#'He's been waiting outside for me to find him'
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Part 1 Part 3
Aphrodite of Formula 1, Part 2
The Monaco paddock was buzzing, but not with the usual pre-race excitement. The drivers were all acting out of character, their girlfriends were growing increasingly frustrated, and the fans were having a field day tracking every move. The reason? Yn, as always, was oblivious to the chaos surrounding her.
---
Max and Kelly
Max leaned against a railing near the Mercedes garage, completely engrossed in conversation with Yn. She was telling him about the time she had to coordinate a last-minute team dinner for 30 people, her laughter filling the air as she recounted the chaos.
âYouâre incredible,â Max said, shaking his head. âI canât even organize my own breakfast without someone helping me.â
âItâs just practice,â Yn said modestly.
Kelly, meanwhile, stood outside the paddock, furiously scrolling through her phone. Max had promised to pick her up an hour ago, but there was no sign of him. She stormed into the paddock, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement, until she spotted him.
âMax!â she called sharply.
Max blinked, his attention snapping back to reality. âKelly?â
âYes, Kelly!â she spat. âThe one you were supposed to pick up an hour ago?â
Ynâs smile faltered. âOh no, Max, if you need to goââ
âNo,â Max said quickly. âItâs fine. She doesn't matter as much as she thinks she does.â He turned back to Yn. âSo, you were saying about the dinner?â
Kellyâs jaw dropped. âYouâre seriously just going to ignore me?â
âIâll catch up with you later. Go and be a mom for once,â Max said dismissively, earning an incredulous glare from Kelly as she stomped away.
---
Charles and Alexandra
Charles had been in a great mood all day. Why? Yn had laughed at his joke earlier, and the memory had been replaying in his mind ever since. When the day ended, he spotted Yn leaving the paddock and hurried to catch up with her.
âYn! Do you need a ride?â he asked, his smile wide.
âOh, thatâs sweet of you, but I donât want to trouble you,â Yn said.
âItâs no trouble at all,â Charles insisted, opening the passenger door of his car.
âAlright, thank you,â Yn said, climbing in.
Meanwhile, Alexandra stood in the paddock, waiting for Charles to take her back to their hotel. A mechanic approached her, not wanting to talk to her but having lost 'rock-paper-scissor' earlier against the others.
âHe left,â the mechanic said awkwardly. âWith Yn.â
Alexandraâs face turned red with fury. She let out a scream of frustration, startling everyone around her.
âAre you kidding me?!â she shouted. âWhat is wrong with all of you?! Why does he prefer this stupid bitch over me. Iâm the one he should be fucking, not driving this slut home. Oh, she will pay!!â
Phones whipped out, capturing her meltdown as she stormed through the paddock, cursing under her breath.
By the time Alexandra returned to her hotel, videos of her tirade were all over the internet. Fans mocked her relentlessly, calling her a âgold diggerâ or "the wicked bitch is out again" and posting memes about her jealousy.
Charles, however, didnât care. Yn had laughed at his joke earlier, and that was all that mattered.
---
Pierre and Kika
Pierre handed Yn a beautifully wrapped gift box, his smile warm. âI saw this and thought of you.â
Yn opened the box to find a limited-edition Hermès handbag. Her eyes widened. âPierre, this is too much! I canât accept this.â
âOf course you can,â Pierre said. âYou deserve it.â
Kika, meanwhile, had been plotting her next move. If Pierre thought a handbag was impressive, sheâd go bigger.
The next day, Kika handed Yn a set of car keys.
âWhatâs this?â Yn asked, confused.
âA Lamborghini,â Kika said proudly. âItâs yours. Matte black, just like I imagined for you.â
Yn stared at the keys, speechless.
Before she could respond, Kika leaned in and kissed her on the lips, letting her tongueget a taste of Yn's sweet mouth. âI hope you like it,â she said with a wink.
Pierre watched the scene unfold, his jaw tightening. âA Lamborghini?â he muttered under his breath.
---
George and Carmen
Yn joined George and Carmen for a rare day off, excited for a relaxed shopping trip. But George had other plans.
As they browsed a boutique, George held up a sleek, form-fitting dress. âYn, you should try this.â
Yn blinked. âMe? Thatâs not really my style.â
âIt is now,â George said firmly. âYou shouldnât hide your beauty.â
Carmen nodded approvingly. âThatâs so thoughtful, George. Always looking out for her.â
Yn reluctantly tried on the dress, emerging from the fitting room. George stepped closer, adjusting the fabric on her chest. He gave her perfect tit's a squeeze, making it look like he was adjusting the area.
âPerfect,â he said softly. His heart was hammering, his hands not wanting to leave her breast. It was only then that he noticed that Yn wasn't wearing a bra. Her peaky nipples winked at him. He softly stroked over them with his thumbs, before catching himself.
Yn laughed. âYouâre too much.â She didn't notice anything, to engrossed in her conversation with Carmen.
Carmen, obviously to everything that George just did, smiled, thinking to herself how sweet George was to look out for her pseudo-sister.
---
Oscar and Lily
Oscar was supposed to be taking photos for Lilyâs social media, but his camera seemed to have a mind of its own. Every few minutes, it drifted toward Yn, who was seated nearby, absorbed in her work.
âOscar,â Lily said, tapping her foot. âHello? Iâm over here.â
âRight,â Oscar mumbled, snapping a quick photo of Lily before turning his camera back to Yn.
Lily sighed but didnât bother protesting. âYouâve got it bad,â she said, shaking her head.
Oscar grinned sheepishly. âSheâs just⌠perfect.â
---
Carlos and Rebecca
Carlos sat in the paddock, scrolling through his phone. His screen was filled with photos of Yn, her smile lighting up every shot. His panst started feeling tighter, his dick fighting to break free from his trousers.
He didnât notice Rebecca walking up behind him until she leaned over his shoulder.
âSeriously?â Rebecca said, raising an eyebrow. âDid you just popp a boner in public because of a fucking picture?â
Carlos nearly dropped his phone. âI wasnâtââ. He quickly brought his hands in front of his trousers. However, when he made contact with his dick, he couldn't help imagine Yn on her knees for him, making him moan rather loud.
Rebecca just scoffed at him, feeling disgusted that he acted like that towards Yn in public. She looked him up and down, before muttering "Pathetic Pussy" so only Carlos could hear, and left.
That evening, Rebecca found Yn in her hotel room, exhausted. âYou need to take better care of yourself, my love,â Rebecca said gently, brushing Yn hair away from her face.
Yn tried to protest, but Rebecca guided her to the bed and began massaging her shoulders. âYouâre too kind,â Yn mumbled, her eyes drooping. Slowly, Rebecca brought her hands lower and lower towards her ass, giving it a squeeze and a soft pad, so Yn would stand up.
Rebecca tucked her in, smoothing the blanket over her. âGoodnight,â she whispered, climbing into bed and wrapping her arms around Yn as the big spoon.
Yn, half-asleep, murmured, âThank you.â
Rebecca smiled. âAnything for you.â Afterwards, while Yn was asleep, he put one hand on Yn book, playing with it. At the same time, she was sucking a hickey carefully on her neck, licking and kissing her neck afterwards.
---
Despite the chaos, Yn remained blissfully unaware of the war raging around her. For her, it was just another busy race weekend. For everyone else, it was a battle to win her heart, no matter the cost.
@omgsuperstarg
@seonghwaexile
#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x reader#george russel x reader#pierre gasly x reader#oscar piastri x reader#carlos sainz x reader#jealous! kelly piquet#jealous!alexandra saint mleux#rebecca would leave carlos for yn#formula 1
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Back to you
Summary: in a world where everyone has a soulmate, you find yours in the least expected way.
Pairing: Felix x fab!reader
Genre: fluff, angst, smut, sci fi au, slice of life au
Word Count: 8.8k
Warnings: time jumps, kissing lol, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, making love, dirty talk?, kinda an open ending
Notes: stuck in my sci fi era lol i had this idea for a while and decided to finish it recently. let me know what you think!
If you enjoyed, please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keep me motivated.
Divider by @sweetmelodygraphics
Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. Šď¸moonchild9350 (2024)
âWeâre done!â
Two words, two little words. Who would have thought those two words would break Felixâs heart. He thought Xania was the one, after all she was supposed to be his soulmate.
Felix turned to walk down Xaniaâs stairs, taking each step slowly, one foot in front of the other. He scratched his blonde hair, messing up the little hairs that were pulled back into a ponytail. He had a frown on his face, as he contemplated where he went wrong.
Now, without Xania, he was back to square one. He needed to remedy this and fast before others found out. The world frowns upon a twenty five year old bachelor, especially in a world where people have a soulmate assigned to them since birth.
Itâs the year 3050, and humanity has improved for the better, natural selection weeding out the weak. Aging is slower due to scientific advancement, where now every year the earth rotates around the sun, humans do not age as they did a century ago. Instead every five years, a human ages one year. In this case, Felix has been twenty-five for five years now. Next year on his birthday, he will finally be twenty sixâŚand still without finding his soulmate.
Felix continues to walk down the street, muttering under his breath, conflicted on what to do next. He would have to go back to the company Soulmate and Co. and file a complaint against the lady who told him Xania was his soulmate. Deciding that this is what heâs going to do, he turns around and hails a hover car, giving the address of the building he needs.
The ride doesnât take long as the car glides through the sky, bypassing other hover cars and buildings. Once there, he slips a coin into the pouch next to his seat and exits the car. He takes a moment to view the building in front of him, tilting his head back so he can take in the whole thing.
It seems to reach all the way to the sky, the glass reflecting the bright sun that is shining today.
He marches up the steps and through the double doors, walking past the seating area, which is filled with various other clients, some smiling while others are distraught, their heads in their hands. He continues to walk through the foyer, making his way to the front desk.
âThe matchmakers please,â Felix tells the person behind the desk.
She nods at his request and signals for a guide to take him to his destination. He follows the lady, to an elevator with glass doors at the end of the hall. She beckons him to enter the glass container and presses a button labeled âlevel 50â before stepping back with a smile.
The elevator ascends gracefully, gliding on the gears without a sound, the many floors passing by with a blur. A minute passes and then two until he finally reaches the floor he needs. The elevator doors open with a hiss and Felix exits, stepping outside of the box.
He looks left and right, before noticing a directory plastered on the wall straight ahead. He doesnât give this a second glance, having been here before, but instead makes his way down the hall until he reaches a door with a placard on it identifying âMavis, Matchmakerâ
Felix pushes open the door and marches in, determination in his step. Mavisâs secretary looks up and smiles, waiting for him to approach the desk.
âHow can I help you?â She asks pleasantly, ignoring the annoyed face Felix makes at her.
âI need to speak with Mavis,â Felix pauses for a moment before he decides to add, ânow.â
The secretary eyes him, most likely deciding if he would be a threat. She must have ultimately decided he was ok because she smiled once more before pressing a button and announcing that he was here.
Felix only had to wait a brief moment when the door to the left opened, revealing a beautiful girl in the doorway. She had the signature insignia, signaling that she was a matchmaker plastered on her chest for all to see.
âMr. Lee,â she said shocked, her eyes widened at the sight of him.
âMavis, I need to speak with you.â
Mavis stepped out of the way, beckoning him into her office. Felix quickly walked over, sitting in one of the many chairs scattered throughout the small office.
âWhat can I do for you? If I remember correctly, you had found your soulmate? Why are you here?â
Felix looked at mavis incredulously. âWhy am I here? Because xania broke up with me! Sheâs not my soulmate, which means you messed up!â
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was furious, and how can he not be? Because of the matchmakers mistake, heâd be the laughing stock of his family, having to explain that he was told the wrong person was his soulmate.
Mavis looked at him, her eyes widened at the accusation. âSurely there was a mistake. Xania is your soulmateâŚthe roster confirmed it,â she hurriedly said as she pulled up a database with her fingers.
She scanned the various documents, her hand moving this way and that as she looked up his profile. finding the page she needed, she stared at it for a moment, her eyes moving across the screen.
As she came to a certain area, her eyes widened and her mouth opened as she took a deep breath. Recovering quickly, she straightened up and looked at Felix.
âIt seems there indeed was a mistake. I am so sorry Mr. Lee. Xania was not your soulmate.â
Felix stared at Mavis, fighting the urge to say something he would regret. Instead he said, âthank you, yes there has been a mistake. And now I need you to tell me who is my soulmate.â
Mavis hesitated, not sure what to say. âWellâŚI can but itâs complicated. It seems like your true soulmate is already bound to someone elseâŚâ
Bound to someone else? Shit. What is he to do now? His soulmate is galavanting with another person.
âSo what do I do now?â Felix asked dejectedly, his head hanging down.
Mavis thought for a moment, considering the options. Typically thereâs no way to go back and change the pathway of things, but she had pity on Felix. After all it was her mistake.
âThere is a wayâŚbut mind you itâs very dangerous.â
Felix perked up, his ears intent on listening to what Mavis had to say. Heâd do anything and he means anything to be with his proper soulmate.
âYou can go back in time and find your soulmate, meet them, talk to them, convince them theyâre your soulmate. Rewrite the story. Youâll have to time travel, but we can get you there. Five spins around the sun should do it.â
Time travel? Felix didnât even know such a thing existed, but then again, he shouldnât be shocked.
âOk, Iâll do it,â Felix said with determination.
Mavis nodded, pleased with Felixâs answer. She pressed a button on her desk, before speaking softly, âplease send a device member to my office.â
She released the button and smiled as she placed her hands on her desk. Felix shifted awkwardly in his seat, unsure of where to look or what to say as Mavis was silent. He decided to look at the files on her shelf, his eyes roaming over script he couldnât understand.
He looked with interest until the door opened suddenly, causing him to jump slightly in his seat.
âAh, come in please. Have a seat. â Mavis said as a shy looking girl in blue scrubs walked in.
She looked curiously at Felix, taking him in. She carefully sat in the chair next to him and looked at Mavis, waiting for instruction.
âMelody, this here is Mr. Lee. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, he needs to go back to the past, specifically five years ago. Can you escort him to the vault and assist him please?â
Melody nodded, a soft smile spreading on her face. âMost certainly.â
Mavis smiled, âgreat! Well off you both go! Good luck Mr. Lee!â
She swiveled away, her back to Felix and melody. Felix got up as his escort got up and followed her out of the office. They walked through narrow hallways, went down flights of stairs, the walk seeming to go on forever until stopping at a large metal door.
Felix watched as she placed her palm on a scanner, the laser reading her dna ensuring her identity matched who she said she was. A soft beep rang in the otherwise empty corridor, the door springing open slightly.
Melody stepped in between the crack, Felix following right behind her. The door shut with a finite click, locking them within the room.
As Felix faced forward, the lights within the room turned on, illuminating the area with soft light. He scanned the room nothing seeming of interest until his eyes landed on the machine in the center of the room.
It had glass walls, just like everything in the building, a small panel just to the left of the door. Melody walked over to a switch on the wall and lifted it, a soft humming sound present within the room as things powered up.
She went to the panel and started pressing button after button, most likely setting the time frame for which he has to go back. After a while, she turned to face him.
âMr. Lee, please step within the box.â
Felix cautiosouly walked to the glass box and stepped inside. Despite the walls being made of glass, he couldnât help but feel a little claustrophobic, the walls closing in on him.
He jumped at the sound of static, melodyâs voice echoing in the small chamber.
âI will transport you back to five years ago. You will still be twenty five. Complete your mission but know you only have one year to complete your task, whether you are successful or not. Once you are done, youâll know what to do in order to get back.â
Felix was nervous, his heart rapidly beating so hard within his chest, he felt as if it would jump out any moment. He wiped the thin sheen of sweat that had formed on his forehead as he stared at Melody through the glass wall.
She gave a thumbs up and smiled before pressing a green button. The humming noise slowly intensified, until there was a buzzing sound echoing in his ear.
The air in front of him started to ripple, the atoms slowly manipulating themselves to transport him to a different time and place.
As his surroundings started to fade and become unrecognizable, he felt a tingle on his skin, almost as if he was being touched with a million needles. The feeling intensified until his belly started to churn, nausea taking over as the air became harder to breathe.
There was a flash of white light and just when he thought he would pass out from the sensation within the room, there was quiet and stillnessâŚbut only for a moment.
The air expanded, his breath caught off untilâŚ. -- -- It was a clear night, the sky black, the stars twinkling and the moon bright. There was barely any wind blowing, but the trees swayed nonetheless, providing a refreshing breeze on this summer night.
You were laying on a blanket in your backyard, star gazing, enjoying your night off. The night was silent, that is until you heard a low buzz, traveling from one ear to the other.
You dismissed the sound until the buzz got louder, almost deafening. Sitting upright, you looked around, searching for the source of the annoying sound.
You were about to give up after not seeing anything when the space in front of you shifted, a small hole opening up in the night air.
You stared horrified, unable to move as the hole got bigger, and a bright light appeared within the space.
You let out a scream as a man fell from the hole, his arms outstretched as he tumbled through, landing directly on top of you, causing you to fall backwards.
You let out a huff as your head lightly bounced on the soft grass, your eyes wide as you stared at the man who came from nowhere.
He laid there dazed, his eyes trying to focus as he attempted to breathe. You took him in, eyeing his features of dazzling brown eyes that seemed to shine even at night, millions of freckles littering his face like the stars of the night sky, and small, plush heart shaped lips.
This man was beautiful, that you couldnât deny. An angel for sure sent from heaven. However, that thought dashed from your head as he opened his mouth to speak.
âOh shit! Iâm sorry!â The man said as he scrambled to get off of you, grunting as he fell over in the process.
âAhh!â You exclaimed, scooting over to him to help him up. âAre you alright?â
He looked at you, his eyes taking you in before he blushed and looked down.
âIâm ok,â he replied softly. âIâm sorry, I umâŚI thinkâŚactually, I have no clue what happenedâŚor if Iâm even in the correct place.â
You chuckled as the man stuttered through his explanation, as he clearly had no clue what was going on.
âHow about we start with your name?â You suggested, sitting next to him.
âName. Right. Yeah. UmmmâŚIâm Felix,â he said as continued to stare at the ground.
âWell, Felix, Iâm y/n.â
'Y/n,â Felix thought, âsuch a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.â When you said your name, he felt his heart flutter and a warm sensation spread through him, which was contrary to how he felt not even five minutes ago.
He was in the right place. Heâs not sure how he knew, he just felt that it felt right deep within.
Felix returned his gaze to you, taking in your calm demeanor, despite just seeing him come out of a black hole essentially. His eyes roamed your face, your eyes trained on him in concern, your lips slightly parted.
He felt his heart race as he continued to stare at you remembering how you felt underneath him, so soft and perfect.
Felix shook his head, coming back to the time at hand. He looked around the yard, taking in the little oasis you had created. There were fairy lights illuminating the space, the lights twinkling in the night air in such a way it almost seemed magical.
In the corner was a hot tub, the steam rising in the air beckoning whoever was near to relax within its waters. He looked down at the ground in which both of you were sitting, taking in the blanket and pillows you had set up.
âLooks like I interrupted youâŚIâm sorry,â Felix said softly.
âItâs ok,â you said with a smile. You let a moment pass before opening your mouth once more, curiosity getting the best of you.
âSo umâŚtime travel?â You said gesturing to the air in which Felix fell from.
You wondered where he came from and most importantly why, especially why he landed within your yard.
âUh yeah, Iâm from the future on a mission,â Felix replied, as his hand ran through his blond locks.
âAhh the future. Whatâs your mission?â
Felix hesitated unsure if he should tell you the reason whyâs he here. He decided against it, wanting to get a feel first before diving in. He has a year after all, why rush it.
âI canât tell you that unfortunately,â Felix said apologetically.
You hummed and brushed his statement away, leaving it at that. You knew he would tell you when heâs ready, if at all.
âWell, itâs late and you probably have no where to stay, so you can crash here while you work on your mission if youâd like,â you said as you got up and dusted the dirt from your shorts.
Felix stared at you in shock, surprised you would offer your home to someone you didnât know so readily.
âOh..ok, yeahâŚsure thanks!â
Felix got up as well, reaching down to help you fold the blanket you were sitting on. He followed you to your door, curiosity plastered on his face as you opened the door and stepped into your home.
He was taken aback, the space feeling soâŚhomey. It was decked out in lights, their glow illuminating the space with soft light, making it more intimate. The space radiated a floral scent, one that was intense but surprisingly was not overwhelming in the small space.
Your home was just soâŚyou.
The thought made Felix chuckle in delight.
âWell itâs not much, but this is my home,â you said, gesturing to the small space.
âI like it, itâs very comfortable,â Felix said in earnest.
You smiled and nodded, happy that he liked your little space. You bustled around, making your way to the kitchen.
âTea?â You asked as your hands started dancing through the air, shifting through the options you had in your inventory.
âSure,â Felix said watching as you selected an option, the kettle appearing from thin air onto the stove.
You turned the heat on, the flames licking the bottom of the kettle immediately. Felix watched silently as you bustled around the kitchen, humming a little song as you prepared snacks.
The kettle whistled, the shrill sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. You grabbed two mugs and poured the tea before carefully carrying them to the couch. You gave Felix his, and then brought the snacks over.
Sitting down, you looked at the man next to you. He seemed nervous, his fingers drumming on the cup. Your eyes roamed his body, taking in his little frame, his baby face. He really was cute youâd have to say.
Felix looked up at you suddenly, his eyes meeting yours. You smiled reassuringly, hoping heâd understand he can be himself.
It didnt take long for Felix to open up, his bubbly personality shining through. You listened to him talk about his life in the future, his job where he helps others figure out what they want to do with their lives.
He talks about his friends, how close they are and how theyâve saved him more times than he can count. He even mentioned how he thought he found his soulmate, but apparently it was a mistake, one that is rarely made.
You eyed him, noticing that something was off when he mentioned his soulmate. You couldnât place a finger to it but decided to leave it, knowing heâll tell you the details when heâs ready.
The night passed in conversation, you feeling at home with Felix which was odd since youâve just met him. You looked at the clock and noticed how late it was.
âShit,â you muttered, âI need to get to bed. I work tomorrow.â
Felix nodded and helped you clean up. He knew the night would have to end eventually but heâs sad it did so soon.
âYou can have the couch,â you said as you started making a makeshift bed.
Felix stood in the corner watching as you finished his bed and then went to your closet grabbing a shirt. He took it from your hands gratefully.
âSorry, itâs the biggest I have,â you said sheepishly.
âItâs ok, thanks.â
You nodded, happy he didnât mind the clothes. âWell Iâm going to grab a shower, make yourself at home.â
Felix watched as you grabbed some clothes and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door softly. He heard the shower start, the sound of water hitting the wall.
He sat down on the couch, his eyes roaming around the room. He canât wait to shower you with love, take care of you, after all youâre his soulmate whether youâve realized it or not.
-- --
The next morning, you awakened to the smell of bacon, the scent permeating your home. Your belly growled, signaling you to feed it which made you chuckle.
You stretched and stood up before padding to the kitchen. The sight of Felix at the stove cooking made your heart swell, a smile gracing your face. You stood in the corner and watched him, watching as he tried to finish the meal.
He was struggling a little bit but trying nonetheless, little curses falling from his mouth. Turning around he noticed you, causing him to drop the spoon he was holding.
You chuckled at his clumsiness, bending down to pick up the utensil.
Felix was startled at the sight of you, his cheeks instantly reddening. There you stood in your little sleep shirt and shorts, leaving nothing to the imagination. He could see your tits, your nipples hardened and poking through the silk. His eyes wandered down to your ass, so round and plush within the little shorts.
He looked away in embarrassment as you stood up, spoon in hand. He took it from your hand and went back to finishing up breakfast.
You sat down and waited, your chin in your hand. This was nice, a man cooking for you. A cute one at that. Felix walked over with your plate in hand, setting it down in front of you.
âBon appetite!â He said, bowing slightly.
You giggled and picked up your fork to dig in. The first bite wasâŚinteresting so to say, the taste strong mixed withâŚ
âUmm, Felix? Did you use salt in this?â
Felix looked up at you, his eyes wide. âYeah, I did. Is it too much?â
You shook your head yes, shyly looking down.
Felix put down his fork and bowed his head. âIâm sorry, y/n. Iâll get better I promise. I just wanted to fix something for you after you took me in.â
Now you felt bad, your heart falling at the sight of the little pout that formed on his face. He did work hard to prepare this for you, waking up way before you to do so.
âItâs ok, itâs still good. Letâs dig in ok?â
Felix smiled at your attempt to reconcile, picking up his fork once more. You both ate, enjoying each others company.
Itâs been awhile since youâve had anyone else in the house with you, since you opted to live alone. So it was weird to share such an intimate meal with someone else and a stranger at that.
After eating, you sat back, content that your belly was full.
âThanks for breakfast Felix. I have to get ready for work now. You can make yourself at home though.â
Felix smiled, happy you enjoyed his meal. He watched as you got up and padded away to your closet, your hips swaying with each step.
He got up and started clearing away the dishes, falling into the routine of cleaning. He had everything planned out, and would start his mission once you left for work.
Felix startled as you came up behind him, now fully dressed with your work uniform, your hair nicely done and your makeup complete to perfection
âSorry, didnât mean to startle you. Iâm leaving now. If you need anything while Iâm gone just call. Here Iâll send you my phone number.â
Felix watched as you scrolled through your book, punching in your number and swiping your finger away sending it to his contact list. He pulled it up, staring at the digital screen in front of him. He saved your number, smiling at the name you gave yourself.
He walked to the door with you, standing aways back as you slipped into your shoes. He wished you a good day at work, watching as you softly shut the door behind you.
Felix stood there for a moment more before turning to go back into your home, ready to set his plan in action.
Day after day, week after week, month after month, Felix doted on you. He made your meals, helped around the house, he did anything you wanted him to do.
You had game nights, movie nights, crafting nights. Any type of activity he could do while spending time with you, he did it.
Felix loved spending time with you too. He learned your habits, how you immediately went to the snack cabinet after work. How you liked your baths, the bubbles not too high, the water hot, and with a glass of wine.
He learned that you didnât like scary movies, remembering how you locked yourself in the bathroom after a scene, refusing to come out until he coaxed you out with the promise of cuddles.
That was on the agenda tonight, a movie and cuddles. You snuggled in within Felixâs arms, your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around your body protectively.
You were growing to love these quiet moments, just the two of you in a room illuminated with fairy lights. There was a storm brewing outside, the sound of the wind rattling the windowpane. Fall has rolled in into your little town, therefore, it has rained almost everyday, blanketing the world with the little drops falling from the sky.
However, you didnât mind, being safe and warm within his arms. You nuzzled in, your head rubbing on his chest, causing Felix to look down at you.
âThat tickles,â Felix chuckled, squeezing your arm.
âMm sorry,â you sighed as you repeated your action.
Felix chuckled and returned his attention to the screen. You listened to his heart beating loudly beneath your ear, the rhythm increasing with each passing second.
You smiled at the fact, your eyes traveling back to the movie Felix had picked out to watch. You both went back to watching the movie, the end nearing.
Once the closing scene played, Felix started to shift, causing your head to move. You let out a whine, disgruntled at the fact your pillow was moving.
You slowly got up, your hair disheveled. Felix began laughing, his voice filling your small space as he clutched his stomach. You pouted and swatted at him, crossing your arms in defiance.
Felix wiped the tears from his eyes and pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around your body tightly. He squeezed and rocked you back and forth, ignoring your giggles and protests to let you go.
You felt your heart flutter, the cute but intimate moment making your cheeks flush with a hint of red.
Felix continued to rock you, his breath hot in your ear as he laughed. You know how to make him stop. With renewed vigor, you grabbed his shoulder and bit down lightly, your teeth sinking into his soft skin.
Felix yelped and scooted back, his eyes wide as he looked between you and his shoulder.
âYou bit me!â He accused, as he chuckled.
You shrugged and giggled, getting up from the couch. You were tired and ready to go to bed. Felix watched as you went through your bedtime routine, his eyes following you with every step you took, forgetting about the slight sting on his shoulder.
Occasionally, youâd stop and strike a funny pose, giggling as Felix laughed at your antics. Eventually Felix got up and started getting his bed ready, as you finished up in the bathroom.
You settled into bed and watched as Felix finished his routine. You chuckled as Felix rushed to his bed, complaining that he was cold. He settled in quickly before sitting up and looking your way.
âNight y/n!â
âNight Felix,â you said blowing him a kiss.
You let out a giggle as Felix quickly laid down and covered himself with his blanket as he let out a little squeak. You turned out the light and settled in, closing your eyes to sleep.
The rain was pelting the windows, the sound calming in the dark. You snuggled in, preparing to sleep when a loud crack of thunder rang out, causing the house to vibrate.
Did you hear a scream? Your eyes snapped open as you strained your ears, listening for the sound again.
Time passed and the rain continued to fall. You were about to close your eyes once more when you heard a soft whisper within the room.
âY/n?â Felix whispered, listening for your response.
When you didnât say anything, he repeated his question, calling out to you softly yet a little more loud.
âYes?â You responded, sitting up within your blankets.
âCan I sleep with you? Iâm umâŚI donât really like thunderstormsâŚâ
You could hear the panic in his voice, his voice cracking as he said the last word.
âOf course, come here Lix,â you softly said, pulling back your covers for him to join you.
You felt the bed dip and Felix shuffle beneath the covers, scooting as close as he could to you. You wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head to you as if to comfort him.
Felix was shaking in your arms, his face tucked into your chest. He was embarrassed. How could he be your soulmate, the person whoâs supposed to love and protect you, if heâs scared of a measly thunderstorm?
He closed his eyes and breathed you in, your scent calming him despite the storm outside. Eventually he lifted his head up and looked you in the eyes.
You stared back at him, holding his gaze as you held him close.
âThank you,â Felix whispered, his lip turning upwards as if to smile.
âOf course,â you whispered back, as you slowly stroked his back.
You both laid there, listening to the rain and gazing into each others eyes. You were glad it was dark, that way Felix couldnât see the crimson that littered your cheeks.
The air was charged with want, the need to be close to each other palpable. Felix shuffled closer until his lips were inches away from yours.
You could feel his nose on yours, his ragged breath on your lips as he held onto you. Your heart was beating rapidly, as nerves took over, your palms sweaty as you gripped Felixâs shirt.
âY/n,â Felix whispered before closing the gap between you, his soft lips pressing gently to yours.
He held them there for a moment more before breaking away, a shaky breath leaving his lips.
âFelix,â you whispered as you connected your lips again, wanting to feel his lips on yours again.
the rain pelted the windows, the thunder rang out, and the lighting illuminates the two of you, tucked away within your blankets, bodies pressed against each other as you lazily pressed your lips together.
The moment was soft, gentle, intimate, as if this moment was meant to be.
And in Felixâs mind, it was, without a doubt fate.
After the eventful night embraced in each others arms, kissing the night away, your relationship turned for the better.
Felix was ecstatic as he felt closer to his goal than ever. He was holding your hand, swinging it back and forth as you both walked home from a day of shopping.
He took the opportunity to spoil you, buying you whatever you wanted. He found himself smiling whenever you would thank him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
âI spy something blue!â You exclaimed, squeezing his hand in yours.
Felixâs eyes roamed the street, looking for whatever had caught your eye. Spotting a blue car, his grinned sure he got it this time.
âThat blue car there,â he said as he pointed at the vessel.
âUgh how are you so good at this?â You whined, pouting at the fact that he got another guess right.
Felix shrugged and chuckled. He pulled you along in the direction of your home, wanting to get back as soon as possible.
A few minutes later, you arrived at your home. Felix pressed his finger against the scanner on the door, the box emitting a tune signaling it accepted his fingerprint. You both tumbled into your home, laughing at the joke you had just made.
Felix dropped the bags he was holding and pulled you in for a kiss, swallowing your shriek of surprise. You relaxed instantly in his embrace, matching his pace as he moved his lips with yours.
He pulled away for a moment before pressing a sweet kiss to your lips again and again until you were giggling, your face warm, and heart fluttering at his affection.
âSuch a sweet sound,â Felix cooed as he pressed another kiss to your lips.
âCome on, letâs get the snacks ready! Iâm ready to have a nice soak!â
You both decided to have a relaxing night in your hot tub, the weather not too cold or hot. You began cutting up various fruits and veggies, as Felix gathered some sweets.
âMake sure to get my favorite cookies!â You reminded him as he piled the plate high with a bunch of his homemade brownies.
âRight,â Felix said as he snapped his fingers, hurriedly searching through the inventory for your favorite chocolate cookies.
You chuckled and began plating the food you just cut up. Satisfied with your work, you walked to your closet, reaching in to pull out your swim suit.
You let out a shriek as Felix wrapped his arms around you and peppered wet kisses on your neck, mumbling at how beautiful you were.
You giggled as you attempted to get away, but to no avail as his hold on you was iron tight.
Felix spun you around before crashing his lips to yours, kissing you passionately as he moaned. You let out a whimper as he nipped at your lip, your core dripping with arousal as you clutched onto his shirt.
But, what were you doing? You both really shouldnât be doingâŚwhatever this is.
You pulled away suddenly, ignoring the look of shock on Felixâs face. You grabbed your swimsuit and made your way to the bathroom, letting Felix know youâd meet him outside.
Felix stood rooted in place confused, wondering what he did wrong. He always kisses you like this, shows you this type of affection ever since that night of the storm.
Typically you didnât mind, fully embracing his kisses, cuddles, and teasing. What made you pull back like that?
Felix slowly turned around and began to change, slipping on his swim trunks and tossing his shirt to the side. He went outside and made his way to the hot tub, his mind preoccupied with what just happened.
He lowered himself in the warm water, sighing as he felt his muscles loosen. Shortly after he got in, you came out, slowly making your way to the hot tub.
Felix tried not to ogle at you, at your curves that were accentuated in the swim suit that barely covered anything. He felt his self blush and his cock twitch.
He needed to calm down and not ruin this night. He took a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes, opening them a few moments later feeling renewed.
You placed the snacks down before getting in and sitting next to Felix.
You both sat there in silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Felix traced the bubbles that popped up in the water, his fingers drifting closer to you.
The tension was thick, palpable in the night air. You tried to focus on the bubbles, the way the warm water enveloped your body, but all you could think of was Felix.
Felix with his bubbly self. Felix and how he takes care of you, cooking, cleaning, treating you as if you are the only woman in the world. Felix with his blonde hair that you love to run your fingers through. Felix with the smile that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, your stomach doing flips as he looks at you.
Felix. Felix. Felix. Thatâs all your life has become since youâve met him. Normally you wouldnât care but you realized you were developing feelings for him, which was playing with fire.
You had a soulmate out there and so did Felix and here you both were playing house. You felt the tears form, threatening to spill over any moment as you continued to think of him.
You couldnât do this. Excusing yourself, you got out of the water and walked back to the house. Felix stared after you, his lower lip trembling.
Heâs messed up, big time. You canât even look at him. He stayed a little longer, his mind racing over the last few months and how things were.
He remembers your sweet smile as he cooks yet another amazing meal for you. He remembers your giggles as he spun you around the room, dancing to the slow song on the radio. He remembers your sweet face as he rained kisses down your face and neck, the sweet sounds youâd make as he nipped at your skin.
Things were perfect and he blew it. Wiping the stray tears that had fallen, he gets up and gathers the untouched plates and carries them to the house.
You left the lights on for him, but you yourself were asleep, buried underneath your layers of blankets. He tidied up as quietly as he could and then changed.
He figured you would want your space tonight, so he made his bed on the couch, somewhere he hasnât slept in ages. As he lays down and looks at the ceiling, his heart breaks once more, this time because of his own stupidity.
He has to fix this, make things right. And he needs to do it soon.
Things between you two did not improve. It was the middle of spring with the flowers blooming and most days the rain fell from the sky blanketing the world with a chill that went to the bone.
Felix still resided with you, still made your meals, made sure you had everything you needed. He gave you your space, too scared to approach you and here you tell him to leave for good.
You worked long hours, opting to stay at the office then be with Felix in your small house. You figured if he was out of sight, he couldnât plague you with his puppy dog eyes and sweet pouts as he doted on you.
However, that came to an end when Felix pleaded for you to come back at a decent hour and let him cook for you. You wanted to say no, but then he looked at you with wide eyes, his pink lips in a pout.
As you stared at him, you caved agreeing to his dinner. You tried not to break the facade as he grinned, his eyes sparkling at your acceptance.
You left for work as usual, your mind preoccupied with the little night he had planned for you two. You were nervous, not having spent a night alone with him sinceâŚwell since that one fated fall night.
You willed the day to go slowly, but of course that was not the case, the end of your shift approaching rather quickly.
To make matters worse, your boss let you off early, thinking they were doing you a service to get your weekend started early.
Grabbing your bags, you made your way home, opting to walk instead of riding in a hover car. Approaching your door, you placed your finger on the scanner, the pad turning green.
You stepped in your apartment, taking in the scent of something delicious being cooked in the kitchen. You kicked off your shoes and padded into the kitchen, watching as Felix scampered around the space, adding finishing touches to the meal.
It took him a while to notice you but once he did he yelped, startled at your presence.
âY/n!â Felix said as he rushed to your side.
âWelcome home!â He said as he grasped your hand, ushering you to the kitchen. âSit, sit.â
You sat down and waited as he dished up dinner. You had to admit everything smelled and looked amazing. Felix dished his plate and the sat down.
âWell letâs dig in!â Felix exclaimed as he picked up his fork.
You forked some of the pasta into your mouth, your eyes rolling back at the flavors as they burst on your tongue. You recovered quickly as you continued to shovel food into your mouth. How could you be mad at this man when he cooks like this?
Felix watched from the corner of his eyes, pleased that you enjoyed his meal. He needed tonight to go well. He would reveal it all to you, his purpose, his reason.
Halfway through the meal, he decided to begin, thinking it was as good a time as ever.
âY/n, can we talk?â
You put your fork down and looked at Felix. Here we go, you thought.
âI want to explain to you why Iâm here.â Felix took a deep breath before continuing on. âIâm from the future and if you remembered, my soulmate was actually not mines but someone elseâs. The matchmakers proposed I go back in time to find my true soulmate, to start over almost. To findâŚyou.â
Silence rang out through the space, neither of you saying a word.
Felix was your soulmate? Felix is yourâŚ
Maybe thatâs why it just always felt good, felt right with him. Why you always trusted him.
Felix is your soulmate.
You felt your heart beat, your cheeks flush, as you fumbled with your fingers. You didnât dare look at Felix, ashamed at how youâve treated him over the last few months.
Shit. What a mess this is.
âY/n?â Felix inquired cautiously.
âSorry. I was just processing everything.â
You truly were, your brain trying to wrap around the fact that you found your soulmate.
âIâm sorry. I just felt like you should know. The timing felt right.â
You nodded agreeing. You got up and started clearing the dishes, your mind reeling with his words. Felix helped you, working silently along you.
After you set the dishes down, you turned and almost bumped into him. You muttered an apology and cautiously looked him in the eye.
Felix stared back at you, his lips parted. You watched as a strand of his hair fell in his face. His beautiful, perfect face. You stood still as he came closer, until he wrapped his arms around your waist.
You both stood there in your kitchen, gazing into each otherâs eyes, taking in every detail, of the need and lust hidden behind the orbs.
You held your breath as Felix leaned forward to connect his lips to yours, the feeling so familiar, as if he was welcoming you home.
Your lips moved together softly, gently, neither one of you in a rush. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing the hairs there as he deepened the kiss.
Felix moaned as his tongue met yours, the two appendages tangling together in a passionate dance. He needed more of you. He trailed his hands down your waist, your thighs, tapping the flesh to signal you to jump.
You caught on and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. Felix walked you to your bed, his lips on yours whenever he got the chance.
Right as he got to your bedroom, he tripped over his feet, dropping you in the process. You landed on your back, shocked as Felix tumbled onto the floor.
âOh my god! Are you ok?â You asked, scrambling to peer over the edge of the bed.
âIâm fine,â Felix responded, his face red in embarrassment.
You chuckled, not believing that just happened. Felix looked at you in shock, his embarrassment increasing so much so his ears turned red.
âOh come here,â you giggled pulling him on top of you.
You crashed your lips on his, smiling as he immediately reciprocated. You lost yourself in his kisses as his hands wandered your body, trailing his fingertips along your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake.
Felix moaned as he cupped your breasts, massaging the flesh gently. He could feel his cock swell, straining against the fabric of his boxers. He ground his hips into yours, his bulge nudging your clothed core.
You whimpered at the feel of him, canting your hips up into his, silently begging for more. Felix leaned back and shucked his shirt and sweats off and made his way to you, helping you rid yourself of your clothes.
You laid bare before him, your chest heaving as you panted, your slick leaking out of your pussy.
Felix gazed down at your body, feeling like he was in heaven.
âSo beautiful and all mine,â he whispered as he parted your legs to slot himself between them.
He connected his lips to yours once more as he grasped his cock, running it through your folds. You were so wet, your slick coated his length as he teased you over and over.
âPlease Lix,â you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck.
You let out a groan as he slowly pushed in, his cock sending shocks of pain through your core as he stretched you open. You whimpered as he continued to push in, slowly, gently until he was completely inside you, his cock sheathed snuggly in your warm walls.
âAre you ok?â Felix asked, concern laced in his eyes.
You nodded and swiveled your hips, silently begging him to move. Felix grinned before pulling out just to push back in right. Over and over and thrusted into you, the pain transitioning to pleasure as he fucked you.
He watched you with every thrust, not wanting to miss your moans, your little pants, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he hit your sweet spot over and over.
âTaking me so well love. God I love you y/n.â Felix groaned as he snapped his hips into yours.
He wasnât going to last long, not with how you clenched around him, how you whispered his name. He reached down to thumb at your clit, grinning as you let out a squeal at the added pleasure.
âThatâs it love, feels good doesnât it?â Felix teased as he circled the bud, adding more pressure as he dragged his cock within your walls.
You looked up at Felix, how flushed he looked above you as he fucked you, as your walls took him like you were made for him. You felt more arousal gush out of you as you remembered you were made for him.
You were his. He was yours.
And as your mind flooded with that thought, the way his finger thumbed your clit, at how he fucked you just right, your orgasm washed over you causing you to let out a straggled moan.
Your walls clenched around him rhythmically as you came, driving him insane. Felix let out a growl as he stilled his hips against yours, his cum flooding your walls.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, mumbling âyou're mine,â again and again.
âIâm yours,â you breathed out as you came down within your lovers arms.
The days passed into summer, each day a treat with Felix by your side. You both have found each other and that was something to celebrate on a daily basis.
Felix showered you with love, waking you up with kisses as he slid between your thighs, making love to you as the sun rose in the sky, bathing you both with its warm light.
He made sure you were well fed, that you wanted for nothing. He peppered you with kisses whenever he could, loving how you would giggle as he kissed your nose, your cheeks, your lips, your neck.
Life was good which is something you havenât been able to say in a long time. â â You both sat in bed one morning, tangled in each others embrace. As you slid your fingers through his hair, you hummed a little song, happy and content.
Felix lifted his head up and smiled. âWhat has my love so happy this morning?â
âHmm maybe you,â you chuckled as you pulled him close.
âNow why is that I wonder,â he teased as he pressed a kiss to your lips and pushed his cock within you.
âAh Felix!â You groaned as he rocked his hips into yours, slow and gentle as the wind gently blew through your open window.
Felix buried his head in your neck as he brought both of you to your highs, your fingers playing with his hair.
âY/n, this pussy, your sweet pussy.â Felix moaned as your pussy clenched around him.
âYouâre mine!â He growled as he bite into the side of your neck, soothing the area with his tongue afterwards.
âIâm yours!â You whimpered as you came, wrapping your legs around him.
Felixâs hips stuttered as he reached his climax, his seed painting your walls white in the early morning hours.
He collapsed on top of you, steadying his breath as he came down. You both laid there in silence, basking in each otherâs afterglow.
âSo what happens now?â You asked breaking the silence. âDo I come back with you? To the future?â
Felix thought for a moment. Deep down he knew what he had to do, but he didnât want to leave you. What if it doesnât work and he doesnât see you again in the future?
No, he wasnât going to take that chance. He would bring you with him.
âCome with me. We can go back together.â
You considered his words for a moment. You didnât want to part with him, so going with him seemed like the best option.
âHmmm ok,â you agreed.
âLetâs get dressed and we can go back to the agency and see what we can do.â
You agreed and got up with him. You both showered and got dressed quickly, not wanting to waste any more time.
Felix hailed a hover car and you both got in, directing the driver to go to the agency. Once there, Felix ushered you quickly to the matchmakerâs office, hoping to see Mavis.
He grinned when he saw her, running up to the woman and accidentally startling her.
âMr. Lee! What are you doing here?â
âI was successful Mavis! I found my soulmate. Weâre ready to go back!â
Mavis looked over his shoulder and saw you standing a ways back, swaying back and forth slightly.
âAh, I can see that,â Mavis said with approval. âCome with me.â
She led both of you to the room Felix was in before, the Time Machine familiar this time around.
âAlright, get in,â Mavis said gesturing towards the glass box.
Felix grabbed your hand and pulled you into the box. Once settled, Felix gave Mavis the thumbs up, signaling you both were ready.
Mavis nodded and pressed a few more buttons, the buzzing sound Felix remembered from last time intensifying.
Felix turned to you and pressed a kiss to your lips.
âI love you,â he whispered.
âI love you too,â you gushed as you squeezed his hand.
The air began to ripple, the room began to disintegrate. The air became thin, both of you gasping for breath as a pain hit your stomachs.
Felix closed his eyes briefly as he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He squeezed your hand in earnest, hoping it would be over soon.
However, time passed and the feeling remained.
Something wasnât right.
Felix opened his eyes and stared ahead in horror as his eyes took in the vast emptiness. You were still with him, gripping his hand as tight as you could, your face laced with pain.
âY/n!â He said, wrapping you in his arms.
Felix looked around. You were both in an empty space, nothing was around. No people, no buildings, no trees. Nothing.
He felt like he was going to throw up, the pain in his chest slowly dissipating, but not fast enough.
You both sank to your knees, kneeling on air, clutching each other.
How is this possible? Where are you? Was there a malfunction with the machine?
Felix screamed for help, pleading, begging for anyone to help him. To help you.
But to his horror, no one came to the rescue, both of you trapped in some type of glitch.
Felix held you in his arms, glancing at your beautiful face. At least he had you, his soulmate.
Thatâs why he went back into he past in the first place right?
To find his soulmate and here you were with him, in his arms.
His soulmate, someone he can love for eternity and you both had eternity now locked in whatever place you were in.
He brushed your hair away from your face, and gazed into your beautiful brown eyes and whispered
âI love you.â
Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground
#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#felix smut#felix x reader#lee felix smut#lee felix x reader#stray kids fluff#felix fluff#stray kids angst#felix angst#skz smut#skz x reader#lee felix fluff#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#skz angst#stray kids x you#stray kids
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Food, Football, and Friends - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish story
Summary: With so many people coming over for Thanksgiving dinner, it's no surprise things get a little chaotic.
Note: Happy Thanksgiving!
Warnings: chaos that is typical of this family, Eddie's breeding kink doesn't take a holiday off, Dustin is married to someone that is not Suzy sorry
Words: 3.7k
[As You Wish masterlist]
Not bothering to knock, Steve opens the front door to the Munson household and pops his head inside.
âThis looks like a nice house,â he says as he pushes the door all the way open. âMight be able to steal something nice.â
A huff comes from behind him and Mia pushes in the house past her father. The six-year-old scowls as she leans down to unbuckle her shiny Mary Janes.
âWeâre not thieves!â Her voice carries throughout the house, summoning the little person who has been waiting all day to see her.
âMiaaaaaa!â Elizaâs heavy tread thumps down the hallway as she runs into the living room at full speed. The friction of her white tights against the carpet halts her when she reaches her destination.Â
Before Mia can answer, Steve crouches down in front of the youngest Munson. He frowns and tilts his head, a few chestnut locks falling in his eyes.
âWhat about me? Am I chop liver?âÂ
Your toddler giggles and leaps into her uncleâs arms. She wraps her arms around his neck for a hug, but before she can pull away, Steve stands up, hoisting her over his shoulder in an attempt to keep her from her best friend.
âNoooo!â Eliza whines, her little legs kicking.Â
âOh, fine,â Steve sighs as he lets her down.
Eliza straightens her black and white dress before looking up to see Wayne walk in the door right behind Nancy.
âGrandpa!â
âThereâs my girl!â
Wayne scoops her up and peppers kisses all over her face. The small girl giggles and tries to push his face away, his scruff tickling her.
âWhereâs Daddy?â Wayne asks.
âDunno,â Eliza answers with a shrug.
âHeâs outside,â Luke says as he strolls into the room.
Nancy canât help but notice how her youngestâs face lights up when the twelve-year-old Munson walks into the room. She clamps her lips together, trying not to giggle at Miaâs adorable crush on Luke, acting like she doesnât notice the hearts in the young redheadâs eyes.
âShould we lock him out?â Steve asks about your husband.
Wayne sighs. âEh, heâs scrappy, heâll find a way back in,â he says as he sets Eliza back down.Â
The moment her feet hit the ground, the toddler runs over to Mia and throws her arms around the girlâs sparkly silver dress. Concentration on Luke broken, Mia laughs and falls to the ground with Eliza, giving her a hug in return.Â
âYeah,â Steve says as he watches the girls. âI think the little munchkin would let him in.â He nods towards Eliza.
âShe canât reach the door,â Danny points out to his dad.
âEliza finds a way to do anything,â Luke says, his tone conveying all the experience heâs had in that regard.
Before anyone else can add to the conversation, the sound of clinking and clanging pots and pans rings out from the kitchen. Automatically, everyone's heads turn in that direction.Â
âShit!â Your voice echoes out into the living room.
Immediately, Nancy brushes past her husband, patting him on the chest as she goes by.
âPlay nice,â she tells him as she continues into the kitchen. The sight before Nancy has her biting her lip to keep in a grin for the second time in a matter of minutes. There you stand, holding a pot lid in one hand, holding the top of your head in the other. Your friend cocks an eyebrow at you. âEverything okay in here?â
Lamely, you raise the pot lid and give her a small wave with it.
âGave myself a concussion looking for this so the mashed potatoes better taste damn near perfect.â
âIâm sure they will,â Nancy assures you, coming closer to take the lid out of your hand. She gently sets it on the pot simmering on the stove and turns back to you. âAnything I can do to help?â
Steveâs voice booms out from the living room before you can respond.
âYouâre on, Munson!â
Eyes rolling skyward, you heave a sigh and shake your head.
âKeep our husbands from injuring themselves before dinner?â you ask.
âIâm afraid not.â Nancy winces. Itâs an impossible task, you both know that.
As you open the refrigerator to grab the milk, Luke runs into the roomânever one for just walkingâwith a grin on his face.Â
âWeâre going to play football!â he announces.
You raise an eyebrow as you measure out the cup of milk to add to the mashed potatoes.
âWho exactly is âwe?â you ask.
âMe, Ryan, Theo, Danny, Uncle Steve, Grandpa, DaddyâŚand uh, maybe Natalie.â
The mention of your husband has you turning to give your son your full attention, letting the measuring glass of milk clank down on the counter.
âYour father is going to play football?â
âHeâs gonna try,â Luke says with a mischievous snicker. You completely agree with your sports-loving sonâs disbelieving and amused tone. Youâre not even sure Eddie knows what the different positions in football are called.
âIs that what he and Steve were bickering about?â Nancy crosses her arms over her chest and rests her hip against the edge of the kitchen table.
âYeah,â he affirms. âMia is gonna stay in the living room with Liza.â
âLuke, come on!â Theo calls out.
âMy daughter is a little mother hen,â Nancy says with a smile as Luke runs out to join his new team. Mia may be the youngest sibling in her family, but that means she takes the responsibility of having a toddler best friend very seriously.Â
Noise clatters from your backyard and you take a few steps to look out the large window over the kitchen sink. Through it, you can see Steve and Eddie standing next to each other, pointing at the mass of children that are in front of themâall of them except Ryan and Natalie.
âCome on, it will be fun,â Ryan says from the next room just as youâre wondering about him.
The unmistakable sigh of a teenage girl is heard before Natalie agrees, âFine.â
Their footsteps fade out the door and Nancy raises her brow at you.
âIâm impressed,â she says. âNo one can get Natalie to do anything anymore.â
âHormones?â you ask, turning back to the stove as some boiled water sloshes over the side of a pot. The steam hisses and floats off into the air.
âOh, yeah. Having a teenage daughter is great.â
âOof, I do not miss being a teenager,â you say.
âWhat, you stopped, like, last year?âÂ
You spin around to see Nancy smirking at you, and you whip your kitchen towel at her in an attempt to wipe the shit eating grin off her face. She laughs and swats the rag away, affectionately wrapping an arm around your waist as she comes to stand beside you.
âCome on, now let me help you,â she chides.
âFine,â you relent. âWant to chop those carrots?â
âNo problem.â
Loud footfalls stampede towards the kitchen, but theyâre not quite as heavy as Elizaâs usually are, so youâre not surprised when Mia comes racing into the kitchen. One of these times these running children are going to hurt themselves.
âAuntieeee?â she asks you as she comes to a stop.
âMiaaaaaa?â
âEliza is hungry,â she tells you. âCan I get her a snack?â
âSure thing, cutie.â You wipe your hands off on the towel and walk over to the pantry. The Cheerio box is right at eyelevel as you reach for it and hand it to Mia. âJust make sure she doesnât eat too many, okay?â
âOkay!â she calls over her shoulder as she runs out with the box.
Just as youâre about to reach for a knife, the doorbell rings. You head out to the living room, smiling when you see Eliza and Mia sitting in front of the television, sharing Cheerios and watching the rerun of the Thanksgiving Day Parade. The big Snoopy balloon passes by as you grab the doorknob. There stand Lucas and Max with their daughter Tiffany, and Dustin with his wife Anne and their baby girl, Molly. The moment she sees you, Tiffany launches herself forward with a squeal. She wraps her arms around your hips and hugs herself against your body.
âWell, hello there,â you greet her. To allow everyone else into the house, you pick up the six-year-old and take a few steps back from the door. âYou wanna join Eliza and Mia?â When she nods, you let Tiffany down to go join the other girls.
The moment your arms are free, youâre being pulled into more hugs with everyone and wishes for a happy Thanksgiving. Last but not least, you pluck Molly from her motherâs arms and give her a big kiss on the cheek.
âI canât believe how big she is!â you coo. Now well over a year old, the last time you saw the youngest Henderson was when she was nine months.Â
Dustin grabs her walker from the car, since sheâs still new to the whole walking thing and not the steadiest. He sets it down in the living room and you plop her down in the Minnie Mouse themed rover. She instantly takes off in the direction of the television, as if knowing she wants to be a part of this little girl gang.
âEliza?â you call. âDo you want to come say hi?â
It takes her a second, but finally, Eliza finishes the Cheerio thatâs in her hand and pushes herself up on to her feet. She toddles over, smiling when she sees her Aunt Maxâwho is arguably her favorite person who is not a Munson or Harrington. Her aunt gives her a big hug. Then, Eliza stops in front of Dustin. Saying nothing, she just stares up at him, her big brown eyes blinking a few times.
âHi, Eliza!â When your daughter doesnât answer, Dustin kneels down to be at her level. âRemember me? Uncle Dustin?â
She just keeps staring.
Lucas laughs at the little girlâs nonreaction and snatches her up into his own arms. âMwah!â he presses a kiss to her cheek. Instantly, Eliza grins and wraps her arms around his neck for a hug.
Dustin pouts up at the scene before him, lower lip jutting out dramatically as he stands back up.
âHey! Iâm the cool uncle!â he protests. And itâs true; if the other kids were in the house right now, theyâd all be climbing over Dustin until the poor man gets lost in a sea of children.
âGuess not anymore,â Lucas says with a shrug.
âItâs gotta be because I live further away,â Dustin argues. âShe sees me less.â
âSure,â Lucas says, his tone far from sincere.
Max rolls her eyes at the two menâs bickering, presumably tired of it after hearing it for almost a decade and a half. The redhead takes Eliza from her husbandâs arms and turns to face Dustinâs wife.
âThese stilly boys,â Max says to Eliza. âSay hi to your Aunt Anne?â
Your daughter gives a small wave, but itâs clear from the blank look on her face that she just wants to be put down to go back to Mia. Sensing this as well, Max grants her wish.
âWhereâs Ed?â Dustin asks.
âIn the backyard,â you say. âPlaying football.â
âFootball?â Dustin almost chokes on his own spit out of shock.
âI know,â you say.
âI have to see this,â Lucas says, looking towards the back door and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.Â
He and Dustin go to join the game in the backyard while Max and Anne follow you into the kitchen. Nancy greets the new arrivals while you take up your previous position at the stove. As you lift the lid off the pot on the back burner, you listen to the women behind you talking and laughing. It brings a smile to your face to be surrounded by women friends. Besides a two-year-old, the only others in the house are guys. And as much as you love them, itâs not the same as having other ladies around.
Two sets of running feet zoom past the kitchen and the sound of the squeaky hinges on the backdoor let you know the two six-year-olds have gone to join the fun outside. You peek back out the window and chuckle to yourself when you see Mia and Tiffany cheering on the sidelines. Unsurprisingly, they seem to be cheering for the team that Luke is on. Miaâs idea, no doubt.
There are only a few more potatoes to add to the pot in front of you, so once those are in you go out into the living room to check on the younger girls. A gasp strangles out of you when you first see the two. Then as your brain has a moment to adjust and see that everything is okay, you break out into laughter.
âWhat did you do, little girl?â you ask your daughter. You shake your head in amusement as you walk over to the two of them, both covered in Cheerios that are also scattered around the living room floor.
Eliza grins up at you, small pieces of Cheerios still sticking to her baby teeth.
âMolly hungry!â she tells you.
âOh, okay,â you say with a nod. âSo, you thought to give her a snack like Mia did for you?â
âMhmm!â She sounds quite proud of herself, and it makes your heart melt.
âWell, that was very thoughtful of you.â
Laughter erupts from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to see Max walking into the room. She takes in the mess before her and looks between the two babies.
âWhatâre you troublemakers doing?â she asks as she comes up beside you.Â
A timer in the kitchen drags your attention away from the conversation and Max waves you on in that direction.
âGo ahead, take care of that. Iâll clean this up, then take these two outside. They can be the referees.â
âThank you.â You give Maxâs shoulder an appreciative squeeze as you walk past her.
Back in the kitchen, you turn off the timer and pull the green bean casserole out of the oven.Â
Cheers ring in from the backyard, bringing a smile to your face. Anne steps up to look out the window at everyone.
âI think Iâm going to go make sure no one is doing anything stupid,â she says.
âNurse is never off duty, huh?â Nancy asks with a smile.
When Anne steps out of the room, you turn to Nancy and raise an eyebrow.Â
âShe wants to make sure no one is doing anything stupid?â you ask. âShe clearly doesnât know that is most of what our husbands do.â
Nancy laughs and nods her head in agreement.
âWe should keep her here as an on-call nurse.â
âSheâd be busier here than in the ER,â you joke.Â
You and Nancy work silently side by side for a little while, before Nancy notices you starting to buzz around the kitchen more, a hectic mood settling over you. She licks over her lips before looking in your direction.
âIs something burning?â she asks.
âWhat?â
You whip your head around to stare at her before looking at the stove.Â
âSmell it?â she asks, grabbing a paper towel to wipe her hands off on.
You take a few deep inhales, and a frown pinches your face.
âNo,â you admit.
âThatâs because thereâs nothing burning,â Nancy says, taking a few steps closer to you. She rests her hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye. âBut it got you to take some deep breaths. Take a few more, okay?â
Catching on to her scheme, you narrow your eyes at her as you do indeed take a few more deep breaths.
âYouâre sneaky,â you tell her.
âI have to be with four kids,â she replies.Â
Itâs not long before the game outside comes to an end and people start coming back into the house in waves. Eddie finally comes in and your heart stutters in your chest when you see him. His face is flushed from the exertion, his breathing a little labored for the same reason. His hair is frizzier than usual and when he comes closer to you, you can feel the chill coming off of him. Itâs only confirmed when you put your hands on his cheeks and feel how cool they are to the touch. His smile makes you dizzy, not even registering how cold his lips are against yours when he leans in for a kiss.
âEverything smells good,â he mumbles against your mouth.
âDid you win?â you ask, reluctantly going to check on the turkey.
His sigh tells you the answer before his words do.
âI donât wanna talk about it,â he grumbles.
Both you and Nancy share a chuckle as he sulks out of the room. Ryan pops in right after, going over to the sink to wash his hands. His face is flushed like his fatherâs, but his hair is faring far better. Wayne, Theo, and Danny come in behind your son and Wayne goes into the fridge to grab water bottles for all the boys.
âCan I help?â Ryan asks you as he dries his hands.
âOf course, sweetheart.â You press a kiss to his head as you slip by him to grab the salt. âDo you want to get started on the stuffing?â
âSure.â
Danny wrinkles up his nose as he takes a sip of his water.
âCooking is for girls,â the eight-year-old declares.
âDanny!â Nancy immediately snaps.Â
âHey,â Wayne says, nudging the boy on the shoulder. âI was a cook in the army. That donât sound girly, does it?â
Danny shakes his head, looking cowed.
âNo,â he says softly.
âWhat do you say?â Nancy asks.
âIâm sorry.â
Ryan ruffles the boyâs hair before pretending to spill the bowl of breadcrumbs heâs carrying all over him. Danny laughs and runs away before Ryan can actually make a mess of him.
âHey, all available squirts!â Eddie calls from the next room.
âIâm not available,â Ryan mumbles, obviously not keen on whatever his father has planned.
Luke trails into the kitchen and looks around, confused like he hasnât lived there for years.
âUh, Iâm supposed to set the table. Whereâs the stuffs?â he asks.
âBy yourself?â you ask, showing him where you already have the cookery and cutlery out and ready to go.
âNope.âÂ
Luke lets out a small chuckle but before you can ask whatâs so funny, Mia follows in behind him. Itâs clear she volunteered to be your sonâs assistant.
âIâm here to help!â she announces.Â
Carefully, you load up both kids with as much as you think theyâre able to handle. Luckily, a parade of other small humans comes in to finish the job.
âQuite the operation youâve got going here,â you say to your husband as you step into the dining room. âPutting the kids to work.â
âTheyâre my elves,â he says with a shrug.Â
You giggle and press a kiss to his cheek before walking back into the kitchen.
Ryan and Natalie amble in, neither looking too happy. Eddie doesnât ask why; he knows theyâll tell him.
âI donât want to sit at the kidsâ table,â Ryan whines. For a fourteen-year-old, Eddie thinks Ryan gripes more than his literal baby sister.
Natalie looks at the adult table, then at the kidsâ table. There are nine chairs seated at each and sheâs clearly trying to figure out how two can be added to the larger table.
âMe neither,â she says while mentally calculating.Â
Lucas steps into the room behind the teens and Eddie sees a great opportunity.Â
âOkay, you guys can sit with us,â he tells them. âAs long as you contribute to the conversation.â
âReally?â Natalie asks, instantly perking up. It amazes Eddie how quickly she goes from looking like Wednesday Addams to Pippi Longstocking.
âYeah,â Eddie says. He looks over at his former Hellfire Club member and nods at him. âBy the way Lucas, did you see that the DOW is down three points today?â
Lucas doesnât miss a beat.
âHuh,â he muses. âYou know, I was just talking to my broker about that over a rousing game of golf. He suggested I take another look at my portfolio.â
âUgh fine, weâll sit at the kidsâ table,â Ryan groans.
The two of them slink off to the other side of the room as Eddie and Lucas share a quiet laugh.
âDonât even know if I got all the terms right,â Lucas admits.
Eddie, Ryan, Nancy, and Max all help you take the food out to the tableâwell, tables. Eliza watches it all as Wayne settles her in her highchair at the kidsâ table. Sheâs practically salivating as her chocolate eyes move from dish to dish. Even Mia taking the seat between her and Luke doesnât take her attention from her dinner.Â
Annie settles Molly into her own highchairâElizaâs old one that she outgrew. When Eddie had gotten it out of the garage both of you got a little misty-eyed that your daughter is getting so big.
The turkey is placed at the head of the table, right in front of Eddieâs seat. He picks up the large carving knife and Luke over-dramatically gasps from his place at the kidsâ table. You finish scooping some mashed potatoes onto Elizaâs plate and playfully tug on one of Lukeâs curls.
Eddie glances up from time to time, watching as you make sure each kid has a little bit of everything on the plate in front of them.Â
âYouâre gonna lose a finger, boy,â Wayne warns. The older man smiles though, at the way his nephew looks at his wife.Â
Eddie sets the knife down and discreetly pops the wishbone out of the bird. If he doesnât set it aside now all the kids will be arguing over it and Eddie isnât sure thereâs enough wine in the house to deal with that. This way, Eddie can show the kids the carved-up turkey and point to where the wishbone âshould beâ and shrug, telling them theyâre out of luck. He looks forward to using it with you after the kids go to bed.Â
You giggle as Molly reaches up and puts a dab of cranberry sauce on your nose. Eddie grins as he watches you. He had thought that seeing you with a baby wouldnât hit him in quite the same way after Eliza was born, but it hasnât quelled the yearning.Â
Taking advantage of the kids grabbing the rolls in a frenzy, he slips the wishbone into his pocket. He already knows what his wish will be.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#older!eddie#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWs
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loner ! minho - drabble
you've observed him in your classes. he's hot. he's always by himself. little did you know he was fascinated with you too...
-contains mature themes (risky sex oops)
minho's in your class. he's there almost for every single lecture. never skipping unless he didn't show up to uni.
theres something about him that makes your heart race. maybe because you were just like him. the silent ones in the class who mostly sat right at the back where you could be at peace and avoid most interactions.
somehow the two of y'all never sat together, sometimes sitting on opposite ends of the small class or maybe on the bench infront. you watch him at times whenever the lesson content gets boring. taking in the sight of him paying attention.
was he really paying attention or was he just lost in his thoughts?
were you ever in his thoughts?
did you ever make an appearance in his mind?
.
.
its a long day. back to back lectures since 8 in the morning and you're tired. this time your class was being held in a small private classroom that nearly no one knew about except the people in this specific class.
neatly taking off your shoes outside the carpetted stairway.
noticing the larger pair of combat boots that are tucked away from all the other shoes.
mindlessly you keep your shoes near his. because he had mindlessly been doing that for the past few weeks. placing his shoes next to yours.
silently entering the class, only to realise you had losf track of time in the canteen. 10 mins since your class had begun and here you were.
heart thumping nervously at all the eyes on you, as you quietly scutter to an empty chair. the teacher has made all of y'all sit in a semi circle. for more integration and freedom.
and you find yourself seated directly across minho. taking in the sight of him entirely as your professor absentmindedly continues talking about something.
your eyes can't help but trail down to his hands. watching him crack his knuckles and adjust the rings he wore on his digits.
the black shirt complimenting his physique and his leisure way of sitting making your stomach churn with arousal.
why were you finding him so ravishing today? seeing him so upfront worked wonders on your imaginative brain.
blinking slowly as you thought of how his fingers would feel against your body. maybe even between your legs...
blushing heavily when he glances at you briefly. and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see him hide a smirk.
.
.
class is over and you're about to leave when you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. and you're quick to turn around.
masking on a kind smile which immediately falters.
"wait back with me..." its him.
bag slinging across his shoulder as he stands beside you. quietly waiting for everyone to leave. with a long stride, he closely the door of the classroom. latching it smoothly and for a second you think he's uncomfortable with you.
what if he noticed how obvious you were.
"u-uh is everything o-okay?" you mumble, taking a few steps back when he stands in front of you. minimizing the gap as much as possible.
"i don't know, you tell me..." he lets out, tilting his head with intent. your mouth opens and closes. going speechless and every single coherent thought escaping your mind.
"...i d-don't know" you stutter unconciously. struggling to maintain eye contact with him. looking anywhere but at his eyes.
"do you...." he starts off. clearing his throat before looking at the latched door for a second, turning to purse his lips at you in a somewhat shy manner.
your bag sliding off one of your shoulder's and falling on the ground with a soft thud when he holds your chin.
making you look up at him the whole time.
"do you want to eat ramyeon...with me?"
minho whispers. purposefully leaning closer to breath heavy on your parted lips. your own breath shaking as you unconciously refuse to create a gap between y'all.
"or am i just eye candy for you?" he adds with a playful tone.
"no! i mean...n-no. you're more than just...that"
you mumble, cheeks heating up furiously. eye candy? that meant he knew you were watching him.
"well this eye candy's wondering if you just wanna keep staring at him or instead do something about it..."
.
.
.
"is this what you were dreaming of"
minho whispers huskily, hand stuffed down your pants. pulling you higher up on his lap. fingers tracing over your cunt. your nervousness dying down when he touches you like he's meant to be the only one touching you so intimately.
"m-sorry" you whimper. feeling concerned with yourself for imagining such vile things. filthy dirty thoughts during innocent moments.
"no baby, this is what i dreamt of too"
rubbing his middle and ring finger up against your folds. teasingly feeling up your clit. knowing that this was the first time you'd let anyone touch you like this.
"dreamt of dirtier things...so fucking filthy"
slipping his digit past your entrance and you keen. stomach burning with the unfamiliar intrusion.
"thought of you riding me on one of these stupid chairs" minho breathes out. curling his digits upwards to rub your walls. grunting when you grind down on his fingers.
"m-me too...wanted to ride you...want to ride you"
you gasp out, covering your mouth at the risks y'all were taking. an empty locked classroom.
"your s-shoes" and he smiles.
"you noticed. couldn't get over the size difference"
he teases, pulling his fingers out to lick them seductively. deciding to draw fast rough circles on your clit. stimulating the bundle of nerves so fast that you shake in his hold.
"don't you have class?" he asks, knowing damn well that right now class was the last thing on your mind.
"i have you." you moan, praying that luck ws on your side and that you'd get the time to taste him...
.
.
.
.
.
inspired by the dream i had last night AAAAAAA im screaming without the s-
#loner minho#god i love this concept#SO MUCH MY GOSH#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz drabbles#lee know smut#lee minho smut#bang chan smut#stray kids headcanons#minho smut#lee minho imagines#lee minho hard thoughts#lee know hard thoughts#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#fluffylino's masterlist#fluffylino works
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Set My Mind Free
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!Reader
Summary: â'Just wanted toâŚ' You rolled your eyes, trying to explain yourself, 'After our conversation last weekâyou and meâI thought it was only fair. I mean, he waited by me, right? So what kind of Sergeant would I be if I didnât look out for him? Just repaying his...kindness.'â
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) oral (f receiving), p in v sex, intercrural sex, dirty talk, praise, very mild degradation, canon typical violence, detailed descriptions of wounds, allusions to PTSD, reader experiences a very detailed panic attack, discussion of panic attacks/anxiety, discussion of drug use and addiction (not reader), implied age gap (ages not mentioned), enemies to frenemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, I know little to nothing about how the military works, if I missed anything please let me know!!
AN: Part 1 here!!
By 4:00 AM, youâd stopped crying and told yourself that you would go to sleep.
But by 5:00 AM you were still awake, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the faint rhythm of your heart.
There was nothing you could do.
There was one thing you could doâbut it required a sense of decency, and a level of respect that you worried wouldnât translate properly from your brain to your mouth.
You didnât know what you would say, if there was anything to say at all, and yet you still felt the urge to find Simon.
But he was probably asleep, just like everybody else on base, and likely in no mood to see you if he was up.
And you were worried how youâd act, seeing him at his lowest.
After several minutes of going back and forth between your limited options, you slipped out of bed, donning a sweatshirt and making sure you remembered shoes this time around. You grabbed the shirtâmaybe heâd take it back now that he knew what it was like.
You puttered inside your room for a moment longer, hesitating, before you found the nerve to open your door and walk down the hall to the infirmary.
It was dark out, but the floods outside forced streaks of light into the barracks. You could hear nothing but your own footsteps, and the fact that nobody else was awake to see you like this; hair stuck to your temples from the tears youâd shed, carrying a blood-soaked shirt to a man who probably didnât want to see anybodyâleast of all youâwas reassuring.
You braced yourself for the grating sound of the infirmary doors against the floor, pushing them open slowly to keep the unnecessary racket at bay.
He was asleep in the same cot you had been in, and he managed to make it look even more cramped than it had felt when youâd been in it: lying on his back, heâd propped his head up with the single pillow heâd been offered, clearly trying to keep his feet from dangling off the end of the mattress.
It didnât work, and he still had to bend at the knee to fit in the cot properly.
Heâd been stripped from the waist up, and the left side of his abdomen was covered in gauze and bandages that likely concealed stitches over an ugly wound. But he still looked beautiful, and you kicked yourself for even daring to allow the thought to run through your head.
He still had his mask on. Of course he did.
You situated yourself in the same seat Gaz had been sitting in when youâd woken up, setting the shirt to the side and just looking at him.
Thatâs all you could do. Look.
You wouldnât wake him up. You had nothing to say. And even if you did wake him, it was unlikely heâd be able to say anything of substance with all the morphine they probably had him on
So you sat quietly, staring at him; his mask, his bandages. Your wounds were in the same place, which meant nothing, but it still filled you with a profound sense of awe, a subtle yanking in your abdomen.
âFigured youâd come by.â Ghostâs voice broke through the silence of the infirmary, and you flinched.
âFuckingâChrist, Simon,â you sighed, gripping your thighs as you collected yourself, âHow long have you been awake?â
He stared up at you, ignoring your question. âPick a new name yet?â When you looked at him quizzically, he elaborated, âNot Berserker anymore?â
âOhâno,â you had forgotten about wanting to change your callsignâtoo many things had been plaguing your mind, pushing your concern about a name to the back. âStill Berserker. For now.â
The conversation fizzled out, but you didnât want it to end. You blurted the first thing that came to mind.
âI never thanked you.â
âFor?â He seemed oddly relaxed for a man whoâd just been shot.
âFor?â You mocked him, almost playfully; what else would you possibly have to thank him for? âSaving me from, yâknowâŚbleeding out.â
âMy job.â Simon shifted, trying to stretch in the tight confines of the cot.
âNo, butâŚit isnât, is it?â You found yourself questioning his words aloud, âYour job isâŚlead, call the shotsâŚâ
There may have been nuances in his title that made it his responsibility to show compassion, but there was definitely nothing that said he had to kneel beside you while you bled; use his clothing in place of a bandage; care for you after you had done something so stupid and avoidable.
You bit your tongue, remembering how youâd screamed at him so intensely about how he didnât do anything that wasnât in the job description.
âWhatever, IâmâŚâ you sighed, furrowing your brows and giving yourself another moment to back out of saying the next words. âIâm glad itâs you I call Lieutenant. Anybody else probably wouldâve seen me as a lost causeâback there, and inâŚin a lot of the situations we end up in.â You couldnât stop yourself from praising him, not after the events of the night and your self-reflection. âYouâre a good Lieutenant.â
He didnât respond. You were too uncomfortable to deal with any more silence, so you continued.
âYouâre a good person, Simon.â
âWhy me?â Youâd hardly finished saying his name when he bombarded you with the question.
âWhat?â You didnât understand what he was asking.
âGaz is your mate, yeah?â In the low light of the room, you could see his eyes scanning your face, ââNd Soap. Both of 'em wouldâa helped.â He tilted his head back, and you realized what he was talking about.
You tried to push down the way your heart screamed for him.
âI trust you.â You answered with your brain instead.
âYou trust them.â It was amazing to you that a man in his condition still had the energy to argue about such superfluous things.
âYeah,â you shrugged, âBut itâsâŚdifferent. I think.â You didnât care to explain.
Slowly, he nodded, as if trying to deconstruct the meaning of your words.
âAnd, you knowâŚâ You finally found your confidence, âFigured if I was gonna die, I could at least find out what it was like to have your hands on me first.â
You didnât know why that was the direction you went in, taking a lighthearted approach and praying that it would come off as a joke.
âCouldâa jusâ asked,â Simon sighed, and to your relief, he sounded amused. âAlways wanted you to give me the go 'head.â
You felt your heart stutter, but you rationalized that all the drugs he was on were probably making him loopy.
âWouldâa been nicer wi'out all the bloodâbetter story for the grandkids.â He closed his eyes.
You just hummed, smiling. He must have been drugged to the nines.
He went silent again, and you stayed seated beside him, listening to the way his breathing leveled out as he drifted off to sleep.
If what Gaz said was true, and if Simon really had kept vigil over you while you were out cold, then it was the least you could do now for him. It was funny, in a melodramatic sort of way, thinking about how the two of you had switched places.
When you were certain he was asleep, you dropped your voice to a whisper.
âI brought you your shirt back,â you picked it up from the spot youâd left it when you had first come in, crumpled on the chair next to you. âI know you donât want itâŚbutâŚI donât think I do, either.â You smiled, adding, âMaybe a clean one.â
You paused, half expecting him to respond. When he didnât, sound asleep, you continued.
âIâve seen all the shirts you own. Not a lot on rotation.â
You stewed in your thoughts, realizing that having him trapped as an unconscious audience gave you the perfect opportunity to tell him the truthâat least to a degree.
âI just donât want to have this reminder of my own fuck up. And of what you had to do toâŚâ
To keep me from dying, you didnât sayâcouldnât say, despite the fact that he wouldnât hear you.
âBut if I give it to you now, as aâif we treat it like a gag, like itâs something funnier than it isâŚâ You pulled at the fabric, âAt leastâŚlet me care, Simon. Even if itâs just this once. Pretend youâre ok with being cared for.â
Let me show you how deeply I care.
You folded the shirt in your lap, putting it on the small table next to the bed and rising from your seat.
You let your gaze rake over him, once again taking note of how oversized he was in the cot. In a way, though, as he lay, contorted and bandaged, he looked so, so small. Like a child that couldnât bear to separate from their first bed; desperate for comfort that he couldnât find and wouldnât admit to craving.
How the mighty fall.
But heâd be out of here in a day. He wouldnât let himself waste away in the infirmaryâhe wouldnât be like you.
You couldnât help the way you reached out to graze your fingers over the hem of his balaclava. For how often you grumbled about wanting to tear it off his face, you had no intention of doing so now.
You knew better. You just wanted to feel that part of him.
It was soft. You smiled.
Of course it was.
You brushed your thumb over the fabric that covered his cheek, smiling softly. Maybe the emotions youâd experienced over the course of the night were still running high, but you felt like you might tear up.
And you felt like maybe youâd be ok showing him this kind of affection even if he was awake.
You did your best to remain unwavering in the face of yearning.
âIâm sorry I yelled at you, LT,â you pulled your hand back from his face, âWonât do it again.âÂ
~~~
The sun was coming up when you left the infirmary, and the hall glowed with an eerie pre-dawn atmosphere that comforted you in the strangest of ways.
You had time; he would see another sunrise.
You found yourself knocking on Gazâs door, eager to apologize for snapping at him hours prior during your rampage.
He opened the door, already dressed, and the smile on his face helped you remember that no matter what you did, he understood.
Kyle always understood.
âUp early.â He noted, taking in your disheveled appearance.
âSo are you,â you pointed out, and he smirked. âI wanted to say sorry.â
âFor what?â He swung the door open wider, walking back into his room and silently beckoning you inside.
âScreaming at you last nightâthis morning,â you kind of laughed, feeling awkward for the storm of feelings youâd lashed him with. âI donât want you toâŚIâm not mad at you. Or anything. And I donât want you to be mad at me. I shouldnât have snapped like that.â
You walked into his room, closing the door behind you, and he laughed.
âIâm not mad,â he sat at his desk, âWhy would I be mad?â
âBecause I cursed you out after you saw our Lieutenant get bodied,â you sighed, trying to make the situation seem lighter with your phrasing. âShitty of me to do.â
âYou were upset.â Gaz looked at you in a way that made you feel more at ease; he could see through you, but you didnât really mind it right now.
âYeah,â you nodded, âI was.â
âYou still upset?â
âNânoâŚâ You measured your feelings; you still felt a strange buzzing throughout your body, but you chalked it up to lack of sleep and the rush of adrenaline you'd been dealt. âIâm alright.â
You hesitated, looking around Gazâs room to avoid having to meet his eyes.
âI went to see him.â
âUh-huh.â Gaz raised an eyebrow at you.
âJust wanted toâŚâ You rolled your eyes, trying to explain yourself, âAfter our conversation last weekâyou and meâI thought it was only fair. I mean, he waited by me, right? So what kind of Sergeant would I be if I didnât look out for him? Just repaying his...kindness.â
Gaz didnât say anything, but his lips morphed into a poorly concealed smirk.
âWhat?â
âNothing,â he shook his head, âJust happy to see you two getting along.â
âYeah, wellânow that weâve both been brought back from the brink in the span of less than a month, itâs a little easier to empathize with him.â
âIs'at it?â Gaz looked up at you knowingly, and you rolled your eyes again.
âIt is.â You lied.
âRight,â he nodded, trying not to come off too pleased. âGood.â
âIâm happy that youâre not mad.â You muttered.
âAnd Iâm happy that youâre feeling better,â he replied, voice tender. âYou sleep at all?â
You shrugged, shaking your head.
âTry.â Was all he said.
âI know,â you nodded, heaving a sigh, âI will.â
He stood, patting you on the back and leading you out of his room.
âIâm serious, by the way,â he shook your shoulder playfully, âHappy that you and him have found common ground.â
âYeah,â you smiled softly, turning to face him when youâd stepped over the threshold, âMe too.â
~~~
A full day had passed before there was a knock on your door. When you opened it, you werenât as surprised as you thought youâd be to see Ghost standing opposite you.
âYouâre up.â You stated, rather dumbly. He looked as though he had never been in the infirmary at all, clad in all black, gloves and balaclava on.
âNothin' to do in âere.â He grumbled, and you smiled.
âI think thatâs the point, Simon.â
His eyes darted to the side before his gaze settled back on you, as if he was making only a halfhearted attempt at rolling them.
âThought I told you to keep this.â Ghost held his hand out, and you recognized the shirt.
You sighed. âI kinda just figuredâI dunno. Thought it would beâŚfunny? You were so drugged up. You lookedâŚâ You tried to think of an excuse, coming up dry. You shrugged, âThought you might finally want it back.â
âWasnât drugged.â His eyes narrowed a tad, having ignored everything you said to him after you mentioned him being drugged.
âWhat?â You furrowed your brow.
âWasnât drugged,â he huffed, âDonât like 'at shit.â
âItâs morphine.â You smiled, amused by his discontent at the notion of taking painkillers.
Your delight at his distrust of anesthetics almost drowned out the loud thought at the front of your mind as you remembered the words he said to you as he lay in the medical cot.
Always wanted you to give me the go ahead.
You shook it off; you had been joking, and he had been joking back.
âThey donât give it to me. Donât let âem.â His voice became a bit smaller, and you tried to reason with him.
âBut it makes you feel betterâgreat, even.â You offered an amused sigh, tilting your head.
âBrother was a druggy.â He stared daggers at you, and you were taken aback.
âOhâIââ
âDonât,â he shook his head before you could come up with an appropriate response. â'Eard it all before. Dead, either way.â
You nodded, resigned. Your gaze fell to the floor.
You knew a lot about Simon, but there were certain things he kept closer to his chest. He dropped lore at random momentsâusually in an effort to shut people down, but this felt sincere. Vulnerable, even.
âDo you wanna come in?â
You could see his brow furrow, the familiar crease between his eyes appearing.
âInto your room?â He looked at you curiously before just barely nodding, âSure.â
You stepped to the side, raising an arm to invite him in.
He walked slowly, taking in the look of the space; it was plain, barely decoratedâlike most of the rooms on baseâbut there were still pieces of you that lingered.
A blue hairbrush on your nightstand, pens with gnawed-on caps scattered about, half-finished reports on your desk.
He pulled the chair from your desk and sat. You couldnât tear your eyes from him, as hard as you tried.
He was clearly still uncomfortable, tilting slightly to one side, but you couldnât help but feel as though he looked right in your room.
You settled on the edge of your bed, pulling your legs up to your chest.
âYou doinâ a'right?â He cleared his throat, worried that heâd made the situation uncomfortable by mentioning his brother.
âYeah,â you nodded, looking back up at him. âBetter.â
âLook, uhâŚtired.â He was slow to say it.
âThanks, Simon,â you laughed sardonically, but tried to show him you were only kidding. âAlways know what to say.â
âMeantâ'ave you not been sleeping?â He tried to save face.
âNot well.â You chewed the inside of your cheek.
He nodded, eyes flickering over your form before trailing back to your face.
âSomething keepin' you up?â
âWish it was that simple,â you swallowed, tightening your grip around your legs where they pressed against your chest. âIâm, umâŚthe thought of sleeping is prettyâŚdaunting? Lately.â
âYou scared?â
âPutting it lightly.â
There was a long pause, during which he seemed to study you. You didnât squirm under his gaze like you normally wouldâsomething about this was more comfortable.
â'Ad a panic attack my first night in the barracks.â Simon spoke suddenly, but maintained a casual tone.
âWhat?â
He nodded, rolling his shoulders back slightly.
âThought Iâd made a mistake. Thought IâdâŚâ And here it was, more bits of his loreâbut again being shared in a manner that made you feel like it was more than just Ghost offering insight into his brutality.
This was Simon offering insight into his ability to feel.
âEarly two-thousands, lots of, uhâŚpropaganda, 'at I fell for, yâknow, jusâ like everybody else,â he spread his legs, resting his elbows on his thighs as he recounted his experience.
You searched his eyes, though he didn't bother to look at you. He'd been a soldier for nearly as long as youâd been alive; you wondered what it was like.
âDidnât know if Iâd see the next morning. Didnât know if Iâd made the wrong choice, or what.â He took a deep breath.
For a moment, even in the mask and in his brooding, you saw Simon clearer than ever, without so much as a hint of Ghost.
âIt was like 'at for a long time.â
âIâm no rookie, Lieutenant,â you scoffed, but it lacked any real bite. âI know how it is.â
He looked at you, almost pleadingly, for a moment, before his gaze settled.
âPoint isâŚâ he hesitated, âDonât know if I 'ave a point, really.â He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling before meeting your gaze once more. âThought I wasâŚvaliant for pushinâ it down.â He looked at you pointedly, âI wasnât.â
You nodded solemnly. He was right.
He wasnât telling you directly that he thought you were burning yourself out; that he noticed you struggling; that he saw the way you were trying to ignore the mental toll, but he was right. And you both knew it.
âSure youâve 'eard it before from people youâdâŚâ he shook his head, his sentence trailing off before he finished the thought. âBut, if you need anythingâŚâ
âYeah,â you swallowed, suddenly wishing you could reach out and pull him closer; allow yourself the comfort of falling into him and finding safety curled against his form. But you didnât act on the urge, responding instead with a curt nod and a weak smile. âThanks.â
He nodded, eyes still focused on your face. He shifted in the seat heâd taken, standing up slowlyâtoo slowly.
âTake an Advil, Simon.â You tried not to make your voice sound too pleading.
He waved you off. âYeah.â
âIâm serious.â
âI know,â he turned to look down at you. âI know.â
âWonât kill you.â
âDonât push it.â
You remained on your bed, hugging your knees to your chest, as he walked himself out of your room.
He paused, hand hovering over the knob.
âI like your callsign,â he finally opened the door, throwing his final words back at you as an afterthought, âGlad you 'aven't changed it. Suits you.â
You didn't ask him to explain, didnât have the energy to call after him. You were too focused on the fact that he'd left the shirt on your desk; once again leaving you with a piece of him that you didn't know how to handle.
~~~
You didnât want to check the time, fully aware that it was an early hour nobody else would be awake to see.
Your heart was beating too fast, and it traveled to your ears to create an obnoxious, suspenseful thump.
Were you dying? Or did it just feel like you were?
You could feel the sweat on your body, dampening your sheets; making them cling to you in unruly patterns that would surely press into your skin, leaving faint lines to show for your lack of sleep. But even soaked in your own sweat, cold to the touch, you felt like you were burningâlike you had been stuck to some kind of pyre and set alight.
You were back in that hazy state. Underwater and out of control.
Every time you slept, you would dream; every dream you had became a nightmare.
In every nightmare, you were back on the ground.
Your breathing had been labored when you woke up, and though you were still panting, the nausea that had lurched within you now subsided into an inconsistent waver that occasionally rolled over your stomach.
You sat up, shoving your head between your knees and counting your breaths.
Five in; hold for five; eight out; hold for two.
Your legs were shaking, and your skin was numb, but you could still feel the press of your knees to your temples as you sat there, counting.
And then as soon as it had begun, it was over.
Maybe not over entirely, but youâd overcome the peak and were now on a steady decline.
You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and it made you feel weak; a special ops soldier who panicked and cried could hardly be called a soldier at all.
The conversation youâd had with Simon came back to you, remembering his random divulgence of the fear heâd faced when he first joined the military. But you werenât a rookie, you werenât new to thisâthe only part you were unfamiliar with was the genuine fear.
Heâd said that trying to get over it on oneâs own wasnât the heroic option heâd thought it was.
And heâd implied that heâd be happy to help.
On shaky legs, feeling practically boneless, you walked to his room, tiptoeing as you tried to keep yourself small.
It wasnât hardâyou already felt meek, crushed by your nerves.
You lifted a hand to his door hesitantly, unsure if heâd even be awake; unsure of what exactly you wanted from him.
But you did knock, and he opened the door, looking at you expectantly.
You swallowed. âCan I come in?â
He didnât say anything, moving to the side and gesturing vaguely into his room. You hurried in, and Simon closed the door, walking forward to stand in front of you as you puttered around his room.
âWhatââ He began, but you cut him off.
âI have been pushing it down.â
âMm?â You saw his eyes contort in confusion.
âThe other day. You said you thought you had been valiant to push it downâsaid I could come to you if I needed anything.â Your words were rushed, and maybe louder than they shouldâve been.
âSaid âif you need anything,â and thenâ"
âSimon.â
He held up a hand in concession.
âIâve been trying to ignore it, and it isnât working. Iâmââ You felt a sudden onset of emotion, voice breaking. You tried to swallow the lump that formed in your throat to no avail. âIâm scared.â
âOf what?â He asked, and his voice came out low, quietâalmost as if he was attempting to sound softer.
âI donât know.â You admitted.
He nodded, still standing at a distance. His eyes stayed trained on your face.
âI canât sleep, I canâtâI feel like, I dunno, maybe itâs just because of howâŚunexpectedâŚit was. But lying out there, on the fucking ground, on the dirt, bleeding, I felt peace, LT,â you had given up on holding back the tears, and they flowed freely down your cheeks. âI could accept what was coming. And now I��m back, Iâm here, Iâm alive, and IâIâm sore. Like, in myâin my soul, Iâm sore, and Iâm so, so fucking tired.â You took a shuddered breath. âAnd Iâm scared.â
Ghost was quiet, but he finally moved, situating himself on the edge of his bed and motioning for you to join him.
âSit.â
You obliged, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you sat next to him.
He sighed, staring at the wall. âNot something you jus' move on from.â
âBut I want to get better.â You argued, swallowing another sob.
âYâwill. In time.â
âWhen?â
âCanât tell you.â
âNeed to know basis?â You rolled your eyes, still sour about being left out of the last mission.
âYeah,â he turned his head to look at you, and for the first time, you recognized the exhaustion in his eyes. âBut youâre the one whoâll know." He moved to rest his hand on your knee. "S'not an answer anybody else can give you.â
Ghost didn't do physical affection the way Soap and Gaz did, and a gesture as forward as placing a hand on your leg felt deeply intimate coming from him.
You liked it. Partnered with his words, the weight of his touch made you feel better.
âSome help you areâŚâ You smiled softly, glancing at him in your peripheral as you sniffled.
âTalkinâ about it, arenât you?â You could see the movement of his brow as he raised it beneath the balaclava.
You sighed, nodding an affirmative.
âTalked to Gaz about it?â
âNoâŚnotânot like this,â you turned to face him.
His hand slipped off your leg in a manner that seemed almost reluctant. Immediately, you missed the warmth of his palm.
When he looked down at you in his trademarked silence, you continued.
âI trust you.â
You thought his eyes mightâve creased, giving away a smile under the balaclava, but you didnât dwell on it.
âCan I ask you something?â The question popped into your head, and you figured now was as good a time as any.
âWhaâsâat?â He shifted on the bed, giving himself more space to look at you without having to crane his neck.
âYou werenât drugged the other day.â
âS'not a question,â he pointed out. âNo. I wasn't. Told you âat.â
âSo, you were justâŚjoking? When you made the, uhâŚthat remark aboutâŚgrandkids.â You chewed the inside of your cheek, "About me giving you the go ahead?"
This time, you were certain he was smiling.
âDâyou think I was joking?â
âIâmaybeâŚâ You chewed the inside of your cheek.
He shrugged, leaning back on his hands.
âYouâre tired, Simon.â Unable to get a straight answer from him, you changed the subject.
âProjecting a bit?â He straightened back up, folding his arms, and you frowned at him.
âWhy havenât you been sleeping?â
âRarely do.â
âAre you scared?â
âNot thâfirst time Iâve been shot at, love.â He was deflecting.
âAre you still hurting?â
He hesitated. With a huff, he answered.
ââŚI guess. Li'l bit, yeah.â
âCan I please just give you something for it?â You werenât trying to beg, but it certainly came off as if you were, "Just some Advil?"
His gaze shifted around the room, and then back to you.
âWill it make yâfeel better?â He tilted his head at you.
âItâll make you feel better.â You countered.
He heaved a sigh, and you saw his shoulders sag a bit in defeat.
âA'right,â he nodded, âYeah. Fine.â
You grinned at him through the tears that had dried on your face, rising from his bed and speeding down the hall to your own room. You grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen on your nightstand, then moved just as quickly back to his room.
âTake two.â You fished the pills from the bottle when you situated yourself on the bed again, holding them out to him.
âOne.â
âTwo.â
âHalf of one.â
âJesus Christ. Simonââ
âFuckin' with you.â He took the pills from your hand.
You watched a bit too keenly when he pulled the balaclava up over his jaw to place the pills on his tongue. You could see the tip of the scar that brushed over his top lip.
He swallowed the pills dry, tugging his mask back down.
âHappy?â
âThrilled.â You smiled, and it was genuine.
âYâsmiling at me, sweetheart,â he sighed, âGone mental from exhaustion?â
âMaybe,â you rolled your eyes playfully, âMaybe Iâm justâŚâ
He stared at you, waiting for you to finish your thought.
âIâm glad youâre aliveâŚâ You sighed, staring at his chest rather than his eyes.
âIâm glad youâre alive.â He echoed your words, a bit more decisively.
You could tell he meant it.
There was a silence in the room, one that allowed the tension to really resonate. But it wasnât uncomfortableâif anything, maybe it was necessary.
âThink youâd rather stay âere tonight?â
âHere?â Your brows furrowed, unsure if youâd heard him correctly.
âYeah,â he nodded, âCould both benefit from some company.â He added, âUp to you.â
You absorbed the question, nodding slowly.
âYeah. That wouldâŚthatâd be nice.â
"Go on." He shifted on the mattress, motioning to the head of the bed.
Simon watched you maneuver yourself up the bed, kicking your legs under the covers and pulling them up to your chin. When you'd settled, he worked his way to a more comfortable spot. He lay next to you above the blankets; mask on, arms folded over his chest.
It wasnât the way youâd imagined getting into bed with himâand you often felt ashamed for thinking about getting into bed with him at allâbut it was comforting all the same.
âLet me ask you something.â He looked over at you when youâd made yourself comfortable.
âOkay.â
âYou serious? âBout wantinâ tâfeel my hands on you?â His voice was low but carried a playful tone, as if he were baiting you into a confession.
âWhat?â You laughed.
âIn the infirmary, âfore I said that stuff about givinâ meââ
âSimon?â
âMm?â
âDo you think I was serious?â
You rolled over onto your side, pleased with yourself. If he wouldnât give you a straight answer, you wouldnât give him one, either.
~~~
Simon was still in the same position heâd gone to sleep in when you woke up; lying on his back with his mask on, arms folded over his chest.
You had managed to position yourself against him, face pushed into his bicep. You found yourself wishing he had moved; tried to get closer to you, given some indication that he had noticed your shift and embraced it.
But no matter.
You snuck out of Ghostâs room as the sun came up, eager to avoid any prying eyesâif only to save yourself from the embarrassment of having to explain that nothing had actually happened at all.
But it had been a sounder sleep than youâd anticipated; he was warm, solid next to you, and that alone made you feel more at ease than you had in a while.
You found yourself in front of his door for a second night in a row.
âYou a'right?â He opened the door on your second knock.
âIâyeahâŚâ you answered, âItâsâŚI donâtâŚâ
âDonât want to be alone?â He finished the sentence for you, and you nodded.
He stepped aside, wordlessly, giving you space to walk through the door.
You had been truthfulâyou didnât want to be alone. You couldnât handle the idea of being trapped with your thoughts again in the dark of your room when you knew what was looming just behind your eyelids.
But the whole truth was that you wanted to be with him.
He tugged haphazardly at the blankets in an attempt to make the bed more appealing. Not that he really had to; you were tired, and it didnât matter whether the bed you crawled into was made or not, as long as he was in it with you.
When heâd made the bed to his liking, you undid his hard work in a split second as you got comfortable under the covers.
You looked up at him. He stood by the edge of the bed, looking back at you.
âLeft without sayin' anything this morning.â
âYou were asleep,â you pointed out. âWhy? Were you gonna make me breakfast?â
âNot with âat attitude.â He scoffed, and you laughed quietly.
He situated himself next to you, once again lying above the covers.
âI wonât make this a habit,â you muttered, âI promise.â
âSâaâright,â he shook his head, âNot really a problem, far as I see it.â
âOh?â
âYou âeard me.â He tilted his head back, closing his eyes.
He seemed so much more at ease in his own space, which begged the question:
âHow come you wear the mask to sleep?â You couldnât help yourself. âI meanâitâs your room, Simon. Nobodyâs gonna see you.â
âYou might.â His eyes reopened, and he tilted his head to the side to look at you.
âBut I know what you look like,â you smirked, âI know who you are. And youâre not Ghost.â
âSânot true.â He mumbled.
âIt is,â you doubled down, âOutside of this room, sure, but in hereâin bed, at the very leastâyouâre all Simon.â
He was quiet for a minute.
âSo âow come you donât wanna be Berserker?â
âTold youâjust doesnât feel like me.â
âBut Iâm still Ghost.â
âYeah.â
âBut Iâm alsoâŚnot.â
You hesitated. âWell, when you make it sound soâŚcomplicatedâŚâ
âI like your callsign.â
âWhy?â You were genuinely curious to know what he thought.
âThought I said,â he sighed, âSuits you.â
âYou never said why.â You pressed him for more.
âYou flip on a dime,â he explained with a sigh, âGo into this, uh, wild state. Pretty thing, goinâ completely berserk on the fieldâalways liked it.â He exhaled a quiet, one-breath laugh, âAnd youâre damn near impossible to kill.â
You digested his words, but only one point stuck with you, and it made your heart flutter.
âYou think Iâm pretty?â You spoke coyly, covering your excitement with a playful tone.
He tensed his shoulders before letting them drop with a sigh of faux exasperation.
âYeah,â he nodded, âI think youâre pretty.â
You smiled, staring up at him from your spot on the bedâhis bed.
ââNd you think I am, tooâbegginâ me to take my mask off.â There was a smirk in his voice.
âSimon,â you rolled your eyes, turning away from him, âYou ruined it.â
~~~
After spending several nights in Simonâs bed, youâd become used to the process of falling asleep to banter that bordered flirtation; of sleeping soundly and without distress; of waking up earlier than youâd like to, and creeping out of his room.
On the morning of the fourth day, you had woken up with his arm draped over your side, his hand pressed lightly against your stomach. He had positioned himself so that his arm perched over your hips rather than your waist to avoid brushing the scar that lingered even after your stitches had dissolved.
Maybe it had been an accident, just a subconscious pull to the heat of your body as you lay next to him, but it felt too precise to be coincidentalâand that made you feel a sort of smug adoration.
You had stayed a little longer that morning.
You werenât keeping it a secret, per se, but it felt wrong to put this newfound arrangement on display. Even if it was only something between coworkersâfriends?âthat benefitted your sleep schedule and made you feel less jumpy, you didnât like the notion that people in the barracks would suspect it was something more.
Maybe you didnât care about what other people thought.
Maybe it was more about what Simon thought; what his intentions were; whether or not youâd be overstepping by making it known that youâd been sleepingâand only sleepingâwith him.
You strolled into the mess hall feeling well rested and hungry. Your appetite had finally returned, and you were happy to sate it.
âYou look better,â Gaz addressed you from across the table, âSleeping?â
âYeah,â you nodded, âBeen managing to go the whole night.â
âGood,â he sipped his coffee through a smile, âThatâs good.â
You hadnât told him it was because youâd been finding comfort in the Lieutenantâs bed.
Ghost and Soap approached the table, taking their respective seats.
Soap threw his tray down next to Gaz, grumbling as he sat.
âWhatâs wrong with you?â Gaz nudged Johnny with his shoulder.
âSlept nae a fuckinâ wink last night.â Soap mumbled into his coffee.
âWhy?â You questioned.
Soap sighed, shrugging in defeat.
âBet you could get something from the infirmary,â you suggested, âSomething to knock you on your ass. If you keep getting no sleep, I mean.â
âThat what youâve been doing?â Gaz asked you, and your mind went blank.
âHoping it doesnât come tâthat.â Johnny inadvertently saved you from having to answer Gazâs question by responding to your initial prompt.
âTried countinâ sheep, Johnny?â Simon finally piped up from his seat next to you.
âBile yer heid,â Soap shot a deadpan look at him.
âEnglish.â Ghost huffed.
âFuck yerselfâyâkeep it up, Iâll crawl into bed with you, LT.â Soap turned to look at you, smiling as he quirked a brow âIf thereâs any room.â
âWhat?â You tried not to let the sudden wave of panic show on your face.
Thereâs no way he could know.
Was there?
âWhat?â Johnny laughed, brow furrowed, âLookât âimâbe a shock if he alone could fit into one oâthe beds.â
You faked a quick laugh, looking over at Simon, who hadnât reacted at all to Soapâs taunt. He remained completely unfazed, watching his coffee steam; seemingly unaware of your knee-jerk response.
It was like he had not a care in the world.
Suddenly, your appetite was gone.
âI have reports to finish.â
âStill?â Gaz looked at you incredulously.
âYeah,â you nodded, âBeen putting them off too long.â
Picking up your tray, you wandered out of the mess hall and towards your room.
~~~
You forced yourself to stay in your own bed that night, and the night after that.
And it felt torturous, and not because of the nightmares or the creeping sense of dreadâthough that certainly didnât help your quest to find independence. This discomfort was more about your lack of understanding.
You didnât know why you were so concerned about other people on the base seeing you with himânervous at the notion of your own friends knowing about this arrangement.
You didnât understand why Ghost had become so attuned to your needs or what he meant by not seeing you in his bed as a problem.
He thought you were pretty. At least you knew that much.
Not that it did anything to help quell your doubts.
You had started sleeping in the same shirt that had caused you so much grief; after doing your best to lift the stains, youâd managed to make it seem like the shirt hadnât been through hell and back.
Now if only you could make yourself feel the same.
You werenât avoiding Simon on purposeâthatâs what you told yourself, anyway. You just couldnât come to terms with the fact that maybe he was being kind out of pity; that he saw how miserable and tired you were, and was simply relenting.
You didnât want to get your hopes up, get riled up over the nothing that was sharing a bed with him.
Johnnyâs offhand remark had, for some reason, made you feel odd. It was the way youâd reacted that made you feel bad, though, and Simonâs lack of reaction that made you feel worse.
His lack of an outward response made you upset. It dredged up the resentment youâd projected onto him. His clear obsession with appearing so stoic and uncaring in front of everybody made you feel unwanted; the fact that he could never, ever, seem to give you a reaction, no matter what you did, made you feel pitiful.
Meanwhile, your immediate panic at the thought of Soap knowing what was going on made you feel pathetic, and served to put into perspective just how deep your feelings actually ran.
The juxtaposition in reactions from yourself and him made you feel dirty.
You stared at the ceiling, trying to find solace in your bed after a day of forcing yourself to finish reports. You hadnât been lying when youâd walked out of breakfast the other dayâthey had been piling up, and you had really needed to get them sorted.
You were tired. It wasnât your best work, but at least they were finally done.
Someone knocked on your door.
âWhat?â You called out, prepared to hear Gaz on the other side.
âOpen the door, sweetheart.â
Simon.
You opened your door a crack, just to peek at him, before finding the courage to open it completely.
âA'right?â He didnât seem to notice your hesitationâthat, or he was just ignoring it.
He was so good at ignoring things.
âYes.â You lied, immediately turning bitter towards him.
â'Avenât been comin' to see me.â He wasnât asking, just stating the obvious, and it made you even more upset.
âTwo nights,â you turned your back on him, walking further into your room. âThree tonight.â
You hadnât really meant your movement as an invitation for him to come in, but Simon took it as one anyway. He followed you inside, shutting the door behind himself.
âDâyou want toââ
âDo I want to sleep in your room?â Your words came out snippy as you cut him off, and indignation dripped from your voice.
He stayed quiet for a moment.
âDo you?â
âDid you tell Soap?â You began interrogating him.
âMm?â
âDid you,â you took a step closer to him, âTell Soap? Aboutâabout this? AboutâŚwhatever this is. Me sleeping in your bed.â
âNo,â Simon tilted his head to the side, âDid yâwant me to?â
âDid Iâwhat? What, so you can make a show of how you finally got me to behave for you?â You snapped, âMake sure everybody knows how easy it was to soften me up and get me where you want me?â
His eyes went wide for a moment before he collected himself with a huff.
âWhat?â
âI said what I said. Is this about you getting a little power trip?â
You felt lightheaded. Youâd spent so long building walls around yourself to avoid your want for him, and heâd managed to tear them down in a matter of weeks. And he didnât even care; he was seemingly ignorant to all of your emotional turmoil, to all the what ifs, and the sinking feeling you always carried of never being good enough for him.
âMaking sure everybody knows that youâve gotten another thing that you deserve?â You continued, irate.
He stared at you, resigned to your verbal onslaught.
âYou donât care what they think.â He spoke as if it was only just dawning on him.
âBut I care what you think!â You broke, slumping over yourself slightly. You didnât know if you wanted to laugh or cry, finding a happy medium in giggling so hysterically that your eyes began to water. âI care way too much about what you think, Simon! And I have no idea what youâre thinking, ever! You wanna know why Iâve been so fuckingâI donât know, upset? With you? For god knows how long? Why I'm so confused by this random fucking attentiveness?â
You stormed over to your desk, hastily grabbing the reports and walking back over to Simon to slam them against his chest.
âBe fucking certain theyâre in order this time, sweetheart!â You mocked his accent, angry enough that you considered mimicry fair game.
He let the papers drop to the ground by his feet.
âYou went from so easy to so, so difficult in the span of twenty-four hours, and I have never for the life of me been able to figure out what set you off!â You wondered if he even remembered the series of events you were talking about, if it stuck out to him the way it did to you. âYouâre so complicated! Youâre so fuckingâand now youâre mad that Iâm not running off to bed with you? Soâso that you can keep me safe from myself and prove to me that youâre some fucking superhero? Wanna be my personal savior? Make me eat my words about your arrogance?â You scoffed, âJesus fuck, Simon!â
You swallowed every emotion besides ire. Still, you felt a pang of remorse when you remembered what youâd said to him as he lay sleeping in the infirmary.
Sorry I yelled at you; it wonât happen again.
Now you were making a liar out of yourself, and it wasnât even his faultâthis was you still trying to push it all down, even after everything. The fear of rejection tried to overpower your desire for help from him; comfort from him.
The terseness of your words hung between the two of you, and you remained frozen in place, standing across from him, panting.
âWasnât mad.â You could hear the irritation in his voice, finally getting a reaction.
âWhat?â You huffed.
âI wasnât mad. Never been mad at you.â
âThen whatââ
âYou needed a push.â
âAnd thatâs how you thought to do it?â
â'Ow else would I have done it?â He sounded like he did on missions, blunt and loud, and the severity of his tone made you flinch.
âAny other way! Youâyou refuse to acknowledge the work I put into all of this! Then, now, youâve always acted like Iâm not good enough to be here!â
âI push you because I respect you,â he was practically yelling now as he matched your urgency, raising a hand to point at you for emphasis. âYou respond better to assertiveness. You thrive on clarity, always 'ave. Thought I was fuckin' âelpin' you.â With narrowed eyes, he searched your face. "And maybe I was rough on you, but âow the fuck was I s'posed to reactâyou think I knew what to do? When you were showing me such bloodyâthis gentle fuckin' devotion since day one?"
You thought you'd like getting him to snap, but you didn't. You could feel your cheeks heating up, sinuses stinging slightly as your body readied tears.
You felt stupid, the situation lamentable. It had always been a misunderstanding; a lapse in communication between two people who understood each other but refused to relate. Someone who wanted to adore, and someone who had no idea how to be adored.
He had always been attuned to your needs. He was just godawful at showing it.
You shrunk into yourself a bit, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. You avoided his gaze as you chose your words.
âAre you proud of me?â
âWhat?â He looked down at you in disbelief.
You doubled down, trying to keep your voice even, âAre you proud of me, Simon?â
He took a long breath, debating his next move, before tugging his mask over his jaw.
In one swift motion, he pulled you into him, not bothering to weave his arms under your own and instead wrapping himself around you with your arms still slack at your sides.
âFuck are you talking about?â He growled, one hand coming up to cup your face.
And then he was kissing you, passionately, but in an oddly chaste manner.
You gasped, shocked by how forward the action was and by how much you responded to it. You wiggled your arms out of his grasp, one hand finding purchase on his chest while the other flew to the nape of his neck.
He pulled away from you, and you found yourself chasing the slow movement of his lips against yours, already missing the vague taste of him youâd gotten from the gentle kiss.
âYouâre fuckin' stubborn,â Simon spoke just above a whisper, deep voice ragged as he caught his breath, âYouâre one of the most competent people Iâve ever worked with. You call me on shit people three ranks above you wouldnât, and youâre right. You stepped on a landmine, and you lived.â His thumb brushed over your cheek as his hand kept up the responsibility of holding your face up, ensuring that your eyes met his. âWho cares âf Iâm proud of you.â
It wasn��t a question, more of a statement, but you answered anyway.
âI do.â You breathed, and you finally felt as though the whole truth had been told.
âWell, IâŚâ He swallowed, âI am.â There was a pause as he collected his thoughts, staring at you with a tender look of hesitation. âI am. And âm sorry.â
âFor what?â You wanted to hear it.
âEverything,â he seemed assured, âNot beingânot being the right kind of support, not being clear aboutâŚâ
When he trailed off, you wanted to push him forward into his feelings; make him say it, clarify how he hadnât been clear about his true intentions or the nature of his emotions; make him put into perspective what Gaz had been trying to tell you in your room as you smoked through your skepticism.
But that would just make you feel cruel, and if he wasnât ready to share that sort of vulnerability with you, then so be it.
Instead, you began a new line of questioning.
âWhyâd you make that crack about us having grandkids?â You leaned against his palm where it rested on your face.
âFelt right. In thâmoment,â he sighed, âThought it was funny.â
âYou were serious.â
ââF you think Iââ
âYou were.â You delivered your claim with certainty.
He smiled, and you were thrilled to be able to see the rare presentation on his partially unmasked face.
âI was.â
âIâm not a problem.â You tried not to get distracted by how pretty his lips looked, curled so obviously at the edges.
âNot the way I see it.â He answered in a manner so typically Ghost, but it still served to prove your point.
âAnd you think Iâm pretty.â
You watched his smile turn into something more akin to a smirk.
â'At's right. I do.â
âGaz saidâŚsaid you stayed with me. In the infirmary.â
âI did.â
âHow come?â You wanted more extensive answers, unsatisfied by his brief responses.
âWhy wouldnât I?â Simon countered your question with another.
âYou were pissed that I woke up when you werenât there.â You continued to run through the series of events that had irritated you so greatly.
âCan yâblame me?â
âYeah.â
He closed his eyes for a moment upon hearing your reply, perhaps recognizing his own shortcomings in how he was dealing with this conversation; or recognizing that he had, in fact, been in the wrong to get so aggressive while you were still healing up.
He didnât say anything, so you took it upon yourself to continue, trying to prompt him.
âYou were mad.â
âI was upset.â He clarified with a hiss, not out of spite but frustration at his inability to express himself.
âWhy?â You urged him on.
âBecauseââ He heaved a sigh, âWanted you to know I...cared. Wanted it tâbe something 'at registeredâŚâ
He was clearly struggling to describe his thought process, and you couldnât blame himâhe was a complicated man in every sense of the word, and you could only imagine what it was like inside his head.
But he was trying.
â'En you woke up while I was gone, 'nd I felt stupid, so I justâŚtook it out on you, and everybody else,â he breathed, âAnd I shouldnât âave. And Iâm sorry.â
You wondered if you were the first person to ever hear the words Iâm sorry come out of his mouth, and you tried not to relish in the notion.
You tugged subconsciously at his shirt collar, and realizing that you both still hand your hands wound around one another made you blush.
âWhy did you listen to me?â
âWhen?â He furrowed his brow enough that you could see his eyes crease.
âYou let me leadâyou treated me when I asked you to.â You explained.
âThink Iâd jusâ let you bleed out?â His lips curled into a subtle smile again.
âAnswer the question.â You tugged a bit more harshly on his shirt.
âI respect you,â he muttered, âYouâre a good soldier.â
âThat doesnât answer myââ
âIt does.â He cut you off, eyes boring holes into your own as if in an effort to telepathically send you the meaning of his words.
And you understood.
âSo why did you use your shirt?â You swallowed, smiling softly.
âY'ask a lot of fuckinâ questions, know 'at?â He huffed playfully.
âYeah,â you shot back, not bending to his teasing, âWhyâd you use your shirt.â
âNo bandages.â
âSo your first instinct was to justâstrip down, middle of a warzone, wrap me up?â
âI need you,â he paused then, perhaps intentionally, as he tightened his grip around your waist, hauling you even closer against him, âSafe.â
Your breath caught in your throat, and you parted your lips, but no words came out.
âI need you alive. And Iâm glad I did it,â he was trying not to mumble, unsure of how his words would be received despite how you were clinging to him like some sort of life preserver. âIâm glad youâre alive.â
You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat, touched by his sincerity and wanting to grip his face, pull him down into another kiss that you could deepen even further.
âCouldâve used a sockâŚâ You opted instead to poke fun at him, hoping it might lighten the mood and ease the tension. You didnât want to run the risk of kissing him with tears trailing down your face.
âFuck off.â He chuckled, and you felt instantly soothed.
Simon tilted his face down ever so slightly, eyes leaving your face to take in the way his shirt framed your body.
âLooks good on you.â He seemed pleased.
âCleaned the blood.â
âI noticed.â He nodded, eyes still scanning the fabric that adorned you. âSuits you.â
âYou keep saying that, and I donât know what you mean.â You tilted your head at him, your bodies close enough that you could hear his heartbeat syncing with yours.
You belonged here.
â'Ow much clearer could I be, sweetheart?â He scoffed in jest.
âSimon.â
âMm?â He looked back at you.
âShut up,â you shook your head, amused, âIâm giving you the go ahead.â
You pulled him down by the nape of his neck where your hand still sat, reconnecting your lips to his.
This time, it was differentâhis movements were hungry, and there was little time wasted as he worked to deepen the kiss. You parted your lips, beckoning him in and whimpering softly when he began to lick into you. The room was silent with the exception of the soft sound of his mouth exploring yours and the quiet hiss of breath.
He finally moved his arm, wrapping it properly around your waist, and you could feel his fingers pressing against your skin as if in an attempt to map you out, to bruise you with his fingerprints and mark you as identifiably his own. His other palm rested heavy on your cheek, sliding back to allow his fingers to brush through your hair leisurely.
Your own hands had also begun to wander, stroking up his chest and his back, grabbing at his shoulders and his arms in a desperate attempt to feel the warmth of him seep into your palm anywhere you could get it through his shirt. You felt delirious with wantâevery emotion besides lust fizzled out, and you were left with the knowledge that this was all youâd ever really wanted.
And now that you had it, you couldnât get enough.
You tugged on his shirt. He took the hint, allowing you to walk with him in an awkward dance of intwined limbs until the back of your knees hit the bed.
You finally separated, though he kept his hands on your sides. You stared up at him as you caught your breath.
âTake it off.â Your words came out whined.
âTake what off?â He heaved a breath.
He knew what you were talking about, but he prompted you all the same in an effort to encourage you to take what you wanted.
You reached up hesitantly. With one one hand, you cupped his jaw, while your other hand gripped the fabric that heâd tugged over his mouth, peeling it off of him until his face was fully exposed.
It had only been a month or two since youâd seen his face unobstructed, but he was prettier than you remembered, if that was possible.
The scars that crisscrossed over his left cheek were a flushed pink, rosy against his pale skin; his eyes seemed sharper, keener as you analyzed his features.
His hair had grown longer on top, despite the fact that he had clearly maintained the close cropping on the sides.
Seeing him like this always made him seem human, and the circumstances in which you were seeing him now made it innately more intimate.
You kept your hand on his face, absentmindedly trailing your thumb down his cheek as you considered what you could say in this moment.
âHairâs not regulationâŚâ You mumbled, swallowing.
âGonna tell on me?â When he spoke, the faint stubble that dotted his jawline scraped gently against your palm.
âNoâŚâ You couldnât think of anything witty to say, âI like it like this.â
He didnât respond, but his eyes grew softer as he stared down at you. His hands, still on your waist, dipped beneath your shirt and the feeling of his calloused palms running so gently up your bare skin made you suck in a breath.
âSimonâŚâ You suddenly felt that you couldnât make eye contact with him, lest you embarrass yourself by begging him to fuck you where you stood.
He looked at you expectantly for a moment before his gaze flicked down to where his hands stroked up your body.
âI wantââ You tried to find the words that would make you sound the least pathetic, but realized that you didnât really care as you settled on your phrasing. âFuck me.â
âYeah?â His voice gave away his eagerness.
âPlease.â You added.
That was all it took to get him to grab you by the hips and tug you into him, turning the both of you around so that he could sit on the bed. You scrambled to straddle his lap.
He snaked his hands back under your shirtâhis shirtâhelping you out of it with one hand while the other traced patterns down your spine. When you tossed it to the side, you gazed at him expectantly, searching his face for a reaction.
âFuckinâ hell,â you got one quickly. âWannaâŚâ
He never finished his sentence, and you didnât have time to prompt him; his hands traveled up to your shoulder blades, face dipping down to bury himself in the cavern between your breasts and trail open mouthed kisses over your skin.
You couldnât help the giggle that slipped from your lips, a response to the action itself and the way he felt against you; hot, wet tongue smoothing over the spots his stubble scratched at.
When he moved to take one of your nipples between his lips, you rolled your hips, arching your back. The action earned you a growl from him, and the small vibrations from his mouth made goosebumps erupt over your skin.
âChrist, donâtââ He grunted against the supple flesh of your breast, clearly struggling to hold back from reciprocating your movements as he bucked his hips gently up into you. âFuck, câmere.â
He grabbed your thighs before he stood, flipping you onto your back. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed, and he knelt between your thighs.
âShould we take these off?â His fingers just barely dipped beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts, and you whined.
âYesâyeah,â you raised your hips from the bed, âGo for it.â
Simon smirked, tugging your shorts down your legs and leaving you completely exposed to him. He trailed kisses up the inside of your leg, sucking hard on the skin of your thigh as he inched closer to your core.
âKnew youâd be a tease.â You huffed a laugh when he reached the top of your thigh only to move back and trail kisses up your other leg.
âThought about it a lot?â He smiled against your skin, âNightâs young, sweetheart.â
You rolled your eyes, but gasped softly when he reached the top of your thigh again and slowly began to leave kisses over your pubic mound, taking his time, dipping lower until he reached your clit.
You let out a shaky breath. How long had it been since someone touched you like this; since youâd exposed yourself to a hand that wasnât yours, a mouth that knew how to put in the effort?
How long had you been aching to feel Simon this way?
Your hand flew to his head, fully appreciating the way his hair had grown out to offer you the proper length to pull on.
Simon moaned softly, pressing chaste kisses to your clit, but when you tugged harder, desperate for more, he let out a quiet growl and stared up at you as he finally pressed his tongue to your folds.
You knew he had good aimâsnipers tended toâbut the way he so expertly circled his tongue over your entrance, pressing into you and lapping up your slick made your back arch. You raised your legs to rest them over his shoulders, aching for him.
You could feel his breath coming out in warm huffs against your slick. He ate you like a man starved, and you bucked your hips into his face when he licked a broad stripe over your slit that culminated in him teasing your clit with the tip of the muscle.
âGreedy thing,â he teased, nipping at your inner thigh, âTaste even better 'an I thought.â
âThoughtâthought about it a lot?â You threw his words back at him with a shaky voice, nearing the edge, and he laughed.
âAll the time,â he wrapped his arms around your legs, forcing you to still as he pressed another kiss to your dripping cunt. âHand wrapped 'round my cock, thinking 'bout buryin' my face in you,â he teased your clit, licking another stripe over you before continuing his rambling. âHow fuckin' pretty youâd look, starinâ down at me.â
His words made you feel feral, and the knowledge that he had touched himself to thoughts of you, just as you had to thoughts of him, forced a whimper from your throat. You looked down at him with parted lips and lust blown eyes.
âYeah, âatâs it,â he nodded, staring back at you from between your thighs, face coated in your slick, âJus' like 'at, sweetheart. Watch me.â
He dropped his face again, hands moving up your legs to grip the flesh of your ass and pull you firm against him as he sucked on your clit mercilessly.
You found yourself writhing beneath his ministrations, pulling his hair harder as you reached the precipice. You didnât know if you wanted him to stop, to go easier on you; or if you wanted him to stay there, lapping at your cunt and overwhelming your senses forever.
Your thighs squeezed around his head, trembling, as your muscles tensed. Your vision went blurry from the pleasure.
âCum.â He said it like it was an order, licking into you before quickly returning his attention to your clit, sucking down hard around the bud.
What was likely meant to be a scream came out a choked cry as you came, gasping his name and trying to curl into yourself as the stimulation became all too much for you to handle.
With a final kiss to your cunt, Simon removed his mouth from you, stroking his thumb over your hip and watching you shake.
âGood?â He whispered into your thigh, planting soft kisses over your skin as you whimpered through the aftershocks of your orgasm.
âYeahâfuck, Simon, yeah. Good,â you panted, âBetter than good...Christ.â
He hummed, satisfied by your answer.
You stayed sprawled out with him between your legs for a while longer, appreciating the soft touches of the man who projected such a harsh persona; reminding yourself how to breathe properly.
"Come." You stretched your arms out, staring at him as you encouraged him to crawl into bed with you.
He obliged, standing, and you bit your tongue to keep from taunting him about how easy it was now to get him to follow orders. He pulled you into him, and you pressed your hands to his chest, nuzzling beneath his chin.
âYou gonna keep all your clothes on?â You mumbled, teasing.
Simon sat up, supporting himself on his elbow. He tilted his head down as he brought a hand to your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
âAsk me again.â
âSimonââ
âNah, câmon,â he practically cooed, voice saccharine as he teased you. âSay it, sweetheart.â
âYou want me to beg for you?â You matched his tone.
âBet youâd be good at it.â He quirked a brow, smirking.
You sighed, fully willing to give him what he wanted even if it was in jest. Grabbing his collar and pulling him down so that your nose brushed his, you spoke in a whisper.
âWill you please fuck me, Simon?â
He smiled, but the glint in his eyes read almost predatory.
âGood girl.â
He sat up, pulling off his shirt and exposing his chest to you. It wasnât anything new; you'd seen him in states of undress like this, but when his lips were still wet with your cum, it felt different in the most magnificent of ways.
You watched him stand, sitting up to get a better view; his stitches had already dissolved, but a scar still marred his left side, joining the dozens of other marks he'd collected during his time in combat.
With a smirk, he looked down at you and unzipped his fly, bending down to take his pants off, and you laughed at the showmanship he displayed.
Cocky motherfucker.
But you rubbed your thighs together when he took off his boxers, all the previous teasing production value gone as he straightened up and kicked them to the side with a huff.
Youâd long wonderedârather immaturelyâwhether his size and stature translated to all of him. You felt your cheeks flush when you saw that you had been correct in suspecting that his cock lived up to the rest of him; thick and long, it tilted slightly to the right, and one solid vein trailed up the underside. His tip was pink and leaking, already smeared with precum, and when you realized that it was likely because he had found pleasure in going down on you, you swallowed a moan.
He rolled his shoulders back, and you thought you might be drooling.
He stood at the edge of the bed, looming over you as he always did, but now with a level of hesitation. He bent down to brush his lips against yours, and you eagerly accepted the kiss.
âTell me what you want.â His breath was hot against your mouth.
âTold youâŚâ You whispered, bringing a hand up to trace the tattoos on his arm.
He shook his head. âTell me how you want it.â
You were thrown off guard by his prompting; you had been excited to let him do whatever it was he wanted.
And so thatâs what you voiced.
âAnyâŚhowever,â you swallowed, âJust want it to be you.â
His eyes softened for a moment, but you couldnât admire him for long as he quickly embraced you in another kiss, pushing you onto your back again and moving clumsily to kneel on the bed beside you.
Simonâs hands ran down the length of your body, thumbs hooking between your thighs to admire the soaking mess at your core. He situated himself between your legs, encouraging you to hook your knees over his hips.
You couldnât help but stare up at him in awe, the once callous Lieutenant who you swallowed your feelings for, now touching you with such care and admirationâand he looked good doing it.
He moved one hand from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek and staring down at you. The iciness in his eyes was back, but it was in a sense of concern rather than ire.
âYou tell me if it 'urts.â He traced your cheekbone with his thumb.
âKnew you could be arrogant, but Jesus, Simon,â you barked a laugh, âThatâs justââ
âMeant your ribs, love,â he smirked down at you, and you grinned back at him. âBut I 'preciate the vote o'confidence.â
âFreudian slipâŚâ You mumbled, not even embarrassed at your mistake, finding the humor in it and relishing that he, too, was comfortable enough to laugh about it with you.
âRight.â He nodded, smug. He maneuvered himself so that his cock could rest against your stomach.
You tilted your head, looking down to admire the image. He was justified in his pride, despite the way he came off so pompous; seeing his cock against you like this made your breath hitch, the comparison it drew to your size versus his was unavoidable and absolutely delicious.
âYou gonna fuck me, or just show off?â You wiggled your hips.
âNice to know youâre still mouthy even on your back.â Simon huffed, amused, as he pulled back to line himself up with you.
When he notched his tip to your entrance, you bucked your hips gently, unable to conceal your excitement. He pressed a hand to your stomach.
âUh-uh, sweetheart,â he grunted, âPatient.â
You whined, frustrated and needy, but you didnât have to put up too much of a fuss before he sunk into you. He watched intently as your cunt swallowed him inch by inch, lowering himself to hover over you on his forearms, pressing his hips to yours.
You squeaked a moan, filled to the brim, and grazed your nails down his back, feeling the occasional indentation of a scar beneath your fingers. Simon pressed his forehead to yours, eyes closed and breath coming out broken.
It was the most unshielded you had ever seen him, and you felt a sense of pride in the fact that it was you who had caused such a response.
âFuckinâ tight,â he groaned, pulling his hips back an inch only to thrust shallowly back into you. You whimpered at the feeling, the way he had your walls stretched so taut around him. âOh, fuâckinâ hellâŚâ
âFuck me,â you whined, grabbing him by the shoulder blades. You pressed sloppy kisses to his mouth and chin, âFuck me, fuck meââ It was a chant, a desperate repetition of your needs.
Maybe he captured you in another kiss to shut you up, but you didnât mind. When his tongue parted your lips just as he began to rock forward, you nearly bit down on it, letting out a broken cry that he swallowed happily.
âDonât want everybody 'earinâ you.â He shushed you, smirking into the kiss.
âDonâtâdonât care,â and you didnât; if this was how everybody in the barracks discovered your situation with Ghost, youâd be proud. âFeelsâyouâre so deep.â
âI know,â he was typically smug, but you could tell he was enjoying himself just as much as you were. âLift your hips, sweetheart.â Â
You did as he said, lifting your hips enough so that he had room to reach beneath your body and grope your ass, tugging you into every stroke.
âYeah, âatâs itâfuckinâ take it,â the pace of his thrusts increased. With his hands beneath your body, he straightened up, allowing himself to fuck into you deeper, rougher. âFuckinââfuck, take it, take it, sweetheart.â His head fell back as he moved, and you felt hypnotized by the way his chest heaved.
âJesus fuckingâSimon, pleaseââ You bit your lip, really and truly attempting to keep the volume of your cries for him down, but he wasnât making it easy. âSo goodâfeel so good, please, just like that.â
His jaw was clenched but his lips were parted, and he looked over you with an intense focus, training himself to identify every little bodily response from you, and every little thing he could do to earn those reactions.
âChrist, look't you, loveââ His lips curled into a fucked-out smirk, âDroolinâ jus' like your cunt.â
Dazed, you watched as he brought his hand down to your face, swiping the drool you hadnât even realized youâd produced from the side of your mouth with his thumb. He pressed the digit against your lips, and you opened, eagerly sucking his thumb while he continued his bruising pace.
He watched on as you moaned around him, filling you at both ends.
His words spilled out of him, the vulgar vice grip your cunt had on his cock working him to peak vulnerability.
âYou know âow long I wanted this?â He bent down, slowing his pace to offer long, deep strokes that were just as overwhelming as the previous, faster pace. ââOw long I wanted tâsee you droolinâ f'my cock? Wouldâa fucked you every night you slept with meâfâyou said thatâs what you wanted, wouldâa fucked you with âat bullet in my ribs.â
You could feel his cock punching against your cervix, the sharp, brief pain in your abdomen immediately fading to make room for the pleasure. And even so, with him encroaching on you like this, forcing you to take him as deep as you physically could, you still wanted more.
You moaned, irrepressibly needy as your hands wandered over his body above you.
Straightening up again, Simon pulled his thumb from your mouth. He took it between his own lips, tasting your spit and saturating the digit further before lowering it to your clit and rubbing circles over you.
âSo fuckinâ stubbornâyouâre a brat, ând even when you make me pull my fuckinâ 'air out, Iâd still let you do anythin' you want,â he couldnât stop talking, and you were fine with it. His rambling on about his desire for you, paired with the motion of his hips, had you hurtling towards your second high. âFuck, you feel goodâfuck.â Â
You thought maybe when he tilted his head down, eyes closing as he dropped his chin to his chest, that he was done talking. For a moment, it seemed that way, his attention refocusing completely on your body, as he collected himself and moved lower to hover over you again; nipping at the skin of your chest and licking stripes over your tits, moving his hand from your clit and kneading the pillowy flesh of your breasts.
But he moved to look down at you directly, nose brushing your own, and there was a flash of something in his eyesâsoft and completely exposed.
âI love you.â He said it like a secret, the quietest cadence youâd ever heard him take on.
For a moment you thought maybe you were dreaming againâthe nightmares morphing into something more akin to psychological warfare that you would wake up from and miss as if it were a nostalgic memory.
But then he said your name.
âIâfuckâI love you.â His breath hitched, and he was clearly attempting to distract himself from your silence by burying his cock into you deeper.
It made you moan wantonlyâboth his actions and his words hitting you somewhere deep, and you let out a gasp, reaching up to cup his cheek and letting your thumb trace one of the longer scars.
âI love you.â You echoed, meaning it more sincerely than anything youâd ever said to him, and though his brow furrowed slightly, he smiled.
âAgain,â he panted above you, âShit, say it again.â
âI love you,â you repeated, hand trailing behind his head and fingers combing through his hair, âI love you, Simon. I love you.â It was the second time in the span of a few hours that youâd found yourself chanting for him, and you were quite pleased.
âFuckinâââ he sped up again, thrusting into you enough that the bedframe knocked against the wall. You almost felt sorry for whichever poor soul bunked next door. ââAtâs it, sweetheart, let me âear you.â
He was delirious with lust, overwhelmed by his affection for you. And while it wasnât something he was used to in any respect, he was certainly enjoying it.
âYou fuckinâ tell meâyou cum on my cock and you fuckinâ tell me âow much you love it.â
He brought his hand back down to your clit, and your back arched off the mattress when he pressed down onto the bud, massaging over it in time with his thrusts.
âLet me see my pretty girl cum again.â He cooed over you.
His phrasing made you moan. His pretty girl; it rattled around in your brain and you let out a breathy sigh of approval.
âYour pretty girlâŚâ
ââAtâs what I said, sweetheart,â he nodded, and he would've been smiling if his focus wasn't entirely taken up on warding off his high. âOne more, love. Câmon and gimme what I want.â He growled his words, briefly removing his fingers from your clit to pull your ankles over his shoulders so that he could wrap an arm around your thighs and hold you against him. âFuâuck, tight little cuntâŚâ
He kissed your ankle, replacing his fingers on your clit once more and watching your face contort in pleasure.
âSimon, fuckâdonât stop, donât stop,â you stuttered through your whimpers, feeling the familiar heat build in your abdomen, âIâm gonna cumâpleaseâlike that, Iâm gonna cum.â
He groaned, applying more pressure to your clit as he massaged it to the rhythm of his thrusts.
âGo on, sweetheart, gimme another one. Be a good girl, let me see your pretty face while you cum on my cock.â
You let yourself go completely.
âIâI love you,â you mustered the strength to follow his previous orders as the tug that built somewhere in your stomach finally culminated in a pleasant heat coating your skin. Your muscles tensed, your eyes rolling back enough that you could see colors distantly behind your eyelids.
âYeah, yeah you fuckinâ do. You fuckinâ love it. You love me, sweetheart.â Simon groaned, ââEre you goâsqueeze me tight like âat,â his hips stuttered as he fucked you through your high. âFuckinâ soak me. Good fuckinâ girl.â
His fingers dug into the skin of your thigh, trying to stave off his climax, if only for a moment longer, so that he could continue to enjoy the warm squeeze of your cunt.
When your moans became weaker, battling exhaustion to prolong the delicious overstimulation he offered you, Simon slid out of you with a grunt. He kept your legs up, keeping your thighs pressed together so that he could slip his cock between them and chase his own release.
âFuckââ you yelped when the underside of his cock swiped over your clit, craning your neck to watch him fuck himself with your thighs.
You could see his abs tighten, desperate moans falling from his lips, and he looked so utterly beautiful as he struggled to control himself against the pleasure.
âGonna fuckinâ stain you with my cum,â he heaved, rocking against you fervently, âWanna smell it on you. Mark you up nice, let everybody know who you belong toâshow âem 'ow good you are to your Lieutenant.â
âPlease,â you mumbled your plea, pressing your palm to the back of his hand where it rested on your thigh, âPleaseâŚâ
With his mouth agape, Simonâs brow furrowed, pushing his hips flush against the back of your thighs; he came with a low groan, bucking against you as he painted your stomach with his spend.
He panted, closing his mouth to swallow and staring down at you in a haze. He tilted his head back, heaving a satisfied sigh, before finding the motivation to move from the bed.
You felt a tug of melancholy, a sudden discomfort in being parted from him, but you watched on as he found what he was looking for and returned to your side.
He wiped you clean with the same goddamn shirt that, as far as you were concerned, started all this.
You fell into a fit of laughter, the adrenaline morphing from physical pleasure to pure amusement.
Simon stared at you like you had two heads.
âAfter everything that poor fucking shirt has been through, youâre gonna use it as a cum rag?â You tried to explain, and you watched his lips curl into a smile.
âBetter a cum towel âan a tourniquet.â He quipped, quirking a brow at you.
âJust got the blood outâŚâ You grumbled playfully, and he tossed the shirt off to the side somewhere.
âYouâll live.â He sighed, pressing his palm into your now clean, if not a bit sticky, stomach and appreciating your warmth.
After he had taken a moment to admire you where you lay on your back, he stood, walking around the bed to situate himself next to you. When heâd made himself comfortable, he wrapped an arm around your hips, pushing you onto your right side before tugging you into him.
âNever thought Iâd be spooning with Simon Riley.â You sighed, placing your hand over his where it rested on your stomach.
âConsider yâself lucky.â He chuckled.
You fell into a peaceful lull, wrapped up in each other and silent.
âYou love me.â You werenât asking, more so reassuring yourself with a quick statement to ensure that what heâd said in the heat of the moment was true.
âI do,â he nosed your neck, kissing you softly. âI love you.â
âI love you, too.â You whispered it, bringing his hand up from your stomach to kiss his knuckles.
He hummed quietly, and you continued to plant soft kisses over his hand until you were satisfied.
âYou still mad at me?â He questioned, and you laughed.
âYou really have to ask?â
âGood to be certain.â He sighed, and you shook your head, grinning.
âI donât want to sleep in your room tonight.â You muttered.
âDonât âave to,â he responded in a similarly soft tone, âWonât make you. Say the word, Iâll leave. You can get some sleep.â
âNo,â you smiled at his lack of awareness, âDonât want to sleep in your roomâwant you to sleep here.â
He was quiet for a moment. You looked over your shoulder, uncertain, and he was already looking back at you with a smug grin.
ââAtâs what you want?â
âYeah.â
âGood. Sâwhat I want, too.â
You rolled your eyes, pressing your back to his chest.
âGonna sleep without your mask on?â You teased, eyeing the balaclava where it lay on the floor amongst the rest of your discarded clothes.
âMight as well,â he huffed a laugh, âCockâs outânobodyâll notice my face if they come in.â
âI will.â
âI want you to.â He sighed, pressing himself against you so that your head rested beneath his chin.
âGood,â you yawned, âThatâs what I want, too.â
Simon chuckled softly, leaning back to reach for the lamp on the nightstand and clicking it off. There was another stretch of comfortable silence, and you felt the soft edges of sleep begin to take hold.
âIâm glad youâre alive.â Simon whispered into the darkness of your room.
âI know,â you were just awake enough to respond, âI love you, too, Simon.â
You fell asleep with his arm draped over you, perched over your hips rather than your waist, his hand pressed lightly against your stomach. But this time, you were both under the covers.
âLike my work? Buy me a ko-fi :)â
#call of duty#call of duty smut#call of duty fic#call of duty fanfic#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley#simon riley fanfic#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost cod smut#cod#cod smut#cod fanfic
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For you Ekko reqs, may I suggest R and Ekko hurt/comfort where Ekko slowly confides with R about what happened at the end of show (like probably a year or 2 of Ekko trying to process everything) and how he sometimes wished he stayed at the alt timeline? 𼲠Just him processing his grief of everything while R comforts him. Mans deserves better
-đ
Ahhhhh writing this made me tear up ngl 𼲠I hope you like it! â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.3k
Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, can be read as platonic, cw violence mention, cw injury mention, cw blood and death mention, hurt/comfort.
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Ęâ ¡â á´Ľâ ¡â Ę
âEkko?â Your call is carried by the cool autumn wind, breeze fluttering your lashes as you stare at his back. You see him shrink in his seat, face hidden on the crook of his elbow. Walking closer, footsteps clanging against the metal balcony where you always find him on the same day it all happened. âYou'll catch a cold up here.â
Piltover shines in front of you, warm light flickering off by the windows as people settle in for the night. But the glimmering fire paper still flies above the city, its light fading as it burns out in the breeze. It's the anniversary of that day, the day Piltover and Zaun saw war right on their doorstep.
Your arm aches, a phantom pain ebbing in and out when your mind goes back to that exact day where the sky was covered in searing smoke, and the streets splashed in warm crimson. Thumb brushing along your scar, it's a mark, a reminder of what was lost that day.
After a minute, Ekko sighs, still unmoving on his spot. âI'm not leaving.â
âI'm not trying to make you leave.â You fetch the blanket that was folded and draped over your shoulder. âI have a blanket for you. If you want it.â
He turns his head slowly over to you, mind playing tricks on him as he sees the flash of you bleeding and yelling for him. Eyes bloodshot, skin clammy and marred with blood. As fast as it came, he blinked and it's gone. Vision returning to the present, the present that wouldn't be possible if not for his sacrifice.
âDon't just gawk at me, bossman,â you smile gently at him, the blanket now unfurled in front of you, ready to drape it over his trembling form. âDo you want it or not?â
The corner of his lip curls up in a small smile, his eyes are tired, weighed down by the world. âCome sit down?â
He has never asked you to join him. You always left him alone up here whenever the anniversary comes around, thinking that's what he needed. But you always waited patiently just outside the door, sitting down on the cold steps while you let grief wash over you like the tides. Until it's time to pick yourself up again at the sound of the door opening. His hand helping you up wordlessly, grief holding the two of you in place, mourning together silently. When morning comes, everything seems to go back in place. The sun still shines, the world still breathes. But it lingers, that grief that has etched itself in your bones, sorrow that lives in his chest, weighing him down but never letting it fester and spread.
You two continue to fight, to improve the very place where blood has been spilled. Carry their memories, their names and their voices until the end. Lest their sacrifices would be in vain. Ekko's sacrifice would be in vain. He deserves better, to not bear the heaviness left in his soul.
âAre you just gonna gawk there or will you take a seat?â He uses your own words against you.
âCan't help it,â you say, heart pounding in your chest as you take a seat right next to him. Giving him enough space, but close enough to see his heavy eyes marred by unshed tears. âYou look good under the moonlight.â You joke in an attempt to make him smile.
Ekko manages to chuckle softly, letting you drape the fluffy blanket around his shoulders. Your warm fingers grazing along his cool skin, sending goosebumps on his lean arms.
âDo you find my frown charming?â
You smile kindly, knuckles brushing down his goosebumps. âItâs the tear stained cheeks that gets me everytime.â
He scoffs with a small smile, attention turned towards the Piltover sky. The smell of burnt paper and violets linger in the air, frown deepening at his racing thoughts.
âWill you stay?â
With trepidation, you take his hand in yours, giving him enough time to pull away. He doesn't, instead, he weaves his fingers around yours. His grip is weak, but you can feel how much he needed it by how his eyes stare at your joined hands.
âOf course, whatever you need, Ekko.â You'll stay forever if he asks.
He nods, eyes staying downturned. âI wanted to stay at that place.â Letting out a shaky breath, he closes his eyes, trying to remember what they look like in his mind's eye. Faces that he once thought that he'll never see again. Faces that he had to say goodbye to. âBut that would be selfish. I couldn'tââ you squeeze his hand. ââI couldn't just leave this place and let it burn.â
The last two years have melded together in your head. All those months of waiting for him at the edge of the hideout, never losing hope, not even when they declared him dead. And then the war came, and you two didn't have the time to reunite, until it ended with you laying half dead on the streets of Piltover. Waking up to him holding your hand in a grip, wishing for you to open your eyes. And you did. A year later, he comes to you, angry and furious, wanting to let it all out. You still remember the day he told you exactly what happened when he disappeared for months like it was yesterday.
He recalls it all like it was a dream, a dream that was destined to be forgotten once he awakes. He didn't want to wake up, not when everything he always dreamed of was there. He gripped onto you tightly that day, held onto you until the sun rose. Nothing was left unsaid, his story left a hole in your heart, wishing that you've seen it for yourself. But you're afraid that you wouldn't be strong enough to leave, as strong as him who made a difficult choice to leave.
He has experienced unthinkable loss, a longing you've never felt. You don't have the exact words to comfort him, to soothe his want, so you move closer to him, fixing where the blanket has fallen and wrapping it over his body like a warm cocoon. You could only hope that it's enough, but you know it will never be enough.
Ekko tucks his head on your shoulder, hand finding its way over to your raised scar. His thumb traces along the skin, feeling your warmth and in turn comforting you. He knows the pain you're in too, he witnessed it, all the nights you've hid away only to come back with red eyes and grief etched on your face.
âI couldn't leave you and Zaun behind.â He mumbles against your shoulder.
Your heart wretches out of your chest. âIt wouldn't be selfish.â You say, whispering it into the air around you. âI thinkâ I would've done what you wanted to do. I wouldn't be strong enough to leave, but you did.â He leans away, eyes soft and shining under the moonlight as he meets with your eyes. âYou're brave, Ekko. You might not want everyone to know what you had to do to save everyone, but I know. And I'm forever grateful for what you did. For what you have sacrificed so we could live. I'll remember it until I can't, even then, I'll try not to forget.â Cupping his jaw, you watch as a tear slides down. You wipe it away gingerly, smiling at him as he leans against your warmth, eyes closing, shoulders slumping with every word you utter. âYou did well, Ekko.â
He moves forward, leaning his forehead against your own, affection radiating off him. âThank you.â
âWe'll be okay. We have time.â
âI know.â He has seen it, one day that dream will come true.
With a tender squeeze, his hand takes the other edge of the blanket, pulling and covering you with its warmth right next to him.
#request done#ekko fanfiction#ekko fanfic#ekko x reader#the kr8tor's creations#arcane ekko#arcane ekko x reader#ekko arcane x reader#cw violence mention#cw injury mention#cw blood and death mention#ekko imagines#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#arcane fanfiction#ekko x you#ekko hurt/comfort#x reader#fanfic#ekko x fem! reader
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mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni
request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please đŽâđ¨"
dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"â where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.
she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.
"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.
"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak upâ "hey... im alright but thank yo-"
"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.
"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.
"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.
"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."
jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budgeâ obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.
"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.
your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."
the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.
"you two. out. now."
it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.
"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.
"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speakâ "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.
"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.
"im sorrâ" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.
"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.
"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"â you quote her. "its clear he had money..."
this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.
"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.
"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.
her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.
"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.
"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.
"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.
her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.
"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.
"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.
"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.
"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.
"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.
"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.
in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.
thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3
#part 2 maybeeee???#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane smut#jinx arcane#jinx#jinx x reader#jinx smut#nsfw.mp3 đŤ§
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Hello there!
Congratulations on 4,500 followers!
May I request a NSFW prompt 30: come closer and keep me warm or something like with F! Reader x Mayday, please?
He needs more love!
Warmth in the Night*** đ
𫧠pairings: Commander Mayday X Female!Reader
word count: 1.9k
prompts:
⢠âCome here and keep me warm.â
plot: Trapped with nothing but a lousy flickering fusion lantern to keep you both warm, yourself and Mayday decide to take advantage of this time alone.
warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Established relationship, cuddling (amongst other things) for warmth, kissing, consensual sex, p in v sex, cock warming, dirty talk, explicit sexual content language, praising, fingering, trapped in a snow storm.
authors note: im so sorry for the wait @ladypunz and I apologise itâs short! But youâre right, he does deserve some love!
âDo you think itâll hold?â you ask, your voice trembling as much from the cold as the worry gnawing at you. Together, yourself and Mayday had managed to barricade the rickety door of the abandoned shack youâd stumbled upon, but the raging blizzard outside wasnât letting up.
Mayday steps back, eyeing the door with his hands on his hips. âShould do,â he says, his tone calm but a little cautious. âAnd if not⌠well, weâll cross that bridge when we get to it.â
You try to laugh, but the bitter cold seeps into every part of you, stealing the sound before it can form. Stars, the bitter breeze stabs at your skin like little needles.
Pushing aside your discomfort, you move to help him gather whatever scraps of blankets and fabric you can find and then drape them around a fusion lantern. It was the only thing providing little warm but its light flickers weakly, threatening to go out at any moment. The thought of it completely shutting down makes you nervous which doesnât go unnoticed by Mayday.
Setting his helmet on a cracked, uneven table, he steps closer, his gloved hand brushing against your frosty cheek. His touch was warm despite the frigid air.
âDonât worry,â he says, his voice steady and reassuring. âWeâll get through this. Weâll rest tonight, and by morning, the storm will have passed. Then weâll make our way to the rendezvous point.â
You lean into his touch, seeking out the comfort it offers, and before you know it, your arms are around his waist, clinging to him as if heâs the only thing keeping you knitted to warmth and safety. âAt least Iâm with you,â you say softly.
His lips curve into a fond smile as he wraps his arms around you, his hands rubbing gently up and down your back in an effort to warm you. âLikewise.â
You were both meant to be delivering supplies to an outpost but were caught off guard by the sudden storm and luckily, you and Mayday had been together for a while now. He liked to tease that you fell for him first, and while that wasnât entirely untrue, it didnât mean he didnât fall harder. He was everything you wanted in a relationship and you were glad he was so calm in a rather precarious situation.
âHow are we on rations?â you ask after a moment, sitting down on the pile of tattered blankets whilst he pushes a broken table against the door just for a little extra reinforcement.
He grabs his pack, rummages around, and pulls out two ration bars, offering a wry smile as he hands you one. âAt least itâs the flavor you like.â
âLucky me,â you mutter with a half-smile, taking the bar and nibbling on it. If you were going to be stuck here, you wanted it to last.
Once the makeshift barricades are as secure as theyâll get, Mayday settles in beside you, the two of you huddling under the pile of blankets. The only light comes from the pathetic sputtering lantern, and the majority of warmth from each other. Despite your best efforts, your teeth chatter relentlessly.
Mayday drapes an arm over you, pulling you closer until your back is tucked against his chest. âCome here,â he says, his voice low and soft. âKeep me warm.â
You donât hesitate, nestling into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His warmth envelops you, a small reprieve from the biting cold.
âThatâs better, isnât it?â he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the back of your head.
âA little bit,â you admit, your breath shaky, though you canât deny how much this was helping.
Night falls swiftly, the wind still screaming against your shelter. âI hope this storm ends soon,â you whisper, your voice barely audible above the howl of the wind.
âMe too,â Mayday replies, his arms tightening around you. âBut at least the companyâs good, right?â
You smile despite everything, catching the teasing lilt in his voice. âItâs perfect,â
âYou know,â Mayday murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his fingers trace gentle patterns across your stomach, âitâs been a while since weâve had some time alone.â
Your eyes, which had been closed in contentment, flutter open. A playful smirk spreads across your lips as you tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze. âYouâre right,â you say softly, your voice holding a hint of mischief. âIt has been a while.â
Maydayâs answering smirk is wicked, a flicker of heat sparking in his inviting eyes. He leans down, capturing your lips with his, the kiss starting soft but quickly deepening into something more needy.
A gasp escapes you as his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You turn fully to face him, your fingers threading through the textured strands of his long hair, tugging gently. The sensation draws a low groan from his throat, his lips parting against yours as your tongue slips into his mouth.
The kiss turns hungrier, more demanding, as his hands begin to wander. One gloved hand peels away, and when his now-bare palm glides over your skin, the chill of his touch makes you gasp again.
His lips curve into a smirk against yours, and his free hand slips lower, exploring with deliberate slowness until it finds the waistband of your pants. He pauses for just a moment, enough to let anticipation coil tightly in your chest, before sliding his hand inside.
You tremble under his touch, his fingers brushing against your folds. The coldness of his skin sends shivers across your body, but it only heightens the heat rapidly building between you.
âAlready wet for me?â he murmurs darkly, his lips brushing against yours. His thumb circles your clit with an intense and measured pace, and he bites down lightly on your lower lip. âYou needy girl.â
A whimper escapes you, your body arching into his hand as waves of pleasure roll through you. âC-canât help it,â you stammer, your voice breathless. âYouâve been neglecting me.â
A low groan rumbles deep in his chest, his mouth moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath is warm against you, a stark contrast to the icy air around you.
âLet me fix that.â
His fingers move with purpose now, sliding against you with expert precision. Every flick of his thumb, every stroke of his hand, draws soft gasps and moans from your lips. The storm outside is forgotten, the cold replaced by the searing heat of his touch.
âMayday, shit⌠donât stop,â you plead, your voice trembling as you clutch his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his under-armor.
He grins, a low, knowing chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tugs your pants down just enough to give his hand the space it needs. His fingers slide against you, then press inside, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. The sound makes his grin widen. âYou feel so pretty,â he murmurs, his voice rough and reverent. âSo perfect.â
Your hips buck instinctively against his hand, desperate for more. A string of curses falls from your lips as he adds another finger, spreading you open with a skilled, deliberate rhythm. His lips find your neck again, trailing hot, searing kisses along your skin that make you shudder beneath him.
âStars, Iâm g-gonnaââ you stammer, the words caught in your throat as the pressure inside you builds to a dizzying peak after a measly few minutes.
âYes, you are,â he growls, his voice laced with hungry satisfaction. His lips leave your neck, his gaze locking onto yours as he watches you unravel. Your eyes roll back, your body arching as pleasure crashes over you in an uncontrollable wave.
You come undone, trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. âYes, you fucking are,â he says, his voice thick with pride, his fingers slowing but never stopping, coaxing every last ounce of bliss from you.
Stars blurred your vision, your body trembling as waves of you come down from your high. You felt drunk on his touch, the aftershocks of your climax leaving you breathless and spent. Sweat glistened on your brow, your legs shaking as you tried to steady yourself.
âThatâs it,â Mayday murmured in your ear, his voice low and soothing. He withdrew his fingers carefully, his touch lingering for just a moment before he lifted his hand into the faint glow of the lantern. Slick with your arousal, his fingers shimmered in the dim light.
You closed your eyes briefly, letting the moment sink in, before looking up at him with a lazy, somewhat goofy smile. âI think itâs only fair if I return the favour.â
His lips form into a smirk, and without hesitation, he leaned down to kiss you, his mouth claiming yours with renewed desperation. As his tongue brushed against yours, your hands found their way to the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the latch. Mayday chuckled against your lips, helping you shove them down before kicking them off entirely.
Your breath hitched as his cock sprang free, thick and swollen with need. He gripped it lightly, stroking himself with deliberate slowness.
A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight, and an idea formed in your mind. You slipped your pants completely off and shifted closer, your hand wrapping around his length. He gasped at the initial contact, your touch cold against his heated skin, but the sound quickly melted into a groan as you aligned him with your entrance.
With a gentle roll of your hips, you guided him inside, both of you sighing as he stretched you open and settled deep within. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and he let out a sinful groan, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he buried his face in your chest.
âFuck, itâs been too long,â he rasped needily, âYou feel amazing.â
You bit your lip, your walls fluttering around him, clinging to every inch of him as he throbbed inside you. A teasing smile played on your lips as you whispered, âYou like this, Commander? You like being in my pussy?â
âI love it,â he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin and knowing full well that you calling him Commander gets him all hot and bothered. One of your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as you shifted your hips experimentally.
But before you could start moving in earnest, his grip on you tightened. âStop. Stop,â he panted, his tone commanding yet soft.
You froze, concern flickering in your eyes. âIs everything okay?â
âDonât move,â he said, his voice ragged. Pulling back slightly, he cupped your face with both hands, his gaze locking with yours. âYouâre keeping my cock so nice and warm.â
It took a moment for his words to register, but then a playful smile tugged at your lips. âUsing me as a cockwarmer, are you?â
âYes, baby,â he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. âYouâre so damn warm, and it feels so good. Just⌠let me stay like this for a while.â
Your smile softened, and you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his once more. âAnything you want.â
Settling against his chest, you let your body relax, your arms wrapping around him as his cock remained snugly sheathed inside you. He pulled the covers over the two of you, cocooning you both in warmth.
The storm outside howled, but for the first time in hours, you felt nothing but comfort. You didnât know how long this moment would last, but for now, you hoped the storm wouldnât let up anytime soonâŚ
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eek dad quinn when his wife is pregnant at the lake house or with a baby at the lake house during the summer đĽš
dad!quinn at the lake house during the summer? an absolute dreamboat
Thereâs just something about Quinn in this setting â like heâs been waiting all year to step into this version of himself. The way the air feels softer here, the mornings slower, the evenings stretching long past sunset without a single deadline in sight. It suits him, this pace, like it was made for him. Heâs completely at ease, the weight of the season, of the baby on the way, resting gently on his shoulders instead of pressing down.
For you and Quinn, itâs the perfect place to just be â to sink into the rhythm of each other and let the anticipation of whatâs coming linger in the background, soft and unspoken.
Youâre stretched out on a lounge chair on the dock, a book open in your lap, though your focus on the words comes and goes. Your bump catches the light, glistening from the sunscreen Quinn insisted on slathering over you before you even stepped outside.
âYouâll fry out here,â heâd said earlier, his voice soft but firm, his hands careful and thorough as he worked the lotion over your skin.
From the water, you hear the splash and laughter of Jack and Luke, their banter carrying across the stillness. Quinnâs voice threads through, low and easy, teasing one of them for losing balance on the paddleboard. You peek up over the top of your sunglasses just in time to see him dive off the dock, his form cutting cleanly into the water before surfacing, shaking his hair out with a grin that makes your chest ache. He belongs here, you think â not just to this place but to this version of himself. Easy, happy, home.
You lose yourself in your book again, the rhythm of the day lulling you into a haze. The sunlight feels heavier on your skin, the warmth almost coaxing you into sleep. You barely register the sound of footsteps on the dock, the creak of the boards under his weight and then â
âComfy?â His voice is low, teasing, and impossibly close.
You blink, startled, only to find Quinn leaning over you, dripping water all over your legs and the edge of your chair. His hair is soaked, beads of water clinging to his shoulders and dripping down his chest, his shorts clinging to his hips. Heâs grinning, his cheeks pink from the sun, his eyes bright.
âQuinn,â you say, your tone caught somewhere between amused and exasperated as you push your sunglasses up your nose. âYouâre dripping.â
âYeah,â he says, unbothered, leaning closer so the shadow of him blocks the sun. âYou didnât hear me call you.â
âI was reading,â you counter, though the grin tugging at your lips betrays you.
He hums, one hand bracing against the back of your chair, the other finding the armrest beside you. His gaze dips briefly to your belly, his smile softening before flicking back to your face.
âYouâre gonna burn,â he murmurs, brushing a finger lightly against your shoulder, where the strap of your dress has slipped just slightly.
âAm not,â you argue, though you donât stop him as he adjusts the strap, his knuckles skimming your skin.
His gaze lingers for a moment, his finger tracing a path along your shoulder with a tenderness that feels like second nature. And then his hand shifts, settling gently on the curve of your belly.
âHowâs she doing?â he asks softly, his voice barely louder than the sound of the waves lapping against the dock.
âSheâs good,â you say with a small smile, covering his hand with yours. âKicking a lot earlier. I think she likes it here.â
His thumb brushes against your belly in slow, absent circles, a habit heâs picked up in the past few months â like heâs already memorising the feeling of her. His lips tug into a quiet, lovesick smile, and for a second, heâs lost in the thought of her, of you, of everything waiting just around the corner.
âSheâs gonna love it here,â he says, almost to himself, his eyes faraway. âNext summer, weâll bring her down to the water. Show her the sand, maybe dip her toes in the lake.â
âAnd what if she hates it?â you tease, your voice light, though your heart races at the image heâs painting.
He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head like the very idea is impossible.Â
âShe wonât. Sheâs ours. Sheâll love it because we do.â
His grin widens, soft and lopsided, and before you can think of a reply, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss thatâs warm and lingering, carrying the faint taste of the lake.
âLove you,â he murmurs, his forehead pressing lightly against yours for a moment before he pulls back, the sun catching the drops of water sliding down his shoulders.
You laugh softly, shaking your head as he straightens, dripping wet and unapologetic, the soles of his feet leaving faint prints on the dock. Heâs already turning back toward the edge, Lukeâs shout drawing his attention. But just before he dives back in, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder at you.
His smile, soft and sure, holds something unspoken â like heâs anchoring the moment, holding it in his heart for safekeeping. Itâs the kind of look that makes your chest tighten, the kind that makes you feel seen, loved, completely his.
As he disappears back into the water, you stay there, fingers brushing absently over your bump. The sun warms your skin, the sound of his laughter mixing with the waves lapping against the dock. For a moment, it feels like everything â the lake house, your baby, the way he looked at you just now â is part of some beautiful, endless dream you never want to wake up from.
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On narrow, shaded streets we amble among the crowd, past at all the little souvenir shops hawking bags and t-shirts, postcards and beaded bracelets. I grin at a magnet of a little fat faced chef, riding a vespa with a pizza in his hand. Something about his expression reminds me of Jonas.
âMy stepdad used to buy magnets like that all the time,â Astrid says when I show her. âHe thought they were so funny, but my sisters and I hated them. Their faces are creepy. They leer at you. The day he broke up with our mother, we threw them immediately into the trash.â
I buy it anyway.Â
Outside a craft shop, she plucks a ceramic jug from a shelf to scrutinise. It is hand-painted in with delicate foliage in blue paint. âI think I could make something like this at university, donât you?â
âWell, maybe this trip will inspire a collection of work for your pottery class,â I say, and she lifts it up to the sun, glinting upon the glaze.Â
âItâs beautiful.âÂ
âWould you like it?â
She smiles. âI would. Itâs so unusual.â
I get it for her, then carry the little package, wrapped carefully in tissue paper, around as she flits from store to store, finding inspiration in the art she sees. Inspiration comes to me, too, in the colours, the shapes, the slash of sky in negative space between buildings. I photograph it all. The fruit stands little dogs sleeping in doorways, bougainvillea cascading down whitewashed buildings, and laugh with delight as a little yellow car squeezes a path through a crowd of pedestrians. I marvel at this little town, and all the pockets of the world that still cling to so much charm.
âThis is exactly what I needed,â says Astrid, on the terrace of a cafe overlooking the sea.Â
âCoffee?â
âYes, and all of this. The sun, the air. I have been so tired of Berlin lately, and the sky being so grey.â
âYouâve been bored.â
âA little, yes.â
We order coffees. Ristretto for her, Americano for me. The server eyes me with some savage combination of amusement and contempt. I imagine his thoughts. âOf course you would order this, American boy,â the man in my head says, and I force myself to smile at the real one. âThanksâ.Â
âGrazie.â Astrid hisses.
âOh, alright. Grazie. Sorry.â
As he returns with our order, he says something to Astrid in Italian. She responds, then him, and in front of me they have an entire conversation I cannot understand. I sit, sip my coffee, and wait for them to finish. Whatever he is saying, heâs very enthusiastic about it, gesticulating, hands moving passionately. I try not to be bothered when he points at me, and Astrid laughs at whatever he has to say, even though the heat of embarrassment rises to my face. If heâs saying something about me, I canât defend myself. How frustrating it is not to understand another language being spoken right in front of you. Eventually, he leaves, and she simply straightens her dress underneath her and takes a dainty sip of her coffee.Â
âWhat were you two talking about?â I say, after several moments.Â
âOh, nothing really. He was just asking me where we are from.â
âRight.â I trace the rim on my cup with my fingertip. âJust I think I understood something he said to you.â
Her brows rise in dull surprise. âOh?â
âBella,â I say, âAs in, beautiful.â
âOh, yes, he was talking about the weather. âUna giornata bellaâ, he said. âA beautiful dayâ.â
âWhat did he say about me?â
âAbout you?â
âYes. When he pointed at me.â
âHe said you donât look Danish, and I agreed, because you arenât.â
âOh.â
âYouâre self conscious?â
âNo, just, I didnât know what he was saying. I didnât know if he was flirting with you in front of my face.â
âItalian men are very passionate about a lot of things. Perhaps it looked like that, but he was being friendly.â
I exhale a laugh. âGiornata bella, huh?â
âIf he said âbellaâ regarding me, it wouldnât be okay?â
I pause. âWell, I donât know. Calling another guyâs girlfriend beautiful in front of him is kind of on the line between okay and not okay, donât you think?â
A shrug. âWhat if itâs true? Shouldnât we allow people to appreciate beauty? To see it, and say something? What if I like to hear it? Would you prefer to see me locked away from the world?â
âOf course not,â I scoff. âIâm not one of those weird boyfriends that only wants you for myself.â
âIâm glad you said that,â she gazes at a lone seabird, whirling, spiralling above the bay. âBecause I could never handle that. That will never be how we are.â
I smirk. âYes, maâam.â
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#lucky boy 2011#sims 4#ts4#sims 4 story#sims story#sims storytelling#sims 4 storytelling#simblr#simblr story#show us your story#show us your sims
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Snowed in
Adar x reader
A meeting with Adar took a quite pleasant turn thanks to bad weather.
Winter was in full swing. Most of Middle Earth's lands already covered in a thick layer of snow.
Mordor was next on the list, the reports of a storm closing in quickly spreading from one uruk town to the other. Some had found their settlements already with a light dusting of powdered snow overnight.
Your new home, once Tirharad and now the main uruk settlement where Adar resided, expected a storm soon.
Everyone was expected to either stay in their homes or at their workplace as to not get caught in the freezing snowfall.
And yet here you sat, patiently waiting for Adar to finish up his task before he'd discuss your needed things as advisor of all things mortal.
"Lord Father, Adar.." You stepped up beside him at the table. "You have been at this for days now, at least let me try to assist to we can discuss our planned items."
You wanted nothing more than to put your hands on his shoulders and squeeze. Undo some of the tension built up over days of not leaving his desk to work through winter plans. But you knew better than to touch him without permission, and you were not in the mood to lose a hand over something as small as this.
"Winter will be harsh. Wirh our current ways we will not have enough food to make it to spring." Adar's head hung low, hands in his hair as he let out a frustrated growl. He was the leader here, their Lord Father who had saved them and now couldn't even manage to get them through one winter after finally settling down..
"Adar, if I may.." With a slight tremble you reached for the papers that weren's stuck under his elbows and looked them over. The amount of details that were thought of, calculated and are being actively monitored were some of the most well done you had ever seen.
"Wait, what if we.." You dlid one of the papers back under Adar's nose, getting his attention once more and started laying down ideas. With each one you could see Adar's ears perk up, no longer drooping in a tired manner.
The ancient uruk was impressed, seeing a positive in this mess now. "So, I take you would have men take care of this? As it is their field of expertise. My uruk know nothing of this, so I also hope you will find someone who is willing to teach them."
Scribbling along, you both crossed issue after issue off the list, solving multiple at once with something as simple as what you suggested. You got so into the task it just kept going and going until a harsh gust of wind broke the door lock, making it slam against brick and have you both rush to close and secure it.
Adar watched you shiver and sulk. It looked like you stared at the storm outside through the wood paneling of the door.
With the door secured, Adar led you to the fireplace. It only downed on him now that mortals handled cold way worse than the uruk, and when your shivering wouldn't stop he offered you a large fur blanket.
Adar gave you time to get back to temperature, but quickly noticed you were too tired to continue your previous task.
All the while, you sat with your gaze on the fire. Your mind racing at how physically close you had been just now with your body between him and the door as he held it closed while you secured the lock. Oh you wanted to endlessly daydream about ways that could have escalated if you just weren't such a coward and confessed how you felt for your leader.
Adar had put your combined works aside for now and stared from a distance. Your tired frame, hunched over near the fire was a view he enjoyed. You fit well in his home, and once more he felt like a part of his mind cleared. He always saw mortals as lower creatures. Perhaps it was a remnant of his elven days that never left as he compared them now to the strength and endurance his uruk had.
But the mortals had smarts, techniques and ways of survival he had never in his long lifetime needed. And somehow he had never filed you together with the others. Not with how you presented yourself and willed to help both halves of this community Adar had built.
No, Adar saw you higher than the mortals, and now started to see a positive in having you as his equal.
There, in the safety of Adar's home, two minds raced. Silence took over the place, only the crackle of the fireplace sounding in the corner.
A contrast lay in the room.
On one end, close to the door and far into the shadow where small tabletop candles had burned out. Where the cold creeped through the cracks in the doorframe stood Adar, who's mind fought wether the human would even care for the ancient monstrosity rhat had captured her and forced her to live in his wretched lands.
Words of his children floated by. Words of his affection towards the mortal advisor. He had always dismissed them, for he knew he respected her for her openness towards the uruk, and her clear vision of how the two kinds would live alongside. But his uruk felt it was affection. Some even dared to call it love and it had Adar almost act on their teasing multiple times, but always shut it down just in time for her not to notice.
And on the other, covered in firelight and warmth sat you. Head unable to stop screaming to pull him towards you into the comfort of the blankets you sat on.
Voices of the many female uruk you spend time with spoke all at once. The eldest ones who joked about your longing stares. And the ones who you assumed shared your age, who made every suggestion under the hidden sun to get his attention. To go talk to him and charm him. To wear that pretty dress and seduce him. Surely Adar would be excited to lay with a pretty lady in a pretty dress, as they said.
But why would a being with such skill and life experience, with such knowledge and power be interested in a mere mortal? It was your last thought before your body gave in to sleep.
Adar didn't need sleep as much as you did, so he sat and watched you, read once again over your scribbled notes until he heard something.
You were shivering. The fire had gone down to smoldering coals and he had barely noticed the change in temperature. Yet you suffered in the cold.
With a new plan in mind Adar moved to the bedtoom, where he rid himself of his armor and left him in just his trousers and undershirt. Bare feet padded along the wooden floorboards on his way to pick you up. His bed was warmer, and if he took the furs you had already laid on and warmed with yoir body heat he could make sure you stayed warm.
You hadn't stirred awake during his process which eased his mind, but still you would not stop regain warmth. He had stayed inthe room with you, watching to calm his own mind that cursed at him for failing you so badly.
He thought of his children. Hoe would they respond if they knew their Lord Father was failing at the simple task of keeping the mortal from freezing.
His children.
The youngest ones who'd all pile up together and huddle up for warmth, sharing body heat.
Lords, he was an idiot.
What? No. There was no way you'd be okay with it. You'd wake up and demand to leave, unable to be that close to a foul creature like himself.
He had to. He knew it would work, so pushing every burning curse from his mind he removed his shirt, laid it over the furs you slept underneath and used all he had left of his elven self to be as light on his feet as he could, crawling into bed with you.
You stirred. You woke up and Adar mentally tore himself to shreds for ruining your sleep.
"Adar?" You didn't dare to turn and look, and a confirmed hum made it so you didn't need to.
"You were cold. I hoped to keep you warm." In his anger he disconnected himself from you and earned a sad almost whine, feeling you press your back against his chest once more and grabbing to find his arm and pull it against you.
Adar's arm. The one you had never seen uncovered, always hidden underneath long sleeves and that large gauntlet.
"Thank you." A quiet mumble was all you managed, Adar's warmth already affecting you. Not that he had heard you. Not with his full focus on your fingers tracing his twisted, scarred arm with the most gentle touch he had ever felt.
So there it was. The one action that disspelled his demons shouting he would never be loved by another. You cared for him like he cared for you.
With a soft, shaky breath he pressed his lips against the back of your head. "Sleep well." He uttered against your scalp, pulling you tighter against him and nuzzling into you.
It was overwhelming, how you were being handled so gently and with such love. So your differences never truly mattered after all.
You both slept better than ever. So much that you slept long past the storm outside, much yo the worry of Adar's children.
GlĂťg was the one tasked with checking on him whenever he did not show up and dared not to wake you both.
Once the two of you had gotten ready to leave the house, the whole town was in celebration of their Lord Father finally having taken home the fair mortal lady.
And the women happily informed you of uruk breeding habits, leaving you red-faced and fleeing the scene.
#sometimes i write#adar#stepdadar#adar x reader#adar imagine#adar fanfic#adar rop#trop adar#the rings of power#trop#rings of power#lotr#tolkien
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Losing My Mind over Veilguard 8/??
See, I waited a perfectly reasonable amount of time before coming in swinging again but I actually cannot get over how dead the game is. Literally. (Me ranting about an early game quest in Minrathous incoming)
Spoilers below the break
So. The first time you go to dock town? And Neve says in one of seventy different ways "no you don't have to come with me, this is my home not yours, I can handle this myself if you want to stay back" ?(but the showing not telling argument is for another day so I'll refocus and conserve energy for another day). Anyways.
This quest. The one where you go into the chantry in Minrathous and surprise!
Dead bodies absolutely EVERYWHERE.
I took a screenshot and then lost it, but it's worth mentioning that in my game, Neve's line of dialogue above about tracking down family and friends of the deceased didn't even trigger. If it had, however, I still would have lost my mind.
Why, you might ask?
Because after counting, losing count because I was counting so high, and then recounting about seven thousand times I can confidently tell you that plus or minus two to three more corpses, there are EIGHTY SIX dead bodies in the CHANTRY. The holy center of an incredibly popular religion! And even if it weren't that! It is a massive grounds with EIGHTY SIX DEAD PEOPLE who were KILLED HORRIFICALLY BY THE VENATORI AND DEMONS. How are you going to have the time to track down next of kin for that many people? And WHY are we acting like this is NORMAL?!
Dock Town is played very one-note already as a neighborhood where sketchy things happen and people go missing and it's best to just keep your head down if you're not in a position to do something about it.
But oh my sweet baby Maker come onnnnnnn.
You aren't going to recover from this if you're this branch of the Chantry. Presumably, you've just taken a massive hit across all levels of your religious hierarchy and that takes time and training to fill. And dock town is poor as hell, so where are you going to get the funding to fix this sudden staffing issue?
How does this affect (per @housederiva's iconic posts) Viper? Ya know, the guy we have found out through datamining is literally the Black Divine?? All we see (in the scenario where Treviso is saved) is him sadly sitting outside the chantry going "we remember the fallen" and that's presumably for the people lost when the dragon attacked, with nothing spared for the (again, I can't not lose my mind over this) eighty six dead people who were devoted to the same cause he is!
A whole smattering of holy women have just been yeeted off the mortal coil and it means absolutely nothing to your immediate party save for some of the emptiest lines ever, the city as a whole, or in the larger lore of the game. At all.
There are so many moments like this that had me rapidly oscilating between screaming at my ceiling and looking exactly like this:
And this isn't even something they can pass off as being too tied to the source material and wanting to start "fresh". This is just lazy, empty, disappointing storytelling and it's why I lose my mind a little more every time I see an ardent defender of the game tell an older fan to "get over it" or "let go of your expectations."
Because having something like (so sorry) EIGHTY SIX DEATHS go down with actually NO ripples throughout the rest of the game coming from ANY studio, let alone one that used to kill this kind of thing, is crazy to me. And I will die on that hill, even if it means Neve just kind of skips over my body on her way to find my next of kin only to never spare me another thought again.
#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard critical#datv critical#dragon age veilguard#datv spoilers#veilguard critical
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Malleus x reader: Malleus is trying to ask reader out by using fae courting
TW: Malleus being adorable and you being oblivious, not proof read
The reader will just be referred to as you (like you yourself not Yuu)
You were making dinner for you and grim (or trying to with whatever you could scrounge up) when you heard some rustling outside your dorm, honestly you werenât really surprised by the odd noise, it wasnât uncommon for one of your friends to escape there house warden and show up at your door so you put down the bag of rice in your hand, went to your door, and opened it to find⌠nothing, well not exactly nothing just nobody. The only thing there was a small pile of shiny things like some coins a few pins and a particularly cool rock, you smiled and picked up the trinkets knowing exactly who had put them there, this had been happening for a few weeks now. Youâd hear rustling and go out to check only to find a pile of shiny things. Now you knew it was none other than your friend Malleus, and you knew it was him because the first time this happened you looked around to find the culprit and saw him hiding in a nearby bush, you wouldnât have been able to spot him if it werenât for the two distinct horns coming out of the rather shaken up bush, you just giggled to yourself and and rolled your eyes as you picked up the gifts and then watched from a window as he scurried out of the bush and disappeared in a cloud of green. This wasnât the only new behavior of your friend, in the past few weeks you had noticed he had been a lot more touchy, not that you minded, heâd rub his cheek on yours and nudge you lovingly, heâd want to cuddle more than usual and heâd often place your hands on his cheeks. He had also asked you to help him clean his horns (a very big step for fae, to touch oneâs horns is very intimate) you of course agreed youâd lay his head in your lap as you gently scrubbed and polished his horns, youâd massage the base of his horns and his scalp too which he enjoyed very much. Malleus was aware you had no idea about fae courting however he assumed youâd catch on. (You didnât) you loved Mall very much but you didnât want to call you two anything other than friends incase Malleus didnât feel the same, he on the other hand had assumed by now that you were already dating, after all you did accept all his gifts and physical affection, you had even been giving him gifts too! (Including a gargoyle plush you made for him) you only caught on when he finally made a VERY clearly romantic moveâŚ
You: *complaining about how you and grim have nowhere to go during school break*
Malleus: âchild of man, why not just come with me to Briar Valley? Iâm sure my grandmother would be delighted to meet my partner and you can even bring your large rat (Grim) with youâ
You: âthank you Malmal! Iâd love to come stay with youâŚâ
You: âwait partner?????â
@orpydorpy
I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!!! I tried to do as much research on fae courting (especially dragons) as I could, and Iâm really sorry if there is spelling errors I have dysgraphia so please forgive me đ
#incorrect quotes#twst#disney twst#twst incorrect quotes#twst wonderland#tumblr milestone#twisted wonderland#twst malleus x reader#malleus draconia#twst x yuu funny#mallyuu#first fanfic#ahhhhhhhhhhhhh#i hope you like it#fae folk
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In Your Car
Summary: When a forbidden attraction ignites between you and Cillian Murphy, your stepfatherâs best friend, a simple drive in his car turns into a dangerously seductive night neither of you can resist.
Warnings: Age gap, smut.
Notes: hi loves. sorry it took me so long to update any story. i promise im going to be more active from now on. as an apology i bring to you this smutty one shot. its pure filth! enjoy.
************
The sun was just setting, and the city lights cast a soft glow through the streets as dusk deepened into night. You leaned in close to the mirror, swiping on a touch of gloss to make sure your lips looked just right. With a final check, you dusted a hint of blush over your cheeks, giving them a warm, natural flush. Just as you finished, you heard a familiar sound from outside.
Beep. Beep.
You peered through your bedroom window to see the man you'd been waiting for. Cillianâs sleek car idled by the curb, his arm draped casually over the open window as he glanced up, looking effortlessly cool.
You had known each other for a while now, but from the moment you met his piercing blue eyes, you couldn't get him out of your head. He was Paulâsâyour stepfatherâsâbest friend, and when your mum and Paul moved in together, Cillian quickly became a regular guest at birthdays and random Friday night dinners.
At 48, Cillian was a seasoned actor with an easy charm, and his celebrity status had always intrigued you. But beyond that, he was genuinely kind and insightful, someone who made you feel seen in a way few others did. You admired his intelligence and the way he seemed to genuinely find you interesting, not just a "kid" tagging along.
Unbeknownst to you, he saw you as more than just Paul's stepdaughter. He enjoyed your company and was constantly surprised by your wit and insight. He appreciated the way you carried yourselfâso youthful, confident, and quick to laugh. But there was no denying how beautiful he found you, even if he tried not to entertain the thought.
When the weather turned warmer, and you showed up in dresses that hugged your hips or swimsuits that left little to the imagination, he couldnât help but steal glances. Each time, he caught himself, mentally reminding himself that you were off-limits. But it was complicatedâhe knew you were no longer a child. Nineteen now, freshly turned, and he couldnât resist noticing how captivating youâd become.
Ever since you met him at 17, heâd stirred something in you, a curiosity and attraction you couldnât shake. He was the firstâand onlyâman you ever fantasized about when you touched yourself. Youâd always had a thing for older men, and unlike the boys your age, he had a calm confidence and depth that drew you in. The musky aftershave he wore had you clenching your thighs together more times than you cared to admit.
The way he carried himselfâwith quiet confidence, intelligence, and a touch of shynessâmade your stomach flutter every time. Cillian was a gentleman to the core, but he had no idea what his mere presence did to you. Some nights, you found yourself wishing heâd just throw caution to the wind, come to your room, and fuck your brains out.
It wasnât like you were particularly sexual before him. Boys and hookups never interested you, and you were still a virgin. But Cillian? He was different.
âCanât you knock, like the gentleman you are?â you teased, leaning out the window with a playful grin.
He smirked, glancing up at you with that familiar glint in his eyes. âAnd miss the grand entrance?â he quipped, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. âCome on down, love. Give me a kiss.â
Butterflies swirled in your stomach as you grabbed your bag and hurried downstairs, excitement bubbling beneath your skin. You sauntered toward his car, fully aware of the sway in your hips and how his gaze lingered on you. His eyes followed every curve, heating your skin.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you leaned over to greet him with a light kiss, your lips brushing his. The tip of your tongue grazed his in a brief, teasing flick before you pulled back, leaving him wanting more.
âThis is a nice ride,â you said casually, running your fingers along the smooth leather of the interior as he pulled away from the curb.
He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a knowing smirk. âNice, is it? Wait till you see where it takes you.â
You laughed, the cheesy line making you roll your eyes even as you felt your heart race. As the city lights blurred past, his hand moved from the gear shift to your thigh, his fingers resting lightly at first, then tracing slow, idle circles against your skin. A spark shot through you, warmth pooling deep in your core.
âYou always drive this fast,â you teased, glancing over at him, âor are you just trying to impress me?â
His lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, his eyes flicking briefly to yours before returning to the road. âDepends,â he said, voice like honey. âIs it working?â
You chuckled, leaning back in your seat with a coy smile. âHmm⌠maybe a little. But youâll have to do better than that, Cillian.â
âHe raised an eyebrow, his thumb pausing for a moment before resuming its lazy motion on your thigh. âOh, Iâm just getting started, love,â he murmured, his accent thickening, sending a shiver down your spine. âLet me know when Iâve got your full attention.â
You often flirted and teased each other like this, the charged banter lingering between you but never quite crossing the line. Well, except for that one time on Paulâs birthday.
It was reckless, thrilling, and so deliciously wrong. Youâd pulled him into a closet while the party bustled just outside, sinking to your knees and swallowing him whole without hesitation. He didnât resist. How could he? The way you looked up at him, mischief glinting in your eyes, made it impossible to deny you.
Your lips stretched around his thick cock, taking him in with an eagerness that left him undone. His breath hitched as your mouth worked him over, your tongue and lips moving in perfect rhythm. The soft, wet sounds mingled with the muffled chatter from the next room, the risk of discovery only adding to the heat between you.
Cillian could hardly believe how perfect it feltâthe way your mouth enveloped him, as if made just for him. And those eyes, gazing up at him through thick lashes, sent a shudder through his body. When he came, it was with a groan he barely managed to stifle, his hands tangled in your hair as you swallowed him down without missing a beat.
Then, as if nothing had happened, you slipped back into the party with a sly smile, leaving him breathless, dazed, and entirely captivated.
It had felt so natural, so right. Later that night, after the guests had left and the house had grown quiet, he came upstairs. Standing at your bedroom door, he kissed you goodnightâa slow, lingering kiss that left no room for confusion. With a husky murmur, he promised you more, whispering that heâd make it up to you with a proper night, just the two of you.
And now, here you were, in the car of a man twice your age, hurtling toward a situation that was anything but appropriate.
You turned your head to him, biting your lip as a sly smile spread across your face. âYou already have it,â you said softly, your voice dripping with mischief.
âI meanâŚâ Your voice was soft and playful. âIâve waited long enough for this night. How could I not?â you murmured, a spark of mischief dancing in your eyes.
A small smile lingered on his lips as he took in your words, his hand giving a light squeeze on your thigh, and his piercing blue gaze holding yours with undeniable intensity. âLong enough, hmm?â
Your hand moved to rest on his leg, fingers grazing the muscle beneath, while you leaned in close to place kisses on his neck. âYeah,â you whispered into his ear, your voice barely more than a breath, laced with anticipation.
Cillian tilted his head slightly, granting you better access, his focus split between the road and the feel of your lips trailing along the sensitive skin near his ear. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the warmth radiating from him as you nibbled lightly at the delicate spot behind his ear. He let out a low hum of approval, his Irish lilt thick and husky as he warned, âCareful now. Donât tempt me while Iâm driving.â
âTempt you?â you replied innocently, though your actions betrayed you as your hand drifted lower, pressing lightly against the growing bulge in his jeans. âIâd never.â
With a practiced ease, you unbuckled his belt, your hands deftly pushing down his waistband and briefs. His cock sprang free, and you couldnât help but marvel at the sight of him, your mouth already watering. Wrapping your fingers around his length, you began to stroke him slowly, savoring the way he twitched in your grasp.
Cillianâs knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as he gritted his teeth, his breaths coming harder. You met his heated gaze before leaning down, spitting lightly on his reddened tip to make your movements smootherâa bold act that earned you a deep groan from him.
The salty taste of his precum touched your tongue as you teased him, rubbing your lips over his sensitive head before dipping lower. Hollowing your cheeks, you took him into your mouth inch by inch, swallowing him whole.
âFuck,â he groaned, his hand tangling in your hair as his hips bucked upward involuntarily.
You loved the power you had over him, the way his restraint faltered under your touch. Bobbing your head, you pressed your tongue against the underside of his shaft, occasionally letting your teeth graze him just enough to make his breath hitch.
âYeah, baby. Just like that,â he rasped, his voice rough and low, sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. You felt yourself grow wetter at the sound of him, his words igniting a fire within you.
Suddenly, the car slowed and came to a stop. You barely noticed until he parked at a secluded viewpoint, where the city lights shimmered across the sea in the distance. His voice was thick with amusement and desire as he leaned back, his eyes dark with lust. âYou dirty girl. Couldnât wait, could you?â
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen and glistening. âMmm-mmm,â you whined softly, shaking your head with a needy expression.
Cillianâs hand slid down to caress your ass, his touch light and deliberate as his fingers traced the curve of your body. He pressed gently against your core, where your warmth had already soaked through the thin fabric of your jeans.
âCome âere,â he demanded, his voice low and commanding.
You gave his length one last kiss before pulling back to slip out of your jeans, hurried and eager, desperate to seize this moment. Youâd waited so long for this, and deep down, you didnât know if it would ever happen again. You were determined to savor every second.
Cillian reached over, reclining the seat slightly as you climbed over to straddle him. Your lace thong was the only barrier left between you, the thin fabric doing little to conceal how much you wanted him.
You didnât waste a second, pulling him into a hungry kiss, your hands gripping the sides of his face to hold him close. Teeth clashed as your lips molded together, your shared urgency overriding any finesse. His big hands gripped your hips, roaming down to feel the smooth skin of your bare ass. With a low groan, he guided your body to grind against him, the friction pulling a gasp from your lips.
You broke the kiss briefly, tugging at the hem of his black T-shirt, your fingers slipping under the fabric to feel the heat of his skin. Cillian lifted his arms without hesitation, letting you pull it over his head and toss it aside, revealing the defined lines of his chest and the taut muscles of his shoulders. You bit your lip, eyes raking over him before pressing your palms flat against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating beneath your touch.
His mouth muffled your moans as his fingers slipped your underwear aside, brushing over your slick folds. He found your clit with ease, rubbing slow circles before sliding a finger inside you. Your head tipped back, a soft cry escaping as he added another, curling them upward to find the spot that made you see stars.
Cillian pressed kisses along your neck and chest, his stubble grazing your skin as you rocked against his hand. Each deliberate stroke and teasing curl of his fingers built a fire in your core, the knot in your stomach tightening with every passing second. His thumb circled your clit, his rhythm steady and maddening, and the way his fingers movedâdeliberate and skilledâhad you teetering on the edge.
You were so close, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. But just as the tension was about to snap, he withdrew his hand. A frustrated whimper left your lips as he used his slick-coated fingers to tease you further, running them over your folds and circling your clit again, his dark eyes locking onto yours.
âDo you have a condom?â he murmured, his voice hoarse.
âNo⌠itâs fine,â you breathed, too lost in the moment to care about the consequences. The only thought in your mind was how badly you needed him. Youâd deal with everything else later.
Cillianâs lips quirked into a faint smile as he eased his fingers inside you one last time, stroking slowly before pulling them away. He wrapped his hand around his length, pumping himself a few times before positioning his tip at your entrance.
The initial stretch was intense, a sharp burn that quickly melted into pleasure. You hissed softly, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. He paused halfway, his hands firm on your hips, guiding you down onto him as you adjusted to his size.
âRelax, love,â he murmured, his free hand reaching up to brush your hair back. Then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, he brought his slick fingers to your lips.
You parted them willingly, sucking on his fingers, tasting yourself as he muffled your soft whines. His other hand pressed down on your hips again, guiding you to take him fully, and the sensation of being filled so completely left you trembling.
You gasped sharply as he slid deeper, the stretch pulling a startled whimper from your throat. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving faint red crescents against his skin as you struggled to take him all in. The pressure was overwhelming, teetering between pain and pleasure, and your body trembled with the effort.
Cillianâs hands gripped your hips firmly, his thumbs brushing soothing circles against your skin. âYouâre so bloody tight,â he murmured, his voice hoarse and strained, his eyes burning as they stayed locked on yours.
A shaky laugh escaped you despite the intensity. âYou⌠youâre not exactly small,â you managed to joke, biting your lip to suppress another gasp.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, but the heat in his gaze remained unwavering. âIs that right?â His voice was low and teasing, though his breath hitched as you adjusted around him. âWeâll make it fit, love.â
You exhaled shakily and forced yourself to relax, easing down until he was fully sheathed inside you. The fullness was dizzying, almost too much, but the way his hands guided you made it easier, his steady presence grounding you.
âGood girl,â he rasped, his grip tightening as he fought to keep still, his cock twitching inside you. âTakinâ me so well.â
The praise sent a shiver through you, and you rolled your hips experimentally, testing the friction. A gasp escaped as sparks of pleasure replaced the discomfort, and you couldnât help the small moan that followed.
âFuck,â he groaned, his head tipping back as his fingers dug into your hips. âYou feel so good.â
Encouraged by his reaction, you began to move more confidently, setting a slow rhythm that had both of you moaning softly. The way his cock stretched you was perfect, hitting spots inside you that made your head spin.
âYouâre incredible,â he muttered, his voice thick with desire as his hands roamed over your back and ass, pulling you closer. âCanât believe how good you feel.â
His words only spurred you on, and you leaned forward, bracing your hands on the car seat as you began to pick up the pace. The friction built steadily, a delicious pressure that made you moan louder with every movement.
Cillianâs hands slid down to your ass, gripping firmly as you moved up and down his shaft. âThatâs it,â he encouraged, his voice trembling slightly. âRide me, baby. Just like that.â
Your nails raked lightly across his chest, leaving faint marks as you threw your head back, your hair cascading wildly around your face. âGod,â you whimpered, your thighs burning as you moved faster, grinding against him with reckless abandon.
The sound of his moans only fueled your desire. Low, guttural noises spilled from his lips, mixing with soft whimpers as he tilted his head back, his Adamâs apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. âYouâre killinâ me,â he murmured, his voice cracking. âYouâre so perfect.â
Leaning down, you pressed your lips to his in a messy, desperate kiss. Your teeth clashed briefly before his tongue slid against yours, deepening the kiss as his hips bucked upward, driving deeper into you.
âCillian,â you gasped against his mouth, your voice trembling with need. âDonât stop.â
âNever,â he promised, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed you fiercely, his hands guiding your movements with increasing urgency.
The pace grew frantic, both of you chasing the peak as the car windows fogged, filled with the sound of your moans and the slick, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Your thighs burned, your body trembling from the effort, but you couldnât stopâthe pleasure was too intense, too consuming.
Your hips moved up and down at a delicious rhythm. Cillianâs gaze fixed on you, awe filling his eyes as he watched the expression of pure pleasure on your face. He looked down to where you were both connected. Fuck. If he could capture this moment, it felt and looked so perfect, like it was meant only for him.
Cillianâs groans grew louder, his voice rough and raw as he murmured your name like a prayer. âFuck,â he hissed, his hands sliding up to cup your face, pulling you into another kiss as his hips thrust upward to meet yours. âYouâre so bloody perfect, love.â
The knot in your stomach tightened, the pressure building to an almost unbearable intensity. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his moans and gasps growing more desperate as he edged closer to his release.
âCillian,â you cried out, your voice breaking as your movements grew erratic, the pleasure overwhelming. âIâmâoh, God!â
âI know, baby,â he groaned, his voice shaking. âCome for me. Let me feel you.â
His words sent you spiraling, the coil snapping as your orgasm crashed over you with devastating force. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure wracked your frame.
Cillian followed moments later, a deep, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he buried himself deep inside you. His body trembled as his release poured into you, holding you tightly as his hands roamed over your back, whispering soothing words against your skin.
You collapsed against him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the aftershocks pulsed through you. His arms wrapped around you protectively, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder.
You stayed in silence for a few moments, both of you catching your breath as the haze of pleasure slowly lifted. Your chest rose and fell against his, your heartbeat echoing in the quiet intimacy of the car. Cillianâs hands slid up to your face, his touch gentle as he tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear. His eyes softened as they met yours, his thumb brushing lightly against your flushed cheek.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmured, his voice low and tender.
You smiled shyly, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. The tenderness of the moment contrasted sharply with the intensity of what had just happened, and it made your heart swell. His lips moved against yours slowly, savoring the connection, until you pulled back, resting your forehead against his.
Reluctantly, you lifted yourself off him, biting your lip as you felt the residual ache from his size. A string of wetness stretched between your bodies, a vivid reminder of your shared passion. You couldnât resist trailing your fingers down to feel yourself, gasping softly as you realized how full you were. His release, warm and sticky, was still dripping out of you, mingling with your own arousal. The sensation sent a shiver through your body.
As you lifted your fingers, you noticed the faint tint of blood mixed in. Your breath hitched, the realization sinking in. âIs thatââ you paused, staring at the evidence on your fingertips, then glanced at him, your lips curving into a sheepish, almost awed smile. âBlood?â
Cillianâs eyes flickered with concern, his brows furrowing. âAre you all right, love? Did I hurt you?â
You shook your head quickly, your cheeks heating. âNo, itâs⌠itâs fine. Itâs fromâwell, you know.â Your voice trailed off, a mixture of embarrassment and pride. âIt just⌠felt so good.â
Relief washed over his features, though his gaze remained steady on yours. âYou shouldâve told me,â he said softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your thigh. âI wouldâve been more careful.â
âI didnât want you to be,â you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Then, emboldened by the intimacy, you brought your fingers to your mouth, licking them clean with a teasing glint in your eyes.Â
âTastes like us.â
A guttural groan escaped him as he ran a hand through his damp hair. âYouâre going to be the death of me, you know that?â
You laughed softly, leaning back against the seat as you took a deep breath, letting the moment settle around you. Outside, the city lights twinkled, reflecting off the sea in the distance. The world seemed far away, like it belonged to someone else, as you basked in the aftermath of your time together.
Cillian reached for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. âWe should get you cleaned up,â he said, his voice still rough but filled with care. âAnd maybe find somewhere more comfortable than this car.â
You smirked, tilting your head at him playfully. âComfortable? Donât tell me youâre tired already, old man.â
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. âCareful, love. Iâve got plenty left in me, and now youâve started something weâre not finished with yet.â
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#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian fic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian fanfic#cillian smut#smut#diet pepsi
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đ¤ WAITING ON A MIRACLE ⎠ATSUMU MIYA.
after losing his entire career and future, atsumu goes to the one person outside of his brother in hopes to alleviate the pain. and as always, you answer his calls with a plate of food and a needed kiss.
( fic demographics. ) haikyuu, miya atsumu, collaboration submission, sfw content | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 2367 words.
â pro-volleyball player!atsumu miya, afab!reader (nonspecified pronouns), friends to lovers!au, love confessions, a few tears being shed by atsumu.
( antizenin's cookbook collaboration ââ a recipe for oxtail. ) my submission to my very own collaboration, lmao. happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate !
âIf I wanted to eat, I would've gone to Osamu's,â Atsumu grumbles, sitting on your couch with a blanket draped over his body. Nonetheless, he takes the plate from your hand, the savory smell coming from the steaming hot plate that you had to him with a kitchen towel. A coursing ache running from the back of his ankle all the way up to his thigh when he reaches, having to shuffle to get a good hold. He wincesâ a sharp hiss leaving between his teeth, the cast on his foot has been placed doing nothing to alleviate the pain he's experiencing.
Now that he's on leave, he has nothing better to do with himself. It's not permanent, but it feels like it. It could damn well be if his Achilles tendon doesn't heal the way it needs to. And when it does, will he have time and the attention of the audience to make an impact like he once was?
You peer down at Atsumu, who still doesn't have a strong grip on the plate. You shove it more into him, letting the ceramic press into his chest as he finally uses both hands. You let it go, turning your back to him. âJust take it. I'm not in the mood with arguing with you today, Atsumu.â
âWhat even is this?â He scrutinizes the plate. It smells good, yes, but it's unfamiliar to his palette. âYou've never made me this before.â
You've made your way back to the kitchen by now, fixing yourself a plate of oxtail, rice and peas, with a side of coleslaw. When Atsumu had called you, evidently in a desperate time of need, you were cooking yourself dinner. Typically, you made enough for yourself to last for two to three days, but now looking in the pot, the two bumps of meat will barely count for a heart serving for tomorrow. Nonetheless, you don't feel any resentment or anger.
âTry it,â you don't elaborate any further, voicing from the kitchen. If you know Atsumu as well as you think you do, you know it'll fit well with his taste buds. âI think you'll like it.â
He's skeptical, watching you make a beeline back to the living room area and taking a seat close to him. He watches you eat. You're using your hands to pick up the bone, sucking the meat off before spooning a good ball of rice into your mouth. You seem to enjoy it. Of course, you do. Your cooking is amazing, Atsumu thinks to himself, finally picking up his fork and shoving a ton of food into his mouth.
âFuck,â he curses the moment they hit his taste buds, nearly choking on his food. He's made sure to have a bit of everything. His eyes go wide as he chews further. âThisâs so good.â
âI know right,â you agree in delight. Your cheeks rise in happiness as you've shared a bit of your own culture with him. Ever since moving to Japan, youâve indulged in their cuisines, trying to get acclimated in a different environment and their different tastes. As time had passed, you had grown so accustomed that you find yourself relying on what youâve learned rather than where you come from.
When November hit, a rush of emotions washed over you as you remembered back home. The calendar marks down November 28th, 2024, and while it's not Thanksgiving in America yet, it is for you. You make a mental note to call your mom when you can. You miss herâ you miss your family. âOne of my favorite dishes. My mom makes it the best, though.â
âNo, this is so fuckinâ good,â Atsumu praises your cooking, telling you countless times before that you cook better than his brother. You always rolled your eyes at his flattery, never taking him seriously when he was. âWhy haven't ya made this for me before?â
You shrugged, not really having an explanation for it. âDidn't know if you'd like it or not.â
A long silence traverses the living room, the only sounds that can be heard is the clinking of the fork against the plate and the television playing. It's a comfortable silence that has Atsumuâs mind falling into a deep abyss. He was early in his career of going pro in volleyball. He had been working to become the best, training everyday and straining his body in hopes to become unstoppable. He wanted to become a force no one dared to stop, but in the midst of it all and the voices telling him to stop overworking himself, his body crashed before he reached any heights.
The news had already come out about it, spectacles and the internet were all talking about it. They deemed him as a cocky amateur just like the others who threw away their career doing the same thing or something far more stupid. They were betting that by the time he was back to his feet, the world would forget about him and he was starting to believe that it was going to be true.
He didn't realize that he was crying, and when he did. It became worse. He couldn't hide his pathetic sobs, trying to suck them in, but your eyes were on him in a second. âA-AtsumuâŚâ
Your plate was empty, leaving the bones bare and a few specks of rice on your plate. He still had a handful of food left. You took his plate away from him, setting it down on the coffee table before inching closer to him. Your close proximity was a comfort, the hand you placed on his backâ a muscular one that flexed as he shoved his face in his handsâ was the catalyst to him further breaking down.
âI fucked everything up,â he sobbed, his body starting to tremble. âI ruined everything for myself.â
âYou couldn't have known,â your voice is low and soft, trying to comfort the man as you rub circles down his back. Your next arm goes to pull him for a hug. He doesn't reciprocate, keeping his head in his hands as you lean your head against his shoulder. You've never seen him like this, so distraughtâ not since Osamu said he wouldn't be joining him. âNo one could've⌠Don't beat yourself upââ
âBut that's exactly what I did!â He exclaims, sitting himself and pushing you off him as a result. You straighten your posture as you let him go on. He needs this. He needs to vent it all out. âAfter being told not to. After pushing myself so hard that I⌠that I have to go on rest. God knows when it'll heal and if it does, I'll be long forgotten. Everythingâ all my plans ruined and down the drain. I'll be nothing.â
âYou won't be nothing,â you scoff at him chastising himself, crossing your arms. âYou'll be somethingâ someone.â
âThat's the problem,â he thinks back to the reporters. How they'll say that just like the rest of the amateurs that got ahead of themselves. By the time he's ready to go back on the court, the crowd will forget him and he'll be lost in the wind. Heâll just be a speck of dust, a man that used to have the potential to be more. âI'll just be someone. Someone somebody knew, someone worth forgetting, resulting back into nothing. I'll be a nobody.â
âYou're talking nonsense!â You snort. âIs it so important to you that you have to make it? Does everyone have to know your name? Is it so bad to have a silent life?â
âI want to have an impact on the world,â he says, finally calming down. His head turns to you, his brown eyes staring into yours. They're bloodshot from the tears, but neither of you could care at this moment. âI can't do that if no one can hear my voice. The loudest are the most prominent.â
âThat's not true,â you shake your head. âThe people that make this world turn are truly the ones you've never seen. Their silence is truly the loudest.â
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. âYeah, whateverââ
âAre you saying that I'm a nobody because I choose to live a simple life?â You raise your voice, starting to get annoyed with Atsumu's stubbornness. You understand that he just pushed to the sidelines, that after putting so much work, he's back at square one. But he has to understand that it's not only his way. Heâs unknowingly proving his fears right by staying so close-minded. âAre you saying your brother decided to waste his life by not pursuing volleyball?â
âNo! You know that's not what I meant!â He tried to clarify, not liking the heat you threw him under. âI'm just saying that living a quiet life is boring. It's not for me. I had a once in a lifetime opportunity and I immediately blew it the moment it got into my hands.â
âBut you don't have to live a quiet life.â Your eyes softening as your voice is barely above a whisper. You take his hands, shaking them to snap some sense into him. You've always tried taking an optimistic approach to things, having been through enough turmoil and shit to where you are today. You fear that without the obstacles in life, youâd never had made it to Japan.
Atsumu has so much potential. He always haveâ a driven man that youâve come to adore despite how he can be an asshole at times because of it. Once he's set his mind on something, he's going to take it. However, there's never one path to everything. There's multiple approaches, and hopefully, you can inspire him to take another one. âYou can heal and get better, work towards getting back on your feet and if your physical therapist gives you the okay, you can go back playing volleyball. People will see you as an inspiration for overcoming adversities, but crying on your ass will get you nowhere.â
You met Atsumu in high school, where you were an exchange student after being given the opportunity to study abroad. Your host sister has invited youâ or more like forced youâ to a volleyball game. You've never been one to be invested in sports, but everyone seemed to be raving about this particular game, so you tried your best to pay attention.
It was Inarizaki versus Karasuno, and the game was going well, until the blonde setter from your school called for complete silence from everyone on the court and up in the stadiums. You were in disbelief, scoffing at how much of an asshole, he was being. Who did he think he was for telling everyone to be silent like he owned the place? But your host sister begged you not to make a sound and she was the only reason you didn't antagonize Atsumu at the time, because boy, did you want to make a sound. Why was everyone bowing down to a jackass?
You were shown why the moment Inarizaki made a point not too long after, but despite the small impression it made, you still thought of him an ass.
Not too long after did you realize that you shared a couple of classes together. You never realized that in Japanese Literature, he sat right in front of you. You must've been so oblivious and in your own world to not realize this sooner.
What finally brought the two of you together was a presentation that the teacher paired the two of you up for that you both became friends. A friendship that started with constant bickering like an old married couple turned into you possessing something that Atsumu deemed worthyâ your cooking. It's something that you and Osamu bonded well over, even him himself believing that you're the better cook. And it's something that Atsumu's come to adore about you, you cooked like your plates could heal the world. And in some way, you did.
Shortly after graduating high school, Atsumu and Osamu both wanted to keep in contact with you, and Atsumu sought you out for more than your culinary talents. And somewhere along the way, you've managed to develop feelings for him. Something you deemed as unfortunate.
âAnd even if you can't go back on the court, find a career that's just as loud,â you speak with passion. âFind a way to impact other people's lives. There are different paths out there for everybody and while this might seem like a curse now, in the long run, I know the world will come back to bless you.
âI didn't fall in love with a brat who cried the moment things fell awry. I fell for the boy who I saw kept pushing despite it all. Now stop being a little bitch.â
You don't realize what you've said, chest rising and falling asleep you haven't taken a breath in between your small rant. To see the man you love succumbing to an obstacle, a change of course, it invoked a heavy fire within you. When you look back into Atsumu's eyes, you think he's staring at you widely because he finally took something important from all that verbal mess. And he did, just not what you expected.
âYouâ you love me?â
âWhat?â You face falls, eyes widening as you're trying to back track and find out how he took that from what you were saying. Not remembering your small confession through the midst of it all. âWhat are you talking about?â
âYou just said you loved me!â He points at you, voice raising.
âNoâ no, I didn't! Iââ You shake your head immediately, so hard it starts hurting right after.
âI love ya, too!â He blurts, the confession falling right off his lips. It feels like a weight being lifted off of his chest. It just seemed right, something that he, too, was holding dear to his chest.
âAtsumu, Iââ You croak, voice cracking at the reciprocated confession. Everything falls silent until Atsumu's pulling you closer to him. Both of you now chest to chest.
He pulls you in for a kiss, eyes becoming starry once he pulls away. âI love you, too.â
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I Hate you. - Theodore Nott X Reader
Requested. Thank you lovely anon!
A/N: Reader is a gryffindor and a muggle born.
Theodore Nott hated you. You were a Gryffindor, so there was already a natural rivalry at play. He would talk over you, and sit in front of you in class so you couldn't see what was going on. He was sort of a bully, and although you did not hate him the same way. You in fact, loved him. Since the first time you saw him you had been infatuated, enamored with his mysterious and cold demeanor.
You turned to your attention towards professor snape, who had asked you a question while you were absent-mindedly elsewhere. With your head in the clouds, something about an ingridient. you mustered up the courage to try and think of an anwser, but fell short. Your face became white, others thought you might throw up or pass out right then and there.
What was most embarassing and frustrating was that Theodore Nott was laughing at you, and his laughter caused the whole class to giggle. The girls swooned at he and his friends, something about a bad boy slytherin was just so attractive.
"I-I-I'm so sorry professor," You finally stuttered out.
"What was the question?" There was an eye roll from Theodore at your clueless self. "Miss L/N," Snape quipped back. "If you are not going to pay attention I suggest you leave this class and come back when you are prepared." He snapped suddenly, now you just want to cry.
"And Mr. Nott," he stood over Theodore's desk. "Yes professor?" he said with his doe eyes, Snape always favored slytherin students, and he always rewarded them the most house points. "Might you be able to asnwer the question since you began this silly banter?" He asked with his arms folded. "Yes sir," Theo said quickly. "Mugwort is used as a physic boost, aiding in dreams and it is said to aid Legilimens by enhancing their nature powers if ingested as an infused tincture." He answered very matter-of-fact in his tone.
"Very well," Snape said. "Well done. 25 Points to Slytherin House." He said.
You shuttered in the back of the class, wanting to leave but being too proud to dip out the back of the classroom. It was a potions lecture, which could go for hours. You were embarassed and exhausted. Even if you did manage to sneak away, It wasn't safe. Students had been getting cursed outside school grounds, and even during school hours. It was wisest to wait.
. . .
Upon the end of class, you had gathered your things and tried to apologize to professor snape, but you were brushed off and dismissed as being distracted during class. It was not fair in the slightest.
On your way out of class, Theodore had bumped into your shoulder hard, without an apology. "Nott!" You exclaimed, smacking him with your text book. "Oh merlin, it's you." He said sarcastically enthused. "You didn't have to be so rude." you stated.
He rolled his eyes, his demeanor trying to remain cold and unrelenting. "It's not rude if I know the answer." he snapped. "You foolish little rat," you spat out. It just came out, you didn't want to start a fight or an argument with the boy, but you couldn't help it. You had loved him endlessly and had been nothing but kind to him, but you were at a breaking point.
"Who are you calling a rat?" He stepped up. you doubted he would be aggressive or actually violent, his friends had already scurried down the halls without him. he stood tall over you. "You, you don't always have to be such a twat!" you snap at him, your anger is apparent, your face is blushed.
"Twat?" he asked. "Really?"
you folded your arms, ready to stand your ground if need be. although the situation didn't escalate further quite as you had imagined. At Theodore's words, your face fell and tears began to run down your cheeks. they were hot.
"Don't call me a twat you blood-filthy bitch." he spat.
You had already gathered your things, rushing off and running towards the nearest exit, trying to find somewhere private. The weasley twins saw you rush past, and you could tell they felt bad.. they gave you a sympathetic look but didn't pursue you further. None of your friends were around at that time of day.
You found yourself on the castle outskirts, alone, tired, crying and vulnerable. That is when you saw the hooded figure, a black cloak, a birdlike mask. and then darkness.
. . . .
You woke up in the hospital wing, hours or maybe even days later. it was quiet, the nurses were in the corner joking with one another, your head hurt. your vision was fuzzy and you felt sick, as if there was a heat in your chest.
Madam Pomfrey rushed to your side, taking your temperature and feeling your cool, but warm feeling skin. "Oh dear," she exclaimed. "You've been cursed." she says, cursed? Your head turns to her in confusion. "We don't know how or who, but you have been. Take this," she says offering you a small purple vial of a foul smelling liquid. "healing potion, dear. It'll help lessen the curse affects." she explains.
You nod slowly, taking the vial like a shot. It tasted like burnt peppercorns and sour grapes, mixed with sand. it was awful.
"And someone left this for you," She said, gesturing to the ornate vase of colorful poppies by your bed side. "Now rest up, you will need plenty of it!" she ordered. you nodded again.
You reached over to the vase to see a little note sticking out of it. It was silver lettering that read TN. Theodore Nott. you ripped it open, angry. It was probably another insult, exploding flowers or some bastard and cruel prank. a final blow. It read the following, your eyes had to re-read to see what the cursive silver ink had written.
I'm sorry for what I said. Can we meet for a butterbeer sometime?
You rolled your eyes and ripped up the paper, tossing it onto the ground.
#reader insert#my writing#x reader#hp x reader#hp#slytherin x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott#harry potter
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