#god I was struggling. hadn't even been 2 weeks.

[lukewarmbreadatamoderatepace]

In the kind of setting where gods directly get their power from the belief of mortals, then like....

Gods fading out of existence due to lack of believers would be common enough, but inherently that's not going to get much attention, since by the time they die no one believed in them anyway. But if a god that lots of people still believed in died, it feels like that'd make some pretty big waves. That's a powerful being under a pretty big spotlight.

So like, say that, for the first time ever, a Major God falls (this could be from whatever cause you like but I like the bonus irony you get if it was fellow god(s) that did it). All the gods would be trying to keep it quiet, would be PISSED at the ones who did it. Can't let the mortals know we can die! But you can't keep that up literally forever. A GOD is DEAD, it's surely gonna leak out somehow.

I'm imagining kind of a chain reaction: the first prominent god dying triggers the first major batch of conversions to the "none of them are gods, actually, they're just powerful magical assholes" school of atheism. If they can die, then they were never gods to begin with.

People dying or converting to different religions wouldn't affect the net balance of power between gods and mortals-- a mortal dying removes one believer and one belief-target, someone swapping to favoring a different god is just moving the power around among them.

but atheism? That's directly robbing the gods of a follower, with no equivalent reduction in mortal-power!

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You: Part 2

SUMMARY: After deciding you need time away, you ask Tyler for some space to process everything. During your absence, Tyler finds himself constantly thinking about you, realizing how much he misses your presence and what you mean to him. Struggling with how to approach the situation, Tyler begins sending you small, thoughtful gifts, hoping to keep some connection alive while respecting your need for time. Each gift carries a subtle message, his way of reminding you of his feelings without overstepping. Finally, unable to stay away any longer, Tyler shows up at your door, ready to talk and confront the growing emotions between you both.

WARNINGS: More Angst. (with a little fluff)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog

The team gathered around the RV, tension simmering beneath the surface. Things hadn't been the same since Kate joined, and you could feel the shift in every quiet conversation, every glance that Tyler cast in her direction. After the last storm chase, when Tyler sat next to you and apologized for breaking your heart, you knew it was time to make a decision. You couldn’t stay—not with the constant reminders of everything you wished for but couldn’t have.

After a sleepless night, you made your decision. You requested a leave of absence from the team—just two weeks to get your mind straight, to figure out if you could stay and watch Tyler build a life with someone else. When you approached Tyler, he looked at you with a mix of regret and reluctance, clearly not wanting you to go but knowing he had no right to stop you.

“I need time,” you said softly, your voice steady but your heart anything but. “I just…I need to clear my head, and figure out what’s next for me.”

Tyler's eyes searched yours, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But…I’m gonna miss you around here.”

You nodded, knowing he meant it, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, not when he had already chosen someone else. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” you told him, and without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Tyler stepped into the familiar café, the warm smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries hitting him as he waited in line. He pulled out his phone, scrolling absently through messages and notifications, his mind elsewhere. You’d been gone for three days now—three long, silent days. The truck was quieter without your voice, without your little side comments or the music you always played to keep everyone’s spirits up during long chases.

Dexter had grabbed his coffee the first morning you were gone. He hadn’t even noticed at first—it wasn’t quite right, but he’d brushed it off. Just a small thing, nothing major. Today, though, as he stood in line, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted. You always got his order just right without him even having to ask.

The barista behind the counter smiled at him, her pen poised over the notepad. “What can I get for you?”

Tyler opened his mouth, then paused. Was it a double shot of espresso or a single? Did he like anything else added to it? God, how had he never paid attention to this before?

“Uh…” he hesitated, trying to piece it together. “Just a regular coffee, I guess. With…sugar?”

The barista gave him a polite nod, but he could tell she was already moving on, another nameless face in the line of customers. He sighed as he handed her his card, feeling oddly unsettled by the whole interaction. Black coffee wasn’t right—he knew that much. He’d drink it, but it wouldn’t be what he actually wanted. Just another thing that wasn’t right anymore.

As he took the cup and left the café, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. It wasn’t the coffee that was bothering him. It was the fact that you weren’t there to get it right for him, to know the little things he hadn’t even realized mattered. It hit him, harder than he expected. He’d taken you for granted—your presence, your attention to detail, the way you just knew him in ways no one else ever did. And now, with you gone, he felt the emptiness in every small part of his day.

Tyler climbed back into his truck, setting the coffee in the cup holder without touching it. He sat there for a moment, staring at it, the silence around him feeling heavier than it ever had before. You weren’t there, and for the first time, he was starting to realize how much it bothered him.

The truck rumbled down the highway, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Boone was riding shotgun, his hand casually scrolling through his phone as he played DJ for the drive. Tyler had barely noticed at first, too focused on the darkening sky ahead, but as the third song in a row played, something nagged at him.

It wasn’t that Boone had bad taste in music—he didn’t. It was just that none of these songs hit quite right. The rhythm was off, the mood wasn’t there, and Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, like something was missing.

The music was background noise, sure, but when you were the one picking the playlist, it had never felt like just noise. Somehow, you always knew exactly what to play. Whether it was an old classic rock song he loved or something new that perfectly matched the mood, every song you chose seemed to be one of his favorites. It was uncanny, really, how well you knew him.

Boone scrolled through another song, switching it halfway through. Tyler’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the silence between songs suddenly feeling heavier.

“Everything good, man?” Boone asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. He didn’t say anything, but inside, his thoughts were racing. How had he never noticed before? All those times you were riding beside him, picking the perfect song, knowing his favorite tracks better than anyone else… It was like you could read his mind. Or maybe it was something else—something deeper.

Boone finally settled on another song, some alt-rock tune Tyler didn’t recognize, and the sound filled the cab again. But it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The whole drive felt off without you there beside him, smiling softly as you hummed along to the music, your eyes flicking over to him when a particularly good song came on.

Tyler’s chest tightened. You’d always been there, quietly in tune with him, noticing things no one else did. It was in the way you picked the songs, the way you knew when he needed silence, or when to play something loud to get his energy up before a storm. It was in the little things, all the details he hadn’t appreciated before.

How had he been so blind?

He thought about you now, at home, away from the team, from him. He thought about all those moments—so many little things that added up to something big, something he hadn’t let himself see. The music was just one piece of it, but now that he was noticing, he couldn’t stop. The playlist had always been yours, just like so many other parts of his life.

Boone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You good with this song?”

Tyler blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said, though the truth was, no, he wasn’t. Not at all.

He missed you. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Tyler's hand hovered over his phone, thumb tracing the edge of the screen as the truck rumbled beneath him. They were pulling off to the side of the road, another quick pit stop before the storm hit. The others were already filing out of the truck, stretching and talking about what was ahead as they made their way into the gas station for drinks and snacks. But Tyler’s mind wasn’t on the storm, or the chase, or even the team. It was on you.

He should call. He needed to call. He could feel the weight of your absence settling deeper with every passing mile, every quiet moment that used to be filled by your voice or your laugh. The last few days had been hell without you. Coffee tasted wrong, the music sounded off, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, but then it hit him, hard, like a punch straight to the gut: those words you said to him before you left. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe that there was a chance.”

He closed his eyes, the memory slamming into him with full force. The look on your face, the tremble in your voice—God, how had he let it get to that point? How had he been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he never noticed the way you felt, the way you saw him? All those moments, all those signs, and he missed every single one of them.

The phone slipped from his hand and landed on the seat beside him with a dull thud. His chest tightened, shame twisting deep in his gut. You’d believed there was a chance. And he’d taken that hope and crushed it. He’d hurt you, someone who’d always been there for him, always knew what he needed before he even asked. You’d been everything.And all he did was break you. And he hadn’t been able to see it until now.

Tyler’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his phone. He could call you, tell you he missed you. He could apologize, say all the things he should have said before. But would it even matter? You were done with him. He could still hear it in your voice when you walked away—how tired you sounded. How heartbroken. He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough, and the truth was, you were more than enough. You’d always been more than enough.

He was the one who didn’t deserve you. He was the one who wasn’t enough for you.

His hand curled into a fist, the phone still lying untouched beside him. He’d been blind, selfish, wrapped up in his own world while you quietly slipped through his fingers. The thought of you never answering his call, of you moving on without him, stung like hell. But why would you answer? After everything he’d done—or failed to do—why would you want anything to do with him?

He let out a breath, heavy and shaky, feeling the full weight of his regret pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. Not after how blind he’d been to how much you’d cared.

Later that night, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of his room pressing in on him. The team had settled in at the small motel, the storm still hours away from reaching them. Normally, nights like these were his favorite—calm before the chaos, time to relax before the adrenaline kicked in. But tonight, there was no calm. Just the heavy weight of everything he’d been trying to ignore since you left.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging open his duffel bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. But as he reached for them, his hand brushed against something solid at the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pushed aside his clothes until his fingers closed around a book—a book he hadn’t touched in weeks.

He stared down at the cover, his heart giving a sharp twist. The Self-Help Guide to Letting Go of the Past. He had forgotten all about it, shoved in the bottom of his bag after he’d lent it to you. You’d asked for it just last week, something about being curious, but at the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him. You’d never been into these kinds of books before.

Tyler’s thumb traced the worn edges of the cover as the memory of that conversation came rushing back. You’d caught him in the middle of a busy day, the two of you sitting in the RV while the rest of the team was setting up for the next chase. You’d looked almost nervous when you asked if you could borrow it, your voice light, like you were trying to keep things casual. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just handed it over without a second thought, teasing you a little about branching out into self-help.

But now, it hit him all at once. You hadn’t wanted the book. You hadn’t been interested in the advice it had to offer. You’d been looking for something—anything—to connect with him, to spark a conversation, to get his attention. It was just another one of those small things you did that he never took the time to understand.

His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the book, the realization settling over him like a weight he couldn’t shake. You’d been trying to reach out, to bridge the gap between you two, even when he was too blind to notice. And now you were gone. You’d given up, walked away, and he couldn’t blame you. How could he, when he’d been so clueless?

His breath came out in a heavy exhale as he tossed the book onto the bed, running a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed all these little moments that showed just how much you cared? The music, the coffee, the book—none of it had seemed like much at the time. But now, with you gone, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t bothered to put together until it was too late.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the book lying open beside him. He thought about calling you again, his phone sitting within reach on the nightstand, but the same thoughts stopped him cold. You wouldn’t answer. Why would you? You were done trying to make things work with him. And after everything, he couldn’t blame you for that either.

Tyler’s hand curled into a fist, his frustration building. He wanted to fix this, wanted to make things right, but how could he, when he’d already let you down so badly? He’d missed his chance, and the thought of that—of losing you for good—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt before.

The next morning, Tyler sat on the tailgate of his truck, absently sipping his coffee as the team went about their business. They were prepping for the day’s chase, double-checking equipment and reviewing the radar. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, but his mind kept drifting, pulled in a direction he wasn’t ready to face.

Lily wandered over, her brow furrowed slightly as she eyed him. "You okay, Ty? You seem…distracted."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee—too sweet, as usual. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Lily gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. She leaned against the truck beside him, crossing her arms. "You know, it’s kind of weird. Things have been off since she left. I mean, I knew she did a lot for the team, but…it’s more than that."

Tyler’s grip tightened around the cup, his jaw clenching. He didn’t need the reminder. Every day since you’d been gone, things felt off. The coffee wasn’t right, the music wasn’t right, hell, he wasn’t right. But he couldn’t put it into words—not without admitting what he’d been too stubborn to face.

Lily didn’t stop there. "She always knew what you liked, what you needed—even when you didn’t say it. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us did." She paused, giving him a sidelong glance. "It’s kind of strange not having her around. Things just don’t…flow like they used to."

Tyler said nothing, his mind racing as he took in her words. He hadn’t noticed how much you’d paid attention to him, all the little details you got right. But now that you were gone, it was painfully obvious. The realization gnawed at him, twisting the knot in his stomach even tighter.

Before he could respond, Boone approached, his usual easygoing smile replaced with a more serious expression. "Tyler, can I ask you something?"

Tyler nodded, relieved for the distraction—until Boone’s next words hit him like a punch.

"What’s the deal with you and Kate?"

Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Boone raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. It’s obvious something’s up. The way she’s been hanging around you, and now that…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the side. "Look, everyone’s been wondering."

Tyler let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—but the question hung in the air like an anchor, forcing him to confront what he’d been avoiding. "Kate and I… it’s just business. We work well together, but that’s it. She’s brilliant and could really be changing the game with this theory. I care about her, sure, but she’s not…"

He stopped, his words catching in his throat. But what? He didn’t know how to finish that sentence because the truth was sitting right there in front of him, and it was something he hadn’t wanted to face.

Boone’s gaze softened. "She’s not what, Ty? What’s going on?"

Tyler swallowed hard, the words heavy in his chest. "Kate’s not her," he finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. "The one I pushed away."

Boone nodded, his expression knowing. "You mean… her."

Tyler didn’t need to say your name. It was clear who they were talking about. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "I messed up, Boone. She was always there, always…paying attention to everything, and I was too blind to see it. Now she’s gone, and I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."

Boone sighed, leaning back against the truck. "You know, Ty, you’re not the first guy to mess up. But you don’t have to be the guy who keeps messing up. If you care about her, you need to talk to her. And not through some half-assed text message or phone call."

Tyler glanced up, confused. "Then what do I do?"

Boone smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You have to show her. Show her that she means something to you. It has to come from the heart. Do something that proves you see her, that you care, and that you’re willing to make it right."

Tyler let Boone’s words sink in, the weight of it settling over him. He knew he’d messed up—badly—and now he wasn’t sure how to fix it. But the idea of showing you how much he cared, of putting action behind the words he’d never said… it was the first thing that made sense in days.

But could he do it? Could he find the courage to face you after everything, after knowing that he was the one who made you feel like you were nothing more than an afterthought?

Tyler stared down at his cup, the taste bitter on his tongue. He had to try. He had to show you that you weren’t just another person in his life. You were the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, the one he never should’ve let go.

Tyler stood in the parking lot of a gas station, his phone in hand as he stared at the DoorDash app. He’d scrolled through countless options, debating whether to go with something safe like pizza or take a risk. In the end, he decided on the riskier of the two options

He remembered how often you talked about that Chinese takeout place near your apartment, the one you always craved after long days. You’d even convinced him to try it once, and he’d never forgotten the way your eyes lit up when the food arrived. The memory was clearer than he expected, and now, standing alone in a parking lot, he wondered how he’d managed to let someone who knew him so well slip through his fingers.

He couldn’t remember your order. But he remembered that it was something with chicken. He used the pictures on the app and his memory to narrow it down to the dish he thought it was that you liked. With a deep breath, Tyler hit 'order' and added a note for the driver to leave the takeout at your door with a message: "For the long days. I know you love this place. —Tyler."

He hesitated before sending it, wondering if you’d even accept the delivery. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d throw the food out without a second thought. But a part of him hoped that you’d understand what he was trying to say—that this was his first step toward making things right.

You sat on the couch, the remnants of the Chinese takeout scattered across the coffee table in front of you. The familiar flavors had been a comfort, even if you were reluctant to admit it. When you first saw the delivery bag at your door, your heart had skipped a beat, reading the note that was attached.

For a moment, you’d considered ignoring it—pushing it away like you’d been trying to push away the thoughts of him. But after a long day, it felt easier to accept the gesture, at least for what it was: food. Nothing more.

Now, sitting here with your phone in your hand, you debated whether or not to send a message. It wasn’t like you owed him anything, but the gesture had been thoughtful in its simplicity. And a small part of you knew he wasn’t doing it to get something in return—at least, you hoped that wasn’t the case.

Finally, you typed out a quick message: "Thanks for the food. It was good."

You stared at the screen for a moment, your finger hovering over the send button. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t emotional. It was just an acknowledgment. Before you could overthink it, you hit send.

A few seconds passed, and you saw the notification that the message had been delivered. No reply came immediately, and you didn’t expect one. After all, it wasn’t like this was going to fix things between the two of you. But somehow, sending that simple thank you felt like a tiny weight off your chest, even if it barely scratched the surface of the bigger mess you were still sorting through.

The next morning, Tyler paced around his room, racking his brain for the next move. The takeout had been a start, but he needed to do more. He needed to show you that he hadn’t forgotten the details, even if he’d been too blind to see them before. 

His eyes landed on his phone again, this time opening a florist app. He wasn’t going to send roses. You hated roses. You’d said they were too cliché, something people picked when they didn’t really know the person. He wanted to send something that mattered.

Blue. Your favorite color. You’d mentioned it a few times, and while he didn’t know which flower you loved most, he figured blue would be a safe bet.

He scrolled through the bouquets until he found one that seemed perfect—a mix of blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and white lilies. Simple, beautiful, and meaningful.

When he hit send, his heart pounded. It felt like such a small thing, but at the same time, it felt monumental. He was trying to show you that he was paying attention, that he knew you better than he’d let on.

The knock on the door was unexpected, especially after the Chinese takeout from yesterday. You weren’t sure what to expect this time, but as you opened the door and saw the delivery man holding a bouquet of blue flowers, your heart stuttered.

You took the bouquet, your eyes scanning the shades of blue nestled together in the arrangement. There were no roses—just as you’d once mentioned in passing. Instead, there were lilies, hydrangeas, and forget-me-nots. It was simple but thoughtful. He remembered.

As you set the bouquet on the kitchen counter, you caught sight of a small card tucked between the flowers.

“Not roses, just like you said. I hope you like these instead. –Tyler”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you traced your fingers over the petals. For the first time since leaving the team, something stirred inside you—a mix of gratitude and maybe even the smallest bit of fondness. The forget-me-nots, in particular, caught your attention. They’d always been your favorite, and though you weren’t sure if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence, it felt... special.

You sat down, flowers still in view, and grabbed your phone. Again, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But the flowers were different. They meant something more. He’d thought about this.

After a moment, you started typing: “The forget-me-nots are my favorite, by the way. For future reference…”

You hit send, and for a moment, you almost regretted it. Was that too much? But then you shook your head. No, it was just a small hint. A little crack in the wall you’d built. You weren’t letting him back in, but... you weren’t completely pushing him away either.

When your phone buzzed a few seconds later with a reply, you almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the best of you.

“Noted.”

It was simple, just like your message had been. But there was something in that word—Noted—that made you think maybe, just maybe, Tyler was trying to show that he wasn’t giving up. At least, not yet.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. Another delivery? You stood up, your heart sinking slightly, bracing yourself for yet another gesture you weren’t sure how to interpret. When you opened the door, though, it wasn’t another delivery person—it was Tyler.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Tyler was at your doorstep, looking both determined and vulnerable. He glanced at you, his eyes searching for something, maybe a hint of how you were feeling.

“Hi,” he said softly, as if unsure of how to begin.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from the floor to your eyes. “I know this is probably the last thing you expected, and I know I don’t really have the right to be here. But I needed to see you.”

You stepped aside to let him in, your heart pounding. Tyler walked into the room, glancing around as if trying to take it all in.

“I want to start by saying that I’m truly sorry,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just for leaving like I did, but for not seeing how much I hurt you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s clear that I messed up.”

You watched him, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking both pained and determined. “You know, I’ve been trying to adjust to how things are now, and I’ve realized just how much I miss you. Like, seriously. Boone’s music choices have been driving me nuts. It’s not even that he’s got bad taste, but I keep thinking about how you always knew exactly what songs I liked. And then there was the coffee—Dexter tried to get it for me, and it was all wrong. You always knew how I liked it. It’s the little things that I miss the most.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

Tyler noticed and seemed to take a breath of relief. “And Kate… she’s a great person, but she’s just a professional colleague. I got caught up in this idea we were working on, and I was so intrigued that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. I should have never left the team like that. I’m sorry for that, too.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of hope and desperation. “But the real reason I’m here is because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve had time to think about what I want, and it’s you. I love you. I love how you’re always there for me, how you know my favorite songs, how you care about the little things. I love your smile, your laugh, and even how you get annoyed with me sometimes. I’ve realized all the ways you’ve shown me that you care, and I’ve been blind to it.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Tyler’s eyes were pleading as he awaited your response. When one didn’t come after several moments he sighed. His shoulders tensed, and he began to fidget, anxiety evident in his movements. “Maybe I’ve messed this up. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I should probably just—”

Before he could finish, you stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Don’t,” you said softly. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say something like this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

A smile of pure relief and happiness spread across Tyler’s face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of all the words unspoken, all the emotions unexpressed. It was a kiss full of apologies, regrets, and hope for the future.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, a sense of calm settling over you. “I love you,” you whispered.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he nodded, holding you close. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath. He then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.

As your lips finally part, the soft hum of shared breath fills the space between you. Tyler’s forehead rests gently against yours, both of you lingering in that quiet, electric moment. You’re still standing close to the door, the rush of the kiss slowly giving way to a deeper warmth—something steady and grounding. His thumb brushes along your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as though he’s memorizing every detail of this moment.

You both stand there for a beat longer, neither in a hurry to move or speak. But then, Tyler’s eyes drift past you, landing on the bouquet of blue flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. His lips curl into a smile, a playful glint flickering in his eyes.

“I see the flowers made the cut,” he teases, his voice soft but with that familiar hint of humor. He steps back just enough to point toward them. “Did I do okay?”

You glance over your shoulder at the flowers and then back at him with a smile. “You did more than okay,” you say warmly. “But I think I still owe you a proper thank you.”

His brows arch in interest. “A proper thank you, huh?”

Before he can respond, you reach up, pulling him back down into another kiss, this one slower, more certain, like you’re sealing the promise of something new between you.

[threepandas]

Bad End, Hidden Heir: Part 2

Prev <-

A pounding headache and cave air, that's what I woke up too. The air was being choked, though, by familiar scents. All trying desperately to make the cold, wet, and softly echoing quiet, hospitable. It was nauseating in my current state. Weak and... drugged? Had I been drugged? I certainly hadn't been drunk.

So why did my head hurt so much?

Why did every motion, make my stomach want to rebel?

My limbs felt so WEAK. Heavy and useless. Barely budging when I try to lift them. To rub my head? Adjust the blanket? Sit up? I can't tell. Thinking... thinking is so hard past... the pounding in my head. The fog. I struggle to concentrate. God, that SMELL.

Like a perfume store combined with... with... ugh. Everything!

I could pick out individual scents I knew I liked, on their own, added to the nauseating chaos. My favorite potpourri was there. But so was the one I like for winter? Fall? That one I liked as a kid until I found Mrs. Tianna's blend...

And perfumes! Colognes! The clean products and scents I preferred the maids used. God it... it blended together like a trash heap. As though someone drove a carriage through a perfume shop at speed. Cloying and musk and spice and fruity and-!

I sucked air through my teeth, trying not to smell it, hoping to god I wouldn't TASTE it.

Finally I managed to pry my eyes open. Either hunger or thirst giving my the strength to push past the nauseating pain. I NEEDED to move. Find out what was happening. Survive.

My gaze... met the most elaborate embroidery I had ever seen. Tapestries had less art. Almost to the point of gaudiness. Possibly past it. It was...

It was everything I had ever said I liked.

Too anyone.

Puppies and flowers, history and art, books scenes and more. It kept GOING! Hideous and magnificent. Chaos. Unhinged. Flowing down from above me, along the rest of the curtains, for the canopy bed upon which I rest. So I would be surrounded by it all. Even the blanket... it was a sea of my favorite flowers, made eternal through string.

This wasn't something people just DID. Could just FIND. I could feel my panic under the muting pain and exhaustion. This was the work of YEARS. Obsessive, continuous, YEARS. Some of these threads cost more then certain house hold make in WEEKS! And for what? A secret canopy bed?!

I struggled, body barely able to obey me but trying desperately to assist. The blankets were heavy. The curtain around the bed equally so, thanks to all the embroidery. I.. I manage to roll. Squirm. Wriggle my way, undignified, to the edge. Flop over it and out from under the blanket. Too freedom.

The air is cold.

The scents WORSE out here. Now, I can see why.

It is a museum to all that I am. Every like carefully gathered in one place, every preference. Stacked and shoved together, with no regard for if they fit. Hoarded like a collection.

I can not even tell... if I am sitting, flopped down, on my favorite winter bedside carpet or just an exact copy. My entire life is shoved together and suddenly... suddenly I do not like any of these things at all. They feel dirty. Dangerous. Like they have betrayed me. I want to cry.

But I am nauseous. Hurting. Tired and thirsty. So very hungry dispite it all. I just... I just need to know what's going ON! This isn't... this isn't how the Game goes! Not for Protag-chan. Not for me! I know I changed my "character's" behavior... but...

I... I don't understand...

Try not to cry. It's... it's really hard.

I was right. I'm pretty sure this is the Caves of Spring in the northwest of the Duchy. The offical Heir has an estate near them. The stone looks like the cliffs I'd seen in passing.

Crawling is hard. My legs keep getting tangled in my fucking nightgown. My... my f.. favorite.. nightgown! I'm not gonna cry. Damn it. I'm NOT GONNA CRY. How dare he? How DARE he ruin even that? What did he DO to me!? When I was... was...

No, don't think about it!

Move.

A decanter. Needlessly pretty. I probably loved it as a girl, fresh into this world. Everything was so FANCY and I wasn't used to having money yet. Hadn't developed any real class or taste. It looks so fucking gaudy to me now. But God, it has water. Please... PLEASE let that be water!

I drag myself up on badly shaking limbs. Nothing wants to hold. Wrists buckling, knees giving, legs shaking like a new born lamb. My arms are so weak. But thirst... oh thirst is a powerful motivator.

I force myself to move.

The water is not enough. It is everything. Cold and perfect, I force myself to go slow. To not spill a single drop, as I collapse against the dresser it was placed upon. Letting my eyes explore my cage in the way my poor abused body can not.

There are thick bars buried deep into the bedrock, separating the "room" I'm in from the hall that leads away from it. And it IS a "room". Made in cruel mockery to resemble the luxury of the dukes estate. Perhaps even more aggressively decadent in certain aspects, though that isn't a good thing. It makes it border on a storage room, for how crowded with luxury it has become.

It is the reflection of an unwell mind.

And staring up at the portraits of myself I KNOW I never sat for? The countless sketches pinned up beyond the bars? I am in trouble. I... I should have run. Not sent Creep away. I should have been the one to run. Before it was too late.

I think... I think it might be too late.

Footsteps.

I want to escape. But where can I run? I am caged. I feel close and far away. My head hurts. My body hurts. Everything stinks and I am cold. Why? Why did you do this? The foot steps are calm and commanding. Even. They do not break stride.

I do not bother to watch my hunter approach me. The monster I can not escape.

I close my eyes to spare myself the pounding in my head. Drink more water.

He makes a softly dismayed sound, as though he was not the one to drug me, to leave me here. The door to my cage opens. Closes. Ah... such a heavy lock. Should I be flattered?

Crisp steps, the rustle of fabric.

"My lady, the floor is so dirty! You shouldn't be out of bed yet. I was just about to make you tea."

The AUDACITY.

Tea? TEA! Ha ha! After DRUGGING my tea? He actually expects me to accept a cup from him again?! He truely IS insane, isn't he?

I am scooped up without my consent, unable to so much a truely struggle. Placed gently on a plush chair, a tea table moved in front of me. A familiar cup. My favorite blend. Pretty little snacks laid out deftly on lovely little plates. I grit my teeth. Slowly tip my head up to glare.

He pauses when our eye meet... then shudders, some terrible look of pleasure dancing across his face.

"That's right... look at me~" he whispers, leaning entirely too close. "I'm all that you have now. So you'll HAVE too now! No more others. No more distractions. No more sending me away! People trying to get between us. Trying to take you away. I'm all that you need, My Lady. All you'll EVER need."

"Just look at ME, your loyal dog. And I'll take such good care of you. I promise~♡"

[cyber-night]

Fyodor needs help sometimes even if he doesn't want it

Content Warnings: Self-neglect, degradation, humiliation, (Neither of which are particularly "sexy" it's more just Fyodor being put in his place through his own stupidity), this... isn't healthy for Anyone...

no smut today, sorry :( there Is a part 2 to this with smut. So if you want to see the pathetic, problematic, and malnourished, twink getting railed come back in a bit :3

You sigh as you look at Fyodors pill bottle. You'd recently put a cap on it that had a timer telling when it had last been opened. You suspected that he hadn't been taking his meds. The timer showed that it had been over two days since Fyodor had taken his medication, and even then, he only took it because you brought it to him.

You head up to his computer room where you find him hunched over his keyboard, typing away at lines of code. "Hey Fedya?" He hums as if he hears you but isn't listening. You continue anyway. "You haven't taken your meds in a few days... how are you feeling?"

"Fine," He says without looking up from typing. "When's the last time you got up to eat or use the bathroom?" You ask worriedly. Fyodor sighs. "I do not need you babying me. I can care for myself, you know." He says flatly. "You haven't taken your meds in two days... I worry about you. When's is the last time you slept in a bed and not at your desk?" He stops typing and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not all of us get to sit around and do nothing you know some of us have actual work to do." This makes you pause irritation boiling under your skin. "Excuse me? I do plenty thank you very much. I'm the only one who does anything around here." You snap he has never been this expressly disrespectful to you. "You do nothing but annoy me and take me away from my work! I don't need your help! I realize you are too dumb to understand how important what I'm doing is, but you can at least have the decency to let me do it. As for what you do around here, you do nothing but take up space and money!" He snaps angrily you pause your eyes wide, all the times you've made sure he had water and tea as he worked, made sure he was eating, brought him food if he hadn't eaten yet, brought him his meds, all of that to him was simply an interruption? An irritation? Not to mention you took care of most of the chores, though he helped with a few such as the trash ...Fine then if that's how he saw it. "Very well, then I'll stop." You sat icily your eyes narrowed. "Since you will be fine without me helping, I'll leave you be." He seems pleased at that. "Good." Is all he says before he turns back to his monitors. You don't hesitate to turn and leave.

True to your words the next four? Maybe five days? You don't do anything for him. You knew when you two started dating, he needed something akin to a caretaker as he was oblivious to his own health, unable to feel hunger, thirst, or even exhaustion the way most do. It stemmed from his autism and you were willing to help him out of love for him. You never thought you'd have that affection thrown back at you in such a volatile way. You haven't seen him for a few days making no effort to seek him out.

You are sitting in the living room reading a book quietly when he stumbles in. He looks terrible. He hasn't showered in about two weeks at this point, hasn't had his meds in a week, and God knows when the last time he ate was. You only barely glance at him before returning to your book. You watch him lean against the counter as he makes his way to where his meds are stored. Once he get his hands on them, he looks at the caps timer, showing him its been almost a week since he's taken them. His hands shake as he struggles to open the pill bottle, the childproof cap, making it impossible for him when he's this weak. You watch him from over the edge of your book. He is genuinely struggling, but you can also tell he's putting on a bit of a show to garter pity from you to make you feel bad for leaving him to fend for himself. You don't give him any instead of going back to actually reading flipping the page. After quite a bit of time, he finally stumbles over to you and holds the bottle out to you. "Open this." He says gruffly. "You don't need my help. You should be fine." You say not looking up at him though you can see his hand trembling in your peripheral. Your words make him pause.

He tries to open the bottle again with no luck he stands there swaying slightly, his pride not letting him admit he was wrong or that he needs help. He tries to pull your book down, but he is too weak to succeed. You watch him sway again before he crumples at your feet, the pills bottle rolling away from him. You still don't look up from your book as you flip the page. If he wants anything from you, he needs to put his pride aside. He sits there, trembling at your feet for a few minutes before weakly whispering, "I'm sorry..." It's makes you laugh a little inside. "Pardon? I didn't hear what you said. Would you like to repeat that?" You ask without looking up from your book. "I'm sorry..." You nod. "Hmm, that's a start. What are you sorry for?" His eyes are unfocoused, and he's barely keeping himself upright. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"And?"

"...And I was wrong."

"About?"

"I was wrong, I do need you..." You nod again as you flip the page. "Yes, you do, don't you." He waits for a moment before he continues "...Are you going to help me now?" You laugh finally closing your book. "And why would I do that? You've done the bare minimum." Fyodors eyes widen, "please..." He whispers weakly. "Please, what?" You ask with a smirk as you watch him sway on his knees. "Convince me." He takes a shakey breath. I'm looking like he might cry. "Please help me... I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can't... I can't take care of myself right now." You tilt his head back so you can observe him better. "It's almost a pity I have to put you back together... I kind of like you like this. Weak and pathetic, not that you aren't weak and pathetic normally, but... it's just you look pretty when your half way from deaths doorstep." He whines a hint of fear in his eyes. Sure, he could kill you with a touch, but the idea that he is weak and pathetic normally makes him uncomfortable. "I really should make you work for my help... but I'm feeling... Generous. So instead, I'll only make you beg. Sit back on your knees and put your hands up to your chest like a dog. I want to see you beg like one. After all, I have to care for you like a pet."

Fyodor shudders but does it his body barely stable for very long as he holds his hands up in an imitation of paws he looks at you, embarrassment evident in his face. "Good enough, I guess." You sigh idly, he whimeprs, letting his body relax so he doesn't fall further to the floor he rests his forehead on your knee. "Please~" He whispers meakly. Finally, you move him onto the couch and lay him down with a sigh.

You go get his meds, water, and soup since you don't trust him to keep solid food down right now. You come back to him asleep, and you almost feel bad about having to wake him up, but you know you need to. He needs to eat and drink. You carefully nudge him awake and set about nursing your brilliant moron of a boyfriend back to health. You wake him up not as gently as you usually would. You shove the pills into his mouth, then yank his head back and force him to drink, double tapping his cheek once he swallows. "T-thank you... my love..." You help him eat the soup since his hands tremble. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you simply listened to me, you know." You sigh as you pet his hair the soup bowl finally empty "If you had just been a good boyfriend and accepted my care you would fine, but no you have to be a selfish stubborn brat." He looks up at you with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll try and be better..."

You shake your head and sigh, carrying him to lay down in bed. A shower will have to wait till tomorrow. "Sleep, you can make it up to me tomorrow, Fedya." He nods and nuzzles into you, clinging to you out of anxiety that you'll abandon him again. You kiss his forehead as he drifts off.

[scarrletmoon]

About Powder Blue

This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.

If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!

I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.

I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.

I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.

Anyway.

I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.

The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.

That's not what happened.

The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.

Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild

(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).

Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.

At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.

It didn't work.

Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.

During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.

So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.

I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.

The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in. I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.

That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.

I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.

One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.

My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.

Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.

BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.

And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.

Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.

If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.

So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.

Love,

Scarr

[they-call-me-emmy]

The Past is The Past 3

Part 1 and 2 on my account <3

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tara was faced with her 3 ghostface, and this time got so seriously injured she was in a coma. When she wakes up, she has no memory of the past 3 years...including you, her girlfriend.

Notes: Imagine this as our gals scream 7...since Jenna apparently quit and left me fucking DYING

Warnings: Uh, injury, violence, blood, our boy ghostyface with knives. Coma and memory loss if thats even a warning. Swearing. Uhm. Shitty 7th grade writing.

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

Tara pushed the food around her plate using her fork. She'd barely eaten a bite all dinner, busy glaring at Sam and avoiding any sort of eye contact with Y/N.

"So." Sam began, putting a hand to her mouth and pausing, to finish chewing. "Y/N. How's life been treating you? I haven't seen you around in a while."

There was a second of silence as Y/N finished her food.

"Fine." She stated, setting her fork down on her napkin. "Work's been rough, but nothing besides that."

Sam nodded. "You work at that bookstore, right? The one with the bunny in the window? I drive by it on my way to the grocery store."

Tara had no idea what they were talking about. She hadn't gone shopping since she'd come home. What bookstore? What bunny? It was like listening to people speaking nonsense.

"Yeah. That's the one. Shifts have been longer recently, we're low on staff."

Sam nodded, continuing to eat. Y/N cleared her throat.

"Tara," Tara startled from her daze at the sound of her name, in Y/N's voice no less. "Sam's been telling me your getting back into horror? Is that true?"

Tara glared at Sam.

"I've always been into horror."

Y/N nodded, pursing her lips, sensing the tension in the room. The need to just...not talk.

"I was-" Y/N cleared her throat and took a sip of water. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to watch some of your favorites...y'know, the few we watched in the last year you really enjoyed? I wouldn't mind re-watching them with you."

Tara couldn't help but feel weird. She's watched movies with this girl. She'd watched horror movies. She'd watched horror movies and enjoyed them. With this girl? This girl she hardly knew now?

"Maybe."

Y/N nodded.

"I've been busy lately." Tara pushed a cooked carrot into her napkin. She didn't like those.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Tara, you've been sitting on your ass for the past week-"

Tara suddenly stood up. "I'm finished. I'm going to go wash the dishes." She took Sam and Y/N's plates and left without another word.

Tara knew they'd talk the moment she left. She hovered at the door, running the sink in the background so they'd think she was cleaning. Maybe they'd mention the big thing tonight. Maybe they'd say something that would finally help her understand her past.

"I'm sorry she's being an ass." Sam's voice was muffled through the kitchen door.

"It's fine. I wasn't expecting a heartwarming welcome. I mean, come on, I'm practically a stranger to her. And it's hard on her too, Sam. Remember she's struggling too."

Tara would have felt mad if anyone else had said this, as if they pitied her and felt sorry for her state of mind. But hearing those words, those words in Y/N's sweet voice...felt like reassurance that someone understand how she'd been struggling.

"I know...I'm trying to get her to...connect. Y'know? Re-enforce those bonds...god, you two were like peas in a pod. I can't imagine how long it'll take for that to be back, especially with her new...attitude." Sam sounded empathetic, but there was still a twinge of annoyance in her voice.

"I'm not expecting it to just click again...but I can wait. I'm assuming you haven't told her?" Y/N asked.

Tara could feel her heart beat a little faster. Was this it? Was she about to learn what this secret was that everyone seemed so desperate to avoid?

"No. I don't feel like it's the right time. I mean, you see the way she is. Putting that much more pressure on her is bound to do no good."

"You have to tell her at some point." Y/N said. "You and her would both prefer you telling her rather then her randomly learning one day, or even worse, getting a flash of memory from it. The doctor did say those happen, especially with traumatic experiences, at least in her case."

"I don't feel like now is the right time."

"Soon, Sam. Please. The girl deserves to know. This is important."

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

I'm a slut for comments people.

[hansumswife]

ᴛᴏᴜʀ

chris sturniolo x angelina hamilton

chapter one

ALL OTHER PARTS

sturniolo.triplets

Liked by SkylarHamilton, MattSturniolo and 583,726 others...

sturniolotriplets TOUR DATES! TICKETS GO ON SALE AUGUST 9TH 2:30 PST 5:30 EST! Excited to see you guys 🦌🦈🦇

nicksturniolo Bats on top 🦇🦇🦇

chrissturniolo 🦌

user crying from europe

-> skylarhamilton ME TOO GIRL!! 😭😭

user BUYING TICKETS RIGHT NOW?!!?!!!!!

user raaah they all look so good 😍😍😍

skylarhamilton praying to god you just randomly switch up and come to the uk 🙏🙏🙏

-> sturniolotriplets Another time maybe 🤷‍♂️

-> skylarhamilton SCREAMING WHAT

-> skylarhamilton NICK PLS BE YOU I LOVE YOU 💕💖💗💞

-> nicksturniolo Love you more!!

-> skylarhamilton I DIED.

user Y'ALL IM SO EXCITED

user THRE CMIS TO MY CIY WTF OMG IM ROLNG ONIUA  TE FLOOR I CAT BREATHE HELp

-> mattsturniolo Lmao me too

user WHY ARE THE TRIPLETS SO CASUAL LMAOO ITS SCARY

user id beg my mom to go but she just wouldn’t let me 🥲🥲👎

user THE TICKETS ARE BOUGHT

mattsturniolo See y'all there 👋👋

Skylar Hamiltons birthday had been hectic already and it was only lunch time. First of all Skylar had woken up way before Angelina which was unplanned as Angelina had saved the decorations for the morning, the girls cake hadn't been finished by the bakery, some of her presents still hadn't come in the mail and most of the teenagers friends hadn't knocked at the door to join her party.

Angelina had tried her very best to make do with what they had. Turning blowing balloons up into a 'party game', picking up a cake that didn't fit the theme from the stores instead, and was currently trying her best to make a fun party even though only three out of the twelve girls invited had shown up.

What annoyed the siblings was that they had notice. It wasn't like it was a rushed invitation that had been handed out at the start of the week. No, in-fact they had invited people at least two months before to know what to prepare for, the girls who hadn't shown up had been in the group-chat that was made and were seemingly excited about it all.

But what pissed off Angelina more than it did Skylar, was that the girls who didn't show up were hanging out together and posting it on their public stories on every possible social media account possible. Lord knows she was damn near pulling up and screaming in their faces, but she kept herself calm.

So Angelina sat on the sofa and watched Skylar and her three friends; Jess, Sophia and Charlie. They were currently playing a stupid game one of them had bought over. It was some type of card game that had them rolling on the floor in laughter, so Angelina couldn't complain.

All she was waiting for now was the doorbell to ring. Her phone sat on her thigh, refreshing her texts every few seconds (sometimes minutes as she would zone out or get distracted by the teenagers in-front of her).

Once the doorbell rang she would be able to collect Skylars main present, the one she had bought not too long ago after doing quite a lot of research after the teenagers ramble in the kitchen one morning a few weeks ago.

"That's not even funny! I'm just— I'm—!" A cackle tuned itself in too Angelinas ears. Jess was struggling to catch a breath whilst speaking, Skylar and Sophia were both laid back on the carpeted floor with their hands on their stomach. The sound of laughter not even escaping their mouths as they were laughing that hard. Angelina smiled to herself, snapping a few pictures of the three that she would make sure to send to them all like she had been doing all night.

The TV played quietly behind them, a youtube video playing of the brothers their car, discussing something random topic each time Angelina would pass by. Skylar seemed to enjoy their channel a lot, along with the friends sat in the living room, and Angelina didn't really watch any youtube at all so she was open to anything. She would consider herself a 'fan' but not like the type she's seen occasionally on her for you page.

The dark skinned girl snapped out of her thoughts as the doorbell rung, the teenagers in-front of her not even noticing in the midst of their fit of laughter. Angelina stood up and walked towards the door where her friend, Maya, stood behind the wood.

Maya smiled towards Angelina, "Hey! How are you?"

"I'm good you? You have the thing?"

"Yeah I'm good, and of course." Maya smiled towards the dark skinned girl. Lifting the small, sealed envelope that was sat in her hand. "I would stay but I gotta run, tell Skye I said happy birthday!"

Angelina nodded with a smile, shouting a 'thanks' as the girl walked back towards her car, shutting the door and moving back into the living room. The group of teenagers were now sat on the sofas, the TV's volume turned up slightly as they were all focused on the current video playing.

Charlie looked up as Angelina walked in, "Hey, where'd you go?”

"Got something for the birthday girl." Angelina smiled, gently chucking the envelope onto her sisters lap which caused Skylar's eyes to drift downwards and her eyebrows to raise.

"What is it?" Skylar questioned, Angelina only shrugging in response and plopping herself down on the other sofa. Sophia and Charlie only smiled as they encouraged the girl to open the envelope quicker.

Inside the envelope was a small sheet of paper, small graphics decorating it. "Read it out then!" Sophia sighed, nudging Skylar in the ribs. Skylar only beamed a bright smile after skimming through the note.

"Dear Skylar, you are invited to the Sturniolo triplets verses tour in Orlando Florida on the eighteenth of October. Unluckily for you, your sister will be joining you but I hope you have a good time. Your flight leaves in three days, get packing."

The four girls squealed all together, jumping up and down in a small group huddle. Skylar separating herself from the other three and jumping onto Angelina, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome Skye, just know you're doing the dishes for three days."

tags: @st7rnioioss @its-jennarose @timmyscomputer @kriissy4gov @liz-stxrn @sunrisemill @mattssluttywaist @riasturns @mx0qin @junnniiieee07 @sturnzsblog @mattslolita @ariieeesworld @alorsxsturn @nonameisthegameandilovejake

[purplestars222]

Insomnia part 2

part 1 part 2

(miguel x gn, plus size reader)

summary of part 1; Miguel has always had a thing for you, even though you won't admit it, so when he found out you hadn't been at work for a week, he came to check up on you. When he got to your house, he knew something was up, your house was a mess, it normally was pretty clean. After holding you while you sobbed on the floor, Miguel helped you have a shower, he also cleaned your room a bit and made your bed. You ended up falling asleep in his arms, feeling happy for once.

sorry in advance for my spanish

cw; slight mentions of an eating disorder, smut, mirror sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it irl guys :))

a/n; unedited! will edit it tmr after i finish ren faire, this will be removed when editing is finished

my first time writing smut :)

You sigh as your alarm goes off, no miguel in your bed, and no trace of him. Last night was just a dream, unfortunately, but at least it had you feeling okay enough to shower. You strip off, and put a red, silk nightgown on, and head for the bathroom, as soon as you step out of your room, you see Miguel o'hara. In your kitchen. Cooking homemade pancakes

"Sit, they're nearly ready"

You silently walk up to the kitchen bench, and take a seat on one of the stools, The food smells absolutely amazing, which is actually making you wanna eat again. Miguel serves some on a plate, with strawberries, whipped cream and maple syrup, he sits next to you, with his own plate

"Sleep okay, princesa?"

God. hes so nice, which is weird for him. You start to wonder if he wants something.

"Yeah fine.... why are you here miguel?"

"To make sure you're okay. Clearly, you aren't, so i'm staying until you are."

"Please just go, i'm really not worth it." you struggled to hold back your tears

“Excuse me?" his eyes darkened, he sounded offended

"I'm really not worth it, i appreciate it, but just go. I'll be back at work as soon as i can."

He grabs you by the chin, making you look up at him "Don't say that."

"And why not?"

"Because you are worth it. Do you really not know how pretty you are? do i need to show you, cariño?"

You felt your face heat up, You've been waiting for this.

"Y-yes?"

He connects your lips within seconds, not giving you a chance to protest. You melt into his arms, it felt like they were made to hold you, and only you. He scoops you up, as if you weigh nothing and takes you to your room, plopping you down on the bed, you notice his sweatpants have formed a tent, you go to reach for his pants but he stops you

"Shh, not yet cariño"

you whince as he undoes your nightgown, the cold morning air hitting your nipples

Miguel wastes no time , starting to lick and suck on one of your nipples while he massages your other tit. You entangle your fingers in his curls, slightly pulling whenever his fangs grazed your tit. After a few minutes of you whimpering and moaning he starts placing kisses down your belly, till he gets to your heat. He spreads your legs, groaning at the sight " tan hermosa.. "

he licks from your hole to your clit, groaning at the taste

"So wet for me, conejita"

"Mhh- miguel, please, i need you..."

He starts attacking your clit with his tongue, inserting a finger and curling it upwards

"Fuck-! " Your soft thighs squeeze his head, he grabs onto them so they cant move

He eventually adds a second, then a third, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock. Your thighs start quivering "M-miguel- gonna cum-"

He lifts his head up, not even bothering to wipe your arousal off his chin. You whine at the loss off contact. He stands up and takes his shirt off, then his pants, he lifts you up, and sits you on his lap, facing your mirror. You turn your head to the side, not wanting to look at your body, He grabs your chin and makes you look

"I need you to see how pretty you look cariño"

"But i-"

He shoves two fingers in your mouth, you can taste your sweetness on him. You wrap your tongue skillfully around his fingers. After another minute he pulls them out, using that hand to lube up his tip a little

"Are you ready, conejita? Go at your own pace, i don't want you to hurt yourself"

You nod, being slightly nervous, his cock was huge. about 9 inches. He lifts you up and lines his tip up to your entrance. you slowly lower yourself down onto him, taking in the first 4 inches, it feels amazing, so you lower yourself all the way.

Miguel groans and starts bucking his hips up into you

"M-miguel- feels s'good"

He lifts you up and starts fucking into you at a steady pace, already on the brink of orgasm from before, your pussy clenches around him

"F-Fuck, cariño gonna cum for me like a good girl?"

You scream his name as your walls clench even more around him, He guves you a couple of seconds, but then continues to fuck into you, faster than before

"Keep going for me princesa, i know you can do it" he places some soft kisses on the back of your neck, his fangs grazing against your skin. He suddenly bites into you, it dosent feel as you expected, its blissful. Its amazing. Nobody has ever made you feel like this before, and miguel wasn't gonna let you forget that.

His pace starts to falter, you can tell hes getting close

"Cum in me, miguel. Breed me like the slut i am" That drove him over the edge, you felt his cock twitch inside of you as he shot thick ropes of cum into you.

You had no idea why you said that, You did have a breeding kink, but you werent sure if you were ready yet

Miguel pulls out, you whine as your pussy clenches around nothing

"Did you really mean that? You wanna have my child?" he whispers, biting your earlobe and pulling it slightly

"I'd love to." you smile and rest your head against his back

[middlingmay]

Horse Trainer Gale x Veteran Buck AU Part 2

Read Part I here.

John's not at the hospital long. He doesn't need surgery or even so much as a stitch.

The psychiatrists who'd been on him ever since his ma spilled the beans about his struggles after coming home from the Air Force finally ease up when he tells them about Cleven Ranch, and that another vet is going to take him there once he's out and up and around. He isn't 100% sure he's going to take Curt up on his offer, but if it gets them off his back.

But then he sees his ma's relief and that convinces him to at least think about it a little more before writing it off entirely.

He and Curt meet up as soon as walking around doesn't feel like dragging a sack full of bruises around.

He tells himself he'll ask Curt about the Ranch but can't quite bring himself to. And it turns out they have plenty to talk about anyway. They swap stories, some lighter, some morbid and they laugh at them anyway. Curt tells him about how his brief encounter with the Air Force during an evac had him bailing out over Scotland, and John tells him about the time Benny smuggled a dog home from Iceland and made him everybody's problem.

It becomes a regular thing. They meet up at bars and restaurants and cafes. They go to a few local sports games. Curt eventually meets John's ma. He'd been frightened to meet her after practically running her son over, but she sweeps him into a hug because she's seen more of her son in the last few weeks than she has since he's been back. What are a few bruises compared to that?

A couple of months go by before John bites the bullet as says to Curt, "So this ranch. Is it a bunch of hippy dippy docs gettin' ya to weave straw baskets and daisy chains, and wanting you to talk about your feelings?"

Curt snorts at him. "Sure. If by that you mean shovelling wheelbarrows full of shit - literal wheelbarrows - and labouring in the middle of the afternoon in the heat, with the most uncommunicative man you're ever going to meet."

And John smells a scam. Some rancher using vets struggling with civilian life for free labour under the guise of therapy. Or, he would have, if Curt hadn't looked so damn sincere. And Curt doesn't strike him as someone easy to fool. Or someone who'd tolerate it.

She he gives in and agrees to visit and see what it's like. Curt picks him up and John's ma sends them off with a thermos full of coffee, a full crumb cake, and sandwiches laden heavy with fillings.

God John loves her.

It takes over an hour to get there. John's silent on the ride and Curt lets him be.

Eventually, they pull up a dirt track through land choc full of fields and paddocks and woody patches. It's a decent stretch of land - a few acres at least.

The main building is a generous stone cottage, and there's an eve bigger two-storey barn right next door. Curt tells him the barn is mostly accommodation for clients and storage, and the cottage is for meals, socialising and is where Gale sleeps - as well as any staff who needs bed for the night. The stables with the horses are further into the property, and John feels relief at that and tries not to let it show.

Curt stops a woman and asks where Gale is. She's beautiful and holds herself like a General or two John has known in his time. When she clocks John she turns to Curt and says, "This him?"

So it's also the day he finds out Curt is a total gossip.

Marge sends them into the barn. It's not too busy. Mostly full of people working: carrying, fixing and cleaning things. Others simply talk it up, or sit squashed into corners scribbling in journals.

Right at the back is a man surrounded by equestrian equipment. He looks up when they approach and John tries not to swallow his own tongue.

Because this alone is worth the trip. This might be the most beautiful man John's ever seen.

He has golden hair and tanned skin dotted with dark spots that make John want to play connect the dots. His lips are pursed around a toothpick. His jaw is sharp, his neck slender and long, and he has good wide shoulders and long legs encased in denim that had no business wrapping around a man's ass like that.

There there are his eyes. John has seen the bluest skies and flown over the bluest oceans, and not one of them were as bright and crystal clear as Gale's eyes.

"Right, Bucky." Curt elbows him and John comes back to earth. Gale's assessing him, up and down, and John is faced with the rare urge to shy away.

Curt rolls his eyes and introduces them properly. John is so distracted by the length of Gale's fingers and the grace of his hands and the low timbre of his voice as he tells John it's nice to meet him, that it takes a minute to sink in.

"Cleven? As in Cleven Ranch?"

Gale nods. "That's right. S'my ranch."

And John could cry because of course he's found the most beautiful creature on this earth, only to find out he's essentially long to be his therapist if he sticks with this.

And he needs to stick with this. He can't keep doing this to his ma.

Gale takes one look at John's shoulders and he's smothering a smile and beckoning John to follow him. John's feet obey without his input.

Gale leads them outside to a pile of strong wooden beams, and tells them they're building a medical station for the horses to treat any minor issues that come up.

Curt and John are put to work loading the beams onto a truck and then dragging them off again and onto the build site.

And because John is a social sort, he talks to everyone and learns that most of his assumptions about this place are wrong.

Gale isn't a therapist. he's genuinely just a rancher and business owner. No one here is forced to talk, and if they want to it's normally to each other.

The idea behind the place is the hard physical work it takes to keep it running tires out the body and quietens the mind, Then, over time, this helps people reach the emotional stability required to work with the horses. They dook donations, not fees, and people were only required to pay if they stayed the night - for food and utilities.

John also learns that Gale rarely speaks and rarely socialises with the clients. But he's everyone's favourite and leads by a steady, confident example that folks here wanted to follow.

Throughout the afternoon John catches Gale watching, or working nearby. Curt sees it too and looks at him funny. But when he calls out for Gale to join them, Gale ducks his head and shuffles off.

At the end of the day when Curt's saying his goodbyes and John's waiting for him by his car, his sun is blocked out and he looks up to see Gale with his hands in his pockets (seriously, how do they fit in jeans that tight?), rocking on the heels of his boots.

John, unusually tongue-ties only manages a garbled "Hey." But it makes Gale smile at his boots and look up at him through gold flecked lashes.

After a few moments of silence, as John's brain screams at him to say something, Gale asks, "What do you think of the ranch?"

"It's not what I thought it'd be, I'll admit." And when John tells Gale about what he had expected - all the emotional poking and prodding he wasn't comfortable with - Gale rolls his eyes but can't fight down a little laugh.

"I can't imagine anything worse," he says. "People prying into a man's business like that."

John thinks it's a good thing, too. if it's Gale doing the asking, he might just tell him anything.

"You, uh," Gale kicks some gravel around. "You think you'll come back? Looked like you were getting on with everyone."

John tries not to look smug that Gale has been paying attention to him so much today. So instead he smiles crooked, his dimples running deep on one side, and says, "Count on it, Buck. I'll be here."

[callumsgirl]

ONE SHOT

strawberries and dirty talk (pt. 2)

or: Bucky surprises Gale with another weekend pass. A little hopeful spark in John's mind lights up and gives him an romantic and crazy idea: Why should it be all temporary and hidden with him and Buck when they both deserved so much?

It had been a long, exhausting few weeks. Between all the breakneck, dangerous missions over Germany, where more of John's friends were shot than he could count. It had been a constant dance with the devil and death. A power struggle that was different every day and a single moment could change and decide everything.

Every pain he felt, every blow he took and every enemy plane he shot out of the sky. Even though he was exhausted and at the end of his rope, it was Gale who kept him alive.

John had finally found a piece of peace in all this chaos - his own reason to survice all of this god damn war...Gale was worth it.

It had taken all his charm and persuasive arguments to talk Colonel Harding into a weekend pass for him and Major Cleven. Harding had slid into his leather chair, grumbling, with a cigar between his lips, and had finally waved him away with a gesture of surrender. Bucky hadn't been able to wipe the broad grin off his lips that morning. Nothing could dampen his spirits, not even when only 11 of the 21 planes that had taken off returned to base.

A soothing and calming warmth had spread throughout his body when he walked into the canteen and saw Buck sitting there. Almost completely alone, his head bowed and a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. One of his arms was resting over the back of the chair next to him and with the other hand he was shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. But as John came closer, his footsteps getting louder, Gale raised his eyes - almost automatically - and that small, barely visible twitch of the corners of his mouth almost made Bucky go crazy.

The urge to circle the table, to pull Gale up from that uninspiring wooden chair and just kiss him almost overwhelmed him. This urge was so strong that it squeezed all the air out of his lungs and his chest suddenly felt terribly constricted. God...he got my fully heart and soul, Bucky thougt. He's only smiling at me and i go crazy.

While fragments of him and Buck danced around in front of his inner eyes, he cleared his throat instead and dropped into the chair opposite him.

"Mornin' Major…" Gale had murmured in a pleasantly low voice, looking at him under half-lowered eyelids. The blue of his eyes so bright, warm and engaging that John's heart threatened to explode in his chest.

Unobtrusively, their feet had touched under the table, bumping against each other, and Bucky had smiled as if drunk.

"I've got a surprise for you," he'd said, and Gale hadn't let his curiosity get the best of him, but John had noticed the way Buck's fingertips had tightened around the back of the chair beside him and his pink lips had parted.

Gale had raised an unimpressed eyebrow and pushed a toothpick between his lips: "Oh yeah? Tell me, Bucky"

That had been the start of everything and John had come out with the tingling truth. Harding got them permission to left the base for a few days for recovery. Afterwards, they had both packed their bags, joking around with Bubble and Crosby before they thrown their bags into the back of John's jeep and driven out of the barracks.

A contented sigh escaped Bucky's lips as the thoughts and memories of the past 24 hours rolled over in his head. His mind was in chaos and his thoughts blurred, dancing salsa and leaving nothing but a warm, sluggish feeling in his body.

It was saturday morning, 6:30 a.m. and the sun rised slowly. The sky was painted in different shades of red, orange and pink, and it was almost silent outside. The only noice was coming from singing birds through the open windows and a light breeze blew the curtains in gentle waves. There could be nothing more beautiful John thought in the moment when he finally woke up.

Looking at the sky almost staying in flames...there couldn't be much better.

Being pressed against Gale's sleepy-warmth and bare skin, his palm laying on his stomach and his fingertips drawing circles. The white sheets around their legs and hips, a total mess, but it didn't boather Bucky at all.

He blinked sleepily and looked around the bedroom. There were clothes all over the floor and he couldn't help but smile happily.

The last 24 hours felt like a distant dream that was finally within his grasp. Bucky didn't need to be told twice and reached for it when Harding agreed to let him and Buck go. Not forever, but for a while.

Now that he had Gale all to himself, time could stand still. He was pretty sure he could stay in this small, hidden house by the lake forever. As long as he could feel Buck's body against his, hear his heartbeat and taste his sweet lips, this twisted world was all right with him.

Sighing, he buried his face in the crook of Gale's neck again. His lips brushed over the soft, sensitive skin and John noticed how Gale presses closer to him, still half asleep.

Circles, unrecognizable patterns … His fingertips traced out lifeless lines and shapes on Gale's skin. He savored the peace and quiet and the fact that Buck lay beside him in bed, completely relaxed and healthy.

There were only a few bruises on his chest and a lightred scar on his cheek. In a few days or weeks, it would all be gone. It would just be a shadowy memory in Bucky's head.

His lips tingled as he let them brush over Buck's skin again and again, slowly opening his mouth to brush his teeth over the dark red hickey. John smiled as Gale winced slightly and moaned sleepily.

John was convinced that he had never heard a more beautiful, raw and beguiling sound. His hand automatically traveled over Buck's abs, up his chest, and he tried to memorize every ridge and valley. The thought that he could find every freckle, ridge and hard valley between Gale's muscles blindfolded in record time made him chuckle. It was the most sensual of routes he had ever explored with his fingers. Bucky's hand curved half around his jaw, half around his neck and his fingertips brushed over Buck's soft skin. Beneath his touch, he took in Gale's sleep-warm skin and the contrasts that brought out the blond stubble. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Buck grumbled into his pillow, making John laugh. He knews only too well that Gale wasn't a morning person, and god it was 6.30 a.m. on a saturday.

"You're such a son of a bitch, waking me up so early," Buck complained, sighing as Bucky stroked the sensitive skin on his neck again. His lips opened slightly, and John didn't miss the opportunity to slide his thumb over the curve of his lip.

Gale's opened his mouth a little wider and sucked John's thumb in. For a tiny moment, Bucky's heartbeat stopped. He breathed once, then a second time deeply and then exhaled again until his heartbeat galloped off again. Buck's tongue left a moist, warm sensation on his finger. The tingle of the touch spread throughout his body within seconds and his muscles tensed in joyful anticipation.

Slowly, Gale turned onto his back and looked lovingly at Buck. John's hair was completely ruined. Strands of his dark brown hair were sticking out of his head in disarray and some strands were falling into his face.

Gale lifted his left hand and brushed a few loose strands of hair from John's forehead. He buried his fingers in them and opened his mouth. Bucky withdrew his thumb and leaned forward. Their noses touched and Buck whispered, "Mornin'."

"Was that an attempt to suck me off?" Bucky teased him with a dark glint in his eye.

"It would have been a ridiculous attempt if it had been one. You know I can suck you off much better…making those forbidden erotic circles with my tongue around the tip of your hard cock," Gale whispered in a low, husky voice that sent a shiver through John's whole body. He pressed his bare chest against Gale's and moaned softly. He was already hard and ready to fuck Buck's tight ass. But he was patient, because they had all the time in the world and after last night, they both needed a break and then a first slow, sweet fuck.

"I can still remember what that potty mouth can do…" John pressed his thumb against Gales' lips again and they both shuddered as they felt a warm explosion in their stomachs.

Last night had been a total mess of impatient fingers, swollen lips and passionate snogging. They had hardly been able to wait to finally be naked again and enjoy each other. It was restless and hot - almost like the first time, when they had been so nervous and shaky. They didn't know what to expect, and then every touch had simply exceeded all expectations.

So they spent the whole morning stealing kisses from each other, laughing and enjoying this carefree time out. At first, they had both stood up, staggering rather than steady on their feet, and staggered towards the outdoor rain shower. Only to kiss there under the warm water jet, jerk each other off and then come to orgasm together.

Reaching this tingling high was exhilarating, and for a moment John's eyes blurred black. Various veils of color danced behind his eyes. A soft sound echoed in his ears, as if a swarm of bees were buzzing repeatedly past his head.

Gale had knelt in front of him and taken him so deep in his mouth that he had become dizzy. The magic of the tip of his tongue and the rhythmic movements of his hand had given him a tremendous high.

His breathing was loud and heavy and it took him minutes to calm down. Then he had grabbed Gale's face with both hands, pulled him back to his feet and kissed him so passionately that they had both lost their balance. Buck had laughed without breath against his swollen lips and the smell of freshly cut grass, sweet apples and John's salty, slightly bitter cum had mingled on their tongues.

Afterwards they had fallen back into bed with only towels wrapped around their hips and had exchanged more sweet kisses until they were both breathless and sleepy.

Gale had grabbed the shaving cream and a razor, stood between Bucky's thighs and shaved him. This intimate moment of closeness and vulnerability had felt somewhere special and precious to them both. Like a sign they had both been waiting so long for, and in the aftermath, the afternoon had passed them by in a few breaths.

When evening came and the sun slowly disappeared into the distance with a spectacular play of lights, they were both still in bed.

Bucky was leaning with his bare back against the headboard of the bed. The comforter was spread over his legs, pulled up to his lower abs. Gale close beside him, lying on his stomach with a crossword puzzle from The Times in front of him. A pen in his left hand and his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. Buck repeatedly stroked his lips with the pen while John scrutinized him. The last rays of sunlight fell through the open window and bathed the entire room in an exclusive play of pink and orange - Bucky and Buck in the middle of everything.

"A seven-letter word…a synonym for passionate," Buck read aloud with a deep voice.

Bucky grinned and stroked Gale's sun-warmed back with the flat of his palm. His fingertips left fuzzy goose bumps, which John noted with self-satisfaction. Buck's body shuddered softly under his touch and John heard Gale gasp audibly.

"Stop distracting me…" Buck complained, grumbling, but he could also hear the grin that resonated in his words. "A seven-letter word…a synonym for passionate", he repeated.

"Sorry darlin'," Bucky replied, still smiling and leaning closer to Gale. He bent halfway over Buck's back from behind and positioned his hands next to Buck's torso on the mattress. Then he lowered his lips to Gale's sensitive skin and savored the way he looked again. More forcefully this time, and when Buck lowered his head momentarily, John sucked gently on Gale's neck. "It's just too easy to distract you. Besides, it gives me great pleasure to taste and touch you."

To emphasize his words, he rubbed the tip of his nose against the shell of Gale's ear and blew gently into it.

Buck's hands crumpled the pages of the newspaper and he lowered his head further. "John," he whispered hoarsely. "That feels good."

"Hmmm..." Bucky breathed a series of soft kisses on the side of Buck's neck and throat, and approached his ear again. Then he whispered in a quivering voice, "How about amours?"

For a moment, unspoken confusion floated through the room and Bucky enjoyed how much he managed to distract Gale. He nudged him with the tip of his nose, tickling his cheeks and repeating, "Try amours."

Buck took a deep breath and checked the available letters. "It doesn't fit," he mumbled back, swallowing hard as John stroked his right hand over his shoulder blades and then down the side of his ribcage.

"How about burning? Does it fit?" he asked, intensifying his kisses. He opened his lips slightly and began to suck on Buck's neck. From behind, he lowered himself further onto Buck's backside and when their naked, warm torsos collided, Gale let out a soft, stifled moan.

"No," Buck replied, feeling his body temperature slowly rising. His cheeks took on a pinkish-red hue and his heart beat as fast as a hummingbird's wings. "It doesn't fit…there's an "I" and an "N" in it….God, Bucky," he groaned. The groan that slipped over his lips mingled with John's heavy breaths as he rolled his hips against Gale's ass with definite, rhythmic thrusts.

As his hard cock slid between Buck's firm, warm ass cheeks, a tingle ran through Bucky's veins. The fluffy towel increased the pressure between them. "You feel so damn good, Buck. I really wanna fuck this tight ass", Bucky whispered in a voice veiled with lust.

"Bucky," Gale replied, sounding breathless, excited and yet Bucky could hear the hint of doubt in his voice. So far, they had never gone further than kissing each other wildly, wet and hard, touching each other. Just the fact that Gale's swollen lips already felt so forbidden, what would it be like when he slid his cock between his beautiful ass cheeks.

"I know, darlin'. We'll do everything in your tempo...but it almost kills me to fully have your attention here and can't have all of you", he reassured Buck.

Bucky wrapped one hand around Gale's neck from behind and tilted his head to the side. With his lips, he breathed a trail of kisses on the exposed skin and when he found that one sensitive spot, he began to suck. He felt Buck's body relax beneath him and he leaned closer into John's touch. "I know you're not stressing me out…I want you too, but I'm scared too."

"I'll catch you…how about intense?" Bucky suggested in a warm voice and Gale was glad he was offering him this little distraction. In an instant, his racing heartbeat calmed a little and the agonizing tension left his muscles, giving way to the tingling and prickling that shot through his veins.

"Yeah," sighed Buck. "That fits perfectly," he added, filling in the last gaps with trembling fingers. His handwriting was barely legible, but his thoughts were already drifting off into darker abysses.

Bucky replied: "Good." He could think of other, more sensual things that went perfectly together…or into each other. For example, his hard cock in Buck's tight, warm ass.

"Now turn around and let me see your beautiful blue eyes", he commanded.

He gave Gale just enough room to turn around under him. As soon as their eyes met, Buck reached out for John's cheeks and pulled him down to him. The kiss was different - more intense and fiercer than the breathy kisses on his neck before.

Invisible bonds formed between them and Gale's body vibrated and with every second that John touched him, his desire increased. He opened his mouth and asked Bucky's lips to let him in with his tongue. John intensified their kiss and opened his lips wide so that their tongues could touch. They both breathed loudly and heavily through their noses as they kissed. Gale's one hand traveled from John's cheek to his neck and then his fingers buried themselves in his dark, soft hair. The small touch of Gale's fingers in his hair made Bucky moan.

"You're driving me crazy," Bucky confessed as their kiss ended and he leaned in on his elbows. His weight pressed them both deeper into the soft, yielding puss and Gale spread his legs wider so their hips were touching.

"Not as much as you drive me crazy," Gale fired back with a wink. His hand still buried in strands of John's hair, he pulled him down for another brief, fierce kiss.

"You know how much you mean to me, don't you?" murmured Bucky, stroking his thumb over Gale's chin. His blue-green eyes sought reassurance and security in Buck's gaze, and when he found all of that, his heart warmed terribly.

Gale, lying beneath him, blinked a few times and whispered, "Why are you asking me that? It almost sounds like you want to leave me, John"

Bucky opened his eyes in shock and shook his head wildly. "What? No way…I don't know why I said that either…but actually I did…" he gloried in his words and it was a rare, amusing and refreshing moment for Gale.

He could only remember a handful of conversations where Bucky hadn't known how to phrase something.

"Relax…I love you, okay?" whispered Buck, kissing his jaw.

"That's exactly the problem," Bucky replied, smiling wistfully. His thumb brushed over Gale's bottom lip and he added, "I love you so much and knowing I'll never have you completely-never kiss you in public or hold your hand - almost kills me."

Buck swallowed and his throat suddenly felt dry and terribly constricted. He frowned and cleared his throat, hardly trusting his own voice. "I'll always be with you. No matter what the others will say…there will be a time when all this will be possible."

"What if it takes our whole lives and we have to live a lie?"

Buck shook his head slightly and stroked John's neck. "Who knew you could be so sentimental and brooding, Major Egan?" he teased, and when Bucky's features relaxed a little, Gale leaned forward and kissed him briefly. Then he added: "There won't be a lie as long as we know the truth, okay?"

"Marry me," Bucky murmured, leaning back until he was kneeling over him. His thighs pinned Gale to the mattress on either side of him and he unfastened the collar of his dog tags.

A strangled laugh escaped Gale. "John what are you talking about? Are you going crazy?"

Bucky shook his head, barely visible. An engaging smile on his lips as he repeated, "Marry me, Gale Cleven." Then he leaned down to him again. The tips of their noses touched and Gale could barely breathe as he realized the seriousness in John's words, the meaning of them catching him completely off guard and burying him like a wave.

"You know we can't...", he started when closes his mouth again, struggeling finding the right words. The bedroom was filled with loud breathing and pounding heartbeats, and when Gale moved in again to shatter Bucky's dream, John simply kissed him.

"Forget this world for once. No more prohibitions, no more judgments, no more hiding…. would you marry me then?"

Before Gale could fully comprehend the words, his heart had already made a decision and he blinked several times. He was so close to John that he could feel his warm, minty breath on his skin. Time seemed to stand still between them and it seemed like an eternity to Bucky, but it was only a few seconds before Buck finally answered, "Yes, I would marry you, John Egan."

The next kiss between them got completely out of hand. Their lips collided and their loud breaths mingled as Gale opened his lips and they both kissed with their mouths half open and their tongues dancing together. Sometimes John gained the upper hand in the kiss, sometimes Gale reclaimed it, and when they breathlessly broke away from each other, John breathed another loose kiss on Gale's forehead and sat up.

As Gale tipped his head back and gasped for air, he watched Bucky undo the clasp on his one necklace and as he held his dog tags in his hands, he took one off and placed it on Gale's bare stomach.

"What are you doing?" asked Buck, taking the small, cool metal plate in his hand.

"I'll give you a piece of me," Bucky explained, smiling gently. "Hold her tight," he added, running both palms over Gale's chest. His thumb stroked one of his nipples and as it hardened sensitively, he grinned in satisfaction. "Lift your head," he ordered Gale and took off his own necklace. Still speechless, Buck watched as John exchanged a dog tag and then closed the clasp so that Gale now wore his own and John's dog tags around his neck. John did the same with his necklace and when he had closed the clasp, he bent down to Gale. "…and you give me a piece of you, baby. Unfortunately, I can't put a real engagement ring on your finger, but this way you have my promise that I'm yours."

"…and I'm yours," Gale whispered, sounding hoarse, and breathless, and hopelessly in love.

Then the next few minutes blurred between them and there were only restless kisses, wandering hands and desire.

Bucky kissed Gale's lips slowly at first, gentle pressure, soft, wet touches echoing in his ears before he eased away from him and attacked his neck.

Gale's hand settled on his cheek, holding him close, and the love he felt in that moment made his heart pound desperately. The only sound Buck could hear was his and John's loud breathing and the blood rushing through his veins. He threw his head back and closed his eyes in pleasure as Bucky opened his mouth and scraped his teeth across his collarbone.

"John," he sighed excitedly, lifting his hips. Hoping Bucky understood his restlessness and his urge for more, he slid both hands over John's back and placed his palms on his hips. "I need you closer."

Bucky finished his kiss trail and smirked, "This hickey looks absoluty stunning on your skin, darlin'."

"I want that you mark me all over with your lips," Gale whispered, his blue eyes momentarily losing their focus as his thumbnail scratched over the fresh hickey.

"Are you challenging me?", John asked slowly and his controll almost fliped away.

"Maybe a bit." Gale closed his eyes in desperate lust and bit down hard on his lower lip as a shiver ran through him. His fingertips twitched, digging them deeper into John's hips.

"Fuck," he groaned, blinking at Bucky under half-closed eyes. "Are you trying to get me so turned on I'll go crazy?" he asked with a smirk on his lips, snapping at John's lips.

"No, just drive you crazy enough that you relax and let me touch and fuck your beautiful ass", he teased him back.

Gale inhaled deeply through his nose and as he looked at Bucky. Memorizing every detail of him, a feeling of deep satisfaction spread through his belly. Suddenly there were no more doubts or fears. There was only lust, desire and …. love left in him, and he didn't care that it wouldn't be perfect or maybe hurt a bit first, because the only thing that mattered to Buck was that he made every moment with John count.

Gale blinked and rested his forehead against Bucky's. He closed his eyes and as his finger stroked Bucky's lip, tickled by his beard, he finally said, "I'm not afraid anymore, John. I'm ready for the next step, I'm ready for everything as long as I do it with you."

"Are you sure?" Bucky's voice sounded raspy. "You don't have to feel forced into it."

"Yes, I'm sure." As soon as those words crossed Gale's lips and got through to John, he kissed him. These kisses felt more passionate and special - they were reckless and heated.

Gale lost himself in the taste of John's lips and skin as he pressed his face into Bucky's neck and kissed him there. He lost himself in the taste of him, a little salty, a little sweet, and absolutely addictive.

Then a fever suddenly broke out in him and an unstoppable heat raced through his limbs. Gale opened his mouth and licked over Bucky's warm, slightly damp skin.

"Hmmm", John moaned loudly. "I like your mouth on my skin."

Meanwhile, John's hands stroked his ribcage and as they undid the knot of his towel and pulled away the soft white fabric, he shivered slightly.

In the next breath, a warm, rough fist closed around his hard cock and an electrifying wave shot through Buck's body. He bit his lip and tried to hold back his lust, but he couldn't fight the urgent feeling in his arms and legs that was driving him wild. A shiver rippled down his back and made his spine tingle, making him squint as Bucky stroked his tip with his thumb.

"You're already wet," John whispered, ecstatic and surprised. "So sensitive", he added with dark glinted eyes. Then he lifted his gaze from Gale's cock and licked his lips seductively as he brought his thumb to his face. Inevitably, Gale held his breath and stared at him as Bucky opened his mouth and licked his thumb. Another wave of heat rushed through Gale and within a breath his face was in flames. "You taste the sweetest of all drugs."

A strangled sound escaped Gale's lips and made the corners of John's mouth twitch. His slightly swollen, full lips curled into a traitorous, hot smile. "Want more?"

Buck's throat was dry as dust and not a word escaped his lips. He didn't trust his voice and wrinkled his nose slightly as he nodded.

"Let me hear you, baby," Bucky begged him, closing his fist around Gale's erection again. He encircled it with light pressure and began a steady, slow rhythm. Sometimes Bucky slid his thumb over the sensitive tip of his cock again and Gale lifted his hips toward him each time. A desperate attempt to increase the friction, and at other moments John would twist his wrist slightly and increase the pressure around the base of Gale's cock. Hot cold shivers chased over Buck's body and veiled his eyes.

"Fuck John. Please…" Gale begged, sliding one of his hands under the pillow to find purchase in the soft fabric. But the various sensations racing through his body were unstoppable and merciless. They burned him from the inside out and left him with nothing but insatiable desire.

"Please what?" Bucky teased him, sliding his open mouth across Buck's chest. His lips brushed his right nipple and as he gasped for breath, John repeated the process. He slowly closed his lips around the sensitive bud and said, letting him feel his teeth. Echoing Gale's heartbeat beneath his lips, John lifted his gaze and stared at him under half-closed lids. Buck lifted a hand and wrapped it half around his neck, half around his shoulder. His fingertips dug into John's warm, firm skin with gentle pressure. With light, barely perceptible pressure, Gale invited him down further - a desire, a wish Gale would never have spoken aloud.

We'll get there some day, Bucky thought boldly, sucking harder on his nipple one last time.

"I want your mouth", Buck replied huskily. His eyes almost on fire and dark.

"You have my mouth, Baby."

Gale grumbled angrily and exhaled loudly before lifting his head from the pillows and frowning. "You know where I want your lips."

"Yes," John smirked dirtily. "Here?" he asked, kissing Gale's upper stomach.

"Further down" Gale directed him, dropping his head back into the pillows.

"Here?" asked Bucky innocently, blowing two or three kisses on Gale's lower belly. Under his lips, his muscles tensed deliciously and John dipped his tongue into Gale's belly button.

"Shit, further down." The grip on his shoulder tightened, and when Gale finally buried his fingers in his dark hair, he knew he'd broken through an invisible wall. Mouth open, he licked further down to Gale's hipbone, where he scraped his teeth.

He was pushing Gale's patience to the limit. John could feel under his lips how close he was to pushing Gale over the edge. As he sped up the rhythmic up and down movements with one hand, he sucked on Gale's easily irritated skin with his lips. He left another hickey in his wake.

Gale let out an almost silent scream and looked Bucky straight in the eye before asking hoarsely: "Can..can you please suck me off?"

It only took John a second or two to react. Then his lips closed around the tip of Buck's cock. The feeling of being surrounded by wet warmth made Gale dizzy. Watching John's pink, swollen lips stretch around his cock almost made him cum. His hips jerked and he inevitably pressed his cock deeper into John's throat.

"Sorry…" Gale gasped, trying to hold back. But Bucky shook his head imperceptibly and wrapped his other hand around Gale's wrist, which was still resting on his shoulder. "You want me to…" Gale asked breathlessly and Bucky's eyes flashed brightly.

Bucky raised his head briefly and took a breath. "Don't hold back and relax. Don't think about what comes next." He breathed a wet kiss on Gale's thigh and slid further down his body until his elbows were resting on the mattress, spreading Gale's legs.

A hint of panic flitted across Buck's face, but when John curved his lips around his erection again, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the tingling in his body.

Then John's tongue licked over his entire length and he shuddered again. The combination of firm, twisting hand movements, Bucky's wet lips and the cool air hitting his heated skin drove him further towards climax.

Bucky's warm palm rubbed over his lower abs and then fingers wrapped around his thigh. With gentle pressure, John spread his legs wider and for a tiny moment Gale felt terribly naked and vulnerable.

"Bucky," Gale whispered, cupping John's chin. He sounded throaty and slightly uncertain, but he suppressed the hint of fear. "Can you move your fingers…I'd like to feel it," Gale stuttered and sighed. Once again, he found it difficult to express his desires openly and dirty. But that didn't matter because Bucky knew exactly what he wanted and needed.

"Don't worry about it," John encouraged him and leaned over him briefly, kissing his lips and then reaching over to the bedside table.

Gale closed his eyes, embarrassed, and when he felt a soft rustling and then John's body heat again, he shuddered.

"It's still a mystery to me how you can be so embarrassed and at the same time so uninhibited when I'm sucking you off and hopefully fucking you soon," Bucky whispered, stroking his heated cheeks with his knuckles.

"Shut up, John." Gale pressed a hand on his's shoulder and pushed him back between his legs. "Do it before I change my mind."

"Yes, Major," Bucky winked and kissed his groin and thigh. Again, he closed a hand around Gale's erection and pumped a slow, firm rhythm. With his other hand, he opened the lube and dipped two of his fingers into it. He then rubbed his fingers together and warmed the gel.

John squeezed Buck’s dick in time with his thrusts, as sweat dripped from his brow onto Buck’s thigh. He speeded up and then slowed down the movements of his fist and suck again - hard and deep this time.

Bucky groped blindly beside him and grabbed a pillow. "Raise your hips," he demanded and Buck did so. The soft fabric and the elevated position would make things a lot easier, Bucky knew from previous experiences. It had been that way with many women…why should it be any different here?

"Jerk you off, baby," John demanded in a raspy voice. He watched as Gale's hand replaced his own and began to pump. "Slow down," he laughed as Gale rolled his hips. Buck wrapped an arm around his waist and pressed him back into the sheets.

"God damn…make me come," Gale hissed breathlessly.

"I'll darlin'…just relax," Bucky begged. "Close your eyes and just feel." Gale sighed and pressed his head into the pillows. Then John kissed his thigh one last time and ran his palms over his firm, twitching muscles to his ass.

As his hands gripped Gale's butt and he slowly spread his ass cheeks, they both inevitably held their breath. John only realized it when his chest began to burn. Gasping hard for air, he whispered again, "Relax. You're beautiful."

He slid his hands over Buck's thighs and bottom several times until he clearly felt his muscles relax. Only then did he continue, blowing a kiss on the base of Gale's cock and further down. He ran his fingertips carefully between his ass cheeks.

"Ahh," Buck gasped and John paused. He repeated the touch and pressed his thumb gently against the firm ring of muscle. Along the way, he spread kisses and applied light pressure to Gale's tight hole. "That feels intense…" Buck whimpered.

"To much?"

Gale shook his head, "No...keep going!"

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief and drew a few circles with his thumb. Gale's firm muscles worked under the tip of his thumb and when John lowered his lips again, licking his tongue between his ass cheeks, Gale moaned loudly and deeply.

"Okay?" Bucky asked slowly.

"Better than okay," Gale whispered, squeezing his cock hard to curb his desire.

John rubbed his thumb over the ring of muscle again and when it was soft and wet, he pressed the tip of his thumb against Gale's ass with gentle but firm pressure. Half-lowering his eyelids, he squinted up at Buck and followed every movement on his face as his thumb broke through the muscle.

He paused and waited until Gale's muscles relaxed a little. "You're doing so good," he praised him. "You feel amazing around my finger - it's hot and tight."

He continued to look up at Gale as he moved his thumb slightly and slowly began to slide it in and out.

"God…this feels…more Bucky. Give my a little more," Gale begged in a raspy voice, sliding his own thumb over the tip of his wet cock.

John moved his thumb in and out a few more times at a slow pace before dipping his tongue in and then sliding his ring finger in. "You look breathtaking…I can't wait to take you…slow and deep," Bucky murmured, swallowing hard to control and ignore his own desire and the urgent throbbing in his cock a little longer.

"I'll add a second finger," he warned Buck. A few breaths later he pressed his wet fingers against Gale's tight hole and this time it was much easier for him to thrust through the tight ring of muscle.

"I won't last much longer," Buck groaned, licking his dry lips. "I'm ready."

Gale's cheeks were on fire and his muscles shook with the effort. The slightly stinging friction of John's fingers inside him triggered waves of emotion he had never felt before. Heights he had never thought possible. His mind was blank - all thoughts completely swept away as Buck's fingers slipped out of him and for a strange, brief moment he felt empty and cold. Then the next few breaths blurred, and as he felt Bucky's body weight and searing heat against his skin again, he grabbed John's wrist with one hand. "Don't leave me," he pleaded breathlessly, his voice tinged with fear.

"Never," Bucky replied in a heavy voice. His tongue felt sluggish and he clasped Gale's left cheek. "We can stop anytime," he reminded Buck.

A tiny nod was all John needed before he positioned himself at Buck's entrance and leaned down for an all-consuming kiss. Just before their lips met, he whispered in a husky voice, "Take a deep breath."

Gale's grip on his wrist tightened and John followed Buck's every reaction with his eyes. He thrust his hips forward slowly and deliberately, feeling the resistance of Gale's hot, tight muscles. John lowered his head and rubbed the tip of his nose over Gale's heated cheek. His lips breathed kisses on his smooth skin as he pushed himself centimeter by centimeter into Gale's tight hole. They were both breathing loud and heavy, and when Buck let out a huff of air, John slid fully into his ass.

Reassuringly, he rubbed his nose over Buck's heated skin and held still, waiting for some sign. A sigh, a moan, or Gale's muscles tensing and relaxing.

Bucky didn't know how much time had passed when Gale licked his lips and exhaled. Fingertips brushed over John's slightly sweaty skin as Buck slid his hands over his torso and finally placed them on his hips. "Are you okay?" Bucky asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Gale whispered in a raspy voice and when John moved his hips, pulling back and then slowly thrusting forward again, he let out a strangled groan.

"You feel fantastic." Buck felt dizzy and on the verge of passing out as Bucky began a slow and sensual rhythm with his hips. His right hand slid from his hips up to his neck and he pressed his lips hard against John's.

The kiss was wild and unbridled. Their mouths collided, teeth scraped over lower lips and their tongues took turns fighting for dominance. Buck felt like John was setting him on fire with each successive touch, each kiss, each rhythmic thrust of his hips. He was about to explode like a spark of dynamite and burst into a thousand pieces.

"Fuck…John," Gale moaned as he changed the angle of his hips and thrust deeper, somehow even more intensely into him. "Just like that", he begged and started to jerk himself off again. This time rougher and faster.

"Looking at you and feeling your heat is killing me," Bucky gasped. "You feel great…you're taking me perfect, darlin'"

Bucky felt weightless. Having Gale beneath him, feeling him completely and watching him burst into flames was almost like flying. As electrifying and ectastic as jumping out of a plane without a parachute and being shaken by a thousand volts at the same time. A tingling sensation rushed through his veins - one hotter and more urgent than the previous one and as he accelerated his thrusts and now thrust deeper and a little harder, his heartbeat began to falter.

They were both about to burn alive and burn to ashes. John pressed his face into the crook of Gale's neck and breathed a few kisses on the salty skin. His breath caught in Gale's ear and when he wrapped one hand around the back of Bucky's neck and the other around his hard cock, John lost control.

"I'm close," he whispered in a raspy voice. Gale pressed his lips to his skin and stifled his moan.

"Me too…a little harder," Buck gasped, intensifying his own pumping motions. "John," he warned him brittlely. "Make me come…make me fly."

"I will," Bucky promised, thrusting harder and more rampantly. An urgent heat gathered in his belly and as he lifted his head, his eyes meeting Gale's, a fireball exploded in his chest. "I'm about to come."

Gale cursed quietly to himself and arched his back. His hips thrust against John's and he sank deep into Gale's ass a few more times.

Bucky thrust into Gale as deep as he could, his hips rocking in unison with Gale's. Some thrusts hit Gale so hard and unpreparedly intense that he bit his lip, shuddered and his muscles tightened around John's cock

"God…you're so tight and hot, and perfect," Bucky gasped, dropping his sweaty forehead against Gale's as his hips jerked uncontrollably and he shuddered to climax. "Fly with me, Buck."

"I'll come...I...John", Buck moaned surprisingly loudly and in a sensually deep voice. At the same time, he felt Gale tense beneath him and seconds later, warm, thick cum shot between their torsos.

Bucky breathed a wet kiss on Gale's forehead and stroked his red cheek with his fingertips. His heartbeat raced in his chest and he let out a breathless laugh. "There aren't many things, but this…with you…felt better than flying," Bucky murmured.

Beneath him, Gale's muscles twitched and his bright blue eyes glittered in the last of the sunlight. He was slow to come down from the climax he had just experienced and the wild rhythm of his heart thundered in his ears. His hips were still rolling back and forth in small, lazy thrusts. Bucky tried to prolong the aftershocks a little longer. They had left a mess everywhere, but especially on Gale's stomach and he could feel the cum drying up.

"How are you feeling?", he asked und kisses Buck's lower lip softly.

"Giddy, satisfied, overwhelmed," Gale murmured. "I've never felt anything so intense...but I'm good, baby."

As the words filtered through to Bucky, he couldn't help but think of The Times crossword puzzle and everything that had happened afterwards. "Feeling like this every time i look at you", he teased.

Gale laughed and the sound was beautiful. He propped himself up on his elbows and slowly slid out of Gale. They both shuddered at the sudden loss of contact and John quickly scrambled to pull the covers over their sweaty, sticky bodies.

"You made a mess," Gale whispered with a glint of pure contentment, snuggling into him sideways.

The corners of Bucky's mouth twitched and he cupped his hand around his chin, lifting it and smirking dirtily against his lips, "I just like rocking your world and you've never looked better to me…relaxed, sweaty, covered in love bites and really well fucked."

Gale blushed again, making Bucky laugh. For a moment it was timeless - the two of them happy, naked and deeply connected. His heart threatened to explode when Buck wrapped his fingers around his necklace and pulled him close by the dog tags. "I love you…I've never flown higher than with you."

"Fyling high…say yes to heaven, say yes to me…" whispered Bucky.

"A thousand times yes," Gale smiled. "I'll be your co-pilot today and forever."

"Good," Bucky replied and kissed him. "I couldn't fly without you." Nothing could touch them, and when Bucky realized he never wanted to hold anything but Gale in his arms again, everything was pretty much perfect.

[tasteofthedivine93]

Speechless (18+) 🌶️🌶️ - COD Fanfic

TasteOfTheDivine // Masterlist

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53875747 Rating: Mature 18+ (MDNI) Category: F/M Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Relationships: John Price (Call of Duty)/Reader // John Price (Call of Duty) & Reader

Warnings: None Words: 5,298

Summary:

Price decides to return the favour.

Notes:

Somewhat a part 2 to Hands All Over. You don't need to read it before this, summary; you give Price a handjob in the common room. However, it would be nice if you did read it. I might continue this as a series but all stand-alone one-shots. Not beta-read as I have no friends. I do struggle with tenses so apologies. Comments are WELCOME, please tell me of any mistakes. Either way, enjoy the show.

It had taken around a week for what happened between the two of you to fully sink into Price’s mind. Despite his mature age, he was still, deep down, a dumb-founded boy who sometimes doesn’t see the blatantly obvious signs of flirting from a woman. 

Price sat in his office, elbows on the desk, hands laced together and resting on his lips. His eyes glazed over as he stared at the wooden door, thinking about you. He could feel his jaw clenched so hard that his teeth could shatter. Keeping his breathing slow and steady as if about to take a sniper's shot, he might as well have been shot in the chest himself. The growing warmth in his sternum burnt just as much as a real bullet.

He shut his eyes slowly. He swears he can still feel your soft hand around his cock, pumping slowly. The warmth of your breath in his ear, your gentle kisses on his neck. Despite things seeming “normal” on base, he’s churning on the inside of what to do with you. He knows he should be professional and just move on - take it as a team-mate just helping out another teammate, that's it.  But something inside truly believes you want more. 

It took all the strength he had left after his climax not to go chasing after you when you left the common room. The last whispers of offering to help him clean up made his chest pang, he politely declined in his post-nut clarity and sat there dumbfounded. Instead, once you left, he calmly left to shower, change and clean out the stain in his boxers.

After that, you both continued as normal, pretending you didn’t jerk him off in public, with your team members feet away. But you knew you had even the tiniest effect on him as he did occasionally blush when you “offered a hand”. Even you couldn’t hide the smirk on your lips at that. You little minx.

He’d taken in the way you’d tap his knee and arms, bouncing around him like a puppy, bending over and showing off your round ass to him, always wanting to sit next to him at meetings and on ex-fil. Had he been that blind? 

Shaking his head, he knows he can’t start something he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t, no, wouldn’t start something. But god you were intoxicating. He would be lying if he hadn't thought about taking your perky breasts in his mouth, kissing your stomach, licking you till you were a squirming mess from just his tongue. 

He is a warm-blooded man after all, but he knew his place, his position of power - but something inside him changed that day you dominated him. The feeling of your hand tight on his mouth, around his neck, the way you controlled him so easily and how fast he melted under your touch. At first, he took it as just general exhaustion, being extremely touch-starved, but then he started to think about you more and more. 

Letting out a strong huff from his nose, he rose from his desk, chair flying behind him into the bookshelves making it rattle. With haste he pulls open his office door, feeling his muscles tense up he storms down the hallway to the infamous common room. He can already hear your laughter echoing down the hall, your infectious laugh that made his cock twitch. He lets out another grunt in frustration and slams his hand onto the door frame with force. Standing wide in the doorway, his eyes scan the room till they lock onto you - he felt his stomach flip as your smile lit up the room. However, his face remained scowling. 

Looking over, you see Price in the doorway, glaring as if he could punch through the wall. His shoulders rounded, arms tensing by his sides. You felt a mixture of arousal but also a twinge of fear you’d actually fucked up and your smile drops quickly.

He points sharply at you, breathing in deep, chest rising and falling.

Shit. 

“You. My Office. Now.” He bellows into the room so deep you swore you felt the vibrations all the way on the other side of the room.

Soap and Gaz, who were sitting next to you, both snapped their heads up at Price’s command, the laughter between the three of you turned to silence. You feel as if a weight was just placed on your shoulders as Price continues to stare you down, waiting for you to stand and follow him. But even now, your legs stop. He’s yelled at you before, countless times and it’s never affected you, even when you know you were in the wrong. This was something else. 

You dry swallow and never let your eyes turn away from his sharp blue orbs, heck you even swore you didn’t blink, scared of breaking eye contact for even a second. 

Out the corners of your peripheral you see Soap and Gaz snap their heads to you, looking with confusion. All you can do is obey slowly rising from your seat and carefully walk over to your Captain, eyes never leaving his. 

“Captain,” you say with a stern voice. He turns away from you, finally breaking that stomach churning gaze. He marches down the hall, heavy combat boots stomping against the linoleum tiles. Each stomp pounding in the same speed as your heart. 

For the first time in years, Price is making you nervous. 

You follow along on his heels, hands behind your back and posture upright, a model soldier. Your exterior is stern and stoic but your insides are mush. You both finally reach his office door, he grabs the handle and pushes the door open, it bangs against the wall inside. 

He doesn’t look at you and you don’t look at him; 

“In,” he commands. You don’t even tell your feet to move, they do so automatically. You enter the dark room, lingering smell of cigars still cloying to the air making it stale and slightly harder to breath, or it’s just your chest tightening from fear. 

You stand before the desk, legs apart, hands still firm behind your back and you raise your chin up and stare at the bookcase behind his chair. You quickly scan over the desk to see a messy pile of paperwork, a few empty cups of tea or coffee and a blunt cigar butt in the ashtray at the side. 

Once you hear him shut the door, no, lock the door behind you, you feel a small layer of sweat bead on your lower back and brow. He doesn’t go to sit at his desk or even stand in front of you. You feel him looming menacingly behind you, his breath on the top of your head. You hear the rustling of fabric, you guess he’s folded his arms. 

It feels as if you both stand in silence for hours, him just breathing down your neck, watching you internally squirm at the quietness of the room. You know it’s protocol to wait for him to begin and not speak out of turn but the silence is deafening and you cannot stand it anymore. You breathe deep through your nose and open your mouth.

“Don’t speak till I tell you to,” He rumbles, low and deep. “Understood?” 

Snapping your mouth shut, you slowly turn your head slightly to face him, trying to catch him out of your peripheral vision but his hand grabs the top of your head, turning it back to face forward.

“Do you understand, sergeant?” He hisses again. 

You dry swallow again, nodding slowly. 

“Good,” He steps a little closer to you, and you can feel his body heat radiating onto your back. You subconsciously arch your spine a little, hoping to press your ass into his crotch and tease him but instead you feel him lean down, pressing his lips close to your ear. The closeness overwhelms your senses and you feel your nipples harden, a shiver rolls down your neck but you remain stationary, eyes fixated on a red book in the middle of the bookshelf you stare at. 

“We need to talk about the other week.” You can’t help but smirk at the memory. Grateful he cannot see your face. It takes all your power to not let out a huff of air from your nose. 

“You, you little minx, haven’t left my head since that day.” His breath was hot on the shell of your ear, a hint of woody cigar smoke vapours into your nose and you feel yourself shudder, biting at the flesh inside your cheek. 

“And I decided that to keep the morale between the team up. I think I should return the favour.” He chuckles into your ear, lips barely grazing the soft skin. “You know, tit for tat. Call us even.”

You feel your blood run cold and a tingle run down your spine. Your eyes widen and you turn your head to the side again, wanting to look at him, to see if he is serious. Instead, his hand grabs the back of your head again, turning you to face forward.

“Eyes forward, soldier.” He says sharply. 

Stepping back, you feel his body heat disappear. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and stood there patiently. You so desperately want to speak up, break this charade of captain and sergeant and ask him if he’s being serious. But some sense of pride keeps you muted, waiting for permission to speak. Despite you being the dominating one during your previous entanglement in the common room, you’ve always had a bit of a kink for being dominated. 

“However, I need to make sure I’m not overstepping.” You hear him shuffle on his feet behind you. “But we both know I’m not.” 

Suddenly you feel the tickling sensation of a finger gliding down your spine, making you arch your back again and push out your chest, somewhat involuntary. You let out a small whimper at his touch that almost tickles. You feel your cheeks grow warm and your knees fall weak.

You hear him chuckle, that once confident side of you is melting away, your stomach continues to flutter with butterflies. For a second you thought you were dreaming, that this wasn’t actually happening, but it was, a dream come true. However you felt a shock of fear in the back of your mind that from now on, everything between the two of you will change. Before, you were just teasing, but this feels like the start of something permanent. 

Trailing his finger back up your spine and watches as you arch that pretty back of yours, your hips thrusting backwards and making your ass curve deliciously and he drinks you in. Price places his hands on your arms, gently rubbing his calloused but strong hands down your sleeves and back up and squeezing your shoulders. 

Dropping your once tense shoulders, encouraging him to continue, that you’re not scared anymore. He gently glides his hands back down your arms till they reach your wrists still perfectly poised at your lower back. You unclasp your hands, letting Price take hold of them and gently placing them on the desk in front of you. Your palms appreciating the cool wood from the desk. 

He leans over again, lips touching your ear;

“Hands on the desk, no moving. Or I’ll punish you.” He mutters, his words going straight to your core, making your cunt flutter and your clit twitch. His arms envelope around you, holding your hands on his desk, his chest flush with your back now. 

You start to feel him slowly grind against your ass, his slightly hardened cock pressing into the seam of your ass. 

You let out a whimper at the feeling, he never said anything about noises, just no words. He chuckles again. 

“Like that, don’t ch’a?” He slowly draws a line with his finger up your arm, across your collarbone, till his hand cups around your throat causing your chin to tilt upwards. You feel his warm cheek pressing against yours, his beard slightly tickling your sensitive skin. 

“I’m going to ruin you, you little minx” He grunts, his other hand snakes around your waist pulling you closer into him, his intoxicating body heat warming your back. You ever so slowly raise your hand from the desk, fingertips barely touching the wood, unfortunately for you, Price’s eagle-eyes saw the movement and he tuts. 

“I said,” he hisses, tugging your jaw upwards, lips nearly gazing against your cheek. You gasp at his sudden movements and he removes his grip on your throat. Before you could even process your misconduct, you feel a flash of hot white strike over your backside, Price spanking you through your trousers. The sound of the slap echoes around the room, anyone nearby would have heard the crack. You let out a strangled and breathless moan at the pain, planting your hands back firmly on the desk. 

“You always disobey my orders don’t you, love?” He states calmly. 

You want to retort badly, he knows you’d just love to run off your mouth at him, join in with the flirting but you don’t dare, another whimper cracks in your throat. You can feel your panties getting soaked, your core is burning hot and demanding to be touched. You swear your legs are starting to shake already and you’re learning more about yourself each second he touches you.

Price returns flush against your back, hand carefully at your throat again, squeezing a little harder this time - his other hand plants firm on your stomach, pulling you into him. You feel him fully hard in his trousers now, grinding his heavy girthy cock into your ass. You dare to fight him over who’s the one taking the lead right now and you slowly grind into him, the pressure on his cock causes him to get out a grunt that vibrates from his chest into your back. 

A rough hand squeezes the sides of your throat a little more, not enough to bruise but enough for your head to start swimming. Price continues to grind his hardened member into your ass, grunting at each little thrust, the pair of you wishing he was really fucking you, instead of dry humping like two hormone riddled teenagers. 

His fingers tug at your t-shirt, untucking the fabric from the waistband of your trousers, his palm skin to skin on your stomach. His rough hands finger and squeeze at your flesh, as if trying to pull you apart. He releases the grip on your neck and you feel your brain flooded with blood again, you tilt your head back and feel it resting on the man's shoulder. 

His breathing is much deeper, small sharp inhales warm your ear as he continues to rut against you. His hands are still pawing at you, now moving higher under your shirt, letting his fingers gently glide over your bra strap, teasing. You whimper, the only way you can tell him to continue. Your stomach flutters and another tingling shock flashes through your clit. 

With haste and no precision, Price squeezes your tit through the material, kneading your mounds like dough. In appreciation, you press your ass back into his cock, wordlessly begging him to keep going. Snaking his hand to the other breast, dipping inside the cup, fingers grazing your hardened nipple. You let out a hiss. He lets out another chuckle. 

Tilting his head down, he kisses the groove of your neck below his fingers. Tender and passionate kisses that make you shiver. He continues a small trail down the exposed flesh, letting his tongue taste your salty skin, the tip drawing circles on the dermis. All the while his fingers still tenderise your breast, until returning to the stiffened peak, he pinches your nipple hard with his thumb and forefinger. 

“Fuck!” You hiss out, pulling your lower lip with your teeth, biting the skin. You had not comprehended that you spoke until you felt that familiar white-hot on your ass again. Price removes his hand from your chest and strikes you. The crack sounded louder this time and the stinging in your flesh tells you he must have used more force. 

“You need to learn to shut that pretty mouth of yours. Disobey my orders again, and I won’t let you finish.”

Slowly you let your eyes squeeze shut, tears forming on the outer corners from the sting on your ass. You try to nod but remain restricted by Price’s firm hold on your neck. You suck your lower lip into your mouth and clamp down on the flesh. Equally, your wrists begin to ache from the pressure of holding yourself still on the desk, the muscles shaking slightly.

Price returns his hand up your shirt and paws again at your breast, rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers, pinching at the flesh. The feeling shoots warmth down your spine and into your clit, more arousal pools into your panties making a sticky mess to your lips.

The sound of Price’s grunts and your gentle moans fill the empty silence, until he removes his hold on your neck and chest, stepping away from you. You whimper at the loss of contact. Instead, you feel Price’s hands drag down your waist, your hips and over your ass, still sore from his previous strikes. He squeezes the plump flesh and you hear him drop slowly to his knees behind you.

You suck in a small breath, nails scratching into the desk and gently arching your hips at him, practically presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat. He lets out a groan and fingers the hem, reaching around to undo the button that opens with a pop. 

His thick fingers gently tug down the fabric revealing your perky ass in a black laced thong barely covering your cheeks. He lets out a gentle “fucking hell” at the sight of you. Pulling the fabric down around your knees, he pats your thighs to spread your legs as wide as they go. You let out a sigh in anticipation of his next move. Placing both his hands onto your pink ass cheeks, he begins kneading the supple flesh under his calloused palms and fingers. 

“Bend over for me, love. Chest on the desk.” 

Eagerly you automatically follow his orders, leaning over slowly, gliding your palms over the smooth mahogany wood, pushing papers out of the way carefully, till your breasts squished against the desk. The pressure on your nipples sends a shock wave straight to your clit and you let out a small moan, still tender and swollen. Price continues to knead at your ass, fingertips gently toying with the lacy hem of your underwear. However now bent over your pussy was more on display for him, his face inches away from your sopping wet cunt. He lets out another devilish chuckle at the sight of you before him. 

You turn your head over your shoulder to try and get a look at him, but he slaps your ass again at your disobedience. You let out a frustrated grunt, wanting to tear him a new one but equally beg him to fuck you, lick you, touch you, moan is name over and over. 

Letting out a small sigh, you bask in the attention you’re so beautifully getting instead. You are, very much, appreciative to have your Captain slotted under your ass, but you so need his thick heavy cock inside you. Your blissful thoughts are suddenly interrupted when Price slowly glides a finger across your sensitive clothed cunt. You squirm at the touch, he was moving painfully slow. He swipes up and down the seam of your cunt a few times, feeling the wetness soaking through your thin panties. You felt like he was worshipping you, carving a piece of art from marble. 

Without even saying a word, he replaces his fingers with his lips, kissing the fabric gently. You knew in his unspoken words he’s saying “this is mine now”. Pressing your flushed cheek against the cool wood, you feel a small drop of drool at the corner of your lips. There’s another spark inside your core, shooting to your nipples and down into your aching clit. Needing more, you slowly push your hips back into his face, letting out a whimper. 

He taps at your ass this time, not enough to sting but enough to force your hips back forward.

“You’re a cheeky thing aren’t ya? No patience.” He squeezes at your ass, soothing the sore skin.

Fingers toy at the hem of your underwear, fingertips teasing the forbidden skin of your hips, slowly he drags the fabric over your hips, the curve of your ass and down your thighs - the cold air against your now exposed cunt was heavenly. Your body was boiling hot with lust and desire you thought you would combust at any moment. 

You hear Price suck at his teeth.

“What a pretty sight, eh?” He grabs your ass cheeks again, thumbing the sides of your puffy outer lips to pull them apart like a peach, exposing more of your glistening cunt to him. 

“So wet for me, love?” You hate that he's asking you all these questions and you’re unable to respond. You whimper instead, nodding your head against the desk. You press your chest against the wood, providing your neglected nipples with some stimulation, causing you to arch your back even further, borderline painful, but giving Prince more of your cunt to admire. 

If you were just a few inches closer to the desk, you could easily rub your swollen clit on the edge of the table, providing that relief Price is teasing you with. Instead he holds you steady, still pawing at your ass, spreading you open for him. 

You grunt at him, fingers clawing into the desk but keeping palms flat and following his orders, even though he couldn’t see from this delicious angle.

“Oh sweet thing, I need to savour this.” He beams at himself. His cock was painfully hard in his trousers as evidence of his lust towards you, tip leaking pre-cum into his boxers but this, he reminded himself, was all about you. Despite still ordering you around, he knew this was something you craved, the way you wiggle your hips at him, beckoning him to touch you. 

You lie on the desk waiting, breathing slowly, anticipating his next move. When you feel his fingertip glide on your exposed cunt from dripping hole down to your clit, pulling apart your lips like a seam. 

The movement is painfully slow, it tickles, you jerk your hips when you feel him poking at your entrance, teasing your hole. Using his middle finger, he gently presses his fingertip into you, already feeling you clamp down around him. You let out a moan, biting your lower lip harder than before. You want to push back onto him, get him inside you now but his other hand slaps your other cheek before you could move. He knows you so well already. 

“Not yet, sweet-thing,” he breaks the silence between the pair of you. 

He continues down your slit to your clit, gently rubbing your swollen nub. Your hips jerk, primal moans escape your throat - god you could come right now you're so over sensitive. He circles your clit a few times, listening to the sounds of your beautiful moans. He could feel the bud slightly grow and become hardened under his touch. You shut your eyes and let your brain record every second, you needed to remember the touch of his fingers again and again. 

Your eyes roll into your head and your spine tingles when you suddenly feel hot breath coating your dripping cunt. Price latches onto your puffy cunt, tongue flat and wide - slowly licking up from your clit to your hole. Hands holding your hips in a vice grip, you know his fingertips will leave bruises tomorrow, a badge of honour you can admire. 

Involuntary, you ball your fingers into a fist on reflex at the invasion of his tongue on you. Nails digging into the flesh of your palms leaving half moon crescents in the skin. You knew you just broke the rules, but Price was too distracted to care now, he continued to lap at your core, the tip flicking at your clit. Price palms at himself as he devours your pretty cunt, relieving some of the strain, he wants nothing more to fuck you or pump himself to compleation but right now, he wants to keep all his focus on you. He can sort himself out later.

Cheeks turn pink, you cannot fathom the lewd act, you felt so exposed, your Captain of all men is licking your juices straight from the source. No dream or fantasy could ever imagine how he’s making you feel. Your body shivers as he gently laps at your clit, the tip circling around the swollen bud. You wish you could see him, his eyes closed as he drinks from your core, looking blissed out as he laps at you with such fervour. Lips glistening with your slick, coating his beard darkening the hairs that equally tickle your inner thighs. 

A warmth grows in your hips at the thought, you start to pant and feel drool leak out of your mouth. You’ve never felt such pleasure, he’s working your body like he’s made for it. He removes his mouth from your clit and moves his fingers up the centre and teases your hole again. This time, without warning, he shoves a single digit deep inside you, the squelching sound of your juices was lewd and yet erotic. 

Your head snaps back at the invasion, he felt so big and yet he only used one finger. He was knuckle deep inside you, pumping the digit in and out of you, your walls flutter around him. Each movement grazed against that spongy spot inside you that made your heart skip a beat and clit pulse in time with his movements. A whimper shakes over your body, you feel so close. 

Another “fuck” echoes the room as you clench down on the single finger. You know how thick Price is and you worry he will break you in two, spit you open, and yet his one finger is enough to make you feel full. He pulls out and circles your entrance with two fingers, gently re-entering your core.

He fucks you with his fingers perfectly, feeling full and ready to burst. He curves his fingers down and pushes against the front of your walls, massaging your spot, you swear you saw stars. Warmth covers your clit again as he laps at you once more. The tip flicking delicately under the hood and caressing that sensitive spot, making you squirm. Your heart flutters at wanting to see him, wanting to watch him lick you and finger fuck your cunt. Your heart wanted him to hear your moans, call his name, you felt drunk on your own desire. But you still obeyed, palms still flat on the desk. 

Shaking his head, tongue sliding quickly over your clit, coating you with his saliva, both your fluids mixing beautifully and dripping down your thighs. You squeak at the pleasure, the knot in your stomach growing tighter each second, bringing you closer to your orgasm. He can tell you’re close, the pitch of your whimpers, how your legs are starting to shake. He pumps his fingers in and out of you faster, tongue flicking your clit. Your breathing picks up as the band in your stomach tightens beyond any feeling you’ve felt. 

“Yes… yes… y-es… fuck… Price… Please…” you babble at him, you don’t care about his rules and orders, you needed him to hear you moan his name, beg him to not stop. You feel his teeth graze your clit as he chuckles into your pussy, tongue still flicking at your pulsating clit. You didnt expect to orgasm so quickly, but you were very turned on and his fingers were like magic. Your walls flutter and you hold your breath, causing your lungs to burn. Sweat coats your brow and back. 

“Come for me,” he commands. 

As on queue, your walls clench down on his fingers inside you, your back arches and you let out a strangled cry. Your orgasm washes over you with such force you swear you pass out for a second. Despite your climax, Price continues to pump into you and lap at the stiffened bud, drawing your orgasm out for as long as possible. More juices coat his fingers and drip onto your thighs, the squelching noises make you feel embarrassed for a moment. 

You ride out the wave of your high and Price pulls out his fingers, sucking them clean as you hear the pop as he pulls them out of his mouth. You’ve never felt so empty, your walls still pulsating and your clit twitching, you continue to pant as a small bead of sweat drips down your temple. You try to hide your face, pressing your forehead onto the desk, a small patch of condensation grows on the polished surface under you from your hot heavy pants.

Shutting your eyes, you hear Price stand behind you. His warm and wet hands knead at your ass again and he gives you one final spank, causing your cunt to flutter one last time. He chuckles again at the sight of you. You thought you probably looked horrific, hair a mess, cheeks (both of them) red and flushed, your thighs and pussy obscenely wet and puffy. Yet you don't move till given the order. 

Instead, Price walks around you and sits at his desk, pulling the tossed aside chair and he sits down with a thud. You raise your head from the desk to look at him, eyes half closed and blown out. You look at him, his lips and beard are shimmering from your juices. He runs his hands over his beard, cleaning himself up a little but licks his lips once more - taking in the last taste of you. You wordlessly plead with him to let you go, mewling at him. Instead, he leans back, fingers locked and placed on his stomach, you see the outline of his cock against the fabric trying to break free. 

He smirks at you, savouring your afterglow, taking mental pictures. Your dazed face, parted swollen lips, line of drool from your mouth down the side of your cheek, half-open eyes. 

“You’re dismissed, sergeant.” He speaks so low and softly as if he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life. As if he’s just sat with you and discussed a mission, so calm and tender. You push up off the desk, reaching down to pull up your soaked panties and trousers, you keep your eyes on him just as before. You wipe away a small bead of drool from the corner of your mouth and nod at him. 

“Thank you, sir” you croak, throat irritatingly dry from your continued panting. You turn on your heels and reach for the door handle, unlocking it and opening it with force. A cool breeze cools your face, the scent of cheap disinfectant burns your nose and you realise the room smells of you and your arousal, sweet and pungent. You shiver before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you.

Inside Price watches as you walk away, eyes fixed on your perky ass that moments ago was his to abuse. Once alone, he palms his hard cock and grunts before stepping out of the office towards the showers. 

Notes:

I started this on a whim, I have about 3 other fics I'm working on (SoapxReader and SoapxPricexReader oo-er, but in their own worlds) I would LOVE to continue their little romp, I love this "character", cocky, a bit of a dom over Price, but they battle it out. I love a good slow burn.

[nytb]

The Instagram Story Part 2

The weeks passed as Y/N played the field with the mystery Instagram girl, well not that mysterious.

The players knew who she was after all, but they never really met her. They were just stuck hearing Lucia's stories about the late nights, the sounds that came from behind Y/N's bedroom door.

That surely played a role when it came to Y/N and Ona's relationship.

Adding up all the media duties, late night dates and Y/N studies, Ona had little to no time with Y/N. Something the defender certainly disliked.

The Spanish defender took the matter into her hands. Y/N had been rooming with Russo during away games, well not anymore.

“So” Y/N looked over to Ona's bed “How did you get Russo to abandon me?”.

Ona was left struggling for an answer, so she opted to be the lighthearted person approach “Well that's dramatic” she joked “Anyway, want to join the girls on game night?”.

“Talk about changing the topic” Y/N laughed, Ona's charm didn't seem to work on her “I would rather stay in and watch a movie”.

The defender took Y/N's wishes as commands, opening Netflix on her tablet and joining Y/N's bed.

“You can come into the sheets ya know” a not so subtle invitation, the Spanish midfielder was known to be upfront, but even this was too forward of her. Taking Ona's reaction to her previous request into consideration, Y/N tried to deescalate the situation “If you want to”.

“Um..” the defender stuttered “sure” she slowly entered Y/N's bed, being careful not to get too close.

“Why are you acting weird?” another question that had Ona struggling for an answer, choosing to play dumb for this one. “No I'm not” she argued, turning her attention to her iPad “What do you want to watch?”

The rest of the night played out how you would expect; Y/N trying to get closer to the Spanish defender as Ona experienced some major gay panic.

Ona slowly woke up, Y/N cuddled up to her, their legs intertwined. The defender didn't know what to do with herself. Play it cool and stay in bed? Leave as nothing happened? Wake Y/N up? The red devil didn't have time to make her choice. Y/N's phone rang.

The midfielder was suddenly woken up, clueless, somewhat lost. She looked up at Ona's face “Are you gonna get that?” the defender asked, pointing to her phone.

“Uh- uh yes yes”- well that was embarrassing. At some point during the night, Ona stated to make more of an impact on the midfielder.

Weird how sleeping in someones bed will do that to you.

Y/N was left playing the situation down, not even mentioning it to her regular Instagram date girl. Just another secret among friends.

Turns out that this secret would cost Y/N her mystery girl. The woman wasn't clueless. Y/N's time started to be divided among both women. Y/N favoring Ona whenever there was a chance to.

At some point it all started to add up. Y/N's feelings changed. They developed into a crush. There was only one detail that she hadn't figured out yet. The crush was reciprocated.

So, clueless as she was to it, she stopped going out with her Instagram mystery girl. Y/N started to make time for Ona when she barely had it for herself. Making up excuses to be near her fellow Spaniard.

Ona wasn't stupid, she started to pick up on it. Y/N's lingering looks, unexplained affections, going from unreachable to one call away.

Post match, Ona tried her luck “I see you” she stated leaving a questioning look on Y/N. “I'm happy you do?” more of a question than a statement. The defender scooted closer.

Oh god, it was happening. Was this that moment? Was the Spaniard going to declare her feelings?

“What a performance” - talk about a cop out. Maybe the whole declaring your undying love for a teammate wasn't meant to be. At least not just yet.

[zaidthefeederist]

Giving in to gluttony : A fit to fat story (part 1)

We were both at the gym after work just like most days. This is where we first met. I saw you on the squat rack and was enamored by your beauty (and the perfect ass you had definitely helped). I approached you and we went on a date and had been dating since then. Though we both were fitness freaks (i still am) there's a part of me i haven't told you about. A part of me that would rather have you tied up in my bed sporting a fat belly so big it hangs to your knees. I've kept it in check for as long as i can, you had only gained 10 pounds in our 4 months together and a lot of that has been muscle definition since we started working out. Today however, it all changes. One faithful injury changes everything.

"This….freaking….sucks" I say grumpy as I sit next to you in the car. We just came back from the first aid room. I look at my leg and shake my head "no lifting, no cardio…and no rock climbing for 6 months?!" I cross my arms and sigh "That also means I really have to watch what I eat…else I end up like one of those fat girls at the gym" The other day we had been making jokes about a chubby girl that was struggling to do basic cardio

"god i know baby, its not fair at all. Not having you at the gym is going to make me lose all my motivation, not to mention who else will i make fun of the fatties with" i look to you after we both laugh to ourselves.."dont worry though babe. ill take good care of you, You know i've been making myself a better and better cook. Ill make sure your diet goes exactly according to plan.." i say as i keep my hand on your toned thigh, giving it a rub and feeling ecstatic and the though of having a home bound girlfriend for 6 whole months.

**2 weeks later**

"im so bored" I sigh before taking another cookie that you made me. "Im usually at the gym right now" Another cookie goes into my stomach. I dont seem to notice the little bit of pudge that was pressing on to my waistband when I sat down like this. You had noticed that I did a lot of "boredom eating"…and recently…I had also started snacking when I was stressed or feeling a little down.

"Im done babe!" i yell, having baked another batch of cookies. The last 2 weeks have been heavenly. Turns out when liz is left to her own devices with nothing else to do, she becomes rather peckish. Its nothing insane yet but she'll never say no to a little treat every now and then. With the absence of the gym and with me making sure to always make every meal of hers just a bit more heavy, she's managed to maintain her weight at 140 pounds albeit with a major bonus. If before she was toned and slightly muscular, now shes lost her definition and is even developing a little pudge. I see her belly pressing against her waistband as she snacks on one of the cookies i made her and see it press further and further against the band as she makes the tray of cookies magically disappear.

You always made sure to take the plates away or split it in multiple portions, so I had no idea how much I was actually eating in a day. after finishing the third tray of cookies that day you see I am rubbing my belly…I was getting full and I hadn't even eaten a meal! "My tummy is a bit upset" I say as I rub it. "better drink something" I grab the glass of soda that you had brought me. I drink all of it in one go. "I can't believe this is actually sugar free" I say surprised "it tastes like one of those cheap soda's that is super b-BRUUAUUAUAAAAAAAAAP-ad " I look wide eyed and cover my mouth with a blush "s-sorry!"

"Haha that was pretty cool!" i say immediately so as to not make you think i dislike it. I cant let you know that youve given me a hard on with that deep nasty belch, at least not yet. "I don't mind babe" i say as i nuzzle in right next to you on the bed. "in fact if anything it lets me know you really enjoyed whatever i made for you so no need to apologize." i say as i keep my hand on your bloated stuffed belly, giving it a good rub. "I guess you reallly loved those cookies huh, hehe"

"I-I do" I say blushing as you rub my belly…it felt good, but it also made me a bit aware of the fact that I was softer now. "I mean…its just not very lady like to burp like that right?" I smile as you roll your eyes at me "BRUUAAAAP…ooohhff but it does make my tummy feel better"

I moan to myself making sure you don't hear me. "I'm glad you like them" i reply, both to your answer and to that big burp you let out. We spend a few more minutes like this with me rubbing your rounded gut, making you get used to the feeling, making you love my hands on your tummy, making you know i like those un-lady like burps. Im slowly easing your mind into its new state. The state of pure gluttony. Before i get up from bed i decide to try one more thing, i grab your belly and give it a hard pinch and lean up next to your ear "You were a good girl today, keep eating like this and soon you'll be like those fatties at the gym". I whispered it and said it in a teasing tone, but i could tell by your breathing…it did its job. My eyes go wide and my face goes dark red. Did he really just say that?…Is he making a joke?…why do I like him teasing and humiliating me?! I look down and my heart beats even faster, judging by the bulge in your pants…you really liked seeing me like this. "w-what?….a-are you trying to make me fat?" I ask in a soft voice. You just smile, gently kiss my belly before squeezing it again and leave with the empty plates…Am I really going to get fat?

[prettyplaythingbaby]

It's been a little while since I touched myself, longer since I made myself cum. (It's been like. 4 months since I've had sex at all 😭)

But I just got sex toys yes? My favorite company was having a sale, so I got myself a dildo and a vibrator!! I tried to use the vibrator but it's been so long and I didn't wanna cum too fast so I moved it away but ohhhh the dildo

It's not a huge, coke can sized thing, it's 5" long and maybe an inch or so in diameter, but it has an amazing curve. I'm small, my hands are small, my longest finger is only like 3" long! Not nearly enough to make a difference

I started slow, rubbing and playing with my clit how I usually do. I was sooo impatient but I didn't wanna end fast and it was so hard to choose! So I edged twice, made sure I was soakingggg dripping and making a mess and I just. I shoved it in. I hadn't put anything in me in about 2 weeks until literally a half hour ago so it was honestly a struggle, i was so tight and tense but I was so slick I made it happen

God I thought I was gonna choke, I couldn't breathe with how muchhh I felt. So big and hard and much and it was just this side of too painful and it was so so so good. I had to stop- once I had allll of the dildo inside me I just took my hands away and rested. It felt so good just to be full I actually cockwarmed for about 10 minutes- as long as I could make myself wait lol.

I rubbed my clit a few times, but I wanted a bit more so I smacked my pussy as hard as I could and oh god it was so gooooooddd. The pain and the force and the dildo inside me fucking me and the way I clenched so hard and I had to do it again and again and again! I swear I'm gonna have bruises inside me from how tight I was clenching, it's amazing

I pulled the dildo almost out and the first time I fucked myself I literally came. I came so hard I think I screamed, but I don't even rememberrr.

Here, though, once I came for the first time I grabbed the vibrator and, dildo still firmly inside me, I overstimulated myself through 2 more orgasms until I started crying from the stimulation.

Now, I'm lying on my bed with the dildo still in me, wet, tired, sore, and honestly? Wishing I was in more pain. This was great, 10/10, but it's not a replacement for good, rough, kinky sex

[sunskate]

FD-

with nearly half the teams cut after the RD, the FD was all teams who had Grand Prix assignments (except S/F who weren't yet eligible 🇨🇦→🇮🇪)

PiriHara's Chicago program was a surprise - it hadn't made much of an impression over a stream, but what do you know, Broadway is better live 😅

Olivia and Tim - they never did work out the timing glitches in this program. at least he made it to the end without struggling so much condition-wise like he did at Challenge Cup a few weeks ago. catching up to her in one season was a tall order. i really love how languid and easy she can make it look while covering big ice. send him to IAMO for the summer. it's no consolation to them, but going below both sibling teams allowed the Czech Republic to keep 2 spots for next Worlds

Taschlers were low balled - in no reality should they be below Davis/Smolkin

the swan lakes - D/S in this context, skating against strong teams, look so very small, shallow and with not much ice coverage. it doesn't help that they picked huge music that normally would be danced by an entire stage full of swans. plus their music cut had a couple awful jarring edits - the audacity to slug in extra notes in Tchaikovsky 💀 i might be the only one so bothered lol

the Mrazeks by comparison looked smoother and faster and smarter in that they picked some of the gentler swan lake music including the waltz. for a first year senior team, they can be proud. another first year team who's been even more stellar is Hannah and Ye -

omg they were so good - they're able to be so emotional without feeling over the top. just expressive and connected to each other. lovely ❤️

i like Demougeot/LeMercier - i'm going to look forward to see what they do next. i hope they keep being quirky

really happy to see T/V and R/A live - T/V are willowy and ethereal, and her ballet background shows. but i don't think they get down into the ice. i like this FD a lot, but the interest in it is in those arm movements and elements more so than the skating. R/A i liked the RD a little more than the FD but like them very much

CPom are raising their game all the time - so happy for them and their well earned rise. what i love is that not only do you see them becoming better skaters and performers, but you can see they believe - their confidence in themselves is at a completely different place than it was 2 years ago

omg, live i didn't see just how long Charlene's skirt was caught on her blade at the end. idk if Barbara in the kiss and cry was holding her breath to see if the judges used the little mistakes to put F/G ahead. thank god they didn't, because G/F still have such a higher quality

and Piper and Paul - this program uses the glide and sweep of the music to emphasize that in the skating in a beautiful way. a skated program is so much more satisfying than an element-fest like C/B's. as impressive as their elements and performances can be, i don't know if i've ever been moved by a program of theirs

my favorite of the entire event - LaLa - i was crying by the gorgeous OFt. they alone would have been worth the trip. but gratitude to all the skaters and their coaches - my cup's full. i'm still processing

[debbiechanclub]

(disclaimer that I’m not out here simping for or trying to defend a million dollar company, just a fan with frustrations)

the njpw/aew partnership has always felt incredibly unbalanced. FTR didn’t defend or talk about the IWGP tag belts and skipped out on WTL, Kenny (as much as I love the dude) has done 0 with the US belt, AEW did nothing to promote Willow being part of the Strong Tournament. Desperado set a match with Mox and that didn’t get mentioned. They didn’t even talk about Dominion until after it happened. New Japan social media and commentary make a big effort to keep continuity and talk about things going on in their partner promotions.

Even with Takeshita. DDT has tweeted about the heel turn, their wrestlers have mentioned it, I cannot remember the last time DDT was even mentioned on the show

I get that All Together Again and the Road Tour means 90% of their roster is booked up and it would be a struggle to appear live. But a build to a show doesn’t need to be done 2 weeks before. This is something we should have had going since tickets went on sale. Or at the very least, ask them to film backstage promos to send in, not just play the promotional videos and press conferences that New Japan did themselves.

Sorry, you sent this after I fell asleep, but I agree with everything you've said! Like, I'm not even trying to shit on AEW―it's just facts.

FTR and Kenny were the first people I thought of when Aussie Open had to relinquish the IWGP and Strong tag titles even though Mark would only be out 6 weeks. And Kevin Kelly explained at a later date that if the Dominion match hadn't been set they could have just kept the titles which, okay, fine. But that doesn't change that FTR and Kenny just sat/are just sitting on their respective titles. Also, I was Big Mad when Kenny defended the US title against Jeff Cobb on Dynamite and not a few weeks later at Capital Collision. Like, that's an NJPW belt, my guy. Kenny by God Omega coulda shoulda woulda brought soooooo many more eyes to Capital Collision/NJPW. (And I thought he would have known better, too? That was his home for years?)

But you hit the nail on the head—it's an unbalanced relationship and I frankly don't know what NJPW is getting out of it? Forbidden Door 2 is probably gonna be another routing of their talent like the first FD was.

And like you said, there's absolutely ways to work around people not being able to come to America in order to build a feud/to a PPV. But like I said to that anon, David Finlay been around and available. AEW had the time to meaningfully address the long, long history between him and BOTH Jay and Juice. Juice literally turned on Finlay to join Bullet Club and now Finlay is the leader and you're just gonna ignore that?! And Jay's been exiled from NJPW but he's still out here acting like he's in Bullet Club?! As if (in storyline) Finlay would just allow that happen?! PLEASE. Make it make sense.

Editing to add: there's still a chance to meaningfully introduce the White/Finlay feud AT Forbidden Door. As I said, Jay's been kayfabe exiled from NJPW (and working with NJPW talent, I believe?), so he really SHOULD NOT be anywhere near Toronto on June 25th if they're gonna uphold that. But he could show up because it's also an AEW event. And then Finlay could show up and be like, "Wtf do you think you're doing?" And boom, there you go. I HOPE that happens, genuinely. If not... I will fly to Florida just to smack Tony Khan.