#other than that this room has 1 bed 1 table and 1 chair. it is Erm pretty sparse LOL

[skenpiel]

HI EVERYONE HERES ANOTHER LITTLE UPDATE!!!!!!!! i am in. tha hospital Tha psych ward specifically NOTHING BAD HAS HAPPENED AND I AM UNHARMED!!!!!! but i still feel very bad and i wanted 2 see if i could make some medicinal changes and they wanna keep me here while they do so that i can be in a controlled environment in case i react badly and stuff. and neither of my parents are home so i didnt rlly have anywhere to go except here LOL. anyways im still waiting to actually meet the doctor and then ill have some inkling of how long ill be here. but anyways just wanted 2 let u all know how its going ^0^

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol.I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

vol. II

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine�� into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

vol. II

[ipushhimback]

we were drunk, it happens part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

pairing: lando norris x verstappen!reader warnings: none? words: 2.2k

summary: lando and Y/N meet at a dinner with other drivers. they were drunk and landed in bed but what happens when her brother max finds out

there will probably be a part 2 bc i have many ideas!

this is my first f1 x reader fanfic i have ever written so please be kind

Y/N has never really liked Formula 1 which surprised everyone she told that as she was no one other than Max Verstappen’s little sister. She of course knew the basics and has watched some of the Grands Prix, but she has never enjoyed being there.

But one Friday evening that changed. Her brother had told her that he had been invited to a dinner with some other drivers, and they were allowed to bring a +1 and because Kelly wasn’t in Monaco that week, he asked Y/N to come with him.

At first, she was reluctant but eventually she agreed. But now she was standing in front of her mirror and wasn’t sure what to wear. What clothes do people wear when they are at a dinner with literal multimillionaires? An hour (and a long call with Kelly) later she was dressed in a simple black dress with a split on the right side, her curled hair falling over her shoulders perfectly.

She felt a bit weird as she stepped down the stairs to her kitchen where she drank a glass of water while waiting for her brother to pick her up, as she had a feeling that she would be absolutely underdressed at the dinner.

Only a few minutes later she heard the doorbell and opened the door to find Max standing in front of her in dark blue jeans and a white button-up shirt.

“Hey, are you ready?”, he asked as he pulled her in a quick hug.

“No. Not really but let’s go. How many people are gonna be at the dinner?” Y/N was a bit worried as she hated to be around too many people – rich and arrogant people in particular as she had experienced that enough when she was still a kid, and her dad had always invited other rich people to their home.

“I only know that Charles will be there, and he will probably bring his girlfriend, Alex. I am sure you’ll like her. Also, Lando is probably going to be there as well as Carlos and his girlfriend Rebecca. George is also going to be there and that means his girlfriend will be there as well, Carmen. And probably the other drivers will be there as well, but I am not sure because George has planned it all.” Max paused to look at his little sister. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point we can just go. But I am sure you will get along just fine with everyone.”

Y/N just nodded as she sat down in the passenger seat of Max’ car. An Audi RS Q3 he always said was perfect for everyday tasks but Y/N knew he mostly had that car so he could easily drive around with his whole family. Kelly, Penelope and their future baby. Even though nobody knew about the pregnancy yet, not even their parents as Max and Kelly wanted to keep that to themselves for as long as possible.

Only a few minutes later they arrived at a nice and expensive looking restaurant where they stopped in the parking lot.

They stepped in the building where they were greeted by a waitress almost immediately. He brought them to a separated room where some people were already sitting around a big table.

“Hi guys. This is Y/N, my sister. She was kind enough to join me today. Y/N, you already know Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar? And there is the back we have Lewis, Checo, Yuki, Pierre, Fernando and Franco”, Max introduced her while his sister tried to continue smiling even though she just wants to be at home and watch on of her favorite tv shows.

“Yes, I do. It is really nice to meet y’all. Where can I sit?”, she asked as she didn’t want to be standing there being stared at by everyone.

A young woman pointed to the chair right next to hers and opposite three other women, who looked just as good. “You can sit here. I am Lily by the way. Oscar’s girlfriend. And that’s Alex, Charles’ girlfriend and Rebecca. She is Carlos’ girlfriend. And there we have Carmen who is here with George. So, you are Max’ sister?”

Y/N was a bit taken aback by the kindness of Lily. She didn’t think that anyone of the WAGs would be like that. She thought they would be more arrogant. More… reserved. Like she used to know them. But Lily and also the others seemed different.

“Uhm… Yeah, I am. He brought me here because Kelly’s abroad.” Y/N took a sip of the glass of water that was placed in front of her by one of the waitresses.

“Oh, that’s sad I was looking forward to finally meeting her, but it is nice that you are here! Max talks about you a lot. It feels like he loves you more than he loves Kelly”, Alex said laughing.

“That’s because he does,” Y/N said and was scared that the others wouldn’t get her little joke when they didn’t react but sighed relived when they started laughing.

They continued chatting a bit, but Y/N just had eyes for one person in the room. Lando. She had seen him before. Of course. But now that she saw him up closer, she couldn’t help but admire his looks. His curls were a nice brown color and couldn’t curl more. His eyes were a pretty blue that looked even better with him wearing this blue hoodie right now.

When Lando looked in her direction, she immediately looked away and grabbed her wine glass. No feelings for arrogant multimillionaires. She didn’t want, nor did she need that in her life.

 ***

The next morning Y/N woke up with the worst headache existing.

She opened her eyes and regretted it right away when the bright sunlight blended her.

She definitely made a big mistake drinking so much alcohol the day before.

It wasn’t until then that she noticed something warm next to her. A body. Not anyone’s body, she realized when she looked to the right. Lando.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This can’t be real.

But no. This wasn’t a dream, she quickly noticed when she wanted to get up and couldn’t find her clothes from the day before.

She got up and went to her closet in the exact moment she heard the doorbell ring. Now she remembered why she even woke up in the first place.

Y/N took a hoodie and sweatpants which she put on quickly before going downstairs to open the door.

“Hey! Wow, you look even worse than yesterday when you left”, Max said, only a second after Y/N had opened the door.

“Thanks”, she groaned. “What are you even doing here so early?”

“It is 1 pm. And I wanted to give you your purse. You forgot it in the car yesterday. Now, are you gonna offer your big brother a coffee as a thank you?”, Max asked and before Y/N could stop him he pushed her to the side and went straight to her kitchen.

“That’s not a good idea. I wanted to take a shower and then I have an appointment at- “, she couldn’t even finish the sentence when she heard her bedroom door open and heard footsteps on the stairs.

Only seconds later, Lando stepped in the kitchen, his hair tousled and only wearing his boxer briefs.

“Hey, Y/N do you- “, he immediately stopped when he spotted Max leaning on the counter. “Oh fuck.”

He immediately turned around and ran upstairs, figuring out that the following conversation shouldn’t happen with him just in his underwear.  

“Lando! You fucking bastard. You slept with my sister?!” Max pushed himself off the counter to run after the Brit while Y/N just stood there, unable to react. And honestly, she didn’t even want to react. If she had the choice she would just go outside and hide somewhere to not be involved in the situation, but she knew that wouldn’t really work longer than a couple hours, so she could also just get it over with now.

“Max! Stop! Let Lando at least get dressed so he doesn’t have to talk to you about all that in just his underwear.”

“He fucking slept with you! I don’t care if he is wearing anything! Lando let me in you can’t lock yourself in the bedroom forever!”

Knowing she can’t convince Max to go downstairs she made her way upstairs.

“Max. Go downstairs and calm down. We were drunk. I also made the decision yesterday to sleep with him. So go downstairs, while Lando gets dressed, make a cup of coffee and wait.” Y/N glared at her brother, and it finally seemed to convince him.

“Fine. But you will both come to me immediately after he got dressed.” Reluctantly, the Dutch made his way to do what Y/N told him to do.

When Max was gone Y/N knocked at the wooden door.

“Lando. It’s me. Let me in.” Only a moment later, the Brit opened the door and peeked outside.

“Is he gone?”, he practically whispered.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at how scared he looked. “Yes, he is. Now let me in because we have to talk about what we say to make sure Max doesn’t insult you even more.”

“How about we don’t say anything and just hide in here? I am scared of him, Y/N. I can’t go out there again. He will kill me because I slept with you! His little sister!”

“Lando. You know we can’t do that. We will go out there and tell him that we were drunk, and it won’t happen again. It was a one-time thing, and that’s- “, Y/N wanted to say more but was interrupted by Lando.

“What if it wasn’t.” The woman just stared at Lando for a couple seconds, suddenly frozen in place.

“Sorry?”

“What if- what if I want to do it again? Listen. We had fun together, didn’t we? So why don’t we continue with it? No feelings, of course. Max would kill us. Just fun.”

Y/N took her time to proceed what Lando had just said. They did, in fact, have fun. But it didn’t change the fact that it was stupid. But she couldn’t help it. She did like last night. It was one of the best nights of her life.

Lando had known exactly what to do. He touched her in all the right places, he was demanding yet gentle. Rough but soft. It was everything. It was almost intoxicating how he touched her – made her feel seen. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Yes. Yes, you’re right. But then, what do we tell my brother?”

“Either the truth or we lie and say it won’t happen again. He doesn’t necessarily have to find out, does he? I am for the second option. Less of a risk to be killed, you know? But I think we should just see where the conversation takes us.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Ok”, she nodded. “Then let’s do that.”

Together they went downstairs. Max’ face was as red as a tomato since he was still mad at Lando. If he was being honest with himself, he knew that Lando wasn’t the only guilty one. His sister also decided to sleep with Lando, but it was easier to be mad at a colleague – even – than his little, innocent (or so he had thought) sister.

“So. Anyone here who wants to explain what happened yesterday?”, Max asked with an annoyed, maybe even hurt, look on his face.

“Max. I promise nothing bad has happened. Lando and I, we were drunk. It happens. I am 22 years old. I am pretty sure you know that what happened yesterday, has happened before. Just with other people. So, please. Don’t be mad at Lando for what happened. It was my decision as much as it was his.”

Y/N felt Lando standing next to her. He looked at Max calmly, trying to deescalate a potential argument, by just not saying anything. The Brit knew it was the smartest thing he could do in the moment.

“I know that it is normal what happened. But, Y/N, you also have to understand my point of view. He is a colleague. A rival of mine. And to be honest, he is not known for being the guy for long term relationships. I simply don’t want you to get hurt. And definitely not that you will have a broken heart because of him.” Max looked seriously concerned, protective.

“I won’t, Max. I promise. And even if he did break my heart, I would tell you right away so you can kill him on your own as soon as possible.”

The blonde man laughs while nodding. He stepped forward and wrapped Y/N up in his arms.

“Ok. I just want you to be happy. Do whatever you want just don’t tell me about it”, he mumbles in his sister’s hair before releasing her from his hug and turning around.

“I will go now. See you. Bye!”

Lando and Y/N flopped on the couch after saying their goodbyes and just a single minute later, Lando’s phone made a sound that signaled an incoming message.

If you hurt her, you are dead, just so you know. – Max

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

THE MIND OF A WEIRD BLACK GIRL

CHAPTER 1: "I'M JUST A GIRL!!!"

Platonic yandere!batfamily x Neglected weird black!reader

SYNOPSIS: You're not childish, are you?

CHAPTER 2

3:00 am. I should be dead asleep right now, completely unconscious, but tonight I couldn't help myself. I mean, who passes up an update on their favorite Tumblr fanfic? This fic has got me stuck at my desk for days on end. I keep telling myself that this is the last one and that I'm done, but then out of the blue, an ask pops up from the floodgates, and I'm back on my grind; no Kevin Gates. The blue rays of my computer screen glow against my dark skin. I can feel my eyes getting red and heavy. Another swig of Monster will keep me alive. One sip, and I feel my body tingle. That definitely wasn't good. I can hear my mom's words ringing in my head: "I saw a story on Facebook about a girl who drank so many energy drinks her heart stopped." She really needs to get off Facebook, and I really need to invest in some water. *Ping* OOOH, Leon Kennedy smut? Don't mind if I do! I laugh evilly to myself, clicking the fic with the pretty pink dividers.

*BEEP BEEP* "AHHH!!" I fall out of my gaming chair, my face hitting the cold floor. I rub my eyes that were under my glasses. I turn my head to see the screen of my alarm clock. FUCK! I'm late! I grab my school uniform and race to the bathroom. That's weird. I'm the first one here. It doesn't matter; take what you can and do what you need. I take a quick shower, put on deodorant and perfume, and stare at all my imperfections. My eye bags are getting bigger; that’s what happens when I watch 24 episodes of One Piece nonstop. Taking off my bonnet, I pray my hair cooperates with me now. I flat iron it until my arms go numb. I smell something burning. You know what? Just thug it out. Great, I look respectable. Grabbing my jacket, I run down the stairs. We really need an escalator.

Running into the dining room, I see everyone at the dinner table, no one in a hurry or rush. "Young master, would you like to join us?" The British accent of the old butler made me calm down, only for a millisecond. "Sorry, Al, but I'm late!" I grab a waffle off the table. "What in hell's name are you talking about?" the little devil speaks up. "Damian," his name makes my skin crawl. Ever since he got here, he's been on my back like white on rice. "None of your business, pipesqueak!" I glare at him. Still, my father's icy blue eyes shine on me like an interrogation light. I straighten myself. "Sorry to burst your bubble, [Name], but it's Saturday." I try to hold in an involuntary groan. Every time Tim speaks, it’s like he’s trying to correct me on something. I get it, you're smart; get a life. "I knew that," I huff, the fastest lie in history. "Then why were you running like a chicken that lost its head, and why are you all dressed for school?" Jason says sarcastically, sipping his coffee. His mug has a middle finger on the bottom; it seemed like it was pointing at me. Asshole.

"Well, I was just... whatever." Grabbing a piece of French toast, I go to sit down, but Steph's hand reaches out to cover the seat. "Sorry, [Name], this is Cass's spot." Oh, what is this, middle school? I walk to the other side of the dining table, but both Tim and Damian cover the seat. "This is for Dick." Oh, this is middle school. My blood is beginning to boil. "Great, I guess all the seats are taken. Thanks, team." I snatch a plate of pancakes off the table, walking up to my room. "Thank Allah! I can't stand it when she sits with us. She won't stop rambling about Power Rangers. She's so childish." I hear laughs coming from downstairs. Well, isn’t that just great? So much for a family breakfast. I eat in my bed. I’d rather doom scroll through Tumblr than talk to those losers—those really cool, strong, popular losers. I stare up at the Batman merch in my room. They’re all in order from Batman all the way down to Duke, the last member of the family. I used to find it weird having merch, shirts, and posters of them. I mean, they’re my "family." It’s just odd, you know? But I idolize them; even Damian—fighting crime, saving lives—all that crap. They're cool, but who knew cool people could be so cruel and mean? But let's be real; the family tree should've ended at Duke. I have no powers, no cool ninja training. I'm not smart or athletic. I sweat at the idea of running a mile. I get good grades, but I’m not Tim Drake-smart. I’m not even a Cass-level fighter. Hell, I don’t fight, period. The bottom line is, I’m "normal," as normal as a high school girl who likes video games, comics, anime, and cartoons can be. Other kids wouldn’t call you "normal," but in my family, I’m a saint compared to them.

But that's enough of that. I'm going downstairs to put my food away. Everyone’s gone, just Alfred in the kitchen cleaning up. "Hey, Al, where's everyone?" I say, putting my dish in the sink, then picking up a sponge, ready to help the old man out. "Oh, family outing." Family outing? "To where?" "To see a play, I believe, or a show. Maybe I saw tickets?" A show? "Don't you think it's too early for that stuff?" I reply, my hands getting wet with soap foam. "It's a long play; they had to get there early." Oh really, huh? "Was there a ticket for me?" "I'm afraid not." Oh, just great. Dad can buy tickets for his clan of kids, but not for his singular daughter? Fucking fantastic. My hands stop scrubbing the plate. "Oh cool." I didn't want to sound disappointed, but let's be real—I was. They always do things without me, and whenever I'm invited to things, it's out of pity—like a little kid your mom forces you to play with because she met the other mom, and now you guys have to be friends and hang out by pure association, even if you don't want to. I can see it whenever they're around—going to the theater with Steph, Cass, and Babs to watch some superhero movie, I shout out facts like crazy: "You know Spider-Man isn't allowed to drink any alcohol!" during the Into the Spider-Verse movie premiere. I could feel them rolling their eyes at me. Fake fans. Next time, they didn't invite me at all. Maybe I talk too much, or I’m too childish. I tried to invite Tim to play a fighting game with me. "The MHA fighting game? What are you, twelve? You're so childish, [Name]." He's acting like MHA is a bad anime. I went to their library with Jason once and picked up Percy Jackson. "Look, Jay, they have the whole series!" I looked down and saw him holding The Giver. Oh well, these are completely different books. "Can you try not to read something so childish? Grow up, [Name]." Oh yeah, only middle schoolers read Percy Jackson—it's not like he's a staple of my childhood or that I grew up with Vivra character designs of him, not at all. But it seems like a recurring theme: "You're childish, so, [Name]." "Grow up, [Name]." Maybe that's why I wasn’t invited. I'm immature and childish. Hell, even Damian’s more mature than me, and he's like 14. But I'm not childish; I'm just passionate and energetic, and I like things. I like a lot of things. Is it wrong to enjoy stuff to the fullest? I could never be nonchalant. If I can't show how I feel, then who am I?

"Young master?" "Sorry, Al, just deep in thought." I sighed. He patted my back gently. "You could spend time with me." "You don't mind?" "Not at all." At least there's someone who loves my passion. "You don't mind?" He shakes his head gently, so I spend Saturday with Alfred. It was mostly cleaning and listening to R&B. I never knew he liked Janet Jackson, but who doesn't like Janet Jackson? She's Janet Jackson! We were lip-syncing to Ginuwine: "So Anxious!" The house was clean; time to watch trashy TV—Dance Moms. It's our main show. "No! Why are they dancing like that? Horrible choreography!" I laugh. "You couldn't do better!"

"I have to run some errands; would you like to come?"

"Nah, I'll chill here, thanks, Al."

He pulled me into a strong hug despite his frame and then pulled me off the couch. "Get me something pretty, please!" I screamed out.

"Yes, young master!"

I giggled. If it doesn't burn my stomach in seconds, I don't want it. Flipping through the TV channels like crazy until I hit the news, I saw them all together without me in fancy clothes and coats, smiling at the camera. This was more than a play or a show; this was some kind of event, and they didn't think to bring me or tell me. They didn't think of doing anything to inform me, and the way they were smiling and talking, it was like they planned this all week, all month even. And no one even told me—they didn't invite me; they left me here.

"Dick, where's your little sister tonight?" said a reporter.

"Which one?!" Duke chimed in with a big smile.

"No, I mean [Name]," the reporter said, putting the microphone in his face.

"You know how she is. [Name] is just too childish sometimes."

Dick ran a hand through his hair, laughing. His blue eyes gleamed at the camera. Childish?

"Yeah, she can't go to events like this; she'd lose it," Steph barked out, making Tim chuckle.

"Yes, she's a handful; she wouldn't know how to act around these cameras."

Really, Dad, really? They're all laughing and making fun of me. The same words come up: "Childish," "Grow up," "Handful." I'm not that bad, am I? The final nail in the coffin: "She's so immature." From Damian? Immature? I'm not immature; I like comic books and collect figures and plushies and trading cards. I make cosplays and write fanfiction. That doesn't make me childish; I'm just passionate, that's all. I have passion. I care for the things I like, so what if they were made for little kids and boys to play on the playground? It doesn't mean I can't like it, doesn't mean I can't enjoy it, doesn't mean I can't handle a few cameras or a few mics.

Hot tears run down my face. "I-I I'm not childish! I can handle it! I can be a Wayne! I can grow up! I can!" Who am I trying to convince—me or the damn TV screen? I feel my body shaking. I rip the plug of the TV out of the wall, throwing it to the ground. I run upstairs to my room, seeing the Batman and Robin merch staring at me. "Childish? I'll show you childish!" I wipe the figures off my shelf; they hit the floor, smashing apart. The heads fell off and the wings of Red Robin's suit broke. I smashed the Lego Batmobile piece, scattering it everywhere. I ripped the posters off my wall. "Who's the handful now, huh, Bruce?" I stomped on the poster and snatched a Batman plushie off my nightstand. I took a mechanical pencil and stabbed it; the stuffing pooled out like blood. "I'm not a handful!" I threw it against the wall near Damian's action figures and Dick's.

"I'm not a handful!" I yelled as loud as I possibly could, my voice breaking. I flopped down onto the floor, my legs shaking. I could hardly breathe, staring at the mess all around me. I sniffled and wiped my face gently. I picked up the Batman plushie and pulled it close to my chest. "Sorry, Daddy."

@milkbean69

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[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 3

-.-. …. .. .-.. -.. .-. . -. / -.— —- ..- -. —. / .- … / - . -.

Part 1 found here | AO3

CW: A/B/O sexism I guess is what we should call this? Trauma reactions to doctors, awful in world politics.

Keeping his eyes on you Kyle’s concern rises with each shallow breath you suck between your teeth.

The nurse had been watching and held the door open as he directed Kyle to the first room on the right. Settling your body flat on the table he steps back, trying to give the nurse room to move. With two chairs, a small counter and a sink, and a ‘calming’ green on the walls the room looks exactly like he expects it to.

“How long ago was the exposure?” The nurse is taking your vitals and you stiffen as if your body hit rigor. “Ma’am if you don’t relax this is going to take longer.”

“Less than thirty minutes,” Kyle answers coolly.

The whine, primal and terrified, that comes from your throat as the blood pressure cuff is tightening has Kyle moving to where your head lays. Running the back of his knuckles down your cheeks he whispers to you. The scent of your fear, clear and uncontaminated with whatever afflicted you normally, flooded the room.

“Hey, hey. I’m here. You’re not alone. Everything will be okay.”

The nurse, an alpha by scent, makes a noise that pulls Kyle to look at him. The nurse, Johnson by the glance to his name tag, keeps his eyes on the monitor taking your blood pressure and pulse. Kyle focuses back on you. Your body regains mobility as the cuff is removed, eyes rolling like a horse looking for a place to run.

“Her vitals are all looking normal, the doctor will be in shortly,” Johnson shuts the door behind him. He must not be far enough away from the door when he starts talking to someone else. “Beta bitch in room one has track marks up both arms. I knew betas died from drugs more than any other gender but it’s wild to see that out here.”

Kyle would have stormed out the door to rip into the man if your hands hadn’t slapped into his, holding them tight. Pulling yourself upright from the reclined position you tuck your knees to your chest and rest your chin atop them. Letting go of his hands you curl them around your legs.

Sitting on a chair positioned next to the bed Kyle looks up at you, trying to catch your eyes.

Even when he could see the streaks of color through your irises no recognition lit your features. Concerned, Kyle stays sitting on the bed with you watching each breath and twitch. Nothing changes until the door opens with a faint knock.

“My name is Doctor Chen. Can you tell me what happened today?”

Like an automaton, you uncurl from your crunched position. Legs folded you straighten your back and rest your forearms on your knees palms aimed at the ceiling. Kyle had seen poses similar in meditation videos he would watch sometimes to give his mind a moment to relax. There is no peace in your pose. The width of your open eyes and the shallowness of your breath all remind him of victims he has saved from torture.

Memories that left their marks on his bones should not be reflected in your posture, he faced evil abroad and in the mirror to keep people like you safe.

He glanced at the man, dark hair, light blue scrubs, thick-rimmed glasses, and a white overcoat Kyle mostly associated with lab work. A quick draw of breath and Kyle marked him as an alpha. Dr. Chen did not look at you once, eyes staying firmly on him.

“We had an exposure to an allergen.”

Dr. Chen nodded once and sat on the small, wheeled stool that Kyle only ever saw in doctor’s offices. He wondered if they had to special order them or if they appeared in the building like fairies to offers of milk and bread. The man logged into his computer with a swipe of his name tag to an RFID reader and tapped a few buttons before turning to look at Kyle again.

“Do you know what the allergy was in reaction to?” He adjusts his glasses further up his nose.

“We don’t and would like to get some testing. Does this clinic do testing?” Kyle asked; all of his medical care happened on base.

Dr. Chen’s eyes glanced at you for the first time with a flare of his nose as he took in the fear salting the room with your uniquely beta scent. Kyle knew deeper than his marrow that you could turn off his brain and any explosive rage that he dealt with being an alpha. You didn’t use that now, but by the gods, he wished you would. The flash of disgust that whipped across Dr. Chen’s face ignited the soul-deep rage that existed with being an alpha.

“Dr. Chen,” the darkness, power, in Kyle’s voice brought the doctor’s face to him. “You will treat my wife with respect or I will ensure you don’t live to regret it.”

The cloying, nose-coating scent of Dr. Chen’s alpha rising to meet the challenge filled Kyle’s nose. He let the monster rise in his eyes, keeping his scent muted. Military training had to be good for something beyond the battlefield.

Kyle stands, placing his body between the doctor and the bed where you sit. Arms crossed and shoulders spread wide he used the mass of his bulk to show the barrier he could be. He didn’t know you, but Kate had seen something that prompted her to give them the care over you. You would not feel any harm if he could prevent it. You started to rock softly, eyes still unseeing. Then you begin to hum Edelweiss, effectively breaking the tension. Chen lost the staring match when he glanced at you.

“Do your job doctor, so I don’t have to.”

“That is out of line Mr—”

“Sergeant, special forces.”

Dr. Chen’s eyes narrowed but accepted the correction.

“Sergeant, your wife is doing fine by her visual inspection and her vitals agree. This clinic does not offer allergy testing but there are a few private practices here that you can call.” He turned back to his computer, typing in what Kyle assumed to be a summary of the visit today. “Most of what we do here for allergies is to stop the reaction and watch for any adverse effects.”

“I will need a copy of that report for our records,” Kyle stated it like a command he would give a private or a trainee. A firm ‘this is the course of action you will be taking’ that did not leave any room for questions or disobedience.

If Dr. Chen thought of arguing with Kyle, he kept it to himself. He left shortly after with a comment that Johnson would be in soon with the paperwork he requested. That is how Johnny found them, Kyle’s arms crossed and holding back his rage and you the juxtaposition of a peaceful body and an absent mind.

“You are more than you appear, wife,” Johnny took your hand, curling fingers around palms.

They wait in the cadence of your voice for nearly five minutes before Johnson appears, papers in hand. Kyle snaps a vice grip around the man’s wrist, pulling him close.

“Johnson. If I hear you telling tales about betas, and more specifically about my wife I will paint the walls of your room with colors not even crime techs will unsee.”

The man under his eyes paled quite impressively. Plucking the papers from his hand Kyle dropped Johnson’s hand and turned to his pack mate and partner in crime. Johnny’s thumb traced a track along the back of your hand as he watched the interaction play out before him.

“Can you carry her to the truck?”

Johnny’s eyes flicked as he watched the nurse flee from the room.

“Yeah. Up you pop bonnie,” he settled one arm over his shoulder and then the other before lifting you under the thighs to settle around his waist.

Still, you hummed, no life in your form. Kyle had a glare and a harsh, nose-blistering scent of rage for anyone who looked too long. Johnny settled in the back seat with you, buckling you into the middle so he could keep a hand on you and Kyle could check on you in the review mirror.

The drive home is tense, filled only with Kyle’s quiet mutterings about inexperienced winter drivers. When he turns onto the path home Johnny asks a question.

“What the hell happened in the clinic when I was on the phone with John?”

The steering wheel creaks under the pressure of Kyle’s hands.

“Nurse and doctor had some awful things to say about our wife, called her a drug addict, and couldn’t keep professional.”

“The hell? Why did they do that?” Johnny’s face in the rearview is tight with angry concern.

“It’s due to the beta laws that went into place ten…eleven? Yeah maybe eleven years ago.” Your voice is an unexpected addition to the conversation.

Kyle slows to a stop in the snow, throwing the truck in park and turning to look at you.

“What beta laws?”

He knows his gaze is harsh when you flinch back. Johnny wraps an arm around you and you settle a bit.

“There were laws on the books for a long time that weren’t really enforced,” you swallow and look from man to man before staring at your knees and continuing. “About how betas weren’t allowed the same personhood rights as alphas and omegas due to the lack of either consistent rut or heat. Apparently, the ability to do both is scary to the government. Several years back a group successfully passed a new law that said basically that betas should be treated like children, unable to sign paperwork without an approving authority, have bank accounts alone, apply for a credit card, or passport, you name it without the approval of an alpha or omega. In some places it went beyond that, stripping beta’s of all rights.”

Johnny muttered under his breath something that sounded like ‘What the fuck’ but Kyle kept his eyes on you.

“What happened to you?” His whisper hardens on your skin like ice.

There is no weak, scared beta woman here, only a beast that would peel him apart if he pushed. He didn’t scare her, but doctors did.

“No.”

Nodding once and accepting the answer Kyle turned back to driving. He would discuss this all with the guys after they had settled into bed. The interactions with the clinic staff were nothing like he had ever experienced before. Though as he thought of it he couldn’t remember the last time he had worked with a beta.

Simon and John step onto the porch as Kyle parks, as if they had been keeping watch for them.

The four men set about their tasks, hauling everything inside. You follow when Johnny reaches into the back seat and helps you out, hand tucked in his as he carries in a few bags. Simon sets about setting up the bed they picked for your room. Johnny settles you at the table, laughing and joking at you as he prepares a plate of food. Kyle and John set to work on creating the dresser. They don’t hear you laugh at any of Johnny’s stories but John points to you once and Kyle catches a glimpse of a smile. The sun slips away into the trees as each of the men finishes their task. Once the bed is made and the mattress settled on the frame John and Kyle lift the dresser into place.

The three men who had built things collapsed onto the couch facing the back wall of windows into the woods. Simon is settled between John and Kyle an arm dropped around each of them. You are standing on the back porch, head tilted back as you look at the ink-dark sky. The coat and boots you wear are those picked up today. Kyle didn’t think to wonder where Johnny had gone until he bounced down the steps with a bright bundle of fabric over one shoulder as he shoved a beanie on his head.

“Where ya going, Johnny?” Simon pitches his voice to carry but not to shout.

“Gonna give our wife a gift,” he winks at his lovers and pops out the back door.

Simon tightens the arm around Kyle.

“He loves you. That won’t change if he chooses to love someone new as well,” John murmured.

Kyle looked over at John who lay his head fully on Simon, nose buried in the scent gland at his neck. John licks the length of the gland causing Simon to let out a short whine.

Glancing back out to the back porch Kyle watches Johnny settle a shawl across your shoulders and sees in your profile confusion, hesitance. When you look down and clutch the shawl tight to your chest Kyle could only call the look on your face concerned acceptance. Johnny grinned at you like the sun had risen.

“To bed Simon, I can feel you grumble. Your rut starts soon. Let Johnny get our wife settled and let Kyle and I get you into bed.” John pushes up from the couch pulling Simon with him.

Kyle stands as well, eyes drifting to you and Johnny one last time. Standing side by side the two stare at the stars. John calls him from his observations and Kyle starts up the stairs after his lovers. His other lover will arrive with time.

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

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[letsdosciencetoit]

WIP Wednesday! - BuckTommy 5+1 - Part 6b

"Just a short little +1 to wrap up my 5+1 story" I say as I type up another 1000 words of the final part without finishing it.

5 times the 118 worries about telling Buck that Tommy got married and 1 time they realize they didn't have to.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 +1 a

1b - Maddie

Buck couches down next to Chimney, eye level with Jee, and in his most serious voice admits to her, “Jee, I did get a puppy.  Her name is Quinn.  Would you like to meet her?”

Jee, to her credit, looks up at Maddie for permission before she turns back to Buck and nods enthusiastically.

He scoops her up under the arms and picks her up again to carry her out the back doors.  She starts talking a mile a minute, asking questions about the dog while Maddie and Chimney follow at a more sedate pace with Robert still in his car seat.

Maddie takes time to take in the main floor of the house as they pass through it. The kitchen is neat, without much in the way of food or supplies lying out.

What catches Maddie off guard is that all of the doors are closed.  With the loft, everything was open without any privacy.  Despite the open concept kitchen and living room, the house seems a little more closed off than the loft, or even Eddie’s place would have been.

Buck has left the patio doors open; large, sliding glass doors that span the whole wall. The open onto an expansive backyard that has a concrete wall at the far end and greenery that gives privacy from the neighbours. 

The backyard is definitely set up for a party. There are tables scattered about the yard, and a raised wooden dance floor set up in the middle. There’s an outdoor kitchen area close to the house, with a bar space set up.  To one side, there’s a fire pit and chairs, to the other is a small grassy area with a large dog pen set up where Jee sits squealing as a small beagle puppy tries to climb into her lap and lick her face.

Jee is nearly beside herself with joy, and Buck sits beside her, knees hugged to his chest, basking in it.  Maddie can’t remember the last time she’s seen him this happy.

The puppy spots the newcomers, and lets out a few  more yips.  Buck stands up, and motions for them to join him.  “You guys are a little earlier than I expected.  Do you mind watching Quinn with Jee while I get changed and make sure everything is ready to go?”

Chimney nods, and Maddie can tell he’s calculating what kind of mental manouvering he’s going to have to do with Jee to convince her they can’t get a dog.  She is already head over heels with this puppy.

Robert starts to wake up, face scrunching, and arms stretching out adorably. 

“Do you mind if I come inside with you?” Maddie asks.  “Just let me know where I can set up to change Robert, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Buck seems a little put off buy the suggestion, like he didn’t want her back in the house, but he says, “Sure!  Follow me – I can show you the guest room we have set up for Jee.  That can be yours for tonight if Robert needs a quite place, or you need to get a little quite time yourself.”

Maddie nods gratefully and follows him inside.  Buck leads her one of the closed doors on the main floor, and cracks it open for her.  It’s a small room with a single bed and a small pack and play set up.  There’s a small glider set up in one corner, and a small kids table and book shelf set up in another.  The room is packed, but Maddie catches that the bookshelf is full of Jee’s favourites. 

“Buck,” Maddie tries to say, eyes welling up with tears.  “You put this room together for the kids?”

Buck offers her a shy smile, like he was embarrassed to be caught out.  “Well, yeah.  I know you guys are still finding your own routine, but I wanted you to be comfortable coming to visit, especially if you wanted to get out of your house for a break.”

The tears start coming in earnest, and Buck takes a step back.  “No. I’m sorry Maddie.  I didn’t mean to over step.”

Maddie shook her head vehemently, and tried to scrub the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.  “It’s the damn hormones. Buck, it means so much to me that you would do this.  I’ve been so worried that you’ve been pulling away from all of us, but I know you needed the space out of the shadow of the 118.  And you’ve clearly been flourishing with these changes.  I just wasn’t sure you wanted to make room for us in this new life.”

“Awe Maddie, no,” Buck sighed, puling Maddie in for a hug.  “I’m always going to need my big sister, and you, Chim and the kids are always going to be my family.  I just needed some space to figure out who I was when I wasn’t Buck from the 118.”

Maddie pulls back from the hug, and looks up at Buck.  “And did you figure it out.”

He smiled back at her. “Yeah. I think I did.”

The moment was ended by the sound of something crashing on the floor above.

“Is someone else here?” Maddie asked, and she would have pressed further but Robert decided test out his lungs and voice his displeasure of at being left in the car seat.

Buck shook his head. “Must be some boxes upstairs falling over. I haven’t had the chance to unpack everything just yet.  You settle Robert.  I’ll check out what it was and meet you back outside.”

Buck left, closing the door as he did, and Maddie went to work undoing the buckles on Robert’s seat.  She pulled him out and held him close to her chest while she took in the room Buck had set up for her kids.  It was even painted her favourite colour, with a border of unicorns around the ceiling.  She breathed in the smell of Robert’s hair and felt more settled that she had in months. 

Next part

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Route 666

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC

Summary: it’s the year 1984 and Star goes to a roadside bar off of Devil’s Highway that a friend of hers invited her to. What Star doesn’t know is that someone is waiting for her beyond the velvet drapes.

Warnings: SMUT. Lots of pussy licking. 18+ CONTENT. Mentions of blood.

Part two.

Stack.

This brother has an aura Star craved. Mysterious and very charismatic. They sort of glided through the throng of dancers as if walking on water. Stack stroked Star’s hand with his thumb soothingly. The sensation calmed her nerves and unsteady breathing.

Star didn’t know if it was the liquor that had her feeling dazed or if she was under his hypnosis, but she let him take her hand while she followed through the door of Vaisseau. After grabbing her things from coat check, they were outside now, the evening air sweeping her hair every which way.

Stack’s footsteps stopped in front of a motorcycle with a seat embroidered with sparkling rhinestones or…diamonds? And an iron cross emblem. He released her hand briefly to swing onto his bike. Stack reached out a hand for Star to climb up. He revved the bike to life with his other. Star made sure to take her time as she threw her thick thigh up and over until her crotch—panties non existent, fish nets creating a sensation over her clit—onto the raised portion of the seat.

Her arms circled Stack’s waist and she interlocked her fingers tightly together. Star pressed her right cheek against the leather material of his vest. Tough, rebellious, or even primal. Durable and strong. The pearl snap earrings over her earlobes revealed themselves as her hair moved in the direction of the wind. The sweat against the sepia flesh of her back dried, leaving behind a sticky surface. The scent of Christian Dior Hypnotic Poison with its sensual and captivating vanilla lingered against every inch of her skin, exuding a brazen, conquering spirit.

The deafening roar of his motorcycle outside of Vaisseau made him appear like a feral beast waiting to break free of his chains and start racing. There was nothing more exciting than riding on the back of his motorcycle to the limit and feeling at one with the machine. It was agile, moving onto the highway with ease. The wind burned her eyes, so she shut them, resting her chin against his back. The dewy fragrance of the air tickled her nose.

Going to a motel was the same as choosing junk food or casual sex, you realised it was gonna be seriously underwhelming but it was cheap and available. It felt different with Stack. Nothing about him screamed underwhelming. More like exhilarating. They arrived outside of a motel lit with a greenish hue. It was two levels and eerily quiet.

Stack pulled into a spot with big numbers painted in red against the concrete. 109.

He got off first, helping Star down and grabbing a hold of her hand again. He pocketed his motorcycle keys before digging for the ones to open his motel door. Star glanced around. She spotted an older gentleman, probably of Hispanic descent, smoking a cigarette against a truck. Soft music from a radio to her left and the sound of a soap opera through an opened window to her right.

The room was clean, the bedding was fresh, for a motel around here that's actually pretty good. Stack flicked on a light, bathing the room in a low, warm glow. He tossed his moto vest against a nearby arm chair and his room keys on a side table next to an alarm clock that read: 1:52 am. Stack made sure to shut the curtains and close the blinds up nice and tight. Star eyed the peeling wallpaper, the single king sized bed, and a mirror situated on a wall behind the bed.

Star sat her cheetah printed hand bag on the other end table before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes flicked around nervously, watching Stack take off his boots. The leather pants he wore sat lower on his hips, revealing a sharp v–cut and a happy trail. Star unzipped her boots and pulled them off, flexing her toes.

He stood firm in front of her, Star looking up at him through her lashes. Stack extended a hand agonizingly slow, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Star exhaled a shaky breath.

“Do you trust me?”

Star wanted to say she barely knew him, but for some reason, she felt so safe with him.

“I trust you. Unless you give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”

Stack smiled as the golden ambience of the motel room surrounded him. The sound of the TV with its static and lack of frequency didn’t stop the sound of Star’s heavy breaths and loud pulse reverberating her ear drums. Stack tugged, bringing Star to her feet. He took slow steps backward, turning her so she could see herself in the mirror.

“You’re so beautiful. Skin so soft. Curves just right.”

Star smiled bashfully.

“What if I told ya’ I wanna make ya’ minds forever?”

Star circled her tongue against the inside of her cheek to fight the urge to smile.

“I’d say I’ve heard it all before. What makes you any different, huh?”

“I’m definitely nothin’ like the men before me. Believe ‘dat. You’ll know soon enough.”

Star traced circles against his hand that pressed against her middle, “Mhm…well, I’m here now…”

Star reached up to stroke the back of his head.

“…Ya’ like to be bitten?”

Star pondered, “Uh…never have before…depends on how hard you trying to bite me.”

“How about spanked?”

Star grinned, “Oh, yeah. I love that type of shit.”

“Mm…aight…how ‘bout spit? Like that?”

Star could feel Stack’s dick jump against her backside.

“Love it. You should know…”

A knowing smile deepened his dimples, “That’s right…how could I forget, my apologies, gorgeous.”

Stack lightly nibbled on Star’s neck, causing her to giggle.

“You have a mouth to break up a home over,” Star said with a laugh.

“I got sum’ else too…”

“I know,” Star licked her lips, “You’re blessed.”

Stack circled his hips against her ass.

“You get so excited…I like it,” Star spoke with a whimper.

Stack turned Star around with a growl. He pressed his body on Star’s so she couldn’t escape him. His skillful hands slicked up her arms and gripped her tight. Not too much pressure, but enough to show her who’s boss. Star’s mind didn’t have to wonder what kind of freakiness went down with Stack. The mere thought made her clit throb in anticipation of it all.

Stack leaned in closer to her before Star let him take her into a passionate kiss with his soft, probing tongue.

His warm, wet tongue curled around hers expertly, stealing her breath and even her soul. The kiss wasn’t like any kiss she’d ever gotten. It was much more than a quick peck or a rushed one. He took his time. Learned the taste of tequila on her tongue. The way her soft, glossy brown lips moved around his. The sounds she made. Their heads rocked from side to side, Star falling deeper into the kiss.

Her entire body screamed for this man. He didn’t care how many dicks been in her mouth. How many pussies she licked He didn’t care that she made money off of sex with men and women alike. He didn’t care about the stigma of being with a porn star. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. Big bulge and all. Star missed this. The anticipation of being with a man that had what Stack had.

Star dragged her hand down to cup his erection. Stack brought one heavy hand down over her ass with a sharp whack before grabbing a handful. He tilted his head without even being told so and Star took that as he liked his ear licked and nibbled on. She did just that. Meanwhile, Stack’s eyes glowed and his mouth began to drool. He sucked in his bottom lip to capture it all before it landed on Star’s shoulder.

Star moved her kisses to his exposed neck. A ghostly hiss whizzed around her. She palmed his dick tighter, nails digging into the leather of his pants. His deep groans sounded monstrous in a way. That left an impression on Star. This was a primal man indeed. And she made him weak. He’s definitely her biggest fan.

“You taste so good,” Stack whispered against her lips.

It was his turn now. Both of his hands were in her hair before he gently moved her head to the side so he could kiss her neck. Star closed her eyes, feeling him sucking her hungrily. As if he had performed magic, they seemed to glide across the carpet to the arm chair. Stack held an arm against her lower back to stop her from falling. His mouth left her neck, leaving behind an ache. He sat down and spread his thighs deliciously while his arms rested on the chair.

“Autograph,” Star heaved with a laugh, “Where do you want it?”

Stack, eyes dragging over her, went to undo his pants.

Star dropped her lustful gaze to his fingers working to reveal what she’d been dying to see since he pressed it between her ass like a hotdog to a bun.

He thumbed the leather past his thighs, revealing tight, coarse pubic hair and then that thing popped out like a snake in the grass. What white people called a Mandingo with its racial slur that Star despised in porn, she just saw a beautiful black man with a big joystick she’d love to play with. This wasn’t fetish. This was art. Black beauty. And she felt right at home.

An all American whopper. Eight–inch’s of fun. All the dick she could handle. Extra-long shaft that naturally flexes to fit inner curves for deeper penetration. Great for the G-Spot or prostate. Perfectly-shaped tip, textured skin with veins, and a weighty pair of balls.

Star dropped to her knees a little too hard.

She tugged on his pants, removing them completely.

Stack grabbed a remote that was wedged between the cushion of the chair and pressed a button as he aimed it towards the TV.

Loud moans and erotic music played. Star turned her head to see what was happening. Visuals of herself giving a solo performance was right before her. Goosebumps covered both of her arms. She was splayed out on a leather chair with her legs draped over the arms while her left fingers circled her clit beyond a patch of hair. She could even see her own natural lubrication dripping like honey from a glass.

“Stack…”

“I take ya’ everywhere with me. I’ve spent so many days dreaming of what it would feel like to have ya’ all to myself…”

Star faced him again, staring up at him from her kneeled position between his legs. Star’s eyes burned with passion when she spotted drool like no other spilling over his bottom lip. This man was so hungry for her. To the point that he was visibly salivating? Without even tasting her everywhere yet?

Stack whispered sweetly, “I’m the unspoken passion women secretly desire. You wonder about the mystery behind my eyes, don’t you?”

Did he just read her mind?

“Yes,” Star whispered back.

Stack didn’t make a move to wipe his chin.

“I’m sex, uptight and poised. The lover you dream of…”

Star shuddered underneath his gaze. Enthralled by every word that came from his thick lips. Every inch of her skin crawled as she moved her hands all over his body. Smooth, unblemished, dark skin looked as if it had been kissed by the ideal amount of sun provided by the Mississippi Delta. His chiseled chest, ripped abs, and defined, burly arms had her mouth watering lustfully.

“Stack…”

“Yes?”

“I want to suck your dick.” Star stated with assertiveness, feeling her inner thighs and stockings beginning to soak.

Stack placed his index finger over her lips, “Shhh…not another word…”

For some reason, she couldn’t utter another word. It was like he had taken her voice from her. She couldn’t make sense of the way she was feeling as her breathing intensified. Her clit throbbed harder, causing her to rock back and forth.

Removing the halter to her dress, Star allowed it to pool around her waist, revealing pendulous breasts and thick, brown nipples. Her skin was painted with sweat, no circulating air in that motel room. Star quivered as she took him into her hand again, weighing the heaviness in her palm.

“Suck it. Take what you want, baby.”

Star reached for him but Stack snatched his dick back.

“Suck it all the way down too, understand?”

Star did just that.

She kissed the tip. Made love to it with her glossy brown lips, moans equaling those from the TV. She let go of his shaft, no need to keep it in place. It was hard enough to stand straight up like a stick in the mud. Star gathered saliva on her tongue and slathered it all over Stack’s ample package, slurping afterwards to savor his taste. Stack watched her, eyes following the movement of her tongue and closing briefly whenever she let her lips have a moment.

“Can’t believe you suckin’ on my dick, Star…”

The tremble in his voice. She gave his balls some love too, staring up at him beyond that girth like she was peaking around a corner. Stack’s mouth dropped open, teasing her with some tongue.

Star popped her lips off his sack and suctioned her lips along the underside of his dick until her lips were flesh around his tip. She slithered her mouth down with a tight jaw until he was seated at the back of her throat. That delicious curve molded perfectly with her mouth. Star began sucking. Stack smoothed her hair out of the way and held it back so he could watch her better.

“Gahdamn…this how you do it?”

Star hummed.

“You a motherfuckin’ pro. No wonder I love you so much.”

Star blinked up at him with a dick drunk look.

“You love sucking big dick?”

She nodded her head, continuing her blow job.

“Pop your lips off and tell me how much you love sucking big dick.” Stack demanded with a gruff tone.

Star did as she was told, like he was the puppeteer.

She did it nice and slow and lingered on the tip before releasing him. Stack’s nostrils flared as a deep and resonant, “Mmm,” billowed from his lips.

Star jerked with the help of spit, “I love sucking your big dick, Stack…it’s so big…and fat…more than what I’m used to when I fuck for the camera…” Star said with a practiced pitch in her voice that drove men crazy.

“Bet that pussy hole ain’t used to what I got. I know I’m right…”

Star damn near came.

She shook her head, “Not even close. I don’t remember what it feels like to be filled up with all this,” Star slapped him against her palm, “I need a reminder.”

“Put your mouth back on me first.”

Star sank back down on his dick. Stack shut his eyes and his tongue glided over sharp fangs. The lethal incisors were poking him in his bottom lip. Stack’s eyes, glowing brightly, watched her eat his dick up. He was close.

“You ready for this nut?”

Star responded with more enthusiastic sucking. She rolled her neck and pulled out all her nasty tricks. Spit on it. Flicked it with her tongue. Kissed his tip. Sat him in the back of throat. Slurped on his balls. Stack’s hips levitated from the chair and a strong fist in her hair kept her still.

Heavy breathing and sucking sounds with an occasional slap from his balls on her chin.

He was throat fucking her. Star felt hot tears roll down her face. She gripped his thighs.

“Mhm…mhm…keep yo’ ass still!”

Her nose pressed against his crotch almost suffocating her.

Hot jizz made its way down her throat, feeding her lust for him. Stack let her go and Star’s mouth popped off his dick.

A dick that still was as hard as it was before she sucked it.

Star went to wipe her mouth but Stack grabbed her by the neck, leaned forward, and thrust his tongue in her mouth. Star could taste his saliva. It mingled with hers.

“Your mouth felt like I was digging for gold…”

He kissed her.

“So good…”

Stack released Star’s neck. He helped her to her feet and took it upon himself to remove the rest of her dress. Star shimmied her hips, full nudity he’d only ever seen on screen finally revealed to him.

Stack was patient. Not rushed like she was used to.

He twirled her around, taking in every inch of her from the follicles of her head to the polish on her toes. When she stopped in front of him again, Stack allowed his hands to explore. He first glided his fingertips along her collarbone before they found its way to her breasts.

“Everything about ya’…so succulent.”

Stack fought the urge to extend his fangs.

What he wouldn’t give to sample her blood for the first time. With over fifty years of experience, he plans to. He’d been waiting to get his hands on Star Vixen. And she came to him so easily. Now here she was, standing in front of him dripping in sweat and smelling tasty. The aroma of her sex burned his nose in the best way.

The fans in Vaisseau blew her scent around, and Stack had to make a move fast to stake his claim. He could sense the pressure from surrounding beasts of the night, ready to fight for her. Stack would put up a fight. Star was his. His to feed from. His to fuck. She would be his for however long he planned to stay in Arizona before there was another calling.

The life of a Vampire required you to stick to the shadows. Stack did just that, feeding off of the blood of humans. Sweet, rich, and even addictive. The taste grew more intense the more he fed. He didn’t take too kindly to it at first, but each person has their own unique taste. He just knew Star tasted like syrup. He couldn’t wait to drench his goatee with it.

Stack’s lips found her nipples and he just knew they tingled once his tongue roamed.

And they did just that for Star.

“I’m gonna have my way wit’ ya’ tonight,” Stack uttered before flicking his tongue back and forth.

Each nipple. Equal attention.

His thick fingers reached between her legs and played with her clit through her fishnets. His fingers played around with her clit, slipping through her crevasses, finding her soft wet spot, fingering her slowly. He could tell from the look on her face she’d never been fingered like this before. Stack explored, changing the pace and rhythm of his fingers, playing around in her pussy.

Star clawed his shoulders.

“Bring one foot up…”

Star obeyed his command.

She was spread better for him. Perfect.

He was knuckle deep, fingers swimming in her pussy.

“I’m just tryna see what I got to work wit’…”

Star whimpered. Just leaking all over his fingers.

“Star…ya’ hear that?”

She stilled herself to get a good listen. Lips sealed.

Squelch squelch squelch

“like I’m diving in the ocean…so fuckin’ wet…”

Stack attempted to add a third finger but Star clenched up and hopped off his fingers.

He brought his hand up between them and Star watched with a dazed look at him rubbing his fingertips together. He sniffed his fingers first before sucking her mess off. Star stood still, eyes blazed, pussy missing his fingers. Those shining eyes held firm with her brown eyes and Stack dropped to his knees.

Get on your knees and arch your back

Star found herself getting into position on the edge of the bed. She did what she was told, arching over the bed, ass sitting high and open, fishnets imprinted in her flesh and revealing a hairy pussy.

“Have you ever had your ass properly worshipped?”

He took his fingers hooked them in her fishnets, and ripped them open with force. Star gasped.

Stack stared at the proud, thick, curves before him, the luscious mocha color of Star’s booty straining as she opened up, revealing both holes. Her ass was the perfect reward for him. That pussy he longed to eat for hours and hours. Stack kneeled down behind her, drooling all over himself to taste and touch and take of her rich, beautiful body.

Stack pinched the tender underside of one cheek, then the other, pulling them apart to see everything in between, a moan escaping his lips as he saw up close just how wet and creamy she is. There’s nothing like a woman’s ass spread out before you, waiting to be taken, to humble a man. Stack simply held her there in his hands, letting his thumbs rest along the edges of her lips, pacing himself before diving in for a delicious treat, one that already had his dick hard, strong, and ready.

You like that, daddy? You like the way I stroke my pussy?

You wanna taste it, don’t you? You want to eat me up like an ice cream sundae?

I’m all yours to devour…I want you to eat every inch of this wet pussy…don’t miss a drop…

Star on the TV was speaking the words for Star in person.

There was so much to taste and touch, Stack didn’t know where to start. The musky scent of her pussy perfume wafted through the air, smelling of sweat, and sweet decedents. Ass hovering in his face like this Stack could shoot a load all over the carpet right there. He couldn’t resist giving each cheek a solid slap, the sound echoing in the room as the sting reverberated in his palm so good.

Have you ever had this ass worshipped?

“No,” came her muffled reply as he spread her open and let his tongue explore her sweet curves.

Stack pressed against her twin globes, giving himself room to taste her sensitive flesh, the pucker writhing beneath him as he buried himself between her cheeks.

Stack curled his tongue into a point and dove right in while his fingers moved closer to her sex, stroking the wetness, what he found there just steadily dripping. He speared her asshole like a famished man. It was just him and her panting and grunting and her voice from the TV and the sound of Stack’s thick tongue and lips.

He dipped that greedy vampiric tongue into and out that ass, his drool acting as lubricant. He worshipped that ass like he’d never get another chance, tongue savoring her. That tongue wiggled down and he drilled it into her pussy. Stack filled her up as best he could, plunging in and out to the beat of her own rocking hips.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Stack heard her cry, a little louder than before as he pressed three fingers deep into her tight tunnel. Stack feasted on Star’s bottom again, those strikingly soft clappers against his cheeks. Sticky syrup coated his fingers. Her walls quivered. Her as whole clenched whenever he dragged his tongue over it.

You’re doing such a good job, daddy!

Eat me! Savor me! Take it!

Make me cum on your long tongue! Your sweet lips!

“Stack, oh my fucking goodness!”

His thumb flicked her bean in a downward motion from her position. He then rubbed it back and forth with his thumb. His tongue sat flat against her labia and he stroked up and down with it, drool coating her folds and adding towards a slippery ride. She twitched and writhed the more slickness appeared.

“Daddy, you’re drooling! So much all over me! It’s running down my stomach!”

Stack curled his arms around her legs and sucked on her clit with a tight grip. Star gathered the sheets into her fists and cried into the bed with nowhere to escape.

He made her cum. So hard.

Star could have fainted from how powerful that orgasm was.

And he wasn’t done.

Stack pulled his tongue out and kissed his way down to her ankles and feet. He got to his feet and positioned her himself for round two.

“Stack, you don’t need a break?” Star asked weakly.

His dick was iron clad and she couldn’t believe it.

He dragged her ass over the edge of the bed and got down on his knees again.

“I ain’t taking no break.” He mouthed. Stack smirked up at her, “You my meal until I’m through, understand?”

Star knew not to speak another word. Not when those eyes were sharp on her and gleaming like a monster.

Stack pulled her lips apart and finished where he started.

Star twitched in his mouth, pussy still sensitive.

“Thought I was gon’ get just one taste?”

Star’s eyes crossed when Stack’s full lips slurped up her clit and moved his head back and forth. She went to push him off and Stack locked her wrists.

“Uh–UHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

Stack flicked his tongue and it sounded like he was lapping at water in a bowl. She flowed. Poured all over his damn tongue. He worked hard for it. Stack drank as much as he could down. Next to the taste of blood, pussy juice was the best thing. His tip buzzed with desire.

“You got my pussy cumming again!”

Star gripped his hair tight. Her thighs bounced and shook. Stack was not getting off her pussy.

And her thriving was pissing him off.

“Ouch!”

Star felt a sharp prick on her inner thigh. Sharp enough to make her listen. She felt all the blood in her veins rush to that one particular place. It perked her nipples and made her clit a stiff bud. Stack licked away at the spot he nibbled on before kissing his way back to her pussy.

“Don’t move again,” Stack opened her lips, “Look what following directions get you..clit nice a fat for me how I like it.”

Stack flicked his tongue over it. Star moved her hips up and down, following the way his tongue would go up and down speedily.

“What I say?”

She didn’t have time to respond. Stack pushed her knees so far back she was folded. He went back to toying with her clit. Star clawed his arms, crying out in overstimulation.

“STACK!”

She felt his lips do its job and he sucked away to his dead hearts desire. She extended her neck and whispered “This your pussy, this your pussy…”

He finally came up for air. His whole face glistened with pussy juices down to his chest. Star, bathed in sweat, locked eyes with him.

She couldn’t began to describe how soaked she is.

Pubic hairs slick with spit and cum.

Pussy lips engorged and pulsating with sensitivity.

Hole clenching and unclenching around nothing.

Stack kissed all over her pussy softly, admiring his work in between. Star began to relax, body going lax against the bed.

“That was amazing, Stack. Thank you.”

Stack smirked against her clit. He peered up at her from between her legs.

“Anytime, baby…I mean that.”

Stack kissed his way up her body. Star was drifting in and out of consciousness. He positioned himself above her, staring down into her face.

Sleep, baby…we’ll meet again…

Stack stroked her face until her head fell off to its side. He picked her up and tucked her in. Stack could wait to sink his dick into her. He just needed to eat her pussy. And it was worth the wait.

The sensation of sleep settled over his body, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay. Dawn was approaching.

He’d sleep for now, bringing Star closer so he could breathe her in.

@eggnox @blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @slut4smokemoore09 @readingaddict1290 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @theethighpriestess @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @girlsneedlovingfanfics @cancerianprincess @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @dashhoney25 @pinkprincessluminary @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams

[yamumsyadadd]

missing sister (2)

Part 1

there will be 1 more in this series, set in the future.

“Nena, wake up. Noah? We need to leave.” Waking up was very disorienting. This was certainly not the bed from Keira’s apartment. It was too comfy, too warm and safe. 

“Alexia?” 

“Yes nena. You slept here last night. You’re coming with me and Olga. She’s going to drop me off at training and then you two are going to hang out.” 

Weird but okay. Begrudgingly, you got up. Taking the clothes handed to me from Olga and letting her guide me through to the bathroom. There were a lot of fancy things in there. Some smelt very nice, others did not. 

The hot shower and fancy products felt good. As soon as you stepped foot in the living area, Olga and Alexia stopped talking. Both turning to smile at me and usher you to the door. The car ride was quiet until we arrived at the training ground. 

“You’ll go with Olga today, I’ll talk to Keira and Lucy. We will see you later okay?” You nodded, not looking at her as she got out of the car. 

“Avísame si pasa algo. Mi amor, por favor, no la dejes fuera de tu vista. Te quiero.” She kissed Olga and walked away. 

Olga patted the front seat she was previously sitting in. “Mi amiga, piano. You like piano yes?” 

“I do yes.” 

“Perfecto! We go.” Her smile was infectious. There was something about Olga, the way she seemed to live so carefree. She was confident, within herself, her relationship with Alexia and her job. 

“Claudia Habla inglés. She good.” She led us up a small alleyway between two house, finally reaching someone’s backyard. There was a fire pit in the middle, couches and chairs surrounded it. Whoever lived here was very popular. 

“¡Hola Olga! ¡Como en!” The cheerful voice belonged to a blonde curly haired woman who has just as many tattoos as María. 

“Hola, Claud. Esta es Noah, la chica de la que te hablé”.

“HI Noah, I’m Claudia. Olga says you like the piano?” You nodded your head, hiding slightly behind Olga, “come this way, I have an old Steinway & Sons.” 

The piano was beautiful, situated in what looked to be a reading room. One wall covered in books, the other covered in paintings and photos, the main wall with big windows. It was like out of a movie. 

You sat down at the piano and started to play. It felt like only a few minutes had passed before Claudia and Olga came in for lunch. 

“What is that?” You pointed towards the weird cake looking thing on the table. 

“Tortilla.” Olga sat down, taking a drink and giving you a look to do the same. 

“It’s basically an omelette. Eggs, potatoes, oil, onion.  I have tomato sauce if you want it?” 

“Sure. Thanks.” It had the same texture as a normal omelette but it tasted better. It was heavier, thanks to the potatoes. Spanish food was mostly better than English, expect for the fish and chips. Nothing topped ours. 

No one spoke during lunch time, or while we cleaned up. 

“Have you heard from Alexia?” You asked Olga quietly. She shook her head, giving your shoulder a squeeze. You went back and sat at the piano, staying there until a very stressed Olga came in. 

The conversation between Alexia, Keira and Lucy was over and we needed to leave.

“After practice we need to talk please Keira. Lucia come too.” Alexia was firm but not unkind with her voice. 

From the moment Keira, Lucy and Alexia sat down, Keira was on edge, ready to defend whatever her little sister did. 

“Noah is with Olga, at Claudia’s house. She has said some things, I’ve noticed some things and no doubt Lucy too.” Alexia started, she didn’t want to come off aggressive or accuse her of anything. 

“What Alexia? What has Noah said?” 

“You know she’s plays piano? Draws very good too. Better than Mapi, better than anyone I’ve seen. She feels as though you, and your parents do not care about her, see her-“

“that’s ridiculous! We all care about her! She’s just a dramatic teenage.” 

“Keira.” Lucy saw it. She’s seen it from the beginning. Birthdays were missed in favour of Keira’s games, every time she spoke to the Walsh parents all they would talk about was Keira, never Noah. If she didn’t know Noah existed, there would be no trace. “She was going to music school in London. She’d catch the train, stay with Leah and come home. Your parents never noticed because they were never around. From an outsider, you wouldn’t know Noah existed to your parents, or really to you.” 

“What the hell are you saying Lucy? I talk about her, I care about her. I took her in didn’t I? She’s here because I took her instead of letting them ship her off to a boarding school!” Keira was defensive, she didn’t want to believe what both Alexia and Lucy were saying. 

“She’s given up a lot for you, because of you.” Alexia said. 

“I never asked her too!” 

“For fuck sake Kei. She’s a child. A child. She didn’t have a choice. You have been so consumed by your own life, your own relationships that you can’t even see it. She’s 16, yet she acts like an adult because that’s the only way people will take notice of her.” 

There was only silence that followed for the next few minutes. 

“I spoke to Leah, which for the record was hard because she speaks so fast and her accent is worse than yours, but I suggest you talk to her, then talk to Noah but don’t get defensive. Listen to what she has to say, really listen. Itll be hard to hear it but I think it’s needed.” Alexia stood up, squeezing Keira’s shoulder then leaving. Sending Olga a text to bring Noah home so Keira or Lucy could pick her up. 

“What the hell do I do Lucy?” 

“Do as capi said, talk to Leah, then listen to Noah.” 

“Have you known the entire time?” 

“No. I told you during the world cup what she told me, but I don’t think that was the full story.” 

“I just thought she didn’t want to be there, that she was missing her friends, her life, I didn’t realise it was something more.” 

Silence took over the trio, their drinks empty, minds full. 

“What do I do?” Keira asked. 

“Listen to her, don’t interrupt her or anything. Let her tell you how she’s been feeling and what’s been happening.” 

“Is she at your apartment?” 

“No she’s with Olga but I’ll message her to bring her back.” 

It didn’t take long for the trio to arrive at Alexia and Olga’s apartment, you were still beaming from happiness until Lucy and Keira walked in. It was a weird feeling, having a happy day seemingly ripped through your fingers when Keira said the simple words of ‘we need to talk.’ 

The drive back to Keira’s was rough. Everyone was anxious, no one said a word. The futile attempt to escape to your room the second you entered was halted by Lucy’s strong arms guiding you to the couch. 

“I want you to tell me everything. I will not talk, I will not make judgment or anything but I need to know Noah.” Keira said, she tried to be firm, but it came out more as a plea. 

“There’s nothing to tell.” 

“Don’t play dumb. You’re a completely different kid with Alexia and Olga, even with Leah. Why?” 

“Why?” You scoffed, “can’t you figure it out yourself?” 

“No because what I thought was that you were just a bad kid. I was told you were skipping school, sneaking out, doing drugs. But here, here you’re different so what gives?” 

“It wasn’t sneaking out or skipping school. Technically.” Keira gave you a look so you continued, “anytime I asked to go out, ma and dad would just say ‘do whatever, we won’t be home later’, blah blah blah. It wasn’t sneaking only ever sneaking out when they had friends over and needed to keep up appearances. As for the skipping school, I was enrolled in special music and art classes at the TAFE, then I’d go to London for classes on Saturday’s.” 

“And the drugs? Vapping?” 

“I tried weed once. That’s all I swear. I didn’t like the feeling so I didn’t do it again. The others did but I didn’t. And yeah I’ve vaped, not since I’ve been here though.” 

“Ma and dad never said anything about your music classes.“ 

“Yeah because they didn’t know, or care. I’m not sure but I didn’t want to find out.” 

“Why didn’t you come to me? You went to Leah, even Lucy but you wouldn’t come to me. Why Noah?” Keira was getting frustrated, she was hurt and confused. 

“how could I? You were here or busy with your life in Manchester. You said it yourself, you believed what they told you. Everything was always about you Keira, not me. I was always told not to both you because you were busy. Every year it got worse, missing birthdays, missing Christmas, missing art shows or recitals.” 

The tears that had formed in both yours and Keira’s eyes were now free flowing. Lucy was sat in the armchair, Narla curled up at her feet. She was there purely to keep the peace, to make sure both sides were heard. 

“My art is good. Really good. Olga paid me to make a drawing for Alexia, Jana has asked me to draw a photo of her and Jill in Amsterdam, so many people have paid me for commission art. I have thousands saved and I was planning on leaving as soon as I turned 18. I taught Leah how to play the piano, I’ve sold music sheets, done a Christmas concert at the London Music Hall. I get good grades, good enough that I can go to college in America if I want, but no one knows because no one cares.”

“I care.” Keira chocked back a sob, feeling a mixture of pride and guilt. Guilt for being so wrapped up in her own world that she forgot to include you in hers. “I care noodle. I’m so proud of you truly. I want to fix this. Fix it all. Please just tell me what I need to do.” 

“Don’t make me go back. Not to Manchester, if I have to go back I’ll stay in London or-“

“You’re not going back, Noah.” Lucy said firmly. Yes you were Keira’s sister, but for the majority of your life, Lucy was around. So to her, you were also her sister and she felt just as bad as Keira. “You’ll either stay here with Keira, or you can stay with me. Alexia and Olga would even take you too. Maybe we need to do a custody agreement between the four of us.” 

Before you had a chance to do anything, Keira launched herself into your body. Hugging you as tight as humanly possible. You’d give her the benefit of doubt, she didn’t know but it didn’t excuse anything. 

The relationship between you and your parents was less than good, but it didn’t really matter to you. You had your art and your music. No one could take that away from you. 

By winter break, things with Keira were better. Not perfect, but you were sisters so that was unlikely. Her plan was to go home to England for Christmas, however you didn’t want to. Alexia and Olga both agreed you’d come with them and with their help, Keira agreed. 

When Olga finally gifted the hand drawn photo to Alexia, there were a lot of tears. Alexia rugby tackled you to the ground, kissing all over your face while crying happy tears. Eli thanked you as well, in a much more gentle way. 

It was the first Christmas that things felt good. You weren’t around purely to keep up appearances, you didn’t have to hide away or force conversation with anyone. 

Maybe Spain was where you’d find a home, and a person to share that home with. 

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

[a-killer-obsession]

OKAY I DID IT, I FIGURED OUT THE LAYOUT

Disclaimer: it seems like the size of the ship changes every time we see it, but the newest eps vs wano seem pretty consistent so I went with that and used Wire's height for scale

Floor layouts under the cut ✂️

Edit: you can find clearer/more detailed versions here

Layout based on the 31 member crew that Oda confirmed. I also took in to account that a significant portion of the members are fucking massive, so everything is bigger which matches the scale it's drawn in. Floors are approx 5m high with 2m wide doors in most places, which makes sense when a good portion of the crew are 3m tall.

Sorry about my handwritting lmao I'm so tired but I have serious brainworms and couldn't sleep

The specifics:

Kid's Floor

Of course he has his own floor

Quarters include his own private dining space which I imagine would also include a workdesk, bedroom with king sized bed and probably a couch, walk in closet, and bathroom definitely large enough for a massive tub

Workshop also has bathroom entrance for when he's feelin lazy

Ladder space in the middle goes straight through, this is so crew going to the castle deck don't access his floor

Commander's floor

Heat, Wire and Killer have their own rooms and a private lounge just for them and Kid

Heat and Wire share a large bathroom, definitely big enough for normal bath

Heat and Killer have king sized beds, Wire's bed is almost as wide as a king but mostly it's made especially long

Small decking that runs the whole way around, unspoken rule that crew aren't allowed there since windows peer into commander's rooms

Killer could probably fit a drumkit in his room 👀

Cannon Deck

We get peeks of this in the anime and in Oda's notes but they're fuzzy so I just did my best

Made a mistake tho, cannon platform should be whole way around back like a U shape to account for 3 cannons facing backwards, total 9 cannons

Theoretically this is where the helm should be so uh that's where I put it

Screenshots make it look like they also store a lot of other weapons here

Main deck

Forecastle includes navigation room with bookcases, central table, and desk for paperwork

Forecastle also has infirmary with two longer than normal beds to account for larger crewmates, and a desk for crew doctor to keep notes

Door between nav and infirmary cos Kid is lazy

Kitchen and pantry. Given the rooms are 5m from floor to ceiling I imagine that pantry would have a small mezzanine accessed by a ladder to take advantage of vertical space (and would be a sick place to nap)

Galley/dining hall contains 3 bench style tables, seating 10 large crewmates each, with one extra fancy chair at the end of one for Kid

Lower deck

Did my best to do some math to figure out how many larger than normal beds were required and decided on 6 bunks for 12 larger crewmates

Additional rooms for average sized crewmates include 4 rooms with 2 bunks each, and one room with 1 bunk, making for a total of 30 beds below deck. That means, counting the commanders for the 31, there are currently 3 empty beds, so a few rooms aren't complete full

Probably looks like fuck all space but its actually significant for a ship living quarters

According to google you only need 1 toilet per 10 people and 1 shower per 40 but that seems like BS. Bathroom has 4 large, accessible sized toilets, 4 showers, long benches down the center and a long counter with plenty of space and mirrors for makeup, given how many crewmates wear it

Also, storage room. Could be converted to extra room for another bunk

Hold

Access via ladder

4 cells. No toilets, you get a bucket ✌️ tbh might not even have beds but there's room for em anyway

Desk in case they need to keep an eye on prisoners

3 storage rooms, but i think one of these would actually be a torture room. Probably the one by the desk.

Mechanisms for power and water are probably in one of these rooms as well as a lot of materials for ship repairs

Also of note

Crows nest is definitely big enough for a bench, definitely big enough for... activities. Not as big as the Sunny's though I dont think a gym would fit, I think it'd be more likely that gym equipment is kept on the cannon deck

Idk if the mizzenmast is supposed to go all the way through but that physically can't happen with where the helm needs to be based on screenshots so ✌️

Crows nests are definitely access via climbing nets

Please absolutely feel free to use this as a reference for fanfictions, but I'd appreciate a shout out if you do 💖

[hyunsvngs]

𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - lee minho x fem!reader

wc: 5.8k

cw: this is a piss fic, you have been warned - don't like don't read, established d/s dynamics in a relationship, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: your boyfriend has something he wants to try in bed. you didn't expect to like it so much.

a/n: like i said before this is a piss fic, if you don't like don't read! thank u to the sweet girl who commissioned this & thank u to my babies may and nessa for proofreading and also my ems <3 i was super nervous about this so i hope u like <3 smut warnings ofc under cut

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: PISS, established d/s dynamics, dom!minho, sub!reader, subspace, SERIOUSLY THERE’S PISS, face fucking, oral (m rec), very negotiated kink, minho calls reader a plethora of pet names, nipple play, one (1) face slap, minho’s condescending and MEAN, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, squirting, reader calls minho sir briefly, brief aftercare but more offscreen!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It’s always daunting when Minho gets like this. You know exactly what’s going to go down tonight - you’ve discussed it extensively. You always have to discuss it extensively. Minho is nothing if not a good dom, and there’s rules and regulations that you have to adhere to, even if he is your boyfriend.

It still catches you off guard. He paces across the room to your shared wardrobe, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and exposing his veiny forearms. You’re perched on the bed, the exact way he told you to be in your plain black underwear. The fresh sheets are a welcome coolness on your warm skin. You’re overheating in excitement. You can’t wait. 

He’s going to piss on you tonight. He’s going to piss on you tonight, or maybe even in you, he’d said - he wanted to make you well and truly messy. Just the way he liked you. He told you he’d be mean, maybe even meaner than normal, and you’d agreed to it all before climbing into his lap and begging him to take you on the flimsy dining table chair in your kitchen in all of your excitement. He had chuckled, brushing a hand over your head with a teasing little “you want it that bad, huh?”. He still fucked you, so your plan went as hoped.

“I want to talk to you about something before we start, jagi,” His voice is smooth, low in volume, yet you hear every word loudly. You nod in response, and he turns and blinks at you, slow and cat-like. Oh, yeah. You were forgetting yourself already.

You blush in embarrassment of how far gone you are already, and he smiles, soft and barely noticeable. Fond. “Yeah, Min?”

The blush only continues to spread when he finally, finally climbs onto the bed next to you. He’s still in his work clothes, shirt tight on his broad pecs and his trousers tight on his thighs. You try not to stare. You fail, and he chuckles, using two fingers to prop your chin up to look directly at his eyes.

“This scene is a little harder than the other ones we’ve done,” He looks at you. It would feel scrutinising, the way he’s sizing you up, but his eyes are so full of fondness you can’t feel perceived at all - only admired. “I’m a little worried you may fall into subspace. Do you know what that is?”

He’s using his dominant voice on you, you swear. The tone of voice that’s level, not quite monotone but very, very straightforward and firm. Almost strict. It makes you rub your thighs together in need. Your boyfriend is so sexy when he’s like this. 

A quick scratch to your chin has you blinking back into reality. Yes. “Yes, I do know what that is. I’ve never done that before though, have I? So I probably won’t now, and-”

“We don’t know that,” He’s firm when he cuts you off, but presses a kiss to your nose nonetheless. “I need to know if you’re okay with me continuing if I notice you getting all floaty, jagi. I won’t if you don’t want me to. This is all in your hands, yeah? You know you run this show.” 

He chuckles, lightening the mood, but he’s right. When Minho first introduced you to this, you realised very quickly that despite the dominant being physically in charge, it was definitely the submissive that held the reins. It’s hard giving yourself over to someone so viscerally - it’s a vulnerable state to be in, letting someone decide your limits and decide what’s best for you.

Despite that, you’d let Minho fuck you outside in six foot snow, so you were definitely down for being fucked in subspace.

“Yes. Yeah, I want you to- I think it’d be hot, I think,” You’re babbling already, and Minho smiles again, his teeth glinting in the low light of your lamp. “I think it would be hot if you carried on, and I was like- all fuzzy, and stuff. You know?”

It’s silent for a beat, and then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Cute. Remember I love you, jagi, okay?”

Oh. Oh, you were starting? He normally only said that before you started, and before you can question him, he’s pressing his mouth against yours firmer, harder. It’s messy, the way he dominates your mouth instantly and uses one hand to tangle in your hair, yanking your hair back. You whimper against his lips, and he bites your bottom lip in response, finally moving to press you down to the bed with him on top of you. He starts to trail kisses down your face and your neck, and you can't help but let out a small noise of excitement. Before you can beg him to leave his mark on you, he quickly moves back up to your lips and starts to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth in an act of possession. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer, feeling yourself getting a lot more than just worked up.

His chest is muscled, the slightly toned soft muscle that only makes sense on Minho. He’s not heavy on top of you, only a presence where he licks and sucks into your mouth until you’re leaking into your panties. He pulls away, his lips dropping to your neck, and you can’t be anything more than pliant the way you let him use your skin and mark you as his. You are his. Mentally, emotionally, physically - any way he wants you, you’ll let him.

“I love this body,” Minho groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Such a filthy fucking body. You’re gonna let me piss on it, aren’t you?”

You whine, loud and unabashed, and Minho chuckles. It’s a puff of air against the exposed column of your neck and your hips cant up, searching for friction. 

“Oh, you are,” His hand moves down to your bra, searching through the lace for your pebbled nipple. The lace is thin, pitch black and almost sheer, and a grin forms on his face when he manages to pinch your nipple meanly. “Look at how excited you are for it. Your nipples are so hard, are you that excited for my piss?”

You try to nod in response, but a quick slap against your cheek using his spare hand has you reeling to try and form words. You’re babbling before you can even think. “Y-Yes! Yes, Minho, I’m excited. I can’t wait, I wanna- I wan’ taste it, will you let me? Please?”

He hums in consideration, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your tits to him. He was right - your nipples are hard and pebbled, dusky against your flesh, and he ducks down to engulf one in his mouth. His lips are full, plush like pillows, and his tongue darts around your nipple in small kitten licks. Soft, wet, warm. Pliant. His.

Minho’s bunny teeth are quick to bite at the peak, and you whine, back arching up to get more of the painful pleasure. He coos at this, finger running over your areola once when he pulls back from your chest. He sits back on his haunches, fingers deftly making quick use of his belt. The way he pulls the belt from the loops on his trousers have you remembering all the times he’s whipped you with it, and your eyes go blurry. You’re staring directly at the extremely prominent bulge in his trousers as if you somehow have x-ray vision and can see his cock in all its glory already.

“I’m going to fuck your face,” He explains, pushing down the expensive branded boxers to his thighs. His thighs are thick, muscled from years of dance, and you nod at his words despite having your vision solely trained on the bulging muscles. You can’t even keep your attention there for long - his cock springs out, hard and flushed and so big, so thick in the tight ring he forms around the base. The veins look as though they could be practically throbbing beneath the skin with arousal. “I’ll fuck your face, and I’ll piss down your throat. Do you want that? Tell me.”

He’s asking you, and you can’t believe it. Of course you want it, but you respond anyway. “I want it. I want it so bad, Minho. How do you want me? On the floor, on my knees? Or do you-”

“On the floor,” He looks towards the ground, pleased with himself when you heed his commands immediately. You’re quick to dive off of the bed and sink to your knees on the floor, and Minho lets out a fond chuckle before standing in front of you, ever the image of dominance. The hardwood floor doesn’t save your knees, still feeling hard and uncomfortable, and the way the pain bites into your legs has you shifting even more. It turns you on, being used and treated like an object, and being put on the floor to suck cock doesn’t help any. You’re positively ruining your panties by now.

His trousers are pushed down to his ankles, the perfect juxtaposition of black, thick material against his milky skin. His shirt is rolled up just enough for you to see the bottom of his tummy, hairy and soft above his cock. You expect him to keep it on, but you watch in awe as he unbuttons his shirt quickly and throws it to the side. His chest is exposed to you then, all broad muscle and dusky pink nipples against his skin.

He pumps his shaft in his hand a few times for good measure, just barely a few inches from your face, and then he’s tapping the cockhead on your lips. “Open wide. C’mon, kitty cat.”

His tone is condescending, almost patronising, and you hold back a whine. When your lips fall apart, he’s pushing into your mouth before you can even process it. A blistering, feverish pace immediately takes over his hips, and his cockhead is ramming down your throat with only a slight bit of pain beneath all of the pleasure. You try to run your tongue over the tip, to trace the veins with the tip of your tongue, but it’s impossible. He’s using your mouth like he’d use your pussy, unabashed and downright mean.

“Take it,” he grunts, looking ever the ethereal being above you. If you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was an angel - no, a fallen angel, debauched and with black, wiry wings sprouting from his back. Sweat covers the top of his chest, shiny and wet, and his cockhead presses firmly into the back of your throat. Your eyes water with the intense ministrations on your throat, hands aching to reach out and grab onto Minho’s thighs. They stay securely on your own limbs, and Minho groans, his eyes staring down into yours.  “Fucking take it for me. Take my cock, dirty kitty. Don’t you dare fucking cry about it.”

You’d swear he was composed if it wasn’t for the way he was looking down at you. Minho’s mostly quiet in bed, only a few sparse noises, but the fire in his eyes is visible.

The sounds in the room are filthy. Your eyes are hazy already with the force that he’s rutting into your mouth, but when his hand goes into your hair, yanking with all of his might, you hear yourself whine between gags and you’re not even trying to. You’re floating, fuzzy where your boyfriend fucks his cockhead into your mouth - you can’t even consider what’s going on, not too out of it but out of it enough to question what’s actually happening around you. Is this what Minho was talking about before? Subspace?

“Oh, Jesus. Are you feeling fuzzy already, kitty?” He pulls his cock out, tapping the cockhead on your bottom lip. A string of drool attaches his cock back to your mouth and he groans in approval, feline eyes narrowing. “Went down so easy for me, huh? Do you think you can take a little more?”

You’re nodding then, subconsciously, but a slight smile on your face. You want more. You need more. You need his piss, wherever on your body that he deems acceptable - it’s like he’s marking you as his territory. It’s such a primitive act that gets you more than just hot under the collar. If he pisses on you, or in you, it’s as if he sees you as an object that’s beneath him, not worth anything more than his piss. 

“Good,” He muses, and then his hand is forming a tight ring around his length. It’s throbbing, long and thick where it protrudes from his groin with drops of pearlescent precum, and he presses it past your lips again with a small sigh. “I’ve gotta take a piss, kitty cat. I want you to swallow it all for me, and then you can have some milk in that pussy for being good. How’s that?”

You can’t reply, because he’s already bouncing your head on his shaft. He’s resorted to pulling you up and down on his shaft by your hair this time, not grinding his hips rhythmically into the hot, wet cavern you’ve provided. 

“You know, I really thought you’d say no to this,” How the fuck is his voice calm right now? “But then I realised that of course you’d be into it. My filthy little fucking urinal.”

You moan loudly around his shaft. Minho chuckles, and then he’s pulling back again, your throat abused and aching at the alleviation of pressure. His cockhead stays at the entrance of your mouth, and he drops a hand from your hair to pump it a few times, raising an eyebrow at you.

“It’s coming,” He warns. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my piss, filthy bitch?”

You moan, nodding, and when your tongue lolls out of your mouth, Minho lets out a loud groan. It’s primal, and you watch silently as he shakes his head and flutters his eyes closed to try and gain some control of himself. He runs his finger over the slit of his cockhead, and then he’s pushing the tip past your lips again and - oh. 

His piss begins leaking out of his tip, a slow and steady stream that tastes surprisingly a lot like you expected. It’s purely Minho, raw and unfiltered, and you whine and whimper and let him fill your mouth up with his piss. It feels filthy, your pussy positively dripping through your panties and onto the floor by now. The stream floods down your throat even as you continue to gulp it down greedily, and you allow your hands to finally find purchase on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle. He allows it, his hands both moving back to your hair to bob you on his tip just a little to get the rest of his piss out.

Minho pulls out of your mouth with a soft noise, his eyes staring down at you almost menacingly. You dip your tongue into his piss-slit once more, moaning at the remnants of the taste, and then you’re whining, loud and un-muffled. 

“Minho,” You say, voice high and needy. You feel as though you want to say so much, you want to beg so much, but nothing is coming out of your mouth. You’re so fucking turned on you feel like you could die. “P-Please. Please, please. I can’t, I can’t, please, please-”

He positively growls. You’re pulled up by two hands underneath your armpits and thrown onto the bed less than unceremoniously, his body sidling up next to you. He’s kicked his trousers off, you notice, body warm and firm next to you.

“Was it that good? Dirty little thing,” He hums, tongue licking one fat stripe up your neck. “C’mere. Let me taste it on you.”

Minho’s lips are firm against yours, and his hands are anything but gentle as he slides them down your body. It’s like he’s igniting you with electricity, every area of skin that he touches feeling warm and too sensitive. His lips trail down your neck, leaving another trail of fire behind them. You’re pliant, letting him pull you by your hair and your throat into his dominating, overwhelming kisses.

His fingers reach your panties, and his finger dips underneath the waistband. You gasp, holding your breath and wishing, praying that he’ll push his whole hand into your underwear, but he simply pulls his finger back with a small amused puff of air. 

“Hnnfg, Minho, Minho, please, I don’t, I can’t-“

Minho leans over you more then, his eyes dark and half-lidded when he stares into yours. His gaze is all-consuming, but there’s a slight hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “Jesus, kitty. Be quiet,” His voice is low, amused, until all signs of a smile drop from his face upon his fingers finally delving into your underwear. His forearm obscures your vision, muscled and veiny, but you can feel the way your wetness immediately drenches his fingertips. His eyes flicker from your face to your core in awe, lips slightly parted. “Fuckin- shit. Jagi, tell me this is a joke. You’re fucking drenched.”

You are. His fingers smear around in your wetness, spreading it all around your folds. He drags his middle and ring finger down to your hole, wet and sloppy, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You’re not sure you could talk even if you wanted to.

Minho simply smiles that toothy smile that you love, eyes crinkling. You’re confused - he’s being nice - until he’s shoving both fingers into you at once. It was a stretch you hadn't been prepared for, and you jolt with a squeal, hands going up to grip onto his forearm. 

“Do you remember what I said before, jagi?” He muses, fingers curling up into that spot that makes you whine. You do whine, legs thrashing around and toes curling against the sheets. “If you have any in there, I’m fucking having it. I want you to piss all over my cock before I fuck you with it, remember? I want you to treat you like the dirty little thing you are.”

You nod, brain still fuzzy and way too overwhelmed. Your pussy squelches loudly around his digits, and his spare hand wraps around your throat in a dangerous grip. It’s not too hard, but definitely there, and you whimper in approval. 

Your eyes roll back into your head at the pace he sets against your g-spot, and after a brief, tight squeeze, Minho removes his hand from your throat in favour of using two fingers on your clit along with his harsh fingering. His arm is curled underneath your waist in a position that must be painful to him, but you ignore it in favour of your own pleasure. 

You feel like you could scream, and you do let out some strangled noise that sounds nothing at all like you. Just when you think it can’t get any worse - or any better, actually - he slides another finger in, stretching you out with three of his digits. You’re dripping down onto his knuckles and you wail, starting to hump against his hand. You’re going to cum embarrassingly quickly.

“You better be fucking thinking of asking for permission, bitch,” Minho hisses in your ear. You moan in response, nodding. Of course you’ll ask. Something about your boyfriend just makes you want to be good. You want to obey him so he continues to give you such nice things. “You don’t make the decisions. I'm the one fucking that hole with my fingers right now, I'll be the one who says you can cum.”

His fingers thrust into you faster, if it was possible, and you thrash around. The movement brings Minho’s cock against your thigh, and you gasp at the realisation that he’s next to you, naked, in all his glory. Your fingernails still dig painfully into his forearm, but he doesn’t seem phased. “Minho, Minho- I’m gon’- please, please, please, I wanna cum, let me come, it hurts, I-“

“Oh, I know, I know. It just feels too good, doesn’t it? You can’t even fucking control yourself, writhing around like that,” He groans, eyes fixated on your face. You know your expression is screwed up in pleasure, eyes watering from the feeling of his fingers inside of you. His fingers begin to slide around on your clit rather than provide any direct pressure due to how wet you’re getting, but you still hump against the sensation with gratitude. You’d never have anything other than gratitude when Minho’s being so nice like this. “You’re behaving like a fucking whore. Beg me for it. Beg me to let a fucking whore like you cum all over my fingers, tell me how good it feels.”

He starts kissing up your neck again with the open-mouthed, wet movements, and you feel like you’re about to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more, and you can, you just have to will your brain to speak. “I-I love sir's fingers, fuck, I love when sir fingers me like this- fuck, sir I'm gonna- can't hold it- I, hnng, I can’t, I don’t- pleasepleaseplease-”

Minho pulls away from your neck with an alarmed little snort. “Sir? God, you are far gone,” He points out, but then he’s pinching your clit meanly with his fingers. It makes you hump his hand a little faster and whine a little louder. It’s quiet for a beat, and then he’s sighing as if he’s annoyed. You swear you catch him rolling his eyes through your blurry vision. “Okay, fine. Go on then, if you want to cum so badly. Cum.”

With one word, you feel like your whole world is falling apart. A gush of wetness bursts from you and all over the bed, probably soaking Minho too. Your ears are ringing and you can feel the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall, fat streaks of wetness painting your skin. His fingers don’t slow, but he’s groaning in your ear now, coaching you along. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing over your clit with a wet hand that only made you let out another gush everywhere. You were sure you'd screamed.

You wail and thrash through your orgasm, and then you’re panting, body dropping back onto the bed. You don’t register Minho groaning, licking his fingers clean - you only realise he’s moved when he’s on top of you, yanking your soaking wet underwear down your legs and finally unclasping your bra. Your hands go above your head, pliant and willing, letting him take control. You’re fucked dumb by now, anyway. You’d be no use.

“If you had all that in there for me, you have some piss in there,” He muses, and you whine, shaking your head.

“D’nt need to pee, Min,” You insist, head lolling back on the sheets. You’re pliant, and Minho grabs your chin with his hand, making you face him. His ears are burning a shade of delectable pink, the flush travelling over his chest and making him look almost embarrassed. You know this state of Minho all too well, though. He’s so horny he feels like he’s about to explode.

“You do,” He responds, quick as a flash. You whimper as he presses his cockhead into your folds, just barely teasing the ruddy, flushed tip at your hole. Your hands move to grip onto the sheets next to your head, and just when you’re sure he’s going to put it in, Minho leans down, and then his hand is pressing on the bottom of your stomach. You wail, shaking your head. Minho chuckles knowingly. “You need to piss, don’t you?”

You do. Embarrassingly quickly, just from him pressing on your bladder. “I- it’ll make a mess, Min, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I want it to make a fucking mess,” He scoffs, pressing harder. He continues to drag his cock through your sopping wet folds with his other hand, his feline eyes staring at you with a renewed fire burning behind them. He’s daring you to disobey. You would never disobey him. “I want everything you have to give me. Piss all over my cock. Do it.”

You clench your thighs, stomach tensing. It doesn’t take much, only a slight rubbing of Minho’s hand on your tummy and you’re pissing. The stream erupts from you in a messy spurt, and Minho groans, pumping his cock to coat it in your mess. You whine, trying to shift your hips to catch his cock inside of you, but the mess you’re making ensures that it’s too slippery to do so.

“Stay still, you’ll get it in a second,” Minho mumbles, hand tightening around the head of his cock. It’s substantially lubed now, but he still continues to pump it, hand easing up on your stomach. Something about it has your mouth watering, staring at his cock and wondering how it tastes. Maybe he’ll let you suck it clean next time, let you taste his cock mixed with your own piss. “That’s it, kitty. Get sir’s cock nice and wet with your piss. Dirty little thing.”

When the stream finally finishes, you shift against the sheets, soaking wet and definitely a lot more aroused than you were previously. There’s still only one thing on your mind. “Can- can I have it now, please, please?”

Minho nods, his cheeks blazing red. He’s losing his composure. “Yeah. God, yeah, kitty. You can have it, c’mere,” He sighs, finally pushing the head of his cock inside of you. It slides inside easily with the wetness of your pussy and the mess you’d made on him, his thick shaft stretching you out and making you moan out for him. You catch sight of Minho’s eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out noise leaving his lips. “Fuck, this is so fucking dirty. You’re filthy, letting me do this.”

No. You’re not, are you? Are you dirty? “Filthy?” You question, completely in bliss at the feeling of him finally inside you. You’ll be filthy if it means he’ll fuck you. Minho chuckles, and then his hips start to move, a sinuous grind against yours. The noises your pussy is making are beyond debauched, wet, slapping sounds from how soaking wet you are. You whine, bucking your hips up, and Minho lets you, gripping your hips to pull you off of the mattress.

“I’m gonna go harder, okay? I want you to take it for me, all of it,” His voice is close, leaning down to whisper it against the skin of your neck. You nod eagerly, and he pulls your thighs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. The change in position has his cock hitting you deeper and you gasp, fingers moving to grip on his biceps. He sits back slightly, pulling you closer to him, and then he’s pounding into you. With little to no buildup, you can’t help but squeal, your pussy gushing around his fat length. “You love this, don’t you? My cock, covered in your piss, stretching your little cunt out. You love being filthy for me.”

“Hhnnfg, hhng, Min, Min, Min, you made me pee, you-”

Minho scoffs, hand threading into your hair. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls, bent half over you while he pounds your pussy into oblivion. “Don’t make stupid fucking excuses for yourself. I can see it in your eyes, you love being like this for me.” 

You whine, tears brimming in your eyes again uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but just lay there, pliant and gripping onto his biceps for him to stretch your pussy out with his veiny fucking cock. It feels almost too good, too overwhelming. The ridges of his shaft are pressing against your walls, causing a delectable friction that has you clenching down on every outwards motion from him. It’s as if your pussy doesn’t want him to leave, and you don’t want him to leave, pulling him close by his arms every time he thrusts inside of you. 

Minho pushes your thighs apart, and then he’s bending you into a sort of mating press. Your legs rest on his upper biceps and his body folds you in half for him, making you whine at the stretch on your muscles. You’re loud, embarrassingly so, little “ah, ah, ah”’s leaving your mouth with every thrust. The change in position allows him to hit your cervix with his length, long and throbbing inside of you, and you’re only louder and more pathetic for him. 

“Can you hear that, kitty cat?” He whispers, and you hold your breath. Once you’ve stopped making so much noise, you can hear it - the sound of your pussy is even louder, wet and messy and when you look down, his cock is soaking with you. With your piss or your slick, you’re not sure, but it has you clenching down deliciously anyway. “I’m fucking your own piss into you, and you’re whining like a little bitch.”

You can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. Your previous slight fuzziness has morphed into full blown floating, and you think you’re crying, but you’re not sure. All you can hear is your own noises, loud and desperate while he ensures your pussy never forgets the shape of his cock. “Ah, ah, I don’t- sir, I don’t, I can’t, I don’t know- ah, oh, I can’t-”

“Ah, fucking hell,” Minho hisses, gritting his teeth. You watch in disappointment as he pulls his cock out of you, forming a tight ring around the base with his fingers. “I need to cum inside you. I need to give you your milk, kitty cat, c’mon. Flip over for me.” 

He tells you to do it, but helps you anyway. You feel his hands go to your hips to flip you over, and then you’re face down, and some part of you finds the strength to push your hips up to present your pussy for him. But, milk? You’ve been good enough for that?

He sinks back inside you, his cock slick and fat and too much for your little pussy. “There you go, jagi. Biiig stretch, feel it,” He moans, and you push your hips back on him easily. In this position, your lips are parted and you can feel yourself drooling up a puddle on the sheets. It adds to the mess, filthy with piss and slick and sweat, and you want Minho to lick it all up and spit it in your mouth. He immediately resumes his punishing pace, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust and hitting that delicious spot inside you so well. “Fuckin’ tight pussy, ah, it’s so good.” 

“H- haa, Minho, have I been good?” You question, eyes blurry and bottom lip slick with your own spit. Minho groans, deep and loud, reverberating through your whole body. He knows you need reassurance, and he nods, a little smile on his face despite his lust-filled, half-lidded eyes.

“You’ve been so good. So good I’m giving you my cum, yeah? Gonna breed that little pussy, filled it with your piss already, needs my cum now,” He’s babbling, which is a sure sign that he’s close - but you can’t even fathom it in your state. “Little girl, kitty cat, so good for me, c’mere.”

You don’t move, but Minho slinks one hand around your hip to rub at your clit. The added pleasure has you jolting with a whine, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air at your reaction. His fingers slide around your clit wet and imprecise, but it’s enough to have you hurtling towards your second orgasm. His cockhead slams against your g-spot, bordering on painful, but the sensation only adds to the throes of bliss he has you tumbling through.

“Min, Min, Min, it’s- ‘s so good, so good, so big, so- Min, Min, I g’ta-”

“You can cum whenever, jagi. Give it to me, I want it,” His voice is higher, more desperate, and you nod eagerly. He sidles over your back, his sweaty chest pressed to your skin, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours.

It’s less of a kiss and more of a messy exchange of spit and breathing into each other's mouths. Minho’s tongue slides against yours as he continues to rub messy circles around your clit, and before you know it, you’re cumming around his cock with a sharp gasp of pleasure against his lips. He swallows your noises, finally engulfing your mouth with his, and you moan and sigh freely through gushing all over his length, the electric feeling making your toes curl.

Minho envelops your hair tightly with his spare hand, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his climax. With a broken whine, you feel his cum fill you up, thick and hot and heavy.

He flops on top of you with a sigh, his body weight a welcome presence for you. You ignore the feeling of the sheets beneath you in favour of closing your eyes and humming contentedly. You’re still floating, but it’s calmer now, softer. It feels like you’re on a cloud. “So good, Min.” 

“Yeah?” Minho grins, his hand now stroking softly through your hair in favour of yanking on it. “You did so good for me, jagi. You were so, so good, made me cum so hard.”

“You made me cum hard, too,” You respond, opening one eye to see his face over your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed, hair sweaty and floppy over his eyes, but he has a blissed out smile on his face. When he catches sight of you looking at him, he smiles, and the sight of his bunny teeth has your heart singing. How can he look so cute after fucking you like that? Before you can say anything else, you yawn, and Minho giggles. “‘M sleepy.”

“Bath first, jagi,” He coos, kissing your hairline. “My sweet girl. Let’s get you nice and clean and then we’ll nap.”

“Mm, okay,” Minho hops off of you and you stretch out leisurely like a cat, your body sticky and defiled. You hear him tinkering around the room behind you, humming a tune to himself, and you smile fondly. “Love you, Min.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

[fadingdaggerr]

hiii! can you write mel x reader where reader is a baseball player that's why melissa's no. 1 choice of melee weapon is a baseball bat l

also, i looooove your writing style. i love details sm, i feel like the readers can connect more with what they're reading that way. and happy holidazee!!

strike and sink

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! | 4.3k

includes: r has some anger issues, author clearly never did team sports

warnings: touch of violence, kissing/making out

note: i genuinely know NILCH about baseball. i was a competitive fighter this is not my strong suit okay. everyone hold hands, we’re gonna pretend any of this makes sense together.

The slowly warming spring air was a relief of the bitter winter that plagued the city for months. The ice is gone, grey skies clearly to the scenic blue, the streets becoming more active as people pull themselves out of a small hibernation. It’s invigorating for Melissa, practically skipping towards the main door of work, happy to not have the chill making her knees stiff.

The morning had given her too much pep, noticeable even to her as she tries to fight a smile that won’t quit. Part of the day's comfort seems to radiate off of her. From her warm bed, to the warm shower, to the warm body that joined her, now in the warm air around her. A sheer joy and excitement stay around Melissa as she treks through the halls of Abbott.

After dropping her things off in her classroom, she makes her way towards the lounge to find Barbara and the rest. Pushing through the door, she hears Janine and Jacob talking about something she has no interest in, Barbara off towards the television to gaze at Jim Gardener.

Melissa feels like Coke and Mentos as she pours herself a cup of coffee, trying to get her routine out the way before she snaps. When the morning update ends, and her other half reunites with her at the table, her resolve cracks.

Turning in her chair to address the room, she asks, “who’s got plans Saturday?”

“Well me and Gregory were go-” Janine begins.

“Cancel it!” Melissa says, pointing at her grade partner with a smile, “we’re going to a baseball game.”

“The Phillies?! I didn’t think they were playing this weekend?” Jacob guffaws.

Melissa’s face pinches up briefly, “no, dingbat. It’s a minor league game. Got some free tickets to spare and I’m feeling charitable.”

The younger teachers, to their credit, hide their confusion at Melissa’s excited offer. Never once did they imagine that she would care for minor league anything, but free is free. The three nod together in excitement, knowing better than to question anything. The grin on Melissa’s face makes it even more worth it to them, not used to that level of outward happiness.

“I’m in! But you’re buying me a corndog, Schemmenti!” Ava announces over the intercom, making everyone roll their eyes in time with their amused grins.

Barbara looks at the lingering smile on her friend’s face, letting out a low, knowing hum at the expression. Green eyes snap her way with a squint, silently telling her to not say anything. The kindergarten teacher just raises her hands in surrender, shaking her head with a playful look.

Taking her suspicious look back, Melissa brings her attention to her phone. Propping her glasses on her nose, she opens her texts.

Gonna need 6 tickets at the booth.

Your reply comes quickly, as if you already knew what she’d say.

Amore: already there. under “sexiest woman alive and co.”

You’re an idiot.

Amore: and yet you beg for me. a conundrum, truly

Melissa rolls her eyes, swiping her hand over her face as she tries to hide the schoolgirl smile stretching across her face. Answering will only encourage you further, and she will be damned if she’s caught blushing like a tomato over a silly text. Instead, she brings herself back into the conversation for the rest of the school week. Though with every blink, she pictures you.

—☽—

Not wanting to be stuck in the car with everyone for even fifteen minutes, Melissa only picks up Barbara, having everyone else meet her at the stadium. It pains her to not wear the spare jersey from the back of your shared closet, opting for a shirt with the same orange as the team’s color. Barbara settles for her only orange necklace, one she never wears, but will in order to entertain her best friend.

The redhead’s eagerness is infectious, finally happy to see you back on the field for the first time all season. She was bitter when practice started, only able to go to a few of them before the coaches closed the practices to get focused and avoid distraction, which felt targeted towards her even if it wasn’t. At this point, she just wanted to see you in those pants. God, those pants.

“How well do you think you’re going to control yourself?” Barbara asks. Melissa peaks over briefly, giving her friend a questioning gaze. The woman sighs, “presumably, you don’t want the kids in your business. And do you really think they’re not gonna notice your ogling?”

“I’m just hoping they mind the game and not my business,” Melissa grumbles truthfully, having not really thought about how attention could fall on her.

Barbara gives a slow nod, “ah, yes. Because they’re all well known for minding their business.” Melissa huffs at the sarcasm, but sequesters herself to silence.

Pulling up to the stadium, she pulls in next to Janine’s car, seeing Jacob and Janine excitedly waving as Gregory gives a smaller one. Stepping out, everyone talks as they wait for Ava to arrive, knowing her tendency to arrive fashionably late. Once she does, everyone is shocked to see the principal step out wearing a jersey for the team.

Her hands fly up in confusion, eyes landing on Melissa, “you invite us to this and I’m the only one to show out? Are you trying to make me look like a nerd, Schemmenti?”

“Last week you explained the sociopolitical commentary of Star Trek to me. You don't need help looking like a dork.”

This silences Ava long enough for Melissa and Barbara to corral everyone to the entrance. At the ticket stand, she gives her name, crossing her fingers that you were just joking. Six tickets are placed in front of her, immediately grabbing them to lead the group to her usual spot. Second row at the home dugouts, she ushers everyone in, Barbara to her left, Ava to her right. Before she can even speak, the redhead passes Ava a five, “get your own damn corndog.”

As the seats fill in around her, Melissa is practically vibrating. The loudness around her is oddly comforting, hearing everyone’s excitement. Peeking every few seconds, she hopes to catch the teams entering the dugouts. She wants to check her phone to see if she has a message from you, but she knows you’re too in your head to even acknowledge your phone’s existence. Her persistent watching is broken by Jacob leaning over Ava’s empty seat.

“How did you even get these seats? They’re like the best ones!”

Melissa’s brows raise, trying her best not to sputter, “I know a guy.” A glint of nonbelief goes over Jacob’s face, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he retracts back to Janine’s side, sparing one last analyzing gaze at Melissa before going back to the conversation.

“You’re screwed,” Barbara mumbles, fixing her sunglasses.

“I’m screwed,” Melissa parrots, but leans forward in her seat to be as close to the field as she can manage.

—☽—

Ava shimmies into the seat just as the teams pour onto the field, but Melissa’s attention doesn’t divert once. Her eyes scan to find where you are, finding a familiar figure shifting weight from foot to foot. You seem to know eyes are on you, stilling for a second as you look around. A little grin grows on your face as you finally catch the sight of familiar red hair in the crowd, but you keep yourself from drawing attention to her with your usual blown kiss. You instead settle on tapping your toes into the grass three times.

The teams take their places, and you settle yourself on the second base, fiddling with the velcro of your glove as you wait for the game to start. Your opponents, the Blue Foxes, were well known in the league for their cutthroat playing style. For the last three years, they had remained undefeated, and all thanks to their pitcher. Castille was known as a sharpshooter for their pitching accuracy, and your team had been practicing even harder just for this.

Their first batter strikes out, the second only gets to second base, the third is out before they run it to first. You can see your coach to a hard clap from the dugout, clearly pleased that nothing had been scored yet. The second inning plays out similarly, though Castille strikes out two of your batters easily, and is clearly angered when another makes it to third.

As another inning begins, you refuse to rip your eyes away from the ball. Risking a blink is not in the cards. The Fox batter, Morgan, slams hard, the ball flying out into the grass. Your centerfield scrambles for it, throwing it to you before Uwey makes it to your base. Screaming in the stands only propels you, jumping with all your might to get it from the air, planting yourself on the base as Uwey slides in.

“Fucker!” He yells at you, though a grin crawls on his face as you offer your arm to get him up. “I was betting against that, leapfrog.”

“Oops,” you joke, giving him a pat on the shoulder as the umpire declares that he’s out.

Tension between the teams rises quickly during the break, feeling the staredown as you chug water. You make an effort to not look back, but you can feel it regardless of where you divert your attention.

“We feeling oh-and-oh?” Jackson asks you, wiping sweat from her brow before putting her cap back on.

You flex your glove hand, trying to work out tension, “if we’re lucky. I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself today.”

“Your girl here?”

You can’t hide the smile on your face, “yeah. And she brought some people, so it’s our ego now.”

Back on the field in the sixth inning, all the niceties between everyone stop quickly. There’s no help up from the ground, no compliments for good plays. There is only icy eye contact, especially with every fastball that Castille sends to your batters. You practically cackled when Jackson made it to second off one of them, watching her wave crazily to her dad in the crowd.

Peeking behind you, you catch a glimpse of Melissa in the stands, watching her clearly explain what’s going on to Barbara. From your spot, she can’t see you, which is likely the only reason her eyes are not glued to the diamond. There’s a confidence in her place here, knowing it well and knowing your team, she almost has an authority about her.

The coach waves you down, letting you know you’re up to bat next. Next quickly becomes now as Castille strikes out Ismat. The sickly grin on their face makes you nervous, but you force yourself to steel up. Your name echoes through the speakers, announcing your approach to the plate. Gripping the bat, you tap against the plate three times before raising the bat, giving it a slight twirl as you nod.

Melissa’s focus stays on you, watching the bat tap one-two-three. Softly against her thigh, her hand copies the pattern. Leaning forward slightly more, she watches with rapt attention.

The first pitch flies past you at breakneck speeds, strike one. You adjust your grip, eyes not faltering as you eye up Castille, nodding again. This time, you swing, hearing the solid thwack of the ball against the bat. Immediately you take off, keeping your focus on the first base, expecting the shadow of the ball to fly overhead.

Turning as you slide in, you see the ball go towards Jackson. Not the baseman at third, but Jackson. A sickening cry follows, a gloved hand rising to hold the side of her face. Beside her in the dirt is the ball. It takes no time for you to deduce who had done it, only one person could hit someone running that fast. How the ball got to them, you have no idea. All you know is that Castille did it.

The umpire calls a timeout. The moment he does, you’re sprinting across the field to Jackson. You shove everyone out of the way, crouching down to her level.

“Still with us? Got your facilities?” You ask, more concerned sounding than you intended.

She nods weakly, gripping your arm to use it as leverage to get up. The Foxes gather around, checking on her too, all except Castille. Once Jackson is up, you immediately turn, stalking towards the pitchers’ mound.

“The fuck is your problem?!”

The echo of your voice reaches the stands, everyone leaning forward in their seats. Melissa goes to rise immediately, face serious and hands clenched, but Barbara grips her arm to keep her in place. The anger coming off of her seems to clue in the others, who all watch the scene with equal curiosity.

Your teammates quickly run up, one trying to pull you back a bit. All you notice is the bat in his hands, immediately ripping it from his grip with a harsh tug. Still, you keep it pointed down, simply a not-so-subtle threat.

“It was an accident. No need to get pissy,” Castille says, stepping into your space. “Just a little baseball, everyone gets hurt.”

“Everyone’s about to include you, fucknut,” you twirl the bat in your hand, raising it ever so slightly.

With a sly grin, a hand stiffly pushes you back, “shit happens, let it go. Why don’t you go play nurse now that your shortstop is out of commision.”

You mock the laugh they let out at their own comment, bat coming up in a full swing. Just as Castille’s eyes widen, you feel a hand grip the end of the bat, stopping you in your place. Turning back, Morgan only shakes his head, silently asking what the fuck you are doing. Your eyes dart back to the pitcher in front of you, a little terror hidden on their face. It placates you enough to hear the coach calling you over to the dugout, no doubt for a scolding. Dropping your arm, you trudge over, shoulder checking everyone as you go.

Melissa’s unblinking eyes never leave you until you disappear into the dugout. She watches the bat fly from your hand into the hard wood of a stadium with a sharp crash. Green eyes stay on you as you rip the hat from your head, smashing it to the dirt as you walk. Barbara keeps her in place still, feeling the way her friend is practically shaking with anger, as if she feels what you are feeling. Unbeknownst to Melissa, the others are scanning over her, silent questions on their faces that they cannot voice now without facing wrath. Ava peers over to Barbara, eyebrows raising in amusement. The response she receives is a subtle eye roll.

“Holy shi-” Ava starts excitedly, but is silenced by Melissa’s hand flying out to try and cover her mouth.

Tuning in, the redhead tries to make out what the coach yells at you. The man is clear is not trying to hide his displeasure. “Are you nuts?... Could have killed them… Don’t care what hap- stop interrupting me!”

Staring up at your coach, you practically pout in your spot, “they fucking fastballed Aliyah to the face and I’m getting shit?! They’re still on the field!”

“It was an accident,” he tries to reason.

“Sharpshooter missed that hard? Bull-fucking-shit man!” You shout as you stand, crossing your arms with an air of defiance.

Your coach takes a deep breath, staring you down. “Locker rooms. Now,” he says with no room for anything else. If you speak again, you won’t touch a bat or glove for weeks. Rolling your eyes with a huff, you head to the stairs.

From where she is sitting, Melissa cannot see where you are, or rather, where you went. Her frantic eyes scan the field, but from Barb’s grip, she is not even able to try and get a better view. Eyeing the field, she sees the coach round the dugout and approach the fence. He waves at her, motioning her to talk to him.

Melissa immediately shakes herself free from Barbara’s hold and flies down the wobbling stairs. Bracing herself on the fence, she asks, “what the hell, Marty?”

“I put the walking liability in timeout in the locker room,” he said with a fading annoyance. “That shit can’t happen on my field.”

Melissa frowns, “that jackass nailed Aliyah on purpose, come on.”

“We all know that. Now, can you just help me out here?”

Rolling her eyes, Melissa trudges down to the gate, letting herself onto the field to go the quick way.

“Oh, word?” Ava says, looking towards Barbara. Gregory looks at her with confusion. Motioning at the field, then Melissa’s disappearing figure, the gears finally begin to turn.

“Word,” Barbara says with a flat tone, picking up her phone to text Gerald.

—☽—

Laying down on the bench, you stare at the popcorn ceiling in hopes to calm yourself down. The cool wood is a balm to your sweaty back, freezing out the fire in your veins. Anger sloughs off the longer you lay there. Your vision blurs as you fight hot tears, acidic with your anger. You know better than to react like that, especially so publicly. Shame crawls up your spine, knowing Melissa’s friends saw you like that, that Melissa saw you like that.

The door to the locker room opens, the slam of the door being followed by heeled footsteps quickly approaching. Sitting up, you’re met with Melissa’s frown.

“Hi,” you say, offering a weak smile.

A single brow raises, “hi? That’s what you’ve got for me?”

“My bad? Whoops?” You shrug, knowing that there was no saying you hadn’t had the intention of bludgeoning Castille. Your eyes drag away from her face to fully look at her for the first time since you left this morning. The smile on your face stretches, “you look beautiful.”

Melissa gives a silent laugh, and you revel in the way her eyes close and she ducks her head. Even after two years, she still gets all shy when you compliment her. Stepping closer, she plants herself between your legs, “maybe next time, fail in beating up someone off the field.”

“Wouldn’t’ve failed if Charlie didn’t cut in,” you mumble, hands rising to hold the back of Melissa’s thighs. Leaning forward, you bury your face against her stomach. Any and all lingering tension in your body disappears when her hands come to your back, scratching up and down slowly. “Sorry I embarrassed you,” you whisper against her.

Bending over you, she presses a kiss to your head, “how’d you do that?”

“Attempted assault and battery.”

“It’s a Saturday night in Philly, amore. That’s just business,” she jokes, but the meaning isn’t lost on you.

Melissa stays right there until the game ends, the buzzer ringing loudly. Pulling back from her, you nod towards the door, wordlessly telling her to go before the team comes in. Pressing a kiss to your sweat-dried hairline, she walks out, but not before sending a look back to you that makes you shiver.

True to your silent word, as the team pours in with the look of defeat written on their faces, you duck into the furthest shower stall. With grime gone and body dry, you tug one of Melissa’s sweatshirts over your body and slide into the softest sweatpants Amazon can deliver. Returning to your locker, you start shoving everything into your bag, not taking the time to fold or organize anything. Spinning on your heel, you try to leave, but your coach steps in front of you.

“I know,” you say. “Head on my shoulders, use it. Bat as a weapon, don’t use it.”

“You cracked it,” Marty says with exasperation, shoving the bat from earlier into your hands. “What’s this? Number seven now?”

“Five,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes. Tucking the bat under your arm, you shuffle past him. With your head down, you leave, trying to hide your face from the other team as people move in and out of their locker room. Moving through the maze of people, you try to find your girlfriend at your normal meeting spot outside the stadium.

In a circle, the Abbott group debriefs under the streetlight. The yellow light illuminates fiery red hair, drawing you in quicker. Hearing your steps approach, she turns in your direction, and arm outstretched in invitation to tuck yourself into her side. The group, except Barbara and Ava, look stunned at your arrival, scanning over you and the arm around your shoulders. A dual ooooh passes the lips of Janine and Jacob, Gregory only giving a slow nod after thinking about what Ava pointed out earlier.

“Got something for you,” you say quietly to Melissa, feeling a tad exposed knowing they all watched your outburst earlier. A single brow props up in question. From under your other arm, you pull out the cracked bat.

“Don’t swing, slugger!” Ava jokes, putting her hands out in mock self-defense. You can't really hide the embarrassed look that flashes across your face.

“Ignore her,” Melissa says, grabbing the bat from your hands, toying with it in her grasp. Her nail runs along a thin, long split in the wood, looking back at you. “Can never bring me a not fucked up one, can you?”

“I prefer to call it a signature,” you offer. Melissa shakes her head with a silent laugh, arm tightening to pull you into a one-armed hug.

The night ends with a reluctant promise from Melissa to invite everyone over for dinner to properly meet you, and a genuine promise of tickets to any home game from you. Ava sends Melissa a double thumbs up, gesturing towards you as she mouths nice. Walking with Melissa and Barbara to the car, all the energy in your body is practically melting away. Gameday jitters and the anger you felt earlier had kept you awake, but now all you want is your bed with your girlfriend wrapped around you.

In order to be polite, you sit in the back to let Barbara sit in the passenger seat. Before Melissa even turns onto Barbara’s street, you’re dead to the world in the backseat with your cap covering your face. If your snores disturbed their conversations, they never said a word.

—☽—

The soft feeling of pressure going up and down your shin wakes you from your slumber. Sliding the cap off your face, you peek towards Melissa, sitting in the backseat now with your legs in her lap. Blinking quickly, you sit up, wordlessly agreeing to go inside, still silent with lingering sleep.

Melissa grabs your bag for you, letting you trudge up the steps to the front door and fidget with the lock. Once inside, you shove your shoes off and flop onto the couch. Dropping your bag by the door, Melissa settles next to you. Resting her head against the back of the couch to match your position, she looks in your direction.

The second she does, you’re leaning to tuck yourself into her side. With your head on her shoulder, you mumble, “can put it in the kitchen.” At her questioning hum, you elaborate, “the bat- wait we have knives. Laundry room.”

Melissa chuckles at the sureness in your tired voice, pressing her lips to the crown of your head. The feeling makes you shiver, immediately sitting up, so close to her that your noses brush. The newfound closeness makes the corners of her lips curl up, creases around her eyes deeping as you just stare at her in subtle awe. Slow blinking eyes rake over your face, just as carefree in their indulgence as your own gaze.

It becomes impossible to hold back, leaning into her the second her eyes find yours again. Soft lips brush against yours, and you push into her, kissing her with all the love fizzing in your chest. Her hand slides from around your shoulders to cup your neck, keeping you close as you shift to straddle her lap. With the gentlest touch, you cup her face, thumbs sliding over the apples of her cheeks.

Manicured nails dig into your neck slightly, making you whine against Melissa’s lips. Shuffling on your knees, you desperately try to press harder into her, wanting to be as close as close can get. The feeling of her tongue passing over yours is enough to make you shift your grip to her hair, tugging just enough to make a groan crawl from the back of her throat.

Part of you panics, trying to pull back to make sure you weren’t rougher than you intended. Melissa doesn’t let you get far, leaning in quicker than you back away, drawing you back in. Nipping at your lip, she finally lets you go, only to make you pout.

“Don’t start with me,” she jokes quietly, trying not to break the small bubble of comfort. “You go upstairs and change, I’ll warm up some leftovers.”

You sigh, pressing your forehead to hers, “five more minutes?”

A little grin plays at her lips as she presses a kiss to your cheek, letting you drop your forehead to her shoulder and relax your weight against her. A mumble of I love you vibrates against her neck, a soft kiss placed on warm skin.

Five minutes wouldn’t be so bad. And neither is the thirty minutes that it turns into, with you knocked out on top of her with a hand still buried in her red locks.

note: no longer the holidays but i hope yall had a good season!! in between my last fic and now i graduated college, so i would call mine a general success on that front <3

feedback appreciated as always, my sweet babies <3

[nfr-girly]

You and Hasan separated and co-parent, but he still loves you // Hasan x reader

Summary: Hasan wants to convince you to give him a chance again

border by: @enchanthings-a

*this is a pt 2 but can be read on own* part 1

You set up the table as you wait for Hasan to arrive, you know what you two will have to talk about eventually but you don’t think about it

you hear fast footsteps running before a force is collided into your legs almost knocking you over

“Oof! Baby calm down” you pick up Theo and he giggles

“When is baba coming?”

“soon baby he’s bringing Kaya too!” He gasps in excitement before jumping down to go watch tv

half an hour goes by and all the food is prepared, you sit on the sofa with theo when you hear the doorbell ring

“BABA!!!” Theo bolts toward the door and tries to open it but is to short to reach, you chuckle and go to open the door.

you open it to Hasan, all dressed up with Kaya next to him, Kaya runs into the house before you can say hello

“BABA!!” Theo jumps up and down as Hasan picks him up, trying not to have his eardrum burst

“Hey big guy how are you? I missed you”

Theo starts rambling on about stuff, Hasan listens and chimes in now and then, but you don’t miss his glances at you

“Baby give baba a minute okay?” You laugh as he runs back into the house

You turn to Hasan to find him already looking at you

“Hi”

“Hey”

You two are silent for a second before you invite him in, he hangs up his coat before you lead him to the living room

“It’s really nice to have you here, i didn’t cook anything fancy we only planned this yesterday so..”

“Hey it’s okay, I miss your cooking anyway, you were always better than me” he chuckles

You two sit with Theo for a few minutes before heading to the table to eat

“I’ve prepared a special meal for Kaya too, I remember all her favourites”

“You’re kidding, after this she’ll love you more than me”

“That’s what I aimed for” you smile

Hasan helps Theo get on his chair as you hand the plates of pasta out

“Tell me this is with your homemade sauce because I could die for it” Hasan says

“It iss so you better like it” you joke

“You need to give me the recipe, you kind of owe me”

“For what?”

“Well I gave you a baby!”

“What so the morning sickness everyday for 9 months wasn’t enough?”

Hasan shuts up.

You all sit at the table and begin dinner

Theo talks about his time at school, speaking twice as fast so none of you could keep up

When you and Hasan can get a word in, you talk about small things that have happened in your lives, you didn’t realise how much there was that you hadn’t told Hasan. 4 years ago you two told each-other everything

Dinner flows by, and it feels like nothings changed. It feels like the dinners you would get before Theo could even talk, before all the arguments you and Hasan would have, before Theo had to go live with your mom so he wouldn’t hear the things you two said

You and Hasan never liked to talk about what happened, right now you two were friends and it felt better to stay that way.

You all finish dinner and Hasan helps you tidy up, Theo is worn out so you take him to bed

He gets changed and you tuck him into bed

“mama, is baba gonna stay?” You’re taken back slightly by his question

“No baby he has to go home soon”

“Whyyy I don’t want him to go, can he read me a story?”

“Let me ask him okay?” You go downstairs and ask Hasan, to which he agrees and you both go upstairs

“Hey bud, what do ya wanna read?”

“This!!” He pulls out a book and Hasan cosies up next to him

You’re about to leave when Hasan says “you coming mama?”

You think for a second before joining them, Theo lies in between you and Hasan

He begins reading softly to him, making sure to take his time. Near the end Theo starts snoring so you both know he’s asleep.

Hasan smiles and puts away the book, you both gently get out of bed and head downstairs

“I haven’t read to him in ages” he says

“I know, you should come over more often”

Hasan looks at you, longer than he wanted to

“So uh, are you and Kaya headed back home?”

hasan stops, “well, I was hoping we could talk about what I said yesterday”

Your breath catches in your throat - you were really hoping he’d forget

“I know that you don’t like talking about it, which is fine because I have a lot to say. I know that you and me didn’t work out, and I know that it was really bad last time. Believe me I’ve been scared myself, I don’t want that for Theo again”

“But it’s been 4 years, you and me worked it out, we broke up, we worked on ourselves and became friends again. And I’m happy we did that. But as soon as we both got happy again I felt so fucking miserable. Because I didn’t have the love of my life by my side which by the way you are, that’s never going to change. I just want us to be a family again, me, you, Theo and Kaya. so just please give me a chance, and if it doesn’t work out again then I’ll never say anything more about it.”

By now you’re tearing up, you have a million thoughts in your head and you don’t know which one to focus one

“Hey hey” he steps towards you, wiping your eyes

“Don’t cry okay? Please I hate seeing you upset”

“I’m not upset it’s just.. I’m so scared Hasan, Theo’s only just gotten used to the fact his parents aren’t together, but I know he still remembers our fighting. I just know, and I don’t want to put him through that now that he’s older”

Hasan takes in your words, he knows there’s a bigger risk than he realises but his need for you grows stronger

“I promise you, that I’m not going to let this ruin us, we’re better now, we’ve worked on ourselves. Nothings gonna change the fact that you’re the one for me, and I know you still love me.”

“Just tell me if you want to try again, I’m not going to force you but I don’t want you saying no just because you’re scared” Hasan pleads

You look up at him, you know you want to try again, and as much as you want to say no, you can’t help but wonder how things will end up if you try

“Okay” you nod

Hasan is taken back, “what?”

“Okay, we can try this out”

Hasan takes a moment before he smiles

“Really baby you mean it?”

You laugh slightly, “yes I mean it, but I want to take this slow, no rushing into things”

Hasan agrees, before thinking

“I know that you just said we can’t rush into things, but I really wanna fucking kiss you right now so can you give me that?”

You laugh and nod, Hasan doesn’t give it a second before he pulls you in and connects your lips to his

He holds your waist as you hold his face, all the worries you held wash away because all you care about now is him.

————————————————————————

guys call me shakespeare I wrote this in like 30 minutes

🏷️ @mavericksice @thatsactuallyinzane @kaya-p @fullofgutsndopamine @inhibitionfreewriting @the-phantom-author @makeandshift @hot-insurrectionist @hasblair @haileyisnotcool @xxepherr @hoziersmom @w3-posts

(tagged people who interacted with part 1 in case they wanted to read part 2)

[maskedbyghost]

Shadows of Obsession (part 3)

part 1, part 2 TW: stalking, kidnapping, captivity, obsession, you know the drill.

Their days are always the same. Mornings begin with the sound of a heavy lock clicking and faint light pouring through the narrow windows of the secluded house. She stirs on the bed he chose for her—too soft, too warm, and far too suffocating, a constant reminder that it isn’t hers. It’s his, like everything else here.

He’s there before she’s fully awake, standing silently in the doorway, watching her. He doesn’t speak right away—he doesn’t need to. His gaze is enough. She pretends not to notice, burying herself deeper under the covers, but he’s patient.

“Breakfast,” he finally says, his voice almost tender. She doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t care.

She sits at the table, silently eating while he studies her from across the room. He makes the meals himself, carefully plating them as if she’s royalty. Sometimes, he talks, sharing stories about his missions or memories that feel like fragments of a life she’ll never understand. Other times, he just watches her, his eyes like a storm she can’t escape.

Her days are spent within the confines of the house. There’s no way out—she’s checked every door, every window, even considered the forest beyond. But he’s always a step ahead, always prepared. He leaves her books, ones he insists she’ll like.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he says when she refuses to open them. “You’ll see I’m doing this for you.”

Afternoons are when he’s the most... suffocating. He lingers too close, his fingers brushing hers as he hands her something, or trailing along the back of her chair as he walks by. He never forces anything, but his presence is constant.

Nights are the worst. He lets her lock her bedroom door—a sick semblance of control he grants her—but she knows he’s just on the other side. Sometimes, she hears him pacing; other times, she swears she hears him whispering her name.

There are moments when he almost seems human—when his voice softens, when he speaks of a future where she’ll stay because she wants to, not because she has to. Those moments terrify her more than his darkness because they make her question everything.

But he’s always there, always waiting.

And she knows, deep down, she’ll never be free of him.

Days blur into weeks, or maybe it’s longer—she’s lost track of time. There’s no clock in the house, no calendar to mark the passing days. He’s erased everything that could connect her to the outside world. All she has now is him, his constant presence, a weight she carries even in her sleep.

Sometimes, she fights back in small ways. She refuses to eat, pushes the plates away when he places them in front of her. His response is calm, infuriatingly so.

“You’ll eat when you’re hungry,” he says, as if it’s a fact, not a demand. And he’s always right.

Other times, she tries to provoke him, to find cracks in his calm demeanor. She throws his books, smashes a plate, screams until her voice is raw. He never raises his voice, never retaliates. Instead, he picks up the pieces, as if to show her that no matter what she does, she can’t break him.

“I know you hate me,” he says one evening as he collects the shards of a glass she shattered against the wall. His voice is low, almost mournful. “But I'll do everything to change your mind.”

It’s the nights that wear her down the most. Alone in her room, she feels his presence just beyond the door. His pacing is rhythmic, a constant reminder that he’s always near. Sometimes, it stops, and the silence feels worse. She knows he’s still there, waiting, listening.

One night, after hours of sleeplessness, she hears the soft scrape of paper sliding beneath her door. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, she gets up and picks it up—a note, written in his handwriting.

"I’m sorry for what I’ve taken from you, but I’ll give you everything in return. Just let me in."

She crumples it without a second thought, but the words linger in her mind long after.

The next morning, he doesn’t mention it. He acts as though nothing has happened, setting breakfast on the table and watching her with that same intensity. But there’s something different in his eyes—an edge of desperation she hasn’t seen before.

“You can talk to me,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice is quieter than usual. “I’ll listen. Whatever you’re feeling, whatever you want to say... just tell me.”

She laughs, sharp and bitter. “You don’t care what I feel. If you did, you wouldn’t have brought me here.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he looks away, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “I do care,” he says finally. “More than you know.”

The sincerity in his voice unnerves her. It’s easier to hate him when he’s the cold, calculating man who took her, who controls every aspect of her life. But in moments like this, when his mask slips, she doesn’t know what to feel.

She wants to scream at him, to demand her freedom, but the words catch in her throat. Deep down, she knows it’s useless. He won’t let her go.

And yet, she can’t stop the question that escapes her lips: “Why me?”

He looks at her then, really looks at her, as if she’s the only thing in the world. “Because you were made for me, love,” he says, like it’s the simplest truth he’s ever spoken.

For the first time, she realizes that no matter how much she fights, he’ll never let her go. Not because of control, or power, but because he believes it with every fiber of his being.

One evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, she sits at the table, absently stirring the soup he made. He’s across from her, watching her every movement.

“I can’t keep living like this,” she says suddenly, her voice breaking the oppressive silence.

His gaze doesn’t falter. “You are living. I’m taking care of you.”

“This isn’t living,” she snaps, her spoon clattering against the bowl. “This is existing in a cage you built.”

He leans forward, his forearms resting on the table, his face unreadable. “It’s not a cage. It’s a sanctuary.”

She stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “A sanctuary? You’ve taken everything from me—my life, my choices, my freedom!”

His expression hardens, the calm veneer cracking. “I’ve given you safety. You don’t know what’s out there, what could’ve happened to you. Here, you’re protected. Here, you’re mine.”

The words hit her like a slap, stealing the air from her lungs. She stares at him, the weight of his obsession pressing down on her.

“You’re insane,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

He stands too, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. For a moment, she thinks he’ll lose control, but instead, he takes a deep breath, his voice softening. “Maybe. But I’d burn the world to keep you safe.”

She shakes her head, backing away. “I’ll never understand you. I’ll never be okay with this.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t stop her as she retreats to her room, slamming the door behind her. She locks it, her hands shaking, but she knows it’s a hollow act. The lock isn’t for him—it’s for her, a fragile illusion of control in a world he’s taken over.

That night, the whispers returned. She presses her ear to the door, her breath hitching.

“You’ll see, love,” his voice murmurs from the other side. “You’ll see I did this for us.”

The tension coils tighter, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. She knows it’s only a matter of time before it breaks—and when it does, there will be no going back.

PART 4

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

girl... just fall in love with him already

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic @identity2212 @tessakate

[flemingsfreckles]

Something New Pt. 2 (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader Smut (18+)

Read part 1 here!

Warnings: smut, use of blindfold, use of handcuffs, oral sex (r receiving), strap on sex (r receiving), teasing, edging, light dom/sub dynamic, sub(reader), praise kink if you squint, cursing,

WC: 4.2k

A/N: sorry this one took so long to get out, the next part will be a while maybe, 🤷‍♀️ but it’ll be using the other toys

You look up at Jessie, a cocky smirk across her face as she straddles you, her fingers interlocked with yours, holding your hands above your head, completely in control of you. She leans down placing her lips to your cheeks, teasing you. Kissing just next to your lips but not giving you the satisfaction of her lips on yours.

You groan when her lips find the corner of your mouth. “Quit teasing and kiss me!” Your begging has the opposite effect, Jessie sits up, her weight resting on your hips.

“So needy already?” Her hands move to pull you to sit up. You do and her hands release yours finding the bottom of the shirt you were wearing. “Let’s take this off.” Jessie says, and happy to do so your hands find hers at the bottom of your shirt and you pull it up and over your head, discarding it to the side of the bed. You quickly remove your bra too.

Jessie’s eyes fall to your chest, watching your nipples harden under the cool temperature of your bedroom. She hums to herself before reaching out, her hands each grasping a breast and she pushes you back down onto your back.

Once your laying flat on the bed, Jessie again takes your hands in hers, only this time she moves her right hand to hold the wrists of both your hands. For a second you debate trying to fight her grip, just to wind her up, get her a little frustrated with your behavior. You decide against it, letting your girlfriend hold you to the bed with one hand. You watch as the muscles in her forearm, bicep, and shoulder move and twitch as she holds you. That was one thing, from a list of many things that you loved about Jessie’s physique, the way you could see her strength at work.

Jessie’s other hand is blindly patting the bed next to you before she pulls her eyes away from yours to look at what she was doing, quickly grabbing the handcuffs.

“I’m going to restrain you to the bed, is that okay?” Jessie looks down at you. She was so beautiful. Still in all of her clothing, her hair neatly surrounding her face.

“Yeah baby.” You look up at her as she starts to move. She releases both hands from you, bringing them up to unlatch the handcuffs.

“Hand.” She says holding out the open cuff. You place your wrist in. Jessie closes the latch, tightening it enough so that you could move your wrist but you couldn’t get out of the restraint. “That okay?”

You give it a trial spin, the cuffs were lined with a fabric, making them more comfortable than metal. “Good.” You smile at her.

She takes your hand bringing it up toward the headboard. She loops the chair between the two cuffs around one of the posts in your headboard before grabbing your wrist and moving your right hand into the other cuff. She tightens it the same before sliding back to sit on your thighs.

“Good? Too tight, too loose?” She asks. You give a timid tug on the handcuffs, the chain leaves you with about two inches of movement. Wanting to make sure they were secure you give a second harder tug, Jessie’s eyes locked on where your hands were.

“Yeah good.”

“The keys right here, they also have a release button.” Jessie says as she places the key from the cuffs onto your bedside table. “If you want them off just say so, I’ll get them off as quick as possible.”

“Blindfold?” You ask, unable to grab it yourself with your hands occupied.

“Yeah?” Jessie looks at you, her hand reaching behind her blindly feeling for the blindfold. When she finds it she brings it up. “Lift your head baby.” You do and Jessie covers your eyes with the fabric, making the previously bright room dark. She ties it behind you.

She leans down, this time actually placing a timid kiss on your lips. “Do we need a safe word?” You hear her ask, it’s strange not being able to see her. “I don't know this is new territory.”

“I don’t think so? We can just go with our usual. Stop means stop, no means no. Hang on, wait, anything like it means slow down. We’re not doing anything crazy where saying stop wouldn’t actually mean stop. I’ll talk to you, I’ll let you know if I need out or I need you to stop.” As you say the words you realize that while Jessie had always leaned toward being the more dominant role in bed, this was the first time you’d be fully under her control.

“Okay.” Jessie lets out a breath. You can feel her shift her body, her hands coming down to your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze as she situates herself on top of you, putting one thigh between your legs. Her movements startle you a bit, causing you to just when her lips find your neck.

Jessie starts trailing kisses down your neck. She knew the spots you liked, normally you’d be able to pull and push her to increase or decrease pressure, but today you couldn’t, and she took advantage of that.

Her lips latched onto the spot she knew would have you moaning, gently sucking. Her tongue pressed hot and warm against your skin. It takes a lot of focus to not allow a moan to slip out, you didn’t want to give Jessie the satisfaction quiet yet. You feel her teeth pinch your skin, a yelp leaving your mouth before it quickly becomes a moan as Jessie runs her tongue over the spot.

She spends another minute kissing your neck, your throat vibrating against her lips as you try to swallow back your groans of pleasure. She then brought her hands from your waist to grab your breasts, kneading them between her fingers before her mouth trailed light kisses down to your right nipple.

Again, not being able to see her, her actions are unexpected. You start to feel a pit in your stomach, nerves, the feeling of being uneasy, not anything you’d ever felt in bed with Jessie. You try and push back the feelings of unease, just telling yourself it’s just something new you had to give it a second. Then Jessie’s fingers find your nipples, giving a slight pinch, something she usually did. However this time, you weren’t enjoying it, you hated not being able to anticipate her movements by seeing her. You can feel your breathing picking up, and not out of pleasure.

“Jessie, hang on.” You speak up, not being able to reach out to her with your hands.

Her hands immediately come off your chest. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think I like the blindfold.” As quick as the words come out of your mouth, the brightness of the room comes flooding into your eyes. Jessie’s hands now holding the blindfold above you.

“Are you okay?” She looks at you, her eyes wide, filled with concern. “Do you want your hands released?”

You shake your head. “No, I’ve liked that so far. I just was getting jumpy, it felt weird not being able to see you.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.” She smiles at you, leaning down placing a soft and loving kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You reply to her. “You can go back to what you were doing.” You give your girlfriend a suggestive wiggle of your eyebrows, looking down at your own chest.

“Are you sure?” She doesn’t even look at your chest, keeping her eyes locked with yours, wanting to make sure you were okay.

“I’m sure Jessie.” You nod, giving her a smile. She places one last sweet kiss to your lips.

She kisses down your chest again, instantly feeling at ease, being able to see her movements, predict what she’ll do next. Her mouth finds its way down to your breasts, leaving open mouth kisses across them. She gives you a cock of her eyebrow before she moves over to your nipple.

She gently blew cold air, making your nipple peak, you watch as she smirks to herself at your body’s reaction. She then takes the peak into her mouth, sucking and letting her tongue run over it.

You feel yourself pull against the restraints, normally you’d be tangling your hands in her hair, scratching at her scalp and encouraging her to keep her mouth on your chest. But today you couldn’t.

So you just watched as she teased your nipple. She gently traced your nipple just using the tip of her tongue.

“Jessie.” You groan, bucking your hips which only causes you more frustration as her thigh is perfectly placed between your own thighs. When you thrust up, the pressure and friction of her muscular leg sends a jolt of pleasure in your core.

“What?” She says, playing oblivious with you, she tilts her head, giving you an innocent look.

“Fuck me.”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“I mean actually fuck me, take my pants off and fuck me.”

“Ask nicely and I might.” Her eyes locked on yours, you felt small the way she was staring down at you. You liked it.

“Please Jessie, please fuck me, please.” You do your best to pair your words with a pleading look, hoping she’ll give in.

She does, Jessie could hold her own on the pitch, with friends, but when it came to you, especially you, naked, begging her to fuck you, she was putty in your hands.

“Good girl.” She nods down at you before pushing her thigh harder into you, she doesn’t stop you when you grind against her.

She reaches down, removing her own shirt, leaving her in a tight sports bra, your eyes taking a second to trail down her abdomen. You found yourself wishing you could run your fingers down her toned stomach, wishing you could be leaving a trail of goosebumps with your finger tips. But you couldn’t.

Her hands then strip you of your pants and underwear. She spreads your legs to come lay between them. She situates herself pulling your legs over her shoulders, her face just inches from your core. Just as she did with your nipples, she blows a cool breeze over you.

All you can do is watch as she sticks out her tongue, her eyes locked on yours as she licks a single stripe through your folds. You try and thrust for more contact, Jessie’s arms wrap around your thighs holding you firmly to the bed.

She gives a few more teasing licks before diving in fully, her lips wrapping around you, her tongue starting a relentless pace against your clit. You want to grab her hair, push her harder into you, pull on her, knowing how she’d react, instead you pull against the headboard.

“You taste divine.” She says looking up at you, your wetness across her face. “I could stay here all day.” She returns to licking and sucking, her tongue staying where you needed her.

You loved when Jessie ate you out, she knew what you liked, she knew how to lick and suck to get you moaning easily. You loved the way her brown eyes would look up at you, how you’d be able to feel her moan against you, getting pleasure from tasting you.

“You’re so good at that, fuck.” You throw your head back as Jessie increases her suction around your clit, giving it a few hard flicks with her tongue. You moan her name, making her moan into you in return.

She picks her head up for a second, leaving you longing for her mouth. “Tell me before you cum.” She looks at you. You nod, thinking she just wants to hear you tell her she’s making you cum.

You should’ve known better. “Jess, I’m close, I’m going to cum.” You warn her and she pulls away. “Jessssie.” You whine her name.

“What baby?” She looks up at you, head resting against your thigh.

“I was about to cum.”

“I know, that’s why I stopped.” She says before she blows cool air over your sensitive core again. A strangled moan comes out of your throat.

“More please.” You beg her. She gives in, her face meeting your pussy, her tongue returning to its motions before. Despite the break, you’re immediately put back on the edge. “Fuck, fuck, I’m-” before you even finish, Jessie pulls back again. You give her a frustrated look, you just wanted to cum.

It didn’t seem like you’d be cumming shortly as Jessie removes herself from between your legs. She gets off the bed and moves over to where the pile of toys sat. “Babe.” You whimper.

“Hang on beautiful, I’ll let you cum soon.” She turns back giving you a sweet smile before turning her focus back in front of her.

When she returns she’s got the small bullet vibrator in her hand, the harness around her hips with the new, slightly larger dildo attached to it.

“Babe, you’re supposed to put the vibrator in the pocket.” You nod at her trying to point toward the harness without using your hands. She climbs on the bed finding her place between your legs and nodding at you.

“I know, and I will. I just wanted to do this first.” Her left hand comes to your core, spreading you open. She takes the vibrator in her right hand, turns it on and places it against your clit. You try and pull your hips away, harder to do without the use of your upper body, you didn’t want to get sent over the edge yet. You try to close your legs but before you can, Jessie’s left hand moves to one thigh while her knee comes down to hold your other thigh.

“Jessie.” You let out a long drawn out whine of her name. You were going to cum if she kept you open like this.

“What baby? Feel good? Do you want to cum?” It was like she was taunting you.

“So good Jessie, please.” You were completely at her mercy, you couldn’t move away, you tried but Jessie’s strength kept you in place.

“You can cum baby.” As she says it she clicks the button on the vibrator, increasing the intensity of its movement. The new speed of the vibrator and your inability to move away had you immediately on the edge.

“Oh fuck.” Your hands tug hard against the headboard, you can feel the metal digging into your wrist you’re probably going to have marks on your wrists for a little while. Your legs began to tremble under Jessie hold, your back arched off the bed as your orgasm ripped through you.

You screwed your eyes shut, unable to use the rest of your body to ease into the orgasm, it hit you at full force. You let a deep groan come out, feeling yourself clench around nothing as you came, your clit quickly becoming overly sensitive.

You could hear Jessie talking to you, talking you through the pleasure she was giving you. Your ears ringing make it hard to understand her words but knowing she was talking to you was good enough.

Your orgasm consumed your senses, until you were just a whimpering mess under Jessie.

“Too much.” You managed to get out between gasps, Jessie pulled the vibrator away, listening to your needs. She moved her leg off of your thigh, letting you close your legs slightly. You can feel your muscles aching already from straining against her.

“So pretty.” Jessie lets a hand trail between your breasts and down to just above your pubic bone. “So pretty.” She repeats, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

You close your eyes, feeling your energy drain as you continue to relax after your orgasm.

“You sleepy now, pretty girl?” Jessie whispers to you, placing a kiss to the skin just below your ear. “We can wait to try out the new strap.”

“No!” Your orgasm had taken away most of your energy but you still had the urge to be filled by Jessie. “I want it still, I want you inside of me.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Jessie pulls away from you to sit back on her knees. She quickly pulls the harness away from her body to put the vibrator into the pocket. Her hands grab your thighs pulling you so your thighs rested on top of hers. Her hands stroked up and down your legs, the feeling relaxing your tight muscles.

“You’re dripping for me.” Jessie says running two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on her fingers. When she reaches your clit you jolt at the sensation, still feeling the aftermath of your orgasm. She quickly brings the fingers to her mouth, sucking them off and moaning at the taste of you.

When she’s done cleaning her fingers her hand falls between her legs to grasp the base of the new dildo, she gently begins rubbing the head between your legs, your slick wetting it. Her other hand leaves your thighs and grabs the bottle of lube on the nightstand. She squeezes a small amount onto the strap, using her hand to spread it.

In the store the new strap hadn’t appeared to be much bigger than your previous one. Now looking at it sitting between Jessie’s thighs, the girth was wider, the length was longer.

“Ready?” Jessie looks up from where she was still moving the tip over your skin.

“Yeah.” You widen your legs even more and Jessie sits up to put the strap to angle into your entrance. She uses her hand to guide the tip into you, before slowly beginning to thrust with her hips into you. It didn’t feel much different for the first few moments, a small stretch but nothing new.

When Jessie got about halfway, the stretch got more intense, beginning to border on uncomfortable. You sucked in air, trying to relax your body as much as possible, you wanted her inside of you. Normally you’d reach out, place a gentle pressure on Jessie’s hips or chest to let her know with your body to slow down, you couldn’t do that today. “Can you slow down a bit?” You finally ask when her next movement causes a sharp pain.

“Of course.” Jessie pauses her movement for a few seconds before pushing in again, even slower than before. “Better?”

“Yeah sorry it’s just bigger.”

“Don’t apologize baby.”

She continues to ease into you, taking her time, watching your face, your breathing, she’s watching your hands, how you’re gripping the headboard tighter when it starts to be uncomfortable, adjusting her pace accordingly.

When she finally bottoms out inside of you, she waits for you to tell her to move. When you buck your hips upwards into her lap with a small moan, she takes the hint and slowly begins to pull out of you. When she reaches the end she fully pulls out. You stop her when she goes to put the tip back against you.

“More lube please.” Jessie nods and grabs the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto the strap. She closes the bottle and begins to push back into you.

“Fuck.” The feeling of her entering a second time is only pleasure. The stretch is just enough to feel full while not being painful. “So good Jessie.”

Your words are enough to give Jessie the hint to speed up, she begins thrusting at a quicker, consistent pace. She doesn’t pull fully out each time, she pulls back just enough for the tip to stay inside of you, before she fills you back up.

She grabs your hips, holding you tight and giving herself more leverage to thrust into you. As she thrusts you begin to feel the warmth building up in your stomach again. “That’s good Jess.” You want to grab her, hold her close.

She picks up her pace and the force behind her thrusts, her movements causing your breasts to bounce, drawing Jessie’s attention down to them.

“You look so sexy taking all of me baby.” Jessie says, you feel your face flush, Jessie was never silent in bed but she hardly would praise you in the form of full sentences. She’d usually just let out some profanities, or moans of your name. Here she was praising you while she fucked you. It was making you feel tingly, making you overly aware of the vulnerability of your situation.

Your hands tied to the bed, your whole body on display for her, her movements in control of yours, she was in charge. She held the power.

Jessie’s hips stall for a second and you watch as she reaches into the harness, you quickly feel the vibrations and it’s clear Jessie does too. Her eyes widen, a smile coming across her face.

She starts thrusting again. You’re able to feel the vibrations through the strap, adding to your already building high. When Jessie fills you up this time, she grinds gently against you, you can tell she’s working the vibrator against herself.

“Oh fuck.” She lets out under her breath before thrusting again, repeating the grinding motion.

You can hear her breathing picking up, her chest rising and falling quicker, she starts pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Small noises of pleasure leave her mouth with each thrust.

“You feel so good, you’re going to make me cum.” Jessie’s movements become more shallow, the grinding more aggressive. The mixture of the constant fullness and the tingle of the vibrator sends you over the edge, your thighs wrap hard around Jessie’s waist. You pull hard on your wrists, thinking for a second you’ll maybe snap the chain holding the cuffs.

“Cumming Jess,” is all you’re able to get out as your pussy clenches hard around Jessie’s strap as she works herself through for her own pleasure. She throws her head back with a moan before collapsing down over your own body.

She quickly reaches into the harness turning off the vibrator to not overstimulate either of you. You both lay chest to chest for a minute, the sound of heavy breathing filling the air. Jessie then lifts herself up, the strap still buried in between your legs.

“Alright if I pull out?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is hoarse, the sleepy feeling from before returning. She pulls out, letting the strap rest against your stomach as she reaches over to grab the handcuff key. She reaches up, unlocking both of your wrists. She takes your wrists in her hands, looking them over and seeing the red rub marks. “Oh baby, you’re hurt!” She lets her thumbs rub over where the metal had indented into your skin from you fighting against them. The skin stung a little bit, but you didn’t mind.

“Oh it’s nothing babe, it’s fine.” You reassure her, not wanting her to think she caused you pain.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She looks up from where her thumbs traced the markings. “You must’ve been pulling hard against them.”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Good though?”

“Yeah, I really liked it, not just the handcuffs, all of it, your control, the edging, the way you were speaking to me.” You bring your hands to cover your face, feeling shy admitting you liked being at her mercy.

“Good to know.” She smiles at you. “Do you need anything? Water? a snack? I’ll get you some cream for your wrists.”

“Yeah that’s good, shower and then maybe snack time in bed?”

“Sure honey.” Jessie places a kiss on your forehead before getting up and removing the harness from around her hips. She takes off her sports bra and her boxers and then reaches her hands out to you.

“Come here.” You give her your hands and let her help pull you up from the bed. Your legs feel weak when you stand, Jessie’s arm wraps around your waist as she gently guides you into the bathroom.

The two of you shower, Jessie washes your hair and body, just letting you relax under the water. When you get out she wraps you in a fresh towel and brings you to the counter to put some ointment onto your wrists, you managed to rub off a few layers of skin from pulling against the handcuffs. She places bandaids over the sores and kisses just below them.

She then helps you put on sweatpants and gives you one of her shirts. She tucks you into bed with a quick peck to the lips. “I’ll be right back.” She leaves, only to come back a few minutes later with popcorn, some candy, and water.

The two of you snack, you’re cuddled up into Jessie’s chest, one arm across her waist, drawing circles on her stomach under her shirt. She rests one arm around your back, giving you gentle scratches on your lower back. Her other hand was holding the popcorn bowl.

You both put on a movie, it doesn’t take long until you’re feeling yourself doze off. Between your exhaustion and the sound of Jessie’s heartbeat in your ear, the feeling of her warmth and her fingers scratching your back, you fall asleep, feeling safe wrapped in the arms of your girlfriend.

[galaxymedes]

AFTG Loft House tour

Bc they deserve a home more than a roof on top.

Every little detail bellow.

Corridor, Kitchen, dinning room and living room

Details:

-Barkbark Von Barkenstein remade in potery class

-Jeremy´s grandmas films recovered from blockbuster.

-White roses

-Jean´s pottery class bowl

-Trojan´s organisation board

-Jab´s bed by Jean´s feets

Cat and Laila´s Bedroom and wardrobe

Details:

-Laila´s desk is super tidy compeared to Cat´s

-Cat stole Laila´s chair

-Laila has a boba illustration framed on her desk to inspire her to study

-The board of Jabberwocky at Laila´s desk

-Trojans uniform laid on the wardrobe

Jean and Jeremy´s bedroom+wardrobe

Details:

-Trojans uniform laid on the floor

-Jeremy´s bedside table

-Jeremy´s grandma film poster bought on ebay

-The law book

-Kevin´s postcard sent to Jean after the other house.

Balcony, 1 of the bathrooms and spare room

Details:

-Gardening pots on the left corner

-A peach tree cause FBI say it´s ok

-An orange bush

-Jean looking at the tree

-The "boy´s" bathroom

-The spare room as utility room. Also used for Jeremy to sleep when Jean gets mad at him (fanon)

There are 3 videos coming on the replies. For a full vogue house tour.