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#it's been a delight to watch him mature
fbwzoo · 1 year
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It looks like Spring ended up being Emma's emotional support dog which is funny to me because my mom adopted a very neurotic high-strung chi that ended up using my chihuahua as emotional support. I'm really glad that she took to yall so quickly and she looks so happy in the photos and videos you've posted. Congrats on being her ideal people <3
Thank you!!! It's been so odd having her decide I'm The Person, but it's also extremely cute.
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Having Spring & Addy both be pretty confident and chill dogs definitely helps - and her sister is doing better as well, for the same reason. It's exactly what everyone was hoping for with separating them & we're still thrilled it's been working so well. They just fed off each other's fear & anxiety, but are more than willing to follow confident dogs as well.
Spring is just such a good boy. He's an ESA for me & the other humans too. If anyone gets upset or isn't feeling well, he insists on being on them to snuggle it better. And he just wants to be friends with everyone & everything (minus some anxiety still in public with strangers). The boy is just Friend Shaped. Two brain cells and they're completely devoted to emotional intelligence.
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allurilove · 22 days
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Yandere Husband x you
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Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: possessive behavior, manipulation, pregnancy/ baby trapping, cunnilingus, fem reader, p in v sex, dry humping, stalking, he’s a very deceptive man
*Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last post of yan!husband 😭🩵 This is a continuation off of my last post, and he’s only referred to as “your husband.” his only existence is to be obsessed with the reader, and without you, he ceases to exist. Here is the third part! This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your husband is over the moon. He infiltrated your life, and he will make sure you never forget it. His obsession love for you is taken to new heights, a newest edition blessing your family.
You hated being pregnant as much as you hated being lied too. After learning he’s been stalking you, and purposefully feeding you lies about your whole interactions just being “fate,” he finds ways to make you forgive him.
What a fucking creep. Your husband thought as he watched the realtor get too handsy with you. Actually, everyone was trying to put their hands on you. You were carrying his baby, but others would put their hand on your stomach, acting as if it was theirs. He stiffened as the realtor tried to make a lame joke about the master bedroom.
He automatically appeared by your side, removing the realtors hands on your baby bump. He was in a bad mood the whole entire day. When you two go back home, he pulled you to the bedroom. He’s more careful with your body now, and he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He crawled next to you.
His arms wrapped around you possessively, his face digging into your neck, and you hear him whisper sweet things into your skin. He pressed kisses onto your shoulder, his hands wandering around your body before he groped at your chest.
You’ve gained weight, which was natural and just a part of the process. He loved to fondle your thighs, and his hands start to move upwards. Your husband slipped his hand underneath your dress, his hands touching your inner thigh and near your warmth. He was always the big spoon, loving how you feel in his arms.
“Oh dear…” Your husband whispered in delight, his eyes glancing down to see his hardened dick.
Your husband would always be erect around you, his hands revealing your plump ass to him and he gently smacked it. You scoff and push him away. You still haven’t forgotten…. you thought you found a friend, a guy to talk to about your stresses and worries in life. But he was the perpetrator.
“I said I was sorry…” Your husband frowned. “You sure know how to hold a grudge…”
When you shoot him a glare and make it clear you were still upset, he raised his hands in surrender. “Alright… let me make it up to you.”
Your husband pulled your legs apart, and his hands automatically went for your panties.
You remember a time when he first went down on you. You were in a vulnerable position at the time, as you ran and ran from your stalker, however you couldn’t help feel a bit of happiness. This was a confirmation that you weren’t hallucinating, and all of your friends that didn’t believe you, could suck it. But it also meant you weren’t just delusional, and someone was actually following you. Fatigue settled into your body, and you rested on the wall as you try to catch your breath.
Your husband, who was just a friend at the time, conveniently was walking past. He looked worried, and he feigned innocence when he pretended that he didn’t see a man following you. He walked you back home that night, and he got you so comfortable around him- that his fingers were easily slipping inside you. His tongue lapping up any juices that flowed out of you, and he pressed kisses on your folds.
He was a vessel of safety, and at the time you thought you would be fine for awhile. Completely unaware that your stalker was now sleeping in the same bed as you.
Your husband moaned as his mouth latched onto your cunt, his hands now trailing upwards to feel your stomach. His heart fluttered, and his mind was plagued of ways to keep you by his side forever. Spilling his seed inside you was one thing, and marrying you was another… but he needed something more binding.
He was a bit afraid of hurting the baby, and he always tried different ways of pleasing you than using his dick. He pulled down his pants and he lowered his hips, just enough to be rubbing against your wet core. You feel the soft fabric of his boxers touching your clit, and his lips connect with yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue.
You remember the time when you found out you were pregnant. You were suddenly sick, and your husband was by your side, just mindlessly playing with your tits. He did that often as he read his newspapers, his hand would crawl underneath your shirt, and his excuse was that he just needs something to fondle. That was when you found out he was not who he said he was. That the times he “bumped” into you, was him finding out your schedule, your routine, and months of stalking.
“What are you thinking about, hmm?” Your husband whispered in your ear, one of his hand grabbed onto your ass to help you follow his rhythm. He continues to grind himself onto you, his other hand playing with your hair.
“What will it take for you to forgive me?”
“Will it help if you hit me?” Your husband scoffed as you screamed at him for hours. You cried your heart out, and the person you loved at the time, was the reason for your paranoia. You can still feel his kisses on your neck, the way he pulled your clothes off, and when he bent you over on the dresser, you couldn’t move. His body was smushed right against yours, he humiliated you, made you feel desperate for release, and made your toes curl.
As he fucked you from behind, he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. The way drool dribbled down your mouth as you let out silent screams, your eyes rolling back as his thrusts were hard, and demanding submission. You despised him, the way he puts his hands on you, and the way he made you cum.
“…You’re crying..?” Your husband was stumped as tears welled up in your eyes and you started to sniffle. “Because of me?”
You’re tired of him trying to make it up to you. If he really wanted too, he would’ve came clean long time ago and go to jail for fucks sake. You feel his eyes zero in on your tears, watching it dribble down to your chin, and out of curiosity he licked them. He kisses your cheeks and he wraps his arms around you again. You feel suffocated having him on top of you, and you wish someone would take pity on you and take you away.
“I’m sorry.”
You’ve heard it countless of times, each meaningless and empty.
Allure: Sorry that this took awhile! I had to redo this a couple of times, and I wasn’t sure what to write really.
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maxtermind · 1 month
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HEYYY!!! I’ve been looking at smut prompts all day and my brain is packed w fic ideas. May i request a mv1 fic with prompts “no underwear?”, “did you wear this just for me?” and “dont worry about the damn clothes, i’ll just buy you new ones” with spanish!reader and kind of like friends w tension vibes???
i want you all to myself
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★ : feat :: max verstappen x reader ★ : genre :: mature ★ : word count :: 800 ★ : a/n :: this is not a tease, i genuinely don't think i can write good smut. but tension and yearning? hell yeah! not specifically spanish!reader because i wasn't sure what you wanted me to add for that.
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The air crackled with tension as you stood face to face with Max, his gaze intense, almost palpable against your skin. Your heart raced with anticipation, every nerve on edge, as you waited for him to speak.
Max broke the silence, his voice teasing yet laced with an unmistakable desire that sent shivers down your spine. ”No underwear?” he hissed, his tone suggestive, his eyes lingering on you with a mix of amusement and something deeper.
”Oh.” You taunted, reveling in the way he struggled to maintain his composure. A coy smile playing on your lips as you watched his face flush and his hands clench tightly. ”Don't hold back on my account.”
You forced a casual smile, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him.
His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find words, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Did you wear this just for me, darling?” Max's voice wavered slightly, betraying the intensity of his longing as he shamelessly eyed you.
Your lips curved into a smirk as you closed the distance, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Maybe I did,” you admitted, keeping your voice low, delighted to see the effect that had on Max.
Max groaned before reaching forward for the fabric of your dress, his fingers tightening around it as he pulled you closer. He looked at you as if he was mad as to why you were still not losing your sanity like he was.
Not knowing that the only reason you had pulled this stunt was because your patience had run dry.
The tension between you was palpable, a silent dance of desire and uncertainty as you stood locked in a silent exchange, each daring the other to make a move. That was before he aimlessly pushed forward and the sound of your poor dress echoed in the silence.
You gasped and tried to pry away but Max instead pulled you closer, resting his forehead on yours. His skin flushed as he sighed to stay calm and get himself together.
”Don't worry about the damn clothes,” Max grunted, his voice sending a rush of heat through your veins. Frustratingly pulling the torn material down your body in a frantic manner. ”I'll just buy you new ones.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a surge of insecurity washing over you, making you hold his hands under yours, not letting him see you yet. ”You'll buy me new ones, huh?”
Before you could carry on, your lips met in a heated kiss, so hard that the back of your neck, from where he grabbed you, pulsed. However, it had such a good effect making your legs shudder as ou sighed against his mouth.
Max was panting as he hurriedly tried to swallow all of your breaths and it made so much sense. As your lips moved together, you realized how much sense you guys made, how well you fit together.
Even as you surrendered to the passion, a nagging fear lingered in the back of your mind. It felt so insatiably good but you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you were to just ruin all this for a sultry desperate explosion. When it was painfully obvious that you ached for more
”I don't wanna do this just for one night,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with uncertainty. ”I want us to stay...” ‘Friends,’ would’ve been a lie so for the lack of a better term, you refrained from putting any labels.
Max pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a depth that took your breath away. ”I'm not going anywhere,” he assured you, his voice soft but firm. ”I wish I could wait, but baby, I- I want more, right now. I want you.”
Relief flooded through you at his words, comically short lived, because not even a second later, it got mingled with the desire that burned hot and fierce within you. ”I want you too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you melted into his embrace. ”Really badly.”
Max pulled you in for another kiss and you almost lost it on the spot when he smirked against your mouth.
”You’re gonna ruin everyone else for me, huh?” He laughed in disbelief and if you weren’t as overwhelmed as you were, you might have scoffed but instead you squeezed his body under your palms.
Max’s eyes dilating as soon as you said your next words as you pushed the flimsy material off your body.
”You already have.”
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( masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
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vagabond-umlaut · 4 months
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⁙ ensnared
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No matter what the world says, no matter what the world believes in, Gojo is nothing but a puny fly to the wily spider that you are. Flying headfirst into the gossamer web your skilled fingers have spun, time after time after time— The silk threads, perfectly tailored. Just for him.
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▸ Gojo x Wife!Reader; Tooth-Rotting Domestic Fluff; Very Very Suggestive Themes; Nudity; Mentions of Food & A Plant Dying; Gojo calls his wife 'cookie'; Everything is fair in love and war ;) [This Fic's Rated Mature -> MDNI!!! ^_^]
▸ This is for you, Dilay! *MWAH MWAH MWAH* @roseqzpd
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For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.
One:
Sweet dishes, regular intake of which will put anyone into a hyperglycemic crisis. [Good thing, he isn't just 'anyone'.]
And the other one:
You. His wife. His sweet, sweet, sweetest wife, who's currently peering up at him from his lap, wrapped in nothing except a way too tiny bath towel— however– he instructs himself the nth time since you emerged from the bathroom– you are a temptation he refuses to cave in to... just for now.
Strangely cognizant of his mind [like you are, more often than not], Gojo watches you intently stare at his lips for a full two seconds. Then repeat the request you made less than thrice today, but your husband already feels his defenses crumbling.
"'Toruuu," you whine, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing closer, "Won't you help your wife choose a pretty outfit for today's get-together? I'm so confused... You want your wife to look the best among all the ladies there– tell me, don't you?"
"'Course, I do, cookie!" he exclaims, indignant as to how you could ever think anything otherwise— before a sudden ping! from his laptop sends him careening to the ground like a deflated balloon.
The poor man sighs. "But there's still so much work left to be done–"
"– which you can always complete once you've helped me, 'Toru," you cut him off with a pout, that slowly gathers a playful tinge as you ask, "Why are you behaving like this, though? Usually, you jump at the faintest chance to get out of paperwork. But now..."
Eyes growing comically wide, your voice sinks to a conspiratorial whisper. So worried, so cute. "Did anyone threaten to leak where your secret sweets stash is, 'Toru? If you– you know– submit these reports too late like always, eh?"
The only response your husband manages to eke out for your query is a very strained chuckle... 'cause, yeah, that's right.
Nanami promised to do exactly that– telling his very dear but having-black holes-for-stomachs students where his foreign sweets are stored– besides telling you how the white-haired man hogged ten chocolates one day despite his allowed daily two– and how your favourite star cactus didn't die from age but from him overwatering it, that week you were on a mission in France two months back– should he submit anything late ever again... But, no, wait.
You were on a foreign trip when he was given this ultimatum, and returned only last night. And Nanami promised to not tell you these yet– at least, not any time before that damned deadline's over. So, how...
"'Toruuu," Your petulant self, very adorably so, draws him away from his musings. And Gojo swears, if he wasn't losing before, he certainly is now. Your watery eyes, lower lip jutted out just the right amount and your nails leaving a delicious trail on his undercut— they've always been too strong for the world's strongest sorcerer.
Groaning, he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. And darts his eyes to bore into yours lest they travel to your soft skin peek– NO, DON'T GO THERE. NOT NOW. PLEASE.
He huffs. "Okay, fine."
You open your mouth, probably to screech in delight, but your husband shushes you with a finger to your lips. He continues, shifting his tone to a graver timbre, "But only to help you choose your outfit– nothing else."
Lips curving into a wide smile behind his finger, your eyes gleam in terribly concealed delight. He has to actively stop himself from kissing you right then and there— there are still three mission reports left to be filed.
"And if I catch you trying to change the stream to anything else," he warns. You nestle closer into him, blinking your gorgeous eyes up at him in silent wait. A chuckle [which sounds more embarrasingly choked than anything] leaves him.
Features shifting into something brighter than a supernova, you push his finger away. And giggling, say, "You won't go easy on me— right, 'Toru?"
[In hindsight, though, Gojo thinks he should have recognised this plan to be yours.
From the way you step out the bathroom, not in your usual bathrobe but a towel... To the way you beg him to help decide your dress, in spite of knowing well how he leans towards only white or light blue choices... To the way your towel– pretty conveniently and accidentally, of course– slips lower not even ten minutes into the task...
To the soft 'Oops!' you exhale but make no move to cover your exposed chest, a mute thrill clear in the curve on your lips as you watch him watch, drink in, mentally devour the delectable sight before— your ever-present coyness nowhere to be found even as he strips you, nothing hiding you anymore from his starving gaze...
To the smug smile you're offering him now, the next day, after he's been thoroughly chewed out by Yaga for submitting his work a whopping four hours late...
Your wicked, brilliant, bewitching eyes go from him, to the mountain of empty candy wrappers on the centre table, to the empty pot of soil on the windowsill– the one that had your annoying, attention-hogging desert plant– then return to him.
A shudder runs down his spine— which doesn't take long to transform into a shiver of excitement. And a very, very warm burst of fondness right in the middle of his chest.
The man shakes his head with a laugh, 'cause—
For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.
And he'll be a fool, if he is to mess with the second– and more important of the two–
You.
His sweet, sweet, sweeter than the sweetest sweet dish, but startlingly sharp wife.]
[Also, no joke, but isn't your 'Toru insanely in love with you, even more for that?]
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Gojo, some time later: My cookie is sooo smart– did ya know that, Nanamin? Hehe. Nanami: Why TF do you always hide in my office every time your wife is mad at you?
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▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.
▸ masterlist
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luveline · 11 months
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Hi love thank u for putting out all these fics and amazing writing! U don’t have to write this if it doesn’t speak to u I’m not sure if u write for sunshine reader but I would LOVE to see a sunshine reader with hotch
thank you!! boyfriend!hotch x sunshine fem!reader
cw mature themes mdni
Hotch can't help smiling at the sound you make when you hop into the shower. Your apartment isn't frilly, the shower a showerhead that's been installed inside your bathtub, curtain falling off the rungs. He can see a slice of your naked body if he looks, but he doesn't look. 
"Too hot?" he asks. He knows the sound well. The hot water hits your skin and you, a mixture of apprehensive and pleased, say, "Woah," or "Oh," or sometimes the less comprehensible, "Wohh." 
"It's really nice!" you assure him. "Are you sure you don't want to come in with me?" 
He's a thousand percent certain. You're lovely, but there's no time for standing behind you in the spray, shivering and trying to let you let him wash your hair or kiss your soapy shoulders. He's super late. You're even later. 
"You get paid better than this," he says, squeezing a dollop of toothpaste onto his brush. His, because you insisted and he practically lives here, a bamboo handle with purple bristles. It's strange, but you like them and he likes you. 
"Pass me my toothbrush, please?" you ask. 
Hotch squeezes toothpaste onto your brush and offers it through the gap in the off white curtain. You pop your head out, soaked, water running down your face and your arms. "What do I get paid better than for?" you ask, confused. 
"Your apartment, honey. I've had push bikes with more space." 
You put your toothbrush in your mouth. Conditioner has your hair glossy and darkened. You have the sense to pull the curtain to cover your naked body, though Hotch thinks sense isn't the right word. He'd wanted to say self-preservation, but that's too aggressive. The point is, if Hotch gets a look at you he might make you even later than you already are. 
"That's such a grumpy old man thing to say," you remark, beaming, toothpaste on your lip. You disappear back into the depths of your shower. In tandem, you finish brushing your teeth. 
"Hotch?" you ask. 
"Aaron. Call me Aaron, please. Hotch is work only, and you know that." 
"What about baby?" you ask genuinely. 
"Anything but Hotch." 
"Sugar pea?" 
"What did you want?" 
The water runs and runs, slapping the bottom of the tub and glancing off of your shoulders. "I really love you, you know? It makes me so happy to get to do this with you." 
The water shuts off. Hotch grabs your towel off of the warming towel rack and stands in front of the tub, barely enough room for you to get out and step down. He wraps the warm towel around you tenderly. 
"I really love you, too," Hotch says, wiping a missed glob of conditioner off of the top of your ear. "This is the best part of my day, even if we're like two sardines in here." 
You smile happily.
"I think I love you most like this," he says. "You look really happy." 
"Hotch, I'm always happy around you." 
"More like you're always happy. You're like a ray of sun," he says without drama. It's as true as saying the earth is old and grass is green. "But if you don't start calling me Aaron, we're going to have a problem." 
"What kind?" you ask, like this is a delight you're eager to receive. 
He ushers you out of the bathroom toward the bedroom so you can change before waylaying him anymore. He watches you get dressed, hands at his neck tightening his tie, and he knows how lucky he is to have you, how fortunate he is to get to watch you put your earrings in, tip of your tongue making a guest appearance between your lips in concentration. Eventually, despite all his willpower, and despite it being the really wrong time, he stops you in the middle of the bedroom and attempts to kiss you dizzy. 
"You really should've showered with me," you murmur happily, giving him two punctuating kisses in quick succession. 
"I really wish I had," he says. Even in your tiny, draughty, slip-and-slide tub. "Come on, before I make an unprofessional decision." 
You hold hands all the way to the BAU. 
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frannyzooey · 6 months
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Short Days, Long Nights: 16
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Joel Miller x f!Reader
Series Masterlist
Rating: Mature (some explicit mentions, tense situations, mentions of child starvation)
A/N: this chapter wouldn’t exist without @the-scandalorian and @bageldaddy , period. Literally walking me through it line by line, I could say a lot of really gushy things about them but I’ll refrain…just know, you two, that I could kiss you directly on the mouth. And will, when we meet someday. ❤️
A blanket hung to keep her in the shade, the sound of June’s babbling lifts into the air to join the soft give of roots snapping beneath the soil as you pull carrots from the garden. The distant splintering of dried out boards giving way occasionally cracks through the background, Joel grabbing another piece of rotted wood at the base of the shed and tearing it clean off, tossing it over with the rest he’s collected.
Brushing a drip of sweat away from your temple with your dirt-dried hand, you make a face at the gritty path you’ve left behind. 
“You wanna go for a swim?” you coo over at June, her cheeks plumping into a corresponding wet grin when you smile at her. 
Her bottom teeth coming in, drool pools around the carrot she’s gumming and slides down over her chubby grip, the edge of it glistening in her mouth. 
You make faces at her, her dark eyes fixed on your face in bright delight until her attention catches something behind you, and you turn when she starts to crawl towards it. 
“How are my girls doing?”
His shirt ringed with sweat and molded to his body, Joel blocks out the sun when you look up at him. His hand rakes through his dark curls, pushing the wet strands away from his forehead as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, the pulse in his throat thrumming fast under his flushed skin. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he lifts it to swipe it over his face and your eyes flash down, where even his torso looks wet: the dark hair that collects in a swirl around his belly button to lead down matted and damp. 
He watches with amusement as June crawls over to his boot with unsteady movements, her face set with determination. 
“Hey, baby girl.” His tiredness transforms into something softer when he greets her, his eyes crinkling deeply around the edges. A dimple catching under his beard, he bends to scoop her up from the ground, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I think I got enough over there to do somethin’ with. Definitely enough to board up that broken window in her room this afternoon.”
The glass broke while you were cleaning it: old age and the elements and a warped frame all contributing, and with the mosquitos being thick at night, she’d been sleeping in your room for the time being. 
“I can fix that shelf in the pantry with one of ‘em,” he continues, “and if anything else, save the rest for burnin’ in the winter.”
A rotted shelf in the pantry breaking in half, the chair in the living room finally losing a leg, an area of the deck now off limits: exposed to the elements and after withstanding years of neglect, the cabin was having trouble standing up to the constant wear of its new inhabitants. Joel had been fixing things as they happened, but with a limited supply of resources, the plan to stay infinitely that you both made months ago was starting to fray. 
The garden was going better than you could have expected, but the rest…the rest worried you. Running out of material to cut up and make do with, June’s clothing situation was beyond scarce. With the repetitive washing that everything had to stand up against, it was always fast to fall apart. Lucky that it was summer and so hot that she didn’t really need much, you had started to piece together things for the winter but there was only so much thread you could pull out of things, only so much you could fix and repurpose. 
Joel felt the pinch too, in his own way. Voicing his frustration, he’d tell you how he would repair things if only he had the right materials, recounting to you the actual issue and the thought process behind fixing it. Even reminiscing about the hardware store days of past, he’d mentioned more than once the one right by his house that he liked to visit, the one with free popcorn for Sarah while he browsed. 
With every item that broke and with every growth milestone that June reached, you could feel the encroaching pressure to make a choice: leave this place for the dangerous unknown, or stay and attempt to survive the dangers of isolation. 
Either was a gamble, and so undecided, you kept fixing what you could, with what you had. 
You eye the shed, your eyebrow lifting as you study the now sizable hole in the side. 
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about how we don’t really need the shed for anything, so if we need more wood, we can just chop the whole thing down. Right?”
You stand and he nods, using his forearm to swipe at more sweat that’s gathered along his hairline. Streaks of dirt and dust are smeared along the bare skin, and when June reaches out to grab at his face, he catches her hand and gives it a kiss. 
You admire them for a moment: the taut muscle in his forearm underneath her bottom, the collection of gray hairs gathered at the edge of his jaw that she grabs at, his wayward curls that match her own. They smile at each other, her face diving into his chest just above the collar of his shirt, and he laughs, gently tickling her back. 
When he catches you watching him, you think you’d see a faint blush creep over his cheeks if they weren’t flushed from the heat already. 
“What?”
“Nothing,” you smile, turning to lead them down to the water. 
You’re still smiling as he lays her out on the bank to get her undressed, watching his thick fingers brush against her cheeks just to chuckle at the way she chases them with an open mouth. Standing up with a soft groan, he strips down to his underwear.
Bare chested and tanned in front of you, his body is formidable without his clothing. Marred with the scars of survival and so familiar to you by now, he appears even bigger in comparison when he lifts June up. His large hand completely covers her dimpled bottom as they prepare to wade in, and his back facing you, your eyes run appreciatively down the broad slope. 
Feeling your gaze, he smirks, and a glimmer of the confident, teasing Joel that’s been coaxed out of hiding peeks from beneath the surface. “See somethin’ you like?”
“There is something about when you hold her,” you admit. “You look so…big and strong.”
Rising on your tiptoes, you tuck your face into his neck to hide from the slight embarrassment you feel. Finding his sweat salt skin with your mouth, you give him a kiss and he hums in appreciation, the vibration of it felt against your lips when you give him another one. 
“You really like it, huh.” More a smug statement than a question, his expression matches his tone when you pull back to look at him. 
“I do,” you murmur, nosing along the edge of his jaw. “It makes me wanna have all your babies.”
Drunk on the heat of the afternoon sun and on your affection for him, you smile lazily up at him and he grins right back, winding his arm around your waist to keep you close. 
“S’that right,” he murmurs, low and gravely. His voice slips through you and your pulse picks up, his humid breath ghosting across your lips. “All of ‘em, huh?”
You nod, and with hooded eyes, he grins. 
“Don’t jinx us now, honey. Can’t be sayin’ that kinda stuff.”
His dark eyes make a slow, heated circuit down to your collarbones and back up, and arousal hooks behind your belly button fast and sharp. 
Dragging his gaze from you, he turns his attention to June. “Besides, I think this squirrely girl is all we can handle right now, anyway.”
His shoulders swathed in sunlight, Joel wades in as you strip to join them. The water is crisp and cool against your skin when you slip in, and you submerge yourself for a moment before resurfacing closer to them. 
Joel holds June around her back as he lets her float on the surface, water from her kicking legs flying up to cover his bare chest.
“You gonna be a swimmer? You gonna be a fish, baby?”
It’s easy to forget that the outside world exists when there is nothing but bird song and cicadas and the rippling water around you. No infection, no death, no fight for survival. Just Joel carefully scooping water to pour over June’s head, his soothing voice telling her to hold her breath as he ducks them under the surface, his practiced movements carefully transferring her into a one armed hold when you swim closer.
Tilting your chin up, you offer your wet mouth to him for a kiss. 
His body is firm and warm against yours, your hand reaching to cup the curve of his jaw to deepen the press of your mouths together and the kiss pulls you in just like the current that wraps and molds your body close to his. Slipping your arms around his neck, you savor his taste until June lets out a soft cry. 
Her wet fist rubbing at her eye, you reach to take her in for her afternoon nap.  Emerging from the water, you feel the awakened heat in his gaze trained on your body all the way up to the cabin. 
June is fast asleep in your room when he lays you out on the bed in the room next door, squeezing your bodies together on the twin-sized narrowness. His broad shoulders flex and shift under your knees, his river damp curls sliding through your hold as he licks you open, and when you arch into the wet heat of his mouth with a silent cry, he swallows everything you give him with a rumbled groan. 
His skin is dry and smooth against yours when he fits his solid body between your legs, reaching down to guide himself into a place reserved just for him with slick, filling stretch and he murmurs his secret wants directly into your skin, a push inside you for each one.  
“Wish you could have all my babies. Make you the prettiest momma.” 
He breathes against the valley of your breasts, into the hollow under your ear, and against your mouth, just before he captures it with a kiss. His words dripping with reverence, you keen underneath him, arching your back to force him deeper. 
“I wish I could too,” you softly moan. “I want it.” 
Blatant hunger slips into his movements, harsh, filling punches of his hips bringing you up and over the edge, and your mouths stay together in a humid press until you feel him come, his need spilling thick along the inside of your thigh.
Afterwards, his sated body relaxes on top of yours.
Your fingers collect his curls in a rhythmic, soothing motion, following the timing of your chest rising and falling beneath his cheek. His breath puffs across your skin, and your eyes flutter shut, the heat of the afternoon lulling you to sleep. 
Twitching lightly in his sleep, his hold on you tightens and the corner of your mouth lifts. His weighted body covering yours like a shield, a gentle breeze stirs the stagnant air around you, and a tendril of a thought slips through your sleepy mind.
Heaven. 
Your fingers dance along the produce in the pantry, your lips moving silently as you keep count in your head. More food than you could have ever dreamed of when you first broached the plan, the produce now crowds out the canned goods, and shifting in your crouch, you let the sun into the small space, narrowing your eyes in focus.
The back door to the cabin bangs open, startling you, and June launches into a responding cry seconds later, just as Joel rounds the doorway. Before you can stand, he hooks his hand around your elbow, tugging you up. 
“Go to the bedroom. Now.”
“What –”
“Someone’s comin’. I heard 'em’ in the woods. A couple of ‘em at least.”
Stomach bottoming out in immediate panic, you scramble up and head to your bedroom, scooping up June along the way. Bouncing her lightly in your arms to quell her cries, a cold sweat breaks out along your back, and crossing the hallway, you head for the predetermined snug spot in the corner next to the dresser, grabbing your gun from the top drawer. 
“You stay until I tell you it’s safe, okay? Don’t move from this spot. You got your gun? It loaded?”
The serious, frantic edge to his words has you answering him immediately, your back pressing against the wall as you slide down into place. Giving you both one last look to ensure you’re where you need to be, he rounds the corner and disappears from sight, and you have to fight the lurch your body involuntarily makes in an effort to follow him. 
You’ve practiced for this exact scenario multiple times, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. During practice, there is no cold terror at what could happen. During practice, it was easy to go through every movement with calm motions. 
Now,  you try to inhale deep, steady breaths in an attempt to slow down the pounding of your heart, knowing June will sense your unease.
“Shhh, baby. It’s okay. I know, I know. It’s okay.” Your voice comes out low and smooth, your shaking hand betraying your nerves as it rubs circles over her back. 
Straining to hear over her hiccuping whimpers, you try to listen outside the bedroom. 
Nothing, for what seems like ages, and then:
“STOP.” 
Flinching when Joel’s voice breaks through, you shut your eyes tight, reflexively tightening your hold on June’s small body. 
“Put your hands up.”
A lone woman emerging from the tree line halts mid step, reluctantly pulling her hand away from the pistol at her hip. 
Weathered and weary looking, she looks almost frail in her slight build and Joel scans her for any more visible weapons. His own gun gripped tight with the butt of it against his shoulder, he slowly advances, his finger resting alongside the trigger.
“What do you want?”
“I was just passing by and I saw your cabin,” she calls out. “Thought I might see if anyone was home.”
“Bullshit. You can’t see this place from the road.”
A beat of weighted silence fills the grassy space between them, and the woman changes her story. 
“Fine. We –”
“We? How many?”
Her eyebrow lifts, along with the corner of her mouth. Avoiding the question, she continues. “We saw your garden. Thought maybe we would help ourselves. Especially now, since it’s just you out here.” Direct and laced with the barest taunt, her tone implies the easy confidence of someone who has the upperhand. 
Reluctantly shifting his gaze from her, he scans the trees, searching. A branch cracks somewhere within the woods, something shifting in the distance, and when he steps in the direction of it, she brings his attention back to her. 
“It looked like you have enough to share.”
“We don’t.”
An instinctual reaction tied to his days as a raider, Joel’s mind digs deep for the old lines he used to say. Lie about your numbers. Lie. 
“Don’t think about tryin’ anything’ either,” he asserts. “Heard you the second you walked onto this land. We got eyes on you from all sides.”
She lets her head fall to the side, frowning in skepticism. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
She takes a step forward, and Joel’s heart pounds in his chest, his face outwardly calm as his finger shifts to rest over the trigger. 
“You got enough ammo to kill us all?” She tests the waters, taking another small step forward, but when Joel trains the barrel of his gun on her and presses forward, she stops. 
“Listen.” Her face steels, hardening. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.  You can let us take what we need and we’ll leave after that, or we can kill you and then take what we need. Your choice.”
His jaw ticks, anger rising in his chest. “You’re not takin’ a goddamn thing. Get the fuck out of here before –”
A faint cry pierces the air, and he freezes, the woman doing the same. Joel’s body goes rigid at the sound of June’s cry, the woman’s eyes widening, and she peers over his shoulder at the cabin. 
June’s cries stutter for a moment before picking up in volume, and he pictures the exact face he knows she’s making. He knows that cry: an upset one that won’t settle any time soon. His heart lurches, an instinctual pull flooding through him to leave and soothe her. 
He pulls up straight instead, adjusting his aim square at the woman’s face.
Her hands quickly raise higher, this time facing outwards in supplication. “Look, I didn’t know.” Gesturing towards the woods, her tone softens. “We have kids too. The food is for them.”
Before Joel can move, a horse emerges from between the trees. And then another, then another. Trying to keep them all in his sight, the group collects in the area in front of him; June’s cries growing louder in their pitch from inside the cabin.
“Please,” one of the riders says. A woman, with a small child seated in front of her in the saddle. “If you have anything –”
“I already said we don’t.”
The coldness in his statement dies as his eyes focus on the kid’s face. While the rest of the group has their eyes on Joel, the child isn’t paying attention to him and his gun. Their eyes are solely fixed around the back of the cabin and have been since they emerged from the woods. On the garden, just beyond. 
“Please,” the rider begs one more time, quieter this time. “Please. We’ll take anything.”
Joel’s eyes linger on the kid’s slight frame, on the sunken rings underneath their eyes. Their face looks haunted, as if resigned to their hunger, and scolding himself for even wavering this long, he’s still thinking when the group's collective gaze shifts to something behind him. 
A door opening, then closing. 
Hearing the crunch of footsteps behind him, he sighs deeply, frustration evident in his disappointed tone.
“Go back inside.”
June quieted and left in the cabin, he burns next to you when you come to join him. 
“I heard everything through the window,” you explain. “I figured if you haven’t shot by now, it would be safe to come out.” 
A tension thrumming between your bodies in the air, you ignore the heat of his scolding stare. 
“Kids, Joel.” The word is spoken to him like a plea, and his jaw ticks before you take a look at the group for yourself. 
The first people you’ve seen in over a year. 
Worse for the wear with the sallow features of the starved, they look less…intimidating than you expected them to be. None of them have that shifty, hardened edge that you’d come to recognize in the QZ, nor the menacing, cruel stare of the people you’d met on the road before. They don’t look like how you imagine the other intruder looked either, the one you still see in your nightmares sometimes. 
Instead, they just look…tired. Hungry. The children seem dirty, but cared for. The mothers protect them in their slouched hold, the men remaining frozen under Joel’s command to stay still, his gun trained on the woman closest to him.
You picture the garden you heard them ask for: the basket of carrots still sitting in the sun, the squash vines spilling over the fence. You know they could kill you right here on the spot - but they don’t. They could have come in with guns drawn because you know they have them, but Instead they wait, trying to protect their kids. 
“I’m not gonna say it again, honey,” Joel seethes, measured and low. “Go back inside.”
“We’ll trade you.” 
A voice comes from a woman, clearly the leader of the group with the way they all keep glancing her way in silent deference, waiting. For someone staring down the barrel of a gun, she appears calm, her expression a practiced blank slate. Her age hard to determine due to the dust covering her skin, her voice is clear and measured, like she’s used to negotiating. 
“You don’t look like you have anythin’ to trade,” Joel replies coolly.
Thinking of your dwindling supplies outside of food, you rest your hand on his arm. “What’ve you got?” 
“What do you need?” she replies. 
Joel’s head tilts in warning, his feet shifting to further solidify his stance. “Answer her question.”
Her eyes run down the length of you, taking in your measure for a moment. “Got some liquor if you want it.” She gestures towards a saddle bag with a tilt of her chin, but Joel is already shaking his head. 
“Already got some.”
She quirks her eyebrow up. “Fine. Some medicine?”
“What kind?” you ask. 
“Painkillers. Ibuprofen. Tylenol. Might help with –”
“Already got some of that too,” he cuts her off. 
Sighing, the woman appears to think. Glancing at a man to the left of her, they have a silent conversation for a moment before she looks over at the garden. Staring at it for a moment, she brings her eyes back to you. 
“What about a horse?”
Joel’s jaw tightens in distrust. “Like you’re just gonna give us a horse. How much food do you think you’re gonna get from us?”
She shrugs, ignoring his anger to focus directly on you. “It’s yours, if you give us enough food for all of us. Not just the kids. Respectfully, it looks like you have plenty. Certainly enough for two people and a baby.”
The assumption in her tone and the challenge in mentioning your true numbers makes Joel bristle, but the woman doesn’t back down. If anything, she straightens taller, rising to his unspoken challenge. 
Tough and firm, she waits. 
Leaning towards him, you lower your voice so only he can hear it. “I can give them some of the –” 
He cuts you off with an immediate glare. “We need that food. You know it.”
“Yea, but we don’t need all of it. We have some to spare.”
He stares at you in stern, silent disagreement, and you continue. “I was just in the pantry. We can’t eat it all, Joel. I know what’s in there. Trust me. Those kids need to eat. They can have those carrots that I just picked, and –”
His eyes flit quickly back and forth between the group and your face, not wanting to keep his attention from them for too long. 
“It’s a horse, Joel. A horse.”
He narrows his eyes at you, a war within them. You know he knows the value of what they are offering. Eventually, he relents.
“We ain’t givin’ up our fresh stuff. If we have anything – anything - it’s gonna be the old stuff.”
Thinking of the sallow child in the saddle, you silently challenge him, but he stays resolute in his expression. 
“Fine,” you back down. “The old stuff.”
“Some of the old stuff. Not all of it.”
In agreement, you face the group again. 
“Don’t move,” Joel instructs. Flicking his head in the direction of the cabin, he motions to you. “She can get you some things, and then you need to be on your way.”
“What about the horse?” the woman asks. “One of us has to move if you want it. Where should we tie it up?”
He thinks for a moment, keeping his gun trained on her. Picking a spot a ways away from the cabin, he jerks his chin towards it. 
“Leave ‘em over there.”
Two faded floral pillowcases in your grip filled with what you could spare, you approach the group with careful and cautious steps, Joel taking a couple of slow strides to the left to keep you in his sights. 
“Are you okay?” the woman murmurs quietly when you reach her, glancing at Joel. 
Looking at her up close, there is a softness to her that you couldn’t see from far away. Her skin is weathered but still youthful, her long brown hair tied in a loose knot at the nape of her neck and you recognize concern held in her gaze.
You frown, not understanding. 
“That man there,” she tilts her chin at Joel. “He seems like a hard one. Is he keeping you here?”
Right when you’re about to defend him, June cries again, making her displeasure at being left alone again known. 
Leveling you with a look, the woman repeats herself, this time more direct. “I mean it. Are you okay? Do you need us to help you?” 
The implication is all over her face: a hard, threatening man all alone in the woods with a young woman. Holding her captive, forcing himself on her. A grim reality you’d seen plenty of times before, you understand her concern. Still, your response is a cool one, protective in your own right. “I’m fine. He’s just protecting us, like you’re doing with your own people.”
She studies your face for the truth. “He hasn’t hurt you or the baby, has he?”
“Of course not.” You understand her questioning, you do. Softening the edge to your response, you add, “He’s - he’s mine. We’re together. That’s our daughter crying.”
Her body language seems to relax along with her frown and she nods. Taking the sacks from you, she turns to pack them into the saddle bag of the horse next to her. 
“Must have been scary, giving birth out here all alone.”
You huff, a small smile at the edge of your lips to disguise the way the memory makes you swallow hard. “Yea, it wasn’t ideal. We were lucky.”
“I helped her do the same a couple months ago.” The woman tilts her chin at another woman in the back of the group, and for the first time, you notice a small bundle wrapped tight to her chest. Hidden, protected from the elements. “You heal okay?”
“It was…rough, but I’m good now.”
Seeming satisfied in her questioning, she digs around in the pouch for a moment. Fishing out a jar, she hands it to you. 
“I’m not sure how old your daughter is, but…here. Just in case you need it.”
A bottle of infant Tylenol being pressed into your hand, you look up to ask if she’s sure, but she cuts you off. 
“Listen. We’re headed West. Towards Ja –”
“Jackson?” you interrupt, and her eyebrows raise. Joel’s impatience radiating from his position behind you, you ignore it. “Someone came by a couple of months ago and tried to take what we had. Joel took care of it. We found the map in his pocket.”
She smirks. “So he’s real protective of you then.”
“Is it real? Jackson?”
Unsure if you should be prolonging this conversation or even informing them you know the way they’re going, you can’t help the question spilling from your mouth. Curiosity pulled at you for months after you found that map, the destination now even more intriguing after seeing children in the saddle. 
“Far as we know,” she replies, stuffing the bags away. “We heard from someone that it's safe. Safer than a QZ, though that doesn’t say much. They’re trying to keep it quiet, so they aren’t overrun with people, but…” her eyes flick towards the cabin. “It’s supposed to be off the grid. A place for families.”
Joel grits out your name behind you, and keeping the children in the forefront of your mind, you rush to say goodbye, giving her a warning.  
“You can’t stay in the area or he will shoot you. I promise you, he will.” Clear and direct with your words, you think you see something of understanding laced with respect cross her features. Before you can stop yourself, you add in haste, “There is another cabin about two miles from here though. We’ve been in it, and it’s clean and safe for you all to stay the night. You can eat, get some rest.”
Her shrewd gaze takes you in for a moment, and you squeeze the medicine held in your grip, praying you won’t come to regret what you just said. 
The edge of her mouth lifts in a small smile, and you let out a breath just as Joel says your name again, this time in a stern clip.
“Tess,” she says. Acknowledging the way Joel just told her your name, she offers her own. “My name is Tess. And thank you.”
The two of you coming to a silent understanding, you take a step back as she swings up onto the horse next to her, joining a rider already in the saddle. Motioning to the group with her hand, they all start to move. 
“Thanks,” she says to Joel as she passes, but he stays silent.
Leveling her with a frown, he keeps his gun trained on her until they disappear into the trees. 
Backing into the cabin to ensure it stays clear,  Joel only lowers his weapon after the door is closed. You follow him cautiously into the bedroom, waiting for him to erupt. 
You can tell he wants to, a tight bundle of anger set between his shoulder blades. His body is stiff as he picks June up to make sure she’s okay, and all the while, he keeps his back to you, as if trying to stay calm in her presence. 
Her safety confirmed, he hands her to you before stalking back out to head straight for the traps and even after checking those, he stays on the front porch with his rifle, waiting. 
Busying yourself with calming June down and eventually feeding her dinner, his anger with you weighs heavily in the space. Peeking every so often at his stern profile through the window, you put June to bed for the night, avoiding him as long as possible. 
Afraid of the disappointment you’ll see on his face, you linger by June’s cradle long after she falls asleep, questioning your decisions over and over again in your mind. 
In the end, you keep coming back to her milk cheeked profile as she sleeps. 
The clothes you piece together for her. The lack of medicine should she get sick. The even worse situation she’d be in if either of you did. The people that came by today, the conflict that was avoided because they were reasonable. 
You were right to give those children food. You know you were. If that had been June in the saddle, you would have done anything to get her food — including making a promise not to come back, especially knowing another child was depending on that source for their survival. 
It required belief in people instead of immediate distrust, and though you couldn’t explain how you knew, you just knew they could be trusted. 
Leaving her to join him on the porch, you’re expecting a calmer discussion with the hours that have passed, but he is still angry. Angrier than you’ve seen him in a long time. 
Part nervous, part sorry, and part wanting to defend yourself, you tuck your arms around your torso and step outside to where his profile greets you. 
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just let them go, Joel. I couldn’t not give them anything. They were starving.”
He says nothing, keeping his eyes resolutely on the woods in front of him. 
“Please come inside. They aren’t coming back.”
He faces you, his voice cutting. “And how do you know that, huh?” 
You swallow hard, bracing yourself. “I told them about the other cabins. I told them they could stay the night there and get some rest if they needed – “
“What the hell is wrong with you?” His eyes flash in the darkness, his expression twisted with frustration. “We don’ want them to stay close. They need to move on, so we know they aren’t comin’ back for what we have.”
“They aren’t.”
“You think just because they said so, they won’t? You can’t just trust what people tell you. I know it’s been awhile, but I thought you woulda remembered that.”
Hurt cuts through you at his dismissive tone. This version of Joel is one you haven’t seen in a long time, a shadow of the man he was before he met you and it hurts, to be back where you were. To have him look at you the way he is. Blinking back tears, regret starts to seep into your mind, but you fight against it. 
You know he’s just protecting his own, and you are one of those people. His. 
“The woman said they are headed to Jackson.” 
At the mention of the town, he looks back at you. 
“Did you see the kids with them? One of the riders had a baby, around the same size as June. That woman – Tess? She helped deliver it.”
Chastened, he looks down at the ground at your mention of that time. 
“They wouldn’t start trouble with that many kids around. I know it.”
“They gotta feed them kids, don’t they?” He delivers his statement bluntly, looking up to hold eye contact with you. Weariness rings his eyes, his tone no less scolding for it. “You know just as much as I do that you would do anything for June. Anything. Including lyin’ to someone just to turn around and steal what they have.”
The truth in his words hangs heavy in the air between the two of you, and you press on. 
“I gave them ample food. They have no reason to come back. I even put some meat in there –”
At this, he stands, outraged. His jaw ticks as he glares at you for a long moment, eventually letting out a huff of disbelief. 
“Hell, why not some ammo too?”
Shaking his head, he glances away. 
Disappointment pours off his body, his back to you and a tear slips down over your cheek. All the words you practiced saying to him die on your tongue, every good point turning to ash under the heat of his anger. You understand his worry because it’s also your own worry, but…the way the woman looked at you, the way those women held their children, the hope held in the woman’s eyes as she talked about Jackson? 
They weren’t coming back. You knew they weren’t. 
You’d thought he’d at least be happy about the horse, but the thought of another mouth to feed keeps your own closed. 
Sitting back down, he flexes his hold on his rifle, resting it across his lap. His eyes won’t meet yours. 
“I’m gonna stay up and keep watch. Just in case they do decide to come back. You should just…go to bed.”
All of the fight sucked out of you, you nod at his dismissal and turn, going back inside. 
His disappointment in you eats at him.
Flares bright as he sits up all night, waiting for their shadowy figures to reappear. Simmers as he hears you soothe June back to sleep after feeding her. Lingers with a fade in his chest as the sun lightens the horizon, inky black turning into pinkish dawn. 
He knows you saw those children and gave without hesitation, thinking of June. He knows that. But he’s also thinking of June. Always. Equal parts impressed and frustrated by the hope that still exists inside you even after you’ve seen what the outside world is still capable of, he doesn’t know how you can still trust. You still give; you’re still kind. 
He appreciates those qualities in you, but to give away your rations and to take a gamble on them not coming back is more than letting your hope win. It’s dangerous, and he wishes you could see that. 
He knows now that this will happen again. Clearly a route marked on that map, it’ll be used in the coming months by other people. The fact that they could see your garden was bad enough, but the fact that it was a group of people was even worse. 
He can defend you against one man, but a group? There are limits to his skills; he knows more than anyone. 
You can’t stay here anymore. 
He fights against the knowledge, the memory of Sarah now woven in with the surroundings. So much more than a place for the three of you to stay hidden from the world, he sees it as a place where the four of you thrived: the ghost of Sarah visiting him freely here, as a welcomed presence. Finally not something he pushed to the darkest, safest corners of his mind as a means to keep her memory away from what the world turned into. 
Even in death, he protected her. 
He knows she’ll follow him wherever he goes, but that doesn’t solve the problem of wanting to be the father he’s got the chance to be with June as he is here — not as who he’d have to be, if you left. 
His palm running along the smooth barrel of the gun, he stares into the dark woods and keeps watch, his weary eyes ringed with the need for sleep. 
Jackson. 
Responsible for your safety and well being, does he take the gamble and bring you there? Does he find another spot hidden deeper in the woods, hoping that one won’t be discovered? One requires faith in the words of other people, the other requires faith only in his own skills. After everything he’s seen and done, he knows which way he wants to lean…but still, he thinks. 
Acknowledging the strength in numbers that you’ve been missing this whole time, a group encountering this place was a liability, but to be part of a group - that was a strength. Resources to help if June should get sick, other people around to take care of her if either of you should. Clothes, shoes, a shelter that isn’t slowing falling apart. 
Those were just the basics of human necessity, but other things worm their way into his mind. The things not needed to live, but needed to thrive. Socialization, a community. An image of  Sarah on the soccer field projects against the dark field in front of him; all grin and bright eyes at sleepovers, running around the park he used to bring her to when she wanted to play with her friends. 
Any QZ that he’s been in was never the suburb full of children that he raised Sarah in, but at least there were other kids. Other people. A means to provide more than what you could, here. And with Jackson being a place being off the grid…there was a possibility it was better than a QZ. The world-worn cynic in him knew it was a long shot, but still.
He pictures your shadowed face in the darkness, as you argued with him. The earnestness in your eyes, the words you used to try to make him understand your reasoning behind trusting them. He was too mad then to listen, but now…he understands why. 
Not only your belief in those people, but your belief in general. Understands that you’ve always needed to believe in something, in order for any of this to work. 
“No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.” 
He said that to you in bed one night, speaking of you and June, and he thinks about how you’ve always believed it in the same thing your own way: your something to fight for was a future still possible. 
One that you’ve shown him to be true.
Rising stiff limbed from his position on the porch, it’s almost light when he wanders back into the silent cabin. 
He tries to be quiet in the kitchen as he digs through the drawer for the map, and finding it, places it on the counter. 
Making his way to the bedroom, he crawls into the space behind your curved spine and tucks himself around it, holding you close. 
In your sleep, you reach for him and grasping your hand in his, he fits the bridge of his nose into the soft nape of your neck and closes his eyes. 
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randomishnickname · 7 months
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Must-read Destiel fics - my superduper Nov. 5th rec list
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Three years ago, on the blessed day of November 5th, 2020, I had:
never seen an episode of SPN,
only had a vague inkling of what the two pale coconuts were on about,
and I hee-heed and ha-had with the rest of Tumblr about the love confession scene and the Internet errupting in an unparalleled craze
At first I thought, that's it.
Then ... I got curious. I watched some YouTube Destiel supercuts. I read some fic (I think @andhumanslovedstories beautiful Cas/OC fic was my entry point?). I read meta. I watched some more YouTube scene packs. I read even more fic. I watched some of S4, some of S1, some random fan fav episodes. And then Destiel lodged itself so deeply, thouroughly into my brain that it took over and hasn't relinquished control in the last two years. The most tenacious, pervasive brain worm to date.
This ship got it all, and this fandom got it all, and there's such delightful, powerful, batshit crazy, romantic, expertedly crafted fanfic out there, it's like being a starving child in the world's biggest candystore.
So without further ado, here's some of my very favorite fics from this infinite trove, with all my thanks to the wonderful writers who keep delighting and awing me with their dedication and craft. There'll of course be some recency bias at play but you can browse my bookmarks over here to chose from over 100 excellent and well-curated SPN stories.
💕CATEGORY: SWOONWORTHY💕
Wildly romantic fics that warm you up from the inside.
It Won't Be Perfect by someonetoanyone (10K words) Summary: Dean daydreams about what it'd be like to let himself love Cas freely.
Why I love it: the humor, the spot-on characterizations, and the quintessential late season Destiel-ness of being so deeply love with your best friend that it's too big to actually do anything about. Just. So warm.
Rock Lobster by Ginger Fail (13K) Summary: Cas decides that the lobsters Dean planned to cook need to get back home. Impromptu beach vacation ensues!
Why I love it: This road trip story is fresh and invigorating like a sea breeze! Fun, entertaining and full of deep, deep fondness.
Seek to Know You Better by ahurston (32K)
Summary: On a road trip, Dean and Cas play the 36 Questions That Lead To Love.
Why I love it: They’re so deliberatedly, carefully starting a relationship here. They try so hard to bridge the gaps and meet each other halfway. A very mature take on love that feels nourishing.
☢️CATEGORY: BRAINWORMS GALORE☢️
Fics that make you go BARK BARK BARK.
samson went back to bed by piesexuality (9k, @twoheadedcas) Summary: Cas strikes a deal with Chuck - keeping his family together comes at the price of their free will.
Why I love it: What if Cas got his revenge for the Mala'ak box? What if love came at the price of everything you've been fighting for? What if a story twisted the knife oh so sweetly? Each word of this one lands a punch. Made me insane in the best of ways (cue pinned fanart).
In sickness by @saintedcastiel (41K) Summary: S4 redux but Castiel has a fetish: giving Dean the sniffles.
Why I love it: This one is soooo. Can barely find words for it. It taps into Cas' early season alienness and psychosexual obsession with Dean, brilliantly demonstrates Casdean vs Samruby parallels, and each word is just. Perfect. ARGH!
so much smoke in a hall full of mirrors by AreYouReady (6K, @autisticandroids ) Summary: Godstiel is losing his heavenly war. Crowley provides a compliant Dean-doll for him to release his frustrations upon.
Why I love it: Urgh, this one is sooo dark. Taps into the scary, intimidating and alien aspects of Godstiel so well. Gore, consent and psychosexual issues galore. Delicious.
Special mention: In a Parked Car, Exhuming Ophelia by @an-android-in-a-tutu (17K). Still need to comment properly ;)
💣CATEGORY: EMOTIONAL WRECKING BALLS💣
Angsty fics that tear you to pieces to remake you better.
What Used To Be Mine by someonetoanyone (48K words) Summary: Dean never makes his apology prayer in Purgatory - Cas dies, Dean mourns.
Why I love it: Oh god, this is a heavy hitter. Just, straight up insurmontable grief, packaged in poetic, raw language to make you shed tears and tears. Loved it so much.
Ignite your bones By ilovehowyouletmefall (67K, @angelinthefire) Summary: Dean accepts Chuck's deal: killing Sam to save the world.
Why I love it: Cruuuuel cruel premise for a story that doesn’t pull its punches. It gets dark in Dean’s head and everyone around him suffers. Wonderfully written. The ending set my brain on fire.
Right Where you Left Me by outdean (93K, @armandgender)
Summary: Cas comes back from the Empty after 10 years to find Dean married to another man.
Why I love it: This one is a riiiide. When grief has become a part of you but your love comes back… When you return from the dead and have to carve a new space into the world for yourself... nothing is easy here, but the emotions are INTENSE. Also, autistic!Cas for the win.
Special mention: Who Ya Gonna Call? by saintedcastiel (50K) and Clear skies in spring by enochianprayer (WIP)
💥CATEGORY: EPIC RIDES💥
Expansive, wild adventures with lots of ups and downs
Spirit of the West by teen_dean (140K, @urne-buriall)
Summary: An 18y old Dean grew up on a horse farm – cue veterinarian Castiel. The summer of a lifetime ensues.
Why I love it: So this is one of my very favorite stories, ever ever, and I cannot recommand enough to immediatedly suscribe to the author’s Substack to be able to follow it in „real time“ next summer. It’s cinematic, rich, full of darkness and light, it’s everything a story can aspire to, I’m just. I just really love it.
Second Verse, Same as The First by LaLaCat1 (135K)
Summary: Endverse!Cas is sent back to the start of S1 and is determined to make things right this time round.
Why I love it: a desperate and badass Cas, unfridging everyone, a thrilling plot, moments of awesome for the entire cast, gripping action scenes, a romance for the ages… this is a genuinely amazing story.
back road, black road by eden22 (167K)
Summary: 18y old Sam gets kidnapped by Hell on his way to Stanford. Dean tries to deal.
Why I love it: So this one’s not Destiel-centric but does have wonderful Destiel moments. It’s also very heavy on the gore and the angst (NOT for the faint of stomach), but expertly crafted, fascinating and frankly it deserves more love. Held my breath for half the read and never knew where it’d take me.
Special mention: It's The End Of The World (As We Know It) by tiamatv (140K)
🤪CATEGORY: DESTIEL INSANITY🤪
Uproariously funny stories about the intricate rituals these two weirdos get up too.
Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall (26K)
Summary: Dean teaches a newly human Cas how to be „a real man“.
Why I love it: Dean coming to Big Self-Realizations while trying to have platonic threesomes with Cas is so perfect. Very endearing, tender and funny. Also, smoking hot sex.
the cheapest room in the house by biggaybenny (89K)
Summary: Dean downloads Grindr for Cas
Why I love it: Just. Late season Dean being deranged about Cas’ sexuality while everyone watches on in utter confusion. Equally hilarious and deeply moving
according to all known laws of life by @sobsicles (29k)
Summary: Cas comes back from the Empty to a Dean who won’t stop playing gay chicken.
Why I love it: They are both such petty, insane weirdos in this one. They said „can every situation be turned into a squabble“ and didn’t wait for an answer. So funny, so tender
Special mention: Wedding Vows and Negotiations by GingerFail (6K)
That's it, enjoy and leave your writers some much-deserved love!
764 notes · View notes
flowerandblood · 12 days
Text
The Fall from the Heavens (32)
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, assassination attempt, misunderstanding, physical violence, swearing ]
Tumblr media
[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]
The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.
Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
It seemed to him that it was only when he saw her that he awoke from some kind of half-sleep – as she threw herself into his arms, rejoicing, he remembered with affection how often she had done so when they were children.
He, his mother and his siblings, at the invitation of his uncle, Ormund Hightower, had travelled to the Old Town to visit their relatives and, certainly in his grandfather's eyes, to demonstrate to the Black party the extensive support his elder brother had offered them.
Daeron, his youngest brother, was to stay there under his protection.
He regretted it deeply, for although he was much younger than him, Daeron was a quiet and curious child, just like him; he liked to read to him before sleep about the great dragons and the conquests of their ancestors, sharing his knowledge with him.
However, his mother and father decided that he would receive his education in the Citadel and that he would stay there for many years until he reached the age of maturity.
He did not think it was a good idea to separate him from his family, but he did not dare to oppose his parents' wishes.
Even then he lived in the belief that they were infallible.
He shyly suggested that his betrothed could accompany him, knowing how much she wanted to see the legendary city, and in fact, he felt that her presence by his side would be something he would cherish.
However, his Queen responded to his proposal coldly, saying that Rhaenyra would surely be concerned about her and that she would not be separating the little girl from her mother.
His niece received this news with sadness, however, she beamed at his words that he would bring her some sort of memento from the Old Town.
Indeed, the Hightower family stronghold and the great white tower dominating the entire city made a gigantic impression on him. History beat from the buildings and tenements built of white stone, hundreds of years that had passed since Aegon the Conqueror had set foot there, walking the exact same streets as he had.
He thought sadly that he regretted not having his Rhaenys with him, for she would surely have delighted in everything around him, sharing with him this common joy, giving him the feeling that he was experiencing it all with someone rather than his older brother − he was yawning, bored, looking around only for a place to sit and drink wine after supper.
He might have found the time he spent there enjoyable had it not been for the fact that he felt lonely − despite spending time with his family and finally not having to watch Jace and Luke, he felt neither satisfaction nor contentment as a result.
He thought helplessly, lying alone in bed, that although he had a solitary nature, he had become used to her presence, the warmth she emanated, to the tender, soft embrace of her arms, the sound of her heartbeat under his cheek as he fell asleep.
He realised then, for the first time in his life, that he did not desire to marry her simply because of his father's will.
That he would have wanted to do so even if he had changed his mind.
The door to his chamber opened shortly after he had returned to the Red Keep − she ran through it with a smile wide and sincere, filled with laughter, her eyes shining like rays of sunshine as she was by his side a moment later, enclosing his waist in a tight, tender embrace of her little arms.
He smiled involuntarily under his breath, feeling satisfaction at the thought that she had immediately come to welcome him, which meant that she had missed him as dearly as he had missed her.
Taking advantage of the fact that they were alone, he enveloped her in his arms and cuddled her into him, pressing his face against her vanilla-scented hair.
"− I've missed you so much, uncle −" She muttered, squeezing him tightly, as if trying to melt into one with him.
"− there, there − your husband is by your side now −" He hummed, feeling proud, loved, wanted.
A thought flashed through the back of his mind that he had felt exactly the same then, when she had thrown herself into his arms in Harrenhal, when his hands had lifted her in a gesture of euphoria, when her legs had crossed over his back and their lips had found each other in a deep, lustful kiss from which his cock had swollen all over, slapping impatiently against her abdomen.
He felt like throwing her to the ground, pulling off her breeches and fucking her like a whore.
As it turned out, she shared this desire with him, for as soon as the door of his chamber closed behind them they behaved like animals − he took her as she stood, pressing her against the wall, pounding into her from behind with greedy, deep, impatient thrusts of his hips, her little, tight cunt barely able to fit him in, intensifying his sensation.
He knew he wouldn't last long, his cock was so hard it almost caused him pain.
"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mumbled, clearly feeling herself exactly what he did. He licked his lips, watching as he opened her wide again and again with thrusts of his fat erection, her folds glistening in the sunlight from their shared sticky wetness, slick and warm, welcoming him home.
"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He exhaled, ashamed of his own desperation and what was happening to him, his own helpless groans, the violent, desperate stabs of his hips with which he thrust again and again into the delicate flesh of his beloved wife.
Her scent, her closeness, her sounds were driving him mad.
"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He breathed out pleadingly, feeling how wonderfully close his fulfilment was, which after a moment shook his whole body.
He leaned his head forward and parted his lips wide, making indefinable sounds of pleasure and relief as he felt his wife's little cunt clamp down on his cock, sucking his warm seed deep inside her.
He embraced her at the waist, sinking his face into her neck, into her hair, trying to calm the rapid pounding of his heart and his anxious, ragged breathing.
"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, in his tone of voice something like a question and a request at the same time.
"− hm? −"
"− stay wtih me −"
He heard her sigh softly and for a moment he was terrified that she would refuse him, that she would reject him again.
"− I will, my love −" She hummed, and he breathed a sigh of relief, kissing the skin of her neck with tenderness and devotion with his lips swollen with fulfilment.
"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, at the same time wanting to focus only on her and wanting to know what the situation was like, whether anything had changed in his absence.
"− I'm carrying your child −"
He felt his heart stop, his healthy eye open wide in shock.
"− what? −" He mumbled.
He felt her take his hand in hers, placing it gently on her lower abdomen.
"− you're going to be a father, uncle −"
He tried to remain composed, but was unable to − a laugh of disbelief and joy left his throat, one he hadn't heard come from his lips in a long time. When her face turned to his he immediately shut her mouth with his, with a caress of his thirsty, wet lips showing her what he felt.
"− Rheanys − oh gods − this must be a dream −"
He became so euphoric that he took her twice more, the third time bringing her to such a state that the bedding had to be changed for fresh ones − he decided he would give the order after they had both rested, not wanting to rouse her from her slumber.
Bare, tired after the journey and the exertion he had forced her to make, filled to the brim with his spend and with his heir in her womb, she fell asleep peacefully in his arms, covered by him with thick furs to keep her from growing cold.
He thought that never before in his life had he loved her as dearly as he did now, although even then it seemed to him that his heart could not house such deep affection.
The thought that he could love her even more terrified him.
As soon as she was awake he ordered that a bath be prepared for them − they were both all sticky with sweat and he thought they could benefit from a moment of relaxation together.
After his servants had done their job and left his chamber they stood up, completely nude and shameless, sinking into the wonderfully warm, fragrant water. He pulled her in behind him and seated her between his thighs, a quiet murmur escaping his throat as her cheek pressed against his chest.
He was content.
He was satisfied.
He was fulfilled.
"− the gods are gracious to us − they support our cause −" He whispered, looking ahead with blank gaze, combing his fingers through her soft hair.
"− I wish to spend the day with you − I will order whatever you desire to be prepared for the supper −" He muttered, taking an unruly strand of her hair from her face, wanting everything to be perfect that day, his proof of how much he cared for her welfare and happiness.
His wife looked at him, her gaze clear and calm, without a shadow of regret.
"− I wish Baela would dine with us −" She murmured, raising her hand to his cheek. He closed his eyelid and pressed his lips together, reminding himself with frustration, though he tried to forget it, that his niece had not arrived in Harrenhal alone.
"− why? −"
"− if it wasn't for her, my mother wouldn't have allowed me to come here − she protected me and our child in the sky −"
He swallowed hard, letting the air out loud, feeling both discomfort and understanding at her words. Now that he knew his wife was with child, he actually appreciated that their cousin had not allowed her to travel alone and that, if only for that, he should show her hospitality.
"− so be it −" He muttered, wanting to end the topic.
"− where is Alys? −" She asked uncertainly, and he felt his heart leap up into his throat, his stomach squeezed into a knot. He ran his hand over his face, trying not to show his nervousness.
"− she is locked in her chamber −"
"− I wish to see her − perhaps tomorrow, when I…−"
No fucking way.
"− no − I spared her because you asked me to, but only for this reason − in return I demand that you do not go near her − she is a dangerous woman −" He said impatiently, all tense, feeling his heart pounding like mad, afraid of what else this hag might tell her.
What else she might lie about.
His wife seemed surprised by his reaction.
"− she helped me − she tried to protect me −" She mumbled out, and he felt something inside him snap.
In her eyes, this whore was flawless, and he was the cause of all their misery.
Was this part of her plan too?
"− she told you that she tried to seduce me behind your back by saying that she would carry my bastard child? − hm? − that prediction she didn't share with you? −" He hissed furiously, however he regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth.
He swallowed hard when he saw his niece shake her head as if she didn't understand what he had said, pale, her lower lip beginning to tremble, her eyes wide.
Fuck.
"− it's a lie − she was hoping I'd betray you, that I'd hurt you − I'm convinced this was part of Strong's plan − to distract me, to leave you alone and broken-hearted − the affection I have for you is a hindrance to him −" He explained quickly, raising his hand to her face, stroking her cheek tenderly, all warm with emotion, wanting somehow to soften his words, to make it clear that he had nothing to do with this vision.
That he felt as horrified and disgusted by her words as she did.
A shiver run along his spine as her hand stroked his bare, wet chest.
"− did you speak with her? − after you conquered Harrenhal? −" She mumbled, as if she was in complete shock.
He grunted, twisting in his seat with a quiet splash of water, unsure how to explain this to her without deepening her possible suspicions.
"− yes − I wanted to draw out of her why she did it −" He said.
"− you didn't tell me about her words − you hid it from me −" She said resentfully, her brow furrowed in exactly the same way as when he had told her about what was about to happen in the Eyrie.
He felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck at the thought, his breath stuck in his throat.
"− because that's what she wanted − to plant uncertainty in my heart and yours −"
"− how am I supposed to trust you if every day I find out that there is still something I don't know about? −" She muttered in pain, wanting to lift herself out of the water. He grabbed her waist in a gesture of horror and surprise, forcing her to fall between his thighs again, looking at her in disbelief.
"− if it wasn't for your request, she would already be dead −"
"− only dead will she give you the confidence that you will not do what she prophesied? −"
He let out a loud breath at her words, angry and hurt, feeling the accusation in her question, though when she was not by his side after he had locked Alys in her chamber, he did not devote his thoughts or his fantasies to this woman.
In truth, the fact that she was near, at his fingertips, and he felt no need to see her confirmed his belief that everything she had said was a lie.
Daemon was right.
Just because he perceived her as a fine-looking, perhaps even tempting woman didn't mean he needed or wanted to put his cock inside her.
He wasn't desperate, he wasn't broken because he knew that his wife, his lover, his childhood friend, though furious at him and hurt, though far away from him, had not abandoned him.
This realisation brought him relief because it made him understand that he was not an animal with no control over his instincts, but a thinking man with a will of his own, filled with warm, tender affection for the woman who was now looking at him in pain.
How was he to explain to her that he had been faithful to her not only with his body but also with his heart?
That what he really feared was that he might lose her again, this time forever?
"− do you want to argue over the words of that treacherous whore whose life you yourself asked me to spare? −" He asked at last, heartbroken that she was slipping out of his hands again, that he was losing her again despite the fact that only a moment ago they had been making love, unable to tear themselves away from each other.
Her lips tightened into a thin line out of helplessness.
"− I didn't know −"
"− so you fucking know now −" He growled, losing his temper, filled with rage and regret because she didn't believe him, because she couldn't see how deep his feeling was, even though he tried so hard.
After a while, however, something happened that he did not expect.
His niece burst out crying before his eyes, like a small child hiding her face in her hands.
This sight cooled his anger, bringing him back to earth.
"− shhh − come here −" He whispered, pulling her head towards him, cuddling her face into his chest, locking her into the tight, secure embrace of his arms, and she did not push him away.
They stayed like that for a long moment, not moving, his lips placing a tender, warm kiss on her head once in a while, taking in her scent.
He couldn't be mad at her, his sweet little wife, the mother of his child.
She had given him everything he had ever wanted.
"− no more secrets, Rheanys −" He whispered.
"− you know everything now − I am bare before you, not just with my body − you see me as I am −" He added, staring dully ahead, playing with the wet strands of her hair, contemplating how exposed he was to her, with what ease she could hurt him if she wanted to.
"− when you were not by my side, I had nightmares − I dreamt that you were dying, each time through my fault − I dreamt it because it is what I dread the most − in the years that you have been in Dragonstone a cold, black emptiness has burned in me − I have felt nothing − I have experienced nothing − my mother placed the daughters of the lords under my nose, and all I could think of when I looked at them was that they were not similar enough to you − they couldn't or didn't want to understand my true nature − they didn't see me −"
He muttered, feeling that his words were not coming from his mind, but more from his subconscious, from what lurked in the depths of his heart.
It was everything he had wanted to write to her in response to her letters over the years, but couldn't − every time he wrote those words down on parchment he felt pathetic, weak, small and tore the result of his work to shreds, throwing them into the fire where they burned just like his heavy heart, filled with darkness and pain.
"− I am tired, Rhaenys − I am exhausted − since that night, when I tamed Vhagar, I have had no peace, no rest − only with you, then, in that chamber beneath the Red Keep, when I fell asleep by your side − I −" He sighed, pressing his forehead against hers, unable to properly explain what he wanted to say, what an agony the eight years he had spent separated from her had been for him.
Some part of him believed it would get better, while the other part screamed with rage, regret and disappointment.
He tried to reconcile these two halves with each other, but he couldn't, because they simply didn't fit together.
One of them wanted to kill her, the other wanted to abduct her and take her as his wife.
When she arrived years later in the Red Keep, he was on the verge of madness.
"− I'll speak with her − alone −" She whispered after a moment, and he froze, looking at her in disbelief as she stood up slowly with a splash of water and stepped out of the bath.
He felt the pain of humiliation and regret that now that he had really opened up to her, she seemed not to be listening to him.
An unpleasant shudder of rejection shook his body as he ran his hand over his face, bitter.
"− my words mean nothing to you? −"
"− it's not about you, uncle − I have to do it for myself −"
His words accomplished nothing − his niece demanded that his guards lead her to the chamber of the Witch of Harrenhal, and he agreed, leading her figure away with sad, empty gaze.
He waited for her in a gloomy mood, not even wanting to imagine what this whore might have put into her head.
He covered his face with his hand, swallowing hard at the thought that she could have told her anything − suggested that he had taken her into his bed when he conquered Harrenhal, that he had tried to take her by force, that he had courted her, anything her imagination could bring that would make his wife push him further away.
He thought with rage that he should have killed her when he had the chance.
He shuddered as his wife stepped into his chamber after a period of time that seemed to him to last for hours. He rose from his chair, horrified to see that she had not bestowed a single glance on him, her face expressing nothing.
He watched as she sat behind his desk without a word, feeling his heart pound like mad at the sight of her hands reaching for parchment and quill.
"− what did she tell you? −" He asked coldly.
His wife did not lift her gaze to him, bent over her letter, dipping the tip of her quill in ink.
"The truth. I am writing a letter to my cousin in the Eyrie to accept Alys into his fortress as a medic." She replied calmly, without a trace of regret or anger.
He swallowed loudly, concerned, not knowing what had happened there, what was meant by that enigmatic expression on her face that told him absolutely nothing.
He could not, however, hide his relief at the thought that his wife had regained her reason and wanted to send that treacherous whore away.
"Good." He replied dispassionately.
He paced around the room, looking at her, begging in his mind for her to look at him, to tell him that this woman had confirmed his words, and that she didn't resent him for anything.
His niece, however, as soon as she had placed her letter in the hands of the servant, lay down in his bed saying that she was very tired and wished to rest before supper.
He approached her uncertainly and sat down beside her on the bedding, his hand rising to her shoulder and stroking it in a gentle, affectionate gesture.
"− shouldn't you have a meal now? − surely you are hungry and thirsty after such a long journey −" He asked, feeling that now more than ever he had to look out for her and her well-being, wanting to make sure she was provided with everything she needed.
"− there is no need, uncle − I will wait until evening −" She whispered and closed her eyes, letting him know that she had ended the subject.
He sighed heavily and stood up, sitting down behind his desk, bending over the correspondence he had exchanged with his brother, together trying to find out where Lord Strong had hidden and whether their grandfather had put his hand to his disappearance.
His wife, true to her word, only got up when the servants began to prepare the table for supper; he watched her without saying a word, thinking she looked charming as she did now, sleepy, with her hair in a slight disarray, rubbing her tired eyelids with her hands before asking one of the women to help her get herself in order.
It was a sight meant only for him − her husband.
They waited with the main courses for Baela. When his cousin stepped into his chamber she emanated with joy, a smile of satisfaction on her face that made his stomach twist. He looked away at this sight, frustrated, and sighed heavily.
"Dear cousin. My congratulations. You are going to become a father." She said softly and he only nodded, wanting her to end this feigned courtesy as soon as possible, fill her stomach with food and wine and leave them alone.
Baela took a seat on his left and his wife sat opposite her, on his right. His niece nodded at the servant to begin serving the table − the door to his chamber opened and several young men and women entered with jugs of wine and trays full of food. One of them approached his wife and leaned over her − she nodded, wishing the man would pour her some wine.
The servant filled her cup halfway, as was good custom, she, however, shook her head.
"More." She demanded, leaving him and her cousin in consternation.
"Is that wise? In your condition…" He muttered, wondering if it would be good for their child, but her stern gaze made him close his mouth, recognising that he didn't want to add to both of their frustrations that evening.
As soon as the servant had done his duty his niece raised her cup as if she wanted to make a toast. He assumed she wanted to drink to the health of their yet-to-be-born child and reached for his goblet, however, she pointed her chalice towards the man standing next to her, who looked at her questioningly.
"Drink." She commanded.
The servant smiled shyly at her, as if he did not understand what she expected of him.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Drink. To the bottom."
A long, awkward silence fell − he felt his heart stop in his throat, a cold, unpleasant shiver run along his spine.
What?
The boy laughed, shaking his head, clearly nervous and terrified.
"I am not worthy, Your Grace. I would not dare."
"I order you to drink it all to the last drop." She hissed in a voice that did not bear opposition.
The wine was poisoned.
"I can't, Your Grace, I…"
"FUCKING DRINK IT." He growled with rage as he stood up abruptly from the table, looking at him with wide-open eye thinking that if he didn't, he would pour the contents of that cup down his throat himself.
The man shook his head and he pressed his lips into a thin line, moving towards him like an enraged animal.
"Hold him." He threw to his guards, who immediately grabbed the boy by the shoulders, refusing to let him break free despite his terror and cries.
"N-no, Your Grace. I can't drink wine. It affects me badly. I might die." He whined, tears in his eyes, his face pale as if death itself stood before him.
He wanted to poison his wife.
How many other people here were acting on Lord Strong's orders?
He was sure he'd gotten rid of all the rats by recruiting new people to work in the fortress, but as he could see, new ones were appearing anyway.
He should have killed them all.
He smiled at his words in a way at which the boy wept aloud, clearly knowing what awaited him. He took the cup from his niece's hand, who looked at him with parted lips.
The dragon's blood now pulsed through his veins.
Dragons knew no forgiveness.
"I'd love to see this." He sneered, gripping his cheeks in his palm, squeezing his jaw as hard as if he wanted to break it.
The boy cried out loudly as he tilted his head back with a brutal jerk, digging his fingers into the skin of his face forcing him to open his mouth. He grinned as he pressed the cup to his lips, forcibly pouring its entire contents down his throat.
The man began to choke, trickles of wine running from the corners of his mouth down his cheeks. When he thought it was over, he reached for the jug and filled the cup again, repeating the same process. He pressed his lips together when he saw his eyes fill with blood, his skin begin to turn purple, his body shaken by convulsions.
The servant collapsed to the ground, blood and foam beginning to drip from his mouth as if he were some kind of butchered animal, and the only thing he could think of, looking at him wide-eyed, was that this was what his wife could look like, the woman who was carrying his child inside her.
The woman he loved could have died that evening in his arms.
236 notes · View notes
diazsdimples · 25 days
Note
Do you have any buddie fic recs that is a /must/ read for Buddie shippers ( sorry I don't ship Bucktommy 🥹)
Boy do I ever!!!
honey, when you call my name - @hippolotamus (Explicit)
"Eddie witnesses the Buck/Lucy kiss, has himself a little panic, and decides to do something about it when Buck does his Buck thing and won't stop pushing Eddie's buttons" It's spicy, it's sweet, it's packed full of feels and there was not a dry eye in the house!!
Whatever may come (your heart I will choose) - @hippolotamus (Mature)
"The Story of Eddie and Christopher Diaz" The number of times I yelled at Hippo while reading this,,,, it is incredible!! 30 chapters of Buckley-Diaz family feels, Eddie's heartbreaking backstory and FUCK if I could read it for the first time again, I would!
James Bond AU Series - @princessfbi (Teen & Explicit)
James Bond AU with 007 Agent Eddie Diaz and Buck as Q. Incredible. No notes. Read them back to back in one sitting, and then read them again immediately after. No prior knowledge of James Bond needed (cause I sure didn't have any) but be prepared to have the sudden urge to go watch all the films.
Kink Club AU Series - @princessfbi (Explicit)
"Canon compliant one shots where Eddie works at a Kink Club as a side hustle and meets Buck there before his first shift in 2x01." This series is insanely good. 5 perfect fics of the boys and BDSM, it is incredibly hot, full of feels and just.... yeah. Incredible. Please do read the tags before each fic though, especially if BDSM isn't your thing.
because we'll all arrive in heaven alive - @neverevan (Explicit)
"During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him." I was literally on the edge of my seat with every single chapter release. It's SO angsty and delicious and absolutely incredible, and I think also very feasible for what could happen in canon should Timothy ever decide to be as mean (affectionate) as Newbie was by putting the boys through this.
Out Of Order, Still In Line - @neverevan (Explicit)
"When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue." One of the first Buddie fics I read and it altered my brain chemistry a little. Lord have mercy. It's just ... you gotta read it. Like, Jesus 🥵
My Blood on Your Skin (My Rose on Your Snow) - @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Explicit)
"When Eddie needs cash and fast to take care of Christopher, his LAFD Academy buddy suggests a job as a bouncer at Elysium - an exclusive sex club in downtown Los Angeles. Eddie doesn't care what goes on there, so long as he's paid, but he finds he cares a lot bout the club's enigmatic owner, Evan Buckley, and it's not long before the two of them are violating every boss-employee rule in the book. But there's something different about Buck and the club, something not quite... human. If Eddie wants to keep Buck, he's going to have to delve into the world of immortals, and all the risks that implies." Honestly I think the blurb says it all. I read this at my cousin's wedding (literally just before the ceremony and during the reception fsdkjdfs) because I literally couldn't put it down. Incredible Greek Gods integration and so. fucking. hot. Sorry Caleb, I hope your matrimony is holy but this was so worth it.
stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong - @daffi-990 (Unrated at present)
"Probational Firefighters Evan “Buck” Buckley and Eddie Diaz meet on a call which ends with them at odds with each other. As the months roll by, they keep running into each other on the job, much to Eddie’s dismay and Buck’s delight. Can they put aside their first opinions and misunderstandings and allow the seeds of friendship, and possibly something more, to take root?" This AU has been eating me alive with snippets for the last few months and the chapters are FINALLY being published!! Stay tuned for weekly updates about our idiots being - well - idiots. Daffi has written them so well and I don't think I could yell louder about this one if I wanted.
Cow Eyes - @theotherbuckley (General)
"'Eddie's in hospital and Buck tries not to break down' fic except its actually just a cute silly little fic" Exactly what is says on the tin. Cute, silly, fluffy and entirely adorable. High!Eddie is fucking hilarious and Worried!Buck has my whole ass heart. Love this fic, have read it many times, will read many times more
Both Blade and Branch - @cal-daisies-and-briars (Mature)
"The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back." Orpheus and Eurydice vibes but somehow more heartbreaking because it's the Boys? Literally every chapter I was gobsmacked and the fact that I couldn't read it in one sitting due to Life™️ was frankly criminal.
what humans do - @gayhoediaz
""…and the thought that she had just escaped death by such a narrow margin made me realize the intensity of my feelings toward her.” Eddie swallows. “‘What’s the matter?’ I couldn’t tell her, so I kissed her instead,” Buck goes on, and since Eddie’s eyes are focused on the page, they drift ahead a little bit, and the next few lines have him swallowing once again, taking his hand back to brace himself against the mattress as he slowly starts to push himself up to sit. “Kissing is what humans do when words have reached a place they can’t escape from. It is a switch to another language. The kiss was an act of defiance, maybe of war. You can’t touch us, is what the kiss said. ‘I love you,’ I told her, and as I smelled her skin, I knew I had never wanted anyone or anything more than I wanted her…” Buck trails off when Eddie reaches for the book, gently luring it out of his grasp. " One of the best getting together fics I've read. So sweet, so hot, full of feels, and also just very 🤯 in many places. Just insanely well written and perfect imagery.
Also I have a small list of authors whom I love dearly:
@spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @thekristen999
@steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @fortheloveofbuddie @rainbow-nerdss @bidisasterevankinard
@aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @kitteneddiediaz
@actuallyitsellie @dangerpronebuddie @loserdiaz @elvensorceress @underwaterninja13
@smilingbuckley
Literally anything these wonderful people (and the authors of the above fics) have written is well worth a read. I would rec all of their words and make individual recs for all their fics but I fear I simply do not have the words.
I might also humbly suggest some of my fics, which you can find here! Happy reading!!!
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m00nc4kes · 6 months
Text
I love you.
hobie brown x black! reader
words: 4.5k
rating: mature
summary: You loved Hobie and you knew he loved you. You didn't know it would tear you two apart.
warnings: gender isn't mentioned for reader but they're fem leaning; suggestive and kinda explicit (not really tho); fluff but we descend into angst; author is not british
pt. 2
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"I love you."
The words that fell from your lips left a sweet aftertaste. Even so, it had startled Hobie. You could tell from how he suddenly stopped playing his guitar and his muscles stiffened. He openly stared at you with parted lips.
"Pardon?"
After several months of dating and more than a year of companionship, you'd expected a reaction like this. That's how you reasoned with yourself to not let your sweetness waver into a bitterness. So you said it again:
"I love you."
You were tired of dancing around the words, tired of the words haunting your every waking move. You and Hobie's shared sentiment of the words was probably what made your relationship sail so smoothly. But at this point, you were ready to rock the boat and you trusted him enough to not let you fall overboard. 
"Ah," was all Hobie said. He moved his guitar from his lap to the spot next to him. "'n what brought this up?"
"Nothin'," you hummed. "Jus' wanted to say it."
"Knowin' I wouldn't say it back?"
"Knowin' you wouldn't say it back."
He watched you with his champagne-filled eyes while you watched the guilt swirl around his face. You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled when he leaned into the touch. 
"S'not like I don', y'know," he started off carefully. "It's jus'..."
"Ya don't have to explain, Hobes. I already feel it from you."
When you grew up with love being a double-edged sword, the words would inevitably mean nothing to you. Yet, as reasonable as it felt, there was something about saying “fuck you” to the love you grew up with. And you didn't mind taking that first step alone. Hell, you didn't mind going through the journey alone. But, you hoped that one day, Hobie would take your outstretched hand.
In the meantime, you had no problem feeling the love he had for you.
You reveled in it when he turned his head to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. His lipstick stained it and you laughed. The sound of your delight brought a toothy grin to his face. 
“You’re gorgeous, my lovely.”
You blew a small raspberry and turned away. There was something about the way Hobie would compliment you that made your face flush with something oh so hot. 
Knowing how you would react, Hobie leaned forward to pepper kisses against your cheeks. It sent a blaze to the tips of your ears as you let out a surprised noise. He chuckled then continued to kiss along your face.
Later on, when you stood in front of your bathroom mirror and saw all of the dark lipstick stains littered across your face, down your neck, and smudged across your lips, you smiled. Your heart was filled to the brim with newly budded flowers and a warmth that you prayed would never go away.
“Oi, ducky! Where’d ya go?” you heard him shout from across your apartment. You released an amused breath and shook your head.
“I’m in the bathroom, Bee!”
You knew he loved you.
You knew it when he performed on stage, pouring his heart into his lyrics while sweat clung to his shirtless form. He glistened under the stage lights as the audience screamed with him. Of course, you’d been front row, screaming right along with them. 
Hobie’s solo sliced through the air as his deft fingers moved along the neck of his guitar. It was flawless— you knew it would be. He had practiced the damn thing over and over and over again, so much so that you would hear it in your dreams.
So when you heard the last note ring out, you screamed and cheered, already deafened by the excited crowd who followed suit. Your chest swelled with pride and you screamed out again.
Hobie’s eyes found you in the crowd without a moment’s hesitation. He beamed at you with a shine in his eyes that pierced your soul with a fondness that you couldn’t even begin to match. But you wouldn’t hesitate to try.
You threw your arms up and cheered him on.
Because you loved him.
And you knew he loved you.
You knew it during tipsy nights and after parties at the pub when you two could hardly keep your hands off each other. Liquor flowed freely along your nerves allowing for loose lips and weak legs. There was something about taking shot after shot that didn’t allow you to detach from Hobie.
Not that he minded. You knew that from how tightly he gripped your hips as you threw your ass on him. He caught you easily, grinding against you, and you knew his patience was wearing thin. Your body was hot yet your skin burned hotter under his hands and fingers that dug into you. 
The music was near deafening and the dance floor barely allowed any room between you and the other bodies that were touching and sticking to each other. You didn’t mind much. The body you wanted held you close and you needed his patience to break already.
You wanted him to fuck you in the bathroom.
Though, liquor couldn’t drown your logic. With how packed the place was, the bathroom would be incredibly risky, you’d get caught easily. Oh, but the thrill would’ve been amazing.
You pushed your ass against him again and had to restrain your laugh at what you felt. Patience was a virtue, but not a virtue that Hobie would care about much longer. 
He managed to turn you around without hesitation and the kiss you received was absolutely sinful. You could taste the alcohol lingering on his tongue and if he didn’t have such a secure grip on you, your legs would’ve buckled. 
The kiss was messy, sloppy, and the biggest sign that it was time to go.
Getting through the crowd was no easy feat, but you two found a way out. The cold air hit you like a brick, but Hobie remained impossibly close, sharing what little body heat he had himself. He threw an arm around you, going on about something you couldn’t remember, but it entertained you nonetheless.
You managed to stay upright through desire and unbridled stubbornness. As you two walked side-by-side, Hobie would occasionally kiss your cheek or lean down to nip at your neck. 
You loved when he did it, if the dopey smile that spread across your face was anything to go off of. Your heart did happy flutters in your chest and your need for him only grew.
Yeah, you loved him. You loved him. He was going to give you the night of your life and you loved him.
“Hobieee,” you drawled, leaning your head against him.
“Yeaaah?” he mimicked. You laughed loudly and he joined you. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve guessed you two were high instead of completely shitfaced. 
You looked at him with that stupid dopey grin of yours and said, “I love youuu.” 
His face softened and those whiskey-colored eyes of his were illuminated by the streetlight you found yourself under. He was a beautiful sight to behold and you loved, loved, loved him. 
The two of you stopped. He gazed at you with lust-filled eyes and kissed you. Then, he kissed you again, cradling your face in his hands. His thumbs rubbed against your cheeks as he pressed his lips against you again.
He would’ve kissed you again if it weren’t for that oh so stupid dopey grin of yours that refused to stay back, even for a moment. You couldn’t help it and he knew that, so he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You knew he loved you, even if he were too afraid to utter the words. 
You said it again and again when he had you pinned under him on his bed. Your desire for each other didn’t waver. The night stretched on and held still just for the two of you. 
Your nails dug into his back as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how wonderful you were and how good you felt. The declarations were silent “I love you”s that made your toes curl because you were— close. 
Oh fuck, you were close.
Euphoria flowed from your body and your pleasure fell from your lips. Through heavy breaths you confessed again and again that you loved him.
And he showed you that he loved you the next morning.
You woke up in an empty bed tangled up in Hobie’s sheets. While you wished the empty bed was your main concern, it really wasn’t.
Your head pounded and absolutely dared you to open your eyes to face the blinding light. The groan you let out came from your soul. Your hangovers always struck you like a truck you couldn’t seem to dodge.
“Mornin’, ducky.” 
You grunted out an acknowledgement and heard him step closer to your bedside. He placed something on the nightstand that sounded like glass. The thought of water made you peek open an eye. He stood in front of you only wearing a pair of plaid boxers. You could see the marks you left on his dark skin from last night.
“Got ya some water ‘n some pills.” He spoke softly and you could’ve praised him for it, but your body didn’t agree with you.
With one hell of an effort, you managed to sit yourself up to take the pills and inhale the water. Hobie sat on the bed and watched you fondly. You wiped your mouth and put the glass back on the stand.
Hobie reached forward and touched your forehead with the back of his hand. “How ya feelin’, duck?” He moved his hand to your neck to check the temperature there.
The action was sweet because you never ran a fever with your hangovers, but he was insistent on making sure you were just hungover and not sick.
“Like shit.”
He hummed and flipped his hand over to cradle your cheek. “Figured. Jus’ rest up, alrigh’?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you playfully dismissed him. He leaned forward and kissed your temple.
“Lemme kno’ if ya need anythin’.”
You felt the corners of your lips quirk up as you released a sigh. 
Yeah, you loved him.
And you knew he loved you.
Time continued on as it always did. Your hand stayed outstretched toward Hobie, even if you’d nearly forgotten that you had it out for him. Your “I love you”s flew from your lips and came as easy as breathing. You’d taken that double-edged sword and gripped the blade as if it were a handle, telling yourself that it didn't need to be a sword in the first place. The blood that dripped from your hands reminded you that it was okay if it hurt, it would heal. If you tried hard enough, your hands would stop bleeding and fade into scars. If you tried hard enough, the sword would become flowers in the palms of your hands. 
Flowers that you could turn around and give to Hobie.
The evening had faded into a cool night that left you cuddled up with your boyfriend. The boat gently rocked along the dock and Hobie pulled you close. His arms were wrapped around your waist while your back pressed against his chest.
It had been a few hours since the two of you decided to head to sleep. Though, you hadn’t considered that Hobie would use that time to acknowledge the flowers you held out to him.
You didn’t know why you had woken up at that point. You were floating between the realm of slumber and consciousness, nothing truly made sense in that moment. Maybe something had shifted and startled you from your dreams, you didn’t know. If it weren’t for your very awake boyfriend behind you, you would’ve disregarded the memory and fallen back asleep.
Hobie had taken to fidgeting and rubbing the fabric of your shirt in between his fingers. They were nervous stims you’d recognized from your time with him, but you didn’t know what triggered his fit.
You were going to ask as soon as your mind let go of the remnants of your dreams.
Hobie released a heavy sigh as if he was building up his resolve for something. He shifted to press his forehead to the base of the back of your neck. Then, like a breath lost to the wind, he whispered:
“I love you.”
He released a shaky breath and pulled you closer to him.
Your mind let go of slumber with a swiftness that left you dizzy. Your heart felt like it couldn’t be contained in your chest any longer. You attempted to keep your breathing even as to not startle Hobie, because obviously this wasn’t something you were meant to hear just yet.
Tears burned at your eyes, so you shut them. Who knew how long he had been speaking those words to your sleeping frame, knowing you wouldn’t hear and wouldn’t say anything in return?
Had he been working up his nerve to finally say it? When had he decided to take the flowers you offered him?
Either way, you were willing to wait for him. The tears dripped from your eyes and slid down your cheeks. You smiled.
You loved him.
And he loved you.
Even now, when you struggled to breathe around the blood that filled up one of your lungs. Wind whipped around you as he swung you two through the city as fast as he could. His voice sounded desperate and way past hysterical, but you couldn’t understand any of it.
You had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.
You knew of Hobie’s secret life as Spider-man, or what he was lovingly called: Spider-Punk. It was dangerous work, keeping crime committed by the government low. But the police force took to using whatever means necessary to keep Hobie at bay, even if it meant fusing themselves with symbiotes and becoming animals.
They knew he cared about civilians, that he had a secret life where he was surrounded by people he cared about. It just so happened that the person he loved ended up being collateral damage.
You hadn’t meant to end up in the mix when you left the store, but you did. The pig had come out of nowhere, losing a fight against Spider-man, and decided you were perfect to change the outcome of the battle.
He bum-rushed you, sending you flying against the pavement, then grabbed you by the neck. You were confused, utterly disoriented. You never saw the pig coming. There were people screaming around you while others ran for their lives.
You gripped at the black, sticky wrist that held you and found yourself unable to breathe.
There was a shout and a very familiar mask entered your sight. 
The pig lifted you up and snarled, “Don’t come any closer, Spider-Punk.” His hand dug into your neck and you cried out, scratching at his hand.
“Ya fuckin’ tosser! Drop ‘em!” You hadn’t heard Hobie so pissed in a long time, it had been even longer since you’d heard the fear in his voice.
The pig retorted with something close to a derisive snort. His free hand morphed into something sharp and he went on about laying the law and how it was his job to deal out justice. Your ears rang in your head, you couldn’t understand a single thing. 
Then there was a blinding pain. Twice.
You’d been stabbed clean through the chest and abdomen.
You couldn’t remember what happened from there.
But now, you were choking and struggling to breathe. Hobie stopped swinging and leapt from somewhere you didn’t know. You went from staring up at the sky to being blinded by white lights. 
Through muffled hearing, you could hear Hobie plead with someone, begging them to help you. You were placed on something then surrounded by people in blue scrubs. Your head lolled to the side as blood poured from your nose and you reached out toward your masked boyfriend.
You knew he wanted to follow after you when you were rolled away, but someone demanded that he stay put. Still, you reached for him.
You couldn’t remember what happened from there.
After that, things were weird. You were stuck in your mind, unable to move your body. Your dreams were oddly vivid during this time.
You dreamt of whispered words in the middle of the night. You dreamt of flowers that blossomed in the palms of your hands. You dreamt of blades that cut into your soul.
When you weren’t dreaming, you stared into the eternal darkness behind your eyelids. Voices would stream past you, always out of reach and unintelligible. 
Then you would dream again. Someone would pour you two glasses, one filled with champagne while the other was filled with whiskey. You would always wait for the second person to arrive because why else would there be two glasses? 
But the person never came.
Even so, you enjoyed their colors. They were beautiful drinks. They made you long for Hobie.
When you finally woke up, there was a tube down your throat, helping you breathe. You hated it.
You peeled your eyes open and had to fight back the stinging you were met with. A displeased noise rang from your throat, albeit softly due to the tube. It should’ve been an amusing sight, watching your eyes blink rapidly from the little light that came from the room. But it wasn’t.
Everything was dark except for the light that illuminated above your bed.
Your eyes roamed around the room until they landed on Hobie. He was sitting in a chair at your bedside with his arms folded. His head lolled to the side as he breathed softly. He was asleep, but he looked worse for wear. 
How long had it been?
You slowly shifted your hand, noticing how much effort you had to put in for the tiny motion. Your body was sore, but you just needed Hobie to look at you with those eyes of his.
Every muscle from the top of your shoulder to your fingertips argued with you, telling you not to move. But why would you ever listen to them? You managed to reach your hand out to graze Hobie’s arm. You hoped it would be enough to wake him and it was.
With a sudden hitched breath, you were met with those amber eyes that you longed for so much. Hobie’s face fell as you watched disbelief flood his features. Then, there was an overwhelming grief that spilled from his eyes.
He said your name as if he didn’t think he’d be able to say it again and rose to his feet. Even in his excitement, he gently cradled your face and wept. Kisses were softly pressed against your face as his tears fell down your cheeks. You held the side of his face and let him cry. You didn’t understand what had warranted the grief to flow from him but it wouldn’t take long for you to find out.
Apparently, you were supposed to be dead. One of your lungs had collapsed while the other had filled with blood.
You were supposed to be dead. A week had passed during your medically induced coma and Hobie had sat with that. You didn’t know what the information had done to him, you couldn’t find out even if you asked.
The months that passed were filled with antibiotics and various medications you needed to properly return from the grave. Your wounds scarred and somehow, you were able to enter normal life again.
Even as time passed, that week haunted Hobie. He woke up in the middle of the night in cold sweats, clinging onto you as he silently cried. He had a hard time comprehending that you were okay, instead allowing something else to seep into his mind. 
You hadn’t known about the paranoia until it was too late. The flowers you had shared with him scared him, he couldn’t handle looking at them anymore. If you had known that he believed the flowers were too delicate to be shared with someone like him, you would’ve done something about it.
But, it wasn’t like you didn’t try.
You didn’t notice that Hobie had been acting differently at first. You wouldn’t say he had been distant, he still kissed you and gave you affection. Hell, he gladly attended your doctor appointments with you. You only began to notice when he reacted to your “I love you”s in a completely unexpected manner.
The moment you had uttered those three words, Hobie flinched as if you’d struck him. You didn’t know your words could have such an effect on him and you didn’t think he knew either. Oh, the words left a bitter taste in your mouth and opened up a pit in your stomach.
The two of you stared at each other, neither of you comprehending what this could’ve meant. Your heart raced as Hobie’s eyes searched your face for something you didn’t know. You turned away from him.
“Sorry,” you muttered. You hugged yourself and dug your fingers into your arms.
“It’s fine.” Was all he said.
While you sat with the bitterness in your mouth, you could feel your flowers grow thorns that dug into the scars on your hands. They didn’t bleed, not yet. Even so, you still loved him.
And he— 
You knew he loved you.
You didn’t doubt it even when the arguments began.
He had stopped being physical with you in public and you wanted to know why. Every time you asked, he dodged your question or he was vague about it. If you did get a somewhat reasonable answer, he would say that he just didn’t feel like it. You would’ve believed it as much as it hurt.
Hell, you would’ve understood if he hadn’t stopped whispering that he loved you in the middle of the night. You would stay awake waiting for those three words to leave his mouth and they never did. You spent those restless nights staring at the wall and wondering if he would ever say them again.
Where had you gone wrong?
The lack of sleep and the anxiety that plagued your very being made it oh so easy to pick a fight. You two would never outright yell at each other, but the fights only made everything worse.
Even so, you loved him. You loved him even when he flat out refused to go back and forth with you. You loved him even when he walked away from you. You fucking loved him even when your flowers died and turned into barbs that threatened to cut your skin.
And you… you knew he loved you. He loved you right? He had to have loved you at some point, right? He still did, right?
It all came to a head during a particular argument you two had in your apartment. You had finally, finally gotten an answer out of Hobie. An answer to why he was treating you the way he was. And that stupid fucking answer had set you off.
“What the fuck are you talking about?!” Your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. Everything was moving too fast, yet so slow at the same time. “What do you mean?!”
Hobie stood in front of you with an oddly calm expression on his face, but you could see the crease in between his brows. “S’not gon’ work between us. Ya not safe with me, ya get me?”
“No, I don’t get it! You do all of this because of that? What sense does that make, Hobie? You can’t do this to me— to us—” You choked up. Your breathing was erratic and it felt like your world was crumbling.
“(Y/N)—”
“Don’t you fucking dare!” You were losing your mind. Things weren’t adding up. Things weren’t making sense.  “Why are you blaming yourself for what happened to me—”
“If my identity is revealed, you will get hurt. Tha’ fuckin’ pig didn’ even kno’ ya relation to me and ya nearly died. You are not safe with me.” His words were enunciated and firm, telling you that you weren’t going to win this. And that wasn’t fair.
“If I’m safe with anyone, it’s you! Don’t you get that? I wouldn’t have made it if you didn’t take me to the hospital!” Your words fell on deaf ears as he shook his head. 
“You’ll become a target eventually. ‘M not gon’ let tha’ happen. I can’t. ‘M endin’ this.”
“No. Stop it.” Blood rushed to your ears yet you ran cold. You latched onto Hobie’s vest and yelled, “Why are you doing this?! You’re not protecting me like this! So why—”
“‘Cause I love you. Tha’s why. I can’t let ya get hurt again.”
And there was that double-edged sword. Your flowers, your bouquet, it had tricked you from the very beginning and allowed the blade to return and slice open your hands. Yet, when you stared at the unshed tears in Hobie’s eyes, you knew that blood trickled down his hands too. 
It had been stupid to think you could morph that stupid sword into anything other than a blade designed to cut your hands.
“Hobie—” your voice shattered as your hands fell to your sides. “God, don’t fucking do this.”
“I—” he seemed to get stuck on the word. He shut his eyes. “I love ya too much to let this go on, lovely.”
Then, he stepped around you and headed for your door. Your voice caught in your throat as you realized that this— this was actually happening. You swore your grip tightened on that goddamned blade as you rushed after him. Before he could touch your door’s handle, you wrapped your arms around him and begged.
“Please don’t leave me. Please. Please, Hobie,” you hiccuped. “Please— I love you, Hobie. Please.” You sobbed into his jacket and dug your fingers into his shirt. You wept and pleaded, “Please don’t go.” 
That double-edged sword trembled in your grip as you willed it not to stab you in your gut.
You could feel Hobie’s breath hitch. The two of you stood there for a fleeting moment, then there were gentle fingers uncurling your fingers from his shirt. Hobie held onto one of them and turned around to face you.
Through your blurred vision, you could see tears sliding down his cheeks one by one. He brought your hand up and pressed a kiss to your palm. This time, no lipstick stained it. There was no reminder that the kiss ever took place. 
Even with the soft press of lips, your hands would continue to bleed well after the door shut behind him.
You stood there for a long time. Silent. At least until your legs gave out and you slowly fell to your knees, completely and utterly defeated by that double-edged sword. It had aimed for your gut and hit you in the heart. Your blood dripped like tears from your chest.
Once upon a time, you believed the gashes on your hands would heal, but you knew you wouldn’t come back from a stab in the heart.
You didn’t know how long you stayed there on your floor. Even so, as horrible as it sounded and as bitter of a taste it left in your mouth, you knew one thing:
You still loved him.
And he loved you.
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would you believe me if I told you everything would be okay?
divider by cafekitsune :3
taglist: @hoe-bie
404 notes · View notes
rogueshadow1124 · 23 days
Text
THE NEWS
[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]
Summary: Bruce and his wife Y/N have something to share with the boys but how would they take it?...
Word count: 1420
Warnings: none?
Bruce Wayne, eccentric billionaire of Gotham city had four sons, three of which were adopted. Y/N Wayne has been his beloved wife for six years now, she had been as good as a mother could be for the boys though they were not her own kin, she did everything for them and didnt hesitate to protect them when needed. Her life revolved around them and all four of them knew that, they adored her just as much as she adored them.
Dick moved out a couple of years ago, Y/N at first was sad since he was the one she had known the longest and he was her first 'son', she understood that he was a grown man now and he needed his own space. Jason switched between the manor and an apartment he owned, sometimes he got homesick which made him feel distressed but he always had the comfort of his 'mother' waiting for him whenever he needed.
Tim had only really just turned seventeen, he was still a child and therefore still in Bruce and Y/N's custody, he has been working hard lately due to him being in college and he's pushing through the darkness of reality to have a successful life. Then there was Damian, he was the baby of the family at the age of fourteen, though he liked to act way older than he really is, being quite mature for his age, he can also be a little broody at times but you know what some say, like father like son, right? 
At this point they had all become a big family, perfect but dysfunctional.
"How are we supposed to tell them Bruce? What if they dont take it very well?" Y/N rushed, looking up at her husband who chuckled at her anxious ness.
"Your over thinking it again darling, everything will be perfectly fine. I promise." Bruce slathered an arm around her waist and pulled into his bigger form, rubbing up and down the length of her arm with his other hand.
"Are you sure. Oh what about Damian, I'm sure he wont like this-" Her tone became more distressed as she went on, her hand coming up to rest on her heavy eyes as she let out a shaky breath.
"Dont worry about it Y/N, I'm sure the boys will be delighted. In their own ways." He stated, whispering the last part of the sentence which didnt go unheard by his wife who whined out and hit his chest several times, sending him a glare. "Hey. Everything will be fine."
The woman took a seat on the couch, groaning when she heard the loud thudding sequence of steps that were emitting for the hall. Her elbows came to rest on her knees, body slouching over while her hands held her head up, Bruce sighed lightly and sat beside her, placing and arm around her shoulder in a form of comfort.
"So what'dya wanna talk about Ma'." Jason's voice called out as he entered the room, being followed by the other three boys behind him.
"I-i just..." She wiped her hands down her jeans, looking up at the boys that were watching her nervous movements, Bruce took both of her hands in his and sent her reassuring smile when she glanced his way and nodded slightly. "Well- y-your going to be big brothers."
"W-what?" Dick and Tim squeaked, eyes widening in shock as there mouths fell a gape. They looked at each other and then to the others before facing the adults again, Y/N smiled sheepishly and Bruce arched a brow at them motioning towards the woman who shook in anxious ness.
"Y-your pregnant?" Jason heaved out, a small smile coming to his lips when he looked towards his mother figure.
"Yeah..." Y/N stood up from her place on the couch, along with Bruce who was still trying to comfort her as she was still a little shaky from the nervousness. Her eyes trailed over the boys and fell on Damian who had a neutral look on his face, no emotion present. "D-dami?"
The boy looked at her for split second with squinted eyes before spinning on his heel and rushing out of the room. A hard clutter of footsteps could behead thumping up the stairs, a few seconds later the sound of a door slamming shout could be heard.
"Mum are you-" Tim stepped forwards, looking at the woman with worry in his eyes as he saw the tears start to gather in her own. She shook her head, smiling at him with a sniffle.
She whispered a 'yes' looking back at Bruce momentarily the proceeded to walk away from him, passing the boys to exit the lounge area. Her eyes peered up to the landing, a heavy breath passing her lips when she started to make her way up the stairs.
She hopped up them quickly, strolling down the landing to the end where Damians room was. Her hand rose to the dark oak, hesitation hitting her but she pushed aside the sad feeling that she had felt and knocked on the door three times, hearing shuffling before the door swung open to reveal the small ravenette. Damian held eye contact with the woman intensely, tilting his head to the side. He sighed, rolling his eyes and walked backwards into his room, leaving the door open which was a silent way fo telling her she could enter if she wanted to.
"Dami, i-i never meant to upset you-"
"I'm not upset." He cut her off, turning around to look at her. His blue orbs widened when he saw tears returning to her eyes, a feeling of guilt seeping through the barrier he held. "Al'umu?"
"I'm sorry Damian, really I am." She muttered, wiping her eyes and attempted to send a smile his way but failed immensely when her bottom lip began to tremble, a burn setting in the back of her throat as she tried to hold back the tears.
"Theres nothing to be sorry for Al'umu, I just appear to- to feel jealous." Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion, Damian looked down in shame, falling back to sit on the edge of his bed as he grumbled a few curses under his breath.
"I dont understand." She walked over to his bed and crouched down infront of him, raising a hand to push the pieces of hair away so they disnt block his face. She brushed a finger of his cheek, lifting up his chin so he looked at her. "I need you to know, you can never be replaced Dami. I wont allow that to happen, you'll still always be important just as much as the others and this baby."
"But-"
"No Damian, sure at first the baby will need alot of attention but I wont allow any of you boys to feel left out. Besides, you'll always my baby Wayne, Dame." Y/N stood up, pulling the boy with her, bringing him into het embrace which he accepted right away. She placed a kiss at the top of his head and brought him in closer, chuckling when he snuggled closer.
"Aw- who'da thought Demon was soft." Jason's voice echoed through the room making the two look towards the archway, spotting Jason along with Bruce and the other two boys whi smiled at the sight before them.
"Shut it Todd. Fuck you, I'm not soft." Damian went to pull away from Y/N but was pulled back into the hug, much to his dismay as he didnt want anyone to see him in this 'state'.
"You want a hug too Jay?" She tilted her head with a smirk, letting Damian free from her grasp. Her eyes squinted at the second oldest who frowned and looked at her but ended up nodding walking towards her and encasing her in his arms.
"Group hug!" Dick called out, grabbing Tim's arm and rushed to join the hug. Y/N chuckled reaching an arm out to the side, pulling the two boys in. Damian was now stuck at her side since Dick and Tim were blocking his exit.
"C'mon Bruce." The man scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully before making his way towards the crowding hug. He walked around to the back so his chest was against Y/N's back and he wrapped his arms around the boys, smiling at the moment they are having together at this time.
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dinozarr · 7 months
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⠀ “please~.. i’ve been such a good boy, baby.”
i need him in my bones. but, CRYBABY MICHAEL that needs to feel every inch of you. he loves when you make him beg for it; until the point of tears streaming down his face. the sense of pure ecstasy that trickles through his bones at the endurance of you sliding down him is like no other. he can’t tell if he wants to cum, cry, or beg for you to keep going. which you do regardless. your sleek walls wrap around him oh so diligently. it’s nasty. it’s demeaning. you’d be shunned for how vulgar your intimacy was. “f-fuck baby please. please let me cum, i’ve been so good for you. s-sssuch a a good boy.” his pleas were humorous at best. if that’s how he was going to act you sure as hell wanted to make sure you dragged it out for as long as you could. his nails delved into the raw flesh of your exposed hips, that familiar white pigmentation dispersing all over his knuckles from the pure aggression he was suppressing. his agonizing tip poked your womb with each sultry movement you bounced on him. you switched speeds every so often, watching in pure delight at his expressions mixing together from the overstimulation. his girth was surely something you had to get used to, from his tip to his base; the size only expanded. when you weren’t trapping his mouth with your own and swelling his lips even more, you were praising him for being the good boy that he was. he was so good for you. so good to you. some would think you were evil for causing him to cry like such, but rest assure the man enjoyed it more than he did actually hitting his climax. he loved feeling inside of you. being so close with you yet so far. he craved nothing more than having his tip kissing your cervix every passing second.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “just like that. please baby please- o-oh fuck~.”
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NOTEZ : sorry for not posting in a while, been working on my kpop blog. also here u go my love, @vilsoo , my second favorite fnaf fan/michael afton simp 🌚
© TAKST4Z 2023 — all rights reserved. mature discretion. please do not plagiarize or steal any of my works or graphics.
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phoenixblaze1412 · 21 days
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HIII I LOVE your works and THE CHILD READER IS SO FUXKING DELICIOUS that I've been living in your blog for like.. three days.
But anyways I wanted to request grown up child reader (like 15-17 yrs old) headcanons from your child readerXDottore ffs.
I love you and your works❤️
Also, can I be your 🦅 anon?
Sure you can, anon <3
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Dottore was always proud to call you his child, his prodigy. He may not be able to show his care for you due to him always having to work but when he's free for the days, he tends to you as much as he can.
Time flew by so fast, you grew up from a tiny toddler to a teen.
In Iota and Theta's words, you used to be a little shit. Now you became a bigger shit.
You didn't need to worry much about what happens when one goes through puberty and maturity. Your father has it all covered, he actually made them beforehand before you reached thirteen.
And with your knowledge expanding from all the things you were taught at such a young age, you followed in your father's footsteps and Dottore was euphoric with it.
Kappa was a bit upset that you grew up, he would miss the times when you and him would always spend time together to play.
He was definitely pouting whenever you talk about your heights, now that you grew up to be a teenager while he's stuck as a child perspective of your father, the height difference was very noticable, he reaches about your stomach now and he will forever be that short.
Sadly that doesn't go the same for the other segments. Eta, Theta and Delta would still make fun of your shortness.
Beta would still carry you around despite already being a teenager. He still sees you as his little angel no matter how tall or old you get.
Iota still keeps those baby pictures he took of you. Doesn't matter if you looked bad or good in it, he still sees you as his little, troublemaker mutt. He still takes photos of you and would make scrapbooks of it during his free time whenever he's bored at tinkering on ruin machines.
The troublemaker (s)quad: Delta, Gamma, Theta and Beta would always bring you along with them whenever they wanted to cause trouble, watch something blow up or make some failed experiments kill each other. They would still cover your eyes if the scene becomes too much for you to handle.
Dottore was very enthusiastic when he took you in as his apprentice, of course you got lots of glares and side eyes from those who work under him who always wanted to be the doctor's apprentice, those looks did not go unnoticed by your father though. Oh how delightful you already have new fresh bodies to experiment on!
Who else would Dottore choose as his own apprentice if not you? It was already decided the moment your ruby red eyes stared back at him the moment you were born that he was to choose you.
Prime and Omega were always there to assist you whenever you have a little trouble in doing some of the work your father has tasked you to do. They may be segments and are 400+ years old in terms of memory but you're still their little child, it wouldn't hurt to spoil and give you a helping hand without the doctor knowing.
Dottore was definitely not happy when he saw the Knave's children interacting with you. Who were those brats again? Ah yes, Lyney, Lynette and Freminet. Time to tell the segments about those orphans.
You would always be curious on why a segment would always be with you wherever you go.
One time when Lyney kissed the back of your hand, he was immediately backed up to the wall with Delta's claymore pressed against his neck while Beta carried you away.
Having tea and cake with Lynette would have went well if Theta didn't splash her with water, intentionally letting the bucket fall on her head to grab your hand and run off.
Gamma even burned the flowers he took from Freminet to give to you since the boy was too shy to do so. The segment snipped the petals off to use them as ingredients for future experiments before burning the stems over by the fireplace with a grin.
Last one was when Childe came over to the lab to visit you since he brought you some snacks and souvenirs he got from Liyue only to get multiple glares from the segments and your father, your father was teaching you how to dissect a frog while the segments were watching as encouragement since it was your first time dissecting an organism.
It was during the harbinger meeting that Arlecchino brought up the doctor's protectiveness.
"Is the doctor afraid that his own child is being courted by others? Come on, surely you know that children would be leaving their nest to go fly off on their own to live their life? Surely my children are capable and worthy enough to court a child like them, no?"
"Absolutely fucking not. My child will not be tainted by your orphan brats."
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lindszeppelin · 2 years
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Show Me Your Wild Side
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pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader
summary: Austin has been your adoring boyfriend for quite some time now. On a rainy day spent inside, you two spend some much needed quality time together. pretty simple premise but will pack a punch...trust me.
rating: Mature, 18+. Minors, get yo self outta here! Avert your eyes.
warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, dom and sub dynamic, edging/orgasm denial, thigh riding, over-sensitivity. maybe more i forgot to mention? 
word count: 10.2k. listen, i didn’t come to play around.
a/n: Hey loves!! This is my first go at writing fanfiction in years, so do forgive any grammatical errors and things like that. I hope you enjoy! 
tags: @elvisstyles​
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From the moment you first set your eyes on Austin Butler, you knew he was gonna be trouble -- but the best kind. He courted you properly like the gentleman he is, taking his time with you. Getting to know all the little details about you and making sure to remember important things you told him like names, dates, places you loved to visit, your favorite things. That sickeningly sweet honeymoon phase that usually fizzles out after a few months with most couples never went away with you two. In fact, your love story is still drenched in desire. The flame between you both never dying out, only getting stronger as time goes on. You were a perfect match.
Not long after he successfully wooed you into his life, he offered for you to live with him full time. He was bi-coastal, spending the majority of his time in California, but he had a little loft in Manhattan that complimented your already existing lifestyle. This was where the two of you would start to make a home that was yours. He didn’t complain when you took over half of the available bathroom sink space with your makeup and hair tools -- in fact, he bought you your own vanity table that you knew was far too expensive, but he wanted to show how much he appreciated you. 
Your perfectly imperfect lives intermingled like something out of a fairytale. Suddenly you were not just two people coexisting in the same space. You were one in the same. It was the little things about one another that made the love deepen with each day. A prime example -- When he would get sucked into a new script he was reading, he had a pen he would use to take notes that would find permanent residence in his mouth, the cap of it being chewed to smithereens by the time he was finished annotating. The little gnawing noises and hums he made was one of his quirks that might drive anyone else batshit insane. But you loved him for it.
Slowly but surely, you managed to fine a routine within your busy lives. The weekends specifically were centered around one on one time with each other. No one else, no distractions, just you and Austin. The day would typically start with a slow, passionate love making session in bed, followed by breakfast and maybe some light reading. You two also loved to play board games and had stacks upon stacks high up to the ceiling of old fashioned games and puzzles -- he was a master Monopoly player, and you a wiz at Scrabble. As the day turns into evening, you would make a homecooked meal together, which he loved to do with you. Cooking was one of his love languages. He couldn’t get enough of your reactions to his creations -- how you sighed in delight at a new recipe he was trying out. It made his heart soar. And to cap off the night, you two either found yourselves dancing to records or you put on a movie. Some of the times you actually watched the film, but it usually ended with clothes on the floor and you two fucking into the early morning hours. 
Today was one of these nights. You and Austin lay comfortably in your king sized bed, the blinds were open just enough so that the orange hues from the New York sunset were cascading over you. The pitter patter of rain landing delicately along the old rusty windows of your loft added to the relaxing ambiance. On the tv in front of you was A Street Car Named Desire, one of yours and Austin’s favorite films. You both had an affinity for classic films. 
This was your version of heaven on Earth. Nothing else mattered but you and him exactly like this -- his arm draped along your waist pulling you into his side, his fingers lightly dancing across your silk nightie. Your head rested on his chest, his heart beating a steady rhythm became one of your most favorite sounds. This was perfection, and you wanted to trap time in a bottle so it could never be forgotten.
At some point during the night, you had dozed off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace. He didn’t really notice right away, as he was paying attention to the film. But he turned his attention away from the movie for a split second and looked down at the sight before him -- you asleep in his arms. He smiled warmly, wondering if he should continue to let you rest or rouse you. He decided on the latter.
“Y/N?” He shook you gently. The hand that was glued to your waist found its way into your hair, stroking your head with such care as he turned and kissed you awake on your forehead.
“Hmm?” You stirred beneath him and slowly lifted your head up to meet his gaze. You could look deep into Austin’s crystalline blue eyes all day. They sparkled with nothing but pure love and adoration for you, his girl. 
“Sorry doll, I was just checking on you, You were silent for a long while.”
“Oh shit, did I miss the part where Stanley tries to win Stella back?”
He chuckled. His hand left your head and trailed it’s way slowly down your back, his fingers grazing your spine in a way that made you shiver at his touch. “ ‘fraid so baby. The movie’s almost over.”
“Damn, that’s my favorite part too.” You whined.
“I mean, between us both I think we’ve watched this film at least 1000 times. You didn’t really miss anything.” He reasoned.
“I know! But there’s something about that scene that I love. Sure, Stanley is an asshole. But it’s kinda romantic when he calls out for her, pleading with her to take him back. And she goes to him like she knew she would. Then he whisks her away in his arms.” You signed, somehow even getting more comfortable around Austin’s tall frame as you drape your leg over one of his. You always were a big hopeless romantic. And he was too, which made you somehow swoon over him even more than you ever thought was possible. Any book, song, or film to do with love was exactly what you were both into. And these classic films just knew how to paint the perfect picture of a love story that unfurls with such realism. It reminded you of what you cultivated with Austin -- an unbreakable, cherished bond. 
You snuggled deeper into him now, and placed a tiny kiss upon his chest before your ear found it’s way back home to his heartbeat. The corners of his lips upturned in a content smile. He appreciates your sentimentality for the classics like he does, and your idealistic way of looking at the world.
“Yeah, you’re right baby I like that moment too. When I first started getting into acting as a kid I studied that scene far too many times. Probably annoyed the hell outta my parents. Brando is just phenomenal.” Austin could ramble on for days about his extreme love of film, but he stops himself short, leaving it at that. You thought it was so cute when he would open up to you about his passion for the arts. It was such a turn on seeing your man’s face light up about the subject. You wouldn’t mind listening him drone on about it until his voice was hoarse. And some days you did just that.
“mmm.” You hummed peacefully. He let himself stare at you for a little while and tried to commit this to memory. It was unfortunate that his hectic work schedule left you two with not a lot of time during the week. On those particular moments of separation, he would dive deep into the recesses of his mind for all the delicious remembrances of you and get off on them. 
He made sure to remember your soft skin, your long hair cascading down your back that tickled his arm draped around your waist, the feminine floral scent of your perfume lingering all around him, sticking to his clothes. Your silk nightie riding up your thigh, showing him a bit of tantalizing skin. And of course, one of his favorite mental notes, the way your ass fit perfectly in the palms of his big masculine hands. It was intoxicating. 
Austin eventually came back down to reality after being lost in his own fantasies and brought his other hand up to his face, checking the time on the vintage watch that adorned his wrist. It was getting really late and the film was basically over at this point. He took the remote beside him and switched off the tv. The room was now filled with a comfortable silence, the sound of the rain, and your combined breathing. Total bliss.
“What do you think, you wanna get ready for bed?” He asked you, in a low rasp that reverberated within you, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up to attention.
“No not yet...not yet. i don’t wanna move ” You squeezed yourself even more impossibly tighter to his body, melting into him. You definitely were not planning on letting him go anytime soon. He was okay with that.
“Alright, i’ll allow you to keep using me as your personal pillow for a little while longer.” He joked. He definitely was not complaining either. Austin could stay in this position for the rest of his life. And he was the comfiest pillow you’ve ever had the pleasure of resting on. 
“Good, cause i like it here.”
“Me too.” He cooed.
Contentment. Pure, unadulterated contentment. You and Austin laid there in bed, happily enjoying each others company. As you allow yourself to just simply be with him in this moment, you fluttered your eyes closed and honed in on every sensation he was making you feel. Just as it was so intoxicating for him to be around you, he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were completely at his mercy. Even when he wasn’t trying to be sexy, he just naturally was. All the time. Never have you met a man that brought you to your knees as quickly as Austin. Just the faintest touch or a certain look from him could make you crack.
You focused intently on the way his finger tips were drawing lazy circles on your back. His calluses from many years of guitar playing were rough, but it elicited such an electrifying buzz, sending a chill of pleasure running throughout your body. This sensual act alone was enough to start the coil turning in your stomach. Your leg that was hung over his rose up just a little higher, daring to make contact with the part of him you craved. His jean clad thigh resting flush against your soft core stirred the fire within you. The lace panties you were wearing were sure to be drenched any moment, and yet again you’d have to toss them and buy yourself another pair. But what the hell, if that’s one of the prices you pay for being with this gorgeous man, then that was alright with you. 
You bit your lip to stifle the tiniest moan that wanted to escape your lips. You wanted to devour him whole and send him reeling down the path of aching desire for you -- moaning your name, spilling inside of you hot and fast while he peppered your body with wet kisses, milking him for every last drop of his come. This was now your sole mission for tonight. You needed him. 
Slowly peeling your upper body away from him, your large doe eye bore into his with intense lust. Your hand that was lovingly resting on his stomach was now making it’s way up to land in the crook of his neck. Your thumb tenderly stroked his jaw, and he flexed beneath your delicate hand. Austin didn’t even need you to utter a single word for him to understand what you wanted. 
He was no match for the sexual prowess you beguiled him with. Your cheeks were flush, hot and red for him. That was one of your telltale signs that you were yearning for him, he knew your body all too well. You may be the sweetest little thing, acting all innocent around other people. But when it’s just you and him in a room together, the sexual hunger is so intense it drives you both wild with passion. He loved that special side of you that no other man gets to see. Only he can make you come in a matter of seconds, and that knowledge is powerful. 
As he stared back at his beautiful girl gazing at him with an innate yearning for his touch, he too felt the embers inside of him start to unfurl. The energy in the room shifted, the primal desire to be inside of you was the only thing that mattered. Austin’s shaky hand reached out to cup your face tenderly. Adrenaline coursing through his veins. He needed you too, and now. 
“Aus...”
As soon as his name left your lips, he was on you in a flash. Wasting no time in crashing his plush mouth onto yours. Your lips danced together in tandem, perfectly in sync with one another -- pushing and pulling exactly when warranted. It was so sensual and laced with want. He had one hand tangled in your soft hair, and the other one clutching onto your waist desperate for your curves against him. You shimmied a little higher up onto his leg, still not letting yourself get too close to his cock. You wanted to savor every bit of this feeling right now.
Each moment your lips met you relished in the way he worked his mouth against you. He was delicate, as if not wanting to break you, but yet pining inexplicably for you in every feasible way. His tongue probed your bottom lip, testing you to see if you would let him in. And you do, eagerly. Soon enough your sweet, wanton kisses turned hot and sloppy. The rich taste of bourbon from dinner was still lingering on his breath, and the seductive taste of his mouth on yours had you moaning into him. He happily swallowed every noise you made, and returned them right back to you. God you loved it when he let himself unravel into nothing but whimpers. Knowing that you were the one to elicit such delicious sounds from him made you instantly soaked. 
With your leg still tangled over his, you roll your hips into a position where your core was directly in contact against his upper thigh. You reluctantly pulled away from his flushed, pouting mouth to prop your hands on his chest for leverage, angling yourself in such a way that your clit was rubbing right against him. As you rolled your hips you let a slew of breathy moans fall from your lips, looking him square in the eye as you grind your wetness against his leg. His chest heaves, so turned on by you mewling and writhing on top of him. To think that this is how you react with just his leg has him dying to have his way with your pussy in the most sinful ways. 
“Fuck. So needy for me, baby.” He places his hands on your hips and grounds you even harder against his leg, picking up the pace just a tad. Your panties can no longer contain how turned on you are, and your juices starts to seep out into a giant wet spot on his jeans. He doesn’t care one bit. Seeing you fall apart in his hands makes him rock hard.
“Austin...I...” You have your head thrown back in euphoria. You could easily come like this in a matter of mere seconds. However, you definitely need more of him. You want every single inch of him all at once to fill you completely. But your brain is too fuzzy to relay any of this to him. Only his name repeated over and over again like a prayer is what you choose to latch on to. 
“Come on baby, use your words.” He eggs you on, biting his bottom lip. He digs his fingers a little more into your hips, sure that it would leave bruises on your delicate skin. You try your best to muster up something to say but you’re still on cloud 9.
“I need...I need you.”
Amused by how completely blissed out you are riding his thigh, he lets out a devilish chuckle. “That’s a start,” He lets go of your hips with one of his hands, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting your head down to meet his striking blue eyes that have turned dark with carnal lust.  “How do you need me? Let it out.” He growled.
As much as you desperately need Austin to fuck you senseless into the bed and have you screaming, you still wanted to keep the sensuality going. Foreplay was his specialty, and he was a generous giver. He knew exactly how to use his fingers and mouth to have you crumbling beneath him. As you keep grinding down on him, your clit throbs at the image of his tongue lapping up your juices. This is what you needed. 
“I need you...to eat me out.” You finally answered back eagerly. You were not beneath begging for Austin to take you. The submissive side of you loved to be unashamed at how desperate for Austin you were. And to him, there was nothing hotter in this world than seeing you beg for him. 
His lips twitched into a smirk. He fucking loved how much you wanted him in every possible way. And if one thing was certain right now, it was that he was going to eat you out like he was a starved man in search of sustenance. 
He swallowed thickly. “Sit on my face babygirl.”
Your heart thumped hard in your chest at hearing those naughty words come out of his mouth. Wasting no time at all, you pry yourself away from his thigh, briefly looking down at your handywork where you noticed that spot on his jeans. What was also plain as day was the fact that he was already painfully hard. Your eyes widen as you sucked your bottom lip into your teeth, admiring the outline of his cock. 
You feel the blood rush to your chest and face, completely hot with need for his mouth on you. Remembering the task at hand, you swiftly stood up at the foot of the bed and took off your drenched panties, throwing them somewhere behind you, having no care in the world if you lose them later. Along with it, you shimmy your nightie off your shoulders as it pools to a heap at your feet. Austin sits up on his elbows, his eyes roams your body in an obscene way, admiring your beautiful naked form in front of him. His cock twitches in his pants.
Seeing him so hungry for you gave you a momentary flash of courage during a moment where you would otherwise be shy as a wallflower. “Like what you see?” You said dreamily, making sure to skim you hands down your shoulders and cup your perky breasts. His stifled moan was the answer to your question.
Austin made quick work of the t-shirt he was wearing, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor without a care. Your mouth went slack as you admired his gorgeously toned body. This man was to be the death of you.
Noticing your obvious staring, he smirked and raised a cocky eyebrow, giving you a taste of your own medicine. “Like what you see, darlin’?”. God, did you ever. He may have won that little innocent moment of power play, but the ball was now in your court to make a bolder move.
Like the sex kitten you know you are, you crawl your way onto the bed, giving him a show as you sway your hips like an enchantress. His hands roamed the peaks and valleys of your divine figure, shivering beneath his fingers. As you climb up the bed your let your breasts get tantalizingly close to his face, just to keep teasing him further. He absolutely was not about to let the opportunity go by though. So before you could get out of his reach he languidly let his tongue capture one of your nipples, rolling it into his mouth. He spent ample time lavishing your breast before moving to the other one.
“Baby...” you moaned. The sensation was delicious, sending a new wave of wetness pooling between your legs. He grazed his teeth against your nipple ever so gently before letting it pop out of his mouth. The breath hitched in your throat. He knew your breasts were extremely sensitive to his touch, but he loved teasing you in every conceivable way, making you squirm. “Austin!” You shuddered.
“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t resist.” His hands found their way to the backs of your thighs, giving them a firm squeeze. “Now get moving. I wanna taste you.” And with a gentle tap on your ass for encouragement, you were off. You didn’t need to be told twice.
You made quick work of moving your self up to the top of the bed. Once there, you swing your legs over and around Austin’s shoulders, getting yourself settled into this new position. 
His hands take hold of your hips, resuming their previous position and digging into your flesh once more. He slides down a little so his face is in direct alignment with your dripping core. You shake in suspense, anticipating his needy tongue on your folds at any moment.
He licks his lips, fully taking in the glorious sight above him. “That’s it, let me see that perfect pussy.” His voice oozing with sex. He’s so eager to have you smother him completely and drown in your juices. His hot breath underneath your wetness makes you quiver. As he places chaste kisses on your inner thighs, you grasp onto the wall Infront of you in preparation for the onslaught you’re about to receive.
Austin would and probably could swallow you whole right now. But he was holding back every urge in his body to resist making you come too fast. So he decided that he would take his time with you. 
You practically saw stars when you felt his tongue lick one long flat swipe across you and flick up to your clit. He was savoring your taste. Teasing you. Enraptured in how your luscious folds felt against his mouth. Your perfect swollen bud between his lips. He adored you completely. Your hearts were beating at rapid fire in your chests. The passion was palpable and hung thick in the air.
With no time to waste, Austin began a steady pace of broad, sensual strokes against your pussy, making sure to flick up the tip of his tongue on your clit before diving back down into your folds. Over and over and over again his firm tongue glided effortlessly through your slick. He greedily slurped up every single drop you had to give him. You were already like putty in his hands. 
“Ooh, Aus...your tongue feels so good.” You arched your back and started slowly riding his face. He moaned against you, encouraging you to use him however you want to get yourself off, the vibration sending shockwaves of extra pleasure straight to your aching clit. The stubble on his face was scratching against your thighs as he ate you out, making you hiss at the burning sensation. But it was overwhelmingly delicious. 
He couldn’t control his carnal urges anymore. In no time he worked his mouth faster against your sopping cunt, diving his tongue deep into your folds, licking and sucking every inch of you as you rode him. A few times he let a wandering hand travel to his erection as he palmed himself through his pants to relieve the pressure building inside of him. And occasionally, he dipped the entire length of his tongue right inside of you, exploring every single nook and cranny to drive you insane. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, sucking him as far as he could go. “Fuuuck yes baby...” You groaned. 
It was absolutely primal, you were being sent to the precipice with every swipe of his tongue. The obscene sloshing noises of your soaked pussy and his wet tongue was absolutely pornographic. It was music to both of your ears. You were in complete awe of the way he utterly worshiped your body. Austin always made sure to do right by you and treat you like a goddess. And it showed in the way his mouth engulfed your pussy in a fervor.
You couldn’t help yourself, you had to look down and see what this man was doing to make you feel so good. You moaned loudly as your eyes were locked with his in a soul snatching stare that set you ablaze. This turned you on like no other. As you ground yourself harder against his velvet lips you swear that you saw him wink at you.
He clung onto your hips, almost afraid that you would float away on this intense high. You gushed around his mouth and he hummed against you. After giving some generous attention to your folds, he had his sights set on your clit. You were a goner. He set a dizzying pace as he maneuvered against your sensitive bundle of nerves, sending you into a frenzy of needy moans. 
Austin new exactly how to pleasure you, and he took pride in doing so. He mixed his go-to techniques all at once to bring you to your peak. He first brought your clit into his mouth and shook his head back and forth vigorously, coating his face with your slick in the process. Then he went to flicking with just the tip of his tongue at warp speed. The last ingredient to this orgasmic recipe was deliberately switching things up by slowly lapping at your bud. This man has the most talented mouth on the planet. You felt like your heart would explode out of your chest if he kept this up. 
The coil in your stomach was impossibly tight, letting you know that your crashing orgasm was on it’s way. He just kept going to town on you ferociously, unrelenting. Ravishing you like you were his last meal. He brought your clit into his mouth and masterfully sucked away, his tongue lapping and collecting all of your juices in his mouth, groaning against your pussy...it was all swirling into a cacophony of otherworldly, indescribable sensations. 
“Fuuuuck, Austin...” You moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy.
One of your hands trailed it’s way down to his mop of dirty blonde locks between your legs. His curls were plastered to his face with sweat from exertion, and you gripped him for dear life as he devoured your sweet cunt. He loved this, because he gave your ass a smack in approval. You were so love drunk on him, and he on you. You didn’t know exactly how much time you had before you collapse on top of him, but you knew it wasn’t very much longer. Your walls began to flutter around his tongue.
“I’m gonna fucking come all over your face.” You squealed, feeling the wave of your climax attempting to pour out of you and suffocate him.
The high pitched moans that were cascading out of your mouth like a waterfall was his signal that you were close. He could play nice and let your juices drip down his chin as you rode out your orgasm. However, even though that idea sounded amazing, he had other plans for you this evening. And Austin certainly was not about to let you come so quickly. A part of him felt bad for doing this to you right now, but only a little. 
As you were in the throws of passion, chasing your high and your impending climax, Austin swiftly pulled his lips away from you. Your clit coming out of his mouth with a wet plop. You felt the wind knock out of you, like you were hit by a freight train at 100 miles an hour. Being on the edge of reality and crashlanding back down to your Manhattan loft was jarring to say the least. Trying to gain hold of your senses, you looked down at him. The look on your face flashed with multiple feelings - but mostly annoyance, horniness, and utter confusion. You literally were seconds away from coming.
Austin peppered kisses along your inner thighs and looked up at you through his long lashes. His breath was heavy and labored, eyes half-lidded and pupils completely blown out with with a raging fire behind them. Swallowing any remnants of your juices left in his mouth, he threw you a playful smile from below. 
“Sorry doll, but you’re not coming just yet.”
Seriously?! This man had you on the very brink of a powerful orgasm, and he took it away from you just as quickly as it came. Your mind was a jumbled up mess. How can he just..do that without warning?! You definitely heard what he said, but it went in one ear and out the other. All you were really focusing on is your throbbing clit begging for release, and the fact that you couldn’t have it.
“Austin, please! That’s not fair!” You whined.
“Well, life isn’t always fair baby. We’re playing by my rules tonight. Now hop off me.”
Exasperated, you refused to move. In fact, you really couldn’t move even if you tried. Your legs were like jelly beneath you. Your thighs clamped around his head for so long that the thought of moving now sent a harsh wave of pins and needles prickling down your lower extremities. A part of you wished that this was some kind of sick joke and that he would finish what he started. But alas, that wasn’t about to happen. He was for real.
Austin noticed your reluctance to do much of anything, and doubled down on his command. Something wicked inside of him was brewing, and you were now on the receiving end of his games. 
“Hey,” He says firmly, smacking your ass “Quit being a brat and get down here.”
As much as you strongly wanted to protest, you let out a loud sigh and followed his orders. Gathering up whatever strength you had left, your shaky legs gave way under you as you swung them off of Austin’s face. A string of his saliva trailed along with you as you rolled onto your back. As you collapsed onto the bed, you tried to gain some kind of composure. It seemed a little cruel that he would pull the rug from underneath you.
But as quickly as your head hit the pillow he was on you in a heartbeat.
Austin straddled either side of you as he pressed his body against yours. You instinctively went to wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him close. But he was faster than you, forcing your legs apart at your sides, capturing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs with the palms of his hands. 
You were no match for how strong he was, no matter how you tried to buck yourself free from the confines of his vice grip, it seems like a fruitless effort. He hovered over you, his breath hot on your neck.
“Uh uh, not so fast. I have...other plans for you.” He growled. You knew that he was going to have his way with you tonight according to how he saw fit. As badly as you wanted him and your own release, you came to the realization that fighting back would be useless. 
Relinquishing any power you had left in that moment, your thighs gave into the weight of his hands. He opened you up as far as you could go, exposing the heat of your core to the cold air. Your drenched pussy was on full display for him in an intensely erotic fashion.
“That’s my good girl. Now, you may not like my rules. But be forewarned. Disobey them and I won’t give you what you want. Follow my rules, and you’ll be rewarded. Understood?”  Your eyes widened at this display of dominance. It wasn’t all too often that you and Austin played this dom/sub dynamic. But you couldn’t deny how hard and fast he could make you come by simply taking what's his. As frustrating as it was that he was keeping you on the edge, it was also exhilarating. 
Finally understanding his game and playing along, you nodded in accordance to the guidelines he set. This pleased him, but he knew that you probably would break his rules and he’d have to find a way to punish you. But for now, he knew he had you under his spell. 
“Good.” He slowly released his grip on your inner thighs and got up off the bed. Standing in front of you, he places his hands on the fly of his jeans. He knew you wanted to see his massive cock spring free, but he purposefully pulled down the zipper at a snails pace. Your chest rose and fell sharply, the anticipation building. 
After what felt like an eternity, Austin allowed himself to push his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. He toed both garments off to the side and stood there intently watching your reaction. 
A soft moan fell from your lips as you took in the sight of his thick cock standing to attention. He was definitely the biggest you’ve ever had, compared to your previous lovers. And you were craving for him to stretch you and fill you completely. The fact that you knew you couldn’t have him right here and now was agonizing. And he knew this, which he used to his advantage. 
Looking down upon you with intense lust in his eyes like a predator watching their prey, he took his aching cock in his hand, smearing the bead of precum on his tip and spreading it over himself. He lazily pumped himself a few times, his eyes trailing up and down your body and eventually settling on your needy cunt. The sight of his saliva and your wetness smeared across your pussy and thighs, flushed red like the most beautiful rose, created a newfound thirst for you that needed to be quenched.
He licked his lips and pumped himself faster, flexing his toned biceps as he stroked himself. He was putting on a show for you, exactly like how you were moments ago for him. This was torture. “Fuck...” A staggered moan falling from his lips.
Watching him just stand there like the sexy man he was, touching himself and ogling at your pussy, was too much for your feeble willpower to handle. To relieve the pressure, you let one of your hands slide down your stomach, about to touch your clit. But he was quick to stop you.
“Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself, you hear me? That’s an order.” He snapped. That alone got you so wet. Him being aggressive like this turns you on so much. Although you so badly wanted to touch your needy clit, you figure that the sooner you followed his rules the sooner you could come. So you once again, you obeyed. Your hands left your stomach and idly fell on the bed. You were a good girl and you were gonna show him.
Satisfied with you actually listening to his order, he took his hand away from his throbbing cock and crawled back onto the bed. Instead of moving directly on top of you, he settled down next to you, propping himself up on his forearm. Your legs were still spread wide for him, and he ensured you stayed in this position by moving his leg over one of yours to hold you there with his weight.
He took his free hand and palmed your face, gripping just hard enough to accentuate his authority.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”
You nodded.
“Are you sure?”
You nodded a little harder. He chuckled under his breath.
“You want me to touch you, don’t ya?”. That was obviously rhetorical.
You nodded even harder. 
 “I know darlin’, I know what you want...I always know what you want...”
And sure enough, he knows exactly what you want. He collides his lips with yours. It’s all teeth and tongue. Its raw, passionate, and needy. Desperate. You both moan into the kisses, starving for each other. The hand on your cheek travels down your throat, giving you a tentative squeeze, reminding you who was in control. Austin turns his attention to your breasts. He cupped them, the fullness of your tits sitting perfectly in his large hand. He let his thumb skim over your nipples, ghosting them with light circles making them instantly hard under his touch. Sighing in delight, you tangled your hand in his golden hair, bringing him closer to your crashing mouths.
You scream internally when he finally moves his hand, albeit agonizingly slow,  down your stomach. It was close but not close enough to where you want him. He takes his time in getting there inch by scorching inch to your core. Austin enjoys toying with you a little too much for your own liking, but he knew it riled you up in the best way.
His long middle finger skipped past your clit and went down to collect the wetness from your weeping hole before sliding it up your slit. This elicited a deep moan from the pit of your stomach. He spread your juices all over your folds, tenderly, knowing this was driving you wild. 
“Austin...” You whined into his kisses. 
Finally, he caved in and allowed himself to give you a taste of what you wanted. With your slick dragging along his fingers, he places circles on your clit. In a double whammy move, he also took your bottom lip in his mouth and bit down at the same time. Both of these sensations caused a strangled moan to erupt from within you.
Releasing your lip from his teeth, his tongue licked the shell of your ear. His breath sending shivers down your spine. “So fucking wet for me.” He mused. 
He trailed hot kisses down your neck, finding the area he knows is your weak spot and ravishing it with his mouth. Your legs splayed even further out from your sides, giving him more access to your pussy in a display of submission. He was playing you like a finely tuned instrument, the music being the beautiful sounds falling from your lips and your dripping core.
After a few teasing circles on your clit, he went back down to play with your pussy lips with more fingers. He probed your entrance with his middle finger, both of you hissing at this newfound sensation. 
“Goddamn baby, still so tight for me after all this time.”
He pushed his finger as far as it could go, brushing against your g-spot. Another strangled moan cascaded out of your mouth and into his ear, savoring every second. “Oh yes...”
He slowly began to leisurely pump his finger in and out of you, taking your pussy for a test ride before adding a second finger inside you. The feeling of your walls contracting and stretching around him was intoxicating. He wanted so badly to replace his fingers with his cock, but he had to show restraint. Not now...later.
“Aus!” Your head was thrown back against the pillow. He watched as his fingers slide in and out of you effortlessly, your tight walls hugging around him. He was power hungry off of watching you fall apart in his arms. 
Austin wasn’t about to ease up on you. He went faster, fingering you like his life depended on it. Slamming into you, applying just the right amount of pressure to your g-spot. Your pussy was making loud squelching noises in no time. 
“You like that baby, hmm? Being fucked mercilessly by my fingers?” He groaned in your ear.
“Yes!...just like that...” You screamed.
This man would be your undoing. Here you were, completely at his mercy, letting him use your body in however way he saw fit. As much as he was in the drivers seat right now, you wanted to show him how good you could be. You were playing a dangerous game, but your mind was already made up on the card you were going to deal right now. You were lost in the pleasure, and you needed more of him.
You couldn’t stop your hand from gliding over his toned chest and abs, earning a lustful sigh from Austin. Bolder yet, you instinctively went lower and lower until your fingertips brushed against the tip of his cock. His jaw flexed, tightly shutting his eyes, biting his tongue and swallowing back a moan. While he was having his way with your body he mostly neglected himself in favor of getting you off first. Your hand making contact with his hard cock drove him wild. 
As you dipped your toes in the water to see if this was acceptable to continue, he looked down at you. No longer could you see the icy blue eyes you so lovingly adored. They were completely black. If looks could kill, you’d be dead in this very moment. 
You knew what you were doing was okay when he rolled his hip in your hand, asking for you to go on, your fingers sliding along his shaft. He was pleading with his stare for you to touch him. His pulse quickened, waiting with baited breath for you to give him more. 
You knew better than to go any further with a dry hand, you weren’t a sadist. 
He huffed when you briefly pulled your hand away from his length, but his eyes widened when you went to spit generously into your palm. You felt him throb strongly against your leg. He knew he would be a done for as soon as your delicate hand milked his thick cock, but he also reminded himself that he was still in control -- his fingers were still buried to the hilt in your pussy after all. 
The guttural, loud groan that erupted from within him when your slippery hand wrapped around his pulsing shaft made your walls clench stronger around his fingers. You could have come just from hearing your man fall to pieces in your hand, literally. The pillars of power were now balanced. 
You started jerking him off, rotating your wrist expertly up and down his shaft and paying particular attention to circle the tip as you squeeze just the right amount of pressure.
Austin threw his head back and closed his eyes, blissed out on his cock finally being lavished with attention. “Goddamn it Y/N...my girl, my best girl.” He thrust his hips into your grip to get even more friction. 
All bets were off now. You may have gained the upper hand with how good you were stroking his cock, but you ignited something within him. He was about to turn animalistic on a dime. 
Somehow beyond your comprehension, he started brutally fucking you on his fingers even harder than before. His fingers were long, and your cervix was already feeling the beating it was getting by how sinfully hard he was thrusting into you. A thunderous growl erupted from his chest.
A strangled cry got caught in your throat. “Oh my god, Aus! Fuck!” You could have cried at how intense this feeling was. Your were riding off the back of your previously denied orgasm, and now you felt the familiar waves of another one lurking around the corner. He hasn’t even properly fucked you yet and he has you eating out of the palm of his hand. Both of you were caught up in the feeling of each other.
Now you were a woman on a mission. Not only were you going to get your climax, but you were going to have him chase his. The speed at which you were working his cock increased, making sure to give extra attention to his red tip. 
He tried his damndest to gain control of the situation, but you were jerking him off in a way he couldn’t help but give in to. For a split second his brain almost allowed himself to surrender, forgetting this game he started and take you right now, or come in your hand and be done for. He could honestly take either route right now. 
But he couldn’t faulter that easily. The gears in his brain started turning. As much as he wanted to focus on his pleasure, he flipped the situation back around to his favor. He started something he had to follow through with. 
“You’re my filthy little slut aren’t you?” He gritted through his teeth. You almost screamed in ecstasy when his thumb finally starting rubbing furious circles on your aching clit. “I know you wanna come baby...I know you’re close...so close”. Goddamn him, you both knew he was right. 
With his fingers sloshing around in your cunt, relentlessly pressing into your g-spot making your toes curl, and his thumb working your clit, it was only a matter of seconds before you collapsed around him with an earth-shattering orgasm. 
“P-Please...please” You pleaded, begging him with a string of loud squeals. Surely he wouldn’t let you go without another release. This had to be it this time. You gave his cock a harder squeeze, spurring him on, which earned you another deep, lustful groan he couldn’t suppress.
He bit his lip as he got off on watching his masterful hand bringing you to the edge all over again. The ungodly noises emanating from your mouth and your pussy was wicked. The ball was completely in his court, and unfortunately for you it was game over.
Austin’s fingers pumped into you once, twice, three times before he finally slid them out from you, your slick pouring out from your hole and getting the sheets underneath you drenched.
It seems like the universe was laughing at you in this moment.
Are. You. Kidding me? 
Your eyes sprang open and you peered down to your pussy where you saw Austin bring his fingers covered in your juices up to his mouth where he licked them clean. You fell back against the pillow, your chest heaving from having been denied a second orgasm. Frustrated didn’t even begin to describe how you felt right now.
He made sure you locked eyes with him as he slowly sucked on his fingers, a boyish smirk appearing on his face, well aware of the torture he was inflicting upon you. “You taste like fucking heaven.” He purred. At that point he was twisting the knife further in the wound. 
“I hate you so much right now.” You sighed in agony, defeated. You released your grip on his cock and ran your hands over your face. This felt like your own personal hell.
“You love it.” he said smugly.
As much as you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you were actually enjoying this, it was far too late for that. He was keeping you on edge for so long, denying the thing you so desperately ached for. But in the heat of the throws of passion, you were enjoying yourself. Yet again, he wasn’t wrong. There was an obvious pattern forming here. Your body was shaking at how badly you wanted to come, how close you were. Is it even possible to be this turned on?! Clearly, the answer was yes. But the real question was, when would he give you what you wanted? It surely wasn’t right now.
As you lay there pondering all of these questions, he moved onto his knees and placed himself in-between your legs. You could clearly see that your handjob did the trick -- he was leaking like a faucet about ready to burst. You were sure that Austin couldn’t contain himself for much longer either. The two of you were thoroughly enjoying this cat and mouse game.
He took hold of his cock with one hand and teasingly rubbed the tip through your slick folds, punctuating your clit with a few brisk taps. The moan that fell from your lips was almost blood curdling. He was so close yet so far from being done with you.
“Look at you, so strung out for my cock.”
As you writhed on the bed, clutching the bedsheets for purchase, he trailed hot kisses from your navel all the way up to your neck. Each and every touch of his mouth on your body reignites the already blazing inferno within you. His final destination lands him at your ear, where he takes your earlobe between his lips and gives a little nibble.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you wont even remember your own goddamn name.” You shiver at his hot words. He doesn’t let up on rubbing his cock against your pussy, he’s just getting started. “But first things first...”
Before you had time to react, he had his other hand wrapped around your throat. It wasn’t hard enough to choke you, but it was firm. 
“What’s my name?” He growled. 
Instinctively his name falls from your lips. “Aus-” but before you can finish, he applies more pressure to your neck, halting the air from entering your lungs.
“Wrong answer. Try again, darlin’.” The previous times you and Austin explored a more dominant and submissive role in the bedroom, you remembered the conversation where he specifically requested that you don’t refer to him by his name. He wanted a title. He liked exploring this illustrious form of power play with you, but obviously he would never take it to far extremes. Suddenly, the correct answer sprang back into your memory.
“Sir.” 
He flashed a crooked grin. “Atta girl”. As he released your neck from his grip, he got himself situated in the right position. He hovered over you, leaning his weight onto his forearm propped up by your head. Your heart beat loudly in your ears, you knew what was coming and your walls immediately clenched. 
Austin took hold of his cock and aligned himself perfectly with your weeping entrance. His brow furrowed, his jaw slack as he pushed the tip inside of you. The pair of you moaning loudly at the intense feeling of pleasure cascading over your bodies. And then slowly but surely, he filled you up completely to the brim. Your tight pussy eagerly swallowed him whole, taking every single delicious inch of his massive cock. 
There was a look in his eyes of pure ecstasy, of your dripping wet walls enveloping him to the hilt. The wild desire was evident on his face, but also he couldn’t hold back the unbridled love he had for you. He cherished the way your pussy enveloped him every single time he took you. 
He didn’t give you too much time to adjust to his size. You couldn’t hold back the loud moan you roared from the depths of your soul when Austin started slamming his cock into. Tonight was not a night for soft niceties. This was about burning, aching, primal fucking. His breath was hot on your face, never once looking away from how your beautiful features contorted with intense pleasure. 
“Oh F-Fuuuck!” You sobbed, head thrown back. Your nails dug into his biceps, trying to ground yourself in any possible way. He was fucking you so raw but so good. The feeling of your walls accommodating his girth was sinful for both of you. 
“That’s it baby, take my cock.” He groaned. Austin was pounding into you, unrelenting. He kept a rhythmic and steady pace, your juices coating him like a warm blanket and letting him back in every time he thrust into you.
Getting lost in the overwhelming feeling of you, Austin captured your lips in a zealous kiss. His tongue working against yours, exploring the crevices of your mouth. He cupped your face. and your hand tangled through his hair. He pined for your release, expertly working your pussy in a way that only he can do. 
Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, trapping him even closer to you, pushing him deeper into the expanse of your heat. Austin suddenly pulled away from your flushed lips and sat back on his heels, grabbing hold of your hips as he elevated your ass off of the bed to meet his cock, snapping into you at a furious speed. 
This new angle had you spiraling, his cock was ramming into that sweet spot deep inside your pussy in a brand new way that had you gushing around him, gasping for air. Your tight walls giving him an encouraging squeeze.
“Oh my god! Yes! Just like that.” you scream. The pleasure was forming with tenacity in your stomach. If you felt like you were floating only moments ago, then you were sure that your soul was leaving your body at this very moment. As he was riding you hard into the mattress you admired how drop-dead sexy he was. You studied this adonis of a man fucking the life out of you -- sweat was dripping down his furrowed brow, blonde tendrils fell down the slope of his forehead, his plush lip sucked into his teeth. You felt tipsy on his visceral sexuality as his throbbing length macerated the juices in your pussy. It was absolutely dirty. 
You were sure that all of New York City could hear you two caught up in the feeling of each other's bodies. But you didn’t give a damn. 
Austin knew all too well that he would be on the brink to spilling into you if he didn’t control himself. So he flipped the switch yet again. He quickly pulled out of you, suddenly leaving you missing the feel of him. 
“Get on your knees. Face down, ass up. Now.” He said hard and fast, he needed to be back inside you as quickly as possible. Austin guided you along as his hands smoothly flipped you over onto your stomach. Your face was buried in the pillow, your arms tucked in by your side and your ass high in the air on full display for him, just like he wanted. You were a good listener when you wanted to be. 
He couldn’t help but smack your voluptuous ass before he took hold of his cock again, running the tip over your slit, before bottoming out in your pussy in one fluid motion. You both moaned at the sudden intrusion and his thick cock back where it belonged. You were truly dickmatized.
He tightly clutched your hips as he brutally fucked you. Somehow his dick reached the depths of your pussy that you never even knew needed his upmost attention. Eagerly, you matched his his thrusts, slamming your hips back against him. This earned you a deep groan from him.
“Goddamn, such a good girl riding my rock...”
Your strangled moans were trapped between the pillow, your knuckles went white from keeping a vice grip onto the bed sheets. If he kept this up you knew you were on your way to your third impending orgasm. You just simply couldn’t get enough of him. He filled you wholly in the most naughty way, knowing exactly how to hit your g-spot every single time. It got all too much for you to bear, and tears sprang to your eyes threatening to spill over. Your senses were on fire, overstimulated by everything this man had to give you. 
Somehow reading your mind, Austin balled your hair in his fist, making a makeshift ponytail, and pulled, jerking your head back towards him. You gasped for air as you finally could breathe properly without the pillow suffocating you. 
“Who does this pussy belong to?” he groaned.
“You. F-Fuck, it belongs to you. My pussy is yours, Sir.”
“That’s right baby. It’s mine. All mine...”
Thrust.
“All mine.”
Thrust.
“Mine.” He snarled like a ferocious animal marking their territory. Your pussy was like the most addictive drug. He shuddered at how greedily your walls were milking his cock. He could have you like this for the rest of eternity. 
He let his tongue lick a hot stripe up the side of your neck before releasing your hair from his grip, your head falling forward like a ragdoll completely at his whim. As you turned your head to allow yourself to watch Austin railing your pussy, you bounced yourself back against his cock. 
The waves of pleasure were starting to roll stronger with each stroke. You hoped that you had acted like his good girl - no, his best girl, to get rewarded. One solitary tear fell down your cheek, his cock was expertly sending you to the path of no return. 
“Please...I-I can’t...I’m so close”. You pleaded with strangled moans. In all honesty, he was dangerously close too. He sputtered inside of you, his fingers digging even harder into your flesh.
“I know, baby”. He mused. As much as he loves tormenting you, keeping you at the precipice, he desperately yearns for both of your releases. He needs to feel you explode on his cock, your wetness spilling out onto him. And he needed to paint your walls with his come. 
His thrusts became sloppy, his hips snapping with a violent force, grazing your cervix in a deliciously painful way. Austin would at long last give you what you craved. In a devastating finishing move, he took two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them generously with his spit, and strummed your clit with determined ferocity. 
“You wanna come, baby?”
You screamed at the sudden contact to your throbbing clit. “Y-yes!! Please, sir, please let me come...”. You were hell-bent on coming if it was the last thing you’d do. As he was playing with your clit you bounced yourself harder on his cock, trying to coax both of your climaxes.  
“Do it. Now. Come all over my cock.” He howled through his clenched jaw.
Finally, you saw the finish line that was so far out of your reach the entire night. You let out a string of strangled crying moans, forcefully coming all over him. Your walls fluttered around him, engulfing his cock with your wetness. You came so hard you swear that you practically squirted. Your vison went white and you nearly passed out from the magnanimous orgasm he gave you. And he was in heaven. Watching you come undone was his kryptonite.
“God, Y/N! I’m gonna fucking come...” He roared loudly, head thrown back in bliss. 
Mustering the last bit of strength you have in you, you coo to him seductively. 
“Fill me up, Austin. Come inside me.” 
And with that, he chases his orgasm right after you, snapping his hips one final time and coming so hard he sees stars. He groans an enchanting mix of profanities and your name until he collapses on top of you, unable to hold himself up anymore. He was dead weight, but the feeling of his body brought you a sense of comfort. 
You both lay there for a while, a pile of sweaty limbs entangled on the bed, until he musters up some strength to lift himself off of you. Austin takes hold of his cock and slowly pulls out, watching his come seep out of you. He gathers what he can and pushes it back in, wanting every part of him to stay trapped inside your pussy for as long as possible. You moan at the intrusion from his fingers.
This was surely the most intense sexcapade you two have had to date. How the hell can sex with Austin keep being so fucking mindblowing?! This was one for the books. You sighed at the loss from his cock, your empty pussy still craving him inside of you. But you knew that you’d be feeling helplessly sore for days to come. 
Austin rolls over to his back, running his hands through his hair and trying to catch his breath. Making love to you was the only exercise he ever needed. A massive, stupidly beautiful grin was plastered on his face. The alpha male energy that took over him has now subsided, and the gentle Austin was back. 
As you turn over on your side to be drawn back into his loving arms, you rest your head on his chest. He brought your lips to meet his in a tender kiss, marking the end of the best sex you’ve both ever had. 
“I didn’t hurt you at all did I? I probably over did it at times. Sorry, baby. You just get me so worked up.” He spoke softly.
“No not at all Aus. Honestly, being manhandled by you is such a turn on.” You nuzzled into him. He chuckled contentedly, placing another chaste kiss on your lips. 
“Will keep that in mind for next time.”
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peachesofteal · 10 months
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Bc I love angst and making hearts heavy what if WHAT IF THE CALL FROM YOU IS THEM FINALY GOT YOU and you begged and pleaded that you have jo affiliation with soap and ghost anymore. That they wouldn't even answer the phone. They make you call them anyways. AND THEN SIMON ANSWERS and it's all tumbled in your brain. Happiness to hearing him and some birthday song in the background, anger, tjat je answerd. How dare he. Why did he changed that stupid habit now. Fear for ypu and fear of what they might know of bee.
SCREAMS! This is so ✨ ugh. Takes place after this.
18+ / Mature themes, mentions of self harm, torture. / disco baby au
“Simon?” His heart stops in his chest.
It’s you. It’s your voice, ringing through the phone. He glanced towards the kitchen, where Johnny is wiping Bee’s hands with a wet wipe. She’s babbling up at him, face like a cherub, and he smiles back at her, cheeks pushing up with genuine happiness. His heart hurts, just looking at them. His family. His family, missing a piece.
He says your name, not love, not Darling, your government name, and your breath hitches in the background.
Johnny stands straight up, wipe still crushed in his fingers, zeroing in on where he stands in the hall. Gaz has got Bee in his arms now, making funny faces to her pure delight, but Price is watching Simon closely, clued in by both his and Johnny’s sudden shift, their change in body language.
“Simon.” You say his name again, and his eyes narrow. You sound… different. Garbled. Like you’ve been crying, and all he can see is the handwritten notes in Bee’s chart about ‘Mum’ who the doctor worried had no support at home, ‘Mum’ who was given a laundry list of support resources for PPD.
He never thought he’d hear your voice again. Never thought they’d see you again.
“Darling, are you okay?” He asks softly, because right now, nothing else matters. He needs to know if you’re alright.
“I- I uh…” Bee shrieks in the background, screaming with laughter at Gaz and you stop speaking abruptly. “Is… is that?”
“Yeah, we’re having a little party. For her birthday.” Johnny stands at his shoulder.
“Darling?” He mouths, and Simon nods. Affirmative.
“That’s… good. That’s great.” Your voice cracks.
“Are you alright?” He repeats, and the line goes dead silent, like the mic has been muted. Price is now standing at the end of the hall, watching. “Darling? Are you there?”
A fist tightens in your hair, pulling it tight at the roots, and you hiss, trying to move to relieve the pressure but it’s no use. The barrel of the gun digs into your temple, and you try to take a deep breath. The man, the one you dubbed ‘big man’, crouches in front of you, and the one wearing the mask, gives you the ‘keep going’ signal, as you swallow the blood that’s pooled in your mouth.
“I- I’m here.” Simon. I’m here. I’m here. I miss you so, so much. I need you. You want to scream it at him, but the man points at the screen of the computer on the table to your side, the instructions very clear. Say this, don’t say that. You close your eyes. Why did he have to answer the phone?
Bee laughs again, in the background, and your heart breaks. Your baby. Your baby is there. Your baby is safe, with her Dads. Where she belongs.
Where they’re being traced to, right now. On this open phone line.
You have to warn them.
“How is she?” You ask, because you can’t help it, because you so desperately want to know. You want to know everything about her.
You didn’t want your baby to be a stranger, you didn’t want to leave her on the doorstep that day.
You didn’t know what else to do. You couldn’t stop hurting yourself. You needed help.
“She’s amazing.” He answers, and you close your eyes, sob welling in your chest. “Brilliant, beautiful. Like her mum. She’s our whole world.” You can’t fight your tears now, and you smile, even though your lip is split and your cheek is bruised.
“I’m so happy.” You whisper. You don’t fight to keep your voice controlled or even.
“What’s going on?” He asks sharply, and there’s some scuffling in the background.
“This line is being traced.” You blurt, and then there are hands grabbing for you, for the phone. “You’re not safe!” You scream. A fist crashes into the side of your head, and stars blink across your vision. The man who was holding the gun is now holding also holding the phone, and Simon’s voice is crackling across the air via speakerphone.
“Put her back on the phone. Now.” It’s a command, but one they don’t heed.
“Don’t think we will.” Big man says.
“If ye touch a fucking hair on her head…” Johnny shouts, and your heart twists at the sound of his voice. Johnny. Your Johnny. You miss him so much.
“Too late for that, mate. Not sure you’ll even recognize the pieces of her when we mail them.” A whimper slips from your mouth on accident, and you slam your eyes shut when the fingers yank at your hair again.
“I’m sorry!” You yell, because you have to, have to tell them that you’re so sorry. They made you call. You’d never put Bee in danger. Never put them in danger. “I’m so sorry, they made me, they-“ you don’t see the butt of the gun until it’s too late, until it’s whipping towards the side of your head, and then the entire world is fading to black as your body slumps towards the floor.
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moxfirefly · 3 months
Text
Greetings and salutations. I bring you a little nugget of something that’s been on my noggin for a while. I haven’t had the pleasure to experiment too much with AU’s so here I bring you two segments of just that.
Rated Mature.
So please enjoy and let me know if maybe y’all want more?
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It was that scar.
You hadn’t been necessarily subtle about it. You’d stared, wondered what could’ve gone wrong to have a man nearly lose an eye.
You liked making up stories of strangers, what their backstory and futures could be just on looks alone.
But when blue eyes had met your own, looked up from the local news paper, you felt as if he’d heard your mental fictions.
He was pretty.
Blue eyes, strong features and built.
Because mutants tended to be built, imposing, rough, dangerous.
But there was a softness to Blue Eyes here.
Somewhere between restarting your brain and the soft rattling of him pushing his mug towards your outstretched hand, you had finally poured a re-fill of a lemony scented tea he had ordered twenty minutes ago.
The cafe was a passion project, something you’d done on impulse when you hopped on a plane to run away from New York and its hollowness and move to Osaka.
To run away from the bad memories…
A bad guy.
“Are you alright?” Oh? He spoke English.
You nodded, dipped the kettle and refilled his mug. “Sorry, mornings aren’t really my thing.” You chuckled to lighten the mood, watched the corner of his mouth lift as he reached for the mug.
“Working in a cafe must’ve been a tough option.” His lips pressed to the ceramic, a large hand holding it as he softly blew.
The peak of a finger missing an inch to it making you squint.
Just how many scars could one individual have?
But he had looked at you again, piercing blue eyes gaging your thoughts, somehow digging into what your story was. Maybe he had made up his own.
You should’ve known, should’ve seen the tattoos peaking from the cuff of his dress shirt, the roughness to his demeanor.
You should’ve sensed the danger.
________
You ran from danger back in New York only to somehow find yourself enchanted by something far worse.
Because Leonardo (he had introduced himself at long last) screamed dangerous.
But he kept coming back to the cafe, each day he stayed just a little bit longer, his small talk became more of a lighthearted interrogation.
And those damn eyes of his never seemed to not follow you around the counter as you prepared and brewed for the patrons of the morning. His eyes were watchful, something kind of protective to them. Whenever the bell for the door ran he’d always cast a careful backwards glance.
Anticipating something?
He seemed to travel on the edge of a knife, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.
And you wanted to ignore the obvious, the setting, the place, the fresh cuts and bruises on his hands. You wanted the fantasy to remain just that.
Because deep down you knew that he ran in that lifestyle.
Yakuza.
It rang like an alarm in your brain, warning sirens to not get involved, to not find yourself in the fire pit.
One afternoon as he remained during your closing, he had stood up and adjusted the cuff of his suit.
“Do you wanna have dinner with me tonight?”
It was a simple question, a razors edge to it, the anticipation mixing with water running from the sink. You had stopped, hand sopping wet from washing mugs and glasses.
You stared at him, watching those calculating eyes of his gage your reaction.
That little voice told you to say no, desperately to just let this be a fleeting thing. Let Leonardo be a fantasy, don’t jump into that dark ocean and let the current sweep you away.
“Yes…I’d like that.”
‘These violent delights…’
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It felt more like a light version of Wack-a-Mole. Gently but intentionally shoving all these screaming adolescents and young adults away from the object of their desire.
You waved and smiled, signed what you could when several high glossy portraits of yourself were shoved into your eyesight. A massive arm wrapped around your shoulders and tugged you into hard scales and you caught the warning glare Raph had shot to a handsy guy.
‘Just get her to the hotel entrance’ That was all Raph was thinking, if he could haul ass with you through this sea of screaming fans in the next sixty seconds he’d pat himself on the shell.
So he held you closer, pushed through and as gently and professionally as he could pushed through the doable doors.
Hotel security could keep everyone at bay, your poor assistance somehow alive and inside as well moved quickly to the front desk to check you in.
“Never get tired of that shit?” he asked you with a smirk, making sure to keep your body covered by his much larger form.
“Just part of the job description, some of them can be endearing.” You adjusted your sunglasses, shooting a thanks to your assistant when they jogged back towards you with a room card.
“Y/N you have an interview tomorrow at 9am so there’s a 7am wake up call for hair and makeup to get up to your room. After that it’s the photo shoot at noon and finally the concert at MSG, I’ll be here early to get everything started.” They were an efficient assistant sometimes doubling more like a parent.
“She got time to sleep somewhere in there peepsqueak?” Raph was already escorting you towards the elevator. Your assistant rolled their eyes.
“Be nice Raphie, they keep the order, I just do the fun stuff.” You waved back as you climbed into the elevator with Raph.
In the quiet steel and glass you took a minute to sigh and stretch. While it was fun it could be pretty exhausting running around from show to show. You felt your phone vibrate, the work one, and allowed yourself the luxury of not dealing with it. Closing your eyes briefly you centered yourself.
“Ya good?” Raph’s voice, the soft one he only reserved for you, mixed with the ping of each floor.
“A little stiff, but I’m alright. What about you?” You watched Raph huff a little laugh, incredulous to assume that this was enough to even remotely tire him out. When the doors open he stepped out first to make sure the halls were empty before alerting you to follow suit.
“You know you can chill out now, clock out technically.” You opened the door to your latest hotel suit and watched Raph go in and do his usual perimeter walk.
One time some obsessed fan had hidden in the suit you had stayed in, and while it hadn’t been a violent situation it had spooked you and angered Raph enough to always check the room before letting you settle in.
“Looks clear, although C- for not having those chocolates on the bed.” Man he kinda wanted something sweet.
He smiled at your laugh watching you plop on the chase lounge near the window.
He could feel his own phone, not the work one, vibrate in the pocket of his jeans.
“Do you want to stay?” Came your voice, light and floaty like an inviting drink.
Raph knew this wasn’t exactly right, but it hadn’t been right the last fourteen hotels ago.
You turned to study him, a flirtatious smile spreading across your beautiful lips.
Those lips had been around his dick last night on the limo ride to some after party.
Something in the jittery electric feel of his legs, urging him to move, to put an end to this not so professional relationship.
“Raphie?” You asked, jacket coming off, heels being kicked off, skin inviting him.
He ran the back of his palm across his mouth, caught the faint scent of you from just this morning (where he had fingered you in the shower of the last hotel).
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
He swallowed the nerves, swallowed it and let it simmer in the pit of his stomach.
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