#maybe one day when i find out why that happens i’ll fix it but for now you guys gotta live with this bad quality i’m sorry

[tessxblxckthorn]

”you gave her a free pass just because you like the way she looks at you!“

excuse me george i love you but have you seen the way HE looks at HER??

LOCKWOOD & CO. | Season One

[pucksandpower]

Bet on It

Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader

Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you

“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.

His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.

Which is every time he’s asked.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.

“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”

He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”

You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.

“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”

“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”

His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”

You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.

“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.

“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”

You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.

Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.

“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”

His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?

“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.

On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...

Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”

A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”

You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”

He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?

***

Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.

You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.

But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.

The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.

Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.

The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.

Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.

Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.

You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.

Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.

You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.

He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.

“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.

You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.

He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.

The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.

After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.

Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.

“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.

You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.

No matter how dreamy his eyes are.

***

The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.

Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”

You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.

During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.

Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.

After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.

You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.

When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.

Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.

One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.

When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.

Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.

This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.

The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.

At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.

When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.

Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”

Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.

You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”

***

The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.

You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.

Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.

“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.

Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.

Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.

Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.

Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.

The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.

You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.

“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.

You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”

Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”

Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”

He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.

Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”

With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.

“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.

He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.

Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.

And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.

***

After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.

You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.

A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.

You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.

“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.

A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.

You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”

“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.

You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”

Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.

You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”

That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.

When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”

He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.

“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.

The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.

His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.

You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”

Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”

Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.

By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.

Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”

“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”

You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.

A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: the 2nd part for this. fem!reader. cheating. i didn’t think you would like it so much, but since you did, here’s part two.

•••

Maybe if he watched you close enough, if he kept an eye on you while he was near, Simon would get the answers he was looking for. All he wanted was a glimpse into your mind, a glint in your eyes that would give away why you’d spent those nights by his side without saying anything about it.

The mission was slowly coming to an end, and he had overheard you and Johnny talk about your plans for your time home. The Scotsman offered to go on a short trip with you to Rome, visiting the city you’d read so much about in the past year or so. Going there was a promise you made to yourself on New Year’s Day and he was more than happy to help make it happen.

“Have you introduced her to your family?” Simon asked Johnny one evening when they went out for a drink.

The younger man gave him a confused look, but once the lieutenant motioned towards the corner of the bar where you were deep in a conversation with Laswell, his lips formed a flat line and he nodded a few times. “Yeah, well, I mentioned her once to my sister, and the next thing I know, my mother’s blowing up my phone. I’d rather keep her away from this insanity,” he explained.

“Wise choice.”

He hated this. He hated to know that Johnny was dating you, he hated to keep up this nice conversation with him, all while he was struggling to find out why you cared about him back then. His mind was full of stupid ideas again, that maybe you weren’t that deeply in love with the fellow sergeant. What if he was just your backup plan? What if the one you truly wanted was him?

Fucking hell. He was truly losing his grip.

“I’m going back to the base.”

Simon looked to the side, only to find you standing there with this adorable warm smile on your perfect, kissable lips. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Johnny taking your hand, his fingers lacing with yours before he raised it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on it.

He definitely didn’t have the right to be upset about it. Yet, he felt a pang of jealousy, and he was maybe even offended by the way Johnny’s blue eyes shined when he looked at you. His mind was telling him it should be him, even though he knew it was against the regulations.

“Let me finish my drink and I’ll walk you back,” Johnny said, but you just shook your head and told him he should take his time, have fun, and maybe he should talk to the others too. “You think I’m ignoring them? Well, I do spend a lot of time in the Lt’s company, that’s true,” he mused.

After he took a glance at the empty glass next to him, Simon had an idea. “I’m done for today anyway, I can go with her if you don’t want her to go alone,” he offered.

While Johnny seemed happy that he was kind enough to go with you, you looked hesitant. Unsure. Damn, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve said you looked scared for a moment. But why would you be scared? He didn’t do anything that could scare you.

In the end you agreed, so the two of you were soon out on the street, walking side by side. The need to reach out and take your hand poisoned Simon’s mind, and he decided to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. He glanced over at you every so often, enjoying the view that he wouldn’t see for a few weeks at least.

“Why did you stay by my side in the infirmary while I was recovering?” he suddenly asked, his eyes fixed on you to see your facial expression.

And sure enough, at first you looked shocked. “What do you mean?” you inquired innocently.

With a sigh, Simon came to a halt and grabbed your wrist to make you stop as well. “I saw you there. And the doctor confirmed that you spent every night there with me while I was knocked out.”

“Look, it’s—”

“Why? I need to know,” he pressed on.

You buried your fingers into your hair as you spinned on your heels to turn away from him. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to be alone,” you admitted.

Once he took a deep breath, he was quick to blow it out. “So you stayed out of pity?”

“No! I mean… God, Ghost, I don’t know, okay? It just didn’t feel right to let you lie there on your own, I didn’t want you to wake up alone, and—”

He shouldn’t have done it, but it felt so good. Because Simon launched forward, his big palm placed on the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. At first you were frozen from surprise, but then you returned his kiss, lips moving against each other in perfect sync. He had been waiting for this for so long that he couldn’t even believe it was happening.

He was only pulled back to reality by your voice after you pulled away and took a few steps away from him. “What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “Fuck, what the hell am I doing?”

“It’s okay, we can always pretend it never happened,” he said with an aching heart.

“You don’t get it, do you?” When Simon shrugged and shook his head, you walked back to him and poked his chest with your index finger. “I’m with Johnny, this is totally against the rules, and no matter how badly I always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you, this can’t happen again. But I know it happened and it’s going to torture me now.”

With a gulp, Simon nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he said with a sigh.

To his surprise, you put a hand on his now masked cheek, a move so gentle that he was beginning to get very confused. And when you pulled down his mask, things got even more confusing, because you stood on your toes and kissed him again. This time you let yourself go, your fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair as you moaned against his lips.

“We should get going,” you said once you let him go and pulled his mask back to its place.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Instead of answering, you flashed a smile at him, making his life a living hell by playing an innocent angel. But then you curled your finger to make him come a little closer. “Neither do I. But we will have to figure it out.”

(part 3)

[neopuppy]

Bestfriend Jeno who invades readers privacy and goes through her computer filled with videos of ykyk💀

warnings. errrhhmmm🤔 masturbation, yeah..

“Damn, he really did a number on your phone.” Jeno’s fingers drag down the shatter of cracks distorting your screen, neck ticking to the side. “I can definitely fix it though.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I worked at one of those phone repair kiosks a couple summers ago, these screens cost a fortune to get fixed you know? I have a lot of leftover supplies, can probably find something in my stash that will fit.” He informs, patting your shoulder. “Means you’ll have to be disconnected all day though, is that okay?”

“I guess, have some lectures to get through and a group project to finish so I’ll be at the library most of the day if anything.”

“Alright, write down your passcode and maybe your apple log in just in case.” Jeno nods to a notebook, grabbing a pen to hand you.

“Why the log in?” You hesitate, eyeing your phone nervously.

Jeno shrugs, holding your phone out to you. “I only want to help, I know you’re kind of down on your luck right now. I understand if you want to be around when I fix it but today’s one of my only free days for the rest of the week, so..”

“No no, it’s fine.” You sigh, pushing the phone back toward him. “I might be back late, don’t know how long this meeting with my group will take. If you could leave my phone on DND? I’ll probably still be texting from my laptop.”

“Yeah, not a problem.” Jeno nods to his notebook, smiling as you scribble down your passcode and password. “I’ll get this all fixed up for you, free of charge.”

“I’ll have to repay you somehow..”

“What are friends for?” He laughs, motioning to the living room area scattered with your belongings. “Shit happens..”

“Thanks Jeno, everything you guys have done for me..” trailing off, you murmur shyly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you and Jaemin for helping me out like this.”

“Don’t worry about it, focus on school.”

After bidding you goodbye and good luck with your project, Jeno moves to his bedroom, whistling to himself as he traces down the largest crack on your phone screen. “Gosh, what a dick..”

He didn’t ask what the fight was about, the timing didn’t feel right with you sniffling as he and Jaemin helped you carry your belongings in. He never liked your boyfriend much anyway, or well, ex-boyfriend..

Jeno boiled it down to jealousy at times, whenever he’d have to witness the unfortunate public displays of affection between the two of you. It’s not that he likes you, not necessarily.. but your friendship hadn’t exactly stemmed from genuine interest in forming a platonic relationship. It just so happened that while he had one idea, your mind had already honed in and focused on another.

“Eh, I always knew he wasn’t right for you.” Jeno mumbles to himself, tapping your phone screen to the image of your now ex-boyfriend’s lips squished against your cheek. “Gross.”

Jeno gets to it, unwrapping a new razor to begin removing the old screen topper first and see the real damage. Lucky for you, he’d gifted you a durable screen protector when you’d gotten a new phone. Great for dropping, not so much for a crazy boyfriend hurling it at a wall though.

He’s pleased to see the damage is a lot more minor under the protector, mentally patting himself on the back for handling that for you in the first place. A text pops up lighting the bare screen. “Oh right, do not disturb.”

Jeno taps in the passcode, swiping down to turn off notifications only to come to a pause as another text comes in.

‘It’s easy money, I did it my first year of college to cover rent, and you're shit out of luck at this point if you think a dorm will open up this far into the semester.’

He knows he shouldn’t, but there’s no way you’d find out anyway..

‘Isn’t that prostitution?’

The last text sent from you has his eyes going wide, quickly reading through the chat between you and the name he recognizes as your best friends, the same one whose car Jaemin had found you using as a makeshift home..

‘It’s not illegal in our state, and it’s anonymous. You won’t get caught or anything. Trust me, I worked there for 11 months, best money I’ve ever made.’

Jeno mumbles a ‘what the fuck.’ To himself, opening his phone to copy down the address she sends in next.

‘Besides, what difference does it make? You were getting fucked by your asshole ex on stream for way less.’

“What?!” Jeno looks around in shock, covering his mouth in case someone else is home. An arsenal of unanswered questions race through his mind, swiping to put your phone on ‘do not disturb’ finally as he takes a deep breath to calm down.

“There’s no way..” he chuckles, licking his lips nervously as he taps open your photos and scrolls until a locked album named ‘delete’ catches his eye.

Jeno spent a year learning different ways to break into stolen phones with not even a passcode to assist, the thrill of unknown has his thumb punching away before he can even talk himself out of it. Not that he would..

Why wouldn’t you immediately delete photos or videos you wouldn’t want anyone to see anyway? You can’t be that stupid..

“Oh shit.”

You are that stupid.

Jeno groans, leaning back in his computer chair as he slowly scrolls through the album of over 1000 photos and videos, most consisting of topless shots. More scandalous as he reaches the middle and sucks in a deep breath reading the time on the first video he sees.

Eight minutes and twenty seven seconds..

Patting around for his headphones, he plugs them in and opens the video up to hit play, sinking deeper into his seat as your face appears half-fucked out with dreamy eyes and saliva wet lips.

The deeper familiar voice he recognizes as your ex’s comes through, making his stomach tighten. “Fuck.”

‘How can you ask me for more after I just fucked you full?’

‘Please daddy, n-need more.’

The camera runs down your bare body, laid back against dark sheets with your thighs hoisted up and open; panning down to where white streaks of cum paint your stomach and mound. ‘Feel that? My dicks still so hard.’

‘Keep fucking me, don’t stop fucking me. Fuck that cum deep inside of me.’

Jeno pants, short of breath as he digs the heel of his palm against his groin and groans. Fuck fuck fuck… he knew it. The past few years of having to pretend he valued your friendship more than his desire to fuck you, he always knew you were nothing but a pathetic sobbing whore. The sound of your sobs and aroused whines vibrating through his ears has him ready to make a mess, smoothing in past the waistband of his sweats to free his length, he’s thankful for the point of view shot; making it easy to tune out the masculine grunts passing between your pretty cries.

‘Fuck. I’ll breed you better than that.’ Jeno voices to himself, surprised your lazy ex didn’t make you get on top. The amount of cum covering your lower half has his hips jumping from the chair, eager to fuck into his fist faster.

One thought continues to pass through his mind as he grips around his cock and strokes to match the pace pushing you up and down along the screen.

He needs to fuck you.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

obsession

words: 2.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, reader and rafe are both crazyyy, toxic relationship, rafe being a murderer but its canon, rafe breaks into readers house

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs

the noise has you sitting up suddenly in bed, ears straining for the same sound that pulled you out of a deep sleep. you sit there for a minute before letting out a breath and laying your head back against the pillow. maybe it was a raccoon knocking over your neighbors trash can, or a car backfiring.

either way, you think you're in the clear to head back into dreamland, until there's that noise again. glass shatters and this time you know it's not at your neighbors house, it's at your front door.

you sit frozen in fear, heartbeat pounding in your ears. it isn’t until the sound of your front door opening reaches you that you spring into action. you jump up out of bed, from under the safety of your covers. your eyes briefly scan the room as footsteps ascend up the stairs, like they know exactly what their target is, exactly where you are.

your choice is between under the bed and the closet, and when your doorknob begins to turn, your throw yourself onto the rug and roll under the bed. you cover your mouth as your door opens, heavy boots entering the room. you watch as they move right up to the bed, throwing the covers onto the floor, letting out a low curse you can barely make out when you’re not there.

you watch as the boots head over to the closet, ripping the doors open. you keep your hand over your mouth, afraid to breath too loudly. you watch as the boots move closer again, until a hand is suddenly clenching down on your arm, yanking you out from under the bed.

“there you are.” rafe says, smirking down at you from your spot on the floor, your back against the rug.

“rafe!” you say, half in fear, half in relief. 

“get up.” he commands, but doesn’t even give you a chance to do it yourself, reaching down and tugging you into a standing position.

“wha-what are you doing?” you ask, pressing your hands against his chest, but not pushing him away. you and rafe have a confusing relationship. half the time his is head over heels infatuated with you, and the other half he is pretending like you don’t exist, like acting as if you're not there can quell his obsession. it breaks your heart, only for him to come back in a few days and put it back together.

“god, i’ve missed you.” rafe says, pulling you tight against his body, even as adrenaline causes you to shake, your mind going over what just happened. rafe broke into your house, because he missed you.

“rafe.” you pull yourself away from him, even as you find comfort in his hold. “you broke in!” “because i need you baby!” he says loudly, looking at you like you’re the one being unreasonable here. “and i’ll buy you a new door and get someone to install it tomorrow.”

“next time just knock, please.” you say, taking his face in your hands. “you scared me.”

“i’m sorry princess. can we cuddle, yeah?” you see the look in rafes eyes, a crazed look, that he’s not in his right mind. you’re not sure if he’s been taking drugs again or if he’s just in a bad mental state.

“yeah, come on.” you gesture to your bed, not sure what would happen if you say no, not that you ever deny rafe. he lays down as you pick your covers up from the floor. you snuggle up next to him, letting your breathing return to normal, wishing you didn’t feel the peace that you do when in his arms.

“what happened?” you ask, rubbing your hand over his chest. 

“i-i did something terrible tonight.” rafe says, hand squeezing your hip. “i really fucked up. this is why i need to leave you alone, fuck. you deserve someone better than me.” “hey, hey, shh.” you say, giving a kiss to rafes jaw as he starts to get worked up again. “i can help fix it, if you’d just tell me whats going on.” “no, i can’t. you can never know, you’d never look at me the same again.” rafe says, the emotion in his eyes replaying the horror of whatever happened. 

“come on rafe, it’s not like you killed someone.” you say with a chuckle, but rafe is quiet. far, far too quiet.

“what the actual fuck, rafe?” you sit up in your bed, looking down at him as a tear falls down his cheek. “rafe, fucking talk!” 

“i did it to save my dad.” rafe says, rubbing his hand over your thigh. “i had to, okay? and i need you to trust me about that.”

“rafe, who did you kill?” you ask, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. 

“sheriff peterkin.” rafe mumbles under his breath, but you make it out clear enough.

“you killed the fucking sheriff?” you scream, moving to get out of bed, but rafe stops you, pulling you back against him. “rafe, let me go!”

“shh, shh, baby, let me talk, okay?” rafe says, caging you tight against his body, restricting your movements. you stare up at rafe expectantly as he presses you into the mattress. “i had to. i didn’t want to. i had to. or she would have shot my dad, okay?” “why would peterkin shoot your dad?” you ask.

“it’s a long fucking story, but i need you to trust me, baby girl. i can’t have you hating me too. okay? i love you too much, so you’re gonna just be fucking calm. you’re not gonna scream, right?” rafe asks. you give a little nod. you know it’s stupid, you shouldn’t trust rafe, but you do. maybe it’s your foolish love for him blinding you to his flaws, or what they’ve awakened inside of you.

rafe lets go of you, flipping so he’s lying on his back. you curl on your side next to him, placing a hand on his stomach. “i’m scared, rafe.” “i know. this is why i try to force myself to leave you alone.” “you hurt me even more when you do that.” you say with a frown, thinking of all those times, after weeks of being happy together, of getting along, when rafe will suddenly ignore you at a party or stop answering your calls.

“i’m so sorry.” rafe takes a deep breath. “i need your help though. i need you… i need you to tell the police i was here all day, with you. they would believe you.” “okay.” you say in a whisper, “i can do that for you rafey, just no more secrets, no more trying to push me away.” “promise, princess.” rafe pulls you in so he can give you a soft kiss on the lips. “it’s us against the world now.” “i love you rafey.” you tell him honestly. 

“oh, my perfect girl.” rafe rubs your side, hand slipping under your pajama shirt. “i don’t deserve you.” “stop, don’t say that.” you say, eyes fluttering clothed as his hand moves up and down against your bare skin.

“it’s true, i don’t. you’re too perfect, too forgiving. you’ve let me hurt you so much and then still take me back.”

“no more hurting, then.” you say, moving so you’re straddling rafe. “no more hurting me. you wanna be with me, you have to let me in, stop pushing away.” “promise.” rafe says, looking up at you lovingly. you’re not sure if you believe him. he’s never once proven that he can stop hurting, stop betraying, but you’re willing to give him another chance, and another and another. 

“now let me take care of you, yeah? apologize for giving you a fright and for hurting you.” rafe says, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing and squeezing them. 

“yeah.” you nod, eyes fluttering closed as he presses you down, against his abs. rafe knows the way to truly calm you down, to truly get you to forgive him. 

“look at you.” rafe laughs as you begin to grind yourself down against him. “already cockdrunk, silly baby.” “c’mon.” you say with a whimper, wanting what rafe promised, wanting him to take care of you.

rafe flips you suddenly, hovering over you with a laugh. rafe pushes your shirt up to under your chest, the sensitive skin of you stomach on display. rafe drops down, kissing along your skin. “i love you so much.” rafe says.

“i love you too.” you whisper, tugging rafe up so he can give you a real, proper kiss. your lips connect, and you instantly moan into his mouth as his mouth dominates yours. “please fuck me.”

“let me eat you out first baby.” rafe nuzzles his nose against yours, but you pout. 

“you can eat me out in the morning. i want your cock. now.” you demand, usually not pushing rafe like this and going along with whatever he says, but he owes you right now, so he works his pants down his legs while you take off your pajama bottoms, revealing you’re not wearing underwear. rafe smiles, the wetness on your pussy shining in the low lighting.

“take this as my apology for scaring you.” rafe pushes his cock inside of you, making you cry out from the stretch, briefly regretting not letting him open you up more with his tongue or fingers until he starts to move, his warm cock searing your insides.

“so good.” you whine, spreading your legs to give rafe more room to move as he begins to snap into you. you look up at your man, a look of concentration on his face, and your heart beats faster knowing what he just confessed.

it’s not like you ever thought rafe was a good guy, at no point in your relationship did he hide the darkest parts of himself, the jealous, devious parts that contracted your good girl exterior, but what rafe never expected was to bring out the dark side in you as well.

you push rafe off, not wanting to look at his face anymore. maybe then you’ll get a sense of decency back, your morality about not letting a murderer fuck you right after confessing, but you turn on your hands and knees and present your ass for him, and you know there’s no going back.

rafe quickly repositions and enters you, his hands tight on your hips as he lets out all of his frustrations, the loud smack of his skin hitting your ass ringing out in the room.

he moves so quick you feel like your entire body could catch on fire as your high builds, needing that final touch on your clit that you know rafe isn’t going to give until he’s ready.

“so good for me baby, this is why i can never leave you.” rafe moans, tossing his head back as he pumps himself inside of you, keeping a steady rhythm as you squeeze your cunt around his cock. “i tell you i killed someone and you spread your pretty legs for me, let me in this perfect pussy.”

rafe bends over your back so his mouth is right next to your ear. “you’re a dirty fucking slut, but you’re mine.” he growls.

your arms collapse under the pressure, rafe straightening back up as your cheek presses into the mattress. rafe thrusts even harder now, determined to utterly exhaust both of you so you can pass out and worry about the consequences in the morning.

“perfect. fucking. girl.” rafe groans, accentuating each word with a thrust. you moan indeterminately, letting him know just how good it feels as his fingers leave bruises from how tight he’s gripping your skin, yet another mark that rafe cameron is going to leave on you, not all of them visible, but you wouldn’t trade back the trauma for anything if it means being with him.

you muster up all the strength that you can, forcing your body to move even as it cries out to give in, to give up, but you push yourself back up, making rafe lose balance as he falls back on the bed.

you turn so you can see his face as you sink onto his cock. “you’re mine too.” you remind him, bucking your hips as you ride rafe, ignoring the burn in your thighs. “don’t fucking forget it.”

you bend down, using your entire body to move back on his cock, bouncing and grinding in a frantic rhythm. “and never leave me again. never keep shit from me.” rafe looks up at you in awe, reaching a hand to tangle in your hair as he pulls you into an intense kiss, a clash of biting teeth and slipping tongues.

“i fucking love you.” rafe groans against your mouth as you clench around him, feeling his cock swell inside of you, signaling he’s close.

you sit back up, bringing a hand to your pussy, working your clit with two fingers as you keep bouncing, letting yourself go when you feel rafes hips push up against yours, releasing his cum inside of your heat. you slump forward as you climax, moaning into rafes chest.

“baby, you are something else.” rafe rubs a hand over your back as you come down from your orgasm, keeping sat on his cock, not wanting to give it up just yet.

“mmm, you brought out something in me.” you say, turning to press a kiss to his chest. “and you can’t just take it back now.”

[rabesbabe]

I like the way you kiss me pt.2

sam carpenter x reader

i like the way you kiss me pt.1

A/N: Hey guys!! So this is the second part to my newest series! I’ve been trying to decide if this should be the last part or if I should do one more so let me know! Also you guys are able to ask for requests now and i’ll make a page with who I write for!! (Also this fic is not proofread pls excuse my typos lmao)

Summary: You go to a party Mindy and Chad host and “coincidentally” Sam is there…

—————————————————————————

After that day you hadn’t really talked to Sam besides necessary conversations you guys would have to have when you went over to hang out with Tara. Which you seemed to be doing more

and more of recently noticing the two of you actually make a pretty good duo.

One day you were getting smoothies with Tara when you felt like you should tell her about what happened with Sam.

“Tara?” “Hm?” She replied, mouth full of the strawberry banana smoothie she was drinking. “Do you remember how Sam acted when she met me that first time?” You asked looking at her. “Yeah but I told you not to worry about it I swear she’ll get used to you at some point she just isn’t exactly a people person.” Tara shrugged. “No that’s not it,” you sighed. “The day before that, I met Sam at the grocery store and I slid her my number. And that night we talked for like 3 hours before I hung up.”

Tara looked at you confused. “You slipped my sister your number…” you looked down waiting for her to yell at you for talking to her sister. “AND SHE ACTUALLY CALLED YOU?” She smirked at you. “God, I knew you were fine but not fine enough to create a miracle!” You looked up at her almost choking on your smoothie at her words. “That was your takeaway from what I just told you? You’re not mad? Or even sad?” “God no.” She replied “I’m just shocked my sister actually made an attempt at being a normal person. No wonder she acts so weird whenever I mention you. She totally likes you y/n.”

That night you think about Tara’s words a lot. Did her sister actually like you? Whenever you were around her she seemed like she was seconds away from punching you in the face. But, maybe that’s just how she is. She’s not exactly bubbly. You think about the time Tara left the apartment for a bit while you were there to go do something, leaving you and Sam alone. Sam couldn’t keep her eyes off of you. But she also didn’t dare utter a word to you. She always left you confused and wondering what was going on inside her mind.

That week you and Tara went over to Mindy and Chads place. Tara decided to find something cute for you to wear and she did your makeup. You weren’t sure why she was dressing you up so much but you let her anyway as it was fun.

As you arrived at the door Tara fixed your hair up and you gave her a weird look as you were still confused why she was trying so hard to make sure you looked good even though you were just seeing friends. You handed her the wine glass you brought as a gift before knocking on the door. After knocking you hear familiar voice say “I’ll get it.”

To your surprise as the door opens you’re met with a wide eyed Sam looking you up and down. She mumbles a quick “Hi” to you before moving over to let you in. After giving Mindy and Chad hugs you look over at Tara and Sam talking.

“You didn’t tell me you were inviting her Tara.” Sam says. “I didn’t think I needed to Sam? We’re constantly together it should’ve been a given.” Tara says raising an eyebrow at Sam. “Plus why do you care? You’re very clearly enjoying the sight of her.” Tara gives a small smirk to a slightly open mouthed Sam who is clearly shocked her sister caught on to her not so secretly checking out her friend.

As the night goes on the drunker and drunker everyone gets. You guys talk for hours, play games and watch dumb reality tv shows. “Who wants to play a classic game of drink or spill!?” Says a very very drunk Mindy. “What a good idea lil’ sis” exclaims Chad. “You know you’re only a few minutes older right?”

“Can we please start playing before you two get into a fight and ruin all the fun?” Sam says rolling her eyes. You all sit in a circle in their living room waiting for Mindy to ask questions. “Tara,” Mindy says, “how many people in the room would you kiss?” “Oh come on, that one’s easy! Three.” Tara says. “Thank god.” Sam replies letting out a fake sigh while laughing.

“Y/N, sweet, gorgeous, lovely, y/n.” Mindy says in a jokingly sweet voice. “Who in this room would you say no to if they asked you out?” You let out a chuckle, “if it wasn’t obvious before, I’m sorry Chad I’m just not into your uhm…kind?” You give a fake apologetic smile. You make eye contact with Sam who looks at you shocked. Obviously thinking she was going to be the one you would say no to. You give her a small smile before she looks away.

The rest of the night is a drunken blur for you. You can’t help but notice Sam staring at you all night and wonder if you look insanely hot or like a drunk mess. Later on you decide to go find Tara who’s probably making out with Chad somewhere to tell her you guys should head home.

“Tara?” You ask while knocking on Chads room door. “If you and Chad are in there eating each other’s faces please take this as a warning to stop before I walk in.” Suddenly the door opens and you see Sam smiling at your remark.

“Hi, Sam.” You say awkwardly. To your surprise she opens the door more for you to come in. “So my sister and Chad huh?” You nod. Confused as to why she’s talking to you. But then you think about the fact that she drank 5 shots during the game you guys played. She sits down on the bed in the room looking at the floor avoiding your eyes. And you join her. “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a bitch to you y/n.” “It’s fine I guess?” You say confused as to why she would apologize now. “I really liked you that night we talked Sam. I wish you gave me a chance.” She looked up at you finally making eye contact. She stared at you for a second as if she was thinking about something.

Before you could think more she leaned closer to you, grabbed around your waist and kissed you. Only for a moment but just enough to show you she meant it.

“Im sorry,” She said looking away from you when you didn’t say anything. “That was more than okay Sam.” You smile at her and she kisses you again. This time more passionate and confident.

“Y/n!” Tara’s voice calls out a little before the door to the room bursts open. Tara’s eyes go wide at the sight of you and her sister and she stares for a moment before laughing. You and Sam look at her in bewilderment. “Thank god!! I was so sick of you two undressing each other with your eyes all night.” Sam scoffs at her boldness. “As much as I hate to break this up we need to go y/n we have class tomorrow.” Tara says as if she’s not gonna be insanely hungover the next morning. You stand up and smile at Sam. “Call me?” She says before you walk out. And you nod with a goofy smile plastered on your face.

[saltofmercury]

As someone who has just fallen for König, thank you for the reading material. He's just more adorable now. May I request a 'there was only one bed' trope with König? If you don't feel comfortable with it or need anything else please let me know. <3

First of all, very very special thank you. You are the first to make me think of TWO ideas for this prompt but I will be publishing that one later.

Second, I’m surprised I never thought of this prompt for myself!

Anyway I love u and I hope you like this version and I’ll tag ya in the second one.

“There’s only one.”

At the start of your relationship, König was polite. Too polite. Maybe it was the cultural differences or the military instilled in him but between you two but he always kept his distance from you.

He asked to hold your hand when many other men would just simply grab your hand and intertwine their fingers against yours.

He asked if he could have a kiss, it was cute, almost innocent the way he asked as if he would get in trouble if he stole one.

Further down your relationship when you spent the night at each other’s houses he would leave you in his room while he took the couch. Same thing when he stayed at your house. He took your couch and never gave it a second thought.

You always respected this, even appreciated that he was so gentle with you, he was never one to be so forward with you, but it was just eating you up inside… does he really like me?

*

One afternoon while you two were building a puzzle together he casually brought up a “holiday” for you two.

“It’s not far, it’s technically up north from where we are now.”

You looked up at him from the table still holding a blue piece clearly not finding its spot. Was this extra?

“You want to go up north?” You say, still concentrating if the manufacturer had given you 501 pieces instead.

“I think it would be fun. A change of environment” he had said simply. He looked down now hoping you would say yes. He was fidgeting in the middle of the puzzle. König was so backwards to you. He worked on the middle of the puzzle and then slowly worked out.

You thought it over.

It was harmless, you needed a break from work and you craved a little more interaction, affection from him.

“Okay let’s do it.”

*

The ride up north should have been long, tedious, and never ending. Surprisingly it had become a great window of opportunity for the two of you. He told you about his childhood. A restless, dangerous, and tornado of a child in his backyard.

You loved when he talked to you about his childhood, it helped you piece together the guy that he was today. You laughed and smiled at all his expressions, his concentration to storytelling.

When you had arrived at the hotel, he took the opportunity to unpack for you and carry your luggage as you went to reserve a spot for dinner.

You requested an outside table, the wait would be about 30 minutes, right as the host called out to you, and he appeared in front of you half an hour later.

“Jesus,” you said sarcastically.

“Was pretty sure you abandoned me.”

He smiled at you, “No, just last minute details I needed to fix.”

You wanted to ask what details he was referring to, but the waiter approached your table to discuss specials.

*

It wasn’t until after dinner that you noticed him off. He kept fidgeting and finding an excuse to not go to the hotel.

“Do you want to see the park?” “Maybe there’s a fun event happening tonight.”

It has been a pretty long drive and a long day. What you really wanted to do was unwind for the day, shower, and wear cozy pajamas.

“No, maybe tomorrow, why don’t we go back?”

He looked nervous. Took a deep breath and agreed.

“Okay, let’s go back.”

*

You approached the hotel, rushed upstairs with him. Commenting on their choice of artwork.

Would you look at the rug? Gosh it makes me feel dizzy.

Look at this picture, it’s teal and the carpet is red!

He responded with small hums.

He opened the door for you, you ran inside the bathroom. You needed to wash away the sweat and grime of the day.

Once finished, you stepped outside, looking for your lotion and pj’s. You saw König sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows to his knees, rubbing his hands in circles.

“Are you washing your hands there?” You joked.

He said nothing. You kneeled toward your suitcase, got ready for bed in the bathroom.

“You okay there?” König kept fidgeting with his hands. Why did he seem ..Anxious? You approached him.

“Are you alright?”

He spoke softly, “There’s only one bed.”

“So?” Then it hit you.

Bed. (Singular)

One bed. (Sharing?)

König was sitting at the edge of ONE bed.

Maybe the universe had finally pushed aside the boundaries that König had been so fixated on. You had secretly said a small prayer —thank you so very much.

“Is that a problem?” You asked.

“No.” He was firm, but quickly added “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. I didn’t plan this.”

You laughed. Only König would think because you shared one bed with one another it was malicious on his part.

“Would you stop it?” You shook your head and pulled him up towards the bed. You pulled back the sheets, nestled the pillows up around you. You pat down the side next to you and wiggled your eyebrows. He settled in. You settled yourself right next to him, a leg over his, an arm over him.

“This is okay. This is more than okay. This is the best..” you yawned

He was stiff. “… dove”

but as he peered down at you, seeing how relaxed you were, you closed your eyes against him, he then got comfortable with you.

“This is okay.” He says back. A confirmation. “The best.”

His heart warmed up with the thought of you being so comfortable, so at peace with him. You didn’t even think twice about sharing a bed with him and he did. Maybe he needed to shut off his brain when it came to you because this felt like home. This felt better than the couch.

He made a mental note of this moment.

It isn’t until weeks later that he confesses to you one night as you snuggle up next to him at his house —

“I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner…Sleeping next to you is easy.”

[cultofdixon]

A little pain with your pleasure

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Adrenaline is a crazy natural drug and you’re driving them crazy with how calm you are • SFW/Small Angst • TW: Stab wounds

Requested by: Anon

“What you got there?”

Glenn’s voice not only startled the poor guy but even cut through Daryl’s thoughts that he forgot for a split second what he had in his hand.

“A Walkman. Found one on a past run”

“Oh, neat. Did you find some cassettes for it? I think there’s like a box of them in the warden’s office but those could also be confessional tapes and I don’t think I wanna know about why a prisoner ended up in prison”

“Me neither. It’s for Y/N. I found some cassettes with it when I found it. Queen, Elton John,…I think there was a Micheal Jackson one. I don’t know.” Daryl scratches the side of his face as he thought about another cassette before shrugging it off. “It was broken when I found it and Sasha helped me fix it for her.”

“Well ain’t that awful sweet of you” Glenn smirks bringing himself to sit across from him on the picnic table. Daryl instantly glaring at the man knowing where he could be going. “I wanna be there when you give it to her. I know she’ll be super excited getting that from you”

“The fuck you mean by that?” Daryl snapped slightly as Glenn shrugged with a smirk. “Speaking of Y/N. Have you seen her?”

“I was actually gonna ask you the same thing. She said if she decided on a 3-Day run that she would help me with the south fence repair when she came back” Glenn sighs running his hand through his hair. “Think she’s out for a week?”

“Mm. Better not. She promised me she’d help with the snares”

“Oh she promised you but didn’t promise me? Obviously she likes a certain someone more than me” He really didn’t catch the hint that Daryl hated the teasing and the glare made him realize he should stop before he’s tossed into a walker. “Okay fine. Mind helping me with the fence and I’ll help you with the snares”

Daryl sighs, nodding picking up the Walkman and going to put it away before helping Glenn with the fence.

After a while, the fence was done, and the two split into the nearby woods to check the snares at a faster pace compared to doing it together. Even if Daryl would’ve spent hours in the woods if it meant being with Y/N.

Daryl made his way toward the snares closer to the front gates, liking to go from the furthest to the closest snares so he could head right in when he’s done. But he was also going to check Glenn’s work on setting up the traps back up. He suddenly halted when he heard footsteps, causing him to ready his crossbow for a walker but relaxed when the bloodied dirty figure came into view.

“Jesus Christ”

“What?” Y/N laughs nervously. “Is there something on my face?”

“Yeah blood and dirt” Daryl scoffs bringing himself close, resting his hand on her cheek brushing off some of the dirt from her cheek. “The fuck happen on your run?”

“Oh that’s a great story so—-“

“Y/N!” Glenn shouted her name while also making it clear of his presence coming up behind Daryl and eventually to his side. “What took you so long getting back?!”

“Well it’s uh a short story—-“

“Glenn I just asked them about the run. Did yea finish the snares on your side?”

“Yeah I did, now Y/N?”

“Yeah…how was the run?”

“Well I got stabbed in the back” Her expression tensed watching the two start their lines of questioning. But every chance she tried to correct she kept getting cut off.

“What do you mean you got stabbed in the back?”

“Let me start with how it hap—“

“Where is this guy? I thought you went on the run alone”

“I did go alone Im trying—-“

“This guy is dead meat if he tries to come after yea. Plenty of fighters here” Daryl stated as Glenn nods in agreement.

“Who would turn on you? Maybe it was—-“

“SHUT UP!” Y/N shouted, resulting in a wince that definitely confused the two. But her face returned to the discomfort it had before running into Daryl. “I got literally stabbed in the damn back” she turned to show the two the knife that was embedded deep in her shoulder.

No more words were said. All Daryl did was smack Glenn forcing him in the direction of the gates to get them opened. Y/N frowns watching him bring himself to her back to feel around the wound before, without warning, rip her flannel open and forced her to take it off.

“You owe me!”

“Just wait til we get inside. Hershel is gonna want to see it and he’s gonna have to cut your shirt anyway”

“Doesn’t mean you had to rip my favorite flannel!” Y/N shouted as Daryl watched her back tense and the knife shift.

“Stop shouting and let’s get yea inside” Daryl scoffs taking her pack from her and directing her back to the prison.

While Hershel stitched her up, Y/N was telling them the story of how it happened. How this stranger that passed the 3 questions decided to just turn on her and try to kill her for her stuff. It wasn’t a pretty scene and given how Y/N felt about killing people, she was only late in her return because she didn’t want to come back feeling the way that she did. That part she didn’t tell them. She just fibbed by saying she lost the car she had. After being patched up, Y/N made her way back to her cell in need of clean clothes and a shirt that isn’t in pieces.

“Hey”

Y/N stopped right before her cell to acknowledge Daryl. “Hey”

“Your back feelin’ any better?”

“Having stitches suck” She laughs it off, no longer wincing from her back. “Maybe next time I’ll bring you on the run”

“I’ll keep yea safe” Daryl murmurs, leaning against the metal doors as Y/N brought herself close leaning with him.

“Next time the knife will be in your back” She jokes receiving a breathy chuckle in response. “You know I’m kidding…I’ll always have your back out there Dar” she whispers as she brought her lips to his cheek keeping her hand planted on his chest. “Thanks for worrying about me”

Before she pulled away too far, Daryl gently grabbed her waist pulling her into him. He admired her features for a moment then planted his lips firmly onto hers. Y/N was taken back but relaxed almost instantly, bringing her arms around his neck keeping him close.

When they parted, Daryl pulled away a little while taking the torn shirt from her hands.

“I’ve got a surprise for yea. But I also have a shirt…we just. Need to go to my cell for both”

Y/N couldn’t contain her smile as she took his free hand. “Lead the way Dixon”

[navybrat817]

Your landlord is elusive. You've been calling him for weeks about the broken washing machine, your rent checks have gone uncashed, and you can't even leave a voicemail.

When he finally shows up, bloody and bruised, it seems there's more than the washer to tend to.

Oh, this is long overdue.

You Get What You Pay For

Pairing: God the Bounty Hunter x Female Reader Summary: Your landlord shows up expectedly after weeks of radio silence and prefers a different form of payment as you patch him up. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Injuries, b/lood, v/iolence, implied n/oncon (you have been warned), God the Bounty Hunter (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: For Roo and @the-slumberparty 's May challenge. Prompt in bold italics. Beta read by @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"I’m sorry, but the mailbox you are trying to reach is full."

With a sigh, you hung up the phone and took your laundry basket to the bathroom. Your landlord hadn’t answered a single call of yours in weeks, which was about how long you had gone without a working washing machine. And because you couldn’t leave a message and didn’t know how to fix it yourself, you had to resort to washing your clothes in the tub. You refused to go into town to use the laundromat or call someone to repair it. Not because you didn’t have the money to pay, but because you didn’t want anyone to see your face.

He wouldn’t know to look for me here though, would he?

You suddenly missed your old apartment as you turned the water on. It was warm and cozy, the opposite of the cold, quiet place you now occupied. You tried to brighten it up with flowers, but the house wasn’t a home. Maybe one day, years from now, you could go back to the city.

If it was ever deemed safe enough for you to return.

Your stomach sank as you pulled up your bank account to check the balance. It was much higher than it should have been. Not only was your landlord not answering his phone, but he hadn’t cashed a single one of your rent checks. The instructions were clear that he didn’t accept direct deposit or cash from tenants. Only checks made out to a rental property. Thankfully you opened a new account before you found the place, knowing better than to use your old account in case anyone checked it for paper trails.

Why isn’t he cashing my checks?

You shut the water off and got to work, doing your best not to let your mind race. Was your landlord ignoring you? Possibly. He was a bit of an enigma. A handsome man, but still an enigma. In fact, you had only seen him once and he told you to call him God when he introduced himself. The cold look in his blue eyes told you it wasn’t a joke as he unceremoniously put the keys in your hand.

“Welcome home.”

What if he found out what I did? Will he kick me out? Where will I go? What if someone found out I'm living here and went after him? If something happened to him because of me…

You had gone most of your life with keeping your head down and minding your own business, but it wasn't living. Opportunities slipped by because you either played it safe or didn't have the means to otherwise. So you got a little bold and maybe a little greedy. Why else had you stolen from a powerful man? He wasn’t a good man and you didn’t think he’d notice anything missing, but that was no excuse to rob him. You should’ve known he didn’t miss a thing.

And I was so careful until he caught me.

"I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch."

Looking back, you weren’t sure how you managed to get away. It was all a blur. He didn't call the cops. He wanted to take care of you himself. If he ever got his hands on you, he’d tear you apart before you begged for death. Because no one who crossed him lived to tell their tales. How far would he go to find you? What if he found God and made him an offer to sell you out?

Maybe it was time for you to move on to another place.

"First aid kit."

You spun around and caught yourself before you fell to the ground, your heart in your throat. In the doorway stood the very man you were trying to get ahold of, his short brown hair disheveled and sporting a black eye and blood on the corner of his mouth. Were you so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear him enter the house? Or was he that quiet?

"Are you going to help me or stare at me?" he asked, clutching his ribs as he took a step inside. "And here I thought you were a hospitable tenant."

"Sorry," you whispered, tightening your robe. He hardly gave you any room as you got the kit out from under the sink. The bathroom wasn’t that small, so why was he practically on top of you? "Here, let me help."

You carefully guided him to the toilet, but he didn't seem to need your help. Even sitting down, his size and presence intimidated you. Was that blood on his torn shirt? And his jeans, too?

What the hell happened to him? Or does that blood belong to someone else?

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy," he answered dryly. "You should see the other guy."

You weren't going to push for him to say more.

He didn’t flinch as you cleaned the blood from his face. He didn’t take his eyes off you either as you carefully looked him over. You tried to ignore his stare, but the silence grew more uncomfortable with each second that passed.

"Why are your clothes in the bathtub?" he asked, surprising you by yanking on the tie to your robe. It, thankfully, didn’t open. "You know there's a washer for that."

"I'm aware that there's a washer, but it isn't working and you didn't answer your phone," you said, keeping your tone light instead of accusatory.

"Is that right? And you couldn't use the laundromat in town until you could get in touch with me?" he asked, an amused look in his eyes as you went rigid. Why did that gaze make you more uncomfortable than his previous dull stare? "I’ll look at it later. Sure it won’t take me long to fix it."

“I appreciate that," you said, wondering when you should mention the uncashed rent checks. "But let's get you taken care of first."

He grunted before he removed his shirt, tossing the garment in the tub with your clothes. "What’s one more, right?" he asked, sitting back and gesturing to his muscular torso littered with bruises and minor cuts. "Don’t think they’re too bad, but I’d prefer if you check."

"You do know I’m not a nurse, right?" you asked, even as you moved to look him over. There was a particularly dark bruise by his ribs, which was likely why he held them as he walked in. "just saying in case you wanted a professional opinion or if anything is really sore."

He hummed as your fingertips brushed along his skin. "Told you I'm peachy. And I'm sure you would’ve made a fine nurse if you really wanted to be one."

Your heart thudded in your chest at his use of the past tense, like you would never get the chance. Maybe your paranoia was getting the better of you. It was a simple statement. It didn’t mean a thing.

"School can be pretty expensive though," he went on with a tilt of his head. "Is that what kept you back? Finances?"

Your stomach turned at the question. He didn't blink and you hoped your expression didn't give your nerves away. Did he know? If he did, why dance around it?

"May I ask what happened?" you questioned as he furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry. It's none of my-"

"I killed some people."

Tension spiked in the small room, a nervous laugh escaping as you tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Dry humor occasionally went over your head. "You what? Y-You killed some people?"

"Yeah, I did. I kill a lot of people. Usually for money." he said unemotionally, clamping a hand around your wrist when you tried to pull away. "Not why I did it this time."

The ring on his third finger dug into your skin as you fought down the bile rising to your throat. He wasn't just an enigma. He was a killer. A man who spoke so casually about murder. Were you about to become his next victim? "Are you going to kill me?"

"Now why would I do that?" he asked as he stood, keeping a firm grip on you as he backed you against the sink, your legs almost giving out. "After everything I did for you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You think I didn't do my research on you? I can spot when someone's on the run, sweetheart. Though I didn't peg you for a thief," he answered as your eyes brimmed with tears. The sight didn't seem to inspire any sympathy considering he smiled. "You stole money from a powerful man. Dangerous, too. And you really thought hiding out here would save you?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, finding it harder to breathe as he stepped closer. It wasn't an empty apology. You made a stupid mistake. "I tried to give it back, but he-"

"I don't care why you did it," he dismissed, toying with the tie of your robe again. "He was an asshole who robbed people blind for years. I did the world a favor by killing him."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "He's really gone?" you asked, shaking a bit when he yanked the robe open. "What are you doing?"

"I killed him and his bodyguards before they could get to you. They got a few lucky hits in. Stroked their egos a bit before I took them out," he went on like he hadn't heard you, grazing his fingertips along your skin. "I took a big risk going after him for you. Very high profile."

"I didn't ask you to do that," you tried to reason.

"And since no one paid me and you kind of owe me for saving you," he continued, his fingers stopping just above your mound. "I decided I'm going to keep you."

You weren't sure if it was a form of shock you were experiencing because your mind screamed at you to fight, but you couldn't move. You could hardly find the word to speak. "Keep me?"

"Yeah. Keep you. Gets lonely sometimes," he shrugged, gazing unashamedly at your exposed chest. "Plus I wanted to fuck you the moment you showed up here. Now I can whenever I want."

Your eyes widened as he lifted his gaze to yours, a flash of darkness in his eyes when you tried, and failed, to shove him back. "You can't just keep me!" you blurted out, trying not to panic. You couldn't stay trapped there with him. Was he delusional in thinking you'd agree to that?

"Did you not hear what I said? I saved your life. You should be thanking me," he said, frowning when you glanced toward the door. Maybe you could break free. "What, you think you can run away? Get help? No one is going to save you from me."

He was right. You had no one to go to. What if you did and he went after them? Who would help you when you couldn't help yourself?

"Please, let me go," you begged, your tears spilling over as he spun you to face the mirror. You hissed as your hips dug into the counter, but your discomfort didn't matter to him. "You can have the money. All of it. I won't tell anyone. I swear!"

"I don't want your money," he said, kicking your feet apart. You felt his arousal as he pressed against you and it was enough to make you whimper. "Why do you think I haven't cashed your checks?"

"God, please," you said, shutting your eyes when he wrapped his hand around your throat. You didn't want to see his dark desire in the reflection.

"You'll say that again before I'm done with you and you'll watch as I take my first payment," he promised, your heart dropping as your new reality began to sink in. "Now be good and welcome me home."

Oh, what have I done? Love and thanks for reading!

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[the-froschamethyst4]

Playing in the rain

𖤐Pairing: Father! Price x Mother! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, language, good father Price, daddies girl, kissing, married couple, children, kissing, parents flirting,

𖤐Summary: It's raining in Manchester and Iris wants to go play outside

————

————

Iris stayed home from school today, the roads were closed due to flooding and some buses couldn’t get to students to pick them up.

Iris watched as the water droplets fall on the window and run down them like they were racing each other. Her mother Y/n was in the kitchen fixing Iris a grilled cheese as she also was holding baby Beau to her chest as she fixed lunch.

“Iris baby, do you want soup?”

“No. Just the grilled cheese,” Iris says, still looking out the window.

Y/n looks up and sees her daughter watching the rain. Y/n remembers a time where she use to enjoy the rain.

“Iris, why don’t you get changed into some better clothes and go grab your raincoat and boots?”

“Okay, mama,” Iris gets off the little seat next to the window and heads upstairs to her bedroom to change like her mother had asked her to.

Y/n places the freshly made grilled cheese on a plate and pushed it on the counter to where she knows Iris will sit. And right on time, Iris comes down raincoat and boots in hand and she climbs on the stool to eat.

“When you get eating I’ll help you put everything on, and we can head outside.”

“Okay!” She sounded excited. “Mama, will you joy me on playing in the rain?”

“I wish I could baby, but I have to keep Beau with me and so I also make sure he doesn’t get sick, but I think daddy is coming home soon, maybe he’ll join?”

Iris just smiles at the mention of Price coming home.

As Iris was eating, her mom eating as well and trying to make sure Beau was still asleep, Iris would tell her mom about random things that happened at school.

Like a kid starting a food fight and milk landed on her.

Or the time where the teacher yelled at everyone for no reason.

And the time where Price ended up picking Iris up a bit early to have lunch together.

Y/n knew the first two were just fake, she wanted to make her school life seem a bit interesting but the last one, may be true. Y/n has even gotten phone calls about Iris's school for not showing up to school when Price would have to drop her off at school. And comes to find out Price thought maybe him and Iris should do father-daughter days.

Even before Beau was born. Nowadays, Iris is attached to Price and Beau is attached to Y/n.

Y/n bent down helping Iris put her jacket on and making sure Iris put the right boots on the correct foot. Once Y/n opened the front door Iris darted out and started to splash in puddles as Y/n was under the awning watching her daughter play.

She splashes and kicks the water up, she then sees mud at the edge of the driveway and puts her hands in it, squeezing the mud between her small fingers and laughing before finding a big puddle to clean her hands off the best she could.

Soon a black chevy impala pulls into the driveway, Iris immediately knew who it was and ran to the driver side door when the impala stops.

The door opens and Iris is greeted with a deep thick accent. She's then picked up by her father, he kisses her cheek and set her back on the concrete.

"What are you doing at out? It's raining," Price says, bending down to Iris's level, he was letting himself get wet just to listen to his daughter.

"It looked like fun to play in the rain, and mama said we could come outside," Iris tells her daddy.

Price looks at his wife standing under the little roof above the porch as she smiles and gently pats Beau's back.

"I see, why don't I join my baby girl?" Price says as he removes his gear but was left in his tight dark green shirt, his famous bucket hat, his camo pants and boots.

He watches as Iris jumps in puddles and splashes Price, he does the same but make sure it's not a lot to completely cover her cold water. Price then picks up Iris and he tilts his head back catching water in his mouth and Iris follows his lead.

Y/n smiles at her husband and daughter. "Alright I hate to ruin the fun, but why don't you both come in and warm up before you both could catch a cold," she says as Price smiles and walks under the roof and kissed Y/n's lips as they all walked into the house together.

----------

Y/n rubbed a towel on Price's head as he lets out a loud dad sneeze. Scaring Y/n but also making her laugh.

"You sneeze so loud."

"I can't help it," he sounded stuffed up.

"You're sick aren't you?"

"Must've been the rain," he sneezes.

"Well, you didn't have anything protecting you from the rain like Iris and she's not even sick."

"True, true," he sniffles and Y/n sits next to him on the bed.

"You're a good father."

"And you're the best mother." Price leans in and kisses Y/n's lips.

"And you probably just got me sick as well," Y/n says with a smile.

"That's fine, then I get to take care of you, like you do with me," Price smirks.

"Do you two always kiss each other?" Iris's small voice was heard from their shared bedroom doorway.

"Get to bed, young lady," Price says. Iris takes off down the hall giggling making Y/n and Price laugh. "Yes, I do kiss you whenever I want to."

"You are such a flirt," she pushes his face away.

"Only for you," his arm wraps around her waist pulling her close to his chest. Iris came back and looked at her parents, Y/n on her husband's lap as they were talking, Y/n spoke about early today and Price looked at her like he could listen to her for HOURS.

Iris knows her parents love each other very much, Price felt like someone was watching him and his wife, he looks passed Y/n for a few seconds and saw Iris. He motions for her to 'come here' which she follows and crawls on the bed with her parents.

Price pulls her into his side as Y/n moves some of Iris's hair from her face as Y/n was still talking.

-----------

It was around eleven at night and Price was still up watching some of the Bluey cartoon, Y/n was asleep her head resting on Price's chest, her arm draped over his stomach as Iris was asleep cuddled up to his arm. He hasn't moved for 3 hours.

Which is also the reason he can't sleep, he doesn't want to wake his girls up and has to deal with two grumpy girls on his hands, he knows that lesson, and is probably the only trait Iris has picked up from her mother. Don't bother sleeping women, they want their rest.

Price yawns closing his eyes but his eyes shot open feeling Y/n move around thinking it might have been his doing, he bites his bottom lip and watches her just roll over on her side facing away from Price.

Price let's out a soft sigh before turning to look at Iris his eyes met with Iris's blue eyes.

"Iris."

"Daddy...why aren't you asleep?"

"I just can't."

"Do you want some milk?"

"Milk?"

"Yeah, mama gives me milk if I can't sleep."

"I guess," Price yawns, Iris gets off the bed and Price gently moves his arm from his wife's grasp and followed Iris to the kitchen. He pulls the fridges door open as Iris climbed on the counter to get a glass which Price ended up getting her off the counter and putting her on the floor and poured his own glass of milk and then giving the gallon to Iris and helped her pour her own glass.

They both stayed in the kitchen for some times now before heading back upstairs. Price checked on Beau and he seemed happy as ever, and follows Iris to her bedroom tucking her into bed and kissing her temple.

"Daddy."

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me a story?"

"Okay...like what, baby?"

"Like...how you and mama met?"

"Didn't I already tell you that story?"

"Maybe...but I wanna hear it again," she smiles up at him.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you it."

Y/n woke up to an empty bed, no husband and no daughter. She yawns and rubs her eyes before removing the covers off her body and heading down the hall where she could hear John's deep thick accent voice.

She stops and leans against the wall just outside of Iris's bedroom listening in. Then she realized he's telling Iris the first time her and Price met. Her heart clenches when Iris was asking questions about if he thought it was love at first sight?

"Yeah...I think so," Price says with a smile. "If it wasn't love you and Beau wouldn't be here with us, enjoying life together."

"Would Beau and I be with different parents?" Price didn't know how to answer that.

"Umm~ y-yeah," he stutters. "Anyways...good night baby," he kisses her forehead.

"Good night, daddy." Price turns off her lamp and gently shuts the door and saw Y/n. "Jesus! I'm going to put a bell on you," he says holding his chest like he was going to have a heart attack.

"That can be arranged," she grabs his shirt leading him back to he bedroom.

"Oh fuck."

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) To Summon a Demon: Chapter 1

I’m attempting to write my first Hazbin Hotel fanfic. I don’t know how it’s going to go as I don’t normally write so much as I draw. I’m nervous but I’m also having fun with it so here’s the first chapter of my first fanfic titled “How (Not) To Summon a Demon”. Also, I’m writing this solo with no beta reader so sorry for typos, mistakes, etc. If you point them out, I’ll go back and fix them. Thank you!

Alastor x Reader

Warnings: demon rituals, stupid decisions, ghosts, paranormal activity

Feedback is welcomed! I might also move this to Ao3 depending on how well it does. 😊 Enjoy! 😊

Summoning rituals have been a pain in the ass for demons everywhere in Hell. Even lowly sinners with barely a sigil to their name could be summoned should a mortal find the right way. It was worse for those with higher power, demons who ruled over certain humanely aspects such as fertility, hearth, or revenge. Throughout the decades, as humanity build past the spiritual and focused more on science, less and less demons were being summoned. Now, the denizens of hell could roam peacefully, spending their miserable afterlives how they saw fit without the worry of being dragged topside.

That is, until one curious mortal just so happened to stumble upon such a book.

—

“Veronica, this is stupid!” you claim, cringing at the dust covered debris you were stepping over. For some god awful reason, you had decided to entertain your roommate and follow them into an abandoned house. Normally, old houses didn’t bother you. You were intrigued in the history, thinking about the people who might’ve lived in them before Mother Earth took them back. Yet this one in particular was just unnerving.

Nestled in one of the many bayous of south Louisiana, this old plantation looking home was wrapped in moss and vines, the swampland quite literally devouring the structure. The floors were barely holding your weight, groaning with every step you took forward as you tried to keep up with your very enthusiastic friend.

Veronica turned her flashlight at you, blinding you momentarily. “This isn’t stupid! It’s experimental!” she moved the light off you, using it to scan the room you were in, a bedroom on the second floor. It was filled with a bed, a dresser missing drawers, and a nightstand. The wallpaper was peeling and the light fixture had fallen years ago. You mindfully step over the glass.

“Just imagine what could be in here,” she spoke, examining the nightstand. “Not just the memories, but the potential of ghosts!”

“Ghosts,” you scoff. “The only thing here is trash, trash, and more trash.” You wonder why you even came. She thinks so, too, as she glares at you.

“You didn’t have to come you know,” she comments.

“And miss you pissing your pants? Fat chance,” you joke, making her smile. True, you were reluctant to come along when she had asked, you still felt reluctant, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this even if just a little.

“Oh hey! Check this out!” You move over to where Veronica is hunched over. Just below the nightstand, tucked in between it and the bed frame, is a book. She brings it out and sits it on the bed, using her hand to wipe away the dust. The cover is old, leathered, and the markings on it are too faded to read.

“Maybe it’s a dirty novel,” you say, wiggling your brows at her. “You know, some chicks back in the day had to get off with those. They didn’t have internet like we do.”

“That’s just gross.”

“Honey, that’s truth.” You chuckle as she rolls her eyes, opening the book. The pages are worn but readable as she flips through them. You watch from over her shoulder, frowning at the contents. There’s pictures depicting people being beheaded, of demonic creatures drinking blood. It creeps you out.

“I think it’s a book on summoning,” Veronica says. “Look.” She points at one of the pages, a paragraph instructing on how to set up a circle. It then has some kind of image on the next page, a circle with a bunch of symbols that you can’t recognized. A cold shiver runs up your spine.

“I think we should put it back,” you state. It’s suddenly very cold in the room and you swear you can feel something watching you.

“Don’t be such a pussy!” Veronica closes the book and tucks it into her bag.

“What are you doing?”

“Duh, I’m bringing it back with us!” She looks at you as if she didn’t just say the dumbest thing ever.

“Have you not watched horror movies?” you ask in disbelief. “Two dumb chicks find demon book in abandoned bayou home and then get slaughtered as sacrifices to Satan. Am I making any sense to you?”

“You make it sound like you believe it’s real.”

“No,” you defend, “I’m still a hardcore skeptic, but even I ain’t stupid enough to invite that shit into my home.” You turn to head towards the door, ready to leave this hell hole behind. “Put it back and let’s go.”

“Fine,” she sighs. You leave the bedroom and quickly make your way down the stairs, checking behind you to make sure she’s coming. When you confirm that she is, the two of you make your way out of the house and back to your car that’s parked a few feet away.

—

The ride back home is quiet and within minutes, your entering your shared apartment. You go to make your way to your kitchen when Veronica speeds past you to the living room. She’s quickly flittering around, grabbing spare candles and setting them up. You eye her with suspicion and groan when she pulls the book out of her bag.

“Veronica, you didn’t.”

“I did,” she giggles, tapping the seat next to her. You cross your arms over your chest.

“I am not participating in this,” you state, firm in your decision. You didn’t believe in ghosts or the paranormal, or even demons, but you’ve seen plenty of horror movies to know that this is how it starts. In no way were you going to be another victim in a paranormal mystery compilation.

“Please,” Veronica pouts, giving you the puppy eyes. You bite your bottom lip, trying to resist. She even goes as far as clasping her hands together, blinking up at you. You give in with a deep sign.

“Fine. But I’m waking you up if something comes into my room later tonight,” you declare. She nods in agreement as she moves to let you join her on the couch. You eye the book, then the candles. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Not a clue!” she answers. “But, the book has clear instructions. I just need three candles,” she pauses to point at the candles, “and two participants!”

“Well would you look at that,” you mock. It’s a coincidence, is all, as candles are in nearly every home and most households consist of two people.

“Stop being a party pooper and hand me that lighter.” You lean over the couch and grab the BIC, placing it in her open palm. She lights the candles one by one, then straightens up, suddenly looking serious. It takes effort not to laugh.

Veronica starts reading from the book, something about calling the corners and inviting those who wish to join as witnesses. You look around, waiting for something to happen, but so far, nothing does. She continues, beginning to speak something in what you guess is Latin. It sounds wrong as you remember your old high school Latin teacher being strict on pronunciation, but you don’t correct her. When she finishes, she claps her hand and looks expectantly to the empty space in front of her.

Nothing.

A minute passes.

Nothing.

“I don’t get it,” she sighs, slouching back into the couch. “I did everything it said to.”

“Have you thought that maybe it’s just not real?” you offer.

“Ok, but just once, I was hoping it was. I mean, look at the book! It’s so old and weird, I thought it could be legit, ya know?”

“Yeah, but sadly, we live in a place I like to call reality!” you say, using your hands to make a fake rainbow in the air. She huffs a laugh and sits back up, standing off the couch.

“Well, since a hot and sexy demon didn’t appear, how about I go grab us some food?” she asks, already going to grab your keys.

“Oh, pizza?”

“Pizza it is! I’ll be back in like, thirty minutes.”

“Cool, drive safe!” you call out as she leaves. Once it’s just you, you look back at the book, smiling at how silly it all was. Demon summoning. As if. You pick up the book and look at the Latin she had read. It was fuzzy and you’re only able to recall a few phrases. It’s less an incantation like you thought and more of further instructions. It tells the reader to place their finger once pricked on top of the signal and recite the summoning phrase.

You look at the front door then back at the book. It’s silly. You know for a fact demons aren’t real. This book was just some kind of occult hoax. So then, why did you want to give it a try?

Sighing, you reach into the drawer of the side table next to the couch, pulling out of the mini sewing kits you had for emergencies. You pull out a needle and prick your finger, wincing as a drop of blood pooled to the surface. You pick the book up with your other hand and press your finger down into the middle of the sigil. With a deep breath, you recite, “Daemon avaritiae, voluntatum et actuum, te voco. Veni et da mihi desideria mea.”

You close your eyes, waiting for something to happen. There’s just silence and still air. You can faintly hear the hum of the refrigerator. Your shoulders relax and you let out a nervous laugh. “Knew it,” you mumble to yourself, “just a stupid - .” You stop as your eyes stay fixated on the candles. The flames are flickering, raising higher then dropping back down, higher again, like they’re dancing. You feel the temperature drop, just like it did at that house.

“Ok, this isn’t funny,” you whisper, moving your legs to that they’re pulled up to your chest. You gasp when the flames go out, along with the electricity, submerging you into darkness.

“Oh, darling, I can ensure you I’m not laughing,” a voice deep responds and you scream, jumping off the couch. You can’t see anything, trying desperately not to trip over furniture. Of course an intruder decides to show up now when you were attempting to summon a demon.

“W-Whoever you are, I-I have a gun!” you shout, trying to sound tough but failing as your voice cracks and falters. You weren’t lying, you had a gun for just this occasion, but it was tucked safely away. In your bedroom. Where you were not. Great.

A deep chuckle rumbled in the darkness and you gulp, reaching around blindly to try and find purchase on anything. You felt your back press against something cold and felt behind you, relieved to find the wall. Now you just had to find a door, something to bring a barrier between you and whoever the fuck was in your house.

You’re searching for a knob when light suddenly fills the room, a figure stepping in. You scream, making the other person scream, too.

“The fuck is wrong with you!” Veronica shouts angrily, flipping on a light switch. You squint as light hits you. “Are you trying to scare me half to death?”

You run over to her, trying to push her out the door. “We have to go! There’s someone in here!” you warn her, pushing harder, but she won’t budge.

“Girl, what are you talking about? There’s no one here!” You turn to protest, to point at the man who had been talking mere seconds earlier, but she’s right. As you scan the room, there’s no one to be seen.

“No, no, no. He was just there. I was on the couch, doing the ritual, and he -“

“Wait, you actually tried it, too?” she asks but you ignore her.

“- he spoke behind me when the lights went off! He was, he was…,” you trail off, feeling frantic, panicked. Had you just imagined it all? Had you paranoid yourself that badly from the ritual that you hallucinated the whole thing?

Veronica called out your name, making you look at her. “I think you need to go lay down. You don’t look to good.” You nodded slowly, agreeing with her. You did feel tired.

“Y-Yeah, I‘ll just…go lie down.” She sat down the pizza and held your hand to your bedroom, making sure you made it to your bed before bidding you goodnight. Once the door was shut, you were left alone in your room. You looked around it, suddenly aware of the darkness creeping in around the edges. It unnerved you and you quickly turn on your lamp next to your bed. It fills in the empty spaces, bringing clarity as you took note of every little detail of your room. It eased your mind, being able to see everything.

You shoved the blankets back and crawled under them, exhaustion hitting your hard once your head laid on to the pillows. With a stifled yawn, you close your eyes and attempt to forget about the whole thing as you fall asleep.

Masterlist ; Ao3

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

[sebastianswallows]

Ardour — Chapter 3

— PAIRING: professor!Tom Riddle x Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Tom got what he wanted, he is the Hogwarts DADA professor. It's more tedious than he envisioned, but his day gets interesting when his favourite student comes to him for help after she is hit with a strong aphrodisiac.

— WARNINGS: smut, angst, hurt/cumfort, cunnilingus, Tom spilling in his pants like a teenager, sweet dirty talk, age difference (she is in 7th year), sex pollen, hints of incest (reader is a distant relative Gaunt, to give Tom something to find palatable about her, ok? I know, but... just go with it)

— WORDCOUNT: 5.2k

— A/N: Welcome to the last chapter of this fic! It is just 5k words of Professor Tom pleasuring his favourite student with his mouth. Enjoy! ✨

Tom gripped her by the waist and pushed her higher on the sofa. Her neck rested on the armrest now and she was perhaps less comfortable than before, but it gave Tom the space he needed. He went back to his tie and yanked it off, then his hands moved to unbutton his shirt, all the while keeping his eyes on her. Adara was breathing in a tired sort of way, somewhat stilted and pained. Tom, however, had begun to pant a little more as he faced the reality of what he was about to do — what he had chosen to do.

“Don’t worry, Miss Gaunt,” he said quietly to his student, adopting the most comforting voice he was capable of. “I’ll make you all better… I’ll clean you up. I…”

He, what? He wasn’t sure if he could say it.

And as he hastily unbuttoned his shirt, shoving one small irritating button out of its hole at a time, Adara looked at him with such open vulnerability… Her eyes did more to expose her than her parted legs and raised-up ruffled skirt. There was nothing hidden there, nothing left he hadn’t seen, hadn’t felt, hadn’t touched… His mind brushed against the surface of her own and shivered, recoiling almost, at the unfamiliar sense of trust.

She trusted him completely. And for some reason, Tom found that quite beautiful. It was a rare thing to see, especially from one of his students, and he couldn’t help but feel proud, maybe even a bit sentimental… Adara has allowed him to put his hands on the most intimate parts of her body, to see her and caress her and soothe her little heart — she was allowing him to take care of her, which was something he’d never really had. He’d always had to fight for everything he got, whether it was through coercion or lies or pure raw magical power, and yet here she was, opening herself up to him completely... When else would this ever happen again? Would it ever happen again?

Tom was lost in thought as he looked into her eyes, having almost forgotten about that small treasure between her legs — the chains of silvery essence that dripped from her, the velvet folds that pulsed and clenched, and the little pearl that gently throbbed above them… Almost.

With a hurried movement, he pulled his shirt off, yanked it angrily off his arm when it got tangled for a second, and threw it to the floor. With a bit more calm, he placed his hands over Adara’s thighs and caressed her skin as he leaned forward. His eyes fixed on her tired ones, Tom eased himself back a little, making himself comfortable, and gentled the girl open.

“Professor,” she whined, her neck tilting away from the hard armrest to rest against the back of the sofa.

“Shhh… It’s almost over,” he whispered. “I just need to… clean you up a bit… Will you let me?”

“B-but…”

“You said it still hurts, didn’t you?” he asked with a cocked brow.

“Y-yes, but why —”

“Let me do this,” he whispered hotly, sounding somewhat impatient now, and he knew how that tone of voice frightened her. It was almost as if she were back in his classroom, talking back to him, being argumentative and disobedient… She quieted immediately.

He smiled boyishly at her frightened little frown, but he had no intention of really hurting her, or even of speaking to her harshly. If she only knew the caring he felt for her deep down… She was his student, his best, his favourite, and beyond satisfying this newly acknowledged hunger for her, Tom wanted to see her healthy, happy, and safe. And the fact that they were, however distantly, related, both belonging to the doomed and disgraced House of Gaunt, only soothed his callousness further. The attention and affection that he’d always longed for, for himself, he could at least give to her… It was the closest he could come to feeling it himself — although by this point Tom was certain that, should he ask, she’d gladly reciprocate. At least, he hoped so.

She looked at him with a warm and tender gaze while her breathing grew more frantic. Seeing her professor’s lean, pale body was probably the last thing she ever expected, even in such a situation… He’d always been so proper, so composed, faultless as an unspoiled field of snow, cold purity as far as the eye could see — though clothed, consistently, in black. And so she blushed now not only from her own situation and the lingering effects of the Ardour Fly, but also from just seeing his naked arms — lean but fit, a young scholar’s arms — and when she dared trail her gaze upwards, his shoulders, his sharp clavicles, his chest… Pale and broad and smooth and dusted lightly with little black hairs that contrasted so sweetly with those two tight buds of dusky pink. On the side of his torso, on the right, she could spot a couple of little moles too. She wanted to kiss them, and closed her eyes tightly as the desire struck. She felt more shy at seeing him than she did at being seen herself.

Tom kissed the top of her knee and held his lips there for a moment, closing his eyes as he breathed in her skin. She winced, and by his waist, he could feel her feet flexing.

“Professor,” she whispered — not asking for anything, not asking anything, just saying it… acknowledging him, letting him know how thoroughly he consumed her senses.

He smiled and moved his lips lower, to the inside of her knee and her inner thigh and lower, more and more quickly, until his mouth was right above her tense stomach.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, his eyes still closed.

“Hurts,” she whined, her hips twisting.

He gripped her waist and held her still while he lowered his mouth and kissed the smooth skin there. “I’ll make it better,” he spoke against her lower tummy. “I promise.”

He didn’t know where that came from. Tom never promised anything, not sincerely anyway… But he meant it this time.

She whined at the feeling of his lips right above her aching womb, and gasped when he went lower. He kissed the softness of her mound, her girlish curls tickling his nose, and then his lips moved to her inner thigh, right next to where she hurt the most…

It was completely damp, slathered in her essence and her sweat, spread out in careless little splashes from when his fingers worked on her before. He kissed it off of her, the warm breath drying her a bit, before he moved to the other thigh and did the same. Above, he could hear Adara whimpering, wincing in discomfort… This didn’t soothe her needs, and if anything it only teased her further, but Tom wanted to do it, he wanted to lick her clean, just like he promised.

“Be still now,” he said in an oddly gentle voice. “This is good for you… This is what you need. I need to clean you, right here...”

Of course, why he had to do it with his mouth was something he didn’t feel like explaining right now, and Adara was too shy to ask — and too aroused, if she was being honest.

The sight of her favourite Professor’s dark head held between her thighs, his elegant pale hands holding her hips down in something that was half-clutch half-caress, his broad lean masculine back, and the feeling of his mouth lavishing her skin, it took her out of her mind, out of her body, and up into a vaporous experience where she was keenly aware only of herself, and of him… The rest of the world no longer existed. She felt herself being drunk up by him, mind and soul, just like her skin was nipped between his lips.

She felt like she was relaxed and tense all at once, her hips canting desperately into him, her legs trembling by his flexing jaw, hands restless as they switched from gripping the sides of the sofa to fisting at her chest…

And then he gripped her hips more tightly, pinning her down, and his kisses travelled inward.

Professor Riddle said nothing as he trailed his lips toward her folds, but he could feel himself breathing more deeply, and distantly was aware of his student breathing harder too. In the quiet of his office, he could almost hear her heart thumping — or was that his own?

She smelled more sweetly than he thought, and was so warm, still so dangerously warm from the effects of the Ardour fly… and throbbing. Beneath his desire to taste her, he pitied her. How much pain she must’ve still been in…

“There, there,” he gentled her, his whisper seeping into her core.

“Sir…?!”

“Don’t be scared,” he smiled, looking up into her eyes and swallowing the knot in his throat, swallowing the scent and taste of her that had gathered on his tongue. “I’ll take care of you, my good girl…”

And with a deep inhale, Tom stretched up a bit and placed a second kiss on the top of her soft mound. He lingered there a second longer than he meant to, distracting her a little while he spread her legs the slightest bit. Then, he leaned back down and closed his eyes, his head tilting slightly, and pressed a kiss right at her core. She was sweet, but beneath that, there was the lingering taste of Ardour Fly, like ginger and cinnamon.

He kissed her swollen folds as if they were her lips. It was loving and gentle, a caress, a pampering of her most sensitive and delicate parts... She moaned in a complaining sort of way, her thighs tensing, tickling his cheeks, but he wouldn’t move any faster. He was going to help her, clean her of the Ardour Fly, but he wanted to do it on his terms.

He took his time with her, his mouth teasingly still against her while her sensitive parts throbbed. They moved in their rhythmic way against his lips as if they were trying to kiss him back, to tease and tempt and coax him to pay them more attention… Tom smiled against her, and he gave it. His lips slowly opened wider, kissing her more fully, then wider still, trying to see if he could pull her fully in his mouth. He moaned against her taste and at the trickle of wetness she surrendered to him.

Holding his mouth open against her, he let his tongue slip out and briefly touched her little hole. Tom felt her jump and heard her gasp at the sensation, and he couldn’t help but chuckle smugly.

“Professor!” she moaned, her back stretching in a tense arch as her head fell limply back.

“Be good for me,” he groaned against her. “Keep your legs spread while I continue your treatment…”

She whined in complaint, but he felt her legs relaxing slightly, drawing further from his cheeks.

Tom sighed with satisfaction and eased his hands away from her hips, down the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread a little wider as his face settled more closely to her core. With a greedy suckle, he pulled her lower lips into his mouth and held them there, letting their warmth sink into him. The taste of her flushed skin coated his tongue until there was no other taste in the world he could remember, and lightly, so lightly he was not sure she even felt it, he let his tongue slip to her little hole again.

But she did feel it — he could tell that she was shaking, her breaths coming in panicked panting heaves as he licked more and more, deeper into the place where she was hurting.

Without even a thought to the Ardour Fly anymore, Tom swallowed her down ravenously before he pulled his head away, letting her folds gradually slip from out of the tight hold of his mouth, and then lowered himself again, this time to lap on either side of them. He moaned as he cleaned up his good girl, drinking in every bit of her essence he could find, every drop of sweat, everything that wasn’t the darling taste of her skin.

Carefully, his hands went lower down her thighs until he could pull her lips apart with his thumbs, exposing her fully to him. Tom looked down at the maddening, his cheek resting on her right thigh. She was still so red… Her hole clutched at nothing and her little pearl throbbed.

He knew the feeling, or some equivalent to it, as in his trousers he felt ready to burst out of his skin. The whole of his loins felt wet with sweat and his pathetic seepings of desire. His manhood was fully hard and contorted in the tight confines of his clothes. Surreptitiously, he let himself rest more firmly down on it as he lay on his front on the sofa, groaning to himself.

Keeping her spread open, Tom leaned forward again and lapped right at her entrance.

“Aaaaahhh!”

“Still hurts, doesn’t it?” he sighed, speaking quietly. “It still needs something…”

“P-p-prof—”

“You’ve got a lot of that wicked powder here, don’t you?” asked Tom, looking up at her flushed face with a twinkle in his eye. “In this little place right here…?”

She bit her lip and nodded, forcing her legs to relax around her professor once more.

Tom smiled and licked his lips, then focused his dark eyes on her core again and spread her wider. It made the throbbing of her nub all the more visible as its little head was pulled out of its protective hood. The entrance to her body opened the slightest bit, a fat little dollop already waiting to flow out of it from the other side. Tom groaned and leaned in again.

The air around them was filled with sticky sounds, the clinks of wet kisses and the greedy lap-lap-lapping of his tongue. She moaned loudly, and Tom moaned with her. Adara blushed for a moment, thinking that he might have been making fun of her — but when she caught her breath and listened, she thought he sounded, if anything, hungry… and pained…

“Professor,” she sighed, one brave hand going down to cover his broad palm over her inner thigh.

Tom caressed her little fingers with his thumb while he kept tending to her with his mouth. He was still trying to remain gentle and cautious with his student, but the longer it went on, the harder it was for him to contain his own need. Her essence would not stop flowing, and he wanted all of it, wanted to taste every drop of it, wanted to drink from her until she fainted in his arms... He took a moment to look up at Adara's face, taking in her expression of confused pleasure, and then he quickly lowered his head again.

“Aaaahhh!” she gasped, her back arching sharply.

"Shhh... shhh... I need to focus, my dearest one," he whispered. "I promised to take care of you… Let me do it. Let me care for you..."

He was still being slow and cautious with her, and very, very thorough, leaving no bit of her skin without a suckling kiss or lick, but his groans had taken on a rougher, firmer tone. She could tell that he meant it, and she did her best to relax and let him do what needed to be done. She wanted him to take care of her, to make everything right, and yet the sensations she was feeling were becoming unbearably intense.

This was nothing like his fingers, which had been so firm, so sure, so precise in a devastating way… No, this was all fluid flesh and velvet dragging on velvet and the strong smooth muscle of his tongue, an organ she so often respected when he spoke during class, was driving her insane in a way she never thought possible. The whole sensation was like being made love to by a sentient body of water, or a flowing chaotic thing like a flame made flesh, and yet it was like none of those things… It was like nothing else in the world, and all she could do was stay still, be good for him, spread her legs, and let him hear her pleasured moans.

“Sir, that’s… It feels like… like…”

“Like what?”

The question came out slightly muffled, as Tom had let her folds slip from between his thumbs to come down back around his own. His mouth was buried as deeply into her slit as it could be.

“Aaah… it… mmm… there’s…”

“What is it?” asked Tom, breathing hotly over her clenching little hole. “What more do you need?”

His dark eyes trailed up to hers, and although her mouth was slack and her head hung dazedly to the side, he could read the desire in her eyes… His wet and plush lips, slightly bruised from how much he had worked on her, curled into a tilted smile.

“Oh I know what my good girl needs,” he chuckled.

His thumbs pressed softly into her folds, testing their plushness, making a bit more wetness seep out in a slick trickle down her slit.

“This little part wants some attention too, doesn’t it?” he asked as he let his breath fan over her nub. “I’m right. No? Aren’t I right? But… that wouldn’t do,” he teased. “I’m here to clean you up, my favourite, not to give pleasure to your naughtiest parts…”

She whined like a kitten denied of her treat, and Tom had to chuckle at it.

He brought his lips to the hard little point, closing them around the edges of its protective hood in a soft kiss, light and careful and affectionate. His hips ground against the sofa once again, easing the pain in his groin, and he groaned against her. Above, she gave a shivering moan at the sensation, and then he fixed his lips around her pearl more firmly.

He sucked it between his lips with almost punishing greed, causing her legs to shiver and wild little rasps to leave her throat as she thrashed helplessly. Without even thinking, Tom pressed his tongue forward and, as his suckles pulled the tip more firmly out of its hood, he rubbed the very tip of his tongue against it.

“Aaaaah— Professor! Too much, too much!”

Tom’s smirk tickled her right thigh, and he kept tending to her, nursing on her most delicate point. Her hips, in an effort to shake him off, moved up and down as much as he allowed her, but it was no use. He held her hip firmly with his left hand and with his right he held her thigh, letting his thumb rest against her hole. The canting of her hips made her rub the tight entrance on it, dripping against and around it, while Tom kept his lips stubbornly on her nub.

“Sir! Professor! Please!”

Her begging only made him more hungry. Tom heaved and frowned, his kiss getting messier, his mouth opening occasionally around as much of her as he could grasp between his lips, before closing on her nub again and pulling on it tightly. When he had it fixed and at his mercy, his tongue flicked it up and down, making it as erect as it could be…

Her pleas were a mess of sounds by now, and her hands gripped her throat and hair as she arched. The office became filled with her cries of pleasure and the damp sounds made by his mouth.

When he began to feel more loving, he relaxed his lips around her, cradling her sensitive flesh within him. He let his tongue drag slowly, slowly up from her flexing hole up the underside of her pearl, and ending the journey with a suckling kiss. He did it again, encouraged by her long and wailing moan, letting his tongue linger on the very underside of it this time, curling right beneath her tender tip, pressing against it for as long as he could while she thrashed and cried, and when he could no longer hold it, he closed in with another kiss.

Tom tilted his head to the left and he kissed her nub as gently as he’d kissed her hole before, just like he wanted to kiss her mouth. It was a slow and deep caress coloured by his own deep moans.

Slowly, and then all of a sudden, he felt her thighs begin to shake. Her whimpers were sounding stilted, muffled, and when he looked up Tom saw that she was covering her mouth with both hands. Her fingers were wet with tears and her eyes were tightly shut. Her whole body shivered, but especially her stomach and her legs. With a fresh rush of greed, he moved his hands around her waist in such a way that tilted her lightly upwards.

He held her like a chalice, and holding her so bowed his head to deliver a long, lingering, deep kiss. Her shivers slightly abated, as if her every muscle held its breath in sympathy with him.

His loins meanwhile were pressed against the sofa almost painfully and he held himself still while he swallowed everything she had to give — her wetness that wouldn’t stop gushing, her moans that escaped even the hard clutch of her hands, and the sweet, sweet, taste of her skin completely rid of the sharpness of the Ardour Fly — and then in a sharp throb that made Tom wail into her girlhood, he felt himself pulse once, twice, and release into his pants. It was a long and arduous spill that left him feeling muggy, his skin both hot and cold with the feel of his essence finally released from his long-suffering sac. Still, humiliating as it was for him to reach the peak of pleasure from just a loving kiss of her entrance, it was better this way — the aphrodisiac, as he lapped it off of her, had begun for several moments to affect him as well, but satisfying his desires sated it.

He breathed in and out slowly as he calmed himself, his eyes closed, and he kept his mouth on her. With his tongue, he lapped from her seeping hole, so ravenous and lonely, all the way to her hard little point that he’d tortured with too much attention. It made her jump again.

“Prof—!”

“That’s it, good girl,” he moaned, barely lifting his mouth from her.

“Aaah! Oh, that’s…!”

“Good girl, do it, do it for me…”

She could scarcely hear what he was saying beneath her frantic moans, but somehow, she felt it.

Tom switched from lapping at her to pulling her with harsh suckles into his mouth, then licking her again, and again, and on and on — until she gave one high scream and clenched.

“Aaaaahhh! Aaah… aaahh… P-profes— Sir—”

“There you go, my favourite,” he moaned, sighing against her painfully tight entrance. His mouth seemed constantly undecided between kissing it as it throbbed and kissing her swollen folds and her nub and every other little spot between them. He lavished all the love he had on her, scraping every corner of his withered heart for a sliver of something good and pure to offer her — and, for an instant, he felt worthy enough to do it.

“There’s my good girl… So nice,” he said before another kiss, “so sweet… Does that feel good?” he asked gently. “Hm? Did that make you feel good?”

Adara groaned and shivered as her body lost all tension and all strength, falling to rest in a puddle on the sofa. This last one took every last ounce of strength in her… But at least now, the Ardour Fly was sated. She could feel its effects draining from her with every lingering pulsation of her girlhood, and her every next breath was one of deep relief.

“Sir,” she whispered tremblingly, “that’s… yes, so… so good,” she moaned, her eyes looking hazily down at her professor.

Tom smiled a genuinely happy, proud smile. To ease her down, and soothe the discomfort from his own embarrassingly soaked loins, he indulged and nursed himself a moment longer on her pearl. He swallowed mouthfuls of her taste until she whined a bit louder, clearly too sensitive to take it anymore. He sighed, and let her go. His hands eased off her hips, grip loosening into a caress, a petting of her sides that trailed up and down from her thighs to her ribs.

“How do you feel?” he asked, gazing down at her with somewhat of a dazed look too. Raising his front off the sofa, he felt the sweat that had gathered on his chest begin to cool.

“Good,” she whispered, looking up at him sleepily.

“Good,” he said, smiling a little brighter.

He cupped her torso with his left palm and reached his right hand up to her face, wiping a few stray tears away with his thumb. Her legs were limp around him and her face was still blooming with a blush, but aside from that and the lethargy of after-pleasure, she seemed completely healthy… Back to normal.

And of course, with that came the inevitable humiliation. Adara looked down at herself and clumsily tried to cover her waist again with her skirt, slipping shy looks up at her professor. Tom chuckled and busied himself brushing a few stray hairs from her forehead.

“I, erm… T-thank you, s-sir, it’s…”

She felt so ashamed so could nearly cry. Professor Riddle didn’t seem to mind, but he sympathised with her anyway.

“I’ll… I’ll let you catch your breath,” he said quietly, easing himself off the sofa and wiping her wetness off his chin.

“T-thanks,” she said, both hands tucking the skirt between her thighs and staying there. With a groan, she curled her knees up and let her legs fall to the right, while her chest moved up and down with panting breaths that eased and eased the more her body cooled.

She looked up at the ceiling, then chanced a glance at her professor. He had picked up his shirt off the floor and drowsily threw it back on. She caught the barest hint of sweat pooled in the lower dip of his back before it was covered up, and her face burned again. As if feeling her gaze, Tom looked over his shoulder, catching her right before she turned her head away again.

“I have to go to my quarters and… wash up a bit,” he said. What he meant was that he intended to get a new change of clothes and maybe squeeze his manhood of whatever was left, because a quick rub against the cushions had been perfunctory at best. “But before that, I will get you a glass of water. You must be quite… dehydrated,” he smirked, his fixed on hers before he walked away to do just that.

With less of a steady hand than he wished, Tom poured her a tall glass of water and came back to kneel by the sofa and help her drink it. She grumbled, but he insisted on holding her head steady while he tipped the glass to her lips. Nobody had ever really done a thing like that for him, he realised now — perhaps only a nurse in the infirmary when he caught a cold in his second year. Maybe for that reason he especially liked doing it for her.

“Do you feel well now?” he asked with a concerned frown, all hints of teasing gone. He placed the back of his hand lightly to her forehead.

“Yes,” she said, looking up into her professor’s dark eyes. “T-thank you. That was… What you did w-was —”

“Not as great of a sacrifice as you’re trying to tell me it was,” he said with a cool smile. “Don’t concern yourself with it, Miss Gaunt. We won’t think of it again.” And he knew he didn’t have to tell her not to speak of it, especially. “In fact, if you want, I can… I could…”

“What?” she asked, curious to see her professor stutter for once.

Tom sighed and looked with quiet resolve into her eyes. “I could Obliviate you.”

“No!” she said, somewhat too quickly. “No… I don’t want you to.”

He seemed surprised, but happy with her answer. “Very well,” he smiled, her thumb caressing her cheek once more, just briefly, just for a moment — what a brave girl his favourite was, what a darling delicious girl — and then he caught himself and took his hand away as if he had no right to touch her, as if he hadn’t been touching her for more than an hour.

“When you’re feeling up to it, I suggest you get back to your dorm,” he said, getting briskly up again. “You’ve already missed dinner.”

Adara nodded and drank a bit more water, and waited for him to back to his quarters for that ‘washing up’ he mentioned before she gathered the courage to try to sit. It was a bit of a challenge. All her muscles ached, their energy burned away in so many shivers, but gradually she could stand up again.

With one last blush, she picked up her discarded panties from the floor, where they had become a bit entwined with her professor’s tie.

She put them on, revoltingly wet as they were, righted her hair and her clothes as much as she could, and walked to the desk to where Professor Riddle now stood, drinking a glass of firewhisky.

“I’ll leave now, Sir,” she said to his back. “T-thank you again, I—”

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

“I… I’d like to repay you one day, if I can,” she offered, looking at his ruffled dark hair with pleading eyes.

“Don’t,” he chuckled.

He put his glass down with a sigh and turned around. He looked at her… seeming not at all angry, and not remotely as cold as he usually was. In fact, the only thing he looked like was tired… and a little fond.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he smiled. “I just hope… I just hope you’re alright now.”

She nodded.

Tom looked like he wanted to say something, something more, more than this tepid formality he forced himself to exchange with her. He wanted to tell her she was beautiful, he wanted to tell her they shared the same blood, he wanted to tell her he would like nothing better than to be her escape from her horrible side of the family, to offer her comfort, to offer her care… But as much of a selfish, needy, villain that he was, he wasn’t that.

“I’ll see you in class next week.”

And that would be the end of it.

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Okay ı have one,trent going f1 with u and he jealous of u for some driver maybe carlos or lewis

Like fluff 💘💘 hope u like it ( i love ur works btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼)

I’m yours

Summary: When on the grid, Trent isn’t the only one who’s keeping an eye out for you.

Fluff

Note: Loved this request! And I hope you love this one too, enjoy 🫂 Also I thought about this song :) ⤹

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

As a little girl you always sat watching Formula 1 on the tv. It was all so exciting watching the qualifying and of course the race the day after. You were always so blown away by how fast the cars were going and all the things that were going on and off the grid.

And your childhood dream is soon coming true. Trent knows your passion and love for Formula 1, it’s always something you talk about with him. You’ve watched so many races with him and every time you tell him how much you would love to go to one. Little did you know that he planned a big surprise for you in the meantime.

You woke up feeling kisses all over your cheeks and you groaned, annoyed at Trent for waking you up but it was the best thing in the morning.

“Trent I could’ve slept longer!” You complained and put the duvet over your head as Trent chuckled.

“It’s a big day today babe” Trent said as you got up from the bed, half asleep.

“No it isn’t, I have to clean the entire house and then I’ll watch the qualifying until I fall asleep” You chatted and sighed whilst you picked up clothes from the floor to put in the laundry.

“It’s only Saturday Y/n, we can clean when we get home” Trent consoled and you stopped in your tracks, turning around slowly looking at him in confusion.

“Get home from what Trent?” You asked him and he got out of the bed and walked towards you, smiling.

“You know Silverstone is this weekend?” He began.

“Of course I know that..why?” You wondered.

“I have this girl who really likes to watch F1, and I would love to take her to the grand prix with me” Trent revealed and you jumped right into his arms, squealing in excitement.

“Are you taking me to Silverstone!?” You gasped and he nodded watching you being the happiest girl ever, he’d never seen you smile this much.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning, so you have all day to pack your stuff. Don’t worry about the cleaning, I’ll fix it” Trent assured and you went to find your suitcase, too excited about everything.

You spent the entire day packing and you were in your own little bubble while doing it, making sure you don’t forget anything. The last thing you put in your suitcase is your Mercedes cap, which you know will piss Trent off because he supports Redbull.

He sneeks up behind you and says “Sure you don’t want a Redbull cap?” And you stand up after closing your suitcase, staring at him.

“Yes I’m pretty sure” You answered and he helped you get your suitcase up from the floor.

Later at night you prepared to go to sleep, but it was hard. You were sure that the nerves would keep you awake, and you will only wait until you get to the circuit.

As you were lost in your thoughts while brushing your teeth, you felt his hands around your waist from behind.

“Are you excited for tomorrow, love?” Trent inquired and you laid your hand on his as you nodded, mouth filled with toothpaste.

He carried you to the bed, making you blush with all of his princess treatments. He placed you down and kissed you forehead with his soft pillow lips. Then he slipped into the bed beside you, ran his hands through your hair as you started to feel more tired.

“I love you T, thank you for surprising me. I can’t wait to experience this with you” You said and yawned.

“Anything for my girl, goodnight Y/n” Trent replied and you dozed off, your dream about to come true when you wake in the morning.

-

You slept surprisingly well although you were full of nerves and excitement the night before. You got up from the bed smiling knowing what’s going to happen today. Your first F1 race, it felt surreal to you and you couldn’t believe that in a few hours you’re standing on the grid with your lover.

Trent was already up, preparing the last things before you two leave.

“Hey babe, did you sleep well?” Trent asked and hugged you once you walked down the stairs.

“Yeah” You simply responded and walked past him to get breakfast for yourself but Trent quickly led you away from the kitchen to the table where he had cooked breakfast for you.

You looked at him in awe and kissed his cheek, “You’re the sweetest person ever!” You exclaimed and then sat down at the table, not wanting to waste any time because you were leaving soon.

—

A few hours later you entered the paddock, there were people everywhere wearing their team’s shirts and of course a lot of media staff taking pictures of your well known boyfriend. You walked beside Trent holding his hand tightly as you were walking down the paddock to get to the Redbull garage.

You were proud to be wearing your Mercedes cap in the Redbull garage even though you felt like everyone was watching you. Trent and you were guided around and a few mechanics told you about the car and Trent met up with Max Verstappen to switch shirts. You stood in the corner watching, trying not to freak out because theres a world champion in front of you. But that wasn’t really the world champion you wanted to meet. Your friends and family is aware of your support for Lewis Hamilton and you couldn’t help but try to find him today.

Max wished Trent good luck for the season he has ahead of him and you two went back to the grid.

“Trent… can we please go into the Mercedes garage?” You asked and hold your hand behind your back, hoping he would do it for you.

“Y/n I really want to go with you but I promised Marcell to follow him to the Ferrari’s. I’ll join you later okay?” He answered and you pouted. He gave you one quick peck on your cheek before running off to his brother.

And there you were on the grid, living your actual childhood dream.

You saw the garage, continuing walking towards it as you started to feel more and more nervous. The race didn’t start until one hour so you had some time to spend in the garage of your favourite team.

You got smiles from the mechanics and looked around your surroundings, it was exactly how you imagined it to be. Until you saw him.

You could see Lewis standing not far from you and you thought that you had not come this far just to look at him so you made your way towards him, trying to get the courage to ask for a photo.

You thought about how Trent would react when he sees the photo, you always dreamt about meeting a driver.

Slowly you tap his shoulder and he turns around with a smile on his face.

“Hi Lewis, can I ask for a photo?” You finally say and took a deep breath, trying not to mess anything up.

“Yes of course, what’s your name?” Lewis responds and you search for your phone in your purse, your hands almost shaking.

“Y/n” You said and smiled as you found your phone and took the picture.

“Y/n, lovely to meet you. Enjoy the race!” He expressed and shot a look at your cap.

“Thank you I will! Good luck” You smiled and noticed how he observed your cap, making you smile even more walking out from the garage to join Trent again.

You met up with Trent and you got to your seats to watch the race. You couldn’t wait for the race to start, and you thought it was more exciting watching it because Max didn’t get pole position as usual.

Trent held your hand as everyone on the track were fixing everything in the last minute, and it was only about time until they started the formation lap.

“You’re ready?” Trent whispered in your ear and it sent shivers down your spine. You looked at him and nodded as he leant in for a quick kiss before your attention was focused on the race.

-

The checkered flag was waving and the race was over. You can’t believe that you just saw an Formula 1 race. The crowd was cheering, two British boys on the podium, one of them was Lewis which you were the most happy for. Trent was happy with Max winning again and you could do nothing but to roll your eyes at him mocking you as he always does when Redbull wins.

As you and Trent stood by the exit and were preparing to leave, your eyes catches someone else’s eye. You could see Lewis glancing at you and you glanced back, your heart skipped a beat when your eyes made contact. You know you shouldn’t be doing that when you have a boyfriend, but you saw it as just a fun thing not knowing it will come with consequences. You could never forget how kind Lewis was to you and the way he noticed your cap, your inner child was jumping up and down with excitement for sure.

“Hey bro, is it just me or does your bird seem to have something going on with Mr. Hamilton” Marcell noted and Trent looked over at you, seeing that you’re completely lost in your own world with some other guy.

He felt the side of him come through that he knew you didn’t like, jealousy. You’re his, not some kind of driver’s girlfriend.

“Enjoying the view are we?” Trent spoke up and you jumped out of your little bubble turning your face to him as he placed his hand on your hip, marking you as his visibly infront of Lewis.

“What?” You replied, studying the look on his face.

“Oh nothing, we should get going Y/n” He simply said and you two started to walk and you took one last glance of Lewis Hamilton.

You didn’t know exactly what he meant by that comment but you knew that it couldn’t be good. It was something your mind had to think about but you already knew in fact it was painted all over his face, his jealousy.

-

Because of how far away from home you and Trent were, you decided to stay in a hotel in London for a few days. It was a nice cozy hotel room and a good way to finish your day was to take a shower and then go off to bed.

But as you stood in the bathroom applying your serum you could only think about what Trent said earlier. “Enjoying the view are we?”

Of course you enjoyed the view but what exactly did he meant?

Trent stood beside you and he had just finished brushing his teeth. You watched him in the mirror almost draining himself in his body lotion and you giggled for yourself, but you had to ask him about earlier.

“Hey T” You began as he looked up at you in the mirror.

“Yeah”

“You know when we were about to leave and you said that I was enjoying the view” You mentioned and he hummed in response.

“What did you mean by that?” You continued and met his eyes through the mirror.

“Someone couldn’t take their eyes off of Sir Lewis” He shrugged and you held yourself back from laughing, you found it so funny.

“Trent you’re joking right?” You chuckled and smiled as he rolled his eyes.

“I just didn’t like the way he looked at you” He told you and then walked up behind you, kissing your neck.

“You’re mine and mine only.” He whispered against your neck and it made you forget all about Lewis in one second. You leaned your head back, allowing him to kiss you all over your neck.

“So you were jealous?” You asked and he chuckled because he know you could read him well in those moments.

“I was” He admitted and you two walked out of the bathroom, both tired and just wanted to sleep.

As you laid down with him you thought whatever happens, if you see a cute man on a night out or if a guy comes up to you in the club, or in this case if a Formula 1 driver likes to have some sort of staring contest with you, no matter what you know who you belong to. You know that no one can love you like Trent do and in that way, you’re gonna forget about the little tension you and Lewis had.

“Trent, you know I’m yours right?” You soothed and cupped his face.

“I know you are Y/n” He murmured.

“And you’re mine” You added.

“Is that so?” Trent teased and you started laughing and he flipped you over so that you were lying on top of his chest and you eventually fell asleep, with a head full of dreams and a loving boyfriend who you know is going to stick around for a long time.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

could you maybe do headcanons on how the succession characters would comfort their partner? it's just being such a shit week and on top of that i finished succession and i am immensely sad💀 it's okay if you can't tho !! thanks <3

I hope your week ends on a good note!!! Thank you for requesting anon, I love u and I hope this makes you feel better :) <3

p.s. I’m so sorry I’m updating slowly :( I promise I’ll get better about it the moment I’m on break, im sick and school is ruing my life :,) enjoy x

comforting you

Kendall

ᝰ he doesn’t need you to say anything, ever

ᝰ he just knows what you need

ᝰ when he comes home and finds you in bed early, he knows you’ve had a difficult day

ᝰ he doesn’t know what happened, but he won’t ask until you’re feeling better

ᝰ he changes out of his work clothes and just gets into bed with you

ᝰ when you don’t say anything either, he pulls you into a cuddle, one hand pressing your head to his chest and the other cupping your hip

ᝰ “hi, ken.”

ᝰ peppers your face in kisses

ᝰ “feeling off?” he asks

ᝰ you nod

ᝰ his fingers go to stroke your jaw

ᝰ “you can talk to me, you know. i want to make it better,” he tells you

ᝰ so you tell him everything

ᝰ whatever the issue was, the next day, he’s found some way to solve it

ᝰ just for you

ᝰ anything for you

Roman

ᝰ he’s not exactly a ‘sit down and talk about feelings’ type of person

ᝰ but he can tell when something’s wrong

ᝰ and he wants nothing more but to make you feel like you’re on top of the world

ᝰ he sees your pouty face when you get home from a grocery run

ᝰ “hey, babe, come look,” he says after he helps with all the bags

ᝰ he’d been at work when you’d left for the store

ᝰ so he’s had some time to figure out what to do for you without making it seem like he’s prying

ᝰ he’ll ask you about what’s bothering you once you’ve relaxed

ᝰ he plops down on the couch, dragging you with him

ᝰ your favorite movie is paused on the tv, waiting to be played

ᝰ “i found an extended version. with bloopers and deleted scenes and everything,” he murmurs

ᝰ the entire movie, his hand is rubbing up and down your back

ᝰ his fingers sometimes creep up your neck, playing gently with your hair

ᝰ the entire thing is extremely soothing

ᝰ you know he knows something’s wrong

ᝰ and you also know he’s going to do everything in his power to fix it

ᝰ and you’re so grateful he just loves you

Shiv

ᝰ the minute you come home from work, exhaustion and misery rolling off of you in waves, she demands to know what’s wrong

ᝰ “is someone bothering you? is it your boss again? because i can get him fired.”

ᝰ you tell her everything

ᝰ she promises to help you with whatever it is that’s causing you trouble

ᝰ she’d tip the earth off it’s axis if you asked

ᝰ and she does as she said she would

ᝰ everything’s somehow resolved in the next hour

ᝰ “come here, i want a kiss,” she tells you

ᝰ you very happily oblige

ᝰ she spends the entire night just spoiling (and worshiping) you

ᝰ the sheets of your bed are tangled between both your legs

ᝰ you’ve never felt more loved

ᝰ she murmurs about how valentine’s day is coming up

ᝰ and tells you to get your nails done and dress pretty day of

ᝰ you don’t really know how you got here

ᝰ but you’re not upset

ᝰ you smile up at the ceiling, delightedly dazed

ᝰ you don’t even remember why you were upset

Tom

ᝰ the two of you are watching your current show, as you do every night, and he notices you’re zoning out

ᝰ he pauses it and looks down at you

ᝰ he dots a couple kisses over your brow

ᝰ “everything okay?”

ᝰ “rough day…”

ᝰ “why didn’t you tell me?”

ᝰ his expression is one of concern now, yet still absolutely laden with affection

ᝰ “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to keeping things from you or anything. i just don’t want to bother you.”

ᝰ “i want you to bother me. say everything that comes into your brain, i want to hear it.”

ᝰ he pulls you closer, palm smoothing over the back of your neck as he sets your head against his chest

ᝰ you tell him about your day, and how you were getting so frustrated

ᝰ frustrated everything was going wrong today, frustrated that the entire week was going wrong

ᝰ he listens intently, stroking your hair the entire time

ᝰ he gives soft “mhms” and “of courses” at your words

ᝰ he peppers warm kisses all over your face

ᝰ he does his best to give you a solution

ᝰ even if what he suggested doesn’t work, he’s sending you flowers to your office for the next week

Greg

ᝰ he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit

ᝰ he’s a little nervous to ask what’s wrong

ᝰ he’s afraid he won’t know what to do to make you feel better

ᝰ “hey, uh, everything okay?”

ᝰ you shrug

ᝰ “wanna talk about it?”

ᝰ you tell him everything

ᝰ he nods the entire time, his eyes never leaving your face

ᝰ he’s trying to memorize everything you’re saying

ᝰ he doesn’t really have any great solutions

ᝰ and he kind of hates himself for it

ᝰ he wants to help you

ᝰ “hey, how about we go out tonight? take your mind off things.”

ᝰ you spend the night at dinner then wandering through a night market

ᝰ you both talk nonstop

ᝰ he gets you a bunch of trinkets

ᝰ just things that reminds him of you

ᝰ and a bracelet, too

ᝰ`he spends a bit of time fiddling with the clasp, eventually hooking it together and letting it sit on your wrist

ᝰ you don’t take the bracelet off

ᝰ ever

ᝰ at home, he’s worried you’re still upset

ᝰ but you’re not

ᝰ you fall asleep curled up against him, your worries now nonexistent

Stewy

ᝰ he feels what you feel

ᝰ and at this point he can never leave you alone

ᝰ he NEEDS to be with you 24/7

ᝰ so naturally it’s like he’s dying when you come home looking upset

ᝰ “hey, no kiss hello?” he whines

ᝰ that manages to get you to laugh

ᝰ he smiles at your smiling

ᝰ you go over to kiss him and he catches your wrist before you walk off

ᝰ “no, c’mere,” he insists

ᝰ he tugs you into his lap and winds his arms around your waist

ᝰ he sets his chin on your shoulder

ᝰ “why’re you upset?”

ᝰ “oh, it’s nothing, stewy.”

ᝰ “bullshit.”

ᝰ you spill

ᝰ he rubs circles into your hip bone

ᝰ “i’d be upset, too,” he admits

ᝰ he kisses all up your neck

ᝰ “but we don’t have to think about that all now. can we just spend some time together? i promise, though, if you’re still having problems i’ll gladly fuck up many lives for you.”

ᝰ you laugh, making him laugh

ᝰ you spend the rest of the night just sitting there talking to him

ᝰ he even lets you put his hair into pigtails with your hair ties