#she was just supposed to be a minor character but i fell in love and now have to come up with ways to include her in the main plot more

[minamill]

📔 Anisa Abdullahi 📔

Bookworm, Socially Awkward, Family-Oriented

[rainrot4me]

Love Me Like I’m Yours

Summary: Eijiro’s got it bad for you, but he won’t admit it out of fear of messing up your comfortability with him. He’s your rock, your stability, so when you sleepily ask him to stay the night, it takes everything in him not to ruin that wall he’s built.

Characters: Eijiro Kirishima x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Pining, secret feelings, friends to lovers, gentle sex, fluffy sex, fluff, emotional, embarrassment, morning wood, longing, vaginal, vaginal fingering, morning wood

Words: 4.0k

There was something so hypocritical about Eijiro loathing movie nights.

It was exactly what he loved: spending time with his friends, hanging out together and sharing something, exactly what he always wanted to do anyway. His classmates could never understand why he always wanted to go out on the designated movie nights, spending Saturday evenings trying his best to make some excuse. Still, Mina dragged him down to the couches forcefully, rolling her eyes at how the redhead grovelled about not wanting to be there. Why wouldn’t he want to spend time with his beloved classmates snuggled on a couch?

He’ll tell you why. The reason was walking straight towards him.

Your cute little face was already cheerfully smiling as you plopped down in your familiar spot beside him, blankets wrapped in your arms. The routine was the same: On movie nights, Eijiro let you lay on him (you always fell asleep before the movie was over), and you brought your weighted blanket big enough to cover you both. At first, it was sweet, a close friendship that the redhead genuinely enjoyed entertaining, always eager to see you snuggled against him.

But the weekends passed, Saturday nights rushing along, and eventually, Eijiro found himself blushing and tense as you snored quietly on his lap. You had become comfortable with him, he was happy for it, but another part of him cursed himself for letting it happen. You were his best friend, besides Katuski and the others, Eijiro felt the most comfortable just being with you, the happiest in your company. So, when he let his happiness slowly fade into a crush, everything came crashing down. He was supposed to be your friend, you were supposed to feel free around him, not like he was about to ruin your friendship with one slip of a wrong word. 

“Hi, Eiji, what movies tonight?” You smiled, throwing the blanket over you two as you both hauled into the corner of the common area couch, the rest of your classmates finding their usual spots on the floor or on the couch with you. Yaoyorozu and Denki were to your right, Jiro nestled on the ground between their legs and offering a bowl of popcorn up to you, the buttery scent nice as you scooped it up. Bakugo and Ashido sat on the couch adjacent to you all, her legs thrown over his thighs as she tapped away on her phone, the blond craning his neck to try and talk to Tokoyami about some band stuff. Everyone was settling in, Ida making sure everyone was comfortable before he switched off the lights, starting the movie up as the pictures flashed across the large TV. “Some American movie, I think,” Eijiro whispered, tensing as you already began to lay your head on his shoulder, skipping straight to his point exactly. “An older one.”

You hummed, tucking your legs close and wrapping snugly in the large blanket, tossing the extra onto Eijiro’s lap. Everyone was quietly whispering, shushing each other as the movie began to play. The class was relaxed, spread out, and took up the entire common area. Eijiro was already stiff and rigid. You already knew, despite what he thought. It barely took you even speaking to him anymore before he was a mumbling mess, hurriedly apologizing for having to leave and get out of your sight. The redhead never was good with being straightforward, not with you, at least. With everyone else, he was always giddy, always so excited to have people piled into his dorm and hanging around, but if you entered, there were sudden complaints of being tired and needing to get some sleep. This, unfortunately, was the only way you were going to get to be around him. Whether he liked it or not.

The movie dabbled on, some old romance from the early 2000s you couldn’t bring yourself to care about as you felt your eyelids dip. You couldn’t help it, Eiji was just so warm, so stupidly warm and cute when he was like this, stiff as a board under your heavy head. There was no use fighting, you knew he’d wake you up at the end anyway…

Eijiro glanced cautiously, stunned when he watched your eyes fluttering closed and cheeks squished against his shoulder. He blushed, adjusting his position so it was easier for you to get comfortable, your breathing quiet and labored beside him. 

These were the times Eijiro really enjoyed, the moments when he could just look at you without fear of being caught or called out on it, where everyone else was so focused on the movie they couldn’t even see his eyes roaming, grinned with your pretty little face. He would just let you sleep, tucking the blanket closer under your arms or letting you slobber into his shirt sleeve, but he didn’t care.

-

The movie’s credits rolled, everyone tiredly shuffling towards the stairs with their pillows and blankets tucked under their arms. A few straggled towards the kitchen, reaching for some late-night snacks to tie them over till morning before making their way up as well. Eijiro waited, like he always did, until everyone was gone before he lightly tapped your shoulder, stroking his finger across your plump cheeks to coax you awake. You were snuggled in tight tonight, lips parted and cheeks squished against his shoulder, his t-shirt slightly stained with your drool. He smiled, tapping your shoulder again, but you just wouldn’t wake up. “[Y/N]...” He cooed, nudging his arm a little to jolt you, but you just slid down, head bobbing down until it fell onto his thigh, and laid completely down.

Eijiro jolted, panicking slightly as you laid your head on his lap, just as deep into sleep as you were before, completely unaware. “Ah- Shit… okay.” He huffed, sliding his hands under your head and propping you back up, tucking his other arm under your body to haul you into his lap fully, cradling you. “Rough day. She was up studying in here until morning yesterday. Stressed about finals or something.” Eijiro looked up, Mina’s pink curls filling his vision as she leaned down, smiling at your sleeping face. He hadn’t even heard her come in, too focused on making sure you were still comfortable. “Oh, shit.” The redhead replied, wiping your bangs off of your forehead as you turned your face into the crook on his shoulder, settling in, tucking the blanket back over you. Mina chuckled, waving and heading back towards the stairs with a bag of chips in her hand, knowingly giving a wink. Eijiro sat, a little pink on his cheeks as he watched you breathe, holding you tight. “We gotta get you to bed then, huh?” He asked, smiling at you as he hauled you up, carrying you in his arms, you were practically light as a feather. 

The walk up to your room was full of your quiet sighs and fingers clenching into his shirt, sleeping soundly. You were always good about being able to wake up and haul your own self to your bed, but Eijiro knew that was out of the question tonight. 

Pushing your door handle down with his elbow, Eijiro pushed open your dorm door, clicking it back shut with his foot as he turned into the dark space. He realized he had never been in here before, never confident enough to stride into your room without getting all flustered. It was cute, the decorations matched your sweet personality. He fumbled around, the streetlights outside your window illuminating through your curtains just enough to find your bed, setting you down on top of the sheets. Eijiro noticed the way your whole room smelled like you, your nice perfume and hair products mixing and making him smile, tugging your soft sheets down to help you under them. 

It was funny, as he tucked you in you didn’t stir once, his awkward touches not rousing you until he pressed away, his presence retreating and causing you to flutter your tired eyes open. “Eiji…?” You mumbled, turning on your side as you watched the muscular boy slide towards your door quietly, tossing your blanket onto your chair. He hissed, turning slowly to see your eyes lazily trained on him in the dark. “Don’ leave…” You mumbled again, letting your eyes close as you shoved the covers down, inviting him in. The redhead blushed, cheeks flushed as he stepped closer, shaking his head. “You need to sleep, [Y/N]. Me too.”

“Then sleep here, kay?” You lazily smiled, reaching out as he began to retreat again. Eijiro groaned, fighting his every instinct to jump into bed with you, his nervousness overtaking him once again. “I can’t. You won’t sleep comfortably with me in there.” You shook your head, this time pushing the covers down to your knees and sitting up, reaching out to grab his shirt sleeve and tug him towards you. Eijiro stuttered, muttering excuses as his heart raced, but you dragged the large guy towards your mattress, his knee raising to press against the bed to stop you from pulling him down. You sighed, plopping back onto the pillows as you held his shirt sleeve, refusing to let go. “Get in bed, Eiji…” You smiled, looking up at him through half-lids and giving his sleeve a good tug. “Or I ain’t sleeping at all.”

The redhead sighed, giving up as he kicked off his shoes, pulling the covers up as you victoriously smiled. You knew him, his lack of capability when it came to you. This was the only way you knew to break that, the only way you knew to push past that wall he had built for himself and get him comfortable. Straight to the point, you supposed.

Sliding over, Eijiro slid under the covers, anxiously lying with space between you two as he placed his head on your pillow, refusing to look at your face as you rolled your eyes. “So far…” You huffed, turning your back to him and tugging his arm with you, smiling at how much larger even just his arm was compared to you. You hauled him closer, forcing his forearm around your shoulder and holding on tight, his chest pressing to you. You could blame it on being tired and delusional, but you knew what you were doing, and you had a suspicion he did too. “Ah- okay…” Eijiro cringed, awkwardly adjusting up against you and trying his best not to impose. He just took up so much room though, you getting swallowed up against him as you breathed deep, settling back into sleep. The redhead just watched, nervously nibbling on his bottom lip as he watched you effortlessly slide back into slumber.

Eijiro thought that was his favorite view. No matter where, he always enjoyed watching you sleep, just how peaceful and relaxed you looked. It was the one time he wasn’t freaking out about you potentially catching his gaze. Making sure you actually were asleep, he pressed closer, letting his arm relax over your waist and wrapping close, pressing against you comfortably. He grinned, breathing deep and still trying not to stir you, letting his own eyes shut as your hair tickled his nose. He would leave in a little bit… Yeah…

-

Morning came faster than expected, the sunlight peeking and lighting up your dorm. You both snored quietly, Eijiro’s arms now completely wrapped around you and tugging you closer as you gripped onto his hands. His mouth hung open, hair a mess and shirt tugged up to his chest, you cradled practically under him. Everything was peaceful, the Sunday morning creeping slowly as you stirred, eyes gently popping open.

You smiled, realizing that Eijiro hadn’t left and had stayed throughout the night. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, letting your body contort to his largeness and accidentally letting your ass pressed back to his hips, gasping when you left his boner already present. Morning wood. Eijiro felt the stimulation too, because he was already rousing awake behind you. You refused to move, shutting your eyes back quickly as he groaned, his hips instinctually pushing forward for friction until he realized what he was doing, jumping awake.

The redhead sat up quickly, knocking your head off of his shoulder and hissing when he realized he had woken you up, quickly apologizing. “Jesus- Uhm… sorry.” He groaned, gripping the covers tight over his hips as you sat up, smiling awkwardly. “It’s fine…” The air was tense now, Eijiro glancing back and forth between you and the door, anxiously trying to find an out for himself without you seeing his very untimely bulge in his gym shorts. You knew but tried to act oblivious as you crawled over him, sliding off of the bed and reaching for your phone, noticing the time was later into the morning, almost noon. “Damn, heavy sleepers, huh?” You laughed, Eijiro nodding but cheeks giving him away, their redness almost concerning. “I, uhm… I gotta go.” Eijiro smiled, trying to nonchalantly stand up but you blocked his path, crossing your arms sheepishly. “Why? Cause your boner?” You teased, popping a hip out as you stood that the redhead definitely took notice of. The redhead stuttered, face turning deep shades of red as he gawked, embarrassingly trying to state otherwise, but it was too late.

“[Y/N]...” He grits, looking to the floor but desperately wanting to look at you. “Can’t help it.” You smiled, pushing back onto the bed beside him. He hesitated, trying not to let you get too close but you were already holding his arm, pressing against his shoulder. “It’s alright Eiji… But, we do gotta talk.” You grinned, leaning back into your headboard and dragging him with you, his hand tight on the covers to cover his crotch. “Can I say no?” He smiled awkwardly back, trying to stop himself from leaving altogether. Shaking your head, he sighed, relaxing back as you held his arm. “You can’t avoid me anymore.”

Eijiro groaned quietly, looking in the opposite direction but eventually finding his way back to you, his cheeks a dark tint. “It’s just… I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” You huffed. “Try.” The redhead locked his eyes onto yours, admiring how the sunlight from the window accentuated your cheeks, how cute. But he was also keenly aware of how close you were, nervously letting his arm relax as you traced his veins with your fingernails. “It’s just… I’m so good with people, making friends, anyway. But, something about you is just different. I just feel so embarrassed and nervous, I’m never like that. Only with you…” He cringed, nose crinkling as he pushed his hair out of his face, the usually spiky strands looking a lot more limp and tangled. “I think I like you, maybe…” He sat awkwardly, hesitant for your response. 

You laughed, “You think?” Eijiro answered by covering his face, sheepishly laughing with you as you slid your hands down to hold his hand, his rough callouses from working out tickling your soft ones. “Eiji. It took you long enough.” You finally broke, smiling at him as he looked into your eyes, trying to find some hint of a joke or a tease but being left with only butterflies. “You’re very obvious, by the way.” You chirped again, giggling as you slid closer, letting his body press close as he contemplated, but eventually fell into your touch. “Sorry… So, what does this mean, or like, uhm…” He laughed, trying to gauge you but not being too blunt, jolting when your face was suddenly close to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “That.”

Eijiro looked at you for a moment, stunned and far too excited to realize what had just happened, body moving before he could think. His hands were around your cheeks in a second, tugging your face close to his and pressing a firm kiss onto them, his roughs ones resting comfortably with your soft ones. You melted in, pressing your hands to his chest and gripping his shirt, trying to drag him closer. “Ei…” You groaned, letting his arms wrap behind your back and tug you onto his lap, the redhead assumingly forgetting the morning wood that was very much still present underneath your ass. Pressing your lips firmly against his, you let him lead, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he gripped your hips, unconsciously pushing you down firmly. 

“Ah- Ei-” You laughed, pulling back off of his lips as he leaned forward, trying to reconnect them before coming to. “Shit! Sorry- Ah, jeez… Sorry… Just wanted to do that for a long time…” He confessed, slightly out of breath as he realized what you meant, your wandering eyes alerting him to his morning wood turned boner. “Fuck…” He groaned, embarrassment causing him to push your hips off and tug the covers back over. You laughed, pressing back closer for another kiss, tugging the sheets down as you pressed onto your knees. “Well, can’t just leave it unattended, right?” You teased, pulling the sheets off of the redhead and watching as he became startled, slightly panicking as you tried to slide your fingers into his shorts. “Wait- Ah, are you sure..?” You nodded, pressing your fingers up into the hem of his shirt and slowly sliding it off, pushing the fabric over his messy hair as he settled in. “Have been for a while…”

Eijiro let you lead, setting back against the headboard as you tugged your own shirt off, the sight of your tits making the redhead squirm. He sat forward, forgetting himself and pushing you down to the bed, his eagerness catching you off guard, but his hands were gentle. “Sorry… jeez, you’re just so pretty.” He smiled, dipping his large hand into your shorts and tugging them down, looking into your eyes as you giggled, pressing kisses against his cheek. 

Laying down beside you, Eijiro pulled your shorts off your ankles, face growing dark as you were half-naked beside him. “Listen. I don’t want you to think I’m doin’ all this just cause I wanna get laid… I… I really like you, [Y/N]...” He reassured, your answering kiss on the lips easing him, still nervously tracing his fingers along your stomach. You sat up on your elbows, watching as his thick fingers pressed past your panty line, down towards your folds. You were so excited, hips practically arching upwards to get his fingers closer faster. When you finally felt his thick pads press into your already wet lips, you groaned out. 

Eijiro was peppering your cheeks with kisses, making sure you were okay every couple of minutes as he pumped his fingers in, stretching you slowly. “You okay, love?” He mumbled, eyes trained on how his fingers looked as they tugged out of you, his digits slick with your arousal. He slowly, lazily fingered you, making sure to curl upwards against your squishy walls just enough to make you whine, but always making sure it felt good. “I’m okay… Faster…” You mewled out, letting your head rest against the boy’s shoulder, breathing his scent deep as you fell apart to his fingers, their size much larger than your own could ever reach. “Just breathe, baby.” Eijiro hissed as you wrapped your hand around his wrist, holding his hand still as you ground your hips down, practically riding his fingers. His palm jerked against your clit, making your eyes flutter as your face felt hot, angling so his fingers would reach up into your g-spot. “Need you, Ei…”

The redhead groaned, tugging his own shorts down with his free hand as you still worked, soaking onto his fingers before tugging them out, just to push them right back in. “Okay, okay.” He smiled, kissing against your neck as he lazily pumped his cock, you gasping at the sight of it. He was big, girthy anyway, but definitely bigger than any dildo you had taken. Whining, you tugged his fingers out, spreading your legs and staring into his eyes as you smiled, arching back into him. “Please, Eiji…” The boy groaned, laying flush behind your back as he tugged your leg up, spreading your cunt apart as he aligned himself with your entrance, gauging your reactions as he slowly pressed in, moaning at the way you gasped. “So big…” You mewled, smiling wildly as he pushed further, letting his cock spread your entrance wider and your plump lips swallow him in, your cunt just as desperate as you were. “Shit, baby…”

You reached behind yourself, gripping onto a tuft of Eiji’s hair as he lazily fucked into your warm cunt, kissing the back of your neck and cooing lovely words into your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked. Despite his size, Eijiro was so soft, so considerate towards you and every reaction you gave him, his love far more than just mental. “Doin’ so good, love.” He smiled as you gripped the sheets, his cock pressing against your walls and tugging moans past your lips. You wanted to submit, to let him do this all the time, every day even… “Ei… date me…” You gasped between moans, giggling as he rocked his hips, stuttering at your request. “You ask that- ah- now?” He groans, letting his head fall to your shoulder as he breathes in your smell, already knowing his answer. “It just… felt appropriate…” You smiled, a hiss rolling from your tongue as his cock stretched you, your leg growing tired as Eijiro held it up, stretching your hips wide. 

Eijiro gasped quietly, burying his head into your neck as he agreed, smiling like an idiot as he pushed your leg past his chest, pushing into your hips and placing his arms on either side of your head, rolling his hips in. “Jeez, baby, feels so good. You look so pretty…” He huffed, kissing against your cheeks and lips as he fucked into you, your cunt swelling and pulsing around him. “Gunna cum…” You moaned into his mouth, breathy sighs fogging his cheek as he wrapped his arms under your back, keeping a steady pace to tilt you over, rocking more intentionally now…

“Eiji-” You whined as you came, pressing your lips to his as your cunt pulsed, aching pleasure through your body as he groaned, trying to push past your tightness and ride you through your orgasm. “Fuck-” He tried to press in as long as he could, giving one finally thrust before tugging out, stroking his cock quickly before releasing onto your stomach, his apologies quick as he moaned through them, your hands roaming his body as he panted. You smiled as he eventually calmed, kissing your cheeks as he pushed off, grabbing a napkin from your desk and cleaning you off with a teasing apology.

“So…” You smiled, still out of breath as you settled into the covers, reaching for the larger boy as he laid back down, cradling his arms around you. “So..?” He chirped back, a goofy smile spreading across his face. “Jesus I love you.” You laughed, rolling into his arms and kissing his skin.

-

Saturday rolled around again, the scheduled movie night pressing closer as everyone piled into their seats, the usual pairings snuggling up as Eijiro waited patiently, scrolling on his phone. 

His vision was blinded as hands reached around to cover his face, the redhead’s arms shooting back to grab the mystery arms and tugging the light body over the back of the couch, right into his lap. You giggled as you hauled the blanket over with you, landing comfortably into your boyfriend’s lap and smiling wide, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Gotcha.” 

“Sure.” Eijiro smiled, pulling the blankets from your hands and throwing it over the two of you, his arms finding their usual spot cradled around your body and holding you close. Knowing pairs of your classmates' eyes watched, some smiling as Iida turned the lights down, everyone turning their attention away. But you both continued to look at eachother, admiring the way you slotted against each other so perfectly. 

Finally turning to look at the tv, you smiled, Eijiro’s eyes still trained on your pretty face. This was the first time he was able to look at you and not feel embarrassed, nervous you would catch his gaze any minute. Now he just looked, unashamed and longingly, smiling every time you glanced back at him.

He’d never look away again.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[lowkeyerror]

Death and Dinner

Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes: Fluff, banter, minor angst, technically character death (you're dead), mentions of minor character death, more comfort than hurt, comedy aspects

Summary: You are Death's secretary. When she can't remember how you died, she convinces you to tell her over dinner.

An: This idea comes from that one person on tiktok that does the Death and Secretary skits I think you can find them @ FlickerSpark on tiktok.

Masterlist | Masterlist 2

The natural order of things can be very meticulous at times. While it may seem as though things just happen and the process is self-sufficient that is not always the case.

When it came to the process of dying, there were many steps to make it to eternal bliss or damnation or something in-between.

Death used to handle all of those pesky decisions on her lonesome, but eventually to make her job easier, she got a secretary.

Someone who could handle all the mundane aspects of the life cycle, so that all she had to do was collect the souls. It left the grim reaper with an abundance of free time to run amuck.

Rio loved to run amuck.

You hardly think she was Lady Death with all of the fun she had. There was nearly always a smile on her face, she always had something smug to say, she was something like a light. So bright that you could go blind just by looking at her.

“Y/n, how’s my 4 o’clock looking?”

Her presence startles you as it always does. Rio just likes to pop up unannounced rather than use the door.

You click a few things on your desktop, “Not that busy, but it seems like a lot of accidents. Slipped and fell with knife, choked on dinner, ingesting paint.”

“Ingesting paint does not sound like and accident,” Rio places her hand on her forehead.

You shrug, “All that to say you’re not dealing with the brightest bunch here.”

She groans, “I wish you could come with me on the pick-ups, you have way more patience than I do.”

“True.”

Rio scoffs playfully, “You were supposed to disagree.”

You roll your eyes at her, “Oh no Lady Death you are so patient and kind.”

She laughs at your sarcasm, “I’ll have you know I am very patient. Why do you think people get live past the age 30 now? When I was alive 30 was old, now we got people living past 100.”

You nod in faux-agreement, “Sure, if you say so.”

Rio narrows her eyes, “You’re not… you weren’t 30, right? When you died?”

It’s your turn to laugh, “No, I was not.”

She sighs in relief, “Whew, for a second there I thought-”

“I was 27,” you cut her off.

There aren’t many times that Death is left speechless, but this is one of them.

“And you died how?” She says after a long silence.

A small smirk plays on your lips, “You’re going to have to remember that one.”

“Y/n,” she whines. “People die all day, everyday.”

“But only one of those people is your secretary. Now go reap those empty headed souls, it’s 4,” you shoo her away

She points a finger at you, “This isn’t over.”

“Looking forward to it, you retort.”

When Rio leaves you’re somewhere in the back of her mind. She remembers picking you as her secretary in the 90’s? Maybe it was the 2000’s? There was definitely internet.

She remembers picking you because of how smart you were. Being cute definitely didn’t harm the decision making process. She remembers the confusion when she saw someone like you was supposed to float off in purgatory for eternity.

She comes back into the office when she’s done, opting to use the door for once. She put her elbow on the desk, so that head could rest in her palm.

“Did you kill yourself?”

You don’t look up from your keyboard, “Not exactly.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

You shrug, “The true kind.”

“You’re killing me baby,” Rio puts a dramatic pout on her face.

“Statistically improbable,” you finally look up at her.

Her eyes are scanning over your face, “Ok, clearly I don’t recall, but I want to know. How about, as a sorry for not remembering how you died, I take you out of this stuffy old office? We can get dinner and then you can fill me in on your passing.”

“That kind of sounds like date,” you point out.

Rio just counters, “It sounds like dinner.”

“I can agree to those terms.”

She smirks, “Let’s go then.”

“Right now?”

She extends her hand to you, “No better time than the present.”

You put your hand in hers, “I don't get to get ready?”

Rio’s eyes drag over your figure, “You look perfect, but if wardrobe is a big thing for you, I can take care of that.”

With your hand in her’s it’s hard to hide your blush. You can see the cocky smile on her face already forming.

“Let’s just go,” you avert your gaze from her.

With a snap of her fingers you’re at a restaurant table. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s nice enough to make you wish you’d changed.

“Worrying about your clothes and not having any questions about how you are on Earth again is pretty strange,” Rio whispers from across the table.

“Well in case you missed it I'm having dinner with Death. I feel like the rest is pretty self explanatory,” you toss back at her.

She sends you a lopsided smile, “Then you should trust me not to let you come to a place like this in a hoodie and jeans.”

You glare at her, “You said I looked perfect.”

You look down to find yourself in a more upscale outfit. Something that still felt soft and comfortable against your skin.

“You always look perfect to me,” she says it offhandedly, but there’s something there.

You don’t get a chance to answer before the waiter approaches the table. He’s speaking to you in French. Before you can work out what to say, Rio has ordered for the both of you and sent the waiter along with a joke that makes him chuckle.

“You speak French?”

“Honey I’m Death, I speak every language. Even the one’s that don’t exist anymore,” she teases you.

“So you remember forgotten languages, but not how your secretary died? Interesting.”

Rio pouts, “Did you ever tell me?”

You look at her slyly, “Maybe, maybe not? Shouldn’t you know regardless, I mean you were there.”

She rubs her temple, “I’m always there. For everyone.”

You take pity on her and sit back in your seat, getting a little more comfortable, “Tell me what you remember from when we first met.”

Rio recounts some details, “I remember that your soul was going to purgatory.”

You hum.

She continues, “You had to be wearing that hoodie. You literally wear it almost every day so I'm assuming it sentimental.”

You nod, “I was wearing the hoodie.”

Rio looks in your eyes, “Did you save someone?”

Your eyes turn a little glossy, “I’d like to think I did, but I died before I really knew for sure.”

The conversation doesn’t progress any further before the food comes. You’re grateful for the break. The two of you eat with lighter small talk sprinkled throughout the dinner.

When you’re done Rio pays and you leave the restaurant. You walk the streets together enjoying the fresh air on your skin. You don't remember the last time you felt it.

Rio’s hand slips into yours at some point. She’s cold, but that's nothing new. You always found her cool skin comforting.

She’s lead you to a small park. The wo of you sit on a bench. Her hand doesn't let go of yours.

“I remember now,” she breaks the silence.

You let out a heavy sigh, “A little brutal, but I did it to myself, I guess.”

Her eyes bore into yours, “No, you didn’t. You did it to save his life.”

You close your eyes to stop the tears from falling. You turn away from her. It might not help, but you can’t help it as you whisper, “Did I save him?”

It was a question you never knew the answer to. Something that haunted you relentlessly. Did you act fast enough to save your son?

“You did.”

Squeezing your eyes closed didn’t stop the tears from falling. He was okay. You had always hoped that when you pushed him out of the way, he survived. Part of you was skeptical, maybe you pushed him to hard or maybe it wasn’t fast enough. Hell maybe there was another car driving the wrong way on the one-way street.

“I always wondered if I had been quick enough,” there’s a small patch of relief in your voice.

“Life can be such a mysterious thing sometimes,” Rio murmurs.

You wipe at some of your tears, “Why do you say that?”

Rio gently lifts your face, just enough to swipe away your tears with the pad of her thumb, “I lost my son too.”

Your eyes soften for her, “You had a son?”

Rio smiles sadly, “Nicky was only 6 when I lost him.”

“Did you have to-”

She chuckles bitterly, “Of course, I did. I tried to make it as pleasant as possible for him. On the inside it felt like I was dying all over again. His mother never forgave me. I lost everything in one foul swoop.”

Everything is silent for a moment. There’s a heaviness blanketed over the both of you. Yet there is also some comfort knowing that neither of you is alone in this experience. She knows how you feel, and you know how she feels. Two sides of the same coin, with loss as the common denominator.

“I’m sorry, didn’t know that dinner would end in so many negative emotions,” you attempt to joke.

Rio leans into you, “Usually all the trauma comes long after the first date, but we’ve known each other awhile now.”

“Date, I thought you said it was dinner?”

She gets even closer, smiling when you don't back away, “Well it’s just dinner unless we kiss. If we kiss, then it’s date.”

“Is that so?”

Her eyes dart to your lips, “Last time I checked.”

This time you lean in, “Then what are you waiting for."

She doesn’t waste any time planting her lips against yours. It surprises you to find out her lips are warm. They’re plush like as the carefully mix with yours. You could lose yourself to the sensation.

“You know we could kiss forever. Neither of us need oxygen,” Rio breaks the kiss.

“Then why'd you stop?” You whine.

Rio kisses your cheek, “Because I'm a gentle woman, and this is the first date.”

“Well you have a gap around 2pm tomorrow. Let’s do lunch,” you suggest.

Rio smirks, “Trying to speed up the process, so you can get into my pants?”

You send her coy smile, “And if I was?”

Rio stands from the bench extending her hand to you, “Then I’d say I’m excited for our lunch date.”

You take her hand and she pulls you into her side. Her arm drapes over your shoulder. You nuzzle into her warmth.

“Me too.”

[rowdyluv]

Believe in Me — jh86

summary: in which the summer following Jack’s rookie year is coming to an end. Not only did his rookie year come with being shafted by the league as the biggest bust, but he managed to get painted as the biggest (and newest) playboy of the league. His personal management team, the team’s management, and PR step in to clear this all up, but it takes work from Jack.

warnings/points of importance: use of y/n, fem!reader x jack, use of nicknames for female character and for Jack, fake dating trope, oblivious pining trope(?), childhood friends, minor usage of foul language, creation of side original characters for plot, time jumps, memories inserted - tumblr’s intention and italics used to notate, inner thoughts marked with ‘..’ and italicized if they occur

word count: 4.32

notes: any names used for original characters that relate to someone’s name or closely relate to a person’s name is purely by happenstance. The names were rolled by random from a generator where I inserted random first and last names.

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the worn wooden planks of the back porch swing, her eyes following the lazy dance of the sunset as it descended behind the distant tree line. Her childhood home had changed so little over the years, the same comforting embrace of familiarity wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a chilly evening. The porch swing squeaked in a soothing rhythm as both her and Jack slowly swung, a nostalgic tune that had serenaded countless summer nights spent sharing secrets and laughter with Jack. The only other kid who had been in her grade when she moved in, well really one of the only other neighborhood children. The other two children in the neighborhood were his brothers. All three of which had become as much a part of her life as the very foundation of the house she grew up in.

She had spent all day out with his family by the pool, her mother insisted he come to their house for dinner though. Nothing to offer course for their life, well a year ago it wouldn’t have been.

"Do you want to talk about your new headline?" Y/n tried to hold back the hint of amusement in her tone but failed miserably. Jack's rookie season had just come to an end before the beginning of summer. In just a few months he had gone from the talk of the league as the number one draft pick to talk of the league as a "bust."

He was nothing close to a bust. It was just how the year fell.

Jack leaned back in the swing, the sun's final strokes of light for the day painting his cheekbones. He sighed; a heavy exhale filled with the weight of the rumors that had been following him like a dark shadow. "It's just how it's going to be now. You know how it is with the media. They're desperate to find a new angle to keep me going." There were a few moments of silence shared between them before he found the words to continue. "First, it's all about my game, how I'm not scoring enough or I'm not this hotshot star that every analyst built me up to be. Season ends and it's about my supposed love life." His voice was a mix of annoyance and defeat. He was used to being the center of attention, truthfully he strived to be in the center of attention. He just wasn't used to it always being negative attention.

"To be it all, I have this video chat meeting with public relations, franchise management, and my management team about some idea they have come up with to help bring attention away from everything." Jack groaned. "We have three days left of the summer before we drive back to Jersey, I don't want to spend one of them in meetings."

Y/n nodded sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his forearm and leaning herself over on him. "It's okay, bubs. Maybe it's nothing too serious." But she could tell from the furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched and the tension in his voice that he was already aware of what they had come up with. Or at least he had an idea. She didn't dare pry, they may be best friends, but Jack was clearly not ready to share his thoughts. "And... If it is serious I will be in Jersey this season to help you through it."

Jack gave her a grateful smile before standing up from the porch swing, stretching his arms out wide. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry about it tonight." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, a gesture that was as commonplace as breathing between the two of them. "Thanks for the pep talk, toots." He said, using the childhood nickname that never failed to make her smile despite the circumstances. "I should head back down the street to my parent's place. It's getting late."

As he turned to leave, the rising moon cast a cool glow over the yard, highlighting the tall blades of grass that danced with the intermittent breeze. Y/n watched him go, her mind racing with the implications of what might happen at that during his meeting tomorrow. Would they really suggest something so ridiculous? And if they did, how would Jack handle it?

Jack's footsteps grew fainter until they were swallowed by the night. The house, once alive with the echoes of their laughter, now felt eerily quiet. Y/n remained seated out on the swing, her thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of doubt and concern. She knew Jack was strong, capable of taking on any challenge thrown his way, but the thought of him being manipulated into some scheme to save the face of the Devils franchise made her sick. Then she thought, what if they didn't call a meeting to manipulate him into anything? What if it's simply to offer suggestions on what he can do differently going forward?

Y/n eventually shut that portion of her brain off and headed inside herself. A long hot shower and her bed was calling her name.

The next day Jack sat in his father's home office, the room smelling faintly of cologne and leather, waiting for the others to join the video call. The space was a testament to his father's success, filled with trophies and framed newspaper articles from his own days as a star player and coach. It was both inspiring and daunting, a constant reminder of the legacy he and his brothers were trying to live up to. The computer screen flickered to life, displaying a Zoom call with a row of faces, some familiar, some not. His management team, PR reps, and a couple of team officials stared back at him, all expectant and poised.

Jack leaned back in the chair, his casual attire feeling woefully inadequate among the suits and professional backgrounds of his callers. He had taken his mother's advice and dressed comfortably, but now he wished he had at least put on a button-up shirt. He glanced down at his New Jersey Devils t-shirt, the logo stretched slightly across his chest. It was a fan favorite, one that had been thrown at him in excitement by a young fan at a game. It felt like a piece of armor, a symbol of his pride and commitment to the team, but today it just made him feel like he was the kid, and he was playing dress-up in his dad's old gear.

The meeting began with a round of forced smiles and awkward greetings. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/n's words from the night before echoed in his mind, a comforting whisper amidst the storm of uncertainty. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whoever their absurd suggestion be his girlfriend when they had conjured up the fake relationship idea to "fix" his image.

"Jack, before we start, do you remember the guidelines I told you for this relationship or should we go over them again with everyone here?" The voice was cold and calculated, belonging to one of the stern-faced PR reps. Her eyes bore into him through the screen, demanding his full attention.

Jack's stomach lurched. He had hoped they would just come right out with what was new, news. "I think everyone is aware of what we're trying to achieve here, but please go ahead," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay.

The stern-faced public relations rep, Ms. Castellanos, nodded curtly. "Good. So, the first guideline is that you two must be seen together at least three times a week. This includes public appearances such as dates, her being seen attending your games, and even casual outings like grocery shopping or walking the dog. That is if you or her have one."

Jack's eyes widened slightly, glancing down at his half empty coffee mug. He didn't have a dog, but he still didn't know who this girl they paired him up with was. Plus, he didn't know if Y/n had picked up any new hobbies involving pets in her last year of college. It was never mentioned during their weekly calls or on visits. It would be important to know that since she’s going to be living with him.

"Jack, are you listening?" The voice brought him back to the present, the sternness of Ms. Castellanos' tone was unmistakable.

Jack swallowed down the anxiety that was bubbling up inside him and nodded in acknowledgement.

Ms. Castellanos continued, "Guideline two, and perhaps the most important one, is that the relationship must appear genuine. You must exhibit believable public affection and body language. This means holding hands, occasional kisses on the cheek, maybe a few on the lips if the situation calls for it. As for body language," the stone-cold lady stopped speaking, watching Jack carefully once more. "You're both young, attractive, and in the public eye. If you lean into each other, have your arms around each other's waist, or even occasionally rest your head on her shoulder, it'll look natural and convincing. The media will eat it up, and your image will be transformed from a lonely heartthrob to a lovestruck boyfriend in no time."

Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, the thought of faking intimacy with someone he'd never met before was nerve-wracking, to say the least. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee, trying to imagine how awkward the first kiss would be. He had never been one for faking emotions, especially something as intimate as love.

Ms. Castellanos continued, her voice unforgiving. "Guideline four is critical. The relationship must end with your girlfriend, and I stress this, must be the one to initiate the breakup. It should be done publicly and dramatically enough to make headlines, but not so much that it causes a scandal." She paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. "You cannot under any circumstances leave her. If it looks like you're the one who ended things, it'll only add fuel to the fire of your reputation. You need to be seen as the heartbroken party, the victim of a fickle heart. It'll humanize you, make you more relatable to the fans."

Jack felt his jaw clench at the coldness of the plan. He had agreed to a fake relationship to get the media off his back, but this was starting to feel like a script for a reality TV show gone wrong. "And what happens if we... I mean, if she gets tired of the whole thing?" He stumbled over his words, trying to maintain some semblance of respect for the stranger he was about to be romantically linked with.

"Ah, that's where guideline five comes into play," said Ms. Castellanos, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of her own cleverness. "We've prepared a non-disclosure agreement that she will be signing before the relationship begins. It's quite comprehensive and includes clauses for breaking it off in a controlled manner. She'll understand her role in this, Jack."

Jack's grip tightened around his coffee mug, the cheap porcelain feeling fragile under his thumb. "But who is she?" he repeated, his voice a little louder, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Ms. Castellanos' smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Her name is Elena Petrov," she said smoothly. "A local influencer with a clean reputation. She's been briefed on the situation and has agreed to help. She's a fan of the team and understands the importance of this for your career."

"No." Jack huffed out. gaining the attention of everyone on the call. Just the same as Jack, everyone else barely stayed tuned into her annoying voice. "She is the reason I am in this shit hole. Her friend is the last girl I was with. Elena took all the pictures. Maggie? A little help here." Jack pleaded with the IT media girl that for some miraculous reason was sitting in on the call.

"Oh. Uhm, yes. It took me days to get the pictures she put up taken down. And Mr. Hughes, we were able to prove they were edited after looking closer at them," Maggie spoke up, her voice shaky, probably from fear of interrupting the woman that could potentially ruin their lives with a tweet.

Ms. Castellanos' eyes darted from Jack to Maggie and back again, her displeasure clear. "Jack, this is non-negotiable. This is what's best for your career right now. You need to be seen as more than just a party boy. The sooner you start this relationship with Elena, the sooner we can start repairing your image," she said, her voice like a whip cracking through the tension in the room.

Jack's manager, Mr. Taylor, cleared his throat before speaking up, his tone measured and calm. "Perhaps there's another option we haven't considered. What about Y/n?" he suggested, glancing at Jack, who looked up at him, hope flickering in his eyes.

Ms. Castellanos raised an eyebrow. "Your childhood friend?" She sounded skeptical, but the video stream grew quiet, all eyes on Jack.

Jack nodded, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. "Yeah, Y/n. We've been best friends since middle school. Everyone already thinks we're together. It'll be believable, and she's... she's not in the spotlight like Elena is. It'll keep things more low-key." He swallowed, hoping he wasn't about to ruin their friendship.

Ms. Castellanos leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "Very well, Jack. We'll consider it. But you need to talk to her and make sure she's on board with this. The last thing we need is for her to spill the beans and ruin the whole charade."

Jack nodded, his heart racing. He knew Y/n would do anything for him but asking her to be his fake girlfriend was a big ask. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have. After the call ended, he let out a guttural groan due to frustration. He needed to go shoot some basketball or pucks before he talked Y/n, but he didn't have that time to waste. Instead of blowing off some of his stress he slipped on some shoes, kissed his momma goodbye, and headed out to the house he has visited time and time again.

The warm afternoon air was a major contrast to the coldness of the conversation he had just had. The streetlights flickered to life as Jack approached Y/n's house, the familiar path to her door as comforting as ever. He stopped in front of the door, the color of her door had changed since last summer, but the memories that lie behind it remained the same.

Jack took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock, the sound echoing through his head. Only thing on his mind was the conversation they were about to have. Jack flinched as he realized how hard and urgent he had beat on her mother’s front door. His heart thudded against his chest, partially with the anticipation of her reaction to the proposal and because of how quickly he had walked down the block. Jack took a deep breath in an urgent need to calm himself and appear as normal as possible before he was face to face with her.

Before he could finish his internal mantra of calming himself, the front door swung open in a rush. He was slightly hoping it would somehow be one of her relatives, but there she was, looking up at him with her soft, hopeful eyes. Her hair messily tossed into a messy bun atop her head and a sprinkle of fresh freckles danced across her nose from spending the day in the sun with his family yesterday. She was wearing the momentous hoodie that he had gifted her before leaving last summer. A hoodie that held a lot in its threads for the two of them. For her, it now held a lot of silent screams and wiped away tears from the last year, but it still held their joint memories.

‘It originally had become Jack’s superstitious hoodie for a while. The lucky hoodie he would wear all the way up to when he would change for warm ups, then she would wear it. This superstition developed during the years of world juniors. The year he brought home the Gold, the superstition shifted. Jack had a “girlfriend” that entire season and she wasn’t fond of the idea of Jack and Y/n swapping clothes like they did. The games with the development program were when she noticed this happening. She confronted Y/n about having a useless crush on her boyfriend and she would be taking over wearing his hoodie from then on. Jack didn’t take lightly to it, that was his best friend, his biggest non-family supporter. So, he decided y/n would wear the hoodie the entire time, from the time they all got dressed for the day to after the game. Now, it’s hers entirely, his decision since he couldn’t be here for her and live out his dream. He wanted her to have a piece of him, but if be a piece of them. Once again, it has become her comfort item as it has been back then.’

She fiddled with the stretched out sleeves hanging over left hand anxiously as her right hand was still grasping the door knob.

"How was your meeting?" The words fell from her lips so fast she hadn't taken a moment to invite him inside. Y/n had sat out on the porch swing all morning waiting to hear from him. Seeing him now ignited her anxiety and her need to know.

Jack let out a simple laugh at her eagerness to know. He softly touched her side, giving a slight nudge as if to signal her to walk backwards into the house.

The coolness of the air conditioning kissing his skin. "It was... interesting," he said, his voice a mix of relief and dread.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She walked a few steps backwards with his guidance to allow him in, the old floorboards creaking under their weight. "Interesting as in good or interesting bad?"

Jack shrugged, his smile wavering as he let go of her and made his way into the living room. The same room where they had spent hours playing video games, watching movies, doing homework.

—Could he ask her to do this? What if it blows up in their faces and ruins everything. What if he ruins her? He’d never be able to live with himself for hurting her.

The couch looked inviting, but he knew better than to sit down without spilling his guts. "Well, it’s one of those ‘depends on how you take it’ interesting type situations..." he trailed off, his eyes wandering around the room.

Y/n looked at him, her eyebrows rising in a questioning manner. Her eyes were filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. She could read the hesitancy written all across him. Starting with wanting to open up about his meeting. Which is something he's never had an issue with, at least with her, to not wanting to sit down. Almost as if, if he got too comfortable he would tell too much.

Taking a hold of his hand, rubbing her thumb over his palm she leaned her head on his upper arm. A common gesture between them. “Jackers?” She whispered so softly, he nearly missed it. He hummed in response coming out from where he drifted off too. She took a hold of his hand and softly pulled him down to take a seat on the couch with her.

“Jackers, just tell me. Did they come up with something ridiculous?"

Jack let out a small laugh , the sound hollow and forced. "Ridiculous doesn't even begin to cover it," he whined, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "They want me to start a fake relationship with someone who I know is not going to help me. Then my manager suggested someone who would be great and I was for it because we already know each other but.." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction.

Y/n let go of his hand, in an unnatural reaction as they have been platonically physical since high school, "A fake relationship?" she echoed that one snippet. “With.. With who? Since I’ll be living with you I should be prepared for a new girl even if she is a fake girlfriend.”

Jack took a deep breath and looked up at her, his eyes filled with a desperation she had never seen before. "Toots, I really don't know what to do about this. PR decided on Elena Petrov. B—”

“You mean the friend of the bitch who started this mess? No I’m sorry the two who started this mess? You’re going to pounce around all lovey with the girl who put you here?!” Y/n’s chest heaved up and down heavily. She watched Jack’s face twist in annoyance then soften.

“If you had let me finish… I flat out said no. I will not and am not going to do this plan with her. When I told everyone on the call right then that I wouldn’t, my manager suggested someone else. But I don’t know if they’ll do it. They seem pretty disappointed in me…” Jack kept his voice even and didn’t raise it. He knew how you felt about being yelled at and he couldn’t be the one to cause a panic attack because he got a little upset.

“Well, who did they suggest? Maybe I can help. As long as it’s not Elena..”

“They suggested you. They asked me if I thought you would do it or if I would like you to do it with me. But if you're upset or disappointed, I'll tell them no right now," Jack explained, his voice a low rumble of uncertainty. He started fishing his phone out of his pocket in case he had to call his manager.

Y/n felt her throat tighten as a knot formed, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had always been there for Jack, and he for her, but this was something entirely different. This was a line they hadn’t truly crossed, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to pretend to cross it again. "Jack, I..." she murmured looking down at her hands in her lap, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, I'll do it."

Jack's head snapped to look at her, his eyes failing to meet hers as she’s staring down, though a spark of hope igniting within him still. "You will?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions. "Yeah, I'll do it," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "For you, I'll do it."

Jack's shoulders slumped with relief. He reached out to lift her head hesitantly so that he could meet her eyes with his. His eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, management can figure it out.”

Y/n forced a smile and nodding her head yes, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. The thrill of being able to go and do things with Jack was nice, but the dread of being scrutinized by females she didn’t know was already gnawing at her. "Besides, it's only for a couple of months, right?"

Jack's smile didn't part to show his teeth, it stayed tight lipped, evident he wasn't as enthused as his tone of voice was letting on. "Yup! Just for a couple of months."

"Okay, we can totally pull this off. It will be like playing pretend, remember?" She nudged him with her elbow, trying to lighten the mood with a memory from their childhood. More so for herself than him.

"You mean like when we got married under that old oak tree at my grandparents' house in the summer between sixth and seventh grade?" Jack nudged her back.

"Yup when you only agreed to get pretend married so you could get your first kiss."

She let a little giggle slip out as she reminisced on the memory of her and Jack as kids under the oak tree.

A young Jack with his signature smirk standing at the ‘altar’ with the “preacher Luke”. Jack didn’t wait for Luke to do his part of the pretend wedding he skipped straight to the kiss. ‘Couldn’t wait tootsie I was just wanting my 1st’

"If I remember correctly that was your first kiss too, and you asked for another one because of the ‘belly flies’." Jack teased her enjoying seeing her cheeky smile and blush creeping up on to her cheeks.

Y/n’s laughter echoed loudly through the room. "Jack Hughes, you are such a jerk!" She said playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jack laughed echoing her laughter. "So, do we have an agreement? You'll be okay with fake dating me, even though we never got fake divorced?"

Y/n shook her head yes once again, while rolling her eyes at the boy next to her. “Yes, Jackers. Even though you never fake divorced me, I will fake date you.”

If she only knew that Jack was silently and brutally beating himself up for this. They were in for a roller coaster of chaos and changes.

Now that he had secured one portion of the agreement, he has footwork left in figuring out how to get out of the hoops and twists. Like how to get out of that very public break up after a few months into dating. He wasn’t going to make her out to be some bitch she’s not.

And if Jack has it his way, they won’t be breaking up and it won’t be a “fake” relationship for long either.

Because Jack Hughes is hopelessly in love with his best friend. If he has any luck, besides puck luck, she loves him too.

notes 2.0: hello! welcome to my newest mini series, believe in me i hope you enjoyed the first part of the series. i am always open to kindly put creative criticism. i truly appreciate all of the continued support by reading, liking, & reblogging! thank you thank you!

[redr0sewrites]

Arcane request time!

I'd love to request an Arcane woman x sub! male reader smut one shot. As I'm unsure of their sexualities I'll let you choose your favorite if that's okay with you.

🥀A/n: WOO!!! why did i lowkey base this off of monster by lady gaga.... 😭 anyways i love this req sm. i decided to do Ambessa for this request bc she's so fine and i havent written anything for her (please survive the season pookie) ♥️

🥀Cw: smut, sub!male!reader, dirty talk, kinda fluffy tbh, sleepy sex, overal filth

🥀Character(s): Ambessa x male!reader

🥀minors dni

waking up next to Ambessa is a rare experience. more often than not, she's busy with work or diplomacy, so you cherish the mornings you get to spend wrapped in her arms.

today was one of those instances, and you awoke to your lover just a few inches away from you, her curls sprawled across the satin pillowcase and a muscular arm tucked over your body. the usual furrow between her brow was relaxed, and the tense creases of her face were smoothed by blissful slumber. she looked like a goddess, and the warm sun peaking in through the window only amplified her beauty.

suddenly, Ambessa shifts, the mattress rippling beneath her as she groans. she never does stay asleep for long, it's practically in her nature to be an early riser. she stretches, pulling you in closer and tucking her head atop yours. you find yourself nuzzled against her bare collarbone, suddenly aware of the fact that your lover slept completely nude. she continues to stir, still groggy from sleep.

"i could feel you staring..." she rasps, pulling away to look you in the eyes. there is a rare, genuine smirk on her face, and her surprisingly light mood is infectious. you only giggle at her remark, and she rolls herself on top of you, pinning you down against the sheets.

"whatever happened to good morning? have i fallen in love with a delinquent?" Ambessa mocks you, but theres a playful hint in her rough voice that only draws you in.

"maybe you did..." you murmur, and Ambessa leans down to whisper in your ear. your acutely aware of her muscular body on top of yours, and the way her firm, weathered hands find purchase on your body. "it seems theres a monster in my bed," she purrs, one hand cups your face and supports her weight with her elbow while the other rubs teasing circles onto your hip. "does this monster need to be taught a lesson in manners?"

"i'd say my manners are just fine, thank you," you tease, and Ambessa hums thoughtfully. "i suppose another lesson wouldn't hurt now, would it?" she whispers, before pinning your hands above your head in one swift movement.

you open your mouth to protest, but your met with her tongue sliding between your lips as she enraptures you in a filthy french kiss. blood rushes to your cock as she spreads your legs with targeted accuracy, sliding a firm thigh between them. the only barrier between your skin and hers is the boxers you fell asleep in, and a small stain is beginning to form from the precum coating your tip.

you gasp against her mouth, her powerful form cages you in as your back arches. the slightest friction is applied to the tip of your leaking dick as it rubs against her thigh, and you whine sinfully. Ambessa pulls away to admire you, leaving a thin trail of spit connecting your lips in her wake.

"oh, darling, you look good enough to eat," Ambessa croons, sucking a dark mark into the skin just above your collarbone. she wastes no time in tearing your boxers off, leaving you completely bare beneath her. your cock springs up against your abdomen, already hard. calloused hands travel across your body, one gripping firmly onto your thigh and the other rolling your nipple between two fingers. you moan at the stimulation, but Ambessa shushes you as she crawls down between your legs.

your heart pounds against your ribcage as Ambessa blows hot air against your leaking cock, watching as you twitch with arousal. a firm hand applies pressure to your navel, keeping your hips pinned to the bed as she takes your tip in her mouth.

"o-oh!" you moan, throwing your head back against the pillows. Ambessa smirks, swirling her tongue against your sensitive cock head while bringing one hand to massage your balls. the stimulation is intoxicating, and the only thing keeping you from bucking into her throat is the large hand keeping your hips pinned against the mattress. the coil in your abdomen begins to tighten as she continues her ministrations, massaging the base of your cock and balls with her free hand.

"please.." you whine, thighs clenching around her head as your cock twitches in her mouth. Ambessa hums, sending vibrations traveling up your spine as you begin to descend into ecstasy. however, just as you begin to reach the peak of your pleasure, she pulls away, leaving your cock twitching against your abdomen.

"why'd you stop?" you whine, pushing your hips out towards her, hoping to entice Ambessa into taking you into her mouth again. she only gives you a throaty laugh, before crawling up to straddle you.

"did you seriously think i'd let you cum that easily?"

this is kinda short but whatevsss its done‼️ sorru the ending is so ass buuut i just didn't know how to end it 😭 anyways, hope yall enjoyed, pls feel free to request more! im soooo happy classes and finals r over and i get to have more free time to write and draw ♥️♥️♥️

[fairsexynasty]

ˏ🔪ˋ°•*⁀➷･ GHOST MOUTH — chapter one: get out and get into heaven

.｡🗡️*⋆⍋*🃏*｡ spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: a new inhabitant? tenant? roommate? you're still not sure how this works. but there's someone new living in your apartment: spencer reid. how is he going to react to a ghost?

warnings: humor, platonic fluff, angst, drug usage, addiction...

a/n: love a good female character who literally haunts the narrative... but it's your narrative... so are you living it...? but you're dead....? like and reblog if you enjoy and don't forget, requests are open!

word count: 4.2k

JUNE 23, 2005.

I don’t remember buying this apartment. Or decorating it. Or signing the lease, for that matter. But apparently, I lived here.

Now, I just haunt it.

It’s strange, being stuck in a place you’re supposed to know but don’t. Like waking up in someone else’s skin. The furniture’s vaguely familiar—like seeing an actor who played a minor role in a movie you liked once—but the memories aren’t there to fill in the gaps.

Rachel makes it easier. Most days, anyway. She’s perched on the couch tonight, wine glass in hand, a throw blanket draped over her like a cape. “Okay, so get this,” she says, her voice dipping conspiratorially. “He texts me every morning. Like, without fail. Good morning, good night—it’s adorable.”

I hover near the window, watching her face light up as she gushes about this guy, Theo. He’s the latest in a string of hopefuls, but this one seems different. Genuine. “You think he’s the real deal?” I ask, trying not to sound like I’m bracing for impact.

“I do.” Rachel practically glows. “He’s thoughtful. Funny. And he actually listens. Can you believe it?”

I can’t. Or maybe I don’t want to. If she finds her happily-ever-after, where does that leave me?

"So, yeah, he's great," Rachel was saying, voice warm and confident. She was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her as she swirled the wine in her glass. "I don't know, it's like I finally found someone who gets it, you know?"

I watched her, biting back the sharp tug of something—jealousy? Longing? Whatever it was, it gnawed at me, and I couldn’t ignore it. Rachel had started dating this guy recently. She'd told me about him a couple of times. Each time, I couldn't help but feel like... well, like I was losing her, in a way. I didn't want to admit it, even to myself, but the thought of her moving on without me—of her living a life I wouldn't be a part of—felt like it was breaking something inside of me.

I didn't say anything, of course. I never did. What was I supposed to say? The girl was talking about her future with some guy who was clearly making her happy, and here I was—dead, ghosting around her apartment, just... existing.

She didn't need me anymore. I couldn't tell her I was scared. I couldn't tell her I felt like I was slipping away, like the life I remembered was fading fast and I had nothing left to hold onto. Rachel had a future to live. I... I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to do with what little I had left.

I just kept my distance, lingering in the corner of the room, watching as she sighed and took another sip of her wine.

It wasn’t the worst thing, I told myself. It wasn’t like I had to keep reminding her I was here. It wasn’t like I had a purpose anymore. I had no idea why I couldn’t move on, no idea how I died or what my life had been before it all fell apart. The only thing that seemed real anymore was the fact that Rachel still let me be here, let me talk to her in the little ways I could.

And that, for now, would have to be enough.

“He’s got this dorky laugh, too,” she continues, oblivious. “It’s cute. Like, ugly-cute. You know what I mean?”

I nod, even though she’s not looking. I know exactly what she means. What I don’t know is what happens when this man goes from “guy she’s seeing” to something more permanent. Does she stop needing her wine-and-gossip buddy? Does she stop needing me?

I shake off the thought. It’s not fair to Rachel. She deserves a shot at happiness, with or without me haunting her living room.

Still, the idea twists in my chest like a knife.

She laughs at something on her phone and reaches for her wine. “Anyway, enough about me. How was your day?”

I give her my best deadpan. “Unproductive. Again. Shocker.”

Rachel grins. “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Will I?

I glance at the TV, where the menu flickers with mindless options. Maybe I will. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, I’m here. Stuck. For as long as this world lets me be seen, I’ll keep showing up.

Because what else can I do?

NOVEMBER 27th, 2006

One could say that I was currently, extremely upset. But that would be an understatement. I was fucking pissed. What do you do when your favorite resident of your haunted apartment moves out? After three years of watching over her, getting to know her, and eventually making yourself known to her– how do you start over? How do you haunt someone new?

Rachel was the one thing that kept me busy. She gave me more than enough reason to wander out of the apartment and practice the ability to leave the building. I’m not agoraphobic, I’m just trapped. And dead.

I can’t say exactly why I can leave some days and am stuck the others. It takes a lot of energy from me, so much so that I can feel myself disappearing from Rachel’s sight. The overstimulating feelings stick themselves in my joints, leaving me rugged and lapsed energetically. I don’t know what it is. I can’t name it.

I can’t even tell you where the hell my body is or what happened to me. It sucks. Not knowing where you end up or how it happens after living a life where people come up with endless theories about it. You’d think that one of the many ideas has to be accurate, and you’ve either been living your life all right or wrong.  But I couldn’t tell you. I can’t make sense of it myself.

Rachel understood that. She spent her Sunday nights with me, cooking in the kitchen, playing my favorite songs I’d request, and sipping on her favorite bottle of Noir while I vented, told stories, or just rambled. I never had a best friend like her. Not while I was alive, that’s for sure.

Talking about myself in the past tense is another tricky part of being a ghost. Yes, I am dead, and I may not know where my corpse is or how I died, but I still exist. My soul is alive, so am I still a being? Is it “I am” or “I was”? We could look at it from a technical point of view. I currently offer no value to the world around me. I cannot contribute or benefit from my environment in any way possible unless you count Rachel. I cannot eat, sleep, or drink. I can still learn, I can experience, and I can feel. But I cannot disrupt the environment around me. So, by that knowledge, that makes me… still confused. I’m not smart enough to find a solution here. I took one ethics class in college, and even then, we only talked about poverty. I don’t understand quantum mechanics, and I believe in the supernatural. It doesn’t make me a credible source.

However, through all the (lack of) noise, I’ve discovered my new friend might be a credible source: Dr. Spencer Reid. It might take him a couple of months to see me, but for Rachel, it took me a year. But I have more faith in myself now.

My new friend is moving in today. November 27th, 2006, three years, seven months, and eleven days since this apartment was mine.

I can hear him coming up the stairs. A couple of mutters are in the background, so I assume he has people helping him move in. Great. More people to take up my space. I’ll probably find myself sitting on the kitchen counter the entire time while I psychotically stare at him. The doorknob wiggles and then clicks, a sign Spencer’s successfully used his key for the first time.

The door creaks open, and Spencer's voice filters in before his lanky figure even makes it through. “Okay, let’s just leave everything in the box until we bring the rest up, and then we can move the furni—oh.” He freezes mid-step, eyes locking onto mine. “Um… hello there.”

He looks like someone just handed him a live grenade and politely asked him to hold it. His friends? Oblivious. A gorgeous, sharp-eyed woman with dark hair and a towering, muscular man with rich brown skin saunter in behind him, oblivious to my presence.

“Who are you?” Spencer blurts.

I raise an eyebrow from my very cozy sprawl on the couch Rachel left behind—one leg draped dramatically over the plush velvet arm. “Oh, so you can see me,” I purr, enjoying his squirm. “How delightful.”

Spencer’s jaw works, but no sound escapes. Meanwhile, his friends exchange concerned looks like they’re debating calling a medic.

“Uh, Spence?” The woman—let’s call her Sexy Boss Barbie—tilts her head, her voice dripping with skepticism. “Who, exactly, are you talking to?”

Spencer points to me, his face a mix of confusion and terror. “Her!”

The man snorts, folding his arms like he’s humoring a toddler with an imaginary friend. “Kid, there’s no one there. Are you feeling okay? Dizzy? Dehydrated? Seeing, you know, stuff?”

“I’m fine! Are you okay? Do you not see the woman lounging on the couch?!” Spencer’s voice rises an octave, clearly distressed. “She’s waving!”

I sit up, slowly, brushing imaginary lint off my clothes. “Spencer, darling,” I say with a smirk, “they can’t see me. To them, you sound completely unhinged. Certifiable. Just batshit crazy.”

Sexy Boss Barbie’s eyes widen suddenly, as if the final piece of a years-long puzzle has just clicked into place. “Oh my god.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “It’s real. The rumors were true!”

“What rumors?” Spencer snaps, panic edging into his voice.

“The ghosts!” She throws her hands up, spinning to the muscular guy. “There’s been all this buzz about hauntings and poltergeists, and I heard they asked Fiona Caulins and her spooky little team to investigate. I thought it was a prank!”

The guy groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Prentiss, you’re telling me the FBI is officially ghost-hunting now? Do we get proton packs, or is that too much taxpayer money?”

Prentiss—because clearly she has a name now—waves dismissively at him and turns to me with the same enthusiasm as someone meeting a celebrity. “Hi, ghost! Please don’t murder my friend, he’s very nice, smart, and has a soft heart. Also, I’m too tired for a paranormal brawl.”

I narrow my eyes at Spencer, just to make him squirm a little more. “Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you.”

His gasp is chef’s kiss levels of comedic. “Please don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

“Emily,” the guy warns, sounding like the parent of the world’s most reckless child.

Spencer waves a hand awkwardly at me, trying to keep his composure. “I’m just going to assume you’re joking. For my own sanity. Because being kind is important. Even if you’re, you know…” He gestures vaguely toward me. “…dead.”

The guy throws up his hands and makes a beeline for the door. “You know what, Pretty Boy? Nope. I’m out. I’ll grab the rest of your boxes, but I am not dealing with Casper’s pissed-off cousin.”

“I’m not haunting,” I clarify, even though his retreating footsteps suggest he doesn’t care.

Prentiss steps closer, her eyes sparkling with the kind of curiosity that spells trouble. “Maybe you’re stuck here,” she offers helpfully, gesturing to my general direction like she’s presenting an exhibit at a haunted museum. “Are you stuck here?”

I shrug. “No clue.”

“She doesn’t know,” Spencer parrots, clearly regretting his life choices.

“But I don’t mind it,” I add cheerfully.

“She doesn’t mind it,” Spencer echoes, his face a study in pure, resigned chaos.

By the time all of his belongings are finally moved in, I’ve become an unofficial connoisseur of Spencer’s panicked glances. Every other moment, our eyes meet, and he looks like someone just told him Santa Claus isn’t real—or, in this case, that ghosts are. He’s clearly grappling with the idea, the gears in his brain probably spinning so fast they might combust. I mean, he’s a doctor. A man of science, logic, and reason. Ghosts? That’s the kind of thing that could either utterly shatter his worldview or send him spiraling into some kind of quantum physics rabbit hole. Probably both.

Emily and Derek—whose names I picked up during their bickering about me (I’m already a hot topic, apparently)—finally call it a night as the sun dips below the horizon. There’s a brief exchange of goodbyes, Emily offering Spencer a quick “Call if you need me!” while Derek mutters something about sage and holy water under his breath.

Once the door clicks shut behind them, the apartment falls into an awkward quiet. Spencer stands there for a moment, staring at the closed door as if considering bolting out of it himself. Eventually, he turns, slowly, to find me perched on the kitchen counter, swinging my legs.

His mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again. He’s clearly malfunctioning. “I, uh—”

I hold up a hand to stop him, smiling. “Let me make this easier for you. I’ll set some ground rules, okay?” His eyes widen, but I plow ahead. “First, I promise I won’t distract you unless you explicitly ask me to. Second, I’m not going to walk into the bathroom while you’re in there—because, seriously, why would I? Third, if you bring someone over—or if you’re already seeing someone—I’ll clear out and head downstairs. Lastly, I can leave this apartment, but leaving the building? That’s… a work in progress.”

Spencer blinks at me, stunned into silence. He doesn’t move for a beat, then nods. It’s the kind of nod you give when someone hands you a parachute and says, you’re jumping now.

I smile at him. “Feel better?”

He clears his throat, and it’s like he’s rebooting in real time. “Well, um… ghosts.” His tone shifts, slipping into what I suspect is his comfort zone: pure academic lecture mode. “The belief in ghosts is deeply rooted in human history, spanning cultures and civilizations for thousands of years. For example, the ancient Egyptians believed in the ka, the soul, which stayed connected to the body after death—hence, mummification. Similarly, in Greek mythology, spirits, or shades, resided in the underworld but could occasionally wander the mortal realm if disturbed.”

I blink at him, genuinely impressed. “Wow. That’s… actually fascinating. How do you know all that?”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and I can read up to 20,000 words per minute.”

I stare at him, deadpan. “Okay, that is harder to believe than me being a ghost.”

He sighs, his expression softening. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in… all of this, I never even asked your name.”

“It’s fine,” I say with a little laugh. “And for the record, it’s nice to… coexist with you. So, uh, are you the tenant of my home, or am I the tenant of yours?”

That earns me a small, tentative smile from him, the first real one I’ve seen. “How about we just say we’re roommates for now?”

I chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “Roomies it is, Spencer.”

“Cool.” He says it with a nod like he’s trying the word out for the first time, and it’s paired with a shy smile that feels surprisingly genuine. “Roomies.”

FEBRUARY 13, 2007

Being “roomies” with Spencer isn’t what I expected at all. I thought it'd be a relief when I found out about his job—hunting serial criminals with his team, including Derek and Emily. I wouldn’t have to worry about being a constant bother since he’d be out on cases, gone for days or weeks at a time. But what I didn’t anticipate was this hollow ache, this new kind of loneliness creeping in.

With Rachel, there was a rhythm to our days. A routine. Something grounding that kept me tethered to whatever semblance of stability a ghost can have. But Spencer? Spencer is chaos wrapped in quiet. He comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders and disappears into his room, leaving me to drift through the empty spaces he leaves behind.

Sometimes, he’s so silent it unnerves me. He’ll come through the door after a long trip, his face drawn, and I’ll sit there, helpless, unsure if I should say something or just… vanish. What could I possibly do to help? I don’t know him well enough to give him meaningful advice. I can’t offer something as simple as a hug or even a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

But I watch him. I’ve learned his habits. The way he quietly checks on me as if I’m a lost pet instead of the spectral figure on his couch. The nights when he’s too tired to make it to bed, passing out on the couch instead. I’ll sit near him for a bit, just in case he wakes up from a nightmare. Watching over him makes me feel… useful, even if I can’t do much.

One night, I finally could.

It was after a case in Georgia. The night before he left, he’d been out drinking with his team, laughing and light in a way I hadn’t seen before. When he returned to grab his go-bag, there was a slight buzz to him—a looseness in his step and a rare smile. But he was gone within minutes, off to chase the darkness again.

When he came back a week later, he wasn’t the same.

The moment he walked through the door, I knew something was wrong. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every direction like he’d been clawing at it. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the cool air. His hands trembled as he locked the door—so slight, anyone else might’ve missed it. But I noticed.

“Hi,” I offered softly from the couch, not bothering with the usual pleasantries like How was the case? That felt pointless—or worse, like it might set him off.

He glanced at me briefly before his eyes darted away. “Hey,” he mumbled, his voice distant, hollow. He crossed the room to his bedroom door, hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m going to bed.” And just like that, he was gone. He didn’t even bother turning on the light for anything.

At around three in the morning, I heard it. Muffled groans that turned into sharp cries, then full-throated shouts. It was a raw, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. I rushed into his room, instinct taking over.

“Spencer!” I called, shaking his arm as gently as I could. My fingers brushed against his sweat-drenched skin, and I held on tighter, desperate to pull him out of whatever hell he was trapped in.

He woke with a gasp, his eyes wide and wild. For a moment, he didn’t even seem to see me. Then his gaze focused, softening just slightly. But then he noticed my hands on his arms and recoiled, shaking me off like I burned him.

“Why are you touching me?” he demanded, his voice sharp and panicked. “How are you touching me?”

I blinked, just as shocked as he was. “I—I’m not sure. But you were having a nightmare, and I just… I wanted to help.”

His expression hardened. “I didn’t need help. I would’ve woken up and assessed my situation on my own.” He sat up straighter, his tone clipped. “You can go now.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration bubbling beneath my skin. “No. Spencer, what happened to you? You were hurt, weren’t you?”

His laugh was bitter, cold. “I just left hell. I’m not interested in taking a guided tour back.”

I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen this before—the trembling hands, the sheen of sweat, the distant, unfocused gaze. I’d been around enough parties, enough people experimenting with everything from weed to molly to coke, to recognize the signs.

“What were you given?” I asked, my voice firm.

His jaw tightened. “Basically drugstore heroin,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

He’s addicted. Probably became dependent on it during the entire situation, which means he had to have been administered it regularly, given the shit that gets you hooked after just one time. There was no way he hadn’t went out and got more. That was a craving that he hadn’t killed yet. Couldn’t kill. Not on his own. I sighed, my heart sinking. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“I’m not telling you,” he snapped, glaring at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Spencer, I think I can touch things now, sort of. I’ll find it if I have to.”

His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he looked utterly defeated. “I need it,” he whispered.

His confession hit me harder than I expected. “Why?”

“Because he was right,” Spencer said, his voice trembling. “It makes everything quiet. And for someone like me, a little silence is…” He trailed off, his gaze distant. “It’s more than appreciated.”

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to tell him what he should do, why drugs are bad, and why addiction kills. “Okay. I get it. But it’s not an excuse.” I paused, searching his face. “It’s in the safe, isn’t it?”

His silence was all the confirmation I needed.

JUNE 28, 2008

Dark as it may have been, Spencer’s struggle had given me something I hadn’t felt in years—a purpose. That first night, there was fighting, crying, and, strangely enough, an ice cube or two. It was chaotic and raw, but it gave me something to hold onto. The following week was the same—a tense repetition of stubborn refusals and quiet breakdowns. But the week after? That’s when I noticed changes—not just in him, but in me.

I discovered I could interact with the physical world in ways I hadn’t been able to before. I could cook, organize, and even leave the apartment… well, sort of. My first attempt ended with me walking face-first into an invisible wall about twenty feet from the building’s exits. Still, it was progress. It was proof I wasn’t entirely stuck.

A year later, Spencer doesn’t like to talk about that time. To him, it’s a chapter better left in the past—something he’s learned from, something that shaped him, but not a story he’s eager to tell. His team knows, though. Hotch and Morgan make sure the hospital staff know not to administer narcotics if he’s ever injured. It’s a silent understanding among them, a protective measure born from experience.

When it does come up, Spencer is quick to deflect. If someone brings it up, he’ll steer the conversation into safer, stranger territory. Like the first time Penelope Garcia accidentally mentioned it. Without missing a beat, Spencer quipped, “Yes, but want to know something crazier? I’m roommates with a ghost.”

And that’s how Penelope Garcia ended up in our apartment.

The moment she stepped inside, I knew this wasn’t going to be a normal visit. Penelope was an explosion of energy and curiosity, her eyes immediately darting around the apartment, taking in every detail. And there was a lot to take in.

The space had evolved since Spencer first moved in. Back then, it was sparse, bachelor-esque—a couch, a coffee table, and not much else. But throughout the year, I’d filled it with touches of personality. A corner plant stand I’d built during one of Spencer’s longer cases A display shelf for mugs that had started as a simple project but quickly became a labor of love. And my favorite addition—a gallery wall anchored by a soft loveseat I’d claimed as my corner. I had to beg him to buy all the wood from Home Depot, a place I knew he had no interest of ever visiting. But the apartment had character now, a warmth that said: Someone lives here. And maybe someone else… doesn’t.

Penelope was enchanted. “Oh my God, look at this place! Spencer, this is so gorgeous! How could you even live here? You’re such a little nerd.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as he took her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. “It’s a long story,” he muttered.

It was then that I stepped into the living room, my footsteps light but enough to draw her attention. Penelope’s head whipped around, her eyes widening as she spotted me.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and awe. “You’re beautiful!”

I blinked in shock. “Wait—you can see me already?”

She tilted her head, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Oh, are you not usually visible to the mortal eye? Is this like a Beetlejuice thing, where only the chosen one can see you?”

I shook my head, still trying to process. “Not exactly. Spencer could see me right away, but Emily and Derek couldn’t. How… how can you?”

Penelope tapped her chin, thinking for a moment before a mischievous smile spread across her face. “I must be special,” she said with a playful shrug.

Spencer groaned from behind her. “Oh no. Don’t feed into this.”

Penelope grinned, spinning to face him. “Feed into what? Spencer, you’re living with a ghost, and not just any ghost—a gorgeous, articulate ghost! I demand details. Right now.”

[billiethepumpkin]

An Expanded Family: How They'd Be as Step-Parents

Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.

Contains: GN!Reader. Multiple family situations. Deceased parents. Coparenting. Absent parent. Blended families. Adoption of a younger sibling. Step-parent behavior.

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya. Ochaco Uraraka. Tenya Iida. Momo Yaoyorozu. Shoto Todoroki. Mirio Togata. Hitoshi Shinsou.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)

Izuku Midoriya

It had been the first thing he learned about you. You were a parent. Parenthood was deeply engrained in the way you operated, especially in the Pro Hero space.

When you started dating, though, it became so much more complicated than that.

He started overthinking immediately.

Deku was a lot of things. A lot of little kids looked up to him. He met people every day, but the pressure of meeting your little one was extremely high.

Sometimes you'd catch him mumbling to himself, practicing how to talk to a little kid. He knew that screwing this up might mean losing you forever.

But there is literally no possible way that he could screw it up. In any universe.

He decided to go with you and your four year old son to a playground. He put together a picnic and everything.

Izuku was perfect.

You were sure you fell in love with him all over again, watching him on the playground with your baby.

He was a little awkward at first, but as soon as your son asked him to play tag, Midoriya was all over it.

Your baby had him climbing up slides, going down fireman's poles, swinging on swings, the works.

And you couldn't tell who was having more fun: Izuku or your son.

Sometimes, Deku would come over and babysit for you while you had to run off to work or to run an errand.

Izuku always just treated them like playdates or sleepovers, though.

He asks your son's permission for everything first. Especially when he's about to take big steps in the relationship, like moving in.

But when Deku asked your son if he could move in with you guys, your son got all wide eyed and excited.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, smiling wide. "It'll be like a big sleepover!"

Midoriya knew your son had another parent, whether they were involved or not. He wasn't really trying to take over the father role.

It just fit him so well.

Soon, he found himself making pancakes and packing lunches and planning birthday parties.

Midoriya loved the life he had with you and your son. He loved it much more than he had anticipated.

And when you saw how much he loved your son, and how much your son loved him, it sealed the deal for you, too.

Ochaco Uraraka

Ochaco was surprised to find out you had kids. You were always so put together.

Not that parents can't be put together, she supposed, but you just didn't really seem like the parent type when she met you.

But whenever she came over while your twin daughters were there, she immediately saw a different side of you.

It made her fall that much more in love with you.

The first time you asked her to babysit, you were on your way to the hospital to see your sister have her own baby. Their other parent was never really in the picture, and everyone else that you would normally ask to watch the babies was also going to the hospital.

Uraraka volunteered almost immediately.

She had been with the twins and you enough times that she thought she had the hang of it.

However, they were only three years old, and whenever it came time to feed them, Ochaco realized she knew so little about children.

Nothing she offered seemed to satisfy them. It took her a while to figure out what they wanted, with their picky palates.

But she did it, eventually.

She knew the routine. Dinner. Bath time. Show on the couch. Then bedtime in the room they shared.

That night, you came home to find your two girls asleep with their heads on Ochaco's lap, her head leaned back on the couch as she dozed, too.

You merely giggled and brought your two girls to their own beds, then brought Ochaco into bed with you.

After that, it took her a while to feel comfortable watching the girls without you.

But she was very good at following your parenting style whenever it was the two of you!

And, man they loved her.

Any chance they got, they dragged Ochaco into the floor to play with them.

Coloring books, ball games, dress up, anything they could convince her to do.

With your permission, she had even floated them a couple of times.

And it warmed your heart when you heard one of them ask her, "Ochaco, will you be my Mama?"

Tenya Iida

You only got your baby every other week.

Your son was still a newborn, and his other parent was still very much a part of his life.

You wanted to make as much of the time you had with him as possible. So originally, Iida wouldn't come over during the weeks that you had him.

However, all of that changed when his dad wanted to switch weeks for a family event that you'd had going on.

You'd been so absent minded about it that you had forgotten to tell Iida.

Tenya had offered to just go back home and to reschedule his visit for the following week. But you thought that was as good a time as any for him to meet your son.

Iida met your baby while he was sleeping.

He was quiet and attentive, taking in the entire nursery. He didn't think you had shown him that part of your house before.

And even though he loved you and your son, it took a long time for him to really feel like he was part of your family.

I mean, you were seemingly still really close with the baby's other parent. He was never going to be able to step inside the bubble of your family.

Especially because Iida never really did the whole "step-father" thing.

At least, not in the way that anybody else usually did it.

He was more clinical, more calculating, the way he was with everything.

He didn't give the baby any baths or diaper changes for the first six months that you knew him, at least. He felt like it was inappropriate for him, as someone who isn't even related to the baby, to be doing those things for him.

He would do almost everything else, though. Feeding, playing, walks, different learning exercises, cleaning, more feeding.

You knew that everything he ever said or did was only because he cared about you and your baby.

However, he was always insecure about it. He never thought he'd be able to get your ex to trust him, and he never wanted to give either of you a reason not to.

Until you had a conversation with him about it.

You had a heart to heart about how it felt like you were doing a lot of things alone in your relationship and that you needed him to do a little more.

It was then that he told you how much he worried about things like diaper changes.

After you had a long talk about it, he revealed that he had no problem with those kinds of things. He just worried that it would affect the baby's development, to have a stranger around for intimate moments like diaper changes.

After that, he started to help more. He became stronger and stronger as a caregiver for your baby.

He would never be the baby's father. You both knew that. And Iida wasn't trying to be his father. All Tenya wanted was to love both of you for as long as he could.

Momo Yaoyorozu

You had a ten year old daughter when you and Momo started dating.

In fact, Momo met your daughter almost right away. She didn't have much of a choice because you had a really hard time finding childcare for her while you were away.

Your ex wasn't in the picture and didn't want to be. You didn't want them to be either. And your family didn't exactly raise kids the way you wanted your daughter to be raised. So it was just you and your daughter for the last ten years.

Until Momo came along.

She started out as just a really good friend.

Plus, now your daughter had someone else to look up to in her real life. Momo was smart and powerful, and you wanted your baby to have a woman in her life to look up to. Momo was perfect.

And then it became so much more than that.

Soon, Momo was over every single day. She picked up your daughter from school when you couldn't. She helped with homework and studying. She made dinner and taught your daughter everything she could about math and science and chemistry and hero work, everything she could get out of her system

And your daughter really didn't know how to feel about Momo because she just came on so strong all the time.

I mean, your daughter did like Momo.

It was just hard for her not to have some big feelings. She only had one real parent, and she didn't like any of her other family because of how mean they were all the time.

And Momo went from her parent's friend that sometimes tutored her to the person that sometimes steals her only parent.

And sure, it was cool to have a superhero as a stepmom.

But really your daughter missed the days when it was just the two of you.

When you noticed, you were heartbroken. You apologized over and over, and you promised your daughter that you could plan more days for just the two of you.

Momo was fully supportive of you having more alone time with your daughter. She knew it was important for your daughter to have that bonding time.

Momo just wasn't really sure how to react at the news that your daughter wanted her around less. She hadn't really considered how much she cared for you and your family until then.

Somehow, even though Momo knew how important it was for your daughter to have you as a support system, she still felt rejected and sad. She didn't want to leave you alone.

Momo pulled away for a while. Not because she was angry or anything, but because she didn't know how much space she was supposed to give you to be with your daughter.

Eventually, your daughter did start asking about her again.

"When is Momo coming back over?" she asked one time on the way home from school. "I miss her."

It took a long time, but you eventually learned to balance your time with Momo and your time with your daughter.

Shoto Todoroki

You took in your younger brother when your parents passed away.

You were happy to do so. The two of you had always been close, and you were happy to be the one who takes care of him.

But he was a bitter, emotional thirteen year old boy whose parents had just passed away. And there was nothing you could do to ease his pain.

You did everything you could think of. You started both of you in therapy. You spent quality time together. You made his favorite meals. You invited his friends over. But nothing consoled him.

He was mean and angry. He was sad and anxious. He insisted on being alone the majority of the time.

And you spent so much time trying to help him heal that you ended up isolating yourself.

That was when you met Shoto. He was a good shoulder to lean on. He was never judgmental of you or your situation. He always listened and never spoke until the time was right.

Todoroki also put you first, the way that you were never able to. And you fell in love with him months after your brother moved in with you.

You were extremely careful of the way you presented your relationship to Shoto to your brother. You thought it would be too quick of a change for him so soon after the last one.

Your worry actually led to you keeping it a secret for a little over a month.

It wasn't on purpose. You always meant to tell your brother that you had a boyfriend. But at first he just wasn't responsive to anything you said.

But then he met Shoto on accident.

Shoto went into your apartment to grab something you needed for work. It was only meant to be a quick trip to the apartment, and your brother wasn't meant to be there.

But he was. Your brother had skipped school. Apparently it's something he'd been doing for a while. He would just walk home after you left for work.

Shoto found him, and they struck up a deal. Todoroki would teach him some skills in combat and he would avoid telling you about the skipping class if your brother would stop skipping school altogether.

Suddenly, Todoroki became best friends with your younger brother.

Your brother became more social, more active. He started talking to you again. He started getting better grades in school. He started joining you for family dinners.

And when you were finally able to tell your brother about the nature of your relationship with Shoto, it turned out that he already knew.

Apparently, he overheard you on the phone with Todoroki one night.

Todoroki became increasingly protective over your brother.

He took your brother to nightly training sessions to help him work off his emotions.

Your brother even convinced Shoto to try going to therapy himself, something he had considered but never actually went through with.

After that day, they started becoming closer. Almost brotherly, almost the relationship you knew Shoto was missing from his siblings.

You knew they both needed each other.

And Todoroki was so spoiling for the both of you. He took you both on trips. He bought you gifts for holidays. He took you to dinner and to his Pro Hero parties and banquets.

Every once in a while, he would work late, and he would refuse to come back to your place because he didn't want to wake up your brother.

And one day, when Todoroki had been at his own apartment for several nights after being on late night patrols, you heard your brother ask you from the other room, "When is Shoto coming home?"

And ever since then, the three of you became a happy family.

Mirio Togata

You and your daughter met Mirio in the park.

Your daughter had been just six years old. Her other parent had passed away when she was an infant.

Your parents lived far away, and your partner's parents couldn't bear to look at your daughter now that they'd had to bury their own child. And you couldn't really blame them because of how much she looked like her other parent.

It was just the two of you, you and your baby.

Mirio had brought is own daughter, one from a previous marriage.

Their divorce had been amicable, though his ex-wife had since made some poor life choices and was no longer able to visit or take his daughter on the weekends. So they spent their days visiting parks and playgrounds.

You met because your daughter had taken quite a fall off of the swings and scraped up her hands, and Mirio's daughter had helped her up. Mirio, then, helped her find you so you could bring her home.

You were thankful, and you took your daughter home after a brief exchange of niceties.

From then on, you always noticed him at the playgrounds you frequented. Your daughter became very good friends with his, and you found it in your best interest to become friends with Mirio.

The rest is history.

You found out that your daughters would be going to the same elementary school. And from then on, they did everything together.

Meaning that you and Mirio now did everything together, too.

Mirio was particularly doting on your daughter.

He would play with her whenever she asked, no matter how silly the game was.

He would give her piggyback rides into school.

He would nurture her whenever she needed loving.

But he also never neglected his own daughter. He made sure they still went out on their father-daughter dates to cafes and parks and playgrounds.

Watching him love the kids so much created a longing in your heart that was so strong you couldn't deny that you had feelings for him.

Eventually, things spiraled until the two of you were much, much more than friends.

You hadn't exactly explained anything to your daughters yet, but during a play date, they walked in on the two of you kissing.

It was innocent enough. Nothing got remotely steamy. But it was just an innocent moment.

You both startled when you heard "OoooooOOOOoooh!" from the two tiny voices peaking around the corner.

You all started laughing, and your daughters came bounding in the room. "You loooooove Mirio!" your daughter teased.

"Yeah, I guess I do!" you said with a smile, looking at him lovingly.

Mirio was just as doting and loving on your girls as he had been the entire time.

A couple of months into your relationship, you discovered that you were pregnant. And then a few months later, you welcomed a new baby boy into the family.

At first, your girls were so loving and doting on their brother. They "helped" feed him, change him, and bathe him, which really meant just talking to him and giving him lots of kisses.

But you could tell that something with your own baby girl had gone awry.

She would cling to you all hours of the day. She always wanted to be cuddling you, right by your side every minute of the day.

Eventually, she let it slip that she thought you and Mirio loved the new baby most.

You decided that you had to do something. Your baby had to know that you loved her just as much as the rest of the family.

So you set up a special time after the baby was laid down for bed at night where you all did something together.

Sometimes you'd watch a show and cuddle under blankets on the couch. Sometimes you'd play board games together. And sometimes you would take turns reading parts of books.

You each took your girls out on solo adventures whenever you could, making sure to spend time with them just as you did one another.

You did your best to make sure that your family unit all felt loved the way they deserved.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Shinsou actually met your eight year old son first.

You had been holiday shopping on one of the busiest nights of the year.

You knew you shouldn't have brought him with you. You knew you should've just waited until your parents could watch him.

But now, here you were, frantically running around the shopping center, waiting for your eyes to lock with his.

You couldn't help but shame yourself while you searched for him.

First, you got pregnant in high school. You knew you weren't mature enough to have a child, and all of this proved it. You were still a child yourself. You had no business raising a kid all on your own.

And then you saw it.

You saw your son being led through the crowd with a man with purple hair, and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, and you and that man were moving into the same apartment.

Shinsou had proven to be an amazing parent, even if he really hadn't seen himself as a parent before.

He knew he wasn't really the "step-dad" type, and he never pretended to be.

He just wanted to care for you and your son as much as possible.

Hitoshi really struggled at first.

Sometimes, when he was over, he just couldn't understand why he could wake you up in the night with some love and affection.

Eventually, you explained that your son's face was peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall between your bedrooms. "What the hell would you do if he walked in, 'Toshi?" you had eventually asked.

The look on his face seemed like he'd seen a ghost when you asked.

It took him a long time to get used to the schedule, too.

You and your kid got up so freaking early.

And yeah, he knew it was for school. But that didn't mean he wasn't grumpy about the alarm buzzing on your bedside table at six every morning.

One morning, though, he had been awake when your son had woken up from a nightmare.

You would have been happy to wake up and be there for your son. But Hitoshi also knew this was his chance to really bond with him in a way he hadn't been able to. So he got up and led your son into the kitchen.

Hitoshi took the time to heat up some milk with honey and cinnamon mixed in, just like in that movie he had watched with you and your son recently... Oh, what was it called?... He couldn't remember.

They talked about the dream. Shinsou told your son all the ways that he remembered to be brave when he was afraid.

And ever since then, your son went to Shinsou for everything. It was like he was obsessed with your boyfriend.

Ever since then, they were best friends, always getting into one thing or another together.

[faelapis]

first three eps of the season were good. after that, arcane season two just completely fell apart.

it ignored all themes of oppression, police violence, cait's slip into fascism, the zaunite revolution, etc. all in its need to introduce a bunch of pointless league lore and create 762 new storylines, despite only having one season to tell them. and so it told zero of them well.

idgaf about the black rose. idgaf about it suddenly being about stopping the robot uprising. idgaf about warwick (vander is effectively already dead. the only purpose of this false hope was to bring him in line with league canon). ambessa started off as an interesting character, but as soon as the caitlyn storyline fell apart, so did any motivation of hers that actually made sense.

jinx became a tragically pointless character who ended up in the exact same self hatred-spiral she started the season in. except instead of being brought on by silco's death, now it's isha's death. sevika gets a pointless minority seat on the council, but it's only one seat, with no assurances that anything will actually change for zaun. ekko gets no character arc whatsoever. he's just a generic good guy who does good guy stuff. the viktor/jayce story had a sweet ending, but it took up far too much screentime in a show whose main characters are supposed to be vi and jinx. vi never gets to have a moment where she either accepts or learns from her failures. she ends up a surprisingly passive role the entire season, which could serve an interesting internal character arc, but that never happens. her only "arc" is to be comforted by her cop gf.

and really that is the original sin here. because the season's first three episodes promised so much about cait. it promised not just her slip into authoritarianism, but to explore why and what impact it has on her relationship with vi. who vi wants to be, in relation to this person and this system.

this image is the embodiment of what i wanted this season to be. it's a conscious reference to macbeth, the shakespearian tragedy in which the main character's obsession with becoming king and remaining in control results in war and bloodshed. if told carefully, it could be brilliant commentary on cait, on fascism, on social hierarchies, personal trauma and the nature of power.

we get none of that. instead, her fascism arc is lazily resolved by just undoing it as soon as she sees vi again - and no, this does not count as a "love conquers all" resolution. i'm not opposed to that ending! but cait's heel-turn came out of nowhere!! it felt like a cowardly move on the writers part, because they didn't want to make viewers uncomfortable with the main ship.

vi became a complete mush of a character. she just reacts to whatever others (mainly cait) does. she has no motivations of her own. and like i already said, this does not fuel a compelling arc about her depression or trauma. the question of whether she should believe in others never goes anywhere. except of course, to be comforted by cait. so vi, in her own right, does not exist for any narrative purpose this season. she just... is sad and looks good. she puts on her big punching gloves and does a few show fights. download league of legends. unlock the depressed punk vi dlc costume today.

[lillaydee]

I'm Right Here Part 10

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced/Supposed Sexual Assault, SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF HARM, Joel has PTSD

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 9

Joel pushed the door to your room softly, playfully saying ‘knock-knock’ when he saw his wife look up from her phone. He walked over to her, greeting her with a peck on the cheek, asking her how you were doing.

“Still asleep. She did wake up in recovery, apparently, but fell asleep again. They told me to call someone when she does. She might be in a bit of pain for a while, they said. But she should be okay.”

Joel placed the paper bag he was carrying on the table next to the couch, taking the ice pack he had brought with him out. He went over to the minibar and placed it in the little freezer.

“For her shoulder when she wakes up. She needs to ice it,” he told Annie.

“You know a lot about shoulder injuries,” she teased.

“Been around long enough to see it happen. Eddie used to keep one in the freezer just for her, even when she hadn’t been back in years. Had to throw one away from freezer burn once.”

Annie gave a refrained laugh, worried that she might wake you. She got up from her seat next to your bed and joined him on the couch. He got the sandwich he had brought for her out of the bag and passed it to her.

“So,” she began, taking a bite out of the sandwich, “This is the infamous Daze.”

Joel nodded slowly, his lips pursed into a pout. You hadn’t changed much, he thought. Your hair was different, but other than that, you were basically the same person he saw at the airport all those years ago.

“She’s much prettier up front. Taller than I thought she would be.”

Joel nodded again, a bit lost for words, not really knowing how to answer.

“You know,” Annie continued, “I’ve always been a bit jealous of her. Everyone loves her, she sounded perfect. Made me feel inadequate, to be honest, but that was okay since she wasn’t around. Well, she is now, and the first time I met her, she was in the ER, injured from saving my daughter’s life. As far as I’m concerned she’s literally an angel. I might hate her now,” she quipped, smiling at Joel.

He turned to meet her eyes, his face riddled with guilt.

“Annie…”

She patted his knee, shaking her head, telling him “I’m just kidding,” she assured him. “She seems lovely. And she’s here. She’s back.”

“Annie…”

Their conversation was interrupted by a quiet moan from you. Annie quickly passed the sandwich back to Joel, going over to you. You were groggy to say the least. Annie pushed the call button, gently placing her hand on your shoulder when you tried to get up.

“No Daze, you should lie back down. Your shoulder, honey. Stitches.”

You sort of froze for a bit, looking around the room, confused as fuck.

“You were in an accident, remember? You just had surgery. You are in the hospital,” she gently told you, her hand still on your good shoulder, trying to prevent you from getting up again.

Recognition and recall came to your eyes, and you slumped back into the pillow, your body relaxing. A nurse came in, checking your vitals. A doctor came in after, asking you some questions, smiling at your loopy answers.

“How’s your pain Miss Stevens?” he asked.

“Oh, my pain is amazing. Fire.”

He gave you a small laugh, telling the nurse to administer some pain meds to manage your pain. He turned to Annie and Joel, reminding them to keep your shoulder rested on the pillow for a while longer before leaving.

Annie quickly went to your bad shoulder as soon as they left, making sure the pillow propped behind you was fluffed up and comfy for you. When she tried to give you some water, you shrunk back as if she had just materialized out of thin air in front of you. You stopped when she held the straw to your lips, opening your mouth just enough for her to insert the straw in, taking sips of water, all the while eyeing her. You stopped taking sips at one point, but bit into the straw when she tried to pull the cup away from you. You continued drinking after a few beats, eyes unblinking, just staring at her, memory searching for recognition. You finally stopped drinking when the glass emptied. Annie filled it up and offered it back to you. This time, you looked at the cup warily before looking at her, suspicion in your eyes.

“Who are you? Why are you making me drink? Are you trying to poison me?”

She laughed. “You just drank a whole cup, and now you are asking if I’m trying to poison you?”

“I did?”

“Yeah, honey, you did.”

“Why are you calling me honey? Do I know you?”

“Hmm… technically no, but we’ve met. I’m Annie, remember? Sarah’s Mom? Joel’s wife?”

Your eyebrows scrunched. “Joel?”

“Yeah, Joel. Your childhood friend?”

Your bottom lip jutted out and you shrugged, before hissing in pain.

“No, honey, don’t move your shoulder yet,” Annie cooed, fixing your pillow again.

Joel sat up upon hearing your painful gasp. You turned your head towards him, as if only clocking his presence just then. Your eyes met his. He froze.

“Hey,” you whispered too Annie, far too loudly, tilting your head her way, eyes still on Joel, making Annie choke down a laugh. “Can you see him?” you asked, surreptitiously pointing at him with your head.

Annie played along, discreetly glancing at Joel from her seat before nodding at you.

“Who’s that?” you asked, looking conspiratorial, as if he wouldn’t be able to hear you. “He looks familiar.”

“Yeah?” she asked, “Where do you think you know him from?”

You appeared to be thinking hard, seemingly failing at any form of recollection. The nurse from before came back in, a syringe in her hand, emptying it into your cannula.

Your body relaxed immediately, but you were fighting to stay awake, eyes still on Joel.

“He looks like that guy…” you managed to mumble.

“What guy?”

“The guy who liked me and then didn’t. He was mean to me. He hurt me with his words.”

Annie’s heart sank. She turned to look at her husband, whose face was now the definition of heartbreak.

“Maybe he will make up for his words now,” she coaxed, taking your hand in hers, squeezing it a little. You squeezed back.

You blinked at her, slow, deliberate, drugged. Your next words came out slurred, drawn out.

“Nah. He’ll yell at me again. And then he’ll leave. Or he’ll make me leave.”

“Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’ll come after you this time,” she tried again, her heart clenching at how heartbroken you seemed, despite your high.

You took a slow, deep, dragging breath. “No he won’t. He never did. I waited. He didn’t come after me. He never will.”

Annie was still struggling with what to say next when your eyes closed, your breathing relaxed, your grasp on her hand softened.

By the time Annie turned to look at Joel, he was gone, the door slowly closing behind him.

You woke up the next morning to whispering people. Olivia silently shrieked when she saw you were awake, coming over to give you a light hug. Eric and Benny kissed you on the forehead, all three somehow finding a place to sit on one side of your bed without overwhelming you. Will walked in a bit later with breakfast for everyone. Aunt Tina, Anita and Jake arrived just as your breakfast was brought to you. Breakfast was a merry event, so much laughter and joy shared, the nurse had to pop her head in a few times to get everyone to be a bit quiet. It was the hospital after all.

“Sorry we couldn’t visit yesterday babe,” Eric said. “But Annie said you were asleep anyway, and we thought we should let you rest.”

“I did drop by with Annie at first, but I had to go back to work. By the time I got off Annie said you were down for the day, they gave you something for the pain,” Olivia added.

“It’s okay guys. I’m fine. The nurses’ station is right outside my door.”

“Annie kept us updated though. Apparently you woke up for a few minutes but went back to sleep.”

“So… Annie was here?” you asked.

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly. “Uh… yeah,” Will said, “Are you okay with that? She was the only one available.”

“No, of course it’s okay.”

“Honey, we wanted to tell you about her and Sarah. But…” Anita began.

“No, it’s okay, I never wanted to know.”

The room was quiet again. You ate your pancake, quite aware of the eyes that were boring on you.

“You can ask, babe, we’ll answer,” Eric finally said.

“Sarah…”

“She’s Joel and Annie’s, not Jen’s,” Aunt Tina quickly answered.

You nodded. You didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“What happened to Jen’s baby?”

“I think we should let Joel answer that, sweetie,” Anita said. “It’s better that way.”

You nodded, biting into another piece of pancake.

Anita got up from her seat and sat next to you on the bed. She placed her hand on your knee.

“Sweetie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“She’s a wonderful woman, Daisy, she helped him out a lot. She’s the reason he hasn’t gone off the rails,” Anita continued.

You nodded, swallowing your pancake with an audible gulp. “I’m sure she is. She seems nice. And Sarah seems like a wonderful girl.”

“She’s the light of our lives,” Anita told you, smiling, patting your knee once more before getting up and going back to her seat.

The door opened again, and Annie and Sarah popped their heads in. The silence roared back into a buzz of activities.

Annie came to your bedside, asking you if you remember who she was.

“Annie, right? Joel’s wife?” you asked, trying to keep the bitter bile you were tasting as you said those words from surfacing.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she said, “I take it the drugs have gone out of your system now?” she asked, smiling cheekily at you.

Your eyes widened. “Why? What happened? Oh God did I make an absolute fool of myself? Shoot, tell me you don’t have me on your phone saying stupid things,” you begged.

She laughed, patting her purse, “Oh, I just might. I’m gonna save it for when I really need a big favour from you though.”

You smiled. Great. She’s funny. And friendly. And pretty. And sweet. And married to Joel. And the family loved her. And she gave them all Sarah. Wonderful.

Just excellent.

“Listen,” she said, sitting down next to your bed. “I just wanted to thank you again, for saving Sarah. That girl is my life, Joel’s life. I don’t know how we could’ve survived if you didn’t…” she had to stop talking, choking a little, trying to hold back tears. “So… thank you. As far as I’m concerned, you are my hero, I owe you a life, and if you ever need anything… just ask.”

You just smiled. You didn’t know what to say, so you patted her hand awkwardly with your good hand reaching across your body.

“Auntie Daze?” a sweet voice called out to you. Your turned around to see Sarah standing on the other side of your bed, a cuddly-looking stuffed lamb in her hand. “I got this for you. It doesn’t make up for anything, but I want to say thank you again for saving me.”

“Oh,” you took it from her hand, “It’s lovely Sarah. Thank you. And please stop thanking me. I did what anyone would’ve done. I’m glad you’re okay. How’s your wrist?”

She lifted her wrapped hand slightly, telling you it hurt just a little bit, but she’ll live, thanks to you.

The door opened again, and Joel came in. The room went deadly quiet. Joel shuffled on his feet awkwardly for a few seconds before relaxing when Annie got up to take the paper bags full of breakfast he was holding off his hands, calling for Sarah to come have her breakfast.

“Can I have the last doughnut?” Benny piped up, making everyone roll their eyes. “Sorry,” Benny whispered to Eric. “The silence was awkward as fuck, okay?”

You busied yourself looking at the stuffed lamb Sarah brought you, smiling a little when you saw that it had a ribbon around it’s neck, ‘Eddie’ written in Sharpie on it.

Your stomach rumbled. Benny stopped bringing the last doughnut to his mouth, looking at you with his mouth open. “Fuck Daze, was that your stomach?”

You covered your face with your good hand, “Sorry! I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday! I guess I’m still a bit hungry,” you sheepishly said.

Benny looked at the doughnut in his hand, “You want the doughnut? I’ll go get you something from the café,” he offered.

Joel got up, taking one of the bags he brought with him to your bed. He placed a breakfast burrito and an orange juice on your tray, crumpling the bag.

“No, you have it, I’m okay. I can ask for more food,” you said, not looking at him.

“Eat, Daze. I got it for you,” he picked up the burrito and unwrapped it, handing it to you. He unscrewed the orange juice bottle and placed it back on your tray before going back to eat his breakfast with his family, Annie smiling warmly at you as her husband took his place next to her.

You placed the burrito back on the tray, biting your lips, trying hard not to let anyone see them tremble. You laughed at some joke Jake made, quipping something back just to stop yourself from tearing up. For some reason, you couldn’t eat his offering. You couldn’t look at the burrito, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel his eyes on you.

Benny sat next to you and began feeding you the doughnut bit by bit, making dumb jokes until you laughed.

You loved seeing them all again. It felt right. You’ve missed this, spending time with all of them. They were the closest thing you had to a family. And you couldn’t blame them for not telling you about Annie and Sarah. You deliberately changed the subject every time they tried. You didn’t want to know. You were trying to move on. Hard. It’s been 15 years, and you really thought you had succeeded. But seeing him again, happily married to an obviously nice and beloved woman, one who was responsible for pulling him back from the abyss he was facing then at that, it hit you like a fucking brick in the face.

You left. You had to keep reminding yourself that. You left. You deliberately asked for an overseas assignment so that you could get away from him. You wanted to move on, make a life for yourself, one where no one was accusing you of possibly assaulting them and leaving you alone after begging you to stay. You were lost yourself, losing Eddie literally meant you were all alone. You remembered thinking to yourself – you were alone, might as well be alone. Really alone.

And now, what was it that you have, really? A great job, a great condo, great friends, and quite a few broken hearts. And the man who drove you to dump everything and leave? He’s married. Happy. With his Annie. And his Sarah.

It’s okay, you coaxed yourself. It’s only a few weeks. You’ll go back home soon. And once you got out of here, you’ll be busy sorting your aunt’s house, so that’ll take your mind off the Joel and the Annie and the Sarah. And then you could leave and go back to your lonesome life. It’s sad, to think of the loneliness that await, but at least you wouldn’t have to watch him play happy family with someone else.

It's stupid really. You chose to leave. You don’t get to boo-hoo that he moved on. Lay on the bed you made.

“Knock-knock!” a playful voice chirped as the door to your room opened. A huge bouquet of daisies made it’s way into your room, followed by Mike, looking slightly taken aback by the amount of people in the room.

“Mr Parks!” Sarah cheered. “Everyone, this is my art teacher, Mr. Parks. He brought me and Auntie Daze to the ER yesterday.”

Everyone got on their feet, except for Joel, Sarah and Annie – they’d met before. Anita and Aunt Tina gave him a hug, thanking him for taking you and their granddaughter to the ER. The poor man got overwhelmed, looking flustered at all the attention. He finally broke free from everyone, coming to your bedside, placing the huge bouquet of flowers by your bed.

“Sorry if it’s cheesy,” he said, scratching his head a little bit, “But your name is Daisy, and when I got to the florist all I could think of was to get you daisies. A bit of lazy thinking on my part.”

“It’s okay, I do love them, because of my name. So, hi Cheesy, I’m Cheesier.”

He laughed, sitting on the chair next to your bed. “How are you doing? They operated?”

You nodded.

“Does it still hurt? Do you need anything?”

“She needs ice packs for the swelling, Joel brought her one. It’s in the freezer,” Will quipped, going to the freezer to take it, handing it to Mike. “About 20 minutes every hour until the swelling is gone, or if it starts to hurt again,” he told him. He nodded.

It was then that you noticed how quiet the room had gotten. The whole room was just staring at you and Mike as he gently placed the ice pack on your shoulder, timing 20 minutes onto his phone.

“Well,” Eric said, picking up the bag that contained his and Benny’s breakfast, now filled with trash, “We should leave them to it. I’ll be back at dinnertime babe, you want anything?” he asked, breaking the others’ stupor. Everyone started cleaning up after themselves, getting ready to leave. Sarah came to hug you goodbye, waving goodbye to Mike, telling him she would see him Monday. She looked at you and Mike together for a while, a strange look on her face, before snapping out of it and leaving.

They all kissed you goodbye, save for Joel, Olivia telling you she would be back with extra lunch for you. Annie came to say goodbye, the same strange look on her face as she looked at you and Mike, before smiling sweetly at you and saying goodbye again. Joel stood by the door, the only one who did not come over to say goodbye to you. He stayed rooted where he was for a few seconds, looking at you and Mike, before nodding at you, giving you a sad smile, finally closing the door behind him as he left.

Mike stayed for quite a while, talking about nothing in particular. It was nice, talking to him. You asked him about his job, his family, and he in return asked about yours. It was just… easy. He even joked about your rumbling stomach, practically feeding you the burrito so you wouldn’t go hungry until noon. He bought you a selection of vending machine snacks, “Gotta make sure that tummy of yours stay full until your friend gets back here with lunch, I have a feeling you could get… uhm… challenging… if hangry,” he teased, placing the alarming assortment of chips and pretzels onto your lap, earning him a smack on the arm from you.

The two of you ended up hanging out, watching half a season of some National Geographic thing on TV together, his socked feet by your legs on your bed, half the snacks gone by the time you were done.

The door to your room opened, and Olivia walked in. She was failing miserably at hiding a smile off her face to see Mike still there, all comfortable next to you, feeding you pretzel sticks. “Oh, sorry!” she said, not looking sorry at all. She placed the bag of take out she had brought on the coffee table, “I’ll come back? Give you two some privacy?”

Mike looked at his watch, “Shit, is it noon already?” he flustered, looking embarrassed to have spent such a long time with you. “Sorry, I got carried away. You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, getting up.

“I don’t mind, you’re good company,” you quickly said, trying to sit up. He immediately helped you, propping the support pillow back in its place after plumping it a bit for you.

“Uhm, listen, do you mind if I come back tomorrow? We could watch the rest of that show?” he asked, his cheeks reddening a little.

For the first time in a long time, you could feel your face get hot. “Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, giving him your phone for him to key in his number. He called his own phone from yours, asking if it’s okay to text you later today? You should be ashamed of how fast you said yes, your heart doubling in size at how happy he looked to hear your answer.

He put his jacket back on, “Well, ‘til then?” he asked. “Til then,” you nodded. He turned to look at Olivia, who suddenly seemed very interested at the painting of a cat on the wall behind the couch, before quickly bending down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. He said goodbye to Olivia, who said goodbye back, an overly drawn and flirty one at that, complete with hair tossing and exaggerated head tilt.

You pretended to be studying the TV remote control when she turned to look back at you, her mouth hanging open in an excited smile. “Are you serious? He is so hot!”

“You’re married,” you reminded her, throwing an empty pack of pretzel sticks at her.

“You are not. Girl, get him!”

“I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

“So? Plans can change! Or, if not, at least you wouldn’t be lonely the next few weeks!”

You rolled your eyes as she plopped herself on the seat next to your bed, assuming Mike’s sitting position before interrogating you about the man for the next half an hour.

You fell asleep after Olivia left, waking up just as they sent you your evening tea. You went to the bathroom and took a long, wipe down shower, getting yourself as clean and fresh as you could after the whole travesty that was yesterday. Took you a while to clean your hair, chastising yourself for not thinking of it when Olivia was still around. After what felt like hours, you walked back into your room, feeling much more refreshed, albeit maybe regretting the hair wash as your shoulder was starting to hurt again. You got the ice pack out of the freezer, wanting to ice your shoulder again, when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you called out distractedly, walking back to your bed. The door opened, a familiar looking lady standing just outside the door, hesitating to come in.

“Daisy,” she gently called out your name.

You turned around, your entire body going ice cold upon realizing who it was, and not from the ice pack.

“Jen.”

Part 11

[theladyofrosewater]

I'm bribing yall with art so you'll listen to my current Ro'Meave lore that I'm using as an excuse to talk about Leona

Here’s the Ro’Meave Family Lore Dump for my rewrite you guys asked for. Buckle up because it’s going to jump around a bit and BOY do I have a lot to say. (very minor warning for my discussion of Zane and Kiki in canon)

I’m starting out with Gwyn and Mairwen, who are essentially just OCs to flesh out the Ro’Meave line.  Gwyn is the Ro’Meave heir and lord with Mairwen being their wife. Together they only have one child who makes it to adulthood, Garte. Gwyn however has an affair second child later on in life after Mairwen fell ill. the affair baby ends up being Malik, A.K.A the Lord of Phoenix Drop.

Malik gets basically banished from a young age with a nanny and Garte never finds out about him because family dishonor or whatever. Malik grows up bouncing around from village to village until the nanny who was supposed to accompany him falls ill and dies. Garte has become lord at this point but Malik heard rumors that Garte may have killed Gwyn and so settled down in Phoenix Drop where he married Matilda and they lived happily together for a while.

Garte of course marries Zianna like he does in canon and it’s Zianna’s family that has the big changes. Basically in my rewrite Zianna is the older sister of Lilly of Falcon Claw, who like in canon is Aaron’s wife. So this essentially makes Aaron the uncle of the Ro’Meave boys as well as giving more of motivation than besides love interest and revenge. This also makes Aaron’s son Jacob (knowing jess his name was a twilight reference) Zianna’s nephew and the cousin to the three boys

Garte and Zianna have Garroth early on in their marrige but when Garroth is 4 his parents get pretty frigid with each other and by the time he’s 6 he’s got two new baby brothers. Zianna has her affair like in canon except no one know who’s the affair baby if there even is one till much later. Eventually after the events of another draft that I have rotting in my notes Vylad ends up dead and Zane get’s shoved into the Church of Irene after someone stabbed out his eye. Then Garroth get’s engaged to Nicole while he’s away training at Brightport’s academy and decides to fake his own death on the way back and runs away to Phoenix Drop

Key takeaway with this is that Garroth when arriving in Phoenix Drop DOES NOT KNOW Malik is his uncle. Malik knows but hides Garroth because he thinks Garte is an ass (true) and then Levin is born and after awhile after Zenix is adopted into Phoenix Drop, the village is attacked, Malik dies and Matilda and Levin flee to Scaleswind while being chased by Shadow Knights. Garroth if he knew about Malik at this point get’s his memory wiped by Gene and doesn’t rediscover the fact till like season three

Then we get into the events of season one and everything kinda happens as normal until we get to Zane's arrival in Phoenix Drop

Okay now for the big can of worms

Leona

Leona in canon was originally heavily hinted at to be Zane’s daughter and then during season two Jess must have realized how fucked up Leona’s birth could be read and then said “Oh no her father could be Kiki’s old lover and its actually not as bad of a thing” Which considering Zane’s character makes like zero sense. When I watched MCD I never caught the implications but a lot of people have realized that what happened to KiKi could essentially be read as rape which….I personally DO NOT LIKE when stories have these elements so I knew that I would have to change that part of the story BUT I didn’t want to just make it so Kiki and Zane were a couple as I think that could be read in poor taste if I wasn’t careful. Zane is still an awful person but I needed to change something So here’s what I’m going to do for my rewrite. 

I’m going to make Kiki and Zane’s relationship consensual, Zane upon meeting her kept seeking out Kiki as she would be easy to sway over to his side, say a few sweet words give a few gifts and BOOM you have a very lovestruck magicks user who will soften up your image and potentially a useful ally. She’s essentially his Livia Cardew and as in my rewrite Zane 100% wants the Lordship of O’Khasis. He tolerates her, hell maybe he’s even a bit fond of her but he does not LOVE her, because he can’t. This version of Zane has had every negative trait enhanced and every positive one strangled and torn to shreds thanks to his father. He couldn’t love Kiki.

But Kiki loves him.

So when she finds out she’s pregnant she’s happy! She thinks she’s going to get married and have a child with someone who she thinks loves her why wouldn’t she be. So she sends a letter telling him all about it and doesn’t question why his next letter takes twice as long to arrive or how short it is. By the time he sends the next one it’s as if it never happened, he’s even giving her gifts and money for the baby promising he’ll be back soon. It’s only after the gang goes through the Irene portal does she start to question if he ever actually loved her. Kiki never stops loving her daughter and she wouldn’t trade anything in the world for her, she just wise the rose-colored glasses wore off sooner. I don’t think it’s a perfect solution, but I think it’s a decent enough start until I can talk to some people

But one more thing that’s swooping back round to the Falconclaw region.

How is Leona a werewolf

Basically in my version is because Leona just so happened to have parents who both have a VERY recessive werewolf gene and when they had a baby, that baby turned out to be a werewolf. Kiki gets it from the side of her family from Brightport and Zane gets it from his mother because she’s a native of Falconclaw. There is a decent chunk of the population in Falconclaw has this recessive gene it’s why many of them are immune to werewolf bites and many of them have werewolf traits themselves. And yes this does mean that Garroth, Vylad and Jacob when he was alive also have this trait.  While Leona being a werewolf can make her general life a bit harder it actually benefits her growing up thanks to striking resemblance she has to Zane and Zianna. Her ears and tail make it so no one would spare more than glance at her because if they looked closer they might just find a certain family resemblance.

also have a rough page of the family tree+ what I think Kiki's full name is

[teamchasezwrites]

Sober

Word Count: 15,807

Characters: Damian Priest/Cassie(OC), minor appearances by: Rhea Ripley, Bianca Belair, Naomi, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Finn Balor

Genre: Smut, Romance

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Together, Dirty Talk, Kissing, Oral Sex, Consensual Touching, Almost Car Sex, Wall Sex, Vaginal Sex, Love Confessions

Summary: Cassie's sober now and finally ready to act on her drunken confession.

Author's Note: I've been hit up so many times for a follow up to 'Tell Me When You're Sober'. It's finally here! This piece of work went through two revisions and a complete rewrite taking me almost a month to complete. I hope you all enjoy! INVY is a real night club in Indianapolis. A little bit of personal growth for me. I just used the name and did no other research on it. Previously I would know everything about it down to the color of the bathroom walls.

Previous Part: Tell Me When You're Sober (Don't have to read to understand, but it sure helps.)

The beat of the music pulsed loudly as Cassie made her way into INVY, an upscale club in downtown Indianapolis. The heat in the building from all the bodies a direct contrast from the near freezing temperature outside. Even then she still felt a shiver run through her as the chill clung to her exposed arms and legs. She tried to get away with wearing jeans and a simple black t-shirt, but Rhea had taken one look at her and nearly recreated the scene from Cinderella where the stepsisters started pulling at her dress.

It wasn’t quite that dramatic she supposed, but it ended with a phone call. The next thing Cassie knew, Bianca was knocking on the door with a black stretchy ruched mini tank dress. It was sleeveless and fell entirely too short for her liking. She already pulled it down three times from where their Uber dropped them off to the door where security let them in without hesitation. Naomi came through with a pair of knee high black boots with a chunky heel.

The trio deemed her good enough and pulled her from her room barely able allowing her enough time to grab the small black shoulder purse. Thankfully it was already ready to go; packed with her license, debit card, credit card for emergencies, hotel room key, cash, phone and lip balm. What she didn’t have time to grab was a coat. Not that she had anything to go with the borrowed outfit.

“Why on earth would you need a coat?” Bianca laughed as the three of them crowded together in the backseat of the Uber.

“It’s gonna be so hot inside you’ll be wanting to take clothes off!”

Cassie hardly thought so as she once again pulled her dress down sending up a prayer it wasn’t one of those dresses you had to decide if you wanted to pull it up or pull it down. The club scene was definitely not her scene. The club scene she preferred was a cracker with two slices of pepperoni and a slice of cheddar cheese.

Or maybe a Subway Club. A six inch stuffed full of turkey, ham, roast beef with cheese. Loaded with lettuce, tomato, pickles, banana peppers, green peppers, onion. Some mustard and mayo to top it off. A side of chocolate chip cookies…

Cassie’s mouth watered. Damn she wished Subway was open this late. Man she wished she was back in Philadelphia where she could walk into Wawa and order exactly that. Wawa didn’t offer chocolate chip cookies but she’d settle for brownie or a chocolate chip muffin. Or better yet – a side of creamy mac and cheese.

She should have eaten more in catering but she hadn’t planned on being awake at this hour. That all changed when Jey won the Men’s Royal Rumble. That meant partying. And there was no way she was going to get out of it. Not with Rhea around.

“Who’s got first round?” Rhea asked as she lead them through the crowd to the bar.

Cassie looked around and noticed the glances in their direction. Watched as lips moved in hushed, whispered words. Though with the volume of the music, she knew the words were probably yelled in ears.

“Who got tossed first?” Naomi asked looking at her and Bianca.

“We all got tossed together,” Bianca said dryly, rolling her eyes.

That was true. A group of them were fighting on the apron, desperately trying not to fall off the edge. She being one of them, tangled up with Zelina Vega. Then Nia Jax came up and shoved Bianca, who was was bent over the top rope, to the ground causing the whole pile to fall, including Naomi.

“I think I hit first because you definitely fell on me.”

“Sorry,” Bianca laughed at her. “Raquel had my hair, I was going wherever she was.”

Which was right next to her. Cassie caught a glancing elbow on the way to the floor before Bianca came raining down. She tried to catch her, but pretty much became a pillow to cushion her fall.

“Better yet, I think the champion should buy the first round.”

Rhea laughed as three sets of eyes turned toward her. She laughed and pulled out a couple of folded bills from the pocket of her tight black pants. “Alright. First round’s on me.”

Rhea got the bartender’s attention and ordered her drink then looked at Bianca. Then Naomi before finally resting on her after the other two women named their drinks.

“Just a water.” Cassie said blushing.

“What?”

“Oh hell no!”

“Gurl! We’re celebrating.”

Cassie stared at the women in front of her. Her face burning with embarrassment. She gave in to the silent looks and turned to the bartender ordering a vodka cranberry.

“Such a white girl drink,” Naomi laughed as she took her drink.

Cassie shrugged and took the drink, swirling the mixing straw around the ice cubes and slices of lime. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. The tangy sweetness of the cranberry burst on her tongue. It did hit the spot. A chilling drink in the near oppressive body heat. She supposed one drink wouldn’t hurt.

“Let’s go find the boys.” Bianca tucked her arm through Naomi’s and drew her into the crowd.

“Since when don’t you drink?” Rhea’s lips practically tickled her ear as she pressed to her side. Her arm tucked through Cassie’s like their friends in front of them.

“Since I made an ass out of myself last month.”

The sting of embarrassment was just as sharp as it was nearly six weeks ago when she woke with a massive hangover and a complete recollection of the night before. How she practically threw herself at Damian. Definitely propositioned him. And wholeheartedly professed her love to him.

She knew Rhea’s groan wasn’t louder than the music, but she still felt it deep in the pit of her stomach.

“Hold on,” Rhea took her hand and led her away from where Bianca and Naomi already entered the VIP area, filled with various wrestlers. She couldn’t help but search the crowd disappointment setting in when she failed to find who she was searching for. Then her heart flipped when she caught sight of him tucked behind so many people she only saw his hair. Pulled back into his signature bun with the braids hanging down the back. He laughed at that moment, his head tilting back and bodies moved and she had an unobscured view of his profile. The sharp jaw, pointed nose, crinkled eye.

Then she lost sight as bodies moved again and she was pulled through people to a tucked away piece of wall offering a semblance of privacy.

“What’s going on?”

Cassie blinked and stared at Rhea. “Nothing? You know this isn’t my scene.”

“We’re just here for a little bit. Drink. Chill. Hang out.”

“I feel exposed.”

“Please. You’re practically wearing a parka compared to everyone else.” Rhea ran her eyes over the patrons near them. The skimpy skirts and barely there tops. They were surrounded by cleavage and ass cheeks.

“I just…” Cassie blew out a breath and sagged against the wall. “I need to keep my whits about me.”

“But why?” Rhea pushed, stepping closer as bodies seemed to press closer. The music seemed to have gotten louder as Cassie’s voice softened.

“Because the last time I drank, I made a fool of myself.”

Rhea’s face softened. “No you didn’t.”

“I told him I wanted sink to my knees and choke on him. Ride him ‘til the wheels fall off.” Cassie’s face reddened as she saw a girl look in her direction. She took another drink and realized it was almost gone.

“Man’s a fucking Saint,” Rhea laughed. She lifted her arm and squeezed Cassie’s shoulder. She knew everything that happened that night. From both Cassie’s perspective and Damian’s. It was absolute maddening. She was practically squealing over the video chat when Cassie filled her in a few days later after having to nearly pry the story out of her. Damian took much longer and it wasn’t until the holiday live tour in Pittsburgh – the first time he’d been in Cassie’s company since that night in Boston – he opened up to her when he realized she didn’t remember. “I can’t believe you let him think you don’t remember.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Jump his bones!” Rhea shouted exasperated. “You should have beaten down his door the next morning and jumped him the moment he opened it.”

“I didn’t have him room number.” Her smile was weak at the look she received from Rhea. She knew one text to her would have armed her with that information. “But what if…”

“What if what Cassie?” Rhea straightened, her arms folding across her body. Her drink grasped in the fingertips. The glass covered in condensation. “He straight up told you he liked you. I told you he liked you. What the fuck are you waiting on? For him to decide it was just a drunken escapade on your part? That you didn’t mean it?” She narrowed her eyes. “You meant it didn’t you?”

“Of course!” Cassie exploded throwing her arms up in the air, nearly upending her drink. An ice cube escaped and slid across the floor. “I meant every single word,” she whispered harshly. “You know this. You know how I feel about him. Isn’t that why you sent him after me that night?”

Rhea blinked at the words. “I didn’t send him after you.” She frowned in confusion. “Cas, he asked me where you were. He was worried because you were upset. He wanted to make sure you were okay. Because he fucking loves you.” She nearly growled the final sentence.

Cassie deflated leaning back against the wall. She stared at their feet. Rhea’s black combat looking boots. The simple knee highs with the pointed toes. Her eyes closed and she blew out a breath. The music pounded in her ears. It felt like her pulse synched up with the beat. “I don’t know what to do.” She raised her head to meet Rhea’s eyes. “I feel so… paralyzed. And now he’s on a different show. I don’t even know when our paths will cross again. Wrestlemania?”

“You end this tonight,” Rhea said as she stepped closer and ducked her head. “You tell him you remember and you meant every single word. Then you kiss the shit out of him. Drag him back to your room and cross off some of the items on your list.” She smirked when Cassie ducked her head in embarrassment. “Come on,” she took her hand. “I need another drink.”

“Oh but…” Cassie started but fell silent as Rhea lead her back through the throngs of people pressed together on the dance floor. She felt a hand brush over her ass. By the time she turned her head to look it was just a blur of bodies; no way to tell who touched her.

“What’s your poison?” Rhea asked as they crowded in at the end of the bar.

“Oh I don’t know…” Cassie hesitated as she put her empty glass on the bar and pushed it in toward the other side.

“One more drink won’t hurt you.”

“I just don’t want to show my ass again.”

Rhea grinned. “With that dress you won’t need much help.” She laughed watching her friend frantically tug at the hem of her dress. She pulled her phone from her back pocket along with her cash.

“I think I’m supposed to get this round.”

“Well I won’t complain if you wanna buy me a drink,” Rhea grinned and opened her phone. “Come here,” she tugged Cassie closer, pressing their cheeks together and lifted her arm in the air. Their faces appeared on the screen. Eyes crinkled reflecting their big grins.

Cassie shook her head as she watched Rhea fiddle with her phone and turned back to the bar. She waved the bartender down and ordered herself and Rhea a drink. This time she ordered just a club soda disguised in a high ball glass with a lime garnish, figuring she’d get drawn into another alcoholic drink later on or a shot. She was digging in her purse for the folded twenty dollar bill when she caught money out of the corner of her eye slipping around her shoulder. It was then she felt the heat and presence of a body close behind her.

She tensed and turned her head to follow the arm to the man standing too close behind her.

“I’ll buy your drink Baby.”

His smile was slick and he reminded her of the guys at the bar in Boston. She didn’t want to be in that position again.

“No thanks,” Cassie said, her smile polite. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene.

“Oh come on… let me buy you a drink. We’ll head out on the dance floor… get to know each other better.” From the smirk he was sending her, she knew exactly what he meant. If she accepted the drink and dance, she’d spent the entire time fighting to keep his hands from her body.

Cassie heard Rhea laugh next to her and looked over. She still had her phone in her hand her fingers moving over the screen. She turn around and found the guy even closer. He towered over her and unlike with Damian it didn’t make her feel safe. It felt intimidating. The bar pressed against her back as she tried to lean as far away as she could. One more time she tried to get out of the unwanted situation. “No thank you, I’m not interested.”

“I’d listen to her.” Rhea pressed the button on the side of her phone sending her screen to black. She looked up taking in the scene in front of her. Outwardly she appeared indifferent but on the inside she was seething. She hated guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Hated how they always seemed to be able to pinpoint the kind of girl who was too polite to tell them off, who could usually be talked into a drink or two because they didn’t want to cause a scene.

“I’m just trying to get to know her. She might like my company and want to spend more time with me.”

Rhea shrugged, her smile widening. “I’m just letting you know her boyfriend probably wouldn’t like it.”

“What boyfriend?”

“Me Pendejo.”

Cassie’s eyes widened at Damian’s voice and she watched as the man in front of her straightened from where he’d been leaning into her. When he turned, she was able to see Damian standing behind him. Intimidating in his own right dressed in all black with his tattoo covered arms on display. His jaw clench hard enough his cheek ticked. His eyes dark and lethal. His fists clenched at his sides causing his biceps to bulge.

She could have melted at his feet right there. Had to clench her thighs at the onslaught of arousal. Wetness pooled at her center and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

Before she could completely become a puddle on the floor, Cassie grabbed her purse from the bar and slid the bartender her twenty dollar bill to pay for the drinks. She grabbed her soda after shouldering her purse and sidestepped from behind the man still in front of her. The last thing anyone needed was Damian to punch the man and judging by the scowl on his face, he was close.

“Hey man, I didn’t know she was taken.” The man’s grin reminded her of a car salesman.

“Probably should have listened when she told you no the first time,” Rhea supplied as she grabbed her drink. She took a sip to hide her smirk. Damian moved as quick as she thought he would when she sent him a text telling him of Cassie’s unwanted attention at the bar in response to his text of asking where they were. No doubt he saw Bianca’s and Naomi’s arrival and questioned why she and Cassie weren’t with them.

Cassie watched as Damian’s eyes got impossibly darker and he seemed to grow in height. The look menacing and she was a little fearful at what he might do. When he lifted an arm, she ducked underneath it and pressed against his side. Her arm wrapped around his back. She tilted her head to look up at him, a smile on her lips. “You made it!”

A sense of Deja-vu hit Damian. His hand dropped to the small of her back, keeping her to him. Over her head, his eyes never left the man behind her. It was just like that night in Boston.

“Just got here,” Damian let his eyes drop to Cassie. She wasn’t drunk this time. There was a red hue to her cheeks like that night, but this time her eyes were clear.

“Come on,” Cassie grabbed his hand. The roughness of his palm on hers. The long fingers slotting with hers. With a tug, he turned and followed her away from the bar.

“She saved your life buddy,” Rhea grinned as she pushed away from the bar. Her drink in one hand, the one she ordered Damian while watching the show in front of her in the other hand. “Next time when a girl tells you no, believe them.” She wiggled a pinky in his direction as a wave as she disappeared into the crowd following Damian and Cassie.

“That better not be water!”

Cassie looked down at her drink at Bianca’s words as she and Damian entered the VIP area. She lifted the glass in her hand and tipped it in her direction. “It’s not.” It was club soda so she technically wasn’t lying.

“This bitch tried to order a water earlier! We just fucking got here!”

“I figured someone outta keep their head about them tonight,” Cassie teased even as her face flamed.

“Nah man, we’re here to party!” Jimmy said as he came up to them and slung an arm around his wife. “Yo Rhea, you double fisting?”

“Aye shit! That’s how you do it!” Jey joined the group. His smile was huge. Eyes wide and bright. Cassie was certain if she looked she’d find his feet weren’t even on the ground. “One of them for me Mama?”

“Sorry Uce,” Rhea lifted the drink in the air and passed it toward Damian. “It’s for Damian. He deserves it.”

“Hey,” Damian chuckled and reached for the glass filled with ice cubes and a dark liquid. “Gracias.” The joining of Jey to their small circle caused movement and shifting. Unfortunately Cassie dropped his hand but she stayed in front of him, slightly to his left. Close enough that if he turned his head, he could bury his nose in her hair.

“Deserves it?” Jey exclaimed, affronted. “Whatchu mean? I won the Rumble Uce!”

“He helped scare off a jerk at the bar who was hitting on Cassie.”

“You wasn’t scary enough?” The group broke out into laughter at Jimmy’s words.

“It was so much better to see the douchebag’s face when he turned around and saw Damian behind him.” Rhea smirked.

“I’m sure you was smiling…”

While their conversation turned to their best menacing looks, Cassie took a small step back until she was brushing up against Damian. His hand rested on the small of her back and she could feel the heat of the touch through her fingers. She turned her head and tilted it up. Her eyes caught Damian’s and she smiled. “Thank you for the rescue.”

Damian lowered his head, “what was that?” His hand slid to her hip where his fingers pressed lightly.

“I said thanks for the rescue earlier,” Cassie leaned closer to speak directly in his ear. His cologne drifted through her nose and she nearly groaned. She wanted to bury her face in the crock of his neck and breathe him in.

Damian lifted his head so he could shoot Cassie a smile. “Anytime Corazòn,” he said with a wink.

Cassie felt warmth all over at the whispered word. Sometimes she woke up to a whispered ‘Corazòn’ in her ear with a phantom weight pressing down upon her. It left her feeling empty and alone. She had no one to blame but herself. After all, she led him to believe she didn’t remember when the opposite was true.

She couldn’t forget that night. Her subconscious liked to bombard her with memories of that night. Little details like the smell of his cologne – the same that filled her nose right now. The feeling of his beard against her temple when they took the selfie together in his car. The taste of his lips on hers. The feeling of his cock beneath her hand as she tried desperately to free it from his jeans.

She brought her glass to her lips as her body heated with her thoughts. The club soda did little to cool her down and she actually wished for the sting of alcohol. There had to be a way to break the continuous loop they were stuck in. The cycle had the chance to last a lifetime. As much as she hated to admit it, Rhea was right. It was up to her to do something. Damian thought she didn’t remember. Probably assumed it was just drunk girl talk. He had no idea…

“Hold up! Every smile!”

Cassie turned her focus back to the group where Bianca had dug her phone out and was holding it up in the air to take a picture of the group.

There were laughs and shoves as the group closed ranks and gathered in close; pressing together until all their faces showed up on Bianca’s screen. Her, Damian, Rhea, Jey, Naomi, Bianca, Jimmy, Montez. Half of Bayley’s face in the corner of the frame. Natalya stretched up from behind the group.

“Let’s dance!”

A cheer went up and Cassie found herself being drug away from Damian. Her pleading and the scrambling of her feet as she tried to back pedal had no effect as Rhea pulled her out with the rest of the ladies. The girls stayed in their group and found a spot to dance together. Before long she found herself moving to the music. It was hard not to with Bayley and Naomi egging her on.

She lost herself to the fun of the music and being able to let go. Drinks they brought onto the dance floor were finished. More replaced them when Bianca and Naomi went to get the next round. Her purse disappeared at one point during a replacement round of drinks. It became a hindrance always falling off her shoulder. Dozens of photos were taken and her cheeks hurt from laughing. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she was begging off for a break. Her feet were sore and a thin sheen of sweat covered her arms.

“Tell the boys to get their asses out here!”

“With drinks!”

Cassie nodded and moved away from the women to make her way back to the private area. Upon entering she saw Damian sitting in a low back leather chair. The table in front littered with drinks. Jimmy sat in a matching chair. Austin Theory in the other. Finn crouched between Damian and Austin. Her head tilted and her heart stumbled when she saw her purse sitting in his lap. Like it was his responsibility to keep an eye on it.

The longer she stared, the more she wanted to go over and sit on his lap. Feel a hand on her waist securing her to him or a warm hand lingering in her thigh. She imagined how he would lift it as he talked but would always place it back on her thigh. How his fingers would caress the skin above her knee before lifting it to gesture.

She needed a drink.

“Your presence is being requested,” Cassie told Jimmy as she walked up to them, breaking the conversation. “And they said don’t come empty handed.”

“Shit,” Jimmy groaned as he stood up. “Come help,” he slapped Austin on the shoulder. “Anything else?”

“Just to tell the boys to get their asses out there. I have a feeling if you don’t, they’ll be coming to drag you out there.”

Cassie watched as Jimmy and Austin walked away. She turned around and smiled at Finn. “Hey Finn.”

“Cas,” the Irish wrestler stood up and gave her a hug. “How are ya?”

“Trying not to have a hangover tomorrow. Rhea and I are road tripping to Cleveland.”

Finn chuckled. “The last thing ya need is Rhea driving.”

“Right. I didn’t pack my rosary this weekend.” She laughed as Damian and Finn joined in. It was common knowledge and a frequent poke at Rhea for her driving. Sometimes she would forget she was driving in the States and be on the wrong side. She always drove a little reckless no matter what side of the road she was on. When she squeezed into their car on days they drove to the next show, Damian or Finn always drove.

“We’re driving too,” Finn said as the laughter died. “We don’t have the room or you two could just come with us.”

“Sure be like old times.” Sort of anyway. Old times didn’t have Liv and Raquel.

“Sort of anyway,” Finn echoed Cassie’s unspoken thought. “Someone had to go and leave.” He turned to look at Damian, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Easy man,” Damian chuckled. “They just got tired of seeing me kicking your ass every week.”

Finn laughed at his friend’s words. “I couldn’t help but noticed you didn’t last very long in the rumble.”

“Before you start measuring, I’m gonna go get that drink.” Cassie reached for her purse as Damian stood up.

“I’ll come with, I need a refill.” Damian nodded at Finn, choosing to ignore his friend’s knowing smirk. He passed Cassie the purse he’d been holding since Rhea handed it to him on a quick pass by as she was getting another round of drinks. He would forever deny the feeling it had given him. A task as simple as holding a purse felt like the world had been handed to him. “What’s your poison?” He asked when they reached the bar in the VIP section.

It was a little smaller than the main bar where he rescued her earlier. He felt himself bristle with anger remembering Rhea’s texts. First the selfie of her and Cassie, then the text about the man hitting on her. He barely controlled his anger when he saw them. Cassie trapped against the bar. The man crowding her. He wanted to rip him away from her. Felt just like that night back in Boston when he saw her sitting in a man’s lap allowing him to put his hands on her. Too drunk to even do anything about it.

“Just a coke,” Cassie placed her purse on the bar. She began to unzip it when a hand was placed over hers. She looked up meeting Damian’s eyes.

“I got it Corazòn.” His fingers curled around her hand, pressing into her palm. The touch sent a bolt up his arm, zapping his heart. Her eyes held his. The green eyes captivating him as he watched the lights from the club dance in them. The way she tilted her head made him want to lean down and kiss her.

“Seventeen bucks.”

The bartender interrupted and Damian looked away as they hands fell apart. He dug his wallet from his back pocket and slid a bill across the bar. “Keep it,” he told him. He tucked his wallet back into his pocket and a quick glance of his fingers over the other pocket confirmed his phone was still there.

He grabbed their glasses and passed Cassie her coke. “Have you been faking it this whole night?” He asked, nodding toward the glass.

Cassie shook her head and took a sip of the refreshing soda. “No. I’ve had a couple. Mostly from peer pressure or when someone would shove a drink in my hand. Though Rhea did bring me water disguised in a high ball glass with a lime during the last round. I could have kissed her.”

“Any reason you’re not drinking tonight?”

Cassie’s face flamed as a blush took hold. “You mean other than not wanting Rhea to drive tomorrow?”

“That’s as good a reason as any.” A hint of longing coursed through him thinking about Rhea and Cassie driving to Cleveland; wishing he could be in the car with them. But he was flying back to New York instead.

“Actually I do have a reason for not drinking…” The words tumbled from her mouth before her brain could process. She ducked her head staring at the floor.

“Say cheese!”

Cassie lifted her head to see Natalya in front of them holding up her cell phone. The woman was always taking photos of everyone. There were a few she’d received from her she coveted. The smile on her face was organic as she wrapped her arm around Damian. She moved closer to him as his hand came to rest on her hip. She leaned against him, tilting her head until she felt his jaw. Then she sort of just melted into him.

“Beautiful!” Natalya smiled after she snapped the photo. It felt a little too intimate and decided not to include it in her stories least she start rumors or out a relationship that wasn’t ready to be disclosed. With a wiggle of her fingers, she left the two wrestlers at the bar and went off to find Rhea.

Cassie sighed, her shoulders sagging. Natalya’s interruption halted the conversation she wasn’t sure she was ready to have. It was both a good and bad thing. This…whatever she and Damian had been doing since Boston… was weighing on her. She was tired of pretending she didn’t remember that night.

‘Tell me when you’re sober Corazòn…’

She stayed sober ever since, hoping she’d be able to find the right time…the right moment to tell him everything she said to him that night. She took a deep breath and raised her head. “Can we talk?”

“Of course Corazòn,” Damian’s hand slid from her back to her free hand where he grasped it. He led them away from the bar and through the crowd of people. Heavier now as more people showed up. He wasn’t sure what Cassie wanted to talk about but she seemed pretty troubled. The carefree airy feeling she had around her when she found him a few moments ago disappeared.

Frustration mounted when he failed the find any semblance of privacy. Each place he looked already had people spilling out. The low back chair from earlier. The cushioned bench along the wall where he’d left his leather jacket. The small little alcove. At this point, he assumed even the bathrooms would be crawling with people.

“Did you bring a coat?” Damian asked as an idea popped in his head.

Cassie shook her head. “No. They pretty much pulled me out of my room. Barely even grabbed my purse.” She squeezed his hand and stared at the hold. His hand nearly dwarfing hers. His tanned skin a contrast to her lighter tone.

“Wait here,” Damian told her. He released her hand and cut through the crowd toward that bench on the back wall. His jacket still remained, balled up and shoved back in the corner. “Excuse me,” he said to the guy sitting there. “Just need my jacket.”

When he was armed with it, he gave it a little shake as he walked back toward Cassie, standing right where he left her. Her eyes sweeping around the room. When their gazes collided and he watched the relief cross her features and the smile grace her lips he knew then he was jumping with both feet.

With his jacket laying across his arm and his drink still in one hand, he took Cassie’s hand back in his and led her through the mingling people once more to the door on the side wall leading to a patio.

The cold nearly stole her breath as they stepped outside. It swept across her bare arms and over her thighs, right through her dress. She shivered and wished the drink in her hand was a hot chocolate instead. Or a nice warm smooth whiskey. Warmth surrounded her as Damian’s jacket draped around her shoulders. She placed her drink down on the empty high top table against the stone façade of the building to thread her arms through the sleeves.

She turned around and met his gaze again. This time it wasn’t the wind that stole her breath. It was the look of pure adoration on his face. His eyes so open and expressive as he stared at her. Her arm lifted and her hand cupped the side of his face. The scratchiness of his beard rough against her palm. “You gave me your jacket that night too.”

It was like Damian’s world came screeching to a halt. Everything he thought he knew forever changed. His eyes flared at Cassie’s words. He cupped her face with both of his hands. The movement caused her hand to fall from his face but it didn’t fall far; coming to a stop on his chest right over his heart. Beating exceedingly fast. He took a step forward their bodies nearly touching. He didn’t feel the cold anymore. Now there was a warmth flowing through him.

A vessel of hope.

“Cassie,” he breathed her name like a prayer. He was almost too afraid to voice his next words.

“I had a reason for staying sober tonight…and every day since Boston…” her fingers curled into his chest as she swayed toward him. “Everything I said that night was true from—”

Damian didn’t give her a chance to finish. He ducked his head and captured her lips, silencing her words. Her lips parted on a sigh when he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. He met her tongue with long strokes and short licks. There was no taste of cinnamon tonight. A taste he had since equated with her.

He withdrew his tongue and used his hands to tilt her head to better the angle as their lips moved together. Her hands clutched at his back and he couldn’t wait to feel them moving on his body. He broke their kiss and was rewarded with a moan of protest that hit deep in his gut. This time, he reunited their lips.

“Damian…” Cassie whispered against his lips. During their kiss, she moved forward pressing herself against Damian’s body. Her hands moved from his chest to his back. Her fingers curled in his t-shirt as she clutched him. Her body warmed from the inside out. Pulsing with need and want.

Damian rested his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled, both breathing heavily. He opened his eyes and watched as she blinked hers open. Pupils blown wide. Full of desire. “Tell me Corazòn…”

“I love you Damian…”

Damian palmed the back of her head, his fingers threading through the loose brown curls. He tucked her into his neck and wrapped his other arm around her back. He held her tight against him as he shuddered. A full body tremor worked him over spreading sweet relief through him. “I love you Corazòn…” he whispered directly into her ear when he ducked his own head. “It was so hard to walk away that night.”

“I didn’t want you to walk away.” Cassie lifted her head to stare at him.

“I had to be sure. I didn’t want you to wake up the next morning, realizing what we did and what happened… I was scared we would never be able to get back on track. Corazòn you’re too important to me to take that chance.”

Cassie went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She felt it all the way in her toes. The feel of his lips on hers. The sweet, smoky taste of the whiskey he’d been drinking. Her hands trailed from his back down to his waist to his hips where she followed along the waistband of his jeans over his belly. She felt the muscles twitching beneath her touch. “Now will you let me suck your cock?”

Damian reared his head back, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. His cock gave an interested twitch in his jeans, already half hard from their kisses and her ghosting touches on his body. “Dios Mio,” he cursed as he gave an aborted laugh at the straight up raunchy out of the blue question. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“Why not?” Cassie walked her fingers up his chest where he caught her hand with his. She watched him bring her hand to his lips where he kissed her knuckles.

Damian took a step back keeping hold of her hand. “Let’s go Corazòn.”

Cassie shivered at his tone. She held his hand tightly as they slipped back inside, leaving their nearly full drinks behind. The heat of the club suffocated the chill clinging to her body. The music felt ten times louder after having been outside hearing only the muted bass beats. They moved through the crowd of people before exiting out onto the street. She was prepared to get an Uber but was surprised when Damian turned to walk down the sidewalk.

“Did you drive?” She asked, stretching her legs to keep up with his long strides. She broke their hands so she could thread her hand between his arm and body; her fingers curling on his bicep. The move brought her closer to him.

They walked passed multiple bars, patrons and music spilling out of each one of them. Traffic steady on the street next to them as Ubers stalked the bars for fares. She burrowed closer to his side and buried her other hand in the pocket of the jacket trying to ward off the cold.

Once they reached the parking garage, it took only a minute to reach his rental. She quickly climbed in rubbing her hands together.

Damian wasted no time getting behind the wheel and starting the engine. He dug his phone and wallet from his back pockets and tossed them into the cup holders. “We’ll probably be back at the hotel before it even warms up.”

“Fine by me.” Cassie reached for his phone as Damian pulled out onto the street from the parking garage. Without thought her thumb tapped across the screen over the keypad entering in the remembered passcode.

“What are you doing, Corazón?”

“We’re gonna take a photo, so find us a red light.” As luck would have it, the next light turned red and Damian didn’t run the yellow which probably pissed off the car behind him.

Cassie leaned in. She threaded her arm through his, her hand on his bicep. The skin warm to touch despite being outside without a coat and the cool air blowing from the vents as the engine took its time heating up. His head tilted toward her. She held her other arm up in the air capturing them both on the screen.

With his Instagram pulled up, Cassie added the photo to a new post and tapped out the caption. Her thumbs moved quickly across the screen. A smiled teased her lips as her body swayed forward in the seat as the car slowed at another red light.

‘Get to be a passenger princesa again! Since he left us I have to drive now because frankly, Rhea scares the crap out of me. Still a highly recommended Uber driver. Five stars.’

She tagged herself in the photo before hitting post. It took a couple seconds before the feed refreshed and the photo appeared at the top of the screen. A dot appeared on the heart in the top right as notifications poured in. She paid then no attention.

Exiting the app she opened up his messages and attached the photo to a blank message. This time she was able to put her phone number in the recipient box. She giggled.

“What’s so funny?” Damian asked hearing the giggle. “Corazòn if you’re posting crazy shit…”

That brought more laughter as it was nearly the same thing he said that night too. “I’m not.” Cassie assured him. She sent the message and felt the vibration under her arm where her phone sat in her purse, still looped over her shoulder but caught beneath the jacket. She tapped on her number and went into the info where she put her name.

Corazòn.

“You have my number now.” Cassie locked the screen and set it back in the cup holder. Settling back in the seat she turned her head letting her eyes run over him. One hand lax on the wheel. The other dangling over his lap from how his elbow was leaning on the center console. The black t-shirt stretched around his bicep. The skull tattoo peeking from beneath. Slouched comfortably in the seat. Black denim stretched over thick thighs. Muscles rippling beneath the denim with each move of Damian’s foot on the pedal. His eyes darting to the rear view mirror and back to the road.

She was going to have to add another item to her list.

At that very moment she wanted to reach across the console and trail her fingers up and down the bunched fabric puckering at his zipper. Wanted to press a kiss to the corner of his lips – right on that tilt – right before trailing her lips to his ear. Where she’d whisper for him to keep his eyes on the road while her fingers pulled his zipper down. She’d free his cock, baring him to the heat of the car, and run her fingers up and down his hard length still nibbling on his ear lobe. When the first drop of pre-come beaded on the tip, she’d duck her head beneath his arm and…

“Dios Mio Corazòn, if you don’t stop looking at me like that…” Damian shifted in the seat trying to relieve the ache in his cock as he slowed to pull into the hotel parking lot. It was packed with cars as most decided to Uber tonight for Jey’s celebration. Luckily toward the back corner was a lone spot. It was a tight fight, but he was able to maneuver the car into the slot.

“I have another thing to add to my list…” Cassie pressed the button of her seat belt. The belt released and crossed her body as it wound back. She removed her arm from its confines and twisted her body as she came up out of the seat to lean over him. She balanced herself with a hand on the console. That left her right to roam.

And roam it did.

It started with fingers lightly grazing his cheek over his ear to the back of his head tangling in the braids. A small amount of pressure had him leaning forward and they were kissing again. Lips moving together and need and want built deep within their bellies.

Cassie’s hand continued its quest. Fingers clutching his shoulder, digging into the hard muscles, as a moan fell from her lips only to be swallowed by Damian. His hand palmed her cheek with his fingers tangling in her hair. Calloused hand against her soft skin. Wetness pooled at her center as she thought about those hands touching every inch of her skin. The soft sensitive skin of her wrists and the insides of her thighs to the ticklish patches where her waist slanted in and the inside of the arches on her feet.

She trailed her hand down his chest feeling his heart beating beneath the palm of her hand. She couldn’t wait to press a kiss to the heated skin over it. Her hand finally reached its destination finding Damian’s cock pressing painfully against its denim confines. Her fingers glazed over the bugle pulling a moan from him and his hips rocked into her touch.

“Do you wanna hear what I added to my list?” Cassie’s words were softly whispered against his lips as she broke the kiss, but were weighed heavily with desire. The tip of her nose brushed softly over his cheek as she teased their lips meeting again.

“Tell me Corazòn,” Damian’s whispers were broken. He lifted his hand to her hip smoothing the fabric down until he was met with the perfectly soft skin of her thigh. He ran his hand down as far as he could reach before drawing his hand back up this time dipping beneath the hem of the dress to the curve of her ass. A teasing swipe of his fingers over her panty line drew a sharp inhale of breath against his cheek. His lips formed a smile even as her own fingers continued to tease his cock – hard and straining against his zipper. “What do you wanna do to my cock?”

Cassie shivered at Damian’s words. She clenched her thighs together searched for pressure to relieve the tingling between them. At the same time, her hips chased the movements on his hand on the back of her thigh and ass. His fingers dangerously close to her center. A little bit further and he’d feel the dampness of her panties. Proof of her need for him. “It involves you driving and your cock in my mouth…”

“Fuck,” Damian breathed. His gripped her ass in the palm of his hand, his fingers pressing into the meaty flesh. He lifted his head meeting her eyes. Her pupils blown with lust. Lips red and swollen.

“But I kinda also want to climb the rest of the way over this seat and sink down on your cock…” As Cassie spoke, she unfastened the button of his jeans. The zipper gave way on its own, sliding down halfway due to the pressure. Her hand dipped beneath the fabric palming his cock through his cotton briefs. Her forehead pressed into his shoulder. Her breaths heavy. His cock pulsed in her hold.

Damian’s head tilted back hitting the headrest as a litany of Spanish words and curses fell from his lips. When her hand moved to free him completely he stopped her with one of his. “Princesa, if you do that I will be ripping your panties off, dragging you over to my lap and sinking into that pretty pussy of yours.”

“That’s what I want.”

Damian groaned and nearly let her continue. “I seem to remember you wanting to sink to your knees and suck my cock. You wanted to trace my tattoos with your tongue. Sit on my face…” he ducked his head, his nose tracing an imaginary image on her cheek as his breath ghosted over her skin. “Wanted me to come all over you. Pressing my fingers deep inside your pussy…”

“God yes,” Cassie moaned. She met his eyes. The deep dark pools pulling her in, making her weak. She dropped her eyes to his lips. That full upper lip. The bottom lip she wanted to sink her teeth in. Framed by the well groomed beard covering his chin and sharp jaw line. A shiver worked through her at the thought of its roughness moving over her skin.

Damian’s eyes grew impossibly darker as he watched the emotions flickering across Cassie’s face. He had to squeeze their hands around his cock when her tongue poked through her lips to trail along her bottom lip. “Corazòn, get out of this car now.”

Cassie’s eyes flared. Damian’s eyes were nearly black and she shivered. She slipped back into her seat and reached for the door handle pushing it open. The cold air rushing in felt heavenly against her heated body. After climbing from the car, she tugged her dress down smoothing it over her ass.

“This dress… I probably showed my ass to anyone around.”

“No one around but me Corazòn,” Damian took her hand, threading their fingers together.

They walked through the parking lot, weaving through the vehicles toward the front door. The doors slid open as they approached. The lobby silent in the late hour. The woman at the front desk never even raised her head. No doubt bored, scrolling on her phone.

The elevator opened immediately when Damian pressed the button. When they stepped on, he hit the button to close the door breathing a little sigh of relief when no one yelled out to hold the door. “What floor Corazòn?”

“Six.”

When the doors opened to the sixth floor, Cassie pulled him off the elevator by her hand still encased in his. She stopped at her door about halfway down the hall. With her purse on her shoulder with Damian’s jacket on over it, she had to pull her arm through the sleeve to free her purse. Dropping his hand, she held her purse in one hand and pulled the zipper open with the other. Rifling through the menial contents, it still took her a lot longer than it should to find her room key.

It didn’t help that Damian crowded behind her. His hands on her hips and sliding up to her waist underneath his jacket. Then his right hand left her body and reappeared at her neck where he brushed the hair off her neck. His jacket fell off her shoulder now that it was released from her arm. When his lips touched her skin her eyes drifted closed and she shivered. She swayed on her feet, her legs threatening to give out.

“The door Cassandra…” Damian murmured in her ear.

“Shit,” she breathed as she leaned back against him. The back of her head rested on his clavicle. His lips ghosting over her neck, as he pressed wet, open mouthed kisses on the skin. “That shouldn’t affect me that.” She wished for a a different style of dress at the moment. Maybe a strapless, corset style to completely bare her shoulders and neck to his wandering lips.

Damian’s fingers spread out over her stomach, the fabric soft beneath his palm. A slight press and they were touching. Her back to his chest. His hard cock to the swell of her ass. His lips still pressed kisses up and down her neck; ghosting touches that caused her breath to hitch and tiny little tremors. He lifted his right arm and trailed down the smooth leather of his jacket until he reached her hand where clasped in her fingers was the room key. Lifting their hands together, he held the card over the pad on the door.

The click of the lock disengaging caused a tiny tremor of his own to take over his body; for beyond the closed door promised Heaven. Sweet ecstasy he only previously thought about at night when he was alone with his intrusive thoughts. When he wasn’t strong enough to block out the wanton whispered begging. To block out the taste and feel of her lips.

He stumbled forward when Cassie, apparently more with it than he, pushed the handle down and opened the door. He recovered quickly to enter the room. The door clicked shut behind them

“I’ve dreamed about this…”

His response was stolen when she spun around and kissed him. A desperate kiss that mirrored his own. His hands gripped her ass, fingerings digging in as he pressed her against his hard cock. He swallowed the moan the movement made. His tongue was demanding as it invaded her mouth dueling with hers.

A quick move had his leather jacket falling to the floor along with her purse. Her hands clutched at him trying to get closer to his body. She squirmed feeling his cock pressing against her belly. Her pussy throbbed, begging to be filled. Her fingers gripped his hair as she stood on tip toes. Then she was floated as he picked her up with his hands on her thighs. Her legs wrapped around his waist and the kiss broke on a moan when her back hit the wall.

“Sorry,” Damian whispered against her lips, breaths coming out heavily. He pressed into her, his hard cock right at the juncture of her thighs. His hands roamed freely. Up her bare thighs pushing that black dress up to her hips. Over her stomach and up her chest where he cupped her breasts. Kneading gently as his thumbs brushed over hidden nipples until they peddled under his touch. His hands ran up her neck feeling her pulse beating wildly where they cupped her face drawing her back to his. Their lips met again in a searing kiss and it was his turn to moan when her teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

“Let me suck your cock,” Cassie breathed. Her body pulsated with need. Her mind tunneled down to Damian and Damian alone. Nothing else mattered. She wanted him – needed him more than she needed her next breath. “Please…”

“You beg so prettily…” Damian murmured running a light touch of his finger down the side of her cheek. His thumb ran over her bottom lip. He groaned when her tongue dipped out and teased the pad of his thumb.

“I’m actually about to become quite feral. I need you so much…”

“Fuck Corazòn,” he ducked his head into neck and breathed. Her perfume consumed him. Once a tremor worked through him, he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Those words haunted me since Boston. I wake up with those words whispered in my ear. The feel of your mouth wrapped around me…”

He took a step back, letting her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor.

Cassie’s hands ran down his massive chest. She pressed a kiss over his heart. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his black t-shirt dipping beneath to find warm skin. The muscles rippled beneath her touch as she trailed her fingers along his stomach and the waistband of his jeans. A ghosting palm over his zipper drew a moan from his lips.

She pushed her hands beneath his shirt. As she moved up his hard chest, she moved his shirt with her hands baring his chest to her. Once her eyes caught skin she leaned down and pressed her lips to it. She kissed up the center of his chest, relishing in every hard breath she drew just from her kisses.

“Cassie…” Damian breathed and reached for his shirt rolled up into his armpits. He gripped the bunched material and pulled it up over his head. His head dropped back and his eyes closed as he lost himself to the feeling of her lips on him. He groaned when her tongue swiped over his nipple, drawing it into a stiff peak.

Cassie wanted to continue exploring every inch of his chest. Teasing his nipples with her tongue and sharp bites. Running her tongue over the tattoos sitting on each of his pecs. Tracing all the dips, lines, and ridges of muscles with her fingers and her tongue sucking little marks into the skin. That would come later. The thought caused her pussy to throb. Having him laying down on the bed, completely naked. Straddling his waist. Leaning down over him. Her hair hanging down tickling his skin as she mapped his body and committed it to memory.

“There’s so much I want…” God she wanted it all right now but for now she settled for sinking to her knees on the carpeted hotel room floor. Up on her knees she leaned forward and did what she told him she wanted to do back in Boston. Her lips pressed on the rough woven cotton twill feeling the hard ridge. She mouthed his hard length, listening to the soft moans falling from Damian’s lips. She placed a kiss to his stomach as she worked the button of his jeans open and lowered the zipper.

The sides parted revealing the black fabric of his boxers. Her fingers dug into the open flaps of his jeans as she leaned forward to mouth his cock. She moaned tasting the small circle of wet fabric where pre come had leaked. Her core quivered with each breath she breathed. The heady musky scent caused her mouth the water. She continued to mouth his cock through his boxers, finding the tip and drawing it into her mouth.

“Cassie…” Damian moaned. His shoulders hit the wall behind him as his legs weakened. He threaded his fingers through her hair. The strands tightened around his fingers when his fist hardened. “Let me in your mouth Corazòn…”

Cassie reached for his briefs and with the help of his free hand, pulled them down far enough to finally bare his cock to her. She moaned at the sight. Beautifully hard and tanned. A vein running up the underside. The mushroomed head glistening with a drop of come. She wasted no time in leaning forward. Her tongue licked up that pearl of come and she moaned as the salty, tangy flavor burst on her tongue.

His cock was hot in her hand when she wrapped it around the base. A squeeze drew a moan from Damian’s lips and she had an image of working him with her hand and swallowing his moans with her lips as she kissed him. Her pussy pulsed at the thought. Fluttering in quick movements and she wanted to press her own fingers inside her slick channel. That’s not what she wanted. She wanted him. His tongue. His fingers. His cock…

More Spanish curses dropped from Damian’s mouth when Cassie’s lips closed around the tip of his cock. Her tongue swirled over the head, teasing that tiny little pucker of skin on the underside of his head at the shaft. His cock throbbed in her tight hold. The hand not moving, simply holding him steady as she worked his tip.

Slowly she started to sink down, taking more and more of his length inside her mouth. Her tongue continued to stroke and tease at the vein in the underside, drawing delicious deeps breathy moans from Damian. Her lips stretched around his girth and her jaw ached. When her lips met her hand, she released her fingers and grabbed his hips for balance as she continued to swallow more of his smooth length.

“Ah fuck Corazòn,” Damian groaned when her nose pressed against the skin at the base of his cock completely free of pubic hair as he kept himself clean shaven. “You take me so good.” He pressed a thumb against one of his hollowed cheeks.

She pulled off him until her hand was able to grasp him once more. The shaft wet now from her saliva. With a tight grip she began to move up and down. Just short movements up to meet where her mouth still wrapped around him.

Mouthing the tip she let saliva fall from her lips to his cock. Her hand moved up and down the entire length collecting her spit allowing her hand to move easily as she concentrated at the tip. Working to draw more moans and Spanish words from Damian’s lips. She brought the tip to her lips, tracing lightly before licking over the tip with a flat tongue.

She took a breath and suck him back inside her mouth. His cock suctioned to the roof of his mouth. Her tongue worked the underside. Her hand worked his base again up to meet her lips and back down. Her eyes drifted up over stomach and chest to his head titled back against the wall so she could only see the prominent Adam’s apple and the sharp jawline.

Her left hand which had been gripping his thigh dipped to glaze over his balls. His cock pulsed at the touch, feeling it expand in her hand and mouth. She moaned around his length before releasing him from her mouth again. This time she ducked her hand and mouthed at his balls. She swiped her tongue over the loose, wrinkled pouch before drawing one side into her mouth. She gently moved the ball around before releasing it and doing the same to the other. With a lick up the center, she moved her hand to continue to lick up his entire length before swallowing his head once again.

She bobbed her head on his length faster, feeling his hips starting to rock into her. She worshipped his cock with her mouth and hand. A wince crossed her features when Damian’s hand squeezed a little too hard in her hair. Then it was used to pull her away as his hips moved back. His cock fell from her lips leaving a string of spit from her lips to the tip. Using her hand to wipe her lips, she looked up and nearly came at the look in Damian’s eyes as he stared at her.

“I don’t care what item you want to cross off that list Corazòn, but it better be one with my cock in your pussy right now.” Damian’s voice was deeper than she’s heard before. Her body trembled with anticipation as more of her heat soaked her panties. He guided her back to her feet with the hand in her hair and their lips collided. His tongue licked into her mouth as he turned them around pressing her into the wall he’d just been using to stay on his feet as she sucked him.

“Right here,” she breathed against his lips. Her hands moving across his skin and over his shoulder to around his neck. She pressed against him and lifted her knee against his thigh. He rewarded her by lifting her once again and she locked her legs around him. Thighs squeezing his waist. “Damian,” she cupped his face and touched their foreheads together. Their breaths mixing.

He gripped her hips pressing his cock against her covered center. “Condom?” His were in his toiletry kit all the way in his room, two floors up. The days of carrying one his in wallet were long gone as he moved on from random meaningless hookups years ago.

“Don’t need,” Cassie kissed the corner of his mouth as her hands moved down his shoulders and across his chest up his neck to his back. She rocked her hips against him, feeling his cock right where she needed him. “I’m safe. Protected.” She kissed his lips with each word. “I wanna feel you. Nothing between us.”

Damian’s eyes heated at the thought of slipping inside of her warm wet heat with nothing between them. His head hit her shoulder as he shivered. His hands moved over her hips and the bunched dress. Running up under the fabric his hands met the soft cotton of her panties. He gripped the fabric at her hip in one hand. His muscles rippled and bulged as he gave a sharp yank. The sound of fabric ripping echoed through the room.

The shredded fabric fell from his hand and his fingers moved to her center, guided by the heat. He slid between her folds and moaned at the amount of wetness he found. He leaned the upper part of his body back and was able to send two fingers deep inside her. Their moans mixed at the intrusion. “You’re so wet for me Corazòn.”

“Since you scared that guy away at the bar…” Cassie breathed, rocking her hips into his fingers. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders as she pressed her shoulders into the wall to help with her leverage. “Standing there looking all dark and threatening… ready to take him out for me…you could have taken me right then.”

“You’re mine,” Damian growled feeling a tinge of the anger he felt earlier seeing Cassie trapped against the bar returning.

“Yours,” Cassie echoed. Her right hand drifted to the back of his neck, tangling in his braids. Her fingernails gently scraping the skin at his nape. “So take me.”

Damian withdrew his fingers and wrapped his hand around his cock. He gave a couple short strokes in the confined space before lining up with her opening. Another line of Spanish - dirty words that sounded like a prayer fell from his lips as he sank into her. She clenched around him, greedily pulling him in.

“God Damian…”

A full body shudder worked through him when he reached the hilt; completely buried inside of her. Finally. His forehead rested against hers and breathed deeply trying to get his body under control. Her hands came up to cup his jaw and he kissed her.

A dirty, open mouthed kiss full of tongue. Long dueling strokes drawing moans causing muscles to tighten and fingers to clench.

Damian looked down as he pulled back, watching as he exited her body, his cock coated with her juices. With her legs locked around him he didn’t have a lot of movement. Their height difference made the position a little difficult. He pushed back in drawing a moan from her. His hands slipped down to cup her ass and he moved closer, crowding against her.

“Fuck me Damian,” Cassie whispered. The position left her vulnerable. She didn’t have the ability to move and could barely rock herself onto Damian’s cock. She was dependent on him.

“Te entendí Corazòn,” Damian answered dropping his lips back to hers. He pulled out and snapped his hips back in drawing another moan. “I got you,” he whispered.

The rhythm remained steady. His hips moving in and out. He could feel her thighs tightening around him as she tried to move against him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders. His body the only thing holding her up.

“Damian,” she breathed. Her hand tangled in his hair again pulling her head to him. She ran her tongue over his ear tracing the shell. She drew the lobe between her teeth nibbling slightly.

Damian groaned and turned his head toward her to kiss her again. As he kissed her, he slid his hands up her legs toward her knees before dipping to the inside of her thighs. Her hands once against clutched at him. “I got you Corazòn,” he whispered but he slowed to a stop seated deep inside of her. Using his hips as leverage, he continued to move his hands down the insides of her thighs. “Unhook your legs…”

When she uncrossed her thighs he was able to get his arms underneath. He hook her thighs, his forearms under her knees. His hands back on the soft globes of her ass. The position opened her up wider and he swore he sunk deeper. “Hold on.”

The newish position allowed him to slap against her clit with each snap of his hips. She moaned loudly and dug her fingers into his shoulders. She arched her back trying to angle her hips to increase the pleasure shooting through her. Her head hit the ball behind her and she gasped when Damian’s teeth sank into the curve of her neck. “Damian,” she chanted his name. Her hands ran over his skin covered by a sheen layer of sweat.

“You feel so good in my cock, Corazòn,” Damian murmured into her ear. He felt her shiver and her pussy clenching around him. His fingers dug into her ass using the leverage to pull her back to slam onto him. Her hands continuously touched him, leaving a fire in their wake. There were light ghosting touches and firm swipes of her hand. Nails piercing into his skin accompanied by the tightening of her walls around him.

“I’m gonna come,” Cassie whispered, the feeling coming out of nowhere. The tension coiling deep in her stomach. Goosebumps rose across her body. Pleasure swelled. Her fingers gripped his shoulders and she slid one hand back to his hair where she used it to guide his lips back to hers. Her lips parted allowing his tongue to enter her mouth. Desperate strokes that she broke as she moaned out his name.

“Dios Mio,” Damian leaned his forehead against the wall next to her. His thrusts intensified sliding in and out of her pussy. He pushed deeper and deeper clutching her ass mirroring his movements. His legs trembled as a sensation flooded his entire being. Like a Jack in the box’s handle being turned and turned. Each crank of the handle bringing him closer to explosion.

“Don’t stop,” Cassie pleaded.

“Never stopping,” Damian grunted, rutting into her. Their lips met again in a charged kissed. There was no finesse just a mash of lips, teeth, and tongue. “Cas…”

“Come inside me,” Cassie moaned as their kiss broke.

A harsh, guttural sound released from Damian’s mouth. “Not… until…you… come.”

Cassie’s mouth dried and her ears were filled with the sound of roaring and her blood pumped furiously through her veins. She whimpered and her eyes fluttered closed. She clenched around him and she wondered if it was a desperate attempt to keep him inside of her. Her fingers clawed at his chest leaving behind red marks in his beautiful bronzed skin.

A whisper of orgasm first appeared at the base of her spin. Slowly building, tension accumulating, invisible strands twisting and binding tighter and tighter. Then it was an explosion of euphoric pleasure ripping through her, stealing her breath.

“That’s it Corazòn,” Damian moaned as he felt her body tightened around him nearly trapping him. She shuddered in his arms as her orgasm washed over her. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he chanted the rush of her essence covering his cock as he slipped easily in and out of her. His own orgasm swelled and bubbled.

He sped up slamming his hips into her hard enough she was moaning with each slap. The corded muscles in his arms bulged and rippled as his fingers dug into her ass so hard he feared he’d leave marks.

‘I don’t have tattoos but I’d wear those marks proudly.’

The whispered words of a memory sent him over the edge. He slammed into her one final time and he came with a roar. His cock pulsed with each ejection of come deep inside her. His head tilted back to look at the ceiling but his eyes were unseeing as they clenched shut against the mix of pleasurable pain shooting through him. He hissed as her pussy clenched around him drawing another spurt of come from his cock.

His head fell to her shoulder as he slumped into her. His breath coming out heavy. His heart pounding wildly in his chest like he ran a marathon. His mind a hazy fog of post orgasmic relief. He could feel her hands on his back. Her arms cradling him to her, accepting his weight.

“No way I can give this dress back to Bianca.”

Damian laughed, his body quaking as he lifted his head. He pressed his hips into her as he shuffled a half step forward to secure her against the wall. Then he unhooked his arms from beneath her legs allowing her crossed them behind his back. The option cause him to press further into her and he moaned softly, his eyes closing.

He blinked his eyes back open and reached up to brush the hair out of her face. A smile grew in his lips as he watched her smile. A soft smile as her cheeks reddened in a blush that had his heart stumbling. Her eyes lowered until he placed a knuckle under her chin to raise it back up. “You okay?”

Cassie nodded and placed her hands on his cheeks. She guided his lips to hers. This time the kiss was much softer. Their lips moved together gently. Her hands slipped to the back of his head and she cradled him against her. The frantic lust building from the club disappeared. In its place was a calm loving.

“Hold on to me,” Damian whispered against her lips. He let his weight rest against her as he toed off his shoes. Then it was twisting and tugging to pull off Cassie’s boots. With his hands under her ass, he removed her from the wall and walked them into the bathroom. He pulled his cock from her pussy – still half hard and definitely interested in round two. Especially as he watched Cassie pull the dress up and over her head leaving her only in a black lacy bra.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her as he lowered his head to kiss her. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before he broke it to run his lips down her neck to her chest. He kissed the swell of her breast and licked her nipple through the lace. The fabric grew wet as he licked and sucked her nipple.

“Damian…” Cassie breathed, arching her back to send her breast into his mouth.

He switched breasts and reached behind her to unhook her bra with one hand. He lifted his head and ran his fingers down her arms as he pushed the bra straps down. When the article fell to the floor he ducked his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He licked and sucked gently while his hand kneaded her other breast; rolling and pinching the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Cassie groaned softly her head falling back. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him to her breast. Heat built again in her stomach. Lust rolled through her and her pussy clenched. She rubbed her thighs together against the pressure. Damian’s come dribbled from her and down the insides of her thighs.

She stepped back before she hopped up on the counter and spread her legs. “Shower first,” she told him when he shot her a questioning look. Taking the hair tie from her wrist, she gathered her hair up into a messy bun at the top of her head before pulling the curtain aside. The water was icy cold before it quickly warmed. It took only a few moments to wash her body and turn the water back off.

“You never joined me,” Cassie said, walking from the bathroom stuttering to a stop when she saw Damian laying on her bed. Stripped naked his entire body on display. Strong calves leading to thick thighs each covered in corse light brown hair. The trim waist and flat stomach with just the hint of definition. Wide chest with massive shoulders. Arms—

She gulped as her eyes stared at the tattooed covered right arm. Muscles rippling and twitching as his hand gripped his cock. Hard. Tip weeping. Come dribbling down the head to the shaft where Damian’s fingers picked it up massaging it back into his skin.

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she watched -nearly in a trance- as he tugged and pulled his hard length.

“Corazòn…”

Cassie’s eyes flickered from his cock to his face. His eyes were consumed with arousal. Lids so heavy he could barely open them as he stared at her through his lashes. “Fucking hotter than I imagined…”

“Come here Corazòn.” Damian motioned her with his free hand.

“So fucking hot.” Cassie murmured as she climbed up on the bed; her knees on either side of his legs. She ran her hands up his legs to his knees. The random small tattoo of scales on the top side of his right calf drew her gaze and she leaned down, bracing herself with her left hand on the mattress. She traced the black ink with the tip of her tongue while running her hand up and down his leg. Light teasing touches.

Leaving the tattoo she continued placing kisses up his right leg over his knee before switching to his left and offering the same treatment. Nothing but soft open mouthed kisses leaving behind a hint of wetness paired with the soft tantalizing touches of her fingertips. Moving up either leg to his thighs. The coarse hair more prominent and tickled her lips.

His cock loomed in front of her. His fingers loosely wrapped around the turgid length. The movements more lazy. She bypassed it to continue placing kisses on his thighs and she settled on his knees trying to keep her weight off his legs.

She kissed the crease of his thighs, following that musky scent down toward his protruding cock. When she reached it, she lifted and did the same in the opposite side. Smiling against his skin at his moan.

“You’re such a tease,” Damian tangled his hand in her hair, his fingers squeezing the bun her hair was wrapped in. With a tug he had her moving up his body until she was straddling his waist and her lips were on his.

Cassie started undulating her hips. Her knees tucked in close against his side. His hard cock pressed between her folds providing a delicious pressure on her clit with each rocking motion of her hips. She titled her head back releasing a moan and Damian’s lips attacked her bared neck.

“Use me Princesa,” Damian peppered her neck in kisses. He ran his hands up and down her back. He gripped her hips and flexed his hips pressing his cock firmly against her. His cock pulsed at the moan Cassie emitted. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To ride me…”

Cassie hummed as she moved her hips faster. “I also wanted to trace all your tattoos with my tongue but you interrupted me…”

“I’m not stopping you,” Damian’s lips moved across her cheek back to her mouth. He took advantage of a moan, slipping his tongue between her lips. Long strokes that had her moaning into his mouth. Had her coating his cock with her creamy essence.

“Better… offer…” Cassie gasped and stopped her hips as a tiny tremor shot through her. She pressed her forehead against his chest, her body quivering with need.

She lifted her hips feeling his hands on them helping her slide down on him, taking him inside her heat inch by inch.

“Shit Corazòn,” Damian breathed as she sunk completely down on top of him. His fingers dug into her hips as he held her still. He hissed, his eyes shut as he tilted his head back in the pillow, when she clenched around him.

Full was the first thought Cassie had as she sat back. Her back arched sending her breasts popping out. Her head tossed back staring at the ceiling behind closed eyes. A delicious stretch that nearly had her whimpering. Her pussy fluttered around him, milking him. Her breath caught when she felt him flex sending his hips into her causing him to go that much deeper.

Her head fell forward, eyes catching his. She smiled and ran her hands down his chest. Her nails let behind tiny red marks that would fade before the morning light. The scratches drew soft moans as the hold he had in her hips became just the right side of painful.

She moved her hips in a circular motion first. Then back and forth rocking against him. Her hands constantly moved in his chest. Hard chest muscles to the soft skin of his stomach and back up again. Keeping her hips in motion causing soft breathy moans to fall from his lips. Her thumbs flicked his nipples on the next bypass. Then they were moving to his shoulders and down his arms. Her fingers barely touching the skin. Her hands covered his on her still gyrating hips. She pulled his hands away and entwined their fingers.

Cassie pressed their tangled fingers down onto the pillow in either side of his head. Their hips continued their dance – rocking and gyrating together. Leaning over him their eyes met. His black as coal filled with lust and desire. She imagined hers looked the same. A darker shade of green than she normally saw in the mirror. Bursting with her own desperate need for the man beneath her.

Dipping her head, her lips caught his. Conveying her desperation in the heated kiss. She felt him trying to lift his arms, but she kept him pinned. A thrill rushed through her knowing he had the power to flip them and take control. The though caused a gush of liquid at her center and she clenched tightly drawing another moan from his lips.

Moving slowly, Cassie came up off his cock rocking back down using her knees. Twin moans filled the room at the sensation. He met her motion with one of his own, coming up to met her sending his cock back deep inside of her. Their motion stayed steady. Their lips moved together. Tongues meshing with long strokes. Teeth sank into lips in sharp nips. Fingers gripped and relaxed only to grip again. Almost the same motion as their hips working together.

“Por favor dejame tocarte,” Damian whispered against her lips. “I need to touch you Corazòn…”

Cassie released his hands as she fell to her elbows. His arms immediately wrapped around her waist. Warm hands danced up her back. Her nipples, pulled taunt in arousal, rubbed lightly against his chest at their movements. Those same arms wrapped around her waist squeezing before sending his hands in motion again.

Perfectly round breasts dangled over Damian’s head; too enticing to ignore. Not that he would ever want to. His hands traveled up her back to pull her down to him at the same time his head lifted off the pillow to draw a taunt peak into his mouth. Her moan hit his ears as he suckled her. His teeth biting down hard enough to draw a moan that went straight to his cock. Still incased in that tight wet heat he never wanted to leave.

His hands ran up her back and dipped around to cup her breasts; squeezing the globes as he changed nipples. He sucked the nipple into his mouth as he worked it in his hand while his other hand squeezed and rolled her free nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She continued to rock against him. Her breaths coming out in gasps against his ministrations. His hands left her breasts to trail to her back and down cupping the globes of her ass. His fingers dug into the meaty flesh pulling the cheeks apart.

Her body shifted on top of him and suddenly the strokes got longer. She was pulling herself further off his cock to sink back on. He released her nipple from his mouth and moaned. His arms tightened around her waist and his hips rocked up into her. His coming up off the bed in order to fully penetrate her.

Cassie’s lips attached to his neck and if he had half a thought left in his brain that wasn’t completely focused on her, Damian would have told her to be easy. He didn’t need a hickey. However he was consumed by the feel, touch, and taste of her. He simply cocked his head to give her better access.

A hand on her ass. The other across her back resting on her shoulder. He held her body to him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He braced his heels into the mattress to better leverage his hips. Up and into her center. The slap of skin joining the soft moans. The smell of sex heavy in the room.

Their mouths met again. Filled with heat. Damian’s hand run up her back to tangle in her hair. The strands falling from the messy updo from the shower. With a yank, the mess of brown curls fell like a curtain around his head. The outside world was gone and it was just them.

“Damian,” Cassie whispered as she pushed herself up with a moan. He sank back into her as she fully seated herself on him. Then slowly she started rocking on him; working her hips back and forth. Side to side. In circles. All of them. Any motion. The pads of her fingers dug into his chest. Her head tossed back. Hair raining down her back; long tresses tickling the curve of her ass. Her mouth opened on a moan. The movements of her hips stimulating her clit against Damian’s pubic bone.

“Fuck yeah,” Damian breathed. His hands fells to her hips helping her movements as she chased her orgasm. Using him. His cock pulsed, plumping at the thought. Eyes heavy with desire, he stared at her through his lashes. Perched on top of him taking what she wanted.

‘I wanna ride you to completion…’

“Ride me Corazòn,” Damian murmured. He could feel his own orgasm building and he struggled to hold it off. He wanted this for her. For him. Fuck it was hot.

“Damian…” Cassie whispered moving faster. Her rhythm faltered as she became desperate chasing that euphoric bright light.

“That’s it, Princesa…” his fingers dug into her hips. With a tightening of his ass, he flexed his hips, hardened his lower abs providing more stimulation. He was rewarded with a soft cry. “Ride my cock. Take what you need. Dios Mio Cas, you feel so good. You’re gripping me so hard. So tight.”

“Dame…” His name came out in nearly a whine. Warmth covered her entire body. Her movements were nearly frantic. Tingling started in her fingers and toes working its way up each extremity. Little bolts of electricity causing her body to twitch. A low moan escaped as the firings all converge deep in her belly. Coiling tighter and tighter. “Oh…”

“Come on Corazòn… give it to me…Come on my cock…Fuck…” Damian moaned, gripping her hips as Cassie’s orgasm tore through her. She clenched around him like a vice and his eyes nearly rolled back. He fought to keep them on her face to watch the pleasure crossing her features. She slumped forward and he was waiting. He wrapped his arms around her cradling her to his chest as tremors zapped her body. “Fuck…” he breathed in her ear; his hands moving in light touches up and down her back. “That was so hot Corazòn. When I’m alone in my hotel room next week, this is what I’m gonna picture when I’m stroking my cock. You above me. Riding my cock. Your pussy griping me so tight… those breathy little moans. They way you bit your lip…”

“You better FaceTime me whenever you find your cock in your hand and I’m not around,” Cassie murmured and used one hand to push slightly off his body. Enough so she could look down at him. Their eyes met. Damian’s still full of want. Tinged with a desperation she felt only a few moments before. Liquid heat poured from her center and she clenched at the look in his eyes. Warmth settling over her again.

Her hand cupped his face. Her forearm laying in his chest. Thumb moving across his cheek bone she leaned down and kissed him. Could feel the desperation on his lips. Could feel the tension still coursing through his body causing it to nearly vibrate. “I love you.”

Damian’s eyes flared and Cassie found herself on her back with him looming above her. Their connection still intact with his cock deep inside of her. Her eyes filled; desire overtaking her once more at the manhandling movement.

“Eres mi cielo en la tierra Corazòn,” Damian’s voice came out low and husky, laced with a type of longing he had never felt before. “I love you.”

Then he started to move. Long strokes in and out of tight wet heat. His hips snapping against her with each stroke drawing a moan from her kiss swollen lips. Desire took over and he was no longer in control. Spiraling as he slammed into her.

“Damian…” Cassie moaned. She could do nothing but hang on. Her hands struggling to find purchase on his sweat slicked skin. His hot breath ghosted across her skin as he breathed heavily. She tangled one of her hands in his hair and brought his lips to hers.

The kiss was messy. An uncoordinated meeting of lips and over zealous tongues. Desperately dueling and mating. Each stroke building toward complete and utter destruction.

“Roll me over…” Cassie pleaded between kisses.

Damian withdrew and helped Cassie turn over. Barely waiting for her to be set before he slammed back into her. A yelp broke through his desire ridden haze and he slowed to a stop. “Sorry I…”

“Keep going…” Cassie clenched the sheets below her in tight fists. She dropped her belly and popped her ass. Her knees spread on either side of Damian’s. “Fuck me Damian.”

‘Take what you need…’

He was unleashed.

Damian’s hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he pounded into her. That sweet silky cavern welcoming him. Clenching around him in desperate measures to keep him deep inside her. The smell of her arousal permeated the room and his mouth watered. He wanted to pull his cock out and bury his tongue deep inside her licking until she exploded and her essence covered his tongue, lips, and chin.

A gun to his head couldn’t get him to pull out.

“Cassie,” he groaned. A hand shifting off her hip and up her back feeling every vertebra in her spine until his fingers unfurled and spread between her shoulder blades. He pushed her into the mattress changing the angle of his strokes hitting the spot inside her that caused her to cry out. “Fuck yes,” he growled. “Come for me again Corazòn. I want it all.”

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. Not in pain. Oh no. She was riding on a wave of complete pleasure. Higher and higher into the sky. He hit her g-spot on every stroke send a current though her body until she was trembling uncontrollably. The build was nothing like she ever felt before. Her vision started to grey around the edges.

“Damian…”

“Give it to me. Now Cassie.”

With a wail pulled from somewhere she’d never known before, an orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy convulsed as a flood of liquid coated his cock and her thighs.

“Fuck…” Damian continued to fuck Cassie through her orgasm trying to hold off but it was impossible. She pulled him right over the edge with her. With a roar he slammed into her as his cock exploded. His vision whited out as a white-hot pleasure consumed him. Blood roared in his ears. Every muscle in his body seized. A short cry fell from his lips with each twitch of his cock as it released rope after rope of come deep inside her. His chest heaved, his lungs on fire. His heart beat frantically in his chest and he was certain he was dying.

‘What a way to go…’

Everything came back online at once. His vision cleared revealing the hotel room cast in the amber glow of the bedside lamp on its lowest brightness setting. His ears popped and he could hear the ding of the elevator arriving nearly half way down the hall. A schnick of a door closing somewhere on their floor. The low hum of the mini fridge. An electrical charge still ran through his body causing a tingling hum. Like he’d been using a weed-eater.

As his brain caught up, he noticed his hand still on Cassie’s shoulders and he quickly released it. His fingers traced random patterns on her back. The touch heightened by the vibrations in his body. Her body twitched. Little tiny tremors as muscles worked through the after shocks.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. A soft ghosting touch of his lips. He watched goosebumps break out as his breath danced over her skin.

The position gave him access to the bedside table where he placed the damp wash cloth he used to clean up after their earlier bout. With it in his hand, he withdrew causing two twin moans. He watched as his come leaked from Cassie’s swollen pussy. His cock gave a valiant effort to feign interest but he was spent. He wiped her gently before climbing from the bed. His legs shook reminding him of a newborn horse.

“Shower…” he ran his fingers up the edge of her back. He smiled as she groaned and turned her head to face him. He brushed the hair from her face and leaned down to kiss her.

With a groan and quivering limbs, Cassie stood and followed Damian into the bathroom. They showered quickly. As Cassie dried her hair, Damian pulled the covers back. He picked up his jacket from the floor inside the door and wrapped it around the chair at the desk. He placed her purse on the table. Withdrawing her phone, he plugged it in to the cord dangling on the bedside table. His jeans were tossed over the chair and his jacket after he placed his wallet next to her purse. He put his phone next to hers and wished he had his charger.

All thoughts of going back to his room to grab his things died when she stepped from the bathroom naked.

“Rhea might have to drive tomorrow after all,” Cassie said as she moved back into the bedroom. “A couple more rounds like that will definitely kill me.”

Damian chuckled, preening a little at her words. “I’ll drive.”

Cassie stared at him, eyes hopeful. “To Cleveland tomorrow? Aren’t you flying home?”

Damian came to a stop in front of her. He cupped her cheek and titled her head up. “That was before you ambushed me.”

“Ambushed or put us out of our misery?”

“Both.” Damian slipped an arm around her back, pulling her to his body. “But I’m glad you did.”

Cassie smile and palmed his cheeks with both of her hands. She kissed him lightly. “Me too.”

They released each other and crawled into bed. Cassie turned the light off before rolling over to curl into Damian’s side. Her head on his chest. His heart beat in her ear. His breath teasing the little fly aways of her hair.

“Next time I get drunk and tell you what I want to do to you, you’ll indulge me?”

Damian’s chuckled reverberated in her ear. “Hundred percent Corazòn.”

“That’s what I saved my name as in your phone,” Cassie’s voice softened with sleep as her eyes grew heavy. Warmness settled over her.

“Perfect.” Damian pressed a kiss into her hair. His hand came up to settle on hers resting on his chest.

“Hey Damian?”

Damian hummed in response as his body sunk into the mattress; lulled to an almost sleep state by the warm covers and an even warmer body snuggled against his side.

“I love you.”

“Love you too Corazòn.”

[rosecoloredsunshine]

heartbreak warfare — tate langdon

masterlist

PAIRINGS: tate langdon x female!reader

SUMMARY: drawn to his quiet intensity, you fall into a love that feels inevitable, desperate, and doomed. but the house is filled with ghosts, and tate is not just a boy—he is a tragedy, a storm you didn't see coming until it was too late.

REMINDERS: please be reminded that this is a work of fiction. meaning that all events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, messy and toxic relationship (but not really highlighted in the story), angst (i guess), and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 2k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i honestly don't know what went on with my thought process when i wrote this, i think this is not one of my best written story, it's kind of messy and a bit random for me. but i hope you guys enjoy this one!

The house was wrong from the very start.

You knew it the moment you stepped through the front door, past the stained-glass panels and the creaking wood floors that sighed beneath your weight. The air also felt heavy, like it had been trapped inside for decades, festering. You tried your best to ignore all of it. Your parents, eager for a fresh start, had brushed off your unease, fully convinced that a historic home with ‘character’ was exactly the family needed. But then soon came the voices. The shadows in the corners that flickered when you looked too closely, and the nightmares that were not really nightmares at all.

And then, there was him. Tate Langdon. Tate appeared the way ghosts always do—when you were not looking for him. The first time that you saw him, he was sitting on the floor of your bedroom, his back against the bed, legs stretched out, completely at ease in a place he did not belong. His golden curls fell into his eyes, dark and knowing, and he smiled like he had been waiting for you.

“Hey,” he said so casually, like it was all normal, Like it made sense.

You did not scream. Well you should have, but there’s something in his voice that softened the edges of your fear. Instead, you swallowed hard and took a step back towards the door.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said.

He tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. “Neither should you.”

That was how it all began. It was not love at first sight, no. It was something darker, deeper, more insidious than that. It was a slow unraveling, a quiet pull in your chest that tightened every time he was near. Tate Langdon was magnetic in a way that made no sense, a storm you didn't see coming until you were already caught in it.

Tate made you feel seen. In a house that is filled with echoes and ghosts that whispered your name in the dark, he was solid. He looked at you like you mattered, like he wanted you, and so, you let him in. From there on, late night conversations on the floor of your bedroom, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. Stolen moments in the hallways, with his touch lingering just a second too long. Kisses pressed to your forehead, your jaw, lips—gentle, at first, before they become something that is desperate, that aches. It was not love. Not really. It was loneliness that was disguised as something beautiful.

Then one night, you woke up to screaming. Not yours, not your parents’, but hers. You followed the sound down the hall, heart pounding, breath catching in your throat. You saw her—Violet Harmon, another girl, another ghost, another shattered soul that is trapped inside this god forsaken house. You had heard of her through Tate, but never actually gotten to talk to her. She was crying, her voice raw with something beyond pain, with Tate standing in front of her.

Not the boy who kissed you in the quiet. Not the boy who traced your name onto fogged-up windows. This Tate was something else. A shadow, a storm. Violet shrank away from him, her body trembling, and you knew, deep inside of you, that this had happened before. You had spent enough time looking at Tate through the light that you forgot to check the darkness, his darkness. When Tate turned towards you, his face softened into something apologetic, pleading, and you knew. You knew, and it didn't matter. It was already too late.

You pulled away after that. Stopped answering when he whispered your name, stopped letting his hands find yours in the dark. You saw him for what he was, and it hurt more than it should have. Tate tried to explain, tried to promise that it was not what you thought, but his actions told another story.

“Tate, I can’t,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I can’t be part of this.”

Tate looked at you like you had ripped something out of him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you do,” you said, shaking your head. “You already have.”

Tate had never been real, not really. He was a boy made of ghosts, grief, of a past that is too heavy to carry, and you had loved him anyway—or maybe, you had loved the lie.

There are times that you want to leave. But leaving him was impossible, because Tate was a part of the house, and the house wouldn't let you go. No matter how much distance you tried to put between you, he was always there—watching, waiting, and hoping. You hate him for it, but you hated yourself more, because despite the terror, tragedy, and the weight of his mistakes, there were nights that you still wanted him. Nights when you ached for the warmth of his hands, the way he said your name like it was sacred.

You could not forgive Tate, but you could not stop loving him either, and maybe, that was the cruelest thing of all.

The house was quiet one night, but it was the kind of quiet that weighed heavy, thick like fog that you could almost choke on if you let it. Your parents had gone to bed hours ago, their bedroom door closed, and their arguments for once silenced by exhaustion. You wished that you could say the same for yourself.

You had been lying wide awake in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, watching the way the shadows from the street lamps bled in through your blinds. You kept thinking about Violet, the way she had flinched from Tate. The way Tate’s face had not changed at first—eyes red and cheeks stained with tears before he realized you were there, watching. Your hands still trembled when you thought about it, and you could still hear her crying if you listened hard enough, even though you knew she was not there anymore. Maybe she never really was.

Pressing your face into your pillow, you fought the urge to scream, cry, do anything that could potentially wake your family and force you to explain the things you had seen. You were not even sure if they would believe you, and you were not sure if you wanted them to. Knowing the truth was its own kind of prison. But that night, something gnawed at you, something tugged, and eventually, you gave in. You decide to slide out from under your sheets as quietly as you could, bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor, sending a chill up your legs. You grabbed your sweatshirt from the end of the bed, put it on, and went out of your room.

The house was dark, too dark. There was something about the murder house during the nighttime—it was as if the house became a living, breathing thing. Walls pulsed with the weight of memory, and you could hear it in the silence. The wood groaned underneath, and you winced with every step, heart pounding too fast in your chest.

Tate was sitting right outside your door. He looked small like that, smaller than you had remembered. Curled in on himself, knees bent, arms wrapped tightly around them. His fingers were white-knuckled where they gripped his sleeves, and head tipped forward slightly, blonde curls falling in front of his face. He looked like he was praying, or mourning, or maybe both.

You hesitated, stomach twisting painfully, a sick knot you could not untangle. Part of you wanted to turn around, lock yourself inside your room, and pretend that Tate was not there. Pretend that he had not been haunting the edges of your life from the moment you stepped into this house. Pretend that you had not let him in. But instead, your feet carried you forward. You sat down next to him slowly, back pressed against the wall. You didn't look at him first, you couldn't. Your eyes fixed on the opposite side of the hall, tracing the grain in the wood paneling, as if it might offer some kind of answer. Some kind of escape.

The silence stretched between you, taut and aching. You could hear his breathing, it was uneven, ragged at the edges. You could feel his presence like a heat at your side, a gravity that pulled at you no matter how much you resisted, and finally, he spoke.

“Do you hate me?”

Tate’s voice was soft. Not the kind of soft he used when he would whisper your name in the dark, this one is different. Raw. It scraped down your spine, leaving splinters in its wake. You swallowed hard, your throat burned like you had been holding back tears for days. Maybe you had, but you don’t know anymore at this point.

“I don’t know,” you said, voice cracking on the last word.

It wasn't a lie.

You wanted to hate him. God, you should have hated him. You should have hated the things he had done and the things that he was still capable of. You should have hated the way he lied to you with every soft touch, every kiss, every hollow promise. You should have hated the way he made you forget all of it when he looked at you like you were his salvation. But you couldn't, you were not sure you ever could.

You heard Tate exhale slowly, like your answer had gutted him. Maybe it had, but you did not look at him. You kept staring ahead, heart pounding so hard that it hurts. Your hands were in your lap, gripping the hem of your sweatshirt to keep them from shaking, but it was not working. Tate shifted beside you, leaning his head back against the wall. You could feel the movement, feel the way his body relaxed just slightly even though his hands were still clenched. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but didn't dare.

“I love you,” he said so quietly, you almost did not hear it, but you did.

The words hit you in the chest. You let your head fall forward, hair shielding your face, and lungs burned like you had been underwater for too long.

“Don't…” you trailed off, “don’t say that.”

“I love you.”

Tate kept saying it, over and over again, like it might make it true. Like it might fix something. You closed your eyes, nails digging into your palms. You hated him for this, for making you feel this way—not letting you walk away, for being so much a part of you now that you didn't know where he ended and you began.

“You don’t know what love is,” you said finally, voice low and trembling. “You just take things. You take and take and you ruin them.”

Tate was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was broken. “I know. But I never wanted to ruin you.”

You wanted to believe him, at least a part of you did. Maybe that was the worst part of all. You finally turned your head, finally looked at him. His eyes were glassy, bloodshot, rimmed with exhaustion and something deeper—something like regret. You wondered if he even had the capacity to feel regret, if it mattered. You let your head thump back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. You could head the faint hum of the house around you, walls breathing in time with your own ragged inhalations.

“We’re already ruined,” you whispered. “Both of us.”

Tate did not argue with you. He didn't offer any soft lies or pretty promises. He just sat there in silence, hands finally inching closer until his pinky brushed against yours. It was a featherlight touch, a quiet question. You didn't move away, didn't answer him either, because there wasn't an answer, not really. You could hate him tomorrow, could leave him tomorrow, and could pretend he didn't already have a part of you that he’d never give back.

But not tonight. Tonight, you sat next to him in the dark hallway of a house that had already swallowed too much. Your fingers brushed, bodies close but not touching, and in the suffocating quiet, in the heartbeat between what was and what would never be again, you and Tate both understood—this was all that was left.

It was never going to be enough.

© rosecoloredsunshine, 2025

[winchesterwild78]

Broken pt 6

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (wife)

Warnings: mention of death, child injury, child birth

A/N:  Idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. This one is a little different than what I usually write. This chapter is the last one. Please enjoy 

Minors DNI 18+

I was almost 8 ½ months pregnant and we were headed to the hospital for some tests and a checkup. 

The most recent test had to be done at the hospital in the event it induced labor. I was terrified. 

Jensen had wrapped filming so we were back home and planning for our newest arrival. 

He put all his other projects on hold for a while so he was home when the baby came and afterwards. 

Arriving at the hospital I noticed a flurry of activity. I overheard a nurse say there was a horrible accident and they had at least 5 casualties and a child coming in. My heart stopped. 

“Honey, are you okay?” Jensen asked. “No. Did you hear her?” He looked solemn, “yeah I did.” 

We got checked in and sat down. The nurse at the desk told us due to the emergency we would have to wait a little longer. We nodded. 

I sat anxiously but I couldn’t stop thinking about the accident. A few minutes later I saw the ambulance pull up and they pushed in the gurney. 

I looked up and saw the little girl. She had blonde hair that was matted with blood and her little hand was still clinging to her stuffed moose.

I gasped when I saw her and tears fell. 

“Baby, don’t look.” “Oh Jens, look at her. She’s so tiny.” 

They took her back and I stood to go to the bathroom. As I walked past the group of nurses I overheard them talking about the accident. 

Apparently someone hit the van the little girl was in and her parents and other siblings were killed. I stood frozen, listening to them. My hand instinctively laid on my belly. 

“Yeah. She’s all alone. No family, next of kin. She’s going to have to go to foster care when she’s released.” 

I gasped softly. When I came back from the bathroom I was crying. Jensen held me, “Shh baby it’s okay. She’s going to be fine. The doctors are going to take care of her.” 

I looked at Jensen, my voice barely audible, “She’s all alone Jens. Her parents, her siblings. They’re all gone. I heard the nurse say she had to go into foster care.” My heart broke for her. 

I was still crying when the nurse called me back. Jensen’s hand on the small of my back as we walked through the winding halls. 

That’s when I heard a soft voice crying out for their mother. I stopped walking. “Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Jensen asked as I stopped. 

I shook my head no and followed the sound. I walked into the room where the little girl was. She looked so tiny laying in the bed. Still clinging on to her moose. Her tiny fingers held it like it was the only thing giving her life. 

“Do you know where my mommy is?” Her soft voice asked as she looked at me. I sat down beside her, Jensen walked in the room. 

“I know you. My mommy loves you.” She smiled softly at Jensen. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Jensen asked. “My name is Nichole, and this is Sammy.” She held up the moose. Jensen chuckled. 

“Well Nichole, I’m Jensen, and this is Y/N. We just wanted to come in and check on you. We heard you got hurt and we wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

She smiled up at Jensen and then at me. “You have a baby in your tummy?” She pointed to my belly and I shook my head yes. “It’s going to be a little boy.” 

“Mommy has a baby in her belly too but I’m not supposed to tell anyone yet.” 

My heart sank. I looked at Jensen and the tears I’d been holding started to fall. 

The nurse came in, “Mr and Mrs Ackles, we need to go.” We nodded and stood, I took Nichole’s hand, “We’ll be back sweetie as soon as we check on him, okay?” She nodded. 

We went to the room where the test was going to be and all I could think about was Nichole. “Mrs. Ackles, did you hear me?” The nurse asked. “Oh I’m sorry, what?” “Can you lift your shirt for me? I need to go ahead and take a scan before we can start the amniocentesis.” 

I shook my head and lifted my shirt. Jensen held my hand, “Breathe baby.” I nodded and took a breath in and let it out. My mind wandered from our baby to Nichole. 

The doctor came in to perform the tests and I was told to lay very still. I was terrified, especially when I saw the needle. We really didn’t want to have the testing done, but due to the high risk of the pregnancy the doctor felt knowing all factors prior to the birth would be our best bet. We reluctantly agreed. 

Once the test was over I had to stay still and at the hospital for a little bit. They wanted to make sure the baby was okay and there were no complications from the test. 

After a few hours I was free to go. Before we left I told Jensen I wanted to see Nichole again. He worked his charm on the nurses and we were escorted to her room.

She sat on the bed playing with her moose and watching cartoons, Scooby Doo to be exact. A smile spread across Jensen’s face and he sat down on the chair beside the bed to watch it with her. You chuckled when you saw them. 

“Want to sit with me?” Her sweet voice broke through as she looked at Jensen and scooted over in the bed. He smiled and nodded. He sat beside her, a little on the edge and a little on the bed. She climbed in his lap and snuggled down with the moose in her hand. 

I sat on the chair opposite the bed and watched them giggle and watch the episode. My heart was so full. 

We stayed for a few hours and then we were being told we had to leave because visiting hours were over. I tried to protest, the nurse in charge of her care placed her hand on my arm, “She’ll be okay. I’m here all night with her. You can come visit tomorrow. Besides, you need to get some rest too. For him.” She nodded to my belly. 

I knew she was right, but I hated the idea of leaving her alone. She hugged Jensen tightly and gave me a hug too. Looking at my belly she asked if she could tell the baby good bye. I nodded, she placed her hand on my belly and got close. “Night baby. I can’t wait to meet you.” A pang of sadness ripped through my heart. 

Jensen and I left the hospital and most of the ride home was quiet. He took my hand and kissed it softly, “Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart.” “Jens, she’s all alone. I hate that she's leaving that hospital and going home with strangers.” “I know, baby. She’s such a sweet kid.” I looked over at him and saw a smile on his face, “You really enjoyed watching cartoons with her didn’t you?” He smiled and nodded, “Yeah, when she curled up in my lap it really took me by surprise. Not to mention the moose she called Sammy. I guess her mom was a fan.” 

I wasn’t sure how to tell him what I was feeling. It was absolutely crazy. Maybe it was the hormones from the pregnancy, maybe it was my maternal instinct, but something inside me wanted, no, needed to protect that little girl. I wanted to bring her home with us and make her a part of our family. 

Jensen sat on the couch beside me and I took a deep breath. “Jensen, I want to bring Nichole home with us. I know it’s crazy, but that little girl doesn’t have anyone left in this world and I can’t shake the feeling she’s meant to be with us. I know we’re about to have a baby, but honey, I can’t just let her go into a foster home where she might not be loved.” 

“Really? Are you sure? That’s a lot at once, and you just lost your dad. I don’t want to add more to you.” “Yes, I’m sure. Didn’t you feel it? Sitting there with her? She loves Scooby Doo, and has a moose named Sammy. Jensen it’s like the universe was screaming at us. To be there at that exact moment she was brought in. The test was rescheduled for today due to equipment issues. This just seems like we were meant to be there, and find her.” 

“Okay, let’s see what we can do, and yes I felt it too. It was perfect.” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I love you so much, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Over the next few days we went to the hospital to visit Nichole. Each day she got stronger and she and Jensen watched Scooby Doo, cuddled in the bed with Sammy the Moose. 

While they watched tv, I talked to the nurses and the social worker about us taking her. The social worker told me we would have to be approved as foster parents and they’d have to do a home inspection, but she didn’t see any issue with it. 

I asked if they had told her about her parents and siblings yet, and they said they hadn’t. It broke my heart. “Well, we want to be there when you tell her. I don’t want her to be alone.” They agreed. 

I walked back into her room and told Jensen I needed to talk to him for a second. “Nichole sweetie, I need to step in the hallway with Y/N real quick. I’ll be right back.” 

Nichole was sitting playing with her toy and said, “Okay Daddy.” Jensen whipped his head around and looked at her. Her eyes went wide, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.” She started to cry and Jensen was at her side. “Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart. It’s fine. It didn’t bother me.” He wiped her tears away with his thumb. “You’re not mad?” Her voice barely a whisper. “No, not at all. Now I’ll be right back, okay?” She smiled softly and nodded.

Jensen smiled softly as he thought about her calling him daddy. “Jens they said we had to go through the process of being foster parents and they needed to visit the house. The social worker also said they haven’t told Nichole about her family yet. They agreed to wait and tell her with us.” 

“Okay, let me call my lawyer to get the paperwork started. He can put a rush on it since she’s being released soon. Even if they grant us temporary foster parent status. They can do the home visit whenever.”

I nodded. He kissed my forehead, “Are you ready to be a mom times 2 in a matter of weeks?” I chuckled, “You better believe it.” 

I walked back in Nichole’s room while Jensen called the attorney. “Is Jensen mad at me?” She asked. “Oh no sweetie, not at all. He just had to make a phone call.” She nodded. “He’s gonna be a great daddy. I just know it. He watches Scooby Doo and does funny voices with Sammy.” 

“Yeah, sweetie, he’s going to be amazing.” “Miss Y/N, do you know where my mommy and daddy are? I haven’t seen them.” 

My heart sank. I didn’t know how to answer her. I swallowed hard. Her big brown eyes looked into mine with a thousand questions behind them. 

I knew it was time to tell her. Jensen walked in just as I was starting to panic a little. 

“How are my two favorite girls?” He asked and smiled at Nichole. She beamed. “I think we’re good. I asked Miss Y/N if she knows where my mommy and daddy are.” 

My eyes met Jensen’s and he sat down on the bed with her. I took her hand as she snuggled in his lap.

“Sweetie, you know how you got hurt badly when the truck hit your car?” She nodded. I took a deep breath, “Well your mommy, daddy, sister and brother got hurt badly too.” Her eyes looked at me and then at Jensen, searching for answers. “Are they still hurt?” “No baby, they aren’t hurt anymore. They um, well, they died sweetie.” 

It took a minute for her to register what I had said. Silent tears started to fall. The only sounds were whimpers as she clung to Jensen’s shirt. I instantly climbed on the bed with them and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m so sorry baby girl.” Jensen kissed the top of her head and then mine. I cried as I held her.

Her little body was shaking with the sobs that left her lips. “Where am I going to go now? If I don’t have a mommy or daddy, does the hospital keep me?” 

“No sweetie. You go into foster care. You know Ms Johnson, the nice lady that’s been coming to see you?” Nichole nodded. “Well her job is to help find you a family that can take care of you.” 

“Can I still take Sammy?” I nodded, “Of course you can, sweet girl.” The baby started kicking wildly in my belly and Nichole felt the kicks. She giggled. “He keeps kicking me. He must like me.” She said. 

“I bet he does.” She placed her tiny hand on my belly and laughed each time the baby kicked and moved. 

“Miss Y/N, does Ms Johnson know who my mommy and daddy are going to be?” “Well, she isn’t sure yet, but she has some ideas.” “Can you and Jensen be my mommy and daddy? I can help you with the baby. I can help change diapers and get his bottle. I promise I’ll be the best big sister ever.” 

“I know you will, baby. We did ask her if we could. They just have to make sure everything is okay and then if you want you can come home with us.” 

She looked at me and then up at Jensen, “Yes! I want to go home with you.” 

A week later everything was ready for Nichole to be discharged and to come home with us. Jensen had set up a room for her and bought her a stuffed squirrel to go with her moose. I giggled when I saw it. “What? She has to have a Dean to go with her Sammy. It’s the rules. I didn’t make them.” I smiled, kissed him and touched his chest, “She’s not even here yet and she’s got you wrapped already.” 

He rolled his eyes and laughed. “What can I say, I gotta keep my girls happy.” We headed to the hospital to pick up Nichole. 

Jensen had bought her a new outfit to wear home. It seemed very similar to the one he was wearing, jeans, a band shirt and a flannel, and don’t forget the boots. She was adorable, he was adorable. 

After she was discharged Ms Johnson had us sign some last minute papers and told us she’d be checking in on Nichole’s adjustment. We thanked her and left. 

Nichole sat in the backseat and switched between talking and singing the whole way home. When we pulled up and got her out of the car she looked up at the house and then at us, “Is this a hotel?” Jensen chuckled, “No sweetie, it’s your new home.” Her voice soft, “Wow.” 

The three of us walked inside and we showed her around. Then Jensen took her by the hand and led her to her bedroom. “This is your room, Nichole. If you want to change anything let us know and we will.”

We walked in and she immediately saw the squirrel. “It’s Dean!” She giggled as she grabbed it. Jensen looked over at me with a smug look on his face, “See told ya.” I smirked and rolled my eyes. 

“Alright you two, I’m going to cook lunch. You two have fun.” I walked downstairs to the kitchen and started making lunch. I heard Jensen and Nichole playing and it filled my heart with so much joy. 

The past few months have been a rollercoaster. Jensen and I almost split up, my father dying, the high risk pregnancy. All of it seemed to come to a head, but this, helping this little girl, bringing her into our family felt perfect. 

I walked upstairs to get Jensen and Nichole for lunch when I heard Jensen doing his Dean voice. “Come on Sammy, we have to go find Cas.” Nichole did her best Sammy voice, “Dean, Cas is gone. He went to get ice cream.” I heard Jensen laugh and Nichole giggle. 

“Hmm I don’t remember ice cream in Supernatural.” Jensen said as Nichole erupted in laughter. 

I stepped in the room, “Okay you two, get washed up for lunch.” Jensen and Nichole nodded and walked to wash their hands. As Jensen walked past me he placed a kiss on my lips. 

The day went by in a bit of a blur. We spent most of the day getting Nichole used to the house and of course us. As the night wore on I started to get a little nervous about how she’d sleep. Jensen and I decided to start a nighttime routine with her, bath, book, bed. 

All electronics were turned off an hour before bed, this included the television. Jensen and I put our phones away and were completely present with her. I gave her a bath, washed her hair and after getting her dressed, Jensen brushed her hair as I cleaned up the bathroom. 

She picked two books for us to read after she brushed her teeth. She snuggled into her bed with Sammy and Dean. Jensen sat on the bed beside her and I sat in the rocking chair. 

Jensen began reading to her and I noticed her eyes getting heavy, but she was fighting sleep. Her eyes would close and she’d pop them back open. “Nichole, sweetie. It’s okay. You can go to sleep.” She kept fighting it. 

Jensen looked down at her, “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” “I don’t want to go to sleep.” “Why not?” Jensen asked with concern in his eyes. “I think if I go to sleep when I wake up you two will be gone too.” 

I looked at Jensen confused, “Honey what do you mean, we will be gone too?” “I fell asleep in the car and when I woke up mommy and daddy were gone. I don’t want that to happen again.” 

“Oh sweetheart, we aren’t going anywhere. I promise.” “Want me to stay here tonight with you?” Jensen asked her. She nodded, “Yes please.” 

“Okay, let me go get ready for bed and I’ll be right back, okay?” She nodded, snuggled down in the bed and smiled sleepily. He kissed her head and left the room. 

Jensen came back a few minutes later with his gray sweatpants and old t-shirt on, a blanket and his pillow. He made a bed on the floor and finished reading the stories to her. 

She slowly started to fall asleep. I leaned down, kissed her head and then hugged Jensen. “You’re pretty great at this dad stuff already, you know that?” He smirked, “Yeah, I guess so. Are you going to be okay in bed alone tonight?” I nodded, “Yes I am. I love you, Jensen.” “I love you too, Y/N.” We kissed each other good night and I left the room, heading for bed. 

*time jump birth*

The doctors decided it was safer for me to be in the hospital when I gave birth, so they wanted to induce me. The plan was to have a natural birth and only do a c-section if there was an emergency. 

Jared and Gen came into town to stay with Nichole while Jensen was at the hospital with me. Nichole loved her “Uncle Jared” and Jared loved her moose named Sammy. 

I was hooked up to the machines and the doctor came in to check me before they started the medication to induce. “Everything looks good so far. We’re going to start the medicine soon.” Dr Ellington said before she left the room. 

I took Jensen’s hand, “This is it, baby. Our little boy will be here soon.” He kissed my forehead, “Yeah baby. I can’t wait.” 

Dr Ellington had come back and started the medication to induce labor. My labor progressed quickly, shocking not only her but us as well.

I was 10 cm dilated and 100% effaced, “Looks like someone’s in a hurry to meet his family.” She chuckled. “Are you ready, Y/N?” I nodded and took a deep breath.

“Okay sweetie. On this next contraction I want you to give me a little push, okay?” I nodded. Jensen held my hand as the nurses and doctor got into position. “Okay, push.” I began pushing and held Jensen’s hand tight. 

“You’re doing great sweetheart.” Jensen smiled down at me. I looked up at him, scared and excited. 

“You’re doing great Y/N, keep going, I need a big push this next time.” When the next contraction hit I pushed hard. I was exhausted and in pain. 

After about 30 minutes of pushing I felt like I couldn’t go on. Jensen cupped my face, “Y/N, you’re doing amazing. Just a few more pushes baby and he’ll be here. You can do this. Think about holding him in your arms and helping Nichole hold him. You’ve got this baby.” He kissed my lips and grabbed my hand.

I leaned back up and on the next contraction I pushed with everything I had. “That’s it. I see his head. Come on, Y/N. Push!” I pushed harder. 

The next two pushes his head was out, then his shoulders. Before I knew it I heard his sweet little cry filling the room. The doctor placed him on my chest, Jensen cut his cord and I was completely in love. 

Staring up at me was the most perfect baby I’d ever seen. His piercing green eyes blinking at the bright light, and his cry fading to a whimper. Ten fingers, ten toes, and a perfect little nose. 

I was crying, Jensen was crying. “He’s perfect, baby. Thank you.” Jensen kissed my lips and then kissed his head. The nurse took him to clean him, weigh, and measure him. They assured me once I was done and cleaned up I would have him back. 

When we finally got settled into my room, he was brought back to me. Cleaned, dressed and swaddled like a little burrito. Jensen took him out of the bassinet and handed him to me. 

I was completely and irrevocably in love with him. “Look what we did, Jensen?” I smiled up at him with tears in my eyes. “I can’t wait for Nichole to meet him. Now our family is complete.” Jensen took pictures and sent them to family and friends. 

Y/N and I would like to introduce you to Jonathan Michael Ackles. Born today at 7:45 pm, weighing 8lbs 8oz and was 22 ½ inches long. Mom and baby are healthy and doing great.

Jensen picked up baby Jonathan and held him. He was beaming with so much love. I snapped a picture of him. 

Once Nichole, Jared and Gen arrived at the hospital everything seemed perfect. Nichole carefully climbed on the bed beside me and held Jonathan. She told him all about Scooby Doo and her stuffies. Then she told him she was going to be the best big sister ever. 

“I love you, baby Jonathan.” She looked at me and Jensen, “And I love you Mommy Y/N and Daddy Jensen.” 

A few tears fell from my eyes. My heart was completely full and not as broken as I thought. 

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[i-drop-level-one-loot]

idk if you take anon requests but I am in love with Yandere ruthless and bloodthirsty Pirate captain who's obsessed with a princess from a small kingdom and takes her as wife in exchange for not plundering the kingdom and bleeding out their resources. He had planned for their first evening together to be romantic but she looks too tempting when she's frightened

🌹

CW: Extremely rough smut, sadistic behavior, bodily harm, knife play, blood, minor character death, dead dove

Edward listened to two of his crew members gossiping like handmaidens, feeling only mildly annoyed at their squawking. Usually by now he would have threatened to pull out their teeth to keep them quiet, but he secretly could understand their excitement. While pirates were blamed for anything that could go wrong on the open seas, they were actually often employed by nobility to do what their navies could not do legally. Still, it was a surprise to be extended a job offer from a large kingdom, considering Edward's notoriety.

Edward "The Living Death".

There wasn't a crew as fearsome as his. He had never worked for any of the self righteous kings or queens in the past who conscripted pirates for their aid, not because he thought too highly of himself, but because the stories of his wrath scared all the rich bastards away. And the stories were not exaggerations. Edward aimed to make himself the most terrible in the world, because while it was too late to ever be let into heaven, it wasn't too late to become powerful enough to kill Satan himself.

For an entire week the crew would be guests in the sea side kingdom, while The Living Death and two of his men would be welcomed into the castle for negotiations.

It was entertaining, being welcomed onto a king's land, and Edward was curious as to what King was so insane as to ask for his assistance, knowing that Edward was the type of man to torture sailors for sport.

The ship with black sails tied off on the dock of the grey and dull harbor. Although the carriage that awaited Edward was gaudy with its elaborate engravings, the buildings were drab and pitiful. Truly, a thriving kingdom. And the large castle that towered above the impoverished residents was just the icing on the cake. To enter the grounds a large gate had to be slowly opened, physically alienating the royals from their subjects.

The attendant waiting to take Edward and his mates to the study felt his jaw fall agape at the sight of the men. What parts of their bodies were visible were covered in deep scars, the men were large and intimidating, but the leader was almost inhumanly frightening, unnaturally blue eyes that almost looked blind pierced his soul through a mop of shaggy black hair.

Edward met with the king for introductions, however was politely dismissed to the rooms they would be staying in for a bath and meal, promising to begin negotiations the next day.

However, he couldn't expect pirates to do as he asked so blindly, so after his shower and a free change of clothes, Edward decided to wander the gardens, internally arguing with himself over what he is doing in a king's estate. Then he saw her.

A woman in a beautiful, yet simple, dress was being followed by a maid, chatting kindly with one another despite the class difference. From afar her voice touched something in Edward's spirit; a longing he hadn't been able to quench on the ocean.

Marilyn tensed up and fell back behind (Reader) where she was supposed to be, generally. (Reader) looked ahead to see what had frightened her handmaid, and witnessed a man she did not know approaching the both of them.

"Greetings, ladies." His voice was gravelled and exhausted, tugging on (Reader's) heartstrings. From under the stranger's freshly washed hair (Reader) could see a long scar between his eyes, matching the scars that littered the hand he offered to (Reader).

"Good sir." (Reader), without hesitation, responded with an extended hand. Marilyn audibly choked behind her, having to physically bite her tongue to prevent herself from shouting at the man to 'step off!'

Wind burnt lips kissed the back of (Reader's) hand, holding it for an inappropriate amount of time, yet (Reader's) expression of genuine kindness never changed. "You clearly do not know who I am." Although it was said with a smirk his tone was dangerous.

"Just as you clearly do not know of me." (Reader) held herself tall, praying that the man before her was not important enough to feel offended by her ignorance.

Edward's eyes sparkled beautifully as he straightened his back, as to tower over the lovely lady he had just met. The movement shifted his hair, better showcasing not only his eyes but the giant scar stretching from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. "I am here on business."

"What a coincidence." (Reader) smiled coyly. "As am I."

What is this feeling? Edward had many effects on women, fear, disgust, loathing, lust. But the smile on (Reader's) face was honest. Like a child who hasn't yet learned to fear the evils of men, her eyes were clear and unclouded, looking not at his scars, but his eyes; numb to the stench of blood he could never scrub himself clean of, the lamb had no clue she was speaking to a wolf, and he wasn't even in disguise.

"What kind of business does a lady have with a disgusting fool like this king?"

(Reader) gasped, taken back by his words, smiling nervously behind her fan. "Good sir, you just be careful with the way you speak about a king! I will not report you, but others shall not be so kind.." Concern laced her words as she searched the surroundings for eavesdroppers.

"The King knew who I was when he hired me, so he shouldn't be offended by my language."

"Still..." (Reader) sighed. "Well, if you are so curious, I'm here because of a marriage proposition."

"Marriage?" The idea irked Edward, and he had to hold back his hand from almost instinctively lashing out. What a strange reaction, feeling peeved over the possible engagement of a woman he's just met.

"Indeed, strange isn't it? I always knew marriage would one day come, but.. it is still quite the adventure." Her grin tightened, but it wasn't a happy smile, the expression felt more like a mother's attempt to console her frightened child.

There was an odd glow to (Reader's) eyes, and Edward was suddenly under the impression that the woman before him was secretly an angel, sent in disguise to test him, to see if Edward truly did long for the throne of hell. Again, his arm tried to move on it's own accord. What if, instead of allowing such an angel to return to heaven with her report on him, he caged her like a little song bird and ripped off her wings?

"I apologize, Miss, but I must cut our conversation short. Any longer and I might gouge out your eyes." Edward spoke with a smile, revealing his sharpened canines. But again, (Reader) surprised him, giggling back at him as though he had just made a light-hearted joke, while her maid behind her was grasping her breast like she was having a heart attack.

"Well, I shall keep a spoon in my pocket in case we need again!" (Reader's) laughter filled the garden.

She curtsied, back still straight and head dipped only as low to be polite. The maid, on the other hand, was practically folded in half and was bent down for so long she had to scurry after her lady.

As the mystery woman left, Edward had a lot of strange, foreign thoughts and feelings causing chaos in his mind and heart. He briefly fantasized about running after her, and taking her for himself behind a bush while her maid screamed for help. He had seen plenty of women's bodies before, but the fantasy of what could be hidden by his mystery lady's bodice was.. tantalizing.

Would she be impressed by his body? Or fearful? What kind of face would she make as he forced her to carry his children? Would she look at him with love and tenderness during the birth of their first born? Would she bite and scream and fight?

Edward discovered that he would have to return to his room prematurely, perplexed as to who that woman was, and why she had such an effect on him, causing an arousal despite not saying, or doing, anything sexually exciting.

Marilyn smacked her princess on the shoulder, red in the face and mouth frozen in horror. "My lady! I can't believe you!"

"What? Did my joke not make sense?" (Reader) asked in earnest. "I said I'd carry a spoon, so he had something to easily scoop my eyes out with."

"Not that, you-you- IMBECILE!" Marilyn cried out, grasping the lady she adored like a sister. "That man was The Living Death!"

"Oh. He didn't look dead to me." Another slap connected with the back of her neck.

"He was a pirate! A pirate!"

"A pirate? What was he doing here?" (Reader) nervously pondered, examining her maid's expression to see if she was pulling her leg.

"I don't know, but you should write a letter to your father immediately. No good man would want his daughter marrying into a family that deals with rotten apples."

After the sun rose into the dreary kingdom, Edward and his mates were finally invited into King Nikolai's study, meeting the rotund bastard who reeked of wine and pulled at his codpiece frequently.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today, gentlemen. You've saved me from an uncomfortable situation. That is, if you agree to my request."

"Well, let's not make this longer than necessary." Edward spat in disgust, feeling as though he would catch syphilis from just speaking with his potential employer.

"My son, my heir, has two marriage candidates. Two worthy marriage candidates. My friend, King Leopold has a, frankly stupid, daughter, Princess Cadence. Leopold and I decided long ago that his daughter should marry my son, and become queen when he surpasses me. Now the issue is King Dretious. His kingdom is.. small, but not unimpressive. It thrives wonderfully. He has only two daughters, pitiful him. The eldest is being trained to be his successor, which is wonderful for him since he was blessed with bright and charismatic daughters, but no man who marries her well become King, so there is no incentive there to send even my sons I dislike. The youngest, is a perfect marriage candidate. Princess (Reader). Intelligent, charming, attractive.." He took a ragged breath, his mind traveling to where it should not. "I desire her land. If she marry my son I'd have access as family to her resources, and in a generation or two my grandchildren could gain control of that little rock. But it isn't worth ruining my relationship with Leopold. That would be.. catastrophic."

Edward numbly wondered if the young woman he met was Princess Cadence, or Princess (Reader). In the short time he spent with her she certainly didn't seem stupid, so he was leaning towards the latter.

"But I want that land. Do you understand me?" King Nikolai's smile was sinister. "You can have whatever is in their castle, whatever can be looted, as long as I receive the deeds to their nation, signed and stamped, and King Dretious and his kin are exterminated."

"And what do we get? If I wanted to plunder a small country, I could do that without needing permission."

"Full, under the table, immunity, as well as enough money for you and your crew to retire in the Caribbean as lords." He was so smug as he pleaded his bargain that Edward considered killing him just to see him choke on his own blood.

Edward stood, walking around the king towards the window, debating whether or not it would be worth it to kill the fat asshole right then and there. But below the window, under a flowered tree, sat the woman he met the day before, watching birds as they flew overhead. "I met a young lady in the garden yesterday. She said she was here for a marriage proposition."

"Hmph, yes.. attractive, isn't she? That would have been Princess (Reader). She is unaware of her competition with Leopold's daughter, so it would have been unwise to have them both here at the same time."

(Reader) had her lips pursed, upset about something. 'How would those lips taste?' Edward thought excitedly.

"We'll do it." Edward spoke loudly, startling his men who were surprised by the boss's response.

His men questioned him on the way back to the ship. Surely he wasn't serious? Of course not... Captain Edward "The Living Death", the man who abandoned his family name, had a plan, one that he had come up with purely for selfish reasons, that did not include sucking up to a disease ridden rat. And he assured them, that after he got what he wanted, the crew would return, and burn King Nikolai's kingdom to the ground.

The wonderfully jolly, soft King Dretious, known for being unlike the cruel kings who ruled throughout the land, plump with age instead of greed, was petrified solid. The elderly father who was seen as a grandfather figure to his small island, blessed by the gods to always have the wisdom to do what was right, was stunned, incapable of coherent thought. Before him was a pirate captain who had demanded an audience, two months after his darling baby girl returned home from another country.

"What did you just say?" He stuttered out.

Edward stood beneath the kindly king sitting on his throne while wearing an ostentatiously decorated black frock coat, shining with it's abundance of gold decorations and precious jewels. His unnaturally bright eyes were fixated on the mortified princess standing behind her father.

"I have been hired to bring ruin to your kingdom. However, if you offer me a better prize than what I was promised by my employer, I'll reconsider my agreement with him." His gaze made (Reader's) skin crawl.

King Dretious swallowed the lump in his throat. "And what would that be? Whoever had the gall to request such a reason clearly had the resources to hire you, so I doubt anything of mine will compare."

"True. However, it isn't your money I'm after.." Edward stepped forward, still fixated on the younger princess will a hungry expression.

The eldest sister recognized the look of a predatory man before her father did, and stepped in front of (Reader) in a protective stance.

"I demand Princess (Reader's) hand in marriage."

"No!" The eldest princess spun around, grabbing onto (Reader) and hiding her within her embrace. "Father, you can't!"

"Please, Captain, isn't there anything else?" The King frantically begged, knowing that his army wasn't enough against The Living Death and his infamous crew of the damned.

Edward sighed, his patience wearing thin. With a snap of his fingers, his men brought forward four captives; the cook, two guards, and Marilyn. "Let's try that again." The demon spawn pulled out a gun and cocked it, aiming it at the older guard.

"Let's be civil-"

The King was cut off by a loud shot, killing the innocent man who had been a loyal employee of the castle for the past thirteen years. (Reader) hollered, frightened by the sudden bang.

Edward moved over to Marilyn, pulling down the hammer slowly. "No!" (Reader) burst free from her sister, running down the steps to fling herself onto her only friend's body, ready to be her shield.

"(Reader)!"

(Reader) cradled her maid, glaring through tears up at the man she foolishly thought was handsome only a couple of months ago. "I'LL DO IT! I'll do it! Just please.. no more."

Marilyn sobbed under (Reader's) weight. "Princess, no! Please - save yourself!"

"Sister, come back here now." The queen to be demanded, shaking and on the brink of tears herself.

Edward smiled wider than before, holstering his weapon. "Wise choice, angel." He turned his attention back to the King. "I hope you don't mind that there will be no wedding. For you see, God has no place in my life, even for happy occasions. I've already procured a marriage contract, so once it is signed that shall be that."

A calloused hand reached out to the princess.

"Shall we?"

The country was in mourning as the news of the princess's sacrifice spread faster than a plague, and nearly the entire country arrived to see her off as she boarded the pirate ship with black sails, stiffly shuffling next to her new husband, the certificate signed and verified only an hour prior. On what should be one's happiest day, the air was filled with sounds of heart breaking agony. (Reader) was numbly dragged onto the ship and into the captain's quarters, no longer a princess, but a wife to a monster.

Edward locked the door behind them, smiling wolfishly. "Welcome, to your new home, darling. Unfortunately, we will have to prolong our honeymoon, as I have a country to conquer."

"What?!" (Reader) collapsed before her new husband, clutching onto his shirt. "But you promised!"

"Ah, apologies, love, but I did not mean your old country." He pulled her onto her feet, kissing her knuckles. "I meant the country that asked me to kill you. Now that you are my wife, I can't stand for such insolence, now can I?"

(Reader) pulled away, eyes wide with disgust. "Was this your plan from the start? If you never truly cared, then why take me? Whatever loot you plunder from whoever it was that employed you will surely be worth more than my father's entire island, so if you had no qualms about taking on a presumably larger nation-state, then why?"

"You are a smart one." Edward chuckled, approaching (Reader) with a look she had never seen before, yet for some reason set her on edge. "I did it because I wanted you."

He lunged, tackling her onto a large bed covered in silk and furs. She struggled, fighting with all her might to push him off of her, but she just wasn't strong enough. (Reader) bit her lip in an effort to not cry again, a pitiful attempt to retain her pride.

"So strange.. I have had whores throw themselves at me many times in the past, but they were nothing but bodies. What is it about you that is so different?"

Nothing but bodies.. (Reader) had learned from Marilyn what happens on a woman's wedding night, but in the chaos of her marriage she had forgotten that that was what this was, her wedding night. Her face fell, tears whelmed up in her puffy red eyes, and her resolve to look brave cracked.

But this expression seemed to only excite the mad man further. His blue eyes grew hazy like he was drunk and his breathing became irregular. "So that's what you would look like.. I wondered."

A large knife was procured from behind his back, causing (Reader) to cry harder. With sadistically slow movements he cut through her dress. She made pathetic attempts to swipe at him, but Edward only responded by effortlessly flipping her onto her belly, slicing through the lace of her corset.

"So many layers to finally see the body I've been dreaming of. That will change, of course. If I want to see your beauty, I will. Even if you must live in the nude."

He ignored her screams as he tore off every article of clothing she wore, leaving (Reader) naked and shivering beneath him.

"Is it me that makes you shudder like this, or is it," he placed the blade against (Reader's) cheek, earning another gasp as her body practically convulsed, "either way, I'll pretend that your shaking is in excitement for me."

With (Reader) now on her back, Edward held the knife to her throat to prevent her from running while he removed his own clothing with one hand. Her sobs only grew louder as more of his scarred skin became visible.

"Please do-don't do this!"

"Don't what? Make love to my newlywed wife? Fine then. I'll fuck you instead."

His pants slipped down, revealing his fully erect manhood. (Reader) closed her eyes in shame, but Edward grabbed her face with enough force to bruise her chin, snapping them back open in shock of the pain.

"Look at what you've done to me. Without grabbing at my pants and begging me like a slut, you've already made my cock like this. Don't you feel special, knowing that you have that effect on your husband." Edward continued squeezing his bride's face painfully, forcing her to nod in agreement.

The tip of the knife drug down her skin without enough pressure to cut, but enough for (Reader) to feel the cold threat tingling and creating goosebumps, traveling teasingly from her breasts and over her quivering stomach, stopping at her exposed cunny. (Reader) felt the metal touch her where she was told never to touch herself, and was consumed by humiliation.

"Unfortunately for you, it seems that your modest body has not prepared itself for me. I would have taken the time to wetten your cunt, but as per your request, I am not to make love to you, but to fuck you."

"What does that-" a searing pain electrocuted her body as (Reader's) dry pussy was stretched over Edward's dick. Her throat was aching from all the screaming, but that didn't stop the sounds of agony from shrieking out.

He held himself inside of her, relishing in the feeling of her twitching hole tightening almost unbearably around him. For a brief moment, Edward's heart swelled with love, and he considered licking his fingers to provide his wife with lubrication, but the look on her face.. just from entering her (Reader) became so red she was almost purple, eyes flickering as though she were to pass out. It was too beautiful for words.

As he pulled out it caused an awful friction that (Reader) swore she could hear, an awful shuk shuk shuk as Edward removed himself, only to slam back in. It felt like she was being torn apart. He continued thrusting into her rapidly swelling sacred place. The tearing sensation morphed into a burning one, as her blood slickened her hole.

His movements only sped up, pounding into his bruised and bloody princess. (Reader) began to adjust to the pain, and started to push against Edward's chest, desperate enough to fight against him despite his knife still being held to her thigh.

Suddenly, (Reader's) legs were raised and folded back, pressing down into her arms to prevent her from moving. She pulled and struggled, disgusted by the wet noise as Edward's hips connected with hers, uncomfortably aware of his pelvis grinding against her sore clit. Edward grabbed her face again, popping her jaw open and sliding his knife into her mouth.

"Don't struggle, or you just might cut out your tongue." The man threatened, his malicious words clashing with the intense lust in his eyes.

(Reader's) nose scrunched up as she tried to glare at Edward, unable to spit out the knife because of his hold on her face.

"Ah, continue looking at me like that!" He sang with praise, his legs twitching with anticipation. "I'm about to cum!"

(Reader) didn't quite know what that meant, but she could feel him throbbing inside of her.

"I was going to wait until you've gotten used to being my wife, but I think I'm going to cum inside you! Fuck, I'm going to put my babies in you! I'm going to knock you up!"

Learning what was about to happen, (Reader) tried to scream without bumping the knife in her teeth.

Suddenly, the knife was thrown across the room, replaced by Edward's lips, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth as he climaxed deep in his wife's raw pussy. (Reader) didn't know if it was because she was aware that he was cumming inside of her, or if it was because of the paper thin cuts along her vaginal wall, but the fluid pumping into her was horrendously hot, burning her abused body.

He collapsed onto her, still kissing her passionately, tasting the lips he had craved since he first met her. When Edward pulled away, admiring the unbroken string of saliva connecting him to his lover, he knew why he had been so enamored with (Reader) since the beginning.

"I'm so excited to drag you down into hell with me, princess." 'There will be no escape from me. You are my gift from Satan, my little angel. You belong to me.'

[rainbeaudingo]

The further I get from Voltron, the more I feel like the Holt and Shirogane family should’ve been 1 family.

Matt and Pidge are Sam’s biological kids, and Keith is Shiro’s adopted son.

Sam and Shiro would be the same age, having grown up together in the Garrison, and fell in love.

The reason Sam, Matt, and Shiro all go to space together is 1. Their love/knowledge of space and 2. The mission was supposed to be extremely routine (which is different from canon, but I think would make more sense with how technologically advanced the Garrison is).

Keith still got kicked out of the academy, Pidge still had to sneak in, but the two aren’t complete strangers. They’re working in tandem to figure out what happened to their dads and brother.

And Colleen Holt could be Shiro’s best friend. She doesn’t think it’s a great idea for Shiro to go with his arm in the condition it is, and that causes a minor argument. She still becomes the caretaker of Keith and Pidge until Sam and Shiro return.

It just simplifies the group dynamics a bit. It always felt like Shiro and Pidge’s stories were so separate for no reason. He wasn’t even there when she went to find Matt.

And there’s no need for Adam and Curtis. Which weren’t really real characters, if I’m being honest.

[billiethepumpkin]

Best Pain I Ever Felt: Eijirou Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.

Contains: Fem!Reader. Descriptions of violence. Descriptions of injuries. Emotional.

Featuring: Eijirou Kirishima.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)

You saw it on the news.

Everyone had. You had probably a dozen text messages and at least three phone calls from people who loved you asking if everything was alright, if you'd had any word.

If you had, your heart wouldn't be sitting in the soles of your shoes right now. It seemed impossible. Your mind was trying to convince you that you hadn't really seen what you just saw. But you did. There was no denying that it was real. You knew by the warm tears that fell down your cheeks without any beckoning.

Red Riot had taken on a massive attack. He had been fighting some villain that you had only heard of a couple of times. You guessed he was supposed to be a small time villain, but the way he was attacking Red Riot... It seemed relentless, like he was made for killing even the toughest heroes.

Red Riot, who took every hit without so much as flinching. Red Riot, who refused to let any of the pain show, no matter how badly it felt like his skin and bones were on fire. Red Riot, who kept going back for more, ready to defend his city and the rest of the world, if it came down to it.

Red Riot, who loved you deeply. Red Riot, who bought you flowers after any mission that kept him away overnight. Red Riot, who took baths with you and gave you massages, even though his work days were much more taxing than yours. Red Riot, who would go to the ends of the earth to protect you, to show you that he loved you.

The villain had tried to escape, but was so beaten and exhausted after his showdown with Red Riot that he was easily arrested. The last image of Red Riot that the news had shown was a split second of him knocked out on the ground, covered in scrapes and bruises, bleeding from the side of his head. You wondered how long it would be before somebody at the agency called you. It had already been twenty minutes. Maybe, you thought, their not calling was a good sign. Maybe it meant there was nothing to report, that everything was fine. Maybe it meant that he was okay.

Or maybe it meant that people at the agency were drawing straws to figure out who was gonna break the news to the boss's babygirl...

You couldn't sit there anymore. Someone had to know something about what happened. You tried to call the receptionist at the agency--nothing. You guessed it was kind of late, probably past her normal business hours. You tried to call a different agency number. And when that failed, you tried to call your husband's cell phone, because maybe someone from the agency had it and would be able to give you some kind of answer as to what the hell was going on.

No answer.

At this point, you stopped thinking. You got in your car and drove to the agency. Somebody had to tell you.

When you got there, the office was eerily quiet. You walked around for a little while. Finally, someone came walking down the hall in the opposite direction. "Hey, Ms. Y/N," he said. "You didn't hear? Red Riot's at the hospital."

After figuring out which hospital, you didn't even bother to say goodbye to the man as you rushed away. You begged the front desk at the hospital to give you any information on your boyfriend. But when she couldn't reveal anything to you for privacy reasons, one of Kirishima's sidekicks called to you from a few feet away. "He's going to be fine," he reassured you, leading you to a bench outside the room where he was resting. "He was hurt pretty badly. He has a concussion and a collapsed lung, along with needing several stitches and a heavy dose of pain meds. But he's okay."

For the first time since you watched the story on the news a little more than an hour and a half ago, you took a massive breath, your hand falling onto your chest in an attempt to ground yourself. You felt tears well up in the corners of you eyes. "Thank you," you muttered as the sidekick opened the hospital room door for you.

And there he was. Your Kirishima, wrapped up in bandages and hooked up to several monitors for his own health. His eyes were closed, resting. You could hear his labored breathing, even through the oxygen tube in his nose.

How could someone do this to another person? Someone as wonderful as him? You silently swore you were going to personally hunt down whoever had done this and take care of them yourself. Then you remembered they'd already been arrested. You guessed there wasn't much to be done about it.

You caressed his arm, still sweaty and covered in dirt after his fight. His eyes opened at your touch, and he looked right at you. "Hey, babygirl," he said, smiling sleepily.

"Hey," you said, your smile and tears intertwining. Your fingers laced with his, dried blood and debris now smearing over your hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Not bad right now," he answered. "Doc's got me on all kinda pain meds though."

"You scared the hell outta me," you whispered, quickly wiping the tears away before they could completely fall down your face.

Kirishima's hand reached up to hold your face, catching any of the tears that continued to fall, regardless of how you commanded them not to. "'m sorry, honey," he responded.

You shook your head and held his hand against your face "No, don't be sorry," you told him, kissing the dirty palm of his hand. Seriously, he just took a massive beating, and somehow he feels like he needs to apologize? "What did the doctor say?" you asked him. You already got some information before.

Kirishima took a deep breath. "Concussion. Collapsed lung," he said. "Doc said if everything looks good, I can go home tomorrow."

"That's good," you remarked. "I'm gonna take a few days off so you have an extra hand."

"You don't have to do that," he tried to say.

"I'm gonna take care of you," you told him.

"Pshh, I'm fine. You don't have to do anything for me," he tried to claim. Even in his words, you could tell that he was a little unsure. Red Riot was the toughest hero you knew. And Kirishima was the strongest man you knew, even beyond quirks. Kirishima moved a little, seemingly trying to move himself to the side a little. He winced with every single movement, shutting his eyes tight to brace himself against the pain. When he couldn't take it anymore, he gave up. He stopped moving and allowed tears to fall down his cheeks. "Shh, shh," you breathed, wiping his tears away. "It's okay. You're okay. Don't try to move."

"You mean to tell me I can't even make room for my girl on the bed?" he argued with himself. He was trying to make light of the situation, but his voice shook in frustration as he remembered just hours ago, when he was the hero people called when they needed someone tough. Now, he couldn't even shift his weight in a bed.

"I don't think you need to make room for me, babe," you rolled your eyes.

"Y/N, please," he asked. "Everything hurts, inside and out. I'm practically bedridden. All I want is to hold you. Please?"

You pressed your lips together, thinking of a response. You had half a mind to double down, to tell him you'd sit right next to him, but that he needed to rest in the bed. But you knew better than that. You knew he'd at least be here for the night, seeing as it was already almost nine o'clock at night. And you knew it'd be torture for him to not be able to do anything for himself the entire night. You could give him this one thing. You sat next to him on the bed, as closely as you could get to him, and you carefully laid your head on his shoulder. He was wincing before you even lowered your full weight onto him. Once you were fully situated, he took another deep breath, and his pain seemed to ease. "Does this hurt?" you asked, being careful not to press anywhere that would be too painful for him.

"Yeah," he asked, his face spreading into a sweet smile. "Best pain I ever felt."