#though I was wondering if anyone would be down to beta read it

[asfodelle]

Hello, hello, here's the first scene of the one-shot I've been writing the last few months. It's about a 'He Tian is involved in the mob and returns occasionally tho feelings never leave' situationship neither can walk out of, Mo is a boxer, there's a touch of religious themes, made myself cry writing it, it's a blast.

1. May 5th 7:12 p.m. - Bell

Before leaving the car, He Tian lets out a long sigh, blowing smoke. He should probably get to praying.

The door snaps shut, echoing in the small street he parked in. Past the intersection he hears kids chatting, going home for dinner maybe. He Tian takes a second to watch himself in the reflection of his tinted windows. He readjusts the collar of his shirt, brushes his pants wrinkled from the long hours of driving, throws his hair backwards and the damp air soon gets him to fold his sleeves up. He doesn’t look so bad, he thinks. Tired. He rubs his face with both hands to bring back some color to his cheeks, then under his eyes as if he could dim the blue tint that’s been settling there, but it doesn’t have very conclusive results. He starts walking.

The entrance of the old warehouse is slightly different from the last time he’s seen it. It looks more welcoming, but it might just be a trick of the light. The peach clouds of the spring evening just paint a nicer ambiance than the grey winter sky did, last January. The gates have been adorned by new tags that have been sprayed on top of the old faded ones and there are flyers encouraging people to join the Sunday mass down the street glued all over, though they don’t reach very high. He Tian imagines a troop of old women roaming the streets, spreading the holy word but his little game of guesswork doesn’t help him relax one bit. 

He gets in front of the door, a smaller entrance within the large sealed gate that used to let trucks in and out of the warehouse. He grips the handle for a second, takes a long inhale and gets in. His eyes slowly adjust to the dimmer lighting but he quickly notes that, contrary to its facade, the inside of the place hasn’t changed much since the last time he saw it. Between high walls of concrete and sheets of metal lie mismatched sets of equipment. Barbells, slick black punching bags, discolored benches of various sorts, a couple old bikes in the back, punch mitts forgotten over a pile of cardboards. A few training boxing rings give shape to the room, the space between them gives the illusion of corridors. The walls are covered in overlapping posters, the grey disrupted by layers on layers of paint and graffitis that even cover the high windows. They let small rays of tinted light in like the stained glass of a church, though the candles are replaced by tens of flickering LEDs lights. There are a few people here and there, busy with dumbbells or talking in their little spot but the room is so wide they can’t be heard. Stairs crawl by the walls leading to more rooms and places He Tian had never been to. Music resonates, low and muffled from a speaker somewhere in a corner.

In the middle of the room stands another ring, a bright red one standing higher than the rest, with white thick cords. When He Tian sees him, he’s sat there, on the side of the wooden platform the red ring rests on. He's listening attentively to a trio of teenagers, leaning backwards on his hands. 

Guan Shan had taken a liking to boxing in high school. A good outlet, he said, one that taught him to measure his emotions. It stuck through the years and he’s been great at it. Then he started giving advice to newcomers, to give some of spare time to help young blood he saw himself in and slowly it transformed into actual lessons and training sessions he holds after work. These kids have been coming here for a couple years now, He Tian remembers them. They are reenacting punches and kicks, arguing and giggling over different combinations and they turn to their coach for approval whenever they get a new idea. He nods along and fixes their posture a couple times, something soft in his eyes. He looks beautiful. Toned and pale as ever, the bare skin of his chest clashes with the black shorts and the tattoos that spangle his body. He Tian stands close to the entrance, leaning cross-armed, his shoulder against a pillar and keeps on watching over him though he struggles to truly appreciate the contrast of colors due to the fifth character in the scene.

A guy he doesn’t know is sitting close to Guan Shan, too close. His hair is an ugly shade of bleached blond and he keeps looking at Guan Shan whenever he speaks with big dumb eyes, mouth agape and enamored. He looks young, but maybe He Tian only feels so much older than his age. He looks stupid.

He Tian hasn’t moved but Guan Shan suddenly lifts his head and catches him right away, as if he’d known all along where he was hiding. The way his eyes widen for a second betray his surprise however but he quickly regains control over his face. It seems like he excuses himself from his little group, the blonde argues something, he wants to follow but he’s brushed away by a dismissing hand.

Guan Shan glances back to He Tian’s shadowy corner and starts moving towards the closed rooms in the back of the building, grabbing a few boxes on the way. He Tian traces behind him with a confident walk and ignores how all of his body stiffens with apprehension, every single muscle a little too tight. Guan Shan enters the room first and He Tian follows a few seconds after. He closes the door behind them. The handle creaks and his hands are sweaty.

It’s not quite messy in here, but the little office room is packed. The desk is covered with stacks of papers, cardboard boxes are neatly piled up in the back of the room; some are already opened and uncover the gloves, the tapes and bandages they hold. The window is open too, letting in the noise of the city. Guan Shan sets the boxes he carried over on top of one of the piles and gets to fumbling in his bag, almost turning his back to the door where He Tian stands.

« Hi. » he tries, and braces himself for what’s coming. 

« You know it’s fucking weird creeping in corners like this? »

He Tian pinches his lips in a thin line.

« Why are you here? » Guan Shan asks then, still busying himself in his bag. He doesn’t sound angry, just a little cold, maybe annoyed at the disturbance.

« I’ve got some business to handle in town. »

« I thought you were abroad until September. » Guan Shan muses, finding the shirt he seemed to be looking after, a large black one. He Tian follows his hands and notices he has splatters of white and red paint over his forearms, his short nails are stained too.

« The schedule is never really steady. » 

Guan Shan scoffs. He Tian know that’s a first warning but he can’t help but focus on the way his muscles jolt, on the way they flex as he flips the shirt over. He tries to not lose his eyes on the curve of his biceps. It’s a struggle. 

« I negotiated a little. » He adds « Took over Cheng’s spot. »

Little negotiations that involved a precarious alliance, three weeks of tailing for intel and a couple of threats. It was worth it.

Carefully, He Tian moves away from the door, closer to Guan Shan. He probably shouldn’t, definitely shouldn’t yet he lifts a hand and reaches out to touch his bare back. Guan Shan freezes.

« I wanted to see you. » he explains, voice low as his knuckles trace the bumps of Guan Shan’s spine. It’s daring. It might earn him a hook but the pull is magnetic.

As their routine dictates, they hadn’t parted in very good terms the last time and for that, coming back to him is always a gamble. A game of Russian roulette even and quite a dangerous version of it; one where he never even knew how many bullets were hidden in the cylinder, each of them taking a different shape. At times He Tian had handled days of scowling looks and a soft kiss that had left him bleeding out, he had received sharp words from petty fights without wincing but just the weight of Guan Shan’s rehearsed indifference could pierce his lungs and leave him breathless. He will take the hits, he does not care. It’s a game they’ve played for years now and as long as the other still accepts to pull the trigger on him, he’d take anything. After all, He Tian is the one who bound the gun to his hand in the first place.

A punch never lands this time. Guan Shan sighs, his shoulders drop then he turns around and throws his arms around He Tian’s neck, knocking the air out of him all the same. He Tian holds back tightly, and finally breathes out, his fingertips digging into hot freckled skin.

« I missed you. » He Tian whispers. What a fucking understatement. 

The arms around his neck tighten in response, only for a brief second before they hear loud noise by the door. Their embrace ends as quick as it started, Guan Shan stepping back and turning to put on the shirt he had discarded a second ago. He glares at the door, expecting it to open at any moment but thankfully, the people outside only pass by. 

« I’m training the kids all evening, and there’s a party at eleven, but I don’t think it’ll stay long. » Guan Shan says when the room has quieted down enough. 

« I’ll pick you up then. »

Guan Shan nods. That should be He Tian’s cue to leave, he has a couple things to settle tonight anyway but the other looks as if he’s pondering over something. He Tian catches how amber eyes roam over his face, for a brief moment they even settle on his mouth, but then return to the door. 

« Get lost. » he tells He Tian, tilting his head towards the door but there’s no bite into it.

When He Tian gets back to the car, his cheeks hurt. In the tinted window, his smile might look shy but it’s wider than it’s been in the last four months.

[inazumass]

Animal Attraction - Laios x Beastman!Reader

No beta read this time, but I might add other chapters of this for f/m/ftm reader in the future on AO3 if there's enough interest for it. I try to make my smut as inclusive as possible but sometimes it takes away from the descriptors, y'know? Let me know what you think! https://archiveofourown.org/works/56591389

TAGS/Warnings: NSFW, Smut with Plot, Gender Neutral Reader, No Use of Y/N, Mild Themes of Forced Proximity/One Bed Trope (Kinda), Huddle For Warmth, Penetration, Gender Neutral Anatomy, Second Person Perspective/Freeform, Beastman/Beastkin Reader/Doglike Reader, Comfort, No Pet Names, Enthusiastic Consent, No use of protection don't be like Chilchuck, y'all

Word Count: 11.9k

As always, Minors DNI

Shadows stretched long across the wooden floor of the old bedroom where Laios sat in his bed for the night. This floor was quiet now but if anyone paused to listen they would be able to hear all the creatures off in the distance as they stalked their way through the dungeon. Their various calls and cries echoed off the far away walls of the vast cavern surrounding the ruins. 

It was cool here now, the crisp night air swirling through the alleyways and rustling the curtains. If it weren’t for the view out the window of the ruined structures littering the cave the old town was situated in, it might have been easy for anyone to convince themselves that they were in any regular old inn on the surface. 

There were few usable rooms left in the building now though, and the party had to make do with the last three decent rooms on the third floor. Not that anyone seemed to mind much… hell, most were grateful for a proper bed to sleep on for the first time in days. 

Down the hall Laios could hear the sounds of his party mates getting settled in for the night, their muffled speech unintelligible through the thick stone walls. He had settled into his bed, unfurling his bedroll over the old linen sheets as he stole glances at the newest member of their ragtag group.

He tried hard not to stare, but his gaze kept flickering up to the soft ears perched atop your head.

By now he’d known well enough not to question Izutsumi on her state after much scolding from the others and the sharp sting of her claws whenever she would get fed up with his pestering. Yet you were so vastly different in comparison to the sharper features of the party’s youngest member; your sharper more wolf-like features juxtaposed with the softer body of a human, the perfect fusion of man and beast. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like… he’d always fantasised, albeit not so secretly about what it might be like to have more animalistic features, were you more monster or more human? His thoughts were cut off quickly when your eyes flicked over to him, feeling his eyes on your back. Your ears flicked in mild annoyance, not exactly fond of the intrusive gaze.

“What are you staring at?” You sighed, all too used to the way people would size you up. The questions, the fear, the judgement.

“Your ears look so soft.” The blond smiled sheepishly as the words slipped out of his mouth without much thought. 

The sincerity of his gaze caught you by surprise, unsure how to respond as you stared back at him. You blinked slowly, momentarily thrown off by his unexpected offhand comment. He seemed genuine, his eyes holding a warmth that contrasted sharply with the usual wariness you encountered from other tallmen. After a beat of silence, you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"They're just ears," You replied, your tone light but tinged with a hint of amusement as your ears perked back up, "But thanks, I guess?"

He chuckled softly in return, a sheepish grin still playing on his lips. "Sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say, huh?" Laios asked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked down at his lap.

"It's... different," you admitted, offering him a nonchalant shrug. "But different can be nice.” You said finally, earning another smile from the tallman.

His sheepish grin widened into a relieved smile at your response, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he let out a quiet sigh. "I'm glad you think so," Laios replied, amber eyes still avoiding your gaze. He knew if he looked back up he wouldn’t be able to resist staring a little longer. "I didn't mean to make things awkward."

You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile of your own. "No need to worry about it. It's refreshing, honestly." You replied, sitting back against the old wooden headboard. Perhaps you had been wary of him for no reason, though you hadn’t fully dropped your defences around the group despite your curiosity about the knight. They had all been gracious enough to take you in when you were too injured to carry on alone.

You were certain if they hadn’t wandered by when they did you would have been doomed on your own. Now, you thought, you would be forever indebted to them for their kindness. That being said, you couldn’t help but feel out of place regardless of their continued kindness.

 “I’m sorry... I guess I was just expecting you to say something else.” You admitted. A sigh pushed past your lips as you hugged your knees, uneasy at even the smallest bit of vulnerability you’d shown him with your vague explanation.

Though he wasn’t the best at reading the emotions of others, he could see the way you curled in on yourself as if protecting something, your ears drooping against your head. It reminded him of the strays he would see back home, wounded, exposed…

His voice was gentle as he spoke, his gaze lifting to look you in the eyes as he searched for the right words. “I’ve heard stories of beastmen before… but you and Izutsumi are way cooler than any of them.” Laios affirmed, earning a little snort of laughter from you. “Seriously! Half tallman and half wolf, that’s… incredible!” He exclaimed.

You wanted to disagree, but something about the way his eyes lit up when he spoke had you believing it too. After all, no ordinary tallman could do what you could. Even so, you found yourself shifting in discomfort under his gaze. You had always been acutely aware of the implications of your existence, created from black magic… an abomination, a monster. 

Even now that you’d finally met someone like you, someone who couldn’t shift the way others in similar circumstances could, she was nothing like you. Though you suspected Izutsumi more than tolerated you from the way she would curl up between you and Marcille when she slept... half the time she complained that you reeked of dog smell, that you were noisy, and so on. You were nowhere near as agile as she was. Your form held little to be proud of; sharp teeth and claws, patches of fur scattered across your body. Both on the surface and deep within the dungeons black magic and all of its creations were things to be feared, reviled.

"Most people see me as a monster," you admitted bitterly, looking away from him as you hugged your knees a little tighter.

Laios’ brow furrowed slightly as he watched you retreat back into your shell. A monster? He wasn’t entirely certain what had compelled him to say what he said next, but the words came out regardless. “So what?” He frowned, his tone capturing your attention once more even if it was mostly due to the shock of hearing him speak like that. “Who cares what anyone else thinks?"  

The question was rhetorical and you knew that, yet you opened your mouth to speak anyways. The protests died on your lips before they could form entirely as he cut you off. “Their misconceptions about you aren’t going to change who you are.” The knight said firmly as he looked deep into your eyes, the intimacy of his earnest gaze causing you to look away again. 

Laios’ words echoed in your mind, resonating with a quiet strength that you couldn't ignore. You were silent for a long moment. Something about the way he spoke so confidently on the matter had you suspicious that he’d had to tell himself the same thing once or twice. "You're right," you replied, a newfound resolve coursing through your veins as you felt that unfamiliar spark of understanding for the first time in years. "Who cares what anyone else thinks?" You repeated.

For too long, you’d allowed the judgement and scorn of others to dictate your actions, to shape your perception of yourself. While it would take time to internalise it properly and truly digest the sentiment behind his words of encouragement, you felt a bit more steady for the time being. For now you would forge your own path alongside his party.

"Thank you," you said softly, meeting the knight's gaze with a grateful smile. 

“Of course.” He replied, laying back against his bed roll and looking up at the ceiling. He was torn now, frustration and mild jealousy gnashing their ugly teeth and gnawing at the back of his mind. Jealousy because he’d always dreamt of what it might be like to be a werewolf or something of the sort, frustration because others couldn’t see how amazing you and the other beastmen truly were beyond your respective abilities in the arenas. Questions swirled in his mind and died in his throat, even Laios knew that now wasn’t the time to ask. Beastman status aside, it irked him that you’d been made to feel that way about yourself.

You had laid down on your own bed before stealing another glance at him. Even in the faint glow that illuminated the room you could see the way his brow furrowed as he stared up at the vaulted ceiling, the mild tension in his jaw. 

“You look like you have something else to say.” 

He hesitated, his words caught in his throat… You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him and whatever he seemed to be wrestling with in that moment. Despite the barriers that separated you… you shared a common struggle, not just on this mission but in life as a whole. You understood that now.

Laios hesitated, uncertain of how his thoughts would be received. "I do," he admitted. "But it's... complicated."

“Try me,” you replied, rolling over so you could face him properly.

Laios hesitated again, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling as he weighed the words in his mind. Even in the short few days you’d been with the group he knew you well enough to know that you deserved to hear what he said next.  "It's just... sometimes I can't help but feel a little... envious," he admitted, self-consciousness flooding into his senses as he spoke the words aloud. A part of him expected you to snap at him for saying something like that after he heard the way his words hung in the open air.

You didn't though, instead you just cocked your head slightly, curiosity piqued by his confession. "Envious? Of what?" He couldn't have meant what you thought he did. You were cursed. Even with the enhanced senses, your strength, your speed… the weight of the isolation had always felt heavier.

A faint blush coloured Laios' cheeks as he met your gaze, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Of you, actually," he confessed, his tone laced with a mix of admiration and embarrassment. "I mean, you're so... unique. You’ve got the best of both traits, you’re strong, you’re fast… you’re a skilled strategist, your sense of smell is unparalleled and… I can always tell when you’re happy because your tail wags even when you’re trying to be serious.” He looked back up and away from you once again as he realised he couldn’t stop the words from spilling past his lips, scratching the itch in his brain. 

“I know it’s only reasonable for people to be wary of the unfamiliar, it’s in our nature to want to keep ourselves safe from something that could be perceived as a threat. It’s the one thing we living creatures all have in common. But it’s just frustrating, because…”  Because you’re like me. Laios wanted to stop himself from saying what came out next, but he couldn’t help it. "...because sometimes it feels like no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try, we'll always be seen as outsiders," There was a resigned look on his face now, despite the bitterness of the frustration replacing his usual upbeat tone. "Like we're destined to be misunderstood, judged solely by the circumstances of our existence."

You swallowed hard, looking back up at the ceiling with him as his rant struck something within you. His words stung with that all too familiar ache of rejection. There was another beat of silence that passed between the two of you as the weight of his sentiment settled in.

“I know what you mean,” You replied, voice barely above a whisper. This time it was your turn to snap him out of it. “But you know what? Despite it all, we're still here. And that counts for something, doesn't it?"

He didn’t seem convinced, but you could see the way the tension started to leave his body when he finally rolled over to face you from across the room. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Laios replied, the ghost of a halfhearted smile on his pink lips. 

The two of you looked at each other in silence for a long moment, a silent understanding passing between the two of you in the night. It had been a long time since you’d had the liberty to have a conversation like this. Open, honest, vulnerable under the cover of the night, tucked away somewhere quiet...

“Thank you,” you couldn’t help but say it again, something about the heavy conversation seemed to lighten the invisible load on your shoulders. “I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve had a conversation like this.”

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he gave a slight bob of his head in agreement. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's nice to just... talk."

As the conversation continued to flow between you, the initial tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated, replaced by a growing sense of ease and comfort. Though you both knew that you should have been sleeping, found yourself drawn to his company, his honesty and blunt nature was refreshing. As the evening wore on, bathed in the gentle glow of the flickering candles and soft hum of conversation, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having met the tallman.

You could feel the gentle caress of the breeze as it snuck through the open window, teasing the flames of the candles and sending shadows dancing across the stone walls of the old room. The soft light illuminated the room, creating an intimate atmosphere that seemed to envelop you both in its soothing embrace.

Neither of you were certain when you’d drifted off to sleep, the orange glow of the candles having been extinguished long before you’d woken up again. 

As your eyes fluttered open they struggled momentarily to adjust to the darkness surrounding your bed. With the old shutters closed and the candles extinguished it was near impossible to see at first but as your eyes adjusted your enhanced night vision came in handy. All was silent inside now, the rest of your party mates likely fast asleep… the only sounds were the frenzied rushing of the wind against the building and Laios’ light snores in the bed across from you. Even beneath the cover of your sleeping bag, you could feel the cold seeping into your bones. The tufts of fur that littered your body seemed to stand on end in the darkness, prominent goosebumps prickling across your skin 

Something was off, it was colder now. Too cold. You reached out across the gap between your beds, gently shaking Laios's shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch and you couldn’t help but notice the way he was shivering in his sleep. 

“Laios,” you whispered urgently, “wake up.” 

He stirred, breathing slow and heavy. He let out a soft groan as he blinked his eyes open, mirroring your earlier struggle to adjust to the darkness in the room now as his amber eyes searched for you in the blackness. '”What’s going on?” he murmured.

“It’s freezing… something’s wrong.” You explained, tugging your sleeping bag closer around you as if to further prove your point.

“It’s probably just the dungeon’s terrain shifting again,” he replied calmly, rubbing his eyes while his body settled back into consciousness.

A shiver rippled through his body as the chill settled in. This isn’t good, he thought to himself, trying to calculate the situation at hand through the fog of his lingering sleep. Each of the rooms had shuttered windows, so it was likely that the others were fine as well. Considering the rushing sound of the air currents outside it would be safe to assume that there was a significant risk for frostbite out there if left exposed. Staying inside the abandoned structure was certainly the better alternative… but without some sort of external heat source your muscles would easily become stiff and painful at this temperature before long. 

Laios huffed, his breath just barely visible in the dark. So that was it then. He glanced back over to you then, watching as you struggled to properly cocoon yourself in your sleeping bag to stave off the cold for just a little longer.

“We’ll be alright,” He said tenderly with a reassuring smile.

“I’m freezing, and you’re still shivering.” You groaned, clenching your jaw as you tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

He swallowed hard, weighing his options in his mind once more as he considered what he was about to say before he took a deep breath. “We should probably huddle together for warmth then.” Laios said solemnly. In an attempt to calm his racing heart he continued quickly: “Shivering all night in our sleep won’t help with the fatigue, right now our muscles are expanding and contracting really fast to try and generate warmth to compensate for the-”

“Okay,” you interrupted, too tired to keep up with his fast paced facts. 

As you swung your legs off the side of your bed he hesitated before sliding over to make room for you, watching in mild amusement as you shuffled your way across the gap in your sleeping bag before flopping down next to him in the bed. For once he was at a loss for words, not expecting you to take the opportunity so quickly, though he supposed it made sense. Even though you looked more human than beast, he supposed wolves were pack animals, used to close proximity with other members of their pack. Although- he interrupted himself in his mind, that would be dependent upon the particular species of wolf you’d been - his thoughts were quickly interrupted by the groaning of the old wood frame supporting your bodies as it creaked in protest against the added weight before settling again.

This was better, his warmth next to you helping to warm you ever so slightly, but you could still feel the sting of the cold as you laid next to him in your sleeping bag, struggling to get comfortable. Laios found himself hesitating again, although he couldn’t place exactly why. It wasn’t as if he’d never slept in close proximity to someone else. Hell, on this journey alone he’d spent countless nights sandwiched between other members of his party as they slept. 

You didn’t seem to have a problem with it as you squeezed in next to him, but he could still see the way you shivered as you tried to get settled.

“It would, uh… probably be more effective if we combined our body heat.” He muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat once more as he looked away from you. 

Silence stretched out between you for what felt like forever as he felt the familiar claws of self doubt scraping at the back of his mind. He was thankful when you finally put him out of his misery, shooting him an awkward little smile as you spoke: “Yeah, that makes sense… I’m alright with it if you are.”

He nodded firmly, still avoiding your gaze as he helped you get tucked in beneath his sleeping bag. If you noticed the shift in his energy, you didn’t show it as you cuddled up next to him, pressing your back into his side beneath the covers. Laios tried to remain calm as he laid your now empty sleeping bag overtop of his, adding extra insulation for the both of you. The wind whistled outside, the shutters stirring as cold seeped its way in through the cracks in the wood. You were grateful now for the additional heat, it sounded like the storm outside was picking up. 

The tallman let out a sigh, his breath a cloud of fog as he listened to the intensity of the wind outside. He sat up to tuck the edges of the sleeping bag beneath the two of you, ensuring that the cold couldn’t slither in between the two of you. He glanced over at you then in the dark, your soft features just barely visible in the dim light leaking in from the slits in the shutters. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched your ears twitch against the pillow. You looked so comfortable, cute even. 

He pushed the thought aside as he laid back down beside you, his arm resting on the pillow above your head as he attempted to give you a little bit of space.

“I’m glad we found this place,” He commented, his voice a soft murmur above the sound of the rushing wind outside. Despite the chill, the room was calm in comparison to the storm outside. “We’re lucky we didn’t get caught out in that.”

“Mhm…” You hummed in response, already close to falling asleep as you nuzzled against his arm with a sigh.

Laios’ cheeks turned a deeper shade of red beneath the cover of darkness. He could already feel his heart rate picking up again and something about the way he couldn't take his eyes off you suggested it was due to much more than the cold. Here he could feel the way the soft fur of your ears tickled his arm, your bushy tail laid comfortably across his hips. It took every ounce of willpower in his body not to reach out and stroke the soft fur there, wanting to know exactly how the sleek fluff would feel against the roughened skin of his palms. He watched for a moment as your breathing slowed and evened out, realising it would probably be weird of him to watch you sleep. 

So instead he shut his eyes and tried to will his body to follow suit, to relax his stiffened muscles and calm the steady hammering in his chest. You grumbled softly as he tried to pull his arm away to readjust, gripping his forearm lightly as you pulled it back beneath your head. He winced internally. He was trapped now, he didn’t want to fall asleep on his back but would it be weird if he slept facing you? 

It would probably do a better job of keeping you both warm, sure, but why was it so difficult to just go ahead and roll over? His limbs felt heavy, would it be weird if he put his arm around you? If someone walked in would it cause some kind of misunderstanding? He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with a lecture from Chilchuck on the importance of professionalism in the workplace. 

He lost himself in his thoughts again until he felt another shiver run down across your body. Poor thing, he thought, how were you still cold? He felt like he was burning up but if the cheek pressed against his arm was any indication of your overall body temperature you were still freezing. 

With a sigh he gave in and wrapped his other arm around your waist, maintaining a respectful distance from any of the more intimate areas of your body. 

You relaxed instantly into the touch, pressing back against him and pulling his arms a little closer as you seeked out the warmth. He tried hard not to look at you then, honey coloured eyes searching the ceiling in the darkness once again before he ultimately gave up and tried to close them once again.

It took some time for him to finally settle down enough to start falling asleep again, only to be interrupted by the way your tail started to wag in your sleep. At first he thought it was cute, wondering about what kind of dream you must have been having at that moment. It had to be something good. He’d always wondered what it was his childhood dogs had dreamed about when he caught their tails thumping against the ground where they slept. Briefly, he wondered if it would be rude to ask you in the morning. That was, until you shifted slightly in your sleep and it started to brush against him instead of the bed.

Laios sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth as your appendage brushed against the front of his trousers. He tried to shift his hips away from you only to earn a little groan of protest as he tried to move.

“H-hey, careful where you’re moving that.” He whispered, shakily. 

It was almost shameful how quickly that little motion had him worked up. Having spent so long traversing the dungeon with multiple people in close proximity to monsters… it wasn’t like he had a lot of time to himself. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he tried to squirm away, only for you to grumble and push back against him in your sleep, tail still swishing lightly against his hips. If you didn’t stop soon he might blow a gasket trying to explain the growing bulge pressing into the soft fat of your ass if you woke up, or die of embarrassment, whichever came first.

“C-cut it out.” He hissed, the arm around your waist shifting so he could grip the base of your tail and stop it from rubbing against him further.

The pressure earned a low moan from you in your sleep and he immediately tensed up and froze.

“Ngh… Laios?” You muttered, voice husky with exhaustion as you came to once again.

Shit. His heart leaped in his chest as you began to stir. By now he could hear the rush of his heartbeat hammering away in his chest like the steady beat of a drum. He released his grip on the tail, too embarrassed now to fawn over how soft the fur was there. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m still here” He whispered, his throat dry as he let out another quivering breath. He stayed still then, trying to will you to go back to sleep with his mind so he could turn away and continue to ignore his growing problem in peace.

“What’s wrong?” You mumbled groggily. Even in your half-asleep state, you caught the tremor in his voice. Though you sensed no immediate danger, the wobble in his tone set you on edge. Turning to face him, you inadvertently brushed against him once more.

The moment the soft fur brushed against him again, he couldn't help but twitch as another wave of heat surged through his body. It was all too much, the close proximity and now your warm breaths fanning across his chest, it was too intense. His eyes searched the room in the darkness, avoiding your gaze as he searched for any sort of distraction to calm himself down before you noticed. Sure, it was a natural biological reaction to external stimuli but no amount of logic could spare him the shame that washed over him as he wondered what you might think of him. Your voice ripped him from his spiral once more as you repeated his name. 

Those two syllables had no right to get him as worked up as they did. Your tired voice sending another shiver down his spine as he swallowed nervously. Had his name always sounded that good on your lips?

“Laios?” You repeated, completely oblivious to his predicament until you shifted again and felt the bulge pressing into your thigh.

He winced, bracing himself for whatever it was that might come out of your mouth next. The blond prayed silently to whatever benevolent deity above might listen that you hadn’t noticed anything and he might be able to talk his way out of this somehow and turn away. But it was too late now, the evidence was there for anyone to see- or feel in your case. A soft oh was all you offered to calm his racing mind. Heat rushed into his cheeks as he fumbled for words.

“It’s-” his words broke off as you gently pulled your leg away from him, a soft gasp spilling from his lips as he fought the urge deep within himself to chase the heat in order to satiate the growing need in his abdomen. “I… I’m sorry,” he breathed, pulling away from you and attempting to give you as much space as he could within the confines of your shared sleeping bag after you’d finally let go of him. “I…” He wanted to take the blame but he didn’t know how else to get the explanation out, “you were rubbing against me in your sleep and I tried to get you to stop. I’m so sorry.”

The blush in your cheeks mirrored the knight's as you fought to recall the dream you’d been having prior to getting woken up. You hoped you hadn’t said anything while you dreamt. 

“S-sorry, I must have been dreaming, I didn’t mean to… uh,” you stammered out, looking back at him uneasily.

“It’s okay.” He practically whispered back as he looked away from you. His nerves were set ablaze even further by the intensity of your wide eyed stare. This was pathetic, really, the way those fleeting touches sent his head spinning. The way you’d brushed up against him earlier only served to further ignite the fire inside of him. He closed his eyes then and forced himself to focus on his breathing- anything that would take his mind off of the way you looked at him or the light trail of heat that lingered along his skin from the way you’d touched his body.

“We can pretend this didn’t happen,” you offered, voice trailing off as shame crept into your voice as well. Your ears drooped down against your head in embarrassment, the fur blending in with your hair under what dim lighting the room had to offer.

Even as you tried to push the thought from your mind you couldn’t help but glance down and away from his face at that moment. You didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already seemed to be with the situation… but you couldn’t fight the curiosity, so tempted to steal a glance at the space between his thighs hidden beneath the covers.

He opened his eyes just in time to catch the way you glanced downward, unable to help the way he was drawn back to you despite the awkwardness of the situation. For a moment he wondered if he’d only imagined it and that subtle unconscious flick of your tongue against your lips. Laios practically bit his tongue to stop himself from asking something he might regret later. He wasn’t going to let one little slip-up ruin the trust that the two of you seemed to be building up so far. 

“Yeah… yeah, that’s probably for the best.” He replied with a halfhearted chuckle.

With the space between your bodies now it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the pent up frustration in his body. The cold was now long forgotten as he focussed on the heat radiating off of you in bed next to him as the storm raged on outside.

“We should probably get back to sleep.” You commented, voice barely audible over the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears. You relaxed slightly, trying to get comfortable in the new position you found yourself in.

The sleeping bags shifted slightly and you pulled them up, your hand brushing against him through the layers of fabric. This third accidental touch was almost enough for his resolve to shatter, a strangled whine releasing from his throat before he could stop it. He tried to compose himself, it was better to just ignore it. In the morning it would be like nothing happened and the two of you could just forget about it as it became nothing more than an awkward memory at the edge of awareness. Something you think about as you’re trying to drift off to sleep and your brain starts tormenting you with humiliating memories. 

You swallowed thickly, now trying to calm yourself down in tandem with Laios as goosebumps prickled along your skin for another reason now. Something in you was begging to hear that noise again.

It was better to remain professional about this though, and you both knew that. Even as he wrestled with the urge to grab hold of you and pull you in for a kiss, even though he wanted so badly to know just how you’d taste- fuck. He didn’t want to embarrass himself any more than he already had. So instead of giving in, he bit the inside of his cheek and turned away from you then, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to ignore the ache as his erection pressed into the coarse fabric of his pants with every ragged breath that he took.

Unbeknownst to him you were fighting the exact same demons mere inches away. The air had grown thick between you, almost heavy with the weight of the tension in it. There was a long moment of hesitation before you pressed lightly into his back. Huddling together for warmth now seemed to be a blessing and a curse. 

Your shallow breaths against the nape of his neck were driving him crazy, the warm air ghosting across his skin a stark contrast to the chill in the room around you. It had a cascading effect on his senses. Goosebumps rose against the skin of his broad shoulders beneath his shirt and down his arms. He shifted slightly, biting back another hiss when his clothes rubbed against him. You could feel the tension of the muscles in his back rippling beneath his shirt, his breath coming out in shallow huffs. Your sensitive hearing easily picked up on the way his breathing shook. 

Fuck it, you thought quickly. This was all too much. If it all went south, in the worst case scenario you were almost certain that you could find your way back to the surface yourself somehow or die trying. If the sting of rejection came after what you said next you would find it within yourself to push it down and accept it. Neither of you could stew in this awkward limbo state any longer. 

“I… if you need help getting back to sleep,” you started, your voice tickling against the hair at the nape of his neck when you spoke, “I could uh… help you out…” you offered, voice trailing off at the end as you started to rethink your words. But it was too late now, and the proposition was out in the open.

Laios stilled completely at your words, his body tensing up even further when the offer dangled between you. He wasn’t sure it would be wise to accept, if he even could accept it at first. Part of him wasn’t even sure he’d heard you correctly, were you really offering what his mind wanted to believe that you were?

After a moment of stunned silence, he rolled back around to face you. Even in the dark you could see the pupils of his honeyed eyes were blown wide with lust. 

“Are you sure?” He asked quietly, searching your eyes for any hint of hesitation or reservation.

Your body acted before you were aware of it, lightly pressing closer against him beneath the covers of the sleeping bags but still resisting the urge to touch him intimately before you heard his answer. 

“If you’re comfortable with it,” you replied, tone still hushed beneath the cries of the storm outside, “and if you want me to.”

He hesitated as he weighed his options in his mind. His will was stronger than most, but his resolve in that moment had worn paper thin. As your sweet voice beckoned him he took in the softness of your features, those cute little ears twitching above your head as you waited for his response… How could he resist? 

“...I would like that.” The blond murmured sheepishly, his voice almost catching in his throat as he melted into you where your skin pressed against his.

You let out a breath of relief, your shoulders relaxing then as you slid your hand down between you. He inhaled sharply when your palm pressed itself against the heat in the front of his trousers and you could feel the way he pulsed beneath you in response to the touch. Skilled fingers slid gently along the length of his cock through the fabric as he bit the inside of his cheek. 

Your eyes widened slightly, a light gasp breaking the silence from you as you felt the less than humble girth between his hips. 

His body reacted involuntarily to the touch, leaning into it slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment once more. Everything else had already begun to fade away as he focussed on the warmth of your palm against him, the length straining desperately against the cloth. Fingers rubbed slowly against the outside of the rough fabric before your hand gently squeezed around the tallman’s cock and earned another shuddering breath from him.

Hazy lust filled eyes focussed on the fluffy ears atop your head, too shy to look down at your face as he trembled beneath your touch. His hands balled into fists as you began to massage his shaft, brows knitting together as he fought to hold in a moan. He wanted to touch you so badly, your skin beckoning to him like a siren's song as he leaned into your touch.

The way he pulsed against every little flick and drag of your fingers had your mouth watering in anticipation. Still, you wanted to see him relax, your hand sliding up and down slowly against his length. 

The simple friction of your palm against him shouldn’t have sent him into the tailspin that it did, his hips beginning to shift instinctively against your touch. The slow massage of your grip against him only served to make his body ache even more. Laios finally started to let go, a low moan reverberating out against the night air.

“There we go…” you sighed, lightly squeezing him through his pants once more in appreciation.

As he began to give in fully to the pleasure you were giving him the sounds he made were nothing short of heavenly. Whimpers and whines began to slip out more frequently as you touched him now. His hips rocked against you as the slow strokes of your hands stoked the flames of need within him.

You were acutely aware now more than ever of the close proximity, your lips mere inches apart as you started to fully stroke him through his pants. As much as you wanted to tease him more, it was plain as day on his face that he needed this, and you certainly couldn't say no. Silently, you cursed the fabric that hid his body from view.

He couldn’t help but thrust his hips up against your grasp, letting out another soft whine as a similar thought crossed his mind. He needed more contact, the saccharine sound of your coos coupled with the sensation of your hand rubbing his cock through his pants was only making him more desperate as another whine escaped him.

Slowly, your fingers trailed up the front of his pants, earning a disappointed little huff from your comrade at the loss of your touch. Your breaths trembled as your hand came to rest at the closure on the front of his pants.

Your eyes searched for him in the darkness, looking into his with sincerity as you breathed out a soft “May I?”

“God, yes. ” He whined out.

Even if he wanted to he couldn’t have kept the desperation out of his voice if he tried. It was more than enough to have your hands undoing the fastening on his pants with ease. His hips lifted up off the bed so you could help him shimmy out of the garments just enough. 

His cock sprung free from the restrictive fabric and he let out a contented sigh of relief. It twitched in your hands, earning a soft hum from you as you wrapped your fingers around the base of his shaft.

The sudden release felt like heaven, he couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through his body as you began to stroke him again. That delicious drag of your hand against him, skin finally on skin. Your touch was gentle though, it made him want to press forward even more, his hips bucking up against your grip as a low moan ripped from his throat again. The touch was akin to a jolt of electricity through his system and as he stole another glance down at your pretty face he couldn’t help but admit to himself that perhaps it was more than the friction that had gotten him worked up. 

You lifted your hand and spat gently into it before reaching back down and spreading the warm slick against his length. His breath hitched at the new sensation, his chest heaving slightly with every breath he took. 

You sighed happily as you felt another grateful pulse beneath your grip. Your thumb swiped lightly over the bead of pre-cum that drooled out of the needy pink tip of his cock while you began to pump him slowly. Hot breath fanned against his neck, your gaze flickering back up to his handsome face. If Laios noticed the way your eyes glanced down to his parted lips, he didn't show it. He was too engrossed in the almost torturous pace you’d set for him. 

Every instinct within him screamed for you to pick up the pace, to hurry up and relieve the tension building up in his body as your grip tightened around his shaft. He let out a groan, knowing that in actuality he wouldn’t dare try and rush you, wanting to hang on to the intoxicating feeling of this intimate moment for as long as he possibly could.

“Can I kiss you?” He whimpered out, looking down at you with a pitiful expression on his flushed face.

He’d hardly had to finish his sentence before your lips were on his, eagerly swallowing his moans while you jerked him off under the covers. The noise you made was somewhere between a moan and a growl, your sharp canines grazing against his lips while your free hand moved up to grip the mess of short blonde hair at the nape of his neck.

Your kiss was returned eagerly, his eyes fluttering shut as he basked in the perfect taste of your lips. The low hum of Laios’ moans vibrated up from deep within his chest while his hips bucked lazily with every pump of your fist against him. When you finally broke apart he was panting and whining as he thrusted up into your hand.

“You’re so handsome like this,” you purred, pressing kisses against his jaw before he needily pulled you back into him for another hungry kiss.

One of his strong hands tangled its fingers in the locks of your messy hair, the tips of his digits gently putting pressure on your scalp as he kissed you with newfound passion. His cheeks burned at your compliment, unable to keep from giving in. He would proudly drink up every ounce of pleasure you were offering him. You returned the kiss full force, every flick of your wrist dragging more of those beautiful sounds from his lips.

Laios had always found himself weak in the knees whenever you’d compliment him, but he’d done his best to ignore it for the sake of the mission. Your kind words had such an effect on him but right now your praise felt like so much more. Something about the way you pressed into him, your fingers grasping at his hair, soft lips on his, it made him want nothing more than to hear what sort of sounds you might make beneath him instead.

As if on cue, his fingers grazed lightly against the base of your ears, earning a whimper against his lips as you kissed. The soft fur was just as incredible beneath his fingertips as he imagined. He'd wanted to feel those cute little wolf ears from the moment he'd laid eyes on them and now was the perfect opportunity. It was his turn to make you weak in the knees, the comfortable intimacy of the touch had every thought melting out of your mind.

At your moans he couldn’t help but thrust a little harder into your fist. But you slowed down, the slick strokes of your palm all but stopping as your fist tightened around the base of his shaft.

Selfishly, you wanted to drag this out for as long as you could, to milk this moment for everything that it was worth while moans tangled together between you two. His tongue dipped past your soft lips, sinking into your mouth and running along yours as he continued to play with your ears.

You found yourself pressing your thighs together, hips shifting as arousal pooled within you, a futile attempt to get some sort of friction against where you needed it most. The taste of his lips against yours was almost enough on its own to have your eyes rolling back into your head. But the way his fingers teased and tugged at your sensitive ears had your mind swirling with lust as your thumb swept across the crown of his cock once more, smearing precum and saliva against the heated skin.

He groaned again at your teasing, breaking the kiss with a pant as he rutted up into your fist. His head was spinning from the way you touched him, all five of his senses on fire. The way your hand squeezed around his cock, your soft lips on his, those cute expressions when he played with your ears, after having gone so long without a moment to relieve himself it was almost too much and not enough all at the same time. He could feel the soft triangles of nerves and fur twitching and tensing beneath his hand, your whimpers against his mouth were already getting desperate.He needed more of you, more of those sweet sounds you were giving him.

“Please,” you begged, the word leaving your lips like a prayer before you’d realised what you were even saying. The storm didn’t matter anymore, the only pressing issue was the burning desire that threatened to consume you both in an instant. Your grip stiffened around him then as he fucked your hand lazily.

He couldn’t help the lusty moan that drawled out of him when you tightened up. Laios could only hope that the cover of darkness hid how shameless he looked then, adorned by your touch. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus with what you were doing to him. He could hardly keep his composure as your name left his mouth in another desperate whine. The pleasure zipped its way up his spine as his head fell back against the pillows again, eyes fluttering shut.

A strong hand wrapped around your waist, practically pulling you on top of him. His mouth hung open, lips parted to let out the needy sighs and whines that spilled out as his brows knit together.

He looked like the most delectably sinful work of art you’d ever laid eyes on, every marble statue and delicate oil painting paling in comparison. It was difficult not to feel giddy at the fact that you were the only one who got to see such a beautiful sight.

You couldn’t help yourself but to lean down and press kisses along the exposed skin of his neck, canines lightly brushing against the sensitive spots on his neck while you lightly nipped and sucked at his pale flesh.

He could hardly keep his composure, more desperate whimpers leaving his mouth as he was consumed by desire. His heart pounded in his chest like the beat of a drum when you finally straddled him, soft thighs splayed open across his as you worked his cock.

His hand gripped your hips with a newfound possessiveness. The warmth of your body pressed against him had him completely drunk on lust and the throbbing between his legs that you’d been skillfully building up with every little flick of your wrist was becoming unbearable.

Laios couldn’t stop himself from rutting up against you, his cock rubbing up against your crotch as he held you down against his body. A shudder wracked through him when he felt the tip rub against your heat through the layers of fabric that separated you two. 

He let out a soft curse at the feeling, your warmth only teasing him more as you let out a little cry of pleasure. Your hips jolted forwards against him involuntarily, searching for a little more pressure when he bumped against you. 

“Ah…” You sighed, your grip on his length slipping when he shuddered beneath you.

The little mewls you were already starting to let out as you ground against him were more compelling than any siren’s call. His hips jutted forward again as he started to thrust against you in time with the tantalising roll of your hips. The way your body moved on top of him was hypnotising. If there was a heaven, this is what it must have felt like. He needed to get his hands on your skin, to make you feel even half the pleasure you were giving him. His breathing was growing haggard as he fought the urge to rip your shorts in half just so he could have you right then and there. 

“Hah, please, ” he panted, “please, can I touch you?” The way his golden eyes stared up at you, wide and pleading, would have been enough on its own to have your heart racing.

Your eyes were half lidded as you looked down at him, your tail swishing lightly across his thighs in anticipation. Pride swelled in your chest at the mess you’d reduced him to in just a few short minutes, though you were no better.

“Please.” You echoed, proving your desire with another needy roll of your hips against his length.

Your gorgeous form settled prettily in his lap, eagerly awaiting his next move. Gods above, he would do anything for you. 

The tallman’s breath hitched in his throat at your plea, his mouth drying up when he looked up into your eyes. His hands trembled lightly against your thighs as he moved to hook his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. 

“Are you sure?” He stammered out.

Once this line was crossed it could never be uncrossed, there would be no going back. Hell, he didn’t think he wanted to. If he could lay with you every night for the rest of his life he’d die satisfied. Thankfully for him, your reassurance was all he needed to let loose.

“I need you.” You breathed.

The intoxicating drag of his length against your clothed warmth had you both tensing up with the desire for more. You craved him like you’d never craved another’s touch before, the burning ache within you would be satisfied with nothing more than being filled by his girth. 

Simultaneously, at your needy whines he found himself on the verge of losing control, his hips grinding up against you with a little more force before he finally pulled the garments off of you. His knuckles white as he clenched the fabrics in his hand and discarded them beside himself on the bed. The pressure, the lust, all of it was too much.

His strong hands grasped your hips again for a moment as he stared at you in awe, the soft tufts of fur on your body perfectly framing your heat. If it had been any other time and place he’d have had you on your back beneath him in seconds, diving his face between your thighs just to get a taste of what you had to offer. The slick glint of your own arousal shone slightly in the dim lighting, he’d have to wait for another time if he got the chance. Right now he needed this.

One hand slid between your thighs to stroke you gently, his gaze laser focussed on the way you twitched and trembled beneath his touch. The sweet sound of your moans filled his ears and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted you up again, aligning his cock with your entrance before slipping inside. Laios didn’t want to waste a second longer without your skin against his.

The head of his cock split you open with ease and had you whimpering at the sting of the stretch while you sunk down on him. Thighs tensed as you sucked his tip inside of you, sending his eyes rolling back into his head.

You groaned, “sh-shit… ah.. S’too big..” You whined.

Despite your protest, he watched as you circled your hips above him, wanting more of that painful pleasure as you bounced slightly in his lap. Silently, you begged your body to get used to the feeling, but on the other hand you didn’t think you ever could… hell, maybe you didn’t want to. The burn of his size was delicious in its own way.

“Mmm-ngh!” He grunted, the tips of his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs. His nails threatened to bite into the skin there as he tried hard not to buck his hips up into you. As much as his body craved the feeling of bottoming out inside you he refused to cause you any further discomfort. 

“Fu-huhhck.. It’ll… it’ll get easier, I promise.” Laios cooed, reaching a hand down to stroke you again to ease the pain.

Your head lolled back against your shoulder as you tried to take him deeper, the ridge of his cockhead sinking in past the first ring of muscle when you began to relax for him. The whimpers and groans already leaving your mouth had goosebumps rising against his pale flesh again as his own whines trembled past his lips. His dick pulsed inside of you, sending more fluid leaking out against where you were connected.

“Oh my god,” You groaned, feeling his precum mixing with yours and dripping down the inside of your thighs. 

His breaths were ragged as he tried to maintain his composure for your sake, but all was lost as soon as you commented on the way he twitched inside of you. With a grunt, he let his hips surge forward the slightest bit, sinking deeper inside. The knowledge that his cock was leaking inside of you, that you could feel every twitch and every pulse of his veins in your heat, it stirred something primal within him. His fingers tensed against you while he fought the urge to rut up into you like an animal.

Suddenly, your hand joined his in stroking yourself, fingers teasing the engorged area of your arousal. His eyes were glued to you then, watching the way you struggled to take him. Your hips rolled up and down against the first few inches, trying to take just a little bit more.

“That’s right..” he panted, watching with half lidded eyes as you touched yourself above him. His voice was a low purr against your eardrums, his thumb rubbing little comforting circles into your hip as he drank in the beautiful sight before him. “You can take it… you’re already doing so well, just a little more, yeah?”

You nodded, cheeks burning at the praise as another inch sunk inside.

Laios' eyes darkened with a fierce hunger as he watched you work your fingers against your slick heat. The wet, rhythmic sounds of your shallow thrusting blended with the heavy symphony of breathless moans and urgent whimpers filling the room. The old wooden bedframe groaned beneath your intertwined bodies, each creak adding a raw, primal beat to the music of your desire.

It was all music to his ears. His pupils were blown wide, gaze locked on where you straddled him, lost in the sight of you. The scorching, tight sensation of your walls squeezing around him erased all coherent thought, leaving only a primal urge to fill you completely. 

Barely three inches deep inside you, he was on the edge of sanity, teetering on the brink of losing control with every subtle shift and grind of your hips. Each tiny movement had him mesmerised, but when you whimpered his name with a desperate cry, he gasped, watching you sink further down on his cock. Every little movement you made had his gaze transfixed on you.

Your hands clenched into tight fists against the coarse fabric at the hem of his shirt, the material now messily bunched up around his waist. The friction of the cloth against your skin only heightened the intensity, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through both of you.

His abdomen tensed and flexed beneath your hands as he held himself back. He gasped and shuddered, your body taking him so well as you practically sucked him in. Jaw clenched tight, he let out a soft groan of your name. For a brief moment his eyes squeezed shut, his needy whines only serving to further your attempts to take him all the way. The cold air of the room stung his skin where it touched him, heightening the sensation of your warm body pressed against his.

You were a whining mess already, the mixture of pain and pleasure going straight to your groin when you finally took him all the way down to the hilt. The slight curve of his dick had the head pressing firmly against the spot inside you that made your knees weak. He was finally sheathed inside you, pulsing and twitching like a live wire. Ironically, he was the one who wanted to start pounding into you like a dog in heat. His eyes rolled back again as he let out a guttural moan, the sound rippling up from somewhere deep in his chest. Laios wanted to stay composed, to keep himself in check… but the excitement coursing through his body had rendered him helpless against his own desires as he began to bounce you up and down in his lap. 

The way he said your name echoed inside your head, somewhere between a plea for more and a low groan that rolled off the tip of his tongue. Your hands shook against the fabric of his shirt, your back arching overtop of him as you tried to catch your breath, a blessing he wouldn’t allow you as he bucked into you.

“Oh my god,” his voice was breathless. “Fff… ah- ‘m sorry,” He whined, the friction sending a ripple of ecstasy down his spine. 

His grip tightened on your hips, holding you tightly against his pelvis. That brief moment of weakness had earned a wanton cry of pleasure from your lips. He let another shaking breath out, trying to compose himself, he was reminded of the way your face contorted when he pushed inside. His eyes shut again as he took a deep breath.

Once the initial shock wore off for you it was heavenly. The sound of his ragged pants and whines egging you on as you started to move against him, fighting the urge to melt into his body at the pleasure. Your legs were quivering now as he thrusted up against you again, trying with all your might to keep enough of a level head to move back down against him.

One of his hands reached down to massage your thigh as he cooed soft praises up at you. When you’d started to move all bets were off, his hips thrusting up eagerly to meet your movements while his other hand held your hips possessively. The slow rhythm you’d set was perfect, but he needed more . 

“‘S’okay, right?” he huffed out, looking up at you with what could only be described as adoration. He wanted you to enjoy this just as much as he did.

All you could manage was a hurried nod and a whimper.

“That’s it… yeah,” He groaned, watching as you held onto him for dear life. 

Your features contorted in ecstasy as he began to roll up against you, his shallow thrusts helping to establish that slow rhythm between you for the time being.

That smooth voice had you clenching around him, body shivering. The wind rushed by outside and fell on deaf ears, the only thing that mattered to either of you right then was this perfect moment. Your body spread open on his dick while he fucked you gently. 

“So good,” he babbled, mostly to himself as his head fell back against the pillows. “Oh my god,” Laios groaned, his words punctuated by the slow, steady roll of his hips up against you as he ground his cock against that sensitive spot inside you. 

Another cry of pleasure left your throat, the sound hanging in the open air between you as you began to slide yourself up and down along his length. His words had you dizzy, already drunk on his touch as your legs shook on either side of him. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to maintain a steady rhythm, but the continuous drag against your sweet spot had your eyes glazing over and he wasn’t about to stop any time soon. When another cry of his name left your lips he groaned again. The sound was smooth and hoarse all at the same time, his hands tensing on your hips.

Your body was practically milking him already while you rode him. In a perfect world he could go on like this all night, just laying back and letting you take control… but he could see the fatigue in your movements. Your eyebrows knit together, hands shaking against his abs. Any semblance of modesty or bashfulness had left him as the hands that had rested on your hips slipped below you to grip the fat of your ass with a grunt. 

In an instant your back was flush against the bed, hips pinned down by his capable hands. 

Laios aligned himself with your entrance once more, pushing himself in all the way to the hilt in one fluid motion as he kissed your cheeks to soothe the ache of the stretch. A hand pressed against his cheek, golden eyes looking lovingly into your own as he smiled down at you.

“I can take it from here, okay?” His voice was soft right before he pressed another kiss against your forehead. He had you pinned beneath him as he littered kisses across your heated skin. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back like this, not for long anyway.

“Ngh… o-off,” you whimpered, your fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt. If he was going to fuck you like this you wanted to see it all, every tense and flex of his thick muscles above you until the image was locked in your brain. “I wanna see you.” 

There was a moment of hesitation at your plea, Laios taking in the gentle tone and the way your ears laid flat against the top of your head as you begged so cutely underneath him. He’d never felt so wanted in his life, and the way you clung to him had him half convinced this might have been some sort of dream. Nonetheless he’d shed his shirt in an instant immediately afterwards, his sturdy frame on full display for you now as he sat back up between your thighs.

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest as you watched him pull his shirt off over his head. Your eyes greedily drank in the sight before you, the way his bare chest heaved with every shaking breath, his abdominal muscles tensing beneath his skin as he rocked back into you. He couldn’t help the smile on his lips when he caught you staring.

His lips were on yours then, capturing them in another hungry kiss as he began to thrust into you with long, slow strokes. Your legs squeezed against his hips, tongues tangling together in an intricate dance to the beat of a song only the two of you could hear. 

Soft fingers pressed into the firm flesh spanning his broad shoulders as you whined into the kiss.

Laios practically growled then, something snapping inside of him when he felt the way your tail flicked against the side of his leg in approval. His head buried itself in the crook of your neck as he began to pick up the pace, grinding himself down against your tight heat.

Creaks and moans filled the room now, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin coming in to join the chorus. Your arousal and pre-cum dripped between the two of you, the viscous translucent fluids stretching between your bodies and connecting the two of you in strings every time he began to pull back. The room was heavy with the scent of sex, all initial reservations forgotten as he slammed into you.

“Ah!” You gasped, claws biting into the skin of his back accidentally when he rammed into the spot that had your vision blurring again.

“Fuck!” He growled again, his teeth scraping against your shoulder in retaliation. “You’re so fucking hot… taking me so well.” 

You practically squealed beneath him, body clenching around his cock with a grip that threatened to make him cum on the spot. The headboard banged against the wall with the force of his thrusts, his grip on you tightening possessively. All you could do was gasp and whimper beneath him as you tried to keep yourself coherent.

The way he fucked you was animalistic, his hips grinding down against you just enough to rub at your arousal trapped between your bodies. Sweat began to bead on his brow as he lost control, those primal urges within him flooding to the surface as he rutted into you.

Your body tensed and shook under him as he used his grip on your hips to deepen his thrusts. His usual soft amber eyes looked more golden, more wolf like than your own as he looked down at you.

Laios grunted as he rolled forwards against you again and sent your claws dragging against his back. You clung to him desperately, this carnal need worse than any heat you’d ever gone through. He had you panting and gasping with the force of his relentless thrusts, the bed creaking and slamming against the wall as you both lost control.

“Fuck, fuck, please! D-don’t stop” you sobbed out.

He didn’t think it was possible for your body to grip him any tighter but every time he pulled out it felt like you were sucking him back in.

He growled in response, his hand reaching down to stroke you in time with his relentless thrusts as he felt the tension starting to build in his abdomen. Your cute little squeaks and whines went straight to his cock. He couldn’t form a proper sentence if he tried.

You were babbling now, begging for more as you started to come undone around him. The perfect arch of your back off the bed pressed you even tighter against his body and he took it upon himself to hold you there as he fucked you through your orgasm.

It had you seeing white, a sob of pleasure wracked your body. Thighs clenched around his hips, your moans shaking. The blond watched as you came, your head lolling back against your shoulders in post orgasmic bliss. He savoured the way your body tightened around him.

His fingernails dug into your hips as he pistoned into you. “C-close…” He grunted into your neck.

In your bliss, you begged him to finish inside. The debauched whimpers setting his nerves on edge and his pulse skyrocketing. Your pleas filling his head as he ground against your already overstimulated heat. Your cum dribbled down against his skin as he pinned you back down, growling into your neck as he reached his peak with a loud curse. The sound was muffled by your soft flesh against his lips and teeth as he shuddered above you. His hips jutted forward and slammed you against the bed as you milked him for everything he was worth, his cock twitching and sputtering inside you.

“Ngh! Fuck…” He whined. His hands rubbed lightly against your sides, lightly squeezing your ass one more time as he stayed inside.

“Hah,” you chuckled tiredly, lightly stroking along the marks you’d left on his back. “I knew you were pent up but I didn’t realise you were that pent up,” you teased, turning your head to the side so you could kiss his jaw.

“‘S not my fault,” He whined, nuzzling further into your neck. After all, how could it be his fault alone when you had him so wound up he could barely think straight? 

This earned a little giggle from you as he rolled off of you, coming to rest at your side in the bed. The wind had calmed outside, the musty scent of the old room long replaced with the stench of arousal and sweat. A part of him couldn’t believe what you’d just done, and in a dungeon no less…

The sight of you blissed out next to him was enough to make him forget his lamentations entirely. Your soft ears tickled his jaw as you nuzzled closer, arms clinging to him as fatigue took over again. He reached down and pulled the sleeping bags back up over you, not wanting to risk the cold creeping back in again.

“You’re so cute like this,” He smiled, the fingers of his free hand gently running up through your hair to stroke your ears lightly.

“Ngh… n-no, shut up,” You whined.

It was a weak line and it was obvious you didn’t mean it. Even Laios could have told you that from your tone alone, but the way your tail wagged against your side of the bed had him beaming. 

“Hey, I mean it,” He murmured, his hands tracing lightly against your skin and the soft patches of fur on it.

You kept hiding your face regardless, embarrassed by the compliment. Your lips pressed gently against his shoulders, peppering kisses there in a silent apology for the claw marks as exhaustion crept into your bones. 

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered, leaning down and to plant a soft kiss against the dewy skin of your forehead. He took it one step further and reached over to lightly stroke your tail. His golden eyes were half lidded now and filled with all the adoration in the world as he looked down at you. 

“We should get back to sleep,” you sighed, melting into the way he stroked your hair. 

Even just mere hours ago he couldn’t imagine having you this at ease and relaxed in his arms. He gently adjusted himself so he was curled around you too, your limbs tangled together as you drifted off to sleep.

[walpu]

hey, hey, I don't know how many times I've read your post "pre-relationship" especially aventurine part (omg i love how you write abt him 😭). I wonder how it will be once they are in a relationship and the kissing part please :3 thank u and have a nice day!

THANK YOUUUUU

Hope you'll enjoy this post too💛💛💛

being in a relationship with Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (do I even write something other that hurt/comfort for him lmao), no beta

can be seen as a part 2 of this post but it can stan on it's own as well

Aventurine

It would take quite some time for Aventurine to move from the pre-relationship stage with you. Will dance around the subject, throwing hints and flirty remarks but as for making an actual move? Oof.

Would cling to your side and shamelessly say something like "aww, can't get enough of me? people may think we're dating <З unless that's what you want them to think haha"

Pathetic. /affectionally.

But seriously, he really wants to be sure that you like him before making a move. That you like him, not his money, not the idea of him. At least that's what he tells himself. And while this is part of the reason, the actual thing is that he's simply... confused. He's already more vulnerable around you than he ever was around anyone else. And dating means being even more vulnerable.

While he yearns for this genuine connection he's also a scared of it. Tim Kreider wrote the line "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" about him actually.

It would take some time for him to get used to being in relationship. In the previous post I've mentioned that he, most likely, had some short flings in the past. I seriously doubt that he ever had any serious relationship before you though. It's so new to him. At first it would seem like nothing has changed between the two of you at all. Surprisingly, it looks like he even became a bit more distant.

Aventurine doesn't want to attract any unwanted attention to your relationship since it will only endanger you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm himself. Plus he is scared shitless.

He can't help but feel that he looses everything he holds dear. After all, it's been like that for all of his life. And he simply can't loose you.

Mini spoiler for his leaked character story, but there is a moment there when he looks at the aventurine stone Diamond gave him and he realizes that despite the fact that he worked so hard for it, now that he has it, it holds no real value since it doesn't fill the emptiness inside of him. Logically, he knows that this won't happen with you. He loves you too much. But there's this subconscious fear inside of him that he's just so messed up inside that he simply would not be able to love you like you deserve.

Be patient with him, this mans doesn't know what he's doing. Don't give up on him and he'll crawl to your side, holding onto you for dear life.

Once he will calm down a bit, he'll make it up for all those times when you were the one reaching out to him. Texts you, calls you, arranges spontaneous dates.

In the beginning of relationship would spoil you with expensive gifts. He knows what it's like to have nothing so he doesn't want you to ever feel this way. And the best way to prevent it? To make sure that you will have anything and everything. Maybe it's a subconscious way to bribe you. Maybe. Not like he realizes it himself.

Once he'll feel more stable and more confident, his gift giving tendencies will get less overwhelming. He still like giving you gifts but now he picks and chooses. His sugar darling deserves only the best, after all.

Acts all clingy, playful and unserious but actually listens to your every word and is ready to fulfil your every need.

Is actually very caring. Shows his care by pestering you and easing you tho.

If you feel down, will sit stay by your side. May randomly start tickling you, if you're ticklish. If not, will find another way to touch you in a playful and somewhat annoying way. After you cheer up a bit, Aven will put his chin on your shoulder and hugs your waist, softly asking what happen and why is his dearest darling seems sad.

As for kisses. Aven will loooove covering your face with butterfly kisses. And not only your face. Will randomly grab your hand and kiss your knuckles and fingertips. If you've made a mistake of exposing your shoulder then be ready for it to be kissed endlessly.

Adores kissing those parts of your body that are usually covered with clothes. It feels fore intimate for him.

And if you have freckles or/and beauty marks. Oh well. Will trace them with his fingertips, connecting them with some invisible lines and sometimes gasp playfully, saying that he found his constellation. Just a silly little guy being a silly little guy.

So touch-starved it's unreal.

Has very mixed feeling about his tattoo being kissed. Would feel... weirs if you would kiss it during your casual cuddling session. He exposes it for the world to see, yes. But still, when it attracts attention of someone who knows the meaning behind it... Makes him a bit tense, it catches him off-guard. However, if you kiss it after a lovemaking session or when he shares some painful memories with you, he will feel reassured.

Will slowly start crawling out of his shell when he's with you. Before he only shared some brief memories of his past with you, now he'll start slowly opening up about other, much more painful stuff.

It still happens randomly and out of the blue. He remembers something, he tenses up. But now, instead of repressing this feelings, he shares them with you.

Don't push him too talk, he'll slowly open up on his own.

Loves waking up next to you. Especially if you're still asleep. Seeing the sun shining on your face fills him with love and tenderness. Only with you by his side he feels truly safe.

[erosiism]

SACRED | YANDERE PRIEST X M!READER

prompt: yandere!priest x transmigrated!male!reader

character(s): priest (anton), you

warnings(s): mention of violence, god complex, religious imagery, dub-con, not to be glorified or romanticised

note(s): male reader, second person, past and present tense, not beta read. from twisted faith on my wattpad.

It takes a few moments for you to truly process what just happened. From the coarse sheets underneath your skin that differ greatly from the silken ones you have grown so accustomed to, to the air that smells like blood, you know something is terribly wrong.

Then you see a mural of a priest on the wall, and you remember where you are. A horror game.

Anton. It’s the name of the priest you need to find.

The first time you see the priest is the day after you transmigrate into a horror game. The said game, Spiraling into the Abyss features almost a cult like fanaticism with religion: you learn in the first few seconds of your time in the new world that they worship a priest like a God, and that they sacrifice humans to please the apparent gods of the heavens.

You’re a sacrifice. You know that. You are found to be guilty of some stupid crime you didn’t commit, and as far as you know, you are a worthless extra who will die by burning—you will do everything to prevent that.

To survive, you need to get into his good graces. You see him on the day or worship, when you come early to the Church: and his beauty astounds you. Symmetrical features—and the whole blue eyes and golden hair combination that is seen as rather cliche, in terms of beauty—but Anton doesn’t have a common kind of beauty; he is radiant. Benevolent. Ethereal. You marvel at him. His skin is without a blemish, and is fair, like he hasn’t gone out in the sun for a while...yet it has a healthy glow to it. His expression is serene. Anton's hair frames his face perfectly, and his eyes are expressive and rather captivating, with long, dark lashes that draw attention to it. His cheekbones are well-defined, his nose straight—and those only add to Anton's appeal.

He speaks to you in lilted tones, and immediately, you realize the priest isn’t just evil—he’s downright a menace.

"Sometimes I forget you are a new, naive believer. God is perfect, is he not? So his messengers, in turn, can do no wrong. He sends his messages through me. God is part of me. I'm merely ridding the world of evil."  He strides to where you are, and his hands touch the top of your head lightly. His fingers fall to your cheek, and he strokes it gently.

You can only swallow. “Yes, Father Anton.”

There’s one day where you ask him why he burns those bodies. He calls it “cleansing”, apparently.

“They donate to the church out of the kindness of their hearts,” you tell him, swallowing the bile down your throat as you hear more screams. “Is that not…a little extreme?”

“Extreme? Why, no, not at all.”

“You burn people alive.”

“That is the cleanest way to proceed. Their ashes tumble away, and it makes it much easier for the people, too. If we were to use magic, or beheading, or even hanging—it would be much messier, no? And I believe fire is such an awfully beautiful thing. It can make death look inviting; and even though the heavens might cast them away…in hell, all they will see is the fiery pits. This is their punishment. To feel sorry for them is strange, Y/n.”

Despite this, for the sake of your survival, you continue to visit him. Now, such visits are rare: Anton barely makes time for anyone. But he does, for you. 

Of course, this partial treatment doesn’t go unnoticed by you. He treats only you like this: it’s concerning, actually. His words are light and gentle, but the weight of it isn’t. In fact, he speaks of cleansing, he speaks of murdering in such a calm manner that you wonder if the devil truly resides in him.

But one thing is clear. 

To survive, you need to get into his good graces.

You feel your sanity slip each minute you spend in the game.

Anton kills. So does the Church. And you still can’t explain the goddamn obsession he has with you. Why has he not killed you yet? Anton is no saint, not at all.

Perhaps Anton was ensnared by the promise of Godhood—ensnared by the tendrils of his own self proclaimed grandiosity. Perhaps he had been idolized so much…worshiped by the devoted believers that he had simply been led to believe in his imagined divinity. Anton was a mortal who had dared to cast a shadow that eclipsed the very stars that he had reached for. Anton was simply adorned in robes of imagined omnipotence, and smelt of the fragrance of narcissus.

Here, he was god, but Anton was completely alienated from empathy. For what was a god in isolation but a sovereign ruler over an empire of one, ruling over a realm devoid of the richness of God’s grace?

You can’t deal with him much longer. He keeps murdering: he murders those who come to you under the guise of the silly notion of cleansing, he finds it amusing to see you sob and cry…and he has no qualms about drugging you. If not for the items you have stored in your inventory, warning you of drugs, you would have succumbed long ago.

Anton is no priest. 

And now he stands before you, his lips curling into a smile when he sees the look of despair on your face. He has just killed a friend,

You have to. You have to fight Anton…you have to…

Anton leans forward. You two are a hair’s breadth away.

God. Is God real? Is the devil real—has he taken form in Anton himself, twisting, persuading, begging, tempting people to court evil, to withhold the stench of death? The crimson flames have not faltered for long, and have only seemed to welcome him with fiery contempt, only surrendering when everything has been destroyed in its wake.

You long to spit curses towards Anton. You long for your limbs to connect with his face, and leave a mottled bruise there. You long for your twitching fingers to wrap around the priest’s neck; watch as oxygen slowly slips from his lungs out of your throat. You long to see his body grow limp.

“You are so perfect,” Anton murmurs, “so, so divine. So perfect…”

You don’t get why he says this. He’s been telling you this for ages: it’s the reason why you’ve been treated well. He claims you are some savior from an oracle ready to save him, he claims you saved him.

And now in this scenario, where his fingers are grazing your cheek?

You swallow. There was no way, right? No fucking way—

“I want to kiss you.”

Your heart drops. “…If I say no, you wouldn’t listen.”

A kiss. It would just be a kiss, right? That was okay. It means simply brushing your lips against Anton’s…yeah, that was possible.

You want to cry. Anton presses his lips on yours—it’s a mixture of heat and warmth; the way Anton ravages your lips has some sort of twisted hunger to it, craving and craving and craving. There is an obscene sheen of saliva coating your lips when you part.

The kiss tastes just like the forbidden fruit, plucked from the tree of desire. It is the same way that Eve sinned—eating a fruit that had belonged to the serpent. It was as if you had forged a pact with the devil himself—that in kissing Anton, it was like sealing your fate in the molten wax of sin, staining the canvas of your soul. Had matted it black. 

It was shameful. So utterly shameful that the kiss…

Once Anton fully lets go, he smiles, and you collapse on the ground, tears running down your face.

He needs you, Anton thinks, he needs you. You are the savior who has brought him from the depths of hell. You are his miracle. You are his little pet; his little divine sacrifice, the white sheep with the white wool. You are the one who will follow him guiltlessly. Untouched, untainted, clean.

You are shaking like a newborn lamb.

He presses another kiss on your forehead.

[ before, Anton’s pov ]

The world was dirty.

It needed a savior. Someone to bring them out from the depths of hell—to cleanse them. After all, was that not what the texts read? Was that not what he had learnt, ever since young? Was that not what had been instilled in him since his very birth? Luke 15:11-32. The wayward son who squandered his inheritance but was welcomed back by his forgiving father—Anton had marveled at it when he was young. To think someone would have such boundless grace; such forgiveness for a foolish person…

The oracle. Anton saw the oracle as a gift—a symbol from God. It had been delivered to him when he was young, naive, and careless. 

Anton remembered very little about his childhood. Extremely little. He remembered his mother, his father. But that was it—but oh, how he hated them. Anton did not remember why he hated them, why the portrait of his family had been torn out. He regarded life then, and now, as the beginning of the end.

Something fleeting, something ephemeral. Something tragic. Life was a wonderful tragedy.

People look at me with such endless wonder; such spellbound eyes and widened mouths. They see me as God—they see me as a deity above them all.

And that was true, Anton thought. That was very true. Sinners. Wretched, dirtied, horrid sinners, all of them! Anton despised humankind; they were worthless—made of brittle bones with flesh. He did not even see them as humans. They were just mere vessels in need of salvation.

“Father Anton!”

“Father Anton, would you please help me?”

“Bring me to the path of salvation!

He was anointed by a divine purpose to purify the soiled souls of the world…

Yes, that was his purpose.

It was relieving and calming to have a purpose. To drift in the vast expanse of the world; the universe without a tethering purpose is akin to being a feather in the breath of the wind. Useless, damaging, lonely. Anton could see—it was very easy for him to see who were those who were aimless in life, compared to those who had the bright, bubbly life shining magnificently in their eyes.

Oh, Mother. Anton would stand before her grave. Again, he did not remember much of what he believed was to be a mundane, boring childhood, but his mother’s name left a bitter taste on his tongue, horrid and painful. Somehow, he did not feel a single bit of…remorse, or guilt when he gazed at her tombstone. He expected to feel guilt for something he was quite sure he didn’t do.

But his lips would always curve into a smile when he saw the words etched on the grave. She was dead, he would remember. Dead. Occasionally, snippets of memories would come to him—her shrill voice, her messy, jagged hair, her crazed, crazed eyes. The way her fingernails felt on her skin when she scratched at him wildly.

Clearly, she deserved to die. How did she die, though? What exactly transpired? What kind of person was she, and what kind of person had she tried to make Anton into?

Anton found, to his surprise, that he was bothered about this. Detachment was something he prided himself on: he would never venture too close.

To have attachment with someone would be detrimental. Annoying. Haunting.

There were times—many, many times when Anton had awoken, hollow and void. 

The oracle.

The oracle.

When is it coming? When is it coming? Have the gods lied to me?

The oracle—his lifeline since he was young—was the very proof that this world had a chance, to live on, to heal.

A savior.

There were times Anton would grow impatient. He needed to do something about the state of the world. It would be easy, wouldn’t it? Why did people falter in front of flames? What did people shun away from blood? Was the sight not wonderful, not enchanting? The heat was welcoming—a gentle caress. Those who ventured in, would have their faces bathed in mesmerizing glow. Nevermind their screams, nevermind their bleeding, rotting flesh. 

The fire illuminated the world before it dissolved like nothing. Like it hadn’t existed. 

“Horrible! Horrible! You’re fucking horrible!” Then the stinging of flesh. There was something piping hot, something burning him.

“Why won’t you even flinch, you monster?”

Anton smiled loosely. Another memory. They came into his mind occasionally and quickly. He never pondered over them—it was useless to; for he already had everything he wanted.

The day you came into the world, was the day he felt alive. Waiting had become a bore to him—it was the same routine over and over again, with the same stupid, foolish people—

Something extraordinary had graced his reality. The oracle. You were the chosen one. The chosen one. The chosen one. The one he yearned for; seeked for; the change in the world.

“Dear God,” You had said the first time he saw you. “I confess I have been impure in my holy spiritual presence…”

Anton had seen you before the mural; your head lowered, your words soft and quiet.

Anton had stepped before you, tilting his head to the side as he observed you. In fact, you seemed to be struggling.

“You have to be sincere. You can’t just read off the mural.” Anton sighed.

You seemed to look at him with flickering recognition.

“Forgive me, Father Anton, for I have sinned.” You appeared shocked for the words to even slip past your lips; and oh, you were beautiful. Lovely. Innocent. Anton gazed at you—this was the person he had been waiting for his whole life—fervently, impatiently, silently. 

“You don’t seem to be used to this,” Anton said at last, as he took off his hood. He had not meant to come to church today—he was aware the crowd was growing more stifling, more crazed by the minute. The women of the church reminded him of his mother. There were times he wished he could draw a blade to their throat, and watch the blood spill out in a wonderful crimson.

“I’m afraid it’s been long since my last confession.”

Anton couldn’t help but smile. You were lying. 

“That’s alright,” He said calmly, “you have come now. Is there something in particular that’s troubling you, perhaps? To bring you to confession?”

“I…”

Anton could read human beings exceptionally well. From the way their eyes narrowed, the way their pupils widened marginally, to the gap of their fingers…you were trembling. You were thinking of what other lies you could say.

An adorable fool.

“You…?” He prompted. “You must not feel self conscious in the eyes of God. He already knows, Y/n. He is only waiting for you to confess.”

I am only waiting for you to confess. To tell me that you are from the oracle.

“I cannot even recall it.” You admitted.

You cannot recall it because it is not true.

“What do people come here for, Father Anton?”

Many things.

“The ones who have sinned so awfully they are made to be sacrifices.”

Oh. Sacrifices. Anton did not even—

There were times he would stand before dead bodies, blood in his hand, blinking slowly. When? When had he killed them? It all happened so fast, he wasn’t even aware of the blood staining his clothes, the bodies riddled on the ground.

“You tell me, Y/n.”

“Murder…?”

Anton wanted to laugh. A textbook answer. You had much to learn, didn’t you? It was alright. Anton could teach you. Teach you from ground zero, till you would become who you were supposed to be.

“Mostly, it’s their lack of faith. Rebelling against us. It is their perceived lack of loyalty, and their utter ignorance and disregard for God that leads us to take drastic measures.”

“But that’s…that’s killing isn’t it?”

So pure. So untainted, so innocent. 

The oracle. The person from the oracle. 

“But that doesn’t matter,” Anton said softly, “you show a desire to learn. And that is always very splendid, always welcomed.”

Anton would morph you and turn you into something splendid, divine.

remember to reblog and like! comments are always appreciated

[salliesimpkins]

“I like you a lot”

Isaac lahey x fem!Reader

TW: Smut, oral (fem receiving), use of pet names, claws, nipple play

+16 read at your own risk. I’m not your mommy A/N: first smut to write + english isn’t my first lang word count: 2.5K

You were at school, leaning against your locker. smiling at and laughing with Stiles, until you caught Isaac glaring at you across the hall, visibly upset.

"alright Stiles I've got to go now, I'll see ya" you walked away after Stiles nodded and walked to Scott, and you made your way to Isaac.

"hey" you flashed him a smile and he blushed. How could he not? he thought you were the most beautiful thing ever.

The beta glanced over Stiles before turning back to you. "hey.." he spoke softly.

"Just tired... I uhh, I’ve got a lot on my mind lately" he said slowly and softly, not wanting to ruin this moment between you two.

You nodded slowly, feeling bad for him. "well you know, you can always talk to me" you said softly, reassuring him that he's got someone by his side.

You watched him closely as he looked at you quietly, and you didn't want to rush him to speak, you knew how sensitive Isaac is. It made him feel pathetic when he opened up to anyone or asked for help, that's what his dad has taught him. That a man is a man, boys don't cry, but Isaac knew you, he loved you, trusted you, and he knew your listen and get him anytime.

"I've just been going back.. thinking about my family" He looked down as his expression softened.

"oh" you whispered softly and placed your hand on the boy's back, rubbing it gently. "I know you've suffered from your dad your whole life, but his death Isn’t your fault".

Isaac flinched, but he didn't move away from you. Even though your gesture was tiny, it felt huge to him, It made him on top of the world. He let out a soft sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. "I know... I just-" he paused, unsure if he can keep going or not, but he really counted on you, so he kept going. "I didn't even cry at the funeral and everyone thinks I don't care, that I was wishing the whole time i'd get rid of him, and the problem is.. it's true. I was relieved that he's dead"

"Honey listen to me" you took a step closer, placing both your hands on his shoulder. "your dad used to lock you in a freezer. that night.. that night he hurt you and you ran like any other night, because you didn't know what he would die" you then place your hand on isaac's cheek, caressing it softly "you were just scared, you did nothing wrong"

Isaac paused for a moment and leaned into your touched as he shivered. The relief he felt when his father died was a burden to him, but he knew you were saying the truth so he bit his lip thoughtfully. He wanted to say that your hand felt to right on his skin, but he didn't and rubbed his face with his hand then looked at you hesitantly as he spoke. "I- Iwas scared" his voice trembled as he stammered softly, making you unsure if he meant you to hear him. he slowly smiled at you softly and leaned into your touch again, causing his breath to hitch.

you sighed softly as you try to build up some courage and confidence to ask him to go out with you, but you were too scared that he'd turn you down so you just looked quietly at the ground until you heard a familiar 5 taps on the locker next to you and looked to the direction to see lydia. She must have noticed your flustered face because she tilted her head at Isaac and winked at you. You two have been talking about it and she was eager for you to confess to him, and apparently she was so sure Isaac wouldn't let you down for a reason she wouldn't tell.

you snapped out of my trance as Isaac cleared his throat and looked at the same direction you were just looking at, except there was nobody there.

"sorry about that. I was just wondering if you would want to go home with me? I mean-" You paused and took a deep breath. "why don't you come over and we can just.. relax?" you asked nervously as he just looked at you quietly. "Scott's sneaking out with Allison again and our mom won't be home until ten.. so I was thinking if you'd want to just come over instead of staying alone or with Derek, he could be lame sometimes" I chuckle nervously and put on a fake confident grin.

Isaac stayed quiet for a moment or two, taking in your words, and he thought there was no way he could turn that down, the thought of you and him alone in the house with no distractions. He knew he wanted it but he wasn't sure if you did. if you were just doing him a favour because you felt bad, but he decided to push his paranoia to the side and smiled at you softly with a blush on his cheek, nodding. "I'd like that, if you're okay with it"

"ahh perfect! we are gonna have so much fun! we can watch the notebook too if you want to, or maybe cook or play or just" you pause for a second or two, not wanting to creep Isaac out with your sudden excitement. "we could just.. chill you know?" You looked up at him with a smile.

The two of you walked to your house, as Stiles has already left with his jeep, and while you were walking you felt Isaac's hand brush against yours until he took it in, intertwining your fingers together. you could feel how his hand shakes softly and you knew his stomach was probably flipping, he was a nervous wreck.

You held his hand confidently the way home until you reached it and opened the front door for the two of you. After walking in, you turned to Isaac and smiles. "do you wanna stay in the living room, or go to my room? or we can even cook something!" you asked excitedly.

"Your room...?" He asked hesitantly. Your room was usually off limits, that's where you go to relax on your own, away from the pack. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to be there with you. But part of him knows it won't end at just being in your room. Not that he had a problem but that he was worried from Scott's reaction if he knew Isaac was in his sister's room alone in the house. Scott and Isaac were best friends and Isaac didn't want to risk it, but he still loved you.

you saw the look on isaac's face as he started to look overwhelmed, and more anxious than he was, so you decided to cool it down. "I mean it's okay but if you don't want to that's fine. we can sit in the living room" you shrugged, leaving the decision for him to make as you looked at his eyes.

Isaac nodded slowly, looking at your lips then your eyes. "your room" he said softly and carelessly. He wanted to be with you alone. he didn't care what scott would think, he didn't care what the whole pack would think, he only cared about you and being with you, he wanted you.

you smiled and tilted your head for him to follow you. you walked past Scott's room until you reached your room then you walked to the bed, After taking off your shoes, sitting on the bed, then patting on the space next to you for Isaac to sit on.

Isaac followed you to your room, closing his door behind him. His heart skipped a beat when you asked him to sit next to you and the only thing he could think of is how nervous he is. he looked at you and he thought you look so vulnerable, sitting alone waiting for him to join you, so he took a few steps, trying to regulate his breath before sitting next to you. He was so close and nervous, slowly turning his neck to look at you.

"so.. what would you like to do?" you asked softly, trying to make sure he's not uncomfortable.

Isaac looked at you and for the first time he has walked in the room, he didn't know what to say. A part of him wanted to kiss you and see what happened but he didn't want to make you pressured, and he didn't want to risk kissing Scott's sister, he was the leader of the pack, so he let the silence between you linger before he decided to break the ice.

"can I be honest with you?" he stressed.

"of course, I won't judge" i nodded in reassurance

Isaac struggles to speak so he leans closer to you. He just wants you to understand him, he needs you to know how he feels, what he's been thinking of, but it's hard for someone like him, someone whom emotions always were rejected. He took a deep breath and leaned closer as his eyes fluttered between your lips and eyes then he opened his mouth to speak but he failed so he looked one more time at you before smashing his lips on yours as he moved one hand on the back of your neck as the other ran over your back to your hips, pulling your whole body into his lap while you froze in shock before pulling him closer, cupping his cheeks while you kissed him back with the same amounts of passion.

After a few moments he pulls away, and looks at you in shock, he had expected everything other than you kissing him back.

"I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have kissed you and if scott finds out he's gonna kill me and-" you cut him off pulling him in another kiss, slowly pushing him to lay down as you move on top of him.

"Scott doesn't have to know" you whispered pulling him in a deeper kiss that made him forget everything.

he was in a daze as he pulled away from you. "you look so beautiful when you kiss me like that" he said softly with a soft smirk that caused you to blush.

He smiled softly as he gently ran his fingers thorough your hair. "you're so beautiful you know? it's just so hard to focus on anything else when we are like that, when you're with me. We can take this as slow as you want"

you pulled him for a kiss in response, breaking it as you smiling against lips, and he moaned softly, slipping his hands under your shirt, caressing your soft skin.

"i want this. you. Right here, right now, But I also don't want to hurt you so tell me what you want, darling." he whisper in your ear as his breath hit your neck, causing you to shiver.

"i want you, please" you whined and pulled him into another kiss as your tongue begged for entrance in his mouth. he let out a soft involuntary moan, as his caresses on your back got faster. His tongue danced with your and he began to grind on you, making you feel the hard bulge in his jeans that rubbed your throbbing pussy, until you pulled away from the kiss breathlessly, pushing him up by his chest, reaching to his shirt, playing with a soft fabric slowly. He sat up on his knees in front of you between your legs, taking off his shirt. You looked up at him, slowly placing the balm of your hand on his chest, tracing your finger over it to his stomach. He let out a low groan while he watched you trace your fingers over his chest, his muscles tensed under your touch.

"you're killing me honey" He whispered, moving closer to you as he kissed your neck slowly, then he sat up again as his hands found their way between your legs. Should undo your bra, or maybe start with these pants?" he teased, and sprung his claws out, moving them swiftly above you, tearing off your clothes.

"i loved that set" you pouted and he smirked

"i'll get you new ones" he pulled your clothes off your body, tossing them away on the floor with his shirt.

He smirked when he saw the blush on your face when you looked away, leaning down to your neck. "don't be shy baby" he whispered, before tracing kissed down your collarbone.

you moaned softly, moving your hands to caress his back softly and he let out a sigh against your skin. His hands found your thighs as he rubbed them slowly, kissing lower and lower. His kisses and nibbles reached your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling and sucking around it while he groped the other one with his hand, pinching the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly.

"I love you, so much" He showered your stomach with smooches and pecks, until his mouth found your slit, running his tongue through your wetness, humming in satisfaction. "so wet baby" he flicked your clit with his tongue as you struggled to answer him back, running your fingers through his hair as you pulled them gently. He took one of his hand, wrapping it around my waist to keep me down while he slid a finger in you with the other, slowly and gently, causing you to moan softly.

he sucked your clit harder making you pull his hair tightly, causing him to moan which vibrates against your pussy as his fingers go faster, feeling you clench around them, sucking them in. "Fuck Isaac" you whined. "i'm so close" you whispered, wondering if he even heard you, then he confirmed as he added a finger in, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion, stretching you out as you pull his hair tighter. "Isaac!" you warned, and he understood as you reached your climax, coating his fingers with your cum while he kept his gaze on you then he pulled them out, lapping at your pussy hungrily, taking in your juices.

"you're so sweet baby" he moved up to kiss you as you taste your own arousal. He pulled away from the kiss and you bit your lip, panting for air and you moved your hand to his head, pulling him back down to kiss you, you couldn't get enough of him.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you guys liked this 🎀

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-three | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus snow, canon typical violence, canon typical death, oral sex (m. receiving), implication of committing murder | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus gets more blood on his hands, he also gets his cock sucked.

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 two more exams to go!! can't wait for it to finish! Make sure to reblog and give your feedback! <33

beta read by the birthday girl @nowitsmissing

masterlist | navigation

The next days of Coriolanus Snow are spent in constant paranoia. He avoided you and refused to make eye contact. He was simply so afraid of what was going to happen. Before him, you were much closer to Sejanus. Snow briefly wondered if you interacted with Sejanus because of the power his family held. But he quickly dismissed that thought. Surely you wouldn't have been so calculating since childhood.

District 12 was in chaos trying to find out what happened with Mayfair and Billy Taupe. Spruce had kept his lips sealed. However, he knew that won't be the case for long.

Sejanus Plinth would be dead. And Spruce would know exactly who is responsible. But Coriolanus thought that he would escape to the north before it happened. Lucy Gray was in a hurry too. She was the lead suspect as Mayfair was the reason she was in the games.

Today was the day the bodies were found. Rotten. It was a miracle it was hidden for so long. He had an inkling it was due to you. Because the bodies weren't found at the original place of murder but on the outskirts of District 12. People rarely go there.

The Peacekeepers were talking about it right now. Coriolanus carefully listened, trying to see if anyone had any knowledge of what had actually happened.

“They’re both locals, but one of them is the mayor’s daughter. The other one’s a musician or something, but not one that we’ve seen. They were shot dead.”

“Did they find who did it?” asked a Peacekeeper.

“Not yet. These people aren’t even supposed to have guns, but like I told you, they’re floating around out there,” another replied. “Killed by one of their own, though.”

“How do they know that?” asked Sejanus.

‘Shut up!’ thought Coriolanus. Knowing Sejanus, he could be one step away from confessing to a crime he didn’t even commit.

“Well, she said they think the girl was shot with a Peacekeeper’s rifle, probably an old one that got stolen during the war. And the musician was killed by some sort of shotgun the locals used for hunting. Probably two shooters,” Smiley reported. “They searched the surrounding area and couldn’t find the weapons. Long gone with the murderers, if you ask me.”

Coriolanus’s nerves unwound a bit, and he ate a forkful of pancakes. “Who found the bodies?”

“That little girl singer — you know, the one in the pink dress,” said Smiley.

“Maude Ivory,” said Sejanus.

“I think that’s it. Anyway, she freaked out. They questioned the band, but when would they have had time to do it? No guns were found, no prints either,” Smiley told them. “Shook them up pretty good, though. I guess they knew the musician guy somehow or other.”

Because of the past night’s events, the commander locked down the base for the day.

He and Sejanus floated around, trying to look normal. Playing cards, writing letters, cleaning their boots. As they knocked the mud from the treads, Coriolanus whispered, “What about the escape plan? Is it still on?”

“I’ve no idea,” Sejanus said. “The commander’s birthday isn’t until next weekend. That was the night we were supposed to go. Coryo, what if they arrest an innocent person for the murders?”

‘Then our troubles are over’, thought Coriolanus, but he only said, “I think it’s highly unlikely, with no guns. But let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Coriolanus came into your room that night. Ready to confess his sins and come clean. His mouth went dry when you opened the door. Your lips stretched into a lazy grin. “Hi, Coryo,” you said, as your hand was on the shirt, getting a grip on the fabric to pull him inside of the room.

“What did you do?” you asked him as you pushed him down onto the bed. You stood at the side, towering over him. Your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“I- I didn't do anything,” he said, “I missed you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You fucked up. Real or not?”

“Real,” he muttered.

“Worse than murder?”

Coriolanus winces.

“Do you care about Sejanus?” He asked, hoping that the answer would be in his favor. He could feel his palms sweating, and he pressed his hands onto the sheets.

“No.”

Coriolanus blinks in shock. “No?” He questions, visibly confused, “But- but-”

“Is this about you sending the jabberjays to Dr. Gaul?”

Coriolanus managed a nod. In truth, he had suspected you would find out as Dr. Gaul seems to trust you. Which was one of the main reasons he wanted to come clean beforehand.

You let out a harsh chuckle, “Yeah, Dr. Gaul told me to keep an eye on the boy. I told her he murdered innocent citizens who were against the rebellion. You presented a death warrant to her, I signed it.”

You eye Coriolanus with a smirk. “You should know you can't keep secrets from me, baby,” you shake your head, “I don't know why you try when it's so obvious.”

“Sejanus Plinth and Spruce, the leader of the rebellion, will be dead soon. No need to worry about them, Coryo. Good job, Dr. Gaul is impressed, she sees your potential even more so than before.” you add.

“Is there anything else or…?”

Your eyes turn lustful as you begin to slowly check him out. His heart starts to beat faster, his blood rushing downwards. A tent quickly forms in his pants. It was from your heated gaze alone.

You tease him with a smile, “You're such a boy.”

“Shu- shut up! It's on you- it's because you're looking at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“Like you'll eat me up,” he replied.

“That's the plan,” you whispered, as you went on your knees in front of him.

He lets out a desperate, needy noise at the sight. You looked so pretty like this. He spreads his legs, making up space for you. You bite your lip in anticipation. Your mouth salivating for his taste.

“Holy shit, dove,” he whines when your hand presses into his bulge. You palm him through his pants.

“So needy,” you murmur. “Do you want my mouth on you that bad?”

“Yes,” he gasps out, willing to beg. “Please.”

“That's a good boy.”

You unzip his pants, dragging them down around his knees. His dick is strained against his boxers. A wet spot on the fabric. It was clear how much pre-cum he was leaking. It was pathetic too. But you didn't blame him for it. You pressed your thumb on his clothed tip, and gently slid your fingertip back and forth, letting his sensitive slit feel the slick texture of the fabric.

“Fuck,” he curses, “Don't tease me.”

“I am not teasing,�� you lie.

You pull his boxers down, letting his cock spring free from its confines. The tip is red, the veins on his length popping out, just waiting to be traced with your tongue. You don't let a second go to waste as you let yourself lick his slit. You hold his cock by the base, as you make sure to enjoy his taste like it's a lollipop.

You lick all over, slathering his cock with your saliva. You make sure to trace his veins before you find your way back to his tip. You take his cockhead inside the warmth of your mouth. Coriolanus groans, it took him an iron of will not cum right then and there.

You slowly take more of his length inside and he lets out a whimper. His hand rests on your head, trying so hard not to pull you forward and make you choke on his cock like you were supposed to.

His free hand fists the sheet, as he bites his lower lip to stop a groan from escaping. He could feel that he was getting close to snapping. “Fu-fuck,” he lets out, “Dove… that's so good.”

You continue to suck his cock. You hollow your mouth and he lets out a whimper, his hips bucking up. His cockhead reaches the back of your throat. Surprisingly you don't choke. With a moan of your name, Coriolanus could feel himself cum inside of your mouth.

You taste his salty, thick cum. Letting it coat on your tongue, some of it escapes from the corner of your lips. You pull away as his cock softens and wipe your mouth.

You sit down beside Coriolanus who is trying to catch his breath. He tucks himself in. “Thank you,” he said, “that was good.” You smile at him. Your hand on his cheek. You caress his face.

“You needed to relax, after all, you need to have more blood on your hands,” you said, your smile turning cruel.

“Lucy Gray?” He questions.

“Lucy Gray,” you confirm.

Coriolanus nods, “Yeah, I understand. She will be the only witness left except us.” Coriolanus takes a deep breath. “We'll need to find a way.”

“Let Sejanus die first. I can stay here for a few more days. I'll help you figure it out.”

Coriolanus agrees with you and turns to leave. Before you shut the door, you say to him,

“I was only friends with Sejanus because of you. Because you seemed to be close to him and I wanted to be closer to you.”

After everything, that's not a surprise to him. Though he feels his heart flutter. He falls asleep on his bed with a stupid, lovesick smile, momentarily forgetting about how red his hands are.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

The next day Coriolanus was instructed to stand in a squad flanking the hanging tree. Coriolanus knew why. He had already seen Spruce being dragged into the base. Likely to be tortured for information. Coriolanus knew he was protected by you, so there wasn't much to worry about. Sejanus has been missing since morning. He knew what that meant. Dr. Gaul had nailed his coffin.

The Peacekeeper van arrived and both Sejanus and Lil stumbled out in their chains. Sejanus Plinth was accused of treason. He was caught.

Arlo, an ex-soldier toughened by years in the mines, had managed a fairly restrained end, at least until he’d heard Lil in the crowd. But Sejanus and Lil, weak with terror, looked far younger than their years and only reinforced the impression that two innocent children were being dragged to the gallows. Lil, her shaking legs unable to bear her weight, was hauled forward by a pair of grim-faced Peacekeepers who would probably spend the following night trying to obliterate this memory with white liquor.

As they passed him, Coriolanus locked eyes with Sejanus, and all he could see was the eight-year-old boy on the playground, the bag of gumdrops clenched in his fist. Only this boy was much, much more frightened. Sejanus’s lips formed his name, Coryo, and his face contorted in pain. But whether it was a plea for help or an accusation of his betrayal he couldn’t tell.

The Peacekeepers positioned the condemned side by side on the trapdoors. Another tried to read out the list of charges over the shrieks of the crowd, but all Coriolanus could catch was the word treason.

He averted his eyes as the Peacekeepers moved in with the nooses, and he found himself looking at Lucy Gray’s stricken face. She stood near the front in an old gray dress, her hair hidden in a black scarf, tears running down her cheeks as she stared up at Sejanus.

As the drumroll began, Coriolanus squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could block out the sound as well. But he could not, and he heard it all. Sejanus’s cry, the bang of the trapdoors, and the jabberjays picking up Sejanus’s last word, screaming it over and over into the dazzling sun.

“Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma! Ma!”

Sejanus Plinth is dead.

It's Lucy Gray's turn now.

NEXT PART

[navybrat817]

Aggressively texting Bucky: "How dare you be this fucking cute?!"

Seriously! How is he so cute?!

A Couple of Cuties

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky's cute. He knows it. You know it. You just need to admit it. Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Flirting, tension, banter, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Happy Sinday! Set in the same universe as The Rejects. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't sure how game nights became your thing with Bucky. Maybe it was because it was how the two of you got together. You looked forward to them, especially since they had a tendency to end the same way: The "loser" of a chosen game stripping and the "winner" eventually losing their clothes, too. Both of you were winners by the time you got to bed or the nearest surface he felt like taking you on. Tonight would be no exception.

If you didn't smack him first.

"It's cute that you think I'm cute. Nothing wrong with that."

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at Bucky. He had his signature panty-dropping smirk on his face as he stared back at you from across the table. It was a battle of wills and you were determined not to blink. You refused to let him win. And you refused to acknowledge his cuteness.

I won't think about his adorable smile or his sweet laugh when I crack a joke or the way his eyes go soft when I catch him staring.

"When did I say you're cute?" You asked, finally blinking when you had to. He still hadn't, his deep blue eyes laser focused as he stared.

Of course, he beat me. Damn super soldier and his skills. How the hell can anyone go that long without blinking?

"You say it with your eyes and your smile, just like I say it to you," he replied, holding his phone up as you raised your chin defiantly. Even though his words made your heart swell, you didn’t let it show out of sheer stubbornness. "You also sent me a text. Would you like me to read it to you?"

"I don't need you to-"

"How dare you be this fucking cute?!" he read, trying and failing to imitate your voice.

I sound nothing like that. And I regret hitting "send" on that text message.

"You think because the text came from my phone that I sent it? How do you know Nat or someone didn't take my phone? I mean, face it, you have no proof that I'm the one who sent that message," you said, checking your nails to avoid his gaze. "Maybe someone wanted to give you an ego boost. Not like you need one, but good for them for the effort."

The adorable nose scrunch was out in full force as he laughed and you no doubt had hearts in your eyes as the sound bounced off the walls. The fact that he could relax around you after he faced so many horrors was a wonderful feeling. "Nat has never called me cute and I'm pretty sure she was with Steve when I got this message," he pointed out as he leaned across the table and booped you on the nose with a vibranium finger when you lifted your gaze. "But you think I'm cute and I think that's adorable."

"I'm sorry, but did Sergeant Barnes just boop my nose? You actually booped my nose. We may have to take your badass card away and replace it with a ‘boop boop’."

"No deflecting and badasses can still give and receive boops," he said as he settled back in his chair. "You sent the message. We both know it."

"I did not," you stated.

Bucky licked his lips, drawing your attention to them. You wanted to feel them against yours. You needed them on your skin and between your legs. "You did."

"I did not," you repeated, your voice steady as his gaze moved down to your chest. Can a man actually touch you with his eyes? Logic told you it was physically impossible, but it didn’t stop your body from imagining that he could do so.

"You did, but do you know what's cuter?” He asked, leaning back as he grasped the bottom of his blue Henley and pulled it over his head. “You in my clothes.”

“It’s cute when I’m wearing your clothes?” You questioned, catching the garment as he tossed it your way. The whiff of his cologne made you shiver, along with something that had to come from the serum. You noticed that Steve had a hint of a similar scent to Bucky, but the Captain’s didn’t make your heart race the way the former Winter Soldier’s did. “I was going for sexy.”

“It’s very sexy,” he promised, the praise heating up your skin before he gestured to himself. “But if you don’t admit that I’m cute, you won’t get any of this tonight.”

It was your turn to laugh as you swapped out your top for Bucky’s, watching his eyes darken as you slipped it on. You did look good in his clothes. “You’re going to withhold sex from me? Please. I have a toy with your name on it that’ll do the job just fine.”

Your boyfriend smiled at your words. “Aww. You named a toy after me? That’s flattering. Do you call him Bucky? James? Sergeant? Don’t hold back on me, doll. I wanna know the details.”

“You know, the text was your fault since you decided to send me a selfie,” you defended yourself, changing the subject. It was a cute photo of him. One of many. Of course, you had to say something.

“Maybe I can fuck you with the toy first,” he suggested, your inhale sharp and quick as his voice dropped. It didn’t take long for you to feel his hand on your knee, moving dangerously slow up your leg. “Because you look so cute right before you let go. Your mouth falls open slightly and the sweetest little whine slips out. And almost a look of surprise when you gush around me, like no one else has ever made you come so hard.”

No one else ever has.

“I take it back. You’re not cute. You’re the devil,” you argued breathlessly as your legs parted, allowing his hand to glide up more.

“If I’m the devil, come and sin with me,” he smirked, his hand stopping just before it reached the middle of your thighs. “And for you to take it back is an admission that you do think I’m cute. But if you won't say it...”

“Fine, you smug bastard! I admit it. I sent it because you’re cute. You’re fucking adorable. Living proof that you can be a beast and a sweetheart,” you said as he grinned, grasping his wrist and bringing his hand to your clothed core, the fabric soaked thanks to him. “And thanks to you, I’m all wet. So either do something about it or no game nights for a month.”

His nostrils flared, knowing it wasn’t just a threat. You also knew there was no way in hell he could last that long without your game nights. He cherished them just as much as you did. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. I can play with my toy in the meantime if you’re not up for the job,” you smirked, grinding slowly against his hand. “Cutie.”

You would tell Bucky later just how cute he looked when he knocked the table out of the way to get to you. He would make sure you weren’t sore since he fucked you on the floor. It was endearing how much he cared for your well-being.

You expected nothing less from a cutie like Bucky Barnes.

These two. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mountainsandmayhem]

Aisle Amore

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Summary: You truly never know who you might meet in the grocery store. CW: no smut, all fluff. Flirting, mention of divorce, talks of food, more adorable flirting. Word Count: 3.4k AN: I've gone soft!! I couldn't stop thinking about how the couple in Wonderful Tonight and Netflix & Chill met and even though no one asked, this is exactly how they met. I worked in a grocery store for almost 15 years and I can tell you right now that I would to SPRINTING to the pasta aisle. Special thank you to @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading and both her and @littlevenicebitch69 for helping me come up with a title. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

To you, there’s nothing worse than asking for help. You’ve been fiercely independent your entire life, and these snapped ligaments have been testing you. Your friends say they don’t mind helping, but YOU mind them helping. The pain in your ankle has finally subsided enough that you can put a little weight on it and only use one crutch.

Freedom! 

You shut your laptop at 6 pm, change into something that isn’t pyjama pants and begrudgingly put on a bra. The first stop on your newly found freedom tour is the grocery store. Thirteen year old you would be appalled at how excited you are over this. You jot down all the ingredients you’ll need to make homemade pasta, marinara sauce and meatballs. 

Living in downtown DC has lots of perks, one of them being you can walk to the grocery store that’s just around the block. After gingerly testing your ankles a few times you decide you can walk there. Your dad’s voice echoes through your head, “This family doesn’t cry, take care of yourself, don’t depend on anyone but you”. 

The walk there is easy, it feels good to be out in the summer evening sun, soaking in the vitamin D that you’ve been missing out on the last few weeks. You grab one of those small baskets with wheels and head into the store. It might be dramatic, but it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been out on your own and you feel that same hyped elation you had at 16 when you got your license and your parents allowed you to go out on your own the first time. Except at 16 you picked up your friends and went to the record store, you were much cooler in your youth. 

“Stick to the list,” you say to yourself, realizing you’re slowly becoming just like your mother. That’s fucking depressing. 

The first items are olive oil and flour, you crutch along, the sounds of metal clicking and the rubber bottom squeaking following you as you move along the shiny white tile floor. A song you vaguely remember hearing during your childhood plays overhead, Eric Clapton singing about a woman looking lovely. The bakery must have fresh bread, and the delicious scent of it makes your mouth water. 

Focus! 

As you turn down the pasta aisle, you brush past a man in a suit who’s looking at the canned pasta sauces, poor sap, and stop about ten feet away from him. The small bag of flour you need is on an easily accessible shelf but of course, there’s only one left and it’s all the way at the back. 

Marcus holds up a jar of canned marinara, silently humming along to Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton. He swears he hears his grandmother on his mother’s side rolling in her grave. She wasn’t Italian, but owned a restaurant and was definitely looking down at him ashamed that he was BUYING something she taught him to make.

Sorry grams, he thinks, just as someone hobbles past him, vanilla wafting behind her, temporarily replacing the scent of the fresh bread he’s also going to pick up. His grandmother might come back just to slap him for this dinner tonight. Granted, he did just return from seeing his ex and her new boyfriend so maybe she’d take pity on him. Bake him those gooey chocolate chip cookies he loved so much. 

As he turns to head toward the pasta he sees a woman who quite frankly takes his breath away. She’s so beautiful that he almost can’t take her all in at once. Her bare legs are toned and tanned, wrapped in long black biker shorts, paired with a plain grey t-shirt and unzipped black hoodie. One high top converse laced up on one foot, the other in an uncomfortable looking boot. Her hair is in a low messy bun with almost too perfectly placed pieces along her neck and face. She seems to invade every ounce of him, until all he can see is her and all he can smell is warm vanilla. His mouth goes dry, and his heartbeat fills his ears. 

This next bit happens so quickly that he doesn’t have time to even think about it. But you would later describe it as not one of your finest moments, and he would describe it as the moment that changed his life. 

He watches as you reach above your head, raising up on the tippy toe of your good foot. As you lean forward, your hollow aluminum crutch slips out from underneath you and falls to the ground. An echoing tinny bang startles you and you stumble, putting too much pressure on your broken foot. The sweetest sounding “Ouch! Motherfucker,” leaves your pouty pink lips as Marcus rushes to catch you. 

“Whoa,” he says as he reaches out to steady you, one hand wrapping around your hip, the other cupping your elbow, helping you off your injured leg. “Are you ok?” 

Your cheeks flush as you look up at him. “Sorry, thank you.” 

Your bright blue eyes wash over him, and something tugs behind his heart. Eric Clapton singing "Oh my darling, you are wonderful tonight" as he stands there temporarily stunned, unsure of where he is or what is name is. It's just you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you could be married for all he knows, but something about you draws him in. He didn’t think he’d feel this way again for a very long time, but he needs to find a way to keep talking to you. 

“Let me get that for you,” he says, his hand moving from your elbow, reaching up and easily plucking the flour off the shelf. 

“Thanks, I could have gotten it.” You say and he fights to stop from laughing. He can tell that you’re not someone who asks for help. No, you’re independent and strong willed. And fuck if that doesn’t just make that tug behind his heart pull that much harder. 

“I know you can, you just scared me.” He looks down at you softly as you stare up at him. 

He’s suddenly very aware that he still has one hand on your hip. Your shirt had ridden up as you wobbled, and the skin of your hip is soft and warm against his palm. He finds himself wondering if the rest of you is just as comforting. Just as an inviting. The light scent of your vanilla perfume fills the small space between the two of you. 

“Look,” he says, finding it inside himself to peel his hand off you now that you’re steady, placing your flour in your basket and bending to grab your crutch. “My grandma is already cursing me from heaven for buying canned sauce and boxed pasta. Can you please let me help you?” 

You open your mouth and then close it, almost like you’re trying to come up with a reason to not let him, so he quickly adds, “For my sake.” 

You laugh through your nose, shaking your head and taking your crutch from this incredibly handsome stranger. 

Please don’t be married. Or a total creep. 

“Smooth,” you say teasingly. 

He tugs at his white button up shirt collar. “Is it hot in here?" He fakes a dramatic cough, "I swear - she’s watching me.” 

You look up at the white painted ceiling of the grocery store. “OK, grandma. Chill. I’ll let him help me.” 

When you look back at him he’s smiling from ear to ear, and if you thought he was handsome before; well, fuck, there’s not even a word to describe how unbelievably charming he looks right now. 

He looks down at your basket before saying, “Do you have a big list?” 

“Umm,” you say holding out the special lined paper you have to make grocery lists. “I have a few things, ya.” 

His thick fingers brush lightly against yours as he takes the list. You can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing a wedding ring, score, his nails are trimmed short and his cuticles are nicely manicured. You assume he must have some sort of fancy office job, like a lawyer or an accountant. He seems to radiate stability and you didn't realize you could be so aroused by fingers.

“Are you making pasta? And sauce?” He asks as his brown doe eyes scan your list. 

“I am,” you say proudly. You might not be a world famous chef, but you take pride in your cooking abilities. 

He smiles back at you again. “Stay here,” he says softly, “I’m gonna grab a cart.” 

As he turns to walk away, taking your basket and his sauce with him, you notice the way his grey suit jacket clings to his broad shoulders. Accountant by day, muscle model by night? Muscle model? Great, he’s broken your brain. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear the distinct rumbling of the plastic wheels of a shopping cart heading your way. Just as your handsome stranger comes back into the aisle “At Last” by Etta James starts to play. 

“I’m Marcus, by the way,” he says, grabbing a box of pasta on the shelf and sitting it next to his sauce in the top part of the cart. 

You say your name and notice the tiniest glint in his eye as the sound of it wraps around him. “Well then, we’d better get going on this list.” 

He moves slowly, allowing you to set the walking pace. He’s taken your list and the entire thing feels almost too domestic, like you can envision yourself doing this every weekend with him for the rest of your lives. Maybe there would even be a kid in that little part where he puts his boxed pasta and canned sauce. 

“Alright, so we covered names and who grew up where. So, what do you do for a living?” You ask, snatching a bottle of olive oil off the shelf. 

“I - uh - I work in law enforcement,” he says. 

You look at him, then his tie, then back at him. With a hint of amusement in your voice you say, “Pretty fancy dress code. What are you? Like FBI or something.” 

“Yes, actually. And now that you know that, I miiiight have to kill you.” 

You laugh, “Sure know how to put a girl at ease, Agent Pike.” 

The way you say agent, all teasing and flirty, goes straight to his cock. He’s been called Agent Pike thousands of times over his career but it’s never sent a shiver down his body like that before. 

He runs a hand over his patchy scruff. “I’m kidding. About the killing part, not the FBI part.” 

“Thanks for clarifying,” you laugh.

Whitney Houston’s voice floats across the store, singing about dancing with someone who loves her. 

Neither of you is particularly paying attention to your list or what aisle you’re in. You snake up and down each aisle, both of you occasionally grabbing something you need. 

“What about you?” He asks. Something about the way he asks a question seems different. It’s like when Marcus asks something he’s genuinely asking, not just trying to force conversation. With every answer you give his eyes focus on yours, he nods and seems curious and excited to hear what you have to say. 

The bar is truly in hell if I’m turned on by a man who’s just treating me like a human. 

“I run a small online store for my, umm, for my designs.” This part is always awkward, men change how they treat you once they find out what you do for a living. You avoid his eyes, he’s so goddamn handsome and you’re already disappointed that he’ll soon give you an ick with how he’ll respond to your career, how all men respond. 

“Your designs? Are you an artist?” His eyes light up and he stands a little taller when he asks, he must love art. He’s going to be thrilled to find out your best friend owns a gallery, and probably even more thrilled when he learns you hurt your ankle falling off a step ladder she had you posing on as she painted you, and yes, you were completely nude. 

“No,” you laugh. “I design clothing. Sort of.” You continue avoiding his eyes and chew on the inside of your cheek as you grab some dried oregano and place it in the basket. 

“Hey,” he says softly, stopping by the spices, “You don’t have to tell me something you don’t want me to know.” 

“It’s not that. It’s just,” you stop, glancing up at his warm chocolate brown eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows, and you have the sudden urge to sink your teeth into his neck. “Men just usually treat me differently once they know.” 

He narrows his eyes at you and his lips curl into a tight lipped and curious smile. “That’s clickbait. Now you have to tell me.” 

“Or you’ll kill me?” You laugh. 

“Yes, FBI remember,” he says sarcastically. 

You take a deep breath through your nose before you begin. “Ok, I design and sell lingerie.” You try to sound as casual as possible, smiling sweetly at him before you start walking again. 

Marcus doesn’t follow along so you look over your shoulder at him. Is he blushing? 

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat and avoiding your eyes. “I don’t see how that would make someone treat you differently.” 

“Then why are you blushing, Pike?” You flutter your lashes at him as he catches up to you in the aisle. 

The pink of his cheeks deepened, “I’m not blushing. Pretty sure I got a sunburn when I grabbed the cart.” 

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard that being indoors during sunset is a very dangerous UV time.” You joke. 

He laughs, “You’d be shocked how many people don’t believe it.” 

You both laugh as you head towards the produce department for your tomatoes and onions. Elvis’s ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ comes over the speakers, and even though other people are shopping, it feels like it’s being targeted at just the two of you. You pluck a few tomatoes from the shelf and he opens the little plastic bag for you to place them in. 

He takes a breath to start speaking and you brace yourself for the inevitable. All men do it. They all either ask what your company is called so they can look up your Instagram later or they’re bold and flat out ask you to model some of your designs for them. 

“Where’d you learn to make pasta?” He asks, his voice quivering at the closeness of your body to his. 

“Umm, I sort of did an Eat, Pray, Love thing recently.” You say quietly, smiling up at him. It’s the tiniest movement, but you swear his eyes flick to your lips as your hand brushes against his while you reach into the bag. Your heart is pounding behind your ribs, it’s almost unfair how handsome he looks under these fluorescent lights. 

“Oh? Like you went to Italy?” His voice is low and nervous as he watches you picking up tomatoes, squeezing them gently and smelling them. Carefully choosing the best ones. 

“Yes. Without spilling my whole life story, I got married young and then divorced a few years ago. I just kind of needed a hard reset on myself.” You drop two more tomatoes in the bag and then side step, or more more like side hobble, to the onions. 

“Huh,” he says, “I can honestly say that I know exactly what you mean by that.” 

You both smile at each other, you swear you can see his pulse flutter in his neck before he says, “Unfortunately, I think we have everything on your list,” he finishes off his sentence by saying your name and it sends an explosion of butterflies in your lower belly. You don’t know if you’ve ever met someone who makes you feel like you have somehow known them for your whole life but is also brand new. 

“Sorry. You probably have places to be and I’m -“ Your voice trails off when he slowly steps even further into your space. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says softly, his fingertips brushing against yours causing a buzzing up your arm. Just then ‘I knew I loved you’ by Savage Garden rains down from the speakers. Marcus laughs gently and continues, “Is it just me or has the music been interesting in here tonight?” 

You move your pointer finger just a hair so it brushes against his, “ya, sounds like the crab from The Little Mermaid is in charge.”

A laugh from his stomach passes his lips, it’s joyous and melodic and even though you’ve just met him, you want to make him laugh like that for the rest of your life. He’s smiling so big that you can see all his straight white teeth. His head tips forward slightly and the skin around his eyes crinkles. You’re both so close, he smells like mint and a new book and everything around you seems to fall away, blurring around the edges. It’s overwhelming. Dizzying even. He’s the one. You can’t explain it, but you were meant to be in this grocery, with this annoying boot and crutch. 

“That’s not quite the comparison I would have used, but yes.” His eyes dance around yours, still laced with amusement and happiness. “Is he a crab or lobster?” 

“I think he’s a crab,” you say, pulling your hand back from his to stop yourself from leaping off that cliff and into his arms.

“I think he’s a lobster,” he counters, stepping back but never breaking the connection of his eyes with yours. 

As you head towards the checkout you glance towards the shopping cart nervously, remembering that you walked here. 

Both of you pay for your groceries in a comfortable silence and he scolds you teasingly for trying to grab your bags. “Grandma is still watching.” 

The two of you head for the exit. “Did you park somewhere?” 

“No. I can take them from here,” you’re not going to let this man drive you somewhere or walk you home. That’s ridiculous. You are strong and you’ve already impeded his life enough. 

He lifts his eyebrow suspiciously and turns just a touch so you can’t reach your bags. “You walked here, didn’t you?” 

“It’s really fine, Marcus. It’s not far. Thank you for your help. You didn’t need to do that.” 

“I have an apartment that way,” he says, nodding his head in the same direction you need to go.

“Oh that’s very forward of you, but I know better than to go to a secondary location with a stranger.” And he does it again, that beautiful, happy laugh. “I’m in the same direction.” 

You walk down the quiet street. People always say they wouldn’t want to live downtown because it’s too noisy, but truthfully, after the work crowd disperses for the evening and the dinner rush parts, it’s quite peaceful. 

“How sure are you that he’s a lobster? Willing to make a bet?” 

He looks over at you cautiously. “Alright. I’ll play along. I’m 100% sure he’s a lobster. What’s the bet?” 

“Wow. Marcus Pike, does the FBI know you’re such a risk taker?” 

He says your last name and follows it with, “Quit stalling, what’s the bet.” 

“Ok ok. Once I’m off all the painkillers. If he’s a crab, I make you REAL pasta. If he’s a lobster, you take me out for real pasta.” 

You both stop at the same time in front of the same building, “This is me. So is it a bet?”

Marcus pulls a key fob out of his pocket, “This is also me. And yes, we have a bet.” 

You cross the lobby together, you select your floors and exchange phone numbers on the way up and then he finally gives you your bags. 

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him sweetly as the elevator approaches your floor. “I appreciate you using your grandma to help me.” 

He covers his heart with his hand. “I would never!” 

As the elevator comes to a halt he glances up at you sheepishly and your heart almost breaks open right then and there at how devastatingly handsome and heart meltingly adorable he is all at the same time. 

You smile like a damn fool the moment you’re out of that elevator. Of all the ways you thought your night was going to go, it did not involve a very charming stranger making you all nervous and delusional. 

The second you get inside your apartment you fight the urge to prove yourself right and cash in on our dinner, but you already miss him, so you text him. 

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut  @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[bbunnyyy]

All The Stars~ PT.3

BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.3

A/N: I love this part n I love writing for y'all, you guys are so sweet. I know I said this part would come out a few weeks ago, but my kitten contacted parvo virus. I hope you guys understand :<

P.S: I'd like to add that one of the next parts will have slightly suggestive themes, nothing too descriptive.

ALL THE STARS PT.1 | ALL THE STARS PT.4

You groaned, jolting awake from what you thought was a short nap. The sun was blazing, hot on your skin now. Your head and throat throbbed- you were dehydrated and miserable. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you took in your surroundings.

Bakugou shut the door to his dorm so hard the walls shook. His muscular back rested against the wooden door. He closed his eyes, panting. The book in his hands felt like concrete, heavy and cold. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself down. Opening the book, he took in the pages- pages and pages of sketches of himself sitting idly in class. He had to admit, you had some real talent there. He looked so calm, taking notes while resting his chin on his palm.

Meanwhile, you pulled your knees towards yourself, taking a minute to recall the past few hours. Eyes widening, you frantically searched around as you remembered you had set your sketchbook down- it would be no short of a disaster if anyone opened that book. Maybe it wasn't THAT great of an idea to carry said book out of your dorm room. Shit. Bakugou pulled Kirishima into his dorm room, his heart beating in his temples now. "Woah, I didn't think L/N would be the one who was putting those gifts in your locker! I can't say I'm surprised though, you guys are so thoughtful with each other." Kirishima nodded. "Thoughtful with wHO, I can't fuckin stand her. She's so annoying and dumb and stupid, almost stupider than Deku." Bakugou shouted, hands on his cheeks.

"Yeah, totes bro." Kirishima deadpanned, patting Bakugou's back. "So, when're ya asking her out? There are a couple good movies in the theatre or that new cafe down the street... We should ask Denki, he looks like the kinda dude to have this kinda experience", Kirishima rambled on and on, which all went over the blond's head, too busy calming the thumping in his chest, his head steaming.

Shaking his head, Bakugou took a deep breath in. "Fuck that, We have training at Ground Beta in half an hour. We'd better start heading over and warming up." Bakugou said, ushering Kirishima out of his room. Closing the door shut, He put his forehead to the cool wood at the thought of facing you at the Ground- knowing you, you must be having a panic attack at the mere thought of your sketchbook being missing- fuck- now that he thought of it, that was fucking selfish of him to do. He wondered if he could slip it into your dorm room while you were on the ground- he could fake an injury or a fever or something, he'd just have to convince Aizawa Sensei. A tough task in itself.

☾

You stood next to Uraraka at Ground Beta. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as your fingers fiddled with your hair, still anxious over how you couldn't find your sketchbook this morning. Bakugou was stretching with the boys in some distance, taking note of how you couldn't hide how anxious you were. Almost in tears, you thought about the possible scenarios. What if someone had taken your book? What if they'd shown Bakugou? What if they'd leaked it all around UA? Your hero career was as good as over.

Aizawa Sensei walked onto the ground, patting your back as he took notice of how down you were. Aizawa Sensei started reading off the pairings for training. You shook your head, taking in deep breaths while steadying yourself to get your head in the game. UA wasn't for the weak and you weren't going to let something as small as this drag you down- they were just sketches and you could always claim the book wasn't yours, un-named as the book was.

"YN/LN and Bakugou Katsuki, please make your way to the centre of Ground Beta."

You physically flinched as you grimaced at the pairing. Uraraka gave you a small push, urging you to step forward. Aizawa Sensei gave you the side eye, wondering what kind of argument you and Bakugou had again, prompting this kind of reaction from you. Little did he know, huh?

TAGLIST: @lovra974 Thanks so much for keeping up with the series~

[shy-taylorsversion]

Lie To Girls - Dean Winchester x Reader

summary- y/n always knew dean winchester would be the death of her.

warnings- language, violence, hurt, and absolutely zero comfort. this is very very not happy and extremely sad, that's all I'm saying.

a/n- inspired by this song by the wonderful sabrina carpenter i was listening to short n sweet and i couldn't not write this when i heard lie to girls. i apolgize in advance. (not beta read either, oops)

Dean Winchester was a good liar, a professional one at that. He could get anyone to believe anything if he just talked for long enough and flashed that smile.

But since the beginning, he’d never needed to lie to her.

Her life had gone to shit in a matter of a few days. Her best friend was found dead, ruled a robbery-homicide but it never made sense.

Nothing was stolen, then he’d shown up. Claiming to be her best friend’s cousin but she’d seen right through it. It wasn’t long before she’d pieced it together on her own, monsters were real and he hunted them.

He didn’t seem to realize that she liked him enough that he didn’t have to pretend with her, she’d just do it for him.

It never stopped him though, spouting one excuse after another. Swearing he’d see her soon and call even sooner. He’d promise he’d only had one drink that night, that he’d left alone and was just thinking about her. Guilt crept in and he’d text her, talking like old friends.

When he’d go weeks without calling, he’d apologize and say it wouldn’t happen again, an isolated incident. He’d show up at her apartment after months of silence with some vague story, she learned to not ask.

She’d take his excuses at face value, accept his apologies like she hadn’t already. She forgave him every time walked out the door. He didn’t have to lie to her. She’d rationalized his indiscretions before he’d committed the act. Knowing what he was doing but letting him anyway.

She’d cry at the door of her apartment as she watched him drive away, telling herself that he’d be back to stay one day. Every time he’d come back, all smiles and laughs at her door. She’d call the ache in her chest for butterflies but it was more like cardiac arrest.

It was all lies she’d made up in her head, delusional fantasies of a shitshow she’d turned into forever.

– – –

Years later he was still everywhere she went. She’d been acting like a stupid girl so hung up on a man who didn’t care but she didn’t how to stop. All she ever did was wonder where he was, what he was doing, or if she ever crossed his mind.

There was a cavern in her chest when an old rock song was playing or when a brown leather jacket caught her eye, he was top of her mind at all times. For Christ’s sake, she’d looked at a fork one night and thought of the first time they’d gone out to a diner. Forks are fucking everywhere, they don’t belong to Dean Winchester.

She reminded herself of her mother and how she ignored the nights her dad didn’t come home or of her sisters who spent countless nights crying over facts they’d sworn were incorrect. The girl outside the strip club, makeup smeared as tears ran down her face and tarot cards clutched to her chest.

All the women she’d ever known were clever enough to see through their lies but stupid enough to let them get away with it.

---

From the first grin, all green eyes, and flirty remarks, he’d been shameless and she’d caught herself laughing, enjoying life in the middle of a living hell

She’d known in that moment, Dean Winchester would be the death of her. She hadn’t realized how true the sentiment would be.

It hadn’t hit her what was happening until the woman had thrown her against the wall. Someone had screamed her name. She’d caught a glimpse of black eyes before blacking out.

The world was hazy when she woke up, her head was light and the room spinning. Something hot and wet was running down her stomach, she shifted to try to check but she was held back.

A hand found her shoulder, pushing her back down. They were saying something to her but her ears were ringing. She dragged her gaze up, blurry. Every movement left her exhausted like she’d run a mile. Green eyes met hers and she couldn’t breathe. He was back and he was here, with her. A sluggish smile spread across her face when his hand found her cheek, warm and rough. She let her eyes close for a second before she was shaken, just slightly.

“No, No, No, Sweetheart. Eyes open, eyes on me.” Dean’s voice was muffled and rushed but she peeled her eyes back open, mumbling about being sleepy. He nodded and said something she couldn’t hear.

Her eyes fell to slits, she tried to keep the open but everything was so heavy. A bone-deep chill was running through her now, all she wanted to do was curl into him and sleep. She could see his face still, his expression was all wrong though.

There wasn’t any boyish smirk or teasing grin. He was frantic, eyes wide and mouth still moving.

She understood when a smear of red down his wrist caught her attention when his other hand found her face, wet and sticky like her shirt.

She was dying and Dean Winchester was scared.

It explained the way she felt nothing, other than cold and tired. Bloodloss would do that, she couldn’t remember where she’d learned that from. It was probably him.

“You’re gonna be fine, ok?” His words were panic, running over the top of others. “Cas, he’ll be here soon-”

She cut him off, dragging hang up to his face. Her hand was covered in blood like everything else seemed to be. He covered his hand with hers and leaned into it.

“You’re gonna be ok. You’re fine. You have to be fine.” He was still rambling, she let her thumb run over his lips and he stopped.

She knew by the glint in his eye that she wasn’t making it out. But he was here, holding her and telling her she’d be okay so she did what she’d always done for him.

“I believe you.” It came out like a whisper, not having enough strength for more. Warm streams of tears fell from her eyes, she didn’t know when that started. He shook his head. She wiped his own tears away and smiled. "it’s ok I believe you. I’m gonna be ok.”

Her vision was vignette now, corners fading into black and all she could still make out was him. He was a hazy shadow, clutching onto her. Her hand had fallen from him, at least she thought.

The white-hot cold had consumed her. She was limp in his arms, suspended into nothingness.

The world was filled with green eyes.

Then nothing.

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight: Part 10 - Mount Everest

📜All I'm saying for this one is... Natasha had it coming...

❗️+18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Enemies to Lovers, Original Female Character (s), Angst, Yelling, Verbal arguments and fights, standing up for friends, Minor Bob Floyd x Original Female Character, Minor Mickey Garica x Orginal Female Character, Third Person POV, Privacy invasion, Angst, Grace and Cora are done with the BS, missing persons, mentions of a parent passing away from cancer, panic, and bullying.

Thank you, @sarahsmi13s and @tgmreader, for beta-reading this before I posted! I felt the pressure on this one!!!

#6.5k

Part 9 | Masterlist | Part 11

*Grace*

Grace didn't live up to her namesake when she found Mickey and Cora. The couple was lurking near the entrance to the waterfall, wondering what the hell was going on. Grace ran to them rapidly, panic seizing near breaking heart.

"Jake and Maeve are in trouble," she cried as she grabbed Cora's wrist.

Neither Cora nor Mickey said a word, willingly letting Grace drag them away towards the rocky slope. Once they reached the base, Cora finally asked her what she had meant. But Grace paid her no mind, already starting to march up that ridge, rocks and mud be damned.

Unknown to her, Grace hadn't realized she had been openly crying at this point. But it had roused the attention of the rest of the group, who had scattered in the aftermath of the failed proposal. One by one, they shot off from wherever they had been, hoping to figure out why she had suddenly started crying.

Or, for some, relishing in whatever drama was currently unfolding

Grace ditched Cora’s wrist halfway up, instinct pressuring her to let go to get there faster. She nearly slipped in the mud because of it, not that she cared.

Maeve needed someone. Nothing else mattered.

But once Grace reached the top of that ridge, half expecting to find her boyfriend, she let out a haunting cry instead.

She wasn’t there. Jake wasn’t there. And neither was Bob.

She cried out his name. Once and twice, down the riverbank and off into the thick bush. All three of them could have been further off, but to Grace, it only affirmed that something had happened. Mickey and Cora kept trying to get her to explain, but Grace didn’t notice. Her concern for Maeve and Jake morphed into desperate concern for Bob, wondering if he had succumbed to the same fate. 

And it was then Grace sucked in a sharp, desperate breath. She was alone in a group that wouldn’t stand up for Maeve when it mattered. Would they believe her when she thought something had happened to her? To Jake? 

There was also the little fact Natasha had been the only one to come back down from this hill. Grace didn’t think she could bring herself to harm Maeve physically, but after her failed proposal, who's to say she was incapable of holding back her anger? 

Whose to say Maeve tried to apologize, and Natasha shoved it back in her face? Whose to say Natasha was planning to do the same thing to the poor girl she fucked over in her first year of college? 

Everyone made it to the top of the ridge, forming a circle around Grace. Bradley, Javy, and Rueben were the first to follow. They instantly asked Mickey and Cora what was happening, though they had no idea and relied only on what Grace had told them. Then Veronica, Jessica, and Natasha joined, though they remained silent, watching Grace try to count her breath.

Grace’s eyes searched the faces of those who stood around her. To say any single person in the group would believe her if she told them, Grace was almost sure they wouldn’t. At least, not without the weight of Bob’s voice. Ironically, maybe even Jake’s, if he wasn’t missing. 

And even then, with the knowledge she had now, she wasn’t sure anyone would go against Natasha for fear of history repeating itself. 

Standing in the centre of this horrible group, Grace realized she was alone, facing the possibility that she might have to do what she had mentioned to Bob after all. And she wondered if, without him here, she lacked the faith and courage to do so. 

She’d have to do it alone. And Grace was utterly terrified of the fact. 

Bradley stepped forward, reached for her elbow, and asked softly, "Grace, what the hell is going on?"

It was the worst possible thing Bradley could have done.

Grace whipped around violently, yanking her arm from his grasp, spitting out harshly, "Wow, now you all fucking care what's going on!"

Bradley jumped back, his hands in the air like Grace was wielding a gun, finger poised on the trigger. He was horrified - as was everyone else. Grace Mitchell was swearing for the first time they had all known her - Bradley included. And he couldn't help but shudder like ice had shot up his spine.

Never in a million years did he imagine this - his childhood friend, practically his adoptive sister - raising her voice and cussing him out, making him feel unusually vulnerable, like a child who had scraped their knee on the sidewalk.

One person was undeterred by Grace’s reaction. She calmly stepped forward in front of Bradley, softly reaching for Grace's cheeks with both hands. Framing her face, Grace could see nothing but a pair of sheer ice-blue eyes staring back at her. And for a moment, Grace finally felt like she could breathe.

Because Cora Kazansky's eyes had a softness to them that only Grace could perceive.

"Grace?" she asked softly.

Grace whimpered, uncaring who was around her. "They aren't here. He's not here. It's too quiet, Cora. Jake and Maeve should be tearing into one another, but they aren't... and... and..."

She had to take a pause, sucking in another deep breath before she choked over her vocal cords. " Somebody saw them, and Nat came up here, but only Nat came back down... so Bob went up, and now..."

Cora interrupted her before she could continue rambling, flexing her hands and shaking Grace's head slightly. "It's okay, Grace. We will find them. We won't leave this park until we do."

Grace laughed softly in her head. It was such an optimistic thing to say. It wouldn’t be that easy. 

And as if to prove her entire point to Bob and the whole reason she panicked in the first place, Natasha's voice and words followed like clockwork. “She walked off upset when I last saw her, back here, towards the falls. I’m sure she’s okay, Grace.”

“What about Jake?” Mickey suddenly asked. “Where is he then?”

Bradley scratched the back of his head. “He ah… might have tried to go after Maeve.”

All eyes shot to Bradley. “What?” he shrugged. “He found me after… and apologized. He’s been trying to work on fixing things with Maeve… I might have encouraged him to go find her.”

"You forgave him for that?" Natasha's voice was sharp.

Bradley squinted his eyes at her. "Why wouldn't I? He apologized. And meant it." 

Something appeared in Natasha's eyes that made Grace's stomach uneasy. Even as they narrowed and Natasha pressed her lips into a fine line, Grace couldn't help but wonder if Bradley had unknowingly struck a nerve.

"So Jake is likely with Maeve?” Cora asked, then turned to face Grace. “And they are in trouble.”

Grace nodded. "Think about it, Cora. The way those two have always gone at it? We'd hear them." 

Cora's brow furrowed. She couldn't deny Grace was right. 

“Oh, come on, Grace. We all know Maeve is a bit… Melodramatic…” Natasha remarked. “They are probably off in the forest shitting on each other, and sooner than later, they’ll come back with their tails between their legs.” 

Jessica and Veronica laughed, and Grace couldn’t hide how she stiffened. But Cora… Cora looked like she was actively struggling to hold back her anger. And Grace knew, at that moment, she should never have assumed she had been alone in the first place. 

“Melodramatic?” Cora hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “Are you seriously shitting me right now? Do you even know why you followed Grace up onto this ridge? Were you just going to stand around and make nasty ass comments about her? Or were you waiting for the right moment to ask what the fuck happened to your supposed best friend? What happened to Jake? Even Bob ?” 

Bradley watched Natasha anxiously for her reply, wondering why Natasha seemed so eager to dismiss her best friend. Looking at the bigger picture, if something did happen to Maeve and Jake, the proposal didn’t matter. He could always try again. 

Grace stepped forward, silently taking Cora’s hand in support. Cora’s grip could have rivalled her own, nearby bent on cutting off her circulation. Her voice was steady and cold when she said, “You were the only one to come down from this hill. Maeve didn't. Jake didn't either. Who's to say you didn't do something to her, huh?!"

Natasha shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her jaw clenching tightly. She called out defensively, “I didn’t do shit to her! I told her how her actions made me feel! She stormed off and told me she didn’t want to see me again!"

Grace scoffed, murmuring to herself under her breath. "That’s debatable."

There was a pause. Natasha opened her mouth, firmly stating, "I’m probably right! She’s on a walk, stewing over what she did. She’ll come back. She always does!"

That was Grace's breaking point. The cry crawled its way out of her throat, the gut-wrenching, frustrated sound making her curl her spine and tilt her head back with force as if she had been possessed. The desperate shout reverberated against the trees, the ground, and the stones, a disturbance more profound than anything else the forest had encountered that afternoon.

And it had encountered more than its fair share already.

Her voice croaked into silence, only for her eyes to single out the person she had deemed responsible for this entire fucking mess. Even Jessica and Veronica had the decency to step back from her target, leaving Natasha alone to face the wrath of Grace's upcoming remarks.

"You are a shitty ass friend, Natasha Trace!"

And like a stack of lined-up dominoes, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, Reuben, and Javy stiffened hard.

"I'm not a shitty friend!" She gasped. Grace was even more pissed off at Natasha's reaction, looking confused and upset over why she'd ever say such a thing in the first place. She didn't even let Natasha speak before the following words flew out of her mouth. "Nobody talks about it! Nobody dares utter a word about how you treat her, use her, walk over her?"

"Grace..." Bradley cautioned. The fallout over this would be massive, and even if they didn’t have all the facts, Bradley knew no matter what, there was no going back to the way things had been. While he had questioned Natasha's treatment of Maeve, this was neither the time nor place to handle this.

But Grace was too far gone to care about hurting her childhood friend’s feelings. She whipped up her hand, a single pointed finger shoved at eye level between them. Bradley shut up, though fear coursed through his stomach at the realization Grace would not let this go.

"Why the hell would you treat your supposed best friend the way you have?" Grace roared. "Why would you force two people together who hate each other all to watch you get engaged?! Why wouldn’t you tell her Jake was coming along?!”

There was a stunned silence that pressed down on everyone like a heavyweight. Natasha’s eyes widened, and her mouth still opened and closed like a fish to form words, though no sound came out.

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for too long because Bob asked me, but I can’t. I just fucking can’t anymore.”

Mickey stepped forward, his hands reaching out towards Grace. “Grace, you should…”

“No!” she shouted. “This needs to be said! Who the fuck cares what happens in the aftermath!”

Natasha finally found her voice, but it was weak and trembling. Grace, in her fury, couldn't tell if she was being sincere. "I thought they could handle it and figure their shit out for this. I thought this mattered enough..."

Grace recognizes what Natasha left out instantly. ' *I thought they could figure out their shit for me.'*

“You thought they could figure out their shit for you? Of course, your engagement mattered!" Grace shot back. "Why do you think they agreed to come along in the fucking first place? Why do you believe Maeve agreed, even knowing she’d forcibly be spending a week out here with Jake? You mattered to her, and you know it!” 

Natasha's face crumpled, tears welling up in her eyes. “They ruined everything! They couldn't shut up for one day or a week and just be civil! They had to make it all about them!"

Grace didn't soften; she couldn't. Not after all the times she stood by and kept her mouth shut. “What did you expect, Natasha? You forced them together, knowing they hate each other. You punished Maeve for surviving in the only way she knew how. And you never once tried hard enough to figure out what the hell happened between those two?!” 

Grace’s breath hitched as she tried to steady herself. 

“A good friend would have ensured she felt safe coming out here! A good friend would have grabbed Jake by the ear and laid into him! A good friend would have helped her try to work through her feelings. A good friend wouldn’t sit back and watch the chaos ensue when they have two hands and a heart to shoulder the burden! A good friend would say fuck the chaos! I'll burn in those flames with you!"

Natasha cried out. “What about me? Don’t I deserve to be happy too?!” 

Grace’s entire body shook with a mix of rage and anguish, her voice raw and piercing once more as she screamed, “It’s not always about you!” 

The intensity of her words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and unyielding. But Grace pushed on. 

"Maeve has been drowning the entire trip, drowning between making sure you saw none of her struggles and handling Jake. You've been too busy with twit one and two to realize it!"

"Wow, thanks, Grace," one of them barked.

Grace didn't look at them when she spat, "Trust me, I'm not losing sleep over the loss of the two of you."

The group fell silent, and no one dared to interrupt Grace as she continued. Natasha's eyes darted around, looking for support, but found only cold, unyielding stares.

 "Maeve never said a damn thing about what happened between her and Jake to you. How would she rather endure someone she hates for your friendship than tell you why? Did you ever stop for one second and wonder why?!”

 Natasha swallowed hard, her throat working visibly as she tried to push down the lump.

"You weren't the one who held her hand when Jake challenged her, or who heard her crying in her sleep in the tent beside her, or who offered to get someone to bandage her wrist after she got hurt!"

Mickey kicked a rock beside his foot, the stone skittering on the hard ground. "I can't even take credit for that," he said.

"Mick..." Cora warned gently. "Now isn't..."

"What?" he shrugged. "I can't. Jake asked me to check her wrist. I didn't even think to, and you didn't either."

Cora dropped her chin to her chest. "You didn't, Cora," he stressed before turning to the whole group. "None of us did. And the one person who did ask, Maeve, doesn't get along with him. What does that say about us?"

He turned towards Nat. "What does that say about her supposed best friend?"

Everyone shuffled uncomfortably, eyes darting to the ground or finding sudden interest in the surrounding trees. No one wanted to be the first to break the following silence, heavy with unspoken thoughts and fears. The shared belief resonated through the group that everything would be worse if they did.

A panicked shout of Grace's name took care of that for them, startling them all.

Bob tore from the bushes, half covered in spiky burs and small pieces of broken wood. He was panting hard, his arms bleeding with scratches and mud, and his legs not faring much better.

Grace cried out his name the second she saw him, bolting from where she stood, nearly tripping in relief. She slammed herself into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him, ensuring not a single inch was between them.

Bob returned her hug, shushing comforting words into her hair. “I’m here, Grace. I’m okay. I’m fine.” 

He wrapped a single arm around her body, looped up above her shoulder but down below her opposite arm, mindful of the mud and his wounds. Not that anyone noticed his injured state.

Everyone was too busy staring at his other hand, hanging lowly at his side, for Maeve’s map was tightly in his grasp, covered in dirt, damp, and practically ripped to shreds.

Mickey was closest, reaching for it only to hold the pieces with dangling fingers. The battered pieces of paper turned in his grasp, revealing three single gaping lines through the centre. It spun a few times before he declared, "These were made with claw marks."

"Claw marks?!" Bradley exclaimed, urged by Mickey's statement to rush forward. But inspecting the marks and the threads barely holding it together, he was horrified to see something else marking the page.

As soon as he had taken those steps closer, he stumbled back with a gasp. "That's a bear's footprint."

"A bear?!" Jessica and Veronica's voices overlapped, the shrieking making Cora and Grace roll their eyes.

Releasing Grace, Bob took the map back from Mickey, turning over to find what Bradley had seen. Nestled in the corner, streaked with mud and at the end of the claw marks, a collection of oblong and rounded marks, with the largest pad imprint dominating the centre only to extend beyond the page.

Bob saw bear tracks when he reached the end of Maeve and Jake's trail, the two of them having chased each other off into the dense forest. He hadn't thought much of it. Not until he saw the mud-stained rocks and the map six inches deep in the mud. He had panicked, grabbed the piece of paper and tore back through the bush, each step filling him with dread.

"Where did you..."

"There was a cliff just off the break in the treeline," Bob offered to Bradley.

"A cliff?" Bradley asked, his eyes wide. Bob could only nod in reply, his Adam's apple rolling in his throat as he swallowed.

"Did you .... look?" Mickey asked with caution. “Was there…”

Bob nodded and then shook his head, offering a quiet "They weren't there."

If anyone had let out a sigh of relief, nobody heard it. As if a gunshot had gone off to signal the start of a race, voices immediately launched into different explanations of what could have possibly happened. 

Someone shouted Maeve lost the map. 

Jake was elsewhere and coming back. 

Both of them got lost. Separately. Or together. 

Either one was on a walk. 

The bear came around long after they had been there.

If someone could say it, it was said aloud. The only thing anyone refused to entertain was the possibility of either one ending up dead. 

Grace and Bob remained quiet, hand in hand amongst the competing voices. Bradley was hurling something at Jessica. Mickey was hurling something at Veronica. Even Cora was fueling the fire by trying to get Natasha to admit she didn’t care about what happened to Maeve. 

One thing was obvious, though - they already believed they were right. No new information or confirmation from Bob, who found evidence of their whereabouts, would have been enough to stop them. Their need to be right had long won out over why they had been arguing in the first place.

Grace wondered if this was how Maeve felt and why she hadn’t told anyone about Jake. Given the chance, they probably wouldn’t have listened anyway.

There was a pause in the fighting, and somebody gave a high-pitched scoff. Everyone turned towards the sound and faced the brunette standing next to Natasha. Cora and Grace closed their eyes, almost bracing for whatever vapid comment would come hurling out her mouth next. 

Nothing could have prepared Grace for the reality of it, though. Jessica flicked one of her manicured nails off the other, seemingly sending a speck of dirt into the air. 

“Is no one going to point out the obvious? She probably ran off just to get attention, expecting Jake to chase after her. It's no coincidence she's named after a fly—always buzzing around him, thinking their ridiculous love-hate game will make him fall for her. Honestly, it's pathetic."

Grace’s hand tightened into a fist, her knuckles cracking under the force. Already on thin ice and running off embers, she was ready to throw that first punch despite knowing she shouldn’t. She opened her mouth, lips poised around the words ‘You bitch’ as she swung her hand back, ready to strike. 

But Cora, ever so calmly, stopped her. Grabbing Grace’s elbows from behind, she pulled her off her path. The words stalled on Grace's lips as she was tugged behind Cora's body, her friend already taking her place.

Where Grace had stepped forward in a fury, Cora’s attempt was more reserved, though no less scary. She slithered forward like a snake; her head tilted at such an angle that it looked like she was stalking her prey. Her blue eyes, wide and clear, never blinked or twitched, serving as what would have been poisonous teeth primed to strike. And with her hands carefully held behind her back, it was clear Cora had no intentions of holding back whatever truthful venom needed to be shared.

She didn’t even try to hide the hatred in her voice. "What the fuck is your point? Why the hell would you need to say that out loud or in general? Hmm?"

Not expecting the sudden calm, aggressive onslaught, Jessica stumbled back two steps, her back hitting a thorny bush. She squealed the sharp prick of the thorns against her skin through her thin shirt, making her jump forward and right back into Cora's path.

Something clattered to the ground, and both girls followed the sound. Jessica's bright pink phone lay upright in the dirt, the screen black except for a bright red dot and a counter slowly ticking away the seconds on opposing ends of the screen. When Cora lifted her head, eyes wide with wild fury, Jessica's face turned a shade paler.

Cora was not surprised in the slightest. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. She bent down, scooping up the phone before Jessica could even bend down to get it.

“Give it back!” Jessica screamed, trying to swipe at Cora’s hand. But Cora merely lifted her hand out of reach, sending Jessica a nasty glare. “You were recording me without my permission. I have every right to get rid of it!”

Bringing the phone back down, Cora stopped the recording only to realize Jessica's phone was unlocked. She had seen those two at the falls and heard what they had bitched into their cameras. It hadn’t struck her then, Maeve not reacting to less than apparent remarks, but it did strike her now, the idea that maybe these two had more than anyone truly realized. 

Without hesitation, she pressed on the window in the bottom corner, opening Jessica’s album. She began scrolling through the content, her anger deepening when she saw the extent of Jessica's recordings—videos and audio clips of everyone. But most of all, there were recordings of interactions with Maeve. And Cora knew, without a doubt, they only had them with the intent to manufacture them later.

Cora’s face hardened. “You've been recording all of us, haven't you? All our conversations, private conversations... and Maeve. You've been targeting her the most!"

Jessica opened her mouth to protest, her eyes darting around as she searched for an escape. She quickly snarled out, "You can't tell me Midge acts the way she does for shits and giggles?"

It was clear Cora was dead set on nailing these two to a wall when she followed up with, "Do you act the way you do for shits and giggles? Cause let me inform you, Maeve's - and yes, her name is Maeve, use it- actions aren't constructed around gaining attention. Or manipulation!"

Jessica's defiance flickered, but she stayed silent. Cora took a step closer, her voice steady and cold. "You realize talking or spreading shit about another person says more about you than it does about the person you're talking about, right? No matter how you frame it, it just shows how insecure and malicious you are, trying to twist everything to fit your narrative."

Cora looked down at the phone, her mind already made up. "If people wanted their private lives plastered all over the internet rooted in someone else's fucked up opinion, they would do it themselves! But you?"

With her anger boiling over, Cora navigated towards the phone's settings and found the factory reset button. "This ends now," she growled. She hit the button with a sharp jab, watching as the phone started wiping itself clean.

Jessica lunged forward, trying to grab her phone. "You can't do that! That's my phone, you psycho!"

Cora stepped backwards, holding her hand high and out of reach. "Watch me."

Turning her head to her hand in the air, Cora watched as the phone’s screen went dark momentarily, then flickered back to life. A logo appeared, followed by a progress bar slowly moving across the screen. She tossed it back to Jessica with a controlled flick of her wrist.

“There you go. Must be tough, watching all that potential disappear right in front of you, with nothing else left to hide behind.”

But there were two in this equation, and Cora would be damned if she didn’t acknowledge Veronica was probably in on this too. Cora's gaze snapped to her, instantly feeling suspicious.

"And what about you, Veronica? You've been quiet through all this. Were you doing the same thing? Recording us behind our backs?"

Veronica took a step back, her face flushing. "I... I didn't..."

Cora's voice cut through her stammering. "Give me your phone."

Veronica hesitated, glancing at Jessica, who was silently pleading for her not to give in. She spared a glance at Javy, hoping he’d step in and stand up for her. But both he and Rueben remained silent, neither saying a word. Javy had his arms crossed, a frown marking his usually calm face, while Rueben’s jaw was set, his eyes throwing daggers at Jessica.

The intensity of Cora’s anger left Veronica feeling like she had no choice. With trembling hands, she unlocked and handed over her phone like a child caught red-handed by a stern parent.

Cora quickly navigated through Veronica's phone, and her suspicion was confirmed when she found similar recordings. "Unbelievable," she muttered. She repeated the process, resetting Veronica's phone and deleting all the content she could find.

"I have half a mind to throw them over the side of the waterfall, but I'm not that fucking heartless to leave you without help should you get lost."

"God, you're such a bitch," Veronica sniped. But Cora merely smiled, tossing her phone back, uncaring if she caught it.

"Why would that concern me? My daddy didn't raise me to take shit from the opinions of someone who doesn't like it when they stand up for themselves or others. I should have done it from the start, but I shouldn't have been scared to walk alone."

Veronica's eyes narrowed, her mouth twisting into a cruel smirk. “If your 'daddy' had been around more, maybe you wouldn't have turned out to be such a mess.”

A flicker of pain crossed Cora's brow. She steadied herself, taking a deep breath before she lifted her chin, staring her down. "My dad passed away from cancer, Veronica. And it's not something I'd wish for anyone to experience. Taking cheap shots because you're mad is low, even for someone like you."

If Natasha sucked in a sharp breath at Cora’s words, nobody heard nor saw it.

Veronica’s smirk faltered, her brow furrowing as the realization hit. The usual venom in her eyes was replaced with a spark of irritation at being backed into a corner with no response. She went after the girl with the parent who passed away from cancer. Any remark she could fathom wouldn't gain her any sympathy from those here. Not even Natasha. 

 So, she shifted her gaze to the ground as if it would magically enable her to bury herself six feet under as if a turtle was retreating into its shell. Some shell it was, for Javy and Reuben shook their heads, having stood slightly apart from the group as everything unfolded. 

Reuben’s voice was deathly quiet when he asked, “Were you really going to do that all to Maeve?”

Veronica stuttered a reply, sputtering nonsense about how Maeve had it coming, that she and Jessica were in the right. Meave had treated them horribly and was anything but less than accommodating. 

 Unfortunately for them, Cora wasn't done, not by a long shot.

 "Oh really?  Then you really should be more careful about who is listening to you go on to Natasha about "just how horrible" Maeve has been when the two of you were gaslighting yourselves into thinking you weren't at fault for your horrible remarks to her!"

"But she was!" Jessica pouted. 

Bob leaned over to peer behind Bradley almost comedically, eyeing Veronica. "Never thought you'd get out of the studio,' 'Sold any of your paintings yet?', 'Just thought I'd check in on your little hobby,'" he mocked. "Each one you struck at her until you elbowed her and caused all her brushes and paints to tumble out of her bag!" 

All eyes shot to Veronica: Javy is the hardest of them all. Nat's eyes, however, widened in shock. 

"Maeve has always said if you throw shit at her, she'd throw it right back. You honestly can't expect her not to defend herself,"  Grace snapped. "Trust me, she's capable of far worse than what she did to you. She’s done worse to Jake." 

"What, you mean that video they took for all their followers at the falls?” Cora added. “Shit talking about Maeve without mentioning her name? What did Jessica say, Mickey?"

Mickey's reply was instant. "It's just so petty, right?" he mocked her nasally voice, though he failed miserably. " But I'm the bigger person, and I wouldn't stop at that level." 

Rueben cussed, throwing his head back on his shoulders. "I can’t believe it, Jake was right." 

Natasha's eyes widened when Bob asked him what he meant. 

"I thought he was being an ass and flaunting it. But the morning after Maeve hurt her wrist when he went after Jessica, he whispered in my ear he thought Jess was trying to make a move on him…I guess he was right." 

Jessica blushed. Hard. And what could Ruben do next but close his eyes and shake his head? He didn’t want to believe Jake and had spent the rest of the trip trying to ignore his words. But with everything being revealed here and now, he felt utterly stupid. He had been blind to all of it. The nasty remarks, the advances on Jake. His girlfriend and her best friend bullying Maeve right under his nose.

"I'm not okay with how you treat people, Jess. How… how you’ve been treating me."

“Either you, Ronnie.” Javy pitched in, making her stare at him in shock. "You are just as bad. Why didn't I see this sooner, either?"

Veronica and Jessica shrank under their boyfriend's disappointed glares. Grace could only focus on Natasha, who had remained silent the entire time. Something was turning in her head—something that was clearly bothering her about the whole exchange. Grace wasn’t a vindictive person. She wasn’t even this forward. But she hoped, here and now, Natasha had seen the damage she had wrought and would want to change. 

But Natasha never owned up to it or apologized, neither did Jessica nor Veronica, though Grace honestly did not expect them to.

It was Mickey who finally broke the silence. His mind worked a mile a minute to piece together all the facts, trying to distract himself from all the fighting and tension. His words come tumbling out of his mouth of their own accord, his second nature of helping those in need his driving force. 

"The map was on the cliff, and there were prints—human or bear or both—but one set walking away, not two...." He paused, his eyes glazing over. "There's a high chance they went over. And survived."

"If they didn't, they probably would be back with us."

Bob didn't dare spare another glance at the rest of the group when he made that remark, but he did turn his head to Grace. Her eyes were already pleading with him. She didn't need to, for Bob already had the same ask on his mind.

Bob gave her a nod, letting the damaged map in his other hand drop to the ground. "Grace and I are going after them. Whether you want to join or not that's up to you. But Maeve deserves more than whatever the fuck all of you have been doing to her."

Grace silently joined him, threading her fingers through Bob's once at his side. Yet, she could only watch as the entire group stared at the ground.

“I’ll do it.”

Everyone saw Bradley stepping forward, standing before Bob and Grace. “They’re here because of me. Because they are my friends… and… I owe it to Maeve.”

Mickey and Cora shared a quick look, their eyes travelling in sync to how they gripped each other's hands. They wordlessly joined the other three, keeping the same gait and foot forward, not needing to say anything. It was clear from the moment they followed Grace that they were in this from the get-go.

"What would you like us to do?" Javy asked, gesturing to himself and then to Rueben. Then, in a silent message, his gaze extended toward the two girls holding each other in silent support at the edge of the group. Grace and Cora could see the silent message hidden in his words.

'How can we help and deal with these two at the same time?'

Anyone looking at those two knew of their upcoming fate, soon-to-be pallbearers of the title Ex-Girlfriends. Yet, Grace had a different thought emerge in her mind, which had her unable to separate them from the famous lines of a T.S. Elliot poem. 

Seeing them huddled together, holding on to each other and having witnessed them hanging on to each other’s actions by every thread they could find, they still believed they were not at fault. Vile threats and horrible words were being held back by something, though Grace couldn’t figure out what it was, nor did she want to. 

But those famous last lines flashed across her mind once again. 

This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper.

She didn't tear her eyes away when she answered his question; her response was solely directed at Jessica and Veronica. As the words flew out of her mouth without a second thought, she prayed this would be the last time they saw their faces. And that while she would forget about them, she hoped they would never forget what they had done to Maeve.

"I think it's best you and your little sick kicks go with Javy and Rueben and find a park ranger or return to the entrance and let them know what happened."

Rueben adjusted the straps of his bags when he asked, "What should we tell them when we say you went off after them?"

Bob shrugged his shoulders as if to say make something up. "Last I heard, getting lost in a national park isn't illegal."

But there singled out among the group left Natasha. She had been strangely quiet, watching everything with Jessica and Veronica unfold. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, and on the verge of tears, she was struggling to breathe.

Only Bradley was the one to approach her, though Grace couldn’t hide her wince when Bradley didn’t reach out to touch her. Not even once.

When Natasha’s eyes locked on Bradley’s, he didn’t even return her glance or lift his head. Her voice was strangled when she asked, “Does everyone hate me that much?”

Bradley didn’t hesitate. “Not Maeve. Not Really.”

She bit down on her lip, a breath escaping through her teeth. His reply made everything that much worse.

"It's the right thing to do. It'd be stupid not to acknowledge it, Nat. We dragged them out here," Bradley tried to encourage her.

A voice inside Bob's head screamed liar—Jake willingly came when he realized Maeve would be here. He wasn't dragged. Bradley was trying to share the blame. But even if he had some part to play, most of the burden didn't lie with him - and everyone who mattered knew that fact.

"If I am the first person to admit it, then so be it," Bradley continued. "We should have never come out here in the first place. It was selfish... and the ruined proposal? That one is on us, not them."

Natasha took a sharp, trembling breath, holding it longer than necessary. Her lungs strained against the effort, and she didn't realize why she resisted the urge to breathe until the need overwhelmed her. And even then, when she let it out and was forced to take that much-needed breath, her lungs ached under the strain.

"Did I somehow kill them both?"

Bradley didn't miss a beat when he offered, not unkindly, "If you did, then you have to live with it for the rest of your life."

Natasha winced at that, though Bradley didn't notice, staring down at his hands as he spoke. "But I intend to try to fix this while we can... if we still can."

She gulped, turning her head to stare at the ground, already turning green at his words. She nodded once—one single firm jut of her chin that had everyone suddenly preparing to set off into the bush. Natasha still tried to reach for Bradley, but he had already turned around to grab something from Rueben.

And it was then and there that Bradley's words hit her.

"Not Maeve."

But not not him.

She tried not to give into the weakness behind her knees at that.

So, she followed him without a word, without glancing up from the ground—not even when he offered to carry a bag of food gathered from the cooler or when Mickey offered to take Bob's pack so he could focus on the path ahead. Standing together, Cora and Grace didn't even spare Natasha a glance. The way their bodies were angled made it obvious she was not welcomed in the slightest.

It left Natasha lurking at the back of the forming group, the same place you had been for the past two days, the irony not lost on her.

Javy and Rueben said their goodbyes, leading Jessica and Veronica back down the hill without a word. And in that very moment, a determined boy scout led a firefighter, a nurse, a professional Quarterback, an altruistic protector, and a human being with a debatable guilty conscience out into the Washington wilderness to rescue their friends.

Yet, they knew that setting out into that forest, even if they found both of them alive and well, wouldn't be enough to mend the years of damage that had already been done.

"Let's go," Bob called out firmly. "They're either in trouble or, knowing those two, about to kill each other— Hell, it's probably both."

This isn't the last we see of this group <3

Tag List:

@desert-fern @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @kmc1989

@fanficfandomlove @hookslove1592 @dakotakazansky @cherrycola27

@teacupsandtopgun @lynnevanss @dizzybee03 @keyrani

@shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @dempy @stargazer-88

@alldaysdreamer @the-dark-and-mystery @bookchik15

@atarmychick007 @tinytotontheoversizedpony @buckysteveloki-me @wretchedmo

@redbarn1995 @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @yuckosworld @wren5650

@mrsevans90 @bellaireland1981 @tgmreader @halibshepherd

@essie1876 @formulafun @memoriesat30 @vicsnook

@eclecticfashionbookszipper @boisewaffles @eloquentdreamer @jessicab1991

@cinderellasmissingshoes @inky-sun @shanimallina87 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer

And for those who've been following along:

@i-wanna-be-your-muse @djs8891 @gigisimsonmars @blue-aconite

@wildlyfreemoon @eli2447 @rascallyrascalreads @djs8891

@multiverseprincess @isabelstardis @thefrenchbabe @miano7

@daggerspare-standingby

Taglist -> I've been off on here, so if you've messaged or commented and I haven't seen it, please let me know, and I will add you as so long as i am sticking around.

Lucky ☘️

[agendabymooner]

the leclerc daycare || cl16 fic

charles leclerc x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENTION TO OF LONG LINES AND NAMES

Summary: Charles Leclerc was a father first and a driver second. So maybe being left alone with Hervé, Jules and PJ for the night wouldn't be much of an issue. OR Aimee Leclerc travelled with her sisters and Charles got a firsthand experience of watching his kids by himself (alongside his kids’ uncles Esteban and Pierre).

Content warning: dad!Charles centric, fatherhood, mentions of pregnancy, dad!F1 Drivers x OFCs appearance (Hearth sisters!OFCs), Uncle Estie and Uncle Pierre, doubts of being a good parent, shitty French translations by Apple, wtf is beta reading

Note: Dad Charles, Dad Charles, Dad Charles content enjoy xx

masterlist

Aimee and her sisters were known for being extroverts with introverted tendencies. They communicated with anyone who’d approach them and more often than not, would keep in contact with them in case of any business. 

They didn’t like hanging out with them, as much though. Not as much as they preferred being around their sisters. Aimee, especially, didn’t enjoy being around new people— not as often as any other person would. She would much rather be around her sisters or her husband and his mates. Having three kids, with another two on the way, did something about her interest in socializing with other people. It was fairly limited before until she began attending playdates or programs for toddlers that allowed her children to make friends with others — interacting with parents was common. 

Regardless, going out for two days was different — especially when her sister, Sylvie, was wanting to celebrate her engagement before she gets married in a month. Much like the other two sisters, they preferred a day out without any friends. Just the four of them, chatting each other’s ears off. Aimee Leclerc was alright with that.

“Je ne veux pas que maman parte!” I don’t want Mummy to leave. 

The littles, though, weren’t alright with that. Jules cried his eyes out the moment he saw Aimee dressed in some satin dress. She had a weekender bag next to her vanity, the boy picking up on the fact that his mother was leaving. 

It was Charles’ week off before the next race, and rather than going to Maranello, he deliberately made the choice to stay at home and do his sim practices instead. After all, Aimee had been at home for weeks rather than traveling with McLaren during the races due to her pregnancy. The wonders of having remote work, right? 

“J,” Charles shushed his son softly, playing with the soft curls of his mini’s hair. Jules continued to cry as he wrapped his arms around Charles’ neck. “Maman n'est pas sortie pour s'amuser. Ne pensez-vous pas qu'elle mérite de s'amuser?” Mummy hasn’t gone out to have fun. Don’t you think she deserved to have fun? 

Then another little babbling came along as Hervé clung to Charles’ leg. “Elle peut s'amuser ici. Papa dit à maman qu'elle peut s'amuser ici!” She can have fun here. Daddy, tell Mummy she can have fun here. Hervé cried too, sobbing as they stood in front of the shut bathroom door. 

Aimee put down her mascara and sighed quietly. How the heck was she going to go if her sons were crying like this? The only reason why she’d managed to be roped into nights off before was because Pascale Leclerc had managed to kick her and Charles out of the house before. The boys loved their Mamé and their uncles. 

Pascale wouldn’t see them until this afternoon and their uncles were definitely not going to go until they got back from work. It was only 6:45 in the morning. 

How the hell were Hervé and Jules awake at this time, anyway? They liked to sleep, so how they managed to get the hell out of their bedroom at this time of the day was a mystery.

Aimee then remembered what her sister said. Intuition. Aimee was the same back when her sister was eighteen and heading to university in the morning. Two year old Aimee would wake up just to say good morning then dash off to have breakfast with the other sisters. So maybe her twins had the kind of intuition when someone’s leaving. 

She didn’t think that their reaction would be like this in the morning. 

“Oui, but my littles,” Charles crouched down to speak to both his kids, “do you know how Papa’s been working a lot and Maman has been home to have fun with you?” 

Hervé and Jules sniffled, but nodded nonetheless. Charles continued, “Papa has fun at work, but it’s Papa’s time to have time with you. Maman deserves to see what’s out there that she can have fun with.”

“We can go out to have fun with Maman!” Hervé cried out, protesting against Charles’ proposal. 

“Maman will go somewhere littles can’t go,” Charles told the boys. “How about we have some breakfast and make sure the babies are eating too before Maman goes, hm? Make some breakfast so Maman will be happy and be full of your looove by making her food?” 

“Maman sera-t-elle heureuse si nous lui faisons à manger?” Will Mummy be happy if we make her food? Jules asked, the two of them no longer crying. Thank god for that otherwise PJ, their two year old brother, would see it and somehow make himself comfortable at the tear train. 

Charles grinned at his boys and nodded, “Oui. Maybe we can make her some chicken and waffles— last I heard, the babies want some chicken.” 

Jules wiped his tears away and exclaimed, “Okay! I help, Papa! Herb! Come!” Then ran off the couple’s bedroom, his twin brother hot on his heels as Hervé dashed off. 

Charles watched the boys run out and winced, hoping PJ wouldn’t wake up to the loud footsteps made by the older kids as he slumped against the wall by the bathroom. 

The door swung open next to him, making him look as Aimee stepped out with a sheepish smile. He approached her carefully and wrapped his arms around her, his hands trailing down the protrusion of her stomach as he sighed, “I hope these two wouldn’t be that much trouble to handle.” 

“Hmm,” Aimee hummed happily, taking his hand to kiss the palm of it. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” 

Charles scoffed as if Aimee was questioning his superman abilities to stay sane. “I’ve been driving a Ferrari for god knows how long,” he joked, kissing her temple as his other hand continued to caress her stomach. “I’ve gone way past my sanity line. Don’t worry about the three, oui?” 

“I’m not worried about your minis,” Aimee giggled, “I’m more worried about you. You’re most likely to go mad once you realize PJ likes a little bit of mischief with Herb and J.” 

“As I said,” Charles rolled his eyes, peering down at her as he continued, “I’m no longer sane. I think I’ll be able to find composure.” 

The breakfast definitely DID NOT show all of that. Because by the time Charles reached the kitchen, an egg was already cracked open on the floor. Not only that, but Hervé and Jules’ tanned faces (alongside their jammies) were covered in waffle mix after they’ve both dropped the bag of mix on the floor. 

But their breakfast wasn’t that much of a disaster, to say the least. In between Aimee’s cooking and the boys’ morning shower, they somehow managed to find some time to eat breakfast. PJ had already woken up when Charles’ voice turned loud enough at the shock just as he stepped into the kitchen. Trying to get him to eat his fruits wasn’t as difficult. He was angelic of all the Leclercs that both Pascale and Aimee had given birth to. 

“C’mon, mon chou, last one for Daddy,” Charles opened his mouth wide, trying to get PJ to mimic the action. PJ followed his father, his mouth opening as Charles made airplane noises, his hand twirling around while it held a slice of banana stabbed into a silicone fork. It didn’t take long for the food to land on the toddler’s mouth as he kicked his feet in enthusiasm. 

“Tu vois? C'est de la bonne nourriture, n'est-ce pas?” See? It’s good food, don’t you think so? Charles asked his youngest, making the boy nod. “Good boy, PJ.” 

Charles turned to look at his twins, who both stood on their two step stools next to their mother as they watched Aimee wash their dishes. Aimee was apparently teaching them how to do their dishes as she said, “Then when it’s clean, you just put it right here.” 

“What’s this called, Maman?” Hervé pointed at the display next to the sink. 

“It’s a dish rack,” Aimee replied.

“Rack? What does the rack do?” Jules asked, his curious voice making Charles grin to himself. His boys were quite inquisitive about anything. Whenever they’re out, Hervé could point at something and ask. Jules would often follow after Hervé asked. 

And it wasn’t anything worrying. Charles and Aimee loved it when they asked a lot, because they had a lot to answer. It’s always a joy to answer their children’s curiosities. 

“That’s where you leave the plates after cleaning them,” Aimee answered, now drying her hands on the towel. “It’s to make sure they dry. You don’t eat on wet plates do you?” 

“Yuck,” Hervé and Jules pulled a face. “No wet food!” 

“Exactly,” Aimee grinned, looking up to see Charles staring at her and their kids lovingly. She then asked, “Are you enjoying your time staring, love?” 

Charles shook himself out of his thoughts and said, “Yeah. Mr. Sacha is done with his breakfast too.” 

“Oh? He finished it?” Aimee peered down at PJ, “how did you like it, my little bug?” 

Aimee didn’t like that nickname at first. PJ had only earned that nickname after everyone learned that she’d gotten more sick with him than she did with the twins, and Esteban joked that her baby was a literal stomach bug. But after some convincing (with the help of Esteban and Mick, dressing PJ as a grasshopper for his first halloween), Aimee finally caved in. PJ was her little bug.

“Little bug loved it well,” Charles grinned, lifting PJ out of his high chair and grabbed the empty plate. He placed down the dirty dish into the sink as Hervé and Jules’ eyes gleamed in excitement. “Boys, let Papa do it later. Maman’s going soon. Who’s coming to pick you up again?” 

“All three of them, once that Tils’ picked up Stevie and Sylv.”

“Oh,” he replied, “so is anybody dropping off their car to use yours or…” 

“No,” Aimee scoffed. “No one’s touching any of my cars. You are using the SUV, no?”

“That’s kinda assumed already,” Charles replied, “I just thought you’d use your… actually never mind.”

While their family expanded largely over the past few years, their garage did too. Much like her sisters, Aimee had a collection of cats hidden away to avoid being burglarized. Everyone knew about Charles’ custom Pista and the family SUV that they had — an Aston Martin. But they didn’t seem as phased as they were when they found out that Aimee had a vintage Mini Cooper and a coated copper McLaren 765LT hidden somewhere in their family home.

So really… Charles assumed that they’d borrow either one of their hidden gems for the trip as Aimee’s Cooper was often used than Stevie’s military green LaFerrari or Sylvie’s orange Cadillac. 

“The poor Cooper’s been treated like a bus for the past few months,” Aimee snorted. “You know I wouldn’t allow them to drive it either.” 

The ring on the doorbell had woken up something within the twins as they both squealed and bolted to the door, leaving Charles to yell, “Boys, don’t open the door without— damn it!” 

“Charles!” “Sorry! No swearing!”

He then returned to the dining area with Hervé being carried by Aimee’s eldest sister Tilly and Jules with Sylvie. Stevie followed behind as they greeted Aimee, “Morning, Aims! Excited for a good two day vacation?” 

“Oh am I ever,” Aimee rolled her eyes, gesturing at her husband, “he’s a different story.” 

Sylvie raised a brow and spoke amusedly, “You having fun yet, Charles?”

“I am,” Charles waved off Sylvie’s joking tone, “I’ll be fine.” 

“Don’t worry you’ll be fine,” Stevie chuckled, “even Lewis is running a daycare at home.” 

“Aun’ ‘Teve,” PJ toddled his way towards Stevie and tugged on her trousers, “L’land?” 

Stevie peered down at her little nephew — who was the same age as her youngest, Leland, and cooed, “Leland is at home with Uncle Lew and Lotlot, little bug. Maybe you’ll see him sometime today.” 

“Ah speaking of,” Tilly started, looking at Charles now as she said, “I think Lewis and Toto are planning to take the kids out today for the… indoor playground cafe. I’m sure they’ll be happy to have more kids and an extra pair of hands to come along.” 

“Oh nice, more kids,” Charles’ face didn’t even show how nice the thought was. 

“Good luck taking care of eight kids lads,” Sylvie winked, huffing out a laugh after Aimee nudged her a little bit too hard. “I’d offer Max but he isn’t here. I’m sure Arthur and Lorenzo would be more than happy to help!” 

That was a lie. Maybe Lorenzo would help a lot, but Arthur… Now Arthur was a good uncle, but he often leaned more into the chill uncle side than the kind who would somehow watch his words around the kids.

And so when the Leclerc boys saw the matriarch off to Stevie’s Bentayga (while Charles continued to remind his wife’s sisters that she was pregnant — practically warning them not to be stupid about driving), he immediately pulled his phone out to text the only people who’d be more than willing to go less sane with the kids.

Charles: Are you up for some insanity? Aimee’s out for today to tomorrow afternoon.

Esteban: What’s in it for me?

Pierre: He just said insanity.

Pierre: I hope you have enough room in your AM.

Charles: Fuck. I guess I’m taking out the Cadillac.

Charles: Will anyone help me take them out of the garage and help me move the boys’ seats to the other SUV?

Esteban: 👍

Pierre: 👌

Esteban Ocon showed up an hour earlier than Pierre did. When he did, he brought along a small gym bag full of his overnight clothes. Alongside his clothes were boxes of Spider-Man figures. Not everyday Esteban got to share his love for Marvel to anyone, and he could help but jump at the chance to introduce No Way Home to the Leclerc boys.

Now, he was in the kitchen, teaching the Leclerc littles how to operate the oven as they baked some chocolate chip cookie dough that they found in the deep depths of the freezer. Perhaps it was a bad idea to have Esteban come over, because he was prone to ruining their diets with his love for pastries. 

It was quarter to ten when Pierre finally arrived, with his own overnight bag and… a pile of children’s books? Charles wasn’t sure if he was seeing things right, but then the Frenchman pulled up a pop-up book version of Dr. Seuss from the pile as Charles groaned quietly. 

“Ils ont déjà beaucoup de livres, Pierre,” they already have a lot of books, Pierre. Charles told the man when he raised a brow.

“It never hurts for more,” Pierre shrugged, “how did you think PJ learned to speak a lot at this age? He won’t be chatty if it wasn’t for his Oncle P.” 

“You only started to get them books because you don’t know how baby sizes work,” Charles told him with a roll of his eyes, shutting the door behind Pierre as they both walked towards the living room.

Charles raised his brow when Pierre settled his bag down on the couch, leaving Pierre to say, “I’d head up to the guest room but I want to see the boys first,” there was a moment of silence between the two of them and in the background played the boys’ daily phonics songs. “Sick beats, by the way.” 

The pair headed off to the kitchen, where they found Hervé, Jules and PJ chatting away with their Uncle Estie. The last conversation Charles heard was about the track in Canadian GP, with Hervé saying “The turn there— what is that? Pin? Papa says is pin! It’s wooooosh~ woah, it’s so small, Oncle E!” 

“Sharp,” Estie’s signature grin returned to his face as he corrected the boy gently, “the hairpin is sharp, Herb.”

“‘Airpin?” Jules’ head cocked to the side, “I hear my cousin Tia say that!” 

“Because that’s what they use for long hairs,” Esteban replied. 

“What? All talks, no love for Oncle P?” The three toddlers turned towards the direction of the voice as they grinned widely. PJ, thank god for Charles’ reflex, had jumped off the kitchen island and ran towards his namesake. Pierre Gasly nearly tipped over at the suddenly thud on his legs as he grunted, lifting PJ up to his arms as he hugged the boy tight. “Good morning, Little P! How’s my handsome boy doing?” 

“Good, Oncle P!” PJ grinned. “Maman est partie!” Mummy left!

The enthusiasm in his tone broke Charles out of his trance as he laughed. “Sacha, why do you sound happy about Maman leaving?”

“Because she has fun!” Jules reasoned out on behalf of his brother, making PJ nodded eagerly.

And while the two were celebrating the thought, Charles looked at Hervé as he began sobbing quietly. Esteban’s eyes widened, not knowing how to react as the boy began wailing. Tears endlessly flowed out of Hervé’s eyes as he covered them with his forearm. 

“Oh no,” Charles sighed quietly. Esteban quickly recovered from shock and immediately lifted Hervé off the counter, allowing the boy to soak his shirt with his tears. 

Out of the three boys, Hervé was the only one who took the information to heart. The Leclerc kids were loved by both Aimee and Charles — but Hervé, out of the three, loved Aimee more than anything. He often clung to her like a koala on a tree, and when they’re out and about — Hervé would often hold hands with her more than he would with his Papa. It wasn’t a shock that Charles would witness his eldest cry at the absence of his Maman. 

Jules, who was sitting on the counter, stood on the marble surface and reached up to pat his twin on the back carefully. He then said, “t’s okay, Herb!” He wasn’t even sure if Hervé could hear him, but all Jules seemed to care about was comforting his brother.

“Are you sad because Maman’s gone for the day?” Esteban asked, and all he got was a nod in his neck. That, and maybe a wet patch of tears on his neck now. “Okay, okay. Is there anything Papa or your uncles can help you with that can make you feel better.”

“Maman—“ Hervé stuttered, still crying in Estie’s arms.

“Yeah, but Maman’s not here, H,” Estie replied. “What if you show us what can help you feel better? Or do you want Oncle E to help?” 

Hervé’s reddened face looked up at Esteban and nodded. “Yeah? You want me to help? Or everyone?” 

“I know!” Jules jumped, making Charles reach close to his son with a mutter of ‘Careful, J.’ 

Hervé turned to his twin as Jules exclaimed, “Princess and Frog!” 

“T’ana!” PJ squealed aloud. Hervé’s eyes brightened, all thanks to the suggestion that his brothers proposed not to his tears. Hervé nodded before he wiped his tears away and asked Estie to put him down, to which the man obliged as Charles helped Jules hop off the counter and led the Leclerc littles to the family room. 

The adults look at each other. “There will be a lot of that,” Charles smiled meekly. 

“Not a bother,” Esteban waved off with a chuckle.

“I need to put my bags upstairs,” Pierre nudged Charles lightly. “Before craziness even begins.”

The oven goes off at the same time, leaving Esteban to turn away and return to the kitchen as he said, “I’ll leave this to cool off. You need help moving cars, you said?” 

“Yes please,” Charles replied, following his boys to the living room as they navigated through the Disney app. 

He then heard Estie say, “Can I drive her Mc—“

“I can’t let you drive the McLaren, sorry,” Charles interrupted Estie before he could continue on.

Charles: Hey! Are you and Toto still taking the kids out today? 

Lewis: Hey Charles! Yeah we’re taking them out today. If we’re gonna get heart attacks we can at least do it together. You in? 

Charles: Pierre and Estie would come along, if you don’t mind? 

Lewis: Five against eight? We’re still outnumbered. But yea, of course! 

Charles: Haha!

One of the joys of having children was the opportunity to dress them. The same could be said for Charles. They always said that it was hard having to dress boys, and while that remained true, it didn’t discourage the Ferrari driver from dressing his boys up whether they’re going out or heading to bed. 

He could admit that he couldn’t dress for shit, but it didn’t mean that he’d do the same to his kids. 

Neither he and Aimee believed that Jules and Hervé should be dressed the same whenever they’re out because they were twins. In fact, they thought that it would be a bit too confusing for them. At the very beginning of their lives, they were always dressed differently. 

The same could be said for today. Hervé was dressed in a Ralph Lauren denim button up and some denim shorts, his hair tied loosely to a bun to avoid his soft curls getting in the way of his face. 

Jules, however, was dressed in a white tee (with the infamous Burberry pattern sewn as a pocket) and khaki shorts while his hair was merely brushed back. Esteban Ocon was quite proud of his work of art. 

Sacha Leclerc, or PJ, had opted for a soft pink shirt with the Ralph Lauren polo logo on its left chest and some denim shorts with Mickey Mouse embroidered all over the place. He beamed at his Oncle P proudly, immensely proud of his decision to dress like this. Pierre Gasly merely high fived him, proud of his godchild for no reason. He was just proud. 

No one was prouder than Pascale Leclerc, though. Just as her hair salon opened and the boys (and the men) took a ten minute trip there, she gasped at the sight of her grandchildren. 

“Oh mon! Qui sont ces beaux garçons ? S'agit-il de mes petits-enfants?” Oh my! Who are these handsome boys? Are these my grandchildren? Pascale squealed, excusing herself from her receptionist as she knelt down to get on the level of the toddlers. “You three are always soooo handsome! Did Papa dress you?” 

Esteban and Pierre cackled on the side, leaving Charles to look at his mother with an unamused expression. Pascale giggled. It was a running joke in the family that Charles was shit at dressing himself, and when Aimee got married into the family it got even worse — with Arthur starting the chaos with, “Can you believe that, Charles? Two models for sisters-in-law and another who worked for Vogue and you’re still dressed like this?” 

“I sure hope not,” Pierre continued behind Charles, leaving the Monegasque to kick his best friend.

“I did!” Jules grinned proudly. “I dress up myself, Mamé!” 

“I did too!” Hervé raised his hand, catching the attention of his grandmother. PJ babbled along and told her that he too had dressed himself. 

“Wow! Such big boys, you are!” Pascale exclaimed, pulling out her phone to stand up. “Can you smile big for Mamé? Say cheese.”

“Cheeseeee~” the three grinned heavily as Pascale took a photo of the three. Typing for a good second, she finally put her phone away and looked at Charles and his fellow grid mates. 

“I sent it to Aimee’s mothers,” Pascale explained herself as the men nodded.

“What are you up to today?” Pascale asked. “I heard the girls are out for today and tomorrow?” 

“They’re going to stay in Cannes for the day,” Charles replied before leaning towards his mother and whispered, “Hervé cried twice today, Maman and I’m worried he’s not going to sleep tonight because Aimee’s not here.”

Pascale let out a quick snort and shrugged it off, “Yes he would,” she reassured him with a pat on the head. “He managed to sleep well when you two were out for the weekend.” 

“But that’s with you, Maman,” Charles looked back to find Esteban and Pierre preoccupied with the kids as he continued, “What if the three of them won’t settle because I haven’t been around them for too long and I haven’t put them to bed before? Hervé cried because of his Maman. He sees Aimee more than he does me so—“

“Charles, pause,” Pascale grabbed her son on both of his shoulders and shook him out of his thoughts. “Take a deep breath.” The middle Leclerc man obliged, heaving a deep sigh as his mother told him, “He won’t make things hard for you, Charles. He’s not crying because he likes Aimee more than you, but it’s only because he’s going to have to adjust for tonight. Kids, when they’re outside their routine, act differently when they have to follow a new one — so he’s not acting like that because you’re the one who’s with him tonight.” 

“Hervé loves you, Charles,” Pascale told him softly. “With how he proudly wears your number on his shirt and his jackets, and how he brags about his Papa in the red car, I think I can say that he loves you so much. He will never ever make things hard for you with Aimee not being here for today— or for all those times she wouldn’t be there. So, don’t worry about it. Just don’t make things hard for him either. Try to make sure he’s comfortable with adjusting his routine. Make sure that your children are feeling comfortable with the thought of doing things differently than usual.” 

Charles glanced back at his kids, the pressure on his shoulders long gone as he nodded at Pascale. “Merci, Maman.” 

“Yeah of course,” Pascale giggled quietly. “I’ve always wondered the same when your father was gone. Look where I am now. Look at where you are now. The boys just need to adjust a little, Charles. Just make sure you’re there to guide them if needed.” 

Lewis Hamilton and Toto Wolff were rarely at Monaco, these days. 

After Lewis retired, he thought of selling his house in Monaco. Being a father was what he wanted and clearly, while he was still fit for a celebrity lifestyle he resorted to being a quiet and reserved man. His 5-acre estate in Warwickshire showed something of serenity, their home surrounded by nothing but woods and a river nearby. He was content with being at home with his children while his wife Stevie continued to work as a model and Ferrari’s communications director. He preferred the quiet while he taught his daughter phonemes, and it was clear to everyone he abandoned his flat in Monaco. Now the flat served as his vacation home whenever his family would go on a holiday and see their cousins. 

The same goes to Toto. He hadn’t retired as a team principal yet, but his Monaco place no longer held the same value as his estate in Brackley. One of his kids was already eleven (already in year nine) and playing in his school’s association football team and the other (nine years old) had been entering karting tournaments around England almost every weekend. He once told Charles about his estate and how he had it purchased and renovated long before his eldest son with Tilly even existed — how well he valued his home there and wouldn’t exchange it for Monaco or Austria. Much like Lewis, he was content with his home there, and it didn’t help that the Mercedes factory was only a few minutes away from his home. Toto expressed his interest in selling his house in Monaco once that his vintage Mercedes was moved back to Brackley, but then his nephews were born (and were planned to be raised in Monaco). He then decided that it was a home to go to whenever his kids wanted to see the Leclerc kids — their cousins. 

So after everyone started talking about Lewis Hamilton and Toto Wolff no longer residing in Monaco and their rare appearance in the streets of the principality, it never came as a shock to anyone anymore. It was still rare, but it was expected. 

But the sight of the two, alongside the three current drivers that just sat along the older ones, would be considered hilarious and extra special for the fans. Because not everyday you get to see two Mercedes personnel casually hanging out with a Ferrari driver and two Alpine drivers. At least, not with the two Alpine drivers while they all sat on a cozy indoor playground and cafe in Monte-Carlo. It wasn’t everyday you get to see Toto Wolff and the drivers talk about the racing season while they all sip on some silly cat and animal-themed cups with their kids running amuck in the playing area. 

Toto’s two older kids were somewhere else, and Charles could only assume that they were at the football area. None of his kids were crying yet, and so he sat there relaxed as he listened to whatever Lewis was talking about. 

“Did you really allow Aimee to go with the girls?” Lewis asked Charles, making the Monegasque nod. “You could’ve said no, that way they’re just stuck here in Monaco.”

“She’ll be fine,” Charles was beginning to think that he was only saying those words to reassure himself, not others. “She hasn’t been out for a while.”

“They still could have found something here,” Lewis pointed out.

Charles rolled his eyes, “That’s true. But Aimee lives here, she knows every curb to avoid and I don’t think I don’t want to bore her to death.” 

“Besides,” Charles shrugged nonchalantly, “I don’t want her to think I’m trying to lock her up by making her stay in Monaco all the time.”

“She’s your wife,” Pierre brought up.

“She’s my boys’ Maman, but she’s also been working her ass off trying to keep them happy while I’m gone someplace else,” Charles couldn’t find himself to argue, only telling them what the men needed to hear, “the least I can do is to let her travel the same way I do almost every week.”

“She loves the boys, that’s why her work in McLaren’s now remote,” Toto nodded, reaching on his pastel donut cat cup as he sipped on his tea, “I appreciate you for recognizing that.” 

“It’s the only thing I can do besides spend my time with the kids,” Charles replied, looking around to find his kids as Hervé came dashing and jumping into the ball pit of the soft play area. Hervé’s head popped up from the ball pit as he grinned, finding his father watching as he waved enthusiastically. Charles grinned and waved back before he turned back to the men, “I don’t think I’ll ever regret spending my time with them. If anything, I regret leaving Aimee behind while I go away to race. Lessens my time with the boys.” 

TWO MERCEDES, A FERRARI AND TWO ALPINES WALK INTO A CAFE: The Popular Fathers of F1 were seen on some Father-Children day out in Monte-Carlo.

“Hamilton, Leclerc and Wolff = Fathers of the Year? PLUS, a surprise appearance of Uncles Esteban Ocon and Pierre Gasly included in this article!” 

THE MONTE-CARLO DADDY DAYCARE: These might be the best photos taken of Lewis Hamilton, Toto Wolff and Charles Leclerc yet!

“Where’s Max Verstappen? Oh, and HI ESTIE BESTIE AND PEAR!” 

THE HEARTH HUSBANDS: How Toto Wolff, Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc made the best husband materials ever through these photos.

“Max Verstappen, maybe it’s your time to shine, too!”

Aimee: I’m gonna go to sleep now but omg those photos of you and the other two are so funny haha!!! I’ll talk to you more about it tomorrow, but the babies wanted to say goodnight my love :)

Charles: I’ll tell you so much about the boys’ playdate tomorrow. Sleep well, mon cœur ❤️

Aimee: Give them kisses for me?

Charles: Already did for you. Now sleep.

Aimee: Sleep well, my love 

“Papa?” At first, Charles wanted to fall back asleep at the sound. He thought that he was just dreaming. His dream was literally just about baking those cookies— and with the call of Papa he assumed that he was just being called by the boys from the living room. 

Then he felt a small soft hand on his cheek, making his eyes open slowly as he witnessed his three sons standing there. He sat himself up a little, stretching as he asked, “H, Jules? PJ? What’re you boys doing up?” 

“Nous ne pouvons pas dormir parce que maman ne nous a pas embrassés,” we can’t sleep because Mummy didn’t give us a hug. Jules said as quietly as he could, swinging his body back and forth while he clung onto his Lotso bear. 

PJ pulled his hand back from holding Charles’ face as he meekly stood there, still sucking on the pacifier. 

Hervé nodded at Jules’ comment and sheepishly asked, “Can we sleep here, Papa?”

PJ pulled the pacifier off and added, “Pwease?” 

Charles shook himself out of his thoughts. He was still feeling a bit hazy after being woken up by his kids at… two in the morning. These kids really have a bad habit of waking up in the most inconvenient time. 

But just as he was looking down at his kids, who still stood at his side of the bed, he couldn’t help but smile softly. He might not be Aimee to make them feel comfortable enough to go to sleep after being given a hug, but the least he could do was be there for them. 

Looking back at today’s events, he seemed to be content with the result of his plans and his kids’ reaction towards it. Sure, Hervé might’ve cried for the first three hours, but he soon got comfortable at the thought of spending time with his Papa while Aimee was somewhere else and away from them. PJ proudly dressed himself up and decided what to wear by himself. Jules comforted Hervé when his twin got sad. He was nothing but proud of his boys. He was hella proud of himself.

And he loved his boys so much that he couldn’t deny them anything. Now that he thought of it, it was even harder to deny them anything because Aimee wasn’t here. He was just happy they hadn’t asked for sugar before bed. 

He grinned at his boys and patted the empty spot next to him, hoisting PJ up while he said, “Alright. Up we go then, boys. Let’s go get some good sleep.”

It’s safe to say that the Leclerc daycare went well today. That was a major achievement for Charles. Thank god for his mother and other peer support, right?

[ihavethedreamies]

Best Friend's Brother | Doyoung

Kim Dongyoung (Doyoung - NCT 127)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.4k

Pairing: Doyoung x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Like 5 years, reader is 19 and he's 24), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Fingering, Spanking (once or twice), Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Author's Note: I wrote this a long time ago and had it saved somewhere else and totally forgot about it till the other day, lol. I Beta-ed it myself but there might be some errors still.

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You had always had eyes for your friend's brother. It was nearly impossible not to give the fact that he was simultaneously the cutest and hottest thing on the face of the earth. There were times where Doyoung would smile or laugh and you heart would melt; the other times he would get angry or annoyed, and THAT look…made your ovaries explode. His broad shoulders and narrow build appealed to you more than the ripped guys you'd meet at the gym. You did always wonder what he had hiding under there though, because every time you were at the pool, he either didn’t get in or wore a shirt…Though, the wet fabric clinging to his body didn’t leave too much to the imagination. The worst part though, was that your best friend knew EVERYTHING. And she would tease you mercilessly for it. She was never disgusted by your crush on her brother; however, she requested to never have to see anything between the two of you. Fat chance at anything happening though. To him, you were like another little sister. You had been friends with his actual sister for many, many years, and he probably still saw you as the toothless six-year-old that hit him in the head with a plastic baseball bat. It wasn’t on purpose of course, but he, and his sister, never let you live it down.

Luckily, since he was five years older, there was never a point where you two were at the same school. You weren’t sure you could handle all the stares and attention he got from other girls, because he for damn sure got it. You remembered one valentine's day the amount of chocolates and notes he brought home from school. The year after you had decided to make chocolates for him yourself, but when they turned out terribly misshapen -still tasty- you ate them yourself.

Little did he know, you had a framed picture with him on your vanity…Not in a creepy way. It was from a few summers back where your group of friends had gone camping and he went along with some of his friends to basically chaperone. Therefore, there were other people in the picture, not just him. Your favorite part of it was that he is standing behind you with that beautiful smile, his hand resting on your head. Right after the picture was taken, he ruffled your hair, then dispersed with the rest of the group. That night, several of your friends flirted and joked with his friends, but you and he sat aside, watching the shenanigans. You were both exhausted but would be teased endlessly if you went to bed, so you sat together under a tree watching the fireflies. It wasn’t until later that you had found out you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he fell asleep with his head resting on yours. Rumor had it, your best friend had a picture, but refused to show you. She claimed she needed it for when she did something otherwise unforgivable and needed an out.

One day you were over at her apartment, both of you studying on a hot late-spring day, the open windows allowing for a nice breeze to waft through. Her apartment was settled above her aunt's bakery and so she got a discount on rent. Since their aunt and uncle had no children themselves, Doyoung was set to inherit the business in a few years. On nice days, they would sit outside and offer samples and coupons to people walking by, and his beautiful face always drew people in like flies. It was honestly amazing to listen to him chuckle and converse with customers, but also distracted you from your studies. Often your friend would catch you, eyes closed, reveling in listening to him, daydreaming.

"Yah! Get to work." She tapped the end of her pencil on your notebook.

"Sorry." You snapped out of it and got back to taking notes. Summer break was approaching, which meant so were finals. Not too worried about it you realized you might gain a reason to be if you continued to drift off into Doyoung land. It had become soon to closing time for the bakery, staying open till about six pm that time of year. You decided to take a break and got off the floor to pace her apartment. The remnants of the food you had delivered had been put in the refrigerator and the dishes had long since been picked up by the delivery boy. Opening the fridge, you scan through it, feeling a bit snacky but not sure what you wanted. You also had a bad habit of opening the fridge when in the kitchen even if you weren’t hungry. Going to the small balcony, you leaned on the railing to watch Doyoung sweeping in front of the store and wiping tables down. The sleeves of his white button-up were rolled to above his elbow, and his jeans were perfectly hugging-

"How's studying going?" His voice startled you and your eyes moved from his ass to his eyes. He was looking up at you like a curious bunny and it was the cutest freaking-

"Uh, it's going." You huffed a small laugh awkwardly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.

"Do you need any help?" He asked and you blinked back. Should you take the opportunity? You really didn’t need help…You glanced behind you at the pile of books and papers on the table, as well as his sister conked out, drooling on her homework.

"Uh, yes please. I'll be right down!" You called as quietly as you could for him to still hear you, but not wake her up, and shuffled back inside to grab your study materials. Your sandals flapped on the stairs as you descended the outside staircase and moved to meet him out front.

"Let's go sit inside, it’s a bit cooler." He smiled and motioned for you to follow. He closed the doors, flipped the sign to closed, and you found a table. There were only three small tables inside, so you had to put some of your stuff on the windowsill next to you. He removed his apron - dear lord his buttons were STRUGGLING - and moved the chair from across to next to you.

"What class are you studying for right now?" He asked.

"Advanced World History." You weren’t exactly having trouble, but it was the hardest class you needed to study for. His eyes widened then he blinked at you.

"You're, what, a second year? I could have never at nineteen." He shook his head.

"Can you now?" You asked and he laughed. Your heart thudded so hard it's like she fell over the railing of a balcony.

"I can try…I should have asked what class before I offered." He huffed a nervous laugh.

"Well, maybe you can just help me go over the study guide. You know, make sure I know what I'm talking about." You handed him a green-paper packet and he turned his chair to face you better, leaning back into it. He began to go over questions, and you answered, but he tripped you up. You had memorized them in order, and he was reading off at random. This meant you had to actually know what the answer was instead of relying on repetition.

"Daeng! Try again!" He eyed you over the top of the paper playfully. You crinkled your nose, thinking.

"You're so cute." he whispered, but you heard it. Your head shot up to stare at him, and realization crossed his face that he said it out loud. You expected him to brush it off as some little sister thing, but his cheeks and ears turned a bright red.

"I'm cute? Me? No, no, you're cute." You had no idea where the confident flirtation came from, but you were dead serious. He blinked at you again.

"Cute." You pointed at him. Your deadpan stare and serious tone caught him off guard. He cleared his throat nervously and wouldn’t meet your eye.

"Next question." You waved the situation off, screaming inside. It was like you were having an out-of-body-experience and your filter had been removed, letting him your instinctual thoughts.

"You really think I'm cute?" He put the paper down, sitting up straight.

"You are the cutest thing on the face of the earth." Once again, you were completely serious. His whole face bloomed red, and he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to hide his giddy smile.

"Come on, keep going, we didn’t finish." You pushed the paper toward him, but he just glanced at it.

"Questions." You poked the paper.

"How long have you thought I was cute?" He put his hand down, the embarrassment dissipating and turning to smugness.

"Forever, continue." Paper was shoved. Finally, he picked up the packet and when his face was hidden, you released a rush of air to try and calm down.

"On a level of one to ten, how cute am I?" Man, he was like a dog with a bone. You rolled your eyes.

"Eleven."

"How long have you liked me?" That threw you off a bit.

"I never said I liked you-" You tried to play it off. He put the packet down.

"You think I'm cute." He smirked.

"Puppies are cute, bunnies are cute, you are cute. In what world does that mean I like you?"

"Why do you have the hoodie I lost a few years ago in your closet?"

"H-how did you know about that?"

"Saw it in the picture on your story when you were modeling the animal onesies you two got to match."

"It could have been any red hoodie; how did you know it's yours?"

"I didn’t…not until now. Plus… it’s way too big." He smirked and your violent intentions flared to life.

"You little shit!" You scolded and he guffawed. You were sure your face was as red as that sweatshirt.

"How did you even get it?" He questioned and you exhaled harshly.

"I was at your house when it was just me and your sister. We had ordered pizza, but I was in my bathing suit since we were playing with the hose outside in the heat. The doorbell rang and I wasn’t answering the door in my school swimsuit, so I grabbed the first thing out of the clean laundry I could find." You shared and he hummed.

"Just you in my hoodie, hm?" His gaze had changed, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

"Oh, hush, pervert." You mumbled, glancing out the window at the setting sun. You heard the chair scrape on the floor, then felt him standing next to you, close enough to feel his warmth. Turning to glare up at him, your neck cracked having to bend back too far. He was so close. If you breathed too deeply your chest would brush against him. That thought made your breath hitch. Do not breathe. However, the air was stolen from your lungs when his hands, his BEAUTIFUL hands, cupped your jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered, his lips already slightly touching yours.

"Ye-" You didn’t even finish your acceptance and he instantly latched onto you. You whined, any sass draining from you instantly. Carefully, you lifted your arms and clutched his shirt above where it was tucked into his jeans. His hand moved from your jaw to back of your neck, deepening the kiss. His other hand ran down your arm and settled politely on your waist. Doyoung finally pulled away and your breath came out harsh, sucking in air. After your lung's respite, he was on you again, this time his tongue snuck past your lips, brushing at yours. You gasped and he swallowed it, backing you up till your back hit the wall. Both hands ended up pinning you in as he placed them on the wall and your hands left his side the clutch the fabric over his chest. Once again, he pulled away right as you needed to tap out for air. A small trail of saliva connected your lips, and he licked over his own, breaking the connection. He moved to bend down, most likely to kiss your neck, but you stopped him.

"We can’t, not here. Your sister could come down any minute. At least let me get the rest of my stuff. We can go to my place, it’s closer." You whispered and he backed up a bit.

"Don’t you live in a dorm?"

"Yes, but my roommate works nights." You were still so close that your lips brushed as you talked. He grunted, backing up, and you moved toward the door so fast, you almost slipped. Your left sandal came partially off, and you fixed it, before shuffling rapidly out and upstairs again. Being as quiet as possible, you entered her apartment and grabbed your other things, shoving them in your bag. You bumped your leg on the table as you moved around and fought back a grunt. His sister was still asleep, so you laid a blanket over her shoulders and shut the windows, hitting your leg again on  the other corner of the table. Coming down about five minutes later, you saw he was behind the counter when you reentered, probably finishing last-minute business. You shoved all your study materials haphazardly into your bag and then waited patiently for him to finish. You were sure you looked EXTRA sexy with frizzy humidity hair, panting like an old dog with two still-forming bruises on your shins. He went into the back then came out with his own bag and smiled innocently as he met you.

"Ready?" He whispered directly into your ear, and you wanted to scream YES! but refrained.

"Yep." You tried to stay casual, and he chuckled. He led you outside and across the street to his car. It was nice, not super fancy, but still pretty nice. It was a dark blue with black leather seats. You weren’t sure your bare, sweaty thighs would love the upholstery. Getting in, you threw your bag in the back along with his and before you could reach for your seatbelt, he was doing it for you. Right as he clicked it, he gave you a brief peck on the lips. He went to start the car and your hand flung out to rest on his arm.

"Wait…I need to know, what- how do you feel about me?" You did not want this to be a one-night stand, a fling. You were pretty sure this was more than a crush, could be full-on love, and you didn’t want your heart broken. Especially not by him, anyone but Doyoung. His gaze turned to you, soft, and he sighed.

"Honestly, it was last year that I really realized what was going on. It was your birthday party at the noraebang, and you were singing with one of the guys there. I don’t remember his name. Anyway, it was a romantic duet and despite the fact that he could sing, and you cannot-"

"Hey!"

"I couldn’t stand seeing you so close to another guy. Watching you struggle to read the prompter because your contacts weren’t the right prescription, was just so freaking cute. Then you smiled at me so brightly when the song ended, at least I saw it that way. I only wanted you to smile at ME like that. I've been hiding it, because I didn’t think you would want to go out with your friend's big brother…" He tapped awkwardly on the steering wheel, giving you a sheepish look.

"My dude, that is like the most popular trope in fanfiction, you realize that right?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, that and a daddy kink-"

"Okay, thanks, that's all I need to know!" He sighed again.

"I really, really like you." He finished and you brought your hand to rest on his, wrapping your fingers around his, resting them on the center console.

"I really, really, really like you." You emphasized the third really. He smiled sweetly and leaned in to kiss your forehead.

"If this is too fast for you-"

"I have been waiting YEARS for this. Drive!" You pointed forward and he laughed, doing as you said. Once you got to campus, you directed him to the parking lot nearest your dorm building. There were still people walking about in the dusk light, and you grabbed your stuff and his hand, leading him inside. Going up to your floor, you drag him down the hall, awkwardly nodding to your neighbors. They were gawking at Doyoung, and it pissed you off. You grumbled as your keycard refused to work the first time, getting more upset that you were letting them eye-hump your man…In reality it was probably because there was a dude there, not what he looked like. You finally saw the light turn green and heard the lock click open. Shoving the door open, you yanked him inside. Throwing your bag on the floor, you used your card to enter your room as he looked around the tiny dorm living room. Another room was across from yours where two other girls lived.

"Don’t worry these walls are REALLY soundproof." You reassured, shutting the door as he entered.

"How do you know that?" He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"Because if one of them ever brings a guy, I don’t hear anything." You motioned vaguely. While your room was clean, bed made, you panicked upon seeing your rabbit stuffed animal on the bed. You grabbed it, its name might or might not have been Doyoung, and yeeted it into your closet.

"What are you hiding?" He teased and you closed the door to the closet, before being backed into it.

"Nothing." You tried to cover the act up by resting your forearms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his neck. He hummed suspiciously, bumping your forehead with his, before very softly kissing you. It was different than before, this felt more like love than lust. It made your head swim more than the previous kisses. He pulled back after a much shorter time, and he ran his hands over your frizzy hair.

"You're beautiful." His soft voice made you want to cry.

"So are you," You brought him down to your level again and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you so close you could feel the buttons of his shirt dig into your stomach. One hand drifted to your short-clad ass and gripped. You let out a gasp and his tongue once again invaded. He was the best kiss you'd ever had. You also had a feeling he was about to be the best in other ways too. Disconnecting your lips, he moved down, laying wet kisses and sucks on your neck. You let out a shaky exhale as he sucked over your pulse. You knew the position he was in was probably not comfortable, having to bend over so far due to his height.

"Move to the bed?" You offered and he laid one more kiss on your neck, then pulled back to allow you both to move. You barely sat down on the bed before he pushed you lightly onto your back and crawled over you. He stared warmly down at you for a second, then shoved his knee between your legs, grinding his thigh into you.

"Ah!" You moaned softly and his lips reattached to yours. He dominated the kiss, and you were totally fine with it. As his tongue wrapped around yours, your hands flew to the buttons on his shirt, shakily undoing them as quickly as you could.

Much to your disappointment, he was wearing a white tank top underneath, hiding his bare body. He broke the kiss to remove the shirt and…fuck. Just seeing his bare shoulders did enough for you... While to many that may not be sexy, that was the most of Doyoung's skin you had seen. He smirked at your gawking, watching your reaction as he removed the tank top and let it fall to the floor next to the bed. Despite the fact that you had never heard of or seen him work out, he was nicely toned. For a man who liked to lie in bed all day, he had a nice body.

"Your turn," He argued when you tried to kiss him again. You swallowed, nervous, but none the less sat up to remove your own tank top. You were in a sports bra underneath, super sexy, and you hesitated, but removed it as well. Instantly, he was on you. He manhandled you to wrap your legs around his waist, and his lips latched onto a nipple. You sighed at the feeling, never being much sensitive there, but since it was him, you actually shivered a bit…He let go with a pop and you felt a surge of adrenaline, pushing him off. He landed on his back, using his elbows to prop himself up. Before he could question you, you straddled him, running your hands over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to see you like this." You whispered and he huffed in amusement. As you stroked his skin, his hands grasped at you, linking his fingers through the belt loops of your jean shorts. With a handle to hold onto, he pulled you down and grinded up into you. Since you were both wearing denim, there wasn’t a ton of sensation, but the act itself made you both groan. You could tell he was getting harder by the second, and you were sure your underwear was already ruined. He continued to grind up into you, making your hands falter.

"Okay!" you declared, climbing off of him just enough to move down the bed and fumble with his belt. He seemed shocked, but when he tried to protest you shot him a glare. He relaxed back onto his elbows again as you undid his pants. You rubbed his cock through the fabric of his boxers, salivating slightly. Finally pulling him out, you gasped, staring at him. While not absolutely huge, he was bigger than anyone you had been with before.

"(Y/N)-" Doyoung's thought dropped off when you ran your tongue up the length of him. Unfortunately, no moan or groan came out, be he did let out a harsh exhale. You had no idea how long you had wanted to do this, and no one, not even him, was going to stop you. Not that he wanted to stop you. After a few more licks and kisses, you wrapped your lips around the head and began to descend. Finally, he let out a light groan and it sounded heavenly. You couldn’t get all of him in your mouth without using your throat, so that’s what you did. When your lips met the skin of his pelvis and you swallowed, his arms gave out and he flopped onto his back. His gorgeous fingers dug into your scalp, gripping your hair but not moving you. You swallowed again and then began to bob your head, taking him into the base each time. He was getting louder, and his noises made you moan.

"Fuck!" He cursed at the vibration. So, you did it again.

"(Y/N) if you don’t stop, I'm gonna cum." He warned. You didn’t stop. You wanted him to cum down your throat. Continuing, if not increasing your pace and sucking strength, he let out a whining moan and thrust up slightly as you felt his cum shoot down your throat. Swallowing it all down, you slowly pulled off as he caught his breath. He looked up at you as you made sure to get every drop that had spurted around your lips. Seeing that did something to him, and he shot up, pining you down roughly against the bed. You squeaked in surprise as he rapidly undid the button of your shorts and yanked them off. He paused at your panties; they had little ducks on them. He gave you a look, to which you shrugged, and then those too were yanked off. You watched as he took his fingers and ran them up your soaked slit. You moaned, eagerly anticipating him fingering you. His hands were just so-

"Doyoung!" He had suddenly shoved a finger inside of you. He quickly found your sweet spot, surprisingly so, and the pleasure shook you. Without warning he added another finger, scissoring them as you tried to catch your breath. Hovered over you, waiting till you got enough air for him to kiss you. When you could finally breathe easily, his lips attached to yours, his tongue wrapping around yours. You were in heaven, and he wasn’t even fucking you yet. You weren’t sure you could handle the pleasure. He left your lips, and you threw back your head, the pleasure of his now three fingers building rapidly.

"Oppa, I'm gonna cum." You moaned and something about the pet-name got to him, and his movements intensified, his thumb moved to your clit.

"Then do it," he ordered, and you saw white. He continued his assault, helping you ride out your orgasm. Before you got too over stimulated, he pulled his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth to suck your juices off. You gaped at him, body feeling limp. By that point he was completely hard again, and he spread your legs, placing one knee up over his elbow, rubbing the head of his cock against your still twitching hole.

"Oh, please-" You encouraged, and he slowly began to ease into you. The stretch stung a bit, but the overwhelming feeling and emotions overpowered it. As he slowly got deeper you tried desperately to not cum again so soon. Having Doyoung inside of you, finally, was better than you ever dreamed. He finally was in all the way, barely bumping your cervix. You felt so full.

"G-give me a second." You gripped his biceps, controlling your breaths to get used to the feeling. He kissed over your face as you got used to him, ending with a soft peck to your lips.

"Ready?" He questioned and you nodded. He started slow, barely pulling out before going as deep as he could, grinding his pubic bone against your clit. Your breath hitched each time.

"More." You pled and he smirked. He hitched your other leg up as well then began to thrust harder, pulling out halfway before slamming back in. You could already feel an orgasm building, it made your head swim. Nothing had EVER felt this good. He continued the half-thrusts and after a particularly hard grind you came undone again. It shocked both of you, and he halted his movements as you clenched around him. His brows furrowed at your tight walls fluttering, trying hard not to cum himself. He wanted to give you the most pleasure he could before he finished. Once your orgasm had calmed, he began the slow pace again. He quickly built speed though and you practically screamed when he began to fuck you in earnest. You were were practically bent in half as he loomed over you, fucking you into the mattress. Your hands flew up to grip at his bare back, your nails dragging and leaving red lines. Doyoung groaned at the feeling and dug his own nails into your thighs. The slight prick of pain excited you, more than you thought it would. That was something to be explored later, though. All of a sudden, he pulled out and you exclaimed.

"What-!" With much more strength than you thought he had, he flipped you over onto your hands and knees. You barely kept your balance before he slammed back in, knocking your arms out from under you. Your front half fell to the bed, and you gripped the sheets to hold on for dear life. He was deeper now, each thrust ramming his head against your cervix. Tears pricked at your eyes; the pleasure so intense you almost weren’t sure you could handle it. Then, his hand came down harshly on your ass and you yelped.

"Fuck, do that again please." You pleaded and you could practically hear him smirk. He landed another hit, on the other side this time, most likely leaving a big red handprint. The somewhat flimsy wooden bed frame provided by the college rocked, the headboard knocking into the painted brick wall. If you weren’t being fucked out of your mind you would have made note that despite the unsteadiness, a lot of students had probably done something like that. That alone proved the resilience of the beds. Your hands above your head were gripping your sheets hard, and his hands left your hips to cover yours. He linked his fingers with yours, his thrusts getting slightly off rhythm. As he fucked his cock into you, each time he buried fully back into you, more of your braincells floated away. Nothing else came to mind but your impending orgasm.

"Doyoung…gon-gonna cum~." You whined.

"Me too, hold on a bit, princess," he grunted, leaning over you more, one arm wrapping around your middle, so his hand laid on your lower stomach. His thrusts got shallower, but no less deep, pressing on your tummy to feel himself inside you.

"Cum inside." You told him and he almost outright stopped.

"I'm on birth control pills, please cum inside." You pleaded and he swore several times, grinding into you. When you felt his hot cum shooting inside, it knocked you over the edge. You saw stars and swore you blacked out for a few seconds. When you came to, he was pulling out and a great deal of fluid was flowing down the inside of your thighs.

"You squirted." He informed and you barely registered what he said.

"Huh?"

"You soaked me." He chuckled and you propped yourself up to look back at him. You gaped at the very obvious splatter of wet covering his lower half.

"Shit! I'm sorry! I've never done that before!"

"Shh, it's okay. It was hot." Doyoung chuckled and you sighed in relief. You slowly let your body fall to the bed till you were laying on your stomach.

"Where’s the bathroom?"

"Second door across the living room." You waved your hand, already feeling drowsy. You listened as he partially clothed himself, pulling his underwear and pants back on, then left your room. Since you didn’t hear anything, you assumed your roommates were not home and he came back with a warm, damp washcloth. He was incredibly attentive and helped you clean up. Slowly, you sat up as he threw the towel on your dirty laundry. He picked his shirt up off the floor and handed it to you.

"I have clothes to change into," you pointed at your dresser, and he shook his head.

"Please?" He gave you a smug look and you narrowed your eyes at him. Snatching the shirt from him, you buttoned it up and you smiled at how the fabric pooled over you. The sleeves went past your hands, and you could practically wear it as a dress and still be decent to go outside. He sat on your bed, and you just stared at each other for a bit.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked, almost sheepishly. You furrowed your brow dramatically.

"What kind of question? YES, of course!" You glared and he laughed, tackling you. Since you were on a twin sized bed, you both could barely fit. He pressed his back against the wall and hugged you so close to him there was still a good four inches of bed at your back. You buried your head in the crook of his neck and reached to pull the comforter over you two.

"What about when your roommate comes home?" He asked as you cuddled. You glanced behind you at the clock.

"I'll text her; she can sleep on the couch." He reluctantly let you get up to retrieve your phone. You stood, texting, and he admired you in just his shirt.

"Be nicer if it was red."

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 8: ...Your Ivy Grows...

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: this chapter is just smut. hope you all enjoy! also, this chapter marks the over half-way point of the series! thank you so much for the continued support! <3 aslo idk if anyone else has had this issue but when you reach 100 pages on a google doc grammar correct stops working? i literally have to break this story up into two docs lmao Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay @nn-hh192 Chapter List

Even though Arthur pledged to take his time with you, you could tell that he was using every bit of restraint in him to keep from taking you right there. His fingers were tight on your thigh, tight enough to leave marks, yet you found that you couldn’t complain. How could you, when all you could say was his name as soft pants and moans?

His lips were unrelenting in their exploration of your neck and shoulders, like he was trying to memorize the shape of your body by just kissing it. One of your hands carded into his dusty brown hair, and if your mind wasn’t so overwhelmed with just the feeling of him, you would’ve marveled at how soft it still was. Yet all that came to your mind was how wonderful his lips felt, and how wonderful they would feel elsewhere. It made your head fall back again, barely noticing the impact of it against the wall, his hand no longer there to protect it. 

No, the hand that had once been so reverently holding you had shifted south, lightly brushing over the side of your body. He just skirted the outline of your breasts through your nightgown, where you wanted, needed him to touch you. You must’ve made some noise of complaint when he continued down, because you felt his smirk again, lips pulling against the delicate skin of your neck. That damn smirk, you could picture it now, and that mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes.

You thought you had gotten your wish when you felt him grab a thin strap of your nightgown with his teeth, slowly dragging it down your shoulder. Goosebumps erupted across the skin when you felt the drag of his beard, the dainty strap tickling your skin where it hung loosely. You expected him to slide the other one off, but when his kisses lingered on the newly exposed skin and his hands remained planted on the lower part of your body, you decided to do it instead, your patience from a few moments prior no longer existing.

With one hand still in his hair, you began to try to bring it down, but you were stopped before it could even budge an inch. Arthur had somehow been able to tell what you were doing, despite being fully enraptured with caressing your body, and had pinned your hand to the wall above you. His hand no longer held your thigh, but you still kept a leg hooked around his body, keeping him as close as you could. A started noise had left you, which turned into a light moan, his actions making you crave more. 

But even though he had stopped you, you weren’t going to give up that easily. “Arthur,” you whined out, giving him the best pleading eyes you could, hoping that he would take pity on you. “Undress me,” you uttered, for what you now realized to be the first time in your life; you’d never had the desire to do so before. 

Arthur paused for a moment before raising his head enough so that his lips were just hovering over yours. Yet no matter how much you strained, no matter how much you reached, you couldn’t connect them. “I did say I was takin’ my time with ya, did I not?”

Damn him and his unwavering resolve to torture you. “You did, but-”

His lips finally connecting with yours silenced you, your words trailing off into a mumble. He pulled away much too quickly for your liking, and you tried to voice your displeasure, but another short kiss stopped you. “I ain’t goin’ back on my word. I’ve waited so damn long to have you like this; I’m savorin’ ya for as long as I can.” 

If only he knew that you felt the exact opposite. He ghosted over your lips before landing at your jaw, right below his ear. His voice was low and husky right in your ear, and it was both the feeling and the words he spoke that left you shuddering. “Trust me when I say this ain’t endin’ without that beautiful body of yours completely uncovered.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his compliment. “You ain’t ever seen my body,” you tried to deflect his words. 

“I ain’t gotta see it to know.” He bit at your earlobe. “Now, you gonna be patient?” His fingers gently squeezed the wrist he held above your body. 

Wordlessly, you nodded. As much as you would’ve loved to have him keep you restrained, the angle was starting to get uncomfortable. When he let go, you chose to rest it on his shoulder, and you could feel the way his muscles flexed as he moved again. Lips returned to your bare right shoulder, and they began to trail down your arm, all the way down to your fingers. It was a strange feeling, but you were loving it. Never before had someone treated your body so carefully, like you were the most precious thing they’ve ever held. 

But here Arthur was, kissing your skin like it was made of gold, like you were a gift sent down from the Gods. As much as you longed to hear those three words from his mouth, you certainly felt like he was showing you that he did indeed love you, just like you requested, and you felt your heart soar. 

After reaching your fingers, you felt him caress the kiss-adorned skin with a calloused hand, something like awe across his features. When you grew bashful under his gaze, your head turning away, you saw him look up out of the corner of your eye. “What?” He asked, coming out almost like a breathy laugh. “Look at me, darlin’.”

Swallowing, you forced your gaze back onto him, your face burning when he still had that same awestruck expression. “I won’t be able to if you keep lookin’ at me like that.”

Intrigued, he dragged his hand back up your arm, resting against the side of your neck. As much as you wanted to look away, you forced yourself to keep your attention on him. “Like what?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer. “Like you’re the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen? Like I’m the luckiest bastard, who damn well doesn’t deserve ya, someone as kind and breathtaking and good as you? Like I want to spend every moment with you, holdin’ you, touchin’ you, purely and utterly devoted to you?” 

Arthur shook his head, a small laugh leaving him. “Nah, I can’t stop lookin’ at you like that, darlin’. I refuse to stop lookin’ at you like that. So, you,” his hand was now cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing over your lips, “are just gonna have to accept it.”

You had no response to his words, drawing up a blank in your mind, and his touches certainly weren’t helping. God, you fucking loved him so much. 

When his mouth crashed into yours, you realized that you had said that out loud, but you didn’t care. Relief coursed through your body when you felt him finally tug the other strap down, a little more forceful than necessary. It was subtle, but the strings of his restraint had begun to fray. 

When he pulled away, you felt him begin a similar trail down your left arm, and you let yourself just get lost in the sensations. It differed when he got to your hand, your fingers more specifically. You heard his breath hitch, and you glanced down at him, confused. 

“You haven’t put it back on,” he muttered, and it took a few moments for you to realize that he was talking about your ring. You knew it was risky, keeping it off when Hans could be home at literally any time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put it back on during the past couple of weeks.

“No,” you whispered, “because there’s only one person my heart belongs to, and it certainly ain’t the man who gave me that ring.”

An almost pained noise left Arthur, and you thought something was truly wrong until his eyes bore into yours. The once awestruck, loving look was now replaced with some more primal, more hungry, and you sucked in a gasp. His body was almost instantly pressed into yours, crowding you up against the wall. His mouth was attacking your neck, sucking and biting, leaving marks that would darken by morning. If you had any rational thought left in you, you would’ve made sure he kept his marks somewhere you could easily hide them, but you had none left.

“Say it again,” he groaned into your skin. 

“My heart is yours, Arthur.” You don’t think you’ve ever uttered truer words before. 

“Mine…” he breathed out, like he was trying to convince himself that it was true.

“I’m yours.”

 He moaned at that, his breath fanning across your skin. “Mine,” he repeated with more certainty, unyielding still with his ministrations. 

You never thought that you would ever like anyone having a claim to you, even more so when you got married to Hans. But you realized that you didn’t mind because unlike the marriage it was mutual. Arthur was yours as much as you were his. 

“Yours.”

It seemed like that was the last thing you needed to say before his restraint snapped. 

You were startled when you felt the ground no longer beneath your foot that was still against the ground, Arthur picking you up with ease with two hands beneath your thighs. Your other leg joined in wrapping around his body, your hands grappling for purchase across the broad expanse of his shoulders. He wasted no time, heading straight up the staircase to where he knew your room to be. His footsteps were surprisingly quiet, and you realized that he still remembered your rule of no shoes in the house, and you somehow fell even more in love with him for heeding what you said, no matter how small or insignificant it was. 

It was hard to kiss him because of all the jostling of climbing upstairs, but you tried anyway. You almost immediately tore away when you accidentally bit down hard on his bottom lip from all the movement, but it quickly died in your throat at the somehow even hungrier look Arthur shot you. “Darlin’ we ain’t gonna make it to the bed if ya do things like that,” he spoke after his grip on you faltered slightly, but you were clinging on to him too tightly to really tell. 

“Is that a promise?” You teased.

Arthur barked out a small laugh at that, his eyes crinkling. “The stairs ain’t gonna be the most comfortable place, but if you insist…” He made a show of bending over slowly, trying to deposit you onto the wooden stairs. You immediately made a noise of protest, and Arthur straightened back up, laughing yet again. “Is that a no, then?”

“It’s a no. But maybe next time,” you giggled.

“Next time,” he echoed, and you could barely detect the small amount of disbelief in his voice. 

He had reached the top of the stairs now, passing the first door to Hans’ office. As you passed, a thought filled your mind that got your heart racing even more, biting back a moan. You pictured yourself laying back on the desk, Arthur’s face between your legs, your cries muffled with-

The familiar surroundings of your room tore you from your thoughts, and a shaky breath left you. You missed the look that Arthur gave you, fully aware of the kinds of images that had just flashed through your mind. But he didn’t say anything, merely tucking them away into his mind for a later day. Like you said, there was always a next time.

Arthur set you on the side of the bed, standing in between your legs, You had to strain your neck to look up at him, and you followed him as he sank to his knees before you. If it didn’t look like he was worshiping you earlier, it certainly looked like it now. Awe was back on his features, eye wide, letting out soft, pleased sighs as he took you in. Moonlight spilled in from behind you, casting you in a cool white light, your shadow cast over him. 

Even though there was a rug, you knew that how he was sitting was probably not the most comfortable, and you tried to usher him to the bed. Arthur just shook his head, pressing a grateful kiss to the back of your hand. “In a moment, darlin’,” he reassured.

You shivered when you felt his hands on your thighs, skirting up the sides of your body slowly, methodically. It seemed like the small walk had calmed him some, his interest in slowly driving you insane returning. Warm hands grazed the undersides of your breasts, before grazing against your perked nipples that poked through the thin material of the nightgown. It made you jolt, earning a low chuckle from the man.

You gasped when he did it again, your body pressing into his large hands. “Arthur,” you sighed out, and he hummed in response, engrossed in the way you reacted to him touching you. Every brush of his fingers, every gentle squeeze, shot another jolt through your body, arousal coiling in your lower body. 

Your body was growing incredibly warm, and even though the material of the gown was light, it still felt like you were wearing a winter jacket in the desert. But you didn’t make a move to take it off yourself. “Undress me?” You tried again, this time phrasing it like a question. 

“You sure, darlin’?”

You were touched by his consideration, but you were almost growing desperate at this point. “Please, Arthur.”

Arthur took a second to judge the validity of your response before a soft smile spread on his face. He toyed at the hem of your nightgown, which had ridden up to your upper thighs. “I suppose I can arrange that.” You were barely able to lift your hips before Arthur was tearing your nightgown off over your head, tossing it beside him. 

In just your undergarments, you watched as Arthur slowly took in your exposed body, the same look on his face that he had downstairs. “How did I get so damn lucky?” His hands joined in the exploration of your body, pulling out small noises from you. “My beautiful girl.”

His hands felt so much better when there wasn’t a barrier of fabric between them, you realized when he returned to your breasts. Despite the roughness of his skin, he was still gentle with his touches, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. It was hard to remember the fact that this was a rough, grizzled man, who had seen the worst the world had to offer, yet regarded you so carefully.

Your hand reacquainted itself with his hair when his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, his fingers playing with the other. Teeth grazed against the sensitive bud, making your hips jump from where you sat on the bed, a cry of his name leaving your lips. Fingers tightened in his hair, and Arthur groaned. His mouth was still pulling pleasure from your breasts, and the noise he made just added to the stimulation, the low timbre rolling through your body. 

After a few moments of lavishing your breasts with attention, he was descending even further, lips barely leaving your body, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. When he stopped right above the ribbon that held your undergarments, he brought his gaze up to you, a silent question in his eyes, a stifled gasp leaving you when you realized what he was asking for. You’d heard stories, tales of lovers going down on their partners, bringing them pleasure with their mouths. You’d always just shake your head, not believing that someone would want to do that; it was one-sided satisfaction, in your mind.  

But his gaze held nothing but pure want, like he needed to do this, craved it more than any fine liquor. It made you evaluate how one-sided the satisfaction might be. You hadn't realized you’d been silent for an extended period until Arthur’s voice pulled you from your mind. “Please, darlin’.” 

Oh, you liked that. Another gasp left you, this one less stifled than the previous, and you felt something throb between your legs. Arthur picked up on your reaction, realization making him grin, eager to see you squirm. “Please, lemme taste ya,” he pitched his voice even lower. “I wanna feel ya cum on my face, darlin’. I wanna feel you soak-”

He was cut off by a sharp pull on his hair, yanking his head back, your other hand covering his mouth. Your cheeks were blazing, embarrassed beyond belief, but you’d be a liar if you said his words weren’t doing something to you. Any more, though, and you would explode. “You have a dirty mouth, Arthur Morgan.” You prayed that your voice didn’t sound too airy. 

A light nip at your hand made you pull away, shooting a disingenuous glare at him. “You love it, darlin’.” 

How right he was. If his hands inched any further downward, he’d be able to feel the effect he was having on you. You rolled your eyes but didn’t offer any rebuttal. You felt him run his fingers beneath the ribbon, eliciting a shiver through your body. “Can I?” He asked, still waiting for your answer. 

You had just gotten out a quiet yes before a hand pushed you down to the bed, gentle yet commanding. Arthur spread your legs, groaning appreciatively at the sight before him. There wasn’t any shock on his features as he took in the darkened patch on your undergarments; he knew exactly what he did to you. He quickly undid the ribbon, then yanked the garment down your legs, letting it dangle precariously off one of your feet. 

Neither of you cared, Arthur especially, his eyes locked onto your glistening cunt. Holding the insides of your thighs, he kept your legs open, rubbing soothingly into the skin as he made his way closer. Anticipation made you shake, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, rising in pace when his breath ghosted over you. 

Both of you let out sighs when his mouth made contact, your body jumping at the foreign contact. Sensations you’d never felt before invaded your body, almost too many for you to keep track of. His beard prickled against the highly sensitive skin, a complete difference from the soft glide of his tongue through you. You barely even saw the way his eyes rolled back, completely taken in by the way you tasted. 

You whined out his name as he did it again, and his eyes glanced up at you between your legs. It was an even better sight than anything you could've ever imagined, and you couldn’t help the slight mortification when you realized you said it aloud. It was the second time that night something had spilled from you that you hadn’t wished to reveal, and you debated just covering your mouth so that it wouldn’t happen again. 

Even though you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he was smirking, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’ve thought of this before, darlin’?” He asked between passes of his tongue, pleasure building slowly in your core. But you could tell that he was very clearly avoiding your clit, his tongue always stopping or passing it, just to rile you up. And it was working. 

“Arthur,” you whined, but you knew at this point trying to plead with him was an uphill battle. 

“Have you thought of this before?” He asked again, and you realized that he wasn’t going to give what you wanted until you answered him. 

“Yes,” you admitted, and even though your response was hardly louder than a whisper, it felt like you shouted it to the world. Of course, you’d imagined Arthur like this before, and so much more. It wasn’t often, either during the one time Hans had been intimate with you recently or during the lonely weeks by yourself. You’d imagine him as you slip a hand between your legs, softer and smaller than Arthur’s, but you always tried to not dwell on that fact. 

He rewarded your response by finally making contact where you wanted him, a loud cry tumbling from your lips as he lapped at your clit. You fumbled at the bedsheets, trying to find something to grab onto that wasn’t his hair as he wracked your body with pleasure. “What’d ya think ‘bout?” His words were muffled, and it took you a few moments to form a coherent thought.

Apparently, you took too long, and you felt his attention move away from your clit, choosing to just pass around it instead. You loved and hated the way he was toying with you, leaving you a writhing mess beneath him. “I’ve- I’ve thought ‘bout this,” you vaguely gestured to where he was, and you sighed out when his tongue returned to the sensitive nerves. “I’ve thought ‘bout your fingers…” you had to take a moment, pleasure becoming overwhelming. “Imagined how they’d feel on me, in me…”

On cue, you felt his rough fingers brush against your folds, making you shudder. “I’ve thought ‘bout you bendin’ me over, takin’ me roughly, makin’ me scream.” You felt Arthur groan. But… but I also imagined you takin’ me gently, makin’ love to me, and I can’t… I can’t figure out which one I want more…” 

“We’ll just have to try both then, darlin’.”

You opened your mouth, ready to say more, but you stopped. “Anythin’ else?” You heard him ask, and you damned him for having such acute observation skills. 

“I’ve…” You couldn’t believe you were about to admit this to him. “Whenever he…” you didn’t even want to say his name, “you know, had me… I imagined it was you instead.”

You watched blue eyes widen. “You have?”

You couldn’t tell if he was disgusted by the fact, having gone still between your legs, but you were too nervous that you’d just royally fucked this all up to care. “I asked ya a question,” he muttered, pulling his head far enough away so you could see him better. Even still, you couldn’t read the expression on his face, and you ducked your head in shame. 

“I have,” you whispered out. 

“When?”

Of course, he had to ask that. That answer might put him off even more, but as you glanced back down at him, you found that you couldn’t without the truth. “Remember when you came over to the house for the first time? Durin’ the middle of the night?” You laughed bitterly. “I could barely look you in the eye, I felt so guilty.” And you still felt guilty, and it tore at your chest. “I’m sorry, Arthur-”

You tried to close your legs, his grip having gone lax, but as soon as he felt you move it was back. He yanked you closer to him, his mouth meeting you halfway, attacking your clit with precision. Short laps that had created a gradual and steady build of pleasure had been replaced for heavy, intense presses of his tongue, ruthless and unyielding. He was devouring you now, a complete switch up from the casual pace before, and you could do nothing but take it. 

He wasn’t talking now, too concentrated on making you finish to do so. His name spilled from your lips, and you desperately gripped at the bedsheets, hips bucking and writhing. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to approach, having been edged on for so long. “Arthur, I’m… please,” you begged him not to cut you off this time, and you could’ve cried in relief when he didn’t. 

With a loud final cry of his name that made you glad you lived in the middle of the woods, you came, your cunt clenching around nothing as waves of pleasure spasmed your body. The grip on the sheets turned vice-like as every nerve in your body was set alight, white-hot pleasure taking over all your senses. Arthur continued to pleasure you, the noises growing obscene, and you eventually had to pull him away, as it became too much. 

His wish had certainly been fulfilled, his lower face and beard soaked with your release. His eyes were impossibly dark, panting wildly, and he almost looked animalistic. Slowly, you watched as he lowered one last time, eyes never leaving yours as he kissed your clit, a jolt of overstimulation hitting you at the contact. 

Arthur stood now, hands bracing on either side of your hips as he stood. The first thing you noticed, besides his disheveled expression, was the substantial tent in the front of his pants, his cock straining against the denim. On shaky knees, you sat up, your arms bracing for support on his broad chest. Two arms wrapped around your body, hands resting on your back, keeping you pressed close to him. Leaning down, he kissed you, and you groaned when his tongue pressed into your mouth, tasting your release on him. 

But you couldn’t ignore the way he pressed into you, and you managed to sneak a hand between your bodies, fingers running gently over him. He tore away from the kiss then, an airy noise that almost sounded like a chuckle leaving him. Smiling sweetly at him, you retracted your hand, only to start unbuttoning his shirt with thinly veiled desperation. Your hands were still shaking, which just made getting the little buttons undone an almost impossible task.

You felt him wrap his hands around your wrist, halting you. Gentle kisses were pressed against your hands before he set them beside you. His less-shaky hands quickly unbuttoned his shirt, your eyes greedily taking him in as the first bare expanse of his chest was exposed to you. As his shirt hit the ground, the sound it made barely covered up the noise you made when his upper half was exposed to you for the first time. 

You knew he was a large man, but seeing him bare made the fact clear. Another fact that you quickly came to realize was that he was the most stunning man you’ve ever had the privilege to see. It had long been clear that he was a beautiful man, but you were quite literally staring at him with an open mouth, your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest. 

Scars littered his body, the most substantial one being on his shoulder. It looked like a freshly healed gunshot wound, which made your heart lurch. Smaller scars trailed down his body, mostly straight lines and a few jagged edges. A dusting of wiry, brown hair covered his entire body, and you didn’t bother to resist the urge to run your hands through it. It was softer than you expected, and you let your hands roam freely, loving the way that Arthur seemed to purr under your touch. It turned into a groan when you brushed over his nipples, finding pleasure in teasing him the way he had done to you. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Arthur,” you cooed out, nails scratching lightly over his skin. It was his turn to shudder, to be turned to jelly because of your actions. Your name left his lips as a whine, and you couldn’t deny how incredible it made you feel. His abdominal muscles jumped when your fingers ghosted over them, his breath catching when you began to tug at his gunbelt. “Take this off?” You asked, resting your chin against his chest and looking up at him. “Please?”

He had already started taking it off as soon as you asked, but you knew that he’d love hearing the added please. And he did, his eyes rolling back as he groaned. It didn’t take long before he was setting the belt down on the ground, being gentle to not cause a misfire of the weapon. 

He was less considerate with his regular belt, the accessory hitting the ground with a large clattering noise that made you jump. You grinned when you heard the sound of a zipper, and you worked your own hands down to help him ease off his pants, underwear included, down enough to free him. A hiss left his mouth as his cock was exposed to the air, and you dared to look down. 

Even with the lack of light, you could tell that he was quite well-endowed. When you took him in hand, you were almost startled to find that you couldn’t wrap your hand around him, but pure desire blocked out those thoughts. You didn’t care if it hurt, you needed him now. 

You stroked him a few times, pants of air escaping his lips, and his hips jolted when your thumb brushed over his tip. Precum coated the digit, and you brought it to your mouth. You made a show of cleaning it off, tongue running over the length of it before taking it into your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you groaned in approval as the salty tang hit your tastebuds. 

Removing it from your mouth with a pop, you sat back on your heels, helping to work his garments down his thighs, before letting it drop and pool at his feet. As he kicked it away, you let your eyes roam unabashedly, finally having a perfect view of his thick legs, also adorned with a light covering of hair. Backing up further on the bed and adjusting so that your head lay against pillows, you raised an amused brow when Arthur just stood there, eyes also roaming your body shamelessly. 

“Are you just gonna stand there all night?” You teased. 

“If you want me to.” There was an honesty to his words that had you melting, but you just rolled your eyes instead. 

“C’mere,” you laughed, holding out a hand. He took it, letting you pull him onto the bed. He was on top of you in seconds, lips attaching to your neck again, a hand running down your body. Your own hands were all over him, every new piece of skin becoming familiar. You could feel his cock brush against your stomach as he leaned above you, leaking onto your skin.

As much as you loved his attention, you were so close to getting what you wanted that you couldn’t wait any longer. “Arthur,” you gasped out, “I need you.”

“You have me, darlin’. It’s just… you sure you’re ready?” You expected to find a hint of arrogance in his voice, but you found none, just genuine concern. 

“I’m ready.”

Arthur brushed his lips over yours, then rested his forehead against yours. That awestruck, almost disbelieving look was back as he situated himself between your legs. Before he could, you snuck a hand down, holding him gently at the base to help him ease into you. He nearly faltered right there, not expecting to feel your hand, and you just smiled as sweetly as you could at him. 

You whined when you felt him begin to press into you, removing your hand so that you didn’t hurt him on accident. Instead, you gripped onto his shoulders, nails biting into the skin, which seemed to just spur Arthur on more. He was slow, almost tortuously slow as he eased into you, strained breaths hitting your face. He was all you could feel, the delicious stretch of him; you’ve never felt such a wonderful pain. 

It felt like hours had passed before you felt Arthur’s hips press flush against yours. Your chest rose and fell rapidly like you’d just run for miles. He felt incredible, and you could tell that he felt similarly by the small groans he tried to stifle. He stayed still inside you for a moment, letting you adjust, which the rational part of your brain was grateful for. But you had long since been ready for him, and you desperately needed him to move. 

Petting back his hair, you brought his attention to you. So many emotions flashed in his eyes as he regarded you, a soft smile gracing his lips. You’d think that right now he’d look the most tense, but you’d never seen him so relaxed. The furrow in his brow was long gone, the crinkles in his eyes from smiling, not from squinting worriedly. 

“I love you, Arthur,” you found yourself saying again that night, and you swore his ears turned red. 

He stammered out something in response, but you just shushed him gently, running a hand back through his hair. “You don’t gotta say it back. I just needed you to know.”

“Oh, I know, darlin’. Don’t you ever think otherwise.”

You just hummed in response, before wiggling your hips slightly. He got the message, slowly pulling himself out of you, leaving only the tip in. His eyes never once left you, gauging your reactions. All you could do was moan, too overwhelmed with the feeling of him to do anything else. 

It didn’t take too long for him to build a slow rhythm, the rocking of his hips gentle. Even his touch was light as it danced over your skin, making you shiver. With each thrust in and out, your breasts moved with the motion, and eventually, Arthur just couldn’t resist the temptation. His lips were all over them as he continued to rock into you. 

Your legs had locked around his waist, keeping his body as close to you as possible. You felt so full, hitting spots inside of you that you hadn’t even reached before. Every slow drag of his hips was magnificent, and you could feel the slow beginnings of another orgasm begin to form. It was long since reaching its completion, but you knew exactly what you needed to reach it faster. 

Carding your fingers into his hair, you pressed your lips against his, this kiss sloppy and uncoordinated, but you did manage to snag his lip between your teeth. It gave you the reaction you wanted, his hips bucking into yours harshly, making you cry out with pleasure. “Arthur…” you tried to speak, but another roll of his hips made you moan, cutting you off. 

“Darlin’, you feel so… God.”

“Arthur,” you tried again. “Faster, please.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Praises tumbled from you as he picked up the pace, and you felt yourself building faster. Yet it wasn’t enough, and you finally just told him what you needed from him. 

“I need you to fuck me, Arthur.”

If he was shocked by your words, he did a damn good job hiding it. He said your name, low, cautionary, making you shiver again. He continued the pace he was at, though, and your fingers tugged at his hair in mild frustration. “Darlin’, you-”

“Fuck me, Arthur.” You didn’t care that you sounded like you were whining. When he pulled out of you completely, you were confused, but it was quickly replaced by sheer arousal at the look on his face.

Like you weighed nothing, you were flipped over by Arthur, being manhandled by him turning you on a lot more than you thought it would. Now on your hands and knees, you didn’t even get to glance back at him before he was filling you again. His hands dug into the flesh of your hips as he pounded into you relentlessly, and you’re sure your voice would be hoarse later because of how loudly you were crying out. 

With every thrust in, he hit something in you that made you see stars. “Is this what my girl wanted?” You heard him ask, panting lightly from exertion. “Am I fuckin’ you just like ya wanted?”

“God, Arthur, yes!” You could feel your release coming closer, faster than you anticipated. 

“Is this what you imagined?” He leaned down close to your ear. “Is this what you imagined I’d do to you, instead of him?” He said the last word with so much venom, so much hatred. Jeasuly, you realized, looked good on him. But he didn’t need to know that Hans had never had you like this; you were enjoying his anger. 

“Even better.” You admitted. “So much better.”

You groaned when you felt his hand sneak between your legs, rubbing at your clit with hard, short circles. “You feel even better than I imagined, darlin’.” His words hit you like a freight train, and you glanced back at him, shocked. “What, you thought you’re the only one with dirty thoughts?” His lips grazed your shoulderblades. “Oh, darlin’, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for longer than I care to admit.”

If you weren’t currently about to fall apart beneath him, you would’ve asked him to tell you more. But you couldn’t, and you felt the tension in you begin to shatter. “Arthur, I’m…”

“I’ll be right behind ya,” he groaned into your skin. “C’mon, darlin’, let me feel ya…” With a final thrust of his hips and press of his fingers, you came again, your arms shaking. It only took a few more thrusts for Arthur, especially because of the way your walls fluttered and clenched around him, and he quickly pulled out of you before spilling across your back.

Your arms finally gave out, collapsing face-first into the pillows. Pleasure coursed through your body, making your muscles buzz pleasantly. You felt the bed shift, and you whined at the lack of heart from Arthur. “I’ll be right back, darlin’. I promise,” he chuckled lightly.

True to his word, he was back within moments. You must’ve dozed off for a second, but you were woken up with a start when you felt a damp, warm washrag wipe at your skin. “S’just me,” he reassured, quickly cleaning your skin of his release. 

When you heard him set it on the nightstand, you finally rolled over, glancing up at Arthur. After enhancing soft smiles, he leaned down and kissed you, which quickly turned from light grazing of lips to a heated kiss. When his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, you felt arousal begin to creep back into your system. The things this man did to you.

Still, much to his evident disappointment, you pulled him away. You saw the bags under his eyes, still as evident as they were a while ago. “Arthur,” you sighed, “you’re exhausted.”

He just shrugged, clearly not regarding his well-being. “I made ya a promise, darlin’,” he smirked. “Besides, I don’t think I could sleep if I wanted to.”

“But-”

His lips silenced you, and when he pulled away you glared lightly at him. “We’ll just sleep in late tomorrow, no?”

You sighed, but it was hard to remain adamant in your stance with the way he pleaded at you with his eyes. “I suppose-” His lips collided against yours, climbing on top of you, like he couldn’t bear to be away from you any longer. But what made you gasp was the feeling of his almost hard cock pressing against you, ready for another round. 

The two of you didn’t go to bed until the light from the sunrise streamed into the room, tangled up in a mess of blankets and limbs.

[writingseaslugs]

Diasomnia Romantic Headcanons

Writing Diasomnia was a struggle. I even read up to the first chapter of Book 6 and all their Vignettes and still had some trouble. I love them all, though. Also big shoutout to @treysimp for helping me with Sebek. They explained their thoughts on him, which helped me get the writing flow going. 

A quick heads up when it comes to Lilia’s last bullet point…this is a headcanon. It’s how I perceive the character going off what he says in-game. I go into a little more detail in my post about how I see the world, but ya. Just a heads up, I think Lilia can change his form, and the one he presents in the game isn’t indeed what he looks like.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series is aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post. Beta read by Grammarly and it’s trying its best.

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia (You’re Here)

Romantic Headcanons

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is originally going to find you interesting in the fact that, unlike every human on campus, you hold no fear in your eyes when you first see him. To you, he was just another mysterious student on campus. You even gave him a nickname that, to most, might’ve been embarrassing, but to him, it just meant you didn’t know who he was. He can just talk to you freely, which is like a breath of fresh air for him…he almost doesn’t want you to find out who he really is at first, but that feeling would probably quickly leave him. If this child of man was afraid after hearing his real name, it isn’t worth his time.

Your nightly conversations outside of Ramshackle dorm are going to slowly evolve into walking around campus with Malleus under the cover of shadows. You never run into any students on these walks, and Malleus is more than happy to tell you about every single Gargoyle there is on campus during your walks. He even points out a statue or two that’s supposed to imitate the Gargoyles to create symmetry but doesn’t actually serve any purpose. You’re going to be finding out a lot about the school, but that’s fine. His voice is so soothing you could probably listen to it all day. You find it odd when he begins guiding you in a different direction on your walks, almost as if he’s trying to avoid someone.

Malleus is going to realize he has it down bad for you at the festival when you discover who he actually is, only to immediately continue calling him by that silly nickname you gave him. He’s more than happy to let you continue using it, don’t get him wrong; he finds it wonderful that your demeanor didn’t change. His feelings for you only begin to increase, especially when he forges a nightly visit, only to have you at the door of his dorm asking to see if he has time for an evening stroll. It was then that he realizes that this child of man is something else.

Malleus has an imposing aura surrounding him at all times, which wards off anything from trying to cause you any harm. You’re one of the most protected students at the school at this point. Of course, Lilia will also be watching over you from the corner of his eyes when he spots you in the hallways. Silver and Sebek will also be careful around you and stop anyone from trying to cause a ruckus. Nobody at the school knows why these three members of Diasomnia are now so protective over you since it’s not exactly common knowledge that you’re one of Malleus’s close friends.

Despite Malleus knowing he seems to like his child of man, he probably won’t be doing anything about it. Lilia had always spoken about fleeting crushes and how they develop, and this is what Malleus assumes it will be. A simple “crush” that he will soon get over and continue being friends with you. He’s mainly going to be thinking this way because he simply doesn’t know the first thing in courting a human or how they show their affection. To him, you’ve never once shown romantic interest, and he’d rather not push that on you if you weren’t interested. Lilia is the one that has to point out to Malleus that the human is very clearly interested in him and almost breaks out a power-point of all the times you’ve seemingly done something to flirt with him, only for him to think of it as a friendly human gesture.

Once he’s made aware of this fact, he’s going to begin courting you in a more fae-like manner, which can be very confusing for you. Once again, Lilia is going to have to jump in. It’s almost painful for the “old man” to watch this awkward flirting where neither party realizes what’s going on. Lilia will probably corner you and explain flirting with the fae, and once it clicks, it’s go time. The easiest way to let Malleus know you return the feelings is simple. Either flat out tell him or ask him to lean down closer so you can tell him something, then grab the lapels of his jacket and give him a kiss. It’s very clear in the message you’re sending.

Malleus is going to always have some form of physical contact going with you when you’re together. Normally it’s a single hand on you, on the small of your back, as he guides you places. Sometimes he requests your hand, or he lets you hook your arm around his as you two continue. When you’re sitting there, one hand might be on your thigh, mindlessly rubbing circles into it. He enjoys holding these small moments of contact with you, and feeling your warmth radiating gives him a sense of calm.

Since Malleus is normally never seen outside of classes, people don’t know you two are going out. Even if you mentioned dating Malleus, students would laugh in your face and call you a liar. Not like it really matters to you whether they believe you, but if they were going to laugh, then why ask if you were seeing someone? Everyone sings a whole new tune one day when you ask Malleus to walk you to class since you wanna see him more in school. He always holds his arm out like a gentleman for you to grab onto. Everyone in the hall is going to be staring in shock until Sebek begins shouting and biting their heads off while Silver tries to reel him in. Despite all that, it still makes for a pretty cute scene in your mind.

He is very much in love with giving you kisses all the time. Sometimes just quick pecks when he sees fit or a kiss on the hand or forehead. His favorite is bending down and tilting your chin to meet his own. Leaning over for a kiss and barely brushing your lips before standing back to his full height. Nobody is taller than Malleus (and if you are, praise be). So there’s a good chance if he teases you with a kiss and then stands up, you’d have to climb that man like a tree to get a proper smooch for him. If you actually attempt that, he’ll be laughing at you before helping support your weight as he picks you up and smothers you in kisses.

He’s very much into physical touch, so cuddling is going to be something to get used to. He might bring one of his special pillows and keep it over at Ramshackle for his horns. Either way, he’ll be pulling you against him, either spooning you, letting you spoon him, or his personal favorite, laying on his back with you pulled on top of him, your head resting on his chest. His chin will be right on your head while he holds you and talks about his day, or he partakes in his favorite activity, which is listening to whatever crazy shenanigans you’ve been up to. He’ll do this until you’re asleep on him and just spend the night. He knows Lilia will deal with his overprotective bodyguards.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia was intrigued by you at first. This little human is now taking residency in the old abandoned building with no magic and a monster as their only friend. Not to mention how easy it was for him to scare you the first few times with your lack of knowledge of magic. Teleportation was a new concept to you, and Lilia loved to use it to spook you. He had been serious the first time he met when he offered you a spot at the table to talk to them. He just never expected that this jumpy human would soon be the object of his affection, but when Lilia realized the feeling inside his chest, he knew he couldn’t deny it.

At first, nothing is going to change with him and how he acts around you. The only real difference is coming over to you more and more often. Popping up behind you and teasing about how easy it was to startle you. Even playing mind games and sometimes tricking you. He founds your reactions to always be refreshing, especially your problem-solving skills. While most students would default to using magic to solve their problems, you had to actually use your head and figure them out. So riddles and mind games were a personal favorite of Lilia’s to try out with you.

Soon Lilia will be inviting you to the dorms more and more often. Normally under the guise of how it’ll be fun, and maybe you could try out some of his newest creations. Not to mention Malleus has taken a liking to you, so of course, it makes sense to visit the dorm where it’s safe. Just be expecting that whatever Lilia offers you that day, whether it be a board game or him cooking…that’s going to happen. So on days he offers to prepare you a home-cooked meal that he slaved over…maybe avoid visiting. Or do and try your luck and not die. Maybe you could convince him to let you cook with him and try to salvage whatever atrocity he’s trying to whip up.

You’re not going to realize it until it’s too late, but Lilia has been slowly making you swoon this entire time. Even those soft and lingering touches will be melded inside your mind for quite a while. Once Lilia notices that you’re finally falling, he’s going to keep teasing you more and more. He’s going to make it so obvious that he’s clearly in love with you that even if you’re the densest person on the planet, you’re going to know. He won’t confess, though. No, he’s going to keep this up until you reach a breaking point and confess yourself. Just expect him to call you cute and squish your cheeks before kissing you in a response to your heartfelt confession.

Be prepared for even more teasing once you’re in a relationship with him. His biggest source of entertainment is to make you as flustered as possible. He finds you too cute to not tease you all the time. He’s also going to make fun of how you’re clearly into older men and will verbally ponder if he needs to be worried about you being around Trein since you “Clearly have a thing for Dilfs.” It’s okay to smack him for that, or you can just go along with the teasing and inform him that you’ve only had “fleeting thoughts” about doing that. Those responses are why Lilia fell for you in the first place, after all.

Depending on his mood for the day, he might offer you up his arm in the hallway when walking with you to classes. On other days, he might be the one clinging to your arm. It really does depend on a day-to-day basis. If you’re shorter than him, he might make it difficult to walk by being right behind you with his chin on top of your head. Your feet will practically be on top of his as he guides the way and laughs at your struggle. If you’re taller, then he’s going to be floating to do the same exact thing, but he might float just a bit higher to rest his arms on top of your head as well. Might even pinch your cheeks if you’re frowning at his antics to get you to laugh along with the ridiculous scene.

Lilia is going to be playing a game with you where he tells you some outlandish story from the way in the past and then asks if he was telling the truth or not. He’ll be on his toes as he awaits a response, wondering if you’ll guess right. The trick is that he’s always telling the truth. All those insane stories, you sit there thinking, “No way this happened in history.” Did indeed happen. He might even have a few photographs to show you. His stories never cease to entertain you, but you wish he wouldn’t tell you random facts about a period of time when you’re also learning the same thing in history. Not because they’re not fun stories…but when you take the test and realize you have to struggle between written history and Lilia’s memories…well, it can get muddles in your head.

Upside-down kisses. The bat dad is going to sometimes pop up upside down in front of you only to give you a smooch before leaving. You’re always going to be in a daze when this happens, and if it’s in front of your friends, they’re going to be so confused as to what they witnessed. Lilia is very much into PDA, but he does remember to keep it appropriate. He won’t be stealing breathless kisses that leave your legs feeling like jelly in public. Small kisses, though, or wrapping an arm around you are on the table.

He’s big into cuddling with you. At Diasomnia, it’s either you’re in his lap, or he’s in your lap. The same goes for Ramshackle, and his favorite moments are getting to go to bed with you while you’re in each other's arms. Lilia tends to cling to things in his sleep, so even if you are asleep on opposite ends of the bed, in the morning, you two will appear more like a pretzel. Sometimes you’ll even go to bed alone, and in the middle of the night, Lilia teleports into your room and crawls under the covers with you. Waking up to his face when you know for a fact he wasn’t there when you went to bed can be shocking, but not unwelcome at how peaceful he looks asleep (even if he’s a big faker because we know he woke up the moment you shifted).

It’s known that Lilia likes to use his boyishly good looks to get things, and most of the time, he’s just playing around. When he mentions he can change up how he looks at will, it makes you wonder a few things. Mainly if this cute boyish look he’s got going on is what he really looks like. Voice it, and he’ll laugh before dragging you to his room and making you close your eyes. When they open, you’re going to notice a few things. Number one, his hair is surprisingly long. Number two, his features are a lot sharper, and instead of boyishly good looks, he now has a more regal appearance. The most notable difference? Lilia…are you the same height as Malleus…or are you taller?

Sebek Zigvolt

He’s not going to realize he likes you at all. He just assumes that his heart races when he’s around you is an adrenaline response since normally when he’s with you, something always happens. He just assumes his body has adapted to it. Is his face going red when you compliment him? Clearly, you have some sort of cold, and you’ve managed to give it to him in .5 seconds, and now he’s ill. It’s not a blush, he’s burning up from a deadly fever that you give him whenever you’re around that also happens to go away when you disappear. Perhaps it’s a curse of some kind. Clearly, it’s not his own infatuation with you.

Oddly enough, it’s not Lilia who has to interfere this time around; it’s Silver. It’s painful for everyone close to Sebek to watch the utter denial he is in at having a crush on you. So Silver is the one who explains to Sebek that you don’t have a fever curse cast on you, and it’s not adrenaline that he keeps blaming it on. He simply has a crush on the Ramshackle prefect.

Even more denial over the fact that he’s crushing on a magicless human. How could he fall for someone like you? I mean, sure, you’re amazing, always in his corner, don’t tell him to shut up (might ask him to lower the volume but never in a rude way), and is fine when he trails after them like a lost puppy. He’s realizing maybe this is how his mother felt when she met his father. He’s also in a conflict about how being in a romantic relationship would drag him from his duties of being Malleus’s bodyguard, but Lilia is quick to explain even Knights are permitted to have a love life.

When he decides to finally try to “make you swoon,” as Lilia so kindly refers to it as he’s going to be awkward. It’s almost like a mission he’s just accepted where he has to win you over. He’ll try to hold doors for you but use a bit too much force and make the door slam against the wall as he awkwardly shuffles out of the way to let you pass. He might even try compliments, but they’re going to be the weirdest thing. “Ah, the cowlick on the back of your head is extra springy today!” He is trying.

Sebek’s confession will most likely be accidental. You two are just hanging out, and you ask him why he scared off that group of Savanaclaw students that, in hindsight, were trying to pick a fight with you, but you didn’t notice the hostility due to being used to it at the school. He’ll comment about how “If a knight can't even protect the love of his life, how can he protect his own master?” before realizing what he said. Want to make the poor boy malfunction? Grab his tie and drag him down for a quick kiss and tell him you love him, too, as your lips are still brushing against his own. His brain might stop working for a while. You might need to call Lilia because you broke him.

What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in spirit. He is always honest with you, even if you don’t want him to be. The good news is, most of the time, it’s very good things he’s commenting on. He’ll comment if you look breathtaking one day or how your eyes have a spark that he adores. He’ll also comment that the drool on your cheek when you wake up compliments your drowsy expression, though, so just be prepared for those awkward compliments. The good news is he is loyal to you, so you never have to worry about him hiding something.

PDA is considered inappropriate in his eyes, but he sees no harm in escorting you to your class after he finishes making sure Malleus is safely on his own. Might even have you tag along on his duties protecting Malleus, which you never mind since Malleus is also a good friend of yours, so it’s like a mini group hangout. Once Sebek’s master is gone, though, he’ll shyly offer his arm for you to hold onto and takes you to your class. If you give him a quick peck on the cheek, he won’t bite your head off, but expect to have his staring with wide eyes as you enter the classroom, a hand on the cheek you just kissed, and cherry red in the face.

Overnight cuddles are almost exclusively set in Diasomnia. Sebek needs to be close to Malleus if he needs protection, and he feels like he can’t do that if he’s always staying the night over at Ramshackle dorm. This is fine, though; his bed is more comfortable than your dorm's. The only issue is sometimes when you’re talking late at night, his volume might rise to a shout and disturb other residents. Lilia might gently urge him to visit you at Ramshackle and assure Sebek that he will personally guard Malleus that night, so there’s nothing to fear. Since it’s only Grim in Ramshackle, it’s fine to be a bit noisier as you talk about your day, so that’s a bonus.

He’s now going to be the guard dog of two people, and students are going to realize this very quickly. If Sebek isn’t with Malleus, then he’s going to be right next to you. If someone looks at you wrong or treats you with disrespect, they get an angry crocodile to deal with. Thankfully, he’s easy to reel in when worked up if you just place a hand on his arm and tell him it’s fine and to go somewhere else. He’ll always respect your decision and leave the student with a warning that if he tried that again, he wouldn’t let it go so easily.

Sebek is going to be stiff and awkward with the display of affection. Compliments come easy to him. He just speaks from the heart. Wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck? That’s something he isn’t used to doing and will take some warming up. Be the one to initiate it the first few times in private, and he’ll be better. Might even be the main instigator when it comes to kisses when it’s just you two. They’re always gentle as well; he enjoys cupping your face in one of his hands and drawing you in. You can always feel his smile against your lips as he pulls away from you.

Silver

Silver is going to slowly realize that he’s falling for you. The first sign that he might like you more than a friend is when he realizes he’s a little more awake around you. He doesn’t find himself growing as tired and getting into one of his sleepy spells. He’s just going to be a little more alert hanging out with you, almost like he doesn’t want to miss a single moment of your time together by falling asleep. His body's unconscious way of informing him that he likes you.

This isn’t to say he’s not going to be napping around you. Whatever condition he has won’t magically disappear once he falls in love; it just isn’t happening as often if you’re in the room. When it does happen, he feels comfortable enough to lean against you and doze off. If you offer your lap for him to sleep in while you’re reading or studying, he’ll be grateful and take you up. He’ll be out like a light but definitely dreaming about you. Run your hands through his hair, and he might even find himself nuzzling into your touch while still asleep, something that is honestly adorable.

Lilia is the first person in Diasomnia who realizes that Silver is in love with you and fully supports his son’s decision. Lilia has seen how you treat Silver, and he couldn’t think of a better partner for his son. This doesn’t mean Lilia won’t be teasing Silver about his crush. He’s even going to be inviting you over to the dorm for some tea and snacks after class as he tries to wingman for his son. Not that Silver needed it, but he doesn’t appreciate having more time with you. However, Silver is going to warn you not to try the snacks if Lilia made them. He doesn’t need you dying on him.

Cuddling is a step that will be happing before you enter a relationship with him. Yes, he’ll be asleep on your lap, but sometimes it’s more than that. If you two are studying in your room, sitting on your bed, and he grows tired, he might wrap his arms around your waist and drag you down for a nap. It’s a much-needed one, in his opinion, with how much you’ve been pouring over your books for the last few hours. Besides, he’s great at cuddling and will drag you against his chest and prop his chin on top of your own as he falls asleep. His soft hair might tickle, but honestly, he has a faint scent of lavender on his skin that lulls you into a deep sleep as well.

His confession is going to initially be an accident. You’re going to be at the dorm, and he’ll be leaning on your shoulder after falling asleep. He’ll murmur your name, and you think for a moment he’s woken up but looking at his face, he’s still passed out. He’ll murmur a small “I love you” in his sleep that is sure to set anyone’s heart pounding. Later on, when he’s awake, if you ask him about it, you’ll notice his cheeks becoming a bit pink as he explains he meant to tell you properly sometime in the next week, but this works as well. It’s a cute and genuine way of confessing.

He’s still a well-trained bodyguard, so expect him to have a protective side for you. When he’s not guarding Malleus, he’ll be more than happy to hang out by your side. He’ll be like your own personal escort to and from classes and even offer to walk you home at the end of the day. You want to go shopping, but it’s getting dark outside? Don’t even think about it unless you’re calling up Silver to see if he’ll be able to go with you. He likes protecting you, which gives him a little pride whenever you ask him to go with you places. He knows you’re probably perfectly safe on campus, but he still enjoys doing it. Maybe put his training to work when you get in a small scrap with students in another dorm.

Silver is a little indifferent when it comes to PDA. He doesn’t like or dislike it; it’s just part of the relationship. Or so he says, but he will melt when you hold his hand walking through the school. Small but lingering kisses are also something he adores, and the small pink tinging his cheeks is enough to let you know he’s not totally indifferent to those things. He might even initiate them himself, but he definitely prefers most things behind closed doors. He doesn’t like it when others can see those flustered expressions you make when he wraps his arms around you and drags you close, cupping your head and pulling you in for a series of small kisses. Those are for his eyes only, and he’s planning on keeping it that way.

Come spend time with him while he’s training. He might not be a showoff, but he won’t be opposed to you seeing his skills with a sword. It’s something to swoon over, and Lilia always is telling him that people like others who have special talents. Not to mention he’s a different person in training; you can’t keep your eyes off him. The way his body moves in instinct alone is impressive. He’ll also see if you want to join him for his club activities and go on rides with him. He’s going to find the most sturdy horse, so it’ll have no issue holding the two of you.

He’ll often find himself going to bed with you. It’s a calm and peaceful time; he really likes it when he can stay awake longer than you and just see how peaceful your face is. He’s been told by others that he has a certain beauty to him when he’s asleep, and he always thought it was odd. Seeing you like this changed his mind. He can see the appeal of how relaxed your body and face are. He also loves early mornings, especially if you wake him up with small kisses along his cheeks and neck, maybe a few on his lips. You being the first thing he sees in the morning while the sunlight is beaming down on you? Best wake up.

You’ll be dragged to his table for lunch at least once or twice a week. He understands you have friends and won’t pull you away from them, but he does enjoy you having lunch with him and his other dorm members. The Diasomnia dorm is his family, both literally and figuratively. He wants you to be close to the people he loves most. He always gets the same thing for lunch since it’s his favorite, but he doesn’t mind if you offer him a bite of whatever you’re having. He still wants his favorite meal, but a bite or two of something different helps expand his palette.

[navybrat817]

See Through You

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: You head to a carnival with your best friend and get more than you bargained for when your handsome neighbor bumps into you. Word Count: Almost 4.8k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, NONCON/DUBCON, unprotected vaginal sex, semi-public sex, choking, mirror sex, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, breaking and entering, threat of violence and implied violence (not against the reader), Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fix #8 Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Special thanks to @maskedmistress87 who suggested dark!Nick with mirror and choking and @sgt-seabass and @tumblin-theworldaway for spitballing. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @buckets-and-trees ​(thanks for the feedback and help!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was your best friend's idea to wear costumes to the carnival. Though it wasn't Halloween just yet, it was a good way to get into the spooky holiday spirit. You weren't sure why you decided on a Red Riding Hood costume, but the cape would keep you somewhat warm if it got too cold. So would the stockings. You even got a basket purse so you could carry your things around and keep in theme with the outfit.

If you were lucky, you'd find yourself a big, bad wolf to play with.

After adjusting the cape around your neck, you spritzed yourself with your favorite perfume and carefully set the bottle on your vanity. You always set it to the right of your jewelry box. Strangely, it wasn't in its usual spot the last few days. Just like your robe wasn't yesterday. You swore you set it on the left hook, but when you got out of the shower it was on the right.

It would’ve been easy to write it off as a roommate messing with you, but you lived alone.

“I really need to stop watching scary movies before bed,” you mumbled as you went to your dresser and shut your underwear drawer. It was ajar a few days ago. Had you left your place in such a hurry that you forgot to close it?

The ding of your phone pulled you from your thoughts, giving yourself one more look in your vanity mirror before you went to get the device.

“Two minutes away!” Kiki messaged you.

There was a slight chill in the air as you went outside to wait, but that wasn't why you shivered. Every once in a while, you had the feeling someone was watching you. Like a pair of eyes following your every move. It didn't make sense. There was nothing about you worth watching.

It didn't stop a chill from sliding down your spine as you looked over your shoulder every time you left your home. Or when you thought about the random things that moved around your place. As far as you knew, no one knew where your spare key was. You lost sleep wondering if some creep snuck in. If someone did break in, they didn’t take anything.

But if someone went into your place and didn't steal anything, what did they want?

“Nice costume.”

You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, almost dropping your phone as you turned toward it. “Nick, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he smiled, but didn't sound sorry at all.

“Sure you are,” you smiled back, your heart slowing to a steady beat again as you wondered how he managed to sneak up on you.

Nick Fowler moved into your neighborhood a few months ago. He usually kept to himself, but made it a point to give you a nod when he was going to or from work. While you wouldn't say you were friends, he was friendly enough with you and didn't bother anyone. He even helped you fix your cable when it went out some time back. As far as neighbors went, he was a good one.

And a handsome one.

The man turned quite a few heads when he unloaded boxes from the moving truck and you didn’t blame anyone for looking his way. With his athletic build, he carried the heavy items with ease. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen and his short, dark hair only helped to make them stand out more. The scruff surrounding his lips and along his chin looked long enough to leave a delicious burn if it ever touched your skin. You hardly ever saw him smile at anyone, except you. And he smirked at you on more than one occasion.

Like he had a secret he was itching to tell you.

“You okay?” He asked, taking a step closer. “You seem a little jumpier than usual.”

“Just a little tired. Haven't slept well the last few nights.”

“Is everything okay?”

You debated telling him what was going on since he sounded concerned, but decided against it. You didn't need to burden him with that. Besides, nothing was wrong. Just the spooky season getting under your skin. “Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. I’ll probably end up crashing when I get back.”

“Well, I'm here if you need anything,” he said after a moment. Those blue eyes of his meticulously looked over your costume. “So, you have a fun night planned?”

You almost tightened your cape around your body to hide from his gaze. Not that his attention wasn't flattering. It was kind of nice. Plus he was single as far as you knew and you never noticed him bringing anyone around. “Yeah. Going out with a friend."

Nick frowned a little. “He isn't wearing a wolf costume, is he?”

You swore there was a hint of jealousy in his tone, but you were probably imagining it. “No, she isn't,” you said, smiling as his shoulders relaxed.

“Well, it’s a great costume. You honestly look good enough to eat,” he said, chuckling a bit when heat crawled up your neck. “Sorry. I hope that didn’t sound bad.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I appreciate the compliment,” you said, both of you smiling as the warmth continued to move up to your face. “Do you have any plans?”

“I may watch a movie,” he said, running his fingers through his short hair. You tried not to stare at the veins in his hands or the way his sweater hugged his muscular frame. “It's too bad you can't join me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, not expecting his offer. Was it an actual offer? He hadn't invited you over to his place before. “Is it a scary movie? I like them, but sometimes they…”

“Scare you?” he guessed, his smile sympathetic as you nodded. “Well, you don't have to worry about any bad guys with me around. I can keep you safe.”

You smiled softly before Kiki pulled up to the curb. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, seemingly disappointed as he nodded toward the car. “Have fun at the carnival.”

Your smile slipped a little as he walked toward his place. “Thanks,” you called out, quickly getting into the car.

“Hey! Isn't that your super hot neighbor?” Kiki asked as you buckled yourself in.

“Yeah,” you replied, looking in the mirror as she drove off. Nick had stopped before he went inside and watched as the two of you drove away. It made you shiver. “He kind of invited me over to his place.”

“What?! And you're in here with me?” she asked, lightly smacking your arm. “You should've gone with him or invited him to come with us. You could’ve gotten laid tonight.”

At the reminder of your recent lack of sex life, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with having fun, but you wanted a bit more than that. Not like anyone had shown interest in you as of late. There was the guy who lived across the street who flirted with you weeks back, but he pretty much avoided contact with you the next day.

You wondered if he moved out since you hadn’t seen him since.

“You were already on your way and I didn’t want to just invite him,” you said, loosening your grip on your purse when your fingers began to ache. “It's weird though. He told me to have fun at the carnival, but I don't remember ever telling him I was going.”

How did he know?

“Maybe he guessed. Or maybe you mentioned it and forgot. I mean, you did say you haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“That's my own fault,” you said.

“Well, lack of sleep could be messing with your memory. And may I remind you that I told you to stop watching scary movies? They always make you jumpy,” she said, glancing over at you as her smile faded. Nick even noticed your jumpiness. “Look, we can skip this and go tomorrow. I don't mind.”

You shook your head and brushed the strange feeling off. She was right. Those films made you paranoid and she didn't need to deal with that. “No, it's okay. We deserve some fun.”

“You want some real fun, go visit your neighbor when you get back. He looks like he knows how to fuck.”

“I'm sure he does,” you giggled. You had no doubt about that. “But I'm not going to find out tonight.”

“You might. Who knows? He may even show up at the carnival to hunt you down.”

You both laughed, your smile bright and happy again. No one was going to hunt you down. No one was watching you. Your life wasn't some creepy movie. You just needed to relax and have a good time.

The carnival was in full swing, booming with cheerful music and shouts from people on the brightly lit rides. As you followed Kiki though, you kind of regretted not taking Nick up on his offer to hang out. Not even thirty minutes after you arrived, your best friend bumped into a hot guy. Literally bumped into him and almost spilled her drink on his shirt. Both of them had hearts in their eyes and they had been attached at the hip since. While you were glad she was having a good time, you were starting to feel a bit like a third wheel.

You also had that impression that someone was watching you again. Your skin prickled as you looked to the left and right, wishing the feeling would go away. It was silly. No one was looking at you. Everything was fine.

“Hey,” you said, tapping Kiki on her arm as she laughed at some corny joke. “I think I may explore on my own a bit.”

Her face fell as she looked between you and her new beau. “You sure? We can-”

“I'm sure. Really,” you assured her. She deserved to have a good time and would've encouraged you to do the same if you bumped into a guy. “I'll text you in a bit so we can meet back up?”

“Or I can give you a ride home.”

Surprise was written all over your face as you spun around. That was the second time Nick made you jump today, an amused smile on his face as you held your chest. He was in the same outfit you saw him in earlier, but he now had a sticker on the left side of his chest that stated, “Hi! My name is NICK”.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, his smile immediately fading as you took a breath. Your tone was a lot sharper than you intended. “I'm sorry. You just scared me again.”

Nick peered at you before he sighed. “Didn't mean to scare you or eavesdrop. I got bored watching the movie and decided to check this place out,” he said, glancing down at his feet for a moment. “I tried waving a minute ago, but I guess you didn't see me.”

You felt like a bitch. Maybe that was why you thought someone was watching you. It really was all in your head. “Sorry, I didn't see you.”

“Sorry I scared you again,” he said.

“It's okay. Really.”

“Well, neighbor, since you're here, you two should hang out,” Kiki suggested, giving you an encouraging smile.

What did you have to lose? “Would you like to join me?”

Your neighbor's smile was back on his handsome face. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

Kiki nudged you forward, moving you closer to Nick as your stomach flipped. “Text me when you leave or if you still need a ride.”

“Don't worry. I'll take care of her," Nick promised as she walked off with her new guy on her arm, leaving the two of you alone. “Lead the way."

“Okay," you said, maintaining a bit of distance as you walked beside him. You had no clue if you wanted to play games or go on a ride. “Anything in particular you want to do?”

“You.”

Your head twisted in his direction so quickly you almost hurt yourself. “What?”

“I said ‘boo’,” he said, pointing in front of him. The two-story, brightly lit funhouse had a bunch of random words on the panels, including “boo”. Why did you think he said “you”? God, you needed to get a grip. “Should we do that? It could be fun.”

With a small laugh, you nodded. “Fun in a funhouse,” you said, stopping when the carnival worker at the entrance held up his hand.

“I’m about to go on my break. Come back in thirty minutes.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, shrugging a little at Nick. Maybe you could find something else to do.

Nick, however, didn’t budge. “That’s quite a break. Tell you what,” he said, taking out his wallet and pulling out a bill. The worker’s eyes lit up when he saw the amount. “Why don’t you take your break and let us go in anyway? We won’t cause any trouble.”

“Stay the whole time for all I care,” the guy said, taking the money with a toothy grin and letting both of you go past to walk up the steps. “Enjoy!” he added, roping it off with a “closed” sign before he walked away.

“Go ahead,” Nick urged, waiting for you to finish going up the stairs first.

The normally whimsical music sounded strange to your ears. Maybe it felt spooky since you knew you were the only two that would be inside. Or maybe it was because the movie you watched a couple of nights ago took place in a funhouse. A group of teens went in. Nobody made it out. No, this wouldn't be anything like that.

“We really could’ve just come back,” you said, holding onto the railing as the stairs shifted back and forth. You didn’t hear Nick follow right away. Glancing back, you swore you saw him check out your ass. Not that he could see much thanks to the cape.

“You might have decided to leave before we made it back this way,” he said as you came across a spinning barrel. Just staring at it made you slightly dizzy. “Not that it would’ve been a bad thing if we left since Kiki ditched you so quickly.”

“She didn’t ditch me,” you argued as you stepped into the barrel. The sound of a laughing clown filled your ears as you did your best to walk in a straight line. “She deserves some fun,” you added, regaining your balance once you stepped onto a normal floor again.

Nick followed you so silently that you didn’t realize he was right behind you until his lips touched your ear. “So do you.”

Hot air shot out of the ceiling above your head with a piercing whistle, giving you an excuse to jump away as your heart pounded. His eyes sparkled in amusement at your reaction. “Like I said, fun in the funhouse,” you teased, putting your hands along the walls as the hallway grew narrow. It was still large enough for you to squeeze through.

“Especially since we have the place to ourselves,” he reminded you.

A shiver rolled down your spine. You wondered exactly what kind of fun he wanted to have and if you should’ve chosen your words more carefully. “You know,” you began as you stumbled into a Hall of Mirrors, frowning as you realized there wasn’t an open door or space to move through. Which mirror did you have to push to get to the next room? “You didn’t say why you were wearing a nametag.”

“It's my costume," he said, tilting his head like the answer was obvious.

You glanced around to see if any of the mirrors had any smudges, anything to give away which direction to go. They were all clean. “And what exactly are you supposed to be?"”

He smirked as he met your reflection in one of the mirrors. “I’m dressed as your neighbour who’s gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name."

You nearly fell into the mirror and he quickly caught your arm to keep you upright, the grip a bit tighter than you expected. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me," he shrugged a little as he stepped closer. “Almost wore a wolf costume so I could chase you down. The subtle hints I've dropped aren’t working, so I might as well spell it out for you.”

You tried to figure out if he was joking or not. Your reaction was to giggle. A nervous, soft laugh that seemed to wipe his smirk away. “Is that why you came here tonight? You were hoping you'd fuck me?” you asked, remembering your earlier talk with Kiki. “I don’t even remember telling you I was coming here.”

He tapped his ear. “I heard you on the phone with your friend.”

“I was in my bedroom when we made those plans. There’s no way you could've…” you trailed off, a sense of dread pooling in your stomach as he stared at you. Did his eyes always have a dangerous glint to them? “Nick, how did you hear that phone call?”

“Take a wild guess, sweetheart.”

You swallowed a little. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been messing with me.”

It sounded crazy to your ears and you didn’t want to believe it because blaming it on irrational fear was easier. But the single, unashamed nod he gave you almost made you crumble. “I never told you what I do for work, but I’m good with setting up bugs and cameras. And such a sweet thing like you living so close, I couldn't help myself,” he explained casually, like he wasn’t admitting to something completely messed up. “You make such pretty noises when you touch yourself.”

“You watched me,” you whispered, your head spinning when he smirked. He watched you in your intimate, private moments. What else did he do?

“Knocking out your cable gave me the perfect excuse to get inside your place without raising suspicion. You never would've invited me over otherwise. Though you really should be more careful where you keep your spare key. Made it way too easy for me to make a copy.”

You held your stomach to keep from getting sick. So many thoughts raced through your mind as he advanced on you. Why had you ignored your instincts? Did your attraction to him partially blind you? “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. Because you’re mine. Take you pick,” he said, wrapping a hand around your neck before you could move back. “You have no idea how tempted I was to break down your door and fuck you after watching the footage. Or every time I snuck into your place. I even moved things around in the hope you’d turn to me and let me 'help you' figure out what was happening, but you didn’t. You kept your distance. Your little ‘hard to get’ act was cute, but a man can only take so much.”

Each word he spoke added a new layer of dread and alarm. He squeezed a little when you tried to pry his hand away, tears blurring your vision. Shouting wouldn’t do you any good, but it didn’t stop the screams in your mind. “I wasn't playing hard to get. I liked you,” you managed to say.

“And you weren't trying to lead that flirty neighbor on either, but you're too sweet for your own good. Don't worry. I took care of him. He'll never bother you again,” he smirked as your blood ran cold. What did he do? “Or anyone else for that matter.”

The man was insane. “Nick, you-”

He cut you off when he pressed his soft and warm lips against your mouth. You were two seconds away from biting into his bottom lip when he spun you around and shoved your front against the closest, normal mirror. It didn’t budge. “I’m tired of waiting for you to come around,” he said, yanking your cape off. “Tired of just watching when I know you belong to me.”

You froze, unable to fight or yell when he shoved your costume up. No one would hear you over the sounds of the carnival and the worker running the attraction wasn't close by. Why weren’t you fighting? Why couldn’t you do anything to stop him?

“Nick, let’s talk,” you tried to reason. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

The sound of him tearing your underwear away made the first tear fall. “We're past the talking stage,” he snarled, kicking your legs apart before you whimpered. You weren’t sure if it was the sound that softened his gaze or the sight of your tears. “I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

His words did nothing to soothe you when he undid his pants. “You are hurting me,” you whispered. He hurt you by bringing fear into your life when he could've just asked you out.

“Am I?” he asked, parting your opening with his fingers. He chuckled darkly as he pushed a digit in with no warning. “Then why are you so wet?”

You whined in denial, but he was right. Arousal trickled along your thighs, your hole aching with the need for him to fill you with something larger than his finger. What was wrong with you? “No,” you moaned.

“Don’t deny me,” he growled, nosing along your neck before he bit down. You yelped, the sharp pain making you tighten around his finger. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Your body betrayed your will as he played with you and you were thankful momentarily when he pulled out. The relief was short-lived when you looked over your shoulder, just in time to watch him unzip his pants and take his hard cock out of his underwear. He’d break you with his size. “You can’t, please.”

“Yes, I can,” he said as he pressed the head of his cock against your sopping wet entrance. “Now be good and take what I give you.”

“Don't-”

“The only thing I want to hear you say is my name. Let’s let your pussy tell me how much you want me.”

You screamed as he pushed inside, your walls burning as you tried to accommodate for the size of him. He hadn’t prepped you nearly enough, though your arousal took some of the pain away. He didn’t pause to give you a chance to adjust either, as if the wet sound of you sucking his cock in gave him permission to take what he believed belonged to him.

“Fuck, your pussy feels better than I imagined,” he groaned, your resolve cracking as you opened your eyes. He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror and you watched in horrid fascination as he took you. The surrounding glass showed every angle of his claim, your reality becoming more and more distorted. He surrounded you. Consumed you. “And it’s all mine.”

You made a small sound as you braced your hands on the glass, forced to feel every drag of his cock. The more he moved, the more you tried to grind your hips back against his. It was shameful for you to like it, humiliating that you wanted to get off because of him. It was as if your body no longer belonged to you and maybe it never did. Otherwise, why would you want this?

“When I get you home, I’ll take my time. Get you addicted to my cock,” he grunted, smiling at the glazed look in your eyes. “I’ll record it. Make you see how much you love it.”

“Nick,” you gasped when he put his hand around your throat again, a silent command not to close your eyes or look away. You moved a hand to his wrist when it became harder to breathe. He loosened his grip enough for you to inhale and slid his hand down to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts with a moan. You moaned, too.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Look at you. Look at us,” he groaned as he thrust faster. The hand on your chest moved back to your throat when he reached under your skirt. “See how perfect we are together? How well you take my cock? You know you belong to me.”

The sloppy sounds of your cunt got louder as he found your clit and rubbed it quickly. It was almost too much, but you craved more. What was the point of denying him when your pussy kept trying to pull him back in? Why fight the inevitable pleasure when your body surrendered to him?

You weren’t sure how much time had passed and it didn’t matter. You were lucky to remember your own name. He was fucking you dumb and you wondered why the fear faded. You knew it would return when he finished, but you felt ecstasy for now.

“My fucking slut. Never letting you go,” he said, pinching the bundle of nerves with a smirk as you breathed his name. The familiar twist of pleasure grew and his name was the only word you said as dark indulgence flooded your veins. You were going to come and there was nothing you could do to stop it. “So come for me. Right. Fucking. Now.”

The rough demand made your fluttering hole squeeze around him almost painfully. You struggled to hold back, but the release washed over you like a tidal wave. All you could do was helplessly pant as you trembled, his soaked cock thrusting still so he could join you in sweet bliss. And you wanted it. You wanted him to come inside you.

You could hate yourself later for wanting it so badly.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, his name falling from your lips as he tipped over the edge. You spasmed around him still as he finished, your cunt filled to the brim. “Mine.”

You gasped for air as he buried his face in your neck, your body shaking as you pressed your forehead against the glass. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Maybe once you had the strength you'd run. Scream. Cry.

“Look at me,” Nick breathed, his lips touching your pulse. You blinked some of the haze from your eyes as you lifted your head, your heart still racing out of control. Minus the darkened tint in his cheeks, he looked normal. Not a hair out of place. Like he hadn't forced himself on you. “Didn't have to be like this, but it would've happened no matter what."

You nodded, believing him. He took you in the middle of the funhouse without a care of getting caught. He got what he wanted.

“And don't even think about running away from me or I'll chase you down,” he added.

Feeling his spend slide out of you as he pulled out helped the reality of the situation sink in. He took you and you didn't stop him. “I won't,” you answered in a small voice you didn't recognize as he tucked himself away and fixed his pants.

“Good,” he smiled, retrieving your cape from the ground and wrapping it back around you. “Because I'd hate for anything to happen to Kiki. Such a nice coincidence that some guy bumped into her, isn't it?”

You shook your head quickly, tears forming in your eyes again. “No, don't hurt her,” you begged. If what he said about your neighbor was true…

Nick cooed as he framed your face and gently kissed your lips. It was so tender and you almost believed he was capable of being good. Almost. “Be mine and I won't.”

He said it casually, but his eyes told you not to defy him. “I'm yours,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling a hand away to check his watch. “Time's almost up. Let's go.”

You had a hard time moving your feet, but he put an arm around you to help. It was like you were drunk, unable to see or think straight as he quickly found which mirror to exit through. You just wanted to go home, but he took your safe haven away.

Was Nick Fowler your villain or was he an antihero for doing whatever it took to get you?

“Don't worry. We'll let Kiki know you got home safely. You can even tell her I asked you out tonight,” he said, flashing a smile at you that made him look like he'd take a bite out of you. “And when we get back to my place, I'll get you addicted to my cock like I promised.”

So, what do we think? Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

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