#i need to get back into writing like i love it so much

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cs55, cl16, mv1, lh44, fa14, sv5, dr3, mwebber, jb22 x fem!reader ] three major kinks + a couple minor kinks for each driver

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp; i'm not going to tag all of these bc that would take 5ever BUT 1) everything is consensual & in the setting of a happy, healthy relationship & 2) dm me if you are needing any specific tw's/cw's & i'll be happy to share those!

a/n: it's been a hot, hot minute since i've had the energy to write (i was busy surviving my surgery core rotation at a level 1 trauma center & pediatrics at a major children's hospital), but i've been brewing up a lil something for awhile now! i was stalling out on writing the last part of corsica, so i figured i'd at least give you this to get the juices flowing again! i started this blog about six months ago, & i'm nearly at 500 followers & i wanted to take a moment to thank you all! i love you so much and i hope you enjoy this! these are the kinks i think each of these drivers has! what proof do i have, you ask? absolute fuck-all! enjoy, loves! xx

creampie + breeding kink — he’s a family man & lord knows how badly he wants his own. he’s possessive, too, & this sates both of those desires well for him.  he’s always whispering something in your ear, hand low on your belly about how good you’d look carrying his babies. and once you’re actually pregnant? sweet jesus, he’s never taking his hands off of you.

shower sex — he’s talked a number of times about how he’ll shower multiple times a day, and something tells me he’d never object to a partner. more than once he’s had you against the tiled walls until the water ran cold and your teeth were chattering.  he’d then proceed to take it upon himself to warm you up again, ever the gentleman.

post-workout sex — there’s something about the way you look, out of breath & drenched in sweat that sends all the blood in his body rushing to his cock. you’re trying to push him away, afraid that you’re just too gross, but this man does not give a single fuck.  he adores you in all your sweaty, sticky glory & is on you the second you make it back from your class, peeling you out of your leggings and wrangling your too-tight sports bra over your head.  and it goes the other way as well: his favorite workout cooldown is fucking you senseless; there’s something deeply primal about the exertion of a workout that clouds his head with only thoughts of you, out of breath & on the brink of orgasm.

minor kinks | hair pulling — rough sex — cockwarming — pussy worship — possessiveness — soft dom — teasing — dirty talk

praise kink — he’s a talker in bed, and that means that he’s telling you just how delicious the tight clutch of your velvet walls feels around his cock. one language is not enough to tell you all the ways you make him feel, how good you are, how badly he’s wanted you. it certainly doesn’t hurt when you reciprocate, but the sounds he’s able to work out of you are often enough for him.

vanilla sex — listen: it’s no secret that this man is a romantic, and there are few things as romantic as good ole vanilla sex. sure, some spice is nice every once in a while, but he doesn’t need it to get his rocks off. he’s too caught up in the romance of it all—the tangle of limbs, skin pressed against skin, stuttering breaths, and stammering hearts—to want anything else.  all he needs is you.

kissing — similar as above, charles is a sucker for romance, and a good makeout sess is just the right thing to get him hot and bothered.  he’s very talented with languages, and his mastery of his tongue doesn’t end with words. *wink wink*

minor kinks | oral sex (giving + receiving) — creampie — cowgirl — bathtub sex — breathplay

mutually drunk sex — no matter how much he loves a club scene, he’d always find himself back in your arms.  happy, sloppy, messy sex. as much as he loves a g&t, he loves the taste of you more.

wax play — we’ve seen the clips. he likes dripping the wax just as much as he likes being dripped on, and every time you go to light a candle his eyes get that hungry look like he could devour you whole; you’ve learned how to use this to your advantage.

dirty talk + praise kink — as we all know, this man is a certified YAPPER. and, unsurprisingly, that extends to the bedroom, too.  always groaning, grunting, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, there’s very little that leaves him truly speechless; you’ll always know exactly how he feels when you're riding his cock or taking him deep in your throat, whether that’s in dutch, english, or the french he’s been trying to practice. and, given his upbringing, he lives for the praises that fall past your lips; he aims to please, and your sweet words are all the motivation he needs.

minor kinks | restraints (giving + receiving) — spanking — threesomes — nipple play — sensory play

massage — he takes great pride in his physique, and he thinks every inch of you is perfect.  he loves watching all the tension leave your body. with such limited time in his busy, busy life, he thrives on the time he gets to spend with you; few things can compete with the peace, intimacy, and pleasure that comes from the feeling of your hands working over the tight muscles of his back and legs. and if they happen to wander somewhere else? well, what a happy accident that would be!

fingering — if there’s one thing lewis knows, it’s that a man’s most important tool isn’t the one between his legs.  he loves all the ways in which you unravel for him, your back pressed against his chest with your legs draped over his own to keep them open.  he’ll play with you like that for hours if he could, unlacing your composure until you're boneless and melting into him with every touch. (also, dear god, have you seen his hands? female gaze bait of the highest form.)

the lingerie stays on — there’s a litany of pick-up lines about clothes, etc. looking good on you but better on their floor, and a one mr. hamilton disagrees with that sentiment; we know well how he appreciates fine garments, and he loves them even more when you’re wearing them.  he’s most certainly one to spoil his partner, and if he’s going to buy you that agent provocateur set, you can bet he wants to see you in it.

minor kinks | soft dom — cowgirl — voyeurism — intimacy — dirty talk — shower sex — pillowtalk

face riding — why do you think he takes so much pride in his neck strength? and even when you’re squirming away from overstimulation, he’s more than able to hold you in place by hooking his toned biceps over your shaking thighs. he’s a menace, but he never leaves a partner wanting for more.

wearing his clothes — okay, this one isn’t original in the slightest because i simply cannot get this blurb by @folkloresthings out of my head.  nando would keel over at the sight of you in his clothes, especially if there was a particular lack of certain undergarments. he’d pull you in by the excess material and have you right there if feasible.

anal sex — all the nando fuckers know that he’s a little freaky—can i get an amen? that being said, his experience goes a long way in helping his partner get the most out of it and making it a pleasurable experience for all parties. he’d take his time working you open, pairing it with leg-shaking orgasms to wash away any doubts in your mind. it’s a new sensation, but a welcome one at that.

minor kinks | swallowing / facials — teasing — spanking — rough sex — sloppy sex — aftercare

teasing — a tyrant on the track and one in the bedroom as well. or in the car. or at a dinner with a few too many pairs of eyes. regardless, being a tease is his favorite above all else despite his own inability to handle a healthy dose of his own medicine. 

overstimulation — this more or less goes hand-in-hand with his teasing, but he loves the way you beg when you’re coming down from one high and coasting right into another. “just one more, liebling” or “you’ve got another one, don’t you, schatz?” or “i know you can take it, kleiner hase” before making your vision go white as he wrings another orgasm from you.

morning sex — but, above all else, sebastian is a lover, and few things are quite as intimate as slow, fumbling, half-awake morning sex where you’re mumbling praises and communicating in soft, hushed sounds of pleasure. chasing sensations and desires before your mind is even fully awake takes a strong, trusting bond, and he prides himself on this with his partner.

minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — mutual masturbation — toys — soft restraints (giving + receiving) — creampie / breeding — praise kink — dirty talk

cowgirl — this man & his mobsession w/ texas—need i say more? how does that saying go, again? “save a horse…”

photos/sextape — daniel3.jpg would like a word.  he’s obsessed with this new medium, and what’s a better way to remember a spicy moment than on film? plus, when you’re traveling 200-plus days a year, you need a way to bring a piece of home with you however you can, whether that’s watching you fall apart while arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight or taking him into the back of your throat as you look up at him through damp lashes or riding his cock or or arching your back as he grips your shoulder tight…you get the picture.

threesomes — considering the way that everyone fawns over him on the grid, this man could so easily work himself into some surprising pairings. his love language is physical touch and he’s not afraid to share it. that, combined with his competitiveness and desire to please, turns into a dangerous desire for him to see you fucked out and overwhelmed by your own need for more.

minor kinks | mirror sex — dirty talk — thigh riding — facefucking — rough sex — hair pulling

rough sex — aussie grit. there’s nothing else i need to say other than he’s a wild ride.

aftercare — any rough lover worth their prowess, though, knows the importance of aftercare, and mark is no different in that regard.  he takes it very seriously and is always checking in afterward to make sure you enjoyed yourself as much as he did, peppering you in sweet kisses and warm embraces.

pussy worship — we’ve all seen the clip, right? this man knows how to eat pussy and he’s damn good at it. better yet—he loves doing it. you’d practically have to pry him off you from the overstimulation, his tongue, lips, and teeth finding alllll the right ways to make you fall apart.

minor kinks | cockwarming — spanking — possessiveness — massage — swallowing / facials

exhibitionism + voyeurism — the grid slag. he’s confident about his body and his abilities, and he’s not afraid to share. he’s not overly possessive and an unabashed hedonist to boot, so this pairing works perfectly to get his rocks off (and hopefully yours, too). he’s a little freak, and he’s not afraid to let it show!

spanking — when you’re especially mouthy (frequently to get these exact reactions) and he’s a little bold, jenson is partial to taking you over his knee and seeing how long you can keep up the act before you’re a whimpering mess. frequently this ends with him literally kissing your ass, two fingers buried knuckle deep in your dripping cunt while another toys with your too-sensitive clit.

brattiness — again, like above, he loves when you backtalk or drag your heels on him, making him work for your pleasure and, on some nights, your submission. (though, he’s not afraid to admit how fucking hot he finds it when you take control, using him for your pleasure and taking what you need. all that matters to him is raw, messy, dirty fun.)

minor kinks | threesomes — begging — degradation kink (giving + receiving) — nipple play — oral sex (giving + receiving) — toys

final note: that's all, folks! now what do you think? let me know! 🤍 as always, you can follow my writing sideblog @velvetsainz-writes​ where i reblog inspo & recs!

[gay-dorito-dust]

@thelightofmylife wouldn’t it be funny if I decided to reread your entire HSR writing list again (I in fact did)… lolol <3 I’m still thinking about your response to me btw. You’re very kind 💖💞💗 truly I can’t get enough of your writing and I suppose kind words

No pressure to do this request if you don’t want to, you can also take this ask as an invitation to chat too

( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

ahh! I was thinking ,,,, Sunday + Aventurine + Jing Yuan… and anyone else you would personally want to do …!! Giving them headpats because you love them soooo much!!! And receiving or asking for headpats in trade … <3 i think it’s a universal thing that headpats are <33 so good and lovely and good for showing love ;w;’ <3

Jing Yuan will gladly accept your head pats, he finds your beaming face adorable as you gently patted his head as though you were being extremely cautious with how you gave him head pats.

He recognises it as your primary display of love after awhile and would create a routine where he would just sit himself in front of you, claim that he was meditating, and closes his eyes and waits until he felt you begin to pat him on the head and mutter ‘soft floofy hair’ under your breath as he fights back the urge to smile.

You really do want his heart and he didn’t want to go back to a reality where he did not know the power of your comforting head pats.

Someone could’ve been looking for him about something serious and when they’ve enter the room, they are greeted to the sight of him him dozing off all the while getting treated to some well deserved head pats from you.

A bird popped out of his hair once during a headpat session and you were scared off of giving him head pats for a while in fear of having another tiny bird fly out from his hair. Jing Yuan was a sad man that day and would stop fucking pouting until Yanquing asked you to put him out of his misery and give Jing Yuan his head pats, he couldn’t train with a moody general who didn’t get his daily head pats.

Jing Yuan wasn’t afraid of giving out headpats of his own. He gave Yanquing a couple in the past but he used them sparingly. You however, you could have as many headpats as you’d like from him and Jing Yuan wouldn’t complain, especially not as he got the chance to watch you melt under his touch to the point you were practically cuddled into his side with a look of pure content written across your face.

So if he were to see that you weren’t having the best of days he’d immediately start giving you headpats in hopes of making you feel better. Jing Yuan’s logic was that seeing as how your headpats always helped make his day just that little bit brighter. Jing Yuan could only hope that he could pay it forward to you in a way that let you know that he would always have your back, always.

Aventurine leans into your hand as you give him head pats and closing his eyes as he enjoyed any amount of affection you decided to give him.

He needed this, he really did.

At first he was afraid of what the implication meant but now, he would practically sprawl himself across your lap and silently wait until you were done with what you were doing to give him some head pats, whining that you don’t pay enough attention to him.

He wasn’t use to such gentle, loving touch such as yours and now that he’s gotten a taste, he’s become addicted and would always find a way to get you to give him head pats no matter what. He would ask but Aventurine felt as though he was only worth them when he’s done something to earn such affection.

He viewed everything as a transaction and your headpats were no different.

Until you told him one day that he didn’t have to ever ask to receive love and affection, at least not with you and that you would gladly give him headpats just for waking up.

Aventurine cried that night in your arms as you gave him soft, comforting headpats.

Now aventurine demands headpats for practically everything but you didn’t mind as you were more than happy to spend hours on end if it meant spending time with your lover and reassuring him of your love for him. It heals apart of him that he didn’t know needed healing before, you heal him with your unwavering kindness and compassion and he didn’t know how the appropriate way to thank you, other then to give you some headpats himself.

Aventurine’s headpats were soft, gentle, Alamo as though he was scared he was going to hurt you but they were reassuring and encouraging at the same time that made you feel as though you could move mountains.

His headpats were like a silent ‘I love you’ for a singular reason.

He would pat your head three times and linger there for a couple of seconds then patting your head three more times before repeating this a couple more times, even going as far as to adding in a couple of kisses to your face in between. He loved hearing you laugh but he loved it when you shown signs of being comfortable, being safe with him as that was all he wants was to make you feel safe and happy with him because that’s how you made him feel on a daily basis.

Sunday finds your need to give him head pats amusing and will gladly let you do so to your hearts content if it brings you so much joy.

It doesn’t matter if he was busy because Sunday will always make room for you and you head pats no matter what, and will stress the importance to his staff that a specific time slot remains reserved for you and only you because your head pats were pure magic to the Halovian.

His wings would flutter softly and in time with your head pats that you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute the sight was as Sunday tries to get them to stop, but ultimately just accepts that his wings had a mind of their own when it came to you and how reciprocal they were to your touch.

He defiantly needs them after a hard days work and will most defiantly collapse on your lap, wings drooping like a pair of dog ears in tandem to express his exhaustion, and sigh as he felt you begin to softly pat his head.

‘You’ve done amazing today honey.’ You tell him.

‘Thank you my dearest but all I want to do now is relax with you if that’s quite alright with you.’ Sunday said tired and you couldn’t deny him when he was like this, and for the rest of the afternoon you spent cuddled up with Sunday and giving him head pats as his wings tried to match with the pace of your pats.

Sunday does reward you with headpats of your own but they may not come as frequently as you might like but you understood that he was a busy man, when you do get your headpats its mainly when you were on the brink of falling asleep, so often times it felt like a dream. Sunday wishes he could give you as many headpats as you’d like but giving you them while you were half asleep was for the best.

Bonus: when he’s cuddling you from behind, his wings will try and give you headpats but end up hitting the sides of your face, so somethings you’d wake up to a pair of soft grey wings softly smacking you first thing in the morning.

[moonstruckme]

The other day I fell down the stairs of my building and had to just like. Get back up and go to work and my knees are all fucked up and I’m so sore. Do you think you could write doctor!remus or casual dom Remus when his girl tells him about it hours later? Or whatever you think is best story wise lol.

Don’t worry about it if not, your writing is literally my absolute favourite right now, you are so amazing!! -angie

Hi Angie, thank you for requesting <3

cw: blood

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 666 words (oooo)

When the car stops, Remus won’t let you get out on your own, which is embarrassing even though there’s no one but him around to witness it. Remus is overall in a horribly embarrassing mood. 

Though you tried to hide it, you’d noticed him noticing the stiffness in your legs as you walked out to his car after work, and before you’d had a chance Remus had reached over and buckled your seatbelt himself. The whole drive home he’d been spooky silent, occasionally shooting narrow-eyed looks to the blood stains on your work pants. 

“I’m okay,” you try to reason with him now, when he sets his hands on your hips to take some of your weight. “I’ve been walking all day, baby.” 

“I know, that’s worse.” Your boyfriend is huffy. He seems to be contemplating fully picking you up and carrying you inside. 

You press your lips together while he supports you the rest of the way to the door, holding you firmly to his side when he needs one hand to unlock it. The two of you go straight to the bathroom, where the dress you were originally going to wear to work today still lies on the floor. Remus frowns but doesn’t comment. 

When you’d taken a tumble on the concrete stairs outside your apartment this morning, you’d been running too late to be concerned with anything but looking presentable and getting to work. Your dress left your bloody knees exposed and made you feel like a child fallen from their bike, so you’d screwed up your mouth and forced a pair of work pants on over the burning cuts, then changed into an appropriate top to match. Your knees have been alternately stinging and aching all day, and when walking back home from work seemed too much you’d called your boyfriend for a ride. He seems determined to make you regret it. 

“Sorry,” you murmur after he lifts you onto the counter. 

Remus looks at you. “What for?” The question isn’t patronizing or a test. He wants to know. 

“For not telling you.” 

He sighs softly, looking down to fiddle with the button of your pants. You trace the cruel line of a scar from his forehead down to his cheek. 

“I wouldn’t mind so much if you’d taken the time to clean them properly,” he says. “But if you were in my place—lift your hips for me, love—and I called you to say I couldn’t get home by myself because I’ve been hurting all day and not done anything about it, wouldn’t you be a bit distraught?”

“I would,” you admit. You suck in a quiet breath when he starts pulling your pants down over your knees. 

“Sorry,” he says, unsticking the fabric from your ruined skin as gently as he can. They slide the rest of the way down far easier, and Remus kisses his teeth when your knees are revealed. “Dovey.” He sounds equal parts pitying and disappointed. 

“Sorry.” 

“Let’s stop trading apologies.” There’s the barest hint of humor in your boyfriend’s tone as he finishes tugging your pants off your ankles, letting them puddle on the floor and leaving you in your underwear. The countertop is cold on your bare skin. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, careful of your knees as he leans forward to give you a kiss. “I’m not going to ask you not to do it again—although I hope you won’t—because I know you, but I get that you’re sorry, sweetheart.” His thumb swipes over the unbroken skin above your knee, lips turning down unhappily. “I’m sorry you hurt yourself, and that you’ve been in pain. I promise to try and lecture you about it as little as possible, okay?” 

You can’t help but smile, your voice coming out wry. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome, dove.” He gives your hip a condescending little pat. “You can make it up to me by sitting still while I take care of these and tell you about infection.” 

[minswriting]

hey hey I saw you're open for requests!

Anything for Hotch getting caught with non-BAU reader who he shouldn't be associated with? Maybe there's an age gap or she's the babysitter or someone's daughter/sister or even an unsub/witness.

Ik its a really broad request but I love your writing so I totally trust you - I just love a semi forbidden ship (without an angsty or sad ending!).

Thanks!!

nsfw | mdni

warnings: talks of murder, stalking, rape (nothing detailed because it’s literally just a summarization thing lol), nsfw content, getting caught, inappropriate relationships, etc.

it all began when you were a victim of a case. you had been getting stalked by an unsub in new york, a man who was killing women that reminded him of the woman that left him. he would stalk his victims before raping and killing them. you had been approached by the fbi, taking you into protective custody to ensure that the same thing didn’t happen to you. and that’s when you met aaron hotchner.

to say the two of you had immediately taken a liking to one another was an understatement. the two of you flirted with each other right off the bat which wasn’t really the best thing to do due to his position. you were a victim, not someone he met randomly at the bar. even so, he just couldn’t get you off of his mind.

so before he left to go back to virginia, aaron had given you his number. and now? well, it’s been a few months and the two of you have been seeing one another regularly like this weekend. you had flown to virginia to visit aaron and stay with him.

the house was quiet as jack had gone to jessica’s to sleepover for the weekend, leaving you and aaron to be alone. the only sounds in the house were the sounds of your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping together.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” aaron exclaimed as he thrusted his cock inside of you. his brown eyes were looking down directly at your face. your head rested on the pillow, hair sprawled out, cheeks red, and face contorted in pleasure. “you love my cock, don’t you?” he asked as he watched your eyes roll back with each thrust of his cock.

“mhm,” you nodded your head, licking your lips. “i love your cock so much, aaron,” you replied, moaning loudly. “always feels so good.”

aaron rocked his hips, thrusting into you at a pace that felt best for the both of you. his cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars. aaron looked down at your pussy, watching his cock disappear inside of you. your cunt was glistening with arousal. “you’re absolutely soaked,” aaron groaned, bringing a hand to start rubbing your clit.

you simply whined in response, gripping the sheets below you as you felt yourself get near the edge. “i’m so close, aaron,” you moaned, opening your eyes to look at the man in front of you.

“fuck, me too, baby,” he replied.

and just as you felt your peak nearing, there was a “oh no! oh god!” at the door, followed by a small thud, signaling the person had dropped something. “i’m so incredibly sorry, sir, i-uh,” you and aaron both looked at the person at the same time, scrambling to cover yourself up with the blanket.

at the door was a blonde, someone you’ve never met before. “garcia,” aaron’s face hardened as he tried to compose himself, fully covered by the blanket. “what brings you here?”

“i-well, sir,” garcia began, glancing at you and then at aaron. “you hadn’t answered your phone at all in the past three hours and we have a new case so i told the team i’d come here and look for you and well- is that y/n from the new york case?” penelope asked finally as she rambled, looking at you fully.

you looked down at the blanket, being unable to come up with the proper words to speak.

“not that it matters but yes,” aaron exclaimed. “now please, leave. i need to get changed and then i’ll be right there.” and without a second glance, penelope picked up her phone from the ground and left slamming the door closed, leaving you and aaron alone. “i’m so sorry about that,” aaron apologized, looking at you. he grabbed your hand. “i didn’t expect to be needed at all tonight.”

“it’s okay,” you said with a small smile. “duty calls.”

“are you okay?” he asked, checking in on you.

you let out a breathless laugh. “other than being absolutely mortified that your co-worker just walked in on us nailing one another? i’m perfect.” you grinned at your partner.

aaron laughed as well, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. “yes well, i agree.” he exclaimed. “i should get ready. i’m sorry we won’t be able to spend the weekend together.” he said, looking at you with a look of guilt.

“don’t sweat it, aaron,” you said with a reassuring look. “i can come down next weekend. maybe even spend a week?”

“i’d love that,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

“sounds like a date.”

and with that, aaron kissed your forehead and lips before getting up off the bed and getting himself ready. let’s just say that when next weekend rolled around, you guys definitely made up for lost time.

however, the secret that aaron was seeing you had most certainly had been told to the rest of the team.

[randombush3]

love's gonna get you killed

alexia putellas x reader

summary: alexia is older, wiser, and trying to make you the best. in doing so, she loses sight of more important things.

words: 5.4k

warnings: it’s a little bit toxic and there’s an age gap

notes: the request for this can be found here. genuinely never flinched more when writing something and this is only the beginning... NEW TRILOGY TIMEEEE

p.s. it's set in two timelines and i hope you clock otherwise this will not make sense

then again, this could've been a fever dream over the past few days soooo

Morning. 

Like dawn; like the freshness of dew on the grass and a light breeze. A thousand suns and the bluest of skies. 

How do you even begin to describe it? 

A spark? 

Yes. It starts with a spark. 

Barcelona play Levante. An away match for the former, but hardly a challenge. Tough games are increasingly difficult to come by with the depth of their squad (and the failings of their league), but Alexia doesn’t mind too much. The break is welcomed with open arms, and she loves nothing more than to crush her opponent. 

She is merciless, but she is never unkind. 

The goals come flowing like an unstoppable river; white-water rapids tearing up the shitty pitch and obliterating the Levante players. Alexia runs to stay afloat, to further prove the excellence of the club she adores, and her buoyancy is mimicked by those of equal skill. 

Weirdly, an intruder survives the flood. 

What was struck off as a clean sheet is flipped on its head; tainted, stained. 

One goal. 

One magic boot, one hero. 

One player saves Levante from losing four to nil. 

The small-ish crowd wildly shouts your name, well-acquainted with screaming those syllables after seeing the swoosh of the white net and the step towards victory. 

Alexia’s eyebrows furrow, although she knows they are not going to lose. It’s frustrating for her, having failed to apprehend a pass somewhere down the line that had connected and connected until it found your feet and soared home. In her head, clouded with pride, it makes no sense. 

Who the fuck thinks they can score against the greatest club in the world? 

(Maybe, thinking about it now, Alexia is a little unkind.) 

The rallying war-cry that she roars catches your smug attention. You’re glad she thinks you’re a threat, even if your team is technically being thrashed.

Somehow, Alexia assigns herself to mark you. The fluidity of Barcelona’s formation allows for the defence to press higher than their manager’s instructions, and, as you are clearly the best Levante has, you are all over the ball; drawn deeper into the action. You almost forget the definition of ‘striker’, too engaged in the midfield. 

You’ll be bollocked for it later, you think when there’s a brief reprieve, the ball rolling out of play for a Barcelona throw-in. You look at the gap you have left in the front line and the chaos you have caused in the midfield, and you try to convince yourself to return to the game-plan. But then there’s Alexia Putellas, her hand pressed against your back, fingers gripping your shirt to stop you from intercepting the bouncing ball as it hurtles towards one of her own. 

Alexia Putellas has a decisive grip on you. She pulls you back, and she makes it seem easy. 

You take one look at her expression, jaw clenched as she concentrates on ripping your team to shreds, and feel the need to roll your eyes.

Her determination to embarrass you is admirable enough. It’s clear that Alexia can’t handle losing in any capacity. It’s clear that she cares. 

She is worried, and that is obvious too. 

She doesn’t let you get very far from her, despite the shouts for extra coverage down the middle. Alexia is clever when it comes to football, and she can smell talent like a blood-thirsty shark. Preoccupying herself with defending meaningless passes that only wind the clock down would be useless; it will always be useless when you are on the pitch. 

Because you’re good. Really good. Young, fresh, talented, and just what the Barcelona squad might need. 

The ball comes to your feet and she is ready to quell the threat. She faces you, her closed defending designed to make you feel caged. However, when the ball slips between her open legs, she is left to catch smoke in the wind, and, though it’s at her own expense, she is impressed. 

Just like that, something ignites. 

...

Alexia wakes up with a low, determined groan. Her alarm is loud and you begin to move in your sleep, distressed by its intense, relentless mission to rouse the entire world. Alexia doesn’t care if you want to sleep in. She thinks you should be foaming at the mouth to train with her today. 

It’s the day after the latest league match. 

Together, Alexia and you scored three shared goals. The connection on the pitch is undeniable, and has been since Barcelona leapt at the chance to sign you at the start of last season. 

She’s an impactful player and is lethal when her passes are fired towards you. 

Days like these are tests. You hear the alarm and know you are waking up beside your captain, not your girlfriend. 

The alarm might as well signify the start of another trial; another exam. Do you want to be good, or the best? Do you know that talent is not everything? 

Whenever the questions appear, more in her eyes than on her sharp tongue, you hold back your remark. It’s the same every time. 

Maybe I don’t want to be the best, Alexia.

Maybe I have more talent than you, Alexia.

Captain Alexia Putellas is easier to shout at than the woman you love. 

...

Levante loses but you do not seem disheartened; you’re only twenty, and there will be many more matches to win in the future. 

You wipe the sweat from your brow, laughing at how some of the Barcelona players grimace as you hold out the same hand for them to shake. They are mostly the younger ones; those you know from the national team. 

They ask you whether you’re going to celebrate your goal later. There’s no real reputation of partying attached to your name, but there is a certain standard that comes with being a young and bright star. Kick-off was early, and it would be a good day to explore Valencia’s nightlife. 

“I’m going home tonight,” you explain pointedly, just to stop them from further taking the piss. 

“No way.” 

“Yeah, we’re having dinner.” 

“You and your family are–?” 

“I’m trying to move past it,” you reply. It’s curt and a clear end to the conversation. The crowd of players disperses soon after and you are following the victors back to Barcelona before you know it. 

A sleek, black car picks you up from the station with more than the necessary fanfare. The driver’s window rolls down, revealing an unfamiliar face; dark sunglasses, starch-ironed shirt. 

“You’re new,” you mutter to the driver as you slide into the backseat. He remains silent. “Where did the last one go? It hasn’t been that long.” He couldn’t have died or anything, you’re sure of it. 

It has only been, what, four years since you were last here? 

Your parents divorced when you were seven. Like most cases, you were caught in the crossfire, but that was hardly traumatic enough. 

They were liberal and believed in your emotional capacity with slightly more vigour than it deserved. They told you all the gory details: who slept with whom; who should go to Hell. 

The most gruesome part was the debate about who should keep you. It was a bloody battle, but not a choice a seven-year-old was able to make. And your father, the pathetic man he had become, bowed out after a month, fucking right off to Munich with a new job and bitterness in his heart that led him to vow to never, ever be in contact with you again. He lost and he chose to keep on losing. 

Fatherless, it was easy to attach yourself to the man your mother began to rebuild her life with. He was caring and he made your spiralling mother happier, funding lavish shopping trips and holidays. 

You moved into his house in the most affluent part of Barcelona – that was home, even if it didn’t quite feel like it. 

But you grew older, and so did the wonderfully in-love couple. Your father’s nose moulded itself onto your face, and his eyes grew more prominent whenever your mother tried to converse with you. It haunted her, your likeness, and it was unsettling to the man who wanted a family of his own. 

There was an easy route to rid themselves of you: boarding school in the US. You cried, riddled with homesickness, every night for months, while they procreated as though they had no pre-existing child. Soon came twins; a mix of their own, a family of their own. 

So they became four, and, at sixteen, you became one; emancipated and ready to train in the Wolfsburg academy, having progressed quite well through the years at school (earning your call-up to Spain’s youth teams, winning a few medals, showing off what you considered the talent that made your existence worthwhile – the usual). 

“Hi,” you say as the door to the mansion swings open. The marble floors are vaguely familiar, but the two boys peering at you behind the housekeeper are not. “Is, um, dinner ready yet?” 

...

With the alarm still blaring, Alexia runs a warm hand down your bare back, calloused fingers pressing into the divot of your spine. It is always like this with her: one thing said by her actions, another by her mouth. The nature of the message flips and switches as she pleases, but she never seems to be entirely able to make up her mind. 

You sigh into the pillow, burnt by the flames left in the wake of her touch. “I’m tired.” The sound is muffled but clear enough to slowly tick down the seconds until the bomb explodes. “I’m tired from last night, Ale. From the match and, you know…” 

She shuts the alarm off. It’s an hour earlier than what it needs to be, but once upon a time, there was a reason for that. 

You catch a glimpse of the past behind your closed eyes as you feel her weight shift on the bed, legs straddling your hips as the sheets are pulled down to expose more of your bare skin. Her hands traverse your body, pressing into the muscles of your back with too much pressure and none at all. She is a lead weight and she is a ghost. 

She is full of contradictions. 

“You need to come with me today.” She grazes over a purpling bruise, inflicted by her own ravenous mouth. You hiss in pain, but it is forgotten the minute her lips kiss the crime scene with something almost apologetic. 

“Baby, I’m too tired to train.” 

“Your passes were sloppy.” Kisses trail across the backs of your shoulders, the base of your neck, the middle of a canvas she wants nothing more than to wreck over and over again. “And you were lucky to scrape your goal.” Her teeth sink into your flesh experimentally; the sharp pain gone before you begin to process it. “It was a beautiful goal, though. You looked beautiful scoring it.” 

You groan, your body arching involuntarily into her touch, pulled in by something stronger than your will. Alexia is intoxicating; Alexia clouds your mind. “I missed that shot,” she continues, dangerously close to anger. “Your fault.” 

“How was it–” You whimper as she targets the knots in your back. “How was it my… my fault?” 

Her fingers dig into the tightness of your muscles, unaffected by how you tense beneath her. They are sore, but it is more than that. 

Alexia has trapped you, and you are at her mercy. 

It sends shivers down your spine. 

“Because,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear, “I was too busy watching you. You’re such a fucking distraction, you know.” 

“Ale…” 

Her laughter is musical but plays a haunting melody that prickles the hairs at the back of your neck. “Don’t be so desperate,” she purrs, her hands roaming lower with a searing heat behind them. “I missed a hattrick because of you, and it was pathetic.” 

You whine. 

“Tell me what you need, and maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

Your breath hitches, the words caught in your throat. She knows exactly what she’s doing, how to unravel you piece by piece until you’re begging for her. 

She loves it when you beg. 

“I…” You’re not a stranger to demanding things. You’re not pathetic, you’re not. “You. I need you.” 

“Good girl,” she murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss that sears your skin. Her hand slips lower, teasing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, making you gasp. “But you have to earn it. You can’t afford to make the mistakes you made yesterday again.” 

You’re no longer listening. It’s not what you want to hear.

...

Unwelcome is the word that first springs to mind.

There is a long, mahogany trench table set, looking unnatural with the five places that throw the balance off. As though to emphasise your differences, you are ushered to the head of the table by the housekeeper, your half-brothers hesitating at the open doorway of the dining room, almost afraid to be alone with you. 

You remember being told your mother had given birth by the housemistress at school. She’d offered to see if you could get on a flight home, but no request for your presence had come; the hint had been received loud and clear. 

If they didn’t want you, you didn’t want them. 

But you don’t miss the shirt one of the boys is wearing. 

“Where’d you get that?” you ask curiously, encouraging them to approach with a tight-lipped smile. The one dressed in a Levante shirt looks at the other. 

“It’s his,” they say at the same time. It’s a little creepy. 

“Papa wouldn’t let us get your name, but that’s what we wanted.” 

“You guys like football?” you ask, forcing a casual tone. 

They nod enthusiastically, thumbs poking into their chests as they state their positions and opinionated ranking on the local team. “We get our teammates to watch your highlights. We’re gonna see you at Barça next season!” 

“How do you know I’m going to Barça next season?” you tease. “Because I didn’t even know that.” 

“Papi’s friends with Sr. Laporta, tonta.” Frowning, you grow less amused of the tidbit. Maybe your stepfather feels guilty. Maybe he wants to give your career an unnecessary helping hand. But you’d rather be sent into the Queen’s League than sign because of your connections.

Despite the tension hanging in the air, you lean back in the chair, trying to ease the stiffness in your shoulders. The eyes of your half-brothers flicker between you and the table. You’re a stranger to them, and their apprehension is understandable. It stings, but it isn’t your fault. 

The housekeeper returns, clearing her throat to interrupt the stilted silence. “Dinner will be served shortly,” she announces, her eyes avoiding yours. You scrutinise her, trying to remember whether she was there when you were first sent away. Is she new? “Boys, why don’t you fetch your father from his study?” 

Emboldened by the prospect of their escape, the one in a Levante shirt steps forward. “Can we play after dinner?” 

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts. "Boys, give your sister some space." They are scurrying away in an instant. 

You look up to see your mother standing in the doorway, her expression stern. There's an awkward pause as she takes a seat at the other end of the table, her eyes never meeting yours.

"Good to see you," she says, her tone clipped. You nod, acknowledging her presence without offering a response. “I was surprised to hear you were coming. Have you run out of money?” 

“I have money.” 

"Then why now?" she presses, her eyes still avoiding yours. The question hangs in the air as you take your time to answer it. Past arguments seep into the room, and, despite the large windows and high ceilings, you feel trapped. 

You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "I wanted to see my family," you say, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. 

Your mother's lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you think she might actually say something kind. But instead, she shifts her gaze to the polished surface of the table. "Well, here we are," she says, her tone flat.

...

There is something about the soft way Alexia cares for you that keeps you by her side. She’s not a bad person, and she is sorry when she is mean. You can be worse, so, really whose fault is it? Sometimes you provoke her. 

None of that matters now, though. Not in the airy space after sex and before the world begins to turn again. The sun is beginning to rise now, bathing the room in fresh light that must unsettle your girlfriend. She is trying to calm herself down, lying beside you to regain her strength before she will haul you both up. 

If you hadn’t wanted to train, you should never have spoken this morning. 

Your fingers draw lazy patterns on her stomach, nails grazing up and down tanned skin as you trace out words you cannot bring yourself to say. In this moment, everything feels perfect. You’re not sure whether your mind is still clouded with desire, but you have to close your eyes to stop tears from falling. 

“I love you,” you whisper, voice barely audible. 

“I love you too,” she replies.

It’s easy to say it because it’s true. 

It’s true because Alexia has been there for you like no one else. 

Your whole life has felt like a terminal at an airport. Everyone around you has their own emotions about their own adventures, and the crowd rushes to various gates – various destinations – with urgency you have never sought, nor found. You often stand in the middle of the bustling, bumbling mass of people, head in your hands, wondering why they seem to know where life is taking them. 

When you signed for Barcelona, it was a surprise. You hadn’t believed your little brothers when they had let it slip, and you were certain your worth was going to be exploited in another league – maybe you’d go back to Wolfsburg, maybe you’d explore abroad. Maybe your mother sending you away was a good thing, because it proved that Spain wasn’t your home. 

Sure, you held the passport and spoke the languages, but… but maybe you didn’t belong. 

Then came Alexia, who told you the opposite of what you were starting to live by. 

Alexia – older, wiser, with a clear head on her shoulders and a drive like no other – wanted you to stay, wished you’d see yourself for what was so clearly in front of her eyes. You knew you were talented, but she knew you could be the best. 

Just like she was. 

Because Alexia was aware of the intricacies of ageing, of how experience was not going to be her saviour in the very end. She was focused on a legacy: her brilliance would live on in you. 

She loved you for it. 

She loves you still. 

You can feel her heartbeat, steady and reassuring. Dawn casts shadows across Alexia’s features, hiding the dark circles under her eyes in a bath of dim grey. She smiles, and the tenderness in her gaze is reserved for you, reserved for moments like these. She reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek gently. 

“We should get up,” she murmurs. 

You nod, knowing she’s right. Alexia is always right; you’ve learnt that over the years you have been together. “Just a few more minutes,” you mumble back anyway. 

Hands slide over your waist, pulling you into her body. Her laugh is quiet and giggly, full of love and fondness for a sentence she had predicted you’d say. “Okay,” she agrees. “So we’ll do three hours today, not two. Yeah?” 

...

The dinner doesn’t last very long for you, although that may be because you make it painfully clear you want to leave after the first course. Your stepfather catches on – you question if he had been hoping for this – and jumps at the chance to drive you to a high-end restaurant in central Barcelona that he is sure you will enjoy. 

He knows the chef, he says. He’ll wave money in your face and pretend that it makes these things forgivable. 

You’re hardly arguing though, so there’s not much room for complaint. 

The restaurant welcomes you into the cocktail bar, having awaited your arrival after being enticed by the name of the credit card attached to the tab. Your stepfather is well-known around these parts, and although the notion of a fifth member of his perfect family has been obscured for a long time, there is a shared surname between you and your little brothers that offers you half a place in this small shroud of gente rica. 

Sitting alone at the bar, you order a martini. The glass is cold against your fingertips, and a shiver runs down your spine despite the warmth of the busy restaurant. It’s loud here, with every table full of happy, wealthy patrons who do both business and pleasure all at once, but you feel distant, disconnected. 

You don’t belong here. 

It’s a struggle of yours. 

You never seem to belong anywhere; always an afterthought, always an add-on. 

There is no space that is moulded to fit your body, no path that has been carved out solely for you. (Or, if there is, it is really fucking hard to find.) 

Football is sort of your thing, but the whole nature of professional sport is to fight hard so you don’t get replaced – therefore implying that no one is inherently one-of-a-kind. 

Sometimes, you convince yourself that that isn’t what you want, but that is a lie. Everyone wants to be unique. Everyone wants to be loved for who they are. 

A tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your self-damning thoughts. 

“Are you alone?” 

You turn to find Alexia Putellas standing beside you, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place. It seems she is more surprised to see you here than you are to see her, but she swallows her comment to look you up and down. 

Her scrutiny is intimidating. Maybe that is how you are supposed to feel, maybe that is what she wants. After all, the intensity of the match still lingers in your aching muscles, and seeing her now, out of the context of football kits and harsh tackles, is almost surreal. 

“Alexia, hi,” you say, forcing a smile. 

She repeats her question firmly, concern knitting her brows together. She’s wearing makeup, but you decide she doesn’t need it. 

Alexia is really pretty. You get lost on your way to answer her. 

She places a hand on the same shoulder she tapped, unaware of how your skin sizzles because of her touch, fearing you will run away from her. You have a skittish look about you, she’s noticed, and, for some reason, she wants you to stay put. 

“Come, sit.” Her hand waves in the direction of her table, filled with women around her age who must be her friends. A part of you finds it unfair that Alexia appears to have friends because someone once said sacrifices are the bricks that pave the way to success, but you put it out of mind to deal with politely declining her invitation.

Your hesitation only seems to spur her on, however. 

“You remind me of me, you know.” Your martini glass is empty, and her nose wrinkles with disapproval. 

“I do?” you ask, interested in what similarity she is going to draw between you. 

She holds up two fingers to the bartender, mouthing her order with a small smirk, before looking down at you from where she stands and you sit, inspecting your face. Her fingers gently wrap around your chin, and she tilts your head upwards. “You have that look in your eyes.” 

Laughter rings out from her table, followed quickly by calls for her to return to her meal. She ignores the noise, focused entirely on you. 

Alexia tries to suppress her thoughts of how beautiful you look – how ruggedly captivating, how… enticing – and she is sure she is successful. 

Until you lick your lips and ask her to elaborate. 

She is silent for a moment. 

It’s the first time someone has made you feel like nothing and everything all at once; like the brightest star in the galaxy, like an unused lump of clay. Like you are both wondrous and plain. Exceptional and just like everyone else. 

Alexia’s and… not. 

You are completely at her mercy. 

You agree to join her and her friends for dinner. 

As you approach the table, the group welcomes you with warm smiles and a polite interest in who you are. Alexia’s introduction makes you blush as she details your goal and the success attributed to you at such a young age (she emphasises that part for her own conscience), and it is only a moment before you settle into an empty seat beside her, somehow put at ease. 

The conversation resumes its flow, light and lively, but Alexia is distracted from the discussion of their next holiday. She has questions, many of them, and she figures you are detached from the Catalan they speak in and are silently begging for a language you do understand. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Alexia murmurs in Spanish, leaning in a bit closer. “Figured you’d, you know, be licking your wounds in Valencia.” 

Two drinks are delivered to your table; one for you, one for Alexia. She watches your lips as they part to take a sip, pinching her own thigh when she catches herself. 

“I used to play for Levante,” she continues as you stoically nurse your drink. “When I was younger, Barça sent me off to get some experience. They called me back soon enough.” 

“I never played for Barça.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, more so for your assumption of her assumption than anything else. You notice her expression. You laugh and Alexia finds she’s quite a fan of that sound. “I’m from Barcelona, Alexia. I speak Catalan and everything.” 

“You don’t sound–” 

“My stepfather has a house in Sarrià and told me to fuck off to boarding school when I was younger. So I went to America and I had to do Spanish classes, and ‘cause I’d renounced my family, it was like learning Castellano all over again.” 

“Like a madrileña,” Alexia finishes off, amused. “Boarding school, eh?” 

“Lost my parents, lost my accent. Childhood of dreams,” you respond sarcastically. “I’ve just come from a family dinner, actually. I left after the starter because… well, it fucking sucked seeing my mother pretend–” You hold your tongue, embarrassed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to dump it all on you. The martini’s loosened my lips.” 

Your laugh this time is self-deprecating and a little painful to hear. Alexia shakes her head and is about to encourage you to carry on, when she catches the heat rising to your cheeks and wonders whether that would be for the best. Instead, she thinks you might prefer to hear something else. “How about another drink after you’re done with that?” 

The rest of the night is a blur. 

Alexia is torn between wanting to impress you and wanting to protect you. She doesn’t know which to follow: the reasonable responsibility drilled into her head, captain of Barcelona, captain of Spain… or the pulse between her legs that grows stronger every time her gaze falls to the low-cut top you’re wearing. It’s this desire that must destroy her judgement, and, after you have insisted on paying for the meal with your stepfather’s credit card, Alexia finds herself having to text the younger girls at Barça to see if any of them can come get you. 

Pina’s busy, Cata’s out with her friends, and Jana claims she’s emetophobic. 

Briefly, Alexia wonders if she imagined you being friends with any of them, but, at the end of the day (or beginning – as it is rapidly approaching tomorrow), she really does have to take you somewhere. She won’t let your half-catatonic body lie on the streets of Barcelona, and so she hauls you into a taxi and waves goodbye to her friends. 

“Interesting recruitment method for the B team,” jokes one of them as they disperse. “Wait, sorry. You waxed lyrical about her tonight enough for me to know that she’d be on the first team with you.” 

“Her contract must be in the works,” Alexia agrees, choosing to ignore the saccharine tone such a compliment was voiced with. “I swear, she’s going to be the best.” 

You’re not paying attention to any of this, of course, too busy pressing your hand against the glass of the taxi’s window, giggling every time you imprint the shape of your palm. “Alexia!” you call out, wanting her to share your enjoyment. “Alexia, look!” 

She turns to look at you, her stern expression softening when she sees how your eyes have lit up. She can’t help but smile at the innocence of your little game, and if the taxi driver raises his eyebrows in the rearview mirror, Alexia chooses not to notice. 

“Very impressive,” she says, cringing at how she sounds like she is soothing a child. You seem even younger now, especially when your ears perk up as she speaks in Catalan, a picture of something you confessed to have lost years ago. 

It’s a horrible conflict to have brewing inside of her, and she shakes her head, trying to clear it. Her composure becomes harder to maintain with you being pressed up against her in the backseat, but all thoughts she has are thrown into a deep, dark ditch that she decides to deal with at a later date. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice slurred and eyes wide with curiosity.

“My place,” comes the simple reply. It’s the only option left. She knows she can make sure you’re safe, and, besides, the idea of you at her place feels comforting, as though it were not supposed to be any other way.

When the taxi finally pulls up outside her apartment building, Alexia pays the driver and helps you out of the car. You falter like a newborn foal learning to walk, and she encourages you to lean heavily on her so that the journey inside will be quicker. The walk to her door feels longer, and each step is tentative as she continues to debate her decision. 

But she’s going to care for you. That’s all. 

You marvel at her apartment, which shocks her after she has learnt about your childhood, but she takes the compliment and guides you to her bedroom under the guise of giving you a ‘tour’. The spare bedroom is unusable, seeing as the bed has become the latest storage cupboard for her boxes of awards and PR packages, so, again, this is the only option. 

You collapse unceremoniously onto her mattress with a loud sigh. 

Alexia stands there for a moment, watching as you settle into her bed. As much as responsibility and protectiveness hangs over her head, she also feels something much deeper inside of her beginning to swirl into a storm. She’s not ready to acknowledge it yet. 

Taking a deep breath, she glances at you once more. “You need to rest.” Her voice carries the authority of the woman she is; a woman who is much older and wiser and who has more power than ethical to be feeling any kind of attraction towards you. Her hand hovers over you, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. The warmth of your skin under her fingertips sends a jolt through her, but she quickly pulls her hand back, focusing on her current task.

“Thanks, Alexia,” you mumble, already half-asleep. 

After that close-call, she rights herself, looking around her room for a moment before heading to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water. She places it on the bedside table, knowing you'll need it in the morning, not wanting to wake you up to drink it now. She then finds a spare blanket and a pillow, setting up a makeshift bed for herself on the sofa in the living room.

Exhausted from the day, she expects to fall asleep quickly, but she is tortured by the same question, over and over again. 

How the fuck did she get here? 

[kykyonthemoon]

How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter

By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb

ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.

ಇ. Word count: 4k3

ಇ. Requested by Krys.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 

"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."

The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.

The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:

“Now you are mine.”

The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:

“Please stop.”

Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.

"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."

Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.

"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.

"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."

Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip. 

“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game. 

"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.” 

"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”

Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?

“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”

The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.

Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.

Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.

Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.

"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"

You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.

“You… What are you doing?”

“Is that how you speak to a princess?”

You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.

“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”

"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."

He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"

"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”

Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:

“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”

Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:

“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."

But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.

“Is that all?”

"Huh?" 

“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”

Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”

Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.

“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.” 

You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.

“Entertain me then. Would you?”

Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear. 

“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”

Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging. 

“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”

At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 

Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.

He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.

Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes. 

Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.

“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”

“Oh, my Lumiere…”

A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him. 

In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.

“This… is mine!” 

You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.

"You… Why have you read my book?"

"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.

"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"

"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"

You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.

His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.

"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.

“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking. 

“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended. 

“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”

Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.

“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."

You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.

“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."

“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.

“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”

Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:

“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”

A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:

“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”

Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf. 

“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"

Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.

“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”

Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner. 

When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.

Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands. 

“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”

He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.

Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.

He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.

“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.

“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”

"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”

You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.

“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.

“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”

Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.

Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”

A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"

Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.

“Yes. Hello."

"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal. 

Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:

“I also want to refer to some things from there.”

You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”

Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away. 

"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."

“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”

You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.

Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.

“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”

“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"

You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.

Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.

Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.

“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."

You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.

“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.” 

You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.

“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”

As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"

Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."

“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 

During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.

While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:

“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”

“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”

You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.

“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”

You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”

“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."

“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"

You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”

He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.

"No way! This… You can't read it!”

Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away. 

“I said, you can't read it!”

The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.

He knew. 

He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.

A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.

In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.

“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”

“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”

You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat. 

“So you like romantic stories… like this?”

You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.

When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.

That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.

You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.

Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.

“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.

During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something. 

Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.

“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.

Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."

You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.

You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.

"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.

“Pip-squeak, don't go.”

You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.

“Do you still read that story?”

Your head shook slightly as an answer.

"How come? Why did you stop?"

“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"

Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.

“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”

He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.

“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.

“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”

He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in. 

At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him. 

If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.

“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Just a little bit where Bucky would give you everything you want.

Pairing -> Sugar!Daddy!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x SugarBaby!Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, fingering, talking about sugar daddy

A/N -> @lanabuckybarnes because you liked it so yeah.😂😂

“Anything you want, doll? You know I can buy you whatever you want,” Bucky grins at you, his hand gently placed on your lower back. You turn your head toward him, smirking when you nod.

When you first met him, you never thought they the relationship between you two could be that perfect. Bucky picked you up when you had nothing, no money, shit job and apartment — when you were broken after your last boyfriend. He took you home with him, gave you food, a bed, clothes, everything you ever dreamed of. And it slowly went from strangers into friends and he offered you to be your sugar daddy.

First you wasn’t sure about it, but he said he isn’t looking for sex unless you want it to. He wants some company during his dinners with co-workers or just someone who watched movies with him or plays games, nothing much and you could get everything you want.

So you said yes, and Bucky learned to read you like a book, you didn’t even need to say anything and he already knew what you would like to have. You never asked for much, and even though Bucky assured you that you can have everything, you didn’t need more.

With every passing day you both came closer, the movie nights were more often, the cuddles more intimate and the talks more serious. You forgot about every shit you went through because of your ex-boyfriend.

Bucky made you smile in the highs and the lows and that never changed, not even know, not even right now when you were walking along the aisle, never! He loves you and he care about you, knowing every feeling you have just from looking into your eyes and you can do the same.

“I would love to spent the night with you, just with you, on the sea. Just we and the stars, the moon and nothing else,” you admit and Bucky chuckles softly. He thought you would ask for something expensive, but you never did, that’s probably the reason he fell for you.

Of course you asked him to get things which would cost some money, but you appreciated the time with him, and the moments when you’re just going for a walk or being on the boat on the sea so much more than everything he could buy you.

“Everything you want, pretty girl.” Bucky wraps his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you flat against his muscular front and inhaling your sweet scent. He then kisses along your neck, smirking when you giggle and squirm softly in his embrace. “Everything! I love you, so much.

“I love you too, and being with you is everything I can only dream of,” you say back, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

“Luckily it’s not just a dream. And I can show you that’s definitely not a dream,” he says, his hand sliding down your front and into your panties, causing you to moan when his fingers slide thought your already wet folds. “So perfect, already so wet and ready for me, doll.”

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[the-californicationist]

Pas de Deux

For @glitterypirateduck's May 2024 Ghost challenge (item #100)!

I don't write Ghost, but I love Duck too much to pass it up. <3

You invited your brother, Kyle, to come and watch your performance as Odette in Swan Lake. He makes it to the theatre, but he brings his friends. That's when you fall head over heels for Simon Riley.

You’d begged your brother to come to your final performance. You needed him there, needed to feel him in the crowd, even if you couldn’t see him out there. Kyle promised he would be there, and as you went through your pre-show routine, you hoped he would be true to his word. 

You knew it was difficult for him to get away from work. You’d left him with four tickets, asking him to invite his mates, if that would make it easier. You remember seeing his soft smile as he fanned out the bright gold tickets, inwardly laughing at you for not understanding the contrast between your world and his as he commented,

“These blokes aren’t really keen on ballets, Duck.”

He’d always called you by that stupid nickname. Well, the longer version had been his favorite as a teenage boy: the Ugly Duckling. But, it was fine. You’d called him Vile instead of Kyle most of his life, so you felt like it was an even score. 

“It’s important to me,” you’d insisted. 

“I know,” he nodded, conceding, “I’ll try.”

So, as the lights were warming up and you were applying your third layer of powder, praying for a smooth night, your heart stretched itself out, begging not to be broken, the whining strings of the cellos and violins in the pit below your feet made the sounds that your heartstrings were feeling — too quiet, too off-key. 

“Hey, babe,” one of your fellow dancers hissed at you from behind the backstage door, “Why didn’t you tell us you had a hot brother with a bunch of hot friends?”

“What?” You asked, confused, shaken out of your mental focus.

Then, over her shoulder, you saw Kyle’s face. He beamed at you, giving you a little wave. You leapt up from the floor where you were stretching, not yet in full costume, wrapping yourself in a warm wool sweater, rushing to greet him.

“You came!” You smiled up at him, wrapping him in a big hug. He hugged you back, full of his immense strength. You stood back to get a better look at him. He was all dressed up, and you couldn’t believe it. Someone behind him cleared their throat, getting your attention. 

“Oh, right. Duck, these are my mates,” he pointed them out one by one, “Johnny MacTavish, John Price, and Simon Riley.”

When he pointed to the last one, you felt your breath catch in your throat. It felt as if he was the one who caught it. He was a tower of a man, and his broad, muscular shoulders dwarfed his big friends, making the dancers who were rushing by him back and forth to the stage seem so small. Unlike the other two, his face didn’t light up in a warm smile. His bright eyes simply took you in, drinking you like a long draught, swallowing every piece of you. He studied your makeup, your neck and your shoulders, all the way down your legs, scanning you like he would be given an exam. 

“Nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming, seriously. I’ve been trying to get Kyle to show up for months.”

The stocky man with the beard smiled back at you warmly, 

“We love a good ballet, don’t we, lads?”

You didn’t miss the way his elbow jutted out to stab Simon in the ribs, prompting him to speak. 

When he did, his voice was quiet, and although he had a thick Manc accent, his tone was controlled, measured, even, 

“Aye. Big fans.”

“Oh, well,” you couldn’t stop staring at Simon, so you pinned your eyes to the floor instead, “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Drinks after, yeah?” Kyle said, rubbing your arm supportively.

You nodded, watching them head back to the main auditorium. 

A few friends, dancers and stagehands alike, rushed up to you as they left, gushing about how attractive they all were. 

“Who was that bloody blond giant? Dressed in all black. He was lookin’ at you like he was hungry.”

“I want the Scot with the mohawk. I’m not takin’ no for an answer, girlie. Oh, my God. Did you see his kilt?”

“Your brother is so damn fit! What the fuck, babes?”

“I liked the scruffy one the best. Bet that beard feels good between —”

“Okay! It’s almost showtime. Let’s circle up,” you escaped from the prop room, scurrying back onto the main stage, trying to get your head back in the game. 

You went through your warmups with your dancers, and you let your costumers fit you into your opening dress. You needed to think about your work, but you couldn’t get Simon’s sharp gaze out of your mind. He did, in fact, look hungry, and the way his eyes raked over you made you feel every bit like a hot meal. 

As the music began, your mind went blank, blissfully quiet and clear. Your muscle memory took over, and you powered through the motions, enjoying the feeling of your blood rushing through your veins. You trusted yourself to get you through the first act, hitting all of your marks and expecting nothing less than perfection. 

It wasn’t until you put on the black mask for Odile’s dance with the prince that you began to lose your concentration. There was a wildness that took over you when you played the black swan, a ferocity that your studio director gushed about to the press and to anyone else who cared to listen. 

“She’s like an animal! It’s to die for. You must come and see her on stage. It will change this ballet forever!” 

You weren’t sure you appreciated being referred to as an animal, but you had to admit that there was something beastial about your transformation. The mask made you feel like you were a new person. It gave you the ability to become someone else, something else. You were sexual and aggressive, dominant and fearsome. It was just what Odile needed, and you delivered. 

Except, when you put the mask on tonight, you caught a glimpse of him from backstage. He was sitting in the box that you had bought for your brother, and one of the spotlights’ films had lit his cheek. It was a soft light, but it was enough. As you took your first steps on stage, you couldn’t help but look up towards him, and the flash of hunger in his eyes was still there. So, you decided to give him your animalistic side. 

You’d never danced the way you danced that night. The crowd was roaring, and your costar whispered to you,

“Go off, queen. What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered back, lying through your teeth. 

By the time you left the stage, daring to look back over your shoulder, Simon hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for one moment, and his nostrils flared, breathing deeply, trying to calm himself from your display. 

Before you knew it, the curtains closed, and you were bowing, dodging thrown roses and teddy bears, elegantly taking your leave. Your body was dripping sweat, and you rushed over to your bag, scarfing down some power gels and cracking open a nutrition bar, hurrying to bring your body back to normal after its ordeal. You’d be expected to pose for some VIP photos in just a few minutes, so you touched up your makeup, but there was only so much you could do. 

“My star!” Your director burst through the back door, “Beautiful! You were incredible tonight. Bring your masks. I have some people who want to meet you.”

You nodded, scooping up your masks and giving your bag to one of the other dancers to take back to the barre room. 

You schmoozed for a bit, but something itched at the back of your mind. You felt like you were being watched. Then, just while you were taking a photo with someone’s eager six-year-old, you spotted him. Simon stood behind Kyle, staring at you without shame while the other men laughed and joked with a gaggle of dancers. They had swarmed them, fluttering about, insisting to be invited for drinks, and Kyle was eating it up. You didn’t care, though. There was only one thing you wanted — aside from a hot bath and your comfy bed — and that was to enjoy those things with Simon Riley, if he agreed. 

“Excuse me, Madame Savoie. I’m exhausted, and my brother is in town. May I take my leave for the night?”

“Of course!” Your director beamed at you, “After that performance, you can take whatever you want.”

She laughed. Her rich friends laughed. You didn’t, but you managed a smile. 

You made your way through the crowd over to Kyle and broke the news, 

“Kyle, I’m not going to make it to the pub. I’m beat. I think I’ll just walk home.”

“You can’t walk home by yourself, Duckie. You live in bloody Soho.”

“I’ll be alright. I’ll just —”

“I’ll take her,” that Manc accent oozed its way through the din, and almost everyone turned to look at Simon as he offered his services. 

Kyle made a face at you, his arms wrapped around two dancers, one on each side, and he shrugged, 

“Alright, Duck. Tomorrow for breakfast, though. No excuses.” 

You watched as your brother untangled his right arm from one of your swans, and stuck out his hand for Simon to shake. You saw Simon pause, making clear eye contact with your brother, and extending his wide, pale hand. 

You weren’t exactly sure what weird sort of ritual you were witnessing, but it seemed like the two men had an entire conversation in just that short span. Then, Simon’s attention was turned fully back to you. 

“C’mon, then. I just need to get my bag.”

He didn’t say anything, but he did hold the door for you, and his huge stature did help part the crowd like some sort of biblical sea, making sure you had easy access to the exits. 

The barre room was a bright, white open space, and the wooden floors popped and creaked as you walked across them. 

Your impromptu bodyguard followed close behind, but he paused near the door when he was presented with the huge room.

“I’d hate to meet that ballerina,” he chuckled. 

You turned around, confused by his comment, 

“Which one?”

“The one who hit her head on the ceiling to make them build it this bloody high.”

You looked up to where he was pointing, laughing at his odd joke,

“It’s for the piano,” you explained. 

“That’s even scarier,” he grimaced, staring up at the high ceiling as if pianos would start falling from it. 

You laughed harder, then, imagining a flying baby grand. 

“No! No,” you caught your breath, “The sound. It helps us hear the music.”

“Ahh,” he nodded knowingly, conceding to you, “I see. That makes me feel safer.”

You knelt down and started to pack your back, changing your shoes and slipping out of your outer costume, laying the pieces out like you had been trained to do.

“So, which one do you like better?”

“Hm?” You looked up at him, and he bent his knees to squat down in front of you, plucking your white swan mask out of your bag and touching the fine silk bow with his thumb. 

“Which swan?” He asked, his eyes staring at you carefully. You got the sense that your answer really mattered to him.

“Well,” you said carefully, “Every girl wants to be Odette. She’s the star. It’s her story. And she gets to fall in love with a prince. But… once you play Odile, I think you realize that there’s… well, there’s something to be said for falling in love with yourself, too.”

You smiled, grabbing your black mask by the nose and holding it up to your eyes, glaring at him to make your point. 

“Same person on the inside, though,” he commented, looking down at the white mask in his hand. 

You stood up, and you grabbed his hand to help him up, 

“C’mere. I’ll show you.”

“You’re not going to find a tutu that fits me, love.”

“No tutus for you, I promise. Just… stand here. Like that. Put your hand out like this. Good.”

Once he was in position, you grabbed the white mask from him and tied it around your face, willing your sore body back into position. 

“This is Odette,” you said, making your hands and feet flutter to life. You spun into his hand, letting him feel the weightlessness of your body as you moved against him, the soft silken rustle of your leotard against his huge, callused hand. Eventually, you came to rest facing away from him, your thigh brushing his hip in a long, extended arabesque. His hand never moved from your waist, and you leaned into it, letting him balance you, his palm warm against your belly through the thin fabric. 

“And this…” you replaced the white mask with the black one, changing yourself for him, metamorphosing right before his eyes, “...is Odile.”

This time, you challenged him, making him feel your muscles and bones with each spin, pushing against him like a threat. You could feel his uncertainty, but he naturally steeled himself, grabbing you with more power, trying to harness your energy. But, you knew he couldn’t. He didn’t know what do to. All he could do was stand there and feel you as you moved against him, aggressive and virulent. 

As Odile, your final arabesque pressed into him lustfully, translating that fiery rage, your thigh slammed flush with his body, your hips forcing his hand to grip you to keep you from pushing him backwards. 

Then, you stepped away, removing the mask and doing a little bow for effect. 

“I see,” he murmured, seemingly unphased. But, even though he tried to hide it, his slight adjustment in his black dress pants did not slip by you. He stalked closer to you, closing the space that you had opened. His thumb came up to rub your cheek, right at the edge of the black mask, “Does the mask help?”

You dropped your volume to match his, still catching your breath a bit from the turns, 

“Yeah, it reminds me that I can be someone I’m not.”

“Or maybe you can finally be someone you are,” his thumb traced your smooth skin down to your mouth where your lipstick stains and cracked powder were surely a right mess. But, he didn’t care. He pressed the pad of his finger to your bottom lip anyway, moving so carefully and deliberately you felt like you were under his spell. 

“Maybe.” 

“Hm,” he said noncommittally, backing away from you, releasing you from his invisible hold. 

You finished packing, and you made your way into the dark night with him, walking quickly to get out of the spitting rain. He kept his arm around you, wrapping you in his warmth, shielding you from passersby. 

Your mind was racing. You had taken this stranger home with you, no questions asked. It was a risk that you just didn’t take. When was the last time you even had a bloke in your flat, much less one that you desperately wanted to snog? At least you had cleaned yesterday. It was too small of a place not to pick up at least a little bit each day. There was no room for you to be messy. 

“This is me,” you jingled your keys and pointed up to the tall, modern apartment building, gleaming in glass and steel amidst the historical Soho houses and businesses. 

Every floor was the same. It was all modern and white, almost sterile. You felt like you lived in a museum. 

“Mm, posh,” he commented, a little disgruntled. 

“Free,” you rolled your eyes, “The ballet company houses all of us here.”

“Why can’t my free accommodations ever look this good?”

You cracked open the door to your flat and let him inside. Your cat, Mustard, immediately began her figure-eight dance between his legs, her favorite hello to every person who dared enter her domain. 

“What do your accommodations usually look like, then?” You asked, pouring out some kibble for the cat and hanging your bag on its hook.

“Usually a tent, sometimes a cave. They even gave us a house once, no windows in it, but hey. You win some, you lose some.”

“I worry about Kyle, you know. You lads don’t have an easy job.”

“He’ll be alright. He’s a good one.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, staring up into Simon’s eyes, then you remembered your manners, “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m alright,” he smiled back, turning his head to look around your flat. 

You gave him the short tour,

“Bathroom’s in there, and here’s my bedroom slash office slash den… Only enough room for the bed, really. I’m not here very much.”

“And…” He spoke slowly, carefully, no joviality in his tone this time, “Is it alright that I’m here, love?”

He eyed you cautiously, moving toward you, towering over your small frame, his hulking shoulders curling in on you, casting dark shadows across your vision, keeping you from the light. 

You peered up at him, ignoring his question,

“Do you want to shower with me? I’d fucking murder someone for a hot shower.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, bending forward so that he could press his soft lips to your mouth, kissing you as gently as you’d ever been kissed. But, you could tell, just by the way he moved his jaw, letting his tongue lazily trace your bottom lip, there was so much more fervor under his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Right now, he was Odette, on his best behavior. 

But, you wanted to see his Black Swan. Where was the beast that you knew must lurk within?

He pulled away from you, smiling a bit, and you giggled softly, dragging him along by his wrist, ducking into your spacious bathroom. It was the one thing you loved about this place. There was no living room to speak of, but damn if the bathroom wasn’t perfect. The huge glass shower was enough for a party of four, and the dual shower heads made you feel like some sort of royalty. You couldn’t wait to let your muscles soak under the cascade. Maybe tall, blond and handsome could put those strong hands of his to work and rub you down. 

You stood in the mirror together, looking at each other, and you started to undress. He twisted a finger under the collar of your sweater until he could feel your skin. Then, he slipped it off of your shoulder. You dropped your arm, letting it slide to the floor. Then, as slowly as he could, you watched as he writhed his finger under your leotard’s strap, pulling it down your arm. When it got to be too taut, you helped him, removing your arms and rolling the soft nylon down your aching body. 

Your wig was still on, but you weren’t about to wear it to bed, so you took it off in front of him, running your fingers through your short curls, letting your close-cut fingernails scratch your scalp.

Now, as you stood in the low light of your bathroom mirror, you were naked in front of him, standing with your back to him, covering your breasts in the mirror. Simon bent his head down so he could kiss your neck, and you felt him wrap a big hand around the nape of your neck, holding you in place. His kisses felt hot, and they were deeper than before, more hungry, pressing into you with more power. 

You sighed, enjoying his mouth as it worked on you, but well-aware of just how caked on the sweat and the makeup were after a show, making excuses for yourself,

“I’m sweaty,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled, sticking out his fat, pink tongue and licking his way up to your ear, just to make his point. 

He wrapped his arms around you, retreating for a moment, looking at you in the mirror. Then, when he saw you covering yourself, he gently pushed your arms away, making you reveal your bare breasts to him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised you, kissing your scalp chastely. 

You turned your back to the looking glass to face him, and you tangled your fingers between the buttons of his dress shirt. You weren’t in any hurry to peel him apart, but as you did, you saw more and more evidence of his hard life. His enormous muscles were inked with old tattoos, war scenes etched into his creamy flesh in black and gray. But, carved across his skin were tens of deep, jagged scars, standing as proof of the cruelty he’d endured. 

You let your mouth fall to his chest, kissing him indiscriminately, licking when you wanted to, nibbling when you wanted to, giving in to your hedonism fully. 

He untucked his shirt for you, peeling it off of his shoulders, and you watched as his muscles rippled and bent around his bones, stretching under his will. You worked on his belt, and he watched you take him apart, both of your heads craned down, staring at your hands as you freed him from his trousers. The zipper fell smoothly, and all that was left were his boxer briefs, underneath which hung a very girthy cock. 

You touched him through the fabric, and he let out a shuddering sigh of relief. 

“You’re a big man, Mr. Riley,” you teased, playing with his head through the thin fabric, meeting his gaze and finding him fully unraveled. His eyes were hooded and lustful, and it made you wonder how he liked to be touched so you could keep him like this, under your spell.

He tucked his thumbs in his pants and pulled them down, bare with you, and he held your body flush to his in a warm hug. You could feel his cock trapped between you, wet and warm on your belly, and his big hands came down to grab two handfuls of your ass, prying you apart so that the cold air of the room would hit your pussy and tell you how wet you were, enjoying the feel of your meat between his fingers. 

“Good thing you’ve got a bloody big shower, love. Might actually be able to stand under the tap, me. Can’t believe it.”

You watched him step into the large glass box and turn on the stream, the heat making him sigh. You joined him, jealous of the feeling, and let your own shower head beat your muscles into submission. 

You hissed in pain and he heard it, snapping his attention to you like a dog with a bone.

“What is it?”

“Sore. End of the week is hard.”

He poured some of your soap into his hand, way too much, but you didn’t correct him, and he commented as he bathed you,

“I read about it before we came, you know. Read about the story. About what you have to do to be the star. Hard work, that.”

“There are harder things,” You said in a low voice, tracing a particularly suspicious-looking wound in the shape of a bullet on his right hip.  

“Not many. Turn around,” he commanded. You were pleasantly surprised how much you liked it when he took control. 

Here, in the warm nest of the shower, you gave him your weakness and let him take care of you. He massaged your shoulders and your back unprompted, rubbing slick suds all over your skin, and he washed your hair. You moisturized on your own, letting him smell all of your tonics and potions, washing your face as he fondled your ass again, enjoying you fully. 

You felt like time had stopped. 

You washed him, letting your hands roam, caring for him as he had cared for you, and when you were both clean, you couldn’t help but linger on each other a bit. He reached between your legs and explored you for a moment, swiping his huge finger through your curls. When he found your warmth, so different from the steam of the shower, and a different wetness, too, he sighed. 

“Is it alright if I stay the night?” He asked. 

It surprised you. You assumed that getting naked and showering in front of a man who would be immediately boxed up and shipped back to Khandor on the next flight out would have stayed without asking. He would have assumed that his presence was his invitation. 

You nodded, 

“Please stay, Simon.”

He touched your breast, plucking at your nipple softly, seeming like he was uncertain despite your answer. You pried,

“Are you worried about Kyle? Did he say something —”

“No,” Simon smiled, “He knows you’re a big girl. It’s just been awhile… for me.”

“If you want to go…” You let your hands spread wide across his chest, purposely avoiding his cock, not wanting to sway him in a covinous way. 

He shook his head,

“No. I just want you to be sure. I can’t… We leave again, and I can’t make promises.”

“No promises. I know what you do. I know who you are because I know who Kyle is. You aren’t misleading me here, Simon. But, if you don’t take me to bed, I might lose my bloody mind.”

The smile that spread across his face then was a true one. It couldn’t hide. It squeezed his cheeks up into his eyes and wrinkled their edges like a paper fan. His full lips pulled tight across those white teeth, his incisors long like fangs and just as sharp. And he blushed, that pale skin giving away his feelings to you. 

He kissed your forehead and turned off the taps, retrieving two towels and bundling you in one, on your way back to bed, you snatched your lotion and started to put it on in a half-assed way, hurrying for his benefit. 

“Hey, stealin’ my duties?”

Simon plucked the lotion out of your head and nodded to the bed. You lay down for him, waiting for what he had in store. He pumped the lotion into his hand, less this time, you noticed, and began at your thighs. His wide palms rubbed and massaged you until he had covered you, paying attention to your hands and feet, before commanding you again:

“Flip over, love.”

You gladly did, sighing and moaning shamelessly as he rubbed lotion all over your back and legs. When he got to your round, plump ass, he took more of his time. 

“Watchin’ you move up there on that stage, tryin’ to seduce the bloody prince, fuck… it made me feel like you were dancing for me. The way you move… your body… I’ve never seen anythin’ like it.”

“I was,” you confessed. 

“What?” He stopped massaging you, putting the lotion on your table and crawling into the bed with you. 

You waited until you were under the covers with your head firmly planted on his chest before admitting it to him, 

“I was dancing for you tonight. When I saw you with my brother… you were all I could think about. I could see you in the box, when I was Odile, and I wanted you to look at me.”

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

You weren’t sure who kissed who, but you were now trapped within each other, sucking at each others’ mouths, moaning and writhing in each others’ arms. Snogging like you were dying. 

His cock was already hard, but you felt its smooth, silky body pressing and throbbing against your belly as he held you close, hungry for your wet hole, eager to be the one to fill it. 

You let your hand fall between you, jerking him off, rubbing slick circles around his head until he had to break your kiss to cry out for you. You raised your leg over his hip and moved to put him inside you, but he shook his head and started chanting in short, breathless whispers,

“Wait, wait, wait…”

Then, he disappeared, leaving you at the top of the duvet alone, licking and sucking his way down your body until he reached your pussy. As he began to eat you, he also spread you apart. You’d never felt so exposed before, but he wanted to lick your petals, slurping them into his mouth like the lobes of a sweet orange, one by one devouring you in your sensitive state. 

Your hands scratched at his scalp, which he seemed to enjoy. You watched his eyes flutter with pleasure after a particularly vigorous passthrough. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Gimme that come, baby,” he growled, gently circling your entrance with two thick fingers before fitting them into you with a wet, slick sound. 

“Oh!” You called out, staring down at him as he planted his mouth over your clit, suckling at its swollen body, razing your nerves to ashes. 

It didn’t take long before he had you coming for him, and when he felt you tense up beneath his hands, that true smile was back. He sat up on his knees and helped you come back down, slowing his movements just enough to calm your breathing, but keeping you precariously balanced on the edge where he wanted you. 

“Turn over on your belly, love.”

For some reason, it made you feel incredibly vulnerable to have him behind you, and your body shivered from the tension. He noticed, and he lay himself over you, soothing you, whispering right into your ear,

“I’ve got you, love. You wanna stop, we’ll stop. No problem. That clear?”

You nodded your head, and he met your eyes, making damn sure. Then, satisfied, you heard him digging around in his discarded dress pants, the crinkle of the foil condom, and then the slick roll of the barrier slipping over his head. 

“Thank fuck for condoms,” he laughed, “Might give me a chance to last more than a few minutes in this pretty fuckin’ cunt.”

You laughed with him, shrugging,

“You come, we try again. I’m not bothered.”

“Mm,” he nuzzled your ear, laying his body over yours and letting you feel his weight. His cockhead was tickling your entrance, but he didn’t go any further, saying, “This must be my white swan I have beneath me. Sweet on me, huh?”

“Mmhm,” you nodded, reeling from the sensation of his tip rolling around your hole’s entrance, desperately grinding for more. 

“What would the black swan say to me, huh?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his eyes, and just like you had in the barre room, you showed him your other side. When he saw the flash in your eyes of your wildness, he knew he’d gotten his wish. You shoved your hips down, spearing yourself onto him before he was ready for you, making him gasp as your pussy slaked over the first few inches of his cock. 

“Give me your cock, Simon.”

He recovered, biting his lip and thrusting into you, stuffing himself inside of you deeper and deeper, 

“There she is. My girl…”

The power that he used to fuck you was beyond anything that any other man had dared give you. You didn’t know this was a possibility. Your whole body was trapped beneath him, being kissed and crushed and fucked into a wet, submissive mess. His arms were planted beside you, pinning you in, and honestly, you had never felt so safe. 

You could smell your coconut body wash on him, mixing with whatever it was that made him a man, musky and dark, a hint of his Camel Blues. You wanted to bathe in him, just as he had washed you with his hands. Instead of soap, you wanted it to be him, smearing himself all over you, caking you in his essence. 

“Fuck, you are so tight. Squeezin’ me. Fuck…”

He was off of you in a flash, and before you knew it, he’d flipped you over. He spread open your legs and played with you for a moment, trying to stop himself from coming. His cock was in his other hand like a vice, and you watched him struggle with no small sense of pride. 

You decided it was your turn to lead this dance, and you sat up, kissing him full on the mouth, letting your tongue loll against his, sensuous and warm. Then, you wrapped your knees around him and shoved him back toward the foot of the bed, riding him down. When you caught your balance, you reached behind you to feed him into your pussy again, pressing into him with your weight. 

“Wait! Oh, fuckin’ hell.”

Simon’s hands went to your hips and then immediately to cover his mouth, stopping himself from gasping from the sensation. You ignored him, bucking against his huge cock, discovering you could take him even deeper. As you began to grind against him, you let your hands play in your folds, vibrating your clit and driving yourself wild. Your other hand went to his balls, rolling them gently in your hands behind your back.

“Ungh… You are gonna make me come, love.”

As soon as you heard his confession, you released him from your hand and paused at the top of your thrust, hovering on his tip in midair, teasing him ruthlessly. 

“Oh… you —” Simon never finished his sentence because he grabbed you around your hips and dropped you back to the bed, prowling over you and huffing like a stuck bull. You were laughing in gasping breaths from the shock of his strength, and you almost missed the moment when he began to press his swollen rod back inside of you, spearing you mercilessly. 

You whimpered, wrapping your hands around his neck like a lifeline.

“Mmm,” he purred proudly, “She needs me, now. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, letting him kiss you languidly with soft, pliant lips.

“Needs me like this, huh? Tell me.”

“I need you, Si—”

“Tell. Me.”

“I need you so bad! Please, please… fuck me like this. Fuck —”

He covered your mouth with his own and chased down your orgasm like a thief, watching as your eyes got wide, pulling away so he could hear you keen. 

“Yes, yes, yes…” He chanted in your face, not moving away for a second, unwilling to miss even one moment of it. 

“Simon…” You whined, feeling the shock of your release and the afterburn of your pleasure as it flooded through your core, messy and salacious. 

“Feel so good, baby,” he was barely speaking above a whisper, sounding like he was drunk, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“You gonna come in me?”

Hope and bliss flashed across his face, and he kissed you again, pressing his nose right beside your nose and muttering into your mouth, 

“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

As he came, he held his breath, locked, frozen in time, his eyes wrenched shut and his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You held his head in your arms, keeping him close to you, keeping him safe like he had kept you.

When he finally took a breath, it was ragged and gravelly. He panted like a tired hound, sucking in air and leaning against you to recover. For a while, you just lay together, his big body draped over yours, healing in you, using your wet come as a salve. 

Then, he slipped away, leaving you bereft at the loss. 

He pulled you into his arms, making sure you were covered and warm in your bed, finding your eyes and kissing your cheek, wordlessly thanking you for what he had done to you.

“Do you want me to go?” He whispered, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t face the answer.

“Please, stay. Don’t leave me, Simon. Not yet.”

“C’mere,” he sighed, curling his body around yours, securing you in his arms, breathing with you until you both tumbled into a deep, dark sleep.

AO3 Link

[cobaltperun]

Genius (8) - R U Mine

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 2.5k

-And I can't help myself all I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"-

She really should have started writing her assignment, just so she could get it over with as soon as possible, but somehow, she just wanted to stay right where she was right now. In her bedroom, lying on her bed, engulfed in warm, soft blankets and your arms around her waist as she snuggled with you. It’s been a while since she relaxed like this, now, she wasn’t a morning person, but she rarely spent her free mornings in bed.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked her softly and kissed the top of her head. She straddled you and sat up with a teasing smirk on her face.

“How dare you be so gentle now? After you rocked my world last night?” she poked your chest jokingly.

You pressed a finger on your chin and looked up, acting as if you were in deep thought, the entire act completed with a soft hum. “Good point, good point, I don’t think you minded it thought,” you grinned, way too happy with what you did to her and for a moment she wondered how quickly could she get you hard and just leave you hanging.

Eh, that was a bit too cruel. Besides, you were right, though she wouldn’t admit it right now. In the throes of passion, yeah, absolutely, now that she was just cuddling with you, no, no way in hell would she admit how much you affected her.

“I’ll never say it,” she teased you, leaning down to kiss you.

You wouldn’t open your mouth for her though, and instead cupped her cheek and went for a more gentle, innocent kiss.

“I have your letter, it’s all the proof I need,” you laughed and well, she did confess how much she wanted you in the letter.

“I’ll burn it,” Cairo countered, not yet ready to admit her loss.

“You read it to me, I won’t forget it,” you had a point there, she had to admit that.

Well, she still had a way out, at least she hoped. “I’ll fill your brain with so many even dirtier thoughts you’ll have to forget it,” she whispered it in your ear, enjoying how sharply you inhaled at that.

Your pupils dilated as you looked her in her eyes, and she was sure her own eyes weren’t any less filled with desire and love she felt right now. She wasn’t ready to say it to you, that what she felt went above and beyond high school love, that she felt the madman’s love, and that she knew her feelings were returned. She felt it yesterday, she felt it as you took her, as the two of you burnt up in your emotions, all the desire and lust and need. She found it in you, the ruins of a friendship being rebuilt into the love that felt so right, that felt as if it was tailor-made just for her.

Maybe it was.

“Cairo,” her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly and she wanted to hear you say it more, she wanted to hear you say it ten years from now, twenty years from now, fifty years from now, with that same intensity and love in your voice. “What was on your mind?” you demanded, and she was at a loss on what to tell you.

“Us, this morning, yesterday, so many things at once. I just feel happy, I feel loved for the first time in a long time, maybe in my entire life,” she pressed her finger on your lips when you tried to speak up. “You asked why I pushed you away when we were kids, well,” she paused, moving from your lap and lying back down next to you. Her arms wrapped around you as she held onto you, knowing you wouldn’t disappear on her, but still needing to make sure.

“I wanted my parents to love me,” she began, knowing how confusing it must have sounded. “You remember how they were, right? Distant, uninterested, yet with high expectations,” she told you and felt, more than saw, you nodding. “I got a C on that test, remember? The one where only you and I got Cs and more than two thirds of the class failed?”

“I remember,” you told her, and she could tell you weren’t done. “If it was some other test I would have forgotten it, I can’t even remember if it was my first C or not, but I lost you right after it, and it just remained stuck in my memory,” you sighed, tightening your hold on her as you likely remembered how your next conversation went.

“They were disappointed, yelled all night, and I thought I’d make them happier is I stopped ‘wasting time’ as they put it,” she paused, buried her face in your neck and waited for your response.

“And one of those was the time you spent playing with me,” you said what she couldn’t and she just nodded.

“I thought if I did even better, if I never made any mistakes, if I was their perfect daughter, that they would love me more. They still pretend I don’t exist, like I’m the biggest mistake they ever made,” that was at the core of everything she did, she figured. Craving madman’s love, a love so strong it would consume her entirely, because she’s never been given the unconditional love of her parents she heard and read so much about. Perhaps, looking at it now that she was no longer trying to seduce him, she went after Miller’s love for that reason as well. Because deep down she felt like she needed validation from someone older, someone old enough to be her parent. Sure, Winnie’s talk pushed her toward Miller, but deep down, the key push was likely related to never feeling love from her parents. “I had you, and I gave you up for something I couldn’t ever gain,” she sighed, angry at herself for ever thinking that, for ever giving you up.

“Your parents are a special kind of fucked up,” you sounded angry, and though she knew any anger you may be feeling was directed at her parents she still worried some of it was reserved for her. “You have me now, we’re together, we’ll make up for the lost time,” you assured her as you gently rubbed circles on her back.

“I guess you would have left anyway, since your parents moved,” that was something that brought her some comfort, though it felt so hollow. “Right?” your silence made her prop herself up to look you in the eyes and the uncomfortable look on your face was enough even without your confirmation. “Y/N?”

“Not quite. I could have stayed, I just, had no reason to. And I could have come back two years ago as well,” you confessed, not wanting to lie to her, and she just looked down, processing the information as you sat up and pulled her onto your lap. “Cairo, listen to me,” you brushed her hair back, “Don’t get stuck on what-ifs, things worked out, and maybe they wouldn’t have if we stayed as best friends.”

It was a valid point, but at the same time, the fact that she was the one who gave you the reason to leave by not being your reason to stay hurt. She never considered that your departure could have been avoided, but then again, she never cared to learn more about the circumstances behind your parents moving. Maybe one of them could have stayed with you, or maybe they could have paid for someone else to make sure you were taken care of, they certainly had enough money to do what Cairo’s parents did.

It was also true that the past six years shaped both of you. Nothing proved that as much as how long it took her to recognize you when she first sat down next to you. Hell, she failed to recognize you in the hall, not that she paid much attention to you, even after Winnie said your name, she brushed it off as coincidence, as universe playing a cruel joke by reminding her of you.

In the end, you were right, thinking about what-ifs wasn’t helping either of you. “I still wish I didn’t push you away, I was stubborn, and then I was scared you were angry at me,” there, you had all the pieces of the puzzle.

“I knew you were stubborn, I guess I wanted you to come to me, we were children, immature, not realizing it didn’t matter how we made up didn’t matter as much as making up itself,” you understood, you weren’t angry at her, you accepted everything she said, and Cairo felt the weight she carried for so long being erased. She felt lighter, she felt even more loved.

“Are you mine?” she asked, bringing her lips closer to yours.

“I am,” you closed the distance and kissed her.

And there, with your lips dancing with hers, with your hands resting on her sides and her own holding you close to her, she did her best to convey, through her kiss, through her touch, to her soft moans into the kiss, that she was yours as well.

~X~

“Never fear, Winnie is here!” resounded through the mansion as you cleaned your helmet in Cairo’s living room to the soft tunes of Celine Dion playing in the background. Your helmet got really dirty, the mud and the rain didn’t do it any good, that was for sure, and you were surprised it wasn’t scratched, considering Cairo tossed it aside yesterday.

“That is exactly what I fear,” Cairo teased as she came into the living room just as Winnie barged in with the most flamboyant outfit you saw on her thus far. She had the bright sunglasses on, even though she was inside Cairo’s house, her skirt was longer, though still above her knees and it flowed a bit as she moved, but that was nothing compared to the flashy coat she had on, hanging from her shoulders as the sleeves magically flowed behind her back. Her shirt was so bright you wondered if you should go grab some sunglasses as well and she had several bags in her hands.

“Don’t tell me, there’s a secret government organization after you and this was your only disguise,” you grinned a bit when she raised her sunglasses and looked through the window.

“I lost her, for now,” she laughed, dropping down on the sofa close to you. “And it’s even worse than secret organization. It’s my art teacher, and I’m late for her assignment,” she cackled, tossing one of the bags toward you while you still had the helmet in your hands.

“Wait!” you yelled helplessly and fumbled a bit, but still managed to catch it.

“So that’s why I can’t see your underwear,” Cairo teased and sat down next to you.

“I’ll show it to you if it’ll get me a threesome,” Winnie tossed the second bag to Cairo and then took her sunglasses off.

Cairo rolled her eyes. “I’m not sharing,” she took out her chicken biscuits as you checked the content of your own bag and saw it was the same thing.

“Baby, you’d be shared,” Winnie said it so casually you nearly choked on the chicken you were chewing.

Cairo glanced at you and hummed. “You don’t know what I know,” and now you definitely choked, and she had to pat you on the back.

Winnie raised an eyebrow. “Share the spoils, also, that was quick, I didn’t think you’d lose your virginity before me, yet here we are,” the girl had no filter whatsoever.

“Not one word,” you warned Cairo as you tried to clear your throat and get rid of the awful feeling of nearly choking on food.

“And here I brought you lunch,” Winnie teased you and you just had to wonder how Cairo managed to deal with all the teasing, because, damn, the girl didn’t hold back. “Did you know Cairo dreamt about you? Like, way before you came back?”

Now it was Cairo’s turn to nearly choke. “Winnie!” she cried out, blushing furiously as her secret was revealed.

You just grinned and nudged her with your elbow. “Oh, you’ll never hear the end of this,” you promised her, and you decided you’d do everything in your power to get the details out of her.

“I’ll never tell you,” Cairo knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Wanna bet?” you smirked and leaned over to Winnie. “Say, you’ve been her best friend these past four years. Give me some advantage here,” you nearly laughed at how betrayed Cairo looked at the moment.

Winnie raised her hand to her lips and pretended she was whispering, though Cairo heard everything loud and clear. “You could fuck her on your bike, or hear me out, reenact one of the smutty scenes she loves to read so much in return for the details,” she suggested. “I’m not sure how you’ll fill her with cum, but I’m sure she’ll be satisfied with 95 percent accuracy.”

Cairo glared at both of you. “She won’t have issues with filling me up,” she immediately got her revenge, and you watched as Winnie glanced down and then up to your face. “Yes,” Cairo confirmed it before Winnie could ask.

“So,” Winnie paused for a moment to clear her throat. “About that threesome,” she just laughed when Cairo threw a paper bag at her.

“I’ll go and get something sweet,” Cairo grumbled as she stood up and went toward her kitchen.

“You sure we can’t share you?” Winnie cackled when all she got as a response was a middle finger. “She’s happy, you know,” she suddenly told you and smiled, an actual, honest, no teasing whatsoever smile softened her face.

You tilted your head, not sure how she got that from this interaction.

“You still have some catching up to do, but she likely isn’t as open and relaxed as she was when you were kids. She’s absurdly stiff, and sure, she laughs, and smiles, but she’s just radiating from how happy she is right now. You see her, you love her, and she’s wanted that for so long, to be loved by someone who can take her loneliness away and take her away from here when she can’t do it for herself,” Winnie explained to you, and though she didn’t say it, you dared to think she left one bit unsaid, the part likely going along the lines: ‘you did something I couldn’t,’ because you saw just how much Winnie cared about Cairo, and you were thankful for that.

“I’ll get up to speed, I want to make her as happy as I possibly can,” you said, looking toward the kitchen. And you’d do just that, you’d do absolutely everything in your power to make sure she never felt lonely again.

A/N: How do I put this. Enjoy the happy times! We’re entering a bit of a angst part from the last third of the next chapter… Four chapters to go though!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

@puta1 @minnyyminny

[atsuwumus]

CONGRATS ON HITTING A HUGE MILESTONE!!!🤍 you absolutely deserve it and i truly love and adore your works so much! theyre so well written and exciting to read!!<3 i was wondering if you could write a little smth on Zayne form L&DS thats spicy.. hehehe the plot or flow i will leave it up to you?? but again i love you!!! so much!!! congrats once again<3

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : AAAAA sweet anon you're making me blush!! (๛ ˘ ³˘ )♡ you are so sweet, thank you for these kind words!! it always makes me so happy to hear that you're enjoying my writing!! I hope I can continue sharing fics you all enjoy <333

୨ৎ haunting me followers event

" 𝐇𝐌𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 very patient, are you? Seems like a virtue I'll have to teach you."

A whine sits high in your throat and you have to swallow several times in order to keep quiet, watching through a heavy lidded gaze as Zayne once again aligns his pool cue with the ball. You should be embarrassed by your current position, ashamed that you had managed to get yourself pinned down like this, but the mere sinful sight of him is enough to make you wish you could clench your thighs together.

What was supposed to be a simple lesson in pool had unfolded into a shameless display of debauchery. Zayne was testing your patience and you were testing his self control.

The clink of a ball hitting the surface of another reels your thoughts back to the present moment and you bite down hard on your bottom lip when you meet Zayne's gaze. He hardly looked like the man you knew — respected doctor, known colleague and close friend. If anything he looked like a predator ready to pounce at its prey, hazel eyes darkened by black rings around his irises and black strands of hair brushing across his brows.

He blows out a hot breath where he's still nestled between your thighs and you whimper, the sensitive skin there responding nicely, drawing out just the reaction he wanted. He wanted to rile you up, wind you up tight until you'd tremble and break down from nothing more than a simple touch.

Ever so slowly he lowers his head until his mouth ghosts over your clothed cunt, taking a sinful inhale before a sly smile spreads across his lips. "She's quivering," he whispers and you can feel every single syllable against your skin. Your clit throbs and your nails dig into the worsted wool beneath you, anchoring you to nothing. Your panties are far beyond ruined by now, stained with silky evidence of how badly you needed him to do something, anything.

"You're dripping, sweet girl. And I haven't even touched you yet..." A breath, a chuckle that hums underneath your heated skin. "Is that how bad you want me?"

The sound of his breathy laugh is enough to make you tilt your hips up, chasing those honeyed lips that spoke so many vulgar phrases, pouting at him. With ease he pushes you back down with a gloved hand before he murmurs, "Too bad. I have four more balls to sink."

[i-yap]

Literally loving ur writing so far Bestie 🥺💙would I be able to req how the batboy would react to a fwb/situationship vibe with reader? Like they have feelings but reader is scared of commitment

Thank youuu! Im gonna be really honest, I don't think a lot of the batboys would be okay with a situationship sort of deal.. and I don't write romantic damian( at least not yet) .

Batboys x reader- Situationship headcanons

Dick grayson-

I can see a teammate or someone he works close with as a detective turns into a night of passion and now both of them cant go back to normal situation .

He says he is okay with it, and prolly keeps up that act for 4-5 months?

I think you would end the situationship. Dick is a really sought-after guy and one night he Is just upset with you about something. So when another girl flirts with him rather than his usual " I'm sorry there's someone else I'm into" line he flirts back. You see red

you either walk away angry/upset or pull him away. He follows you to an alley or a secluded area of the party.

"why are you even upset, you are the one who doesn't want us to be official?" "well that's not because I don't want you, that's because I'm scared of intimacy"

He would be really understanding once you explain your issues and fear of commitment. You guys come up with a better set of guidelines for your arrangement and he sticks to it.

if you want an open relationship, he is down. if you want to be exclusive but not yet in a relationship relationship he would be okay.

But dick does want to get married someday and have kids. So this arrangement wont last for long. he will try his hardest to help you overcome that fear of commitment but if you cant then its gonna end someday. And he makes that clear to you from the start. all cards are on the table always and communication is key and he makes sure no one gets hurt( or at least tries avoiding it as much as he can)

Jason todd

wont do it

maybe a bestfriend turned situationship scenario

you are his sanctuary , his home a safe place to come back to. and after everything he has been through he struggles with so many insecurities and he deserves a domestic life.

the moment he sees you with another guy, even if it just flirting, he is out the door. He already believes no one loves him and now you don't even want to commit to him? is he not enough?

he gets that you have issues and no one understands issues better than him. But he is in so much pain already that its best for the both of you to not get together at all.

even the fact that you from the very start didn't want to commit makes him get all in his head and even if you get ready to commit later on , he wont be able to forget that fact and will keep thinking you'll leave him or he isn't the one

he also reads a lot of classic literature and romance in books is what he wants. the concept of a situationship doesn't make sense to him and he just needs some good old domestic loving.

Tim drake

best at it

you guys are young, he is so busy. he is totally cool with a teenage dirtbagy relationship

lets meet under the bridge , get high and makeout type of shit,

Partners in crime / bestfriends that hookup

he loves it, its perfect for him

there are no expectations no responsibilities, you guys are just what the other needs . no stupid anniversaries and big fancy dinners

tim gives very "eat the rich" vibes so this situationship is another way for him to be a little rebellious .

Very very teenage dirtbag- going to grocery shops at 2am and sitting on the dirty floor trying all 20 types of slushies

spray painting the really big asshole companies buildings, going to huge rallies without having any idea what you are rallying for.

stealing the batmobile and then crashing it

the adrenaline makes you hot and bothered and it leads to more. and once its over you go to a shady Chinese place and tip 200 on a 40 dollar meal.

he gets you, you get him and you don't need labels to show your love to each other. and who needs someone else when you have everything you could want within each other? and then someday when you're ready and if you are ready, you can always make it official. its all up to you two , fuck the labels

[starzblvd]

Me Espresso.ᐟ

Ellie thinks coffee tastes disgusting, but you taste delicious. Do u guys get my fire references in here, hope you babes enjoy 🍽️ Band!Ellie Bsf!ellie college!au

Hot summer nights while having your knees digging your weight into the carpet floor of your best friends small dorm room was starting to become weekly routine. Making band tees with cheap markers for her band that had its fair amount of supporters, somehow they’d sell out every time they performed. It was probably because there’d only be like 20 shirts that actually looked good enough to put out for sale.

Sitting next to you was Ellie with half of a bun she struggled to keep it together had some strands fall out and onto the back of her neck. You could smell the perfume on her, you convinced her to buy it that one time she’d agreed to come shopping with you. Wanting to be helpful you had to show her the right way to wear it, by spraying it on your wrist to then rubbing it into her collarbone, just to be helpful of course.

Holding up a finished shirt Ellie grins into the cocky face you’ve gotten to love the look of,

“Oh they’re gonna love this,”

“what your 300 Spotify listeners?”

“Ouch,” Ellie looks at you playing heartbroken to then throw the shirt right at your face. It was always banter like this, with the very few times the lines almost blurred to get somewhere further. Staying away gets harder when being with her was so natural.

“Just for that I’m so not coming to your concert tomorrow.”

“Hey hey hey I need my number one fan there, plus we’re getting ice cream after.”

You’d become a groupie to her, always front lining to every concert she was able to catch a venue in, which were basically all bars. When she’d look below to you under the neon lights playing guitar it felt like such a special moment only between you and Ellie. No crowd no other band mates, as if you knew what she was thinking of and that she wanted you too. Some of your plans started to circle around her now that she was being a bit more discovered.

”You aren’t going to talk to your fan girls?”

“Nah, I’d rather spend my time with you. You know?” Staring at each other awkwardly stopped being so awkward when they’d happen so much, it’s was perfectly normal.

And with opportunity you got to be with Ellie you already knew you’d take it. As little as you knew she was wrapped around with whatever you had been involved in too, stuck and feeding off your sweetness like a bee.

June.21.24

Just like every concert you shared your special moment, no one else can say they had Ellie’s direct attention during multiple songs. This time it was more of an outside stage with sand below you. Yellow hued string lights draped above the stage and more along the audience area. The heat was really getting to Ellie, making her glow from sweat. The black T-shirt she picked out only made her condition worse. The face framing bangs she cut herself were sticking to the side of her face.

She wasn’t even singing, but being under your watch scorched her hotter. To save herself from embarrassment she mainly looked down to her guitar playing notes, but she made a mistake looking at you when a lyric of a song she made with you in thought came up.

Tell me you never wanna lose me

Cuz I know when you call you call for me

She might’ve been a little out of it when helping writing the song, but it became too late when Dina saw the scrunched up paper and kept insisting on making it an official song for a newer album.

To you it was just another lyric that was written by anyone but Ellie. If only you knew how much she relates to your desperation to be with you in every way and any position she could. Whether your batting of eyelashes at her was intentional or not her finger slipped making an unplanned squeak slip through.

‘Fuck this is so bad she probably thinks I’m shit at playing now’

Lucky for Ellie it was the final song anyways and she could get far away from the crowd and you. Other people clapped upon their leave and when they finished their set list you knew exactly where to meet her.

”You ever going to do more than eye her when we’re up there?” Dina was putting away the instruments back to take home with help from Jessie.

“What are you even saying I don’t do that,” Ellie scoffs then sits down on a blue deflated bean bag that who knows how long it’s been in this back room.

“Oh you know what I’m talking about, your friend zone is taking longer than your time with Cat.” She crossed her arms waiting for another excuse to why she hasn’t done anything after a continued semi dating friendship since freshman year.

“She’s nothing like Cat that’s why, if I lose feelings for her after getting rejected that’s one thing but losing her completely because I fucked it up is different.” Her constant fear of never getting to be near you again because of some feelings she couldn’t stop screwed her over with overthinking everything.

In her journal it was the same thing, “She liked my shirt today, I don’t want to look weird and over wear it now, but not under wear it now. Unless she’d like to see it more often or maybe she likes my style in general she’d like me in anything?? Fucking hate this gay stuff and whys it so hard.”

One of the two large metal doors swings open with you appearing, with the smile you wore she had engraved into her mind with a hot rod of metal after sketching you a few more times she’d probably ever admit. Ellie got up and cut the short distance and accepted you into her arms trying to not look like a desperate looser that flushes over a simple hug. Her ears clammy hands didn’t make her look exactly so hot and relaxed though.

“You did amazing El’s,”

“You think so?” She lit up into a smile under your praise, no matter how many times you give it to her mind melts.

“Except for the part where she messed up on the bridge.” Ellie shot a quick mean look at Jessie, but he just turned a cold shoulder before turning away.

“At least I didn’t bump into Dina’s drums 10 times,”

While Ellie kept bickering back and forth with Jessie she still held onto you, this felt like an opening to try at doing something.

A kiss on the check seemed harmless and innocent enough to take back in the case Ellie thought it was totally disgusting. Raising your head up towards her cheek nearing the corners of her smile, pressing your lips to a pout Ellie brought her face back in your direction landing the small peck on her lips. Ellie locked in place while you pulled away, not that you wanted to, but felt too embarrassed to start a kiss you didn’t know how to finish.

“El’s ‘m so sorry, you just moved out of nowhere and-“

“No, yeah mistakes happen, it’s chill or whatever,”

Her shit faced expression wasn’t helping the full pink flush saturating deeper on her face. Ellie lowered her head to wipe the bottom of her nose trying to forget the way your lips felt, your lipgloss was still sweet on her and so was the taste of it on her tongue wiping her lips clean.

Now it was your turn to feel scared and conflicted. It was too silent in the room even with the chatter of everyone else doing their own things outside. Taking back the small kiss wasn’t so easy now that it was done and got taken up a notch further.

She dropped her arms from both of your sides, looking away from you because looking at you right now felt like looking directly into the sun.

“Ellie you should start up the car we’re done here,” Jessie throws the keys at her giving her a slight knowing look to let her go and collect herself back together.

She didn’t even say anything, walked away without a goodbye or convincing enough reassurance that would calm your nerves.

“I’m gonna go home too, see you guys.” You were left with only your actions to think about. Ellie’s response to an accidental kiss made her ran away in the other away how could’ve you imagined it going any of other way? Feeling guilt and shame were the only emotions you could feel, rethinking the crush you’ve denied yourself from paying attention to and that it should’ve stayed that way.

Instead of paying attention to the kiss Ellie let her actions drive themself, not wanting to think at all. Until she hit herself with the car door, why did I act so grossed out? Making different scenarios of how it could’ve played out a million times better she thrust the keys into the ignition.

She dug out her cracked old red iPhone from her butt pocket and threw it into the passenger side. It hit something else than the leather seat, one of the lipglosses you always carry around abandoned alone. Ellie reached for it and saw the shade label, Glassy Expresso.

It sounded like the taste in her mouth from earlier, a taste you stole from her too soon. Unscrewing the lid she contemplated just trying it on. My lips are dry anyways, she swiped the applicator across her lips twice to get an even coat and rubbed it in with her lips. Some of it slipped onto her tongue, again. If only the taste of you could come along with the gloss.

Lmk if you guys want a pt.2♡🍒

[piastree]

Is It Over Now? | LN4

lando norris x reader (fc: olivia rodrigo)

— Part 5

Previous Part | Next Part

Summary: As Lando's life goes on, so does Kaia's life. But has she finally found someone new? She is always afraid to compare her new relationship with her previous relationship because she knows that she is not completely over him. note: I've decided to give names to each character in this story because I was getting confused while writing. I hope you don't mind with this change<3

f1wagsupdate

Liked by user, user, user and 55,123 others

f1wagsupdate It's been spreading everywhere that a few days ago, Lando was seen partying with his friends. Someone just sent us a DM saying they spotted Kaia there too, and saw them chatting together. Luisa was nowhere too be seen that night because she was out of the town. Just recently, Kaia posted a song cover on her instagram story. Could this be related to her meeting with Lando? Running into each other once or twice could be a coincidence, but three times? Doesn't that mean they're meant to be together?

view comments

user no solid proof y'all just love drama, leave her alone

user Are we even sure it was Kaia? People jump to conclusions so fast

user Seeing Lando with Kaia again makes me think they're not over each other yet

user Stop spreading hate. Whether they're friends or even not be friends anymore, it's their choice

user Lando should focus on Luisa if he’s serious about their relationship

user who are u to judge if he hasn't really moved on?

user Old feelings die hard

user did lando and kaia have an on and off relationship back then?

user as much as i know nope

user Nope, they weren't the on-again, off-again type. Plus, Kaia went off social media for a bit after their split, and after that she never showed anything related to him

f1wagsupdate

Liked by user, user, user and 43,666 others

f1wagsupdate Kaia, Lando's ex-girlfriend, has recently been spotted in London enjoying some quality time with a mystery man. The two were seen together, looking quite cozy and definitely giving off more-than-friends vibes. Eyewitnesses say Kaia and the handsome stranger were deep in conversation, sharing laughs and looking very comfortable in each other's company.

view comments

user I need to know who this mystery man is ASAP

user she deserves to be happy, whether it's with Lando or someone else

user even with just their backs in the photo, they look so cute<3

user the body language says it all, the hand placement is definitely not just friendly

user finally she found someone, all the best for you kaia

luisinhaoliveira99

Liked by user, user, user and 122,120 others

luisinhaoliveira99 a night to remember❤️

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landonorris ❤️

notes: sorry it took a long time for the new post. Hope you enjoy the new chapter :D i'm planning to edit the names from the beginning, hopefully i can finish it as soon as possible

taglist: @c-losur3 @tania2748 @starz4me1 @celestialend @booksandflowrs @xlinxdax0704 @jule239 @amberpanda99 @sanctify-mp3 @alltoomaples @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @jehun @d3kstar@lottef1 @m4neaterrrr @sassyheroneckgiant @saachiep81 @evie-119 @nhlfs @hiireadstuff @littlexscarletxwitch @xjval @softtina @loaves4me @e-nonsense @ogfangirl @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ironmaiden1313 @landorris @norwayxo @saachiep81 @val-writes @sunny44 @maplesyrupsainz @moonyzsworld @callsignwidow @scopeiguess @chezmardybum @neodeliightt @imsiriuslyreal @tinyhrry @harrysdimple05 @emyladia @kravitzwhore @theyluvflynn @urfavouriteanon

[evelynsgarden]

You should write some hcs or something about living alone with Abby, sorta cannon but not if you get what I mean? On a farm or in a home :3

Living With Abby Hcs

Cw: smut under the warning fluff otherwise 🩷 :p(ignore spelling errors if any (request open)

‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵ ‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ‿ ‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧

🩷 Mornings with Abby are always special. She loves waking up early to make you breakfast, bringing you coffee in bed, and sharing quiet moments together before the day starts. She enjoys the simplicity of starting the day with you by her side. However, she always forgets to wash the dishes after breakfast and will in fact leave them in the sink all day💀 she’s super sorry about it but forgets every time 😭

🩷 Abby loves surprising you with impromptu date nights. Whether it’s a homemade candlelit dinner or a spontaneous drive to a scenic spot (with a super cute picnic ahhhhh) she’d definitely wanna keep you entertained and happy :( and can you imagine her coming back from patrol and instantly wanting to take you to some nice patch of grass she found not far out because she’s missed you and wants to have as many nice moments as possible

🩷 Abby coming back from a patrol with trinkets and gifts because she missed you and couldn’t stop thinking about you. She’d come back with jewelry, glasses, charms, stuffed animal, music, etc just to see you smile

🩷 Living together means celebrating holidays ^_^ Whether it’s decorating the house, cooking special meals, or exchanging heartfelt gifts, she’s so ready to go all out. Imagine decorating a ginger bread house with her and she makes a little you and her out of ginger bread😭 she’d be so excited to show you too(shit would be funny af if ur shorter than her lmfao- a lil ginger bread dude next to a really fucking tall one 💀)

🩷Abby fixing anything and everything that’s broken in the house or not up to par with what she thinks you deserve. The oven isn’t working properly? dw she’ll figure it out- oh the door handle broke again she’s right on it- she’d fuck it up and make it worse and then proceed to actually read a manual(she totally knows what she’s doing😐) THEN fix it but she loves you so it’s fine

Warning nsfw

‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵ ‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ‿ ‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧

🧁 GAH sleepy morning sex with her would be sooo sweet❤️ she’d mumble out little “come on baby”s and hushes while she pushes her fingers into you slowly, listening to you beg for more half asleep. Her hands would be ALLLLL over your thighs afterwards squishing them softly, kissing up and down your neck before falling back asleep :(

🧁Abby has a bad (good-)habit of turning ordinary moments into something much more heated than they need to be😭. While you're cooking together, she can't resist coming up behind you, pressing her body against yours. Her hands slide under your shirt, caressing your stomach and breasts, her lips finding your ear as she whispers little moans into your ears. Before you know it, she has you bent over the kitchen counter, pounding into like shes scared she’ll never get to fuck you again. Girl is DESPERATE to make you happy(cum)

🧁After a particularly stressful patrol, when Abby needs to release all that pent-up tension she’ll take you against the nearest wall, counter, door, shit she’d settle for the floor- her hands gripping your hips tightly as she moves against you. Begging for you to scream her name louder because there’s not a single person for miles and even if there hypothetically were she’d want them to know how good and how deep she’s fucking you anyway.

🧁speaking of stressful patrols and my prior post(god her with a oral fixation) being in the bath with her to calm down after a long day and she sucks on your tits and plays with them with a thigh between your legs. When she gets bored of that she’ll drain the bath water and eat you out, sucking softly while forcing you open despite the overstim and multiple orgasms.

🧁cleaning you up after because you’re painfully exhausted (in a good way) she makes it her priority to have you comfy and close to her before you pass tf out because she still has you fucked up and unable to walk hours later 😭

‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵ ‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ‿ ‿︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ︵‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧

OH THIS IS SO CUTE(the first part not the part where my ovulation is speaking for me-)

(I really appreciate requests- writing is helping with my anxiety rn- short and sweet as always ;D)

[itskattkm]

I put a spell on you

Based on a request: I just read your baby fever thing and thought it was really cute. I liked how Wednesday slowly began to tolerate the idea of a child with R.

This doesn't have to be a contribution if anons of request, but could you do a short where R and Wednesday actually talk about having a kid, getting a surrogate or whatever voodoo magic the Addams family has, and then just having a heart to heart on it?

Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader

Warnings: cheesy, short smut, GiP, ritual, spell, family plans, Wednesday turning into a softy, sloppy writing, not really proof read

A/N: here it is my dear anon. Sorry for the long wait and I think it turned out way longer than I planned. Hope you enjoy it. More request are open :)

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You and Wednesday had been a couple for a few years now. You two met back then in Nevermore Academy where she basically saved the whole city. You both became a couple after tiny stolen moments between the two of you. Never would you have considered that Wednesday saw you as one of her friends. You always kept your distance but you were there if your friends needed you. So in the end you became a more important person in her second case then you actually planned and one thing came to another.

Years passed Wednesday became a well known writer but also solved the craziest crimes and caught the darkest killers just for fun. You were home in the big Victorian house you had bought with her once you two got married and moved out of the apartment you lived once’s. Wednesday was currently in her writing time. Something she still held onto. Even more after she really became a writer.

You walked slowly into her office. Hearing the sounds of her typewriter bitten one letter after another as she was working focused on her next novel.

“You’re planing to stay up all night?” You asked softly. Approaching her from behind. Looking over her shoulder and watching the words she kept hitting into the typewriter. "Mhm." Wednesday answered without looking up. "I can't get my last chapter just right." She typed a little longer. "Would you mind getting me a cup of coffee, querida mio?"

You hesitated but the fact she called you “her love” made her monotone voice sound so much softer. It was giving you some chills. After all she was Wednesday Addams. It was hard being her girlfriend sometimes but the little affection and hidden hints she gave you from time to time, they were your everything. So you made your way to the kitchen and made her an espresso with three shots as she liked or well… preferred. As you came back with the coffee and placed it on her table. Looking at her your face slightly flashed by the dimmed light in the room.

"Thank you... love" Wednesday smiled - literally her unique and rare Wednesday smile "I appreciate it. Really." She took a sip of the coffee.

"What would you do without me, hm?" She asked in her typical ironic and dry manner.

She typed some more. You chuckled about that dry joke, you should have been the one to ask her that. She wasn’t in the position to do that. Your chuckled died down in the new silence and Wednesday went back to writing. Hesitant you tried to start a conversation, ignoring how fast your heart was pushing suddenly and hoping she wouldn’t see the heat in your face. You knew her writing time was important. You may were her wife so Wednesday didn’t go hard on you when you interrupted her but still. It made you feel nervous some times.

“Wednesday can we talk?” you managed to whisper. She stopped typing for a moment and looked up, her dark eyes looking right through your soul. She was silent for a very long time before asking "Talk about what?".

began slowly and carefully “It’s been a while we had time to talk or do something together and I was thinking about something we talked about some time ago…”

Wednesday said nothing for an instant. She was silent. But then she put down the cup she had been holding as you talked.

She let her hands rest on her lap, turning fully in her chair to look at you.

"Yeah? What is it? What is it you want to say, my dear?" Wednesday asked in a very soft, comforting voice. She was clearly open to anything you might want to say. You sighed loud like you were holding so much back inside of you and took a chair nearby before sitting down beside her.

“We talked once about having kids….” My throat tightening as soon as those words left my mouth.

Wednesday blinked at the word 'kids'. She was silent for a long moment before she answered. "Yes. We did talk about that. I remember." Wednesday said very carefully. "Kids? You want children?" Wednesday asked, her voice was very low. “Well…” no more words left you as you got more nervous now. Slightly intimidated by her as mostly.

“Well… we have or jobs. Our house. We’ve been together for six years and married for two. I…” you shrugged your shoulders feeling almost dizzy, not sure what to say. How to make your point.

“I don’t Wanne wait to long Wednesday” you said softly, almost scared. Like you didn’t knew if it was okay to say this or even talk about this. But you knew you felt the urge too… maybe it was something in your nature. Your body saying that you were ready or maybe you were so madly in love with that woman that you wanted little versions of you both.

Wednesday leaned back in her chair again. She was quiet for a very long time. You waited patiently for her to say something but she only blinked. Wednesday looked at you "I'm afraid we can't have kids." Wednesday said in a very serious tone. "No children. At all. Ever." Wednesday repeated. She looked you in the eyes, her face expressionless. You leaned back as well and nodded your mind turning immediately into an auto pilot mode. But you had to admit That this was your fear as well. After all you both were woman, how was that supposed to work? For sure there were ways but deep down you knew that adoption wasn’t an option in the Addams family. Or anything else at all. You stayed calm on your face a wide understanding smile, but truth was you couldn’t hide the sadness you were sure that the smile made it even more obvious that this was going right through your heart. More than you wanted to admit.

Wednesday took your hand while you were silent avoiding her gaze, nodding and still smiling. "I know. You'd make such a great mother." She paused.

"We'll have a great life together, querida mio. I promise." Wednesday said reassuringly. "But no children. Okay? Are you okay with that, my dear? I know how much this means to you." Wednesday asked, looking at you. Her face showed genuine compassion.

You kept nodding, feeling like one of those dogs with a jiggling head for the car.

“yeah…” your voice near to break. You caressed her hand before getting up without looking at her. “Goodnight then… don’t work too long okay?” You added and left to your shared bedroom. Wednesday watched you leave. She couldn't say any more but she wanted to say something. When your bedroom door was shut she went back to work. She tried to write something again - but she couldn't. Instead she put the coffee cup aside and got up. Walking to your bedroom. She opened the door and went in quietly - slowly closing the door behind her.

You were already lying in bed holding yourself together. Staying quite. Pretending to be asleep. Wednesday sat down on the edge of your bed. "You're not asleep, my dear." Wednesday said. Her voice was very soft, that kind of soft that made you feel goosebumps all over your body but not this time. She laid a hand hesitant on your leg.

"I'm sorry for tonight." Wednesday said slowly. She hesitated for a while but then she leaned over you. Slowly she touched your neck and began to rub it in circles. Wednesday was calm and patient. She wanted to make you feel better. You were moving slight signaling that you didn’t felt like it now and wanted to be alone.

"Let me make you feel better." Wednesday said. "Please, Y/N. Let me help you." Wednesday spoke quietly and almost shy.

She went on to lightly and slowly rub away your worries on your back until you could feel her gentle touch. Wednesday was doing anything she could to make you feel comfortable again. She was trying to say sorry with her affection.

“Just leave it…” the words left you numb.

Wednesday didn't answer - she just kept rubbing your shoulder and neck for a little more while. Knowing you loved being touched on your neck. It always made you calm down, managed to make you feel better after nightmares. Wednesday wanted to show you how much she meant her apology. She wanted you to trust and love her again cause she felt like you didn’t wanted to feel anything of that at all right now. But she also didn't want to pressure you. "I'm sorry." Wednesday said again. She hesitated. "I love you." Wednesday whispered.

Her words having so much power over you. You felt conflicted. A tear rolled down your eye. She couldn’t see cause your back was facing her as u stayed quiet and tried to sleep or at least act like you were sleeping. Wednesday noticed that you weren't asleep. She could tell that you were tearing up. She wanted to keep you calm. So Wednesday laid down beside you and spooned you. Held you. She stroked your arm to comfort you. She wanted to keep you from falling apart because she knew how hard you could be to yourself sometimes.

The next day you woke up before Wednesday. You got changed, prepared breakfast. Today you wanted to visit her family since her younger bother Pugsley was celebrating his engagement. Wich meant you needed to go to the Addams mansion and would be part of the big family reunion. Wednesday woke up shortly after you, seeing you already got ready for today.

"You didn't need to cook me breakfast." Wednesday said slowly.

“It’s literally the only thing I’m actually good at…” you said trying to joke but you didn’t laughed or smiled. She hesitated. "Thank you, my dear." A genuinely smile on her cold lips.

"I'm sorry for last night..." Wednesday said in a very quiet tone and added after a short time "I love you, sweetheart.”

“Let’s not talk about that” you whispered and sounded colder then you meant to

You gave her a small kiss on the cheek.

“Now hurry… we’ll be late” you added.

"Okay." Wednesday whispered back.

She did get ready, quickly brushing her hair and putting on clothes to look good, appropriate for the family and mostly for you. "Let's go." Wednesday said, trying to push everything away for today. But the thought of yesterday wasn't gone. But she wanted to push it away for today. After a while Lurch came and picked you both up. You were sitting in the back of the car. Not really talking. When you made it to her family’s mansion you were greeted by her father Gomez and mother Morticia with much love as usual. Your parents in law. You loved them as much as your own, maybe even more. Let’s be for real.

Wednesday stayed quiet as she held you close to her. She may wasn’t a person for physical touch but you were different. And after moments like yesterday Wednesday felt weak. Addicted or cursed. Cause she couldn’t face seeing you like that. So those were moments where she longed for physical touch with you. She felt her black heart pound harder, happy that her parents gave you the same love and affection, you deserved it, you were family now. But Wednesday still felt a little out of place. She felt like she was the odd one out today more than usual - in her own family. She still couldn't shake off the feeling about yesterday's talk.

Inside of the Addams mansion you looked for Pugsley and his fiancé Mary. As soon as your eyes found them, you had a genuine smile for the first time since last nights events. You greeted them and wished them the best, having slight small talk and all.

After a while you found yourself with the rest of the Addams family and more in the big dinning hall. All different types of creatures and human beings. Outcasts and normies. They were all celebrating the engagement of her brother with Mary. But you could feel that it wouldn’t take long till people would start asking you and Wednesday dozen questions.

Right now you were talking with her grandma. Wednesday was happy about the engagement even tho no one could see it in her dead pan eyes. She was still silent. She stayed by your side. For the whole time, her family and their guests had their eyes on you.

You were the only one who noticed that Wednesday didn't really wanted to talk. Like most of the time. She didn't wanted to engage in conversations. She just sat by your side her mind a mess.

But it was nothing new, you were always the talk active at events while Wednesday kept being her anti social self. She surely did the usual deadly pranks with her brother and talked a lot with her uncle fester. But yeah. It was actually normal. But today Wednesday stayed with you the whole time. She was almost clingy. A very rare thing. She didn't want to go anywhere without you. She was always by your side, but at the same time - she still was in silence. She answered some questions directed to her but she looked very uncomfortable with everyone giving her the looks. And you felt this. You didn't need words to know how Wednesday felt right now. It pained your heart for her but also you didn’t wanted to feel anything right now cause you knew why.

“So y/n… when can we see the breed of you two?” Said Wednesdays grandma and you immediately froze. You weren’t sure if this was a joke or just a coincidence. So you smiled weak and left Wednesday and her grandma alone, finding a fake excuse to leave the conversation. Walking out of the mansion to be alone.

Wednesday suddenly turned red. Wich was even more rare than her smiling. Not because she felt embarrassed but because she saw how you felt about her grandma's question. Wednesday was always afraid of family questions. Of others asking about babies and families. Because she knew that it was something that she could never offer to anyone. Wednesday never knew how to react when someone mentioned children. Wednesday stayed silent and looked after you, hoping for anything that could make it better - for you. She looked away completly when she couldn't answer the question after you left.

Mortica had her eyes on the two of you the whole night and saw what happened, so she approached Wednesday and her grandma asking “Everything alright? Why did y/n leave?.”

"I just..." Wednesday started to speak - trying to stay calm. She tried to find something that would make everything okay. "Grandmother... She just asked us something... I couldn’t answer." Wednesday said very nervously. She still looked away in shame. She tried to stay calm. She was ashamed that she was the reason of all of this. She was ashamed because she couldn't give you the family you deserved. Morticia looked confused at her daughter and then at her mother in law “What was it about?” Asked Morticia even tho she already knew the answer.

"She... She asked..." Wednesday said shyly. "... She asked why we didn't have any children yet..." Wednesday replied as silent as possible for a second. Wednesday kept her avoiding the gaze of her mother and grandmother. Wednesdays mother tilted her head she didn’t saw the problem in that “And?.”

"Well... There isn't going to be any children..." Wednesday said softly. She looked up, still a little quiet and nervous. "We can't have any." Wednesday repeated, now more seriously. Morticia smiled wide she understood what the problem was.

Hesitant she touched Wednesdays shoulder without really touching it and said “My dear death trap… you know you can. You’re an Addams. And you’re my daughter. You have the powers of witch craft. You can have children with y/n… it’s not a problem at all that you both are women”

Wednesday froze for a moment. Her eyes went wide and she blushed. This wasn't what she expected at all and for the first time she felt actually dumb, dumb for not thinking about this herself. She suddenly felt shy to tell her mother more about your relationship. She looked at her mom again, still quiet. "W-What..??.." Wednesday said in confusion. Wednesdays grandma laughed “You didn’t considered to use a ritual?” She asked like it was the most normal thing. "A ritual? No... I never thought about that..." Wednesday said. She blushed even more and looked away. Her heart was racing. She couldn't believe it.

Wednesdays mother smiled genuine

“There are rituals that make it possible for you two to have your very own child…”

She sighed with a loving smile on her lips and looked around. “You should look for your wife and have a talk…” she added.

Wednesday looked up at her mother in awe. No. With respect. She couldn't believe what her mother had said. Could a ritual actually make it possible for you to have children? Wednesday was speechless.

She excused herself and made her way to the Addams library trying to find this ritual. She didn't took too long. Very quickly she found a small book. It had been written almost a century ago but it was exactly what she was searching for. Wednesday put the book in her bag but she could already hear the doors open behind her. She went silent. She was very nervous. The book could change everything...

“There she is my favorite niece!” said Fester with big eyes, electricity sparkling out of his fingertips and greeted Wednesday. She looked at uncle Fester and immediately tried to hide the book deeper in her bag and acted cool. "H-Hi..." Wednesday said softly but nervously. She was freaking out inside - and even a little bit scared. She didn’t wanted to talk with her family about you and hers problems in marriage or well… bed. But she wouldn’t consider it as a problem in bed. In bed was everything more than fine.

“Where’s y/n? I haven’t seen her since a while” asked Fester. "Uhm- she went to get some fresh air for a moment. She's outside." Wednesday answered, trying to seem unreadable. "She'll be back soon..." she hoped. She wasn’t sure were you were but she saw you leaving the mansion.

Fester looked at Wednesday with a knowing cheeky smile and said “She’s at the Addams graveyard”. Wednesday realized that uncle Fester knew. How long was she already outside? How long did she take to find the old book? Wednesday tried to say something but just nodded. She tried to find the right words. She tried to be careful with her words. “Uncle Fester... You know pretty much about spells and rituals, right?" She still tried to stay calm.

“Is this about something specific?” He said teasing and gave Wednesday a wink while chuckling. She blushed for a second. She couldn't believe that he knew - but he knew the whole time... Wednesday looked at him. Her eyes told everything. Even without her speaking he already knew everything about her relationship and how she felt. "Uncle Fester - I need you help." Wednesday said quietly. Fester smiled wider. "I... I found an old book..." Wednesday said. She looked down. "Its about a ritual that could help us to have a child..." Wednesday said while looking back at Fester. Wednesday was nervous. She really hoped that he could help her.

Fester looked at the book she pulled out of her bag and nodded

“That’s right… but the one you have is a way more newer ritual. I don’t know if it works as good as the old one”. He walked towards the shelves and picked up a way smaller one and much older one.

“This one. Will defiantly work.

One of our family members used it once. How do you think was vetter it born?” He laughed. “With that ritual… anyone can have children…” he added. Wednesday was shocked. She didn't thought of that - but it was possible now. It was possible that they could have a child. It was the one thing she wanted to hear right now. She blushed and looked at Fester in awe. She finally smiled but still was stunned. She looked down to the ground and nodded. "I need to speak with y/n... I'll let her know." Wednesday said softly. She turned around to go back to you and find you.

Wednesday left the library and went back to you. Finally she took this one step. She went outside, smiling at you with a small glow to her face. "I'm back dear." Wednesday said.

She looked around and saw there was nobody around, it was just both of you.

She approached you with confidence and put her hand on your cheek. "I have good news..." you were surprised to see her. But kept avoiding her eyes as you watched the family gathering from afar through the windows of the mansion. Now that no one could hear her she finally had the courage to say it. "I have a plan... A ritual that could make it possible for us to have children. I found the book and asked uncle Fester to confirm it. He said that it would work." Wednesday tried to give you a smile but she was still too scared to actually look at you. She was afraid of your reaction. She was afraid she couldn't make you happy with this.

Your heart skipped a beat and your face felt hot you looked at her shocked and asked “what?”

"We can have a child.... I just spoke to Uncle Fester about it..." Wednesday looked at you. Her voice was still shaking but she hoped that you was happy - like her. "I know this is important to you - but..." Wednesday paused for a second and looked down.

"Do you want that... Do you want this..?" Wednesday asked quietly. You were stunned and speechless and said confused “You talked with fester about this?”. Wednesday nodded quickly. "Yes... I talked to him about this... I had to... And... We can make this work. We can have a family." Wednesday said with a nervous smile.

One of those rare smiles she wouldn’t give everyone. That showed her beautiful dimples. That made you weak. You looked down not sure what to feel. You weren’t sure if she did find a way to make this possibly for us or just to make you happy…

Wednesday noticed your reaction. "If you don't want this... I understand..." Wednesday said softly. She looked at you. Her eyes showed her worry unsure what to say now. “No! It’s just…” I began with teary eyes “You gave me hope for one year. And when I asked you yesterday you said it will be something that will never happen and be something you can’t give me and now your coming and tell me about a ritual?”

"I know..." Wednesday said silently. She tried to get even closer than she already was. Wednesday put a hand under your chin and raised your head. She looked at you straight in the eyes and smiled softly.

"I was wrong yesterday... I just... I was scared to talk to you about this. I didn't want to give you hope in case it wouldn't work. No. Thats not true. I was dumb. I didn’t think so far… That's why I said that.... But Fester gave me the book... I... I think we can really do this. It's a miracle but I believe in it... Do you?"

A sigh escaped you and you rested your forehead on yours with closed eyes as tears rolled down my cheeks “Do you?” I whispered weak. Wednesday's heart started to beat even faster. She tried to wipe your tears away. "Yes... We can... I believe it..." Wednesday said softly. She put her other hand behind your head. She looked at you very deeply. "I think we can make this work, I do." Wednesday whispered back and smiled again. You looked at her

“You really want this? And you don’t do this just because of me? I need to know if you want this as well as how much as I want this Wednesday” I said softly looking at my wife.

"I want us to have a family." Wednesday said confidently and took your hands. She looked directly in your eyes as she repeated herself. "I want us to have a family that is complete. With you - with us. It really is important to me." Wednesday said honestly. Her eyes showed no doubt of what she just said. Wednesday was sure this was the right decision. “There’s no going back…” I whispered looking deep into your eyes. Wednesday smiled gently and kissed your forehead. She was still very close to you.

"It is the right decision..." Wednesday said. She looked into your eyes again with a small smile on her face. She pulled you a little bit closer and pressed you against her. "I guess we have some work to do... Now..." Wednesday said and smiled at you again. Wednesday was nervous but she felt confident in her decision and the fact that there was no way back now.

A true smiled filled with happiness came on your lips. You pulled her closer saying “I love you…” She hugged you. And you felt her heart beating under your chest. Her breath smelled sweet and she held you tighter.

She still smiled but her eyes looked a little bit like she still had something to say.

Your heart beat faster. Wednesday was beautiful, wonderful and caring just like you always had loved in moments like this. She was perfect - like everything about her.

Her braids were falling on both sides to the side of her face. She was wearing her dark lipstick and she was so... mesmerizing. She always had been. This feeling was perfect. This moment was perfect. You two were perfect for each other.

She looked down for a second and smiled again. She then slowly pulled you closer and kissed you. But not like something quick and without much emotion. She kissed you soft and slow like you had never been kissed before. Wednesday put her arms around you. You both were close and she looked at you. You could see that she was not scared anymore. She kissed you again and whispered quietly as she did.

"I love you y/n..." Wednesday said and slowly broke the kiss. Your hearts were beating like never before.

You drove back home pretty fast after that.

Now you were sitting at the end of your bed and watched Wednesday looking through the book. You felt nervous as she showed you the book with the ritual. “So how does it work?” You asked as you were already only in your underwear and wore a slight silk black gown on top.

"It's an old ritual..." Wednesday begann.

She opened the book and looked at you explaining the rituals step by step.

"The ritual takes approximately two hours... We're doing everything that is written down here. After that you need to drink a potion to confirm the ritual. And than..." Wednesday closed the book.

"It happens." Wednesday said. She put the book down, looked at you.

"Are you ready querida mio?" She asked shyly. “Two hours?” I asked shy

“What are we doing those two hours?” The answer was pretty clear but you were still to stunned to believe it.

Wednesday didn't even answer. She just blushed a little bit, a light smirk at the corner if her lips. She came closer to you and started to kiss you. She gave you her whole attention. She took your hands and put them on her body. Her cheeks were a little red but her lips were still dark.

She smiled evil and kissed you again.

She gave you her whole attention, everything in her was only for you - right now.

You breathed heavy and melted right into her. Kissing her back. The candles around you two that had been placed in a circle, were making this so much more intimate then it already was. It was the most incredible moment of her life. This moment - right here. With her girl. With y/n. She kissed you, she held you close, she touched you. You were so close together - so beautiful. The candles around the room put your faces in a romantic light and gave you a romantic but also spooky atmosphere. Your hair looked so soft and beautiful. You were so incredibly beautiful. The book with the rituals lay open nearby. She had prepared everything for this moment.

She finally could have everything with her girl and You felt pure joy.

“What about the potion?” You whispered between kisses your hands on her waist. Wednesday laughed softly. She couldn't help but smile "You'll drink it in the last moment..." Wednesday said softly. She was still holding you close and was still touching your body with a soft hand that got a little bit warmer. She was in a very good mood. She smiled the way she rarely did had, with a dark and sexy hint. But today - everything was different. Everything was so much more tense… in a good way. Almost like in the night of your first or well second time. The one you both started exploring each other way more than usual.

"It's still so unreal... That we really are going to have a family." Wednesday said and kissed you again. She kissed you so soft that you didn't even felt it at first. But with every passing minute, the kiss became harder. Bruising your lips. Tight grips around your body. The hunger was there and so much more.

You breathed heavier and was lying now on the pentagram you two had to draw before on the floor. Wednesday held you very close on the pentagram. You were laying down and felt her breath against your lips. Everything about this moment was so magical. So wonderful. And it was really just the beginning. She gently kissed you over your cheeks and jaw. Then she looked you in the eyes and kissed you heavy on the lips. She put her hands on your hips and pulled you closer to herself. In her eyes was passion and lust. The way she was breathing made it look like she was starving. Starving to touch and feel you.

You held each other so close. You wanted this so much. You felt her hair and her arms and she didn't stop kissing you. Wednesday was so amazing and you wanted everything from her right now.

The lights from the candles put you in a beautiful light. It was the right atmosphere and the right time. The room was filled with love and happiness.

It was just you and her. It was just Wednesday and y/n. A wonderful moment together. The most precious moment.

She leaned over you. Her skin was soft. Her hair was shining in the light of the candles. She smelled like a deadly flower her smell driving you to another world and then she started to kiss you again. Her body was so close and so soft against yours. You felt the heat of your bodies and you felt the love you both shared even stronger as her hands gripped tight your hips and thighs.

You didn't want to miss even a single second of this moment. And Wednesday didn't let you. She kissed you - touched you - caressed you. She was completely yours right now. A heavy breath of pleasure escaped your throat as her fingers pressed into your thigh. Wednesday wasn't shy to show her attraction. She put her arms on your waist and pressed you harder into the floor. She kissed you even harder and longer. You could feel how close her body was with yours. Wednesday smiled in pleasure. She was enjoying it. Everything about this moment was good. Everything about this moment was perfect.

Your hand moved around her neck as you gripped it tight. Your tongue licking her lower lip before you moved it inside to meet hers.

The kiss was more passionate than ever. Heat was rising between you both. You could feel your need growing. Every touch and kiss sended electric waves right between your legs. Suddenly Wednesday turned around and pulled you on top of her.

Now that you were on top of her you kissed her neck. Your hands caressing her thigh’s while your teeth hovered over her pulse.

Wednesday skin turned more and more into color. She looked at your hands and the kiss was still soft. It only got more intimate. Wednesday kissed you back - not just on the face - but everywhere around your neck. Wednesday was hungry and lovely at the same time. Your touch made her feel warm. She put her hands around your hip and pulled you even closer to her. Her legs were now completely wrapped around yours.

You gasped when you felt something between the two of you down there.

Eyes looking down to see a big bulge in her underwear.

“Is this part of the ritual?” You asked nervous and felt so much more turned on now. Wednesday grinned devilish. She didn't answer right away. She took her time to think about what she said next. Your hands were still on her hips and she moved them a little bit closer. She could feel how you reacted to her right now. You were excited. Wednesday was not surprised. She was excited too - because of this moment and because she could see your reaction.

She looked at you and whispered seductive.

"In the ritual there is one part where we... We need us to be very close... It's very important..."

“Yeah I know but i didn’t knew that the ritual and spell would give you a dick for that…” I said honestly and felt your hardness against my probably soaked slip.

Wednesday kept that sexy evil grin. Your reaction and this moment were so hot. She liked what she saw.

"The ritual has a few different parts in it..... But it's nothing strange. Nothing that wasn't planned." Wednesday said softly and kept a smile on her whole face.

She was so nervous and so excited at the same time but somehow managed to keep it cool. "I guess we can start the next part now... Can we?" Wednesday asked, but you could see that she really wanted it.

You grinned and leaned back down over her.

Grabbing tight her chin as you pulled her in a fierce kiss.

Wednesday was overwhelmed. The kiss was deep and passionate. She bucked her hips. Her hands were running over your hips and your back. Her erection was almost painful by now. It was defiantly a different experience to be intimate with you like that. To feel the effect you had on her, to see how much control you had over her.

She did not want this moment to be over. Wednesday wanted to be with you like that. Forever.

You became more confident and curious so you started grinding your hips into her hardness, to see how good the spell actually worked.

Wednesday was breathless.

She didn't speak a single word. She just kissed you back softly. The spell worked perfectly. She felt it.

Wednesday was almost panting. She put her hands tighter on your hips and pulled until she felt that you were right over her. She wasn’t nervous anymore. She was completely comfortable with you in this position. And she liked what she saw. And what you did to her.

“If there’s a way to use this part of the spell again… then we have to do this way more often” you said heavy against her lips as you kept moving against her erection.

Wednesday was completely overwhelmed. The spell worked better and better. Wednesday's breath was heavy. She did not know what to say. But she did not speak. She didn't want to stop what was happening right now.

Wednesday moved herself more and more in a motion with you. She kept kissing you and she did not stop. She couldn’t. You kissed her deep and turned both of you around cause you wanted her to be on top while you would do this. Wednesday didn't say anything. She followed your move. Your body was now laying under hers. She was completely yours right now. A moan escaped you. Wednesday was blushing. She knew it was the spell - she also knew that it was working perfect. And she was so happy.

She started to kiss down from your neck to other areas with hot open mouthed kisses . She was moving herself and wanted to make you happy - make y/n happy now. Every single muscle in her body felt alive now. The spell made her feel so excited. Wednesday was yours now. She was yours forever - she wanted this. She would never ever let you go - and she meant it from the bottom of her heart. She knew your souls were bonded for this and every other life. Always meant to be together in this and every other world.

Wednesday was so happy. You were everything she wanted. No. needed in her life. You were her wife. She was ready - and she wanted you to realize that she would give you everything you wanted, needed and wished for right now. You were everything to her. All of you.

Wednesday took control of the situation - with a spell and a few words. She was in a completely other world. She didn't want to speak. She wanted to keep kissing you. And she did. She tried all different places.

Wednesday was kissing you all over your face again. She took her hands away of your back and started taking of your slip. And she didn't stop kissing you. Instead she gave you love bites. All over your neck, collarbone and chest. Within seconds both of you were naked.

Hands and fingers roaming other each others body. Wednesday breathed lower and slower as she looked into your eyes for a short moment before kissing you long.

While doing that she positioned herself at your entrance. She knew exactly what to do since you both used a strap on regularly. Almost… regularly. But this was so much better. It made her feel everything. It gave her the full experience. She wanted to slap herself for being so dumb and never considering to use spells for things like that.

The words “my dear you’re so wet…” were on the tip of her tongue but she had always been a bit shy when it came to dirty talk. So she kept the words in her mind and started moving herself into you.

Meeting your tight walls, made her almost moan right away. “Deeper…” you said heavy and she did as you wished. Stretching you out and filling you completly with her dick.

Wednesday started to move slow with deep thrusts first but became faster in a short time. She moved her hips in different styles and tried different kinds of movements.

"Y/n... You are so beautiful..." Wednesday said in between short breaths that were hitting against your neck.

She tried to be as soft as possible - but that was hard. She usually liked being a bit rough. She knew you liked that too under special circumstances and something was telling her that you wanted it rough now.

You started moaning

Your nails deep in her back as you said breathless “I love you querida mio…”

Wednesday was breathing heavy as she heard you moan.

"I love you too querida mio..." Wednesday was kissing your neck again. And then your chest and everywhere else. Wednesday wasn't stopping. She was doing this perfect.

The room was so filled with love. The candles made this moment beautiful.

Everything about you - from your face to your body - you were so beautiful.

Everything about this moment was perfect and Wednesday could feel it coming. She didn't even try to hold it anymore. She didn't say a single word.

She was holding you tight and she knew she could finally let go.

She let all the pleasure come over her and she felt complete as you both reached the peak. Wednesday took a deep breath. Her body was shaking right now. She was still on top of you - her whole body breathing a little bit faster. She didn't move her head and she just kept kissing you.

She didn't want to stop now. This moment was perfect. You panted holding gently her cheek as you kissed her back asking “The potion?”.

Wednesday wasn't talking but she smiled. Her eyes glowed up in love and she kissed you back. "Yes... We are almost done... We just need one more spell..." Wednesday whispered and kissed you again.

Her eyes and her smile was full of love now. She held your cheek again and you could feel that she wanted to be right here. With you. Forever. Finally you both could have your very own family. “So what’s the next step then?” You asked. Wednesday didn't say anything. She kissed you again. For a long and soft kiss.

"The next spell is the ritual of the union. I need you to read it for me and then we will be done...." Wednesday whispered.

She was shy again and she didn't move her mouth.

"Just say the words I write down for you on the paper...." Wednesday whispered and gave you a piece of paper.

"Do you trust me?" Wednesday asked.

You nodded and Was feeling excited and with full hope. Hoping you both could have your own family. Hoping you would be pregnant after this. Wednesday climbed off you and gave you the piece of paper and started to smile.

"Okay dear I will write down the words of the spell now." Wednesday sat down beside you. She didn't say anything. She just wrote. It did not take long and she looked into your eyes with love and gave you the paper back.

"Read it loudly and I will listen. Say those words for me... Together we will be united..." Wednesday whispered. You nodded and started reading it out loud.

"Now the spell of union. In the name of true love I cast this spell over us. I call forth the power of all love rituals, spells, potions, incantations and sacrifices. May the love of two souls be forever united in this life and the next. I bind our souls together forever. You feel me. I know. And that is why I know this is meant to be. Let our love remain unbreakable and create something more. And last forever more."

Wednesday watched you and listened.

You chuckled after reading this

“This actually sounds like a second vow… and not like something we can have a baby with” memories of your first night together after the wedding came back. "I know... It's my little surprise..." Wednesday whispered. A devilish grin on her lips and kissed you again. She wanted this moment very much to be like on your wedding night. She wanted this night to be special and romantic. And it was. You kissed her back and after that, you drank the potion for the ritual, coming slowly to an end.

"The potion works slowly. It takes a little bit of time. It's good that we still have time for a little bit more… fun. I don't want this night to end."

Wednesday layed there - next to you - her arm wrapped around you as she caressed you back. You looked at the time “So I guess we need to go another round? Only one from two hours passed from the ritual” a slight teasing tone in your voice.

Wednesday kissed your cheek and laughed. "Yes... we need another round."

She moved your lips with hers slowly again.

"I can't think of anything else right now than just being with you... and giving you so much pleasure..." Wednesday whispered her lips on your pulse. She tried to make this moment last as long as possible. The potion was still working very slowly so she used the time she had right now to her advantage...

“Do you think it will work?” You asked softly

The fact that the ritual and spell actually gave her a dick to do this made you still scared that it wouldn’t work. Wednesday moved a bit closer to you. She looked you deep in your eyes and she smiled. She kept kissing you but after a while she whispered.

"We won't know until it's done. But I would say - it will work. The spell is working so it's just a matter of time." Wednesday had no doubt that you would be happy. In her eyes the union spell would work and everything would be fine. Your love would be there - and would last forever and most importantly… would create something beautiful. With the best parts of you both. "I love you so much... You are everything to me... You are the most beautiful woman ever..." Wednesday whispered and kissed you so passionately.

Your whole body was full of goosebumps and you felt like this should have always been the way. This was destiny. Wednesday was your girl and you would never let her go now.

You saw your whole life before your eyes together. In your head you saw that everything was right now. The feeling was more than perfect. “I love you Wednesday Addams” you whispered caressing her cheek and lower lip with your thumb. Wednesday was breathing heavily now as she kissed you again. She moved her hand up and down your chest as she kissed you again right now. She whispered softly.

"I love you so much. You make so much sense to me. Everything feels right with you. We are two people, we are together forever. This is our life right now. I am so thankful that we have each other..."

One week passed after the events of the ritual and spell you both were back in the usual routine. She was working on her book and cases and while you did your work as a video editor as usual from home. Wednesday finished her current case and looked on the clock. In about half an hour she would get a call from her office and then she could finally be done with work for today. Wednesday looked at y/n’s picture on her phone and smiled. It was perfect. Wednesday was now waiting to get this call and then she could get home and see you.

She still had in her mind the feelings of the ritual from a week ago. She just could not stop thinking about it. It was perfect and it would be her new every evening memory now. Wednesday was driving home now and was excited to see y/n. In less than 10 minutes she would be there and she could finally see if her wife had maybe some great news. While she was driving you were walking down the house up and down. Nervous about the test and excited at the same time.

Wednesday finally came home and saw you waiting. Wednesday gave you a long kiss and hugged you short. "Was your day alright my dear?" Wednesday asked as she let herself go. “Yeah querida mio” I said happy and kissed you long before pulling away. “So… let’s check what the pregnancy test says… I know it’s early but it’s still a spell so maybe… who knows…”

"Yes y/n. let's check it now." Wednesday took the pregnancy test that y/n was holding in her hands. Wednesday looked at it as she saw that it was positive.

"We did it... We are having a baby." Wednesday kissed you passionately and was so happy. Adrenaline and excitement rushing through her like never before. She couldn't even tell how happy she was right now. You did it. Your love produced a life.

Love produces life - and that was incredible. Wednesday was so full of love she couldn't stop thinking about you and the baby right now. You were speechless. And had tears of relive in your eyes “it worked?!”

Wednesday was smiling and kissed her passionately again. She was so happy.

She started to cry even a little bit. "Yes querida mio it worked. It really did!

We have a baby on our way. I love you so much." You smiled with slight tears and kissed her back deeply “Why didn’t you come up with the ritual earlier?” You said chuckling.

It's been a few months and the months were flying by. You were pregnant and your belly was getting bigger and bigger. "I'm so excited about being a mother..." Wednesday whispered to you.

Everything was perfect right now. They had each other. They had their baby. And they had their spell. It worked perfectly. The ultimate ritual of true love. I chuckled

“It’s weird to see you being all affectionate and a softy. If someone would see you like that they wouldn’t believe it”

Wednesday was touching your belly now. You were sitting in the kitchen now together.

"It feels weird for me too. It does not feel real to talk so openly about emotions. But this is our baby. And it does not matter how others see us if they see us being in love.

The whole world could look at us and laugh, but we don't need to care. We love each other and we are now having a baby. The proof is in your belly now dear. Besides that. I’ll kill everyone who dares to look weird or say something" Wednesday smiled evil. It was still so weird to see her smiling all the time. And being way more softer than she truly was. But you were happy that you were the one who had that effect on her. And you were excited to see how both of you would raise the child. You hoped it would be a Addams like the others.

"Our baby will be dark and unique as an Addams. Maybe a bit scary but very smart. Just like us." Wednesday said with a proud smirk making you chuckle “well I hope”.

"I hope so too. But I think we are having a really smart and dark child for sure. At least if he is a little bit like me I'm satisfied." Wednesday said as she kissed your stomach. She was so happy. Everything was perfect right now. “He?” I said teasing

Then I added “I hope he will be just like you. So I don’t have to worry that much about the baby, cause I know it can handle everything by himself”

Wednesday smiled. "Yes. A boy would be nice. It's a little bit more fitting for an Addams child." Wednesday added with a little grin on her face.

"Just think how good he will look in his own little funeral suit. He will be adorable." Wednesday laughed a little bit as she said the last thing. She loved your little teasing and she loved that you could have fun. It meant so much to her. You laughed about this and shook your head it was so typical for her. But I was actually surprised that she wanted a boy. You always thought she was pulled to powerful woman and stuff like that cause she was one herself.

“Tell me more about what you imagine our child to be like…” you said peacefully. Wednesday smiled and took your hand and kissed it.

"Dark. Smart. Funny. A bit weird and maybe a bit scary. But very lovable. Just like us." Wednesday said as she kissed your hand and looked in your eyes.

She imagined it to be a beautiful child. Wednesday really didn't have a preference between a boy or girl.

In her imagination the child would fit perfectly into their little Addams family.

More months passed and you both were lying in bed now. Wednesday had her hand gently on you belly that was now way much bigger.

"She is active. I can feel it." Wednesday said smiling. You smiled watching her touch your belly and observe the movements of your baby girl. It turned out that it wasn’t going to be a boy. But none of you cared about that. The important thing was to have a healthy baby. "She is so active. I can't even believe it. But I also love it... Our little girl is going to be here so soon. I'm already so happy that she is growing more and more every day. I just love her so very much already." Wednesday said as she kissed your belly. The baby was moving a lot. Wednesday could feel her more and more every minute.

Time flew by faster and soon you found yourself with her in the hospital after giving birth. Wednesday held their daughter close and she looked at you.

"I will always take care of our little girl...

She is so beautiful. I am so glad that we are good mothers. What should we call our little girl?" Wednesday said as she kissed their daughter and then look at you.

You could finally name your little girl. A child made out of pure love and dedication. Their Addams child. They could not have asked for anything better. You looked at both at them thinking about names that would fit an Addams and the miracle it self. "There is Pandora, Persephone, Calypso...

I know these are unusual. Do you have any ideas? Maybe some dark or even Latin names?" Wednesday asked.

It was always important to Wednesday to have a strange and powerful, old fashioned but dark and mysterious name. Just like a true Addams. Something special. “What about Dahlia?” You asked.

It was her favorite flower and crime story.

In your opinion the crime was to much but the flower was perfect.

Daliah Addams.

Wednesday smiled.

"I'm really happy with that name. She is going to be quite a powerful woman like us." Wednesday said and looked at you.

"I want her to grow up with strong characters. To have confidence and love. But also to be able to have power and to use it." Wednesday said smiling.

She did not know where she took those strong feelings from. It was just a sudden feeling that she now wanted all that for their little Daliah.

[chaldeanu]

healing touch ノ wriothesley

ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . requested by @euthymiya ノ thank you kindly for this prompt and i hope it will be to your liking ♡ though i could probably write more and more about this specific scenario :3

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.6k ノ gn reader — detailed descriptions of blood and wounded hands ノ taking care of his injuries . kissing his knuckles after a fight

it’s not the first time you see wriothesley losing his temper against an extremely violent prisoner who got out of control and injured two other guards before cursing at the duke himself, unknowingly bringing him over the boiling point.

to say that you weren’t afraid would be a lie. after all, witnessing a fistfight between two large men always stirs the primal instinct to flee and to hide. it’s hard to imagine that a person so gentle, so lighthearted, enjoying tea on every occasion, can also be such a brute — or, at least, he used to be. his sad expression only tells how angry he is that the situation escalated to violence and couldn’t be resolved in any other way.

his breath comes out shallow, and you catch yourself worrying if he might dislocate his knuckles; he struggles to uncurl his fingers. every little bone feels like experiencing an earthquake, but he is thankful that the worst has passed, and before him is the most pleasant part — being taken care of by you.

a thick glob of dark crimson liquid dribbles down the shaking fist, threatening to fall but so sticky it clings to maltreated skin, keeping the wounds from opening further.

you swallow hard at the sight, trying not to panic, but the metallic scent has already clasped its claws around your head.

wriothesley exhales heavily when your hands touch his, already with a gauze dampened with a salve to reduce swelling and irritation. how amazing it is that even though the roles were reversed so many times, from the one who needs aid to the one who provides it, there was always the same calmness between the two of you.

“did i scare you?”

“a little.” you reply fast, focused on cleaning the blood. it’s serious this time, and you doubt your help will have any effects without sigewinne’s support.

despite his belief that he doesn’t deserve such kindness, that he can do it all by himself, and that he shouldn’t let you treat his wounds or kiss them better, he is far too tired and far too pleased to have your fingers rubbing his knuckles gently and placing soft pecks around the damaged skin.

his cheeks glow in a lovely red hue when your lips quickly find the back of his hand, right after clearing the spot with clean water. the feeling of his heart skipping a beat will always be so alien to him — someone who went through so much and saw things no one should witness, now struggling to contain butterflies in his stomach.

“i’m sorry you had to see this. i’m not proud of it.” wriothesley stares down at his trembling fists and how they reappear from under the dark coat of slick when you carefully remove the dirty layer and wrap them in a temporary bandage.

“it would only get worse if you hadn’t stopped him.”

you pull his sleeves back down and finally feel the stress leaving your tense muscles, nerves throbbing at the drying blood splattered across the cold floor. your thumbs slide over his reddened skin to smooth the bandages. it would hurt like hell to clench a fist for a while, but it’s all better now. especially after seeing you place an affectionate kiss on the wounds, careful not to cause a sting of touch to penetrate the soft gauze.

“there, all good now.”

and it’s true. as long as he is with you, nothing bad can happen.