knife to inspect them a moment before cutting into your chicken. The echo of silverware followed, with Charon and Winston cutting into their food and eating in silence.

You eagerly wanted to call John to talk about this dinner afterwards, but knew it would be better to wait for him to call first.

John sat down to catch his breath, exhausted after yet another night of fighting. Did he enjoy this? Sometimes he had to ask himself, seeing as how he kept going through it. He sat forward in his chair in the lobby, shuddering as adrenaline worked out of his system.

The longer he sat, the more pain that came onset. He winced as he sat back, feeling that he'd bruised a rib from falling through the Roman Continental window with Cassian. John slowly pushed himself up to his feet, approaching the front desk to request his passage home.

He went up to his room, returned back downstairs and awaited in the lobby for the first sign of daylight to make his way to the hotel.

In the meantime, John retrieved his phone and turned it on. When it cycled through, he expected a message from you.

He expected a message from you, especially after dinner. John thought of what awful stories Winston drummed up to entertain you without giving too much away. His top lip peeled back in an embarrassed scowl, already hearing Winston talk about a young Jonathan.

John thought of sending you a message, but thought of the time in New York. He wasn't even sure what he'd say to you. He wanted to ask about dinner.

So he did.

John: How was dinner with the infamous Mr. Scott?

You were escorted back to your hotel room floor as your phone vibrated in your skirt pocket. Gunner rushed up to the door of the hotel room, baring his teeth in a low growl as you stopped to grab your phone.

-Delicious, who knew Winston was such a gossip.

John raised his brows at his phone buzzing again, this time showing Winston calling him.

"Winston," John greeted, sitting back in his chair while his eyes fixated in the direction of the sunrise.

"Jonathan, she's a delightful little sprite. I am not surprised why you're taken with her," Winston offered, carefully taking his stride to the elevator after letting you be excused first.

"I'm sure you've entertained her," John offered, actively ignoring his mentor's comment while his stomach sank.

"She's great at listening, Charon said she was full of questions." Winston looked over his shoulder to his concierge, who shrugged. "Am I off-putting to questions, Jonathan?"

John noised in response, stashing a slight grin. "I wouldn't say that. Maybe Charon is more...approachable in general."

"That is why I hired him," Winston said, pushing the call button for the elevator. "Has she contacted you?"

John scrunched his mouth to keep from reacting, knowing that Winston could hear his lies. "Not yet. I'm sure she's had a long day."

Winston scoffed over the line, stepping into the elevator and motioning for Charon to hit the button for your room first. "I'm sure she has. She seems to fit here, in a sense."

John grit his jaw, stashing the sudden jolt of fear through him. "I'll be home tomorrow."

Winston quickly gave up, nodding at the line. "Bueno notte, Jonathan."

John pulled his phone from his ear and ended the call, receiving your text soon after.

Gunner stood on guard before your front door, nosing at the crack while you waited for Charon to arrive with your key. You stashed your phone again as Gunner wedged himself through the crack of the door then threw it open with a slew of heavy barks.

You ran in after him, narrowly missing a harsh shove from a dark-dressed figure. They attempted to push past you and outside, but you threw a knee out to connect with their gut.

You were a rattled mess as the person fell to the floor, their face covered in a hood and mask. Looking around the room as they tried to crawl away, you grabbed at one of the ornate vases at the entryway and threw it at their head.

Still, they moved and you stamped your foot onto their back as Charon turned the corner with Winston behind. You were frozen, putting more of your weight on the stranger's back as Charon finally assessed the situation and ran to the room.

"My dear, are you alright?" Winston asked, standing aside as Charon picked up the burglar and dragged him out of the room.

You stared fixated after the stranger, your body trembling as your breath was shortened. You heaved, unsure of what you were but aware that you once again could've been hurt.

That if Gunner wasn't around, you would've been attacked. You were stiff, even as Winston touched your arm.

"Come now, let's go downstairs, hmm?" Winston offered.

You barely nodded, feeling your eyes sting with the threat of tears, and Winston guided you to the elevator. Gunner followed suit, leaving Charon to clean up.

John: Let's hope its all good things. I'm leaving first thing in the morning. Let's do lunch.

You sat in the smoking lounge, curled up on the leather couch while Winston offered you a cup of espresso. He'd gone to his office and retrieved a decorative throw blanket to match the rest of the opulent hotel.

He carefully draped the cloth over your legs, allowing you to sit in stunned silence as he sat in the leather chair next to you.

Winston mapped your face, wanting to find the inside of the shock. He wondered if you would question why the person appeared, or for what. But when you gave off nothing, he gave up and sat back as he received a message about John Wick.

Followed by a number, with a lot of zeros. He stashed a gulp, straightening his chin as he glanced over to you again.

"I apologize, my dear, but I urgent business to attend to. Charon will be here with you."

You nodded, bringing the small cup up to your lips for a sip. The instant bitter brought you out of your flight mode, looking after Winston before Charon took his seat before you.

"W-what happened to that person?" you asked, never catching if that person was a man or a woman. You wanted to ask more, but were sure that no answers would help.

Charon sat tall and stiff in his chair. "I phoned the police and they have detained them at the station," he lied, though his face gave no indication.

You shuddered, looking down at your espresso then back. "Did they take anything?"

"No, miss. All of the hotel's belongings are accounted for. I can't say the same for yours, but we can assess that when we change your room."

You knitted your brows in concern. "You're moving me?"

Charon blinked and smiled politely. "If you wish, miss. We would like you to feel safe."

You looked back down, nodded in agreement to his statement. But you didn't feel that the room was tainted, unsure if it was tattered looking for something.

"Is...is the room still intact?" You asked, bringing the espresso cup to your lips again.

Charon nodded once. "It is no detriment to move. It would be the floor below."

The more you thought of it, the dark shadows of your room would be the same on any floor. The new room would only call for the next stranger to slither in. You shook your head.

"No, I'll be fine," you said quickly, setting your cup down as Gunner sighed, resting his head on your thigh. "He'll keep me safe."

Charon glanced to Gunner then back. "He is a good guard dog. He should be employed."

The night went on too long, with you stationed in the smoking lounge to nurse your espresso. Your nerves, despite the coffee, eventually calmed with Gunner finding his temporary bed on the leather couch.

Charon sat with you in silence, allowing you to regain yourself until you were ready. Finally, you patted Gunner's back, waking him then moved to stand.

You threw back Winston's throw on your arm, grabbing your empty espresso cup to return to the bar. Charon took the blanket from you, folding it as he walked you out of the lounge.

He handed off the blanket to the bellhop, leading you and Gunner to the elevator and escorting you upstairs to your room. It hadn't occurred to you how much time had passed, the smoking lounge offering no clock or windows to acknowledge it.

As the three of you ascended, and you found yourself lightening once again the further you got from the ground floor. The trudge back to your room was quiet, with a bellhop stood outside of your door.

"Please let us know of any missing items," Charon offered, holding his hand out for the bellhop to open the door. "If you have any concerns, do not hesitate to alert this kind gentleman."

You glanced to the bellhop, who stood astutely in the corner of the hallway. You looked to Charon and nodded. Charon opened your door and held the door for you to enter, and you took careful steps inside.

The room was untouched, with only the entryway vase missing. You sucked air between your teeth, hoping that John wouldn't be charged for the decoration missing. Charon handed off your room key, letting the door shut after you.

When the door was closed, you kicked off your flats then walked cautiously around the room. Every lamp in the area was turned on, leaving no shadows. You exhaled deeply and sat down on the bed.

You rested on your side, staring over at the bar of the room as Gunner jumped onto the bed behind you. The curtains were pulled to hide the windows, leaving you in the warm glow of the lights.

Slowly, you let the events of the day lull you away to sleep but not without a few startled jolts to double-check the room. Soon, you conceded and drifted off, curling into yourself to keep yourself safe.

You woke up with another jolt at the sudden brightness of the room. The lamps of your room were shut off, the curtains drawn back to show the bustling city and the sun bouncing off of the nearby bridge.

Your eyes curled around the room until you were frozen by the dark dressed figure at the side of your bed. Slowly, your eyes drew up to meet John's scraped face, his hair combed back his ears.

You broke then, rushing up from your place in bed to curl your arms around his neck. You shuddered into his shoulder, your bottom lip pouting as you shut your eyes.

John barely recognized how long he'd been watching you sleep, knowing that it was wrong to do. But he was gauging his next moves.

His attempt had done nothing to keep you safe; his eyes looked around the room, seeing it as a ruined castle. When you hugged him, he was shocked out of his thoughts.

John folded an arm around your waist, holding you against him but not with his full strength. He knew it was better to keep you at an arms' length.

He'd failed you and Gunner, leaving you both in the security of what he imagined as powerful but was now realizing less.

You squeezed closer to him, steadying your breath the more you held on. John shut his eyes to breathe you in, stiffening as he realized his action.

He turned his face into your neck, unable to control himself, and breathed against your skin. Your chest tightened, the warmth of his breath rolling down your body.

Slowly, you turned to meet his cheek, finding your mouth parting in a soft pant. John found himself pulled in further, turning to meet your mouth and lean in to kiss you.

Your hand raked up his neck to clutch the nape of his hair, barely letting the moment be taken as mistake, and kissed him feverishly.

John's hand slid down your back, over your hip to grab the back of your thigh and pull you further into him. His eyes squeezed shut, following the efforts of your lips before taking lead and slipping his tongue in.

You groaned into him, your other hand grabbing at the front of his suit jacket. John pushed down the dull pain in his body, letting all other thoughts take backseat as his lust took over.

Gunner whined, making both of you part in a soft pant. John dragged his eyes from you then to his dog, shaking his head once.

He guided his dog to the front door, opening it to the bellhop. "Would you mind taking him on a walk? I think I've got it from here."

The bellhop nodded, calling after Gunner as John lightly shooed his dog to follow him. After the two were down the hallway, John shut the door and locked it before returning to you.

You thought he'd have regained himself in the moments away, returning to your friendly charade before breaking for brunch. But John resumed at your lips, his hand clutching the back of your thigh before folding you across the bed.

You were overcome with his touch, hazy with the rush. Your hands found their way into his hair, the other at the buckle of his belt as you slowly followed his lead.

John bit back with a hiss, feeling your fingers fumble at his waist. His hand went to cradle your cheek, kiss you deeply, before retracting his hand to grab your wrist.

He slid your fingers further down his waist to acknowledge the urgent swell of his cock. Both of you parted from your kiss in shock; you glanced down your bodies as John stared down at you.

He was approaching an edge he'd never imagined again, his body alight with heat. You shifted up on your side, attempting to roll onto John. However, John's knee shifted onto the floor and turned at the foot of the bed, pulling you onto his lap as he faced the window.

You straddled his waist, your knees on the carpet as you looked down at your hand still rubbing his cock. John stared up at you, his eyes dragging down to acknowledge the open shoulders of your dress.

He carefully reached behind you, unzipping your dress to peel the top of your bodice down, revealing your breasts. You shuddered again, your chest heaving at the sudden cool of the room.

John leaned in to catch your lips again, guiding your hand to undo his belt and pants. The two of you shared a few desperate moans, finding yourselves drawn together.

He freed his cock with a part from your mouth. He attempted to find his words, to ask if this was okay for you two to do. John knew they were careening to something both unavoidable and difficult to walk back from.

You rested your forehead against his, sharing his breaths as you shifted closer. With a lick of your lips, you tasted him on you; you reached under the skirt of your dress, peeling your panties to the side before lining up and sinking down on John's bare cock.

His face was gorgeous as it broke, his brows knitted as his mouth pouted, as if he were about to cry from the feeling. You sighed deeply in his face, your eyes lulling at the slow pop of his hot cock head into your wet pussy.

Your hand found its way into the nape of his hair as you sank down on his length, tilting his head back to ghost your lips before his.

John's tattered knuckles braced your hips, following your direction down onto him. He hissed, letting a moan slip from his lips. Consequences be damned, John thought, rocking your hips into him before ducking his forehead to your shoulder.

You groaned, turning your head back to the ceiling and following his hands rocking you into him. The two of you paused in relief, feeling the heat build between your bodies.

John brought himself back with a peck to your collarbone, then another as he crossed over your chest then down timidly lap at your velvety breasts.

He chastised himself for thinking of squeezing you, hardening his touch and speed on you. John knew that he'd break you eventually, but he'd stave off his darkness for the time being.

You worked up the courage to pull off of his cock, turning to moan into John's ear as you did. You barely made it to his tip, finding your core begging for him again and sinking back down.

John groaned, tilting his head back against the bed to meet your gaze. His dark eyes were dangerous, dark pools yet enriching and inviting. You took hold of his shoulder, working up to a slow ride as you leaned into him.

John trembled, unable to blink as you rode him in the morning light. He was overwhelmed with infatuation, a sickening salacity the more he spent under you.

He was reactive by you, whimpering and twitching as you rode into him, kissed him breathless. John felt that he'd met his match, an unbeatable adversary though he never wanted to cross you.

The sun haloed around your body, making your skin golden in his presence. John came back to you again, hearing your moans heighten as you were brought closer to climax.

You found yourself grinning down at John, seeing his eyes focus back on you. Your hand went to his jaw, then combed through his hair before resting at his neck. "Did I lose you there?"

John spared a blissed-out grin, parting his lips to catch your kiss again. He'd never admit it.

You cried into his mouth, feeling within grasp for your undoing. John hissed and kissed further into you, his other hand reaching under your skirt to touch your clit.

You bent your back into him, panting into his mouth with a cry of his name to follow. You felt the brightness of the room begin to blind you as you approached the edge; your hips rocked a little firmer, trying to pull John overboard with you.

Finally, you broke with a loud moan, twitching on John's cock as he bucked further into you and climaxed. You writhed on him, your fingers clutching hard into the nape of his hair as you tried to catch your breath against his mouth.

"John," you cooed, pushing yourself further into his body to chase his warmth.

He grabbed at your shoulder, attempting to still you over him as your walls begged for his cum. John shut his eyes upon release, snapping back into his conscience and realizing his impulse.

When you regained a bit of yourself, you spared a few amused huffs, pulling upright to meet John's gaze. You watched as his lustful eyes draw back and you combed through his hair.

"Hi," you said, humming at the stoic man against you. "How was your trip?"

John did his best to smile, pulling your elbow in to kiss your bicep. He dragged his lips up to your shoulder and kissed again. "Could've been better."

He didn't want to ask too soon about your night, having already heard from Winston. John knew it was dangerous to return directly to you, but he had to be sure.

And now he knew that wasn't the only reason. The two of you stayed in place for some time, taking in each other. John glanced over your shoulder to the widespread window behind you, noticing a glint from across the roof.

He held you still, staring further as his eyes narrowed on the long barrel of a sniper. John stashed a frown, turning back to you to appreciate you.

He was sickened by himself, seeing you as his shield for the time being. John exhaled, reaching down to tap your butt playfully.

"Why don't we close the curtains, call in some breakfast?" He asked, fighting against his racing heart.

You bit at your bottom lip, slowly pulling off of John's cock with a whine before turning and pushing to your feet. You grabbed the ends of the curtains and pulled them tightly closed.

John deflated against the end of the bed, looking down his battered suit. He was taken aback at how you mounted him in such a disarray.

You reached to unzip the rest of your dress, but was met by John's lips on your shoulder. You shut your eyes, soothed by the warmth of his mouth.

He slipped his hands down your arms, shrugging your dress from your body and leaving you in your panties, bare in the front of the room.

John shrugged off his jacket then circled his arm around your waist to direct you back to bed. "Go on, I'm coming."

You followed his order, climbing onto the bed and peeling the comforter back. John pulled his belt from his pants, did the same for his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and dropping his pants.

He hurriedly undressed, though you never saw any effort. He moved intentionally towards you, resting a knee on the bed then the other as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you back.

You stretched your arms out above your head, finding yourself directly under John. Your faces aligned, his eyes skirting over your face. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tempted at the corner of your mouth.

At the same time, his other hand circled around your stomach then down your hip before sliding his fingers into your wet pussy. You crooned, raising your hips to chase his touch and meet his body.

John kissed your chin, admiring the breaking on your face. He dragged his fingers in and out of you slowly, tracking every minute pinch and wain of your face.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, finding his words to not be his own.

John felt detached from himself, swirling a dark abyss of desire he hadn't thought of for a long time. You grabbed onto John's bicep, sucking in a breath between your teeth before moaning when his thumb folded against your clit.

"J-John," you stammered, your fingers clutching tighter as you found yourself fighting off another climax.

It was too late when you realized the bruises on his body, the wounds decorating his lean torso. Your mouth gaped with another croon, squeezing your eyes shut suddenly as you came on his fingers.

Warm rushes wracked through your body, causing you to roll further into John while you fought off the sight of his body being your undoing.

John's thumb at the corner of your mouth peeled back your bottom lip, flattening his finger along your gums. You pulled his hand further into your mouth to sensually suck at it before dragging it along your bottom teeth.

John was pulled further, the look in your eyes along with the feeling of your pussy around his fingers making it difficult to find pause. You licked the tip of John's thumb, dragged it down your body as he trailed his eyes after it.

His stomach sank then, his hand paused and flattened between your breasts. Staring back at him, as he felt your heart thrumming under his touch, was his wedding ring.

John's hand began to shake, staring at its placement against your body. You stared up at him, seeing that he was no longer meeting your eyes and was fixated at the placement of his hand.

He felt the room go askew, finding himself getting yanked out the abyss and washed ashore. John half-blinked, pulling his fingers out of you before climbing off of the bed and walking away to the shower.

You sat up on your elbow in John's wake, turning your head to watch him walk away. "John?"

You were unsure of what you did, if anything. But now, you were left bare. Righting yourself on the edge of the bed, you slowly followed after John into the bathroom.

John set his ring on the bathroom counter as he reached around the glass wall to turn on the shower head. He welcomed the silence for a moment, wanting to sieve through his thoughts as tangled as they were.

Stepping under the spray, John sighed and dropped his shoulders. He let the warm water roll over his body, drip down his hair as his muscles began to relax.

You stood at the door of the bathroom, watching John in silence before stepping up to the shower wall.

"Can I join you?" You asked softly, not looking up at him as if you'd done something wrong.

John waited a beat, shutting his eyes as he nodded under the rainfall spray. "Yeah."

You peeled your panties to the floor then stepped out of them and into the shower. You let the warm water dampen your hair, letting you slick it down between your shoulders as you turned your back to John.

The two of you shared the shower as if you were strangers still, the air palpable and dewy.

John raised his head and slicked his hair back, glancing over his shoulder to you. You wrung out your hair, turning under your arm to look at John and taking in his back tattoo.

You were taken in, turning around slowly to drag your eyes along his full back tattoo. You reached a finger out to touch at the center cross behind prayer hands.

John stiffened at your touch, his eyes overly blinking from the weight of the water on his lashes. You traced your finger around, noting the words between his shoulders without understanding what it meant.

"I was married before," John offered in the silent patter of the shower.

It was the least of what he wanted to say, his want for you and his feeling for his wife leaving him suspended in telling the truth. John swallowed, dropping his head to his side as you paused at bruise on his love handle.

"I still wear my wedding ring..." he admitted, his chest shaking for a moment, "it hurt to look at."

You paused dropping your head against his shoulder as your hand circled his side. "I'm sorry. You should've stopped me."

John straightened up then, turning around to face you. His tattered hands cradled your face, searching your eyes for an ounce of disdain towards him.

"I didn't want to stop..." John whispered, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. "I...don't want to stop."

You let your eyebrows screw up in confusion, wanting to know what this stranger wanted. Because with learning more about him, you remembered again that he was a stranger.

"I want you," he muttered against your lips, tilting your chin to peck your lips, "to make it stop hurting."

Your heart lurched into John, feeling that he was saying it wrong but not wanting to dwell on it. You let your attraction give him leeway, letting him take your mouth again and soothe away your doubts in an instant.

You bowed into him, quavering as his hands slipped down your neck, then shoulders and elbows; he took in the slippery feel of your skin, admired how you molded into him this way.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, circling his fingers down to your hips and around the small of your back. John felt the swirl draw him back in, the taste of your mouth sickly sweet.

He bit away from you, hissing between his teeth as he tried to dampen the muddy thoughts within him.

You held your hands at John's sides, opening your eyes to witness the turmoil on his face. Your own stomach turned, lifting on your toes to kiss him again.

John nipped your bottom lip, pulling back on his hold to turn you around to the shower wall. He felt his vision tunnel on you, dragging his hand down between your legs to greet your pussy with his wet fingers.

Your nipples graced the cold granite of the shower wall, bracing with a soft gasp before John's fingers slipped into you. You rested your forehead against the granite, unable to hold back the moan lodged in your throat.

Your shoulders worked back, spreading your legs to allow John's touch further. John flattened his hand on the granite next to your face, lining himself up behind you.

He pulled his fingers out, using his hand to stroke his strained cock. John bowed his head, guiding his length into you and groaning at the welcoming warmth of your walls.

His hand went to your hip, gripping you tightly as he attempted to level himself. Your nose smushed against the granite, your mouth gaped open as you panted against the hard shower wall.

Your hand reached back to touch John but he took your hand and crossed it behind your back. He pumped into you once, earning another noise from you.

When he withdrew, your walls begged at his return; he pumped in again, making your knees buckle slightly.

John bent forward, kissing at the back of your neck before nipping at your shoulder. You turned, squishing your cheek against the wall to watch John's lips migrate down your back.

Your other arm folded directly before your chest, allowing the dampened air to coagulate in your lungs. John was slow in his pace, metering his noise to hear you echo against the stone walls.

His free hand reached around to ghost his fingers over your clit, allowing himself to get lost in the clench of your walls. John's lips trailed over the back of your shoulders, baring his teeth to nip at your skin.

He was painfully aware of how much he wanted to hoard you, to keep you stashed in this room with him with no end in sight. John knew he'd be able to to protect you alone for how ever long you wanted to stay with him.

The closer you got your climax, the more John became infatuated. Every moan of his name, he was dragged further into you, ready to use his resilience for whatever means to please you.

He pulled you off of the wall, draping your body against his chest; John's hands slipped over your wet body, pushing you further into him as you finally came on his throbbing cock again.

John lost his control, ducking his face into your neck to mutter his praise.

You rested your head on John's lap, staring across the bed at the breakfast tray by his feet. You tried to make yourself small in his dress shirt, wanting to take up as much of his warmth as possible.

Brunch had encroached into lunch, the Continental eggs Benedict turned into a nice club sandwich and fries.

John wanted to remain in the solace of the room a bit longer, knowing that he'd have to leave and face his consequences. As long as you didn't have to, John would task himself to clean up his mess better than before just so you wouldn't suffer.

He folded the newspaper in his hands around to scan the inside pages as Gunner sniffed in the direction of John's abandoned club.

You reached out to grab a few fries from John's plate, dragging them across the white comforter for Gunner to take.

John flipped to the next page, disinterested in the sports section. "I saw that."

You side-eyed Gunner then glanced up at John. "No you didn't."

John shook his head, eyes lazily dragging over the fine print of the newspaper. He looked so comfortable in this state, how you imagined he spent his Sunday afternoons at home.

"How long were you married?" You asked, feeling the comfortable silence grind to a screeching halt. It had plagued you since he mentioned it and no matter how many times John made you cum to keep you quiet, the question still remained.

John's eyes glanced down at you, his face never moving from the direction of his newspaper. His chest tightened at the question, feeling his ring finger pulse when you asked.

He relaxed his shoulders, folding his newspaper haphazardly before resting his hand on your shoulder. You shifted in bed, propping your chin up on the tops of your folded arms; John's hand migrated to the middle of your back, admiring how good you looked in his dress shirt.

He praised the tailor's choice for a dark shirt, hiding the blood staina better. John thought of how dangerous his hand was, how many men he'd taken down with just them. And he was tenderly rubbing your back.

"Five years," he said after a few beats of quiet. John set the newspaper on his lap, holding it there with his hand.

You raised your head, shifting closer to John. The two of you were past the formality of tiptoeing hard subjects, you felt. At this point, you knew that there was two possibilities of this ending: in bitter tragedy or a new beginning for the both of you.

So you asked: "What's her name?"

"Helen," John said, turning his full face to you. He decided to get ahead of your line of questioning, to explain how you were both here now. "She died earlier this year. She told me..."

He was cinched then, imagining her handwriting on Daisy's kennel. John felt the pain bubble up again, seeing his wrongs. "That I needed to love something more than my car."

He chuckled mirthlessly, hiding a gulp that lodged in his throat at his last word. Your brows raised slightly, sitting up on your elbow.

You two were there yet and, while you knew that to be true, you wanted to get there. Hopefully, one day.

"That's why I got Gunner," John added, seeing your reaction and realizing another mistake.

The two of you let the collective sigh alleviate the room, allowing you back down to rest your head on John's thigh.

"I'm sorry for your loss," you offered, reaching your hand out to tenderly caress his bruised side.

John nodded, resuming his hand on your back. The two of you returned to your previous action, your eyes lulling with the temptation of sleep.

The questions were hard to wade through; John understood that if you were going to be around in the dark pond, you would soon learn about the very facade he put forth.

He cleared his throat, ready to admit his hard truths that he left behind; it would be easier for the both of you to leave the Underworld unscathed.

John's phone vibrated from the nightstand and he was tempted to silence it. The precarious bubble surrounding the three of you was already threatened, and John didn't want a call to break the tender surface.

He picked it up, realizing that it was a message from an unknown number. John stared at it, seeing that it was an attachment but made no moves to unlock his phone.

You heard your phone begin to vibrate, somewhere discarded in your dress skirt pocket. You groaned, rolling your head back and forth on your hands with the attempt to convince yourself that it was a text.

But then your ringtone began to chime. John heard it too, turning his head in the direction of it. His hand became heavier on your back, attempting to keep you in place.

"Hold that thought," you said, sitting up to kiss John before climbing out of bed.

John's eyes were trained on you, watching as you pulled his shirt to its full length, barely covering your bare ass. He watched intently as you bent, searching through your dress to find the offending phone.

You stood up, rolled your eyes at the Caller ID and answered to your coworker. "What's up?"

Her voice on the other end was slightly shaken, telling you that there was a puppy brought in that was hit by a car.

"I-I can't deal with putting him down, can you come in?"

You glanced over your shoulder to John and Gunner, both of them enough reason to stay in bed. John sat back again the headboard, draping his arm over it with the invitation for you to return to his side.

You groaned in annoyance, bouncing on one foot in the slightest of tantrums. "Can't you call someone else?"

"I-I tried, but one of them is at a Communion and the other is out of town."

You pouted, knowing that you being the single one in a vet clinic meant that you were left to do the dirtiest of work.

"I guess....I can be there within the hour." You forfeited, turned to John as you said it.

And just like that, John's bubble burst.

"You didn't have to drive me here," you said as you and John sat a red light.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, reaching over to rest his hand on your knee.

You scoffed, turning to John. "Because I know you've got to be tired from your travel. I could've gotten Charon to bring me."

You were appreciative of John driving you on such short notice, but you wanted to give him a little space. It still felt too fresh, whatever you had, and you didn't want to impose so much that he ended up pushing you away.

"Please, I'm a faster driver," John said with a grin as the light turned green. He let his foot of the brake, tempting his gas pedal as he tilted his head at you. "And I don't want you depending on Charon when I'm around."

You smiled, reaching over to touch the back of John's neck. You could get used to touching him, running your fingers through his hair or scratching his beard. But you were getting ahead of yourself.

"Thanks," you offered softly just as John pulled up on the curb in front of the clinic. "I'll call you when I'm done?"

John nodded, leaning into your hold as you kissed him. "Maybe we can do dinner?"

You laughed. "Hopefully it won't be that long, but we'll see."

You kissed him again, then a third time before you hummed against his lips knowing that you were on an urgent timeline. "Okay, okay. I'll see you in a bit."

You threw open your door and got out, carefully shutting the door of John's car. He bent across the center, offering a wave to you as you opened the door to the clinic and looked back a final time.

He watched you walk in, though his stomach dropped as the door shut behind you. Something felt wrong and his proven instinct was off.

John's phone buzzed again in his pants pocket and he geared his car to retrieve it. Another attachment sent by the unknown number, this time with a message to follow.

Unknown: Come out, John. We have something you want.

You looked around the clinic, seeing most of the offices shut down for the weekend but the light in the exam room on. You called after your coworker, flipping on the overhead lights in the lobby.

When you got no answer, you looked over your desk for paperwork then started towards the back room.

John reluctantly opened the message thread from the unknown number, his heart clenching at the first photo. Of you and him, from the view of the window earlier that morning.

Though you looked so beautiful on his lap, your dress exposing down your back in the morning light, John was chilled at the angle. The same position of the sniper that morning.

He looked after you, seeing that you'd disappeared further into the clinic, then went to the second photo. You, through the view of a porthole window, wearing the clothes you'd changed into. He noticed his own car from the glass door.

John shut off his car and threw his door open, haphazardly closing it before running after you into the clinic. He tapped his side, acknowledging his gun stashed in his waistband and drew it when he was inside.

He called after you, hearing no answer as he looked around the sterile, quiet clinic. John straightened up, holding his gun out as he continued stepping cautiously.

"Hello John," a voice responded from the double doors into the surgery room. "You've been a hard man to track down."

John grit his teeth hard enough to hear his jaw resound. His nostrils flared as he tried to level himself, knowing that he had to keep a strong front.

"I thought 7 million would've made you an easy target, but you're a smart man to hide."

"I wasn't hiding," John retorted, not allowing the comment to show him a coward.

He stepped up to the wall, trying to see into the bright room. John caught a glimpse of you, petrified against Santino's shoulder as his hand grasped your mouth.

You stared, bewildered through the small porthole window, catching a glimpse of John's face. You barely shook your head at him as Santino raised his gun to shoot out at the glass.

"Right," Santino continued, pointing the gun to your temple and making you panic, crying at the thought of his finger slipping. "You had gotten distracted. Which is dangerous in your line of work, you know that."

You gulped, quivering in the hostile man's hold. John righted himself against the wall, popping the clip to check his ammo. He took another careful breath, turning back in the direction of the window before ducking across to the other side.

"You could've tried getting out again, but you'd just end up owing somebody...again," Santino taunted, playfully tilting his gun about as he thought of it. "And then when the next wife dies along with the next sad pup, the cycle of John Wick would continue."

You whimpered, looking out and darting your eyes back and forth to find John anywhere. John couldn't find an answer, thinking more about what he was putting you through and what it would mean for him to stop.

If he could stop.

He didn't want to admit it, but Santino was right in a sense. John didn't want to keep owing people for the life he'd been luck to have once.

He especially didn't want to do it twice. Not that you weren't worth it. But danger seemed to lurk whether he was in or out.

"It wouldn't happen again," John said finally, after thinking for a moment. "I wouldn't let anything bad happen to her."

Santino tsked, turning the gun back to your head. "It's a little late for that. Look at where we are now."

John shut his eyes, coming to terms with his consequences once again. He carefully put the safety back on his gun and held it to his side.

"Fine," John said, pushing open the double doors. You cried from behind Santino's hand, incoherently begging for John to do anything else. "You're right."

Santino huffed amusedly through his nose then looked down at you. "You need something done, you do it yourself, eh?"

Santino turned the gun onto John, readying to shoot as you noticed the reflection of his pistol in something on the stainless steel table.

Looking down, you noticed a full syringe of clear liquid. You flicked your eyes back to John as he saw your eyes look away.

He barely nodded in your direction as Santino pulled back the hammer of his gun and readied to shoot John. "No hard feelings, John. Just avenging my sister."

At the same time, you felt his arm loosen around you and you took the opportunity to grab the syringe and stab it into Santino's neck.

Your fingers fumbled at the plunger, slowly dispensing half of the clear liquid into his blood stream. Santino grabbed the syringe with his free hand, taking his other to smack you away.

"Stupid bitch! This is men's business," Santino turned the gun on you and John called for his attention.

"Hey! You want to kill me. So kill me," John offered, raising his hands.

Santino narrowed his eyes at John, looking from him to you and back. "You're not...even going to try to beg me?"

John shook his head; you kicked at Santino's ankle, causing him to stumble then crawled after him to grab the syringe again. This time you righted yourself over Santino's body and stabbed the needle into his chest.

You hyperventilated, staring at the man as his eyes widened in fear. You trembled again with the plunger, releasing more liquid into his chest.

Looking over to John, you hoped he would find the words you couldn't. You didn't even understand what this was about, but you were caught in the middle of it.

John met your gaze, feeling his hands going cold at the thought of you getting hurt. The decision was still so muddy, but he was aware of where to start.

"Call it off," John said, reaching to grab Santino's gun and point it at the man. "Call the bounty off."

You turned back to the man, his hair wild as his eyes were twitching in disdain. "Why should I? You gonna kill me too?"

You stared at the plunger in his chest, your thumb on the weapon. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing your coworker dead in her puddle of blood along with the dog that Santino brought in to bait her.

"T-this is pentobarbital," you bluffed, nodding to the syringe in the man's chest. "There was enough in this syringe to kill you twice. But I've on-ly used ha-lf."

Your voice betrayed you in a moment, but you stared at this man under you as if he'd wronged you personally. And he kinda did. He ruined an almost idyllic morning by running egotistical games.

John withheld his surprise, glancing at your profile while you reasoned with this stranger.

"Call it off, and I can undo it," you lied, unsure if you could make such a promise.

"Bullshit," Santino spat at you, looking over to John. However, by the stone-cold look on John's face, he was inclined to believe you.

You straightened up and looked down your nose at this man, floundering to be let up but realizing a lack of options. Your cold thumb tempted at the plunger further.

"Y-you would feel it in your knees first. A dull pain that washes away when you can't feel your legs." You tried to narrate, reluctantly mapping out the process when you so wanted to forget it in pets.

"Your heart will start rushing soon, hoping to pump enough blood to circulate down to your toes, but then your fingers will lose feeling."

Santino gulped and you barely glanced to John as your brows knitted and your eyes watered. "Let's get your phone out before we get to that, because there's no turning back from there."

John watched in stunned silence, holding the gun pointed at Santino for any sudden movements towards you. Santino did as instructed, pulling his phone and typing in his code.

He dialed the number slowly, staring at you strong-handing the syringe. When it rang, he glanced over to John, unfazed.

"Pull the bounty for John WIck." He stated when he got on the phone. "Yes. Santino D'Antonio. 758042."

"Yes sir," the operator on the opposite end stated. The line was quiet for a moment and you held your breath. "Your bounty is rescinded. Is there anything else--"

You smacked the phone away from Santino before he could say anything else then leaned back for John to take the shot. He blinked in the flash moment, then aimed and shot Santino.

The splatter of his blood from his head decorated your face and you were sat in the shocked silence of the past few moments. Santino's dark phone lit up with a message.

Unknown: Bounty: John Wick rescinded. Disregard previous messages of subject.

You let go of the syringe, looking down at your cool trembling hands before you felt a pair of thick arms curl around you. John wasn't sure what else to do in the moment, knowing that nothing he could say would make up for it.

He pulled you up, held you close and swiped the blood from your cheeks. John rested his lips to the top of your head and kept you still when you tried to tremble.

He expected you to cry, ready to coax you down, but you were silent. Grasping at his shirt, you turned your face into him and held tight. Your breath slowly returned to normal, shutting your eyes to rid yourself of the sight of your coworker dead. This strange man dead.

John knew that what came next wouldn't be easy and he was dreading every minute of it.

You sat in the car with John as an unmarked black van pulled up in front of the clinic. Looking over at him, you expected John to get out but he only nodded in the direction of the clinic as the older gentleman stepped out of driver's side.

Without word, the man nodded and patted at the back doors of the unmarked van; the double doors opened and you jumped slightly at the men that followed out. Each of them was dressed in dark clothing, two of them holding mops and buckets while the final two carried unmarked bags into your place of work.

Slowly you turned to look at John, hoping for some sort of explanation. John watched as you did, his face frozen in the sense of unknowing where to start. So he tried going for simple.

"I'm a contractor," he said, turning his body to face yours. "I do freelance work for anyone who pays me and I do most of my work out of the Continental."

You gulped, your eyebrows knitting in concern. "S-so Winston and Charon are..."

"They know about my work and aid me in doing so."

You raised your shocked brows even further, unsure of what contortion your face was in at the moment. "Oh, okay."

Though it was not okay.

You had dinner with assassins, or contractors as John explained it. You fucked a contract killer.

You fucked a contract killer. You gulped, the thought giving you butterflies.

"So you're not like...an assassin that kills for fun?"

John raised a brow in question then shook his head. "Only bad people, and people who've forgotten that they're bad."

Your face flattened a little, ready to ask your next question as you remembered the stranger in the hotel room. "I'm not being targeted, am I?"

John slowly reached for you, taking tender hold of the side of your throat as he leaned in. "No. And this is not a long con. Meeting you was just coincidence. I just...dragged you into my darkness. And I'm sorry."

Your bottom lip trembled, staring into John's dark eyes and seeing them melt with his sincerity.

"I like you," he began, his chest tightening at the confession. He'd slain 200 men in a single night, he'd killed an extra 100 to avenge his dog, but here was when he felt nerves. "I want you to stick around. If you want."

You instinctively reached for him, pressing your lips to his. He lost his breath, putting his other hand to the opposite side of your neck to hold you close.

When you'd had your fill, you parted from him with a trembling sigh.

"Is that a 'yes'?" John asked, rubbing his thumbs before your ears.

You smiled nervously, taking hold of John's wrists to keep him there and nodded. John smirked softly, wondering what was going on in your head in that moment.

"You'll keep me safe, right?" You teased, though you wanted the reassurance.

John nodded.

He let his hands drop and you took hold of them. "I'm guessing you're gonna stay in this line of work a bit longer?"

He tried to keep his face neutral, though it loomed overhead as the next big step. Slowly he nodded and watched your body deflate upon doing so.

"Just a little longer," John said, leaning forward. "I've got a month saved up at the Continental and I'd like to use my points before they expire."

You broke with an amused scoff, turning away from John's face trying to hold back from smiling. You rolled your eyes at him, feeling this as a new beginning for the both of you.

"And it's got your name written right beside it," John added, tilting his head. "I know that room service has been calling your name."

You laughed then, barely sparing a glance to the men as they returned to their van. "It'd give me time to look for a new job."

You didn't want to bring it down, but the reality encroached again. John grabbed your hands and pulled them in to kiss your knuckles.

"We can figure it out together," John said, rubbing his thumbs over your hands.

His darkness paired well with yours, he saw. John only witnessed a glimpse of it, but it would do well if his month stay turned into two. Or five.

Depending on how much trouble he got into. You bit your lip, staring down at your hands intertwined with one another.

"Did you...hurt his sister?" You asked, letting the words spill out before you could stop them.

John was still for a moment, taking in a steady breath. "I made a blood oath before I got out that he'd be able to hold over my head if I ever came back. He used that promise to kill his sister."

Your face scrunched up slightly. "That's so vile."

"Yeah," John said, running his thumb over your knuckles as if measuring each one in size.

You raised your gaze to meet his. "And he crossed you even after that?"

John nodded, letting you get accustomed to whatever this new beginning was starting from. You looked down again, sorting through your biggest thoughts by importance.

"T-there was a person that broke into..." you mindlessly thumbed over your shoulder, remembering the long night you'd had before this one.

"They were trying to gain the bounty." John said, staring after you as if he was losing you to your own personal spiral.

"Charon said he contacted the police." You snapped up to look at John again and he bit back a smile at your concern.

Your eyes were watering again, this time your bottom lip ready to pout from your teeth. He reached up and coaxed a tear away with his thumb.

"No contractor business is allowed on Continental grounds," he tried to offer as solace but knew that the next part would jar you. "It's an excommunication rule."

You stared at him, hoping that he would explain further.

"The consequence is death," John offered as solace. "It's a safe place. That's why I wanted you to stay there."

You dryly scoffed at him, turning into his palm. "You were trying to keep me safe?"

John nodded. "I saw how shaken you were that night when I picked you up. I wanted to look out for you."

You pursed your lips. "Were Charon and Winston looking out for me too?"

John's lip curled slightly. "Charon, yes. Winston as you've said, loves to gossip. The man can't help but know every detail."

You tilted your head against the seat cushion, pinning John's hand against your cheek. "Did you tell him about me?"

It felt wrong to ask in such a situation, but there was no doubt that your meet-cute with a contract killer was fucked up.

John hid a roll of his eyes, his cheeks raising though he lined his lips together. "I told him enough. He called you...my Persephone."

You reached for his hand, shifting it down for his thumb to brace your lips. You blinked, narrowing your eyes at him. "He's funny. I guess this is kind of like the Underworld. Contractors and blood oaths, sacred hotels and clean-up crews."

John raised his brows at you. "Still okay with staying?"

Your stomach, for the first time in the past few days, felt realigned with steel. Though hostage situations were something you never wanted to get used to.

You raised your left hand, pointing your pinkie out. "If you promise me something."

John's lips pouted to the side, never eager to hear about promises in his line of work. He slowly raised his left hand and pointed out his pinkie, waiting to hear what you had to offer.

"Name it."

"You promise to keep me safe if I need it, you can't dump me during a mission and you teach me how to shoot a gun."

John's brows quirked then, his mouth a wormy squiggle to withhold his amusement. He nodded, reaching his large pinkie out to hook around yours. "Deal."

"And..." you added, just as you hooked your finger around his and held him there. "We get dessert in bed and Gunner gets a plate of fries. Also I want to go with you once on a mission."

John's mouth scrunched up under his nose, his cheeks bottling his want to laugh. It felt good to have that still within him.

"I promise."

"Also," you continued, biting your bottom lip. "You help me move out of my apartment."

John chuckled, pointing his finger at you from his interlocked hand. "Now that's too far."

"Said the contract killer," you jested.

John metered his nod back and forth with another soft laugh. "Okay, fine. Also, you don't have to tell me not to dump you."

The two of you stayed locked in your pinky promise as John looked from it to you.

"Promise me something."

"Shoot," you said, scrunching your nose at the poor choice of word.

"You let me know if it gets to be too much. If you want out at any time, I will let you out. I don't want to keep you where you don't want to be."

You hummed, softly smiling at this man. You wanted to stick around for a while, even longer than that. But you didn't want to tell him so.

Even though you were sure this man was the opposite of squeamish. Nothing like boys you'd dated previously.

"Okay."

"And..." John drew out like you had, pursing his lips in soft thought. "I want a full day in bed, with you. Gunner'll have to stay with Charon."

You giggled softly. "Okay," you said, shaking your head in John's direction. "I promise."

The two of you solidified your pinky promise with another soft kiss; John let his hands untangle from you as he felt his ring finger pulse again.

He paused, looking down at his hands and circled his ring on his finger.

You slowly came down from the adrenaline and mushiness spilled and stared at John fiddling with his ring.

"If it's too soon for you..." you tried, but John shut it down with putting his ring hand on the steering wheel.

"I'll be fine," he said with a sigh, aware of when he'd take it off.

It wouldn't be for a while, and he should've asked if it was alright with you. You didn't even notice it, feeling that it was just a part of him.

"So was it pentobarbital in that bottle?" He asked curiously, starting the car and gearing it into drive.

You reached for your seatbelt, glancing out of your window at the vet clinic then buckled yourself in.

"I don't think it was," you said geniunely, unsure if it'd make a difference.

John turned his car into the underground parking garage and circled the top level to find a space. The two of you were going over John's excursion in Rome, why he was really there and what he had to go through to get home.

"That's so fucked up," you offered, unable to create any other cohesive thought.

John shrugged, which gave you the note that this was a normal thing that happened sometimes.

You leaned in, intrigued to learn more about this other half of John. There was John Wick, the mild-mannered dog dad that fucked so hard that you shivering at the thought.

Then there was John Wick, the contract killer who took down a mafia of men in the time it took for you to have dinner with Winston.

"What do they call you?" You asked after John geared his car into park then shut it off.

John raised his brows, glancing over at you. "Don't laugh."

You straightened up in your seat, mimicking a zip of your lips closed before nodding at him to continue. John smirked and undid his seatbelt.

"Baba Yaga," he offered, awaiting your eventual snicker.

But you were perplexed, staring at him. "What is that?"

He blinked once, turning to you fully. "The Boogeyman."

You stared at him, knowing that there was no doubt in your mind that while you feared this man just a little bit, you were attracted to him more.

You looked around the desolate parking lot then back at John. "Anything else?"

"The Wolf, The Devil..." John added, unsure if those names were even true but wanting to amuse you.

You leaned over to John and exhaled a trembling breath. "Is it wrong of me..."

You couldn't finish that sentence aloud, knowing that it was a bit twisted to want him more. The man had just shot another man in front of you...and yet...

You caught John's mouth in a fervent kiss, edging your knee over the center console to sit in his lap. John was surprised, making such a noise as his hands held your hips.

You blindly reached between his seat and the door, finding the handle to recline the two of you back.

John groaned at the sudden movement, but didn't break from you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back and held you tighter against him, allowing you to roll your body against him.

"I-I'm sorry," You offered, parting from him with smaller pecks to follow. "I don't know what came over me."

John looked at you from behind his half-mast eyelids, taking in your trembling chest and legs spread over him. The image of you that morning flashed by again, trying to hide the other twisted side of it.

"Let's go upstairs," he added, his voice hitting a new low.

You felt your body cinch at his utterance, reminding yourself of the euphoric kisses and bites that would come from it.

You nodded, reaching for the driver's side door and climbing out. John attempted to regain himself, righting his seat before grabbing his keys and climbing out.

You didn't expect this place to become a sanctuary to you. The dark foreboding walls, something echoing to the Asphodel, was not inviting like you'd seen most places.

The marble floors, the sharp edges, the posh guests, all of them were out of your wheelhouse of comfort. But you were relieved to enter the lobby of the Continental.

It felt like it held a new charm, one that you prayed never left. You were awash with a sense of security, taking John's hand and leading him to the elevator.

You pinned him against the wall, nudging your nose with his before tempting him with a kiss. He leered after you, his eyes fluttering close with the thought of tasting your lips again.

You nipped at his nose instead, bringing your fingers up to scratch through his beard.

When the two of you made it back to your floor, you grabbed John's hand and started towards your door. At one point, John's arm circled around your waist and he lifted you into him, carrying you to the room.

The two of you stopped at the door, with you fumbling to take the key from John and open the door. You felt his breath over your shoulder, his hands already making their way down the front of your pants.

You shook your head alert, finally making the key open the door and clambering in with John hot on your tail.

You barely made it to get your shoes off before John expertly undid your pants and tugged them down. You bowed onto the bed, readily hiding your shame at how wet you were.

John pulled your pants down to your ankles, then off before turning you onto your back. He took your knee, pulling your legs open and stashing a hard gulp at the sight.

He had no words to say, knowing that the truth would be squeezed out of him soon enough. He reached for his own belt, undoing his pants and freeing his stiffened cock.

You looked down at the comparison, his cock flush against your stomach. You whimpered as he drew himself back, pushing his cock head against your clit before letting it slip over your stomach again.

You threw your head back in frustration, knowing that you wouldn't last long being teased. John watched like an instinctual predator, waiting for his best strike.

His bare hand went to rest at your chest, feeling your racing heart beat hard. John pulled back again, rutted his cock against your clit then let it slide, gathering your wet and streaking your belly.

You whined again, drawing your knees up from the edge of the bed. "John, please."

He would savor every time your lips formed his name; he tilted his head back, soaking it in to puff up his chest when he was normally without flaunting an ego.

John dropped his head again, glaring darkly at you from under his brows. He rutted a third time, earning your writhing. Your head turned back and forth on the comforter, your fingers reaching out for him but never grasping onto him.

"C-c'mon," you hiccuped, finding yourself a disheveled mess. You were flustered and growing on embarrassed, as if John was showing off how turned on you were by him.

By what he did.

By what he did for you.

You gulped, tightening your stomach as you watched him rut a final time; this time he went back and pressed his cock at your entrance, making you drop your head in relief when he slid into you.

John's hand at your chest dropped down to your stomach, leveling your core to feel every inch of him. You practically vibrated upon the new sensation, finding yourself drawn closer to a peak you weren't even acknowledging.

John took his hands away from you to run them under your shirt; he tenderly shrugged your top from over your chin, blinding you the cotton as his cock thrusted into you harshly.

You lost your breath, gasping when he shrugged your shirt over your head and up your arms before pausing there. He flattened himself against you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth with a tender suck.

His fingers threaded through yours, tangling both of you in the cuffs of your shirt until he finally pulled it off of you. John did his with pulling away from you and reaching between his shoulders to rip his shirt over his head.

The cream top yanked up to reveal the yellowing and purple bruises along John's sides, ones you knew now to be wounds for his effort. He went above and beyond in his work, it showed deeply.

John tossed his shirt away, returning over you to feel your chest rise and fall against his. He wanted to undo you further, have you bare to him in the physical and vulnerable sense, but he didn't want to throw off his pace.

You keened when he hit a particularly soft spot within you and he recognized it as your second weakness. John licked his fingers and dove them between the two of you, finding your clit with expert precision and circling it.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, wanting to hook into him if he was going to keep on. Your pants heightened against his mouth, drawing more moans from you as his other hand peeled your leg back to your side.

You broke another inch, your eyes crossing as you glanced to the ceiling. John took it in stride, using his lips to level his chin and meet your eyes. "Did I lose you there?"

Your face scrunched in pleasure, just as your chest tightened with the threat of explosion. "You are the Devil."

He chuckled mirthlessly against your lips, taking them in another kiss as he continued his pace. The two of you found yourselves drawing further up in pleasure, finding the heat culminated between you two enough of a catalyst for you both to cum.

You were first, your mouth falling open in the moans of John's name. Your walls beckoned him further, stunting his thrusts from going too deep before he finally succumbed to your heat.

He rested his elbow next to your head, groaning and hissing in pleasure. The two of you shared your caught breaths, staring at one another in the dim light of the room.

You prodded your tongue to your bottom lip, your eyes raking up and down John's body. He did the same, though he paused at your neck and dove in to kiss you there.

You shied away, raising your shoulder to giggle at his warm breath wafting down your neck. He liked that sound, he wanted to hear more of that.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Okay, I'm back at it with another attempt to help the people who want to find ship fic for a character and don't really mind who that character is shipped with.

Up til this point, I've been focused on trying to find a way to identify all the fics that ship a particular character. This time around, I want to remove all of the fics that don't ship them while keeping the ones that do have them as a main character in the fic.

This is imperfect, but it's netted much better results!

Go to that character's tag. You can do this by tapping on their tag at the top of a fic, for example. I experimented with a few characters for this, but here's the tag for Darcy Lewis MCU

Once you're on that character's tag, open up the Filters menu by tapping on the button labelled Filters. If you're on a computer, the Filters menu is already on the right-hand side of the screen.

In the Exclude section, tap on the word Categories and tap on the X next to Gen. You can also X out any ship configurations you aren't interested in reading today.

Keep scrolling down towards the bottom of the Filters menu and stop when you reach the Search Within Results box. In that box, type summary: Darcy (or whatever name your fave is most often referred to by). If they have more than one name that people call them, use summary: Darcy OR summary: "other name". If the name is more than one word, put the name in quotation marks to keep those words together in the search.

Press the Search & Filter button and enjoy the results!

This method took the tag results down from over 21K fics to just over 7.5K fics. It included ones that seemed romantic/sexual but used the & indicator when they probably should have used /.

It also includes fics that didn't indicate which category they belong to.

You can narrow your results further by excluding other items. For example, if you're in the mood for smut, you can exclude the G and T rated fics and get your list down to about 3.4K (in this example).

You could also do the opposite if you want something shippy that isn't sex by excluding the M and E fics instead. And don't forget that you can exclude fics that use specific Archive Warnings as well.

[homelanderbutbig]

YOU ARE AN ANGEL. I love love LOOOOOVE the way you write fluff, this is so goddamn precious. Homelander palming the reader's face, that is peak adorable!!! Thank you for taking the time to write this stupid little prompt and continuing to spread big Homie propaganda. 😭💖🫂

Also this man has such pretty hands, they deserve to be studied and smooched.

Lmao, let me slide you a short request. >:)

Big Homie cuddling on the couch with the reader, and he doesn't got his gloves on so the reader gets to explore his big hands. ❤️

one order of big homie with extra fluff coming up <3 love you bud, i'm sorry this took so long but i hope it's what the doctor ordered

Down time with him was always the sweetest thing in the world.

Your favorite was the way he held you.  Standing at eight feet tall, Homelander was the perfect size to practically engulf you in his hold.  Throw into the mix the padding of his suit and, well… 

The world’s greatest superhero was also the world’s coziest pillow.

More often than not, that role belonged to you. His head on your lap, your fingers combing through his hair, his eyes shut and a contented smile on his face… That was the norm, but sometimes your spoiled boy would return the favor.  Just like now.

The TV plays in the background– some Vought film or another– but your attention is strictly on him.  More specifically, on his hands.

They’re damn near double the size of your own.  His fingers are long and slender, nails perfectly manicured, skin soft and warm.  He’s a thing of beauty down to even the occasional mole marking the otherwise flawless canvas of his skin.  But even then, those are so imperfectly perfect that of course they belong on him.  You can’t help but smile as you run your thumbs along the expanse of his hands, tracing along his knuckles, feeling the ridges of metacarpals and the soft squishes of a vein here or there.

You know he’s smiling down at you.  You can practically feel it, and you press a kiss to his knuckles to silently acknowledge it.  This earns you a huffed laugh that fans softly against the top of your head.

You turn his hand over and analyze his palm much in the same way.  Every ridge and valley is its own tale.  The swirls of his fingertips, perfectly unique to him, are hypnotic.  Perhaps you look like a loon holding his hand so close to your face, but you want nothing more than to commit even the most microscopic details to memory.

And perhaps you got a little too lost in said details, because his whole hand suddenly is pressed gently against your face, fingers splayed out up into your hair, and he gently shakes you with a playful giggle.

“Close enough?” He asks, wide grin perfectly audible in his voice.

“Cloh-enou–” you reply, but his palm muffles your words, prompting you both to break out into little laughs.  Having been reclined back against him, your body jostles in time with his laughter, and you swear in your heart that this is right where you belong.  Right here, right now, with the love of your life and his big fingers pinching at your cheeks as you both smile and melt into the joy of one another’s presence.

Silly and kind, sweet and loving…

“I love you,” he murmurs after a time.  Of course you say it back.  And of course you shimmy and roll over to hug him and bury your face into his neck after a much deserved kiss on the cheek.

“I love you more,” you whisper against him.  You know he’s going to echo your words, and then you’ll repeat them too.  You’re more than happy to spend the rest of your days going back and forth on who loves who more, for you know the answer is far more than simply that.

You two are utterly and infinitely in love.

[vera-deville]

Between Worlds, Between Words

04/14/2025

Pairing: N/A Word Count: 1,829 Warnings: Depression that builds up from the fact that you're in a world that's not yours Gender: Gender Neutral Tags: @qaxdea, @katzline, @die-remastered Notes: Totally didn't take me like two years to write this. Inspired by this. Masterlist

It all began with a history lecture.

Professor Trein was going on and on (passionately, as always), about the Seven Great Sorcerers and the founding of the Queendom of Roses. Something-something ancient magic, something-something territorial disputes. You weren't sure. It all sounded like the dramatic backstory of an MMO.

You blinked down at your notes. You had written Queendom of Roses five times in a row, underlined one of them, and then - without fully realizing it - drawn an itty-bitty round-headed T-Rex beside the word. Your pencil hovered. You stared at the creation.

That was the moment you'd pinpoint.

The moment you realized you hadn't thought about dinosaurs or anything of the sort in weeks. Not a single pterodactyl. Not a single deinosuchus. Not a single Berthasaura leopoldinae. You used to be able to rattle off entire prehistoric eras like a party trick.

And now?

Now you were sitting in a gothic castle-school in another dimension, learning about long-dead magic monarchs, while wearing a uniform that quite literally had gold embroidery.

You raised your hand.

Trein, ever the professional, paused mid-sentence and looked up from his book. "Yes, Y/N?"

"Do you..." Your voice was very calm, very reasonable. "Do you know what dinosaurs are?" You waited for him to cause your world to crash down (and further cause you to crash out in the middle of a classroom, of all places).

The classroom fell silent. Deuce blinked at you from across the aisle. Ace looked up from where he was doodling something suspiciously inappropriate in the margins of his textbook. A few heads tilted. Professor Trein furrowed his brow.

"Dinosaurs?" He repeated.

You nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Y'know. Giant lizards? Extinct? Kind of a big deal where I'm from."

"I suppose you must be referring to the draconic species," Trein said slowly. "Dragons were once prominent in the Land of Briar, but-"

"No. No, no, no. Not dragons." You waved your hand. "They didn't have magic or fire-breathing. They just...ran around and roared and occasionally ate each other. Real chill. They had feathers sometimes. I think? And they're all dead. Very important part."

Trein blinked at you, confused. "I've never heard of such a creature."

You nodded again, eyes wide. "Yeah. That tracks. That definitely tracks."

And then you laughed.

It wasn't a cute laugh. Not a giggle. Certainly not a dainty little chuckle. No, it was a full-body, slightly breathless guffaw that escaped from your chest like it had been trying to get out for days. You slapped a hand over your mouth, horrified, but it was too late. The dam had burst. You were cracking up in the middle of lecture like a sitcom character who finally snapped.

"Oh my God," You wheezed, "I'm losing it. I'm actually going insane. This is my villain origin story."

Trein just looked tired.

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You didn't get detention, miraculously. (Trein may have chalked it up to "dimensional stress" and decided not to poke the hornet's nest).

But it was only the first domino in a long, long line.

The rest fell fairly quickly.

Later that day, at lunch, you tried to make a joke about TikTok and go blank stares from every single table. You had something dumb like "It's giving ✨depression✨" and the silence that followed was deafening.

Even Grim had paused mid-bite. "Giving what now?"

You wanted to scream. Instead, you chuckled weakly and pretended to choke on your food.

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"Do you ever," You muttered to Ace and Deuce one day while walking back from Alchemy, "make a really niche reference and then realize - oh. I'm all alone. No one here gets it. I'm never going to have a meme-based conversation again."

Ace shrugged. "You could just make a new meme?"

"That's not how that works!" You cried, clutching your textbook like a lifeline. "They're...they're communal! They're sacred!"

"Maybe you oughtta get used to the memes here then. Dunno what you're complaining about."

Deuce patted your back with a concerned frown. "Maybe you should take a nap."

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It would've been bearable, maybe, if you didn't keep catching yourself saying things no one understood.

Once, in P.E., you muttered, "I'd sell my soul for a Baja Blast right now," after running laps.

Cater turned to you. "What kind of spell is that?"

You nearly bit your tongue.

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There were good days, sure. Days when the chaos of NRC felt almost normal, the strange magic of the world you'd landed in had a fairytale charm. You even liked it sometimes. The floating candles, the enchanted mirror, the weirdly attractive student body (seriously, what on Earth was in the water here?).

But then something would happen - a throwaway line from a friend, a specific smell, a distant memory - and the homesickness would sucker-punch you in the gut.

You missed your old phone. You missed a steady flow of electricity. You missed your precious animes from back home. You missed complaining about anything and everything to your friends in your group chat at 2 in the bloody morning. You missed sending them cursed memes and sobbing over fictional characters they knew you'd been in love with since forever.

You missed feeling understood.

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You think the final straw was a joke.

Ace said something stupid and punny in class. Something about cauldrons and bad grades - classic Ace. Everyone laughed.

You didn't.

Not because it wasn't funny. You figured maybe it was. Surely it had to be, with the reaction of your classmates. But you didn't get it.

You didn't understand the slang. The reference. The cultural context.

So you just sat there, frozen in place, smile tight and fake, and your laughter coming out a few seconds too late.

You felt weirdly hollow.

Not the dramatic, tragic kind of hollow. Just the kind where something that should've made you feel warm instead made you feel like a cracked mug. Still functioning. Still upright. But leaking a little.

And of course, Professor Trein noticed.

He didn't say anything at first, just gave you a quiet, thoughtful look before resuming the lecture. You sat up straighter. Tried to look attentive.

But even so, at the end of class, while everyone packed up their books and filtered out of the room in clusters of laughter and inside jokes, Trein called your name.

"Y/N," He said, tone gentle enough that you flinched a little.

You turned, your bag slung over one shoulder. "Yes, Professor?"

"If you're not in a rush," He said, adjusting his glasses, "would you...care to join me for tea this afternoon?"

You blinked. "Oh. Uh. Sure. Is this - like - a detention-in-disguise kind of tea or...?"

He chuckled softly. "No punishment involved, I assure you."

So that was how you found yourself, after classes ended, sitting in the most scholarly little office you'd ever seen, across a worn oak desk from Professor Trein, with two steaming teacups between you.

Grim of course, had no reason to be there, so it was just you, Trein, and Lucius - who sat on the windowsill like a furry, judgemental gargoyle.

Trein poured your tea and added a sugar cube to his own with great precision. His movements reminded you greatly of Vil.

"I find," He said slowly, "that I don't understand half the things my students say anymore."

You blinked.

"They speak in riddles," He continued, "about things I cannot begin to visualize. They once referred to something as 'mid." I assumed it meant middling, perhaps average. But then I was told - by Ruggie, I believe - that it was an insult?"

You snorted. "Oh, yeah. 'Mid' is like the fancy new word for 'meh.' A good way to start a fight in a cafeteria."

Trein's eyes twinkled. "Yes. Precisely. I've taught for nearly four decades and still find myself utterly baffled by whatever new linguistic virus has infected the student body."

You laughed - genuinely, this time.

"I don't get any of their references either," You admitted. "But, like...from the opposite direction. I say stuff and they look at me like I've sprouted wings."

Trein leaned back in his chair. "I did wonder about your question in class earlier this week. About...dinosaurs, was it?"

"Oh my god, yes!" You set your teacup down. "They don't know what dinosaurs are, Professor. Dinosaurs! Like - prehistoric lizards! We have museums about them! They've made animated movies!

"Fascinating," He said, and it was clear he meant it.

"They thought I was talking about dragons," You muttered, sinking in your chair. "I nearly cried."

Trein's mouth quirked into a small smile. "It must be terribly isolating."

Your shoulders tensed. "Sometimes I don't feel like a person here. I feel like a joke. Like a weird little artifact that fell out of some ancient time machine and nobody's quite sure how to categorize."

"You're not a joke," He said, kind but firm. "You're someone trying to survive in a world that was no built for you."

That hit you right in the gut.

Lucius lept off the windowsill and sidled your leg, promptly resting his head near your foot. You sipped your tea quietly for a moment.

"...Thanks," You said, voice a little hoarse. "I think I needed to hear that."

He nodded, then tilted his head, thoughtful. "Would you be willing to tell me more about your world?"

You blinked. "Wait, really?"

"I may be old, but I've always valued learning," He said. "And you're a living library of knowledge we've never had access to before."

You grinned. "Okay, then. Where do I start?"

You ended up talking until the sun dipped low in the sky. You explained your version of the internet, social media, reality TV, electric cars, and theme parks. You showed him how memes worked. You drew a rough sketch of a dinosaur. You explained your favorite movies, and how music was streamed, and how cooking shows were a national obsession. Trein took notes with the fascinated curiosity of someone rediscovering the joy of being a student.

He, in turn, told you stories about past generations of students. About how the slang used to be different even back then, about the way magic has changed, and about the first time Lucius clawed someone in the middle of class for disrespecting history.

You both laughed a lot.

You scratched Lucius behind his ears for a bit, allowing the soft purrs to lull you further into your feelings. The conversation was exactly what you needed. As you left his office, you heard him say, "You are more than welcome to come to me for anything you may need. I am more than willing to explain the ways of this world to you so that you may pass your classes."

As you walked back to your dorm, the castle halls a little quieter, a little softer in the dimming light, you didn't feel so lonely.

Not everyone got you.

But someone was trying.

And for now...that was more than enough.

Author's Note: I'd just like to say that I genuinely think that Twisted Wonderland had dinosaurs and that their existence has long been known worldwide, etc. I like to further think that modern-day dragons (as rare as they may be) are descendants of old-day dinosaurs and that they somehow magically evolved into dragons. Having said that, I thought it would be admittedly funnier if the Reader found out that the people of Twisted Wonderland don't know anything about dinosaurs, and they crash out because of it. So, I went with that for this story!

Masterlist

[jjwolves]

Hi! just wanna request ( you dont have to abswer ofc) any ena hc you have? ooor maybe some moonie ones?

─ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─── Yellow Magic, Blue Miracle ─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆─

What: 5 ENA X Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

Who: ENA, from ENA by Joel G

How Much: ~800 words; reading time ~3 mins

Images: Top -> Joel G; Divider -> @cafekitsune

Warnings: None

Genre: Romance

ENA is pretty unaware of romance in general, at least starting out. She doesn’t have a very good reference point for your feelings, nor her feelings for you. But she does start to feel… very strongly about you the more you two hang out and go on adventures together. “I mess up everything I touch! I’m a disaster!” she wailed once when the two of you were stuck in a vat of glitter glue. “Don’t say that!” you yelled back. ENA’s face flickered. “You’re the only reason we even got this far! Give yourself more credit!” How confounding! On one hand, you sounded angry, but on the other, your words were encouraging. This was a puzzle she looked forward to solving.

Upon figuring some things out after reading a scroll on the subject made out of a butterfly’s wing (many thanks, love scroll!), ENA makes a beeline for wherever you are, obstacles be damned. She finds you and, yellow side as polite and unclear as usual, says, “The butterfly scroll has opened the shower curtain for me, and I’m now rinsing off the grime of formality.” “What?” A turn of the head and a pass of the emotional baton. “I was thinking that you loved me… But you don’t even know what I’m talking about!!” Before she can cry more than she already has, you take her hands, one soft and one blocky, and tell her the truth. “ENA, I do love you.” Her eyes widen and she’s buffering. "T-Truly?" But when she recovers from her stutter she’ll be crashing back into sunshine-colors in no time. You two adapt to the new relationship pretty quickly; it’s essentially just your friendship but with a new side unlocked. And she’ll need a new nickname for you to accommodate this, of course. She can’t call you “my good chum” anymore, so she calls you “my good love”. She says that it’s a reasonable meeting point. She assured you that “good” was the most accurate descriptor that she could grant your new title.

ENA is weird, obviously, and while you love her for it, it takes you time to adjust to her behavior now that you’re close. That is to say, she’s not the most stable person. When she thinks you’re hurt, emotionally or physically, she goes into panic mode. If ENA finds you crying, or bruised, or clutching a new sprain, she’s already blue, white and running around, her arms flailing and knocking things over. You’re flattered that it means so much to her… but there are times when it’s seriously inconvenient. If a poor soul enters ENA’s panic bubble when you’re near, she’ll be running over to them to frantically swat them away and cause a scene before running back to you and freaking out some more.

ENA’s sunshine-y side is big on chivalry, and while she wouldn’t hesitate to show a cartoon animal sent to assassinate her the common decency of saying “Hello, good sir!” before running away, she cranks it up to eleven with you around and becomes the most unhinged gentlewoman you may ever meet. She’s the type to run ahead and pull open a door for you, beckoning you inside. “May your feet march on unimpeded, my good love!” You stop at her side and raise an eyebrow. “That’s not the door we need to go in, but thanks.” She blinks once and you wince as she lets it slam shut. Loudly. Like, echoing. Another time, there was a puddle of acid on the ground you could easily walk around (or jump across if you could afford to lose some skin). ENA, sweetheart she is, plucked a coat off a nearby stranger and set it over the puddle for you. “The one I love should never have to fear a goopy fate.” Then the tall, imposing, and now jacketless shadow she stole from turned to you both and his hands became knives, so you two agreed that it was time to get the heck out of there.

Being so close to ENA means that you end up finding new sides to her you didn’t know existed. Everyone knows about her yellow and blue sides if they’ve known her for more than a minute. But she trusts you wholeheartedly with other sides of her that might be less palatable to other people. If she’s drunk, sick, or high off some strange substance or fae mood she encountered, she doesn’t feel the need to suppress her more monstrous forms, where she grows paler, darker, twisted, ceremonial. Instead, ENA just splays herself out on the couch next to you with her horns and flames jutting out of one side and a mischievous pale face smiling eerily from another, crawling over to you and laying in your lap. You both fall asleep pretty easily given the circumstances, resting in the home you found within each other. As you start to drift off, ENA’s regular face, now a symbol resting on her forehead, blushes and closes its eyes.

A/N: I hope that classic ENA is alright for now. I will probably do a Moony one in the near future. Or I may do one where they're both involved and one is the wingman for the other or something similar. Also, when I read ENA fics, I feel like they try to paper over ENA's blue side a lot, but I feel like it's a pretty important part of who she is, at least pre-Temptation stairway, so it's included pretty heavily here. Happy reading! More to come soon...

[hearts-4-vicky]

I have this brainrot for gp!Wonyoung and sensitive reader! You’re so cute for her, you’d promise her that you can take her dick without her finger prepping you first but once she pushes her big dick into your tight cunt, you start to tear up!! :(( You want to be her good girl so you just lay there and let her dick stretch you out until you she was exhausted. She’d purposely overstimulate you, watching how your tears ran down your pretty face and how you were gasping and whiny out because it was too much for you making you squirt all over her pelvis!

ANON MY LOVE OMGGGGGG DOM WONYYYY IM GOING FERAL😍😍😍😍😍😍

warnings: g!pwonyoung, dom wonyoung, soft wonyoung then she switches up🙏😭, wonyoung whimpers!!!!, wony refers to reader as ynnie and some pet names, sensitive reader, sub reader, unprotected sex, wony has a BIG dick, degradation near the end, overstimulation, creampies, marking, breeding, boob grabbing, squirting, dacryphilia, dirty talk, tummy bulge, (first dom wony post😝)

how do u even write moans like idk how u describe them😭🙏

Wonyoung had always been scared of hurting you🥺she knows shes big and just wants you to feel good🫶🏼 so when she starts to rub your pussy, fingers ready to penetrate your hole, you hold her hand in place. Shes so worried that she crossed a boundary that you see her lips tremble as she looks back at you with wide, curious eyes!! “Is something wrong? Do you wanna stop? We don’t have to do this tonight!” sweet girl only cares for ur pleasure and was ready to get rid of her boner by herself 🥺 “No! I want this! but I don’t need prep, baby, I can handle it” you pull her closer, her boner resting against your inner thigh

“Are you sure? Not to brag but I’m pretty big, ynnie…” her hand finding your thigh, drawing shapes with the softest touch of her finger🥺 “Yes baby, I trust you, so please, fuck me til I can’t walk.” Wonyoung’s face grew red at your words! you’ve never said anything like that before! it got her dick harder if that was even possible😛 with a nod, she grabbed her dick out of her boxers and started rubbing herself on your waiting lips. she starts to push her cock in you, watching your expression change

Wonyoung thinks you’re so cute trying to take all of her! strained moans spilled out of your mouth as she was “pretty girl being s-so! mmgh- good for me! taking all of my cock in her t-tight lil cunt!” she moans, your tightness was on a whole other level, squeezing her dick👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 you were getting too tight as she pushed more of her cock in you.🥺 “B-baby… fuck.. relax your body a bit- shit! so tight…” you steady your breathing, giving wonyoung more space to move. she looks down to your pussy, seeing how tiny it was compared to her throbbing cock, turning her on even more😍

finally getting her full length in, you let out a moan👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 her tip kisses your cervix😛with each breath she took, she moved a bit which nearly had you in tears ( in a good say i SWEAR🙏🙏🙏🙏)

She pulls her hips back slowly, before pushing forward again faster💥💥💥 her pace quickens as your whines and moans got louder. the sound of her balls slapping against your ass had gotten louder and more frequent😛 wony was a moaning mess as well, your cunt was still tight as fuck, but not to the point where it hurt. every thrust felt like it would be her last, every clench of your pussy around her cock nearly brought her over the edge😍 but she wanted you to cum first, your pleasure was her priority. she needed to distract herself with something

Leaning down to your neck, she presses kisses all over🥺 finding you sweet spot, she gives it kitten licks, before full on making out with your neck💀 drilling her dick inside of you as if she was a virgin getting off for the first time (crazy🤯🤯🤯🤯) your whines and moans soon drowned out the wet slapping sound and wonyoungs moans as well👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 “f-fuck! wonyoung PLEASE!! ah! I-I’m close!” you felt a knot in your stomach, it got tighter with each slam of her dick in your cunt🔥 “Me too! Cum for me baby! Shit!-“ you were squirming under her, back arched and squirting while nearly blacking out🥺 wony let herself shoot all of her warm load into your needy pussy, moving her lips to yours and initiating a passionate kiss💋😛 riding both your highs came to a stop, both of you in a daze

“Fuck wony, that was so goo-“

“You think we’re done?”

Wonyoung started to thrust herself back into you slowly

Some rounds later n you came a total of 10 times (praying for u babes🙏) nearly passing out with every orgasm😭 wonyoung had basically made your pussy remember the shape of her dick, to the point no one else could enter, only her😍 wony never slowed down her pace, giving you harder thrusts whenever she came🥺 “w-wony!! mm ha! hurts!! c-can’t take anymoreeeE!” your sobs grew louder, turning into squeals as wonyoung started jackhammering into your abused cunt🥺🥺🥺🥺 your face full of your tears, vision blurry as your crying “You look so fuck- p-pretty right now, my love. My personal, gah! fucktoy” wonyoung takes notice of how you clench around her after saying that, so she tries something. quickening her pace a bit, she leans down to your ear, moving her hands to your tits to use them as handles

“Oh? you like that? Like being degraded like the fucking whore you are? Too impatient to get prepped that you just wanted my big, fat cock up your pretty little fuckhole? what would the girls think? seeing you get used like a sex doll?” you and wonyoung never expected what happened next. so turned on by wonyoung’s words, you threw your head back, feeling ecstasy all over your body. the liquid gushing out of your pussy was strong, soaking both of you. “Oh fuck…” wony mumbled before slamming herself in you one last time😝 she halts her movements, only the steady rise and fall of her chest is noticeable as her balls spill all of its worth into your already full womb🥺 the bulge in your stomach made her smirk. she pumped you full of her seed, she got to see you so vulnerable, she was the only one who could fuck you like this. you looked back at her, breathing heavily. wonyoung giggled at how cute you were, neck adorned with hickeys and eyes so lost in thought🥺

“Are you alright my love? D-did I go too far?”

“Jang Wonyoung if you don’t do that next time we fuck, I’m making you do No Nut November.”

“But-“

“Shh, I’m tired now, hug me.”

“wha- okay…”

“hey ynnie i got a boner too, me next-“

“YUJIN WHAT THE FUCK.”

i need to write more dom or switch wony cuz like😍😍😍WOWOWOW that girl does something to me🤐 yujinnie makes me giggle (i want her too)

thank you for the request my love!

stay safe and love ya lots

-Vicky💋

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 4

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder; fluff with hints of angst; drama; no explicit smut

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

✿ C W ✿ swearing, suggestive language, overthinking, light tension

✿ S Y N O P S Y S ✿ it's the last year of high school and you were paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if you weren't awkward as hell and well ... if there weren't your big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron was intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and your mind? that shit was even more tangled. but you hadn't spent all these years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through your fingers ... right?

✿ S U M M A R Y O F R E C E N T E V E N T S ✿ you spent the day overthinking after rafe had texted you out of nowhere almost immediately after your first project session. waiting for his response, you ended up distracting yourself at the beach with cara where no one other than jj maybank interrupted your little hangout. later at home, you find yourself enjoying texting with rafe and you even agree to another project session for the next day.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 4.5k+

✿ A / N ✿ this one's longer than the last three, whoopsie. also, fyi molly will play an important role later (for the better or worse 😇), so she’s not just a random boring side character i came up with lol. plus, replaced the “slow burn” genre tag with “she fell first, he fell harder” bc it fits better (i still don’t wanna rush things). anyway, i hope you guys enjoy, and i'd love to hear what you think about this part <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // T U E S D A Y

With tired eyes, you sank into your seat next to Cara in the third row of the bio lab. Getting out of bed this morning had been a struggle.

And to make things worse, it was Tuesday—first period biology with Mr. Martin, the oldest and slowest-talking teacher at Kildare Academy. On top of that, you’d barely gotten any sleep last night because the events of yesterday had kept you up.

In seven years, you’d exchanged maybe a handful of sentences with Rafe Cameron, and then suddenly—BOOM. Project partners. A shared lunch. And then you’d texted with him. For someone who usually did the bare minimum when it came to their crushes, this was a full 180.

Of course, you couldn’t stop obsessing over how awkward you’d been during lunch yesterday, not to mention the horrible 'fuckboy' misunderstanding ??? And oh God—that had just triggered a full mental highlight reel of every embarrassing moment in your life.

Diagnosis: chronic overthinker.

“I saw Rafe in the parking lot earlier,” Cara murmured, a wide grin spreading across her face. “And girl, he looked hot. And I don’t mean frat boy Cameron hot—I mean, there’s-something-different-about-him hot. I was gonna take a picture for you but knowing my luck, the flash would've gone off.”

You stifled a laugh. “Very thoughtful of you, C, but I’m gonna see him later anyway.”

“Ooooh, so you guys set up a second date?” she teased, nudging you with her elbow. “One day after the first? That’s moving fast.”

Heat rushed to your face and you smiled sheepishly. “I was referring to Economics class. But yeah, we did set up another meeting for the project.”

“Mhmm, for the project…” Cara smirked.

You twirled your Apple Pencil between your fingers and rolled your eyes, amused. “You’re reading too much into it.”

Cara raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not reading into it enough. He went out of his way to get your number when he could’ve just asked you at school. Hell, he probably could’ve found it in some random party or class group chat. But no—he made it a point to track it down, which, by the way, is basically his way of showing interest. And now, he’s making plans to see you again. Rafe isn’t exactly known for putting effort into schoolwork. So yeah, safe to say it’s not just about the project.”

Her words were dangerous because they gave you something you really didn’t need—false hope. And sure, everything she was saying kind of made sense. But you knew better.

“Maybe, but we don’t know that. So there’s no point in getting all delulu,” you said quietly.

“Oh, Y/N!” Cara’s voice came out louder than intended, earning her a sharp look from Mr. Martin.

Her cheeks flushed pink, and she mumbled an apology in her best teacher’s pet voice before turning back to you. “With that attitude, nothing’s ever gonna happen.”

She wasn’t wrong. But wasn’t this just you being realistic?

“I'm not saying play easy to get but also don't choose to not play at all,” she urged. “Rafe might seem untouchable but he’s just a guy. A very attractive one, but still—a guy.”

Shit, yeah, she's right.

You nodded, then met her gaze with a small smirk, remembering the chat with Rafe yesterday. “By the way, he’s just as much of a Ruthie hater as we are.”

Cara clasped her hands together dramatically. “Oh, I love that. Bet Cameron has some top-tier gossip. You know he’s got insider knowledge.”

You bit back a laugh. “Guess I have to recruit him now.”

“That’s the spirit!”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Next up was geography. Molly Crane slid into the seat beside you, her red hair styled into an effortlessly pretty updo.

“You look way better today,” she noted, referring to yesterday’s little bathroom meltdown before you met with Rafe.

You smiled. “Yeah, turns out the milk in my cereal was expired,” you lied, feeling a pang of guilt.

“Oh no,” she winced. “That happened to me once. I was stuck in bed for two days with stomach cramps. But glad you recovered quickly.”

Her laugh was infectious, and you found yourself grinning along.

Molly was genuinely the sweetest person in Figure 8. Honestly, you couldn’t understand how she wasn’t already in a relationship. She even worked part-time at a smoothie shop run by some old Pogue guy who couldn't do it anymore.

God created Ruthie Whitmore and sent Molly Crane as an apology.

Speaking of Ruthie… You had the privilege of spending the next two periods in her delightful presence.

Her obnoxiously loud voice was already ringing through the hallway, carrying over from inside the classroom.

As much as she pissed you off, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you were excited to see Rafe again. Texting with him last night had been fun—but today, there’d be no screen to hide behind.

It’s fine. You got this.

When you stepped into class, most students were already seated—either talking about last weekend’s party or flexing about their latest Daddy-funded luxury cars. Others, like you, had just gotten back from break and were still finding a seat.

Ruthie, of course, was at the front, wearing a tight top with an obnoxiously low neckline, deep in conversation with her best friend about… whatever. Who cared? Why were you even listening?

Just as you set your bag down in your usual window seat in the front row, a voice spoke beside you. “Do you really wanna do this to yourself?”

You blinked, stunned, and looked up—straight into Rafe Cameron’s smug grin.

His storm-blue polo made his eyes pop in an almost criminal way. It also clung just right to his frame, and holy fucking shit, he smelled so good.

And Cara had been right—something was different. He looked even better than usual… somehow even more confident than he already was.

Oh, great. Here we go again.

Your face heated as you gave him a confused smile. “What?”

“Ruthie,” he said flatly. For a split second, you thought she might turn around in offense, but she was too busy running her mouth to notice.

You raised a brow at him, to which he just scoffed, clearly unbothered. “She knows I don’t fuck with her.”

Literally or figuratively?

Wow, chill.

Still, you weren’t entirely sure where he was going with this. You fiddled with the strap of your bag. “It’s not like I can just go sit on the other side of the school.”

Hadn’t we agreed—no more dumb jokes?

Rafe huffed out a small laugh, then tipped his chin toward the back of the room. “Last row should be far enough.”

…

Was that—was that an invitation? Shit. YES.

OKAY, UM—

You stared at him, a little too stunned to respond. If he hadn’t meant it like that, this would be beyond awkward.

Rafe raised a brow, his smirk widening. “So you are a nerd.”

And with that, he turned and walked toward the back of the class.

IT WAS AN INVITATION.

FUCK FUCK FUCK, MOVE, YOU IDIOT.

You clenched your jaw, shoving past the second-guessing thoughts trying to creep in—and followed him.

You almost walked right into him when he stopped at the row of desks by the window. A knowing smirk played on his lips as he glanced back at you. “Rebellious.”

Heat rushed to your face as you furrowed your brows. “I just don’t wanna be labeled a nerd.”

For a moment, something familiar flickered across Rafe’s face but before he could respond, Mr. Collins' voice cut through the room.

“Whew, okay, sorry for the delay, guys. Had a little incident in the teachers' lounge.” He cleared his throat, then his gaze landed on the back row. “Cameron, Y/L/N, flirting's reserved for after class. Now sit down if you would.”

Holy fucking shit. Not even noon, and today was already a disaster.

All eyes were on you. Some students let out a general chuckle, while others (the girls, let’s be honest) rolled their eyes or shot you two —specifically you—annoyed looks.

Heat spread across your face like wildfire as you quickly dropped into the chair next to Rafe—only for your bag, still slung over your shoulder, to nearly body-slam his right side.

“Jesus, is your dad Mike Tyson or something?” Rafe muttered, rubbing his arm with an amused smirk.

Okay. That’s it. You’re cursed. There was no other explanation for the absolute insanity of the last two days.

At least most of the class had already turned back around to listen to Collins ramble about some irrelevant teacher drama.

Face burning, you yanked your bag onto your lap. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You okay?”

Rafe huffed a quiet laugh, nodding. “The Golden Shore's looking for a bodyguard. Might wanna apply.”

You stared at him for a second before raising a brow, unable to hold back your tongue. “I’d rather crash a Cut house party than step foot in that place again.”

The Golden Shore was the peak of Kook pretentiousness. You’d visited this nightclub once with Cara and some other friends but 99% of the people were just there to show off their expensive clothes and jewelry, not to actually have fun. Not all Kooks were like that, obviously, but that club attracted the absolute worst of them.

Rafe raised a brow, looking more confused than amused. “And I’d rather shoot myself than hang out with a Pogue.”

You smiled, but it faded fast when you realized… he actually meant that.

“I thought your dad was originally from the Cut.”

Okay. That did not sit well with him.

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he tilted his head, an irritated smile creeping onto his face—one that sent a weird, uncomfortable feeling through you. “The fuck do you know about my dad?”

Thin ice, Y/N. Very thin ice.

“I just mean—”

“What? You think you're better because both your parents grew up in Figure 8?” His tone was sharp enough that a few students in front of you turned their heads.

First of all, how the fuck did he know that? And second, what the hell was his problem?

You scowled, shaking your head in frustration. “What? No!”, you shot back, harsher than you intended. “What does someone’s background have to do with whether they’re ‘better’? This—I don’t give a shit about stuff like that. If anything, it’s impressive how your dad worked his way up. That just makes him even more respectable, doesn’t it?”

And there it was again—that look. Slightly raised brows, eyes subtly widening, lips pressed together like he wasn’t sure how to respond.

But just as quickly, it disappeared behind a lopsided smirk. “Shit. I thought that attitude yesterday was just an act.”

Now you didn’t know how to respond.

Was he messing with you? Or was he just covering up how ridiculously over-the-top his reaction had been?

Something told you it was both, and for some reason, that left you feeling… unsettled. Rafe’s moods flipped so fast, you didn’t know what to make of it.

For now, you decided to go along with it.

You gave a small, awkward shrug, your eyes flickering down to your fidgeting fingers. “This got nothing to do with attitude. I'm just saying what I think.”

“So do I,” he replied, but the sharpness from earlier was gone, replaced by something more playful—almost like a challenge.

You met his gaze, and for a second, you swore he was testing the waters again. But for what?

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Mr. Collins cut in loudly. “Since you and Mr. Cameron seem to be deep in discussion, I assume you were just going over the answer to my question?”

Oh. Fuck.

You bit the inside of your cheek. Of course, you had no idea what he was talking about, and by the look on his face, he knew it too.

Even worse, half the class was now staring at you like you and Rafe had just gotten caught doing something inappropriate.

You forced a polite smile, ignoring Ruthie’s smug expression from across the room. “Could you repeat the question, sir? Just to make sure I heard it correctly.”

Collins’ lips twitched slightly. “Of course. When two companies are in direct competition but neither wants to be the first to lower their prices, what economic principle is at play?”

Economic principle… how the fuck would I know? Shit. It's some kind of theory, right?

You felt heat creeping up your neck.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Rafe rubbing his nose. Barely audible, he muttered, “Prisoner’s dilemma.”

Good enough.

“That would be the prisoner’s dilemma,” you answered.

Collins nodded, but without breaking eye contact with you, he said, “Correct. Thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

Shit.

“Would you care to explain the origins of that theory?” This time, his question was directed at Rafe.

“It’s a classic game theory move,” Rafe said, not missing a beat. “If one company cuts its prices, they get more customers, sure. But if both drop their prices at the same time, they both lose out. So, neither does it—nobody wants to be the one getting screwed over.”

Holy shit.

Collins nodded again. “Can you give me a real-world example?”

Rafe shrugged. “Seabrook Club and Bluewater Country Club. They both want to attract the richest members but if one suddenly lowered their membership fees, it’d make them seem less exclusive or some shit. So they both keep prices high because neither wants to lose that luxury appeal.”

Okay. The confidence with which he just laid all of that out was so fucking attractive, you almost forgot to breathe.

“Very good. Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” Collins said, looking pleased. Then he turned back to you. “Perhaps next time, Ms. Y/L/N, you’ll focus a little more on my lesson—rather than your new seatmate.”

Yeah. And you really thought this day couldn’t get any more humiliating.

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After the absolute train wreck that Economics had been, you were beyond relieved to hear the bell finally ring.

At least you’d managed to avoid a third public humiliation. Not that it couldn’t still happen at some point…

Rafe, on the other hand, seemed completely unbothered. When you’d awkwardly thanked him for saving your ass, he’d just shrugged and said, “If you hadn’t answered, Collins would’ve called on Ruthie, and I wasn’t in the mood for that shitshow.”

Still, it had been a nice gesture—even if Collins had definitely seen right through it.

Not that you’d been able to focus on anything for the rest of class anyway. First, your brain had been stuck in an endless replay of your mortifying failures. And second—YOU HAD BEEN SITTING MERE INCHES AWAY FROM RAFE CAMERON.

Not across from him. Not at the table next to him. No, right fucking next to him. Sometimes, your elbows almost brushed, and—Jesus Christ, what the hell was in his aftershave? Crack? He smelled insanely good. If you’d been ovulating, you probably would have jumped him like some rabid werewolf.

You almost laughed at the thought. As if. You were about as far from that kind of action as one could possibly be—taking a walk to the sun seemed more realistic.

And even though class was finally over, the stress and heart palpitations weren’t. Because now, you still had to get through working on that damn art project.

Which meant—at least, you thought it did, since you hadn’t talked about it since yesterday—that you and Rafe would be eating lunch together again.

Unless, of course, he was already sick of your constant embarrassment and decided to eat somewhere else instead.

Honestly? You wouldn’t blame him.

As you packed up your things, you caught a glimpse of Rafe checking something on his phone, his brows pulling together slightly. Then you felt his gaze shift to you.

Oh God—had he noticed you—

“Shit, I totally forgot Kelce wanted to make pizza at his place today,” he muttered, sounding somewhere between annoyed and indifferent. Whether that irritation was real or just for show, you had no clue.

Okay… two options here: Either he actually forgot, or he was using this as an excuse because he’d just realized you were a walking magnet for awkward situations (as if that wasn’t already obvious from the start).

You forced a casual smile, trying to ignore the tiny pang of disappointment. “No worries, we’ll just reschedule.”

Rafe slung his backpack over one shoulder, then, in the most unfazed way, he said, “Or you could join us.”

ALERT. ALERT. BRAIN SHUTTING DOWN.

Wait, what? Was he serious? Was he messing with you? WHAT THE HELL WAS HAPPENING???

This had to be a joke. Why would he want his random project partner crashing whatever hangout he had planned with his friends?

Completely overwhelmed, all you could manage was a dumb, “To Kelce’s…?”

The worst part? It wasn’t what you'd said. It was how you'd said it—like Kelce was some kind of bizarre alien creature that simultaneously confused and disgusted you. (Which, okay, wasn’t that far from the truth if you were being honest.)

You opened your mouth to correct yourself but Rafe beat you to it with an amused scoff. “Shit, now that I think about it, I’m not sure I wanna eat his pizza either. He’s been on some insane gym grind lately, probably stuffing two pounds of protein into the dough.”

You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks still warm. “Sounds like you don’t exactly share his enthusiasm.”

“Oh, I do.” Rafe lifted his brows challenging, adjusting his backpack strap just enough for his bicep to flex slightly—barely noticeable, but definitely intentional. “I just don’t need to be on the same type of shit he’s on.”

Of course, your eyes immediately dropped to his arm and of course, you turned bright red. And because the universe had clearly decided to make you suffer today, of course, he noticed and that smug-ass smile crept onto his face.

SAY SOMETHING. QUICK. BEFORE THIS GETS EVEN MORE AWKWARD.

“Yeah, then I definitely don’t wanna mess up your grind,” you blurted out with an awkward smile. “Besides, I wouldn’t wanna just show up unannounced.”

Rafe shrugged, furrowing his brows slightly as he pressed his lips together in a careless meh. “Don’t give a shit what they think. Kelce brings some random chick to our hangouts all the time.”

Okay. And how exactly were you supposed to take that?!

Was he just saying it to prove that it was okay for him to bring people along, no matter who? Or—and this was the part that sent a weird, uncomfortable feeling through you—was he putting you on the same level as one of Kelce’s random hookups?

The second option made something twist in your stomach, and none of those feelings were particularly pleasant.

“Shit, don’t make that face,” he said with an amused but slightly exasperated smirk. “It’s not like I’m inviting you over to fuck or some shit.”

WHAT THE FUCK. WHY WAS HE SO STRAIGHTFORWARD???

Your stomach dropped, and the heat in your face flared up all over again. You quickly shook your head, brows furrowing. “What?! No, what the fuck—I know!”

TOTALLY BELIEVABLE.

Rafe held your gaze for a moment, then slowly nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “Good. Then let’s go.”

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The door of the Mercedes swung open, and Rafe slid into the driver’s seat. With a furrowed brow, he tossed the keys onto the dashboard and dropped a wad of cash into the center console.

He looked… pissed.

Which, in turn, made your nerves tense because an entire car ride filled with awkward silence would actually kill you.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag in your lap, and even though it wasn’t really your business, you found yourself asking, “Everything okay?”

Rafe frowned, eyeing you irritated, then he shook his head, fastening his seatbelt. “Yeah. That guy's just a fucking idiot.”

You nodded, immediately regretting having agreed to this. Sitting here felt weird. Wrong. Surreal.

And as Rafe pulled out of the parking lot, you couldn’t help but wonder how many girls had already sat in this seat before you.

That, in turn, made you feel ashamed because it wasn’t your place to care. You had no right to judge him for anything.

I’m not his hookup, not his date, and definitely not his girlfriend. I’m his project partner in what’s probably the most boring class of his life.

Ugh, Y/N, drop that pick-me mindset immediately.

You pulled your bag a little closer and turned to stare out the window.

It was so embarrassing but this whole situation was stressing you the fuck out. It was just too much change all at once. On top of that, Rafe was—objectively—a very complicated person. He was impossible to read and you were never a hundred percent sure when he was joking, maybe flirting, messing with you, or actually being serious.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

At the same time, the whole concept of Rafe Cameron was finally starting to take some kind of shape. He was still practically a stranger, but there was a certain thrill to figuring him out—to see what kind of person your longtime crush actually was.

“What?” Rafe’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You blinked, turning your head slightly. “Huh?”

A knowing smirk tugged at his lips but his gaze stayed on the road. “Don’t tell me I scared you off earlier.”

His words came back to your mind. It’s not like I’m inviting you over to fuck or some shit.

You frowned, cheeks pink. “What? No, of course not. I can take a joke.”

Rafe raised a brow, glancing at you for a second. “Then why am I receiving bad vibes from your end?”

Despite yourself, you smiled. “I'm not giving off 'bad vibes'.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” he shot back, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. “Arms crossed, legs locked together, staring dramatically out the window like you’re in some—pfft, I don’t know—some shitty Netflix movie or some shit.”

A quiet laugh left your lips, and warmth crept into your cheeks. “I... just don’t think your friends will be thrilled to have me randomly show up at Kelce’s,” you admitted.

“Shit, you’re nervous about Kelce and Topper?” Rafe looked genuinely amused and met your eyes for a second. “Kelce constantly talks out of his ass, and Topper doesn’t say shit when it actually matters. They're gonna disappear the second we start working on this art stuff.”

…

Was this his weird way of reassuring you? Because if it was, it was kind of working.

You glanced down, smiling slightly to yourself. “I’m just saying, I would’ve been fine with rescheduling. I feel bad crashing your little guy hangout with school-related business.”

Rafe shook his head, scoffing amused (or annoyed, you couldn't quite tell). “You scared hanging out with three guys or what exactly is your problem?"

Yes.

"No", you replied irritated, yet cheeks heating up. "Of course not. All I’m saying is you didn’t need to rearrange your plans."

Rafe’s brows twitched into a furrow for a second, then a cocky smile spread across his face. "Shit, you think you’re receiving some kind of princess treatment? I'm not rearranging my plans for you, I'm combining two things that happen to fit into my schedule."

Princess— what the fuck?

You shook your head, face flushed. “I—don’t twist my words.”

“I’m not. I asked if you wanted to come along and you said yes.” He shrugged. “And now you make it seem like a problem.”

Shit, he was right.

“I know”, you said, shaking your head. “I mean, I just thought—“

“Yeah, you think too much”, he replied mockingly locking eyes with you for a second.

"That's not..." You hesitated, then gave a resigned nod. “I know.”

There was no point in hiding the truth, especially if he'd noticed.

You caught the flicker in Rafe’s expression— he’d been expecting a comeback, not a quiet agreement.

When the car slowed to a stop at a red light, he leaned over without a word, reaching for the glove compartment. Instinctively, you shifted your legs toward the door.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, opening it and grabbing something before tossing it onto your lap.

You flinched as the cool, colorful object touched your skin, raising an eyebrow. “A fidget spinner?” you asked, letting out a baffled laugh.

“Wheezie’s,” he said, leaning back into his seat. “Makes her shut up when I drive her to volleyball practice.”

Okay, first of all, he was driving his little sister to volleyball practice? Very cute. Second, what the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You smiled uncertainly, raising a brow at him. “So, you want me to shut up?", you carefully asked.

He scoffed, driving on as the light turned green. “Sure because you're such a bigmouth." Then he shook his head, gesturing with his hand in your direction. "Nah, your nervousness is just pissing me off", he said but there was no real bite in his tone.

Your cheeks flushed as you struggled to come up with a response. It was obvious you were kinda anxious given the circumstances, so there was no point in denying it.

Absentmindedly, you spun the fidget spinner between your fingers, watching it whirl. Oddly enough, it worked—it helped you settle your nerves and quiet your thoughts.

Or maybe it was the thought that, in his own strange way, Rafe was trying to calm you down.

A warm smile tugged at your lips as you kept your eyes on the spinning toy. “Your sister seems pretty cool.”

Rafe scoffed amused. “She’s annoying, though she knows how to keep her shit together better than most people.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, and the tension in your body seemed to fade away for a moment, only for it to return minutes later when Rafe turned into Kelce Statter’s driveway.

Your fingers made the fidget spinner come to a halt and you pressed your lips together.

The biggest challenge would await you inside the house.

Because the moment you stepped out of the car, two more very intimidating obstacles were waiting for you: Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton.

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

T A G L I S T F O R M If you're only interested in this series, it's enough to drop a comment, no need to fill out the form

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4

[pervspace]

leon s. kennedy

contains: ftm.reader, readers clit is referred as a dick sometimes, perv leon, t-clit sucking, leon cumming untouched, overstimulation, squirting, not proofread

note: i’m kinda alive, sorry…….my horny thoughts weren’t transferring on my screen good enough

leon was relentless when he figured out you had a pussy, like, downright feral. when you first showed him your pussy he was in awe, he thought it was absolutely adorable, especially the way your clit tried to grow into a small dick. you were embarrassed about showing him, you thought he would find it disgusting. most people did, but what you didn’t expect is to feel leon’s mouth cover your dick.

“wh- hey! l-leon you can’t just-“ you were interrupted but a hard suck to your small cock, you were shivering above leon. he didn’t want to stop sucking your cock for any amount of time, he was lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man in a desert. anytime you tried to pull your hips away he let out a throaty growl before grabbing you by your ass and shoving you forward, he took you trying to lessen the pleasure he could give you as an insult.

how dare you try to stop him from sucking you off? do you know who he is? he enjoyed hearing you whine and cry out for him, the way your hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair to guide his face to the best way to pleasure your cock. “shit. not close enough.” he mumbled into your cunt before lifting one of your legs to be over his shoulder, you were now stuck wobbling on one leg as leon sucked your cock like it was the best this he had ever tasted.

“l-leon! please ‘m g-gonna cum!” you warned, hips grinding into his face almost violently. he gave a hum of approval that sent vibrations to your cock, your back arched, your hands in his hair tightened, you let yourself cum in his mouth. you glanced down to see leon gulping down your cum, his eyes were hazy and his grip on your ass tightened. he needed more, way more from you. “sorry, it’s gonna be sensitive…” he whispered before continuing to suck you cock, you let out a scream before covering your mouth in embarrassment. he was ruthless now, tongue gliding all around your cute cock while two of his big fingers bullied your g-spot.

you tried to pull his head away from your cock, your body was convulsing and twitching. he was lost in your pussy, it’s like he was possessed, bobbing his head slightly to see how you would react. his eyes never left your face, he thought you looked absolutely adorable like this. tears coating your cute cheeks, sweat making you look shiny, you trying desperately to pull his head away almost made him laugh.

“l-leon…s-something’s — fuck! — coming o-out!” you were worried, it felt like you were going to pee. you tried to warn leon, tried to get him to stop but he refused, just talking you through it with your cock on his tongue. “just let go baby, you can do it. just a bit more and you’ll make me so happy, okay pretty?” you whined at his words, suddenly curling your body over leon’s head before gushing in leon’s mouth. leon’s eyes widened slightly before letting his eyes roll back, your taste alone was enough to make him cum in his pants, and it did.

he gulped down as much of the clear liquid he could, some of the liquid spilling down his chin. he was whining almost as loud as you, fingers still pumping out of you, wanting you to ride out your high. leon finally let you pul your hips away from his mouth, you looked down at leon with a small pout. leon was licking his fingers clean, he looked up at you with a smug smile. “so…still think i find your dick disgusting?”

[satoruhour]

a/n: IM HERE IM JERE SORRY FOR GOING AWOL

wc: 1.6k

warnings: dom!geto, fem!reader, infidelity / cheating, reader is a teacher, oral / cunnilingus, semi exhibitionist sex, fingering, clit stimulation, pussy slapping, unprotected sex although geto pulls out, praise, he calls you ’slut’ once, n*sfw under the cut

“g-geto-san!” your hand immediately flies to your mouth at the loud moan you let out, propped up so beautifully on the L-shaped sofa while his wife stays sleeping. you look so different than when you commanded the classroom, so pliant and perfect.

“quiet, baby.” geto mumbles against your cunt, using his stronger arms to pull your pelvis closer to him.

your — hookup? acquaintance? — wasn’t one to cheat. it’s a funny thing to say that although he’s married while he has you soaking right through to the fabric below you but his wife wasn’t that innocent either.

the love had died long ago when geto had found that she wasn’t treating mimiko and nanako right, either being rude to them or forgetting to pick them up, small things like that. she didn’t like the extra weight and burden of suguru’s single fatherhood and that already should’ve been a sign and yet he’d put a ring on her — the pussy was too good, he guesses.

until he’s enrolling the girls in classes after passing a dance school, getting to meet you as their teacher. gentle, upbeat, and just oozing with kindness. you’d even went as far to wait with the girls when geto had been late in picking them up.

the lines have blurred since then, smeared so badly to the point you forgot how you ended up on geto suguru’s couch after locking up the studio. their aunt had already picked mimiko and nanako up and you couldn’t just resist after geto said he’d want to get to know you better.

oh, he was getting acquainted just fine.

“mmfhm . .” geto hummed into your cunt, licking stripe after stripe up your folds as your juices pool on his tongue, “cunt’s the best i’ve ever tasted.”

you burned at the praise; it’s no doubt geto has had many people before you but he really did mean it. so much sweeter and intoxicating, and the little sounds you made added everything.

“geto-san . .” you mumble just before he digs in, letting you pull on his hair so his head would tilt up.

“i’m eating you out and you’re still callin’ me by my last name?” geto laughs at your stammers, “’m just kidding—”

“are you sure?” he knows you’re referring to his wife just inches away, but he only scoffs. a hand goes to your clit, thumb rubbing the nub and you whine.

“been the surest once i saw you. i was going to die getting to know you.”

you stifle a laugh, “dramatic ass.”

geto smacks your pussy lightly, loving the way you tighten around nothing. your heels dig into his back as he hovers over your core and you have to steady your breathing.

“knew it from the moment you treated my girls right . .” he trails off before latches his mouth around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue and your hips push up more into his mouth. he moans at that, securing the hold he has on your thigh. you briefly catch how his hands go down to his centre.

“t-that’s just . . the bare minimum— ah! though,” you mewl out, trying to keep your moans to a low as the man below you does not care whatsoever. he slobbers all over your cunt, juices coating the bottom of his face until it’s dripping wet.

“still.” the one word then convinces you that maybe the lady sleeping from beside you wasn’t exactly the best, but you will away the thoughts once suguru drags his tongue down to your hole and his eyes bore holes into yours. he continually nudges his tongue against your clit, the lewd slurping noises making you clench around him.

“hear yourself, pretty?” you feel the grin against your folds and all you can do is whine, “she’s just dripping, isn’t she?”

you nod mindlessly, hands shakily taking his from your thigh and moving them to your neglected entrance. “need y-your—”

geto hums and indulges you, pressing his finger right into you and you moan out loud. his wife stirs for a bit and despite everything your pussy flutters at the aspect of getting caught — suguru smiles.

“dirty slut.” he mutters against your pussy, starting to pump his finger slowly and you tug harder on his black locks. there’s so much arousal everywhere even as he eases his second finger in and the stretch is so delicious.

“s-suguru . .” you trail off, head thrown back at how much thicker and longer his fingers are, “s’good—”

“yeah?” and to your dismay his hands stop, blessed with the cute pout that graces your face and he just laughs, standing to reveal his aching bulge and you’re peeling off his underwear for him.

“wanted to feel you around me, tha’s all,” he slurs in pleasure, licking his lips when he first sees your surprised face. you look cockdrunk already, hearts forming in your pupils.

“will it fit, suguru-san?” you whisper in awe, pumping it slowly and using a finger to collect the pre-cum that’s collected. he groans softly at that.

“it will, just gotta relax for me, alright baby girl?” you nod as he gently pushes your legs up, folding you in half while his tip brushes against your sex. there, he moves his hips, collecting your arousal, just barely putting the tip in. just like his hand earlier, he slaps his cock along your folds and grins at your squeamish movements.

“goin’ in, darling,” geto whispers and pushes in slowly. he’s so focused on the way your cunt stretches, a moan sounding out from deep in his throat while you hold on tightly to his biceps. small pants leave your mouth, seeing the silhouette of his pelvis slowly descend on yours while he bottoms out.

“s-suguru— f-full!”

“that so?” geto breathlessly chuckles before he moves and he has to still his hips just to compose himself at the feeling of your walls. so warm and accommodating. “baby, you feel so damn good . .”

suguru moves soon enough and you relish in the fact how you’ve managed to get such a composed man to break — always so polite and well-mannered when picking his girls up and yet now his hair falls from his hair tie and his cock is reacts so well to your drooling cunt.

this position has geto reaching deeper into you, his thrusts already turning sloppy and he pushes down on your legs more.

“close— ’m close suguru—” you whine out and there’s a teasing comment (“already?”) that leaves his lips, but he can’t speak too when he feels his high approaching too. a man like him reduced to such a fast orgasm has him blushing and yet he can’t resist your cunt.

your hands grasp aimlessly at geto as he smoothly places your legs on his shoulder and he leans down to capture your lips — “feels good, suguru . .”

the both of you hardly care about the person on the couch, mingling moans filling the room as you whimper into the kiss. your cunt continues to clench around him, feeling every vein and shape of his cock and committing it to memory just as he is with you; he thinks he doesn’t want to fuck any pussy ever again.

“’course it feels good, it’s b’cause you’re doing so well,” geto whispers against your lips and he takes note of how praise gets you going when he can feel your pussy throb. “oh? you like that, huh?”

you whisper a soft ‘yeah’ to him and you preen at another good girl he gives you, letting him embrace you fully as he stays buried in your neck. the feeling is all too much, the friction of his pelvis and the drag of his length along your walls that you cum immediately. your cunt gushes around him, and all you can do is babble into his ear.

“that’s it, i got you,” he mumbles against your neck, soft kisses placed there as lets you ride out your orgasm, the squelching of your pussy only increasing in volume as you tremble around him.

“cumming, baby,” geto says as he twitches, one last sloppy thrust into you before he pulls out and pumps his cock with loud drawn out groans. rope after rope of cum leaves his tip, staining your stomach and pussy in white and the both of you pant in unison, small smiles on your face.

“next time i’m cumming deep inside you,” geto says even when at the corner of his eye, he can see his wife slowly coming to consciousness and the shock register on her face that he’d stoop as low as her — random guys she brings to their house exchanged for one sweet teacher with an even sweeter pussy.

and geto suguru goes right to fucking you again and drawing the most sultry moans until she stomps away with anger and slams the door so hard it might’ve come off its hinges.

there’s only a shrug from geto at your distraught expression, but he resolves it soon enough with a hand to your clit, rubbing languid circles into it that you choke out a moan.

“are you sure it’s alrig—!”

“perfectly, baby,” he takes your hand and plants a kiss to it; it’s so gentle like other times, where he’d bring you to some quiet cafe to avoid being seen, or just a simple dinner in his home and you hate how you’re already falling for a married father and still, the thrill was just too good.

suguru puts your hand around his cock and you move with second nature.

“your pussy’s much prettier and better anyway.”

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

March 21st

~*~

1. Hey, "in the mood" do you have any fics where characters are disabled? (Pref. Physically?)

🔒 no new age Series by everythingispoetry (M/T, 145k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Permanent Injury, Recovery, Disability, Parenthood, Character Study, Thirteen Years of WWX's Death, Families of Choice)

🧡 close your eyes, feel my heartbeat by ThatDesiGirl (T, 11k, WangXian, blind WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rewriting Canon, not a fix-it but a what-if, Canon-Typical Violence, Golden Core Transfer, Romance, Pining)

Bright Enough to Shine by Dreaming_Days (G, 12k, WangXian, Blind WWX)

we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club)

🔒💖  in payment, a hand series by justdoityoufucker (M, 10k, WangXian, not jiang friendly, amputation, injury recovery, self reflection, abusive YZY, families of choice)

🔒 a star called sun by thelastdboy (E, 120k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & JYL & WWX, JYL & LWJ, WWX & WN & WQ, JYL/JZX, Canon Divergence after Xuanwu Cave, Fall of Lotus Pier, But worse!, Power Imbalance, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Not Everyone Dies AU, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Major Character Injury, Loss of Limbs, Chronic Illness, Seizures, WWX’s Three Months in the Burial Mounds, Wēn Remnants Live, Wēn Remnants Deserve Better, WWX Creates a Sect | Yílíng Wèi Sect, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note, Hurt/Comfort, Selectively Mute LWJ, Service Animals, Crows)

Work in Tandem by MimiSpearmint (E, 23k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Single Parent LWJ, when you just want disability-led sword lessons for your child, swordflight instructor!wwx, swordflight instructor!lwj, Fluff, give lwj friends agenda, Protective LWJ, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, Choking, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Implied off-screen D/s negotiations) This is a lot more fluffy than the other submissions, it's a cute modern AU story where WWX is the instructor who teaches Sizhui to fly his sword in a way which accommodates his disability (WWX is an amputee, Sizhui has a hip weakness I think)

🔒 some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hospitals, Teenage Drama, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending)

Black Sun by thelastdboy (E, 73k, WIP, WangXian, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Canon Divergence, Fall of Lotus Pier, Modern with Magic, No Sunshot Campaign, Hurt WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WZL Redemption, Wen Remnants Live, WWX Lives, Amputation, Hurt LWJ, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cultivation Sect Politics, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Disability, Classism)

misunderstood 'verse by sysrae (M, 7k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, getting hit by cars, Past Child Abuse, Friends to Lovers, Abusive YZY, Caring LWJ, Injured WWX, partial hearing loss, the real OTP is everyone x therapy) (link in #2)

~*~

2. hi, this is for the itmf - can i have your favorite modern aus (preferably college but i’d love anything) where wwx still has had a falling out with the jiangs, but i’d like the fic to include them still? like either they make up, or even if not there’s still contact in some way?

like a saturated sunrise by moonsteps (T, 26k, WangXian, College/University, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, References to anxiety, Family Issues, Friends to Lovers, Roommates)

Work of Heart by Witch_Nova221 (T, 17k, WangXian, Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, soft romance, Artist WWX, Musician LWJ, College/University, Modern, Roommates, Friends to Lovers, Family Drama, Emotional Manipulation, Financial Issues, Bad Parent YZY)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)

❤️ the best of you by sysrae (E, 42k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, JC's expressive love language is yelling, Getting Together, slightly undernegotiated kink, but in a very soft and consensual way, Nightmares, the mortifying ordeal of wanting your boyfriend to top you, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JFM and YZY's A+ parenting, sad childhood backstories and the unlocking thereof, Dysfunctional Family, sometimes love is telling your partner they can safeword out of being at a family gathering, Mental Health Issues, therapy is good actually, JC is a ball of Issues, the most tender of railings, Reference to animal attacks/animal cruelty, descriptions of past violence, Mojo’s post)

love on 35mm by fakeplasticlily (M, 26k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Swimming, film student lwj, Pining, Mutual Pining, swimmer wwx, best friends lwj and jyl)

🧡 Where’s Your Emergency? by trippednfell (M, 64k, WangXian, 911 Dispatcher WWX, Single dad LWJ, Kid fic, Modern AU, D&D Games, Angst with a happy ending)

🔒 To Speak Up by Vrishchika (M, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Not Jiāng Chéng Friendly)

misunderstood 'verse by sysrae (M, 7k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, getting hit by cars, Past Child Abuse, Friends to Lovers, Abusive YZY, Caring LWJ, Injured WWX, partial hearing loss, the real OTP is everyone x therapy) there's one on ao3vi forget the name, where wwx meets lz at college and keeps getting hit by cars on accident, and they realize he has hearing loss on one side due to a childhood injury caused by madam yu. His siblings find out and r horrified. It was only a few chapters I think.

~*~

3. Hi! I am looking for fics (as many as you can find) where wwx wakes up in the body of woman/man who is supposed to marry/already married to lan zhan. Many fics would be nice! Thanks for the hard work!! @obsessingly-distracted

wing bones touching by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 26k, WIP, WangXian, XiYao, Identity Porn, Female MXY, Good Person JGY)

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva (M, 132k, WIP, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Functionally Trans Character, Mild Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Transphobia, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Pining, WWX is a Tease, Grief/Mourning, Body Dysphoria, Fake Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Misunderstandings, Doting LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is not in MXY's body, Misgendering, Mild Angst, Assumptions, Comedic Elements, non-sexual nudity, Blood, Discussion of Various Bodily Functions, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, 4 years of mourning instead of 13, Méishān Yú Sect, POV Multiple, Corporal Punishment, Trans WWX, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, pregnancy mention, Timeline What Timeline, Sexual Harassment Threats)

patching the road with vague intentions by loosingletters (T, 39k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Humor, Developing Friendships, WWX Resurrected By Others, Trans WWX, Case Fic, POV WWX, POV LQR, Family, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, MXY Lives)

Catharsis by Starfell123 (T, 9k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, That magic is cultivation, mentions of abuse, Mentions of Disownment, Swearing, Friendship, Attempted Arranged Marriage, WWX has gone through therapy, Catharsiss, upportive friends, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Genius WWX, Rich WWX, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, BAMF WWX)

~*~

4. Hello,

In my childhood there was a book genre, where in a certain chapter you make a decision for the main character and then proceed to a certain page for the chosen version. And so on until the plot end. I wonder if anyone wrote a fic like this?

Thank you!

finally got it all right by larkspur_9 (T, 53k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, Choose Your Own Adventure, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Librarian LWJ, matchmaker A-Yuan, Kid Fic, Getting Together, Fluff, POV Multiple, the following tags only apply to certain paths through the fic, Amnesia, Mutual Pining, Meet-Cute, There Was Only One Bed, caught in a rainstorm, WangXian.mp3, Modern with Magic, vaguely defined spy assassin AU (don't think too hard. just go with it), Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, the violence and death are only in the spy assassin ending, really most of this is pure fluff) these fics contain elements of a Choose Your Own Adventure story

Blind Date by lionfish13 (G, 6k, XXC/XY, Modern, Blind Date, Matchmaking, Light-Hearted, Silly, Fun, Choose Your Own Adventure) these fics contain elements of a Choose Your Own Adventure story

~*~

5. Any fics where WWX isn't immediately clocked as WWX when he is first revived? And especially any where he's also spending time with LWJ who doesn't know who he is yet pls!

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX) but Wei Ying believes he’s truly Mo Xuanyu when he returns so it takes folks (Wei Ying included) longer to realize he’s truly Wei Ying.

~*~

6. Hi team, could you help me find fics where nhs executed revenge not only on jgy but lxc almost in equal measure. And maybe not in a canon way

Thank you!

~*~

7. Although I'm inquiring if there is a story where Jiang Wanyin is held accountable for the torture and murders he does to others whom he takes out his own hatred for Wei Wuxian for practicing demonic cultivation.A story where being a sect leader doesn't save him from the rightful punishment for abusing and murdering those other people like that to the extent that other people and sects know but don't do anything to him for those people's families to get the justice they deserve.Where he is also stripped from his sect leader position, and then Beheaded or his core is sealed and banished and made to work as a servant to those people. Not sure but he deserves a punishment like Jin Guangyao, Sushe and xue Yang. Jiang Wanyin is not repentant so I wish someone gets him a suitable punishment.And hopefully Wei Wuxian doesn't care anymore about him and his issues anymore. @imahqulatte

The Price of a Golden Core by AshayaTReldai (M, 9k, WangXian, Angst, Tension, Aggression, JC pays the price for his choices, demanding letters, JC is a Brat, Supportive Lan Brothers, WWX deserves the best, Life Debt, Sad Ending Sad Ending for JC)

Symmetry by Vir_Abelasan (M, 13k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, One-Sided ChengXian, One-Sided ChengZhui, Canon Divergence, LSZ is raised by wwx, Wwx still dies sorry, Revenge, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dark LSZ, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Torture, Not JC Friendly, JC’s Canonical 13 Years Murder Spree, BAMF LSZ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, LSZ Gets to Go Apeshit)

The plagues of Jiang Wanyin by Lyna_Mei (T, 54k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Cultivation Sect Politics, Family Feels, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Torture, Minor Character Death, Not JC Friendly, JC suffers, Canon-Typical Violence)

~*~

8. Hello. I'm in the mood for a fic in which wei wuxian stops wangji's 33 lashes punishment. Maybe survives and stops in the middle of even from happening at all. I basically just want to read wei ying stopping people from hurting his lan zhan. If you can find any out there I would deeply appreciate it.

Thank you 😊

~*~

9. Hi there! I’m in the Mood for a Fic where Wei Wuxian is presumed dead (but isn’t dead) after being thrown in the burial mounds, and Lan Zhan is devastated then meets the Yiling patriarch and either tries to get the patriarch to help him find Wei Ying, or tries to scheme to take down or kill the patriarch because he blames him for Wei Ying’s death. I’m just looking for some longing and, like, identity misunderstandings and shenanigans. Preferably with a happy ending, but open or ambitious or canon(ish) compliment endings are also cool.

Grief Kindly Stopped by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 5k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Identity Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV LWJ, AU after WWX gets dropped in the Burial Mounds, Light Horror, Fix-It) the closest fic I can think of (but isn't a perfect match)

Needs No Invitation by somnologic (E, 64k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sunshot Campaign, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Identity Porn, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, POV LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ Has a YLLZ Kink, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Misunderstandings, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ is Bad at Communicating)

~*~

10. itmf for single dad wei ying!! preferably to a-yuan, could be canon compliant or any au, i’d love the rest of the wens as a family/commune but doesn’t have to be. thank you!

An Old Cardboard Produce Box for a Cradle by julomaiboulomai, mischiefseven (T, 25k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon Divergence, Sentient Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, Everyone Lives)

🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst, [Podfic] kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), glittercracker, GodOfLaundryBaskets, jellyfishfire, kisahawklin, Koontyme, Rionaa, semperfiona))

it’s a long road but we’re not alone by Stratisphyre (M, 62k, WangXian, JYL & WWX, LWJ & LJY, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Parenthood, Grief/Mourning, Family Feels, Reunions, Golden Core Reveal, Getting Together)

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

Something Warm and Safe by Winxhelina (T, 13k, wangxian, JYL & WWX, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Warm, Friendship/Love, Love, much softer than it seems, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence)

estuaries by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 34k, WangXian, Modern, Breakup/makeup, breakup mostly happens off-screen, Pining while fucking, Single Dad WWX, brief mention of chronic illness, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🧡 i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Modern with Magic AU, Golden Core Reveal, Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization)

A Mother's Love by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 181k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Mostly combo of the Untamed and MoDaoZuShi timelines, Unreliable Narrator, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Miscommunication, Family Feels, Found Family, PTSD, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Political Intrigue, Mystery, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Strong Female Characters, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Good Brother In Law JZX, Genderbent WWX, Intersex WWX, not a/b/o, POV Original Character, Expanded Universe, Unplanned Pregnancy, Golden Core Reveal, WWX Has No Golden Core, Cultivation Sect Politics, Bisexual WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Pining WangXian, Parent-Child Relationship, Getting Together, Protective Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect, MXY Lives) has elements of single parent wwx (not abandoned, wip)

~*~

11. Itmf fics where wwx travels back in time to his parents generation and maybe wwx x wrh or wwx x lwj who also traveled back or wwx x someone who is in his parents generation? PLEASEEEEEEE @jaywuji

~*~

12. hii this is for itmf!!!

any fics where lwj is a house spouse, house husband ANYTHING!!! canon preferred but I'll take everything :)) @bunnycoffeeumcat

crimson blue by cherrywhiskey (E, 138k, WangXian, Modern, Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, Genius WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Bottom LWJ, Eventual mpreg, Protective WWX, BAMF WWX, Caring LWJ, Soap Opera, with plenty of telenovela tropes, like scheming in-laws, sizzling drama, Angst, Romance, AND SO MUCH LOVE & DEVOTION, Power Couple Wangxian, they're smitten with each other, WWX × LQR bonding, Soft LWJ, but he's also got a temper, WWX's debt & duty factor is heavily focused, it's a bit whumpy initially, but Very Very Happy ending, Melodrama)

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Angst with a Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes)

💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27, Mojo’s post)

~*~

13. Hello I am in the mood for good Sangcheng fic (Jiang Cheng/Nie Huaisang). I would prefer them to be the main focus of that story, although I don't mind other ships as long as Sangcheng is main pairing. It could be any theme but I really like enemies to lovers trope so much. No modern aus please. Thank you.

~*~

14. I am need of fox shifter wei wuxian and dragon lan wanji, add supportive lan grandmaster and and lan xichen. Plz

🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting)

~*~

15. Hihi!!! Thank you mods your hard work!

I was wondering if you had any fics of Lotus Pier loving their Zongzhu, Da-shixiong and Jin ling? 🙏💜💟🪷

Preferably no chengxian or character bashing

~*~

16. For ITMF: Madam Lan Wei Wuxian? Just him leading the clan beside Lan Wangji? Thanks!

Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it’s open-ended, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives) the closest fics I can think of are Practical Considerations which has Wei Ying helping Lan Xichen make positive changes to the Lan sect after Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have an arranged marriage and Dispersing Clouds

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) which features Wei Ying being given advice to support the female Lan disciples and manage the household (in chapter 45) and he carries out the advice in the remainder of the story.

~*~

17. hii!! I hope im doing this right. but can you find me a fic where its wlw wangxian? Preferably no modern au’s or oneshots (i will accept all though) Id like for the fic to be long!! Live laugh love lesbian wangxian @mikaoyoo

I have a compilation of canon-era wlw wangxian fic recs here

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[lavenderbuckyy]

classic book covers inspired by fics i love ♡

fics in order under the cut! 📚

there are still beautiful things by @meidui

rating: e, pairing: steve/tony

alternate universe - no powers, age difference, happy ending

cassie, this fic is so unbelievably beautiful. i love how you wrote steve here — so genuine and straightforward and honest and earnest, but you can tell behind all that stoicism and maturity he's longing for someone to take care of him, for someone to love. your tony as per usual is immaculate — when he referred to himself as daddy?? 😵‍💫 absolutely adore how you wrote their relationship. their little dates, the flirting, tony seeing how far he can push. tony so powerlessly head over heels for steve, steve so enraptured by tony he's willing to risk anything. in particular, i loved the scene with steve's ma's old radio. you just get steve. gorgeously written and so evocative 🩷

listen to the wind blow, down comes the night by doctorenterprise

rating: e, pairing: steve/bucky

infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

at first, i didn't know if i could handle a fic that involved in infidelity between steve and bucky - i thought it'd hurt too much 😭 and yes, this fic hurts a lot, but it's also incredible. it's carefully written, but never tentative. it's powerful in its depiction of steve's pain and their fractured relationship. bucky's characterisation is incredible, and the way steve is written honestly made me see an alternative side to his character that i'd never considered before. i adore the exploration of therapy, human connection, relationship dynamics and forgiveness. such a gorgeously written story that delivers a huge impact.

the thing that drives the wolves away by caughtinanocean

rating: t, pairing: steve/bucky

established relationship, ptsd, healing from trauma

this story has been one of my favourite stucky fics for a while. an incredibly sweet, realistic and compassionate look at bucky's recovery. although bucky's ptsd is frightening and painful, steve and bucky's relationship here is so so sweet. their love for each other is the guiding principle of this fic. i adored reading the descriptions of stucky's dates, and all the wonderful details: their eating habits, the nicknames they call each other, the progress bucky makes and how it's expressed through his behaviour. bucky's vulnerable and so lovable here. i absolutely love the scene where steve comes to pick bucky up from group and bucky runs to hug him and kiss him, it's adorable! this story is so hopeful — even after immeasurable pain, there is still so much beauty in the world, and so much opportunity for recovery 🩷

rose blue by @metalbvcky

rating: e, pairing: steve/bucky

married steve/bucky, loneliness, bdsm

i ADORE some established, head over heels in love, married stucky and mandy you absolutely deliver here. i love how you portray their bone-deep, familiar love for one another. bucky missing steve being described as "homesickness"?? 😭 sooo sweet. loneliness and longing is a theme i love to be explored, and you wrote it so well. i also really liked the depiction of a 24/7 dynamic! i don't see enough fics with that outside of aus that call for it, and i like how "casual" it was here — low protocol, loving, and domestic. i loved your description of how grounding it was for bucky — your bucky is so so sweet and lovable, i get why steve just wants to take care of him and kiss him all the time lol. loved the hand-feeding scene, the bathtub scene, and steve confessing he loved bucky mid-sex the best. (the way bucky's favourite thing to hear is how much steve loves himmm 😭) the ending of this fic feels like a warm hug. these two are so gorgeous together and i love their tenderness, their dedication, their connection, their silliness and their all-consuming love for each other 🩷

an apple a day by @norelationtoatticus

rating: e, pairing: steve/bucky

shrunkyclunks, meet-cute, falling in love

where do i begin with this fic! an absolutely gorgeous portrayal of steve in the modern world, adrift and lonely and silently struggling. you capture his genuine nature so perfectly. and your bucky here is amazing — flirty and competent and mature and sexy! their first night together is beautiful. your description of steve's emotions, how overwhelming and emotional and good it is for him, was so impactful. i loved the recurring theme of steve's "sad secret", and bucky's gentle, kind-hearted approach to it. this is miscommunication trope done exactly right. my favourite scenes were when tony visited bucky's hospital, all the different apples steve tried, and them cuddling (amongst other things) on the couch. i also loved seeing a modern-day amputee bucky!

you're the light, you're the night by @howdoyousleep3

rating: e, pairing: steve/bucky

arranged marriage, mafia au, dom/sub

sexy, thrilling, dangerous — three words i'd use to describe this story 🩷 the scene following their wedding has forever stayed in my mind, because my heart just ached for bucky, who felt confused and off-kilter and wishing for someone to just talk to him. bucky's deeply buried, guilty desire to be taken care of was gorgeously depicted here. and as usual, your steve - i'm enraptured. i've always loved how you depict him as loving intensely, almost on this side of too intensely, and your steve here has fully tipped over the edge and is in freefall lol. the scene where he said bucky couldn't leave even if he wanted to, when he said he was already crazy and didn't need a new addiction?? 😵‍💫 calling himself daddy?? i need to lie down. as usual, i loved your portrayal of obsessive, all-consuming, codependent love. mafia stevebucky you will live forever.

thank you to the authors for writing these beautiful fics ♡ the canva template i used is available here!