#she'd have been a fucking nightmare.

[stackslip]

yeah sure it's good that chainsaw man takes place in the late 90s so that denji didn't get tiktok. imagine if makima had had letterboxd and/or twitter though

[lina-lovebug]

Sharkboy and his Shadow

Percy Jackson x fem! reader

Background: reader is the only child of Nyx, and has grown up with Percy. After being claimed, lots of kids are afraid of her, and reader feels alone. To 'help' Percy see the error of his ways, Luke and Annabeth come up with a plan.

_ _ _

"(Y/N) (L/N), daughter of Nyx, the Personification of Night, and Queen of Tartarus."

Ever since that day, (Y/N) had never felt so alone.

She grew up with Percy, always being by his side, and she felt lucky enough to see him be claimed by Poseidon. She was happy for him, and understood his rage at the same time.

But when she was claimed? There were no kids staring in awe or clapping or congratulations. There were only whispers amongst them, and stares of horror.

Because no one ever thought that Nyx would have a half-blood child.

She's Nyx. She keeps to herself, away from the affairs of Olympus and mortals.

So no one wanted to make friends with the forbidden girl.

Luke was still friendly, but it became obvious that he wasn't interested in being friends like before. Annabeth, however, still stayed by her side. She was the only one to congratulated her, and decided to explain to (Y/N) what this means now.

Not only was being a child of The Big Three forbidden, but being a daughter of Nyx? That meant more danger for everyone, and she'd become the main target for any monster who wanted her dead.

And to top it all off, she thinks Percy is avoiding her.

She hadn't seen him since she'd been claimed. She had seen him briefly during most days, but when she'd look and see him staring, he'd quickly move his gaze to the ground or the sky.

"If I thought that being a half-blood was so lonely, I'd never have come."

Annabeth felt bad for the girl, "it's not a choice, (Y/N). Nyx chose your dad for a reason."

"And yet all she's sent me is a fucking knife!"

(Y/N) yelled as she threw the dagger her mother sent her into the fire. Annabeth gasped, quickly retrieving the dagger with a stick.

The black dagger hadn't been damaged.

Before Annabeth could lecture the girl on damaging gifts from your Godly parent, she saw the tears in her eyes.

(Y/N) was angry. She'd been so angry that she started sobbing, sinking to the floor of her own empty cabin. Annabeth held her.

"I miss my dad," She sobbed, hiccuping, "I'm so alone. . .I miss Percy."

"Seaweed brain," Annabeth cursed.

Annabeth knew why Percy had been avoiding her.

Because he liked her.

Percy confessed this to Annabeth. He said he knew how important being claimed was to her. How she'd be the most sought after half-blood now.

And feared endangering her if he stayed too close.

"Tell you what?" Annabeth pulled away, "tomorrow, we'll have a girls night. I'll take you to Aphrodite cabin, and Silena will do your hair and dress you up."

She sniffled, "I doubt any of those girls want me there."

Oh, Aphrodite girls were secretly cheering (Y/N) on. They knew the consequences of having a powerful female figure in your life, but one that chose to never be present much.

"Silena does, and whatever she wants, the girls will follow."

(Y/N) didn't get much sleep that night, tears coming and going, and she only managed to find sleep when she thought of how Percy used to hold her. When they'd have sleepovers and she'd have a nightmare, Percy would always hold her until they fell asleep.

That's why she thought she was holding herself.

But her eyes deceive her.

With wide eyes, she jumped up but her head banged into the top bunk. The mystery boy awoke, asking if the girl was okay.

"Luke?! When did you-?! How?!"

"You're bleeding, (Y/N)," Luke ignored her sudden panic, helping the daughter of Nyx up. She checked her head and found some blood.

"What the fuck. . ."

Luke quickly dragged her to the infirmary, but not without notice. The few half bloods that were awake gasped, seeing Luke Castellan leaving the Nyx Cabin with (Y/N) in his arms.

And so did Percy.

"Hey, hey! What happened?" Percy called after them, catching up but hearing Percys' sudden urgency made her want to cry. He's been avoiding her for two weeks, but now he's worried?

"Put your hand on my shoulder," Luke whispered to her, and she gave him a look of confusion.

"Just do it, pretty girl," With an awkward blush, she nodded and, as a result, pushed herself closer into his chest.

"She hit her head. She'll be fine, go tell Chiron," Luke dismissed, leaving Percy with more questions than he had answers.

Why was Luke in her cabin? When did he get there? Why were you hurt?

Did he spend the night?

That last thought made the son of poseidon wish he hadn't been avoiding you all this time. It made him angry with himself that he let Luke become interested in you.

"So why were you in my room, Luke?" (Y/N) asked, holding an ice pack on her throbbing head.

"I left early this morning to check on you, and I know that Percy wanted to do that this morning. So, I figured that sharkboy might get a little jealous if he saw me in your bed," He explained with a shrug.

"Jealous?" She questioned with a scoff, "he's been avoiding me like the plague since I've been claimed."

"Did you think that because you've been claimed that he's avoiding you, or that he's avoiding you because he's scared he'll attract more monsters to you?"

"Luke, I don't have time-"

He cut her off, "it's bad enough that Percy got claimed the second day he got here. He's a forbidden child. Now, the girl he's been crushing on since diapers is the number one target of every monster out there."

"He. . .he doesn't like me like that," I said, feeling my face heat up.

Luke quirked his brow, "that's seriously what you got out of that?"

Despite her frustration and anger towards Percy, she could never despise him so much that her feelings would fade. She still cared about him and ultimately feared that her feelings couldn't be reciprocated.

"Look, if he doesn't seem interested or even the slightest bit jealous, I'll let you know," Luke knew Percy well.

In fact, Luke endured countless hours of listening to how Percy adored (Y/N). How Percy first realized that she wasn't just his best friend, or at least that's not what he wanted her to be. He wanted to be the one she sought out each morning - be the one she could lean on. As capable as she was, he still wanted to help her as much as he could.

He'd lift the entire weight of this off her shoulders if she asked.

(Y/N) had the beauty of the stars and Percy could spend the rest of his life happily staring at her.

"Okay," She nodded.

_ _ _

"Wait, I have two different outfits?"

"Of course!" Silena expressed, bringing out the second one, "this one is for our picnic tonight."

It was a gorgeous white dress that sagged off the shoulders, flowy and the top decorated with several types of flowers.

"Oh, okay," (Y/N) nodded, completely unaware that there would be no girls' night.

Just a really good plan to help force these desperate lovebirds together.

"If this doesn't get him staring, then he's blind," Silena concluded before popping on some lip gloss onto the daughter of Nyx. She could admit, she looked very pretty but her stomach became a bundle of nerves when thinking about how Percy may either ignore her and or she'd finally unblind herself to the longing looks of the son of Poseidon.

She walked out of Aphrodite cabin right as lunchtime came, and she received multiple stares as she made her way.

"How's your day been?" Luke came up behind her, swinging his arm around her shoulders.

"Honestly I still think you're crazy," She confessed, "Percy doesn't-"

He pecked her cheek without warning before whispering, "Look ahead".

And she has never seen Percy look so angry.

He clenched his tray with the fury of a God, denting it even as she looked at him. He quickly looked away, retreating back to his cabin.

Oh my God's. . .

"Percy likes me."

"Now, tonight-where are you going?!" Luke shouted as she chased after him.

She flung the door open to see his sea blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh Percy."

"I'm sorry I haven't talked to you," He immediately confessed, walking towards her, "I would never be scared of you. I'm scared of what my presence will bring to us. I'm already a target, and I didn't want to risk your safety. But I let Luke get close enough to. . ." He stared into her eyes, "I've liked you since we were eight, and I'm sorry I let my thoughts get ahead of my feelings."

"It wasn't my idea," She couldn't stand to see her sweet boy cry, "Annabeth wanted to make you jealous, make you regret ignoring me, but I didn't believe that you liked me. I never thought that you saw me as anything more than a friend."

(Y/N) grabbed his hands, "I like you, Percy. Gods, I've liked you since the first time you shared your mom's cookies with me. You're so kind, you're selfish beyond any God, and you're the sweetest. I was scared that my mother being Nyx might have pushed you away."

His hand came up to her face, "not even the Gods above could separate the two of us."

His eyes glanced between her eyes and lips, hesitating.

"Kiss me, Percy Jackson."

And he did.

The kiss was something out of a movie. She could feel the amount of love he had for her, one hand remaining on her cheek while the other held her hand. She leaned into him, and he seemed to chase her lips as she pulled away for air.

"Not everyone can breathe underwater," She reminded him with a smile.

"I think we might lose a friend tonight," Percy said, and (Y/N) frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Luke put his lips on my girl. I'll provoke single combat," He pulled out riptide, and her eyes widened.

He gave her a quick kiss on her lips, "if you don't see me tonight, I'm drowning him."

"Percy!" He ignored her calls as he ran outside, running straight towards Luke, who laughed before realizing that Percy wasn't stopping and started running too.

"Is that Percy?" Grover asked as she walked outside, hearing the shouts coming from the forest of Luke trying to calm down Percy.

"Yup. Call Chiron, he might water board Luke."

But after Chiron managed to stop Percy, they spent the rest of the night in his cabin exchanging kisses and unexpectedly receiving a gift from her mother.

"What's this?" She questioned as the owl flew off, the small package being addressed to both Percy and her.

"From your mom, it looks like," He opened it up, and a necklace with a Triton pendant fell out. Just as he picked it up, it transformed into a black Triton that was covered in black shadows.

"Holy shit!" Percy breathed out as (Y/N) grabbed the note that fell out.

"Oh Gods," seeing her reaction, he bent down and read the note.

"Oh," He observed the Triton, "well. . .at least we know she cares."

Break my daughters heart and I'll kill you with that very Triton,

From your mother, Nyx.

[hotchner-edu]

The Bet | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: The team bets Aaron that he won't be able to find himself a date for Dave's annual summer barbecue. Little do they know, he's already got his eye on you.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Hotch being perfect

It's half past ten, the smell of paper and brewing coffee permeates through the bullpen, and your eyes were narrowed at the small little circle surrounding Emily's desk.

"Okay, I'll bite. What are we talking about?" You finally lean over to ask, rolling your eyes fondly when Derek flashes a mischievous grin at you. He had been giving you numerous glances over the past ten minutes to try and draw your attention, possessing the giddiness and subtly of a puppy.

"Rossi's barbecue is next week." Emily muses, a bright glint in her eyes.

You nod slowly and cautiously, not sure what you were walking into. "Right..." you drag the word out a bit. "And? What are you planning? You only have that kind of smile when you're up to something, Em."

"Well, Rossi's making plus one's mandatory this year." Derek says with a sly grin, crossing his arms as he leans back against Emily's desk.

You raise your eyebrows and glance to Spencer. "Oh? And we're all in agreement with this new rule?"

"I believe Rossi's exact words were 'you people need to get out more,' so..." Emily laughs softly, shrugging as if his words had become law.

Spencer frowns a little and nods. "He also said that it would be good to bring someone we actually like and know because 'a man who doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.'"

"Did Rossi really just quote the fucking Godfather at us." You deadpan and glance over to Emily who raises her hands up and shrugs again. "Okay, fine. Now I'm a bit scared to ask, but why are you guys laughing?"

Derek smiles brightly before answering with an amused tone. "Because this means Hotch has to bring a date too. Rossi's already made a bet with him that he won't be able to find a date, and we're all getting in on the action too. Losers owe a hundred each."

"Wow, Rossi's not wasting any time. So, what did you guys bet on?" You ask with a near unimpressed tone and raise an eyebrow.

Spencer glances between the three of you guys before giving you the Sparknotes version. "Well, the three of us are betting with Rossi. Penelope's still deciding, and we haven't gotten to JJ yet."

"Well, I'll bet you twenty that JJ decides to sit out on this. I mean, guys, please, are you all really convinced that Aaron Hotchner of all people can't score himself a date?" You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed by the wit of your three friends.

You have to refrain from speaking further, knowing it'd turn into a spiel of how attractive you thought your unit chief was. Plus, you weren't trying to deal with them profiling the HR nightmare-sized crush you harbored for Aaron.

"You're going against the grain, sweetheart?" Derek chuckles, lips tugged into an excited grin.

Emily shakes her head and interjects. "Okay, but there's no way he's going to be able to get a date before the party. He was hand delivered like two weeks worth of paperwork this morning."

"It's Hotch. He's full of surprises." You grin, glancing around the bustling bullpen. "And anyway, you guys already have dates?"

Derek clicks his tongue and nods with a pleased smirk. "Yep. You guys remember Savannah, right?"

"Oh yeah, I like her." Emily chimes in before groaning and leaning back in her chair. "Ugh, I don't know if my guy is going to be busy."

You shake your head and smile, teasing her with a sympathetic tone. "Well, if he has any sense, he'll drop whatever he's doing to come with you."

Emily flashes a grin at you, silently telling you that she'd talk to you later about outfit details. Spencer is lost in thought for a second before you see him frowning.

"Spence?" You ask slowly, tilting your head.

He hesitates for a moment before looking at the three of you. "Do you guys think Rossi will let me in without a date?"

"No." Rossi's voice suddenly rings out as he walks by, blowing on his steaming coffee to hide his grin as he beelines to his office.

Derek snickers and claps his hand over Spencer's shoulder. "There's your answer, kid."

Later that day, you're hunched over your desk and nursing your headache with a cup of tea as you read through some reports. Just as you were about to reread the paragraph you zoned out on, you hear your name being called.

Raising your head up and blinking away the blobs swimming across your vision, you see Aaron standing in front of his office door, hands on the railing as he eyes you. "My office."

Standing up slowly, you feel your muscles aching as you stretch a bit. When you've made your way into Aaron's office, you see him leaning back against his desk, arms crossed.

"Yes, sir?" You ask and slowly come to a stop in the middle of his office.

"You've heard about Dave's party next Saturday, yes?" He asks lowly, eyebrows drawn together.

Nodding in confusion, you wait for him to continue.

"And his terms for the night?"

"Uhm, yes, I have. Is this about the bet being made, sir?" You prod gently, wanting to know if he was trying to sleuth out who was betting what.

"Yes." He answers with an unyielding gaze, looking unsure of himself for a moment. "I was wondering if you had someone you were going to bring."

"Oh." You blush a little and smile smally. "No... A lot of us are still trying to find dates."

Aaron huffs in amusement and nods. "Yeah, Dave's really stepping on our necks this year."

"He just wants an excuse to cook more, I'm sure." You chuckle softly.

"It wouldn't be the first time..." He smiles before clearing his throat and straightening up again. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me that evening as my plus one." He says, looking at you gently.

It feels like the wind is being knocked out of you as you stare at him owlishly. "Me?" You ask dumbly.

"Yes, it's okay if you would prefer not to though, I know this is very sudden." He reassures you.

Blinking rapidly, you see the slightest bit of pink creeping across his ears. "Oh, no, I would love to be your date for the party." You answer quickly, not wanting to let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

"Really?" He says with a bit of relief, the stress immediately dissipating from his face.

You nod and smile shyly, fiddling with your fingers. "Yes. I'm happy that you thought of me."

Aaron nods back and tries to compose himself a bit. "Of course... and I'm happy that you agreed."

Grinning softly at him, you chuckle a bit. "Well, I'll call you this weekend so we can settle the details, if that's okay..."

"That's perfect." He answers quickly, his eyes warm and filled with an indistinguishable emotion.

"Great! Well, I'll, uh, leave you to it then." You slowly back out of the room, shooting him a reassuring smile and fleeing back to your desk in disbelief.

When the night of Rossi's party finally turns up, you're anxiously pacing around your apartment, checking your outfit for the fifth time. Aaron had insisted on picking you up, ever the gentleman.

Time trickles by slowly, and when you finally hear a gentle knock on your door, you're practically flying toward it. Checking the peephole for a split second, you swing the door open and your eyes immediately dart down to the bouquet of roses in Aaron's hand.

"Oh!" You sputter out in shock, taking a moment to gather yourself. "Wow, they're beautiful. Thank you..." Blushing brightly, you smile as he hands you the bouquet.

"You look beautiful." He speaks gently, but his gaze is intense as he takes you in.

"Thank you. You look amazing..." It's clear that you're a bit flustered as you hurry to quickly put the roses in a vase, eyes continuing to flicker to his figure in your doorway.

He was in a black button up that hugged his arms and torso in ways that had you almost faceplanting with every step.

You're amazed that you manage to make it down to where his car is parked without your knees giving out as his hand ghosts over the small of your back the entire trek there.

He opens the passenger door for you and waits for you to get in before gently closing the door. It was driving you up the wall how gentle and warm he was being, and you almost wanted this to be a real date.

As he drives you both to Rossi's mansion, you speak softly to him, trying to ignore the way he steers with one hand on the wheel.

"Spencer texted me yesterday. He's bringing a girl he met at a coffee shop." You smile softly, meeting Aaron's gaze as he rolls to a stop at a red light.

"Really? That's good." He responds quietly, smiling fondly at the mention of Spencer.

"I know. He was worried about it all week, but I don't think he realizes how many women are attracted to him." You chuckle softly, nodding subtly toward the windshield as the stoplight turns green.

Aaron nods and grows quiet. A few minutes of silence pass before he speaks up, voice laden with nerves. "I'm grateful that Dave made the bet."

"Really?" You respond in surprise, wondering if it was because he was going to be a couple hundred dollars richer by the end of the night.

"Yes because it gave me the push I needed to finally ask you out."

Your lips part a bit at his words, butterflies swinging around your stomach and buzzing to the tips of your fingers. "Aaron?"

"I don't want tonight to continue with the pretense that I only asked you out to win the bet." His voice is mellow and growing more confident by the syllable, eyes occasionally flitting to yours as he drives on the highway. "I've admired you for a long time as an agent and a friend... and it didn't take long for that to turn into something more for me."

"Why are you telling me this now?" You muster up the courage to ask, leaning a bit closer to the center console between your seats.

"Because I realized these feelings were only growing everyday I saw you. Even if it's selfish, I want to be honest with you." He braves another glance at you.

You let out a heavy breath full of relief as you smile brightly at him, the setting sun casting a glowing pool of pinks and oranges across your beaming face. "I like you too, Aaron. I have for a long time as well."

Aaron's free hand reaches for your hand, and you happily let him tangle his fingers with yours. It was clear that nothing more needed to be said between you both, the connection between your hearts growing stronger with every ounce of relief and adrenaline that filled you both.

The feeling of his calloused hand in yours keeps a buzzing warmth coursing through your body for the rest of the drive.

When you pull up to Rossi's opulent house, neither of you notice the curtains of the window by the front door moving as your team take turns peeking outside when they realize Aaron's car has arrived.

Aaron walks with you to the front door with his arm around your waist, a bright glint in his gaze as he's radiating unadulterated joy.

Neither of you even pretend to be sheepish when the door swings open and Penelope's squeals meet your ears, everyone piecing together the puzzle when they see Aaron holding you close.

"We were starting to think you both got lost." Rossi's voice rings out as he chuckles and beckons you both in, looking at Aaron with an impressed smirk.

"Thanks for having us, Dave." Aaron grins, squeezing your waist before loosening his hold to let Penelope tackle you in a hug, Emily and JJ's enthusiastic questions not far behind.

"When did that happen?" Emily gapes, excitedly poking your side and raising her eyebrows.

You hug JJ and answer her from over JJ's shoulder. "The day you all made the bet. I told you guys that Aaron's full of surprises."

"Remind me to never bet against you in the future. Well, someone get Derek over here." Emily shakes her head in disbelief as you all slowly migrate toward the kitchen.

Aaron's hand finds yours again as you triumphantly smile, "Oh right, I hope you all brought your wallets! It's time to pay up."

"My man!" Derek's voice echoes around the house as he emerges from the wine cellar, beaming at Aaron. "Where's your date?" He asks, clearly unaware of the proximity between you and Aaron.

Aaron holds up your joined hands and chuckles. "I think this means I win?"

Morgan nearly drops the bottle of wine in his grip as he swivels his head for a double take at you both.

Rossi leaps toward Morgan, arms extended forward as panic seeps into his eyes. "Careful! That's 1860 Madeira!"

Morgan groans and lets Rossi wrestle the bottle from his grip. "Will you ever let us win at something, man?"

Aaron's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he rubs your knuckles with his thumb and shakes his head in amusement. "Not a chance."

[r3starttt]

YOUR WOMAN

☆ lawyer! Abby

CW: dom-top! abby. sub! reader. thigh riding. spanking. good girl-princess-angel.

Abby was beyond exhausted. This whole week had been full of dumb people bothering her and her current clients - a married couple, because there were papers missing or formalities unfinished.

And no matter what she did, there was always something wrong, and having the patience she has, whenever she was awake her humor was horrible, which lead to her keeping distance with you. Whenever she tried to sleep, she couldn't, and it was torture to see your clearly hurt expression or having the most stressful nightmares whenever she could finally close her eyes.

She'd proposed to spend the whole weekend with you, but of course she couldn't get what she wanted, ever.

Starting with her being awake early in the morning by the stress and all the caffeine she consumed a day before making effect on her body, still. Then, her clients panicking over another important paper deal that apparently had to do with her. She couldn't even have a proper breakfast, not even sit next to you and at least watch you eat and hear you talk about your week. Nothing.

So when the sunlight started to fade, you felt like a blessing appeared. Forgetting about how much you've needed her the whole week, you needed her to have a rest, to distract her mind a little. And what's better than you both getting what you much need in a little time? She sure can get some minutes for this.

So, with only one of her t shirts you innocently walked outside her office, around thousands of times before she noticed you. Or so you thought since you heard that pretty laugh she has. The one that she uses for mocking you, such a pleasure.

"Come here" she looked tired, and it made you regret your plan, just for a couple seconds before you saw the veins on her hands shine just perfectly when she patted on her lap for you to come sit on her.

"What're you doing? Mhm?" You placed your legs intertwined with hers, making yourself comfortable in the small chair she had been working at all day. Hesitating a little, you responded "nothing?"

"Oh, sure we're doing nothing?" Her fingers trailed a small path along the sides of your thighs, rolling the hem of your shirt up your hips. You, on the other hand, let your weight rest fully on her, positioning the palms of your hands on top of her shoulders to keep you in place.

"I'm pretty sure we do" your fingers grabbed the sides of her glasses gently, taking them off. While placing them on top of the wooden desk, you took a glance at the screen, almost darkening at how long it had been since she paid attention to it.

As much as you desired her, you couldn't dare to keep her busy from work, which didn't seem like the occasion.

Her usual braid was messy, with some locks of her hair dancing above her cheeks. You moved them behind her ears, tracing a path down her neck which was lately followed by your lips letting open mouthed kisses along it.

The pressure growing in between your legs grew at each move you or her did. Her leg bouncing felt like hell, and you couldn't help but rub yourself on her. You could feel her grinding, her hands leading your ass as she pleased.

Your last sight was her eyes closing, previously for you. Her mouth opening very slightly as the feeling of your saliva sent shivers to her whole body.

The grip on your lower back got tighter, lowering till her hands were fully grasping at your ass, trying to prevent you from moving. You only kept on fighting her. "Don't" she hissed.

You laughed in between kisses, ending in her clavicle connected to your lips by a small trail of saliva. Your hips kept on grinding on her lap, and by how her leg also kept bouncing you thought she was just fine with it, she wasn't.

"Fuck it, stop" her voice sounded too overwhelmed for you to take it serious, until she made you take it seriously. "Stop it, stay".

You whined at it, annoyed by all her restrictions even when she was the one that needed a hard fuck this time. You hate- despised that stubborn side of her, the one that kept you under her control all the time, because what else could you want on days like this than just please her and make her cum all over you, make her take a proper break. Fuck her.

You were ready to just sit on her lap, have a quick make out session and leave her alone, but that's not what she meant, and you knew it.

"Don't act like that" her thumb slided outside your lips, down your chin. "You wanted my attention, so bad? Then fucking take it"

Your tongue slid out your lips, making space for her fingers. Her hand pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against you in such messy kiss. Drool all over your faces.

She'd laugh in between kisses, pressing you closer by holding the back of your head and practically lead you to where she wanted, how she wanted.

She could feel- see the damp spot on her pants, growing every time she groaned in your mouth, whined at you deliciously you'd tuck at her braid. She couldn't wait any longer either.

Her hands pressed on your chest, pushing you enough for her to have space to speak. "You're gonna take my pants off" she murmured, her nose dancing closely to yours "and you're gonna ride 'em"

You stupidly nodded, standing on your feet again, taking your time to get rid of her belt and- god, such gorgeous view. The warm light of her office lightening her legs, her thighs, her stomach showing once you made a mess of her and her blouse. "Sit"

You did as you were told, sitting as you were in the very first beginning. "You think you can get yourself off?" Her hands kept you in place, not even letting you realize what was happening. You just nodded, letting her manhandle you as she wished.

"Good" you heard her husky voice, her hands making circles along the fat of your ass, leading you up her thigh, then down her knee. You let out small whimpers, already pooling her whole leg, clenching at the emptiness. "Good girl"

Every time your clit rubbed against her skin- there was such an obscene sound, wet, loud. Abby couldn't help but widen her smile, you looked so inviting, so pretty, just for her. Smile that vacuumed out of her face the moment you, cautionary, tried to increase the speed.

Her hand moved off your ass, slapping it just a few seconds later. You felt your legs shake at it, such delicious pleasure with a mix of pain starting to mix just right near your cunt. "So wet mhm? Like it when I do that?" She mocked.

"Making a mess on me" her lips pressed over your clavicle, leaving tender kisses along it. Your lips kept right next to her ear, giving her the privilege of hearing your agitated breathing, your whines and pleads over and over again.

There was a knot of pleasure appearing on your stomach, her hands, her words, her smell, her everything was making you insane. The feeling of her bare legs somehow hitting your clit and arousal just perfectly, as if your bodies were made to fit with each other. You knew you wouldn't last long.

The plush of your thighs got harshly gripped by her fingers. "I know baby, I know" You replied equally, holding yourself with the help of your hands on her neck, now being lead to a much satisfying and fast speed than before. "C'mon"

"It's okay angel, yeah, yeah" Abby mumbled as she felt your body filling on top of her. She felt the wetness on her thigh increasing more and more, you could only thank her for it. "Ride it out, just like that"

"Fuck- abby" You let out breathlessly, your voice sloghtly acute. Her hands moved to your back, holding you in place. You looked fucking gorgeous. "Such a good girl f' me princess. Did so good f' me" your ears got covered in a wave of compliments, how you've done so good, how pretty you looked, all followed by kisses on your temple, circles on your back. God she was fucking sweet.

"Come here" you shifter your gaze upwards, meeting her eyes, so shiny and full of adoration. "Kiss" your lips pressed on hers, not caring about your still pretty evident exhaustion or the mess you've done.

"Do me a favor" she mumbled, giving you a short kiss after. You replied with a quiet 'yeah?'.

"Lick my thigh clean, can you?" a sheepish smile adorned your face, rolling your eyes yet doing as she asked you to, a favor, right?

Your feet stepped the cold floor, slowly getting on your knees. Leaning your head closer to her thigh, you stick out your tongue, taking a taste of the mess you've done on her. Your eyes never left hers.

Her fingers trailed the path of your cheek bones, as if she was still guiding you through it.

Your hands travelled to the sides of her legs, stopped by her own hands once she realized what you were trying to do. "Nuh uh, go get clean and take a nap" your tongue got back to its place, leaving one last kiss on her thigh. You weren't planing on fighting with her.

"Good" You stood up, giving her a last glance, taking note of how she looked even when half of her wasn't an unusual view for you. "Promise I'll finish... all this" her hand signaled to her screen, clearly still a bit stressed by her work. "Then I'll be with you, doing whatever you want, yeah?" You simply smiled at her, trying to let abby know she could always take her time. You'd wait an eternity for her if necessary.

"How's that sound then?" You humorously rolled your eyes "perfect" her hands opened one more time, making space for you. You followed her, feeling her hands embrace you.

"Thanks" she murmured, her voice muffled but her face being so close to your stomach. You laughed, completely enamored by her, your hands caressing her hair. "I better get what I want later"

Abby pushed you away gently, laughing back and nodding at your request. "Go" You turned around, getting to feel her hands one last time, on your ass, so sweet of her, right?

[alchemistc]

It's not something he thinks about terribly often - no real reason to, until this moment, with an arm slung over Evan's waist and a pair of eyes blinking at him out of the darkness.

Maddie and Howie are significantly smaller than Buck and Tommy. They are. There's no denying it. The bed that probably fits the two of them neatly with plenty of room to spare is just no match for Evan's mile-long legs, their broad chests and wide shoulders. Evan's tendency to kick one leg out from under the duvet and Tommy's habit of sprawling are just no match for this perfectly normal sized bed.

He'd said so even as they were turning out lights, voices low as they bypassed the frankly laughable double in the spare room in favor of the master, and Evan had joked that it wasn't like they didn't end most nights practically on top of one another, anyway, so what did it matter if they were a little cramped?

And he'd been right - at the time. In a California king they barely used half the bed - some combination of torsos and limbs always sliding together, heads tucked under chins and legs tangled together, arms slung over waists and pillows shared between them. Six months past the argument that had tipped them straight out of the honeymoon phase and firmly into 'actually we're just like this and that's clearly not going to change' and Tommy can't think of a single night they've actually laid down to sleep and not ended up a sprawl of interconnected pieces.

And they'd made it work, even though Maddie and Howie's bed is not large enough for two 6'2" men.

It wouldn't be a problem, except for the shadow hovering just a few feet in front of a softly snoring Evan - wet eyes and messy hair and a trembling bottom lip that Tommy is sure other people also find as devastating as he does, in this moment. "I sleep with you?" Jee Yun murmurs, wiping at her snotty nose and blinking her eyes like she doesn't already know Tommy would do pretty much anything to wipe the sad little frown off her face.

It's just.

There's no fucking room in this bed. Sure, if she'd had a bad dream and gone to seek comfort from her parents, there'd have been room, but, as Tommy has come to understand, her parents are significantly smaller than he and Evan and if Tommy shifts his weight in the wrong direction the both of them are tumbling off one end of this bed.

Jee's lip trembles.

"Did you have a nightmare, bug?" Tommy asks softly, and Jee shakes her head fiercely, tucking her chin towards her chest, a hand reaching out to dig tiny hands into the duvet. Stubborn, like the rest of her family, a refusal to admit weakness he's been in an uphill battle to stomp out of her uncle for going on a year now. Evan mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, and Jee turns still-wet eyes on Tommy.

"I sleep here with Uncle Tommy?"

Which is not playing fair at all.

When they'd all but shoved Maddie and Howie out the door to go enjoy a long weekend, insistent that it would be easier on Jee if they watched her in her own home, Jee had been ecstatic. She'd bounced off the walls for hours, dragged Tommy around with all the resolve of a child aware she had him wrapped both figuratively and literally around her tiny little fingers (her whole hand could wrap around two of his fingers at a time), insisted on piggy back rides when it became clear that riding on either of their shoulders was just a recipe for bonked heads. She'd tired herself out before the sun had even set, and passed out with her head pillowed on Evan's thigh and one foot tucked in Tommy's armpit, the other shoved under his knee on the couch.

She'd barely stirred when Tommy swung her up into his arms and tucked her into bed, and Tommy had spent a good twenty minutes after the fact furiously reminding Evan that they were not having sex in his sisters bed.

("The biological impossibility of knocking me up aside, you know what it does to me when I see you with kids, Tommy."

"Yeah, well, let your non-existent ovaries quiver with excitement for a few more days and I'll make it up to you.")

The Uncle Tommy thing is new. As in, she's never used it before this evening, nodding off in her seat while she picked at her chicken nuggets, and maybe Tommy had gone so still when she'd murmured it that Evan had actually been a little concerned, and maybe he'd indulged her request for a third episode of Bluey because of it, but he's a grown ass man who can surely let her down gently - sweep her off her feet and tuck her back in to her own bed and sit with her until she passes out again.

Or Jee can employ an absolutely deadly combo of trembling lip and tears at the corner of her eyes and Tommy can cave like the idiot he is.

Tommy assesses the scant space on Evan's side of the bed - knee curled up towards his torso and ankle dangling off the side of the bed, a hand under his cheek as he continues to snuffle in his sleep. No go there. Tommy's flush against him, knees tucked behind Evan's, arm still settled against his waist, and at his back there's plenty of space but if Tommy rolls sideways he's got maybe six inches of leeway between himself and the end of the mattress.

Tommy sighs and rolls. Jee's face lights up. Evan snorts awake and grunts in pain as he gets an elbow to the sternum and a knobbly knee to the give of his stomach when Jee climbs right up over him to shove into the newly opened space between them.

"Jee?" comes the tired voice as Evan shuffles onto his left side to face Tommy and their new company, rubbing at his eyes and smacking his lips like he's thirsty.

"Bad dream," Tommy intones softly even as Jee settles herself between them. There's a sharp knee dangerously close to his groin and a tiny little hand fisted in his sleep shirt and a face shoved into his rib cage, and Evan is giving him that look again.

Evan rests a hand against Jee's back, fingers shifting back and forth across her shoulders while she shifts her weight to find the optimal position. Jee sighs into Tommy's shirt, hot wet breath fanning out over the little spot, and kicks a leg back at an angle that must just miss something soft of Evan's, if the look in his face is anything to go by.

She's asleep before Tommy can count to ten - out like a fucking light in the space between them.

Evan's eyes meet his. It's a conversation they've had in fits and starts for months, now - since the first time he caught sight of Evan holding a baby and nearly had a meltdown in aisle three of Trader Joe's because he'd tucked that idea away years ago.

It's one they really need to have in full. Soon.

Evan's hand shifts, fingers reaching for the bolt of Tommy's jaw, thumb pressing into his cleft and then shifting sideways. "She played you like a fiddle," Evan says, voice soft, grin going wide, and Tommy glances down at the shock of dark hair tucked between them with the sudden realization that of the two of them, Evan is gonna end up being the disciplinarian.

Christ, they're fucking screwed.

He breathes, rubs his face into the pillow, reaches up to cup Evan's hand in his palm, enjoying the stretch of heat across his cheek and jaw.

"Go back to sleep," Tommy tells him, and doesn't fight the pull of a few more hours for himself when Evan sighs and lets his eyes drift closed.

[wayneskluv]

it’s possible she wants you back ¡! ❞ | n. romanoff

summary: your super cool assassin gf broke up with you but she wants you back sooo win win ig | pt 2 with fluff/smut?

word count: 711

pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!reader

warning: mentions of alc/nat being drunk, use of petnames “love” & “baby”

authors note: i would let her do anything to me but i'd also give her a hug and tell her everything's gonna be okay & the use of y/n, i had to for it to make sense, please forgive me 🙏

NATASHA thought breaking up with you would be for your own good, she didn’t deserve you. She was always late for date night due to her duties as an avenger, she had consistent nightmares that kept you awake and she was jealous of anyone who, well, looked at you—she couldn’t really blame them though.

“Baby..” Her whines echoed from behind your front door, from where a slightly intoxicated drunk as fuck Natasha was located. She was too drunk to be able to knock on the door, but you knew she was there, you knew her voice.

You take a deep breath, before you place a trembling hand on your door handle and gently pushing down as if it would break if you looked at it. "Jesus, Nat." A small sigh escapes you as you register her pathetic state, your hand instinctively reaching out to prop her upright. You haven't seen her this drunk in years, and she, most certainly, was not a lightweight.

"C'mon." You gently guide her into your living room, being as delicate as humanly possible. You sit her down on your couch, though as soon as you let go, she sprawls out lazily. "Gotta sit up, Nat. Don't wanna be sick.” You sound like a disappointed parent berating your child, because as much as you were mad at your ex, you loved her with your entire heart, and you still cared about her immensely.

You begin to rise to your feet, to go grab her a glass of water, before a pitiful hand drapes across your arm. "Please, Don't hiccup leave me." If it was anyone else, you'd have pushed them off immediately but you couldn't ignore her pleading eyes. "Yeah, 's okay. I'll stay. 'm not going anywhere."

As you speaks, the thick stench of liquor floods your senses and you feel ever-so-slightly ill. "Nat, love, what happened?" The breakup was fresh, the pet-name was a slip of the tongue, but you couldn't go back now—it’s not like she'd remember in the morning.

"Miss you. So, so, so much." The words roll off her tongue in a drunken slur, and you wouldn't have heard them if you weren't paying careful attention to her. You felt sorry for her, in all honesty-sure, she'd broken up with you without telling you why, and sure, she'd been acting distant, but she seemed genuinely upset.

"You still haven't told me why you broke up with me." You let out a dry chuckle, your shoulders untensing subtly as you notice her slowly regain colour to her face. “Okay, I'll tell you, but you can't tell y/n." The drunken hush she tries to add to her elevated tone is adorable and you have to stifle a grin as you nod, mock seriously. "| promise."

Once she gets your confirmation, she pauses for a few seconds as her head throbs harder, but then it slows and her eyes meet yours. "I was worried I wasn't good enough." Oh. That's not what you were expecting. You were expecting her to say it was something you did, like put an empty peanut butter jar back in the cupboard or anything, really, she has a bit of a temper.

"Really? So it's nothing I did?" Your voice goes up three octaves as you glance down at her, nervously biting down on your bottom lip. "What? 'Course not." It's clear the alcohol is taking a toll on her, and she looks as if she's going to vomit all over you.

You let out a slightly overdramatic sigh, “You take the bed, l'll the couch.” Your arm loops down around her waist, carefully pulling her up off the couch—if you weren't holding her so tightly, she'd had fallen head first into the ground.

The sound of hiccups echo your apartment as you both walk into your bedroom, something she was rather familiar with. You took no caution in letting her drop onto your bed, though you made sure she was in a proper sleeping position to avoid choking on her own vomit.

She falls asleep almost immediately and it's the first time since you've broken up you've seen her look so peaceful. You stand in the door for a few more moments before reluctantly dragging yourself toward the couch.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”

She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Love Is A Losing Game

The avox stood against the wall, waiting for you to beckon, while you sat in your sunroom with your longtime best friend, Livia. You were at a small table drinking tea and listening to her complain about her toddler, Plutarch.

“Ugh. I swear, I can't even go to the powder room without him following me.” Reaching for a biscuit, your dirty blonde friend sighed, “I told Hilarious that we need to hire a nanny, but he said no.”

She took a small bite of her biscuit as you sipped on your tea. You didn't know why she was so upset about her toddler wanting to spend time with her. And you told her so too.

“You just don't understand how demanding motherhood is, Y/N. Just you wait and see.” Pointing to your round belly, Livia factually remarked, “In a few more months when you pop out Coriolanus’ little brat you'll be singing a different tune.”

“Don't call Cassian Xandros a little brat.” You snippily ordered your friend, causing her to just roll her eyes at you. Setting down your teacup, you decided to change the subject to something that you needed to get off your chest; something that's been eating away at your mind. “I think Coryo's having an affair.”

“He's only been president for a few months, Y/N. If word got out, well, it'd be scandalous and I'm sure his political career would be dead in the water.” Livia told you while nibbling on her lemon butter biscuit. “Do you know with whom?”

“No, but I know he has to be having an affair, Livia. I mean he comes and goes at all hours and half the time he's not even coming to bed; we haven't slept together in a while too.”

“Oh no, now that is a problem.” The dirty blonde socialite sighed. “I bet it's Clemensia Dovecote that he's cheating with. You don't know, since you were a couple grades below us at the Academy, but they were always walking into the school linked arm in arm. Even though they denied it, they looked like a couple back then.” Livia bluntly informed you, picking up her teacup and sipping it.

“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly told your friend. Reaching for your own teacup, you revealed the name of the person you thought your husband had a thing for back in his Academy days. “Coryo was always with Sejanus back then; I always got the vibe that they were a little bit more than just friends.”

“Oh I hope not. He was district.” Livia spat out; the thought of the president having a past love affair with a district person making her skin crawl.

If only she knew about what went down between him and Lucy Gray. Oh, she'd shit her pants if she knew about that.

You know, of course, since he told you about it after a year of dating. When you had to all but pull his teeth to get him to reveal why he refused to tell you that he loved you; show you anything other than lust and his OCD tendencies.

It didn't bother you.

Correction, him having Lucy Gray as his ex and his failed first love didn't bother you, but the number that she did on him- now that’s what bothered you.

She fucked his head up pretty bad; took you a long time to unfuck it up too. To get him to be able to confess his love to you.

But somewhere deep inside of your soul, you always feared that Coryo was just telling you what you wanted to hear. That he didn't truly love you; that he could turn to somebody else once he got bored of you.

“Yea…but they were close friends. Like brothers” You reminded Livia. “And his death hit Coriolanus hard.”

That was an understatement. Your husband still had nightmares about his fellow comrade’s death. It happened a decade ago, but he was still haunted some nights by nightmares. Those nights you usually had to ride his cock to calm him down so he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He never talked about the nightmares, other than the one time he told you that it was about Sejanus’ death. You never pried, knowing that the Plinth boy's execution was a taboo topic for Coriolanus.

The socialite rolled her eyes, only to suggest, “If you think he's having an affair then you should wait up for him tonight and confront him.” Giving you a look from over her teacup, she added in, “It's what I would do.”

Coriolanus was exhausted. No, wait, take that back- he was FUCKING exhausted.

Between trying to clean up the fucking mess that older then dirt President Ravenstill left for him and trying to ensure a smooth transition of head gamemaker duties to his successor (a recent University grad that sadly didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground), he was stretched too thin.

Burning the candle at both ends as one might say.

He was barely sleeping; worse he was barely able to spend anytime with you.

You were 6 months pregnant with his first child.

A son.

He felt guilty for being in his office on the opposite side of the presidential palace or at the Citadel, but he didn't have a choice. The games along with trying to keep the country afloat was his top priority.

As much as he wanted to spend his late afternoons and evenings with you, he couldn't. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck you dumb on his dick every night too, but sadly he was just too tired anymore for that either.

When the new Head Gamemaker calls up in the middle of the night frantically asking what to do if an intern falls into a mutt tank…well…yea…that's when Coriolanus knows he has to do two jobs instead of just one.

He's stuck puppeteering the new head gamemaker *cough* telling him step by step how to do is damn job since he fucking fudged his job application and has shit for brains *cough* and running a country that's national bank account’s lower than it should be *cough* looks like President Ravenstill and his cabinet were embezzling funds or something cause the numbers aren't adding up *cough*.

“Yes, well, if you need any more assistance on this matter don't hesitate to call.” Coriolanuse tightly told the Head Gamemaker. The man was grating on his nerves. Before the unqualified idiot could utter a word, the president said goodbye and hung up.

Hung up with a firm, loud, clunk since he was so tired and aggravated.

Unfortunately, the president was always tired anymore. He was even too tired to fuck you these days, which was truly depressing for him since your Coryo felt you were even more beautiful now that your belly's round with his child.

Coriolanus felt that your pregnancy makes you look radiant. Your skin had a glow to it, he felt you look ethereal.

Your tits were full from the milk your body was making in order to feed your son once he was born; he loves your milk heavy boobs. Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man; so your boobs going up by 2 sizes was heaven for him. The president enjoys sucking and massaging them in his large, calloused hands while you ride his cock. Burying his face in them, peppering kisses in your cleavage.

Something his exhaustion has been keeping him from doing.

Also, your ever growing belly (full of the precious life you created during a very passionate and lustful night 6 months prior) made his chest swell with a burning pride. Coriolanus loves kissing your stretch marks and running his hands all over your belly.

He also enjoys whispering to your belly, telling your growing son all kinds of father-son secrets.

But he’s been too tired and tied up with his never ending work to do that ritual.

Half the time he was passing out on the sofa in his office before he could even make it to your room; the other half of the time he was sliding into bed in the wee hours while you were in a deep sleep.

He hated it.

But he has to endure it because he refuses to have the games flop during his first year as President of Panem.

When Coryo dragged his feet into your large, ornate bedroom he wasn't expecting you to be up, waiting for him. He assumed you'd be asleep, like every other night.

“It's nearly 2 in the morning, Y/N. Why aren't you sleeping? You know you need proper sleep in your condition, my darling rose.” Your husband lectured you, tiredly fumbling to untie his tie.

You decided to do what LIvia suggested. Wait for your husband and confront him. So, when he shuffles into your room, a sight for sore eyes, with the nerve to lecture you about being up, you lost it.

Your eyes narrowed at the president as you snipped out, “Coriolanus, I know you're cheating on me. Who is she? Is it Clemensia Dovecote or somebody else?”

Pulling his tie off and tossing it to the side, he looked at you as if you had lobsters crawling out of your head. You’re accusing him of having an affair. Seriously?

“With how I’m spread too thin, darling, where would I ever find the time for an affair?” Coriolanus chuckled.

He thought this was funny, oh how dare he!

“This isn't funny, Coriolanus! You're coming and going at all hours; we never sleep together anymore. Who is she?!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, watching your husband unbutton his waistcoat and take it off.

The platinum blonde’s long fingers numbly unbuttoned his shirt. His tone was flat and tired as he gave you the blunt answer of, “The she that's taking all of my attention off of you, my love, is the shaky finances of Panem and the Hunger Games.”

All of the air was knocked out of your lungs upon hearing your husband's words. All you could do was blink. “What?” you whispered in disbelief.

Coryo's shirt hit the floor, in the pile his red waistcoat and tie was in. Toeing out of his shoes, he sighed, “Being president and passing the baton for the games to an under qualified head gamemaker, unfortunately, has taken up all my time.” Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his deep crimson pants, he offered up a sincere apology of, “I’m sorry, my darling rose, that my neglect made you think, even for a moment, that I’m being unfaithful to you.” His pants pooled around his long, pale legs, and he gracefully stepped out of them. “Y/N, I truly did not mean for you to feel such a way, my love.”

Watching your husband pull off his socks and toss them to the side, you cried tears of joy. “I forgive you; I'm just happy that it's work taking up your attention and not some whore.”

Coriolanus tiredly made his way over to the king-sized bed you shared and climbed into it. Pulling you into his arms, he let out a puzzled scoff of, “Clemmie? Really, of all people to accuse me of having an affair with it's her?”

“I didn't accuse you of cheating with her; that was actually Livia this afternoon when I told her that I suspected you of having an affair.” You informed your husband as he pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“You told that bitch you thought I was cheating on you?!” Coryo exclaimed, his nostrils flaring; baby blues wide in utter horror.

“Don't call Livia a bitch, Coriolanus.” You reprimanded your husband, only to remind him that, “She's my best friend.”

“I don't know how you're best friends with that shrew, darling.” Coriolanus mumbled mostly to himself, even though you heard him. His large, calloused hand rubbed your ever growing baby bump softly. “Telling Livia your ill founded fears was a mistake. She'll just tell that political reject husband of her’s; he'll be calling up Capitol News 6 with a juicy insider story about the unfaithful president.” Coryo’s tongue popped angrily. “My fake affair’s going to be the the main news headliner tomorrow morning, my darling rose.”

“No, it won't, Coryo.” You assured your husband since you had too much faith in your best friend.

Your husband on the other hand didn't have faith in Livia Cardew-Heavensbee, at all. No, he didn't trust her after the temper tantrum she through when her mother informed her that he was courting you, General Prometheus Byzantine’s step-daughter, and had refused to meet with the Cardews regarding a money match.

Coriolanus never told you about that because he didn't want to taint your friendship with the dirty blonde shrew, who only married Hilarious because she couldn't have him: the adoptive heir to the Plinths fortune.

But now maybe it was time to tell you. Maybe it was time to taint and ruin a girlhood friendship of yours.

Only to ensure that you wouldn't trust anyone that didn't carry the Snow name.

Yes, the only people you could trust were him and Tigris. He was even leery about Tigris’ new lover, Aleka. Eh, but that was because his spies haven't been able to dig up enough information on them for the president to decide whether or not they were trustworthy.

But, he's sure that after he tells you the truth about Livia that you'll be rethinking that friendship.

And when (not if) that article hits the news as the big headliner, he'll make sure to invite Hilarious over for drinks.

Drinks that only one of them will enjoy.

Snow lands on top and he'll make sure that anybody who slanders his good name or makes you believe he's an unfaithful man, when he's actually the most devoted and faithful husband in all of Panem, chokes on their own blood.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen , @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1

[wileys-russo]

“i was sleeping” “yeah well now your not” leah williamson

4am wake up II l.williamson

"then there was a magician! babe you know i fucking love magicians." leah slurred as you hummed. "was he as good as the one at your birthday baby?" you questioned hearing a gasp.

"oh i forgot about him! fuck i told this guy he was the best and that was a lie!" leah groaned with a whine and you heard a bump and a mumbled apology.

"tripped over someones stupid table. who the fuck put that in the way!" leah huffed with a small hiccup on the other end of the line.

"how rude of them. hey lee? can you take a break from the rum and drink some water for me baby?" you smiled as your girlfriend let out a deep sigh.

"yeah i guess. but only for you baby girl cause you're the best and i love ya!" leah slurred, grunting as she sat down in a booth. "i love you too sweets. are you back with alex and jess again?" you questioned as leah hummed.

"can i speak with al please?" you asked as leah whined. "why! you're my girlfriend and you're not here. alex has her girlfriend with her she doesn't need mine!" leah scoffed making you chuckle, the blonde out at an event which you had to miss due to a clashing family commitment.

family just as important to leah as it was to you she'd completely understood and encouraged you go, even offering to skip the event herself but you'd never let that happen considering she was set to present.

though it was obvious you both had very different nights.

it was your grandma's 90th birthday so you'd had a couple glasses of wine and everything was nicely wrapped up by about ten in the evening, meanwhile it was now midnight and it seemed leah was just getting started at the after party.

much as she'd begged you to come and join her you were far too comfy wrapped up in bed to bother, so leah had settled for a phone call to 'wish you goodnight' which nearly a half an hour later she was still yet to actually say goodnight.

"oh shut up and give her here leah you idiot!" you heard the blondes best friend scoff and there seemed to be a tussle of sorts before the line cleared. "hi sexy. we miss you!" you heard alex greet, your girlfriend gasping in offence and sternly ordering her to never call you that ever again.

"hi scotty. can you get her a water please? if she doesn't have a couple inbetween drinks she'll wake up tomorrow an absolute nightmare to deal with." you chuckled, your girlfriends hangovers something else let alone when she was dehydrated on top of it.

"on it babe. jess isn't drinking so she'll drive her home, wouldn't dare put her in a taxi at this rate." alex chuckled as you heard leah start to sing along to something in the background. "bub we're gonna go dance. i love you!" leah snatched the phone back and blew you a kiss before the line cut off and you sighed in amusement.

you were sure alex would have fun dealing with that.

~

"babyy girll!" your eyes fluttered open at the sudden sound, wincing at the sharp pain which shot through your neck at the awkward position you'd fallen asleep in, phone tucked beside your head where you'd been watching tiktoks before you had.

you heard a loud thud and suddenly the room lit up as you nearly hissed, shielding your eyes as leah flicked the lights on and fell through the door frame stumbling forward and catching herself on the edge of the bed.

"leah?" you rasped out unsure if you were still dreaming or not as the blondes head popped up at the end of the bed where she'd fallen down to the floor.

"thats my name!" she slurred and pulled herself up onto the mattress with a grunt as you rubbed your eyes tiredly and pulled yourself into a sitting position. "you didn't wait up for me." your girlfriend frowned somewhat adorably.

"i was sleeping." you smiled with a shake of your head. "yeah? well now you're not!" the blonde slurred with a grin crawling toward you.

"oh jesus." you mumbled at the state of your drunken lover, unable to hold back the amused smile at her scruffy state.

"my names leah but you can call me jesus if ya want babe. but i know you prefer oh god! oh god! oh god!" your eyes widened and you lurched forward to cover her mouth now much more awake as your girlfriend started to mock your moans.

"oh i missed you." you were all but tackled back down to the bed by the taller girl, grimacing at the strong smell of alcohol on her breath as she tried to kiss you but missed as her lips instead kissed the pillow beside you.

"i missed you too lee. but time for bed i think!" you smiled, tapping your phone which glared back 3:56am. "i have a favour first." leah smiled charmingly as best as she could, pushing herself up and off of you allowing you to sit up again.

"mmm?" you hummed with a raised eyebrow, slipping out of bed and making your way round to help her get her shoes off where she was struggling with them. "make me some food? please bubba?" the blonde pouted, the term of endearment one that only left her lips when she was absolutely smashed.

"lee, darling its nearly four in the morning. sleep now and i'll make you the best breakfast in bed ever later!" you promised, pushing her hands away and helping her wiggle out of her suit pants next causing her to let out a sigh of relief.

"do you come on the menu?" the defender smirked, eyes starting to droop as you shook your head. "so i see we've had some tequila shots then yeah?" you laughed, the particular alcohol forever making the girl ridiculously horny much to her ongoing frustration that you refused to engage in anything when she was drunk.

"maybe a few. but i had some water! just for you." she pointed to you and attempted a wink which just wound up being an over dramatic blink. "did you now? how responsible you are." you teased, moving away to grab her some comfier clothes to sleep in.

"i am the responsible one in the relationship duh. i'm older and wiser!" leah sighed as you grabbed her hands and tugged her to sit up, struggling to unbutton her shirt as she smacked your hands away.

"i can do it! strip for you any day sexy." she wiggled her eyebrows and flopped back into bed, and sure enough though it took her a few minutes she managed to get the shirt off as you helped her up and into a large baggy t-shirt.

"do you want me to take your makeup off baby?" you asked softly, chuckling as her energy levels seemed to be dropping and she nodded wordlessly and laid back down as you darted into the bathroom.

"you're so pretty. my pretty girl!" leah sighed out, hands resting on your legs as you hovered over her gently wiping away her makeup with the micellar wipes. "you're very pretty too, even a drunken mess." you quickly pecked her lips as you finished and moved off of her.

ignoring the whines for you to come back you hurried into the kitchen grabbing some advil and a bottle of water for the blonde in the morning, checking the door was locked and chuckling at the wake of destruction she'd left in her path toward the bedroom.

"that's a tomorrow problem." you mumbled with a smile at the multitude of knocked over and dropped items all over the ground, only picking up your girlfriends suit jacket and draping it over a chair.

"baby!" leah yelled out with a whine as you quickly returned. "i'm right here." you promised, helping her get into bed properly and gently swatting away her hands which grabbed and poked at you demanding you give her attention.

flicking the lights back off you blinked a few times to adjust, not that you needed to with how your girlfriend was kicking off, easily able to follow her voice back to bed.

"where the fuck-oh hi bubba!" she grinned in the darkness finally feeling the bed dip as you moved in beside her, latching onto you. "cuddles please, love you." leah slurred quietly, patting your thigh affectionately as you shuffled down the bed, her head moving to rest right above your heart with a tired sigh.

"goodnight leah." you chuckled, tangling your hands in her hair and messing about with it like you knew she loved. you heard her mumble something back but had no idea what it was as you smiled pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

the only woman you'd let wake you up at four in the morning for a cuddle.

[morganwrites12672]

Crush

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: The sorority girl that Sam has had a crush on for ages approaches him at a party one night.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ Sorority Girl!Reader. Drinking. Smoking. It's a party. Smut. Fingering (f!receiving). Unprotected sex (bad idea, don't try this at home).

A/N: MINORS DNI also, thank you to @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles for beta reading and helping with some of this for me!

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The music was blasting throughout the house. Everyone had already drank too much. Well, almost everyone. She had been drinking soda all night. Being the designated driver was something she didn't mind doing. It was difficult though. Sorority girls were a fucking nightmare after a couple of shots.

Most of her Saturday nights were spent like this. The only difference was that by now she had usually gone upstairs with a guy. She leaned against the doorframe in the kitchen, watching the party. She took a sip of her soda. It was late, she was starting to get bored.

Parties weren't near as much fun sober. Probably because they had no real appeal. Without the liquor coursing through her veins all she saw was a bunch of idiots getting shit faced. She didn't think much of it. Next week, whenever one of her sorority sisters would be on designated driver duty, she would have a blast. Get shit faced, hookup. Anything she wanted. Anyone she wanted.

Being a sorority girl had benefits.

She threw her empty solo cup into the kitchen trash can before venturing back out to the party. She weaved her way through all of the drunk college kids. Knowing that she looked just like them on any other weekend made her feel a bit stupid. She ignored those thoughts. They wouldn't prevent her from partying next weekend. She needed to have something to look forward to after a week of hell.

She made her way to an area with less people; right beside the staircase. She noticed a man with shaggy brown hair and smiled. She could tell that he wasn't from one of fraternity's around here, or on the football team. That didn't seem to bother her for some reason.

She gave him a smile, her glossed lips shimmering in the lights of the party. "What's your name?" She asked him, eyes taking him in. He made her stomach do a back flip. The feeling was. . . oddly unusual. It almost made her do a double take.

The mans cheeks turned a soft shade of pink before he replied. It wasn't that hard for her to notice how flustered he was. She found it adorable. Again, something oddly unusual. She usually chose guys with a lot more confidence.

"Uh, Sam." His words were nearly drowned out by the music of the party. He realized how quiet his words had came out and repeated them a bit louder. His eyes drank her in. He couldn't believe that she was talking to him. The girl he'd had a crush on for most of his time at Stanford.

"It's nice to meet you, Sam." She replied before giving him her name. She fixed a piece of hair that had fallen into her face, pushing it behind her ear so that it wouldn't bother her any longer. "Did you come here alone?" She asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

"N-no. My friend made me come," He replied. He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair to fix his messy bangs. Her eyes lingered as she watched him. He noticed her gaze and his blush deepened.

His words made her smile brighten, "I take it that means you're available?" She asked. She wanted to confirm that he was single. She might get called a slut but that doesn't mean that she goes after guys in a relationship. It's not her fault that most lie.

Sam's eyes went wide. His heart hammered in his chest. He stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Was she seriously asking him that question? He had known who she was before she'd introduced herself. Who didn't? She was pretty and popular. Sam had always hidden a tiny crush on her. Well, him and half of the other guys at this school.

"I-I am."

"Good," she said with a smile. She fixed her dress, pulling the hem down from where it had ridden up on her thighs. She loved the dress she was wearing. It was gorgeous and fit her body like a glove. The only issue was how much of a pain it was to keep pulling it down all night. It was worth it though.

"You look nice," Sam said, having built up an ounce of courage (which has already vanished). He was nervous as hell. Confidence wasn't his strong suit.

She leaned in a bit closer. "Thanks. You look great yourself," She replied. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. He looked like a god damn dream. She wondered how she hadn't noticed him before tonight.

Sam's eyes lingered on the way her sparkly eyeshadow gleamed in the light. He couldn't help but admire her. She was fucking gorgeous tonight, and any other night. He thought she looked incredible no matter where he saw her, or what she wore. She was perfect in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kiss you now, okay?" She said, making sure that he was okay with it. It wasn't often that she was the one to make the first move. She enjoyed it. Usually guys were pawing at her body with their tongues down her throat before even asking her name. Sam was different.

When Sam stayed silent she pressed her lips against his. She guided one of his hands to rest on her hip. She deepened the kiss, her tongue slowly sliding into his mouth. His lips tasted like cheap beer and Carmex.

He let out a soft groan as she kissed him harder. He let her have most of the control, going along with her movements. He let his hand gently squeeze her hip. She didn't seem to mind.

She pulled away after a minute, wanting to see the look on his face. The look on his face made her want to drag him upstairs that very second. His cheeks were a perfect shade of pink, his mouth hung open slightly, and his eyes were wide. She noticed the way his hazel eyes stared at her lips.

She noticed a smudge of pink gloss on his upper lip and wiped it away with her thumb. It made his blush deepen even more. Every touch from her had his body on fire. He has a chance with a girl he'd had a crush on for a while, he couldn't screw this up.

"That was-" she began to say but was cut off whenever Sam kissed her. She let out a small gasp against his lips. She hadn't expected him to do something like that. Not that she minded, not one bit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He moaned into the kiss as she gently tugged on the hair she had been playing with. She walked a few steps backwards, all while still kissing Sam.

Whenever her back hit the wall, she leaned her head back to catch her breath. Sam pressed a cautious kiss to her collarbone. Her body arches into his touch and a smile spread over his lips. He kissed his way up to her jaw line, not yet brave enough to leave an actual hickey. Soft kisses would have to do for now.

"Let's take this upstairs," She said with a smile. Her lip gloss was smudged. She knew it, and didn't give a fuck. She would fix it later. Sam took a step back from her so that she could lead the way. He wasn't sure if she had a specific room in mind.

She walked past him, grabbing his hand as she walked. They walked last a couple drunkenly making out on the stair case, she rolled her eyes. At least she had the decency to get a room. Well, whenever she was sober. Tonight was making her rethink how often she drank. And how wasted she got. Maybe Sam would be a better influence on her.

She walked to the end of the hallway, finding a door that didn't have any noises coming from behind it. She gave sams hand a soft squeeze before opening the door and walking inside. She wasn't used to guys treating her this way. Sam made her feel special, even if she's barely even met him.

The door was shut and locked as soon as they had both stepped inside. She looked up at Sam, admiring every feature of his face. She couldn't help herself. He looked at her in a way that made her feel special. She didn't feel like some cheap hookup. She felt like he wouldn't leave her the second he got his fill.

Her hands went to the top button off his shirt. She paused though. Her eyes met his. "I'm going to take this off now, okay?" She said to him.

"Y-yeah. Okay" Sam's breath caught in his throat as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. She wasn't ripping his clothes off. No, she was taking her sweet time. She wanted to enjoy every second of this. And she would.

As she was unbuttoning his shirt, she leaned up to kiss him again. His hand rested on her hip for a moment before resting on her ass. The two made their way to the bed, their lips never separating. It seemed as though breaking the kiss for even a second would be the end of the world right now.

She laid back on the bed. Sam's shirt had fallen to the floor sometime during the short walk over to the bed. He looked down at her with a smile. She was beautiful. He would never get tired of this view. He could only hope that he'd get the chance to see her again.

She sat up before adjusting the pillows behind her. She leaned back, half sitting up. Sam moved towards her and his hand gently cupped her jaw before kissing her again. She grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her thigh.

She let her hands drift to the waistband of his jeans. She palmed his growing erection through the thick material. He broke the kiss, whimpering against her lips. The beautiful sound made her chuckle softly.

"You like that, huh?" She asked with lustful eyes. Every sound that Sam made had her going crazy.

Sam's cheeks turned red and he didn't reply, his gaze drifting down to the cleavage visible with how low cut her dress was. His eyes widened slightly. He didn't like how easily she was able to fluster him.

"Have you done this before?" She asked. She wanted to make sure that he wasn't about to lose his virginity at a shitty party.

"I-I have," Sam replied a bit quieter. It has been his first year at Stanford with some girl in his old English class. It hadn't been at a party like this though. No, the girl had been over at his apartment to study.

"Can I touch you?" Sam asked as his gaze went even lower. "Please?" He added. His eyes couldn't budge from her thighs. Her dress had ridden up whenever she had sat up against the pillows.

She smiled and pushed her dress up over her hips before spreading her legs for him. Sam grazed his fingers over her black underwear. He looked up at her to see her reaction.

Her breathe caught in her throat. Her core was throbbing. She was desperate for his touch. She noticed his hesitancy. She lifted her hips up a bit and he retracted his hand. She slid her underwear off.

"It's okay, you can touch me." Her words were gentle as she guided his hand to in between her thighs.

Sam slid a finger through her wetness and she gasped. She let her head fall back on the pillows, her hair sprawling out around her. Sam's touch was cautious. She grabbed his wrist and made his fingers prod at her entrance.

"U-use your ring finger first."

Sam followed her instructions, gently pushing his ring finger inside of her. He heard her gasp and looked up. He pushed his finger in all of the way and she groaned.

"Now c-curl it."

She moaned as he followed her instructions. The noise made Sam freeze for a moment. The second she bucked her hips against his hand he went back to curling his finger inside of her tight cunt. The noises coming out of her had his cock straining against his jeans. He attempted to ignore it as he curled his finger a little faster.

She gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist and he froze. She guided his hand so that his ring finger was now curling while thrusting in and out of her wet cunt. She moaned again, he was a fast learner even if his previous experience was more limited than hers.

"Ah-Add another," She gasped as she felt heat build up in her core. She felt Sam slip his middle finger inside of her. She rocked her hips in time with the thrusting of his fingers. Moans escaped her throat as he worked her open. "Fuck! Just like that."

"D-do you like this?" Sam asked. "I-i mean it sounds like you do but. . . I want to make sure I'm doing. . . this. . .right," He stuttered, not stopping his movements. Her cunt squeezed around his fingers.

"Y-yes!" She moaned. "J-just like that. You're doing such a good job for me," She gasped. She grabbed his other hand and moved it to her clit. He seemed to understand what she wanted and began rubbing sloppy circles on her puffy clit.

Her thighs had a slight tremble as her cunt squeezed his fingers even more. His fingers rubbing her clit sent jolts of pleasure throughout her body. She could feel her orgasm creeping up on her.

"I'm close!" She moaned as she clamped down around his fingers. Her head fell back as her orgasm washed over her. Sam felt her walls tighten around his fingers as her moans increased in volume. He kept thrusting his fingers, riding her through her orgasm as her moans grew more strained. She grabbed his wrist as a signal for him to stop. The overstimulation left her cheeks flushed.

His fingers slipped from her sopping hole, and his eyes flicked to her face, wide with awe. She took his wrist in her hand, guiding it to her mouth, and sucked on his fingers, letting her eyes flutter closed, she swirled her tongue around his fingers. A low moan escaped her throat at the taste of herself. Her eyes fluttered open and she giggled at the sight of Sam. She couldn't help herself. His mouth was hanging down for God's sake.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she pulled him down to her level. Her lips pressed against his. Sam was still frozen in a combination of shock and awe. He thought all of the noises that he had pulled out of her. As they kissed, her tongue invaded his mouth. Sam let out a small, needy whimper as she kissed him.

She sat up, pushing him down onto the bed before straddling his waist. Her hands went to the zipper of his jeans. She looked up at him. Sam's face and chest were flushed, his lips were red and slightly puffy, he already looked so fucked out and she had barely even touched him. She didn't waste any time in unzipping his pants. Sam lifted his hips and helped her get rid of the constricting material.

She teased him over his boxers. A strangled moan escapes Sam's throat as she ran her fingers over his clothed erection. His head dropped down onto the pillows, she gazed at his exposed throat. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the smooth expanse of delicate skin. Sam's breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of her lips.

"P-please. . . Please," Sam practically whimpered.

She let out a soft chuckle. "Please. . . what?" She continued her movements, gently running her fingers over his clothes erection. "I need you to use your words for me, sweetheart."

Sam's hips buck up, desperate for more. "P-please," He moans out. His chest heaves as he fights to keep his breathing even. "I need you to f-fuck me."

She tugged on the waistband of his boxers. Sam quickly lifted his hips so that she could rid him of the pesky material. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and gave it a light squeeze. She admired the pretty pink tip, leaking precum.

She lifted her hips before lining up her entrance with the tip of his cock. She had to admit, he was definitely larger than most guys she'd slept with. She wasn't going to tell Sam that though. She studied his expression with a small smile on her face. Sam watched her every move with his jaw slack, quiet moans leaving his throat.

She sinks down on him and his hands fly to her hips. She places one of her hands on his chest for support. She moans as she slowly sinks down. The stretch is a burn that quickly fades into an ache for more.

"F-fuck," She moaned out, adjusting to his size.

Sam was a beautiful mess beneath her. His hands squeezed her hips, just for something to hold onto. His body quivered ever so slightly. She felt so fucking tight around his cock. She'd barely even started and he could already feel heat forming in his stomach.

He moaned out her name as she rocked her hips. "P-please," He gasped as she lifted her hips up before dropping back down. Every thrust of her hips had him begging for more. The feeling of her tight cunt wrapped around him was almost too much.

He let one hand fall from her hip and slide in-between her legs. As his fumbling fingers found her clit, she let out a small gasp. Her eyes met his. It was the most gorgeous sight Sam had ever seen. Her tits bounced with every thrust of her hips, her lips were parted as she let out another moan, every piece and part of her was perfect.

How had he gotten this lucky? He never would have thought that she ever find out he even existed. Let alone wind up in bed with him. The view in front of him was like something from one of his wildest fantasies.

"Y-you look. . . s-so perfect," Sam half moaned, half whimpered as his fingers rubbed tight circles on her clit. He experimented with the speed. Whenever he hears her breath hitch in her throat he knew that he was doing it right.

She struggled to keep up her current pace with the way that Sam's cock hit that place inside of her cunt that practically made her see stars. Her lower abdomen was on fire. If Sam didn't slow down she might come quicker than she had been expecting.

"F-fuck! Just like that," She cried out.

Sam might not be the most experienced guy ever, but he was definitely a quick learner. The hand that wasn't on her clit went to her chest. He gently massaged one of her breasts. The soft skin felt like heaven beneath his hand. He squeezed her nipple and she moaned even louder. He was carefully watching every reaction she had, making sure that he was doing all of this right.

"Y-you feel so good," He whimpered.

His back arched up from the bed as he felt her walls tighten around him. He could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. His hips bucked up, meeting her thrusts. The action made her cry out.

"I-I'm. . . I'm about to come," Sam whimpered, his chest heaving.

His fingers had found a steady pace on her clit. Every circle of his fingers sent white hot pleasure coursing throughout her body. The way his hands carefully gripped at her chest. He soon moved the hand that had been on her chest, to her hips. He attempted to help guide her thrusts. She seemed to be tiring out.

"M-me too," She replied with a moan. She could feel his cock twitch inside of her. His eyes rolled back as his grip on her hips tightened. It only made her work harder. She was so fucking close. Sam wouldn't be able to last any longer.

He cried out from the overstimulation as her tight walls clenched around his cock, her own orgasm making her thrusts shaky. She felt pleasure overtake her body as Sam kept circling her clit with his no longer ungraceful fingers.

She guided his hand away as she slowly rocked her hips, basking in the subtle feeling of overstimulation. She slowly sat up before she stops. Her legs had a slight quiver as she walked into the bathroom. The loud music of the party was muted through the door. Though, it was obvious that the party was not even close to being finished for the night.

"Do you want to hop on the shower with me?" She asked with a smile. Sam's eyes went wide (for the hundredth time that night) before he climbed off the bed. He was standing at her side in seconds.

"T-that sounds nice."

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A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it!

Tag list: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @aidansloth

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[shanastoryteller]

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!! Draco and wizarding politics please?

When Granger had spoken to him for the first time their school days, it had been to ask him what Potter would need to do to get the conservative vote for his appointment to Head Auror.

What she'd really meant was the Slytherin vote, because two wars hadn't taught anyone anything, apparently. It was exhausting. He's exhausted.

"A Slytherin wife," he'd snarled, because Potter and the Weasley had had a rather public break up last year and because he's exhausted and he didn't understand why she was talking to him, why she thought he'd give enough of a fuck about her to help her or Potter.

Just because he was the only moderate member of the Wizengamot that got anything passed didn't mean he was interested in telling her how he did it. He'd worked for those relationships and spent hours studying every law that had been brought to the floor in the past fifty years and got his barrister's license at least half because if he couldn't argue logically on top of spitefully he might as well not even run at all.

What did Potter do? Put some people in jail and give interviews about rehabilitation that didn't amount to shit because he couldn't get a tax break off the Wizengamot floor the way he went about it, never mind anything else.

He's utterly unprepared to be told he has a guest and find Harry fucking Potter on his doorstep.

Potter hasn't been to the manor since Voldemort was here. Draco's had several events that decorum obligated him to invite Potter to, considering his place in society, and he hadn't even had the decency to RSVP.

"What the hell do you want?" he snaps.

"Um," he shuffles his feet, looking down at his feet like he's eleven years old and useless again and not like he's nearly thirty years old. Draco hopes this is a nightmare. "Hermione says I have to ask you out. Like. On a date."

Draco slams the door in his face.

[thegnomelord]

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

[girlgenius1111]

it was war it wasn't fair

the great war chapter 2 :)

R's teammates debate the potential causes of her breakup. Ona comes to her defense. R realizes her feelings might not be as easy to avoid as she hoped.

ps. not one bed trope, but... teammates-sharing-a-hotel-room-at-an-away-game-and-one-has-a-nightmare-kind-of trope.

brief descriptions of a panic attack.

-----

You were sure that if you could just sleep you'd be fine. You'd never really had problems sleeping before, but in the days since your breakup with Alessia, you'd been struggling. Your brain wouldn't turn off; you went back over every little moment in your relationship, over analyzing, trying to figure out where it went wrong. Where you went wrong.

You honestly wished that was the only thing keeping you up. It wasn't. You couldn't get Ona out of your head. The kindness she'd been showing you, how perceptive she was of your feelings. It was overwhelmingly confusing, to be heartbroken by someone, and completely fixated on someone else at the same time.

Most of the time, you were glad to have such a close team. Everyone looked out for each other, and you knew they'd always have your back. Unfortunately, they seemed to think that having your back in this situation meant hovering over you every second of the day. It didn't help that you wouldn't tell them why you and Alessia had ended things.

Although you knew your teammates were keeping an extra close eye on you, you hadn't realized that some of them had begun to have suspicions about what had gone down. You'd come to a halt outside the locker room, after hearing your name. You'd forgotten your keys, and were heading back inside when you heard Keira's voice floating through the doorway.

"Leah said Alessia's really torn up about it, but she won't tell anyone what happened either."

"I knew they weren't doing well, but both of them seem too upset for it to be a mutual thing," Lucy responded.

"Y/n doesn't look like she's slept in a week," Alexia chimed in. Perfect. This was a group conversation, apparently.

"Maybe one of them cheated. I don't remember seeing y/n leave by herself when we went out last week," Keira mentioned offhandedly.

You knew Keira didn't mean anything by it; anyone looking at your relationship from the outside would guess that between the 2 of you, you'd surely be more likely to cheat than Less. You'd been significantly more of a playgirl before Alessia, and your friends had always joked they'd missed the version of you that went home with a different girl every weekend.

Still, the implication that you'd done what had, in fact, been done to you, really fucking hurt. You were more than prepared to go in there and start yelling, god knows you've been needing someone to shout at, but someone beat you to it.

"If she wanted you guys to know what happened she would have said," Ona's voice rang out through the locker room, unmistakably filled with anger. "You're supposed to be her friends, she's clearly having a tough time, and now you're accusing her of cheating? Behind her back? "

"Ona, I didn't mean anything by it," Keira began, clearly startled by the angry tone with which the brunette spoke.

"Y/n didn't cheat, she'd never do that," Ona replied fiercely. "You're lucky she didn't hear you suggest that, because I'm not sure any of you would have been able to put her back together."

With that, Ona stormed out of the room, turning the corner and coming to a sudden stop at the sight of you. You'd been too baffled by her words to move, and now it was too late.

"Y/n,"

"Thank you, Ona. Really," you said, blinking back tears. Behind Ona, Lucy, Keira, and Alexia walked out of the room, clearly on their way to go after the defender and calm her down. They all looked comically shocked at the sight of you, but you had no interest in talking to them. You spun on your heel, walking briskly out of the building and to your car, ignoring the calls of your name behind you. Ignoring, too, the tears that began to cloud your vision.

-----

Despite arriving home several hours ago, you lay in the same spot on the couch that you'd occupied since walking through the door. Your brain was working a mile a minute, going back and forth between fixating on Ona's passionate defense of you, and being angry at your teammates for speaking about you behind your back. You'd gotten texts from them, you knew, a particularly long apology from Keira, but you'd yet to open them. Ona had texted you too, and you hadn't read that either, for a very different reason.

You weren't mad at Keira for thinking you'd cheated, not really. You just hated that they were trying to figure out what happened; you'd made it clear you didn't want to talk about it, and here they were, dragging it back up over and over again. Logically, you knew it was because you weren't handling it well, and they could tell. Maybe you didn't like them worrying about you, either.

You were about to grab your phone and absolve your teammates of guilt, when there was a knock on your door. You walked to the door, looking through the peephole, and sighing. Of course.

"Hola, Alexia," you said, swinging the door open. Captain Alexia wasn't one to take team conflict lightly.

"Can I come in?" she asked, after returning your greeting. In response, you stepped to the side, allowing her into your apartment. She followed you in, sitting next to you on the couch. She had a familiar glint in her eyes, one that you knew meant she was determined to do something. What, you weren't exactly sure.

"Y/n, I'm really sorry we were talking about you when you weren't there. We're really worried about you, but there's no excuse. We should have brought our concerns to you," Alexia tells you sincerely.

"I know you're worried," you sigh. "And I probably wouldn't have been very receptive to you asking me about how I was doing."

"And what Keira said-"

"I get it. Of the two of us, I seem like the one who would sleep with someone else. I would have thought the same thing too."

"Does that mean Alessia cheated?" Alexia inquired, after a moment of silence. You looked at her, stunned, not quite sure how she came to that conclusion. In response to your expression, she explained.

"You're both apparently really upset, so it's clearly not mutual like you said. I know you didn't cheat. Sleeping around might have been your thing before Alessia, but it's not now, and it would be unfair to assume you hadn't changed. And, the way you phrased that last part. You "would have" thought the same thing too. That makes it sound like you no longer think that way."

You processed this for a minute, reminded of how smart Alexia was. You wanted to be annoyed, because if Alexia knew, it wouldn't be long before the whole team knew. Alexia had a strict policy of sharing everything with her co captains, who, famously, could not keep their mouths shut. You were really just relieved, though, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, now that you didn't have to try so hard to pretend to be okay.

"Yeah. She slept with some girl in a bar."

"I'm sorry, y/n."

"It's fine. We were probably going to break up anyway, and she's having a hard time. I don't even know why I'm upset."

Alexia's face changed at that, looking somewhat stern.

"It's not fine. She still betrayed your trust, even if you were going to break up. Even if she is struggling. That's not an excuse, y/n, and you're allowed to be upset that a relationship you spent a lot of time in ended so horrifically."

You shrugged in response and avoided her eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Her hand came to rest on your shoulder before she spoke again.

"It's okay to be upset, y/n, you don't need to pretend you're not having a hard time with this. None of us will think any less of you." Alexia's tone was gentle, and at her reassurance, you turned to look at her, eyes big and wet with tears.

"Oh, nena," she said, pulling you in for a hug. You went willingly, allowing yourself to be comforted for the first time since the breakup. You cried softly into Alexia's shoulder, your captain's arms wrapped tightly around you. You felt safe here, in this little bubble with the older woman, safe enough to allow yourself to feel the hurt that you'd been pushing down for days.

-----

You'd assumed that after speaking with Alexia, you would feel better, and start sleeping better. You did feel better; it seemed that leaning on your friends during a tough time did, in fact, make getting through it easier. But you weren't sleeping better. If anything, it was getting worse. You'd wake up on the verge of having a panic attack, so filled with anxiety you could barely breathe. You didn't recall any nightmares that prompted this, and it didn't take long for you to calm down, but it made sleeping an ordeal.

The team's next game was an away game in Tenerife. You all had flown out the afternoon before the game, and tried to distract yourself from your exhaustion by goofing around with your teammates. Keira and Lucy had been relieved when you easily accepted their apologies.

Things with Ona were... more complicated. She'd seemed almost embarrassed after her outburst in the locker room, and had taken to avoiding you. Not completely, because you still caught her staring at you during practice, but enough that you found yourself inexplicably missing her presence. Those that had been on the receiving end of the defender's scolding were evidently intrigued by her behavior.

So, when you got your room assignments for the trip and saw Ona's name next to yours on the list, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the clear attempt from Alexia to get you back on non-awkward terms.

You all headed to dinner first, and you couldn't help but watch as Ona barely touched her food, seemingly caught up in her own thoughts. You weren't quite sure if she was preoccupied with you, or something else, but you were determined to find out. She was your friend, after all, and despite your increasingly confusing feelings for her, you wanted to be there for her.

Ona beat you to your room after dinner, and you walked in to find her sitting nervously on the bed nearest to the door, fingers picking at her nails. She began speaking almost the minute the door had shut behind you.

"I just wanted to apologize, y/n, if I overstepped. It wasn't my place to say anything, and-" you cut her off.

"Oni, it's really okay. You don't need to apologize for sticking up for me. What you said was... it was really nice." You were blushing. Why were you blushing?

"Okay, good," Ona replied, smiling in relief. She turned, presumably to finish getting ready for bed.

"Are you doing okay? You've seemed stressed recently, not like yourself," you mention, heading to your luggage to act like your question was more casual than it really was. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ona freeze.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just been a long week." she said. For some reason, you didn't believe her. Something in her voice told you that she was lying, but you didn't want to push.

"Well, if you want to talk," you say, smiling at her reflexively. It was almost unconscious, the way your lips lifted into a grin when you saw her face, freckles scrunching adorably as she returned your smile.

You turned back to your bag, internally shaking your head at yourself. You needed to get it together. You weren't so naive to not understand what was going on, but getting into a relationship with a teammate, so soon after the disastrous end to your previous one, seemed like the world's biggest mistake.

-----

Even though you'd done everything you could think to relax yourself before falling asleep, you still startled slightly only a few hours later, stuck in the land between wakefulness and slumber, your body thrumming with anxiety. It was a bad one, that was really your first conscious thought. You were already short of breathe, but still somehow drowsy, and you fought to drag your eyes open, and go through the familiar routine of grounding yourself.

You didn't realize you were breathing loudly, nor did you hear Ona the first time she said your name. It was only after the first time, when she spoke louder, that you turned your head to look at her in the other bed.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" She asked. You simply shook your head in response, not quite sure you could explain it. You wanted her to go back to sleep, let you pull yourself together on your own like you always did, but you should have known Ona wouldn't do that.

Ona rose from her own bed, approaching the side of yours. You'd sat up, resting your head in your hands as your chest rose and fell erratically.

"Y/n," Ona called softly, hovering nervously next to the bed, like she didn't know what to do.

"I'm ok-okay," you gasped out, admittedly not very convincingly.

"You don't seem okay," she said, doubt clear in her tone. "Do you want me to get someone? Lucy? Ale?" She turned as if to leave.

Suddenly, you were struck with fear at the idea of her leaving. You hadn't realized how much you'd been relying on her presence to calm yourself down until she mentioned leaving. You breathing sped up again, and you reached out frantically, grabbing a fist full of her shirt. She turned back to you, seemingly surprised at your movements. her face was filled with a kindness that was so distinctly Ona, you felt yourself calming down again at the mere sight of it.

"Hey, I won't go, it's okay," she reassured you, taking a careful seat on the edge of your bed. She gripped your hand in hers, tugging it off of her shirt, and you squeezed it gratefully. She sat next to you, allowing you to regulate your breathing, not saying anything, but apparently realizing you just needed to feel her next to you. When you were calm, a few minutes later, you turned to her, prepared both to thank her, and apologize profusely, but she asked a question before you could open your mouth.

"Is this why you haven't been sleeping?" she questioned. Her eyes were peering into yours, and you wished the lights were on, so you could see the warm honey brown staring back at you.

"Yeah. I don't really know what's going on, I just wake up really anxious," you admit, again reminded of Ona's miraculous power to get you to tell her the truth. Ona contemplated for a minute, before she motioned for you to scoot over. You did, although confused, and watched as she slid into the bed next to you. Ona's had her poker face as she laid down, resting her head on your pillow, and motioning you to nestle in next to her.

You were planning to object, really. Instead of opening your mouth, though, your body moved almost without your permission, and you were soon laying next to Ona, head tucked comfortably into her chest. It was such a natural thing, laying against her, like something you'd done a thousand times. You weren't tense, or uncomfortable. You just felt sleepy, suddenly, and enjoyed the feel of the spaniard's soft t-shirt on your cheek, not even questioning it when her arms wrapped around you, holding you securely against her.

Ona didn't say anything, and she didn't need to. You were already drifting off, remarkably calm for someone snuggling one of their friends, who they maybe, possibly, were developing a crush on. You didn't feel butterfly's like you would have expected. Ona never made you feel nervous. Flustered, sure. But as you drifted off into the best sleep you'd had in weeks, you were truly struck with how she comforted you easily, and how she got you to accept that comfort with no argument.

When you woke the next morning, still cuddled close to Ona, you marveled at the fact that you'd slept through the rest of the night. You watched her face as she slept next to you, the morning sunlight hitting her freckles perfectly. You wondered if you could count them all.

You also wondered how much longer you could pretend you weren't falling for the girl next to you.

-----

[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk--

-and come over. p3 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. Lando can't stand Y/N, the first female driver in F1. He also can't stand not having her with her clothes on.

warnings: minors do not interact, cursing, a bit of smau...just generally don't take this one too seriously

The following week marked a u-turn in the media strategy of McLaren and Aston Martin. Another set of meetings, very quick as nobody wanted to open a can of worms or cause even more talk on the topic of Y/N and Lando. They studied the material shot for the F1 - and the consensus was to stop the Lando x Y/N part being released out as it gave off strange vibes. It was a mix of pure lack of chemistry and then a sudden spike of sexual tension and a 180 shift. In all fairness it was a bit uncomfortable to watch for the media teams, who had to analyse people they were in direct daily contact.

No unnecessary contact. No joined interviews. Keeping them as apart as possible. Gone were the days where teams would use the sexual tension as a selling point. Times have changed, this would fly really well in 2010's, but now anything of this sorts for a nightmare for PR. Y/N would be undermined. Lando put in a fuck boy category. It wasn't like anyone saw anything happen. None of the people initiating these meetings had even slightest idea that their worst nightmares were only a light version of the truth. If there was ever an elephant in a room, it was this time. Nobody dared to speak their mind. The whisper challenge video came out without the two. Having it cut and deleted from all hard drives was an order and nobody was to speak of it again.

Social media had been strangely quiet, focusing on race related topics. That was until Lando wore a short sleeve, his healing bite mark seeing the light of day and on display for thousands of eyes. How was one suppose to wear long shirts in hot ass countries they were constantly traveling to? Personally, he thought it was cool and there was even a point where he debated having it tattooed - owning the shit out of and taking the power away from Y/N. Max, his best friend, stopped him. But the thought still lingered back in his mind. It had been a little too long since their last night session. Jerking off was fine, but never good enough. The bite mark caused quite the stir among his fans, but he honestly gave little to no shit about that. He was not going to contact her first though. The last thing he would do is to simp up to her. So when there was a hot model present at one their random club night outs, he did not think twice. It was a little too easy for his liking, but he needed to blow some steam. He could have been discreet, he really could. But why? There was a part of him that was excited to see how this would resonate with Y/N. The violent make out outside the club really was not necessary. Especially when Lando knew that there was a photographer sitting nearby patiently, about to make a living out of a Lando's whim.

When Lando scrolled instagram the next morning, he has a little too proud smile on his face. He would never admit it out loud, not even to himself, that Y/N was on his mind when he fucked the brunette. Mediocre night at best. What worried him a bit was that bad sex was something he almost forgot existed. Of course that Y/N saw it. It was one of the first things that popped up on her phone that morning. It did not bother her. Not even closely. She just had a good energy streak, that was her reply to her trainer when she nearly broke the rowing machine at the gym. She uninstalled instagram later in the afternoon, trying to get the instagram girl's face out of her memory.

There was no way she'd be the one texting him for a late night hook up now. Maybe it was for the better in the end. Focusing on racing only now and even potentially beating him on the track. Night got a little too lonely without the option to have him over, on her and under her. She tried baking, reading, got really into chemistry related youtube videos, yet drinking and working out seemed to be the only thing to really work.

Two long weeks passed until she finally received a text. She ignored that her heart skipped a beat when she saw his name on her phone screen.

"Bro. What are we going to do now?"

She rolled her eyes. What a lame ass opening. No point in playing the waiting game, so she replied immediately. She could care less.

"Aw, got bored and miss some quality fucking?" She second guessed the text right after sending. Was that too desperate? She thew the phone away for few minutes. One late night unnecessary coffee later, she picked it right back up.

"No, you little shit. You not on socials or what?"

A screenshot followed.

There were PR nightmares and there was this kind of disaster. Instagram and Tik Tok got installed back immediately. She watched some cuts and edits from their video, low quality snips that were not giving any full image. Comment after comment, the creativity not being of concern to anyone. All of the same note. Is there more to their obvious dislike of each other? There were only few who were concern by why did most of the leak footage give such a hostile vibe. Lando's eye fucking was more of an attractive topic.

She scrolled for few minutes, watching a new shift on their public image unfold. It was mostly the hardcore fans, not really something the big outlets took interest in at the moment. But there was one theme that followed - people were curious. Panic set over her, mind started racing in all possible scenarios. And then did something for the first time - she dialed Lando's number. He picked up reluctantly.

"How did it get out?" she asked right away.

"Hello to you too. And the fuck would I know."

"Seems like something that would fit into your current portfolio, so yeah, I am asking directly."

Lando smiled proudly. She was jealous. Oh, what he would do to see her face now.

"Hate to disappoint, but I don't have the need for cheap attention." Liar, all he wanted was for her to notice him.

"Ok, assuming nobody from your team or my team did, who got it out?"

"I severely overestimated your ability to focus on the important thing here, apparently."

"So you tell me, Mr. Genius."

"Like I said before you invaded my evening by this panic phone call. What are we going to do? The last thing I'd want is for someone to find out...about us." It felt strange for both of them, to hear him say it like that. Like it wasn't a problem. Every time someone put them together in a sentence, it had been a bad connotation. But not his tone, this one time.

"Well, I don't know, I've only had a minute to process."

"Oh, take your time, of course. Time flies really slowly on social media, so yeah, I'd say you have about a year or so to react."

"Well, we're obviously not going to react anyway."

"I really hope they don't force us to. I'm getting sick of all the media team meddling in. It's their fault in the first place," he said, unamused.

"Yeah, you're right. Good defense, I will use that if they bring it up."

"Don't worry, you'll get my invoice for consulting in your email tomorrow."

"Aw, McLaren not paying enough?"

"I'm sorry, you're still at Aston, correct?"

"Shut it, Norris. So that's it? We'll just not react and let it go?"

"I mean, what else is there to do. Denying anything will only bring up more questions. It's not like people will believe we're friends."

"That, my friend, is true."

"I'm a smart boy, not only a sex god."

"Uhm." Trouble is that he really really was.

"So we'll just let it die out?"

"Yeah. When someone mentions it, we can say that we just don't get along and that's that."

"Great, no lie there."

There were few seconds of quiet tension. Panic was somehow over, but the high adrenaline stayed. It was late evening, their usual prime time. Would they? Should they? Y/N was debating whether she wanted to see Lando again with the vibe he was setting around himself lately putting her off a bit. But then there was the need for territorial claim. Built up energy that wanted to get out. Both of them silently trying to come up with a line good enough for Lando to come over and "dance" with Y/N in a way no friend would. Lando took a breath to speak, but Y/N was quicker.

"So, wanna come over for a work out?" He was over at her place within 25 minutes.

part 4

[missmonsters2]

—Lips Over Your Nightmares

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.

Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.

Count: 2.6k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighttime could be hellish.

It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much. 

You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be. 

But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.

It was a blessing and a curse. 

To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for. 

But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto. 

Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.

But Wednesday Addams saw you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.

"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."

"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."

Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."

"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied. 

"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.

Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"

Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."

"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."

There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems. 

But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing. 

Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.

"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!" 

"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.

Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.

"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."

"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.

"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.

"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."

"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.

Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."

Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.

Wednesday knocked in three successions. 

There was no answer. 

If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.

No, she knew you far too well. 

This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.

Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door. 

The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more. 

There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly. 

"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"

"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly. 

It was new.

You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm. 

"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."

"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.

"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face. 

Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes. 

Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you. 

It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.

"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were. 

And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time. 

You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling. 

Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.

You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want. 

"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily. 

Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would. 

Just as you were her exception, she was yours. 

You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.

"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.

She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.

The resounding click of it made you swallow.

"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.

"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."

Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."

"How did you know—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.

"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything—"

Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."

Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more. 

Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest. 

The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.

"I'm having nightmares about you."

The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic. 

But you were not her. 

Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.

"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."

Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on. 

"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."

"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."

Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought. 

But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come. 

Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path. 

"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions. 

"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.

Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort. 

You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.

Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross. 

Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece. 

Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck. 

Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.

It was deliriously pleasant.

"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.

It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity. 

Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.

Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft. 

Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours. 

How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?

Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."

You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.

Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream? 

Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers. 

It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too. 

"Your nightmares are inane."

You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip. 

"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips. 

"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."

The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.

"But—"

"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."

But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat. 

Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.

Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.

[misseviehyde]

CONFISCATED - Part 1

"AGGGGHHHHHH! I FUCKING HATE YOU, I WISH YOU'D DIE!"

Lawrence winced as the screams of his hysterical teenage daughter rang in his ears and she slammed the door to her bedroom so hard, the house shook and plaster fell down.

Bella was volatile at the best of times, but by confiscating her phone - the most important thing in her life, her Father had really just set her off.

He could hear sobbing and crashing in her room and knew she was trashing it. He knew from experience that Bella would try anything to get her phone back... threatening him, threatening to hurt herself... begging, screaming, pleading, lying... it was kind of sad. She might even try to contact her Mom, but even though he and Beth had separated, they still parented together and it would do little good.

'Since when did teenagers get so addicted to social media?' he thought. He'd noticed his daughters addiction to her phone had been getting worse and then when another parent had contacted him to say Bella was bullying her daughter he had decided to act.

He'd been pretty disappointed to see the mean messages calling the other girl a fat loser. He knew Bella was a popular girl and obsessed with her looks, but he hadn't realised she was so mean. It seemed everyone was afraid of Bella and she liked it.

Lawrence had decided that he needed to get his daughter back on track. She would be moving out soon and he didn't want his legacy to be a spoiled toxic bitch who thought she could treat other people like dirt. Bella seemed to think the only thing that mattered in life was money and status.

"I better go through here and see what else she's been up to..." he mused.

Scrolling through the phone, Lawrence was a little embarrassed to see the clothes and outfits his daughter had bookmarked as things to buy. They were all skimpy and expensive... he wasn't sure he approved. There were also pictures of boys in her phone and he didn't want to think about his horny daughters crushes on other men.

As he scrolled through, his eye was suddenly caught by an app he had never heard of. Brat App.

Opening the app, Lawrence saw it was some sort of social media app. It seemed you scored points for posting selfies and completing tasks and then you could spend those points buying outfits and upgrades.

Bella had obviously been playing it a lot. She had accumulated a lot of points. Perhaps she'd been saving up?

Intrigued Lawrence opened the avatar menu.

CREATE NEW AVATAR?

He clicked the button and a 3D doll appeared. It was female - you could only have a female representation it seemed. The name Loren had been randomly generated. He went with it.

Clicking on the doll, Lawrence saw you could spend points to buy different features. He began to play.

Hair: blonde. Body-type: Princess. Makeup: Pink

Each selection changed the avatar making it more attractive and feminine looking. Lawrence found it strangely addictive. Strangely pleasing to shape and mould the avatar, to watch it getting prettier and prettier.

Make her bitchy. Make her mean.

He wasn't sure where the intrusive thought came from but it felt good. Yes... why not make the avatar look hot and mean. A bully... even worse than his daughter.

Yessss. Make her super popular... make her an IT girl.

He selected the toxic femininity personality trait and pushed the natural leader button. Loren was going to be an Alpha girl.

More... make her meaner. Make her a total nightmare. Make her completely evil.

The intrusive thoughts felt really good and Lawrence saw that there were other options besides physical. He began to play with those. He cranked the popularity slider to maximum. He selected Head Cheerleader. He selected the slider for wealth and pushed it as high as it would go.

Make sure she knows how to fuck. She has to be the best at everything. Make her a fucking dirty slut...

Lawrence didn't feel embarassed as he entered the sexuality tab. It seemed so natural now to adjust Loren and make her nastier.

Sexual Orientation: Likes boys but will make out with girls. Sexually confident - switch. Likes to be fucked by Alpha's, but peg and dominate beta boys.

He noticed he'd nearly spent all of his daughters points. She'd really been saving, but he'd had enough points that he could pretty much max out all of Loren's stats.

The avatar was now of a mean, bullying, rich brat. She was the Head Cheerleader and a completely cruel delinquent who got whatever she wanted. She oozed toxic femininity, was an avatar of lust and desire and clearly had no morals. Loren was the most evil bitch it was possible to be.

COMPLETE AVATAR AND TRANSFORM?

Lawrence stared at the big button flashing at the bottom of the app. What did that mean? His thumb hesitated over it. Something wasn't right here.

Push it loser. Push it and see.

Lawrence felt like something was influencing him. Something external... yet also something within himself. Something hungry and dark and desperate to be free. Something that had seen its chance and was going to take it.

He pushed the button...

Lawrence screamed in pleasure as pink lightning blasted out of the phone and engulfed him. Bones cracked and skin tightened as with a howl of orgasmic pleasure he began to transform.

Long blonde hair cascaded from his scalp and makeup simmered across his features as his drab clothing became hot and sexy. Breasts grew and his dick shrunk away and his ass inflated out.

Loren was becoming a reality.

Pussy lips opened as body hair receded and a hot blonde teenage slut rolled her pretty eyes in ecstasy. Nails shot out, thick makeup covered her face and the new bitch giggled in glee. This felt amazing.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkkk yesssss," she hissed as her transformation completed.

Loren blinked. She looked down at the phone in her hand. What... a.... rush.

She smirked and standing up walked to the mirror to admire her perfect body.

She was eighteen... she was popular and she was horny.

This was going to be a lot of fun...

The end?