#like. he had no idea. he was being picked apart and had no clue that he would even make it (the poets are just kids who didn’t make it -

[hum--hallelujah]

"I'm sick of always writing songs for you to slit your wrists to" little did Pete know then that someday we would see him happy and decide to put down the blade

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ 5 more minutes ] l. hughes

paring : Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Luke’s girlfriend surprises him in Newark after his last college hockey game

warning(s) : none really. just very fluffy and emotional. also very short bc it was 1 am when i came up w this idea

author’s note : in honor of today being my last day as an ncaa student athlete, i quickly wrote this up. i was feeling very emotional and i needed a way to express how i felt. hence why we now have a very fluffy / emotional fic. some of the comments luke makes are some of my thoughts about how my own season ended yesterday. it’s kinda sad but it had to be done. you’re welcome (i think ?)

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack texts her when he has picked up his younger brother from the airport. She begins to pace around the living room of Jack’s apartment that he’s now going to be sharing with Luke.

She has no clue what state Luke is going to be in when he walks through the door. He’s probably going to be so pissed that he spent the last two minutes or so of his college career in the penalty box instead of on the ice or on the bench with his teammates. He’s been so busy traveling that he hasn’t had time to sit and reflect on the season.

That’s the reason that she hopped on a flight to Newark as soon as the clock hit zero against Quinnipac. She just wanted to make sure that he’s okay before he goes and signs his NHL contract in two days and joins Jack on the Devils.

Either he’s going to be really upset and pissed or he’s going to be excited to start the next chapter in his career. She has no idea which version of Luke she’s going to get.

Keys jingle in the door about a half hour after Jack texts her to let her know he has Luke. She stops pacing and stands in the middle of the living room. Her eyes are on the door as Jack pushes it open.

“… not really in the mood for any surprises,” Luke says as he walks through the door. “I’m so tired.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” Jack tells his brother as he shuts the door behind them. Luke drops the big duffel bag that contains his hockey gear on the floor by the door in the foyer area. Then he finally makes his way to the living room with his suitcase.

He freezes mid-step when he sees his girlfriend.

With a small wave and a smile, she says, “Hi, Lukey.”

Luke crosses the room in five strides because of his stupidly long legs. He envelops her in a hug and buries his face in her neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and they stand like that for what feels like an eternity.

She doesn’t mind. If it means that Luke’s okay then she’ll stand like this forever.

She presses soft kisses into his shoulder and whispers to him, “I’m so proud of you, Luke. So incredibly proud of you. I know that’s not how you wanted the season to end but you did everything you could, and for that I am so, so proud of you.”

A quiet sob wracks Luke’s body as he pulls back from the hug. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. A couple roll down his cheek and she reaches up to wipe them away. Jack silently sneaks out of the apartment. He thinks he’s slick but she saw him leave behind Luke.

“I hated that I wasnt out there those last two minutes,” he tells her, voice shaky. “Maybe I could’ve done something that pushed the game into overtime or won it for us. Instead I was in the penalty box while my team had to fight even harder to get goals because they were down a man.”

“I know, baby,” she softly replies. “I wish I could’ve given you guys five more minutes. You all fought so hard. So fucking hard. I’m so sorry that’s how your season ended.”

More tears roll down Luke’s cheeks and she continues to wipe them away.

“I feel like I let them down,” he whispers. “I could’ve fought harder for them. For this season. I let them down when they needed me most and now I’m abandoning them.” His words break her heart.

She shakes her head and cups his jaw. “You didn’t let anyone down,” she tells him. “You did what you could in the sixty minutes you had. They know that and they will always remember how hard you fought for them. You’re so important to everyone on that team and you played such an important role in getting as far as you did as a team. They’re just as proud of you as I am because you are about to start an amazing new chapter in your hockey career. You aren’t abandoning them, Luke. They want you to move forward in your career. They understand that you’re ready and that this is what you want.”

Luke nods and wraps his hands around her wrists. She continues to look up at her boyfriend.

She’ll never understand how he feels because she isn’t an athlete. All she can do now is try to help him realize that he isn’t the worst teammate that he thinks he is at the moment. She doesn’t want him to have that mindset as he transitions from college to the NHL.

Losing is tough in any sport. She knows that much and she is going to make sure that Luke understands that it is okay to feel this way but that he also has to get ready to move forward.

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“It just shows how much you love every team that you’re on,” she replies. “You dedicate so much time to hockey because you love it. You’re allowed to feel this way and feel it for a little bit. You do have a contract to sign in a few days so I’m giving you tonight to get out everything you feel about the Michigan season ended. Tomorrow, it’s time to get excited. I’m here to help you get excited.”

A smile finally cracks through the frown that’s been plastered on Luke’s face since he saw her. She dries his cheeks one more time before she pulls him back into a hug.

Luke presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he says into her hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up. Yes you do,” she retorts. “I love you too. Let’s go get you unpacked then we can take a nap because I heard you tell Jack how tired you are.”

When she pulls away from the hug and starts to walk to his suitcase, Luke grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. She looks up at him for a quick second before his lips are on hers. The kiss surprises her because of how emotional he is, but sometimes a kiss is all it takes to feel better.

She happily smiles into the kiss and runs her fingers through his curls as she returns it. It’s one of his favorite things she does so many he’ll start to feel better a little faster. Luke loves feelings her fingers in his curls. It’s the reason he doesn’t try to tame them.

The front door opens again and a voice says, “Okay, we are establishing some rules. Rule one, the door stays open three inches when your girlfriend is over. I don’t need any babies crying in my apartment at three in the morning right now.”

They both pull back and she looks behind Luke at Jack, who has a disgusted look on his face. She smiles but Luke’s cheeks turn a tomato red. She laughs and shakes her head.

“Rule two,” Jack continues. “No making out anywhere I can see you. That means the-”

“Jack!” Luke snaps. “I get it. We get it. Also, I’m not going to be leaving my door open three inches. If I want to have sex with my girlfriend then I’m going to. It’s my room and we split the rent now so I’ll do what I want.”

“None of that premarital kissing stuff where I can see or hear it,” Jack tells his brother. “I don’t need that in my life.”

She laughs and takes the opportunity to grab Luke’s bag and suitcase. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We won’t traumatize you. Again.”

Both Luke and his girlfriend laugh as they make their way to Luke’s new room, leaving a disgusted and definitely traumatized Jack Hughes in the living room.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[forever-rogue]

Ok, just got an idea of tasm.

What about a first introduction with May, like reader is so anxious about meeting her and when she finally does so she realizes May is so sweet with her 🥺

Aunt May being so sweet with Peter's girl just got me ✨😭

AN | No, but May is the best! She’d absolutely adore Peter’s girl❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A million thoughts were racing through your mind; unfortunately none of them were good. You were about to meet the most important woman in Peter’s life, beside you, and all you wanted was to make a good first impression. You had no clue what you would do if she didn’t like you. You’d probably be dumped and heartbroken. 

“Stop being stupid,” you groaned at your reflection as you fixed your hair. You wanted to look perfect without looking like you were trying too hard. Ugh. You were definitely overthinking this. It was supposed to be a simple dinner, not some sort of life changing event. But…it kind of was. For you anyway.

“Hey Bug,” you hadn’t heard Peter let himself into your apartment. When you looked up, you found leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as you met his gaze in the mirror, “you look beautiful.”

You relaxed at his words, letting out a soft sigh as you turned around to face, “are you sure? It’s not too much or not enough?”

“It’s perfect,” he took a few steps closer to you, “you could wear anything and it would be perfect.”

“Shut up,” you gently pushed at his chest but he didn’t budge, instead only softly laughed, “I’m nervous, Pete.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “there’s no reason to worry. May is going to love you - she might even end up loving you more than me.”

“I hope she likes me at least a little bit,” you whispered, leaning into soft touch, “what if she doesn’t for some reason?”

“That’s impossible,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head as you huffed at him, “trust me.”

“I do…mostly,” you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, “but you know, the whole not telling me about the fact that you were Spider-Man doesn’t help your honesty credibility.”

“To be fair, Bug, I didn’t and wasn’t going to tell you,” you raised an eyebrow at him as his cheeks flushed lightly, “I mean, I was going to eventually…but you beat me to it.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle, Peter Parker,” you remembered the evening you discovered his alter ego like it was yesterday, “you came into the bedroom in the suit and bleeding profusely, remember? Or did you lose too much blood and forget?”

“I remember,” he mumbled softly. It was one of the first nights you’d stayed over at his apartment but duty had called; he left in the middle of the night while you slept soundly in his bed. He’d intended to be back and next to you in bed before you even woke up. Unfortunately it hadn’t happened that way at all, “it was…not how I planned on telling you.”

“Nevertheless, you lied to me…sort,” you waved your hand around before leaning against the counter with a heavy sigh, “so what you’re doing that to me now and you just know May will hate me?”

“I…” he paused for a moment, incredulous at your little theory as you pouted at him, “do you really think I’d do that?”

“No,” you sighed softly, your shoulders sinking as he pulled you into a hug, tucking you perfectly into his frame, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I just want this to go well, Pete.”

“It will,” he rubbed your back in soothing circles as you mumbled something against his chest, “it’s just May and me. Nothing is going to go wrong.”

“Fine,” you finally gave in as Peter chuckled softly, “let’s just go and do this.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You walked up the steps to May’s house, clutching on Peter’s hand tightly; if he was superhuman you might have even broken it. In your other hand was a bouquet of flowers that you’d picked up just for May. Your heart was beating so loudly you were positive that Peter could easily hear it. Once he knocked, you listened with bated breath for the door to be answered, trying to see if you could hear May coming.

And yet, it still took you by surprise when the door was gently opened and there stood May Parker, the woman, the myth, and the legend herself. She was a smaller woman but she had a giant presence about her; you could see how much Peter loved her just from the way his lit up, “Aunt May!”

“Peter,” he gently let go of your hand and wrapped her up in a giant hug that caused her to chuckle at him, “it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek before shifting her gaze over to you. You half expected to see some sort of judgment, but in reality you saw nothing of the short. If you thought she softened for Peter, she was even more gentle with you. 

“Hi Mrs. Parker,” you held out the flowers to her, hoping you didn’t appear too intimidated, “it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She said your name, so warm and tenderly, before taking the flowers and pulling you into a hug as well. There must have been something in the Parker family that caused all of them to give the best hugs; Peter probably learned from her, “it’s so good to finally meet you. It feels like it’s been so long and Peter never shuts up about y-”

“Alright, alright,” Peter’s cheeks pinked as you looked at him with a huge grin. Your heart felt like it was going to burst with all the affection that you had for these two people, “let’s, ugh, get inside before it gets too cold.”

“Oh Peter, don’t get all shy,” May wrapped her arm around your shoulders before leading you inside, “I think it’s wonderful that you have some to love so much.”

You flashed him a grin over your shoulder as you stepped inside the Parker home; he was a very bright red that gave you enough pause to hang back and press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Peter, can you please put these beautiful flowers into some water for me,” the kitchen and the entire house smelled absolutely divine. You’d been told that she was a good cook and that almost made your mouth water in excitement, “dinner’s almost ready.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you couldn’t help as but cast curious eyes around the kitchen and dining area, looking at all the photos that were hung up and items that were displayed. A photograph of a young Peter caught your eye as you walked over to it and looked at it closer. He was super cute as a kid and you couldn’t help but wonder what your kids would like…you hoped that you’d get to find out one day, “oh my gosh, Pete! You were so precious!”

“Peter really was the cutest and sweetest boy,” May agreed as Peter looked mortified; he wished the floor would open up and swallowed him whole, “he was such a good boy.”

“Wonder what happened?” you teased as May laughed. Alright, you already liked her a lot. Your nerves were still there, but they weren’t nearly as bad as they had initially been. 

“Oh haha, you’re so funny,” he stuck his tongue out at you, before instinctively going to set the table. May had really raised him well, “one day I’ll get to see your old pictures and we’ll see how you like it.”

“It’s so fun to tease you,” you walked back into the kitchen to help May, “besides, maybe one day our kids will be that cute.”

It was no secret that Peter wanted a family one day, and you’d both agreed that you wanted at least one child together. Your comment definitely caused Peter to feel a certain type of way and his eyes grew wide as he looked at you. He was definitely going to hang onto this feeling later when it was just the two of you. May, meanwhile, made a small sound of agreement, “you two will have adorable kids, that’s a given.”

“Oh,” your entire face warmed up as you stole a glance at Peter. He looked a mixture of both excited and embarrassed, “well I guess we’ll just have to wait and see one day.”

That seemed to quell them both as your stomach exploded with butterflies. You knew that Peter would be a great father one day and were equally sure that May would be a wonderful grandmother. You felt lucky to have them in your lives; but then, you’d known that Peter would be something special to you from the day you met him.

May hummed in content as you helped her to finish dinner. She had such a warm and calming presence and you already loved being around her. It was easy to fall into a rhythm and pattern with her and before you knew it, the three of you were sitting around the table and eating dinner. She was an excellent cook and it was such a welcome thing to behold a home cooked meal. 

Afterwards when you were all stuffed, Peter helped May with a few things around the house while the two of you cleaned up. 

“You know,” her voice was tender and gentle as she dried the dishes that you had washed, “I haven’t seen Peter this happy in a long time. It makes me happy to see him doing so well. He deserves it.”

“He does,” you agreed softly, “he makes me really happy too. He’s a good man and I…I’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s special to me.”

“He’s always been a good boy,” she agreed, looking into the living room and finding him softly speaking to himself as he moved some furniture around for her, “it was hard for him, with what happened to poor Gwen, and it took a long time for him to be himself again. I was worried I’d lost my boy too, but slowly over time he got better. And then, when I noticed just how happy he seemed, he told me about you. Well, when he first met you, I should say.”

 “I met him and we were friends for a long time before we started dating,” you looked at her in confusion but she only responded with a knowing smile. You inhaled softly as you looked over at your boyfriend. He must have felt you looking at him because his gaze quickly shifted to yours and his entire face lit up, “oh. Oh.”

“Mhmm,” she put the last of the dishes away before giving your arm a small squeeze, “needless to say I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Oh May,” you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over before hugging her. In truth Parker fashion, she hugged you tightly and rubbed your back in soothing motions, “I’ve been so nervous and excited to meet you. Peter speaks so highly of you and I understand why. Thank you for being so kind and welcoming. Peter is amazing and he always says he owes it to you. I can understand why. You’re both great.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” she promised softly, “as far as I’m concerned you’re family, sweetheart. If you ever need anything or need me to have a word with him, just let me know, alright?”

“I will,” you beamed at her, “I will.”

“Hey May?” Peter walked into the kitchen sheepishly, “did you, umm, make dessert by chance?”

“Of course I did,” she tutted at him before exchanging a look with you, “I made your favorite.”

“Yes!” he kissed her cheeks, “you’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you and Peter left May’s it was late; you hadn’t expected to be gone for so long but it was just so easy and fun to hang around with Peter and May. Peter held your hand, a knowing  little smile on his face as got into the cab to go back to your apartment. You, naturally, had a big tote full of leftovers to take with you. 

You’d fallen asleep next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He was reluctant to wake you up but he did so gently before scooping you into his arms and carrying you upstairs. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly, burrowing your face into his chest. 

“That wasn’t so bad was it, Bug?” he asked as he set you down and bent over to help slip off your heels. You felt so incredibly warm and fuzzy at the sweet but simple gesture, “you lived.”

“Shut up, Parker,” you sighed gently as he pressed a kiss to your ankle before standing back and towering over you. You moved to take off his jacket and hung it up by the door, “I think you might be officially demoted to my second favorite Parker.”

“Wow,” he put his hand on his chest and sighed dramatically, “that’s hurtful baby. I should have known better than to introduce the two of you. My favorite women are ganging up against me already.”

“Never,” you reached for his hand and started to pull him towards your bedroom. You were tired and all you wanted was to cuddle up with him. He easily obliged, lacing his fingers through yours, “you’ll always be my favorite, Peter Parker.”

You quickly stripped off your clothes before tugging at Peter’s and getting him down to his boxers. You’d worry about your makeup and everything else later. Peter pulled you into his arms as soon as you were both lying down and under the covers.

“What am I your favorite of?” he whispered, causing goosebumps to raise up on your skin as he ghosted his fingers along your soft skin. 

“My favorite everything,” you replied as thought it was the most obvious thing in the world, “my favorite best friend, my favorite boyfriend, my favorite superhero…all of it.”

“You’re my favorite too,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“Hmmm,” you hummed in content, “will you stay tonight? No Spider-Man-ing?”

“Yes,” he gave you a gentle squeeze, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Unless it’s an emergency.” 

“Unless it’s an absolute emergency.”

“Good,” you horribly stifled a yawn before settling further into the pillows, “love you, spider-boy.”

“I love you too Bug.”

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 15

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Danny shouldn’t have come back here. It was too risky. They had a way to disable his powers now, and Danny couldn’t let his mind dwell on that or he would freeze in terror, he had to focus on the present and not what happened the other night. At present he was looking up at the apartment where Red Helmet had taken him. 

It could so easily be a trap. 

But facts. Red Helmet had not stuffed him into a tiny electrified cage while he had the chance. He may of course have thought he had more time before Danny’s powers returned, but he hadn’t taken advantage. He’d stopped questioning when it was clear Danny wouldn’t talk. And- Danny’s throat closed and he fought a sob - he’d just sat there with him, invited him to lean on him and rested an arm around him. 

Just thinking about it made him ache with longing. Two days alone, hiding and licking his wounds, had only highlighted his loneliness. He’d tried to keep busy, to work on the portal, but it was limited how much he could do with a broken wrist. He’d stolen a brace, something he at least hadn’t been discovered at. The feeling of being watched crawled all over his neck whenever he didn’t have his back to a wall. 

Danny just hoped his wrist would grow together right. He couldn’t go anywhere to get the position of the bones checked. It wasn’t usually something he worried about. His healing was normally so fast and it’d always gone fine. But usually he was hurt in ghost form, not human form. Usually he had a better supply of ectoplasm. His ribs still hurt on deep inhales and it had been more than a month since he’d been crushed underneath Red Helmet on that rooftop. 

Danny had no clue how long bones took to heal on normal humans.

He didn’t know if he should be worried - he was worried. If his wrist didn’t heal right, it would make it harder to work on the portal. Danny needed to finish the portal. For a moment he felt faint as the delay stretched out indefinitely in his mind’s eye, and he had to lean back against the wall behind him to steady himself.

His hands shook as he closed his eyes counting his breaths: in, hold and then out slowly. In again- It would be alright. It was just a minor setback. Hold- He would heal. He would heal fine. And out- He would finish the portal. He would go home. 

He couldn’t dwell. He had to focus on the here and now.

Bricks were digging into his back. Flat pavement was under his shoes. Noise of cars driving through puddles, people walking, someone talking on the phone. City smells in his nose: smog, damp garbage, he wrinkled his nose; someone had pissed somewhere nearby and it was rank. The earlier rain clearly hadn’t been kind enough to wash it away. 

Yeah, that was about all the grounding Danny could take. He blinked open his eyes. The overcast sky left the city gray and dim. Across the road, 5th floor, 7th window counted from the right, that was were Red Helmet had taken him. 

Danny should not be here. It was objectively a terrible idea. 

And there he was again, trembling, because this could be a trap (and Danny had had enough of traps). But also he was so fucking tired of feeling like he was a pile of yarn, stacked too high in his arms so bits of him kept rolling off and unwinding and it was all he could do just to pick up the pieces and keep himself together, never mind actually taking a step.

He hated it. 

What was he even doing here?

He didn’t owe Helmet for not trapping him, for not being terrible, for being warm and gentle. Danny grit his teeth. He should not feel guilty for leaving without a word when he discovered his powers were back.

But he did.

Helmet had mentioned something about anger, and that Danny quieted it. He could have been lying, but to what purpose? To capture Danny? He’d already had him helpless? And he’d seemed genuine, his eyes had seemed so tired and pained, and boy did Danny know tired and pained. 

Danny’s longing stretched towards the apartment, before he harshly reeled it in and stuffed it back in his wayward core, ignoring the pain as he did so. That was another thing. He’d said he felt Danny’s call for him. Danny was torn about how to feel about that, and until he sorted out his feelings he had to keep a tight lock on what he might be projecting. 

It also meant Helmet could sense him, possibly from further away than Danny’s ghost sense detected Helmet’s not-quite ghostliness. At least if he was projecting, which he wasn’t. Not right now, and he would keep that locked tight, even if it felt like a hand squeezing his core. 

The one good thing about Gotham was that not a single person looked twice at some anxious, scruffy looking young man standing too long in one place. Danny picked restlessly at the straps on his brace. 

He had to make a choice. He either had to go or leave. It was too dangerous to stay out here in the open. He took a step- and left. He cursed himself for his weakness all the way back to his lair.

He returned the next day to the same pointless, time wasting result.

The day after that he forced himself to not set his feet on the ground. Invisibly, he flew right up to the wall next to the window. The drapes were still drawn, on all the windows that had to belong to this apartment. His ghost sense didn’t activate, even this close, but that didn’t have to mean anything. Danny could only detect Helmet like that, the apartment could be crawling with the rest of the vigilantes. 

It could still so easily be a trap, just waiting for him to stick his head through the wall.

He reminded himself that Helmet already had had his chance to capture him, he hadn’t take advantage. But that was the logical side of his brain and the paranoid one yelled so much louder. Danny was not a stranger to cruel tricks of pretend compassion. 

Still, this was the third day he’d been back here, and he couldn’t go on like this. He needed to know. One way or another, he needed to know for his own peace of mind. For his core which wouldn’t fucking quit it with the longing; single minded pile of useless instincts, is what it was. 

It didn’t mean he had to be risky about it. He’d spent a while thinking about it and if it was a trap, they’d expect him to come through the outer wall. Danny had other options. 

Mentally apologizing to whoever was the upstairs neighbor Danny slid through the wall of that apartment instead - thankfully it didn’t seem anyone was home. Danny lowered his shoulders in relief, and flew across the similar open floor plan, when he reached the kitchen, he halted in the air. 

He took a deep steadying breath, refusing to dwell anymore. If something he happened it happened and he would deal with it - one way or another. Then he stuck his head through the floor. 

It took a moment for him to orient himself, but most importantly he quickly discovered the apartment was empty. And as he looked over to the drape covered windows, nothing seemed to indicate a set trap. He let out the breath he’d been holding in a suddenly exhausted sigh, as the tension left him. 

Something caught his eyes on the kitchen island. He tilted his head, not believing his eyes. That was his backpack! Just sitting there, innocent as if it belonged there and Danny hadn’t lost it and several days worth of food. Danny slid the rest of the way down through the ceiling and absently righted himself as he went. He dared not set down his feet on anything. 

Carefully, he floated over to the backpack and inspected it, not daring to touch it. It was definitely his and not a well made copy. He ran his hands methodically through it intangibly searching for trackers and other technology that could have been hidden in its weave. There was nothing. For all intents and purposes that was his backpack, though of course his phone wasn’t in there anymore. 

Impulsively, he grabbed it and hugged it to his chest. He closed his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily. He was not gonna cry. It was just a stupid old bag - but it was also one of the few things he’d had of home and he’d thought he would never see it again. 

When he got himself back under control, he realized there was more on the table. His brain refused to comprehend what he was seeing because it just couldn’t be. Hesitantly he reached out and picked up the metal cylinder; the spectral calibrator. It just couldn’t be. Why would it be here? It had to be left on purpose, but why?

There was a yellow post-it note stuck to it and Danny rotated it until he could read, expecting an explanation of sorts, instead it just said in all-caps “FOOD IN THE FRIDGE.”

Bewildered Danny looked to the fridge. He’d honestly not even noticed its presence before, it had just been part of the kitchen backdrop, like the sink, the stove and the numerous cupboards.

He put the spectral calibrator in the backpack and put it on, just in case he needed to make a quick exit then floated over to the fridge. It looked like a regular fridge. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Gingerly he opened it, ready to go intangible at any moment. He let the door swing open, waiting, but nothing happened.

The fridge was well-stocked with bottles of water as well as pop and electrolyte drinks. There were also two shelves with shrink wrapped sandwiches right at the height of Danny’s head. They were labelled: chicken-bacon, ham-cheese, egg, tuna, falafel and dated with todays date. Helmet had been here today. Danny’s eyes were wide as he looked from the selection to the post-it he’d left on the table. It was an offer to take something, right? 

But why? Why would he do that? Why would he leave Danny’s bag here and the calibrator? What game was this?

Hesitantly, he picked out a water bottle and turned it around in his hands. It was sealed and didn’t look like it had been tampered with. He picked out more random bottles. Everything seemed fine. The sandwiches could have been tampered with. They could be drugged. But that wouldn’t be a problem as long as he took the sandwiches with him. If he got knocked out for a few hours in his lair that didn’t matter. 

It seemed unlikely they would poison him after all that trouble they’d gone through to capture him. So at most it would probably be something to put him to sleep. 

Exhaustion hitting him suddenly, he realized he’d been using his powers too long. Letting gravity take him, he leaned against the kitchen island behind him. His vision swam a bit as he wiped sweat off his brow. That was the trouble with having a human body, gravity did actually exist for it. It felt a bit like he’d run a marathon. 

He let out a slow breath, debating, then grabbed a bottle of cola - he recognized the Zesti brand. He could use the sugar.

The sugar worked fast. Eating something substantial would be better, but Danny was not eating anything here. He started packing sandwiches into his bag and a couple more of the Zesti bottles. And when he felt he shouldn’t burden it’s old seams anymore, he stopped. 

Potentially drugged or not, eating something other than dry granola bars would be good. 

He left and like a coward, he was glad Helmet hadn't actually been there; even if Danny still hadn't figured out what his deal was. That was future Danny's problem now.

-

Yeah I don't know what's with my strange productivity either, next part is also nearly done but then we'll run into a good deal of stuff that's just plain unwritten.

Also do you have any idea how hard it was to get Danny to go into that apartment? He's just so cursed skittish, this part wasn't meant to be this long - my notes for this was just basically "Danny goes back to the apartment to find his backpack, the calibrator and food left for him" - sigh.

If you wanna follow the story you can subscribe via the masterlist

Update: next

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING CONVERSATIONAL !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: just two good friends having deep conversation… or just simply a heated conversation over a call.

💌 re:moony's planner request: "hi, can you write phone sex with carlos sainz?."

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, phone sex, dom!carlos x brat-ish!reader), masturbation (m and f), dirty talking, degrading + dumbification, friends with benefits type beat (with a hint of yearning), squirting, brief mentions of orgasm denial, extremely filthy i did not write this i promise.

note: my demons won today pls be proud of them. enjoy xx (also! please don't hesitate to give me your opinion or talk to me!!!)

ps: i’ve also been spending my time on character ai too much and i just subconsciously thought of being in a poly relationship with fernando and lewis… anyway… enjoy

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

she didn’t know what drove her to call him in the middle of the night. they were nothing but friends, after all. 

friends don’t usually call to check in… let alone to get off as if they hadn’t placed their labels below the expected standard (everyone could have sworn that they were dating; they both laughed at the thought while continuing to (eye) fuck each other.) 

so she had no clue why she was willing to submit to him no matter how far he was. she was willing to listen to every single thing he’d tell her.

did she want the orgasm or the attention? she wasn’t sure— but either of the reasons had something to do with him, and it was becoming worse for her yearning as she cursed beneath her breath. today had been the worst of all days for hers

she huffed quietly and got comfortable under her covers, but her exhaustion left soon enough that she became more frustrated and agitated. her frustration left her with the stupid idea of calling him. 

carlos sainz picked up at the second ring and she could practically hear his smirk through his voice as he greeted her, “shouldn’t it be past your bedtime now, bonita?” 

she rolled her eyes, “shouldn’t it be past yours?” she didn’t even think to say hi to him, instead she snarked back at him with the same amount of playfulness in her tone.

“no,” carlos hummed as he spoke with his usual deep tone, “in the hotel though. we just finished our media day duties.”

“nice,” she muttered, his voice sending signals straight to her brain as her legs involuntarily closed.

it was as if he knew what she wanted at this moment as carlos chuckled quietly, “i could get into details about what i’ve done today, but i don’t think you’re that interested in listening.”

she snapped out of her thoughts as she replied monotonously, “i’m a good listener. good friends come with good listening ears.” even carlos knew that she was lying. 

“uh huh,” carlos said as he held his phone closer. “and this good friend knows a lot about you.” 

“that right?” she taunted, feeling the tension between them rising no matter how far apart they were from each other. “what do you know then, good friend?” 

carlos scoffed, his domineering attitude getting the best of him as he smirked, “you’re getting too mouthy, princesa.” 

he nearly laughed at the sound of fabrics rustling from her side of the call, knowing that she was squirming in anticipation already. he could imagine her heart beating fast, waiting for him to make the next move as her face feigned innocence.

carlos always had the upper hand and they both knew that. they both knew who was in control and she was in no place to oppose. 

“you’re acting like this because you are so frustrated,” carlos deduced with a tut, “you’re talking back like you’d be able to handle the consequences of your attitude.”

her free hand had snaked down her nightdress as she felt her bare mound becoming more damp as she proceeded to push his buttons. she replied back, “maybe i’m just projecting my frustration onto you, carlos.”

“by acting like a brat?” carlos’ voice became more stern as he spoke lowly, “you know that begging is the best way to do that, bonita. if you wanted to release it, you should’ve asked nicer— you shouldn’t be touching yourself without permission like a fucking brat. take that pathetic hand off your pussy, princesa, i’m warning you now.” 

like an instinct, she immediately pulled her hand away from her wet cunt. she didn’t even realize that he picked up on it until she found herself writhing while she subconsciously toyed with her clit at the sound of him. 

carlos chuckled with a demeaning and teasing tone, “see? you do listen then. and i thought i’d have to deny you orgasms when i get back.” 

“carlos,” she whimpered, rubbing her thighs for friction as she listened to him laugh aloud. 

“oh, no no, bonita, you don’t get to ‘carlos’ me,” he replied with a mocking tone. “you don’t get to see me right now, bebe.”

“but i want to see you,” her lips trembled, her mind shifting away from reality to her submissive state. she continued, “i wanna see you touch yourself and your cock.”

“how badly?” he murmured sweetly. 

“so bad,” she mumbled through her phone, her pleading tone making carlos’ cock twitch as he continued to stroke himself slowly. 

carlos knew that he was torturing himself with the teasing, but he couldn’t find himself to stop as his sweet tone turned to a mocking one as he replied, “too bad.” 

he settled himself on his hotel bed as he spat on his palm and stroked his cock. he then instructed her, “go on then.” 

she seemed so lost as she asked, “what?”

carlos laughed haughtily, “don’t tell me you’re already dumb just thinking about getting your pussy fucked with my cock, princesa?” he then clicked his tongue, “touch yourself. i wanna hear you cum.” 

she wasn’t even sure anymore. she was just eager to please him and herself, her fingers gathering the wetness that oozed out of her cunt before she pressed down on her clit and moved them in circular motions. 

she bit her lip as she sighed, making carlos demand, “i wanna fucking hear you.” 

she elicited a whiny sigh as she continued to torture herself slowly. she told him, “i’m so wet.” 

“i can hear, baby,” carlos crooned, his own hand moving up and down his length before his thumb rubbed his thick tip. “i can hear your pretty pussy perfectly well.” 

“those noises that you make are making my cock throb really hard, bebe,” he muttered, earning a whimper of ‘fuck’ from the other side of the call as carlos continued, “they make me want to fly back and fuck you until you’re shaking and sore.” 

“mmm…” she cried out, feeling her hips rising to meet her rubbing fingers halfway through. “…fuck!” 

“your pussy— fuck, princesa,” carlos cursed, “it makes me want to see how fucking wet you will be the next time i fuck you everywhere in your place.”

carlos’ hand increased its pace as her breathing became rapid. carlos growled, “i want to hear you in person- i want to hear you screaming for my name because you’re a pathetic slut who’s desperate to cum all over my cock.” 

“o- oh, fuck,” she sobbed, “can i please fuck myself with my fingers? please, carlos?” she knew that she couldn’t risk not asking him to cum all over her own fingers. she was so lost that she needed his guide. 

carlos permitted her, “go on. put those two fingers inside of you, bonita. i want you to fuck yourself fast.” 

she immediately obliged, her middle and ring fingers scissoring inside her cunt as she wailed in pleasure. her fingers curled up against the sensitive spot inside of her as she uttered, “ah~ fuck~!” 

“it feels good, bonita?” carlos asked huskily as his breathing rapidly increased, stroking himself at the sounds that her squelching cunt made as she fucked herself at a pace that he wanted her to be. 

“mhm,” she nodded, not even realizing that he wasn’t there. “so good, ‘los. fuck.” 

“it’s not as good as mine, bebe,” he growled lowly, “when i get back i’m gonna be fucking that pussy of yours with something more bigger. gonna make sure you cum all over my mouth, my fingers and my cock— gonna make sure your bed’s all filthy from the mess that i’ll make of you.”

“car— los! fuck, i’m cumming,” she babbled as she pleaded, “can i please cum, carlos? please?”

“fuck, i’m cumming too, bonita,” he let out a deep groan as he demanded firmly, “cum all over your fingers, princesa. fucking cum.” 

she let out a high pitched whine, fucking herself through her orgasm as liquid trickled out of her pussy. her sheets were covered with her cum as her body shook before easing off. 

carlos came all over his stomach, groaning aloud as cum shot out of his cock.

both of them breathed heavily and rapidly, falling into silence as they gathered their thoughts and breathing. 

carlos then reached for his phone and asked, “you still there?”

“yuh huh,” she mumbled, laughing to herself before she said, “never came this much over the phone before. watching porn never worked this much either.” 

carlos chuckled, cleaning himself up as he spoke, “what can i say? i’m a miracle worker.” 

she scoffed playfully, “yeah right. okay.” 

perhaps there was a real reason why she called him in the first place. she just needed to see it for herself before realizing it. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Three//W.W.

Warnings: mention of weight gain, judging spouse for gaining weight, planning to trick spouse, and some brief but very filthy smut, oral sex female receiving

Your secret affair with Willy went on for several more weeks. It was the highlight of your week, every week. He would bring over his delicious chocolate concoctions for you to try, and you would make love all over your house.

You loved having something to look forward to. You loved having someone that took notice of you, and made you feel beautiful and desired. Willy was charming, of course, but also sensitive and bright eyed, with such a positive energy to be around.

Each moment with him was a slice of heaven. At first, it was all about the sex, and how excited and willing to learn he was. But, in time, you found yourself falling in love.

You weren’t surprised that your husband still had no clue about another man coming over to sleep with you. He hadn't picked up on the exponential change in your mood, or the scent of another man on you, or the little love marks on your body. The man you married wasn’t the brightest bulb on Christmas tree. But he did begin notice that you had gained a few pounds. He made a couple of snide comments about your weight.

You hadn’t really paid attention, but once he rudely pointed it out, you realized that you had plumped up slightly in your belly area. It hurt your feelings, especially since he barely spoke to you and now whenever he did, it was to acknowledge something he viewed as a flaw. You figured the extra weight was brought on by all the sugar you had been eating on account of your lover’s chocolate.

You thought very little of your body’s changes until you missed your period the following week. Your stomach dropped at the thought of being pregnant, but not by your husband. You were worried about what he would do if he found out. You worried for your sake and for Willy's. You decided to call your doctor to be totally sure, and then you’d figure out your next step.

…….

When Willy came by that day, he was smiley as usual and wrapped his arms around you as soon as he entered the house. “I’ve missed you.” he cooed, kissing you with passion. It was difficult to be apart for a week at a time, for the both of you.

“I missed you too, Willy.” you said, squeezing him back as you hugged. “Listen, I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Of course. Is everything okay? Does he know?” There was a sudden urge of panic in Willy’s last question.

“No, no. It’s just…I think I could be pregnant. And you are the father, I haven’t had sex with my husband in months. I don’t know what to do.” you were anxious about your future when it came to this baby. You loved Willy, but you were a kept woman, your whole life could turn upside down as a result of this situation.

Willy's eyes were as big as saucers and he was silent for a moment before he said, “Wow. Okay, okay, listen, everything is going to be alright. Whatever you decide to do, I will support you.” he assured you, taking your hand. “I know that we haven’t known each other very long, but I love you, y/n. It sounds crazy, I know.”

“It does, it does sound crazy. But I love you too, Willy.”

He smiled softly at you, and he pulled you to him, and held you in a warm embrace. He smelled sweet like sugar, but also like fresh cottony linens.

You felt so safe with him, but you didn't know if that feeling could translate into the real world. You life with Willy looked so uncertain at this point.

But, his words of love and support lifted your spirits.

……

The next day, as you suspected, the doctors visit confirmed that you were indeed having a baby.

You spent the next week thinking of a plan of action. You were so torn between your mundane, yet familiar life with your dull husband, and the idea of running away with Willy Wonka. Willy had told you that his dream was to own and run his very own chocolate factory, to share his creations with the entire world.

No matter how big or unattainable his dreams may seem to an outsider, you knew that Willy was the kind of person to not take "no" as answer, and to chase his dreams all the way through to fruition. He was so full of joy and optimism and so easy to love. It would be the greatest adventure to be with him on his candy journey, especially along with your child. You knew that he would be a wonderful father.

But you didn't know how you and Willy would carry on in the meantime, before he found the success he was striving for. You didn't even know where he lived, or if he even had a home. For goodness sakes, you couldn't give birth or raise a baby in the streets!

There was one thing that would inhibit your life going forward with your husband. You were married to a blond haired, blue-eyed man with an athletic body. And you were impregnated by a skinny man with green eyes and dark curly hair. If you wanted to make your husband believe the child was his, you would have to come up with some genetic evidence.

Well, your mother had curly hair, so that could work in your favor. But the green eyes...perhaps those were descended from your father's side, yes, from the great grandfather you never got to meet, as he had died when your father was still small. Your husband would believe you, as he wouldn't have anything to disprove it.

Now, with your plan in your mind, all you had to do was sleep with your husband, to make him believe he impregnated you. The timeline of your fake pregnancy wouldn't line up with the actual one, but you knew that your husband could be fooled easily.

This could work for awhile, you thought, until you and Willy came up with another plan to run away together.

…….

You told Willy everything. You even mentioned that you would have to sleep with your husband for the plan to work. You didn’t want to have sex with him, but you had to at this point.

“I understand, y/n. And I’m not mad at you, but maybe I am little jealous that he will get to be inside you, I have to admit.” he looked down at his hands in his lap, pouting his lip a little, “He doesn’t deserve to be with you. Not in any way. You’re way too good for him.”

“You’re so sweet, honey. We will be out of this situation soon.” you caressed his cheek, smooth and soft to the touch, “You’ll have your own chocolate shop in no time and then, your own factory.” you put your hand on your stomach, “We believe in you, Willy Wonka.”

He grinned, putting his hand on yours, “I can’t wait to meet him, or her. The baby is going to be so beautiful, just like you.”

“I hope they have your curls.” you said, softly brushing your fingers through his silky locks.

Willy blushed, “I still can hardly believe it. I’m going to be a father.” he shook his head, then looked directly into your eyes, “And I’m going to give this child the life they deserve, and you too. Neither of you will have to want for anything, if I have something to say about it. We will have more than we’ve ever dreamed of, y/n.” he declared, leaning in to kiss you most tenderly.

“I’ve been thinking, and I really think that I can help you with the business side of things. You can be the chocolate maker and I’ll be your business partner. That way, it’ll be like we are truly in this together, Willy.”

He smiled from ear to ear, “Pinky promise? It’s the most solemn vow there is.” he held his pinky out and you tucked your own around his firmly.

“Pinky promise.”

…….

You were a little hornier than usual due to your pregnancy, so you and Willy got down to business straightaway after your important conversation. This rendezvous could also help you out by remembering it later in with your husband. Thinking about sex with Willy would make your reactions to Mr. Hudson more convincing.

As you lover went down on you, you threw your head back on the couch throw pillows. You moaned, nearing your orgasm already when Willy suddenly stopped licking. You looked down at him between your legs, “What is it, Willy?”

“Does being pregnant affect the way you taste? Because…” he licked his lips, pondering over your flavor, “you taste…salty, which is unusual, because you’re always sweet.”

You laughed, “I don’t know. I’m sure it can cause a little bit of a change.”

“Oh, okay.” he nodded, “You know, I’ve masturbated to the thought of eating you and chocolate at the same time.” he admitted.

“We can try it sometime, baby. Just keep going for now. I’m so close.” you loved how he felt comfortable enough to admit something so dirty to you, but all you wanted in that moment was for him to make come.

“Yeah, yeah! Right, sorry babe.”

You erupted just moments later and squirted in Willy’s face. You couldn’t get the image of him smirking with your juices on his lips out of your head. It came in handy when you had to seduce your husband later that night. Willy had a way of being encouraging.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey

[dixons-sunshine]

Accidents Happen | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: It wasn’t supposed to happen. Daryl was only picking you up from work. He didn’t want the night to end with the both of you in the hospital with no clue if you’d be okay.

Genre: Hurt/comfort.

Era: Pre Apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Blood, injuries, allusions to drunk driving, car accident.

Word count: 2.4k.

A/N: A few facts surrounding the rescue is probably not accurate. I didn’t have any internet while writing this so I winged it. Just a quick warning before you read! There are more than likely inaccuracies in this!

“Hey, Dar,” you greeted your husband with a smile, hopping into the old truck Daryl had taken to work for the day. You settled back into the worn leather, letting out a big sigh of relief. You were relieved that the day was over. Being at work at past seven pm should be illegal, you thought to yourself.

Daryl gave you a small smile. “Hey, Peach.” He started up the truck once he saw you were settled and pulled out of the parking lot. “Long day, huh?”

“God, you don’t even know the half of it,” you groaned. It had indeed been a long day; from parent-teacher conferences to meetings you couldn’t care less about, on top of having to break up multiple fights throughout the day, it was safe to say that you were exhausted.

Daryl chuckled and absentmindedly started chewing on his thumbnail as he pulled onto the back road that would make for a faster route back to your apartment than braving the traffic on the highway. “‘Least s’Friday. Two days’a freedom, huh?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Nope. I need to work on some stupid report. All the teachers have to. We need to have it done by Monday.” You sighed and reached for your husband’s hand and interlaced you fingers through his, something you subconsciously did whenever you noticed him chewing on his thumbnail.

Daryl rubbed his thumb over your knuckles affectionately. “Ya’ll be alright. I don’ have anythin’ planned for the weekend anyways so I’mma be at yer beck and call. Anythin’ ya need, okay?”

You smiled at him. However, before you could say anything, the flashing of another car’s lights caught your attention. The car was in the wrong lane; it was beelining straight for Daryl’s truck. “Shit! Daryl, look out!”

Your words barely registered in the air before Daryl was gripping the steering wheel, trying to swerve out of the maniac’s way. However, by doing so, Daryl lost control of the vehicle, and the car swerved away from the road and into the treeline.

The last thing that you remember was an immense feeling of dread. And then...

It all went black.

Daryl gasped as he regained consciousness. His mind was hazy. His head was pounding. His body was aching, and he very quickly became extremely aware of the fact that he was pinned beneath a piece of debris. What had happened? Why the hell wasn’t he at home? Why was he still in his truck? Why was he pinned beneath his truck’s dashboard?

However, as his mind started to catch up with him, he became acutely aware of what had happened. Another car had been driving on the wrong side of the road, forcing him to have to swerve his truck. The same truck Merle had given to him years ago. The same truck he had used to pick you up from work.

Daryl’s eyes widened and he quickly looked over to his right, praying for the first time in his life. However, he had no idea if his prayers were answered when he saw the state you, the love of his life, were in. You were unconscious, with blood noticably gushing in rivers from your head.

“Shit, Y/N!” Daryl called to you hoarsely, a sharp pain shooting through his upper body when he tried to turn and reach you. He probably had a broken rib. A bruised one, if he was that lucky. “Y/N, oh my god. Darlin’? Peach, please wake up,” he called desperately. He tried his hardest to get to you, but with his body being pinned beneath the dashboard, his attempts were proven to be futile.

To say Daryl was terrified would be an understatement. Other than the pain shooting from his ribcage when he tried to move and the incessant pounding in his head, he was relatively fine. You, on the other hand, looked terrible. He didn’t know what to make of the fact that he couldn’t seem to wake you. His mind was wandering to places he didn’t like. He wouldn’t let his mind accept that you were dead. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t survive if you passed away. The mere thought of having to bury you sent his mind into a spiral, and he started hyperventilating. “Oh god, Peach, please talk to me. Please!”

“Sir, please calm down. Everything is going to be alright.”

The sound of someone’s voice had Daryl snapping his head back to look to his left. His cerulean eyes locked with what appeared to be a police officer, two firemen standing next to him. As Daryl’s mind started to process this new bit of information, he realized that a bunch of police vehicles and an ambulance surrounded the area, as well as a few news reporters. Fucking vultures, Daryl thought about the reporters as his eyes flickered back to the police officer. However, in his place, he found two paramedics, carrying a stretcher. Daryl had barely even realized that the dashboard had been lifted from him. However, before the paramedics could lift him onto the stretcher, Daryl was resisting.

“Nah, get her first,” Daryl basically pleaded with the men in front of him. “Get her first. Please. Take care’a her first.”

“Sir, please remain calm. Just focus on your breathing, okay?”

“Get her first!” Daryl exclaimed as he felt his breathing become more erratic. He was pushing the hands of the men off of him. “God, please. Don’ let her die. Please.”

One of the paramedics signalled something over his shoulder, and soon, the door to your side was being pried open and two other paramedics were tending to you and lifting you out of the car and onto a separate stretcher. Daryl let out a sigh of relief. Good. You were being taken care of. He could relax somewhat. However, his relief was short-lived when the paramedics started moving at a more frantic pace, his worry reappeared.

“What? What’s wrong?!” Daryl exclaimed in a panicked tone. Please don’t let her die, Daryl silently begged to whatever higher power was willing to listen to him.

“Sir, please remain calm. We’ll do everything in our power to ensure your wife’s well-being,” one of the paramedics reassured him. He then beckoned the other paramedic closer and together, began to lift Daryl onto his own stretcher.

Daryl didn’t fight back this time. There was no use to do so. You weren’t in the car anymore. You were being wheeled away to the ambulance. His only option at that moment in time was to co-operate. You’d want him to. He knew that.

As he was wheeled into the ambulance—thankfully the same one that you were in—he turned his head to look at you. The sight that beheld him made him want to burst into tears, but he didn’t. He needed to be strong and hope that your stubbornness prevailed in the face of death, that you’d flip death the bird and live to see another few decades.

You had to be fine. You just had to.

“M’not sure. I think it was a blue car? Was definitely a blueish-black car. One’a the headlights had this weird ass green colourin’ to it and the hood had its paint scraped off. Was white underneath, I think. M’sorry. S’all I remember.”

“It’s okay. Every bit of information helps. We’ll try our best to track the perpetrator down,” a police officer—Deputy Henderson or Hallmark or something—told Daryl, sending him his version of a reassuring smile.

To be quite honest, Daryl could hardly believe that he had retained even that slightest bit of information on the asshole that had caused the car wreck. Everything had happened so fast. Everything had gone to hell in a mere second.

Daryl nodded at the officer and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “S’it alright if I go now?”

The deputy nodded in understanding. “We’ll be sure to keep you updated. Go be with your wife.”

With that, Daryl turned around and walked back towards room 207—the room where you were laying unconscious. As Daryl slowly lowered himself into the chair next to your bed, an action he had done since late the previous evening, ever mindful of his bruised ribs—one lucky thing that had come from the accident, a mere bruised rib—and leaned forward to gingerly take your hand in his, and that was the position he stayed in for nearly two hours. According to the doctors, you would be alright. You suffered from a broken leg, a really horrible concussion, multiple bruises and two deep cuts that needed stitches, but you were otherwise okay.

Daryl didn’t believe in miracles, but in that moment, there was no other word that could describe it. You had looked terrible when the paramedics had rolled you into the ambulance, and Daryl had been convinced that the injuries you had sustained would be far more lethal. It was truly a miracle that you had gotten of relatively okay. However, Daryl still got off better than you, and he felt terrible about that. He would much rather have been suffering in that bed in your place than have to witness you he hurt ever again.

“If you think any harder, you’ll burn a hole right through your head.”

Daryl’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice. A wave of relief crashed over him, and had it not been for the state you were in, he would have crushed you to him in a hug. However, he settled on tightening his grip on your hand, his cerulean blue eyes staring deeply into your own. “Yer awake,” he whispered, almost disbelievingly.

You nodded and sent him a small smile, albeit a little strained due to the pain that shot through your body when you tried to move. The drugs pumping through your system helped numb most of the pain, but not all of it, however. “I’m awake,” you confirmed, lacing your fingers through his, just like you had done the night before. However, once your eyes focused more, you could see the very prominent bruising on his face and around his eye, making you gasp. “Oh my god, Daryl... What happened?”

Daryl sighed and looked down at the bed, intentionally shielding his injury from you as to not make you worry more. “Car accident,” he began to explain in a quiet tone of voice. “Some asshole was drivin’ in the wrong lane. I had to swerve and then lost control’a the truck. We crashed into a tree.”

You frowned and looked at Daryl in concern. “Are you okay? That bruise—”

Daryl involuntarily let out a small chuckle at your concern. Leave it to you to worry more about other people than yourself, even when you were supposed to worry about yourself. Some things never change. “Yeah, m’fine, Princess. I promise.” Daryl stopped for a moment, swallowing at the lump that formed in his throat, before continuing. “M’so goddamn sorry, Sweetheart. I didn’t mean to cause all’a this.” He gestured to your battered and bruised body for added emphasis. “I was an idiot. I should’a jus’ drove into the other lane. I shouldn’t’a swerved into the fuckin’ treeline. M’so sorry. I—”

“Stop apologizing,” you cut him off with a stern yet gentle voice. “It’s not your fault, you hear me?” Daryl went to protest, but you continued before he could. “It is not your fault. You were placed in an impossible situation and you didn’t have time to think of a plan. You had to act fast, and you did. Imagine if you hadn’t swerved and we collided with that car. We would’ve been worse off. Sure, I’m a little broken and bruised in some places, but I’m fine. I’m alive. There’s absolutely nothing to feel guilty over. You understand?”

Daryl understood. He just didn’t really believe it. However, he wasn’t about to start an argument with you when you were in such a fragile condition. Besides, deep down, Daryl could admit that there was some truth to your words. But he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself until that asshole that caused this was caught for his crimes.

Daryl brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your knuckles. “Okay,” he finally conceded. “M’jus’ real glad yer alive. When I woke up in the truck and saw ya passed out and ya wouldn’t wake up... I thought I had lost ya.” Unwillingly, a few tears fell from your husband’s eyes. He didn’t even notice.

Your heart ached for Daryl. Had the roles been reversed, and he was the one laying in that bed, you’d probably have reacted the same way. You gently rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, silently willing the man to look at you. “I’m here. It’s gonna take a whole lot more than that to take me away from you, I promise.” When Daryl didn’t respond, you took it upon yourself to attempt to lighten up the air. You could tell your husband needed a distraction. “You think they’ll give me an extension on that report? I’m not gonna have it done by Monday.”

By some stroke of luck, that had managed to get a small smile from Daryl. He shook his head and looked at you affectionately. “If they don’t give ya that extension, m’personally gonna shoot each and every one’a ‘em.”

You chuckled and sent him a small smile. “I love you so much, you know that?”

Daryl’s smile turned more genuine at your words. “I love ya more, Sunshine.” Before you could respond with your typical “impossible” or “I love you the most”, Daryl’s phone rang. It was the deputy from earlier. Frowning, he answered the phone. “Hello?”

You couldn’t hear what the other person was saying, but if Daryl’s suddenly relieved facial expression was anything to go off of, it was good news. The conversation was short and to the point, and when the call ended, you spoke up. “Who was that?”

“Was the deputy,” Daryl explained, a small smile on his face. “They got the son of a bitch.”

You smiled at him and beckoned him over for a hug. Daryl complied and very gently, almost as if you’d break under any sort of pressure, hugged you. Sure, the two of you would have to go and identify the man they had captured’s car, but there was no doubt in Daryl’s mind that the man responsible would soon be behind bars. For once, the legal system hadn’t failed him. You’d get the justice you deserve.

And for the first time since everything had gone down, Daryl was at peace.

[buckysgrace]

14… Bills in his tank top fixing stuff around your apartment on a hot summer day and you just follow him around pretending to help but really you’re ogling him and trying to get his attention but he thinks you’re really interested in how the spark plugs work, or that kitchen drain, or the washing machine 🤭🤣😋

Billy Hargrove x gn!reader, prompts by @urfriendlywriter

CW: None, suggestive content <3

Your apartment was cheap, probably because it was a fixer upper. A real fixer upper. Many of the walls desperately needed a fresh coat of paint, some of the kitchen sink only worked if you hit it in a certain manner and the promise of a working washer and dryer in every unit had been a lie. It never worked. And Billy had had enough.

“Can you hand me the wrench?” Billy asked, snuggled tight into the little space behind the washer. He’d already removed the dryer, scooting it out of the way in a manner you had quite enjoyed. Suddenly you couldn’t protest over his stubbornness in calling anyone for help.

His muscles flexed, being shown off from the little white tank top he was wearing. It was loose on him, but it dipped down far enough that you were able to make out the silhouette of his muscles. His hair was pulled back, held out of his face by one of the scrunches he’d take from you.

“Uh,” You turned away from him, picking up the ones you saw immediately into your fist, “Which one?” You asked seriously, still feeling distracted as his blue eyes shot towards the way you were holding them. You were definitely thinking about holding something else.

“This one.” He said with a chuckle as he slowly pulled it free, his thick fingers pulling it from your grasp as his blue eyes just barely glimpsed at you. He was focused. Damn him.

“What’s it called?” You hummed as you moved in a little closer, inhaling the scent of his cologne and musk. Despite being so sweaty, he still smelt good. Or perhaps you were just losing your mind as you watched the way his fingers began to work once again.

“A pipe wrench,” He chuckled as he just briefly glanced to you, “I think I need to tighten the hose, maybe replace the fucker if this doesn’t work.” He explained to you, despite you having no clue of what he was meaning. Regardless, you didn’t want him to stop.

“Which would take longer?” You moved your hands to his strong hips, sighing at just how sweaty he was as you feigned being interested in what he was working on.

“What?” He looked at you curiously, raising his eyebrows a bit as you observed the beads of sweat across his forehead. You wanted to lick it all off, “I guess replacing it. Why?” He narrowed his eyes for a moment, like he knew you were up to something. You grinned sweetly.

“No reason.” You said with a nod of his head as you started to watch him again, eyes greedily drinking in the way his muscles moved. You had a strong urge to bite him, but had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate that.

“You interested in all this?” He grumbled out the question, still sounding too distracted to look at you. You played your cards slowly, drifting your fingertips underneath his shirt and causing him to stall.

“Uh,” You paused for a second as a cheeky smile spread across your lips, “Something like that.” You giggles as you admired the feeling of his warm skin against your own. If he wanted to get hot and sweaty, you had a much better idea of how to do it.

“Pervert,” He laughed playfully as he leaned forward to kiss your warm forehead, “Now make yourself useful and get me the pliers.” He remarked, placing a swift smack against your ass before he was back to work. You mumbled as you began to search for the tool, determined to get a piece of him as soon as he was finished.

[just-wrting]

Feeling Fangs Part 3

Title: Feeling Fangs Part 3

Pairing: Charlotte Katakuri x Wife!Reader 18+

Word Count: 5.2k

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You and Katakuri end up saying, and doing, what’s on your minds.

A/N: I thought about not putting smut in this, but since I had originally planned the trilogy with it getting smuttier as it went on, I kept it. I don’t think there will be a part 4 unless people want one, but there might be little add ons of things I wanted to put in but didn’t.

You look at the boxes with suspicion. After opening them, you decided to study what was in the boxes, looking for clues. It took some time taking each box apart, laying each piece in a vertical line on the dresser. There isn't anything else in the box, just the dainty jewelry.

You pick up the necklace and watch as the chain slips through your fingers with ease. The color suits you perfectly, it's something you would buy for yourself if you had the money. It's clearly expensive, the card in the box labels the gemstone as authentic. Whoever bought it must be fine with spending such a large quantity of berries on you.

You place the necklace back in the box. Nothing appears out of place with any of it so maybe you should wear it, but you can't bring yourself to do that without knowing who it's from. Should you try hunting down the jeweler and asking who bought them? It's a terrible idea, though slightly tempting.

Sighing, you put the boxes back together. There's no point in thinking too hard about it since your husband knows who gave these to you. You debate on the idea of it being a gift from him. As unlikely as it seems, part of you wants them to be from him. Even if you'll feel guilty for not realizing sooner.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you think back to what proper conversations you've actually had with him. He's always been polite and attentive when you talk, never really pushing for more than you give. It made sense that you opened up to him. Not to mention he's always been attractive.

The guilt starts to creep in the more you think about it. Was he just being nice since you were forced to get married or was it something more? What about all the times that he checked up on you like the time you went to your father's funeral and got attacked? Did he have feelings for you or was he trying to make the most of the situation?

You fall back into the covers, curling into a ball. Thinking about this makes your chest hurt in ways you didn't think you'd ever feel. It's your fault he's stuck with you and he's been doing his best to deal with it. Meanwhile, you sometimes sit around and feel a bit sorry for yourself that you got caught up in an arranged marriage because of your father. You wouldn't change who you're married to anymore, but that doesn't change the feelings you've had in the past.

Shoving your head into the pile of pillows, you try to stop thinking about it. Nothing's going to get resolved by feeling bad all alone. You need to wait until you can talk to Katakuri about it before you can deal with these feelings. Even if it's confusing and frustrating. Even if you'd rather pretend like these feelings don't exist.

The door clicks as it opens and you groan. It's probably just someone else here to bother you as it has been for the past few days. You wish people would stop bothering you with ridiculous things like asking you to have your husband show up at certain things so they can be happy. Why can't they just leave him alone?

Pulling the pillow from your head, Katakuri looks down at you. You smile softly, reaching out for him.

"Come here," you mumble. "I missed you."

His gaze softens as lays down next to you. Reaching up to touch his face, you gently squish his cheeks making sure he's real. After a few pinches, he grabs your wrist and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

"There's no need for that," he scolds. "I am very much real."

You place your head against his chest, listening to his heart beat. "But I missed you. I just want to know that you're really here with me."

"I promised to come back, why would I leave you?"

You close your eyes as he starts to comb his fingers through your hair. "Because you're just stuck with me. I was scared of being hurt so you had to marry me of all people. You never had a choice in the matter, I'm sorry."

"Do you regret it?" His voice is soft, and you know that he might break depending on your answer. "If you weren't forced to marry into my family would you be happier?"

"I don't think so. Being here with you is the happiest I think I've ever been, so why would I want to be somewhere else?" You start to rub your thumb across his cheek. "I think you're perfect."

"Even though I'm not?"

You let out a laugh. "Katakuri, what do you think of me? Just this once, tell me your honest opinion of me."

"I-" he clears his throat. "I think you're perfect as you are."

You poke him. "But I'm not perfect. I'm not strong or capable of things nor do I have a lot of money or agency. I worry about a lot of things, I have terrible habits, not to mention we've barely started acting like we're married."

"That doesn't matter to me. I'm strong enough to protect you." He's earnest, like he's managed to get your point. "You don't need to worry."

"That's not my point, Katakuri," you laugh. "My point is that I'm not perfect, but you don't care. So it works both ways. You may not be truly perfect but you're perfect to me."

His eyebrows furrow for just a moment. "I love you just how you are."

"Huh?" You tilt your head back to look at him.

"I should change, I have blood on my clothes."

He gets up abruptly, making your head spin. Maybe you imagined what he had said, but the change in his demeanor leaves you questioning. What's the rush to get clean when he was just laying in the bed?

"If you say so..." you mumble to the air. "Though I'm not sure what the rush is."

You sit up and stare at the bathroom door. There's nothing better to do than wait for him to get back. Confronting him about it seems unfair, so maybe you should do something to put him at ease. You're not sure what would be best.

Thankfully he doesn’t take long, the door opening to reveal him wearing a fresh pair of leather pants. All of the extra spikey bits have been removed, meaning he won’t tear the sheets this time. It’s nice to see him just a little bit more casual, and you do your best to not stare at him. Not that staring at him would be weird, you are married after all.

“I think it would be nice to see you in other clothes sometime,” you say awkwardly trying to start a conversation. “Not that there’s anything wrong with what you wear now.”

“Like what?” His question seems genuinely curious.

Your face flushes in embarrassment. “I’m not sure, I didn’t think before I said that.”

Katakuri chuckles as he lays back down beside you. He pulls you close as you continue to ramble.

“To be fair, you’re really attractive so you’d probably look good in everything. Maybe you should try something that’s popular? Not that I know what’s popular. And like I said I think you like nice in what you currently wear, it would just be a nice change of pace.”

He starts to play with your hair again, just nodding and humming when he thinks he should respond. You feel more foolish with every word, but you can’t really stop yourself from talking.

“Maybe something formal? I recall that you didn’t wear a suit to our wedding which was unfortunate. I get that it was a bit rushed, but I would’ve like to see that.”

The soft smile doesn’t fade from his lips as he muses. “You sound like you wish to dress me up. Are you unhappy that I wear the same thing?”

“Not at all! I never thought I’d like someone with your type of aesthetic, but I don’t mind it. To be fair I never thought I’d be happily married to a pirate, but here I am. I suppose it helps that Ive fallen in love with you.”

Katakuri goes still. “What did you say?”

You process what you just said and turn away from him. Your body feels like it’s on fire from embarrassment. How could you just spit that out so casually? Was your mind truly not there anymore as you rambled on?

“D-don’t make me repeat it! If you heard me say it once that should be good enough.”

“Even if I want to hear you say it?” he asks, turning your head to face him.

Upon seeing the flush in his cheeks, you get the urge to tease him again. “I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear me say?”

Katakuri looks away and gives a small nod. He’s really flushed for a man who said ‘I love you’ first.

“I love you, Katakuri,” you say with a grin. “I love you a lot. I love a lot about you. Do you want me to tell you what I love about you?”

You watch as he gets even redder. He’s adorable like this, and you really enjoy making him flustered. There’s something so sweet about him getting red and embarrassed when you compliment him or kiss him.

“I love that you’re so cute like this. I love when you-”

He presses his lips to yours, silencing you with a kiss. It’s frantic and warm, leaving you wanting more. You reach up to pull him in for more, when he pulls back.

“Don’t tease me.” His voice is stern, but it doesn’t work on you, not when he’s this flustered.

“Or what? You’ll kiss me again? Maybe I want you to kiss me more.” Your voice is gentle. “I really enjoy kissing you.”

“Then I won’t do that.”

You stroke his cheek. “Then you’ll bite me?”

Katakuri gives you a pathetic attempt at a scowl. “No, you’d like that too much.”

Pretending to pout, you lean in to try and get a kiss. “So? I just like you, that’s all.”

He pulls you into his chest, and you listen to how fast his heart is beating. If it was beating any faster, you’re sure his heart would burst from his chest. Just from listening, you start to get flustered and wonder if your heart is beating just as fast.

“Is my heart beating as fast as yours?”

Katakuri looks down at you briefly before closing his eyes. “How would I know, do you expect me to check?”

“You could put your head on my chest and listen. Don’t you want to see if I’m embarrassed?”

You don’t need him to tell you that you are. You can already tell that you’re embarrassed. The only reason you can keep saying things like this is because you really just want to see more of the cute flustered side of him. He’s absolutely adorable like this, and it melts your heart each time.

He doesn’t answer but twists until he’s able to rest his head on your chest. The two of you have never cuddled like this, but it’s far more comfortable than you thought it would be. He’s the world’s prettiest weighted blanket, and you feel your worries melt away. You’ll make sure to do this more often, seeing as it’s so comforting. Though to be fair, just sleeping next to him is comforting.

You gently comb his hair, scratching at his scalp. There’s no sound from him, but he buries his head further in your chest. It’s like you’re nothing more than a pillow, and you chuckle at the thought. You realize he’s asleep when you do as he makes no movement to get you to stop.

Wondering what could’ve made him this tired, you softly tell him all the little things you like about him. Very little makes him exert a lot of energy, so he must’ve chosen to skip sleeping. Did he power through without sleep so he could come back sooner?

As you think, you let your eyes shut. You find yourself losing the battle against sleep due to being warm and comfortable. You couldn’t even move if you wanted to.

—-

You wake up to an empty room, the clock reading four in the morning. Whatever he went to go do must’ve been important, as there’s no note. Normally there is one, tucked under a fresh bag of berries. Today, there’s nothing on the nightstand. Maybe it’s a sign he’ll be back sooner than you expect, but that’s not always the case. Sometimes something urgent came up.

You decide to finally go through your clothes. It feels impossible to have accumulated this many clothes, but somehow you have. No matter how hard you think, you can only recall buying two or three things, so how did it pile up this much?

Unable to remember which section you put all the stuff that didn’t fit in, you resign yourself to trying everything on. Anything that doesn’t fit or looks bad on you will get tossed. You faintly remember seeing a secondhand store, so you’ll just put everything to the side and double check. Better for it to go to someone else considering some of it still has the tags on it.

As you struggle getting into a dress, you try to remember how you even got it. It couldn’t have been a gift, you don’t get many of those, but it’s not something you’d willingly pick out and buy. That when it hits you, almost literally. The price tag swings from the sleeve, boasting a hefty price. The shopkeeper must’ve made you try it on after noticing that your husband was buying you everything you tried on. How much money has this man spent on you?

As you toss it into the pile, you think back to the handful of times you’ve gone shopping with Katakuri. He’d pay for everything, buying you almost anything you looked at. Sometimes it was nice to get something you wanted, but clearly most of it just sits around wasting space. You’ll have a talk with him about his spending habits, but maybe you should try to sell some of this instead. Your mind spins at the thought of adding all the tags up.

Both breakfast and lunch come and go without any sign of his return. By now, you’ve tried on most of your clothes and emptied your closet quite a bit. Almost everything you brought with you from three years ago doesn’t fit, but that’s not really a surprise. Dessert is served with every meal including tea time, so it’s hard to stay away from the sweets. Not only that, but it has been three years and a lot changes during that time.

You’re left with the things you wear all the time such as the clothes that have become your style and pajamas, along with a few fancier clothes for important occasions. Nothing more than what you need honestly, and it feels so good to be free from the things you hated seeing in the closet. The only thing left for you to deal with are two elegant cream color boxes that you had shoved in the back. You know what they are, you’ve just never opened them.

The delicate ribbon slides away with a single tug, and you hesitate as you grip the lid. These are from your old friend, one sent for your wedding gift and the other for your two year anniversary. With any luck, she’ll send you another box in about four months. You only know what’s in them from the letter that was attached to each one.

Deciding that you can’t torture yourself with the apprehension, you rip the top of the box off and look inside. For something that’s been sitting in a box for years, it looks perfect. The color matches your eyes, and you hate to admit that you kind of want to try it on. You know it’ll flatter you, it’s something that looks good on all who wear it.

Holding it up to your body in the mirror, you feel your face flush. It may not be the most exposing thing you’ve ever seen, but it would be the most exposing thing you’ve worn. You can’t even remember the last time you wore a swimsuit, let alone lingerie.

The fabric is soft and slips on easily. It stretches, and somehow fits your proportions even after almost two years in the box. It’s surprisingly cute, and you hate that you feel that way. You know that she sent these to make you flustered, actually feeling that way is just letting her win. After all, she did suggest making the most out of being married to a pirate by getting as much money as you could, even telling you that you’re attractive enough to get it through your looks. Not that you ever felt the need to try, you’ve been spoiled without ever asking.

You give it a little spin in the mirror, before you start to feel silly. Why are you even flustered? You’re all alone in the room, and you have no real intention of wearing them for Katakuri. Not that you wouldn’t pay to see how flustered he gets, but you wouldn’t be able to look at him. All you are doing is finally seeing what ridiculous things your friend made and sent you. After you try them on, you’ll put them back in the box and shove them back into the dark where you’ll pretend they don’t exist.

Opening the other box reveals something that is somehow even more risqué than what you’ve currently got on. Most of the material is mesh and lace, with the most covering coming from a short zipper in the back. Just looking at it makes you feel like a pervert, and you hesitate after taking it from the box. Maybe this one should just get thrown into the fireplace and then you’ll be free.

With a sigh, you swap your outfit, struggling with the zipper. After what feels like an eternity that has your arms burning, you finally feel it go all the way up. You clasp the little hook at the very top to keep it together, and a sense of accomplishment flows through you. You managed to put it on and at least you can say you wore it.

Looking in the mirror, you realize that it shows more than you originally thought, and you grab your robe. The closer the robe is to you, the less you’ll have to explain if someone forgets to knock. This is the only time you’ll be grateful that your door is loud when it opens. At least you’ll have a split second to cover up.

You reach behind you, ready to take it off. The clasp takes a lot more finagling than you’d like, but eventually slips loose. You roll your shoulders as they burn with lack of use, waiting for them to stop hurting so you can get the zipper. Unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side, as the zipper refuses to go down.

Struggling to reach it, you try to look in the mirror to see why. The angle doesn’t help, as your hands and arms just block your view. Sweat beads on your forehead as you squirm. After a moment, you give up. You can’t reach the zipper, so you’ll just have to find a pair of scissors and cut it off.

As you pull open a drawer, you hear the click of the door. Scrambling for cover, you crouch behind the bed and peer over. You don’t want anyone to be entering the room, and you squeak when you see that Katakuri has come back. Of all the times to show back up, he picked now?

“Why are you hiding?” he asks, closing the door behind him.

Your face flushes even more than you thought possible. “I’m not hiding! I slipped so I’m resting.”

“Rest on the bed.”

“No. I’m fine on the floor.”

He starts to walk towards you, clearly unhappy. “Can you not get onto the bed? Let me help you.”

“No! Don’t move!” You hold out your hand. “Don’t come closer.”

“So you are hiding something.” His eyes narrow.

You break eye contact. “No, I’m not. The zipper broke.”

“What zipper?”

“The one on my clothes!” You gesture towards the closet. “I just don’t want you to see what I’m wearing.”

Katakuri pauses. “Do you really think it looks that bad?”

Finally giving up, you stand. “I don’t know!”

There’s a moment of silence as you try to not curl into a ball and disappear. How dare he come back and see you like this? It’s mortifying! Even if you’re married, it’s still something new to both of you.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” he chokes out, reaching for the door.

You cover yourself with your arms. “That just makes it weird! What are you going to say when someone asks why you aren’t in here? ‘Oh I saw my wife changing, I can’t see that.’ It’s weird.”

He refuses to look at you as you gesture around in confusion. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. We’re supposed to married, it’d be weird if you haven’t see me naked. Help me with the zipper.”

“What if I can’t get it? Then what?” He looks at you, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

You rub your arm, feeling self conscious. “I guess I can just cut it off. That probably easier than having you rip it.”

The two of you stand there, not meeting each other’s eyes. The tension in the room is thick, and you really wish you could disappear. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, and for once it’s bothering you. You wish he’d say or do something, anything. All you feel is embarrassed and foolish.

You slowly make your way around the bed, hugging yourself like you’re cold. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought of him seeing stuff like this, you just hadn’t imagined he’d just stand there like he was startled. Though you aren’t entirely sure what you had imagined happening in a situation similar to this.

Suddenly, you feel your feet leave the floor. Your back hits Katakuri’s chest as he sits you in his lap. The contact of his skin makes you burn up, and each breath you take is shallow. You feel like you might pass out from how nervous you are, and the way he’s holding you doesn’t help.

“So I can rip this off you?” His voice is low. “You won’t mind that?”

“I-I,” you stammer, unable to get any thought to form. “No? I mean, yes. I mean-”

The kisses on your neck are gentle as you string together random thoughts. You’ve lost all ability to think properly, your mind following instinct instead. Covering your mouth, you try not to whine as he touches your bare skin.

“You’re so pretty,” he says through kisses. “My pretty little wife.”

Katakuri’s fingers grip tightly onto your thighs, as he holds himself back. Each kiss brushes your skin softly, barely applying any pressure. Not that he needs to apply any pressure to set your skin on fire.

“P-please,” you whine. “Please help me. I need you, Katakuri.”

His fingers slide up to your cunt and slowly start to rub through your clothes. The thin mesh doesn’t dampen any of the sensation, and you let out a groan at the feeling. It doesn’t take long for you start subconsciously rolling your hips. You never realized just how badly you wanted him, but it shows now.

Despite your muffled please for more, his touch remains slow. It feels like he’s exploring your body, his other hand reaching up and squeezing your breasts. It’s an agonizing pace, slow and steady. If you weren’t so desperate, you wouldn’t mind, but right now you need him.

You gasp as gently nips the pulse point on your neck, his fangs not breaking the skin but leaving goosebumps across it. Refusing to move your hands from your mouth, you let every little sound tumble into your palm and hope he doesn’t hear. This clearly frustrates him, as after a few moments, he pins your wrists behind your back.

“Don’t hide from me,” Katakuri pleads. “I need to hear you.”

You hear the sound of mesh ripping as he pulls it to the side, stroking a finger through your folds. Each time he circles your clit, you let out a whimper. It’s a dizzying combination as he gently fondles your breasts and kisses all over your neck all while playing with your cunt. You know he’s watching you intently, studying every reaction to see what makes you feel best.

Unable to control your breathing, you lean your head back as your chest heaves. You can’t even focus on trying to steady it as he pushes a finger inside. The thought of ruining his gloves makes you feel dirty, but if he knows that he’s ruining them, he doesn’t care. Even the sound of him fingering you is lewd, but you’ve practically lost the ability to feel ashamed

You should’ve realized sooner just how large he actually is. Just the feeling of his finger is more than you’ve ever thought to try, each time he pushes it in, you feel fuller than ever before. Within seconds, you feel the tension in your core grow and threaten to snap.

“So pretty, such a pretty wife,” Katakuri praises. “So perfect.”

At the sound of his praise, you feel yourself come undone. Your body tenses and shakes as you cum, uncontrollably moaning as you do. There’s no stop to his pace as you climax, leading you to squirm and whine.

You watch as he makes another arm to hold your hips in place, continuing to finger you. At some point, you loose track of how long you’re like this, sitting in his lap while he explores every part of you. It’s almost relentless as he touches every single sensitive spot. You can’t even keep track of how many times you reach climax, just knowing that you’re absolutely soaked now.

“Katakuri, please,” you moan. “Too much, just please…”

He kisses you jaw. “Please what? What do you want me to do?”

“Please be gentle. You’re so big.” You look at him through half lidded eyes. “I want you to try.”

Something inside him snaps, and his eyes darken. With one swift motion, your face is buried in the sheets, and you can feel him grind against your ass. You whine as he grips your hair tightly, your body protesting the change in position. It’s only for a split second, before he loosens his grip trying to have some control over himself.

It no longer matters as you feel him line his tip up with your entrance. He pushes in slowly, stopping every time you grip the sheets tightly and whine. You already know it’s not all going to fit, but that’s not stopping him from trying. Grateful for the warm up, you’re surprised that it doesn’t hurt as much as you were worried about.

Once you can’t take anymore, the two of you stay still. You pant for air, desperate to regain some sense of control over your mind. Even though you know it’s futile and as soon as he starts moving your brain will go back to mush. It doesn’t really matter, you feel so good you couldn’t care less how lewd you’re being.

Katakuri waits for some sort of signal that you can keep going, so as soon as you do your best to look back at him with pleading eyes, he starts to move. It’s the same slow pace as before, but this time you don’t mind. Every time he pulls out, you feel so empty before he pushes right back in. You feel warm and tingly, each thrust going deeper than you even realized it could.

You close your eyes and relax, letting him have full control over how you move. It doesn’t take long for him to pick up the pace thrusting into you at a speed you’d never be able to do on your own. Moaning and panting, you grip the sheets tightly as your over sensitivity brings you to an orgasm faster than you expected.

His pace is unrelenting, not giving you a second to recover. By now, you’re drooling into the sheets, unable to close your mouth and stop moaning. There hasn’t been a time that you’ve felt this good, unable to reach or do some of the things he’s been doing.

Your walls ache from the amount of times you’ve cum, and it’s almost getting painful. Despite the amount of fluid dripping from you, you can still feel everything. Each thrust hits your cervix, and causes you to moan louder.

After a few more thrusts, you feel his hand grip your hair tighter. You whine from the sensation, not fully realizing what’s happening or why he’s stopped. It’s not until he lets you go and pulls out that you realize that he finished. You don’t move, too sore to even attempt to. There’s a moment of nothing, before he scoops you up and takes you to the bathroom.

You lean against the cabinet, your eyes constantly falling shut as he draws a bath. Attempting to protest a bath, you mumble something but can’t even catch what you’re saying. That doesn’t faze him as he frowns slightly at you.

“I’ll bathe you, so you don’t have to worry,” Katakuri reassures you. “You’re sticky.”

You give a weak scowl and grumble. He doesn’t budge, but gives you a soft kiss.

“You can sleep after, I’ll even change the sheets if you’d like.”

You pout, but he ignores it. He’s gentle as he tears off the sweat soaked lingerie and pulls you into the tub. Steam billows from the surface and you protest against the heat. It feels like you might be boiling, but no amount of squirming gets you out of his arms.

The soap lathers easily and smells faintly floral, a nice change from all the sweet smelling things. You wince every time you’re moved, but it doesn’t get you out of the bath sooner. You wish it did, all you want is to fall asleep.

“Almost done. It goes faster if you don’t squirm.”

You put your head on his chest. “Tired.”

Katakuri traces your jaw before gently rubbing soap on your face. “Just a few more minutes.”

You stay still as he rises the soap from your body and pulls you out of the tub. The past twenty minutes passed in a haze, so you can’t recall if he even washed up, but you can tell he did since he’s still got soap on him. Every touch is gentle, like he’s worried about you breaking.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you mumble as you try to hold his hand. “I’m fine.”

Katakuri gives up on making sure you’re dry and picks you back up. You don’t even make it to the bed, passing out in his arms. Every part of you is exhausted, and there’s no where you’d rather be.

[upon-a-starry-night]

There's this idea in my head that's causing real brain rot. So that one time, when Connor and Hank are on the rooftop, and he almost kills Hank? Can I request something like that, but with an f! reader? Maybe f! reader is on the deviant's side, and Amanda has already taken over, as a result, fight ensues. Major hurt/comfort. You choose how this ends. Thank you in advance 😭

Connor Rk800 x Gender Neutral Reader!

DBH Masterlist Main Masterlist

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, minor violence

A/n: I always thought Connor should’ve had another chance to become deviant at this rooftop scene so this is the perfect opportunity to write it! I hope you enjoy!

-

The night air is cold as you step out onto the roof, a distant alarm blaring as it fights to be heard against the harsh wind. 

You flinch and pull your coat tighter, watching your breath fog out in front of you, snow scattering in every direction. It’s a night you’d rather be spending in the warmth of your home, curled up with a good book and good company. Unfortunately, your good company chose to go bad cop on you and now you’re out here trying to get him back.

You can already feel your fingers growing numb and you regret not bringing gloves up here with you. As if life being a detective wasn’t hard enough.

You squint at the light illuminating from the giant Android billboard and instead focus your gaze on the figure near the edge of the roof. It’s the last place you want to see him right now. On this roof- on the wrong side of history. Making a mistake you know he’ll regret.

It’s all you can do to hope you’ll be able to convince him to come back. 

You don’t know what happened. One day he’s kind and funny and even a little flirty and the next he’s cold and calculating. Had he just been pretending the whole time? Did he tell you all those sweet things just to eliminate you as a threat to his mission? 

Whatever the reason, even if he was faking it with you you weren’t faking it with him. Over the past few months, you’ve formed a genuine connection with Connor. A connection you thought was more than just partners working on the same case. 

You think back to all those late nights Connor stayed up with you as you wrote your reports, cracking jokes so the police precinct felt a little less cold and dim. The time he helped you move your furniture after your previous apartment almost got broken into. The little moments where he’d walk you to your car no matter the time, or go out of his way to pick you up a coffee.

That couldn’t have been fake, right? Nobody went through that much effort just to make sure you were friends. It was because of the way he treated you and cared for you that you found yourself in love with him in the first place.

You sucked in a sharp breath and shook that thought from your head. You’d only just realized it last night. You’d planned to tell him today but something about him was different, he didn’t look at you the same way, though his body still lingered near yours. Then you’d gotten the call this evening about where he was headed and you knew you had to stop him.

The Connor you knew wouldn’t do this. But maybe the Connor you knew wasn’t real…

“You don’t want to do this Connor” He doesn’t even flinch at your voice. He probably heard you from the second you got there and was just waiting for you to say something. 

Perhaps that was a sign? Your Connor was always polite with you.

“You shouldn’t be here, Detective.” His voice bites at you with more coldness than the night air and it makes your heart sting. It’s a tone you’ve only ever heard him use with suspects or Gavin. Even when you first met and he seemed devoid of emotion his voice was warm, friendly. What happened?

Was it something you had done? Something you said that gave away your feelings about him? He was built to read body language and pick up on subtle clues after all. Had he known even before you? Was he disgusted by you? That a human like you could fall so easily for an Android?

He shifts the position of his gun, getting a better shot on Marcus and you take another step forward, if you could just reach him then maybe-

“You won’t stop me from accomplishing my mission.” Him and his stupid mission. It’s all he ever used to talk about before he started being open with you. You thought you’d become more important than his mission. Guess not.

“What mission Connor? What? You think you shoot this guy and it’s all over? The whole rebellion falls down? Is that it?” You scoff, shoving your hands into your coat pockets to try and garner some warmth. “You shoot Marcus, someone else will just take his place. Do you really want to spend your life hunting down Androids until you’re the only one left with a soul?”

He doesn't speak but you see the way he squeezes the gun tighter, your words clearly having an internal impact. 

“Come home Connor,” You say it out of instinct, your home had become a shared space with Connor, a place he knew you’d always welcome him into. “We can find a good movie and-”

“And what? Huh? Sit there and pretend like we could be anything other than a human and a machine?” His words cut deep, slicing your heart open and revealing all the ugly fears that had been festering in your brain. The urge to throw up fills your stomach but you push the feeling down.

What Connor thought you could or couldn’t be didn’t matter right now. Even if it hurt, you had to make sure you stopped him no matter what.

He places his finger on the trigger and you know you have to resort to the last thing you wanted to do. The last thing you thought you’d ever do to Connor. You pull out your gun and aim it at his back. Emotions well up in your throat as tears threaten to break free

“Get away from the ledge” You wish he couldn’t hear how your voice trembles but you know he does. You don’t know if you have the gall to shoot him and he knows that. Still, he stands up and turns around to face you anyway.

It’s the worst sight in the world- the image of him in front of the barrel of your gun. His eyes are cold and unrecognizable, and you take note of the fact that he doesn’t drop his gun. A strong breeze roars through and you shiver, watching the wind ruffle his hair.

The same hair he used to let you brush your fingers through as you spent hours talking on your couch. His head in your lap, his eyes closed, his LED spinning blue, and a content smile on his face. You remember wanting to take a picture of how cute he looked then, just like a happy puppy. 

Oh, how things change. 

Your hand shakes as you hold the gun, maybe from the cold, maybe from the anguish, probably from both. 

“Go home detective. It’s not my mission to kill you but this is none of your business” You nearly flinch at the word ‘kill’ but manage to hold your resolve. You couldn’t show weakness in front of this version of Connor.

You scoff, “None of my business? You call you killing an innocent man none of my business?”

“It’s not a man. It’s a machine-”

“He has a family! He has people who care about him and depend on him! He has a partner and friends! Like you and I were-”

“We weren’t anything but coworkers Detective. If you thought we were more, you were mistaken.” He cuts you off with the words you feared to hear more than anything. Words he promised you he’d never say when he told you “I’ll always be here for you detective” with that stupid sunny smile of his.

Wiping a tear with your shoulder, you shake your head as you try to get a read on him.

”you don’t mean that”

“I think I do” He tilts his head, in a way you always found cute but now just find menacing. 

“I can’t let you kill that man Connor” You tighten your hold on your gun and he narrows his eyes, sizing up whether or not he thinks you’ll shoot before going to put his gun down.

Your body relaxes slightly only to be met with the full force of his gun being thrown at you. You try to block it but it crashes into your arm, causing you to hiss out in pain. In the next second Connor is coming at you, disarming your gun and throwing it across the roof. 

You try to throw a punch but he swiftly blocks it, grabbing hold of your shoulder and throwing you to the ground. The impact is harsh and the cold only makes it worse. You can already feel the nasty bruise it’s going to leave but you don’t allow yourself time to dwell on it.

Grabbing a metal grate from nearby you launch it at Connor and use it as a moment of distraction, rushing towards your gun near the ledge of the roof with Connor hot on your heels.

Connor sweeps your legs from under you as you’re inches from the gun, sending you crashing to the ground in a fall that stings your palms. At least it helped that your hands were practically numb from the cold. 

Army crawling as hurriedly as you can, you manage to swipe your gun as it teeters precariously off the edge of the roof. In a motion that sends pain through your injured shoulder, you manage to flip onto your back and point your gun at Connor just as he stands directly over you. 

For a brief second, you can’t help but think that Connor was taking it easy on you, but then he smirks like an asshole and your flame of hope dies out

“You really gonna shoot me, detective?” The cocky disbelief in his eyes is the most emotion you’ve seen from him all day and in a moment of weakness, you hesitate because you’ve seen that look when Gavin throws his fits about Androids or when the other detectives think they can do his job better than him. Cocky was an emotion Connor didn’t often show but it always made you laugh.

He takes advantage of your moment of hesitation, twisting your gun from your hands and throwing it off the roof. It lands with a solid ‘clack’ in the snow below. You try to sweep his feet but he blocks your legs with his arm, grabbing them and pushing them to the ground. He reaches down and grabs you by the collar of your sweater, angling you so that you're dangling over a fall that would definitely kill and for the first time, you truly feel scared of Connor.

You struggle in his grip to no avail, eventually giving up as you stare into his eyes for what might be the last time. You feel tired and angry and heartbroken and you don’t have the energy to fight him anymore. You let the wind rage around you as you hold out your arms, daring him to drop you.

“Moment of truth Connor…what are you gonna do?” You struggle to catch your breath as his LED violently flashes red. “You gonna kill me for trying to be a good friend?” You wait for anything to happen, for him to throw you off the roof or respond but all he does is stand there staring blankly. His LED goes crazy, flashing from red to blue to yellow and back again, like he’s having some sort of internal struggle. 

His grip on you seems to loosen a bit and you inhale sharply “C-Connor” You cry out desperately and he gasps, his grip tightening as he pulls you into his body and clings tightly to you. He takes a few steps back from the roof, forcing your body to move with his as he brings you both back to safety.

His arms wrap around you in a tight embrace and you’re unsure what to feel until you hear his pained voice

“I’m sorry.” It’s more raw than you’ve ever heard it before and soon enough tears are streaming down your face as your arms reciprocate his hold. His hands clench tighter to your jacket at the sound of your sobs. “I’m so sorry i-” His voice breaks off and his chest starts shaking and you look up to see tears streaming down his face.

You’d never seen him cry before, you didn’t even know he was capable of it- and from the looks of it neither did he.

“A-amanda- she took control and I couldn’t-” His eyes refuse to focus on you, staring at the swirling snow behind you, so you release one arm to cup his face and bring his gaze down to yours. “I tried to kill you” He looks absolutely heartbroken at what he’s done and he quickly begins to scan you for injuries. His hands coming up to cup your jaw and tilt your face this way and that.

You manage a smile through your tears as you realize you have your Connor back. Relishing the gentle way he holds your face and the concern that never leaves his eyes as he looks over you. 

“No harm no foul” You attempt a joke and Connor’s lips quirk up for the briefest moment before his gaze zeros in on your shoulder and he frowns

“I hurt you” You pursed your lips, unable to deny that fact but not wanting to ruin the moment. Reaching up, you wipe the tears from his cheeks with a gentle hand, watching as he leans into your touch.

“It’ll heal.” You tell him instead, just happy to be bruised and safe rather than dead. “What happened back there?” He looks like he wants to say more about your injury but after reading the look in your eyes he drops it.

“ I broke free. I was stuck in this frozen garden for so long. I couldn’t control my own body or words but then I heard your voice and I had to save you” You lay your head on his chest once more, feeling the steady flow of Thirium pumping through his body, the cold long forgotten from your mind.

He rests his chin upon your head, pulling you into a hug once again. 

“You’re more important to me than any mission.” His voice trembles and it takes everything in you not to start crying again “I didn’t mean any of it- those awful things I said, I didn’t mean any of them… I Love you, Detective”

Your gaze snaps to Connors, a wide smile and a light blue blush dusting his cheeks. Those three words- three words ten minutes ago you were sure you’d never heard from him. You had to make sure you hadn’t misheard him 

“What?” your heart pounded in your chest

“I said I love you, detective” This was really happening. Connor loved you back. You couldn’t help the tears that fell at the genuine emotion in his voice.

“I love you too, Connor” A delighted laugh escapes you as you pull him in for a kiss, soft cold lips meeting yours. Sure this wasn’t your ideal confession but with Connor, nothing ever went as planned, and that was perfectly fine with you “Now let’s go home, it’s freezing up here”

-

A/n: peep me watching the roof scene over and over to get this right (and also just to admire Connor) ~ Starry

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: Escapades

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: everyone’s favorite grid family takes on their biggest challenge yet … an escape room

Series Masterlist

“Alright, who thought it would be a good idea to lock a bunch of F1 drivers in a room and expect them to work together to get out?” Charles grumbles, eyeing the cryptic clues scattered around the dimly lit space.

George smirks, picking up a coded message. “Well you’ve had plenty of practice trying to decipher Ferrari’s strategy lately, so maybe you’ve got an advantage here?”

The room erupts in laughter as Charles feigns a wounded expression. “Low blow, George! Do I not suffer enough already?”

Lando, fidgeting with what looks like an ancient artifact, suddenly blurts out, “Do you think this is like a button or something?” Before anyone can respond, there’s an audible snap and the artifact falls apart in his hands.

“Seriously, Lando?” Max exclaims, shaking his head in amusement. “First my trophy, now this? Hands off everything, please!”

You chuckle, patting Lando’s back consolingly. “It’s alright. Maybe breaking things is part of the puzzle?”

Lance, busy trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, adds, “At this rate, we’re never getting out of here.”

Mick, focusing on a puzzle piece, comments, “We’ve only got an hour, guys. Let’s get serious.”

Sebastian begins delegating. “Alright, George and Max, you handle the codes. Mick, Charles, focus on the physical puzzles. Lance, Lando — just ... try not to break anything else.”

As the room buzzes with activity, you can’t help but think that this is one of the best ideas you’ve had in a while. It’s hilarious watching these fiercely competitive drivers work together in a situation that doesn’t involve cars and tracks.

After a series of (mostly) successful problem-solving attempts, a loud buzzer sounds, indicating you’re out of time. The doors swing open, revealing a grinning staff member.

“You were only one clue away!” she exclaims, clapping. “Not bad for a first attempt!”

Max looks around the room, a smirk forming. “Well, if Lando didn’t break that artifact, maybe we would’ve made it.”

Lando throws his hands up defensively. “Hey! I added character to the room.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, making their way out. Another day, another adventure — this one off the track.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastian mutters, amusement evident in his eyes, as he steps into the living room. There are strings hanging from the ceiling, makeshift locks on the furniture, and “cryptic” clues pinned everywhere, like Look UNDER the couch, accompanied by a not-so-subtle arrow pointing downwards.

You, equally surprised and amused, chuckle. “What in the world happened here?”

Charles steps forward, barely containing his laughter. “Welcome to the Grand Prix Escape Room! Guaranteed to be at least 90% more escape-able than the one we failed at.”

George adds, pointing to a padlocked fridge, “I did the food clues. Trust me, they’re the most challenging.”

Max chimes in, “And Lando ... well, we didn’t let him touch anything breakable this time.”

Lando mock-pouts, “One little accident and suddenly I’m the family menace.”

Lance hands you a paper that reads The KEY to success is WHERE you eat BREAKFAST. He grins, “That’s my contribution. Top tier clue, right?”

Mick has a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I suggest you look in very obvious places. We wouldn’t want this to be too hard.”

As you and Sebastian navigate through the hilariously straightforward challenges — like the “hidden” key taped directly next to the padlocked fridge or the note on the oven saying THIS IS NOT A CLUE, just wanted to remind you we have pie — it becomes clear that this isn’t about the challenge at all.

It’s about laughter, family, and the simple joy of being together.

After an entertaining fifteen minutes, which involves Sebastian dramatically pretending to struggle with a code that's simply “1234,” you successfully escape.

Mick raises a toast with room temperature champagne (they forgot to place it in the fridge before it was padlocked), “To the greatest escape artists in the world!”

You laugh, “And to the best, most creative grid kids in the universe!”

***

You wake up to the soft chimes of your alarm, stretching lazily before noticing an envelope on your bedside table. Scrawled on it in mismatched rainbow crayons is Mission: Breakfast Heist.

Opening the note, you read:

Dear Y/N and Seb,

Your breakfast has been stolen! To get it back, follow the clues and embark on a thrilling adventure. Also, no cheating by ordering takeout!

The Breakfast Bandits (aka your grid kids)

Amused, you head downstairs, following a trail of strategically placed toast crumbs. In the kitchen, you find another note taped to the coffee machine: To get your morning brew, tell us a joke that’s new!

Sebastian, rubbing sleep from his eyes, joins you and declares, “Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged!” Mick appears from behind you, making both of you jump, and hands you two cups of coffee before backing away silently.

Chuckling, you move on to find that on the fridge, instead of a padlock, there’s a touchpad with a question on its digital display: What’s hot yet cool at the same time?

You ponder it for a moment, thinking of all the possible answers. Sebastian, catching on to the playful challenge set by the grid kids, smirks and says, “It’s the Iceman, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, with you playfully nudging Sebastian, “I always knew you thought Kimi was hot.”

Entering K-I-M-I on the touchpad, the fridge beeps in agreement and swings open, revealing a lavish breakfast spread and a note that reads: Breakfast is served! We might have kept it under lock and key but only to make it special. Enjoy!

From the doorway, the “Breakfast Bandits” applaud, their faces beaming with mischief.

Lance grins, “Took you long enough! And Seb, never knew you had a thing for Kimi.”

Charles joins in the teasing, “Seems like there are still some secrets in the paddock!”

Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes, “At least my secret doesn’t involve singing into a hairbrush every night before bed.”

Charles blushes as the room bursts into laughter. “Who told you about that?” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Lando, who’s trying hard (and failing miserably) to stifle his giggles.

Lando attempts to defend himself through his laughter, “It wasn’t me! But if we’re confessing, who knew that Seb’s haircare routine involved more products than all of ours combined?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Gotta keep the locks looking good, don’t I?”

Max interjects, “Well, if we’re on the topic of secrets, who wants to bet on how many stuffed animals Lando has on his bed?”

Lando gasps dramatically, “Betrayed by my own brothers! Next time, I’m hiding them all in George’s room!”

[redheadspark]

Prompt #2 with Azriel

Pls.

A/N - BEAUTIFUL! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Time

Summary - Azriel never thought he had the time for someone. Cassian disagrees.

Warnings - Just some cute fluff

“Come on, Az.  Let’s talk about.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Of course, there is!”

Az looked up from his makeshift desk, which was basically a piece of plywood that was blanking on top of two crates on either end.  He would get a better desk, or a legit desk if he wished to.  But he would rather use what he had than pay some money for something new and something he would barely use.  Maybe he was frugal, but he would rather be frugal than far too comfortable.  It was a running joke with the Inner Circle, how little Azriel would spend, and how he hated the concept of money.  Rhsyand was the opposite, though he used his spending on good things and for the better of those he loved.  Cassian just needed to learn how to handle money in general, if he was left to his own devices he would be broke within seconds.  

There, in his little broom closet of an office at the Townhouse, Azriel saw Cassian grin at him as he placed his pen down and kept his intense stare on Cassian, “I am far too busy for anything apart from work, especially with our upcoming negotiations with Tamlin and Spring Court.”

“Psh, that’s child’s play, and that dirtbag of a Highlord is nothing we can’t handle,” Cassian replied with a wave of his hand, “We have more important things at hand, including your love life.”

Azriel snorted and took his pen again, looking down at his paperwork that was in need of a look over and he scanned the paperwork once again.

“That is nonexistent,” Azriel explained.

“And that is the problem, especially since there is a clear candidate that can change that for you,” Cassian teased.  Azriel said nothing, but he knew exactly who Cassian was talking about.  It was the same person that was on the other’s mind who would be perfect for the Spymaster, the calm to his storm and the peace to his chaos.  

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Azriel hummed, writing a bit before flipping another page.

“Bullshit you don’t,” Cassian joked, “Being in a relationship and with someone you love actually makes someone…oh, I don’t know….more likable,”

“I don’t have time for a relationship—“ Azriel was about to say to him before Cassian clicked his tongue.

“That has nothing to do with anything I just said. Like at all!” He said back to the Spymaster.  Azriel had to pause then and look at the Illyrian Commander.  Cassian gave him a stern look, the kind that Azriel would get when he made a bonehead move.  Sometimes things did go over Ariel’s head from time to time, he was never one to pick up on regular social clues.  Perhaps he was too wired to be the Spymaster to simply be himself…what was himself anyway?  

Having a social life was never really part of his life, not for how long he was working with and for Rhysand.  He was far too busy to have downtime or hang out with friends, apart from the Inner Circle.  That was different, that was built on deep and intense relationships and friendships that made and shaped him.  But love?  Was there love meant for him?  Was there love meant to be in his life?

Did he want it?  Now that he thought about it.

“She’s coming over tonight for family dinner.  Nesta invited her, and as someone who will not go against his mate, I think it’s a great time to introduce yourself to her,” Cassian advised Azriel, who then leaned back in his chair and thought about it.  He did see you from time to time, you were good friends with Nesta since you asked Rhysand and Feyre to help start up the Velaris library.  You too were a bookworm, you loved reading books and saving the volumes that held history and stories that were meant to be told for centuries.  Of course, Rhysand agreed and gave the funding, along with the connections to build and jump-start the library.  Within months, Velaris Public Library opened to all the Velaris citizens and it was an instant hit.  

Azriel was there at the Opening Ceremony, seeing you beaming in pride as you spoke in front of the spectators.  Nesta was a partner in the project, standing next to you and clutching your hand in excitement since she too was enthralled with the notion of a library in Velaris.  Azriel was entranced by you from the start, there was no argument there.  But he also saw the thirst for preserving history and wanting to know more.  He loved that fire, that spirit, and yet it was laced with sincerity and kindness that was rare to see in the broken world around them.

“Come on, Az.  Live a little,” Cassian urged, to which Azriel finally cracked a smile.

“Oh, there you are Azriel! Come meet the guest of honor!”

“Honestly, I’m no guest of honor, Nesta.”

"Yes, you are! This is Azriel, the Spymaster himself. Azriel, come meet Y/N!"

You were sitting on one of the loveseats, holding a glass of wine in hand as Azriel came into the sitting room of the House of Wind.  After his talk with Cassian, Azriel felt as if he should be the one to officially meet you, though he was giving him some fear since he only knew you from afar.  He even tried to dress up decently, in a dress shirt and pants with his hair styled to be less rugged and more formal.  Perhaps he looked like he was trying too much, but at least he was putting in the effort.  

You were wearing a simple cream dress, though it was showing your curves in the right spots, and a shawl over your shoulders since there was still a bit of a chill in the air in Velaris.  Your hair, long and thick, was half up and down in a messy style but it suited you.  Azriel’s heart skipped for a long moment, you smiling up at him as you got up from the loveseat.  You two were smiling at one another, not noticing Nesta and Cassian watching from the side and somewhat hiding behind a pillar with their own smiles plastered on their faces.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” You said to him, holding out your hand for him to shake.  He took it instantly, your palms connecting and warmth was felt along your skin.

“You as well,” He said, your smile growing slightly.  

“See, told you that they were meant for each other!” Nesta whispered to Cassian as they watched you and Azriel sit together on the loveseat and start a conversation.  

“I know, baby.  I know,” Cassian hummed, kissing his mate on the cheek.

The End.

January Prompt Session

[verstappensrealwife]

Last Request - Fernando Alonso x Reader

Part 2/2 part 1 here. Angst. Fluff. Smut approx. 1900 words.

Warnings: Sex, P in V, oral (Fem receiving), swearing/cursing, drinking, being drunk

fernando alonso masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

You hadn't seen him since that night. Of course, you missed him, but you couldn't have him anymore. It had been almost 3 months and still he wouldn't get out of your head. You couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way he loved you, the way he held you, the way he listened to every word you spoke.

Your friends however, agreed you needed to move on- or at least get a rebound. You really weren't sure about leaving your bed, nor up for the idea of a cheap hook-up to distract you from the once love of your life, but you agreed to go out with them since you did need to get out your apartment for a little while.

You went to a club in the nearest city- well a few clubs- and after a few drinks you were officially feeling like yourself for the first time in months. You took shot after shot, drank a dozen glasses of aperol spritz, and by the end of the night ended up singing Dolly Parton to a whole club of people for karaoke.

Once you stumbled off the stage, giggling to yourself about the applause you were getting, you realised your friends had disappeared. Huffing, you walked outside the club and you pulled your phone out, hitting your friends caller ID and immediately hitting call.

After two rings she picked up. "F-Fiona? Hey Fi, where are you. I think I'm a bit lost," You hiccupped down the phone.

"Y/N?" A man said.

"Who- Who are you!" You shouted at the phone confrontationally. "Where is Fiona Harris, Mister."

"It's Fernando," He said. On the other side of the phone, he was lay in bed, at 1am. He- in all honesty- was hoping you'd called him purposely, to get back together, or to meet up for... things... He felt slight disappointment when he realised he wasn't who the call was meant for, but he didn't hang up, he wanted to hear your voice again. "Where are you?" He said, already getting out of bed and pulling the first clothes he could find, on.

"Where's Fernando- w-wait..." You laughed at yourself getting the names wrong, "Where is Fiona?"

"Where is Y/N?" He asked, already out the door.

"I am at the club!" You announced happily, "The one with the pretty flamingo on the sign."

Fernando knew, by such a small clue, "Don't move okay, my lo– Erm, I mean Y/N,"

"Okay mister man." You slurred, "Can you stay on the phone please mister man..." You asked, but then interrupted him and started talking about how much you really hated the club scene. He already knew every single thing you spoke about during the quick 10 minute drive.

When he got to the club, you were leaning against the brick walls of the club, still talking into the phone as it the receiving end of your call wasn't 10 feet infront of you. "O-Oh hey Fernando," You hiccupped, "What you doing here- hey!"

He picked you up and literally carried you to his car- to any passers by they would be inclined to think he was kidnapping you. Once you were settled in his passenger seat and fought your drunk hands from trying to grab at his face while he was trying to put a seatbelt on you, he drove you both to his home. "When did you get this car..." You asked, as you inebriatedly messed with the radio, dash board, and glove compartment.

"A few days after you broke up with me..."

"Oh- I don't like that answer... Make a new one please."

He chuckled, "A new one?" You nodded quickly and snapped your fingers for him to hurry up with his new answer. "Oh- Okay... I got it last week after a party."

You smiled and nodded. "Is it home time now?" you frowned confused.

When you got to his house, you already knew the procedure he'd make you do. He did it anytime you were drunk.

First, drink water, water and more water. Check.

Then brush teeth. Check.

Then, attempt, to wash your makeup off. Half check.

And finally, kiss him goodnight...

You stepped out the bathroom into the bedroom. He was stood stiffly with a pair of your old pyjamas in his hands and another bottle of water.

"You- You are so good." You slurred, "C-can you help me." You said as you struggled to unzip the back of your dress.

He nodded, putting the items on the bed and turning you around. His hands lingered a little long on your shoulders after pushing your hair from your back. He, slowly, dragged the silver zipper down to the bottom of your back. He shamelessly stared for a moment before turning around. "What you doing?" You asked, "Why you not looking... You've seen before?"

"I- I know I have I just don't want to intrude."

"You can intrude..."

"Not when you're drunk," He replied. You simply nodded- not that he could see- and began to dress into more appropriate clothes to sleep in.

After a few minutes, when you got into bed, he was about to leave when you stopped him quickly, "Don't leave baby..." You babbled, tiredly. Baby... "I trust you- sleep here."

"I- I don't think–"

"I think yes. Come please." You demanded.

He gave in. Lying stiff next to you. You wriggled towards him, giggling to yourself as you, in your eyes, sneakily got over to him and grabbed him. He melted at the touch of your hands on his stomach and your head on his chest. You both fell asleep quickly, it was the first full nights rest Fernando had gotten in a while. When you woke up, you had rolled over to the other side of the bed. Nothing out of the ordinary since you moved alot in your sleep.

He heard you groan under your breath as you were waking up, then a gasp. You sat up quickly and looked at Fernando next to you. "Oh my god." You mumbled. "Oh, my god, oh, my god." You repeated it a few times before Fernando shut you up.

"I didn't sleep with you, stop shouting it is early." He said, in that deep morning voice you always loved.

"Oh."

"You called me drunk about how you lost Fiona and whoever else,"

"That's absolutely humiliating." You mumbled, "S-so nothing happened? Nothing at all?"

He shook his head, "Only you tried to get naked for me so," He laughed, when you groaned in embarrassment. "Don't worry, I looked away..." He said, "You want me to make you breakfast?" He asked, before you could reply he interrupted himself, "N- no, never mind I'll get you an uber- stupid thing to ask..." He mumbled, taking his phone from the side table.

You quickly snatched his phone. He looked at you stunned. "You know how i like my pancakes," You smiled. He looked at you, almost with hope in his eyes. When you smiled at him he felt his heart burst open. He shot up out of bed.

"These will be the best pancakes you've ever tasted," He promised. You chuckled and watched as he ran out the room, then minutes later hearing a clatter in the kitchen. You rolled your eyes and ventured the house to find him.

There was a bowl on the floor, three forks and a spoon, as well as a cook book.

You stared at his back muscles, you won't lie. You didn't forget he slept shirtless. "How's the cooking going 'Nando?" You laughed, his heart skipped a beat. He spun around quickly with a nervous look on his face. He slowly shuffled to the side to reveal a mess of what looked more like cookie dough than pancake mix. "Need help?" You laughed at him, there was flour on his forehead and half an egg yolk on the counter. He nodded silently. You're smile was still on your face as your laugh died down. You stepped infront of him, first throwing whatever he had made away, then picking up the items from the floor and finally standing infront of him. "You have a little..." You pointed at his forehead, he tried to wipe it off and missed. Completely. You smiled and pressed your finger to his head, carefully wiping it off his skin. He stared at your face, eyes, nose, the few freckles on your cheeks and finally your lips. He couldn't help but imagine himself against them again.

"Kiss the cook, huh?" You chuckled.

"Huh?" He was pulled out of his trance. You pointed to his apron, "O-Oh yeah, Lance got it me... the same day we uh... yeah."

You nodded silently, you were between the counter and his body, you hadn't even realised until he got closer and you were against the cold slab of marble. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his eyes staring all over your face, lingering on your lips.

You pressed your hands on his chest, he took a step back, maybe it was too far.

That was what he thought until your hands gripped the fabric of the apron and pulled him back into you.

"Is this wrong?" You questioned him.

"How can this be wrong?" He replied.

"Kiss the cook?" You asked quietly. He was quick to pick you up and put you on the counter, pressing his lips onto yours, he stood between your legs and held you by the waist, while you hands held the back of his head. "God, I missed you," you sighed.

"Not as much as me, my love." he replied, his lips then immediately back on yours. The kiss was needy, wanting and longing for you for months.

You pulled the apron off his body, putting your hands on his bare chest, wrapping your legs around his waist before he pulled you off the counter and to the bedroom. You shrieked a giggle as he carried you through the house, his lips never leaving your neck, his lips tracing the skin, savouring the taste.

He let go of you as you got to the bed, "This is okay?" He checked, to which you nodded thoroughly.

He pulled your pyjamas off your body like it was an inconvenience to him. He crawled down the bed and pushed your legs apart, licking his lips before putting his head between your thighs, your hands instinctively grabbing at his hair, your heels digging into his back as his hands firmly held the flesh of your thighs.

After pulling 2 orgasms out of you he was lining his cock up with your entrance. You nodded as he looked at you once again for a go ahead. He pushed in slowly, dropping his head to your shoulder and groaning curses. He sped up after a moment, and you quickly became a wreck beneath him.

A whining, moaning, shaking, wreck.

"F-Fernando..." You whimper, "I- I'm going to..."

You don't even get the words out before you scream and spasm, everything tingling and throbbing as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and heat flooding your entire body. He's quick to follow you, bottoming out inside of you before pulling out of you and rolling next to you. "Jesus." You say, before laughing a little. "That was probably the best sex I've ever had."

He nods in agreement, he's staring at you like you're God yourself. "S-So does this mean like-"

"If you'd like to, then yeah it does."

You barely finish what you're saying when he jumps back onto you and smothers you with kisses making you laugh hysterically. "I love you so so much, my love, I'm not letting you go again," He announces, before getting up, pulling a robe over himself and then going to the window of the bedroom before shouting out of it, "She's all mine!"

El fin.

hope this was enjoyable. first fic I've wrote for Tumblr. anywho.

<3

[mayabruhbruh]

What do you think of the possibility of Will and Chance happening? I feel like it would be really poor writing tbh but I feel like they will give Will a different love interest because they’ll try to make all of the audience „happy“ But that would just truly not align with the writing so far I feel like.

Love your analyses btw<3

THANK YOUU! That's so kind :) And great ask! This is definitely a topic that the ST fandom needs to discuss.

The default question when people have little to no hope in Byler is, well, who the hell is Will going to end up with? Because it’s become increasingly evident that they’re trying to set him up for a romance. The “im not gonna fall in love”, the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”, even the gif shown above. It all can be interpreted to mean that Will is going to find his person soon.

So... to be completely honest, I had no idea who Chance was until this ask popped up and I had to look him up💀. It’s been a while since I’ve been on here, so I’m a little rusty on the deep lore lmao. So, in the off chance that others might also be confused, here’s a (rare) gif of him I found.

I think that’s him with the Hawkins cap on the right. Correct me if I’m wrong.

I’m not sure where the rumors that this guy was going to become a bigger part of the show came from, but that seems highly unlikely to me. I feel like they would have either hinted at it in the fourth season (like how they’re giving Patrick here quite a sizeable role so that he’ll be memorable to us later when he gets vecnafied) or they would have announced him as a more prominent character already like how they did for s5 with Holly, that one new kid character, and also how they did Amybeth for s4. Idk, maybe it’s unreasonable to think they would have to do that, but it feels quite too out-of-the-blue. Especially for a character that would take on the role of becoming our central character’s love interest, which is a BIG DEAL. Especially if it’s queer lol.

Secondly, I firmly believe that it would be a disservice to Will’s own desires to meet someone new.

Will said this explicitly in the van scene, and as of now, we’re still under the impression that Mike is his person. Forget about Mike’s issues and feelings for a second, and think about what Will is saying here. He feels like a mistake for being different, but Mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake at all, that he’s better for being different. Mike gives him courage to fight on. Fuck. Tbh, it makes me wonder how long he’d felt this way. As a byler, you might be inclined to think his feelings have been on for forever, but narratively, he could have easily just realized his own feelings very recently, most likely sometime between season 3 and 4. It doesn’t mean the feelings weren’t there before, but realistically neither Will nor the general audience were aware of it before now.

Moving on.

Has anyone heard of the rule of Chekhov’s gun? It’s an incredibly clever and widely-used tool in screenwriting and storytelling in general that helps to clue the watchers in for what’s to come next.

Think of Lucas’ wrist rocket in season 1. When they introduced it as a flimsy-looking, no-good weapon that he’d put too much pride in at first, it gives us a good laugh and we move on. But really, it very meticulously set us up to subconsciously anticipate to see it again later. That’s what Chekhov’s gun is all about. Set-ups, foreshadowing, hidden treasures.

Another great example would be the painting reveal of s4. Obviously, after finding out that Will was painting something, bylers immediately figured it was for Mike and BEGGED and HOPED and PLEADED that we’d be able to finally see it, but to the general audience it was just another something that they’d have to pick apart and realize was actually of importance as the season progressed. (It’s also a good way of showing that the writers are fully capable of engrossing the entire fan base and general audience in his and Mike’s story. Just knowing Will had painted something and that it was for Mike created this sense of PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IT IS AND WJATS GOING ON and whatnot that watchers are simply so susceptible to it’s insane.)

Okay, back to the van scene. Will’s confession.

Now, I’m not saying that the writers intentionally used this foreshadowing tool for us to find and understand immediately. There are plenty, plenty of instances where writers use Chekhov’s gun principle and it flies over peoples heads purposefully. What I’m trying to say is that, thematically and narratively, they would never have introduced Wills feelings for Mike if not for it to have importance to the story, or for nothing to happen with it at all. It’s a set up. And a maddeningly good one, at that. Because queer stories already do tend to fly over people’s heads, and also because there’s the added drama between Mike and Eleven that makes it seem quite impossible for any of these feelings to be addressed in the midst of such emotional chaos. But whatever. I think I’m rambling.

Basically, whether they end up together or not, whether Mike reciprocates these feelings, Will is forever established to be in love with Mike. The confession was simply too grand and emotional and earnest for him to just switch up abruptly next season when he meets someone new that he might have a better chance with. Even if there were to be a whole new arc for him where he learns to let go of Mike or something crappy like that, it would be terrible writing on their end and poor use of a well-set-up Chekhov’s gun reference. It would be like introducing the gun in the display case in scene one, then two scenes later just tucking it away into a storage closet for the remainder of the story. Like… what?

And plus, it’s HIGHLY unlikely that Will would end up with that sort of storyline next season when he’s literally WITH Mike for presumably a majority of the time (based on the set pics so far).

So that’s my debunking of the Chance rumors :) and I didn’t even get to mention how incompatible they’d be just naturally as characters. Chance, a Jason-following jock that hates Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy and nerdy things, and willingly assisted in beating up the Hellfire Club when they were trying to find Eddie. What about that at all screams Will’s type? And if you’re thinking “unconventional couple enemies to lovers”, just don’t. This isn’t a rom-com, especially for a queer plot line lol. I think it’s safe to say there’s no “chance”😉 that they will ever happen. And either way, it’d be a bummer if they did. Cus it would just be Will defeatedly settling for someone that isn’t Mike.

UGH! It makes me sad that the one thing that is firmly being teased by the writers (Will’s love playing a major role in the plot to come) is constantly being questioned and framed as different questions. “Will Mike reciprocate?” “Does this mean Mike and Eleven break up?” “Who will end up with who?” SHHH Frankly, to me this is already a win. It’s become obvious that Will having feelings for him will come up again soon, and the rest of the evidence that accounts for Mike’s end already speaks for itself, so I prefer to just sit back and watch it all unfold.

Again, thanks so much for the ask!! This was so fun to dissect and feel free to keep sending questions into my inbox. It might take me a second to post my response but I’m determined to get through all of them. Love you guys!! <3

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestive, smut love bombing, little sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 - ‘You’re Mine’

You sat on your apartment floor in a pile of your clothes. What the hell do you bring to visit a boy… in another country… for an unspecified amount of time. Lingerie was the first thing in your suitcase but like… what else?

Trent had been kind enough to organize everything for you so you really only had to lock up your apartment, he had gotten everything sorted down to a car picking you up and bringing you to the airport. You had an inkling it was more likely Tyler orchestrating the logistics but Trent was the one relaying the information to you. No matter, it was incredibly thoughtful.

He had booked you a hotel suite down near the Liverpool waterfront because you had mentioned that you had liked staying near there before during previous visits to the city. It was unsaid but assumed you’d more than likely be in Trent’s bed anyways but you didn’t want to pressure him or bother him after a match day and he hadn’t wanted you to presume this was a trip solely to get his dick wet. It also occurred to both of you that Trent lived with his family. It was comforting to him, something he loved, something you actually found endearing, and as much as you got along with his brothers, throwing you into the family home seemed like a big ask.

There were a lot of uncertainties about the trip… the most glaringly obvious, the length. You and Trent both just wanted to be back together so you hadn’t really set a return date. You were off and on your way to England tomorrow. You couldn’t exactly uproot your life for a man you hadn’t known for that long, let alone explain to your family that you suddenly had struck up a whirlwind romance with the Trent Alexander-Arnold but your return to New York was still TBD.

To be honest, your dad might be thrilled at the idea of the potential access to Anfield and return to his home country but you were a daddy’s girl so moving countries might throw him for a loop. Your mom, well.. she’d miss you but you having a boyfriend, no matter the location, would just make her life complete. That was another thing… you were so excited to visit ‘your Trent’ but he wasn’t your boyfriend really so what was this to him? You had told most people who needed to know your whereabouts that you were going to England to visit a friend, you’d be going to Liverpool for a game which you had done before… purposely avoiding the details though that seeing a player was the sole reason you were being flown out. You wanted to keep it hush until it was official with him or god forbid… if it were to all fizzle out. Your head was spinning when your best friend FaceTimed you breaking the trepidation.

“Are you even going to pack clothes?” She joked before even saying hello to you.

“Rude…. I am, but honestly haven’t got a clue what yet… I want to look good but not try too hard. I wanna be hot for him but I’ll also be with his family so the lines are a little blurry.” You began to rant, panicking. You initially had asked Trent what to pack but his response was zero help.

“You look amazing in anything… but I also want you in nothing.. so” he joked, providing no assistance during a recent phone call.

Despite everything being done for you, the trip was still a little overwhelming. The plan was to fly into Manchester, Trent insisting that Tyler pick you up because he wasn’t able to get you himself because his match was that day. Tyler would drive you to your hotel, check you in, let you settle in and then he and Marcel would grab you a bit later on to head to the stadium for the game so you could see Trent. After that…not a clue what was in store but you could only imagine it would involve little to no clothing… heavily depending on if you were able to manage to stay awake after the long day.

It all sounded so seamless but after a 7 hour flight, the idea of going to a packed season opener at Anfield and attempting to look presentable after not seeing your man for over a month was stressing you out. Trent didn’t really think that this was, rather the reunion would be exciting, fun, and romantic.

“Okay, okay… I’m thinking you have to go with basics right? Like heels, boots, a sneaker, jeans, white tee, and then obviously have to bring all the gifts and shit he’s sent you..” your best friend was trying to be practical and she was right. Just simple, like your first date, hot but comfortable.

“Yeah, okay, smart. Weather is kind of weird there… like if I need a jacket… I need to think a little more. Maybe I’ll shop when I’m there when he’s busy like at training…”

“You shop? Let him shop! He’s clearly not opposed to buying you things! Also… you’re going to the north of England not a deserted island. I hope you shop when you’re there.”

“I’m not letting him do that… he’s gotta chill with the..” you stopped your own sentence “oh my god! There’s a Selfridges in Manchester… wow I totally forgot. Ugh I can’t wait for that.” You were drooling at the idea of bringing those yellow shopping bags home, forgetting the current task at hand.

“Wow, yeah… I miss that place.” Your friend also getting lost for a second.

“Fuck! Focus Y/N.” You said aloud to yourself. “I need to pack now. I’m hanging up. You’re not as helpful as I needed you to be!” You poked fun sarcastically at your friend who had actually been helpful.

“Love you! Let me know when you you take off, land, fuck him, you know the important things” she cooed cheekily.

You managed to finish packing. An incredibly heavy full suitcase that barely zipped closed and a burgundy Goyard Saint Louis tote bag stuffed full of flight essentials; passport, charger, headphones, just the usual.

You hadn’t realized until you were in line for security rereading your ticket but you were pleased when you realized you were in first class and you had access to a lounge. You texted Trent an update as if he hadn’t planned your entire itinerary for the next 24 hours.

“Text me before you take off, baby 😘” he responded.

“I will 😘 going to see you so sooon… absolutely insane”

“Getting impatient” he texted, always managing to make you smile, make you feel wanted. So you boarded the plane, tucked into your seat with a smile and a warm feeling in your chest. You picked a movie, popped in your headphones and prayed for a safe flight and the ability to get some rest during it.

While you were in transit, Trent was busy with pre-match preparations and also ultimately getting ready for your arrival. He was so excited he couldn’t sit still, pacing around his house. He hadn’t really shut up about you over the past few weeks, more often than not talking to his mum, knowing she could keep a secret. He didn’t want to over share with his friends, teammates and brothers because he was well aware how whipped he was for you and they would no doubt give him shit. That said, he didn’t exactly hide his obsession all that well.

“I’m sorry I can’t make it to the match tonight, sweetheart” Dianne sincerely apologized to Trent standing in the kitchen that morning. She had a prior commitment she couldn’t get out of unfortunately. It didn’t really bother Trent, she had seen more minutes of him on the pitch than anyone but it also meant that it would postponing your meeting.

“Mum, really it’s fine… besides I’m getting a little nervous about who's all in the box tonight.” He said anxiously.

“You shouldn’t be nervous… you invited her and she wanted to come.” Dianne knew he was referring to you being in the box.

“I know I never say this….” Trent sighed leaning his forehead against the refrigerator door. “What if I play bad and she gets like the ick.”

“The ick?” Dianne perplexed by the term.

“Yeah, like the ick…” Trent poorly and inadvertently didn’t explain so Dianne moved on.

“Trenty, it’s just another normal night.” She tried to reassure him like he was still her little boy.

“She is flying to another country… for me.” Trent said initially with some fear but his own words actually had instilled some confidence in him. You were flying to see him. You didn’t have to do this, you wanted to.

Trent had to leave to meet with the team, start the whole process of match day so he gathered all his things, said goodbye to his mum, and made his way to the driveway. He stopped in his tracks half way to his car trying to remember if he had made his bed, hoping that tonight he could convince you to come sleep with him instead of your hotel. The thought of you back in his arms had him eager for the final whistle before kick off even happened.

You woke up with about a half an hour left in your flight. By the time you gathered yourself you had landed in Manchester. You were going to text Trent but you didn’t want to bother him as it was getting closer to game time so you opted to text Tyler letting him know you had arrived. Customs wasn’t too long but you needed a few extra minutes in the bathroom to reapply some tinted moisturizer, fix your hair, spray some perfume, it was fine for now but you couldn’t wait to shower at the hotel.

“In arrival pickup, I'm refusing to hold a sign like Trent wanted so just look for my car…black Mercedes.” Tyler texted. It made you laugh, he clearly was just being a nice brother doing Trent a favor. He downplayed his car exponentially, it was a massive Mercedes G-Wagon, not exactly subtle, it was matte black with completely tinted windows. You easily spotted it and rolled your suitcase down the pavement. Tyler got out of the car, calling your name lowly. You greeted him warmly with a sweet ‘hi’ and a big hug.

“You okay? Flight was fine?” He questioned genuinely, taking your suitcase and putting it in the boot of his car.

“Yeah, yeah all good. Airports are just so stressful so thank you for handling everything. Obviously wasn’t T.” You teased and Tyler shrugged knowing that was incredibly accurate.

You opened the car door to find a little box wrapped neatly with a bow on the front seat. You picked it up to try to hand it to Tyler like it was his.

“Obviously, it’s for you. He wasn’t going to let you arrive without getting you something… be real for a minute.”

You giggled knowing it was true. Gifts were one of Trent’s love languages for sure. You shuffled around in the seat a little awkwardly at first fumbling with the box before putting it in your bag.

“Everything good?” Tyler asked, noticing as he started to pull out of the lane.

“Sorry, just haven’t driven over here in a minute, was confused for a second.” You giggled more readjusting to the roads.

“I don’t have anything comforting to say, just the way it is, the way it should be.” He teased you.

“Sure.. whatever you say.” You poked back rolling your eyes. Being American made for easy jokes.

“I told him I got you, he won’t be on his phone today really so if you don’t hear from Trent before don’t take it personally.” Tyler spoke unprompted.

“Oh… yeah? Thanks. I didn’t want to bother him. Don’t really know anything about match day protocol I guess…. I usually am a few pints in by this point.” He laughed at your honesty.

“We'll get you a drink eventually. But after… usually best bet is to let him come to us depending on the result. I know he’s embarrassingly excited to see you though so I’ll get you to him.” He said openly not taking his eyes off the road.

You arrived at the hotel and Tyler offered to help you check in but you assured him you could manage, he already had done a lot and had to come back for you in a little so you felt a little guilty taking up more of his time. He left once you gestured to him through the window you had successfully got your room key.

You got to your room and immediately collapsed on the bed not long before springing back up and practically ripping off your clothes thinking about getting airplane germs on the fresh bed. You swiftly made it to the shower immediately.

You wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel sat on the edge of the bed, trying to remember what you had planned to wear to the match tonight. You looked at your open suitcase, beauty products now covering the counter tops, the sweatshirt you wore on the plane spilling out of your Goyard when you spotted the little box Trent had left for you peaking out.

“Oh shit” you exclaimed out loud in the empty room recalling you hadn’t opened it yet. You pulled at the ribbon, unraveling the knot opening the lid to reveal a small velvet jewelry box. You popped it open to see a gold band, it was a classic ring but it had a raised block font with the letters ‘TAA’ pressed onto it. You liked how personal it was, you liked that he wanted you to wear his initials. There was a little card with his scribbled handwriting, nothing too grandiose, just simple.

‘Your TAA xx’

You slid the ring on and you felt like your heart could burst. Getting a ring from Trent caused your mind to fantasize at what other sort of ring he could eventually buy you. Calling himself yours made you smile uncontrollably too. You threw on a tank top and shorts to lay in bed for a moment telling people back home you arrived safely in England when your screen flashed with an incoming FaceTime.

“Guess where I ammmmm” you answered while sitting up a little in the bed. Your arm wrapped tightly around your chest in excitement seeing the gorgeous boys face grace the screen. Overjoyed considering Tyler’s warning you may not hear from him.

“Baby, I cannot believe you are so close right now.” Trent said beaming.

“Weird right?!” You giggled.

“You promise you’re actually coming tonight, you and Ty aren’t just messing with me?” He sounded more serious than he needed to be. You flipped your camera to face away from you showing him your dainty hand now fitted with the ring with his initials, the Liverpool waterfront visible from the window behind your fingers. Confirmation you were definitely here before turning the camera back to you.

“Promise, pretty boy!” You cooed “Cannot wait to see you tonight.”

“You cannot wait to kiss me.” He corrected you, his eyes dropping a little lower to your chest now.

“Mmm” You hummed to get his attention knowing that your tits were on display. “Don’t you have to focus, dial in?”

“I’m focused… trust me.” Trent said lustfully before snapping out of his gaze.

“I do actually have to run but just needed to make sure you got here safely.” He rambled.

“All safe” you smiled.

“If there’s a lot of stoppage time tonight, I’m going to be pissed. Need to see my baby.” He groaned

“See you tonighttt, my T” you practically sang your smile getting bigger at the thought before hanging up. You pulled yourself out of bed knowing that Tyler and Marcel would be coming to pick you up sooner than later and you had to get ready.

You went for light makeup, your hair in a middle part and down, natural. You slipped on some promiscuous lingerie inspecting how you looked in the mirror. Once you confirmed this looked like the right set for your first night back together you put on Trent’s jersey. The warm feeling returned in your chest. You were a fan before you’d ever met him but knowing this was his, from him, it just felt different and you couldn’t suppress the butterflies filling your stomach. You pulled it tucking it up into the band of your bra, a hack you did to crop the shirt showcasing your stomach.

You chose a pair of fitted leather pants, you knew your ass looked good in them. After a long internal debate you landed on a Barbour jacket, it seemed the most weather appropriate. Frankly, your shoe choice was impractical, committing your look so you went with a pair of tan suede pointed toed heeled boots. And of course, it would only be right to bring the Chanel bag Trent had got for you. You weren’t monogamous to silver or gold so you wore both metals dripping in a ton of jewelry. Grabbing your phone from the charger you double checked you had everything and stood in the mirror analyzing every aspect of your outfit but was interrupted by the unknown UK number calling your phone. You usually wouldn’t but you answered assuming, not surprised to hear a familiar scouse accent giving you shit for running behind.

“I’m sorry!! I’m coming right now” you sincerely apologized to Marcel on the other end of the phone rushing. You walked through the lobby adjusting your outfit when the lady who checked you in earlier friendly questioned you.

“Headed out to the game tonight hun?” She asked spotting you adjust the team jersey.

“Yep!” You said sweetly with a smile but trying to hurry along as to not hold up the boys any longer.

“They are a handsome lot, maybe you’ll find yourself a player to bring back.” She said quite cheekily but it was meant with good lighthearted intentions.

“Maybe…” you said smugly, slyly, little did she know your reality.

You jumped into the familiar big Mercedes back seat you were in mere hours ago.

“You’re aware it’s a footie match?” Marcel made fun of your over the top outfit. It really wasn’t, frankly, they just were in far more casual clothes.

“Yes, I do and your opinion is not important to me. I like my outfit. Thank you very much!” You quipped teasing back.

You were thankful you’d been to Anfield before because it was actually quite overwhelming arriving. You had entered in sectioned off areas but even so the two brothers weren’t exactly walking around going unnoticed at the stadium. You could feel people staring. It was loud, bustling, and being thrust into the close circle of families and friends of players had you feeling out of place. You had made your way into a box nestled high in the stadium. It actually vibrated from the fan curated atmosphere. Opposite of you, the boys were so relaxed, they looked to be completely at home, before offering you a pint as promised. Haphazardly they showed you around the suite, the seats, where things were gradually. The noise outside only grew when the team made their way onto the pitch to warm up.

Even though he was younger than you Marcel felt like he needed to keep an eye on you. He could sense your nerves so he put his hand on your shoulder gently and guided you out of the box into the open air seats overlooking the field.

“He’s number 66.” He said facetiously pointing obviously down at Trent. Your heart nearly stopped seeing him. He was actually focused on football now opposed to your tits on FaceTime earlier, striking the ball with ease, laughing a little.

He looked so beautiful. Under the floodlights, his skin was just glowing. He had aura… god, he just radiated a coolness. He was so subtly confident, so sexy. Your finger stroked over the raised letters of your new ring settling your rapid breath. You couldn’t peel your eyes away, it had been so long since you’ve seen him in the flesh and there he was but he was still so so far away.

In a moment, the crazed environment completely faded away when Trent lifted his head, inspecting the stands, combing through faces in the box till he landed on yours. That smile. Oh my god, that smile on his face had you completely falling apart inside. He sent a quick wink your way, still attempting to keep his concentration on the game. Although small, his acknowledgement calmed you feeling more comfortable, finally taking off your jacket, admittedly slightly shyly considering you were sitting with boys who shared the last name on your back.

“Uhhohh we got a fan” Tyler jeered.

“Ugh T, you’re so sexy. Please let me be a WAG” Marcel moaned in a terrible, but equally funny, American accent impersonating you.

“I hate you both” you said with no real conviction, your eyes refusing to break from watching Trent stretch, it was hot.. you couldn’t deny it.

You had relaxed, meeting a few people, drinking and laughing with his brothers, you were having fun. The starting eleven took their positions before kick off. Trent had made his way to the back right of the pitch that was closer to where you all were sat. There was a pause, a hum of anticipation for the match to begin but in the lull Trent turned to look for you once more. He found you much faster this time, pressing his hand to his lips, blowing you a kiss pointing up to you directly. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. It was bold, it was public, it was just for you. You were lost in the moment, looking longingly into the big brown eyes that felt miles away. You pushed your lips, pressing a kiss into the crisp air towards him. He smiled before putting his head back down to regain focus.

His brothers looked completely shocked at the interaction. Marcel’s hand gripped Tyler’s leg. They knew you two were into each other, it seemed to be serious, but never… never had they seen Trent break professionalism and do something so affectionate, not only in public, but on a massive stage. This game was at a fully packed stadium, broadcasted, spectated internationally and he without a single second of doubt was blowing a kiss to you.

The ref blew the whistle signaling the start of the match but also the start of something much more.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! DW smut will return! Let me know what you think!!!!!

Next part - Chapter 11

[miupow]

‧₊˚✩彡 𝘿𝙐𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙔 PT 2 | 𝙝.𝙠𝙠ೀ

╰⪼ taehyun gives great advice; go out for drinks.

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pairing. hueningkai x fem!reader rating. NSFW, MDNI! words. ~3.1k warnings. jealous!kai, mentions of alcohol/drinking, hard dom!kai, sub!reader, tyun acts as a wingman lol, gags, blindfolds, bondage mention, dry humping, dirty talk, degradation, name calling (whore, slut), jake from enhpyen cameo!! possible dubcon

"Are you a slut?" Hueningkai hisses, big hand palming your bare ass-- you whimper around your gag, tug at the restraints that bind your arms behind your back. "Is that what you are? All you can think about is getting cock, huh?"

Tears were starting to soak the silk of your blindfold, sticking wet and cold to your skin-- you had never felt this raw and desperate in your life. "No!" you try to say, but it comes out a muffled whine.

Huening leans in close, hot breath caressing your ear, fabric of his shirt ghosting your back; his grip on your asscheek tightens, fingers digging into the flesh. "I'm sorry baby, didn't hear you. What was that?"

"I'm not a slut!" you try again, shaking your head wildly, slurred words incomprehensible-- drool ran down your chin and neck, dripped onto the bedsheets beneath you, and moving your mouth to speak only made more spill out. You felt disgusting, pathetic, humliated beyond belief... and your wet cunt ached.

"No?" Kai coos, the palm gripping your ass trailing down between your thighs. His fingertips brushed softly against your fluttering folds-- the first real touch to your neglected pussy. You sob around the gag. It was nowhere near enough. "Then why are you so wet right now? I've barely touched you and you're soaked. You want me to fuck you that bad, huh baby?"

And you wake up before you can answer.

That was the third time that week you had woken up with a mess between your legs-- ever since the Incident at Taehyun's apartment you've been unable to get a proper night's rest. It was irritating, embarrasing, and confusing in the worst possible way; you didn't even like Hueningkai that way.

At least, you thought you didn't, but now you weren't so sure.

Because while they first started off as simple wet dreams, something you could blame your subconscious for (or your very stagnant sex life), they quickly seeped their way into your awake, sociable life, and it was very deeply affecting your ability to function.

You were late to work twice, failed a test because you were too busy daydreaming to study, and hounded constantly with deeply inappropriate thoughts about a boy you could have sworn was a virign. Your unruly mind kept rewinding back to your friends' words, talk about handcuffs and punishments and girls running away screaming-- your sweet, giggly friend apparently ran some secret double life as some sort of sex demon, and you had no idea. Not a clue.

You needed to know more.

"This is about Huening, isn't it." Taehyun states plainly when he answers your call. For a split second, you wished he was less reliable about picking up the phone.

"I haven't even said anything," you whine, a little petulant even to your own ears. Taehyun had always been able to read you like a book, read everyone like a book, and it never failed to piss you off and embarrass you.

"You never call me unless it's about your problems."

Oh. Well. You suppose that's true. He was just such a great listener.

"He's not a problem, I'm just-- is he in the room with you right now?"

You can hear Taehyun's eyeroll reverberate through his sigh. "He's at class. If you're calling to apologize, I can leave a message."

You scoff. "Apologize for what?! I didn't do anything!"

"I think you hurt his feelings. He hasn't left his room all week except to go to his classes." Taehyun sounded more amused than anything else. "You should at least tell him you're sorry for emasculating him."

"Emasculating him?!" And this was why you didn't go to Taehyun when it came to problems involving his own friends. "He's the one being a big baby about it! How was I supposed to know you guys weren't joking? Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"Tell you what, that Kai's a freak? We thought you knew. Plus, it's not like it's even that big of a deal. You're both just being weird about it."

"I'm not being weird about it!" You retort. "I'm just, like-- how long have you known?"

Taehyun was quiet for a very long, uncomfortable moment. "Y/N, if you're about to quiz me on my roommate's sex life, I will hang up on you."

"I'm not, I'm not!" You're glad you're curled up in bed and not out in public; you'd hate anyone to see you this flustered just over the phone. "I'm just confused on how it was apparently 'so obvious' and I completely missed it."

"That's because he'd been trying to hide it from you. He's just been doing a shit job-- thought you figured it out anyway."

You blink. "He's... what? Why?"

Taehyun makes a noise like he's sucking at his teeth, staticky over the phone. You briefly wonder if he's actually going to hang up on you. "I promised Kai I wouldn't tell you this."

"Tell me what?!" You press with a hiss, grasping your phone harder in your hand-- you were getting really sick and tired of everyone beating around the bush with you, like you hadn't already learned more about Kai in the last few days than you had in the last few years. "Tyun, if it involves me, I think I deserve to know."

Taehyun hesitates for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, deep and weighted like some veteran soldier. You want to laugh, really, but you're too on edge to do much more than hang onto every word Taehyun says. "Kai's gonna kill me for this."

"I don't care. Spill."

"He's... interested in you. Has been since he met you, I think. He was playing up that annoying good boy act 'cos he didn't want to 'scare you away.'"

You let out a breath like it had been knocked out of you with a fist, head spinning wildly. Kai was always so sweet and polite, got you gifts, made sure you always felt appreciated and included... but he had never given you the impression that he was into you. He was just like that with everyone.

But now that you thought about it...

Those smiles he seemed to save just for you, adorable and ecstatic like you had completed some insurmountable task for him instead of just getting him a candy bar or a glass of water, the gentlest 'thank you so much'es that made your tummy flip in the best way. Pretty brown eyes wide and sparkling every time he looked at you-- he would always furiously turn away like he didn't want you to catch him staring.

You caught him staring quite a lot. You always assumed you must have had something on your face.

Sweet Hyuka who told you you looked pretty even when you knew you didn't, stepping into his and Taehyun's apartment in pajamas because Yeonjun hadn't told you it was movie night until he was getting ready to leave. Hyuka who would give up his seat so you could sit on the couch. Hyuka who was always the first to stand up for you if one of the other boys made a snide joke in your expense. Hyuka who hugged you first before he addressed anyone else. Hyuka who would sometimes only come out of his room if he was told that you were there. You always thought that Hyuka was a great friend.

Suddenly, the other night made a lot more sense. Just as suddenly, you also felt very, very guilty.

"Oh." You whisper into the phone, because it had hit you that you hadn't said anything for quite some time.

"Yeah, 'oh.' Now he thinks you think he's a gross pervert." Taehyun snickers. He's enjoying your plight far too much.

"I don't think that." you retort softly, a little sad.

"You should tell him that, not me."

"How am I supposed to tell him anything if he won't pick up the phone?!"

Taehyun's quiet again, like he's thinking. "Listen, Yeonjun's taking us out for drinks Friday to celebrate Kai passing his midterms. I think he's trying to cheer him up. Ask him to come with; you can talk to Kai then."

"...Would Kai even want me there?" You ask.

"Probably not, to be honest. Doesn't matter though, he's not the one paying, he can go cry about it. Plus, I think hyung was gonna bring you anyway-- he thinks this entire thing is hilarious."

You hesitate for a moment. Not only foes this have bad idea written all over it, you also don't have anything to wear. "Promise you'll get me out of there if things get nasty?"

"How would things get nasty?" Taehyun laughs. "The most Kai would do is whine that he wants to go home."

You should have stayed home.

Taehyun was right-- when you brought up the club to Yeonjun, he had enthusiastically mentioned that he was, in fact, going to ask you to come with, and that he was very happy to hear you agree to go. Maybe that should have been your warning.

Huening hadn't so much as looked to you the entire night. You spotted him immediately when you had stepped into the building, platinum blond hair and an oversized grey hoodie tucked awkwardly into a corner booth, big frame shrunk in on itself like he was trying to come off as small as he possibly could. You felt bad for him, really, watching him stare surly into the same drink he had been nursing the entire night-- Kai hates clubs, yet the other boys kept insisting on celebrating with drinks and dancing instead of something Kai would actually enjoy, like a movie. You're fairly sure Kai was already aware that the night wasn't really about him and his test scores.

On top of the awkward atmosphere, you feel naked in this dress. You borrowed it from a friend, since you had nothing nice to wear— it was cute, but backless and low cut, and not to mention about two sizes too small. You were afraid to take large breaths, lest your breasts fall out of the top entirely. 

You think you caught Huening staring from the booth as you sat at the bar with Yeonjun, but it might just have been wishful thinking. 

“Just go up and talk to him,” Yeonjun suggests between swigs of his beer. He keeps looking over his shoulder at the dancefloor like he’s hunting for something— most likely a girl to take home with him.

“And what, grovel for his forgiveness? He looks like he wants to kill me.” you grumble around your own glass, half-hoping the liquor would at least spark some confidence. You felt the opposite of confident, in your stupid tight dress, scared of approaching a boy that professed his undying love for Molang on the daily. 

“Maybe he just wants to fuck you. You look hot.” Yeonjun snickers, glancing quickly over at Kai's booth— from the annoying grin on his face, you can only assume Huening is looking your way. “Go over there and tell him you’ll suck his dick if he’ll forgive you.”

"You're gross."

“You love me.” Yeonjun sneaks another look at the dancefloor; it seems he’s locked in on a target. “Gotta bounce. Yell if you need me to come and save you.” 

“I don’t want your saving,” you retort snidely as he slid his way through the crowd. 

You didn’t have any time to relish in your solitude, barely able to even take another sad sip of your cocktail— an unfamiliar body fills Yeonjun’s empty barstool in what felt like an instant, big mouth grinning like he’d been waiting for a while. 

You suppose the eyes that you had felt on you hadn’t been Kai’s after all. Yeonjun's grins could be decieving.

He orders a beer from the bartender, pretty yet odd accent slurring his words— you weren’t sure where it was from, but you sure did like it. “And another of whatever she’s drinking.” he adds, shooting a grin your way.

“Oh no, I’m alright—” you attempt to shut him down, but your voice wavers. He waves you off with a sweet laugh. 

“It’s on me, baby. You look like you need it.”

You laugh nervously. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a diss or not, even including the petname. “Oh, do I?” 

“You look stressed. Something got you down?”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. You’re not sure how to respond to any of this, really. Flirting wasn’t really your forte.  “Just a little.” 

The bartender puts down both of your drinks at once— your handsome new friend pushes yours your way, and you take it gratefully. This isn’t exactly how you wanted your night to go, but this man was hot, free drinks were free drinks, and maybe going home with someone new was a better outcome for your night than moping around alone and having to listen to your roommate get his dick wet. “Did some asshole abandon you over here? You’re far too pretty to be sitting here all sad and alone.” Your stranger croons, eyes heavy as they rake down your body, take in your dress. You squirm under his gaze. “My name’s Jake. What’s yours?” 

“Y/N.” You don’t bother addressing his earlier comment; the idea of talking about your boy problems to this very handsome boy made your skin crawl. “I like your accent, where are you from?” 

“Brisbane.” Jake gave you another pretty, blinding grin. He had a very big mouth with very white teeth. 

“…Pardon?”

“Australia.” Jake laughs. “I’m an Aussie. I was born here though.”

“Oh, I see! Are you here just to visit or do you live here? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, of course—“

“No worries, pretty girl.” He needed to stop with the petnames before you climbed him like a tree. “I live here for right now. Do you want another one of those?”

“Hm?” You looked down at your glass. You hadn’t even noticed that it was empty, just mindlessly holding it up against your lips while you latched on to every word Jake said. “Oh! Um. I’m okay, thank you!” 

Jake seems displeased with your answer. You wonder briefly if he was just trying to get you drunk. It was working. “You sure? You’re still lookin’ a little sad there, baby.” 

"I'm--"

“She said she’s fine.”  

A big hand grabs your arm without much warning, making you squeak out loud— you whip your head back fast, ready to fight, but quickly freeze at the sight of Huening towering over you with a dark but unreadable expression. His grip was bordering on painful. 

“Excuse me?” Jake retorts, face screwed up in irritation and clearly unwilling to back down from a challenge.  “You know this guy?” 

Unfortunately, you did. “Kai—“ you start, but quickly clam up; Kai shoots you a look you’ve never seen from him before, dark and feral. It twists hot in your belly just as much as it scares you. 

“She’s done. We’re leaving.” Kai hisses dangerously near your ear, loud enough for Jake to hear. You’re too shocked to respond. 

“Hey, what the hell’s your problem, man?” Jake’s griping, but it’s not doing much good— Kai tugs you up out of your seat and drags you by the wrist through the crowds and out of the back door of the club. You want to fight him, yell and kick and scream, but all you can manage is to stare incredulously at the back of his head. He hardly gave you the leeway to grab your purse. Or pay your tab. 

“Kai, what the—“ He pushes you hard against the brick wall of the club, presses himself flush against your back— you can feel the stiff bulge of his hard cock against your ass, his hot breath fan across your neck in jagged, heavy breaths. 

“You think this is fucking funny, Y/N?” he snarls, deep and nasty. His hands press yours against the brick, keeping you still against both him and the wall. “Are you trying to piss me off? Show up dressed like a slut, whore yourself out right in front of me?”

You can only get yourself to let out a strangled squeak, all too distracted by the swell of Kai’s cock, the heat of his body against yours. Was this really happening? 

“C’mon, say something.” Kai goads, rolling his hips. it takes everything in you not to moan. “Why are you being such a whore, Y/N?”

“You’re hard…” You whimper.

“I’m hard?” Kai echoes, sneers meanly. “Fuck yes I’m hard. I’m hard ‘cos you look so fucking sexy in this dress, I love your body; God, did you wear this for me?” 

You’d been telling yourself you didn’t, but you did. You absolutely did. “Uh huh…”

“Dressed up all pretty for me yet you’re letting other men call you baby? Sounds like you just want me to punish you. Is that what you want? For me to punish you?” Kai’s hands let go of yours to grab at your hips, guiding you to buck up harder against him. “You know, I thought you couldn’t take it. Thought you wouldn’t be able to handle me. But now I think you deserve to be put in your place, don’t you?” 

“Kai…” You croak weakly, keen high in your throat when Kai grinds hard right against your clothed slit, nestles his head in your neck to mouth hotly at your skin. 

“Fuck you’re wet, I can feel it. Say it. say you want me to ruin you.” 

He’s right; your pussy’s dripping. You’ve never felt this needy before in your life, and Kai hasn’t even touched you. You can’t help but be a little afraid for when he does. 

Your mind flashes back to your dreams, vivid scenes of being underneath Huening as he tore you apart completely, made you feel raw and alive in ways you didn’t think you ever could. You craved to feel even just a fraction of what you did in your dreams, finally make them a reality. 

You needed him. 

“Ruin me, Kai, please.” you beg, and you meant it. 

"Good girl, fuck." Huening curses hot under his breath, pulls himself away from you— you whine out at the loss, and Huening gives your ass a surprise slap in retaliation. You bite your lip to keep from shrieking. “Fuck, okay, we’re doing this. 7’oclock Monday, okay? My place; Taehyun won’t be home. We’ll have time to talk it out before. Don’t be late.” 

And with that, Kai once again stalks away, heads back inside the club with his hands in his pockets and head held high like he wasn’t just grinding against you moments before. You’re plastered against the wall, dress ridden up your ass, sweaty and hot and so wet it’s starting to drip down your thighs. 

You’re not sure if you’re going to be able to make it to Monday.