#he came home so i wanted to write for him

[prettyboykatsuki]

lightning strike | h. iwaizumi

✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader, recently established relationship, mutual pining, pwp, dry humping + making out, nipple play, implied raw sex, super love-dovey, deliberate name change from iwaizumi to hajime 18+

✮ wc ; 4k (???????)

✮ a/n ; something deeply frightening happened to me in writing this but whatever. made it with ten minutes to spare happy bday mr iwaizumi

pls be nice if characterization is everywhere its been a while

He’s nervous.  

So nervous. 

You laugh at him over a can of beer, even harder when he visibly flinches at the sound. The room is too quiet since all of your company has left for the evening. Iwaizumi is tipsy but not drunk - though you think if he has another can he’ll get there just fine.  

“Your face is gonna get stuck if you keep frowning.”  

He shoots you a glare that makes your lips quirk up. “Shut up. You sound like my Ma.”  

“How is she by the way? Still good?”  

Iwaizumi snorts and takes a long sip of his beer. He tilts his head back against the couch, arm stretched along the seats. His muscles pull taut underneath the skintight material of his turtleneck. You find yourself sitting on your hands to calm down, but you’re too unfocused for it too work.  

“She’s good. She likes the countryside. Been growing squash and tomatoes and everything. Gonna try and stay with her a bit during off-season,” His voice is wistful and affectionate. An only son, filial and polite - you smile at him lovingly. “You should come visit with me.”  

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Guess it’s the same since we’ve already met but since we’re going steady I though you might be too nervous.”  

The realization settles in too late. Just when you thought he’d swallow the nerves down, they make an appearance once again. He sits up straight, clearing his throat, diverting his gaze to the coffee table separating you both. A blush spreads up, all through his body. His ears turn especially turn some shade of cherry red. Dusts all along his nose. He tsks at you, tongue clicking with a familiar petulance. You bite back a laugh.  

“Going steady? Seriously?”  

“Well,” Your face twists in mischief as you look up at him, your eyes locking briefly. “You’d get all hissy if I called us lovers.”  

His eyes go wide - in equal parts shock and mild disgust. You can’t hold the laugh back that time time no matter how hard you try. It bubbles up out of you, euphoric and hysterical. Your laughter is too loud to savor his displeasure, so caught up in it that it takes you a few minutes to calm down again,  

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi mumbles. A grin splits your face. 

“No, you don’t.”  

He frowns and his blush darkens just a touch  

The room goes quiet save for the sound of your heartbeat. You try and collect yourself. The house feels too quiet, all prior company absen. Not that Mattsun and Maki dragged out Oikawa to be considerate of your newfound love or anything. You’re sure you’ve already gotten a long text detailing your extortion related to the favor. Still, you’re glad to be alone with him.  

It’s easy to split your time between all of them separately when you’re all in the same place - but complicated to be all together. And alone time with Iwaizumi has always been hard to come by.  

You’ve been pining for him since highschool - the frequency you wish to see him tuned tuned by the passing years of your relationship and feelings. You’ve gone through the whole spectrum of desires. From wanting to see him everyday constantly, to hoping you’d never have to see him again. It took you well over a decade to make any progress, and the entire process (while surely heartfelt) has been unmistakably clumsy and so, so long.  

Spending alone time with Iwaizumi has thus always been complicated except for this one time. You got together, officially, just last week. The day he came home, where you incidentally found yourselves alone together. Something that’d been rare years prior due to said pining and trying to get over him. You don’t even really know how it happened. It felt like the most significant moment in your life thus far and incomparably anticlimatic at once. He was just sending you home since you’d got completely shitfaced, and before you left you grabbed him by the collar and announced it. Just like that.  

(You threw up half-way through the car ride back. Your Uber was nice enough to pull over so you didn’t do it in his car.) 

You went home after and didn’t speak for days. It took a few more days for either of you to work up the courage to sort things out forreal, but you made it work with the help of even more alcohol.  

Things get busy though, when Oikawa returns home and Hajime is off-season. It’s rare things line up, and when they do - it’s only natural you spend all your time together. You did today too, celebrating Iwaizumi’s birthday among the four of you with take-out and Godzilla movies on your nice flatscreen.  

But you haven’t been alone with each other since your chat establishing your relationship as not a pipe-dream, which was notably through text.  

He’s nervous, so incredibly nervous but so are you. Just a little.  

You look up after being lost in thought - to see Iwaizumi stare at you. The air shifts slow and steady, thick tension stirring in your gut. You bite the inside of your cheek, rubbing your feet together as you fold over yourself, chin resting on your knee. 

You wonder if you should be the one to break the distance. Iwaizumi beats you to the punch this time. You suppose you’re even.  

“Come ‘ere.”  

He pushes the coffee table farther away from him with ease, careful not to knock anything over. Your tipsy self swoons over his competence, but you’re sure you’d do the same sober.  

The look he gives you as you crawl over to him makes you feel bashful. You go over until you’re sitting side by side - stretching your legs out. Your thighs barely touches. Iwaizumi jolts, swiping a hand over his face in exasperation.  

“Sorry,”  

You shake your head. “It’s okay.” Because it is, then just to make sure. “Are we okay?”  

“More than okay,” He admits, a breath of relief following the words. “It was a good birthday, by the way. Thank you.”  

“They’ll get upset that you only thanked me,”  

He bristles immediately making you giggle. “I’ll thank those knuckleheads later.” 

You smile at him, wide and bright. He looks at you before quickly looking away, laughing a little humorlessly to himself. You wonder what he’s thinking about but decide against asking, comfortable letting him go at whatever speed.  

“Can I uh—“ He clears his throat. “Wanna kiss you. Just uhh… shit.”  

You’d love to tease him, but you feel like your heart might explode out of your body so there’s not really much room. Nodding, you sit up on your knees and turn a little to face him. His features soften with remarkable fondness. You flush at the sudden attention. He sits up straighter, turning his head to face you. His forehead knocks against yours softly, noses brushes. His eyes are so sharp. You have to close your own when you feel him leaning in to kiss you.  

Iwaizumi is warm. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. His hands feel big as one snakes up to cup your neck. He gives you one deep kiss, followed by two pecks before pulling away to make you chase him. He rewards you by kissing you agai. The sudden pressure makes your head spin.  

You pull away dazed. “You’re… super good at kissing.”  

“Yeah?”  

You press your thighs together at his reply. So sexy it’s unfair. “Uh-huh.”  

He gives you a weighted hum. 

His reaction spurs you on then. You pull away from him momentarily. Iwaizumi stares at you in reply, worry making his brow furrow. Before he can get the words out, you seat yourself on his lap. He’s taken aback as he realizes your intent, your arms around his neck. It’s not even really the alcohol, as much as it’s everything else. Cramped in your living room together, pressed up against your couch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and shiver in his arms smelling his cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine. He hesitates, hands settling so carefully on your hips.  

He lets you stay like that undisturbed until you’re ready to pull away. Like he senses you needed that. He’s always been so good at knowing what exactly you need. Suddenly restless you decide you need to look at him again - make sure he’s real. That this is real.  

“Hey,” He mutters. His pitch is low, sends your heart hammering.  

You giggle, fluttering nervously. “Hi,” And then, “You like me,”  

“Pfft,” His voice is so tender, so soft, so comforting. “More than that.”  

Suddenly overwhelmed by your own giddiness, you squeak. You want to bury yourself in his shoulder again, but he’s quick to hold your wrist and stop you. He pins you under his gaze. It’s so intense you can’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Your head is empty and all he’s doing is looking at you.  

But maybe that’s the whole problem. He’s looking at you, and you’ve wanted that for more than a decade. Now having it is too much, too suddenly - and you’re almost afraid of having it. It’s just a gaze, but it’s yours. He’s telling he’s yours in a way that’s just like him.  

“You…” He starts on something before letting you go. “For a long time,”  

He doesn’t need to explain. You already know.  

“Me too,” 

He calms down when you get it..  

“Really?” He follows up. He doesn’t look at you as he goes on. “How long?”  

You think on it.  

“Since we were fifteen?”  

“Same as me, then.” He’s clumsy with the follow-up. “That’s…”  

“Dumb? Ridiculous? Too long?” You say, filling in the words for him. “I know.”  

The extent of your own longing comes to you in waves. Love, like the sea trapped behind ice - so easily shattered. You’re drowning, your lungs aching trying to get adjusted to what is finally yours. The shock of it comes and goes, but you’re surrounded by it all the same. Iwaizumi stares at you and you stare back and nothing in the world exists except this desire you’ve kept to yourself for years.  

His name comes out like a whimper on your lips. “Iwaizumi,”  

“Hajime,” He corrects, so tender. So sweet to you. “Please,”  

“Hajime,” You test the name out on your tongue. It’s sweet.  

He doesn’t say anything after that.  

Your breath hitches as Hajime crowds into your space again. His hands are firm on your hips as he kisses you again. It’s different from before, lingers longer - his tongue pressing along the seam of your lips until you open them and allow him in deeper.The taste of alcohol is clearer on your tongue, bitter remnants of malt making you drool at the corners of your mouth. You kiss hungrily, your hands carding through the short, black hair with a longing sigh. Hajime groans a little when you tug at the root and the only thing you can think to do is try to sink into him further. .  

The hear raises without warning. Your skin under your clothes feels like it’s on fire. It feels different too suddenly for you to adjust and keep completely calm. Lust that borders cosmic engraves into your bones. Crumbling under the weight of it, you kiss Hajime like your life would end without it. In the moment, it feels like it would. Exchanged breaths are the only source of air for that space and time. You feel frantic, hazy - and Hajime who you know to be so steady, proves to be in the same place as you. 

His hands are so big. You can feel how tight he grabs you, his thumb pressing into your hipbones - itching to go lower. You don’t want to pull away but you want more. In the second you take a breath you tell him as much. Your own delirium might bring you shame if you were in any place to really feel it. “You can touch me. However you want.”  

“Fuck. Don’t say that.”  

“Hajime, please.”  

You mutter something but you don’t catch what it really. Your head is swimming with unrepentant ardor and your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. Hajime kisses you again and takes the lead. The pleasure echoes in how you sigh, your hips rutting against his lap as his hands squeeze your ass. His hands are so fucking big - strong and kind and hold you with no uncertainty. The groping goes straight to your cunt, stomach starting to twist with familiar arousal. You push your hips against him again.  

You’re hardly thinking about it. Hardly thinking at all - no coherency or sense thrumming through your brain except his name. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. An incantation of destiny. A love song.  

You feel his fingers inch up to go underneath your shirt - all of a sudden feeling burdened by all the layers between you. You can’t calm down. 

He pulls away from you first in that instance. Before you can ask, he nudges himself close to your neck, kissing along your jaw. You feel the fabric of your shirt tug. “Can I take this off?”  

You nod rapidly, then mimic him wanting him to do the same. His laugh is raspy in the follow through - your shirt and bra discarded somewhere on the floor. He stops suddenly, flicking his gaze up to you like he’s asking permission again. You just nod, not knowing how else to convey your desires.  

Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal and cool air. Hajime’s tongue flicks from his lips.  

His gaze makes you feel ticklish. He runs his palms over your tits with an appreciative noise. His eyes linger long enough to make your skin go hot all over, your spine prickling with heat.  

“Staring,”  

He looks up at your face, amused by your pout then kisses you as he feels you up, calloused palms brushing against your nipples, tits fitting perfectly in his hands. He smiles a little against your mouth. “Guess I am.”  

“Take yours off,” You plea. 

He obliges you, peeling the tight shirt away from his body and leaving his bare torso in full view. The proximity makes your lungs tighten like they can’t get enough air - heat radiating from his skin. His physique is toned, layers of muscle soft and comfortable He’s structured and gorgeous like a statue. You’re greeted by his broad chest and the corded muscles of his biceps. All sinew and strength, down his core. Strong and stable and big everywhere you could possibly look. You feel awestruck, mouth-watering at the sight - clit throbbing. Objectively attractive, you’re sure anyone in your place would feel the same. But this is your Hajime and the body he’s worked so hard on, full grown and yours. The trail of hairs down his stomach, getting coarse. The v-line of his waist makes you clench. 

 Too much.  

 The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, like water spilling from a broken dam. “I want you to fuck me so bad,”  

His brows raise. You can feel something twitch hard against your clothed pussy. At full mast underneath the confines of his pants. \Your eyes go wet when you realize what it is. Mind sticky, you draw your lips into a pout and silent protest. Despite your desperation, you almost want to say it again, pleasure thrumming through your body at his reaction. It feels like electricity sparking up from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. 

 Hajime presses his face to your neck all over again - hot, open mouth kisses trailing from jaw to chest. You gasp when his mouth closes around your tits, tongue laving over the tender skin and making your back arch.  

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” He mirrors. His voice is scratchy and his grip is tight. “Been wanting to fuck you so bad for so long, you have no idea.”  

There’s something true and well pathetic about the yearning that wells up inside of your gut and settles itself in your sternum. It spreads and grows and tangles in your ribs, curls around the vessels of your heartbeat. The kind of yearning that makes your whole being tremble, makes you want to preen and sing like a canary. It’d be good if time stood still so he could fuck you infintely - never being able to go where you can’t reach.  

You rock against him and Hajime holds you steady like always. His voice drops down to murmur - speaking with alarming clarity. You’re teary from the sound of his voice.  

“Let’s cum together,” He offers as reprieve, so sweet despite the harsh grip on your hips as he draws your weight down closer to him. You’re suddenly conscious of your choice in clothes - how thin the fabric of your shorts really as as the rough outline of his cock presses against the seam. You’re glad you didn’t wear underwear “And then I’ll make you cum again. I’ll take care of you,”  

“You always take care of me,” You say with no awareness of your surroundings. He laughs breathlessly. ‘ 

“Yeah..since it’s you, it’s easy.”  

You go wide-eyed but don’t get a minute to dissect. Not bothering to unbutton his jeans, you gape at the hard outline of his cock confined in black boxers. his  He picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as your spine touches the carpet of your living room floor. You make a surprised noise as you’re let down gently. He doesn’t unfurl you from him. You spark back to life as his lips meet yours again chastely. The complaint you had dies on your lips when he trails down your jaw again. His voice is next to your ear, sinfully rough - warm breath tickling your skin. His teeth tug on your ear lobe and you shiver.  

“Tell me if it’s too much,”  

You don’t get a chance to ask about it.  

The sudden motion of his hard cock rutting and humping against your sticky, wet cunt punches the air of out of your lungs.  

There’s only a single layer of wet fabric keeping him from fucking you.  The very idea makes your pussy throb unhelpfully. You understand all of a sudden that this was what he meant about wanting to make you cum. But it’s Hajime, your Hajime - so making you do any work wouldn’t cut it. Humping you in missionary of all things like he’s already inside you.  

The thought overwhelms and you gasp.  

You don’t recognize the sound of your own voice, so high and pitchy with need. Pure pornography. But there’s no camera for you perform for, nothing but Hajime above with with a heavy gaze. Your spine arches at the sensation once it hits its stride, the angle of friction just right. The indirect touches makes your core throb. Your clit has been achingly sensitive for so long, and the release of tension in a single thrust is enough to make you shudder each time. It feels like you’ve been holding the feeling in your entire life. You wheeze his name out brokenly as he does it again - a sharp thrust, precise enough to be perfect like he already knows you that well.  

Your lower body feels week as the arousal starts to climb to a steady chorus. You pant for him like a bitch in heat.  

He’s not inside you but the smack of his hips against yours makes you feel like you’re getting fucked anyways. You imagine how it’ll feel when he really fucks you and can’t see straight after the fact. Each little movement spreads precum along your shorts, already wet with your own arousal. The friction of the damp fabric makes you cry out from pleasure,  animalistic with need. Your nails dig into his biceps as he kisses you all over, wherever he can possible reach. Along your neck, shoulders, collarbones chest. Any place he has accsess.  

You want him so fucking deep it’s frustrating, want him up to your throat - but the lack of direct touch makes you want him more desperately. And it makes it feel so, so good. The kind of pleasure that’s dull and throbbing but makes something in your spine go alight, like shoving your thumb into a bruise. You want Hajime to press himself into you hard enough to make the healed dull yellows vibrant purple and red all over again.  

You gasp helplessly each time he rocks his hips into you. He’s whispering such filth against your ear, into your mouth each time you kiss and you can’t reply with anything but his name. He praises you each time anyway, goads you into saying it again. Again and again and again until you can’t find your own voice.  

“Say it again,” Hoarse, punctuated by another thrust that nearly drives you over the edge and makes your eyes go wide. “Say my name again, baby”  

“Hajime.” So you say it- can’t think of any substitute since you’re not sure god would suffice. Locked between you in the warm sticky air is just Hajime, all yours.  

Every muscle in your body starts to lock up as you hit the final stride to your orgasm. You want to cum so badly for him and only him. All over his cock in any way he’ll light you. The thought pushes you over the edge. Over and over and over until you hang over the precipice of your own orgasm. When it hits, it hits like a crash of thunder on open plain. Like suddenly everything in you that’s every been grounded in Earth is scattered with sparks, skating and careening across your body. You feel him in the fiber of your being. Your toes curl at the sudden release, not able to voice a warning that isn’t just a soft gargle in the back of your throat. He doesn’t stop or stutter in his motion, instead gripping your hips tight as he can while lets you run through your high - nothing but praise and affection.  

You can feel him more than you can see him cum along with you. Sticky, hot seed flowing in spurts as his dick twitches for you - his ragged breathing covering your skin in goosebumps. You moan at the warm sensation drenching your poor, covered pussy and find the load to be wasted though you feel contented anyway. 

 You’re barely sane enough to catch your breath, but he eventually lets you down - though you can’t keep from hugging him. You pull back to look at each other.  

You brush the sweat matted hair away from his forehead with a lovesick sigh and giggle. He looks down at you with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours with.  

“Can’t believe I came in my pants like a teenager,” He says through a laugh.  

“It’s like making up for lost time,” You say warmly, all floaty. “Plus, the way you were fucking me but not fucking me…definitely a man. It was really hot, you know?”  

He groans. “I’ll get riled up again.”  

You smile at him. “Let’s fuck lots for your birthday, Hajime.”  

“Is that the present you mentioned earlier?”  

You pretend to think on it. “Mm..no. Not just the sex, anyway.” 

He looks at you confused as you lean in closer to him. “It’s safe so there’s no condoms anywhere in this apartment, unless you wanna go stop to get some.”  

He gives you a blown out look of lust with a soft breath, voice bordering a growl. “As if I’d make it through the door now.”  

You laugh helplessly happy and kiss him. “Happy birthday.” And then a little quieter. “I love you.”  

He softens visibly but doesn’t say anything else. You don’t need to hear him to know.  

You think the spare copy of your keys might make him cry. So you decide you’ll give it to him later. 

 The clock hasn’t hit midnight yet, anyhow. You have plenty of time.  

Now and always.  

[vivwritesfics]

High On Believing

Chapter One - The Anniversary

Meet Daniel Ricciardo and his wife. Two single parents meeting because of their kids. This is their story after marriage, of raising their kids, of their loving family.

(Note: yes, this is the second series of HOAF. But I'm trying to write this in a way that you don't have to read the first series to read this one)

2.5K

"Happy anniversary, Mrs Ricciardo."

"Happy anniversary, Mr Ricciardo." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her across the bed, pulling her closer. He pressed a tender kiss to her lips that soon turned not so tender.

After almost five years together, three of those years being married, she was used to it. But she wasn't tired of it. She'd never be tired of it. She leaned into it, body slotting beneath his.

Daniel pressed his chest against her own, hands cradling her head. The way he kissed her was so damn loving. She moved her fingers through his curls, pulling a damn sweet moan from his lips.

Morning sex, it had become a tradition on their anniversary. Of course, it wasn't only on their anniversary that they enjoyed a slow, sensual morning fuck as the sun crested over the trees surrounding their home.

But, they had children. Three of them, in fact.

Olivia, Daniel's daughter and her stepdaughter, came barging into the room. "Happy anniversary!" She shouted at the top of her lungs as her parents rolled away from each other, holding the blanket protectively to their bodies.

"Badger," Daniel began, tone suggesting that he was scolding her. "What're you... can we have five minutes of peace before we get up?"

But Olivia wasn't alone. Soon Milo, her son and Daniel's stepson, was running into the room behind her, with two and a half year old Beau Ricciardo on his hip.

Beau was the son they biologically shared. He was her spitting image, with Daniel's eyes and nose. When Daniel saw Beau's nose, he almost cried. But he realised just how gorgeous their little boy was, with his nose and his eyes. Their little family of five (well six, including the cat) was complete.

She tapped her phone in quick succession, checking the time. "Kids, why are you up so early?" She asked as Milo placed Beau on the floor.

Beau toddled towards his dad and made grabby hands towards him. Keeping himself covered up, Daniel picked Beau up and kissed his chubby little cheeks.

"I need to get to the track," Olivia answered.

"Crap," Daniel hissed. In his excitement for their three year anniversary, he'd completely forgotten that Olivia had a race that day. "Right, kids, take Beau and get yourselves some breakfast while your mum and I get dressed, okay?"

Even after all these years, Daniel referring to her as Olivia's mum as well as Milo's warmed her heart. Immediately, Olivia had taken to it. She didn't call her mum, just as Milo didn't call Daniel dad, but she didn't protest when Daniel referred to her as 'Olivia's mum'.

Olivia nodded. She grabbed her baby brother from the bed and carried him out of the room, leading Milo. As soon as they were outside and the door was shut, Daniel was back on top of her, giving her one final kiss.

"As soon as we're done at the track, I'm gonna put another baby in you," he whispered against her lips.

She gently pushed at his chest, pushing him up and out of the bed. "You concentrate on our girl, okay? You can concentrate on putting a baby in me later."

"That a promise, Mrs Ricciardo?" Daniel asked as he pulled a shirt over his head.

She grinned as she began getting herself dressed. "Of course, Mr Ricciardo."

Mrs Ricciardo. It had been three years and she still wasn't over it. It still had that bubbly feeling beginning in her chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, unable to stop herself from kissing him one last time.

Daniel dipped her. He had his arms around her midsection and dipped her. It was what he wanted to do at their wedding, but she was pregnant with their Beau and he couldn't. So Daniel was making up for it, dipping her, hooking her leg around his hips.

"DAD!"

They broke away from each other. Daniel hurried downstairs as she continued getting ready for the day.

Their days were set to be wildly different. It may have been their anniversary, the day they wanted to spend together, but their kids came first. Olivia had to be at the track, and Milo needed some new art supplies.

Daniel drank his coffee and held up Beau's orange juice, trying to get him to take it on his down. Beau took it, but immediately pushed it onto the floor. The lid of his cup opened easily (a testament of how many times it had been dropped before) and Daniel set about clearing it up as Olivia finished her breakfast.

"Dad, we gotta go," she said as she collected her stuff.

"Give me a minute, Badger," he replied as he used the paper towel to wipe up the juice from the floor. He placed the cup on the counter, threw away the soiled paper towels, and grabbed his keys. He threw them to Olivia. "Get in, I'll be there soon," he said and headed towards the stairs.

Daniel had just meant to shout up, to say goodbye to his wife and let her know that Beau hadn't had his juice (he threw it around, sure, but god help you if you cross Beau who hasn't had his morning juice). But there she stood, at the stop of the stairs, looking gorgeous. "Holy fuck," he hissed as she descended the stairs.

"Danny." She rolled her eyes, but he offered her his hand. Ever the romantic, he held her as he walked down the bottom two steps and pulled her into his chest.

Damn, he loved this woman. His hands squeezed her hips as he kissed her again. She ran her hands through his hair, trying to tame his curls. But there was no use, and that was just how she loved him.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. "Beau hasn't had his juice yet," he said as he gently rocked her from side to side.

"I can't believe you're leaving me with the monster."

The gasp Daniel let out was so dramatic, and he couldn't hide his smile. "I can't believe you just called our son a monster," he said and kissed her forehead. "He's just spirited, and that's gonna make him a future world champion, after Olivia, of course."

He leaned in, capturing his wife's lips one last time. Well, he would have kept going. Except...

"DAD! WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

He pulled away for real this time. "Bye, boys," he said to his sons as he walked past, placing a kiss on both of their foreheads. As they all wished Olivia good luck, she and Daniel were running out of the door.

Y/N Ricciardo let out a content sigh as she walked into the kitchen. Her life really was perfect.

"What're we doing today, Milo?" She asked as she got another cup of juice for Beau. This time holding it so he couldn't throw it everywhere.

Milo finished his breakfast. "I just need art stuff, momma," he said as he began to clear away his cereal bowl. He placed it in the dishwasher and walked out of the kitchen.

His mother turned to Beau, a frown on her face. "Should we take Milo to get some ice cream?" She asked as she brushed his curls back from his forehead.

"Ice cream! Beau cheered as she took his empty bottle away.

Picking Beau up from his chair, she carried him upstairs. "Heading out soon, Miley!" She called as she gently knocked on the door. He called something back and she took Beau into his bedroom.

Beau seemed to take joy in her parent's suffering. As his mother tried to get his little legs into a cute little pair of shorts, he was kicking his feet. Some days it was a two parent job, one of them holding him still while the other slipped his shorts over his legs.

(There had been times, where Daniel was out of Australia, racing on the other side of the world, that she cried. It was stupid, but Beau wasn't letting her get him dressed and it had all gotten to be too much.)

"Not today, little man," she said and rushed to get him dressed, moving so fast that he couldn't kick off his clothes.

One she was dressed, she grabbed his bag, swung it over her shoulder, and placed Beau on her hip. She held him as she marched out of the room and walked down the hall to knock on Milo's door.

After a moment she pushed it open. There Milo was, looking through his desk, making a list of what he needed. The list was so long, things he and his mother never would have been able to afford before Daniel came into their lives.

Grabbing a backpack, Milo followed his mother out of the house. She shut the door behind them and took the boys over to the car. Her car, the car she'd had since before she'd met Daniel. He would have bought her a new car, she knew that, but she'd grown attached to the shitty little car that had gotten her and Milo around for so long.

Milo climbed into the front as she buckled Beau into the back of the car. "Momma," Milo began as she started the ignition and pulled out of the driveway. "Can we go and watch Olivia at the track next time?"

Before she pulled out of the driveway, she grinned at her son. "Of course we can, Miley. You wanna have a go?"

At that, he shook his head. He didn't want to start karting, didn't want to move on to single seaters and become a Formula One driver. That was Olivia's dream, not his. But he liked watching. Liked sitting there with his sketchbook open.

They went to the art store, getting Milo everything he needed and more. Beau made grabby hands at everything they passed, but his mother held him still.

As soon as they were done in the art store and Milo's new supplies were in the back of the car, the three of them got ice cream. Milo sat there with a Cherry Berry cone while his mother shared a cup of dairy free, vanilla ice cream with Beau. Between licks of his ice cream, Milo spoke. He spoke about anything and everything that came to mind.

And, as the three of them climbed into the car, art supplies in the boot and bellies full of ice cream, Daniel drove Olivia home from the track.

He held one hand towards Olivia, hand in a fist as he drove. "Pound it," he said and she let go of her little trophy just long enough to fist bump her dad. "I'm gonna have to put up a trophy shelf for you, aren't I?"

Olivia thought about it for a second. "I think a shelf might be a bit small, Dad," he said with a toothy grin.

"That's my girl!" He cheered and turned up the radio. The two of them sung along to whatever was playing from his phone as he drove her back to the house.

As they turned into the driveway, Olivia turned down the radio. "Dad, can we go with you to the next Grand Prix?" She asked as they pulled up in front of the garage.

"What about school, Badger?"

She pouted as she climbed out of the car. "C'mon, dad! I wanna see uncle Max and everyone," she said as she grabbed her bag from the back of the car.

Daniel gave her a look, one Olivia gave right back. The puppy dog eyes. Why had he taught her that? "I'll talk to Y/N," he said and locked the car.

Grinning, Oliva skipped back towards the house. "We're back!" She shouted the moment she walked inside. All sweaty and disgusting, she strode towards the kitchen and placed her trophy on the table, placing it on top of Milo's new sketchbook.

"So," asked Y/N as she turned away from the sink. "How did it go, Liv?"

Before Olivia could open her mouth, her father placed his hand on her shoulder. "Shower first, Badger. And then you can tell them all about how brilliant you were."

Olivia let out a groan, but she headed upstairs, headed towards the bathroom.

Daniel strode towards his wife, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "She was great," he said with a smile before he kissed her. "We've got a future world champion on our hands.

Her arms were around his neck as she kissed him again. "We'll go with you next time," she said, fingers playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

Daniel grinned. He kissed her cheeks and her neck, keeping his arms around her as he turned towards his boys. "What're you drawing?" He asked as he looked over Milo's shoulder.

Milo pushed his sketchbook to the middle of the notebook, letting Daniel see what he was working on. It was incredibly cool, a comic strip that took inspiration from Jurassic park. His son was talented, but Daniel knew that already. "Say, Mi, d'you think you'd wanna design my next helmet?"

***

Mr and Mrs Ricciardo didn't need some big, fancy anniversary dinner. Not when they had their kids with them.

Milo sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, putting his new pencils to good use. Every few minutes he was turning back towards Daniel, before turning to the piece of paper in front of him.

The television was playing as the rest of the family sat on the couch behind him. Beau sat on his father's lap and Olivia was against the arm of the chair, tucking into her dinner.

It was a special one, the five of them tucking into the Chinese. The food was crap and they all knew it, but they were happy.

Daniel picked Beau up as he stood. He sat Beau down in his mother's lap and leaned down to kiss her. "Happy anniversary, Mrs Ricciardo," he whispered.

"Happy anniversary, Mr Ricciardo."

But then Daniel was covering Beau's ears as he leaned closer to his wife. "Think we can make another?" He whispered in her ear.

She reached out and smacked his shoulder. Daniel just laughed and kissed her head. "I'm not saying yes, but that's not a definite no," she said as he picked up their plates and took them back to the kitchen.

Suddenly, Milo and Olivia were staring at her. "What's not a definite no, mum?" Milo asked. He looked at Olivia and back at his mother.

The embarrassment was written on her face as she shook her head. "Nothing, kids. Let's just watch the movie, yeah?" She said and ran her fingers through Beau's curls.

Mrs Ricciardo loved her little family.

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[gothcsz]

The Boy is Mine | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~7k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become obsessed with the new DEA attaché.

Tags: oral (m receiving), stalking, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation (f), we're humping a pillow y'all, light spanking, javi's gun makes an appearance, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i told myself i was going to take my time with this but i've been hyperfixated on this song and music video since it dropped... imagining my favorite pedro boy and... well i cranked this sucker out so fast. oh to break in to javi's apartment and blow him into oblivion 😫 let me know what you think! i might write a part 2 if there's interest for it xoxo mwah enjoy queridas. 🖤

You’ve never seen a man so handsome. So determined. So capable.

So perfect.

You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was the one.

You’d been waiting outside of the embassy in the pouring rain for over an hour trying to catch him while on his break, wanting to get a quote from the new DEA attaché on his plans to tackle the Cali cartel.

That’s why you’re here in Colombia. Fresh out of grad school with a masters in photojournalism. Your advisor had presented to you a great position in South America involving documenting the war on drugs and its subsequent effects. Despite Pablo Escobar’s death, this so called war remained relentless, and with your ability to capture photos that truly are worth a thousand words, your advisor knew you’d be perfect for the job.

So here you are, immersed in a beautiful country, working your dream job. It had its bad days just like anything else but your passion and prowess made those hard days worth it.

When he finally did emerge from the government building, you shivered and it wasn’t because you were soaking wet from the rain. 

Your handbag did little to nothing to shield you from it as you held it over your head and jogged over to him.

He immediately blew you off, quickly eyeing your appearance before giving you a simple ‘no comment’ which would usually piss you off and have you press further–– however, you were left in a trancelike state by merely being in his presence.

He was more handsome than you could have imagined. You didn’t know what he looked like before arriving, solely going off the description given to you by your boss then what little his secretary had told you when you called to ask for a meeting earlier (which you were denied).

Brows cinched together in a perpetual frown, pouty lips turned downward in a scowl with chocolate brown eyes that make you miss the warmth of your hometown. 

He had taken your breath away entirely, leaving you standing there in a puddle of both rain and arousal as he darted off in the opposite direction.

That was all you needed, really, to be thrown into a pit of absolute delusion and wanton want for Javier Peña.

You watch him relentlessly. At first, it began with scouring through the archives, reading any printings that involved him, seeing his photograph on countless articles and video footage of him giving press conferences.

The more you dived in to the professional life of the agent, the more devoted you became.

Then the following started. To and from work. Late nights at the bar. While tracking down leads. You can’t help yourself, you are obsessed. Everything this man does is fascinating, further deluding you into a infatuated trance.

You don’t know where this side of you came from. You’re usually so unproblematic and independent, your sole focus being your career with little to no time to even fathom romance.

There’s just something about him that flipped this twisted switch within you, rendering you a cock-thirsty, lovestruck mess.

One night, you watched him bring another woman home and that’s when you realized how palpable your obsession had gotten. The jealousy that bubbled in your chest became unbearable. So much that it led you to get out of your car, climb the fire escape of his luxurious apartment building and onto his balcony.

You observed from the other side of the glass door, in the shadows, as he took this woman on his couch.

A plethora of toxic emotions swirled within you. Envy and arousal the most intense, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his bare torso against the gentle, warm light of the singular lamp that was on.

A sheen of sweat glistened over his tan skin. He is so chiseled with a softness that makes you want to run your tongue against every dip and ridge, all the way down to the enticing trail of hair that leads right to what you crave the most.

You sighed, fantasizing about being in that lucky bitch’s spot, with his hands running all over you, kneading and squeezing your curves, the scratch of his mustache having your skin curl beneath the coarser touch. You managed to control the whimper that threatened to slip up your throat in the off chance that it got you caught.

It’s not until you felt your pager in your pocket that you returned to reality, the buzz forcefully pulling you from your erotic daydream. With a final glance at their moving bodies, at him, you swiftly descended the fire escape and to the nearest phone booth.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Since that night you’ve been insatiable. You just need one taste, a small micro dose of him to keep your hunger at bay.

It’s not until a few days later that you return to his apartment. He’s away for work in Cali (you followed him to the airport, watching him board the plane behind your thick sunglasses and a newspaper) leaving his place empty with no surveillance. You ascend the fire escape again, the city lights of the capitol twinkling in the distance. 

Slipping your gloves on, you expertly pick the lock of the balcony door before suavely entering the space. You’ve been practicing on your own at home in preparation.

It’s neat and clean. Not much personality to it which is unsurprising considering how stoic this man is. His hardened demeanor amongst the many things about him that drive you crazy. There’s never a break in his expression, always painted with typical tension and weariness.

You wonder if you could be the one who is able to crack him. To get a reaction out of that handsome face.

After surveying the entirety of the open space, you sneak down the hallway and push open the door of his bedroom.

Immediately, his smell engulfs your senses and your eyes flutter close at the scent. It’s comforting yet enticing; nothing different than what other men smell like but there’s something about Javier specifically that you just can’t describe.

It’s so satisfying. A fucking aphrodisiac.

Walking deeper into the room, you diligently rummage through his belongings, beginning in his en suite bathroom.

With every little piece you study, you learn more about the agent. What toothpaste he uses, the brand of razors that he buys, the specific shade of blue of his towels. Little things you wouldn’t be able to catch during your, plainly put, stalking.

Back in the room, you open the drawer that stores his shirts, your fingers running along the front of a brightly colored pink one that’s neatly folded at the top. You imagine yourself walking around in this and nothing else, the softness of the fabric hanging from your curves, unbuttoned enough to expose the swells of your breast and maybe even a nipple slip to tempt him even further.

Would he think you look sexy in his clothes?

You now stand at the foot of his large bed, the window behind it casting the silver of the moonlight against the mattress tantalizingly, as if urging you to go full on goldilocks by climbing in it and pretending it’s a bed you share with him.

You stare and you stare, lower lip pinched between your teeth before you gently crawl onto it, lowering your chest so it brushes against the duvet as your nose trails up up up until it’s at his pillow, inhaling deeply as you get a more potent smell of him. 

A sweet moan pushes through your lips, your clit throbbing in tandem with your heart as you lose yourself entirely, your mind already conjuring an erotic fantasy.

Your lips against his thick neck, licking and biting the salty skin while he fucks you in missionary. The details become so vivid; that familiar furrow of his brows as he concentrates on your soaking cunt swallowing his cock, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he praises you for taking his dick like the good little slut that you are.

You whimper, grinding your hips against the mattress, the friction delicious against your clit, while your nose remains buried in the pillow. Deciding that you need more, you lift your head momentarily to grab one of the other cushions and then slip your jeans off; tossing them on the floor and placing the cushion in between your legs.

Positioning yourself at the perfect angle, you bring the pillow he sleeps on up to your face and begin to grind down on the one in between your legs.

Drifting back to your lewd thoughts, you picture him beneath you while your hips move at a sensual pace. You know you’d take him bare, needing to feel every vein and divot… how thick he is breaking your pussy open while simultaneously molding it to fit perfectly tight around his cock.

His mouth on your bouncing breasts, nipping and sucking on your nipples while his large hand runs down to land a harsh slap against your ass cheek, groping the skin to soothe it before repeating the action again and again and again.

You move faster against the pillow, your now ruined panties only adding to the overwhelming sensation as the wet fabric rubs against your needy pussy. 

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips in a gasp when your face leaves the pillow, your body needing fresh air but you being selfish and wanting to suffocate in his scent. You know your wetness is smearing all over the pillow but you really don’t give a fuck at the moment, too caught up in your own pleasure and delusions to think of how wrong this is.

But it feels so good.

Your free hand goes under your shirt and bra to massage your sensitive tit, stomach tightening as your orgasm begins to creep up on you.

You think of his devilishly curved nose and how fucking magnificent it’d feel nudging against your clit while you ride his face. That position specifically has always made you a little nervous due to the thickness of your thighs and ass, but you just know that he would be able to handle it like the sex god that he is.

His tongue would lap over your slit hungrily, kissing your folds before wrapping his lips around the flesh of your clit and sucking hard. The phantom sensation of it is enough to get you to hump harder against the pillow and bury your face into the one in your hands once more, your cunt clenching around nothing as euphoria washes over you.

The room is filled with your muffled moans and cries of his name as you come undone, hips wildly thrusting against the cushion as your juices absolutely soak through it. It’s an out of body experience, really, as you attempt to return back to earth.

You’ve never came that hard, especially not on your own.

Breathing heavily, you take what feels like an eternity to calm your shaking body down. Once your mind is a little clearer, you wobble off the bed and proceed to wash the pillow you just marked like a possessive cat, lounging around his apartment until you’ve made sure everything is as he left it before swiftly making your exit.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

His return comes in the form of a news broadcast. You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when you hear the anchorwoman report that one of the Cali godfathers, Gilberto Rodríguez, has been arrested thanks to the joint efforts of the DEA and Search Bloc.

The kitchen knife falls from your hands and onto the cutting board as you scurry over to the boxy television set in your living room, fingers twisting the knob to increase the volume as he appears.

You’re kneeled in front of the screen, face damn near pressed up against it as you intently watch him command the room. He stands behind a podium with microphones pointed at him from every direction, cameras shuttering, an array of men on either side of him and a large crowd gathered at the front.

“I promise you… the other three godfathers will fall.”

You nod your head as if he is speaking only to you, “That’s right baby, you tell them. So hot.” 

You stand, attention still fully on the television as that familiar stir of arousal begins to heat up within you.

He’s home and your resolve is wearing thin. Thin enough that you decide to say fuck it.

You need another taste.

Dinner is long forgotten as you go to your room, pulling open the closet and grabbing a solid black box from the top shelf.

You purchased this little number when your fantasies had begun. Wearing it around your apartment while you teased yourself, roleplaying him coming home after a long work trip and using your pussy to help him forget the horrors of his job.

Using a realistic looking dildo, you imagined it to be the man of your dreams while you fucked yourself with it in a myriad of positions.

The outfit is simple. A short, black leather dress with a corset bust and sheer sleeves that cover your shoulders and arms, doing a great job of making you look sexy. The skirt falls at your upper thigh, exposing your nylon clad legs paired with simple black heels. You slip on your mesh gloves, your red acrylics popping against the black, almost see through material.

The ensemble looks divine against your skin but you feel like something is missing. Taking one, long look at your face you realize that you’re not ready to fully reveal yourself to him, so you turn back to your closet and your eyes light up once you see the cat mask you wore to a costume party not that long ago.

You smirk at the idea.

A sexy little cat burglar. Breaking in to take what she wants.

Putting it on, your reflection stares back at you and you feel like a whole different person. The corset cinches your waist just right, your thighs curvy and inviting beneath the stockings, tits pressed together and almost spilling out the top.

The lacey mask covers half your face, leaving your glossy lips exposed with cute kitten ears at the top. 

You’d fuck yourself, honestly. This new wave of confidence does nothing but fuel your determination.

Walking over to the opposite side of your room, you tilt your head up to take in the shrine of photos you’ve made of him.

Most come from you and your camera, all those days you spent watching him and documenting his every move. Others are from newspapers then there’s some messy sketches you did out of boredom.

Your finger comes up to trace his sharp features on one of the pictures, lingering on his nose and your pussy tingles as you breathe out a wistful sigh.

You can’t wait to try him.

Throwing on a black trench coat, you leave your apartment and take the familiar route to his. It’s raining, but not harsh enough to spoil your plans. Just a light drizzle.

When you arrive, your heart sinks at the fact that he isn’t home yet. Of course. He was just on TV! You hadn’t really thought this plan all the way through, absolutely blinded by your desire.

Whatever, you take the time to touch up on your makeup and fix your hair. The night presses on until finally you see his jeep coming down the road and pulling into the garage of the building.

With a final look over in your rearview mirror, you exit the car and cross the street to make your way up the familiar ladder, careful not to slip against the slick surface with the heels you have on.

Thankfully there’s no one out tonight, and if there was you aren’t sure how the hell you’d explain what you’re doing. You don’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

The butterflies in your stomach wildly flutter once you make it to his balcony, rain droplets adorn the glass door and you crouch to keep yourself hidden.

He walks in not long after, looking exhausted as ever as he pulls his tie loose around his neck and tosses his keys into a small bowl at the entryway table. His expensive dress shoes are kicked off, suit jacket slipping from shoulders revealing how broad he is. You bite your lip.

He stalks across the apartment, not even glancing in your direction, unbuttoning part of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves. His figure is a little blurry due to the condensation on the door but you don’t care, you’re under his spell as you watch him pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Wetting your lips, you can almost taste the spicy liquor as he drinks it in one shot before pouring himself another. Except this time it’s on the rocks.

Would the ice make his lips cool? Surely. A shiver dances down your spine at the thought of them pressed against your heated skin. 

The orange street light casts softly into the space, the shadows sharpening his features and making him look more rugged and masculine and just downright fuckable. You want to so badly break through the glass and take a seat on that chiseled jaw, to have him harshly grip your ass as you fuck yourself on his tongue.

He disappears down the hallway and into his office, giving you the opportunity to sneak in like last time. You give yourself one final pep talk before fully committing, slipping off the trench coat and tossing it aside.

After picking the lock, you very diligently and quietly slide the door open and enter, shutting it behind you.

Just like the cat burglar you pretend to be, you suavely follow his trail down the hallway, leaving a wet trail of your own from the rain, stopping at the cracked door of his office.

You see him hunched over his wooden desk, back facing you, deep in thought at whatever documents lay sprawled against the surface.

His back muscles tense with every subtle move he makes, your dark eyes taking him in entirely from his slutty little waist to the curls at the nape of his neck.

You can tell he’s been frustratingly running his fingers through his hair since it’s sticking up in some places making it look so sexily tousled.

You want to tug on it, run your fingertips against his scalp while he devours you whole.

So lost in your observance of him, you don’t catch the moan that escapes you and his head snaps up at the sound. 

Your eyes widen and you take a delicate step back, still watching as he reaches for the gun that’s nestled against his lower back.

Trying not to make too much noise, you make your way further down the hall and into his bedroom, heart in your throat as you climb into his bed, laying on your side with your body weight propped up on one hand as you anticipate his presence.

This is it. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you laid eyes on him.

The first thing you see is the silver tip of his pistol as the door opens further, then he comes fully into view with that goddamn scowl on his face that makes your skin tingle.

His breath hitches once he lays eyes on you, large hands squeezing the weapon as you sexily wave at him.

“Hello agent.”

Your sweet voice fills the space, the muted sound of the weather picking up outside serving as the perfect white noise to set the ambiance for this scene.

“Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you get in here?”

Oh, his voice. So smooth yet raspy like the whiskey and cigarettes he can’t live without.

“An admirer that saw you took down of the godfathers and decided to come thank you in person.”

His gaze narrows, gun lowering slightly as he contemplates whether you’re a threat or not.

You are, but not in the way that he thinks.

“How did you get in?”

“That’s a trick I’m going to have to keep to myself.”

You shift your body, moving to rest on your knees and you watch as his eyes lustfully trace the contours of your figure. You’re absolutely keening beneath the heaviness of his stare, loving the fact that you have his undivided attention.

It doesn’t even worry you that he’s got a fully loaded gun pointed right at your pretty face. If anything, it just turns you on even more.

“What do you want?”

“I already told you. To thank you in person.” Your eyes roll and his jaw tightens.

“Thank me in person?” He echoes your words with a dry chuckle, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Let me show you.” Your tone is hushed and dripping with suggestion, slipping off the bed slowly and sensually.

You watch his adam’s apple bob at your change of position, letting him see you in your full get up, watching intently as his eyes land on a different part of your body with every second that passes.

“Drop the gun, Javier.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I could do right now.”

You cock your head to the side, eyes narrowing behind the mask as you contemplate your next move.

He’s standing on the rug that’s spread out against the wooden floor which gives you an idea.

“Please? I’m not going to hurt you.” You whine with a pout, beginning to lower yourself to the ground as if showing him your unwavering submission.

The seconds that tick by feel like hours as you attentively take each other in. Then you hear it, your ears twitching at the faint sound of the safety switching on and it’s enough to spur you into action.

You don’t know where this newfound strength comes from, probably the adrenaline you feel of simply existing in the same room as him. You yank the rug, causing him to lose his footing as he falls onto his back with a loud thud, the gun slipping from his grasp and sliding across the floor.

He groans out in pain but you don’t care, pulling him closer, then fully on your knees as you begin to crawl over to him.

“I told you to put the gun down.” 

He’s still on his back, making no attempt to move as you draw closer. He does lean up on his forearms, dark eyes fixed on you, watching as you shuffle on your hands and knees until you plant your hands on his shins and work your way up.

You barely graze the hardening bulge in his pants, causing him to shudder, and white heat licks at your core knowing that in this moment; he wants you too.

The two of you don’t break eye contact as you straddle him, gloved hands falling on his pecs.

“I’m not usually like this…” you begin in a gentle murmur, running your open palms anywhere you can, relishing in feeling his taut body beneath yours after fantasizing about it for so long, “Shit, it’s like news to me, but I can’t ignore my heart anymore.”

One of your hands wraps around his tie, tugging on it harshly until you’re nose to nose with the man that’s been living in your head rent free for the past few weeks.

His lust blown brown eyes search yours, as if trying to discern your identity which you assume he’ll never figure out. You’ve only ever had that one interaction and even then he had barely paid you any attention.

You feel his breath fanning across your mouth, so badly do you want to press your lips against his but you suppress the urge.

You continue to play with him, enjoying this sense of power you have with how complaint he’s being.

You expected for him to be fully dominant, which you know he’s capable of being since you watched him fuck the shit out of that one girl. But it seems like this, your taboo act and the suddenness of it, is affecting him in an entirely different way.

You put pressure against your palms, having him lay flat on his back and you hover over him, taking in all the small details of his charming face.

The frown lines, hairs of his mustache, blemishes and faint scars. Every little detail making you fall harder and harder for him. He has no idea just how much he means to you.

“What game are you playing at here, gatita?” He gives in, entranced by this enigma of a woman that’s perched over him. His calloused hands grip at your outer thighs, blunt fingernails almost ripping the fabric of your stockings.

You hum at his touch, loving the sound of the pet name, gently rocking on his lap and clutching his shirt in your fists.

“One where you’re the prize, handsome.”

You lean forward, sticking your tongue out and slowly licking a broad stripe from his chin all the way to the tip of his nose, curling your tongue when you flick at it.

His chest vibrates with a groan and you smirk at the feeling of his cock twitching underneath his pants.

“You looked so good on the news tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

You undo his tie, toying with the notion of wrapping it around his wrists to detain him, but with what you have planned on doing to him tonight, you’d rather keep his hands accessible. 

Maybe next time.

You toss the silky fabric aside to focus on unbuttoning his shirt. He does nothing but remain silent, his chest heaving up and down while he suppresses the primal urge to take over and fuck this sweet little thing that’s dropped herself on his lap.

And you know he’s more than capable of switching the roles. He’s strong and skilled, could easily flip you onto your back and proceed to exert his dominance over you.

But you’re the one with the grand plan here, not him, and he’s indulging in your shared fantasy by letting you do whatever it is that you want, lost in a horny daze of his own.

The silence is comfortable and it further builds the sexual tension. You finish getting his shirt undone, opening it wider to get a better look at his toned body.

“So hot. You drive me crazy, agent.” You’re so wet, the slickness of your arousal seeping through the flimsy material of your thong smears against his fancy dress pants.

“Y tu, kitten, look like something out of a wet fucking dream. I have to be dreaming.”

You giggle, blushing at his words as some coyness slips into your facade.

“You’re not dreaming, papi, I promise you.” 

Leaning down once more, you begin to leave wet kisses against the cut of his jaw, suckling on the warm skin then running your nose along the length of his neck.

You take in a deep breath, smelling his cologne atop of his sweat and natural scent and you feel so high. 

No amount of cocaine comes close to how Javier Peña makes you feel.

You suck a love bite against a protruding vein in his neck, a grunt pushing past his lips at the sensation of your teeth grazing the skin. 

Satisfied with your possessive marking, you lick from his jaw all the way up to his ear, biting down on the lobe.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” You purr seductively, leaning back to look down at his absolutely wrecked face.

His puppy eyes stare up at you like you’re the only woman in the world, a goddess that’s decided to bestow such an erotic experience onto him. He knows you’re about to ruin his body for any other woman that comes after you.

You decide to be a little theatrical, slowly pulling off your gloves to reveal your pretty hands and fresh manicure.

He can’t help but bring his large hand up to grasp your wrist, pulling your hand closer to his face as he studies your nails before gently nipping at your fingers then slipping two digits into his mouth, running his tongue all over them and sucking them softly.

You gasp at the sensation, not breaking eye contact while he smirks at your reaction. Suddenly, lighting strikes and the room is illuminated for a split second in the white light. 

You both look so feral, suspended in this vivacious moment.

Pulling your hand away, you let it drag down his pouty bottom lip, pinching the delicate skin before shuffling back on his lap.

You hover again, this time at eye level with his chest as you place soft kisses against his brown skin, tongue peering out to lick his pecs then down his soft tummy.

His hips buck involuntarily and you pull back, tilting your head to the side as you look down at him.

“Stay still or this little kitten is going to find someone else to play with.”

A litany of curses fall from his lips in both English and Spanish but you pay it no mind, your attention on his belt as you unbuckle it then pop the button of his dress pants.

Leaning down, you bring your face until it’s right at his crotch and you catch the metallic zipper between your teeth.

Slowly pulling it down, your eyes flit up to him and he’s intently watching you, his own tongue hanging from his mouth like a dog in anticipation of what you’re about to do.

You press your nose into the fabric of his now exposed boxers, nuzzling your face against his erection and his breath catches in his throat.

Your wetness managed to penetrate through his pants and onto his boxers, so you kitten lick your arousal from him and he lets out a guttural moan.

Basking in the sounds of his pleasure, you continue until there’s a giant wet spot on the cotton.

Deciding that it’s time you get what you came here for, your fingers hook at the band of his bottoms, dragging them down to his mid thigh and he assists you by lifting his hips.

His cock is so fucking big. Your eyes widen at the sight as it rests against his left thigh.

It’s thick, like you imagined, with ridges and veins that are begging to be traced by the tip of your tongue.

The color of it is a little darker than the rest of his body, the weeping tip plush and leaking with excessive precum from your foreplay. It’s cut with a subtle curve, long enough to where you know if he angles it just right; he’d bruise the fuck out of your cervix.

“Mmm,” you hum, licking your lips like a woman who has been starved for far too long.

“Que pasó, nena? Cat for your tongue?” This asshole, teasing you as if he’s not the one at your mercy.

But is that really the truth? One would observe that you’re the one at his mercy; considering your obsession with the DEA agent.

“It just looks so delicious,” you purr, bringing your hand to hover your face.

Meeting his gaze, you seductively lick your palm, wetting it with your saliva before wrapping it around his throbbing length.

“Mierda,” he hisses, head dropping back against the hardwood floor as you begin to pump him in languid motions, getting a feel for what he likes. Attuned.

His flesh feels warm and smooth beneath your small hand, your thumb swipes over his tip as you collect some of his precum.

You bring it up to your lips, sucking it into your mouth and you whimper at the taste. Salty, heady, intoxicating.

You need more.

Your hand leaves his cock as you position yourself in between his strong thighs. His dick stands erect, waiting for you to lavish it in your attention.

Leaning down, you poke your tongue out to run one long, broad stripe from his balls all the way up to his head.

He shudders, fists clenching at his sides while his slit spurts out more precum.

“I got you all wet, baby.” you gloat with a gentle laugh, repeating the motion a few more times.

Each groan of his and twitch of his body influences you to keep going, placing open mouthed kisses all over his base then up and down his cock. Making out with it.

You let a wad of spit fall over his tip and watch as it drips down obscenely over his length, bringing your hand back to pump him a little faster with a tighter grip. Your saliva drips from in between your knuckles. 

“That’s it, gatita, just like that pretty girl.” He’s getting more vocal now and you’re intoxicated, drunk off his praise.

You slap the fat head of his cock against your pursed lips a few times before letting your tongue lap at the slit then sinfully lick around the tip. 

Your tongue continues its assault on his girth, lapping every inch of it like he’s a refreshing mango popsicle on a hot summer day.

The attention is then shifted on his balls as you continue to jerk him, the tip of your muscle outlining the sensitive skin before you suck one into your mouth softly.

“Puta madre, bebita, esa boquita feels like fucking heaven.”

You whimper, nuzzling your nose against his sack and taking in his musky smell. Your mouth waters, drool leaking from the corners as you reposition yourself back over his hard cock.

You part your lips, taking him slowly, inch by inch as you savor the weight of him inside your hot mouth. Your hand remains at his base while you swallow him whole, tongue lapping around the bits that it can reach.

It’s not until you feel him tickle the back of your throat that you pull back slightly, sucking your cheeks in and beginning to set a slow pace.

Up, down, up, down.

He’s so fucking big, you’re not able to take him fully down your throat… yet. You’re gonna need a moment to break open your mouth enough to fit him.

He continues with his praises. The sweet filth that fills your ears urging you to be a good girl and to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Because it does. All you want to do is lose yourself in him, to become nothing more than just Javier’s plaything.

Tears pool at your tear ducts from the messy head you’re giving but it doesn’t deter you. You just blink them away and take him further down your throat.

You splutter and gag as he presses against your uvula, causing him to inadvertently bring his hand down to the back of your head, fisting your hair.

You wince but the pain feels delicious on your scalp. You pull away and his saliva coated cock falls from your swollen lips with a trail of spit connecting you two.

“I want you to fuck my face, Javier. Can you do that for me?”

You bat your lashes, biting on your lower lip as you look up at him.

Your back is arched sexily, giving him a good view of your ass behind you as you remain on your knees in between his legs.

“Si, gatita, whatever you want.”

He gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you back to his cock.

He slips back into your mouth easily, his hips bucking upward to fully bury himself down your throat.

You breathe through your nose as he begins to set the pace, much harsher and faster than what you’ve been doing on your own.

The filthy sounds of his groans mixed with your gagging and squelching of your mouth fill the room and it’s like music to your ears.

You fucking love this. Love the way he’s fucking your throat and using it to get himself off.

His other hand falls down to tenderly caress your cheek, cupping your jaw and that sets off an explosion of fireworks against your needy pussy, moving your hips against nothing. The simple act is enough to get you closer to your own orgasm.

Your fingernails dig into his meaty thighs when he manages to fully situate himself into your mouth, the tip of your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hairs.

He keeps you there, depriving you of oxygen and your jaw aches with how it’s been widely unhinged for the past however long.

You don’t care about your pain, you only care about tasting his cum when he finally releases inside of you.

“I’m so close baby, god damn it I could die in this pretty little mouth. Such a filthy whore, breaking into my apartment just so you can suck my cock.”

You whimper, the sound vibrating around his shaft and you bring one of your hands down beneath your skirt and panties, rubbing tight circles against your engorged clit.

He goes back to thrusting in and out of your throat while you pleasure yourself; both of you teetering on the precipice of your respective orgasms.

The hold on your hair tightens as his climax begins to peak, and the burn of it is enough to send you over the edge first.

You splutter and groan all over his cock while you cum, your release coating your fingers and dripping down your folds and onto your inner thighs.

“Fuck I’m about to cum. You better swallow every fucking drop gatita. Isn’t that what you came here for? Ah-shit, to milk my cock like the perverted bitch that you are?”

If you hadn’t cum already you would be now with his abrasive words and rougher thrusts of his hips.

“I bet, fuuuck, bet that pussy tastes so fucking sweet and feels as heavenly as this mouth. Ay gatita sucia, you gonna let me destroy your tight little cunt or are you going to leave me with just a taste of your boquita?”

You want to respond, to tell him that you want nothing more than to have his cock split you open, to render you a mess that can’t walk for days after getting fucked hard by him.

His thrusts stagger and he cums with a primitive growl, his hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat.

You moan at the feeling and he holds you flush against his pelvis while he empties his balls into you.

When he’s finally drained, you tentatively let him fall from your mouth with a lewd pop, some of his spend still resting on your tongue.

You climb up his body again, noticing the bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his brow and down his chiseled cheek. His lips are swollen, much like yours, from chewing on it due to the intensity of your ministrations.

His dark eyes are swimming with lust and adoration, shallow breaths exhaling from his nostrils.

You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out so he can see his milky cum against the pink muscle before you retract it and swallow exaggeratedly, smirking as you bring the back of your hand up to wipe the saliva and other fluids that coat the bottom half of your face.

“Thank you for keeping us safe from the narcos, agent.” You whisper, reaching for your gloves to slip them back on.

He watches intently before he raises the hand that had just cupped your cheek affectionately to the edge of your mask, beginning to lift it up to expose your identity.

“Quien eres, gatita?”

You stop him by grasping his wrist harshly, shaking your head.

“Un secreto,” you whisper back, close enough to where your lips are softly brushing against each other.

Moving his hand away from your face, your eyes gaze into his one final time before you lean in to press a sweet kiss against his lips. 

It’s everything and more, the feeling of his mouth slotting against yours in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone.

You pull back before things get heated again, your mission now complete until the next time.

“I’m going to leave now,” you begin in a hushed tone, “and you’re going to stay right here. You’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

Another tilt of your head and you can see the resistance in his stare, how badly he wants to keep you here like a pet. His kitten.

But he nods ever so slightly, his finger twirling a strand of your hair around it before tugging on it softly.

“Will I see you again?”

Yes, but you don’t reveal this to him so easily.

“Only if you do something worth warranting a visit.”

With that, you rise from his lap, your long legs on either side of his waist as you look down upon this man you just wrecked without giving him your name or letting him get a good look at your face.

His eyes trail over you, trying to etch the image of you in his mind for the lonely days that are about to come.

He won’t forget you, that’s for sure. You’re about to infiltrate his mind in the same manner in which he infiltrated yours.

The soft click of your heels can be heard as you depart from his bedroom, leaving him with his soft cock out and pants down his legs.

Before closing the bedroom door behind you, you stop and look at him over your shoulder.

“Goodnight agent.”

The minutes tick by antagonizingly slow before he scrambles to get up, grunting at the subtle pain in his back as he tucks himself back into his pants and picks his gun up to place on the dresser.

He follows your wet trail down the hallway and to the glass door of his balcony that you purposefully left cracked; an answer to his earlier question.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

He smirks when he sees the heart shape you’ve left against the surface. 

Translations: gatita (kitten), sucia (dirty), boquita (little mouth), Que pasó, nena (what's wrong baby), Puta madre (motherfucker).

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife pregnant!reader? Hw was reluctant to go to work because he was worried about his pregnant wife. When he was leaving he kept leaving quick pecks on her lips, but ended up pulling her back for more, which could go on for hours if one of the doesn’t finally pull away. She eventually breaks them apart so he isn't late to work. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :)))

Sure thing here you go 🤗 By the way I think I'm going to write for other teams/drivers as well... for other team principles, I'm not so sure about it! So if you have any requests about other drivers just let me know 🙌🏻 FOR NOW ENJOY THIS.

Toto was getting ready for work, his mind filled with thoughts about his pregnant wife. He knew he had to leave for work soon, but he didn't want to leave her behind. As he was packing his bag, his wife came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Toto turned to face her, a small smile spreading across his lips as he looked into her eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and planted a quick peck on her lips, but he couldn't help but linger for a few moments longer. As Toto pulled away, he saw a contented look on his wife's face. She smiled back at him, their eyes locked in unspoken understanding. He knew he had to leave for work, but he couldn't resist planting another quick kiss on her lips. Again, he planned to pull away quickly, but the feel of her soft, warm lips under his was too intoxicating. He found himself lingering again, his arm wrapping around her waist as their kiss deepened. The kiss grew more passionate, their bodies pressing closer together. Toto's hands roamed over his wife's pregnant belly, cherishing the life growing inside her. He knew he had to break the kiss soon, but he couldn't pull away just yet. When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. "You're going to be late for work," She said while panting heavily after the kiss. "It's ok, I'm the boss, remember." They're both laughing at his words as her hands slowly smooth his collar. "Seriously, go, Toto."

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and finished packing his bag, but not before planting one last kiss on her lips. Toto watched as his wife leaned against the wall, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from their kiss. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he looked at her. He knew he had to leave for work, but he couldn't stop thinking about her as he made his way to the car. As he sat inside the car, his mind kept wandering back to the kiss they had shared. He couldn't believe that even after all these years, kissing her still felt just as amazing as the first time.

Hours later, Toto was still thinking about his wife as he sat at a meeting. His mind kept wandering back to that last kiss, and how her lips had tasted and felt under his. He found it hard to focus on the important business they were discussing, and the reports in front of him seemed to blur together. He knew he had to get through this day and that he would see her again soon, but all he wanted to do was go home and kiss her again.

As the day wore on, Toto grew more and more restless. He found himself sneaking glances at his phone, hoping for a message from his wife. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had left something unfinished between them that morning, and he was desperate to feel her lips against his again. Finally, the day ended and he made his way back home. As he opened the front door, he immediately looked for his wife, eager to pull her into his arms and kiss her. As Toto walked through the door, he saw his wife sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, setting her phone aside. Toto crossed the room quickly, his eyes fixed on her. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her soft body against his. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, and then leaned down and found her lips with his own. As their lips met, Toto felt a wave of desire wash over him. He had missed her all day, and now that he had her in his arms again, he wanted to devour her. He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, eagerly exploring every inch of her. His hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves and pulling her closer to him. As Toto broke the kiss and they pulled apart slightly, his wife looked up at him with a soft smile. "I missed you," she said, her voice filled with tenderness. "And I've been waiting for that kiss all day."

Toto chuckled, his hands still resting on her waist. "Have you, now?" he teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Were you thinking about me all day, Schatz?” "Of course I was," she replied, her eyes locked on his. "How could I not think about you when you left me wanting in the morning?" She pouted playfully, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. Toto chuckled again, feeling his heart swell at the expression on her face. "I'm sorry for leaving you wanting," he said, ducking his head to plant soft kisses along her jawline. "You know I couldn't help myself this morning. You're just so beautiful, especially now that you're pregnant." “Do you still want me now?” She asked quietly almost like a whisper. “I will always want you. Then, now, and forever” he said huskily.

[suoshis]

the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.

THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))

original post here! sfw, 700 word count.

my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>

"huh? sakura?"

he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”

“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.

it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.

“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—

“…you okay? sakura?”

the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.

there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.

“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.

“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”

his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.

the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.

he feels so warm.

“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.

“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.

“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.

[vent-stink]

Lost Sight of My Treasure (1)

Summary: Hongjoong agreed to get married if she promised that he'd never have to choose between her and his career, but he didn't realize that his priorities would have to change when they had a child.

c/w: angst pairings: idol!dad!Hongjoong x mom!reader a/n: I thought of this idea on a whim one day, and finally decided to write it out. w/c: 3.3k

When the children finished singing, you clapped as Haein smiled brightly. You hoped it would stay that way. You hoped she wouldn’t realize that her father hadn’t come tonight to see the performance she had been boasting for so long, eager for her father to see it. He said he would and she trusted him wholeheartedly, so when she looked through the crowd and didn’t see him, she thought that she probably just couldn’t see him from where she was. She had been practicing for a whole month! There was no way he would miss it when he said he wouldn’t, right? He had to be here. He had to have seen her sing her solo, right?

When the performance ended and certificates were being given out she received an outstanding achievement award for being so bold and taking the solo while also executing it well. She was her father’s daughter after all. Being a singer was in her blood, yet the very blood that ran through her veins refused to show up.

Haein smiled brightly at you as you recorded her for Hongjoong to at least see later, and your daughter bounded over to you to proudly show off her award. “Amma, where’s appa?” she whispered into your ear as to not disturb the other awards being announced.

“Something came up for appa, baby, he couldn’t make it, I’m sorry…” Haein’s mouth dropped in disbelief. Her little body turned hot with embarrassment and angry disappointment, lip wobbling and I frowned as I pulled her into my chest. “I know, baby, you were so excited to show him your first solo,” You whispered, kissing the top of her head, “He’ll see it on the video.”

“It’s not the same,” she said, muffled into your shirt, “I want to go home.” “You don’t want to say bye to all your friends before we leave? It’s only a little longer.” You felt her sniffle and release a small sob into you before you picked her up, listening to her wish immediately. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hid her face as her body wracked with sobs. She was only four years old. She didn’t want to be upset, but she couldn’t help it. Her father had never disappointed her so badly before.

You waved goodbye to her teacher who looked at you sympathetically before taking Haein to the car, strapping her in. “Do you want to get ice cream or teokbokki before we go home? You did so well, today, you know. We have to celebrate a little bit.” “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled, “Because appa didn’t see.”

“But I saw it, my love.” “You always see,” she sniffed before her face scrunched up in a cry again, “But appa never sees!” You had to bite your own lip to keep yourself from crying as you watched your precious child sob over your husband’s lie. “Okay, then we’re going to go home and eat chicken nuggets and watch your favorite princess movie, okay? Then when daddy comes home, you can sing your solo again for him, and then I’ll show him the video, and he’ll be so sad that he missed it, so he’ll never miss another one again. Okay? Can we do that?”

She pouted, still sniffling, but nodded. You smiled, kissing her head before closing the car door and getting into the driver’s seat. You drove home with determination to make your daughter’s night better after that colossal disappointment, but found that by the time you got home, she was fast asleep in her car seat. You sighed, looking at her now peaceful form. This was better than seeing her cry, at least. You took her inside, changed her clothes, and put her to bed promptly so that she could get a comfortable night’s rest before going downstairs to wait for Hongjoong.

It was 3am when Hongjoong came home. He saw the lights on downstairs and swallowed nervously. He hated this. He hated feeling scared to come home. He wanted to come home to a loving and comforting family, not this. He didn’t want to come home just to be treated like he wasn’t welcomed. He opened the door, peeking in to assess the severity of the situation, before breathing a sigh of relief when he found you sleeping on the recliner.

Guilt gnawed at his heart as he considered leaving you there and sneaking upstairs to sleep alone so that he wouldn’t have to confront you, but decided against it. Not only would you be doubly mad at him from trying to evade you, but he didn’t want your neck to hurt. He moved closer to you, intending to wake you up, but found that you were already awake, eyes fluttering open to look at him.

The disappointment swirling in your eyes choked him. You two looked at each other silently before you spoke, “Why did you lie to her?”

“I- You wouldn’t stop asking… I just… wanted you to stop, so I said what you wanted to hear.” “You never said you couldn’t make it. You said you didn’t know. I just wanted to tell her the right thing. I wasn’t pressuring you to come.” “Well, it felt like you were.”

The silence was thick. “She was so happy,” you said, “When she was singing, she was singing thinking that you were hearing it. She was so happy that you’d see her very first solo… and then you missed it. It would have been better if you hadn’t gotten her hopes up so high, because when she found out that you weren’t there, she cried so hard that we had to leave immediately.”

Hongjoong looked down at the floor in shame. “Appa never sees,” you repeated her words from earlier, “That’s what she said to me.”

“She’s- she’s just a baby,” Hongjoong sighed, “She’ll get over these things. It’s like how she cried her eyes out when you got her ears pierced. It hurts to see her crying, but she got over it and forgot about it entirely after an hour.”

“That was when she was not even a year old, Hongjoong. She’s four, now,” you said, trying not to snap, “I will not let my daughter settle for anything less than you in a man one day, but if you’re already setting her up for disappointment, then it’s almost like she’s doomed to that!”

“She’s four, y/n!” He said, getting angry, “Don’t you think you’re thinking too far ahead.”

“Every moment that she has the ability to think until she’s at least 16 years old is a moment that will affect her for the rest of her life whether she remembers it or not, especially coming from us,” you finally sneered, not being able to keep the hostility out of your voice, “She had an amazing, amazing night, Hongjoong. She sang so beautifully, so fucking beautifully, and she got an award for volunteering to solo. She got an award and everyone clapped for her. This would have been the best night of her little life so far if you had been there… but because you weren’t there when you said you would be, it became the worst. It went from a happy moment that she’d probably forget to a horrible moment that she’ll probably remember.”

Hongjoong sighed in frustration, “Why are you so mad at me?” You looked up at him sharply because of his unfamiliar tone. “There are worse fathers out there. Some fathers abandon their children entirely and don’t support them at all. Some children don’t even know their fathers! Some fathers barely spend time with their children and their children understand and still become good people! Why- why are we worrying about Haein so much!? You’re still there, so she’s learning from you!”

You looked at him in disbelief, “Do you really want Haein to remember your as just a little better than a deadbeat? Why are you even making that comparison? Do you not want to be in her life?” “Of course I do! Y/n, I still live here, I still see her and tell her I love her when I’m here! I’m here! Why can’t that be enough?!”

“Being a parent is more than just being in the room, Hongjoong,” you scoffed, “You have to raise her. You have to set up her expectations for life. The way your treat her will determine the way she treats others and expects them to treat her!”

“You promised me when we got married that you would never make me choose!” Hongjoong suddenly raised his voice. You looked at him startled, glancing between him and Haein’s bedroom, but not saying anything, “You promised me I wouldn’t have to sacrifice my career, that I was allowed to prioritize it, so why are you punishing me when you promised you wouldn’t?”

“Hongjoong-” “I have work every day, y/n! There’s not a moment when I don’t think of working, and when I’m not working I have to eat and sleep because I have to live, too! This is suffocating me, you’re suffocating me! I was scared to come home because I was worried that you’d get angry at me! Aren’t you ashamed of that?!”

You couldn’t believe that he was turning this around on you. He was scared to come home?? “I have never given you a reason to be scared. If you were scared, Hongjoong, it means you know you fucked up and that I’d rightfully be upset that our daughter cried because of you.”

“Kids cry all the time, y/n,” Hongjoong scoffed, “You’re making a big deal out of this just to hurt me, to take me away from my career!” “Hongjoong, why the fuck would you think that-” “You’ve been looking for an excuse, I already know. This was just the perfect reason for you to finally blow up on me, to guilt-trip me into sacrificing more than I already have. I risked everything to be with you, y/n. This is my dream, and it has always been my dream, why are you making me choose!? Why can’t you just be happy?!”

“It has nothing to do with me, Hongjoong, it’s about Hae-” “I swear, if I hadn’t gotten married, I wouldn’t have had to lose my career!” He almost screamed, and y/n felt her heart break in her chest and fall to her stomach. Suddenly her blood was cold and perhaps she was trembling? She felt like she was, but she didn’t know. You attempted to remain calm, sucking in a breath that almost sounded wet. Your emotions rose to your chest, but you refused to release it. You refused to be the bad guy.

As soon as Hongjoong said it, he realized the magnitude of his words, and immediately went to correct it, but she cut him off. “Y/n-”

“You better lower your voice, right now. My daughter is sleeping.”

Hongjoong fixated on the word choice, sucking in a sharp breath. “My daughter.” Your daughter. Not “our daughter”.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean-” “I promised you when we got married that I’d never make you choose between me and your career, and I never once have. You have always made the decision to come home and treat me for valentines day or my birthday, and I don’t even make you come home on your birthday. I have been happily patient since the day we started dating until now.”

Your voice was cold, and Hongjoong knew he’d fucked up big time. “But you said you wanted this child, Hongjoong. Four years ago when I told you I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to juggle your career and raising a child, you said that you wanted nothing more than to have a family with me. That nothing would make you happier than to raise a child with me, not just have one,” you said, and then scoffed, “Maybe you weren’t thinking when you said that. I don’t think you realize that Haein is not just an extension of me. We are both a part of Haein. Haein is your daughter just as much as she is mine, and she never promised you to be patient. You promised her that the moment you decided that you wanted to be a father. She owes us, she owes you, absolutely nothing.”

Hongjoong was quiet. You were right, of course. He hadn’t thought about that. Of course he loved Haein. She was his daughter, his precious treasure, but you were spot on. Ever since he’d gotten married, he separated his life with you from his work life which he prioritized, and when Haein was born, he just lumped her in with you. But Haein was an entirely knew priority, separate from you, and he was stupid for blaming you for anything.

“I’m sorry that you regret marrying me, but the fact of the matter is that the moment Haein was born, your priority couldn’t be your job anymore. I understand that this is your dream, and I have never once wanted to make you choose, and I’m sad that you feel like you can’t have your dream and your daughter at the same time,” You said, shaking your head.

“No, of course I don’t regret marrying you, don’t say that!” Hongjoong panicked. “I never want you to think that-” “It doesn’t matter if I believe it or not, the fact is that you did,” you said through gritted teeth, “So I am going to make it easier for you, okay?”

“What-?” “I will continue to be patient with you, Hongjoong, but from now on, you cannot lie to her, that’s the first thing.” “Of course, never again, I’m sorry-” “Secondly, I know you have very little time to spend with your family, so when you come back, however unoften it may be, you will spend all your time with her.”

Hongjoong’s eyes softened pathetically as he reached out for his wife, “Y/n… I- I’m sorry. Seriously, I wasn’t trying to punish you, so don’t punish yourself because I’m a jackass-” “It’s more of a punishment for Haein if you spend most of your limited time with just me instead of her. I grew up with a wonderful father, and even if it’s not even half of the relationship I had with him, her relationship with you should be as fulfilling as it possibly can be.”

Hongjoong let out a tear, “Y/n…” “You want to talk about sacrifices? I’ll never make you sacrifice your career,” she said, coming closer to him to hold her hands in his face, “But every time you have the opportunity to come home, you spend every waking and sleeping minute with her. Every function you can feasibly attend, you will attend, and every holiday you come home to spend with me should solely be spent on her. I’m not as important as she is. She’s growing up. These are the years that she will remember, and we owe it to her to make sure that they’re good ones, okay?”

“Y/n… please, I’m sorry. I’ll cut hours from work, I’ll be home more, so please don’t make me do that…”

“I’ll still be taking care of you Hongjoong. You never have to worry about that,” she said, though she wasn’t smiling. The things he had said had already cut her deeply, and it wasn’t going to go away easily. With the conditions she was giving him, he wouldn’t be able to make it up to her easily either.

“But I-, y/n-” “Right now, I want you to go sleep in Haein’s room, okay?” she spoke softly, “If she wakes up, tell her how sorry you are and make sure you tell her you’ll never lie again.”

Hongjoong hugged y/n tightly, tears falling from his eyes. He regretted everything negative he’d said tonight and thought in the last few years. Y/n was working so hard, and he refused to realize it.

Did Hongjoong even know what her dreams had been? Had he ever asked? Remorse welled up inside him, and his heart shattered when she pulled away to give him her own broken smile, “You should wash up and see Haein. Stay with her as long as you can.”

Hongjoong nodded solemnly, going to their bathroom to wash up. He couldn’t say anything else. He was the one who screwed up by thinking he was sacrificing more than he was, and in the end it was his own wife that he would have to sacrifice.

When he was clean, he made his way to his daughter’s bedroom. She slept soundly, but he could see the tear tracks that remained on her cheeks, further breaking his heart. He really was shitty for thinking that this little human sleeping in front of him wasn’t as important as his career. His heart ached, and he longed to hear the solo she had apparently worked so hard to prepare for him to hear. That would have been better than listening to Mingi screech in disappointment every time his voice cracked in the studio.

He lifted the covers, getting into bed with his daughter. He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could without hurting her, making her stirr. “Appa?” she said softly.

“Hi, baby,” he sniffed, trying not to cry, “Did I wake you up?” “Mmm-mmm,” she hummed, snuggling closer into his chest, “I missed you.” Hongjoong had to but his tongue in order not to sob. “I missed you, too, treasure,” he breathed, “I’m sorry I didn’t come today. I wish I could have heard you sing. I bet you sang so beautiful and everyone clapped really loud.”

“They did!” she giggled tiredly, “It’s okay, I can sing for you tomorrow.”

“Promise?” he asked, his lips pressed into her hair, and she nodded, “I’ll sing you the song and then whatever songs you want. I’ve been… practicing… you… know…?” She fell asleep mid sentence and Hongjoong chuckled. He pressed light kisses to her cheek before letting out a breath of relief. It was as if all his worries vanished with her. How could he have ever thought that indulging in this was a sacrifice? His whole world was in his arms at this moment, and he realized that he would throw away everything else just to feel like this forever.

He regretted speaking to his wife the way he had. He hadn’t allowed himself to indulge in his family properly before, so he didn’t realize how sweet it tasted to just hold his daughter close. The only thing that would have made this moment better was if his wife was with him.

Him spending time with Haein didn’t mean that you couldn’t spend that time with them, too, both of you were aware, but understandably, you couldn’t face him right now.

“I swear, if I hadn’t gotten married, I wouldn’t have had to lose my career!”

The words replayed in her head over and over. She sobbed in the shower, and when she went to bed, she covered her mouth as her tears soaked her pillow. So that was how Hongjoong had been feeling. She had never felt worse in her life than in that moment. Perhaps it would have been better to reject his proposal, but you could only scoff to yourself.

He wanted to marry you, he wanted to have a child, and in the end he blamed you for all of it. Maybe he realized that his life with you wasn’t worth his life as an idol, but now that you had Haein, you wouldn’t let him get away easily. You didn’t care if he hurt you, but if he hurt Haein, she’d ruin him.

But for now, he’d ruined her.

[stxrvel]

right here

it was just one of those nights when you had to take care of Satoru since Suguru left… content. au, no sorcerers in this one. mentions of drugs and drug use, angst, curse words, maybe some kind of domestic fluff? implied smut at the end. happy ending? a/n. this is kind of like an au from this fic. not so sad and a little bold. hope you like it either way!! (right here by chase atlantic heavily inspired this)

Satoru was high, again. His dilated pupils were fixed on your body from the moment you entered his field of vision, walking among the sweaty bodies that did nothing but squeeze against each other in that discotheque. His lips had curved into a lewd smile, because you knew he knew you were coming, sooner or later, and his bright eyes roamed your body, even though you were barely wearing a pair of baggy jeans and one of his giant jackets. To beat his stupid ass and take him back home, like always.

“Satoru.” you spoke in reprimand, and his fucking friends around you barely gave you a sideways glance, some blurting out obscene words they thought you couldn't hear and others booing because you were going to take away their source of amusement. “Time to go.”

“Ah, y/n, can't you wait a little longer?” Shoko was at Satoru's right side, holding his arm as if she wasn't ready to let him go.

You only liked Shoko when she was sober, so you pay her minimal attention as you approached your white-haired friend. His smile hadn't disappeared, and it seemed like those moments were the only ones where you could glimpse a bit of real emotion in his eyes.

“Come on.” You grabbed his arm, ignoring the way Shoko wanted to cling to him and how his other friends were booing louder. Satoru's limp body slipped through your fingers, because he was damn heavy, falling against the couch again. “Please.”

His body gave way, moving with a new strength of resolve the moment that word left your mouth. His eyes, as bright as they were dangerous, were fixed on yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Will you shut the fuck up, Choso?” Satoru spat, averting his gaze for a moment to devote a deadly expression to the friend who used to boo you the most whenever you went looking for him. You and Choso used to get along well, but from a while back things had changed too much.

Even six months ago you didn't think you'd ever have to go into a nightclub at two in the fucking morning to look for your friend because he wasn't answering his fucking phone.

You dragged Satoru to your car, and even though he looked so stoned from the way you could barely make out the blue in his irises, he walked like he was sober beside you and buckled up judiciously.

“You were late today.” was the first thing he said as you pulled onto the freeway heading towards your apartment; the apartment you shared with the airhead you had for a friend.

"I was asleep. You were supposed to write me if you were here any longer.” you gave yourself a moment to turn to look at him, his gaze clouded with drugs. “What did you get into?”

“Nothing I haven't tried before, don't worry.”

“Why do you have to do this every time?” you whispered, but his perceptive self caught every word that came out of your mouth and let out a chuckle in response.

“You shouldn't worry so much, y/n.”

“I'll worry as much as I damn well please, you hear?”

Your aggressive tone of voice only caused him to laugh again. He didn't answer back, but with his head resting against the window you knew he'd fall asleep soon.

-

Satoru had become uncontrollable since Suguru left. Six months ago, the love of his life, the person he swore he would spend the rest of his life with, had given him nothing but a poor excuse to end what they had built for four years and kick it all over his face as he turned his back on him and disappeared; totally. The day Suguru walked out that door, neither you nor Satoru ever saw him again.

It was clear why you were coping better than Satoru. Suguru hadn't promised you a lifetime together or given you a promise ring. Satoru had been broken since the day he left and it had been a constant battle trying to keep him afloat. Only that nigh Suguru left, Satoru dared to be vulnerable with you and spent the whole night crying himself to sleep from exhaustion. Afterwards, he reconnected with friends he had abandoned since meeting Suguru. And with old habits, too.

You did what you could, but there was enough you could carry. Still, you didn't have the heart to leave him alone. He was the most important thing in your life and you couldn't let him fade away, even if his friends hated you; even if he hated you himself. Whatever you had to do, you would do it.

“You smell so good.” Satoru spoke in his sleep, the moment you dropped him on your bed, because he had never dared to go back into the room he shared with Suguru. He usually slept in the living room or brought the couch into your room when he felt too lonely. “Have you always smelled like this?”

His head lifted from the pillow, trying to follow the thread of the scent of your perfume wafting from your neck.

“Yes. Now hold still.”

“Is it time to undress already?”

"Yes, Satoru. And you should take a bath. You smell awful."

"What the…? Of course not."

The white-haired man stood up long enough to try to sniff his own shirt, which emitted a smell of alcohol mixed with cigarette and who knows how many other things. His nose wrinkled and for that reason alone he let you unbutton his shirt without a complaint. Usually Satoru would get too commentary when you undressed him to take a shower, but that time he kept quiet, his narrowed eyes following your movements and flinching when your fingers touched his skin.

“Are you going to fix dinner?”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you undid his black pants.

“Are you hungry?”

“I think it would help me regain consciousness.”

"In the fridge are the leftovers from dinner. I can heat them up while you bathe."

Satoru clicked his tongue, moving to sit up when you took him by the shoulders.

“We were supposed to have dinner tonight.”

Ah, in all and in the midst of his lethargic state he remembered.

“Doesn't matter.”

“I'm sorry, y/n.”

"Get up. The tub's ready."

Satoru stood up with a pout, his eyes crystallizing as he moved behind you in the direction of the bathroom. He didn't stray for a moment like he did before.

“Ah,” Satoru almost groaned as he sank fully into the water, letting his eyes close as you wet his hair a little, “this feels like glory.”

“You could feel like this more often if you didn't go out so much.”

Your friend frowned, half-opening his eyes to look at you as his hair got soaked. “Are you implying something specific?”

You didn't respond, letting silence dance between the two of you, until your friend groaned loudly.

“You know I'm slower when I'm drunk.”

“Then you should stop being drunk so often.”

“Not fair…”

“Take a bath,” you left the soap between his hands, “I'll go heat up your food.”

Walking in the direction of the exit, you still wondered why you had let things go this far. Satoru called out to you, his left hand outstretched outside the tub, as if reaching for you, trying to get to you. His bright eyes still lacked that glowing blue, but you could see a little more lucidity in them now.

“Thank you.”

-

You sat across from your friend as he dove into the dinner you had prepared. Satoru loved your food. Back when Suguru still lived here, you would prepare banquets to spend a day or the whole weekend with endless platters of food while having series or movie marathons.

Maybe you wanted to convince yourself that Suguru's departure hadn't affected you as much as it had Satoru. Maybe it had, but if you weren't the rational one in the relationship you were left in with Satoru then probably neither of you would survive.

“This tastes amazing.” Satoru complimented you, scraping the crockery to eat every last chip.

“It was more delicious freshly prepared.”

You let your chin rest on the back of your hand as Satoru looked up heavily, the blue glowing a little brighter after the shower and with some food in his stomach.

He gulped. “I'm sorry-”

“Whatever,” you didn't want to hear it; you'd lost count of the number of times he'd apologized and the number of times he'd promised you that next time it wouldn't be like this, “finish quickly to go to sleep. I can't feel my eyes anymore."

You got up before his whiny voice could reach your ears and finished organizing the kitchen by the time his plate was left in the dishwasher.

“The rest will be organized by tomorrow's sober you.”

Satoru lifted a shoulder. “It's only fair.”

In the room, silence engulfed you once again. You didn't close the door because you knew he planned to sleep there that night, but his body remained standing in front of the couch when you thought he'd already gone to bed. You changed, as usual, as you usually do while he sleeps, in front of the closet.

“Hey, do you think I can sleep with-? Wow.”

You froze. Your breath caught in your throat because you swore he'd gone to bed; it was what he did every time, you didn't even have to ask him to do it. But when you cautiously turned to look over your shoulder, he was standing in front of your bed, with a direct view of your bare back and full coverage of your legs because you were only in your underwear.

“Satoru! Turn around!”

“Ah, yes, sorry, sorry…”

His body turned reluctantly, returning the poorly disguised stare about three times until his back was completely turned to you.

You changed in record time, barely putting on one of the white shirts you had stolen from him months ago and closing the closet. When you turned around to see him, his back was still turned, playfully kicking some lint on the floor, trying to distract himself while you finished changing.

“What were you saying?”

Satoru turned suddenly, his eyes finding you with trained ease, walking in the direction of the nightstand to prepare you, once again, for sleep. His silence intrigued you, and when you turned back to see him after plugging in your phone and setting your alarms, you found him staring at your legs.

“Satoru.”

“Yes?” his large, not very innocent eyes returned to your face with embarrassing speed, and from the hardness in your gaze he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Ah. Mmm. Actually, I wanted to ask you if I could sleep with you tonight, but I don't know if it's the most appropriate thing to do right now…"

You arched an eyebrow at him, massaging your hands with a moisturizer as you settled in between your sheets.

“But you sleep here every night.”

“I mean,” Satoru shifted, pointing to the empty side of your bed and then to himself, “to literally sleep with you.”

“Ah.”

You looked at the empty side and at your friend, taking more time to respond than Satoru had considered. He thought you'd straight up tell him no and even send him to sleep in the living room, but it seemed like you genuinely considered it.

“I wouldn't mind.” you finally replied, and you missed seeing the way his shoulders relaxed as you turned to turn off the room light. “Just try not to snore too much.”

“What?” Satoru stopped halfway into the bed, and you smiled imagining his offended face; if you focused properly you could see it through the darkness. “I don't snore.”

“Uh-huh~”

Satoru finally threw himself on the bed with a grunt and you could only laugh in response.

“Go to sleep already.”

Satoru cowered on his side of the bed, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone for several months now. His tense body stayed in the position he fell into, face up, barely feeling your movements on the mattress as you found your favorite sleeping position. Your bed was small, barely fit two people, and if Satoru got any closer he could feel your breathing against his neck.

“y/n?” Satoru spoke a couple of minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.

“Mmm?” you hummed in response, trying to hold back sleep until you were sure your friend had fallen asleep first. Usually that wasn't a problem, because Satoru pretty much came in asleep from the car ride, but that night he seemed to be full of surprises.

“Do you miss him?”

Your chest ached for the tiniest second, the fond memories of their nights the three of you together in that apartment raiding your mind. Maybe you had mourned Suguru's departure as much as Satoru had when he wasn't seeing you, but that was something you were going to keep to yourself alone. There was no room for forgiveness and that attempted of a man didn't deserve a single tear from both of you.

So you swallowed that pressure like a wet rag and frowned, even if your friend couldn't see you.

“Not as much as I'd like to strangle him.”

“How do you do that? How do you stay strong?”

His voice, so low, soft and vulnerable, you couldn't help but let it pierce through to your heart. You opened your eyes, and for some reason you felt his blue eyes on yours.

“I do it for you.”

You listened to his breathing, loud, choppy, the slight startled intake of breath. You moved your hands over the mattress and didn't have to go too far to find his hands and cradle them.

“You don't have to think about that,” you murmured now that you were closer, feeling his heartbeat through your grip, “you don't have to think about him.”

“I don't know what to think about anymore.” Satoru replied, his voice matching yours, almost as if he was running out of air; like his last prayer for salvation.

And you didn't know, even some time later, what had moved you that night. His closeness, his vulnerability, that you no longer knew what else to do to help him… but you moved closer to him and pressed your lips against his.

Satoru was probably moved by the same thing that moved you, because he didn't hesitate for a second to kiss you back with the same fierceness and passion, letting go of your hands and wrapping his long arms around your waist.

That night something changed between the two of you. You didn't know if you were seeking comfort in each other's arms; trying to fill a void that someone else had implanted in both of you with his departure, when he had taken a part of each of you with him when he left; maybe because you were both the only thing the other had; maybe because you knew Satoru would never do that to you; maybe because he knew you would never do that to him.

Whatever the reason, Satoru never let go of you all night, his lips swallowing every moan of yours and his hands always intertwined with yours.

Whatever the reason, Satoru had found something else, something different, something that didn't even compare to drugs… something he didn't even know he could have.

And he wasn't about to let it go this time.

[pynkfairyheart]

hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE

pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader

warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit

a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.

What goes around comes around

Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.

Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.

“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.” 

Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.

The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain. 

Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.

“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.

You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.

“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.

Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently. 

“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.

The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.

Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip. 

Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.

“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.

Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries. 

The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb. 

Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.

Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend. 

“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed. 

“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.

Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.

“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.

“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.

“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed. 

“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature. 

“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.” 

You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.

The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.

“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.

Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.

“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes. 

Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.

“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears. 

“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.

Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head. 

“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.

Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,

“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”

“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.

Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.

“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.

“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.

“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking. 

“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.

With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.

Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls. 

“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.

Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.

Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.

“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.

“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.

“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.

“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.

Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second. 

“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.

“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.

Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.

“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.

"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.

“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.

Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss. 

“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.

“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.

A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.

“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.

“I know Ony, I forgive you"

Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.

"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyyy

I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests (ignore if not!)

The bat boys finding the reader sitting on the roof after a nightmare….comfort??fluff???

I was half asleep when I write this lol so naturally it’s not going to be a good one.

Jason

‘I had a feeling you’d be up here.’ He said the moment he saw you by yourself on the rooftop, blanket draped over your shoulders, as you looked over the rest of Gotham city.

‘How?’ You asked as you watched him sit himself down next to you.

‘I usually come up here myself when the dreams…became a little too real for my liking.’ Jason tells you and you didn’t need to ask him to elaborate on what he meant by that as the answer was written clear across his face, he too needed a change of scenery and fresh air to clear his mind after waking from a nightmare.

‘Well I’m fine.’ You try telling him, only to hear him scoff.

‘You wouldn’t be out here if you were fine sweetheart, I know that you can barely close your eyes right now without being reminded of why you came up here in the first place.’ He says as he looks at you knowingly. ‘Am I right?’

You sighed defeatedly as you leaned your tired and exhausted self into his side as Jason responded by draping a comforting arm over you as to keep you pressed against him. ‘Yeah, your right, your always right jay birdie but I didn’t know what else to do.’ You admitted, scared to bring yourself to even close your eyes for a single second without being reminded of what you were trying to escape in the first place. It hurt to much to revisit and if you could you would give up sleeping forever, especially if it meant never having to be scared of where your mind might take you ever again.

‘Hey it’s okay,’ Jason shushes you, tightening his hold on you. ‘it’s okay sweetheart, there’s no need to apologies I’m right here okay, nothings going to get you when I’m here with you.’ He then whispered against you as he presses kisses into your head, wishing he could do more to comfort you, but had to settle for what he could do for you in this moment of time. ‘I’m not going anywhere you hear me? I’m staying by your side and we’re going to get through this together because you’ve been strong for too long.’

You melted further into his side as his words soothed your mind and brought about more favourable memories of yourself and Jason, sweet, tender memories of reading together as you cuddled up on the couch, watching rubbish films as you had take out and amongst many more that left you thinking of nothing but him.

Dick

‘Babe? You had me worried when I couldn’t find you in bed, what are you doing out here?’ Dick asks when he lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you on the roof of your shared home, looking out into the city of bright lights.

‘Nightmare.’ Was all you said, too tired to bring yourself to speak more than you’d like as you brought your hands under your armpits as to keep yourself warm, blinking bleary.

‘Oh honey.’ Dick cooed as he brought himself to hug you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. Is there anything I can do to help? Water, a snack from the kitchen? Anything you want I’ll get it for you baby, all you’ve got to do is ask.’ Just when you thought Dick was going to pull away from you, you immediately latched onto him and buried your head into his neck.

‘Stay, please.’ You pleaded with him as you tightened your grip on his waist. ‘I don’t want to be alone right now.’

Dick helps you closer to him as he began to rub your up and down back comfortingly. ‘I’m wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, not now not ever.’ He said softly. ‘I love you too much and I hate seeing you in pain and not being able to do something about it, I’d do anything to stop you from having nightmares, so focus on my voice until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep okay?’ He instructs you as he kept your head cradled against his chest so that all you could hear was his heartbeat.

‘Okay.’ You hummed as you nuzzled closer to dick, allowing yourself to drink him and leech off of his warmth and distinct smell that only further helped you into getting into relaxed state to begin falling asleep against him, fully content in knowing that he wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon.

‘Now how about I tell you about the many times me and Jason got into trouble while we were younger, it all began with a fake moustache.’ Dick then began to tell you a story of how him and Jason would often dare each other to do the most stupidest thing they could think of. It was both stupid as it was hilarious as your nightmare was long forgotten as it was replaced with the stories that Dick filled your head with, leaving you with a content smile upon your face.

Damian

‘It’s not safe to be up here alone.’ You heard Damian’s voice scold you.

‘There’s not that many safe places to go for a breath of fresh air in Gotham, so I wasn’t exactly spoilt for choice.’ You replied as you looked to see him stood behind you almost imposingly.

‘True but you could’ve at least told me that you were experiencing a nightmare.’ Damian said as he stepped next to you, looking down at your unsteady hands before quickly grabbing ahold of it within his own and clumsily intertwining his fingers with your own, comforting someone wasn’t his strong suit but at least he was aware of what simple gestures gave you some peace of mind during times of uncertainty.

‘I hate how easily you can read me sometimes.’ You chuckled humourlessly but found yourself squeezing his hand, finding that your nerves had calmed down a little bit then before. Damian had that effect on you as he often acted as your stability during times of uncertainty and or anxiety, so much that you couldn’t thank him enough for being here with you as often as he had.

‘No you don’t,’ Damian stated self assured, overlooking the city before looking at you with a slightly softer expression, ‘you’re aware that comforting others is not something I’m use to but you still allow me to try and console you during times of uncertainty, and for that I now know that my place is to be forever by your side and easing your fears like a partner should.’ He adds, squeezing your hand softly.

You smiled as you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking at nothing in particular. ‘You don’t have to do much other than give me your company.’ You tell him truthfully, you could stand out for the entity of the night if Damian was going to keep you from feeling less alone with your thoughts.

Damian smiled softly to himself. ‘Is that all? Just my company is enough?’

‘Since you’re asking, do you think that you could just hold me? Just for a little while?’ You asked, looking over at him as he silently thought it over before answering, ‘if that is what will help you ease back into sleeping, then I shall hold you for as long as you require my reassure.’ Before then gently tugging you closer to him by your joined hands, his bodily warmth warming you almost instantly as you cuddled into his side, feeling your head clear of all the fear that clung to you regarding of falling asleep again as Damian held you protectively against his chest.

[d1xonss]

Fuck it, I love you

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+) / Angst

✧ Word Count : 7.8k

AN ~ This request was sent in by @daryladdixon, thank you again for the idea! I’m so sorry it took me so long to write, I’ve been having a lot of things going on in my personal life. But it’s finally finished! I really tried my best with this one and I hope you like how it ended up turning out!

(ps- I really want to make some new friends on here, so please dm me if you want to chat! xoxox)

You had been through a lot together. Ever since Atlanta. It was a long time if you really thought about it; years and years of having all kinds of different shit thrown at you. But surprisingly, the two of you made it side by side, the trauma you both endured only bringing you closer together.

Though now as you stood there, screaming and arguing back and forth with each other as a few of your people were in danger, you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell you got here.

When the Commonwealth appeared seemingly out of nowhere with open arms for new people, you couldn’t help but be weary of it. You never trusted them, not really. It was like a dream, something that was too good to be true as they seemed to offer quite a lot, but that only made you more cautious. And the events that followed only proved how right your instincts truly were. So, when the time came, you quickly jumped back on the opportunity to leave and go back to live in Alexandria, knowing that place would always truly be your home. You didn’t even have to think twice on the decision.

However, when you heard that Daryl would be staying behind, wanting to continuously be a part of Judith and RJ’s lives, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You understood his need to be there for them, you would always understand that. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t miss him greatly when you finally pushed forward to move back with Aaron and Gabriel. 

Although something that you didn’t expect, was Daryl’s slight resentment toward you.

When you told him the news about how you’d be leaving the Commonwealth, he was surprisingly taken aback and a little hurt. He even began to raise his voice at one point, not meaning to yell, but to try and show you how devastated he was that you wouldn’t be around. It wasn’t often that the communities visited each other anymore, not like they used to anyway. And that alone told him that he would hardly ever see you anymore.

He hated it, but his reaction to your leave drove a small wedge between the two of you. He was upset that you were leaving him, and you were upset about how he reacted, knowing that he of all people should have understood your reasoning the most. But that was the last time the two of you had spoken, the last time the two of you had even caught a glimpse of the other. And it truly had taken a toll on the both of you. Though you two were far too stubborn to admit it, the truth was you missed each other greatly. 

Daryl felt almost empty without having you around. He would spend his free time with the kids, see Carol here and there, along with meeting with some of the other acquaintances he had grown closer to. But he dreaded coming home every day, knowing he would be stepping into an empty and oddly quiet house. It just wasn’t the same without you there. He even caught himself a few times glancing over toward the living room, expecting to see you curled up on the couch with your nose in a book. But there was nothing. Hell, even Dog missed you, tugging on Daryl’s heartstrings a bit as he noticed the canine always looking around the space like he was waiting for you to come home.

And back at Alexandria, you were no better than him. Though you had a lot of things to occupy yourself with, you were going through the same heartbreak he was as the two of you hadn’t been apart for this long in years. A part of you assumed that this would be the new normal. That the two of you now had your separate lives and you would just move on from each other, even though it was far from an easy thing to do. You could now grow as individuals and learn to not depend on one another as it seemed neither or you were ready to have the awkward discussion on how things were left. You could move on.

That is until you received quite the urgent message.

You were in the kitchen of your small home when you heard someone just burst through the front door, causing you to freeze at the sudden noise. “(Y/N)?!” you could hear Aaron’s frantic voice call out.

Immediately you sprung forward towards the front entrance of your home, looking at him with concerned eyes, “What? What’s going on?”

“It’s Lydia and Elijah.” he breathed, “Apparently they didn’t make it to Hilltop. It’s been way too long, they should’ve been there by now.”

Your stomach dropped as you processed the news, “How long have they been gone?” 

“They left two days ago.”

That only caused your concern to grow, knowing in the back of your mind that there was no way they could’ve gotten lost or side tracked. Something was wrong, and all you were able to think about was how you would be able to find them. You remembered they took a car, picturing what it looked like in your head as you racked your brain for which route they could’ve taken to the community. The fact was however, you couldn’t track to save your life. Even from the small bits and pieces you had learned in the past, you knew it wouldn’t be enough to find them on your own.

But that’s when it hit you. The small things you had picked up on, you learned from only the best tracker in the world. And in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way to do this without his help.

Soon you found yourself racing towards the Commonwealth without a second thought, telling Aaron to cover for you at the infirmary whilst you were gone. The man asked you multiple times if you were sure, if you really wanted to be a part of this knowing how much they relied on you back at home. But you didn’t have to think twice, you didn’t want Daryl to have to take this responsibility on his own. Though you knew he would do it in a heartbeat for his people, it didn’t matter to you. They were your people too.

You made it into the Commonwealth in record time, the guards on watch allowing you inside the second they recognized who you were, watching your vehicle speed down the road as you left a cloud of dust behind. The area was quite busy today as everyone seemed to be out and about and enjoying the nice weather, feeling a slight shiver run through you as you suddenly remembered why you hated this place. Too many bad memories to even count as living here felt like the longest few weeks of your life.

The car made a screeching sound as you brought it to an abrupt halt, causing quite a few heads to turn upon your graceful entrance as you pulled the keys out of the ignition, stepping out of the car to find him. Though you froze about halfway out of the vehicle as finding him was apparently a lot easier than you thought it would be, seeing him standing off with Carol as the two of you locked eyes immediately. He wanted to say he was happy to see you, happy that you were still alive and healthy, having not seen you in what felt like forever. But the look on your face said it all.

The man didn’t hesitate as he grabbed his crossbow and strapped it across his shoulders, not even bidding Carol a goodbye as he jogged over to you, squeezing past a few people in his way. You instantly tensed a bit, almost as if to prepare yourself for what was to come as you watched him get closer and closer, not even knowing what to say to him. All that time you spent in the car you thought over the different things you wanted to say, the things you wanted him to know. But now as he was coming up to stand in front of you, your mind ran completely blank as you just stood there like an idiot.

He took you in for a moment as he slowed to a stop, trying to read your expression as he could clearly see you wanted to say something. But when all he received was silence, he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, embracing you tightly as he instantly sighed upon feeling your touch again. Your eyes widened at his actions, clearly not expecting that after how things were left between the two of you. But that didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him in return, your eyes falling shut as you buried your head into his chest. It was an old habit you had done many times in the past, but you heard Daryl’s breath hitch as he felt your small but familiar action. One that he had never forgotten.

“You okay?” he asked softly into your hair, squeezing you a bit tighter.

You let out a soft breath as you shook your head, “I need you.” you whispered.

After that, he was all ears.

You filled him in on everything as he was the one to take the wheel, driving just as fast as you once were in an attempt to track down the car Lydia had previously taken out. He silently listened the whole time, nodding to show he was still paying attention as he rubbed a hand over his chin, processing your words. The two of you were very clearly trying not to panic, but when it came to the people you both cared about, it was harder to stay calm than you would think.

But then there was just silence. An awkward silence. Neither of you uttering a word after you told him everything he needed to know. You slightly fidgeted with your hands that sat in your lap as you tried not to look at him, your mind only seeming to focus on how weird things were between the two of you now. That, and you kept thinking back to the very last pleasant conversation you had with him right before you stormed out with a slam of the door. A part of you regretted flipping out on him like that, mostly because you knew the reason why he snapped at you in the first place. It was because he didn’t want you to leave, and all you could do in response to that, was to yell right back out of sadness.

But what you weren’t aware of was that he was thinking the exact same thing. Great minds think alike after all. There was no doubt in his mind that he regretted everything he said to you that day, not knowing that it would tear this big of a hole in your relationship. Though he did have a reason as to why he acted so poorly, and that was simply because the man was incredibly in love with you. And it frustrated him that you couldn’t see that, but it frustrated him even more that you left him like it was nothing.

You then cleared your throat to speak much to his surprise, “So…how’ve you been?”

He briefly glanced over at you, shrugging his shoulders with a huff, “Same old, same old.” he brushed off, a beat of silence passing before he bounced the question right back to you. “How’re you?”

“Good…” you nodded, “I’ve been good.”

His eyes glanced back over at you again, taking in your appearance, “Ya seem happy.”

A small smile made its way onto your lips, “I am happy.” you confirmed.

Though it was partially a lie. Sure, you were happy back at Alexandria, living in the familiar home that you had fallen in love with, spending your time at the infirmary helping people. But there was always something missing, and that something was him. You found you were never fully happy when he wasn’t around, no matter how great your life could’ve gotten. 

“Ya still changin bed pans?” he asked, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

You rolled your eyes with a small scoff, “Yeah, I guess I am. You still babysitting?”

He chuckled softly with a nod, glancing over at you again as if he couldn’t stop looking at your face, “Guess I am…” he confirmed.

You hummed, “How are the little gremlins anyway?”

“They’re doin alright.” he nodded, “Judith’s made a couple new friends since Gracie moved back, and uh…RJ’s startin to wear that old busted hat now…passin the torch I suppose.” he paused for a moment, “...They ask bout ya a lot.” he added quietly.

You smiled a little at that, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he nodded, “It’s hard for them to shut up bout ya. They’re always sayin shit like…bout the movie nights we used to have. Or how uh…you would do Jude’s makeup every once and a while. Believe me, I haven’t been a good replacement.”

A small laugh escaped you once he said that, not even wanting to imagine Daryl’s makeup skills as he didn’t have much of a steady hand as you did. “Didn’t work out too well?”

He shook his head, “Nah. M’ better at paintin her nails then paintin her whole damn face.”

You hummed as your eyes moved to glance at his hands, noticing the black chipped nail polish that still lingered on his fingers, “I can see she talked you into getting yours done.”

The man followed your line of sight, turning a bit red in embarrassment as he grumbled to himself, “Yeah…it’s hard to say no to her sometimes.”

“She just knows you're a big softie…you’d give a lot to make her happy.” you said with a small smirk.

He scoffed as he briefly glanced over at your face, “Whatever.” he mumbled.

You laughed softly to yourself before it went quiet again, only this time it was a lot more comfortable than before. With some of the tension out of the way, you felt like you could finally breathe properly, seeing as he was the exact same way you left him. It was almost as if no time had passed.

Though you couldn’t help the ping of sadness you felt as you thought over what he had told you, the kids missing your presence would never fail to break your heart. His words only brought the memories flooding back, thinking about how you once would nearly spend every waking moment together, like an actual family, and you loved every second of it. You now only wished everything hadn’t gotten so messed up, not knowing if things would be the same since your absence. If you were given the chance to redo that moment in time, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Daryl then glanced back over at you, seeing your mind wandering, his face forming into a bit of sympathy as he could only assume what you were thinking. He was never good with words, but a part of him wanted to reassure you somehow.

“I missed ya.” he mumbled quietly.

Your heart leapt a little in your chest as you heard his quiet words, looking back over at him to find that his gaze was already on you. You smiled sadly, reaching over to give his arm a squeeze. “I missed you too.”

He smiled back at you, fighting back a shiver as you reached out to place a gentle hand on his arm. It was a moment the both of you needed. And perhaps you weren’t the only one who needed the reassurance, seeing as he was visibly relaxing after your reciprocated words.

But it couldn’t last forever, no matter how much you wanted it to. The two of you sitting up a little straighter upon seeing the familiar car veered off to the side of the road, the front tires planted on the grass as if they had somehow crashed, yet there was no damage from what you could see.

Daryl immediately pulled off to the side, the car slowing to a stop before the two of you got out with your weapons in your grasp, approaching the vehicle with caution to peer through the slightly darkened windows. Though upon glancing inside, there was nothing. No bags, no weapons, nothing. Confusion with a mix of dread seemed to pool in your stomach as it was hard to tell how they disappeared, though you prayed you were wrong about what you originally assumed.

“Aye.” Daryl’s voice called out.

You glanced up at him from over the hood of the car, seeing him gesturing down to the ground in front of him for you to come and see. From your perspective, all you saw were a bunch of messed up and sloppy footprints that could’ve been there for days if you had to guess. But Daryl saw something much bigger. Though he didn’t want to scare you, he silently knew that there were a few strangers involved with their sudden disappearance, knowing he had to be careful on your next move.

“Our best bets that way.” he muttered as he nodded toward the treeline, not even waiting for you to respond before he started moving in that direction.

You tried to keep up with his long strides as he moved quickly through the woods, his eyes staying to the ground as he tried to pinpoint every direction they turned. It was honestly amazing to you how he could do this without hesitating or second guessing himself, he just knew where he was going as if he was following some kind of string that led straight to them. But in a way he was as you began to notice a pattern in the leaves and dirt.

Although you couldn’t help but notice that the closer the two of you got, the more rigid and tense he became as he stopped speaking to you entirely. He didn’t make a single sound as he walked, only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were still following right behind him. The feeling in your stomach began to worsen as you quickly picked up on how much his body language seemed to change, as if he were screaming at you without saying a single word. You knew there was something he knew and you didn’t, but you couldn’t bring yourself to understand why he wasn’t telling you. You were in this together after all.

However, your silent thoughts were suddenly brought to a halt as you were too busy looking down at the ground to realize that Daryl had stopped, instantly running into his back with a small oof. But he hardly seemed to notice as his sole focus was on the small cabin in the distance that seemed to be completely abandoned. Though both of you knew better than to believe that.

“You stay right here.” Daryl’s voice commanded softly, removing his crossbow from his shoulders as he loaded a bolt into it.

Your eyes slightly widened at his suggestion, “I’m sorry?” you spoke in disbelief.

“Ya heard me, I said stay here.” he replied a little more harshly, “We dunno what’s waitin for us in there, alright? I’ll get em out.”

“I’m not just going to stand here while you throw yourself into the lion’s den, fuck that.” you replied with a scoff as you pulled out a weapon of your own.

He grumbled in slight annoyance, “Dammit (Y/N), ya ain’t comin with.”

“Like hell I’m not.” you quietly snapped, “We came out here together to find them, and now we’re going in there together to get them out.”

The man then got up into your face, as if trying to intimidate you enough so you’d stay behind like he asked, “M’ not messin around girl, I ain’t takin no for an answer.”

“Yeah, neither am I, jackass. You’re not going in there by yourself, that’s just stupid.”

His face contorted into obvious frustration and anger as he was clearly losing his patience, “Why the hell do ya have to be so goddamn stubborn all the time, huh? Why can’t you just listen for once?”

You huffed to yourself at the irony, “Well, I guess you can say I learned from the best.”

“Shut the hell up.” he snarled.

“I wanna know why,” you retorted, “Why won’t you let me go in there with you and back you up on this? You really think I can’t handle myself?”

He growled, “I never fuckin said that.”

“Then why?” you snapped, equally losing your patience just as much as he was. At this rate, whoever was in that cabin could probably hear the two of you arguing with one another with how loud your voices seemed to rise.

“Because.” he huffed.

“Why?!”

“Because I love ya too damn much ta lose ya in there! I just want ya safe!”

In an instant, the world went silent. The two of you were breathing a bit heavier from all the yelling, looking at each other with equally wide eyes. You were shocked that he said something so vulnerable, while he on the other hand was terrified that now he might’ve ruined what he had with you. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to come to terms with his feelings, but admitting them out loud felt like an entirely different ballpark. The man now just stood frozen, trying to anticipate your reaction as if he was expecting something negative.

But you surprised him.

“And I love you too damn much to let you do this by yourself.” you said, your voice now unexpectedly soft, “We’ve had each other’s backs for years…and this isn’t any different.”

Daryl stared at you with slightly wide eyes after you said that, not only because you refused to listen to him again, but because you said you loved him too. You loved him. He never in his wildest dreams ever thought it would be physically possible for you to love someone like him, but here you were, pouring your heart out just as he was. Neither of you had been very good about expressing how you felt for one another; there was never really a need for words as you both silently already knew. But now as everything was laid out on display, it was a new kind of uncomfortable that you both just wanted to crawl away from.

Though in the midst of all the tension, Daryl finally allowed you to come with him towards the cabin with a nod of his head, both of you preparing yourself for the sight you would see. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as you were expecting.

Both Lydia and Elijah were tied up on opposite ends of the small house, all of their supplies and weapons completely missing as they were left with nothing. Both of you were quick to untie them, taking them by the arms as they began to tell you that they were held at gunpoint by a few bandits, demanding that they give up all their things to them. And to make sure they wouldn’t follow, the bandits had apparently tied and locked them up inside for God only knows how long. You felt awful as you saw the minor injuries on them from the experience, but mostly you were just thankful that they were alive.

You spent the car ride back to Alexandria in the backseat of the vehicle, comforting Lydia as she leaned against you, telling you bit by bit of what she could remember. It was surely traumatizing for the both of them, and you wanted her to know that you were there to listen to whatever she needed to get off her chest. Even Elijah chimed in a one point once he was comfortable enough, needing to talk about the scary experience just as much as she did. But as for you and Daryl, neither of you uttered a word, not forgetting about the small moment you had just seconds before you found them.

The sun was beginning to set by the time the four of you made it back to the community, many people waiting in anticipation at the gates. But they were soon all filled with great relief as soon as they saw the two young adults step out of the car, receiving hugs and reassuring words the moment they realized you had brought them back safely. Though you were quick to usher the two of them back towards the infirmary when you got the chance, wanting to make sure the minor cuts and bruises would heal properly as you offered to clean them up before they went home for some much needed rest.

Occasionally you glanced out the window to see Daryl and Aaron still talking near the front gate, part of you wondering if he would just go home. Leave without uttering a word about the argument that happened between the two of you. Daryl tended to run from these kinds of things, you knew that better than anyone, but you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you wouldn’t be a little heartbroken if he did this time. You didn’t want him to go, not knowing the next time you would even see him. But another part of you didn’t even know what to say if he did decide to see you one last time.

Eventually once you were finished up you cleaned up the station you used, wishing Lydia and Elijah goodnight as you hugged both of them tightly. All was quiet in Alexandria as there were only a few stragglers left outside, the sun now finally nowhere to be found as you slowly made your way home. Though without even realizing, you subtly kept an eye out for Daryl. He could’ve asked to spend the night in one of the spare homes since it had gotten late, assuming he would want to leave in the morning. But then again maybe he just wanted to get out of here, go home to his own bed with Dog who was surely missing him by now. 

But he didn’t even say goodbye.

Your chest felt a bit heavier at the thought, mindlessly walking into your darkened house as your mind continued to spiral at the events of today. Although you stopped completely in your tracks when you noticed the light illuminating your living room, swearing you hadn't forgotten to turn it off just earlier today. Hesitantly, you peered around the corner to see none other than Daryl sitting on the couch, seemingly lost in his own little world as he stared down at his hands. Though he sensed your presence almost immediately, his head snapping up as he quickly stood to his feet, feeling a bit awkward now realizing that he had just come into your house without your permission.

He then cleared his throat, “I uh…I didn’t wanna leave without sayin goodbye.”

You didn’t know why, but something seemed to snap inside you once he said that. Knowing that he was just going to run right back to the Commonwealth without a second thought. “Really? You’re going to rush back there tonight? Just like that?”

He gave you a look, “Don’t…don’t do that.”

You scoffed with a shake of your head, “Don’t do what? I’m just calling it like it is. I don’t see you for months, and this is how you want to leave things between us? With some pathetic goodbye, not knowing the next time we’ll see each other again?”

“Hey, you got no right sayin that shit to me.” he said with a slight raise of his voice, “Yer the one who left, remember? Not me.”

You laughed bitterly, “You can’t blame me for that. I was miserable there, and I know you were too! And yet you’re still living there day after day-”

“M’ stayin there because of those kids!” he cut you off, “You know damn well how important they are to me, so yeah, I’ll be miserable if it means I can still be there for em. I ain’t gonna just leave em there.”

“I’m not asking you to leave them Daryl! I know how important they are to you, you practically raised them. But that doesn’t mean you get to just shut me out of your life completely. You give me this whole sob story in the car about how much they miss me, and you miss me, but if I recall, I haven’t seen you put in an effort to visit me once!”

“Oh you gotta lot of damn nerve sayin that to me.” he spoke with an edge to his tone, both of you getting more worked up with each comment you spat at each other. “You only came back because you needed my help, like m’ yer fuckin errand boy or some shit!”

You let out a sound of disbelief as you point towards him, “Don’t you dare go there! You’re no better than I am, and you know it. You would’ve never stepped foot back here unless there was some kind of emergency.” you spat, “You never made an effort, not even once! And after everything you said to me…”

A certain fire ignited behind his eyes once you said that, “How the hell else you expect me to react when yer tellin me yer leavin, huh?! What am I supposed to do with that?!”

“Be supportive!” you yelled, “Be happy that I’m finally going back to doing what I love! That’s what you do!”

“Why’re we fighting again?!” he suddenly questioned in frustration.

“I don’t know!”

It had been nothing but back and forth between you two since the moment you saw each other, battling with your own overpowering feelings. It was weird to think about how you never used to be like this, you never so much as argued playfully in the past, and yet now here you are at each other's throats. The silence had never been so loud in the small dimly lit house, waiting for someone to make some kind of move.

But then suddenly, Daryl seemed to make up his mind as he stepped forward. He didn’t want things to end with you like this, the last thing he wanted was to see you upset. And the urge to just finally allow his feelings to unleash was getting more and more overwhelming, needing you to know how he really felt.

He approached you in record speed, not even giving you any time to react before he gently cupped your face, capturing your lips with his. Your eyes widened at how fast everything seemed to happen, quickly pushing his shoulders to get him off of you. He instantly backed away when he sensed your discomfort, now looking like a deer in headlights as he came to the realization that he made a huge mistake.

“I…m’ sorry, I didn’t-”

“No,” you cut him off, “I don’t want you to kiss me, just to make all of this magically go away. I want you to kiss me, because…because it actually means something to you.” you breathed.

His eyes softened as it clicked in his mind what you were trying to say. You didn’t push him away because you didn’t want it to happen; you pushed him away because you were scared it was completely meaningless to him. But that wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all.

Daryl slowly stepped closer to you again, hesitating slightly before pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead, “It means everythin…” he whispered against your skin.

That was a fantastic answer.

The moment you heard his confirmation, you leaned up to kiss him passionately, your arms looping around his neck as you pulled him into you. He took a moment to recover from your movements, but soon he found he was kissing you back with just as much eagerness, gripping your hips tightly. His mind went hazy as he was on cloud nine, almost not believing this was really happening. He had pictured this moment in his mind a hundred times before, but truly nothing could have prepared him for the utter bliss he was about to experience.

The two of you quickly grew more desperate for each other as the gentle kiss turned into something much greater, your tongues now fighting for dominance as you let out soft sounds of approval and desperation. Without even thinking, the two of you inched closer toward your bedroom on the main level, already clawing desperately at the fabric of your clothes.

Your knees eventually hit the back of the bed, causing you to stumble a little as you fell back onto the mattress, pulling him on top of you as you didn’t want your lips to part for even a second. Daryl could already feel the fire building in his stomach, the strong urge spreading throughout his body as he began to crave you. His hands moved everywhere he could reach, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every dip and curve was some kind of uncharted territory.

You then felt him pull back slightly to break the heated kiss, needing to taste more of you as he left hot, open mouthed kisses across your jawline, making his way down at an incredibly slow pace. A whimper was pulled from your lips as his teeth grazed your skin, gently nipping at your flesh to leave a trail of love bites to your exposed neck. The stubble on his face that scratched against your skin somehow made it even better, tickling you slightly as it sent a shiver up your spine.

Daryl smirked to himself as he felt your muscles twitch, moving his mouth to drag his tongue along your chest, before he lowered his head even more to slightly lift your shirt, kissing along your stomach. Your hands grasped the hem of your shirt as soon as he pulled it up, easily tugging it up and over your head to toss it carelessly somewhere on the floor. He groaned as his eyes scanned over your new exposed skin, feeling you sit up slightly to unhook the back of your bra, before shrugging it off just as fast.

His lips parted, his eyes hazy and filled with lust as his hands came up to brush across the sides of your breasts, “God, you drive me crazy…” he muttered under his breath.

You couldn’t help but smile up at him, leaning in to kiss him again as his hand moved to gently massage your breasts, squeezing them with the perfect amount of pressure. You gasped softly as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, easily getting a rise out of you as your back slightly arched in response. He could feel your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him, your impatience growing as you could feel your arousal pooling against the fabric of your underwear. Your hands then moved up to blindly undo the buttons on his shirt, your nimble fingers struggling a bit as you tried to keep up with his sloppy kiss.

He then grunted at your attempts, breaking away from you momentarily to rip his shirt off his chest. Quite literally. Your eyes widened as the buttons flew everywhere, the navy blue top now looking more like a piece of a fabric sample than an actual shirt.

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly as your hands reached out to feel his toned chest, “Hm…I wish you had another shirt just so I could watch you do that again.”

He smirked, “Don’t worry...I got plenty of other ways to put on a show for ya.” he spoke before he gave you a wink, his hands reaching down to tug on your jeans.

Your excitement grew as you sat up on your elbows, watching as he swiftly undid the button and the zipper of your pants before pulling them clean off your legs in one swift motion. He seemed to be very efficient, that's for damn sure. Though a wicked grin crossed the man’s face when he saw the small wet patch on your thong, his thumb teasingly running over your clothed core. You sucked in a soft breath as he gently pushed on your clit, your head rolling back and your toes curling at the shockwave sensation.

“This all for me? Hm?” he practically purred, his southern drawl bringing goosebumps to your skin as his thumb continued to tease you.

Your hands gripped the sheets beside you as you nodded your head with a small “mhm”, silently begging him to keep going.

He seemed quite pleased as his lip quirked up in a smile, “Mm that’s my girl.” he muttered softly as he placed a few lingering kisses on your stomach, his words causing you to spiral. You never thought he would say that to you, hell you never even thought you wanted him to say that to you. But now that he had, you never wanted him to stop.

His mouth then hovered over the elastic of your underwear, his teeth moving down to bite at it before he tugged the piece of fabric off of you using only his mouth. Well if you weren’t turned on before, you sure as hell were now.

Daryl then couldn’t wait any longer as the sight of you bare beneath him was beginning to be too much, his movements frantic as his belt jingled when he began to unbuckle it. Your eyes watched his every move as he tugged his pants and boxers off in record speed, kicking them off of his ankles to see he was already throbbing for you. The sight was enough to make you whine quietly, squirming in anticipation as his large frame hovered over you.

But although he was practically drooling to finally please you the way you deserved, he still couldn’t help but tease you a bit. And maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed torturing himself a bit as well. He dragged his tip through your soaking wet folds, the friction being enough for your hips to rock up in a sudden jolt. The sounds coming out of you were utterly sinful, and he loved it. Your hands again gripped the sheets below you, fidgeting relentlessly as he continued to tease your entrance, occasionally circling your clit which caused you to moan.

“Ah!” you cried softly as he barely pushed inside you, before pulling himself out just as quickly, “Please...” you whispered breathlessly.

He groaned lowly as he saw you practically falling apart for him already, leaning down to place a few kisses along your cheek, “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.” 

“You.” you said instantly, “I want you…”

He smirked to himself, “I want you too sweetheart.” he kissed along your neck as he muttered those few words into your skin, “So much…”

The excruciating wait was finally gone in what seemed like a split second, not being able to hold back any longer as Daryl finally pushed himself into you. Your mouth dropped as your head fell back onto the bed, hearing him let out an exaggerated groan as he felt your tight walls already clenching around him.

“God…you feel like heaven sweet girl.” he mumbled as he fought to catch his breath, his mind swirling with ecstasy as he was completely drunk off of you. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, how you felt so perfect as if you were made for him.

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, squeezing your legs around his waist, “Keep going...” you practically begged, physically needing him to move.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He slowly began to pound into you at a steady pace, watching your facial expressions to try and find what felt the best for you. You moaned sensually as his hips began to slap against yours, feeling the length of him moving in and out at a steady pace. Your hands then moved to trace up his bare arms, feeling his muscles flex underneath your featherlight touch as they landed on his shoulders, needing to feel more of him.

His breaths grew heavier as they came out in short pants, gradually speeding up, completely enamored with how your breasts bounced with each thrust he gave. Your hands began gripping his shoulders a bit tighter as your eyes squeezed shut, whimpering as you could already feel your orgasm begin to pool in your belly. How he was able to do that with little to no actions at all, you had no idea. But you didn’t care. It was like all the longing the two of you had felt for each other was just spilling out all at one time as you finally gave into your desires.

“Faster.” you panted, “Please.”

Your words spurred him on as he instantly began to pound harsher into you, the bed frame squeaking against the wall as his movements were quick and sharp. The pornographic sounds easily slipped from your lips as you felt him rock even deeper inside of you, causing your nails to scratch and grip against his skin. He groaned deeply as he felt your hands digging into him, only urging him on more as he rolled his hips whilst thrusting into you, a sharp gasp escaping you as he tickled that sweet spot so perfectly.

He liked that sound. He liked it a lot; rolling his hips against yours again and again in order to pull more of those beautiful sounds out of you.

You cried out blissfully as you felt yourself clench against him, the familiar tingling sensation vibrating through you as your legs squeezed around his waist to keep him locked in place. He felt a bead of sweat pool down his face as he groaned, leaning down to gently nip at your collarbone, hearing your moans of pleasure right next to his ear. He could tell you were getting close, feeling himself following right along with you, but a part of him wanted to be at your mercy. A part of him wanted to see you riding out your high on top of him, needing to snap a mental image of the most perfect thing he could ever lay his eyes on. 

You were taken off guard as he suddenly slowed his movements, flipping you over so you were straddling his hips as he laid flat on his back. Your dazed and confused look made him want to chuckle, but he didn't. Instead, he spoke.

“Use me however you want…” he panted as he continued to gently thrust himself into you, “I’m yours, baby…completely yours.” he said softly, wanting you to be in control of him.

Though you didn't expect the sudden change of events, his words surprised you, and it turned you on. More than you were ever willing to admit.

After the initial shock wore off within merely seconds, you didn’t hesitate as you began to bounce on top of him, the new angle making your legs shake wildly. His big hands held your hips perfectly in pace as he matched your rhythm, silently thankful that you lived alone as the volume in the room was growing louder with each passing second. You watched as he threw his head back with a soft whine, keeping his eyes on you the whole time as you slowly started to find your release.

“That’s it sweetheart…that’s it.” he spoke soothingly as he leaned up to place wet kisses across your stomach, his thumb finding its way to toy with your clit to send you over the edge.

You cried out loudly as that was all you needed to come undone, your muscles twitching as you rode it out as long as you possibly could. Feeling you clench around him mixed with the lustful sounds that came out of you was all Daryl could take before he reached his own climax, swiftly pulling out of you as he groaned lowly against your skin.

You didn’t know how much time passed as the two of you were in a complete state of bliss, trying to come down from the incredible high you just experienced. You felt his hands trace soothing circles against your hips as his face was now buried in your breasts, feeling the heat of his breath dancing against your bare skin. A content sigh left your lips as you found yourself wondering why it had taken you two so long to do this. But then again you assumed it was never the right time, and in your opinion it was worth the wait. You couldn’t think of anything more perfect than this.

Daryl then began to come to his senses as his heart finally slowed down to a steady pace, his lips beginning to trail up towards your collarbone lovingly. Your fingers ran through his messy, tangled hair, growing a bit sad as you looked down at him, reality coming back to remind you that this couldn’t last forever. But a selfish part of you wanted it to.

“Don’t go.” you whispered.

He looked up from what he was doing, seeing the slightly distraught look on your face that instantly made his lips morph into a frown, “What’re you talkin bout?” 

You shook your head, “Stay…stay here with me. Don’t go.”

His eyes softened as he raised his hands to gently cup your face, “Hey, I ain’t goin anywhere sweetheart. M’ stayin right here.”

“But…what about Judith? RJ? I can’t…I don’t want to make you choose.” you said softly, fearing that in the back of your mind, things would just go back to how they were. Regardless of the passion you shared.

He smiled softly, “Baby, you ain’t makin me choose. We’ll figure somethin else out together, alright? Because I do know one thing…I sure as hell don’t want us to be apart like that ever again.”

You slowly nodded your head in agreement, “I don’t want that either…you have no idea how much I missed you. Leaving you was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

“It ain’t gonna happen again. I promise.” he said before leaning in to gently kiss your lips.

You didn’t know how, but his words mixed with the gentle kiss seemed to slowly melt your worries away as you couldn’t think about anything else but him. In the end you knew it would work itself out, feeling more content in this moment with him than you had felt in a very long time. Daryl made a mistake on letting you leave, his own frustration stopping him from preventing you from walking out that door, telling you how much you meant to him. Though he couldn’t change the past, and all those long months you missed out on with each other, he sure as hell could plan for the future.

And he was never planning on letting you go again.

~ Thanks for reading!

[zvdvdlvr]

Would love some more Hotchner blurbs. How about one where you are BAU and have a baby girl (name is up to you) and you bring in the little doll because you (and baby girl) wanted to see daddy? If you are against writing for children, please write Hotch x Reader where she is a civilian and has a stalker problem? Would love to see protective Aaron Hotchner. Thanks

— Popsicles

📎 — synopsis. You, Jack, and Giada go and visit dad at work!

📎 — warnings. Fluff. Tooth rotting fluff. Jack calls reader ‘mommy’. Will def be writing about reader with a stalker problem :)

The summer heat in Virginia was downright unbearable. To you especially, considering your aversion to heat. Thankfully, after being given a rather generous maternity leave, you could enjoy most of the beginning of summer in the air conditioned house.

Of course, Aaron had to go back for work earlier than you. That left you, Jack, and little baby Giada at home most of the time. You loved your babies- blood or not- but still missed the last part of your family: your husband.

So now here you are, Giada in arms as Jack jumps excitedly in the elevator with a cooler in his arms. Giada had been cooing and scratching at everyone and everything for the better part of two hours. You smiled down at the baby, heart swelling with joy as Jack wrapped an arm around your leg and started ushering you forward.

“Aunt Penny!” Jack shouted, dropping the cooler and heading straight towards his favorite technical analyzer. You reached down for the cooler before Derek materialized beside you and picked it up before you could.

“Not letting you lift a finger, y/n,” Derek scolded.

You just chuckled, earning a loud squeal from Giada. “Yeah, baby? Tell ‘im.”

Derek chuckled and wrapped an arm around you before moseying over to where Jack animatedly told Emily, Spencer, and Penelope about the Spider-Man cartoon he’d been watching.

Emily still listened intently as she wrappen an arm around you and let Giada grip her finger tightly. “It’s been rough without you,” she whispered to you. “I think Hotch misses you more than all of the rest of us combined- if that’s even possible.”

You nod, adjusting Giada. The toothy smile she shot up at you and Emily made all the recent sleepless nights worth it. “It’s been hard on all of us- being separated. I just might call Strauss up and tell her Derek needs to take over for awhile again.”

“Do it,” Emily agrees with a chuckle. She gently pries her finger out of Giada’s and nods towards Hotch’s office with a go get your man.

Your surprised that Aaron didn’t emerge like a caveman from his office (mancave) when Jack announced his presence, but at least now you have the opportunity to surprise him. A short come in filters through the door after your gentle knocked. You entered, seeing Aaron’s hunched over body. He wrote fast, you noticed. A smile lit up your face: positioned unprofessionally close to Aaron was a photo of all of you with Giada asleep in your lap- Jack’s head rested on your thigh with his mouth open in a little ‘O’ as he slept. Aaron was sat on the other side of you when he took that picture. He whipped out his cell and angled the phone so that you and the kiddos took up most of the screen.

“Say hi, baby,” you murmured, gently poking your baby girl’s chubby belly. Giada replied with a mix between a raspberry and a laugh.

Aaron’s head shot up. In record time, he crossed the room and enveloped the two of you in his arms and exhaled deeply. “Hi.”

You smiled up at him when he pulled away. “Hi, you,” you mumbled as your free hand came up to run a hand through Aaron’s tousled hair. “Gi and Jay wanted to come say hi… We miss you.”

Aaron’s eyes softened. “I missed you too, sweetheart.” He basked in the feeling of your comfort and Giada’s mindless babbling. “Where is Jack?”

“Handing out popsicles to the team,” you answered. “Here,” you eased Giada out of your arms and into Aaron’s. You watched with soft eyes as Aaron smiled brightly at the little body, gasping when her head fell on his shoulder.

“Clumsy girl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the girl’s temple before adjusting her in his arms and letting you lead the way to the bullpen.

Rossi had joined the crowd of federal agents that now scarfed down popsicles like it was their last meal.

“Look who finally showed up,” Rossi quipped, jabbing you in the arm with a red popsicle. “Took you two lovebirds long enough.”

Jack giggled at your encounter and held up a popsicle. “Here mommy- I saved one for you! Uncle Spence was gonna eat it and it was the last blue one!”

“Thank you so much, kiddo,” you answered, accepting the blue raspberry popsicle. You held it out so Penelope could cut the top off for you. “Where’s J.J.?”

Spencer pointed in the direction of her office, wordlessly crunching the frozen treat. You held open and Jack took it. “Grab a green one so these heathens don’t eat all the good ones,” you told Jack. He grabbed one and giggled, avoiding Emily’s attempt to tickle him.

Jack pulled you forward, singing a random excerpt from a classic rock song you’d heard on the drive to the office. He skipped up and down, something you would have told him not to do if he was munching on a popsicle. You smiled to yourself, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky for your family.

[chaossturns]

Hii!! can you do chris x f!reader where she posts on tiktok to the audio that goes “give bitch sum head or sum” and chris sees it and takes her up on it?? tag me if u do it pls!!

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐔𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌 | 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

synopsis: you filmed a tiktok to the sound “give a bitch sum head or sum” while Chris is filming but he sees it while he’s out, so what will happen when he comes home?

chris sturniolo x poc!reader

warnings: oral (fem!receiving) , use of pet names , swearing , face riding , slight fluff & aftercare , established relationship , and overstimulation

a/n: i loved writing this request so much, also thank you for 100 followers ! 👅

a/n: join the taglist , ts looking empty 🫡

word count: 1.5k

not proofread

You were sitting at Chris’s desk, Tiktok sounds filling the emptiness of his room as you scrolled. Chris was currently out with his brothers filming a video, leaving you to be bored and alone.

While scrolling you stop on a video, the sound intriguing you. It was the beginning of the song “Slob on My Ckat” , the lyrics being “Give a bitch sum head or sum.”

You get up from Chris’s desk, walking into his bathroom and looking into the mirror. You place your phone on the counter, putting all your focus on your hair, fluffing it out a bit. You then pick up your phone, getting a good angle through the mirror.

As you film, you save some as drafts, and have different options to choose from. You finish up, heading to Chris’s bed, sitting up by the headboard.

While sitting there you start to go through the multiple takes, figuring out which one is posting worthy. You find the best video out of the bunch, captioning it, then posting it.

The fans knew you and Chris were together, so you got a lot of recognition on your Tiktok account. Some fans were not really fond of yours and Chris’s relationship, but it didn’t really bother you.

You get up from the bed and go upstairs, wanting a snack and a drink. Upon opening the fridge, your eyes wander throughout the various drink options. Lyrical lemonade decorating the shelves, along with pepsi, root beer, and water.

You grab a watermelon lyrical lemonade, going to the cabinets to get a bag of popcorn, and venture your way back down to Chris’s room.

Before sitting down on his bed, you grab his tv remote off his dresser, thinking about what to watch. You pick out the movie “Get Out” by Jordan Peele. The movie proceeds, but your phone is blowing up with notifications from Tiktok

Opening the app, your notification box is filled with likes and comments. You go and view your Tiktok, reading some of the comments as well.

likes: 106.4k Comments: 10.1k Shares: 120

comments:

@ christophersturniolo

- 👀

@ lucy50

- omg you’re so pretty 😍

@ sturniolofan111

- AHHH CHRIS COMMENTED

@ spam.jess

- lord chris is lucky 😩

You took notice of Chris’s like and comment, not thinking much of it since it was normal for him to do so. Getting more comfortable under his covers, you put your phone down and regain your focus on the movie.

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Me, Matt, and Nick were out filming a video. Nick’s timer had gone off, meaning we had to reset the camera. While doing so, I opened Tiktok, browsing through my following.

I came across my girlfriends video, listening to the audio, and smirking to myself. I liked and commented as usual, looking at how good she looked. An idea came to my head, now wanting to hurry up and get home.

Matt bangs on the window, telling me to look up from my phone and face the camera.

“Chris and Nick look towards me!” Matt yells, his voice slightly muffled since he’s outside. Me and Nick just look at each other, wondering where such anger came from.

Matt then walks to the driver side, getting into the car, and fixing his hair while doing so.

“So where were we?” Nick asks, wanting to get back on track with the video. I left him unanswered, impatiently wanting to go home.

We talked for about 10 more minutes before putting the camera up and making our way towards our apartment. I texted my girlfriend that we were on the way home, placing my phone in my lap, and glancing out the car window.

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐕

You get a notification on your phone, causing you to jump as you were absorbed into the movie. The text was from Chris saying he was on his way home. You grab the remote and pause the movie, getting up and using the bathroom.

Coming out of the bathroom, you collect your trash, and throw it away in the trash can in Chris’s room. You lay back down in the bed, grabbing your phone and scrolling through instagram.

A couple of minutes later you hear the garage door open and close, signifying the triplets were back home. You continue to be on your phone, waiting for Chris to come into his room.

You hear his bedroom door open and shut, footsteps coming closer to the bed. You look up from your phone and smile at Chris, getting out of bed, and giving him a hug.

“I’ve missed you too mama.” Chris says, gripping that back of your thighs, and hoisting them around his waist. You press a kiss to his lips, Chris using his free hand to grasp around your neck.

You pull away, smiling as you climb out of his arms. Turning away from Chris, you plop back onto the bed. But Chris doesn’t come and lay down he just stares at you, his blue eyes becoming intoxicating.

“Chris, why are you looking at me like that?” You question him, he just smirks and comes closer to the bed.

“Y’know I saw your video right?” He asks, you slowly nod, trying to understand the connection between this. He grabs onto your ankles, pulling you even closer to him.

“Chris what are you doing?” you ask, becoming flustered from all of this.

“Hmm, how did the audio go?” he taps his index finger against chin, making it seem like he’s deeply pondering about something. “Give a bitch sum head or sum?” He asks again, causing you to finally understand what’s going on.

Chris is now on his knees at the foot of the bed, stripping you of your jean shorts, leaving you in your pink laced underwear. He opens your thighs, peppering kisses to the left and right, slowly moving closer to the clothed cunt.

You sigh out, enjoying the feeling of his lips dancing across your thighs. You begin squirming as his lips get closer to your core, making Chris grip onto your hips to prevent you from doing so.

Chris plants a hot, wet kiss upon your covered clit. You whimper out, just wanting Chris’s lips on your leaking core.

“Please Chris.” you whine out, looking down at him between your thighs.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks, now sucking on the inside of your thighs, creating hickeys.

“I need your mouth against me please.” you say, sifting your fingers through his brunette locks. Chris then proceeds to peel your underwear off of you, stuffing them into his pocket.

His lips finally attach to you core, you dragging out a loud moan from your throat. Chris’s tongue leaves long licks to your slit, slipping it into your soaked hole from time to time.

“Oh, shit Chris.” you yank his hair that’s tangled in between your fingers , resulting in him groaning out into your pussy. Chris then begins to suck on your clit, the knot in your stomach becoming more apparent.

You rock your hips into Chris’s face, his nose hitting your sensitive bud every time you do so.

“Mmm, Chris i’m close.” you sigh out, Chris now increasing the speed of his tongue.

“Cmon, give it to me mama.” Chris mumbles into you, making a rush of pleasure cascade over your body as you cum.

Chris doesn’t give you time to rest, he gets up from his kneeling position, lays his head by the head board, and pulls you over his mouth.

You feel his mouth enclose around your dripping cunt, your hand automatically gripping the headboard due the vast amount of pleasure. Chris moves his hands around your hips, tightly holding onto them as he moves them against his face.

“Fuck Chris!” you say, a moan flowing from your mouth. You throw your head back, leaving your mouth agape, overwhelmed by all of this.

“Is it too much baby?” he asks, you whine out in response. The sound of Chris slurping up your juices filled your ears, driving you completely overboard.

“C-c-can’t take it anymore Chris.” you say, slightly lifting your hips away from Chris’ lips. He then goes to wrap his arms around your thighs, keeping you trapped above his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, just give me one more please?” he asks, continuing his torturous assault on your pussy. You collect his hair back into your hand, moans and whimpers leaving your lips as your second orgasm begins to take over.

Your breathing becomes heavy, now releasing your cum all over Chris’ face. He cleans you up, not leaving any left over cum.

You fall to the side of Chris, looking into his face and giving him a lazy smile as you see your juices glistening off him in the light. He gets up, grabs a warm towel, and cleans off your thighs.

He then grabs another pair of your underwear and one of his hoodies, and puts them on you. You slide underneath the covers, your body sore. Chris then comes next to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you snuggle into his neck.

for - @ellaynaa 🔥

tags: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @rileysturniolo @itsnotmariahh @summerssover @l0ver-i @thenickgirl

[bonefall]

Thoughts on Wasp? I like the idea of cats joining that turn out that the Clans aren’t great… but also it feels… weird? Like it seems like another “lazy cat bad” on some levels. I don’t mind him not joining the Clans but these “outsider learns they’re not fit for the Clans” things always give me a pause from the Erins. Also interested in how you would handle him!

Moonkitti's video on him is really well worded, if you haven't seen it yet. I do think he's different from the way that other books tend to portray outsiders in that they are saying that he was driven away by the xenophobia of the Clans... but.

They still make him extremely disinterested in Clan life while he's in ThunderClan. I think that was a massive blunder to write, if the thing they're trying to say is "XENOPHOBIA PREVENTS OTHERWISE ENTHUSIASTIC MIGRATION"

It would have hit harder if it was Wafflepaw who tried to run to RiverClan, got assaulted, and then didn't want to be a Clan cat anymore.

Wafflepaw WANTS to be a warrior. Wasp did not. It reads more like Wasp getting hate crime'd was a "last straw" more than THE reason why he won't stay.

That's where you're getting that vibe they're saying "lazy cat bad," imo. It's a bit different from usual, but it still seems like the narrative is saying that Wasp really didn't belong here anyway.

(no, Nightheart's moment where he looks at the camera and says "he could have been fine!" doesn't change that they showed, in their text, with the actions they wrote, that Wasp was not enjoying being part of the Clans anyway. If that was their intended thesis, their writing was sloppy.)

It feels especially weird that Bee didn't go with Frostpaw. Bee was the character with a lot more setup and that strange dream. A lot of people were confusing Bee and Wasp when the book first came out and I don't blame them.

Most importantly, you can't talk about Wasp without also mentioning one of THE worst lines I think has ever been written into a Warrior Cats book. The part where tigerHeartstar says, "Those cats who just committed a hate crime were perfectly good people before the evil dictator took over. If we kill the evil dictator, I'm sure they'll CHANGE BACK"

I'm still REELING. Fuck you MEAAAN "CHANGE BACK????" CHANGE BACK? LIKE BEING A BIGOT IS UNCOMFORTABLE SHOES???

CHANGE BACK... me bringing my evil dollars up to the villain store and exchanging it for racism coins... change back...

So when I get around to it, I'm going to evaluate if Wasp is even actually necessary in the form he's in. BB is already about xenophobia and bigotry and the harm it does. Frostpaw has no shortage of examples to witness what Thistle Law is, and what it does to those excluded from Clan Culture.

When I first made my Family Tree for RiverClan, I actually ended up making Splashstar's MOM, Havenpelt, an ex-rogue. I think seeing him order a hate crime against his own mother would be a LOT more impactful here, actually.

What Frostpaw DOES need is allies and friends. I'm already starting by expanding her little "DND Party," a word I'm using to affectionately refer to some cats who will be following her home from her pilgrimage to the Park. 99% chance that Nightheart is going to become a permanent member of this party, joining RiverClan at the end of ASC. Waffle will be another. She'll probably also pick up a Tribe cat.

Wasp will be on this party, but I won't decide what happens to them until I see what that last book has in store. Who knows, he might come back (though I hope not, run as far away from these ghouls as possible Wasp!!)

[beom-s-author]

🎀txt reactions-when they forget your birthday🎀

warnings: f-word, crying, loud voices,fluff,comforting

×Choi Soobin+

you were so tired with all works. The files you should set down, The essays you should read and write your thoughts and a lot of surveys you should handle with..You were almostly forgetting your birthday because you were busy also no one celebrated it. You were new in this country which you moved for your work and met with your bf Soobin. He was the sweetest. While driving to your house, You were thinking how will he surprise you. You know that he is busy with his own schedules but sometimes he can forget all of them for you and you think It should be one of the day he should celebrate and not forget. But it didn't work. When you went to home, Your house was cold and alone. You gulped and looked around. Your hope is still here and you were thinking that Soobin will come from the corner with birthday cake in his hands and he will smile at you with his biggest one. But he wasn't in the house. You searched all rooms but there is no evidence from him. You sighs and sits on your couch which is stained because of your cat's liquid food. You were looking at your hands and playing with your fingers. You heard a knock on the door and got up immediately. You opened the door and saw Soobin. He seems tired with his big hoodie and loose pants. You smiled at him. "You seem so tired,hun." You hugges his neck and he smiled. "Yes,I am. I came here,maybe we can cuddle or relax. I just want to be with you." Soobin stroked your hair and hugged you back. You sighed. He seems like forget your birthday. You and him sat on your couch and he holds your hands. You were looking at him with doe eyes and hoping that he will remember it.He looks at you back. "You seem like you want something, do you need anything?" He asked. You look at him and ask. "Did you forget?" He seems kinda curious about what did he forget. "What did I forget?" He asked. He started to think about the saten and he looks at you back. "Your birthday,right?" He asked. You nodded softly and crossed your arms and looked at him. He seems kinda sad to forget it. He looks at you and replies. "Sorry,sorry. Will you forgive me? We can plan the rest of the night. I will go and get some snacks and I will make us a blanket couch. Wait here!" He replied while getting up to grab his wallet and coat. You laughed at him and holded his hands. "It is fine. No one celebrated it anyway so Why don't we just lay down?" You asked. He sighs and nods. He holds your hands and pulls you in a hug. "I couldn't forget it..I was just too busy, please forgive me?" He replied. You nodded and kissed his cheek. He blushes slightly and holds you tightly.

×Choi Yeonjun+

You were out with your friends for celebrate your birthday. Everyone was so curious about your mysterious bf. You can't tell them that he is Yeonjun which is a TXT member and someone who doesn't have individual lifestyle. You just hide it from them. They were asking you about his surprise. You blushed slightly and couldn't say anything. He did nothing..Really nothing. Your day started really normal. He texted you as good morning and you called each other just for fun. You waited him to just happy birthday and nothing else. But he didn't. You waited his text in his work time but he didn't. You waited again and again, until you wore your clothes to go with your friends. They were telling and asking you about him. You were just telling them he is busy. You spend your night with them. Laughing at them wtih their jokes. You went to home back. Yeonjun was sitting in their shared flat. He waved at you. "Welcome honey. How was your day?" He asked to you. You sighs. "Fine,I guess." Yeonjun find out that you are sad. "What's wrong bub?" As he asked, you came near of him. "I know, you are busy but..Did you really forget my birthday?" As you asked, his eyes got widen. He gulped. "So so so so sorry..I knew it but It just went away from my mind..Sorry." he pecks your cheeks and kisses you deeply. You forgot the topic already :)

×Choi Beomgyu×

It was night. You were staying in the hospital for the night shift. You were tired as hell because the patients and their families weird needs. You were running around the floors and grabbing necessary things for the doctors. You were running blood tests and injections. You were trying to eat something without making anyone call or disturb you in the injection room until a little boy knocked your door. His parents came near of you that he has an injection. You sighs and puts your sandwich down. As you injected, he started crying. You picked him up softly. Your forgot your anger suddenly and the little boy cradled to your lap. His parents take him and they go..You started reminding him all night and went home. It was the morning when you wake up with the door sound. As you got up and reached the door, It was Beomgyu with boxes. You remind that it is your birthday and you smiled. You thought he buy you a present. As he saw you, He hugged you tightly. You kissed his cheeks and hugged back. "What is it?" You asked to him. He opens the box and it was trainers for himself. "Yeonjun hyung bought me these. Aren't they cute?" As he asked, you nodded. You sighed and sat back on the chair. You yawned softly. Your cat was purring around the room. Beomgyu pets it and he looked at you. He suddenly looked at the calendar and saw the pinning. His eyes got widen and he turned you. "I am so, freaking sorry honey. How dare I to forget it..I am a mess..Let's have a quick breakfast and I will take you to the restuorant in the night. We will visit the mall too. I will buy supplements you want for your hair too but just forgive your babe." He pouts. You chuckled and hugged him. How can you be angry towards him?

×Kang Taehyun×

It was the weekend which is going to be spented with Taehyun at the house. You planned everything, You washed your hair, wore makeup and chose a dress for the night even. But it ended up in a bad way. You and him were in the house. Taehyun was stressed about the works and he was trying to be calm. You were waiting for him to be calmer. He takes a deep breath and hugs you. You waited him to tell you something at least a happy birthday sentences. He didn't. You waited him all day and you just slept on the couch, watched an animation movie which ended up in a fooly way. You sighed when he crossed the line. He left you in your dorm , alone in your birthday. He just told you that he needs to be alone. You sighed and nodded. After an hour later, he ended up in your dorm again. He has a cake and a gift in his hands. He smiled at you and lifted you in his arms. " sorry about that. It just slipped from my mind but now we have enought time to celebrate." He kissed you deeply and made you forget about his angey side. You spent your night with him cuddling, whispering sweet songs and drinking Orange juice from the glasses which is has some doodles on it. He hugged you tightly and kissed you again in your livingroom while eating strawberries and holding his gift in your arms. A cat :)

×Kai Kamal Huening×

It was your first night in txt's dorm. The other guys are aware of your birthday and they were waiting for Hueningkai's surprise for you. They were expecting him to turn off the lights, brang a cake which is in penguen shape and a plushie as a gift for your collection. They expected him to clinged on you all night and pecked your cheeks. Singing you a birthday song with chaotic effects. But this isn't happening..You came their dorm with loose pants and a shirt (probably it is Hueningkai's shirt). You sat on the couch with Huening and started playing with Ps5. He was using all his efforts to beat you but ended uo with a lose. The all members are laughing at him. He gets up and goes to the kitchen. The all guys followed him and you were alone in the livingroom. They asked him where is the cake. Hueningkai looks at them. "A cake? For what?" They got surprised that he forgot your birthday. As he recognized, he started panicking. He got his coat and run to the outside to find a market which is selling a cake. You got confused while other members are trying to find candles and balloons. You realized that it is your forgetten birthday. You sighed and got up. The all lights turned off suddenly and the cake came to near of you. Hueningkai was smiling to you so you are. You hugged to him and he kissed you. The guys watched you behind and they were scared how will you guys be clingy rest of the night. Whatever, they were right.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Prompt: Buck and Tommy asking Maddie to be their surrogate.

I LOVED writing this one so much. I may actually add it to Ao3 as a oneshot.

I genuinely made myself cry at the end!

I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

It's funny how life works. You think you have a handle on things; that you know where things are headed, and then God, or the universe or something throws you a curveball. A big, giant, cruise ship shaped curveball, with enough power to turn your life completely upside down and give you exactly what you needed despite you having no idea you needed it.

Buck thought he would spend his whole life on the hamster wheel. The endless song and dance of dating, thinking he'd found someone he could be happy with, then they leave. And he loses enough couch.

Tommy had spent a lifetime hiding. Years of repressing who he was to protect himself. And when he finally came into his own and accepted who he was, it was too late. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he would be alone.

And then the captain of the 118 needs help and 2 people who - somehow despite having the job, the city they live in and people they know in common - had never actually met, flew into a hurricane together and everything changed.

Six months later they're sharing keys to eachothers homes.

One year and Buck is moving into Tommy's house.

And, 18 months in, when Tommy finally comes home from a month in the hospital - including 6 days in a coma where Buck thought he might actually lose the love of his life - after a helicopter crash, Buck barely makes it 5 minutes before proposing.

Two years and they're standing on Tommy's deck exchanging rings in front of everyone they love. They saw no point in waiting - they knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.

Three years in and they want to take the next big step. This one, however, was the biggest. The most terrifying: a family.

They'd spoken to a couple of surrogacy agencies but something was missing. Somehow they made it all seem so clinical. A business transaction. On top of that, in their research they had come across some horror stories of surrogate parents wanting to keep the baby despite it not being genetically theirs.

They talked and talked and talked about what options they had. And then Buck had remember something Connor had said about the reason they chose him as a sperm doner - they wanted someone they knew.

The answer was quite simple really. It was asking the question that was going to be difficult.

Three years and four months in they're sat in Maddie and Chimneys living room, nerves vibrating through they're entire bodies waiting for Maddie to say something.

"What?"

"We want to know if you would consider being a surrogate for us." Buck repeated.

"I.. Buck... I.. that's..." Maddie couldn't quite process what was being asked.

"Look, you know that we've been talking to agencies and trying to find the right one and sure they seem all above board and I'm sure that we could eventually find someone to help us build our family. But then it hit me - there's nobody on earth I.. we would trust to grow and nurture our baby more than you. Maddie you're a wonderful mother and I know that if you did agree to this that he or she would be loved and cared for and protected so much while their growing." He stopped to take a big breath. "But, we know its a huge ask, and you have as much time as you need to think about-"

"Yes." Maddie interrupted.

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

Buck, Tommy and Chimney all sat forward to look at her.

"Evan, you are the most amazing little brother anybody could ever have. And you've been through so much in your life; so much pain and trauma and, all I ever wanted for you was to be happy. And then I found out you and my stupid husband were going to fly into a hurricane and I was so scared - and mad-" She added scowling at Chimney "-but you came back and not alone." She looked at Tommy fondly. "You found someone who makes you truly happy, and I have never been more proud or happy for you." She wiped a tear from her eye.

"So, if I can do this one thing for you, to make you even happier, then of course I will do it."

Buck wiped his own tears away that had started falling somewhere around the helicopter part.

"Really?" Buck said, not quite believing it. His chin was shaking and more tears threatened.

"Are you sure?" Tommy added. Maddie leant forward reaching out for each of their hands.

"I love you both. I'm sure."

Buck practically through himself at her, enveloping her into a hug.

"Thank you Maddie. For everything. My whole life."

"Hey I wanna get in on this." Tommy interrupted, gently peeling Buck from his sister so he could hug her.

"I don't know what else to say other than thank you. So so much."

Four years and 2 months in and they get the phone call. The bag has been packed by the door for weeks, the nursery decorated for a month and 2 men, wildly in love with other, who couldn't imagine life without the others existence, were on the way to meet they're baby.

***

They chose not to tell anybody that Maddie was in labour. They knew they would get nothing but an outpouring of love, but they wanted to spend a little while - even if it was only a few hours, thanks to Howard i cant keep a damn secret Han - after the baby was born to enjoy the moment as a family. However, there was one person Buck did call.

Bobby arrived at the hospital and sat in the labor and delivery waiting area. After a few minutes, Buck turns a corner; a tiny bundle in his arms wrapped in a pale yellow blanket. Bobby immediately walked over with a smile.

"Hey cap. I wanted to introduce you to someone.. meet our daughter - Brook Maddie Kinard."

Bobby stared at Buck for a moment, not quite fully comprehending what he had heard.

"Brook that.. that was my daughters name.."

"I know." Buck smiled softly. "We wanted to name her after you, and Bobby is a gender neutral name, but having two of you might get confusing, so we chose Brook instead. Is.. is that okay?"

Bobby's eyes filled with tears as he swallowed back the emotion.

"Yeah, kid. Yeah it's okay."

[artficlly]

smog & spirits: spirit-raiser

Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and you are the witch he has chosen to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, witchcraft, possession, mediums, if you squint theres some plot, smoking, mention of death/violence/torture, mention of police brutality, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8k

A/N: hey. don't ask. this idea came to me a few days ago and i wrote it all out in like two sessions at 2am. i want to write more for this, i have so many ideas for some more one-shot style interactions. this just got so long so quickly so i had to cut some stuff. sorry for any typos - not proof read and edited while half asleep lol.

main masterlist

You did not remember leaving your door unlocked. 

The fog that settled over the smokey, portside district of Sootstone was suffocating. Despite it being only midday, the entire neighbourhood was cast into a muggy gloom. The sun could not break through the thick smog that comfortably nestled itself along the windy streets of The Warrens. The stench of smoke and fish hung heavy in the air, with sweaty dockworkers and dirty children darting between alleys. In your short journey to and from the small Sunday market, you had nearly been bowled over thrice by oblivious residents. 

The Warrens, or Sootstone Port, as it was formally known, was not a pleasant place. Home to the working class and the rotted underbelly of the city of Blackstone. The high society chatters liked to forget such a place existed, as it was simply not a charming place to think about. Most worked the ports, ferrying in the sea trade. Others worked in the Smokestack district, manufacturing metal in factories that pumped ash and soot into the air. There were also the select few who turned to other trades, such as pubs, hotels, brothels, or even those who were forced into a life of joblessness on the streets. 

The Warrens weren’t so imaginatively named. It was a clever joke among high-society gossipers that the poor fucked like rabbits and lived in their elaborate winding burrows, from which they rarely emerged for air. The people of Sootstone had accepted the insult, finding the whole metaphor rather hilarious. That was because the Warreners could take a joke, unlike the condescending crowd of high society. It could also be argued that the residents of The Warrens could not come up with a better metaphor, as most were not educated in any sense. 

Perhaps the mixture of smog and that lack of an education had finally made it to your head. You were left standing, perplexed, as your front door swung open without so much of a nudge. The lock was normally a sticky one, leaving you to jiggle the knob and slam your shoulder against the frame until it came unstuck. Never in your two years of living in the tiny flat had you ever witnessed such a sight. 

You would’ve thought it a miracle if it weren’t for the implications. 

It was true that The Warrens were notorious for crimes. Theft, assault, and murder. Even if coppers paraded the streets, they weren’t truly there to stop criminals. No, they were more interested in beating any poor innocents that got in their way. It was better to find protection from vigilante gangs who roamed Sootstone’s streets, scrapping like stray dogs over territories. As much as those uninvolved in such business were afraid of them, they also respected them. Their deeds weren’t always motivated by blood and destruction; the gangs stood to protect their communities as no one else would. 

Even if you and your surrounding neighbours were under the protection of Barnes’ Smog Boys, it was definitely still alarming to see a group of them gathered in your small kitchen. 

“Lookie who's home.” One of the men cooed at the sight of you. He stood closest to the door, one hand tucked in his jacket pocket while the other fiddled with a toothpick that hung from his lips. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a flatcap. Steve Rogers. The Smog Boys right hand man. Next to him was Sam Wilson, his stocky form leaning against your rickety cupboards. His gaze was fixed on a silver pocket watch he had tightly secured in his left palm, a short chain draping across his vest. He glanced up at Steve’s words, a wicked smirk crossing his lips at the sight of you. 

“Sunday market?” Sam queried, and you drew your woven basket closer. There was an unsettling sneer in his voice. 

The Smog Boys were one of seven gangs that roamed the underbelly of Blackstone. Their territories lay in the fog of Sootstone Port and the smokey streets of the Smokestack district and The Warrens. You could commonly see them stalking the streets, dressed in all black with their flatcaps and slicked back hair. They moved through the smog like ghosts, navigating the twisting streets with an unnatural ease. Some called them ghouls; others called them saviours from the fog. 

The final man, the worst of them all, was Bucky Barnes. He sat across from you, half obscured by your small dining table. He had laid a box of cigarettes and matches on the marked wood. One was smoking between his lips, his head angled down and cocked to one side, as he assessed you with a look of boredom. There was a terrifying edge of calculation in his gaze as he evaluated you. He was just as large as the other two men, with muscles poorly hidden beneath his black, tailored suit. His hair, similarly to Steve's, was slicked back, and the sides buzzed. A 5’oclock shadow ghosted his jawline, but overall, his appearance was unsettlingly neat. 

Not a speck of ash or soot. As if he had just appeared within your flat, blinking into existence rather than having walked The Warrens like any other mere mortal. 

You had never seen the man in person. No. If the Smog Boys were ghosts, Bucky certainly lived up to the name. He was an enigma, a haunting story whispered between children. He had clawed his way up to a position of power from the gutters of The Warrens, bloodshed and all. He was a notorious skirt-chaser, his handsome appearance and strong build drawing in women from all classes. Looking at him now, despite the terror congealing in your blood, you could understand the appeal. 

“Why’re you here?” You ask hesitantly. Unlike the gangsters before you, you were not pristine by any means. Falling ash had coated your shoulders, staining the tartan fabric of the mantle draped over your shoulders. Your hair was swept up under a head scarf, which was also covered in a layer of soot and dust from the smokestacks. Even your worn leather boots were not safe; mud and filth caked onto the heels and sides. The streets of The Warren had never known any type of cleanliness. 

“Come to introduce ourselves. Don’t think we’ve ever met before, ‘least I think I would’ave remembered a pretty face like yours.” Steve speaks up, a gleam in his eye. His tone is playful yet somehow cruel. The chuckle he and Sam share rattles you. The two of them were also said to try their luck with the women who crowded around, searching for the thrill of a gangster lover.

“You might’ave mistaken me for someone else… I’ve lived here two years now.” You speak with a continued caution. With precise movements, as to not brush either of the hulking men crowding the kitchen entrance, you place your basket on a nearby surface. Even the cloth that you have thrown over the items is coated in a layer of ash. 

“We know.” Sam says, twisting his body. He lifts up the cloth, inspecting the food beneath. You know it is nothing exciting—some bread, fish, and vegetables. As well as a handful of sweets you gave to the children of your neighbour. You keep your mouth shut as Sam dips into the white and red striped paper bag and pops one of the sweets into his mouth with a satisfied hum. 

Steve pushes himself off the wall, his jacket brushing against you. He was far taller than you, tall enough that he had to crane his neck down in order to whisper in your ear. “A lil’ birdy told us you’re a spirit-raiser.” 

“I—No.” You stumble over your words, eyes darting between the three men. Bucky is still silent, still like a cat hunting a mouse. The gaze he assessed you with was one of a predator, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He doesn’t crack a smile as the two men beside you laugh between themselves. 

To fend off some anxious energy, you make quick work of unknotting your headscarf. Ash and dust flutter to the ground as you shake out the fabric, a frown etched across your features. You could not help but let your mind wonder to the stories you had heard growing up. You were a lifelong resident of The Warrens, only moving to live on your own after sickness claimed your mother. You father had passed long before that, lost to drink. 

“What do you call yourself then? Hm?” Steve asks, breath hot against your cheek. You flinch as he pulls a fleck of ash from your hair. In the stories, they would speak of men with their tongues cut out. Bodies that were filled with bricks, then stitched back up and sunk to the bottom of the Sootstone Port. Men were found hanged from street lights, severely beaten, with sections of skin along their thighs and chest peeled off with a blade. And those were only the bodies coppers found. 

“I prefer witch.” You correct, brows furrowing. Your head turns to look at the gangster, wary of how close his fingers lingered. Teeth bared in a grin, he blows a soft breath across your hair, the last of the ash unsettled as it floats away. You can smell tobacco on his breath—a familiar scent to you.

“I need a favour.” Bucky finally speaks up, his voice low. Your gaze snaps to meet his. 

You blink. “A favour?”

You jump as Bucky finally moves, his foot jerking as he kicks the seat opposite him. The chair scrapes across the hardwood floors, stopping centimetres before your boots. 

“Sit.” He commands. 

Sam’s hand finds the back of your neck, a soft push guiding you in the direction of the free space. You obey, your knee bouncing as you take a seat. You sit near the edge of the chair, leaving some distance between yourself and the table. As if sensing your desire to bolt, Steve sweeps up behind you, pushing the chair in until you are fully tucked in. Then, with mocking laughter, Sam and Steve take a seat on either side of you. 

“No one told me there was any issue about magic—” You begin. Steve snickers beside you, returning to fiddling with the toothpick still poking from his mouth. 

“A favour.” Bucky repeats, exhaling smoke from his nose. Sam leans back in his seat, legs spread so widely that his knee touches yours. You shrink back as far as possible. “I’m no copper. I don’t care what you practitioners get up to.”

You find yourself blinking in surprise once more. Magic was a subject that divided many, mostly due to it’s misunderstood nature. High society treated magic as another lavish hobby or skill, with some even going to private schools to turn their gifts into professions with the right licences. Of course, the people of the lower-class were banned from performing such tricks unless they were in possession of the right permits. Due to the nature of the slums being, well, impoverished, unlicensed magic ran rampant through the streets. It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that an entire blackmarket of forbidden arts ran in the backalleys and warehouses of The Warren. Places where those needing particular services could find them for a much more convenient price than in the higherclass areas of Blackstone. 

You had kept your services rather secretive, never using your real identity with clients. It was a precaution to not have coppers knocking down your door in the middle of the night. It seemed, despite your best efforts, that nothing flew past Bucky Barnes. But then again, nothing seemed to fly past the gangster. He knew of every black market and every whisper of illegal activity in the slums. It would be foolish to believe he was unaware of you; however, why did he specifically sort you out? Now that was a mystery. 

“I don’t understand—” You choke out, head whipping back and forth as you look between the men. 

Bucky sighs loudly in annoyance, loud enough that you flinch back. He puts out the remains of his cigarette on your dining table, the smouldering dip leaving a black, circular mark on the wood. He digs into one of the pockets of his vest, revealing a large pendant necklace. The chain is silver, with an oval shaped jewel hanging from the centre. The silver that encrusts it in place is swirled, ensuring there are no gaps for it to escape. Sam and Steve fall quiet, any feeling of twisted amusement dropping from the room. Bucky slides the necklace across the table.

You recoil. This time not out of fear, but rather from the aura the necklace exudes. 

Goosebumps rise across your skin, and bile rises in your throat. There was a wickedness in the air, as if all the light and sweetness in the world were sucked into an empty, yawning void. The world feels still, as if even the ash outside has failed to fall. The room is cast into a sickening silence, a silence so strong that even the surrounding world refuses to push through. You can no longer hear the people walking through the winding streets of The Warren, not the clang of metal from the smokestacks or the cry of the dockworkers. 

Rot. 

It is the only word that comes to your mind. It is as if the jewel itself is rotten, potent, and putrid. An invisible smell so strong you nearly gag. Your skin crawls the longer you stare, as if you rot along with it—bugs squirming beneath your flesh, the taste of dirt in your mouth.  

“What’s this?” You asked, your voice strained. You know the blood has drained from your face. Bucky looks at you with curiosity. 

“You tell me.”

You look down at the necklace. Dread rises once more, and the chill of soil settles across your shoulders. You twist your head and your neck, feeling uncomfortable and strained the longer you gaze upon the necklace. 

There was something terribly, terribly wrong about it. 

“There’s a… a sickness… a rot—a curse.” You stumble over your words, your entire body squirming against your will. The feeling of dread swims through you; the sensation that you need to get as far away as possible reverberates down your spine. 

“Becca was right.” Steve sings somewhere besides you, but you barely register his words. 

“Where’d you find this?” You ask. The room is tighter than usual, with the rickety, peeling cabinets closing in around you. The oven screeches on its iron legs, the yellowed wallpaper crushing closer and closer. Your head falls into your hands, elbows propped onto the table. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to rid yourself of the sickly feeling. You rub your fingers up your face, pinching the bridge of your nose, then massaging your forehead

“It was given to me. As a gift.” As he speaks, you reluctantly open your eyes once more. The room has returned to as you remember, your vision less dizzying as you take in a deep gulp of air, your heart thundering in your ears. You must make a face, because it prompts him to speak once more. 

“My sister has a sensitivity. She is convinced—”

“There’s a spirit attached to that jewel.” You interrupt before thinking. Your knees bounce beneath the table, your feet shaking. Your entire being screams that you need to get away from the object. You do not care for politeness or fear of these men, as the horror in your heart you felt gazing upon the necklace greatly outweighed any potential anxieties of the future.

“Yes.” His voice matches his composure—cool and collected. Wholly unaffected by the horrific aura cast by the necklace. Bucky and his men were not magically inclined. They were completely oblivious to the calamity that sat before them. 

“The spirits're attached to you, too.” You pause, the feeling of bile rising in your throat once more. “You need to get it lifted.”

“That’s where the favour comes in, doll.”

“I don’t…?” You nearly doubled over. “Please get rid of it. I can’t—”

Barnes leans forward, slowly dragging the necklace over the wood. He slowly deposits it into his breast pocket, watching with curiosity as you sag in relief. You would need to burn this table after they left. You could still sense the rot engrained in the pores of the wood. 

“I need to speak with the spirit attached.”

Your forearms lay flat on the table, and you rest your head against them as you try to remember how to breathe. A wave of exhaustion rolls over you. Was this how they tortured their victims? Wore them down into pathetic, panting messes? Were you about to become another body at the bottom of the Sootstone port? You mumble into the fabric. “I can’t raise a spirit without a name.”

“I know her name.”

You pause, lifting your head slowly. “You want to ask her how to break it? You may know her, but spirits’re tricksters they won’t always give ya the correct information—”

“I know how to deal with her.”

You arch a brow, unsure.

“She’s a scorned lover.” Sam whispers beside you. You jump, having forgotten the two other men sitting besides you. Bucky scowls at his words—the most emotion he has shown in the entire time. 

“Everyone knows you don’t ‘ave a witch for a moll unless you’re gonna marry her.” Steve butts in, and the two men share a chuckle. 

“Shut your mugs. The both of ya.” Bucky snarls, and they both fall silent, although you can’t help but notice their bemused smiles. After a brief, tense silence, the gangster settles back into his seat, tipping his chin upward in a nod. “Morwenna Blackthorn.”

You hesitate, glancing between the three men. They watch you expectantly, relaxing back into their respective seats. Given their status and reputation, you had to presume they were familiar with the workings of underground magic. Licenced practitioners would have clients sign lengthy documents for protection in the event of a spell or session backfiring. The Warrens did not have such luxuries—if you made a mistake, no one could protect you or them from the consequences. 

You inhale sharply, placing your hands palms down on the table. The wood hums beneath your touch, the invisible vapours of the curse tickling your flesh. With a roll of your shoulders, you exhale slowly, allowing your body to relax. 

Ink drips across your vision, swirling darkness millimetres before your eyes. You stare hard into the invisible void, searching blindly through the tendrils of smoke. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your mind hums. Through the dark fog, you can make out figures—flickers of candle flames casting large, distorted shadows. Morwenna Blackthorn. Bones crunch beneath your feet, yet at the same time, you float. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your hands burn into the table, the rotting sensation tangling through your digits, pulling you deeper. 

Morwenna Blackthorn

You can see a thin line of thread hanging through the void. 

Morwenna Blackthorn.

It is red; a series of knots tugged tightly intermittently. 

Morwenna Blackthorn.

Your fingers grasp the fibres gently, your nail hooking around one of the tiny knots. 

You tug.

Morwenna Blackthorn.

A violent, ragged gasp leaves you. It claws up your throat, ripping at the flesh. Your entire body tenses, your spine straightening as your head snaps back. For a moment, you are suspended. You can feel her with you, her ghostly fingers stroking tenderly across your skin. She smooths over the back of your hands, slowly and gradually winding her way up your arms. She clutches your shoulders, her bones digging into your flesh.

Then, with violence strong enough that you fear she has folded your spine in half, she pushes down. 

Your body instantly relaxes, head lulling downward. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and despite the appearance being a milky white, you can see perfectly clearly. Morwenna has settled herself deep within your bones, controlling your movements like a puppeteer. You are conscious enough to understand what is happening, but you are not in control of your actions or speech.

Your mouth spread into a wide, sly smile. “Bucky, my love.”

“Mor.” The gangster greets, although he does not seem entirely pleased. You pout, leaning your elbows onto the table. 

“Not happy to see me?” You coo. Somewhere beside you, Steve shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It is the most off put you’ve ever seen the man so far. He winces as your head swings around, a wicked grin gracing your lips. “Oh, Stevie and Sam. Didn’t see you two here.”

“Mor.” The two men grumble in unison, scowling. 

“Awh. Why so glum, boys?” You whine, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your movements are fluid and graceful, entirely not your own. Your hands stroke across the back of the chair, then swooshes up to meet your chest. 

You lean forward, tutting as you inspect your reflection in the glass of a nearby cupboard. “Trust you to find a pretty one in The Warrens.” 

Your hands move to unpin your mantle, a cloud of ash lingering in the air as you drop it to the floor. You sigh in relief, your fingers unbuttoning the top of your shirt, revealing the curve of your breasts. Your hands smooth down your waist to your hips; your full figure is now displayed. 

“You missed me that much, my love? That you had to find a pretty vessel for me so you could get your cock wet, hm?” You hum, sashying towards the table once more. 

“That’s not why you’re here.” Bucky replies. He seems frozen in place. The horror of familiarity. Recognising the mannerisms of someone he once knew in a complete stranger. 

You ignore his words, unpinning your hair. Thick locks unroll, cascading down your shoulders and back. You let out an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, rolling your neck. The strands frame your face, and the rich colour brings colour to your cheeks. 

“Morwenna.” Bucky snaps. Your brows furrow as you look over to him, pouting once more. “You put a curse. On the necklace.”

Your mind momentarily blanks, as if Morwenna were trying to recall what he said. Spirits often grew confused trying to recall memories, especially ones that brought them anguish. A cog seems to turn as you flash the gangster another beaming smile. 

“The necklace… oh. Did you like it? My parting gift to you? Before you fucked me over you piece of—” Your voice, once sweet and soft, deepens to a guttural growl. Your body shakes, and words cut off as you cough and hack. Your hand raises to your mouth, warm fluid leaking from your lips. You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your fingers and palms down your chin. Blood smears across your skin. 

“You shot me, my love.” You gasp, your brows furrowing as your head tilts. “You shot me.”

“You betrayed us, remember? You were a rat—” Steve jumps in, but is quickly cut off. 

“Steve.” Bucky warns.

Your hands find your stomach, doubling over as you sob. There is no wound, no blood. Still, your hands dig at the fabric while ragged, pathetic cries leave your blood stained lips. 

“How do I break the curse?”

You shuddering sobs stop, a dreadful silence falling over the tiny kitchen. A guttural laugh erupts from you, saliva mixed with blood dripping from your lips to the floor. “The curse. The curse? I should have known… I should have known…”

Your body jerks upward, movements stiff, and jerks like a marionette doll. Sam’s face contorts into one of fear, while Steve looks horrified. You jerk forward, nearly tripping over the chair as you plunge towards the table. Your stomach smacks hard against the wood, a winded wheeze escaping your lungs as you drag yourself forward by your nails. 

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me?” You cry, your head beginning to twist, the angle so unnatural that it strains your neck. 

“How do I break it?” Bucky repeats, voice firm. He hasn’t so much as flinched, a wall of steel as you crawl towards him. 

“It was born in chaos, so it must be undone in chaos. I will find you. I will tear you limb from limb. I will make you rot from the inside out; maggots will grow within you; and mould will bloom in your soul. Everything will crumble to dust beneath your touch. I will ruin you until you b–b—be—”

Your body slides back, and for the first time in the entire session, you grab the reins. You search blindly for the knotted thread, tugging hard. Your body steps back from the table, muscles spasming and tense as your body locks in place. 

You tug harder, and darkness swims across your vision. Candles flicker and dance in the distance, the sun rising and falling as your body twists up and down. The smell of rot slowly subsides, threads slipping from your fingers. The scent of copper and ash is on your tongue, and your head is pounding. 

A dramatic sigh leaves you as your body slumps. You find yourself standing before the table, three sets of eyes burning into you as your own eyes roll back into place. Sam and Steve look equally disturbed as they are horrified, the blond’s mouth agape in shock. 

“The fuck was that?” Sam barks.

“I ain’t never seen a spirit session like that before, Buck—” Steve begins.

“Shut it.” Bucky barks, rising to his feet. 

There is a sickly feeling in your chest, a radiating pain across your ribcage. You barely register the gangster walking up to you, gripping your chin between his index and thumb. 

“You pulled yourself out early.” Bucky sneers. “Why?”

“Buck—” Steve calls again. With a growl, Bucky releases you, twisting around to snarl at Steve. 

“I thought you told me she was the best in the Warrens?”

“She is. Did’ya not see that shit?”

“She didn’t get me an answer—”

“Chaos magic.” You finally speak up, your voice raspy. The gangsters pause, slowly turning to face you. “She told you. It’s chaos magic. What’s born in chaos must be undone in chaos.”

Your hand raises to your face, your fingertips touching your upperlip as warm blood flows from your nose. You raise your hand into the light, inspecting the crimson liquid. Your eyes cut over to Bucky's, and he frowns. 

“Chaos magic?” He questions. 

“Sex magic.” You state, fighting the heat growing across your cheeks. Without much of a care or a flinch, you navigate your way past the group. Your shirt brushes against Bucky’s jacket, the rotting feeling momentarily settling in your stomach as the fabric brushes his breastpocket. You pause in front of your sink, knuckles white as you grip the lip. Blood continues to stream steadily from your nose, dripping into the basin. 

“You focus your thoughts on one thing; you get pulled into a trance. Take the energy, the chaos, and you focus it. At the peak, picture what you’re manifestin’. The chaos that you’ve built through the act is released at the moment of orgasm.” You explain, your gaze solidly locked onto the blood that swirls down your drain. 

“Sex magic.” Bucky hums in thought.

Steve spoke up from beside him with a snicker. “How poetic.”

—

You hated how your hands shook. If Bucky had noticed, he hadn’t brought it up. He was coolly inspecting your tiny bedroom, hands tucked into his pockets. The room had an eclectic taste, with walls covered in shelving. You collected books, objects, trinkets, or other things that helped your work. Drying herbs hung from your curtain railings, your desk cluttered with papers you had hastily scribbled notes upon. 

You ground your palm harder into the pestle, gritting your teeth as you worked the herbs inside into a fine paste. Your bed, stripped bare, had been pushed to the side of the room. It usually sat near the centre, atop a fraying rug. The rug had also been removed, rolled up, and placed somewhere in your stairway. The old wood beneath had been painted by your hand, with intricate runes, symbols, and swirls making up the general shape of a circle. You had already lined it with black salt, candles burning at each cardinal direction. At the centre of the circle, you had laid your bedding and pillows for comfort. 

Bucky had sent Steve and Sam away, the two men snickering like a pair of school boys. You all knew what was about to unfold; it was just a question of why you had allowed yourself to become tangled up in such a situation. You had done similar rituals for clients before, yes, but none of those clients had been the boss of the Smog Boys. None of them had been Bucky Barnes. 

You eyed him as he paused in front of the carved circle, mindlessly playing with the jewelled necklace that hung from his grip. The awful, dreadful, rotting sensation was dulled; you’d nearly begged the gangster to let you cleanse the object. It was a temporary relief that would wear down in a few hours, but at least you could complete your work without gagging at the feeling of it. You hurriedly poured the thick paste from the herbs into a pot, which boiled in your fireplace. It only took a couple of stirs for the potion to settle. You could feel Bucky’s eyes assessing your every movement as you poured the steaming liquid into two cups, briefly swirling each to ensure the consistency was correct. 

“Remind me what this is.” The gangster asked, closing the distance between you. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the scent. 

“A potion to help with the ritual. Some find it…hard to perform.” You say, wincing as you realise what you implied. Bucky raises a brow as you fumble over your words. “It heightens arousal and pleasure.”

“I won’t find it hard to perform.” He replies curtly. 

“I know. I wasn’t saying that—I just… from experience…” You stumble again. If only you could punch yourself in the face for this idiocy. 

“Relax, doll.” He hums, his hand finding your shoulder. You exhale sharply, lips pressed together, as your shoulders drop in response. “I can find someone else if you don’t want this.”

As much as you hated yourself for admitting it, you did want this. Maybe it was a sick curiosity, wondering if this dangerous yet handsome man could perform as well as you imagined, as well as it was rumoured. You swallow, your mouth feeling dry. “No. I want this.”

“Good.” His hand brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, and his head dips to look at you better. “Honestly, I could fuck you with or without the potion, doll.”

There is a knowing smirk spreading across his face as your mind blanks. Fucking rake. You consider if the fumes from the potion have already leaked their effects onto you both. You can feel a warmth growing between your legs. 

“It’s my job.” You mutter, stepping away. Although you’re unsure if the reassurance is for yourself or for him. His chuckle follows you as you sweep across the room, returning to your small desk. “Do you want me to explain the ritual in detail or just give you the gist of it?”

“Spare the details; just run me through what I need to do.” He responds. He has closed the distance between the both of you again, peering over your shoulder as you fumble through your things. 

“Well, it’s pretty simple.” You sigh, turning around. Your chests are nearly pressed together as you spin. You back up as far as possible, your hands moving behind your back as you grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. "We’ll have to draw some blood with a blade and put it on the necklace to link it to our energies. It’s sigil magic, nothing you’ll have to worry about. We take the potions…”

You fade off with a shrug. Bucky smirks once more, his chin lifting in amusement, but his gaze remains solidly locked onto you. His hands go to his pockets, and his wide chest blocks your movements. You clear your throat. “The ending is more what you’ll need to focus on. When you reach… climax… you must focus all your energy on the necklace and nothing else. I will be there to guide and remind you, but you can’t let your thoughts stray.”

“What about you? What will you have to think of?” He questions, his voice low. His adams apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his tongue running across his bottom lip in thought. Intriguing question. No one had asked you that before. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re the only one who needs to orgasm.”

“Why?”

“The curse is linked to you. Only you can break it, with my assistance, of course. I am just here to help guide you and lend you my energy. I am just a conduit for the magic, to focus it.” You explain. Thinking it was best to get it over and done with, you finally pluck up the courage to push past him. 

Your athame was already in place; the candles were lit, salt laid, and sigil memorised. There was only one thing left to do—the act. You crouch down by the fireplace, retrieving the two cups. Bucky gives you an incredulous look. 

“It tastes better than it smells.” You reassure him, handing him the saucer. He inspects the liquid once more, wincing, then shrugging in surprise as he finally downs the lot. You watch with a scrutinising gaze as he places the cup down, rolling his shoulders. 

The potion would take all of five seconds to take affect. It didn’t alter the brain or take away authority; rather, it heightened already present feelings of arousal or pleasure. The user would experience a rather euphoric sensation. Dodgy brothels often microdosed their clients with such herbs to heighten the experience. Also to hook in a new, loyal customer. Used sparingly, the herbs were fine, but they were highly addictive. 

And illegal. Most of your work fell into that category.

Within moments, you could see Bucky’s pupils dilate, his jaw and shoulders relaxing, and his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. His voice was strained as he spoke up, his tone gravelly and low as he cleared his throat in surprise. “Fuck. That does feel good, doesn’t it?”

You smile shyly into your own cup and swallow down the liquid. You were familiar with the taste and it’s effects. It was surprisingly sweet, with a vanilla, nutty aftertaste. As soon as it hit your stomach, you could already feel the warmth growing in your core—a delightful tingling sensation spreading up your spine and skull. 

You were quick to place your cup down and cross the room to retrieve the athame. You had to pin point your actions very directly so as not to get distracted by the hulking man looming in your room. The potion was definitely potent, because any fear or anxiety had left you. Your body begged for him to come closer, to touch you, to kiss you. Not yet. Soon. 

“Come here.” You murmur, drawing the blade from it’s sheath. Bucky obeys, wordlessly stalking towards you and presenting you with his palm. You look up at him through your lashes, gently taking his hand into yours. Your skin sings at the content, a rush of goosebumps raising across your skin. “We don’t need much blood.”

The gangster is still as you drag the blade in a short cut along the heel of his palm. You push into the mound, coaxing out droplets of blood to blister to the surface. “The necklace.”

He lets out a low, agreeable grunt as he hands it to you. The potion has helped you ignore any bad energy attached to the object. Your skin simmers as you brush your finger tips along the cut, gathering Bucky’s blood. You take the jewel, smearing the blood across the slippery surface into one half of a symbol. Bucky watches expectantly as you hastily repeat the process with your own hand, smearing your blood to complete the symbol. 

“You need to wear it.” You hum and guide the chain over his head. You know you should find a bandage or some kind of healing salve for your hands, but your attention is pulled away as Bucky grasps your hand. An involuntary whimper leaves your throat as he raises your palm to his lips, his tongue peaking out as he runs it across the open wound. The potion had definitely taken effect. Holy fuck, your back arches as pleasure shoots down your arm, blooming at the base of your skull. 

His lips kiss along the cut, sucking and licking. Your mind swims from the sensation—ideas of where else he could be putting his mouth to use. You pull your palm away, dragging it across his cheek as you cup his face. A crimson streak is smeared along his skin, and his lips are glossy from saliva and stained with your blood. The two of you clash in desperation, a rumbling groan being pulled from the gangster as his lips engulf yours. 

You can taste copper on his tongue, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his body. The two of you move in a frantic rhythm, scarcely making room to breathe. You guide him clumsily to the painted circle, the two of you falling to your knees in unison. Blindly, you find his clothing, helping him tug off the jacket and then unbutton his vest. 

His hands slip under your blouse, caressing the skin beneath. His fingers roam to your brassiere, your nipples hardening as he brushes them through the sleek fabric. You mewl into his mouth, squirming under his touch as the pulse between your legs quickens. His large palm comes to rest below your breasts, his thumb sitting on your sternum as he yanks you backwards onto his lap. 

Your lips break, and you gasp for air as the gangster continues his assault down your neck to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His stubble tickles across your neck, and he gathers your skirts, fingers gliding past your stockings to your exposed inner thigh. 

Your head tips backwards to rest on his shoulder, and loud, satisfied sighs leave you. The sensation is near blinding, your body alight with pleasure. Had you accidentally made a stronger dose in your nervousness? You had never yearned in such a way before—

“What’re you doing?” You query with a gasp as his fingers slip beneath your loose tap pants. 

Your question is answered as he strokes a fingertip through your wet folds. 

“You’re so wet.” He hums against your skin, voice strained. You can already feel his erection pressing into you. His grip on you remains firm, your back flush against his chest as he dips two of his fingers into you. Ecstasy fizzles across your skin, nails digging into his skin where you grip his arm. 

“What’re you— I’m supposed to make you—ah!” You whine, your breath coming fast as you lean harder into him. Your hips rock greedily, pushing your pelvis in time with his pumping fingers so the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. 

“Shh, doll. Relax.” He whispers, his tongue licking up the shell of your ear. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body is locked in place by his grip. His pace increases, and the panting in your ear grows as his two digits glide in and out of your tight cunt. 

“Do you like that?” He groans in your ear. Your grinding hips are now giving friction to his cock, which twitches against your backside through his pants. You whimper in response, a short sob bubbling from your mouth as you clench around him. 

Your head lifts, eyes widening as you look down. You can’t see much due to your skirts, but you can feel the knot tightening within your belly. Your hips move more desperately, needy, pathetic moans escaping you as his pace remains steady. 

“Please—” You beg, squirming as the gangster chuckles. 

“You do like this, huh? Even if you acted like a little innocent virgin earlier.” He growls. The vibration is enough to set you over the edge, a loud cry leaving you as you clench hard around his fingers, body spasming. Bucky continues to steadily pump you through your orgasm. “Good girl.”

A continued arousal stirs in your belly at his praise. Your body slumps against him, panting and exhausted. 

“Such a good girl.” He hums again, his digits slipping out of you. You can feel the sloppy mess between your thighs, and as Bucky pulls his hand into the light, you can see the wet drenching his fingers. “I think I like this version of you. The one who makes pretty little noises while I fuck her brains out, hm?”

You’re left speechless as the gangster lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk. 

“Well, time to get this ritual over with then, don’t you think?” He says. You’re too exhausted and drunk on desire to bother replying. You allow him to guide you down, so your head is placed side-ways on one of the pillows. He guides your hips up, your legs slightly spread, and pushes your skirts to your hips. 

“You’ll have to tell me when you’re close, so I can guide you.” You finally muster up the strength to say. The gangster pulls your tap pants down, exposing your cunt fully. 

“Sure thing, doll.” He says in response. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he pulls out his cock. 

Without much warning, he pushes into you, your arousal making it easy for his member to slide in and out of you. A growl burns in the back of his throat while you wordlessly make a fist around the sheets and blankets beneath you. 

“Fuck. You’re so tight.” Bucky groans, his voice strained. “And to think you’ve been hidin’ out in The Warrens all this time.”

He sinks deeper into you, pulling small whimpers and moans from you as he finds a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His hand slides up your clothed back, pushing you harder into the pillow with a grunt. His other hand finds your hips, his grip bruising as he guides you. 

You bite down into the pillow, your pleasured sobs muffled by the feathers. 

“You squeezed so tightly around my fingers; I can’t wait to see how you’ll feel when you come around my cock.” Bucky grunted as he ploughed into you. His hand fists around your loose hair, fingers tangling through the locks as he tugs. Tears are beginning to prickle in your eyes, and your legs are wobbling from the sensation. 

“Please—” you gasp out. 

“Please, what?” The gangster asks, tugging harder. The hand on your hip is squeezing tighter as he holds you in place. 

“Please—I need to—”

“No.” He growls, tugging you upward. You fall backwards into his lap once more, his cock still inside you but somehow deeper from the angle he holds you. “You need to finish the ritual, remember? I can’t have you guide me if you’re too fucked out to talk.”

Another sob leaves you, but you wordlessly nod. You hold onto the burning sensation in your gut, the waves of satisfaction so immense that your limbs tremble. Bucky continues to fuck up into you, his cock steadily driving into you as his free hand comes to lazily swirl your swollen clit. 

You try to remember words, instructions, anything. You feel too high to even breathe. All you can do is focus on the sensation of the necklace rubbing against your back and the friction burning against your skin. 

“Focus on the necklace. How it feels around your neck.” You squeak out, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to ground yourself. “Focus on the feeling of the chain, the weight of the jewel. Think of your blood, how a piece of you is painted onto it.”

There is a moment of silence between the two of you, only the slapping of skin and the rasping of breath. 

“Are you focused on it?” You ask.

“Yes.” The gangster cuts back. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy. 

“Focus.” You whisper, though a breathy moan leaves you. “Feel your energy flow; feel your blood seep into the stone. Picture how it will shatter beneath your power.”

His hips jerk beneath you, his finger on your clit swirling faster. Your breath comes in sharp stutters, your back arching as you find no way to escape the rising sensation. His back is rock solid behind you, his hands keeping you in place as you begin to spiral. Your pussy tightens around him as you begin to scream—

“Please, Bucky. Please!”

Something snaps between the both of you, his hips jerking wildly as he spills into you. He moans into your ear at a deafening level, his fingers digging into your thighs. You double over in pleasure, your vision briefly going black as you cry out. Sparks dance across your skin, your body momentarily alight as the power of magic flows through you. You can feel the rush as your energy meets Bucky’s entangling with one another in a fierce battle. For a second, you feel intoxicated, colours bursting across your sight as the rush of magic rests in your chest, and then, just as quickly as it arrived, it cascades out of you.

Behind you, the sound of shattering can be heard above the moans.  

Panting, Bucky releases you. You slump to the floor, off his lap. His cum drips from your pussy, thighs wet as sticky as you close your eyes, desperately trying to catch your breath. You roll onto your back, pressing your thighs together. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at Bucky. He sits kneeling, dishevelled. His hair is ruffled, blood is still smeared along his cheek, and his shirt is untucked and creased. 

At some point, he has tucked his cock away, suspenders hanging loosely by his hips. His gaze is not on you; rather, it is solely focused on the necklace in his palm. You go to lift your head, but you find yourself too weak and exhausted to bother. A mixture of being too fucked out to care and the lack of energy from acting as a conduit for the ritual. 

“Did it work?” You ask the gangster, and his eyes finally pull up to look at you. His gaze wanders over your face, examining your swollen lips, the blush across your cheeks, and the areas where exposed skin remains. He cracks a grin, lifting his hand. The necklace dangles from his fingers, the large, blue jewel now gifted with a large crack down the centre. 

You let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes flicker closed, a sleepy warmth prickling across your scalp. 

“Doll?”

Your eyes snap open with a jolt. 

“It’s all done? The curse is gone?” The gangster questions. You weakly nod in reply.

“Her spirit and whatever curse she held have been released.” You affirm, voice sleepy, relaxing back into the pillows and blankets. “Apologies. This type of spell drains me.”

Bucky chuckles. You were just glad you had enough sense near the end to actually guide him. The gangster appeared to be attempting to prove something with the orgasms he extracted from you. In the state you were in, you had little reason to complain. 

When you opened your eyes again, he was across the room, vest on and jacket slung over his arm.

“I’ll leave your payment downstairs.” He says, only pausing to look down at you, still curled up on the floor. You blink up at him sleepily. “Thanks for your help, spirit-raiser.”

You can’t find the energy to correct him.