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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days ago

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Hi, I read your review of Eddie teaching his shy girlfriend how to kiss and it made me think about how sweet and patient he would be with her when they took their relationship a step further. I wasn't the one who requested the first review, but I was wondering if you could write a second part.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, grinding

part one

Eddie opens the door to the hotel room that he payed for the two of you to stay the night in. You had discussed taking your relationship to at length and you decided that you were finally ready.

He wants this night to be perfect for you. Someone’s first time should be special, especially in his mind. His wasn’t so he wants to be as kind and gentle as possible, repeatedly telling you how well you’re doing, how pretty you look.

You’re nervous, he can tell. You’re constantly wringing your hands and biting down on your bottom lip as your eyes dart around the room. Eddie’s wondering now if maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should just take you home.

“This is a nice room,” you tell him as you sit down on the edge of the bed, setting your duffle bag at your feet. “You didn’t have to get a hotel room for this, Eddie.”

“Do you not like it? Is it too much?” Now he’s nervous and you hate that he’s overthinking it. He’s done something so nice for you and it kills you that he think he’s fucked to.

“No, no,” you shake your head as you take his hands in yours, pulling him towards you so he’ll sit next to you. “I love it. This is so sweet. I’m sorry. I’m just…nervous.” You’re wringing your hands again and Eddie takes them in his, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

“And you have every right to be. This is a whole new thing that you’re not used to. But I’m gonna be so gentle, gonna show you just how much I love you.” His honey eyes are boring into yours and you swear that your heart stops for a second.

He loves you. And he said it with so much meaning, as if it was something he had thought about it for a long time.

“You love me?” You ask, your eyes lighting up and the two of you are now smiling like idiots.

“More than you’ll ever know. Now come here.” He gestures for you to lean in so you and his hands rest on your hips while yours wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer.

“I love you too,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling his waist. His hands move higher up your back as he lets you take the lead, your tongue dipping into his mouth.

This is safe, comfortable. You’ve done this now more times than you can count. These exact movements in this exact position and you can always tell that Eddie has been holding back as you often feel his erection against you.

But this time you’re not going to ignore it when it inevitably happens. You’re finally going to go all the way and Eddie is the only person you’d want to do it with. He’s nothing but sweet and gentle and he loves you. He loves you.

Eddie moans into your moan and you’re getting wetter as your make out session progresses. You feel him underneath you and need to something about it, something that doesn’t require you to take your clothes off just yet.

You try your best to grind against him but you don’t think you’re doing it right as Eddie laughs into your mouth. It’s more because he thinks you’re cute and not because he’s making fun of you. He would never do that. His hands move down to your waist, moving you back and forth so that you’re grinding against him the right way.

Once you get the hang of it, you take the lead as your lips find his again, his cock getting even harder underneath you as he moans into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his.

“Do you want to take another step?” He asks, pulling back to look at you, his hands moving up and down your back.

“Yes please,” you beg, getting wetter by the second.

“Can I take off your dress?” His eyes are searching your face for any sign of hesitance but he doesn't see it. But he still waits for you to respond.

“Yes.” You nod, trying to not seem too excited.

His hand moves up to the zipper on the back of your dress and he pulls it down slowly. Your eyes stay on him as he pushes it down to your waist, your pretty, lacy bra now on full display. One hands stays on your him while his other one moves up, his fingers grazing the lace with a feather light touch.

Eddie presses his lips to yours once again as he slowly picks you up, your lips continuing to move together as he carries you over to the left side of the bed. He pulls the cover back with one of his hands and helps you into it. You look so pretty and he can't wait to show just how pretty he think you are.

He gets in the bed with you, pulling the blankets over your bodies so that you're cover. He notices that you've slipped off your dress and that it's now crumpled up by the side of the bed.

"Can I remove these?" He asks, his fingers looping through the waistband on your panties."

"Yes please," you nod and he slips them off with ease and tosses them on top of your dress then looks up at you, silently asking permission to move onto the next stop.

"I-I'm gonna stretch you out, okay? Wanna make sure you're ready for me." You nod, knowing exactly what he means. You've read lots of smutty book so you know exactly what to expect.

"Okay," you nod. His fingers make their way inside you, pumping as slow as possible to get you used to the feeling. This is like nothing you've ever experienced before. You clutch his shoulders as his fingers move in and out, already feeling a moan in the back of your throat. You don't know why you're so afraid to let it out. It's a normal thing to do in this situation and you're sure that Eddie would love to hear it.

"So good," you finally moan and if just his fingers are making you feel this way, you can't help but wonder what he'll feel like inside you.

"That's a pretty sound," he compliments as his lips find yours again. "Wanna make it for me again?"

"Mhm," is all you're able to get out and his fingers move just a little faster and you moan even louder. He's imagined this so many times but the sounds you're making are much prettier than he's been thinking.

"Oh," you moan again and even though Eddie's desperate to see just how much you can take, he decides against it. Maybe after you've done this a couple of times. He's still determined to make this a gentle first time for you. Soft and sweet just like you.

"I think I'm ready," you tell him as your fingers dig into his shoulders.

His continues to kiss you, taking your hands and guiding them to the bottom of his shirt. Your fingers latch onto it and you pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side as he takes off his pants, followed by his underwear.

In the blink of an eye, he's undressed and putting on a condom that seemed to appear out of thin air. He then looks down at you, that lovesick smile on his face. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else with anyone else. And it warms his heart that he's the only person you'd want to take this step with. He's nothing but honored.

His lips find yours once again as his hands slide underneath you, unhooking your bra with ease before letting it slide to the floor with all of your other clothes.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he sighs as he looks as your naked chest, then his eyes snap up to your face and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling you down to him for what seems like your millionth kiss of the night, but neither of you mind. You could easily do this for hours and have.

"Tonight is all about you, sweetheart," he murmurs against your lips before pulling away and you whine at his absence. "Greedy," he chuckles. "Just let me say this then you can have all of the kisses you want."

"Fine."

"If I do something you don't like or you want to stop at any point, don't hesitate to let me know, okay? On the opposite end, feel free to make as much noise as you want. It's actually encouraged. I-it's important to me that you enjoy yourself."

"Thank you for saying all of that. That makes me feel a lot better."

"Good," he nods, happy that he made you feel less nervous about the whole thing.

"Now kissy?" You pucker your lips and Eddie rolls his eyes at you before giving in.

"Give me your hands first," he instructs and you give them to him before he laces your fingers together before lying them against the bed. He then places himself on top of you, his lips capturing yours as his tongue slides into your mouth. You moan at the sensation just like you always do and Eddie's getting harder by the second.

He slowly slides inside you and you wince at the sensation, but as soon as thrusts, the pain lessens just a little. The whole thing feels odd, foreign, but you have to admit that you're starting to understand why people are doing it all the time.

The more he thrusts into you, the more you get addicted to the feeling, moaning whenever you feel the need to, the sounds you're both making and your labored breaths mixing together in the air.

His hair is hanging down above you and his face is sweaty and he lets out moans of his own. He looks so hot and you can't believe that he's yours. That he paid for a hotel room and one that was far enough away from everyone so no one would hear the two of you. He's been nothing but a gentleman your entire relationship and you hope he sticks around forever. Knowing Eddie and how wrapped around your finger he is, you're certain that he will.

"Just like that," you tell him as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.

"Yeah?" He asks. "Like this?" He hits it again and you feel like you're going to black out but you don't dare ask him to stop.

"God, yes," you moan and he continues, doing it again and again as your hands hold onto his for dear life, making his skin turn even more white. You're close you, you can feel it.

"Taking me so well," he compliments and you think you're going to be fully melted by the end of the night because of his sweet words. "Maybe next time I'll let you have the whole thing," he winks.

"Eddie," you whine. "I think I'm gonna-" and right on cue, an orgasm courses through you, your back arching as you do so, your boyfriend's name passing through your lips as he gets one last thrust in before your back hits mattress, Eddie following you as he pulls out.

He disposes of the condom and lies with his head on your chest, his hands moving up and down your bare hips as he murmurs sweet nothings against your skin to lull you into a much needed sleep.

"You did so good," he tells you, pressing a kiss to the spot right between your breasts. "Did you have a good time?"

"So much fun," you slur, feeling sleep taking over your body.

It's the best first time you could have ever asked for. Eddie was an absolute gentleman and you didn't expect any different. You wonder if you ask nicely then maybe you can have your second in the morning. Since he's never able to say no to you, you think you'll take the chance. He does love you after all.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

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snazzynacho · 2 days ago

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— Bloodthirsty Demon

Part 1/?

Emperor Geta x wife!Reader

Words: 3K. Read on ao3. Masterlist.

Fandom: Gladiator II (2024)

Summary: You and your husband Geta get worked up over a bloody gladiatorial fight. Geta is engrossed by your bloodthirstyness. (Oh, and Caracalla’s there too, being cute hehe.) (pre-gladiator II I guess.)

Warning(s): Violence, Blood, Gladiatorial fight, pet names used, Y/N used only twice, mention of intercourse, very horny flirty, no smut sorry (maybe in a second part if I write it.). 🔞

A/N: please someone take my cellular device away from me. (actually please don't. i’ll explode.)

The view of the Colosseum is always magnificent, especially from your Emperor(s) and Empress's booth which has a perfect view for your majesties.

Your husband, Geta, is sitting on your right with his brother to his right—all three of you are glued to the arena below. The gladiatorial fights are always something you all enjoy.

It is a moment of pure release and energy—the blood and gore, the incessant roars and screams of the crowd—is invigorating.

Geta usually picks a fighter to root over, only to drop him when he senses him losing. This time, there seems to be no one bother rooting for. He orders more wine, holding his goblet up in the air, to which a servant promptly refills with red wine. Caracalla leans over to murmur something into Geta’s ear which causes the man to giggle like a drunken schoolboy into his goblet.

You glance over, seeing them giggle, which amuses you much to you trying to hide the evidence. Seeing their brotherhood, untainted by Caracalla’s illness or imperial duties, is a heartwarming sight to see.

Geta glances over, seeing you smirk into your goblet. An eyebrow quirks and the emperor gives you a side eye look. "And what are you smirking at?" He asks, slurring his words ever so slightly. He has already downed several cups of wine, after all.

“Just enjoying the view of my amused husband,” you coo, your voice low and sultry, leaning near him ever so closely.

This response makes him laugh, in his usual hyena like manner. “Enjoying the view of me, are you?" He slurs slightly before gesturing towards the should-be bloody spectacle below. "But my dear, I did not realise you had a taste for bloodshed.” he leans closer as well, “Unless you are getting off on a different kind of view…" he jokes, giving you a sinful look.

“You know I cannot resist either,” you glance away from him back to the fight, checking in, but you already know not much has happened as Caracalla has stayed pretty quiet, which is unlike him.

Geta chuckles at your response and leans back in his throne. He motions with his hand for a servant to top up his wine once more, before fixing you with an amused smirk again. "Now I'm not sure what to think. Maybe I should be concerned when my blushing bride says she loves bloodshed.” He snickers to himself then takes a long gulp, the strong wine coursing down his throat.

You hum. “Yes, maybe you should,”

You eye the abysmal fighting in the arena below. A scowl forms on your face. Whats taking them so long? Why is the fight so boring!? You need another drink. Maybe that will liven it up and trick you into thinking it is fun. You hold your goblet up in the air and a servant refills it with red wine and down it.

Geta’s gaze returns to the colosseum, his reaction is the same as yours. His nose slightly crinkles with disgust as one gladiator misses another. “Gods, this is a boring fight...they're useless.” he voices your thoughts.

"Come here," Geta demands, his attention wearing at the boring fight, crooking a finger towards you, beckoning you to draw closer to him. As you do, he slides a hand around your waist like a snake pulling in its prey and pulls you into his lap, resting possessively on your thigh. “Maybe you're secretly a bloodthirsty devil like me. I wouldn’t be surprised." He smirks and glances at the fighting below, his eyes following with intensity. Every punch thrown, every splash of blood, every cry of pain. The Emperor's dark brown eyes reflected a strange excitement as he watched, his other arm draped over the back of chair. But it’s not enough. He needs more. All three of you do.

“Of course, I am. It was the first thing we bonded over,” you reply casually, quirking an eyebrow and smirking at him.

“Mmm, yes. I do recall that now. You were so shy, and when I asked you if you like fighting and bloodshed, you were like an excitable little demon." Geta chuckles and sips his wine, his arm squeezing you a bit tighter as he does so.

You cackle at your resemblance between yourself and a ‘excitable little demon’, as your husband describes, so hard that you have to explain to Caracalla what you are laughing about which sends the three of you into drunken hysterics.

Geta's grip on your waist tightens, as he laughs alongside you and Caracalla. His wine threatens to spill from his cup from laughing so hard, as do all your goblets, his chest heaving as he cackles like a hyena.

You then hear Caracalla squark laughter when he finally notices you are sat on his brother’s lap. “Have you become so bored you are going to fuck?!” he wheezes out more laughter.

Geta's grip on you loosens as he laughs with his brother, both men’s laughs turn into cackling like madmen. Caracalla is drunk. Extremely drunk, and the alcohol slurs his words as he expresses, “I'd forgotten about that, brother. She made quite an impression on you that night, didn't she!"

“Oh, shush, Cara,” you say playfully, leaning over to smile at him. Caracalla giggles, giving you a crooked grin in return.

Geta laughs all the more as his brother reminds him of your first meeting. He remembers it like it was yesterday, how you revealed your true devilish side to him on that night, and he was enraptured. “ah, yes. An impression I will never forget.”

The gladiator below makes yet another mistake and trips over his own feet. “Gods, this has to be the worst fight of the century. At this rate, the winner will be whoever gets lucky first. If any of this is even considered fighting..." Geta sniggers, and Caracalla giggles in agreement.

At that, you down the last of your wine, and cry, “GET ON WITH IT!” into the arena below. You do not know exactly who you're saying it about or to but, like Geta says, it’ll be whoever gets lucky.

They laugh and howl like insane men at your sudden bloodthirsty reaction and Geta downs his drink too, before shouting out at the gladiators. “HEAR THAT? YOUR EMPRESS WANTS A BLOODY FIGHT, GIVE HER ONE!”Geta's bellowing demand rings out around the Colosseum, and for a moment there's an eerie quiet that follows.

The gladiators below glance around for any sign of you, the Empress, and even their opponents stop and glance up at the viewing box. Then, a collective roar from the audience sounds, as they pick up on both your words, shouting and cheering in consensus. Your Emperor snickers and nudges you with a grin that's all teeth with his wild eyes. "Look at them scramble around. You'd think you're a goddess descended from the heavens."

Geta holds you firmly in his lap and he leans in to whisper in your ear, his hot breath against your skin, while his hand travels down to your thigh. “I have to say, you shouting like that was unexpected, my dear. But extremely arousing all the same," Your husband’s whispered admission is punctuated by a low growl, and his grip tightens on your thigh, giving you a kiss on your neck. It hits the sensitive vein perfectly and you bite your lip, squirming delightfully in pleasure. He pulls you closer, his chest pressing flush against your back, as he eyes the arena.

The gladiators now fight with more fervor, clearly trying to please you—their empress. It's a brutal and bloody brawl, just as you have ordered. One of the gladiators particularly obliges, brandishing a sword in vigour and roars for the crowd making Caraclla clap in giddiness.

Geta leans down and murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, the same sensitive spot he just pecked, sending shivers down your spine. “He's putting on quite the performance, my dear, perhaps we should reward him for it." He smirks, his hands caress your thigh with a possessive squeeze. Geta’s attention drifts back to the arena, watching the fight below with rapt interest, hearing Caracalla continue to joyfully react to an intense squall between two gladiators.

“I don’t know what fight you have been watching but he’s done the bare minimum so far.”

Geta scoffs at your comment. "I could say the same about all of them, they're all lacking." However, he then smirks again. He has always loved how you challenge him. "Ah, but maybe I'm a little biased. I'm watching a much more entertaining performance in my lap after all."

“Aw, you sweet thing,” you twist your neck to look at him, holding his chin with affection and a tad of harshness, all the while you hold your goblet up in your other hand for another refill.

Geta grins. His eyes drink you in like a parched man. His grip on your thigh tightens once more, as he leans his face in even closer. He murmurs against you skin, his words a low timber against your ear. “You call me sweet, yet you are the only person I would allow to handle me with any sort of harshness, and still find it attractive."

You end up in a fit of giggles at his words. The combination of his sweet words and wine make you feel light headed. Your giggling quickly changes into a squeal though, as the fight becomes rather exciting. In the blink of an eye, a gladiator has punctured another so hard in the most perfect vein that blood sprayed up, as another got killed by a tiger. It excites the baying crowd, who eagerly roars for more. Bloodthirsty hyenas they are, likewise with you and the Emperors.

With Caracalla maniacally laughing again, banging his hands excitedly against the armrests, your hungry gazes eat up the gruesome entertainment.

Geta's grip on you tightens further. His hand slides up along your thigh to rest at your hip. He pulls you closer into his lap, the excitement in the air palpable. He chuckles heartily at your reaction, your squeal. His fingers dig into your hip slightly as he hears your squeal, the gladiator below has just been killed by a tiger. How dramatic.

His attention is on the fight once more, his eyes glue to the sight of blood and violence with a voracious stare. In the arena below, another gladiator meets a brutal death, and the crowd roars once more. Geta is all too entertained, and he tightens his grip on your thigh again. “Excellent! I was beginning to fall asleep! Caracalla, did you see that?! Did you see that, Y/N? One death by tiger, and then another pierced through. You made the right call." His hands momentarily become free, leaving your thigh and handing his goblet to a nearby servant, to clap, before returning back to your flesh and downing another gulp of wine. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and it's clear the bloodbath below is having quite the effect on him too. “Perhaps you should order them to fight to the death more often,” Your emperor purrs into your ear. “You're always so entertaining when you're bloodthirsty."

“I know. You should listen to me more,”

Geta's hand on your leg tightens again, as he leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watches the action enthralled. “Gods, you're such an arrogant thing." The emperor laughs in response to your reply, he's thoroughly mesmerised by your words and he knows you're right. “I should listen to you more, my sweet. You have excellent taste after all,” he commends, more so referring to himself which makes you shake your head in amusement.

The fight has reached its climax leaving two gladiators left and the crowd is going tumultuous. The gore is his favourite thing. You can feel the adrenaline in him as he shifts in his seat with a thrill. Geta's lips then skim along your throat, leaving a trail of small kisses as he watches the massacre below continue.

Geta watches his brother Caracalla, who is now completely and utterly wasted, bellowing with laughter hysterically. Turning his attention to you, Geta gives a sly smile on his face. "Gods, look at him. He's completely gone. Too much wine and too much blood. I hope he keeps it down and not throw it all back up again."

“You can never have too much, husband.” you say, a cheeky arid look in your eyes.

A low chuckle rumbles its way out of his chest, his teeth grazing the crook of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin there. “My sweet devilish wife,“ he can't resist giving your thigh a quick smack. “But I do prefer to have you all to myself when I’m intoxicated. And I think I’d rather not be covered in his vomit a second time this week.” he raises his goblet to the servant standing patiently nearby and motions for a refill. The servant, as always, quickly obliges, and refills his drink. The red liquid sloshes as the cup is handed back into Geta’s shaky hand. Geta takes a long, slow drink, closing his eyes and savouring the taste.

He lowers the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before speaking. “I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself right now, in fact. But I’m not sure what the Senate will think of that,” he huffs, as his hand has somehow found its way under your stola.

You feel a tickle on your bare thigh, and the rings adorning his fingers are cold differing against your flushed body. “Geta!” you gasp at his sudden touch under your clothing. “You must be extremely intoxicated!” you burst out laughing, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger as if you are not in the same drunken condition as him.

He scrunches his face at your touch. As punishment he drags his hand further up, tracing your inner thigh. You slam your hand on his hand under your stola to stop him from moving any further. “Not in public!” you squeal, but neither of you can deny the effect he has on you. He’s become very good at reading you over the years.

Geta laughs devilishly, amused by your feeble attempt to stop his wandering hand. His eyes flash with intense desire. He does not reply at first, merely drinking you in like you’re his goblet of wine.

“Public, private. I don’t care. I want you, now. I don’t care if the whole Senate watches. I doubt they’d be surprised. We're not exactly the most discrete when it comes to…our affections." His breath is hot on your neck, his lips finding their way to the sensitive spot that had him nibbling at before. Only this time he can’t resist but to clamp his mouth down, giving you a hickey.

When he pulls back, he grins at the sight of the red mark blossoming on your skin. He smirks at you, a naughty twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Besides, I think they'd be more worried about what they're seeing down below." He nods his head down at the arena. The final two gladiators are still going at it.

A loud whoop from Caracalla and the enigmatic loudness of the crowd breaks the spell he has on you (or one you have put on him), tearing your gaze away from each other. One gladiator has the other pinned to the ground now. It’s nearing the end.

“So am I. Now hush,” You place your finger against his lips, turning your attention to the action below. As you do, you feel a pair of teeth graze your finger, biting down just a little.

Gasping, you flick your eyes back at Geta. “You wild animal,”

Geta is about to reply to your counteraction, an equally naughty one, to your comment, until he is interrupted.

“The gods must speak!” Caracalla, who is now on his feet, hollers, pointing at the action below. His signalling for Geta to give his opinion on whether or not the gladiator shall kill his fellow opponent or not works as Geta hands his goblet for a servant to take, gives you a sympathetic look and gently guides you off his lap. His hand still clutches your waist possessively.

You already know what answer he is going to choose. You've got him too worked up not to.

He raises his arm out with his thumb in a neutral position. He's thinking. He closes his eyes, all drama and theatrics, while he searches for the god’s answer on this duel and whether two men will walk free or only one.

After a moment of suspense, you grasp the hand of his that is on your waist, while the other traces the pattern of his toga you have memorised. This seems to snap him out of his mind, his eyes popping open with the most wickedest look ever. He slowly sneers, as his wrist rotates downward, his thumb pointing down to the ground.

Everyone roars and chants hysterically in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the demise ahead. The loser on the ground keeps his head low, already accepting his death. The winning Gladiator holds his sword in the air.

The three of you majesties lean over the bannister in awe, wanting to capture the very last moments of this gladiator’s life and his morbidly fascinating gruesome end.

The sword gleams in the harsh sunlight, as it suspends down, cutting the loser’s neck, slicing his head clean off. You scream, but not in terror. You’re giddy, and jump up and down, clapping your hands, just as Caracalla is with you. Geta stays put in the middle of you two. His grin is venomous and mixed dangerously with lust. He gazes out to the audience, his people, Rome’s children. They're just as worked up as he is inside, as you and Cara are outwardly. In these moments, he’s filled with warmth that he has put on a great spectacle for all to see, to root for, to celebrate.

Now, it’s his turn to celebrate you, his wife, the empress…his bloodthirsty demon.

(YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS.)

A/N: There may be part 2…we’ll see 👀

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#snazzynacho fanfics #emperor geta x reader #emperor Geta #geta x reader #geta x you #emperor geta x you #x you #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader #emperor Geta x female reader #Geta x female reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2

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womenwoso · 2 days ago

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Thank you so much for the kind words on my last fic. It's really appreciated. Thank you to @helen-with-an-a for being amazing and proofreading. Hope you enjoy and requests are open. Please send in ideas.

Hard questions

Mapí León was perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes showing her exhaustion after a long day of practice. Fresh from a shower, her damp hair was wrapped in a towel when Clara burst into the room, her little face beaming with excitement.

“Mamí!” Clara exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “I saw a picture of you in your Spain jersey at school today! You looked so happy, like me when I play football with you and all my tias. When do I get to play with them again? Why don’t you play for Spain anymore, do you not love Spain?

Mapí paused, Clara was in the stage of asking questions constantly, but this question hung in the air like a heavy cloud. She had anticipated this moment. Clara was getting old enough to ask tough questions—ones that carried a lot of history, choices, and feelings that Mapí had kept to herself but she hadn’t expected this question just yet.

For a brief moment, Mapí was silent, just gazing at her daughter, who was looking back at her with wide, innocent eyes, eager for a response.

“Clara, honey,” Mapí began gently, pulling her onto her lap, “It’s not that I don’t love playing for Spain anymore. I’ve always loved it. I still do.”

Clara tilted her head, clearly puzzled. “Then why don’t you play with my tias? You’re the best player! Tia Ale plays for Spain, so does Aita, Patri, Jana and Irene. All the girls play for a country there's a lot of countries more than just Spain. It's so cool. ”

Mapí let out a soft laugh, gently pushing a lock of hair away from Clara’s forehead. “You know, being the best doesn’t always cut it. Football is more than just skills—it’s about the teammates, the environment, and how you feel … on the inside.”

Clara looked puzzled, her little brain trying to process the information. “But … but you’re amazing, Mamí! You helped Spain win! Why wouldn’t they want you anymore?”

Mapí felt a weight in her chest. She had kept the real reasons for stepping back from the national team to herself, not wanting to overwhelm Clara with the complicated details. But now, her daughter deserved honesty, even if it was tough to share.

“Sometimes, Clara,” Mapí said, her voice thick with feeling, “sometimes the people in charge don’t treat you the way you should be treated. They don’t do their jobs properly and might end up hurting people. They might not recognise your worth. And when you feel that way for too long, it gets hard to keep going. When something like that happens, iIt hurts. And when something hurts, you have to think about what’s best for you.”

Clara paused, clearly processing everything. Mapí could see the little gears working in her brain. “So... you left … because they were … mean? … to you?”

Mapí gazed into her daughter’s eyes, so similar to her own, feeling a pang in her heart. “Sí carino, something like that. But it’s not just about being nice. It’s about feeling valued and … and being respected. Football is all about teamwork, but it is also based on trust and support. When those things are missing, it gets really tough to keep playing.”

Clara seemed to ponder this for a while, a little crinkle forming in her brow. Finally, she asked, “Are you going to go back?”

Mapí offered a gentle smile, a blend of sadness and hope shining in her eyes. “I’m not sure, nena. Sometimes, people need a little time to heal before they can return to something and sometimes you have to step away so the changes that need to be made can happen. Right now, I’m focusing on Barça and making sure I’m in a good place, where I can be the best version of myself … the best Mamí I can be for you. I can’t promise I’ll ever play for Spain again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the game or my country. I do. Always.”

Clara looked up at her mom, her tiny hands resting on Mapí’s arm. “I want you to play for Spain again. I want to see you in the jersey.”

Mapí’s heart warmed, her daughter’s words reminding her of the love that kept her going every day. “Maybe one day, pequeña. Maybe one day.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the heaviness of their talk hanging in the air. Mapi realised that Clara didn’t grasp everything completely, but she could see the love and hope shining in her daughter’s eyes. And honestly, that was enough for now.

With a gentle kiss on Clara’s forehead, Mapí pulled her in for a tight hug. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my biggest supporter. That’s what really counts.”

Clara beamed, resting her head on her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll always cheer for you, Mamí. Forever.”

#womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso soccer #mapi leon #barca femeni #mapi leon x reader #woso x reader

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mista-svech · 3 days ago

Text

You Should Probably Leave - Lia Wälti x Reader

Part Two

Summary: Your’s and Lia’s complicated relationship always ended the same way, but neither of you knew how to resist.

Authors Note: This is my first fic I’ve wrote in about a year and a half, so bear with me. This is based off the song You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton which I’m obsessed with currently. I might do a part two if wanted. Enjoy, and please leave feedback!

I know it ain't all that late

But you should probably leave

It was just supposed to be a casual night at the bar after a win with the team, nothing more, nothing less. But of course, nothing in your life was ever that simple especially when Lia was involved.

It was no secret that you and her had a very complicated relationship, that never really went anywhere, and kept hurting one or both of you. But despite everyone desperately trying to get the two of you to move on, nobody could. It always ended the same way, you falling into bed with the Swiss, and convincing her that it’s not a good idea. You knew deep down that it would just end the same way it always did, but that never seemed to keep you two apart.

So here you are, sat across from her in a dimly lit bar, surrounded by the quiet buzz of conversations surrounding you two. You quickly glance down at the time on your phone seeing how it’s only 9pm, but you know if you stay any longer you won’t be able to resist her.

The conversation was easy between the two of you, as it always was. But somewhere along the way, it shifted. The way her gaze lingered a little too long, the way her laugh held a note of something unspoken it all felt too familiar. So you spoke up, “Lia, I should probably get going”

And I recognize that look in your eyes

Yeah, you should probably leave

You couldn’t help but feel it, that flutter in your chest every time she looked at you with her hazel eyes. Deep down you knew she agreed with you, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

'Cause I know you and you know me

And we both know where this is gonna lead

You shifted in your seat, trying to hide the way your heart betrayed everything you knew would happen. She caught the movement, her eyes narrowing slightly in concern.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice smooth like velvet but with a hint of something searching, something soft.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I-, Lia I- should probably get going back home…”

Lia studied you for a moment, her brow furrowing, before she leaned back, giving you a knowing look. She knows what will happen if you two stay in each others company much longer, “Uh yeah, we probably should..”

You want me to say that I want you to stay

So you should probably leave

Yeah, you should probably leave

The two of you just stare into each others eyes for what feels like an hour, you know that look. The look where she is waiting for you to ask her to come with you, but you just stare back. Despite trying to leave multiple times, you never actually get up from the barstool. All you do is let out a sigh and think to yourself I really should leave, yeah…

There's still time for you to finish your wine

Then you should probably leave

You tell yourself that you will stay long enough to finish your beer until you call the uber. Whatever to make yourself feel better right?

And it's hard to resist, alright, just one kiss

Then you should probably leave

The more she looked at you, the more you felt the walls you’d built start to crumble. You had to pull away, had to stop this before it went any further, but something inside of you just couldn’t. She kisses you, and obviously you kissed back.

“Lia…” you muttered, pulling away. You could feel the weight of her gaze pressing on you, and it was both comforting and overwhelming.

Cause I know you and you know me

But we both know where this is gonna lead

You want me to say that I want you to stay

So you should probably leave

Yeah, you should probably leave

Despite everything that you thought you knew about Lia and You, you still couldn’t bring yourself to walk away. Yet still you thought to yourself, I should probably leave. Again whatever you had to do to make yourself feel better.

Like a devil on my shoulder, you keep whisperin' in my ear

And it's gettin' kinda hard for me to do the right thing here

I wanna do the right thing, baby

Once again she gave me that look, and I gave it right back. Being a professional footballer, you always were very strong mentally. Except when it came to her, you were practically fighting everything in your heart that wanted you to stay. You knew that if you stayed it would only hurt you as well as her in the morning, but as fate would have it you couldn’t do the right thing.

You swallowed hard, heart racing in your chest as you tried to avoid her gaze. You knew what she meant, all she had to do was say the words and you would gladly go home with her, and vice versa.

“You should probably leave,” you found yourself whispering, your words far too honest for your own good. You wanted to run, to escape the pull she had over you, but instead you found yourself in the back of an uber tangled up with the Swiss, on the way to her apartment.

Sun on your skin, 6 a.m.

And I been watchin' you sleep

And honey, I'm so afraid you're gonna wake up and say

That you should probably leave

The next morning you roll over to see Lia’s back turned to you, sun glistening on her skin. You start thinking about how maybe this time was different, and that you two would actually get together. You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts, at the sight of Lia stirring.

'Cause I know you and you know me

And we both know where this is gonna lead

I want you to stay, but you'll probably say

That you should probably leave

You glance at her again, eyes tracing the lines of her body, the way she looks so peaceful in the early morning light. You almost want to reach out, tell her you’re done with the back and forth, that you want this to be something real.

But as always, the fear of realizing that maybe neither of you are ready for what it would take to make this work,holds you back. It always does.

Slowly, you slip out of bed, gathering your clothes as quietly as you can. You need to leave before it happens again, before you fall back into this pattern that you know can’t go anywhere.

But as you’re about to slip out the door, her voice stops you.

“Leaving already?” Her tone is gentle, a little playful, but there’s a hint of something else there too, a quiet sadness, maybe?

You turn to face her, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. And for a moment, you both just stand there, silently understanding the inevitable.

You swallow, fighting the words that are on the tip of your tongue. I should probably leave.

But instead, you find yourself just staring at her, unable to move. Unable to walk away like every other time…

#woso x reader #lia wälti x reader #lia walti x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #woso fic #woso community #Spotify

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herrmannhalsteadproduction · 15 hours ago

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May I request different first meeting + meet funny? 😘💕💕💕💕

Cos we all deserved some fluff and floof in life heheheehe

Yes, you can! I hope you enjoy this and it makes up for the sad one!

Here be fluff, a different first meeting, and some laughs:

Donut Day was sacred.

This fact had been drilled into Tommy from his very first shift at Harbor. If it was your turn in the rotation, you came to work, donuts in hand. Or else.

Tommy was no fool. He'd never let himself find out what 'or else' was.

When it was his turn for Donut Day, he left two hours early so he could hit Pete's Donuts—arguably the best donut shop in all of L.A.—grab a selection of everyone's favorites, which he had memorized, thank you very much, and still make it to work on time.

Tommy was the king of Donut Day.

Except today—

Today, some guy—some punk kid—was going to cost him his crown.

To be fair, it wasn't entirely the kid's fault. Working an afternoon shift meant stopping by Pete's after the morning rush, but before the lunchtime restock was complete. Tommy thought he'd arrived early enough, but the shelves were looking pretty sad.

Which would have been fine if this guy hadn't made it through the door before him, securing a place in line ahead of Tommy, and seemed intent on buying out the place.

Nevermind, it was all this guy's fault.

Him and his...legs...that seemed to go on for days.

"I'll take that last Oreo one, please," the guy said and Tommy huffed under his breath.

Sorry about your luck, Jenkins. You're going to have to live with your second favorite—

"And that last strawberry shortcake one, too."

"Seriously?" Tommy whispered to himself, cursing his bad luck.

"Ooh, and that last triple chocolate one—"

"Oh, come on!" Tommy exclaimed, the words bursting out before he could stop them. Because really? Even the triple chocolate?

His favorite?

"Dude, what is your problem?" The guy whirled around to glare at him and Tommy felt it like a punch to the chest.

Because the donut thief was gorgeous.

Forget the legs for days and the muscled back and the equally muscled chest and arms—good god, the arms—how could Tommy focus on any of that when he was faced with the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen.

And pouty lips on a mouth that had dropped open ever so slightly as the Donut Day interloper stared back at him.

"My problem?" Tommy asked, tearing his eyes away from the pouty lips back to the beautiful blue eyes that had gone wider when he took a little step closer. "My problem is you're going to get me fired if you keep buying up all the donuts. Or at least have a whole crew of hungry firefighters calling for my head."

He sent the donut thief a rueful smile. "Think you can help a guy out?"

"Y-you're a firefighter?" The guy said and if Tommy thought he was gorgeous before, he'd clearly misunderstood the meaning of the word. The grin that stretched across his face lit it up so brightly, Tommy suddenly understood why moths made such poor life choices.

He took another step closer. Drawn in by the light.

"I'm a firefighter too," the guy exclaimed. His face fell suddenly as he looked between Tommy and the display case of donuts. "It's my turn to bring the donuts too and if I don't bring the right ones, I'll never hear the end of it. Chim really likes those Oreo ones and Hen loves the strawberry shortcake—"

"Wait." Tommy laughed, shaking his head. "Are you at the 118?"

Of all the coincidences...

"Y-yeah, how did you know?" Blue Eyes grinned and this time he took a step closer.

"I used to work there, with Howie and Hen and everyone," Tommy said. He stuck a hand out. "Tommy Kinard."

"B—uh, Evan," Blue Eyes—Evan said. "Evan Buckley."

"Well, Evan Buckley, let's see if we can figure out a donut arrangement that works for everyone, yeah?"

The next ten minutes were spent playfully haggling over their choices—even going so far as to ask the very patient counter employee to cut a few in half. Tommy was pretty sure she'd been Instagramming most of their exchange so he didn't feel too bad about it.

Finally, donut boxes in hand, he and Evan left the shop, both lingering for a moment out on the sidewalk.

Tommy didn't miss the way Evan's eyes lingered over him at the same time. Zeroing in on his chin for some reason.

"That was some pretty good trouble-shooting in there," Tommy began, shaking Evan out of his chin-centric thoughts.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Evan said, shaking his head with a little laugh. "I'm going to get roasted over those donut halves though."

"You won't be the only one," Tommy said. He could already hear Jenkins' voice ranting at him over it.

But more importantly, he could feel the seconds ticking away before he and Evan would be going their separate ways and Tommy—for some reason—really didn't want to let that happen.

"You should give me your number," he heard himself saying. "So we can commiserate later."

"O-okay," Evan said, already digging his phone out of his pocket. "A-and you should give me yours. Tell me how you like the lime and jalapeno donut."

The one he'd talked Tommy into trying even though Tommy had zero tolerance for spice.

He was somehow already a complete pushover for this man.

They entered their numbers into each other's phones and handed them back with little grins.

"I should get going," Tommy said reluctantly, not able to put off the inevitable any longer. "It was really nice to meet you, Evan."

"You too," Evan said. "Tommy."

With one last smile, one last look, Tommy headed down the sidewalk to his truck, Evan leaving in the opposite direction.

Tommy turned back for one last last look and almost blushed at getting caught by Evan as he did it—before he realized Evan caught him because he was doing the exact same thing.

And Evan was definitely blushing.

Well.

How about that?

Despite his little donut thief adventure, Tommy still made it to work in plenty of time. He dropped the donuts off in the kitchen and stepped back as the hungry masses fell upon the boxes.

"Kinard!" Jenkins yelled out a few seconds later. He emerged from the huddle holding up half of an Oreo donut. "What the hell, man?"

"It was for a good cause," Tommy said. "Trust me."

Jenkins kept cranking at him, but Tommy was already tuning him out, attention caught by a new text on his phone.

A message from Evan.

Tommy opened it, chuckling over the picture of a very disgruntled looking Howie and Hen.

They're questioning our choices, the text read.

We'll just have to do better next time, Tommy wrote back.

He chewed on his lip, watching as three bubbles blinked in and out on his screen until finally—

Same time next week?

Can't wait, Tommy replied quickly.

He was going to be doing some heavy editing of the donut rotation for the foreseeable future and everyone was just going to have to deal with it...

Because Tommy had a donut thief to woo.

(This was from this ask game!)

#ask game #asks answered #fun asks #writing exercises #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #tevan fic #kinley #kinley fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #buck x tommy #different first meeting #fluff #humor

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taintandviolent · 3 days ago

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remember me? ; Eric Draven x Reader

summary: Do you believe in fate? Sure. Did you ever think you'd see him again? No. You were childhood friends with Eric, and after a decade, you finally find him again.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.1K | female reader, smut, kissing/making out, dry humping in a public place (club bathroom), canon divergence/alternate universe (technically), neck kissing, Eric being kinda' clingy.

a/n: requested by my lil' soulless anon! sorry it's a shorter fic, but I hope you enjoy it! banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Sure, you believed in fate. You believed in that invisible red string that connected soulmates throughout their lives. You believed in destiny, and all that other mystical, magical unseen shit in life. Did it affect you everyday? No, not really.

Until it does. Until you recognize your childhood friend in the middle of this random club. He hadn’t been just your childhood friend. Truthfully, he was really the first boy you’d ever loved. He’d set your little teenager heart aflame, but because you two were such good friends, you’d never done anything about it.

And there he was, in this random club, walking right past you. You know it’s him. You’d recognize that face, those eyes, anywhere in the world. You’re almost too stunned to speak, but somehow, you manage his name.

“Eric?”

He does a half-turn, not fully invested in finding out who is calling his name. He was tall and lanky back then, but he’s somehow even taller now, and has filled out with slim, toned muscles. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, waiting for whatever it is you’re going to say.

“Eric, hi…” You breathe, not loud enough to be heard over the thumping music. He looks down at you, and you wait, wait for the moment of recognition to flash across his gaze. It doesn’t come. You laugh and look down at yourself, remembering that it’s been ten years. Maybe he doesn’t recognize you as you look now. Maybe he’s forgotten altogether. Or maybe he doesn’t want to remember.

You reach out to touch his exposed forearm, which is heavily covered in tattoos. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Why should I? Who are you?”

You hold up a finger and pull your phone from the confines of your skin-tight, dark jeans. You’re scrolling for a minute before you hold up a picture. It’s of the two of you, much younger. His arm is slung around your shoulders and you hold onto his torso like it’s keeping you on the ground.

There it is. There’s that look. Even in the neon lighting of the club, you can see his pupils dilate.

“Y/N…..?”

You nod.

His arms are suddenly around your back, pulling you into a hug. He’s warm, sweaty – probably from dancing, and smells faintly of cologne, cigarettes and some kind of liquor. With your face smashed against his firm, toned torso, you ease into the hug, smiling. Like he’s revelling in the feeling of having you, knowing you again, he sways you back and forth, your tiny frame no match for his strength.

You stay like this for a bit, until the tempo of the song changes and he’s pulling you away from his chest to look at you – really look at you.

“You look different,” he says. You shrug and nod, agreeing that you do. Back in high school, you were more… normal looking. Brighter, maybe. Colorful. But now, from your hair to your clothes, you were black as night. Your eyes were heavily lined, your lips dark. Tattoos littered your body, much like his.

“It’s…” he swallows. “It works for you.”

He smiles. It’s the same boyish, shy smile he had as a kid. You smile back, feeling the butterflies in your stomach up the ante, like they’re trying to burst out through your flesh.

So again, did you believe in fate? Sure. Did you think it was going to land you in the arms of Eric Draven, pressed up against the door of a bathroom wall while his tongue violated your mouth? No. Not, really.

But, here you are. Breathless and sweaty as his hand trails down the length of your waist, hitching over the edge of your jeans. You crane to the side as Eric breaks free, peppering sloppy, drunk kisses along the column of your neck.

“I thought I lost you,” he says in a low voice. It’s filled with desperation, with emotion, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“I know, Eric, I’m sorry… I’m sorry I left.”

He breathes heavily into your neck, sending an explosive shiver down your spine. You wonder if he’s always felt this way, but don’t dare ask, in fear of it being just a drunk fling. His hands trail underneath your ass and before you can process it, he’s lifting you up into his arms and pressing you against the wall. His hips urge into yours, and you feel the telltale resistance of an erection pressing back against you.

“I really am sorry,” you repeat, feeling guilty. You had no choice as a kid, to move away, but you’d left without saying goodbye. One day, you just weren’t there. And you felt like Eric took that personally.

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, just underneath your ear. “Just don’t leave again.”

He urges himself up into you again, paired with a little desperately hungry grunt. Your lids drift down, feeling the warm wave of ecstasy wash over your senses.

Eric thrusts his hips up again, and this time, doesn’t stop, finding a rhythm. Between you, there’s a wet spot on his dark jeans where the precum is leaking out as he insistently grinds against you. Your underwear are soaked, the feeling of his stiff cock through his jeans hitting the right spot with every movement. You’re holding onto him for dear life, both because he’s supporting you, and because you’re actually afraid to let go. Whether or not this was a drunken tryst or something that had been building up for decades, your inner teenager was satisfied. The red string was wrapped tight around your throat and you had no intention of untying it.

“Don’t… don’t stop, Eric.”

He doesn’t, and only holds you tighter, one hand splayed out on the back of your head. The other arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you strongly in place. He rests his damp forehead against yours, his breath washing over your face. His expression is a perfect image of debauchery; slack-jawed, pupils lust-blown, skin glistening with sweat.

“Fuck,” you yelp, digging your nails into his neck.

You feel the coil wrapping tight in your abdomen, and as you squeeze your eyes shut tight, you feel Eric lose his rhythm. His body seizes up, hands digging into you as tight as he can. Euphoria washes over you as Eric’s hips jerk one final time, the bulge grinding against your clothed, damp center. Eric holds you tight as he comes, thrusting his hips languidly up into you. You shudder against him as your own cunt spasms, clenching around nothing.

“You’ll stay?” His breath is heavy, and hot.

You swallow, wet your dry throat and nod. “I’ll stay. I’ll even give you my phone number this time.”

#eric draven #the crow 2024 #eric draven x you #eric draven x reader #the crow x you #the crow x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut #x reader #female reader #myfics #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård #the crow #reader insert #x you

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seitmai · 1 day ago

Text

You were certain Tyler wouldn’t be mean about your feelings or make you feel bad, but you were equally certain you weren’t his type. You’d met a fair amount of guys that looked as good as him, and not a single one of them was ever interested in you. You weren’t ashamed of your body, but you weren’t exactly comfortable being the only overweight person in your friend group.

🥺🥺🥺

He noticed you still hadn't met his gaze, a fact he chose to ignore. Instead, he opted to use the moment to his advantage, blue-green eyes sweeping over your form, noting the exposed, soft flesh of your legs. He had twin urges to sink his teeth into your thighs and feel them wrap around his head until he couldn't breathe. He quickly shook the image out of his head before those impure thoughts could make their way below the belt line.

The definition of ogling 🤭

You blanched further. "It's-it's a physiological response--" "To you," he added firmly. "A physiological response to you."

Just a physiological response, sure 🤭

"No--that you want me." Tyler grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them between his. "I am completely certain I want you in every meaning of the word. I would, however, like to start with getting to know you...biblically." You let out a breathy laugh. "I would ask if you're drunk, but I already know the answer." "Sober as a priest, darlin'." "So you're just insane then?"

Urgh I just loved this exchange 😍

He grinned, but you could see a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark room. "I, uh--I've read a lot of those books you told me about." "Books I've read?" He nodded. "I had no idea." "Well I knew how much you liked them and I was curious...so I started reading one and I couldn't stop. They actually gave me some ideas for things I'd like to do with you." "I'm not quite sure why that's so hot, but it is. So if you could please kiss me again, I'd appreciate it."

What a declaration of love 🥰 + extremely hot 🤤

His nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists. "No one has the right to make negative comments on your appearance. No one, including you. I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel like you weren't a fucking prize, but that's their loss. If you don't feel comfortable showing me your body yet, then I won't push you, but I need you to know I want to see every inch of you...so I can worship every inch of you."

"I wanted a better angle." With that, he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove into your pussy.

🤭🤭🤭

After several minutes, your thighs began to burn and your motions slowed. Tyler noticed your energy waning, so he pulled you down flush against his chest and kissed you deeply. He thrust up into you a couple times before flipping you onto your back. "Let me take care of you," he murmured as he began to slowly thrust into you.

He is so sweet and hot at the same time 🥰😮‍💨

"Just appreciating how sweet you are." He smiled. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't think I was just gonna leave you here with this mess." His tone was light, though slightly chastising. "I've never had someone take care of me after sex," you admitted, a soft blush gracing your cheeks.

I just wanna give her a hug 🥺

As you closed your eyes, your foolish brain began to overthink every moment of the night. You wondered if he would regret his choices in the light of day, or if he would want to actually have a real relationship with you. Tyler felt the tension in your body and his grip on you tightened. "Turn your brain off, princess." You inhaled sharply before letting out a soft chuckle. "How'd you know?" "I know you. I can practically hear your brain overthinking," he teased. "Whatever your anxiety says is wrong. I'm in this for the long haul, okay?"

He truly is perfect 🥹

He smiled and handed them to you, but when you stepped closer, you saw the marks on his biceps--crescent moon shaped scabs. "Oh my god," you gasped. "Did I do that?" Tyler's eyes followed your line of sight. "It's not a big deal, princess. They're badges of honor, as all marks from you are." You looked down to where his fingers grazed your skin and realized he was right. A light blush crept up to your cheeks. "I have to admit...I quite like the idea of you marking me." Tyler grinned wolfishly. "Now you know how I feel."

They match each other's freak 😌🤭

Lily made eye contact with you, noting your expression, your's and Tyler's wet hair, and the hold he still had on your hand. A knowing grin spread across her face. "I think I know exactly who used all the hot water."

Hahah I love that Lily just instantly knows 😅

Destination: Motel Feelings

Pairing: Tyler Owens x plus size!reader

Summary: Two friends. One bed. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: it’s just a whole lot of smut, with a droplet of fluff. Cursing, use of pet names, self-esteem/body image issues. Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), pretty fluffy sex overall.

“At least this motel is cleaner than the last one,” you mumbled as you entered the main lobby.

The motel was small, as most were in bumbfuck, Oklahoma, but it would have to do for the night.

“Who’s bunking with me this round?” Boone asked.

“Dexter’s with you. Dani and Lily are sharing, and then it’s me and Tyler,” you answered.

Since the six of you traveled together regularly, you’d made it a point to rotate sleeping arrangements to make it fair. This week was your week to bunk with Tyler. You always hated when it was just you and him, not because of anything he did, but because of how awkward you felt the entire time.

It wasn’t your fault he was gorgeous and charming and funny and smart…the combination of which made you want him with an unhealthy desperation. He was your favorite person to be around, but never alone. You needed a buffer to keep you from being incredibly awkward, or gods forbid, telling him how you felt.

You'd long since accepted the curves that came with puberty, curves that had only grown as you'd gotten older. Not a single part of you was what you would deem small, other than perhaps your height. You had large boobs and the back pain to accompany them, along with hips and an ass you were convinced could stop traffic. Your stomach had long been your biggest hurdle--and your main point of self-consciousness. Suffice it to say you were soft...and Tyler was very much not.

"You don't sound excited to be sharing a room with me, darlin'," Tyler teased lightly from behind you.

You chuckled in response. "I think I'd sell my kidney to stay in a hotel room without any of you for a week."

The rest of the team laughed while Boone and Dexter stepped up to the counter to check-in. Dani went next, grabbing room keys for her and Lily. The four of them went upstairs to throw their bags down, with a promise to be back in the lobby in 10 minutes for dinner.

You and Tyler smiled at the older woman behind the counter as you gave your name to check-in. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at her computer screen.

"Is everything alright?" Tyler asked gently.

"Well, it seems there was a bit of a mix up," she began. "We actually only have one room available."

"That's fine," you reasoned. "We only need one."

The woman nodded, but her expression still looked mildly uncomfortable. "It's--uh--it's a single."

You froze, contemplating the meaning of her words.

"Is there a couch?" Tyler asked, saving you from the discomfort.

She nodded, a look of relief crossing her face. "There is!"

"Then we'll take it," Tyler said with a smile.

A few minutes later, the two of you had your keys and were on the way upstairs to your room. You unlocked the door and barked out a laugh as you took in the space.

Tyler stepped in behind you and let out a low groan. "That's the couch?"

You laughed harder. "I didn't know they made couches that small. It's comical."

Tyler sighed and tossed his bag onto the freakishly small couch. "It's only for a night, right?"

You winced slightly. "At least two...possibly three."

"Shit," he mumbled.

"Ty, I'm not making you sleep on that tiny thing. You're over 6 feet tall...I don't even think you'll fit."

You both turned your attention to the bed on the other side of the room. Somehow, the queen sized bed looked dauntingly small to you.

"I'll, uh, take the couch," you offered.

"This thing looks like it's older than we are," Tyler muttered. "I wouldn't want my worst enemy sleeping on this thing, let alone you."

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely a text from Boone or Lily reminding you about dinner. "We'll figure it out after dinner. I'm starving."

Tyler nodded his agreement and followed you back down to the lobby where the rest of the team was waiting.

**********

By the time dinner was over and you'd said goodnight to the rest of the team, you'd nearly forgotten the predicament awaiting you in your room. Reality smacked you in the face the moment you opened the door and stepped back into the small space, a deep sigh settling in your chest.

"Why don't you get a shower first and I'll figure out how to make this work," Tyler said gently.

You just nodded, not wanting to consider the most logical solution to this particular issue. You grabbed your bag and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You made quick work of your shower and nighttime preparations, slipping on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of very short shorts.

You stared in the mirror for a moment, lost in a wave of self-consciousness. Every dimple in your thighs was visible, the soft flesh jiggling with your movements. You'd forgotten to throw a pair of pj pants in your bag before leaving home this time, so the shorts were all you had. You sighed, knowing it wasn't gonna get any better than it currently was, so you grabbed your bag and went back out into the room.

Tyler was lying on the floor, a singular blanket and pillow his only form of bedding.

A light laugh accompanied your words as you took in the sight before you. "What the heck are you doing?"

Tyler looked up with an uncomfortable shrug. "Sleeping on the floor. What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're insane," you said lightly. "I don't even want to know how disgusting these floors are...I would much rather sleep on the couch than let you sleep on the floor all night."

"Having sat on the couch already, I can promise you the floor is more comfortable."

You scoffed. "Impossible." You crossed the room and dropped onto the couch with an oomph. "Jesus--this thing is a rock."

Tyler laughed at your obvious discomfort. "I told you. There's no way I'm letting you sleep on that thing. At least one of us needs to get a good night's sleep."

"So why don't you sleep on the bed and I'll sleep on the floor."

Tyler glared at you. "Not happening, sweetheart. My mama raised me better than that."

You rolled your eyes. "No offense, Tyler, but I think you're a little too old to sleep on the floor these days. You're gonna wake up with a slipped disk and a hernia."

His laughter brought a smile to your face. "I'm not that old, (Y/N)."

"Well I'm definitely that old--and I'm a year younger than you."

He smirked as he pulled himself off the floor. "You're taking the bed, you muppet."

Your jaw dropped, a choked laugh escaping your throat. "Did you just call me a muppet?"

"Yes I did and I don't regret it." He grabbed his bag and rushed past you to get to the bathroom before you could find something to throw at him.

"Muppet," you murmured under your breath. "He's the muppet."

"I heard that!"

"Get in the shower, Owens!" you laughingly yelled back.

You unceremoniously dropped onto the bed, a sigh breezing past your lips. You were tired and the thought of having the entire bed to yourself was a pleasant one...until you sat up and looked at the makeshift bed on the cold, hard, unforgiving floor.

You knew there was no way you could let him sleep on the floor. While the comments about his age had been a joke, you were both in your 30s now and sleeping wrong could genuinely fuck you up for days. You absolutely couldn't make him sleep on the damn floor.

You glanced at the empty bed beside you and groaned. Sharing a bed with Tyler ranked very highly on your list of most horrifying situations. There was a high probability you would actually combust from embarrassment alone. What if you did something weird in your sleep? What if you kicked him or pushed him out of the bed? What if you accidentally tried to cuddle with him? You would die of mortification.

While you were contemplating all the ways this could go horribly wrong, Tyler came out from the bathroom clad in his boxers and a scandalously tight white t-shirt. You bit your lip, looking away from him hurriedly. You could feel the blush heating your cheeks and you prayed he wouldn't notice.

You cleared your throat quietly before gesturing to the bed beside you. You couldn't quite meet his gaze as you said, "You're not sleeping on the floor, so you might as well take half the bed."

Tyler raised his eyebrows even though he knew you weren't looking his way. "You sure, sweetheart? I don't wanna impose."

You shrugged. "We're adults, Ty. I think we can manage to share a bed for a couple nights without making it weird."

"We can put a pillow in the middle if you want," he offered sweetly.

"The bed is a little small for that--besides, we only have three pillows on this damn bed and I'm using two of them."

Tyler chuckled as he scooped up his pillow from the floor and placed it beside yours. He lowered himself onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip with his weight. "Why do you get two pillows and I only get one?"

"Because you like to sleep as flat as possible like some sort of psychopath."

Tyler laughed heartily, his grin widening as he took in the small smile gracing your face. "A psychopath?"

"Retaliation for calling me a muppet."

He laughed again, smacking you gently with his pillow. The action earned him a glare, followed by a slow, teasing smirk. His mind went blank as you finally made eye contact with him. Your pupils swallowed up nearly all of your irises thanks to the dim lighting and the singular lamp on his bedside table cast the prettiest glow on your skin. The only thought that crossed his mind was the word 'radiant'.

He swallowed thickly, forcing the word back down his throat before he could blurt it out. You'd never once given him an indication you felt the same way he did, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

"Alright, weirdo. Turn off that light so we can go to sleep," you murmured, breaking the spell of the moment.

Tyler did as you asked before settling more comfortably into the bed. You laid on your side, back to him, and he felt the urge to run his fingers through your hair--yet another urge he immediately suppressed.

He rolled over so his back was to you and let out a soft sigh. He had to admit he was tired, but being in the same bed with you and not touching you was almost painful, enough so that he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep.

"Goodnight, Tyler," you whispered softly, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, even though you desperately wanted to look at him one more time.

"Goodnight, (Y/N/N)." He paused. "Just do me one favor."

"Hmm?"

"Keep your icy ass feet away from me."

You laughed, swinging your leg back to plant your foot against his bare calf. He swore and nearly jumped at the sensation.

"They're like icicles!"

You giggled. "They're not that bad you drama queen."

He rolled over enough to glare at your back. "That's drama king to you."

You shot a matching glare over your shoulder before you both burst out laughing. You swatted his arm affectionately, trying not to marvel at the firm muscles beneath your palm. "Go to sleep."

He smiled as he faced away again. "Goodnight, icicle."

He heard your breathy laugh as you murmured, "Goodnight, drama king."

**********

The exhaustion must have kicked in at some point because you could barely remember falling asleep when you awoke in the middle of the night. It took you several moments to orient yourself, having forgotten where you were.

In those moments before lucidity settled in, you could feel a radiating heat at your back and you instinctively curled into it, pressing against something very firm.

Then you felt it--breath gently blowing against your neck, something heavy draped across your middle, and someone's very large body pressed against you from head to foot.

Tyler. His name slammed into your brain, pushing you firmly into wide-awake territory. You quickly realized it was his body wrapped around yours, his breath caressing your neck, his arm holding you tightly against him.

You laid there, utterly frozen, as you contemplated what to do. His grip on you was surprisingly firm, preventing you from simply rolling out of his grasp, and there wasn't much room on your side of the bed to escape to anyway.

Somewhere in Tyler's subconscious, he must have felt the shift in your body and the urge to ease your tension was one he couldn't ignore even in his dreaming state.

His grip on you tightened even more, pulling you back against his chest. He pressed forward into you and you shifted slightly in an attempt to distance yourself. In doing so, you wiggled your ass right against his semi-hard member, eliciting a soft groan from Tyler's lips.

With absolute horror, you felt him start to harden even more, the urge to melt into the floor growing with each moment. You didn't want him to wake up and be mortified, so you tried to move away from him without waking him.

Your movements stirred him into awareness, the current situation coming into focus as he awoke. You felt the moment Tyler woke up fully, his body going rigid against yours before rolling away from you with shocking speed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he muttered in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean--shit. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. "You were sleeping--it happens."

He groaned and rubbed his face wearily. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His voice was low and pained, the tone making your chest ache. "You didn't. It's alright." You reached out a hand to brush against his arm. "Hey...look at me."

His body remained tense beneath your fingers. "Ty," you urged.

He finally turned to look at you and he found himself surprised at your open expression. You didn't look angry or upset, in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say you looked intrigued.

"No more apologizing," you ordered when he opened his mouth with a clear apology on his lips. "I didn't mind."

Your eyes widened as you realized what you'd just admitted, a bright pink blush quickly deepening your skin.

Emboldened by your words, Tyler leaned towards you slightly. "Which part? Me holding you? Or my obvious physical attraction to you?"

You exhaled sharply. "Your what?"

Tyler's eyes scanned your face and he was certain he saw a whole lot more than intrigue written there--he'd even say it was desire. "Oh come on princess. You felt my reaction..."

You blanched further. "It's-it's a physiological response--"

"To you," he added firmly. "A physiological response to you."

Your mouth opened and closed in an embarrassing representation of a fish before you finally pushed out one word, "Me?"

Tyler smirked, looking around the room. "You're the only one here, sweetheart."

You looked down at yourself before looking back at him, repeating the motion twice before you sputtered, "You-you. No--you...no way. You can't."

He smiled at your fumbled words. "I can and I do. I've never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do."

"Physically?" you gasped in disbelief.

He chuckled. "Physically and emotionally, actually."

Your draw dropped further. "What?"

Tyler stood up and moved to your side of the bed, kneeling down in front of you. "Let me make this very explicitly clear, (Y/N). Yes, I find you attractive. Yes, I want you. Yes, I think you're incredible. No, I don't just wanna fuck. Yes, I want to be with you."

You stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Am I dreaming?" you whispered.

He shook his head and gently brushed a thumb against your outer thigh. "We're both wide awake, baby."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "That we're awake? Very."

"No--that you want me."

Tyler grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them between his. "I am completely certain I want you in every meaning of the word. I would, however, like to start with getting to know you...biblically."

You let out a breathy laugh. "I would ask if you're drunk, but I already know the answer."

"Sober as a priest, darlin'."

"So you're just insane then?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I've never felt more sane in my life. I've wanted you since the day you walked into my life, (Y/N). Only way I'm walking away now is if you tell me you don't feel the same."

You stared at him, a look of confused wonder on your face. Never did you think Tyler Owens would be saying this to you...but here he was, literally on his knees, telling you everything you've wanted to hear for so long.

"Of course I feel the same," you said softly. "How could I not?"

He smiled as he slowly pulled himself up, but instead of rising to his full height, he began to slowly crawl onto the bed, forcing you to lay down to accommodate him.

He stopped once you were fully trapped beneath him, lips so close you could feel his warm breath. "Stop me if this isn't what you want," he whispered.

You lifted your head to close the gap between you, lips pressing firmly against his. He groaned into the kiss, immediately deepening it.

You slid your tongue along the seam of his lips, silently begging him to let you in. He obliged, tongue meeting yours with fervent passion. He tangled his fingers into your hair with one hand, while the other slipped under your shirt to gently rub at your hips.

You were inclined to allow him to kiss you until you passed out from lack of oxygen, but he finally pulled away just enough to suck down a lungful of air.

"If I'd known kissing you felt like that, I would have done this years ago," he murmured.

You chuckled breathlessly. "I haven't been kissed like that in a long time--perhaps ever, if I'm honest."

"Then allow me to make a promise. I will kiss you like that every day for the rest of your life."

You gasped. "That's...a rather intense commitment, Ty."

"Five years, (Y/N)."

"I'm gonna die in five years?"

Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "God I hope not. I meant, I have wanted to do that for five years...so no, it's not as big of a commitment as you'd think. I'd think of it more as an honor."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "Who taught you to talk like that?"

He grinned, but you could see a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark room. "I, uh--I've read a lot of those books you told me about."

"Books I've read?"

He nodded.

"I had no idea."

"Well I knew how much you liked them and I was curious...so I started reading one and I couldn't stop. They actually gave me some ideas for things I'd like to do with you."

"I'm not quite sure why that's so hot, but it is. So if you could please kiss me again, I'd appreciate it."

Tyler grinned, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss and pulled him even closer to you, desperate to feel as much of him as you could.

He felt the same way, right hand sliding farther up your side under your shirt, exposing more of your flesh as he went.

His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and he groaned into the kiss as he realized it meant you'd forgone a bra. He moved his hand to properly cup your breast, kneading the supple flesh before brushing a thumb over your peaked nipple.

You gasped softly and you reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it off. He allowed you to remove it and proceeded to reach for yours. A wave of self-consciousness hit you and you grabbed his wrists to stop him from lifting it further.

"Maybe we keep it on?" you said softly.

He looked confused. "Why?"

You didn't answer right away. You didn't want to admit to the feelings of self-doubt or acknowledge your body image issues, but you also didn't like the idea of being fully exposed to him. Especially now that you could see exactly how well-sculpted he was.

His eyes scanned your face, looking for an answer to his question. You weren't making eye contact with him, but you weren't telling him to stop, which only added to his growing confusion.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No!" you said quickly. "I just--I don't..."

The confusion on his face was almost endearing. He wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you...and he couldn't understand why you didn't want him to.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he whispered.

You shook your head immediately. "It's not you at all, Tyler. It's me."

He frowned. "I don't understand."

You let out an exasperated sigh, realizing you really would have to be straightforward. "I don't really like the way I look without clothes on." Your voice was low, barely a whisper, but he still heard every word.

Realization hit him like an EF5 tornado. "Who made you feel that way?"

The harsh tone of his voice surprised you, so much so that you finally made eye contact with him again. His eyes were dark and there was a hint of simmering anger in them.

When you didn't answer, he asked again. "Who made you feel like you weren't beautiful?"

You exhaled slowly. "Do you want a list?"

Your lips parted in surprise as you let his words sink in. There was no hint of deception in his voice or his gaze, and it gave you a surge of much-needed confidence.

You sat up just enough to pull your shirt up and over your head before letting your back hit the sheets. Your pulse was racing, breathing ragged, and you couldn't quite make yourself look at him.

Tyler was silent as he beheld your exposed torso, gaze sweeping appreciatively over every dip and curve, mentally marking every spot he wanted to spend extra time on.

He finally looked back up at your face, noticing instantly that your eyes were trained on the ceiling. "Baby. Look at me."

The dominance in his voice, while gentle, left no room for argument. You met his adoring gaze and the last dredges of worry left your body, taking the tension along with it.

He watched your body relax and a small smile formed on his lips. He leaned forward so he hovered over you once more and murmured, "You are absolutely exquisite."

With those four words, you melted, becoming a pliable instrument to his will. He kissed you softly before beginning his descent down your jaw, your neck, to your collarbone, and finally to your breasts.

"I think I'll stop here for a while," he mumbled against your soft skin.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you slid your fingers into his hair. He was true to his word, not a single inch of skin left untouched by either his mouth or hands.

The growing need for him was starting to become more prominent, the slick gathering between your thighs almost to an embarrassing level. As much as you were enjoying the attention he paid to your breasts, you needed to feel him elsewhere.

Before you could voice the need, Tyler continued his descent down your stomach, kissing every little mark he found. He reveled in the feeling of softness beneath his hands, wanting nothing more than to touch your body forever.

"Tyler," you whimpered, need evident in your voice.

He chuckled against your skin. "So impatient."

You squirmed slightly, desperate for some form of friction, a need he, himself, was also feeling. He hooked his fingers in the sides of your shorts and you lifted your hips to allow him to remove the last scrap of fabric from your body.

The sound that slipped past Tyler's lips could only be described as a growl. "That tiny bit of fabric was all that was between me and all of this?"

You nodded, unable to speak as he slipped a finger between your folds to collect your slick. He brought the finger to his mouth and sucked it clean, moaning softly at your taste.

"I knew you would be delicious."

He dropped to his knees off the edge of the bed, then grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him. A squeal of surprise escaped you, which brought a smirk to his lips.

"I wanted a better angle." With that, he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove into your pussy.

Your moans immediately drowned out any of the other sounds in the room, and even the ambient noise from outside. Tyler was incredibly skilled with his mouth, even more than you'd always imagined.

His tongue swirled your clit as he slipped one finger into you, gently curling it against the soft, spongey spot that made your toes curl. Your hips jacked off the bed in response, causing him to drape an arm across your abdomen to hold you in place.

"More, Tyler," you begged.

He grinned and added another finger, increasing the pace of the thrusts and his ministrations on your clit. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you neared your peak, desperate pleas to not stop mixed with your moans of pleasure.

Tyler, of course, did not stop. He wanted you to cum as much as you wanted it. He could feel how close you were, your pussy was squeezing his fingers so tightly it was becoming harder to move them. You kept trying to move your hips to grind on his face for even more friction, but he held you in place.

With a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, waves of pleasure filling your senses. Tyler didn't stop until your moans turned to soft whimpers and you squirmed away from him.

He crawled back onto the bed, watching you as you came down from your high. He was certain you'd never looked more beautiful. When he said as much, you blushed deeply and averted your gaze.

"Oh come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now."

You giggled lightly and looked at him again. He looked so damn good it was nearly offensive. You reached for his boxers with a murmured, "May I?"

Instead of answering, he stood up and removed his boxers quickly. You bit your lip at the sight of his very large member. The man gave off big dick energy, so you really shouldn't have been surprised.

You licked your lips absentmindedly as you looked at him. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and flicked your gaze to his face. He was surprised by the hunger evident in your expression and he suddenly felt his need for you intensify.

He took a step towards you as if to crawl back on top of you, but you shook your head. "Lie down," you commanded softly.

The look in your eyes had him obeying immediately. As soon as he'd laid down, you climbed onto him, straddling his thigh. Your soft hand wrapped firmly around his cock and you began to stroke him slowly, earning soft sounds of enjoyment from him.

You smirked as you took in his expression, pleasure evident on his face. You lowered yourself, taking him into your mouth with a soft moan of your own. His hand was instantly in your hair, grip tightening as you started moving.

You swirled your tongue around his head before sucking tightly. You relaxed your throat and continued to take more of him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Anything your mouth couldn't take, your hand pleasured.

His moans spurred you on and guided your motions. You picked up on the subtle things that seemed to provide him more pleasure and you focused on those. Your own enjoyment was evident in the moans you made around his cock and the way you occasionally rubbed your pussy against his thigh, desperately seeking some relief.

Tyler could feel his orgasm fast approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum yet. With a strong tug on your hair, he lifted your head off his cock. You whined in annoyance, a small pout on your face when you met his gaze.

"Sorry, baby, but I'd like this to last."

Your expression softened and you shifted your body to straddle his hips. You leaned forward to kiss him deeply. He met your lips hungrily, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue delved into your mouth.

You gently brushed your pussy against his cock, eliciting needy moans from both of you.

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Tyler murmured.

"Me neither," you admitted. You sat back up, an odd expression he couldn't name on your face.

"You alright, sugar?"

You bit your lip. "Could I...could I ride you?"

A wide grin spread across Tyler's face. "'Course you can."

You weren't accustomed to being on top, but it was something you really wanted to try with him. You gripped his cock and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you took all of him.

Tyler's grip on your hips tightened, a low groan leaving his throat as he watched his cock disappear inside you. You shook slightly, so he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and whispered, "Just relax, baby. I've got you."

You nodded and took a deep breath, allowing your body time to adjust to his considerable size. You placed your hands against his chest, using them for leverage as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto his cock.

The sensation was incredible...and the control was utterly intoxicating. You started to move faster, spurred on by the way his fingers dug into your flesh and the sounds of pleasure escaping his parted lips.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured as he began to slowly thrust into you.

His movements were slow and calculated, leaving you utterly breathless. Your nails scrapped along his shoulders and back, moans slipping past your lips with each thrust. "Tyler..." you whimpered.

He nipped at your collarbone in response to his name, the sound coming from your lips was easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

He pulled himself up onto his knees, tugging both of your legs up to rest against his chest. The new position elevated your hips at just the right angle for each thrust to press firmly against your sweet spot.

The chorus of broken moans coming from you mixed with the sounds your mingled bodies made to create the most intoxicating symphony Tyler'd ever heard.

There was not a single thought in your head other than the overwhelming pleasure you were on the receiving end of. You were lost in it--in him. Your nails dug roughly into his biceps as you clung to him with all your strength.

Gasps of his name left you, along with desperate pleas to keep going. Tyler pushed past the pain in his arms as you drew blood, his sole focus on making sure you reached your peak. He watched your face contort in pleasure, chest heaving, eyes closed, moans dripping from your open mouth.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on his blue-green ones. The moment your eyes met, you fell apart with a fractured scream of his name. The muscles of your core clenched tightly around him, forcing him to a slower pace.

Tyler watched you in awe, utterly enraptured by the sheer magnitude of the moment. Your legs shook as he took them in his hands and gently lowered them back to the bed.

Your hands had fallen from his arms, but you now reached for him. "Ty."

He leaned forward, placing both his palms on the bed beside your head, caging you beneath him once again. His thrusts had slowed considerably, but you knew he needed his own release. You could see it in the tension lining his jaw and the desperation in his eyes.

You nipped his jaw affectionately, earning a low chuckle from him. "I want you to cum inside me," you murmured.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words. His pace immediately picked back up, now chasing his own release. "You feel incredible, baby."

You sighed sweetly, fingers touching his tanned skin and tangling in his hair. "So do you."

His moans mixed with pants of your name, and he dug one hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, clinging to you desperately. "I can't get enough of you. So perfect for me."

You moaned softly at his words, loving the praise coming from him. You could tell he was close as his thrusts became more erratic.

You pressed kisses to his jaw and the column of his throat before whispering, "Cum for me, Tyler. Please, baby, I need it."

Tyler groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside you. He moaned your name against your lips, thrusts slowing to nothing. He kissed your jaw before collapsing on top of you, heavy pants leaving his mouth.

You kissed the top of his head and rubbed your fingers soothingly over his back. You could feel some of the marks you'd left on his skin, a slight embarrassment sinking into you.

"You were incredible," he murmured against your skin. "So much better than I'd imagined...and I've imagined it a lot."

You giggled lightly at his admission. "I might have imagined it once or twice myself."

He lifted his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And? Did I meet your expectations?"

"No," you said honestly, a small smile on your face. You saw his smirk fade slightly as you moved closer. "You exceeded them."

The tension in his face eased to a genuine smile. He pressed his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that still managed to make your toes curl.

Tyler slowly lifted himself off you, softening cock sliding out of you along with your mixed spends. You let out a soft whimper, which earned you a sweet smile and a loving kiss.

"I'm coming right back, princess. Just wanna clean up."

You watched him walk away to the bathroom, leaving you to wonder if you should try and get up too. After all, you needed cleaned up just as badly as he did.

He saved you from having to make that decision when he came back moments later with a warm washcloth. Your expression softened considerably when you realized he'd brought it for you.

"What's that face for?" he asked softly.

"Just appreciating how sweet you are."

He smiled. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't think I was just gonna leave you here with this mess." His tone was light, though slightly chastising.

"I've never had someone take care of me after sex," you admitted, a soft blush gracing your cheeks.

Tyler looked surprised as he slowly began to clean you up. "Clearly you've been sleeping with the wrong men."

You chuckled softly, even as you winced from the over-stimulation between your legs. "Looks like I made the right choice this time."

Tyler made sure you were completely clean and dry before responding. "I think we both did."

Your eyes brightened with emotion and you reached for him in a silent plea. He tossed the rag behind him towards the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

He grabbed you firmly, pulling you into his chest. You curled up against him, head resting against the muscle of his pectoral. You felt him brush his fingers down your arm, the movement affectionate and possessive.

You kissed his chest, a small sigh leaving your lips as you settled in. You felt the exhaustion coming to claim you and you could tell by Tyler's even breathing that it was coming for him too.

Tyler felt the tension in your body and his grip on you tightened. "Turn your brain off, princess."

You inhaled sharply before letting out a soft chuckle. "How'd you know?"

"I know you. I can practically hear your brain overthinking," he teased. "Whatever your anxiety says is wrong. I'm in this for the long haul, okay?"

You exhaled heavily as if releasing all those negative thoughts. "I love you, Tyler," you whispered so softly he had to strain to hear.

His heart skipped a beat and a slow smile spread across his face. He nuzzled into your hair, his grip on your soft body tightening. "I love you too, princess."

The soft words of affection were the last you shared before falling asleep in each other's arms.

**********

The morning light shining in through the windows woke you, a groan of annoyance leaving you as you tried to block out the light.

Tyler's responding grumble sent shivers through your body, making you curl in closer to him. You felt his lips graze your forehead, as he said in a voice heavy with sleep, "Mornin', darlin'."

"Don't wanna," you groused.

Tyler chuckled lightly. "I know baby, but we gotta."

"Five more minutes."

He kissed your forehead again before untangling himself from you. "I'll give you ten. I'm gonna jump in the shower."

You whimpered as his warmth left you, but you quickly rolled over into the spot he'd just vacated. You sighed softly as you curled up, the residual heat from his body warming you.

He chuckled again and thought to himself that he could get used to this--waking up beside you. You looked even more beautiful in the morning light and he found himself excited to tell everyone he came across that you were his. He kissed you one last time before going to shower.

You heard the shower turn on and you debated the merits of joining him. You didn't want to get out of the warm bed, but you also knew you had to. A nice hot shower with the man of your dreams did sound rather enticing.

You groaned as you pulled yourself out of bed on slightly unstable legs. You slowly made your way to the bathroom, slipping in quietly. You could see Tyler's outline behind the glass, his back to you as he reached for his body wash.

You crossed the short distance, opening the shower door and stepping inside. "Mind if I join you?"

Tyler turned to you with a grin. "I'd love it, actually."

You reached a hand out for the body wash and washcloth he held. "Let me."

He smiled and handed them to you, but when you stepped closer, you saw the marks on his biceps--crescent moon shaped scabs. "Oh my god," you gasped. "Did I do that?"

Tyler's eyes followed your line of sight. "It's not a big deal, princess. They're badges of honor, as all marks from you are."

You bit your lip, clearly unconvinced.

"Baby." His voice was stern enough you immediately turned your attention to his face. "I'm okay. I promise."

You relaxed, the clear calm in his expression easing your worry. "Okay."

He grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him, a little smile on his face. "Besides, you've got a nice bite mark on that pretty collarbone of yours...and some finger shaped bruises on these sexy hips."

You looked down to where his fingers grazed your skin and realized he was right. A light blush crept up to your cheeks. "I have to admit...I quite like the idea of you marking me."

Tyler grinned wolfishly. "Now you know how I feel."

You giggled softly, allowing him to press his body more firmly against you, lips seeking yours for a gentle kiss.

When he attempted to deepen the kiss, you gently pushed him back. "We need to actually bathe, remember? The team's expecting us for breakfast soon."

He groaned. "They can wait."

"Tyler!" you yelped when he pulled you back in, pressing a warm kiss to your lips.

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your abdomen, his hands roaming your body like he wanted to memorize it. You sighed softly as he gently messaged your skin, your need for him growing with each passing moment.

"Come on, princess. Let me make you feel good," he begged against your ear, fingers dangerously close to your core.

"Please," you whimpered.

Tyler grinned, nipping at your earlobe, then your pulse point, focusing there as his fingers dipped into your dripping pussy. A soft moan of pleasure left your lips, head tilting back to lean against the cool tiles.

"I'm thinking we might just skip breakfast all together," Tyler murmured.

You laughed breathily, grabbing his face to plant another kiss to his swollen lips. "I think I'm okay with that."

Tyler spent the next 45 minutes making you moan his name as he gave you overwhelming pleasure. He also used up all the hot water in the entire motel, which you discovered when the two of you finally made it out of your room to meet the rest of the team.

"Dude, I had to take a freezing cold shower," Boone was grumbling as you and Tyler walked downstairs.

"Me too!" Dani chimed in. "Someone must have used all the hot water."

A sheepish smile graced your face as you overheard their conversation. Tyler let out a quiet chuckle, hand squeezing yours gently.

209 notes · View notes

mellowmusings · 17 hours ago

Text

death bed | coffee for your head

Azriel x sick reader

A/N- I had the idea for this when I heard the song and instead of sick Azriel I made a sick reader, please don't kill me and let me know if you wanna be tagged. Enjoy :). Warning- Angst, reader is depressed and sick, Azzie baby is depressed too. Mainly a really sad fic (mentions of death due to illness). Summary- You had been sick for sometime now and upon visiting a healer you find out the reason, unsure how much time you have left, you wish to spend every second of it preparing Azriel for the moment you leave.

'Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed'

You were tired to say the least, for the past few nights you hadn't been able to sleep at all, and your sweet mate was worried sick for you, and so you had to change your plans for the day, ditching shopping for a visit to Madja instead.

A bell rang as you step into the healer's shop, the air was thick with the scent of dried herbs and incense, instantly calming your nerves. Soft light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on shelves cluttered with jars, vials, and bundles of plants you didn't recognize. The space felt ancient, yet welcoming, as if it held the quiet weight of countless healing rituals. A small wooden counter sat at the back, covered with bottles and unmarked potions. The faint sound of wind chimes hung in the air, but it’s the stillness that stood out—everything in this room felt intentional, designed to soothe, to listen. There attending to a small plant with the smallest flowers you had ever seen stood Madja.

Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep I don't wanna pass away I've been thinking of our future 'Cause I'll never see those days I don't know why this has happened, but I probably deserve it I tried to do my best, but you know that I'm not perfect

You felt like throwing up, surely this was a joke? it had to be a joke, no she was lying or maybe you had misheard her, it had to be that way, right? "I know this can be shocking news y/n but like I said it's also a very rare illness" "No,no you're lying please tell me you're lying". She begged. Her voice broke on the last word, she couldn't breathe she felt choked, she wanted to throw up but instead she just fell to her knees and cried her heart out.

I've been praying for forgiveness, you've been praying for my health When I leave this earth, hoping you'll find someone else 'Cause, yeah, we're still young, there's so much we haven't done Getting married, start a family, watch your husband with his son

She didn't know how long she spent crying there with Madja comforting her and stroking her back, she was in shock but more than that she was worried for Azriel, if something happened to her then- No, no she wasn't going to think about that right now but for some reason her thoughts kept circling back to Azriel, to the quiet that would fill the room when she was gone. He’d wake up, reach for her, and feel nothing but emptiness. The bed would be cold, the silence too heavy. He’d feel it in the small things—no more shared glances, no more soft words in the dark.

Would he be okay without her? She couldn’t shake the fear that the grief would swallow him, that the shadows he kept so tightly contained would consume him without her there to pull him back. Would the memories be enough, or would they slip through his fingers? The thought of him unraveling, of him breaking, made her heart ache in a way she couldn’t ignore. She wouldn’t be there to catch him, and that terrified her.

Her gaze caught on a lovely family in the park, children being chased by their dad, their mom laughing at the scene and smiling lovingly at her partner, right, she would never be able to have that with Azriel either. Maybe, one day he'll find someone else, who'd love him just as much as she did, someone who'd start a family with him, give him heirs as lovely as he is. She hoped so because if Madja was right then-

I wish it could be me, but I won't make it off this bed I hope I go to heaven, so I see you once again My life was kinda short, but I got so many blessings Happy you were mine, it sucks that it's all ending

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed, yeah

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Yeah, I'm happy that you're here with me I'm sorry if I tear up When me and you were younger, you would always make me cheer up Taking goofy videos while walking through the park You would jump into my arms every time you heard a bark

You lay back against the pillows, your chest rising and falling with every shallow breath. Azriel sat beside you, his fingers gently brushing over your hand, but the tension in the air was thick, suffocating. You could feel the worry in his touch, in the way he kept glancing at you, like he was afraid to miss something, afraid to lose you before he could even understand what was happening.

"Azriel," you whispered, your voice trembling as you gathered the courage to finally say the words. "I’m sick." You tried to keep your tone calm, but it cracked as soon as the words left your lips. "The healer said it’s a rare heart condition. Something... incurable."

His face froze, eyes widening with disbelief, and he leaned forward, as if to pull you into him, to somehow shield you from the world. But you didn’t want his protection right now. You wanted him to hear this. To know the truth, even if it shattered him.

"I wish it could be me," you continued softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "I wish I could take it all. The pain. The time. But I—" You faltered, and the tears you had been holding back finally broke free. "I won’t make it off this bed, Azriel."

His hand tightened around yours, his breath shaky, but he said nothing, his eyes begging you to take it back, to tell him it wasn’t true. But you couldn’t. Not anymore.

"I hope I go to heaven," you murmured, forcing a small smile through your tears. "So I can see you again. One day, after this... after all of this."

Azriel’s face crumpled with pain, his eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached for you, pulling you close as if he could somehow hold you together, like he could make everything right if he just tried hard enough. "No," he whispered, his voice raw. "No, please. Don’t say that. Don’t leave me." It hurt to see the brave and stoic shadow singer crumble infront of you over such a small matter, he had faced death time and time again, but never had you seen him so broken.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of him holding you, but there was no denying it now. You couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t keep fighting against what you knew in your bones was coming.

"I’m not ready," you whispered, voice barely audible, "but I think... I think you need to be. This is the reality now, Love. I won’t have much time left."

Azriel held you tighter, but it was clear that he was barely holding on himself. You could feel his heart racing against yours, the fear, the love, the desperation. But you knew, deep down, there was no way to stop it.

"I just need you to be ready," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "Because I won’t be here for long. I need you to promise me something, Az."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face a mask of agony, but he nodded, clinging to your every word.

"Promise me you won’t forget me," you said, the ache in your chest growing, but you didn’t want him to carry this burden forever. "Promise me you’ll live, not survive, but live, even if I’m not there."

He pressed his forehead to yours, and for a moment, it was like the world stopped moving. "I’ll never forget you," he said hoarsely. "And I’ll never stop loving you, not even after…"

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek, but you could feel the finality of it, the quiet acceptance in your soul that you had already said goodbye. "I know. But you have to promise me, Love. Please. Live, for both of us."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy, inevitable. And in that moment, you let go. You accepted what was coming, not with peace, but with a sorrow that was too vast to express.

Azriel didn’t say anything after that. He just held you, and in the silence of the room, you both faced what you knew was coming, as painful and unbearable as it was.

Cuddle in your sheets, sang me sound asleep And sneak out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03 Sundays went to church, on Mondays watched a movie Soon you'll be alone, sorry that you have to lose me

You were curled up against Azriel, the quiet crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. He held you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield from the world. The memories flowed easily now, the ones you both cherished, the ones you were trying so hard to relive, to hold on to.

"Cuddle in your sheets," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "like we used to, like we did so many times. You’d sing me to sleep, your voice soft, your hand in my hair."

Azriel’s thumb brushed over your skin as if committing the sensation of this moment to memory, the feeling of your body pressed against his. "I’ll sing you to sleep forever if I can," he replied, voice thick with emotion. "But you know... I think the best part was sneaking out through your kitchen at exactly 1:03. I used to look at the clock, and I knew you’d be there. We’d laugh, sneak away like we didn’t have a care in the world."

You chuckled softly, a tear slipping down your cheek at the thought. "Sundays, we went to church together. Mondays, we’d watch a movie, get lost in each other’s company. Simple, sweet. And it was ours." You pulled back slightly to look up at him, a small, sad smile on your lips. "I wish we had more of those Mondays."

Azriel's eyes softened with the weight of your words, his voice barely more than a broken whisper. "We still have now," he said, but even he knew the truth in the heaviness of his words. Time was running out.

You closed your eyes, trying to soak in every moment, every detail. You could feel the pain of the inevitable, but for tonight, for this brief moment, you clung to the idea that you could still make new memories. "But soon you'll be alone," you whispered, a sob escaping before you could stop it. "I’m sorry that you have to lose me."

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, his face pressing into your hair. "Don’t say that," he murmured, though his voice was thick with sorrow. "I’ll never lose you. Not really. Not in my heart."

You nodded, your body trembling in his arms. "I hope so," you whispered, holding him tighter. "But I’ll always love you. Every memory, every laugh, every quiet Sunday. I’ll carry those with me, even when I’m gone."

And for a moment, time felt still, like the universe had paused just long enough for you both to hold on to each other a little tighter, to try and make every second count before it was all gone.

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Azriel sat beside you, his hand resting gently on your own, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chill that seemed to constantly settle in your bones. Your breathing was shallow, weak, each rise and fall of your chest an effort, and yet, despite it all, you smiled up at him. It was the kind of smile that told him you were fighting, even when it seemed like there was no fight left in you.

"I don't want you to stay awake for too long," you whispered, your voice thin, but still full of the love you carried for him. "I know you watch over me, but you need sleep too, Azriel." Your hand squeezed his, the action small but intentional.

He looked at you, eyes filled with an ache that ran deeper than the shadows that normally clung to him. His gaze searched your face, searching for something, anything that might bring you back to him, but there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming. His grip tightened, but he didn't speak. What could he say? Every word felt like a lie in the face of what you both knew was inevitable.

"You've been so strong," he finally whispered, voice hoarse. "Please, don’t give up on me now." His thumb stroked over your knuckles, as if grounding himself in the reality that, in his heart, he knew you were slipping away.

You let out a soft, raspy laugh, and though it was faint, it made him want to smile, even though the pain was consuming him. "I’m not giving up," you said, each word a battle, but the light in your eyes still bright enough to pierce through the darkness. "I’m just… trying to make the most of the time we have left."

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, his chest tightening, but you gently cupped his cheek, urging him to look at you. "Don’t stay awake for too long," you repeated softly, your hand slipping into his as you pressed it over your heart. "Don’t go to bed, not yet. I’m still here. I’m still with you."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. You felt his warm breath on your skin, a small reminder of how much he loved you. How much he needed you.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice breaking. "Let me make you coffee in the morning, just like we used to. I’ll get you out of bed. I’ll help you find your strength again, just like before."

You smiled at him, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision. "I’ll make the coffee," you whispered, "when I can. I’ll make sure you get through it, even after I’m gone. I wrote you letters. Letters for the years to come, so you’ll know I’m still with you. So you’ll know that I’ll always love you, even when I’m not there."

Azriel’s heart shattered. "No," he said hoarsely, "No, you can’t leave me." His voice broke at the end, the rawness of his fear leaking through. You were fighting so hard, so fiercely, for him, but he couldn’t stop the truth from settling in his chest.

"You’ve always been my strength, Azriel," you whispered, your voice so soft, but so full of love. "And I’ll be yours, even when I’m not here to hold you. I need you to live. To keep fighting. And when the days feel long, when the nights feel too empty, I want you to read those letters. They’re for you. I’ll make sure you find your way."

Azriel couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, his lips trembling against your skin. "I’m going to keep you here with me, in my heart. Forever. I promise. I won’t forget, I swear it."

You smiled through the tears, despite the weariness that clung to your body. "I’m not leaving you, Azriel," you whispered, "not really. Not ever."

But the truth, unspoken between you both, was that you didn’t have much longer. And still, you fought, not for yourself but for him, so he could have something to hold on to after you were gone.

"Please," he begged softly, his voice breaking, "don’t leave me."

You brushed a tear from his cheek, as your voice trembled, "I’ll never really leave you, Azriel. I’ll always be with you. In every letter, in every thought."

You paused, a soft, warm breath escaping your lips. "I’ll get you out of bed, Azriel," you whispered, a hint of a smile on your face, "I’ll get you going again. Even if I’m not there to see it."

His tears fell freely now, but there was a quiet peace in the way he held you—knowing, with an ache so deep it felt like it might swallow him whole, that he would carry you forever.

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

A few weeks had passed, and the weight of each day was beginning to take its toll. The glow in your eyes had dimmed, and your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. Azriel stayed by your side every moment, his presence constant, like a shadow you never wanted to be without.

He had been trying to hold on to the last threads of you, keeping the hope alive that maybe, somehow, you would pull through. But he knew. He knew with every soft breath you took, with every fleeting smile you gave him, that time was slipping away from both of you.

Today, though… today it felt like everything was slower. The air in the room was thick with an aching kind of quiet, the kind where even the heartbeats that echoed in the space between you seemed too loud.

Azriel sat on the edge of the bed, his arms around you, pulling you close like you’d always been. His fingers lightly traced the line of your jaw, like he could imprint your face into his soul if he touched you long enough. His lips pressed to your forehead, trying to pour every ounce of love and comfort he could into you, but it felt like it was never enough.

You had grown weaker. Your skin was pale, your breathing labored, but you still smiled at him when your eyes fluttered open.

"I’m still here," you whispered softly, your voice raspy but filled with the love you had for him. "I’m still here, Azriel."

He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, his throat tight. "You don’t have to fight anymore," he murmured, brushing the damp strands of hair from your face. "I’ve got you. I’ll never let you go."

You smiled faintly, your hand reaching for his, weak but determined. "I know," you whispered. "I know… but I have to tell you something, something important."

Azriel leaned closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Anything," he breathed. "Tell me anything, love. I’m listening."

"I wrote letters," you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open. "For the years to come… For you. So you know I’ll always be with you, even when I’m not." He silently promised himself would read every letter you left behind, each one a piece of your love, keeping him alive in a world where you no longer were.

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sob breaking free from deep inside him. "You don’t have to go," he said, his voice raw, breaking with the weight of everything he wished he could say, everything he wished he could change. "I can’t… I can’t lose you."

A tear slipped down your cheek, but your smile didn’t fade. You reached up with trembling fingers, tracing the line of his jaw, as if trying to memorize him the way he had memorized you. "You’ll be okay, Azriel. You’re so strong. You’ve always been strong. Just—just remember that I love you. I always will."

His breath caught in his throat as he kissed your hand gently, his voice cracking. "I love you," he whispered, "I love you more than I could ever put into words."

You closed your eyes, your hand slipping from his, but he caught it again instantly, holding on as if it would keep you tethered to him, keep you from slipping away.

Your breathing grew even more shallow, each one taking more effort than the last. Azriel could feel the tremor in your body, the slow, inevitable shift that told him everything he feared was coming. But he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

"I’m not ready to let you go," Azriel murmured, his voice hoarse, tears streaming down his face as he held you in his arms. "I’ve never been ready to let you go. Not now, not ever."

You gave him one last, gentle smile, your hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "You’ll always have me," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "In every letter, in every thought, in every coffee you make. You’ll find me again, in the quiet moments. I’ll always be with you."

And then, as if your body had finally found peace, your chest stilled. Your breathing slowed, and for the first time in weeks, there was complete silence. Azriel’s heart shattered, his breath caught in his throat, and for a long moment, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

"No," he choked out, his voice breaking, his chest heaving with the weight of loss. "No, please…"

But there was no response. Only the soft, quiet sound of his heartbeat echoing through the silence, as if trying to fill the emptiness you left behind. His arms tightened around you one last time, as if holding you could bring you back, as if love could defy death.

For a long while, Azriel stayed there, clutching you to him, his tears falling onto your skin. He couldn’t let go. Not yet. He needed to hold you, to feel you close, to believe, for just a little longer, that you weren’t truly gone.

And in the stillness of the room, as the shadows of night stretched across the floor, Azriel whispered the only thing left in his broken heart.

"I’ll always love you. Always."

The room was silent. Still. But his words lingered in the air, a promise he would carry with him forever.

And I, don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed

Azriel stood at the edge of the balcony, staring into the endless void of night. The stars above seemed to mock him, distant and cold, twinkling as though the universe was still moving forward, as though life was continuing. But for him, everything had stopped.

The wind swept through the courtyard, its icy fingers clawing at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold that had settled deep in his chest, in his soul. He had not moved from that spot since… since that moment. The moment she had slipped away from him, her final breath trembling in his arms, leaving nothing but an echo of the love they had shared. The world felt like a hollow, silent place, and he was drowning in its emptiness.

He could still smell her, faintly. Her scent lingered in the air, in the folds of the blanket she had used to curl up in, in the spaces between the letters she had written him, all the things that were now gone—faded into the dust of the world she had left behind.

Her letters. He had read them, over and over, each one a tear-streaked page of her love for him, a love he could no longer feel against his skin, in her touch, in her smile. He had read her last words, over and over, searching for some kind of comfort. But the comfort never came. The words she had left behind—I’ll always be with you, Azriel—only left him feeling more alone. Her absence was a shadow that consumed everything.

"I’ll always be with you," he muttered bitterly to the darkened sky, as if the universe owed him something. "Where the hell are you now?"

He wanted to scream. To shout into the abyss that had taken her from him, to demand it give her back. But what was the point? The universe didn’t care. Time didn’t care. And now, all that was left was his hollow existence.

The days blurred together, the ache of her absence cutting deeper with every passing hour. He had stopped sleeping, stopped eating. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything but exist, moving through each day as if in a fog. The shadows whispered her name—her voice, her laughter, the warmth of her skin against his—and all he could do was shut his eyes and pretend he didn’t hear them.

But the silence… the silence was the worst.

Everywhere he went, there were reminders. The empty corner of the room where her chair used to sit, the books she had loved scattered across the table, the coffee mug she had left on the counter—his mug now, though it meant nothing. All of it was just a reminder that she was gone, and he was left alone, trapped in a world where nothing made sense without her. Without her laughter, without the way she’d tease him in the mornings, the soft way she’d press her face to his chest when she needed comfort.

She had been everything to him. His light, his warmth, his reason to fight. And now…

The darkness pressed in on him, a crushing weight on his chest. His wings, once majestic and powerful, now felt like an anchor. He had no use for them anymore. They had carried him through battles, through pain, through moments of glory. But now they felt like a reminder of how empty he was. How much of a shell he had become.

The weight of the silence was unbearable. He could feel the crushing loneliness clawing at him, desperate to consume him whole. And as he stood there, staring out into the endless night, he almost wished for it to. He almost wished for the silence to swallow him, to take him with her, because what was the point of living in a world where she wasn’t there?

“I can’t keep doing this,” he whispered to the darkness, his voice cracking. His breath came in short, uneven bursts, each one a reminder that he was still alive—still breathing, even though every part of him screamed to be gone. To be where she was, wherever that was, because life without her felt like a slow, torturous death.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it as if the physical pain would distract him from the ache in his chest. But it didn’t. Nothing could.

The weight of everything pressed on him—the guilt, the anger, the regret. He had promised her, promised her, that he would take care of her, that he wouldn’t let her go. But in the end, he had failed. He hadn’t been enough to save her. And now, she was gone, and all he had left were the memories. The hollow echoes of her voice, her laughter, her touch.

“I wasn’t enough for you,” he whispered, a raw, broken sob escaping him. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, his wings folding around him like an armor of despair. “I couldn’t save you. And now… now I have nothing.”

He curled into himself, his arms wrapping around his knees, his head pressed against them as the tears came in waves. His body trembled with the force of it. Every sob was like a shard of glass digging deeper into his heart, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

The world had moved on. The stars had continued to shine. The wind had continued to blow. But for Azriel, it had all stopped. Because she was gone, and no matter how many times he whispered her name into the darkness, no matter how many times he begged for her to come back, he knew the truth.

She was gone. And he was broken beyond repair.

Time would pass, the seasons would change, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered without her.

And as the silence closed in around him, Azriel made a vow to the shadows, to the darkness that now felt like home.

He would never forgive himself. He would never forget the way she had died in his arms, the way he couldn’t save her. And as the cold night wrapped itself around him, he whispered through clenched teeth, “I’ll make the world pay. I’ll make everything pay for taking you from me.”

But even as the words left his lips, he knew they wouldn’t bring her back.

And he would have to live with that.

Taglist: @anarchiii @er1023 @siriuslystyle1989 @velarisdusk @scorpioriesling @starlightazriel

72 notes · View notes

heliosunny · 1 day ago

Text

Yandere!Gojo x Reader

“But it’s gotta be youuuuuu… please help me practice Reverse Cursed Technique!!!” Gojo practically wailed, clasping his hands together in exaggerated desperation.

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look up from the stack of papers your beloved teacher had dumped on you. “Don’t be so dramatic. Just ask Shoko.”

But of course, Gojo wasn’t one to take no for an answer. Ever since the previous mission together, he’d been clinging to you like some sort of overgrown, overpowered barnacle. At first, you thought it was just a phase, something he’d grow bored of once his fleeting interest inevitably wandered elsewhere. But days had turned into weeks, and his persistence was beginning to wear you thin.

Even Geto, his so-called partner in crime, refused to help. “If it’s Gojo, the only way he’ll stop is if he wants to.” Geto had said with a shrug, completely unbothered.

You sighed as you walked to school, clutching the folder of important documents you needed to submit to the principal. The last thing you needed was Gojo making a scene today of all days.

“Morning!” a voice chirped behind you, entirely too loud for the early hour.

You startled, nearly dropping your papers. Of course, it was none other than Satoru Gojo, the bane of your existence. “The heck? Why are you on this train? This route isn’t even near your place!”

He grinned, the epitome of shamelessness. “I was following you~.”

He’s joking. Right?

“Huh?” You narrowed your eyes, trying to read his expression, but those crystalline blue eyes of his were as impossible to decipher as ever. There was something about the way they sparkled, equal parts playfulness and something darker that made you want to run the other way.

“If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.” you muttered, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how unnerved you were.

He paused, as if savoring the moment, then leaned in closer. “Teach me how to use Reverse—”

Your hand flew up, clamping over his mouth before he could finish. People were starting to stare, and you could already feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Fine, fine...” you whispered harshly. “Just… let me finish my job first.”

“Yay~!” He suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of you.

You recoiled instantly, shoving him away. “Cut it out! You know I hate that.”

Gojo just laughed, unfazed. “You’re so mean to me. I don’t get why you don’t like me more, y’know? I’m pretty lovable.”

You groaned “That’s debatable.”

But as much as you tried to brush him off, the day didn’t end there. Gojo was relentless, following you around like a shadow. No matter where you went, he was there, laughing, teasing, and always keeping just a little too close for comfort.

By the time you were finished with your work, the sun was already beginning to set. You were exhausted and more than ready to go home when Gojo appeared again, this time leaning against the school gate as if he’d been waiting for you all day.

“Ready to go?” he asked, flashing that infuriatingly perfect smile.

“Go where?” you snapped, glaring at him.

“To practice, of course!” he said, his tone light, but his eyes… his eyes were far too intense. “I mean, you did promise, didn’t you?”

You hesitated. There was something about the way he said it, so casual yet so firm, that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t asking. He was telling.

“Fine” you said reluctantly, hoping that humoring him would make him leave you alone sooner.

But as you followed him to the secluded training grounds, unease began to settle in your chest. The playful Gojo you thought you knew seemed… different now. His smiles lingered a little too long, his laughter echoed a little too loudly, and when he turned to look at you, it felt like he was staring straight through your soul.

“Alright,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Let’s get this over with.”

But Gojo didn’t move. He just stood there, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“Gojo?” you asked, your unease growing.

And then, he smiled, a smile so sweet it felt almost sinister. “You know...” he began, his voice soft but laced with something unsettling, “I’ve always been good at keeping things I like close.”

Before you could process what he meant, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “And you? You’ve been running around all day, so busy with everyone else. It’s almost like you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you said, taking a step back.

But he followed, closing the distance again. “I don’t like being ignored.” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “So why don’t we make a deal? You stay by my side, and I’ll protect you from anything. Sound fair?”

Your heart raced, not from his words but from the realization that you were no longer sure if you had a choice.

And judging by the way Gojo’s grin widened, he knew it too.

The air between you grew thick, an invisible tension wrapping around your chest like a vice. You swallowed hard, unable to look away from Gojo’s gaze, those eyes that seemed to gleam with something far more dangerous than mischief.

“Gojo…” you began, voice shaky but firm. “You’re being weird.”

His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, his head tilting slightly as if you’d just said something amusing. “Weird? Nah, I’m just being honest. I’m a simple guy, you know? When I want something, I don’t stop until I get it.”

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. You took another step back, but he moved with you, closing the space again. His sheer presence felt suffocating now, as though the very air around you had bent to his will.

“Gojo, this isn’t funny. Just... just stop messing around.”

“I’m not messing around.” His tone was light, but there was an edge to it now, a sharpness that made your pulse race. “I mean, don’t you get it yet? I like you. A lot. Maybe too much.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re the only one who gets it. The only one who doesn’t look at me like I’m untouchable. Like I’m something… other.” His hand reached out again, this time brushing lightly against your arm. “You make me feel human. And I can’t let that go. I won’t.”

The sincerity in his voice should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t. It was suffocating. Overwhelming. His words dripped with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl.

“Gojo, I’m not-”

He cut you off, his expression shifting in an instant. His smile softened, but his eyes… his eyes burned. “You don’t have to say anything.” he murmured, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. “Just stay. Stay with me. That’s all I need.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest now, panic rising as you realized you were backed into a corner, both figuratively and literally.

“Gojo, you’re scaring me...” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and for a moment, he froze.

But then he laughed, a soft, almost bitter sound. “Scaring you? That’s the last thing I want.” His hand reached for your cheek, cradling it with a gentleness that belied the storm in his eyes. “I just want you safe. With me. Always.”

You flinched, trying to pull away, but his grip was firm, unyielding. His smile returned, bright and disarming, as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t worry” he said, voice impossibly sweet. “I’ll take care of everything. You’ll understand soon enough.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the training grounds, you realized something terrifying: Gojo Satoru didn’t just want you. He needed you. And there was no escape from the man who could bend the very world to his will.

---------------

I just did a photoshoot with my friend as Gojo so I guess I'll use some of the photos for my fics in the future :)))) Bear with me~

#yandere x reader #yandere #jjk gojo #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru

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player042 · 4 hours ago

Text

IN THE NIGHT | kang dae-ho

pairing: kang dae-ho (player 388) x reader

summary: you find yourself drawn to dae-ho, and it’s becoming harder and harder to hide it, even from yourself; especially during the quiet nights when it’s just the two of you keeping guard.

warning: mutual doting, lovesick but stubborn reader, mention of squid game themes such a death and despair, other than that it’s just fluff, this is my first post so feel free to give me feedback if you’d like to read more, and now please enjoy 🥹💖

word count: 1.7k

Dae-ho had a laugh that made your chest ache. Big, bright, and unrestrained, it echoed through the cold dormitory like sunlight breaking through cracks in a prison wall. It was absurd, really, how easily it pulled at the corners of your lips, how it made your heart feel too big for your ribcage.

He was an exception; you didn't know why, but he was. He was the opposite of death. Of fear. Of blood and betrayal. Quite the opposite of everything that reminded you of this hellish place. He didn't belong here. And you were confident, that even a blind person would see that for he was warmth and light, he radiated it, throughout each day you survived. You didn't know how he managed it, how he could smile, laugh, and joke even in the face of the horrors around you. It wasn't fake; you'd learned to recognize false optimism in this place, no, Dae-ho's joy was real, a stubborn defiance against the darkness threatening to swallow you all whole.

You sat across the room, waiting for the guards to let you out to the bathrooms once the other group returned. Your back rested against the wall as you watched him animatedly recount some ridiculous story from his military days to Jung-bae, with other players listening in. Mentally, you were already preparing for the night ahead, after all, you and Dae-ho were tasked with keeping watch together, a plan Gi-hun had devised in case any of the other players decided to attack. The group had agreed to take turns, so it was nothing out of the ordinary.

And yet, it was.

You and Dae-ho, all alone while the world slept? Why did the thought of that suddenly make you nervous?

Dae-ho's hands moved in exaggerated gestures, his grin wide enough to rival the cheshire cat's. Even in this pit of despair, his energy was magnetic, drawing people in like moths to a flame. And you weren't immune to it, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

His eyes caught yours mid-laugh, and for a split second, the world seemed to freeze. His smile softened, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than it should have. Your stomach flipped, a sudden rush of butterflies that made you look away, feigning disinterest even as your pulse quickened.

You weren't used to this feeling, this fluttering in your chest, this heat that rose to your cheeks every time he said your name or brushed against you in passing. It was ridiculous. You weren't the kind of person who got swept up in someone else's orbit. You were guarded, careful, a fortress built from years of self-preservation. But Dae-ho... he was different. He didn't just knock on the gates, he scaled the walls with that infuriating smirk of his.

It wasn't just his smile or his laugh that drew you in. It was the way he saw people, not just as competitors or threats, but as humans. The way he helped were he could, even though it put himself at risk. The way he noticed when someone was on the verge of breaking and managed to say just the right thing to pull them back from the edge. The way he noticed you.

You hated how easily he could read you. You prided yourself on being unreadable, untouchable, but with Dae-ho, it was like he saw straight through every mask you wore. He never called you out on it, never pressed, but the way his gaze softened when you spoke or the way he offered you his rations without a word told you everything you needed to know.

It terrified you.

And yet, here you were, stealing glances like a lovesick teenager, your mind betraying you with thoughts of how his golden skin glowed under the dim lights, how his broad shoulders looked like they could carry the weight of the world, how his laugh felt like a secret you wanted to hoard, to keep for yourself.

He was the sunshine to your shadows, the golden retriever to your black cat. His warmth threatened to melt the ice you'd spent years cultivating around your heart, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stop him. But you'd never say any of this out loud. You barely allowed yourself to even think all of this. No, you weren't foolish enough to let yourself hope for something in a place like this.

Because no matter how sweet the what if's could be, your reality was cruel, always has been. So instead, you decided to watch him from afar, heart aching with the weight of unspoken words, as the seconds ticked closer to the night which would give way to the next day and the next game that might tear you apart.

Thirty minutes later, the dormitory was dim and quieter than usual, the faint hum of the fluorescent X and O on the ground and the transparent piggy bank full of blood-money above, the only sounds aside from the occasional snoring and shuffling of restless players. Most had fallen into an uneasy sleep, and here you were, being tasked with keeping watch.

You and Dae-ho were sitting across from each other near your group, shielded by spare mattresses. You sat on the cold metal floor, your back resting against a stack of unused bunk beds. Dae-ho was perched across from you, one leg bent, the other stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted back slightly, his eyes scanning the room, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips as though you weren't both surrounded by people who'd kill you without a second thought. You didn't know how he managed it, how he could find light in a place like this.

"You're staring," he said suddenly, his voice low but playful.

Your cheeks burned, and you looked away quickly, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. "I'm not."

He chuckled softly, the sound like a warm breeze cutting through the icy tension of the room. "Sure, you're not."

"Focus, Dae-ho," you muttered, trying to mask your embarrassment. "You're supposed to be watching for threats, not making jokes."

"I can multitask," he replied, his grin widening. "Besides, I'd argue you're more distracting than anyone sneaking around here."

You shot him a glare, but your heart fluttered at his words. "You're impossible."

"I've been called worse," he said, leaning back. His dark eyes softened as they met yours. "But you... you're something else."

You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, brushing his words off with a scoff. "Flattery isn't going to keep us alive, you know."

"No, but it's better than sitting in silence," he said. Then, after a pause, his voice turned quieter, more serious. "You don't talk much. Why is that?"

Your gaze flickered to him, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. "What's the point?" you asked after a moment. "It's not like anyone here is worth trusting."

He tilted his head, studying you. "Do you trust me?"

You hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on you. The truth was, you didn't know. You wanted to, desperately, but trust was dangerous in a place like this.

"I don't know," you admitted finally. "Do you trust me?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "I think I do," he said softly. "You've got this... thing about you. Like you're always a couple steps ahead of everyone else."

You raised an eyebrow. "That's a nice way of saying I'm paranoid."

"Smart," he corrected, his grin returning. "And I like smart."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're stubborn," he shot back, his tone light but affectionate. "But this just adds to the list of all the things I like about you. We make a good team, you know."

The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. You glanced away, your cheeks warming despite the chill of the room. "You shouldn't say things like that," you muttered, your voice quieter now.

"Why not?" he asked, his tone teasing but curious. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No," you shock your head quickly, though the butterflies in your stomach betrayed you. "It's just... we don't know how this is going to end. It's better not to-" You stopped yourself, unsure of how to finish.

"Not to what?" he pressed, his voice softer now. "Care?"

You looked at him then, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were steady, searching, but not pushing. It was so unlike the Dae-ho you were used to, the loud, laughing sunshine of the group. This version of him, quiet and sincere, was harder to guard against.

"It's dangerous," you finally said, barely above a whisper.

His lips quirked into a small smile, but there was no teasing this time. "Everything here is dangerous. Doesn't mean it's not worth it."

For a moment, you didn't know what to say. The silence stretched between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt... warm, somehow. Safe.

"Why do you do that?" you asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"Do what?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Act like everything's fine," you said, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. "Like we're not all fighting for our lives."

His smile faltered, just for a second. "Because someone has to," he admitted. "If we all give in to the fear, what's left? I can't control what happens tomorrow, but I can try to make today a little less awful. Even if it's just for a moment."

Your chest tightened at his words. He said it so casually, like it wasn't the most selfless thing you'd ever heard.

"You should get some rest," you said, focusing on the shadows dancing across the floor, your voice quieter now, "I'll take it from here."

"And leave you all alone? Not a chance," he decided, stretching his arms behind his head. "Besides, I'm enjoying the company."

You didn't reply, but your heart betrayed you, beating a little faster at his words. As the night stretched on, you sat together in the dim light. And for the first time in days, you felt a faint sense of calm, not because you believed things would be okay, but because, for now, you weren't alone. Neither of you said it aloud, the weight of unspoken feelings heavy between you, but for now, it was enough.

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fxgslxvehouse · 3 days ago

Text

As much as Carey hated coming to the realization that he liked being fucked, he couldn’t let anyone know. Not even the man who had brought those orgasms out of him so expertly. Thankfully, he never had to see the guy again. He’d make sure Felix was never hired for their frat parties. He didn’t want to see the man who had turned him into a proper begging bitch, ever again.

Carey ignored the man’s words, right up until Felix revealed the frat brothers would be letting him free of the gear. “Wait! No, you can’t leave me like this!” Raising his mitten-paws. “Take these off me!” He yelled, climbing off the bed and towards Felix. Suddenly, with the energy of an athlete. “Please, take– Shit.” The puppy fag went cross-eyed as the plug was turned on. “Shit… I.. fuck.” He whined. “Don’t go!!” Carey begged, running towards the door before it was closed behind the departed man.

The pathetic pup struggled pawing at the door. He couldn’t turn the knob, and he couldn’t turn the lock to prevent his frat brothers from coming in. He was trapped, while the toy pleased his prostate nice and gentle. “Fuck, fuck.” He struggled trying to remove the paws, but had no choice but to accept the fate of his frat brothers' laughs and help.

The End.

"Oh our time is about up, yes," he said as he gave the man's ass a quick pat." He rose from the bed and picked up a small remote. "Pity that you're quite sure I need to go. Don't worry, I'll be sure to leave you with something to entertain you until your brothers come to let you out." He picked up his clothes, sliding into them quickly. He dropped a card in front of the man. "Call me if you want another fuck, Bitch," he said. A press of a button had the tail plug vibrating lightly in the man's ass. He tossed the remote to the bed next to the man. In range but with those mitts on, it would take creative effort to turn the toy off. Of course the mitts would come off with enough effort so it was just a question on if he was fast enough to escape them before his frat brothers came to free him themselves. With that, he departed.

#felix and carey sunsrpmuses

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beomiracles · 1 day ago

Note

darkish thought because I love mentally ill love yandere horror tropes and beomgyu, so why not put two and two together?! >3< (fyi this is my first time writing lols..)

imagine beomgyu as the quiet, intimidating kid at school. no one dared to approach him because he just gave off this unsettling vibe—except for y/n, who was always so cheerful and saw the good in everything. beomgyu didn’t understand how someone like her could exist, so pure, so sweet. it frustrated him. it consumed him. he wanted to be the one to destroy her innocence, to ruin her from the inside out. his obsession spiraled until he couldn’t take it anymore, so much so that one day he snapped and ended up kidnapping her, having her all to himself, to do as he pleased. <3

y/n woke up in his basement, tied up, blindfolded, and gagged, completely at his mercy. if feeling the tip of a knife gliding down y/n's trembling bare thighs wasn’t enough, her heart completely dropped when she heard that all-too-familiar voice.

"dumb girl~ haven’t you learned not to trust everyone?" beomgyu chuckles darkly, almost mocking. "lucky for me though..." he let the blade glide further up, earning a muffled squeak from her as it grazed against her most sensitive spot ''..now you’re right where i wanted"

you cappin, ain't no way this is your first time writing gawd lawd.. I mean you've basically done all the work here, but I shall indulge nonetheless.

tw, kidnapping, beomgyu is very unstable but what's new in these thoughts, use of knife, implied violence and blunt force trauma, nonconsensual bondage, hints at further sexual advances

the weird kid of class D, that's what they called him. with long and dark hair, shielding his sickeningly pale face. his hunched posture and strange attire making him a laughing stock all around school. ― still, people knew to stay out of Beomgyu's way. it was kind of common sense by now, for all except one.

you didn't think beomgyu was much different from anyone else. perhaps it was why you'd joined him in the cafeteria that day; your tray nudging his as you squeezed in next to him with a wide grin. ― it doesn't bother you when he ignores your advances, when he turns away and mutters a few curses under his breath.

your persistence doesn't waver, and soon you find yourself by his more than your own friends. and even though he rarely talks to you, or even pays your presence any mind, he doesn't make a move to shake you off.

naive as you were, you thought that beomgyu only needed an opportunity, a chance to show his worth. you feel almost heroic when you think about the fact that you were the one presenting him with it.

had you if only once stopped to look around, to see what was actually happening around you, maybe then you would've noticed how everyone else seem to draw back whenever you walked alongside him. perhaps then you would've caught their hesitant faces and worried glances.

"will you come to my house this Friday?"

you had practically squealed when he first asked. excitedly jumping up and down as you accept his invite. ― this was it, you were finally breaking through his thick shell. weeks worth of effort finally paying off !

it did not feel rewarding to wake up cold and confused in complete darkness. in fact it felt utterly terrifying. frantically your head jerks from side to side, unable to see through the thick blindfold that covered your wet eyes.

with your wrists bound behind your back, the ropes around your skin burned as they tightened with each tug you gave. your ankles felt sore, bloody like someone had beaten them, they, too, were tied. ― something large and round keeps your jaw locked in an uncomfortable position, drool running down your chin as you struggle to speak.

footsteps echo in the dark and you emit a muffled scream as you try to retreat. the failed attempt at fleeing merely ends with your barely dressed body pressed against a cold stone wall. ― with your breath caught in your throat you listen as someone approaches, the presence looming before you as it exhales a deep breath, sounding almost like a hum.

"look at you.." the voice speaks, it's dark and menacing, upholding a mocking tone. your blood runs cold as you recognise it. beomgyu. but that didn't make any sense why was he... when did this..

your whiny protests come out as incoherent nonsense around the gag and beomgyu chuckles, it's sinister rumble echoing against the four walls of his basement. ― "dumb girl~ haven’t you learned not to trust everyone?" he's crouched down before you now, you can feel his warm breath on your face, it makes you recoil.

Beomgyu's fingers are harsh and unforgiving as they seal around your arm, keeping you in place. "lucky for me though..." he drawls, pausing to listen to the hitch of your breath as something cold comes in contact with your tender flesh. a knife.

''..now you’re right where i wanted"

the knife glides along the inner part of your thigh, it's pointy edge poking at your soft skin and you whimper as you shake your head. beomgyu lets out a short breath, like he wasn't believing his own eyes, and with one flick off the knife he cuts your panties in half.

"don't worry", he quickly shushes your scream with false sympathy, "if you promise not to scream, I'll go easy on you"

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satellite-evans · 4 hours ago

Text

Coffee Shop Sweetheart

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Summary: having a coffee date with Charles <3

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

I am not quite familiar with Charles but I tried my best lol

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The café buzzed with soft morning energy. The hiss of the espresso machine, the faint clinking of cups, and the soothing jazz drifting through the air. You stepped up to the counter, glancing briefly at the menu even though you already knew what you wanted.

The barista greeted you with a cheery smile, her colorful bandana adding a pop of vibrancy to the cozy atmosphere. “Hi there! Welcome to our coffee shop. What can I get started for you today?”

“Hi,” you replied, smiling back. “I’ll have a caramel latte, medium, please.”

“Anything to eat?”

You looked at the display of pastries before nodding. “A croissant, please. But, uh… could you make sure it’s nice and flaky? No soggy ones today,” you added with a playful grimace.

The barista laughed. “Got it. Flaky croissant, no soggy surprises. Anything else?”

“That’s all,” you said, reaching into your bag for your wallet.

The barista handed you the receipt with a wink. “Coming right up!”

As you moved to wait by the pickup counter, you glanced at your phone. Charles had texted you an hour ago, insisting you meet him here, his favorite café that served the best coffee, in his opinion. Now, as the minutes ticked by, you couldn’t help but wonder where he was.

Just as you were about to text him, a familiar voice sounded from behind.

“Demanding as always, I see.”

You turned, and there he was. Charles stood by the door, leaning casually against the frame with his trademark lopsided grin. His black t-shirt clung to him perfectly, and his messy brown hair looked effortlessly tousled, as though he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Charles,” you said, raising an eyebrow, though your lips twitched into a smile. “You’re late.”

“Late?” he said, stepping closer. “Non, ma chérie, I’m fashionably on time, thank you very much.” He gestured toward you dramatically, his green eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’re so full of it,” you shot back, folding your arms. “What’s your excuse this time?”

He scratched the back of his neck, feigning guilt. “Fine. I may have gotten… distracted.”

“Distracted by what?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “By how good I looked in the mirror this morning. I couldn’t leave until I was absolutely certain I’d perfected this.” He waved a hand down himself with a playful flourish.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

“And yet,” he said, stepping even closer, “you adore me.”

Before you could respond, the barista chimed in from behind the counter. “Hi! What can I get for you?”

Charles turned his charm to her, his grin widening. “An espresso, please. And I’ll take care of hers too,” he added, nodding toward you.

You started to protest. “Charles, you don’t have to—”

He held up a hand, silencing you with a smug smile. “I insist. Consider it my apology for keeping you waiting.”

The barista handed back his card with a knowing smile. “You two are adorable,” she said as she went to prepare the drinks.

“Merci,” Charles replied smoothly, turning back to you with a wink.

When the drinks and your croissant arrived, Charles was quick to grab your latte, taking a long sip before you could stop him.

“Charles!” you exclaimed, trying to snatch it back.

He grinned, holding it just out of your reach. “I needed to make sure it was safe for you.”

“Safe?”

“Yes,” he said, finally handing it over. “I had to make sure that there was not poison in it.”

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself.

As the two of you settled into a table by the window, Charles slid onto the bench beside you instead of sitting across, his knee brushing against yours.

“Do you mind?” you asked, giving him a pointed look.

“Not at all,” he said breezily, leaning closer. “I want to be near you.”

“Charles, we’re in public,” you murmured, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably when he reached up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And?” he replied, his fingers lingering in your hair. “Public or not, I want to remind you how lucky I am to have you.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the tenderness in his expression. “You’re really laying it on thick today, aren’t you?”

He smiled, shrugging as he began absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. “Maybe. Or maybe I just can’t help it when you look like this.”

“Like what?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“Like the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said simply, his green eyes locking onto yours.

Your heart fluttered at the sincerity in his tone, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

Charles tilted his head slightly, studying you with that mischievous glint in his eye. “Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you right now?”

“Charles,” you hissed, glancing around.

“What? No one’s watching,” he whispered, leaning closer.

“Except the barista, the other customers…”

He smirked, brushing his lips lightly against your temple before moving to whisper in your ear. “Then I’ll just have to be sneaky.”

Before you could protest, he cupped your cheek gently and pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips. It was quick, but enough to leave your skin tingling.

“Charles!” you whispered, your cheeks burning.

He pulled back, utterly pleased with himself. “That was worth it,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warmth.

As you settled back into your seat, trying to recover from his antics, Charles leaned closer again. This time, his voice was barely audible over the café noise. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

Your eyes widened, and you shot him a scandalized look. “Have you actually lost your mind?”

He grinned, leaning back nonchalantly. “Can you blame me? You look this good, and I’m supposed to just sit here like nothing’s happening?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he cut you off, tilting his head playfully. “C’mon, give me another kiss, at least.”

“You need to stop,” you whispered, glancing around.

He leaned in, his expression softening. “Just one. Please? I promise I’ll behave after.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t resist the puppy-dog look in his eyes. Quickly, you leaned in to brush your lips against his.

The grin that spread across his face was one of pure satisfaction. “Merci, mon amour,” he murmured, pulling you closer to his side.

“You’re a horny teenager, that's what you are,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

“And you’re perfect,” he replied, his voice full of affection.

For the rest of the morning, Charles remained glued to your side. And though his antics left your cheeks burning more than once, you couldn’t help but love every second of it.

#charles leclerc #fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x fem!reader #cl16 x reader #cl16 #cl16 x you #charles leclerc fic rec #fic rec #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader

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bestalbertcamuslover · 2 days ago

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Cynic Pt.3

Here's part 1, part 2 (they kind of work independently)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing: RB! Sebastian Vettel x Engineer! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none ✯

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The party buzzed around them, the air electric with the team’s victory. She stood near the bar, her champagne glass in hand, her cheeks flushed—not just from the alcohol, but from the warmth of the celebration. She laughed easily at something one of the mechanics had said earlier, the bubbly loosening her usual stoic demeanor.

Sebastian spotted her from across the room, her smile catching his attention like it always did when she let her guard down. He weaved through the crowd and sidled up next to her.

“Having fun?” he asked, leaning casually on the bar.

She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Why wouldn’t I be? Free drinks, a win, and you’re not in a mood today. Perfect trifecta.”

He chuckled, nudging her playfully. “Wow, I’m part of the winning formula now?”

“Oh, don’t get a big head,” she teased, tipping her glass toward him before taking another sip. “You’re tolerable tonight, that’s all.”

Sebastian smirked, tilting his head as he watched her. “You’re extra talkative tonight.”

She shrugged, a grin tugging at her lips. “What can I say? Champagne makes me chatty.”

He laughed, and she couldn’t help but join in, the sound light and unrestrained. But then, mid-laugh, she waved her hand vaguely in his direction, her grin turning into a lopsided smirk.

“You know what’s annoying about you?” she started, her tone playful but tinged with mock exasperation.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, this should be good. Enlighten me.”

“You’re… too much,” she declared, pointing at him for emphasis. “You’re charming and nice and talented and—ugh—it’s infuriating. You walk into a room, and suddenly everyone’s looking at you. It’s like you have your own gravitational pull or something.”

His grin widened, though there was a softness in his eyes as he listened. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s so,” she insisted, her words flowing faster now, her usual filter completely absent. “And you make people—me—feel things. Like, why do you have to be so…” She paused, gesturing vaguely. “You?”

Sebastian leaned closer, clearly enjoying her little rant. “I’m sorry for being… me?”

She huffed, though she was still smiling. “Don’t apologize. That would just make you even more annoying. And stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” he asked, his tone innocent but his smirk anything but.

“Like you’re winning,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Well, technically, I did win today,” he quipped, earning an exaggerated groan from her.

She shook her head, laughing despite herself. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. You’re impossible.”

Sebastian reached out, gently taking the nearly empty glass from her hand and setting it on the bar. “You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I don’t mind being impossible if it means I get to hear this side of you.”

Her laughter faltered slightly, replaced by a softer, more vulnerable smile. “You’re still annoying,” she murmured, though her tone lacked any real bite.

Sebastian tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “Wait a second,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Did you just confess something? Because it kind of sounded like a confession.”

She froze for a beat, her expression caught somewhere between indignation and amusement. Then she scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, please, don’t flatter yourself. That wasn’t a confession. That was… an observation.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced, his smirk growing wider. “So, calling me charming, talented, and saying I make you feel things—purely observational, right?”

“Exactly,” she said firmly, though the telltale blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her.

Sebastian chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the bar. “Alright, alright. Just an observation, then. But for the record, I think your ‘observations’ are pretty revealing.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, though the effect was ruined by the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’ve already said that tonight,” he quipped, his tone light. “Twice, I think. I’m starting to think it’s your way of avoiding admitting things.”

“Admitting what?” she shot back, arching a brow.

“That you like me,” he said, so casually it nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she was completely at a loss for words. But then, she shook her head while faking a smirk. “Wow, you’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

He grinned, undeterred. “Maybe. But am I wrong?”

She shook her head, still smirking, and placed a hand on his arm as if to steady herself. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, echoing her earlier words, “here we are.”

She groaned, but the grin on her face made it clear she wasn’t really upset. “Fine. If it’ll shut you up, I’ll admit that you’re… tolerable. Occasionally. When you’re not being smug.”

Sebastian tilted his head, his expression softening just enough to catch her off guard. “Well, that’s a shame,” he said, his tone quieter but no less steady. “Because if you had admitted it, I could’ve said I feel the same way about you.”

Her grin faltered, and she stared at him, searching his face for a hint of teasing. But there was none. He was still smiling, but it was softer now, almost vulnerable, and her heart stumbled in her chest.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed stuck in her throat. “Seb, I—”

He cut her off with a playful grin, clearly unwilling to let the moment get too heavy. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything now. Just… think about it, alright?”

After that semi-confession, highly helped by the alcohol, they started dating. It wasn’t that Seb was the most romantic person in the world. Yes, he was romantic; however, it was her apparent lack of romanticism—the part she kept for herself—that made him seem like he was doing wonders. She was smitten, very smitten, but she tried really hard not to show it, despite sometimes being caught staring at him too endearingly or blushing in ways she couldn’t conceal.

One day, as they cuddled peacefully after a race, both too exhausted to do much. Sebastian’s fingers lazily traced circles on her arm as they lay sprawled on the couch, her head nestled comfortably against his chest. The hum of the TV filled the room, though neither of them was paying it much attention. For her, the rhythm of his heartbeat was far more captivating, though she’d never say it out loud.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “you’re kind of perfect.”

She immediately groaned, turning her face into his chest to hide the blush she could feel spreading across her cheeks. “Seb, don’t start.”

“What?” he asked innocently, though the grin in his tone was unmistakable. “I’m just stating facts.”

“Your ‘facts’ are ridiculous,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against him.

He tilted his head down, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “Ridiculous?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m an expert on this topic. I’ve conducted thorough research. You’re definitely perfect.”

She pulled back just enough to give him a half-hearted glare, though the softness in her eyes betrayed her. “Stop being so corny,” she said, trying to sound stern.

He grinned, completely unfazed. “Why? It’s true. You’re smart, funny, beautiful—”

“Seb,” she interrupted, shaking her head but unable to stop the small smile creeping onto her lips.

“—and you’ve got this cute little habit of pretending you’re not completely smitten with me,” he continued, undeterred.

Her jaw dropped in mock indignation. “I am not smitten.”

“You are,” he teased, his grin widening. “I catch you looking at me all the time, like I’m the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. It’s adorable.”

She huffed, crossing her arms, though the effect was ruined by the way her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d shove you off this bed.”

“But you are tired,” he pointed out, wrapping his arms around her more securely. “Which means you’re stuck here with me and all my corny compliments.”

She sighed dramatically, but there was no mistaking the contentment in her voice when she said, “Fine. I guess there are worse places to be.”

Sebastian chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Admit it,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a playful whisper. “You secretly love it when I’m like this.”

She didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to keep him guessing. Then, with a small, mischievous smile, she said, “Perhaps.”

His laughter rumbled through his chest, and she couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling the warmth of it settle deep within her.

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✯ authors note: English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

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