#Bloodsport x Reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysecretattic0 · 4 months ago

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nova-caine ♒︎

Pairing: Bloodsport X afab!Reader

WARNING: SMUT/EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD! Mentions of murder, death, abuse, alcohol, weapons, violence, etc.

Prompt: That noise… keep making it. @delusionisaplace

Suicide Sqaud: Bloodsport & Nova

Heavy breathing. Filled with fear. Tears cascading rapidly down my cheeks. Wounds and bruises scattered across my skin like horrible confetti. Whispers can be heard from every direction. THEY WON’T SHUT UP! I can’t go back. I CAN’T! Don't look back. Don’t stop running. I can’t stop now. I’m not far enough. I must hide. Where? WHERE?! No time to think about that. I CAN’T STOP! SHE’S COMING! But she’s dead. SHE’S COMING FOR ME! Go. FASTER! WHERE DO I GO?! Suddenly all the whispers were silent. All that could be heard was the snapping of the twigs below my bare feet. Upon realizing the whispers had gone silent, I came to a halt. The silence was deafening. It hurt; it made me more fearful. Frantically looking in every direction. No. No! NO! I fell to my knees. Skin crawling. NO! SHE’S STILL HERE! I can feel her. I quickly looked up and —

I gasped awake. Frantically searching. Searching for her. The woods that surrounded me. Instead I was kneeling on the cold floor of my cell. I hectically scoot back against the cold painted brick wall. Feeling an anxiety attack coming along. I suddenly began to break down. Crying uncontrollably.

It took me a while to calm down. However, when I did, the sun had just begun to rise and a loud buzz sounded, indicating our cell doors had been opened; and it was now morning. But I don’t move from my spot. I didn’t realize how long I’d been sitting there, staring into space, until my name had been called.

“Nova. Can you come with me?” Ms. Waller asked in a semi soft tone, though it surely wasn’t a question, with a knock on my open cell door. With a nod of my head, knowing I didn’t have a choice, I stood and joined the group she had in tow. Seems to me as I was the last to join them. There was a gigantic shark human hybrid? A groggy Cleo and three other unknown men. One of which I caught staring at me. Though when eye contact was established he looked away. He seemed to have a permanent scowl or mean mug, if you will, upon his face. I tried not to pay any of them any mind. I just wanted to get this mission over with. We all went to get prepared for Ms. Waller’s explanation of our “objective” for this “mission”.

~~~

After getting mini bomb explosives injected into our necks, we were brought to a dimly lit room that resembled a classroom. May as well be called one, reason being, Ms. Waller stands at the front giving her ‘lecture’ presentation. Giving us the run around on why we’re doing this mission, what it’s about and who’s involved. We sat listening, scattered in different rows of seats.

“Your mission is to infiltrate Jotunheim and destroy every trace of project starfish.” Ms. Waller ended her lecture. “How are we supposed to get in?” Said the British guy with the staring problem, whose name I’ve come to realize is, Bloodsport? Ms. Waller then spoke, “Gaius Grieves, the Thinker, is a geneticist in charge of Project Starfish.” she briefly paused, “After hours, he hangs out at a gentlemen’s club known as, La Gatita Amable. Get Grieves to help you by whatever means necessary, and he can get you into Jotunheim.” She finished. The lights came back on. “Any questions?” She asked us all. Cleo asked about a projector no longer in use. Irrelevant. Peacemaker? Asked about a connection between starfish and buttholes? Stupid. Nanaue asked about his hand. Adorable. “We’re all gonna die.” Bloodsport stated as a matter of fact, annoyance ridden in his tone. “I hope so.” Polka-Dot Man weirdly stated. I turned to look questionably at their interaction.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Bloodsport with a roll of his eyes. When he caught my eye, I turned back around in my seat, with a sigh.

~~~

We swam to the shore of this island. The feeling of the cool water against me was very relaxing. Though the sensation was short lived; as we approached the shore. As we were walking there was a rumbling explosion on the other side of the island. The unexpected loud noise made me jump with a gasp. The group turned their attention to the explosion and briefly sent glances my way at my fear. Bloodsport quickly pulled out his weapon, “Control, we have a disturbance south of here.” He said into the comm as he pointed his weapon. “It’s just a diversion, Bloodsport.” Waller replied.

Bloodsport led us through the jungle, I tuned out their conversation as I unknowingly fell slightly behind. I began to hear those whispers I despised. Feel the chills that brought me nothing but horrible thoughts and fear. That brought me back there. When I looked up, the group was no longer in front of me. I looked in every direction. But suddenly, I was; back in the woods. Running from her. My own mother. A powerful, wicked, witch that never ceases to haunt me. Chasing me.

I was suddenly tackled to the ground. I only saw her. I fight with all my might to get her off. Refraining from using my powers. The last time I did that I—

“Calm down! It’s me!” I heard a British accent. I blinked a couple of times to find that it was Bloodsport on top of me, restraining me from causing him anymore harm. Him holding me down was triggering my anxiety and claustrophobia. My breathing picked up as I began to panic; it made me think of her. “Let me go!” I yelled breathlessly. I broke down as he immediately let go of me. I scooted out from under him, bringing my knees to my chest and slowly looked up to find his eyes staring back at me with a confused and concerned expression. I stared at him with tear filled eyes. “Breathe. I’m not gonna hurt you, love.” He started, calmly, with his hands up in surrender. “I just wanna help you.” He stated. “We set up camp. I noticed you got left behind. I just came to find you, and I saw you running.” He explained. I put my head down to hide from him.

“Why?” My head shot back up upon hearing his voice. He took notice of my confusion and continued, “Why were you running, love?” He asked. “Just another vision.” I replied plainly. “A vision?” He questioned. “Something like that. A flashback. An episode whatever you’d like to call it.” I nodded as I wiped the tears from my face. “What, like a psychic?” He asked, genuinely confused, but with a hint of sarcasm. I scowled at him, “No.” I rolled my eyes and stood up, as did he. I could feel him eyeing me intently for what seemed like forever. “Can we go, please?” I crossed my arms over my chest, avoiding eye contact with him. “Sure.” He said nonchalantly with a shrug. He began to lead us back to where we’ll be camping for the night. “What do you do?” he asked. “What?” I responded in a tone of confusion. “What’s your superpower? Like your ability.” He continued.

I hesitated but I decided to tell him. “I’m a witch.” I stated, annoyed. “Hm.” He hummed. “What?” I asked, taken aback and slightly offended. “Nothing.” He shook his head. “No. What’s that supposed to mean?” I stopped with my arms folded atop my chest. He turned, “Never seen a real witch before. Thought those only existed in the stories.” He said mockingly. “I’ll prove it.” I said confidently. I unfolded my arms and took a deep breath. I let the words of magic fall from my lips in a mumble. As I stared into his eyes, he started to get fidgety.

“You feel that?” I asked in a condescending tone. I slowly took small steps toward him. “That heat.” I continued. When I got closer he shivered. “And what about that? That tingle?” I taunted. Inches away from him; as I got closer he backed away. His breath hitched when his back hit a tree. “And that?” I chuckled. “That arousal.” I whispered in a low sultry tone; our faces mere inches away from each other. I brought my hand up between us and slowly balled it into a fist. He let out a low shaky groan; almost whimper, briefly making my knees weak. “That noise… keep making it.” He watched as I untightened my fist and placed my palm in the center of his chest; and with the other, I hovered over his arousal. “May I?” I asked for his consent; staring into his soul through his eyes, making sure he couldn’t look away.

He hesitated; but he eventually nodded in agreement. I raised a brow at him, “Yes.” He gritted. I softly laid my other hand on his erection. I closed my eyes briefly, letting go of my hold on our eye contact. When I opened them his head was resting against the tree, eyes closed, breathing shakily. “Can you feel that Robert?” He released a strained groan in response. I pulled back with a low chuckle. His eyes shot open to glare down at me. “What the hell was that for? Why’d you stop?” He lowly shouted in that heavy British accent, so as not to alert anyone. “Because, we’re not here for that. Plus, we don’t want them to come looking for us do we?” I asked as I continued on our previous path.

~~~

After trying to kill Nanaue for almost eating Cleo, traveling to find Flag; who we found out was also on the island along with others, killing a lot of the Freedom Fighters, hearing Krill’s story on his interdimensional virus; that was caused by his evil scientist mother, and killing guards to get Milton to drive us through town to La Gatita Amable; We all sit in the van in normal clothing to “blend in”.

Cleo asked Robert why he was so afraid of rat’s leading to the story of her father. I sat in the seat behind Cleo while she told the story of her father’s death due to his “burden’s”. Which led to Robert telling us about his father locking him in a crate full of starving rats for 24 hours as a punishment when he was just a young boy. Followed by a heartfelt, adorable moment between Cleo and Robert.

We’re now seated in the club that Waller mentioned. La Gatita Amable. “So when’s this “Thinker” guy supposed to be here?” Rick questioned. “Supposed to be in the next few hours.” Cleo answered. “Looks like we gotta find something to do to pass the time. Uh, miss?” said Peacemaker. He called over a waitress and ordered drinks for the table. “I’m okay. I don’t drink.” I stated. “Why?” he asked. I didn’t get a chance to respond; not that I wanted to. “Hey, Pissmaker. We’re on a mission.” Robert insulted. “Easy, Inspector Gadget. Little drink never hurt nobody.” He joked. “Except for the thousands of people killed in drunk driving accidents every year.” Krill abruptly stated. “Come on, DuBois. This could be our last drink.” Ignoring Krill, Rick placed his arm on Robert's shoulder. The waitress came with drinks. “Just one.” Robert said to Peacemaker, giving in.

I left the table to go sit at the bar and I got a glass of water. Robert and I kept exchanging glances at one another. He eventually got up from the table to walk over to me.

“You never told your story.” That British accent said from beside me. Robert sat down next to me and ordered another drink. I scoffed, “You don’t wanna hear my story.” I told him. “Oh but I do.” He smiled slightly as his drink was placed in front of him. I hesitated but I saw a persistent look in his eyes, he isn't the type to give up easily. I took a deep breath, “Well, my mother was a powerful, wicked and evil witch.” I said enunciating on ‘wicked’. I hesitated, “She performed powerful and most times very painful rituals on me.” I paused. “She was very narcissistic and manipulative.” “She abused me when the rituals didn’t go her way. Always told me hurtful things.” “...Killed people.” “I can’t count how many near death experiences I had at the hands of my mother.” “My mother?” I scoffed. “And she never cared, she just kept on like I was a doll for her to play with… and not her daughter. A human being.” I looked at Robert and saw him fiddling in thought.

“She got rid of anyone who ever loved me; in any kind of way. Just to control me; and keep doing rituals on me…” “Abusing me.” “...hurting…me.” I finished lowly; trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I propped my elbow on the bar and rested my hand over my mouth. Out of nowhere I got the urge to be spontaneous; so I grabbed Robert’s glass and chugged what was left in it. When I looked at Rob he was already staring at me, with an expression I couldn’t depict the meaning behind.

“What?” I questioned. “Nothing. Just– I understand where you’re coming from.” He said sympathetically. “We’re a lot alike, y’know?” “I know. The story you told about your father.” I responded. He nodded, looking down at his hands. “But I killed my mother.” I stated, staring off into space. “That’s the big difference between what happened to us both.” I said, looking toward him with so much pain behind my dark brown eyes. “I got fed up. I’m no better than she is because everything she did to me I did right back to her.” I scoffed, shaking my head as tears threatened to fall. “After, I ran into the woods.” I paused. “Thing is…a witch’s spirit never dies.” “They still hold the power of magic from the other side. She still haunts me to this day.” “At certain moments, I’m back there. Back in those woods with her evil spirit chasing me.” “I see her and kill her over and over but I can never escape her.” “What I thought was her—” I cut myself off.

“Wasn’t her, was it?” He asked for confirmation. I shook my head. “That’s what happened in the jungle that night, when I found you, you saw her?” I nodded, wiping my face of tears. “I got caught. That’s how I ended up at good ole’ Belle Reve.” I let out a breathy laugh, avoiding eye contact. However, I still felt his eyes burning a hole into the side of my head. He stared at me for what felt like forever “Excuse me.” I got off the barstool and headed toward the bathroom. I stared in the mirror at myself. I don't know who I am nor what I see. Who am I outside of her?

I bent down to put water on my face. When I stood up I dried my face with a paper towel then I began trying to fix my hair. Then, I heard the door to the bathroom open. “Occu– pied” I stopped everything I was doing when I saw Robert walking into the restroom, through the mirror. He closed the door behind him and locked said door. I threw away the paper towel in my hand and placed my hands on the sink leaning my weight into it. “What do you want, Robert.” I said lowering my head avoiding eye contact with the man. When he didn’t respond I looked up to him through the mirror. He was slowly walking toward me. “May I touch you?” He asked. I hesitated but eventually I nodded, granting him the consent he requested. When his front met my back, my breath hitched. He slowly ran his hands up my arms making me stand straight up against him. Unfamiliar with the feeling but still making no effort to escape from it. When I tried lowering my head he stopped me by placing a hand under my chin lifting it.

“I just wanna’ help you, love.” He finally responded, staring at me intently through the mirror. My face softened at the nickname “You can’t help me, Rob.” I told him. “See, I think you’re wrong. We have a lot in common, love, and I think we can help each other out.” He spoke in his low, husky tone. I swiftly turned to face him, having to look up at him, the heels I wore not doing me justice. “How?” I asked. He leaned closer, our faces mere inches apart “I wanna take some of that tension off your shoulders.” He spoke lightly, running the back of his fingers over my shoulders. My eyes flickered down to watch his mouth as his words fell from his lips. “Make you feel good.” He leaned down to softly kiss along my increasing pulse making me pleasantly sigh. “Take your mind off what brings you pain.” He moved to his previous position, staring down into my eyes, tucking my braids behind my ear, letting his fingertips run over my temple. “I think we both could use that right now love, don’t ya’ think?”

I was so caught up in gazing at his eyes and his lips. “Would you like that, love? Do you want that?” He asked. He lifted my chin to refocus my attention “I need an answer.” His dominance made me weak. Biting my lip to keep from letting a whimper escape from my mouth and letting him know how much control he has gained over my temple. Though, knowing deep inside that he knew the advantage that just fell into his hands. “Yes.” I let a whisper fall from my lips like magic. I look up at him seriously, “I’m trusting you, Robert.” I made clear. “I won’t break that trust, Nova.” He promised me softly. He slowly leaned down closer to me, stopping inches away from my aching lips, waiting for me to close the distance. Wrapping my arms around his neck, closing the distance; feeling everything around me disappear. He softly placed his hands on my waist, closing any distance between our bodies. His touch made my breath hitch and he took that opportunity to slide his tongue past my lips. The unknown feeling further weakened me. My body betrayed me; letting a moan slip past my lips and travel into his, unintentionally sending a chill down his spine. The way the kiss gradually became more and more heated made my lust flow down forming a river in the cloth that covered my passion. Running his hands up and down my body sensually caused my legs to betray me; he wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, catching me when I began to fall. Regaining my balance, with his help, he turned me back to face the mirror, pressing my back to his front once again. His mouth explored my neck, licking, sucking and biting, drawing moans from within as my breathing uncontrollably increased. Running his hands over every curve, holding me, caressing me, peeling off the dress that hugged me and letting it fall. My panties being the only clothing left clinging to my hips. Relaxing against him; feeling his hand leading a path down to my throbbing passion.

When his fingers slipped past the hem of my panties and made contact with my clit, I gasped sharply, throwing my head back against him. I reached to pull him closer, feeling him smile against me. “Have you ever been touched here, sweetheart?” He questioned, tracing his fingertips through my slit, my lust coating them. “Have you, darlin’?” He said into my ear, pinching my clit. “No.” I moaned breathlessly loud.

“How does that feel, baby?” He soothingly circled my clit. I whimpered in response, biting my lip. He placed his other hand around my throat and squeezed lightly. I slightly tensed as my moans became louder. “Relax babe. Tell me how that feels, love.” He coaxed, making shoulders return to their resting position. “So good, baby.” I whimpered, gripping at him. I realized he was still clothed; that wasn’t going to fly with me. I grabbed his wrists, removing his hands. I turned to him, removing his button up and wife beater, discarding them. I pushed him back against a wall and worked on his belt buckle. Unzipping his pants and letting them fall. Mumbling a spell, placing one hand on his chest and the other on his rock hard cock. Letting my magic radiate more intensely than the last time “Oh fuck me. Jesus Christ!” He groaned. I slipped my hand into his boxers and stroked his shaft slowly. “Fuckkk!” He dragged out through his teeth as I caressed his tip. “How does that feel, baby?” I asked, repeating him. “Ha. Very funny.” He hissed and looked up at the ceiling. “Tell me how it feels, love.” I whispered seductively in his ear. “Fuck you.” He groaned, closing his dark brown orbs. I chuckled lightly. I gasped when he abruptly picked me up, turning, and placing me onto the sink. “Not laughing now are you, love?” He wore a cocky smile upon his face.

I grabbed him and crashed our lips together. When I felt Rob’s tongue enter my mouth, butterflies erupted in my belly. I moaned as our tongues fought for dominance. He touched and caressed every part of my body. I grip him for dear life as I bask in the bliss of his affection. He reached down pulling my panties aside and guided his cock to my entrance. Our mouths parted as we gazed into each other's eyes. I nodded giving him a look of confirmation. He slowly pushed into me as we gasped simultaneously at the sensation. He buried his head in my neck and wrapped his arms around my waist as he bottomed out. He slowly pulled almost all the way out and gave long, slow strokes in and out of my dripping cunt. I moaned uncontrollably loud. He pulled back, placing his forehead on mine and flashed a smirk. “You like that don't ya’, love?” he chuckled. “Fuck you.” I slightly chuckled with a breathless whine. “As you wish, baby.” he pulled me closer to the edge of the sink. I wrapped my arms around his neck as my legs entrapped his waist.

He tightened his grip on me, making me moan from the affection. His stroke sped up. “Oh fuck!” I moaned breathlessly. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “O- Occupied!” I shouted as clearly as I could. He chuckled. I placed my palm flat on his muscle ridden back and looked him right in his mud colored eyes. His body jerked, and his stroke slowed, savoring the feeling of ecstasy. He threw his head back. When his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed I knew exactly what he was feeling. My half lidded eyes watched as I received such a reaction out of him. “Look at me, baby.” I cupped his jaw.

I watched him slowly lower his head only to find him giving me a pleading look. Half lidded eyes, eyebrows furrowed, lip caught between his teeth. I whimpered, that look paired with his length dragging along my velvety walls was blissfully pleasant. I bit my lip, “Don't stop, love, please.” he begged, shaking his head.

I placed both of my hands along the back of his shoulders, holding on to him. “Faster.” I whispered to him like a spell. He shivered and placed one of his hands on the mirror behind me and the other on the nape of my neck. His slow stroke turned fast paced. My eyes rolled back and I pulled my lip in between my teeth.

He groaned as my nails left marks on his back. Power intensifying due to what I feel. Sending waves of energy throughout his body. My walls pulsed around him. “Bloody hell!” he gritted. His tip caressed that spot deep inside of me with every thrust. It drove me mad. The way he knew my body better than I did. “I’m close baby!” I moaned loudly. “You gonna’ come for me, love?” he whispered in my ear. "Yesss!" I whined. "Hold it for me baby." he grunted. "I can't!" I whimpered. He creeped his hand from the nape of my neck into my scalp. He grabbed a handful of my braids and pulled. "Oh my God! Don't stop!" I yelped. "You like that?" He grunted. I moaned loudly as a tear threatened to fall. I was in ecstasy. "I know baby. I know." He grunted quickening his pace. He licked a path up my pulse.

He made me look him in his eyes, “You feel so good, baby. Fuck!” He gritted breathlessly. “I’m close baby.” His strokes faltered as I felt him twitching inside me. “Cum for me baby. Let it out.” He coaxed. He reached to rub circles over my cunt. I felt the knot unravel, I held him as close to me as possible. My legs shook as I came, screaming and scratching at his shoulders. A tear falling from my eyes.

As intense as the feeling was, the strength of my magic increased as well. “Fuckkkk Nova!” He released an elongated groan, squeezing me. He latches his teeth onto my shoulder making me whimper as I felt ropes of his hot cum shoot into me.

As we came down from our high, we caught our breath. I rested my head on his shoulder, exhausted. I whimpered, my legs shaking uncontrollably. He chuckled. I was ready to go to sleep. He slowly slipped away causing me to whine from the loss of fullness and warmth. He cleaned us up and picked up our clothes. He helped me redress and did the same for himself. He stood between my legs again. He rubbed my sides.

“You alright there, love?” He asked with a grin. “Yeah.” I sighed deeply. “That was amazing.” He chuckled softly, placing his forehead on mine. I laughed breathily, “Yes it was.” I embraced him and placed my lips on his. When our lips made contact, butterflies filled my stomach.

“Can you help me down, please? We still got a mission to finish.” I chuckled. He held my waist and lifted me off the sink. “Got it?” He asked. I nodded and began walking toward the door, only to stumble. Rob was right there to catch me. “You sure you got it?” He laughed. I hit his chest, “Don’t laugh at me. I just… need a little assistance.” I said giggling. “Uh huh. A little assistance. I think that’s a bit of an understatement, love.” He shook his head. “Whatever. Let’s get back to work.” I rolled my eyes as he helped me to the door. He unlocked it and we walked out.

We walked past people who were glaring at us because they were waiting to use the restroom. The team was eyeing us from around the room. Their smirks and knowing expressions made feel uncomfortable. I hated being the center of attention. We spotted Thinker, and it was back to the matter at hand.

#zthewriter #mysecretattic #bloodsport #bloodsport x reader #bloodsport X black!reader #the suicide squad #idris elba #bloodsport smut #mdni #smut #18+ mdni

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macabrebatz · 15 days ago

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There’s not enough fanfiction of him on here. *sigh* Guess I gotta fix that.

#bloodsport #dc comics #idris elba #Robert Dubois #bloodsport x reader #Robert Dubois x reader #the suicide squad #dc comics x reader #dc comics fanfiction #dc comics headcanons

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south-of-heaven · 1 year ago

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jon moxley x fem!reader where he is in a match with orange cassidy and kris statlander tries to sabotage him so reader takes her down and he’s like “ that’s my girl.”?

Atta girl! || Jon Moxley x Reader

Summary: You make sure there are no outside interferences in Jon's match.

The arena was buzzing with energy as Jon prepared to step into the ring for his match against Orange Cassidy. You watched with bated breath, seated at ringside, as Jon made his entrance, ready for a fight. This was a crucial match, and the last thing you wanted was interference from anyone.

As the bell rang, and Jon and Orange Cassidy began to circle each other, you noticed Kris Statlander lurking nearby. She had a determined look in her eyes, and it was clear she had something in mind.

Suddenly, Kris lunged forward, attempting to interfere in the match. She tried to trip Jon, and you knew you had to act fast. You sprang into action, moving swiftly to intercept her.

With a well-timed move, you knocked her feet out from under her, sending her sprawling to the ground. Kris was caught off guard, her interference thwarted by your quick thinking.

Jon, in the midst of his battle with Orange Cassidy, caught sight of your successful takedown of Kris. A proud grin crossed his face as he continued to fight in the ring.

"Atta girl! Good job!" he yelled, his voice filled with appreciation for your efforts. You gave him a nod, letting him know that you were always there to have his back.

With Kris's interference now dealt with, Jon could focus entirely on the match. The crowd roared with approval, and you settled back into your seat, determined to keep a watchful eye in case anyone else had any ideas of interfering.

Jon's determination was unwavering, and as the match continued, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for the man you loved. He was a force to be reckoned with, and he had you by his side, ready to support him in and out of the ring.

#aew collision #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #aew dynamite #aew rampage #all elite wrestling #jon moxley x reader #jon moxley #jonathan good #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wwe #wrestling #dean ambrose x reader #dean ambrose #blackpool combat club #bloodsport

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manhandlememando · 11 days ago

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loving you is a bloodsport. | cregan stark

cregan stark x f!Mormont!reader

format: one-shot

tw: (buckle up y’all, we’re in for a ride) MDNI warning: attempted SA, heavy gore, violence and resulting injury descriptions, BLOOD, descriptions of injury to an animal, ptsd symptoms, anxiety attacks, language, blatant sexism, female rage, enraged/feral Cregan (the warning is very necessary he almost bites off someone's finger)

NSFW warning: this work has sexual elements not suitable for those under 18 years old. please MDNI. (piv sex, oral (both receiving), face fucking, praise kink, sickly sweet Cregan, semi-rough sex, the Stark breeding kink, THEY BREAK THE HEADBOARD), no physical description of reader other than female anatomy and hair that is somewhat long.

word count: 12.3k

song inspirations: talk by Hozier, moments silence (common tongue) by Hozier, me and the devil by Soap&Skin, girl with one eye by Florence and the Machine, brutus by The Buttress, seven devils by Florence and the Machine, devil’s backbone by The Civil Wars, shallows by Daughter, foreigners god by Hozier, it will come back by Hozier, to be alone by Hozier

excerpt: The growl that escaped the beast reverberated throughout the small pit, being felt within the chests of all the men spectating. However, fear eluded her as she looked into the animals eyes, accepting her fate with a fury. The cry that left her as she charged the creature could have caused even the most barbarous of warriors to quell in fear. Dodging the swipe of its large paws, she lunges forward with the small blade that was provided to her. If she is to die here, it will be a death of integrity knowing she was more like the beast in front of her than anything as meek as the men watching from above. They will not take my strength, she thought as the claws of the grizzly descended upon her.

- or -

Lady Stark is abducted in the night from the walls of Winterfell by a vassal house of the Starks. Thinking that by placing his wife into the jaws of a grizzly, the Warden of the North would bend to their will. They do not know how mistaken they are.

this story is dedicated to all those who have felt the heavy hand of the patriarchy upon their shoulders, or have fallen victim to it. i see you, i hear you, our rage is valid. keep fighting.

It was a commanding sort of presence that she held, not forceful, but one of reserved strength that cultivated respect amongst the people of Winterfell. Their Warden of the North and Liege Lord had chosen wisely in his marriage pact with House Mormont.

It was this same conserved ferocity that drew him to her, he could feel the magnetic pull of her tenacious spirit the second he was in her acute vicinity. Her eyes held a look that was as firm as stone, and her mind was as sharp as a blade. It was known that the women of House Mormont held a certain standing on their island that couldn’t be found in much of Westeros; women could be rulers, and warriors. Having been raised by her father, Lord Mormont, after the passing of her mother in childbirth. The young girl grew into a fearsome woman, having been trained as the successor to the Mormont line, she was raised as any heir would be; as a son. Given her families ancestral sword, Long Claw, at the age of just six and ten she was a formidable fighter in just two years time. With the full understanding of how she would be viewed as the “weaker sex” by the men on her fathers council, she made sure to mold herself into one of the most indisputable warriors on the small island. No man dared to raise a sword against her unless they wanted to be met with the what most referred to as the “she-beast”.

Cregan knew from the moment they met that he would wed her. They were young when they first made each others acquaintance, not more than 10 years of age. She had traveled with her father to attend the annual feast which House Stark held in the Great Keep of Winterfell. He still remembers seeing her for the first time as she descended from the wheelhouse that she had ridden in. Feeling his heart clench and his throat go dry, Cregan was not normally at a loss for words, but her whole presence consumed him. She was like sunlight embodied, a miracle born within a person. Her beauty touched everything in her vicinity with its warm glow. It was hard for him to look anywhere else when she was near. It was an instinctual feeling, one that arose within him being something involuntary and foreign to him. As if it had been whispered to him long ago by the Old Gods themselves; she will be your wife, someday.

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The flesh of his back had been clawed raw. Teeth marks and deep bruises left behind by her violent kisses had begun to blossom on Cregan’s neck and shoulders. She is a bear, indeed, Cregan thought to himself as an amused expression crossed his face. Gazing at his reflection in the looking glass in the corner of their marital chambers.

The bedchamber was a haven for both of them, the privacy lending itself to their most animalistic acts. The two had been wed only a day previously, not being able to leave the sanctity of their post-coital bliss much before falling back into one another. Ripped clothing strewn across furniture, fur pelts and pillows lined the floor, the carved wooden headboard now on the verge of cracking due to the fissures created in the wood as they tore into each other.

The bedding ceremony never seemed to end, although it never truly began as Cregan refused to allow anyone to view such an intimate act. Feeling incredibly protective over his newlywed, he would hear no argument on the matter because her body was for his indulgence, and his only.

Although, for those living within the walls of the castle it was very apparent that the consummation had taken place, many times. The sounds which echoed throughout the castle that night could be heard by all as Cregan led her to her highest peaks over and over again. But the symphony of pleasure didn’t stop once the sun graced the horizon, or even when it was touching the highest point in the sky.

However they had grown increasingly hungry as the night grew closer and dusk layered its deep blues around the fading light on the horizon. The stars beginning to seep through the darkening navy sky, as if surfacing from the black ocean where they swim to look upon the Earth as the eyes of world did the same to them. Standing upon the balcony which sat just off of their bedchamber, she took a long breath as a small smile rose to her lips, turning her eyes to the shining specks in the sky.

How lucky am I? She thought to herself, knowing that she no longer had to prove herself worthy of a station, or a role in a council. Having been raised as the heir to Bear Island she had always felt a sense of pressure to encapsulate the image of the "perfect daughter". However, her father thought she did not see his disapproving glares or glances of doubt or disappointment as the time passed. He wanted a son, not her. But now she finally knew what it felt like to be wanted, having not known the feeling from her father in her lifetime, it was an emotion she couldn’t even put into words. Her father cared for her, to an extent, but mainly treated her as a thing to be trained and disciplined, rather than a daughter to be loved.

“Darling?” She heard Cregan call from somewhere inside, pulling her from her thoughts. Moments later the large wooden door creaked open as he finally appeared, the softest smile gracing his face as he laid eyes upon her.

“What’re you doing out here? You’ll catch a chill, my love,” his voice laced with concern as he pulled the wool housecoat from his shoulders and placed it around hers.

“I just wanted to get a breath of fresh air before we go dine for the night,” she responds, smiling as he pulls her into him.

“We have worked up quite an appetite, have we not?” Cregan teases, leaning down to brush his nose with hers. “Shall we go?” He asks softly, his lips brushing hers as he speaks. She nods and giggles as he swallows her answer in a kiss. It would be a miracle if they made it to the dining room at all.

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The food prepared for the Lord and Lady of Winterfell was decedent and rich, warming her stomach and easing the hunger that began to naw away at her gut.

“Does the foodstuffs suffice, my love?” Cregan asks, looking at her with an amused expression on his face. She was almost inhaling her meal, the answer to his question being quite obvious. She nodded as she took another bite, humming in contentment at the burst of flavor in her mouth.

They sat in silence as they each devoured what was left on their plates, sharing kind glances and small laughs of amusement. After they had finished dining, he beckoned one of the servants to bring forth their dessert. However, his breath seemed to escape him as he felt a hand begin to creep up his inner thigh.

She had reached under the tablecloth and begun to slowly move her hand to the rapidly growing bulge in her husbands trousers.

“My mischievous wife, what do you think you’re doing?” Cregan whispered, giving her a warning glance as the dessert was placed in front of each of them. She didn’t respond, only sliding her hand further up his thigh. He had to suppress a groan as her palm grazed his hard length, giving the serving butler a curt nod and dismissing the rest of the staff from the dining room. As he hears the rumble of large hinges moving and wood connecting, he knows they are finally alone.

“I think you know exactly what I’m doing, dear husband,” she said as she sank herself onto the soft pelt on the floor beneath the table. Crawling beneath the expansive wooden slab to appear between Cregan’s knees, a smirk dancing on her lips as she licked them in anticipation.

“You will be my dessert, my love. I desire nothing more than what you have to offer me,” she said in a low seductive voice, beginning to undo the thin strings of his breaches. Cregan stared at her with eyes the size of the serving platters resting on the table. His mouth hung slightly agape and a soft moan escaped his plush lips as she finally released him from the confines of his breaches and smallclothes.

“I do not deserve this, let us continue in our -,” Cregan begins to reason, not seeing the point in allowing her to indulge him when he’d done nothing to deserve it. But before he could finish his nonsensical statement, he was cut off in a loud moan as she took him fully in her mouth. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat immediately, causing her to gag slightly but she was not discouraged from her actions. Only opening her throat more to accommodate her well-endowed husband.

“Fuck… oh dear Gods,” he groaned, his breath staggered as his hands tightly gripped the arms of the dining chair, his self control beginning to lack as she continued her heavenly ministrations. As she rose to the tip of his cock, she revealed the sensitive head to her lips, kissing his leaking tip and circling her tongue around it. Cregan could barely think, the sweet whimpers and moans falling from his lips caused a burning coal of desire to ignite in her womb. She adored the way he could hardly say her name without it transforming into a delicious groan of ecstasy.

“My love - Seven hells… oh fuck,” Cregan couldn’t form a sentence before another moan would swallow his words and leave him breathless. Looking towards the ceiling with brows furrowed and his jaw slack with pleasure, Cregan was a sinful sight to the Gods.

She slowly ascended off of him, bringing her lips to the base of his length and laying a kiss to the sensitive spot that laid just above his heavy balls. She relished in the choked groan that the action elicited from him, Cregan's hand grasping her hair so tightly it stung but she only hummed at the sensation. The vibration of her moan as she took him back into her mouth sent Cregan into a heady space, suddenly feeling himself lose any sense of restraint. The hand that was laced into her hair moved to the back of her neck as he sat up somewhat, gasping and panting as they shifted position. The hand that wasn’t anchored to her was tightly gripping the top corner of the chair as his hips shifted to change the angle; he wants leverage.

Just as the thought ran through her head she felt his hips buck upward, beginning to slowly move in rhythm with her mouth. She let him take control of the pace after several more thrusts had hit the back of her throat. She knew Cregan loved it when she allowed him to fuck her mouth. He tried to be gentle, he really did. But within a minute of such actions he was gripping the hair at the back of her neck with a force as he arched his back and drove more power into his thrusts. He often got lost in the oasis that was her form, his love and lust mixing and becoming so intense even he became blinded to his strength. Although he would never intentionally bring harm to her.

As she took a fleeting look up towards his face, she wasn’t able to find her breath at the sight before her. His head was thrown back, mouth open in an illicit moan, neck strained and flushed red. His Adam's Apple protruding and bobbing along with his moans. The scarlet hue disappeared down past the collar of the thick tunic he wore, his chiseled chest out of view. However, she knew full well how far down that sea of hot, flushed skin really went. She could see how his body was arching off the back of the chair, muscles in his arms flexing with the strain of each thrust. The only thing keeping him from falling off his perch on the edge being his other arm finding purchase on the back of the chair. In that moment he looked down to her and seeing those beautiful hues in her irises staring back at him, he felt himself tip over the edge into the Seven heavens themselves.

She felt the slight stutter of his hips and with a final deep thrust into her throat he came with a howl of a groan.

"OH - ngghh - fuck... yes, fuck like that," he gasped, a low whine rupturing from deep within his chest, trying to ground himself as his wife continued to slowly drag him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He slumped against the steep back of the dining chair, his legs trembling as he spread them wider and his hands found purchase on the arms of the chair once again. She finally lifted her mouth from his cock, her lips glistening with a mixture of spit and his arousal. He chuckled lightly at the sight.

She is a gift bestowed upon this Earth by the Old Gods themselves, he thought to himself.

"I do not deserve you," he said as he smiled softly, reaching a hand down to cradle her jaw as she hummed in contentment at his words. "You are more angel than human, I am astounded by you with every passing moment we share with one another. I love you, I do hope you know that," Cregan spoke, the sentiment behind his statement clear within his words as well as his tone. His eyes searching hers, looking for an answer.

"I do know, my dear husband. I know very well, and I love you just the same," she said, a smile gracing her features as she rose from the floor beneath the table. Grabbing Cregan's breaches from the furs and handing them to him with a smirk, she moved back to her seat to his left at the large table.

"Shall we finish our dessert?" She asked cheekily, and his only response was a hearty laugh that filled the room with his joy.

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Several weeks following their wedding, the Lord and Lady of Winterfell were torn from their bed in the night. It is still unclear to Cregan how his men had been so easily overwhelmed, how he hadn't heard anything, or seen anything. No one had.

It was as if he had woken from a slumber into a nightmare itself. Cregan felt himself be ripped from the sheets and dragged to the floor before he had a moment to comprehend exactly what was happening.

He reached for his beloved but was met with empty air and soon opened his eyes to find her being held up by her hair, whimpering in pure terror as Lord Bolton loomed over her. Feeling the strong arms of some of Bolton's guards beginning to constrict themselves around Cregan, he fought against them as hard as he could.

"You bastard! What in the Seven Hell's is going on? Let her go, don't you dare touch her!" Cregan yelled, beginning to thrash against the men trying to contain him. Lord Bolton only chuckled darkly as he then took her by the neck and hauled her towards him.

She let out a choked cough as his palm pressed her airway. Pinning her back to his chest with his hand still snaked around her neck, she began struggling against him and clawing at his wrists.

“You foolish… foolish girl!” Lord Bolton exclaimed, wrestling against her as she continued to thrash against him. Holding her still with him other arm, Lord Bolton finally subdued her.

“The ties between House Mormont and House Stark will be forever broken tonight. The Stark household has had control of the North for far too long, and with this new union it is made clear to all other vassal houses that they are less important. It is whispered we will have less say in certain matters, and that this bitch and her feeble House Mormont has more standing than mine own,” Lord Bolton seethed, releasing her neck and yanking at Lady Starks hair once more. She let out a small huff to shroud her discomfort, she would never show weakness to this man as long as she could help it. Although, as she looked at Cregan who was now being held to the floor of their bedchambers, she felt the small trickle of terror slip down her neck and root itself into her spine.

“I will not let that stand,” Lord Bolton snarled and nodded to one of his men to step forward. With much difficulty he was able to get a black hood over the woman’s head, his fingers narrowly dodging her nashing teeth. Cregan bellowed as he fought against the hands holding him down, barely allowing a hood to be placed over his head as well. Spewing profanities and declarations of violence, Cregan tried to make his voice sound as poisonous as possible. But through his verbal assault he could hear her slight gasps and whimpers of pain, and not being able to see what was befalling his wife, his panic grew tenfold.

“Bolton I’ll have your fucking head for this!” Cregan barked, yanking at the hands on his limbs as they hauled him from the ground and to his feet. He could still hear her growling at Lord Bolton, hearing a shuffled noise and a clear sound of struggle, Cregan’s breath hitched as his throat closed. He was powerless, his vision stripped from him and his strength subdued.

“Get off of me you sinister man!” She shrieked as she felt Lord Bolton grab at her waist and snake his arms around her from the back, holding her tightly to him. He had since been able to tie her hands behind her, with much difficulty. Therefore she was powerless to the blade she could feel against her neck. As she tried to pull away from his taunting grip the blade cut into the skin of her throat causing her to shout in pain, the abrupt sound ending in a rumble of fury.

“I will slit this beautiful throat like that of a lamb for slaughter,” Lord Bolton sneered to her.

“You’re fucking dead, Bolton! You’re dead! I’ll kill you myself, get the FUCK OFF MY WI-!” She heard Cregan roar from what sounded like only ten feet in front of her, only to be cut off by the sound of a crack of metal meeting skull. The slump of his body could be heard faintly as he fell limp into the men’s arms. She was then dragged from the bedchamber and into the halls of Winterfell, the bitter cold of the stone floor scraping against her bare feet.

"The Stark family has had too much say in the matters of the North over these many years, they are not the only house capable of holding The Wall. Have you ever wondered what it could be like if your father ruled as the Warden of the North? Or... possibly myself?" Lord Bolton ventured in his treasonous explanation of how he would take control of the castle, as he had already done with some of the Stark's guardsmen. She was struck then with the notion that Lord Bolton and the men he brought with him must have had help to enter and now exit the Keep without being noticed.

"Who have you been conspiring with in these treacherous plans? How did you gain access to the Kee- ," she begins to question sharply, not giving him any recognition on his comments. Only until she is struck again, this time blood sprouting from a small cut on her lip. The taste of iron and musk on her tongue only angered her more.

"Shut up, you stupid woman. You dare interrupt me when I am speaking to you? Such behavior will not be tolerated when you are my wife," Lord Bolton sneered, she could feel his hot breath through the dark cloth of the hood, recoiling from him at his statement. Beginning to pull against Lord Bolton once more, she spoke her rejections to the union loudly, trying desperately to get free of this torment. In her effort to evade her captor, she received the same end as her lord husband as she was knocked unconscious.

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She did not know how long she had been unconscious or where it was she had been taken, but by the biting feeling against her wrists and the throb in her head she knew the attack wasn’t a nightmare. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had been kidnapped and many of their guards slaughtered. Feared gripped at her chest as she felt rough hands on her arms holding her still, and the cold bite of the wind against the exposed skin of her hands and upper chest only furthered her anxiety. Was she outside? She thought so, but even with the hood over her head she could barely tell if it was night or day.

“Has she awoken?” She hears Lord Bolton ask somewhere in the distance and the soft padding of feet on muddy ground neared towards her. Suddenly she felt a strong grip on her arm, gasping at the brutality of it as her skin stung with the aggression of his hold on her. Feeling herself being let go by those who held her previously, she was then pulled forward, her feet betrayed her once more as she stumbled in the mud.

“Come here,” she heard Lord Bolton growl as he yanked her upright, her stumble having caused her to fall to her knees.

With a flash of blinding light the hood is then torn from her head, and she is not able to see her surroundings for a moment or two as her eyes adjusted to the light of day. However, she could hear Cregan’s protests from somewhere close, but they were muffled. Sounding as if he was trying to speak through wads of fabric.

They fucking gagged him, she thought as she felt anger boil in the pit of her stomach. The emotion making its way into her body as the flames of ferocity licked up her spine and finally nestled themselves in her chest cavity, making a home in her heart. As her eyes adjusted, they burned holes into the figure before her; Lord Bolton finally coming into focus.

She could see the smug expression wash over his sharp features, twisting them into something more sinister than that of what lied within. She despised this man, and all like him. The audacity of man knew no bounds, reaching far and wide, ever perpetuated by its own grueling ends; unable to breed love for one another, men would sooner tear each other apart then see vulnerability conquer over power. As for the women and innocent, the vulnerable and the weak, it is them who are forever afflicted with the agony of oppression, the pain seeping deep into their bones and finding a final resting place in the generations to come.

She knew this, she had known all her life what it felt like to want to be a son. Although her father granted her the liberty of becoming the heir to the Mormont household, it became quite clear what his true intentions for her were when the marriage proposal from Cregan was accepted. Her uncle was then named heir to the seat she had been promised since her first breath.

Men had already disappointed her more times than she could count, and although she did love Cregan dearly, her father had broken her heart as he had his promise to her. Therefore, she did not fear Lord Bolton or his threats towards her, even as he grabbed her by the chin and forced her to meet his eye. Her response was only to sneer and spit in his sullen face, his expression morphing into one of disgust as he brought his hand across her face with a quick slap. Watching his wife be struck, Cregan could be heard roaring against the fabric that had been shoved in his mouth, soft grunts of effort could also be heard escaping Lord Bolton's men as they tried to wrangle Cregan into standing still. The disgraced Northern Lord turned towards her lord husband with a rather nauseating smile. Yanking her forward he neared Cregan enough to reach out and take the dark fabric from her husbands mouth, barely moving his hand away before Cregan could catch it in his teeth.

"Tell me, Stark, is she an obedient wife? She seems fiery in nature, is she the same to bed?" Lord Bolton asked, turning to look back at her as his grip on her arms tightened.

"No! No, no please!" She shrieked as she felt him tear her robe from around her frame, leaving her in only a thin shift. Pulling away from him, digging her bare feet into the earth as she tried to escape his hold. Her hands and wrists ached as she tugged at the twine that had bound them behind her. Her breath beginning to come to her in short bursts as the true reality of the situation had sunk in. Cregan was making threats of terrifying violence towards all those present and participating in this coup. Hurling vile insults at Lord Bolton as he practically foamed at the mouth with fury. However, beneath the horrifying facade Cregan adorned, he was struck with fear to his core.

"Stop. Fighting." The vile brute of a man grunted as he tried to control the woman in his grip. She looked to Cregan then who could be heard howling in protest the entire time, continuing his struggles against the limbs of the men holding him. He held her gaze, the terror reflecting between them as his heart broke over and over again. Cregan couldn't protect her, and as much as he tried, he couldn't seem to free himself. Although, at the thought of being made to watch the horror before him as Lord Bolton took hold of the one thing in the world that could affect him, Cregan vowed he would die before allowing it to happen.

The woman was proving a worthy adversary to the Lord of the Dreadfort, continuing to evade his full control over her as she slipped from his grip once more. Her arms were welted and showing the signs of the struggle she was putting forth. The cold of the wind seemed to lash at her limbs that were now fully exposed to the elements. Her robe had been stripped from her and she stood before the men in just her cotton sleeping shift. The fabric was thin and pale and left little to be desired from the view of her frame, she saw the young knights of the Dreadfort and how their eyes wouldn’t move from her, even if they put in an effort too. Bile rose from deep within her throat at the thought of not only this disgraceful man taking advantage of her against her will, but also knowing it would be for all else to see.

Although the fear was prevalent in her mind, the adrenaline was finally beginning to kick in as she felt the hairs on her body stand at attention. With a final tug of her body from Lord Bolton’s grasp, she stumbled and fell into the muddy earth of the pit below.

With a sharp gasp and piercing shriek she hit the ground hard, causing the wind to evade her lungs and a struggling gasp to pass her lips. Having been standing so close to the edge of the circular, wood-paneled ring, it was not surprising that she had fallen over the edge in her attempt to finally get away from the Lord of the Dreadfort.

She could hear the menacing laughter emanating from above her, the vile sound bouncing between Lord Bolton's men and the Lord himself.

"It seems our entertainment will begin sooner than expected, boys!" Lord Bolton announced, walking towords Cregan, addressing him as he did. "See, I had planned on taking her as my own as the Gods bare witness, as well as yourself. Prolonging your pain would be more satisfying than flaying a man alive, which is my custom as you well know, but it seems the Gods have other plans. After consumating the union of my new marriage, I was going to leave you to the beast and watch as it mauled you for our wedding entertainment. But this seems to prove more interesting, does it not?" Lord Bolton smirks and Cregan only bellowed louder. "If she survives, she will be my prize, and I will have the pleasure of killing the Warden of the North myself," Lord Bolton sneered as Cregan spit at him. The fury behind Cregan's eyes was unhinged, dragon fire could not even compare.

Wiping the saliva from his face, Lord Bolton only grinned, "Hold him still. I want him to see all of this," he said to his men. Cregan couldn't think straight, the fire residing within him spreading across his entire body as he pushed and pulled against the men holding him in his place. Looking down into the muddy pit below, he could see a door being opened to reveal a large, formidable animal, and the fear that gripped his wife as she struggled to free her hands.

She looked up to be met with a mass of dark fur and the small dark eyes of the massive creature before her. A bear, the sigil of House Mormont, a beast that she was raised to respect and model her own spirit after. Something she found strength in, a force akin to religion, something to find faith in; and now she was being made to destroy that of which she had built her own strength upon. The notion of it all was revolting. Looking around her, she drew in shaky breaths, she searched for any form of weapon to defend herself with. In that instant Lord Bolton seemed to find a sliver of remorse in his heart and tossed a small blade down to her, smirking as he did so. The bear emitted a thunderous roar as it began to circle the circumference of the small pit. She brought the blade to the twine still binding her hands behind her back and was able to free herself after somewhat of a struggle, moving away from the carnal animal as she did so. Fear subsided to her more natural instincts and suddenly her head became clear. She looked up to meet the eyes of the bear before her, drawing in deep breaths and settling into a skin that was known to her; the skin of the "she-beast".

My old friend, how good it is to have you with me again, she thought to herself. She would not allow these men to diminish her power or to take it from her. Every woman is born with the rage of their mother nestled deep within their chest, the resulting anger of years of being made less than human. The sorrow of being made to sacrifice their bodies and their souls for a man's pleasure, weighed upon her shoulders. She could feel it, she always had. It seemed accustomed to every woman she had ever met, to share a deep-seeded understanding that this world was not made for us, but for us to attend to. She refused that notion, and in this moment when no other woman was there to share this fury and sorrow with her, she decided to embody it herself, for all those who didn't have a chance to fight. For all those who were made less than, or treated as only a body to be taken. They will not take this from me, she vowed to herself.

The growl that escaped the beast reverberated throughout the small pit, being felt within the chests of all the men spectating. However, fear eluded her as she looked into the animals eyes, accepting her fate with a fury. The cry that left her as she charged the creature could have caused even the most barbarous of warriors to quell in fear. Dodging the swipe of its large paws, she lunges forward with the small blade that was provided to her. If she is to die here, it will be a death of integrity knowing she was more like the beast in front of her than anything as meek as the men watching from above. They will not take my strength, she thought as the claws of the grizzly descended upon her. Her mind had been captivated by adrenaline, her muscles now following in the steps of combat that they had walked before. Although she had never faced such a formidable opponent as this beast, she knew her training would serve her well. She rolled to evade the claws of the bear, ducking beneath its giant form and bringing the blade to its underbelly as she did so. An agitated sound escaped the brute as she cut into its fur, resulting with a swipe of its large paw in her direction. However, this time she wasn't quick enough to side step the beast and its claws caught her collarbone and ripped the flesh open. A scream of agony left her and she stumbled to the outer part of the fighting pit. The bear's eyes met hers once more and she could see the bloodthirsty look reflected within them. The beast snarled and ran towards her, outstretching another paw to swipe at her again, but she managed to dodge it once more and bring the blade across the creature's arm this time. This only resulted in more fury from the beast, a deep grumble of rage came from its bared teeth.

I can do this, she thought to herself as the bear stalked her along the edge of the ring, contemplating its next move. There was a moment of stillness between them, as if they were both assessing the other and its next move. Although, she knew it wouldn't be long before another move was made, so she chose hers. With a terrifying yell she charged the beast, it rose on its hindquarters with its two front paws out to block the blow, but as she got near it, she ducked. Deceiving the beast and sliding in the mud towards its belly. The blade was firm in her hand as she drove it into the creatures heart, twisting it as deep as she could, so the hilt was half-way into its flesh. A pained cry came from the animal, and it slumped over her, still thrashing its paws at whatever it could reach. She only drove her own body deeper under the bear, trying to avoid the creatures talons as much as possible.

Cregan watched in horror as the whole ordeal played out, not knowing if his wife would survive or not. When she disappeared in the mound of fur his heart clenched at the notion that she would not emerge.

When she arose from beneath the creature, it was as if the bloodthirsty beast had become her. Drenched in deep maroon, her torn shift clung to her form as the blood created small streams down her limbs. It matted her hair and splattered her face in a nauseating way, creating an image that struck fear into the souls of all bearing witness. As she lifted her gaze, she was met with the sight of Lord Bolton descending from his perch at the edge of the pit.

“You don’t have a choice, anymore,” he spoke in a tone laced with malice and smugness, as if taking claim to her before even placing a hand on her.

“NO! Don’t you dare touch her, you cunt!” Cregan screamed, finding more strength in his limbs and beginning to fight back against those holding him still. The three men had to be assisted by two others as Cregan had broken one of his hands free and connected it to the nearest jaw he saw. Cregan was spouting profanities at Bolton’s men as he was once again pinned to the cold ground. Two of the men now holding each of his legs, two pinning both of his arms, and one having to climb on top of Cregan in order to prevent him from getting up. However, the man holding his left arm down was not paying enough attention to the positioning of his hand upon the Lord’s shoulder. Cregan lunged his head down and caught the man’s pinky between his teeth, and without a second thought he bit down, hard. The man shrieked in pain and recoiled from Cregan in seconds. His pinky still intact but bent at an angle and would sport a nasty scar at the base of it for the rest of the man’s life.

Cregan only smiled, a sickening sight as his mouth was stained crimson. With his hand now free he reaches behind him to unsheathe one of the other’s swords, and then in an instant he rolled to his right, causing the man perched atop him to fall to the ground. It took Cregan a moment to gather his mind, because before swinging the sword as he glanced over and saw how Lord Bolton was stalking towards her. He was beginning to undo his cloak and doublet, it only further spurned the fire that was burning hot in Cregan’s chest. However more men who had been spectating came to replace those of whom suffered the Wolf of the North’s wrath and had fallen to him. Although, this time they did not pin him. Instead choosing to hold him upright with a blade to his neck, grabbing him by the hair and forcing him to watch as the devil descended upon his wife. Cregan refused to show weakness, but in his chest arose panic and fear as he struggled against the men’s hold on him. Small cuts littering his neck as the blade was pushed harder against it.

“I’ll slit your fucking throat, don’t think I won’t,” the man holding the knife whispered into Cregan’s ear.

“And I’ll have your head for this,” Cregan spit back, yanking his body forward once more as the men stumbled with him. His strength a hard match for the four men it took to hold him in place. The blade dug into his skin but he didn’t care, the pain of the small knife was nothing compared to what he was being made to witness.

She let Lord Bolton approach, standing as if stone had solidified her muscles, but pulled taught as if ready to spring. The moment his hand outstretched towards her chest she reacted, swiftly ducking beneath his reach and taking hold of his exposed wrist and plunging her knife deep into the supple skin. Only releasing the blade when she felt the crunch of bone as it connected.

Lord Bolton screamed and crumpled around the fatal wound, holding his limp hand in his grasp. Towering over his quivering form she lifted a leg and connected her foot to the man’s shoulder, easily pushing him to the ground. As he continued to whimper and gasp in the depths of pain, she slowly descended upon his form. Kneeling beside him as she lowered her mouth to his ear.

“Any sane woman would choose a feral beast over the threat of a meager man and his cock, every time. Know this, Lord Bolton, fore if you leave the woman to the bear long enough she will learn its ways, and will return to rip your heart from your chest while adorning a smile," she whispered, her bloodstained lips twisting into a malicious smirk.

"Seven Hells," Lord Bolton cowered, wincing at her words.

"Yes... I do hope you experience every single one of them, and when you meet with each of the seven devils, tell them who sent you; they should learn my name," she growls, her face only inches from his, and he could see then that this unadulterated rage with which she embodied was going to be his demise. It was then that she arose to her feet, grasping the man's sword as she did so.

Too enthralled in her own fury, she was not perceptive of how the audience before her had gone quiet. The men of House Bolton becoming increasingly aware of their Lord's imminent death. With a final cry she drove Lord Bolton's own sword into his chest, spearing him through the heart. The blood curdled gasp he released was one of disbelief, not understanding that he had lost, indefinitely.

She couldn't feel her limbs as she ripped the sword from his chest and raised it above her head, but she heard her words clear as day.

"Anyone who wishes to challenge me for the Bolton line, step forward now!" She shouted, looking to each of the men that stood above her at the edge of the ring. Her husband took the opportunity to continue to physically lash out at each of the men, continuing to pull ferociously at each of his limbs at an attempt to break free. The audience of men was stunned, looking between each other with gaping mouths as they waited for someone to make the first move. It was one of the men trying to hold Cregan still that acted first, letting go of his Liege Lord and stepping back with his hands raised. The others followed suit, taking several steps away from the enraged man as they released their hold on him. Cregan let out a cry and began attacking anyone who was in reach. Landing multiple blows to the man's jaw and screaming obscenities as he did so.

She watched as her husband tore through two more Bolton men, the Wolf of the North making appearances through his blinding rampage. The sword felt heavy in her hands, and she could feel her legs begin to grow weak. The sword hit the ground before she did, exhaustion taking hold of her frame as she stared into the greying sky, rain drops began slowly falling and painting her blood-tainted skin with lines of pink and white as she let the darkness take her vision.

————————————————————————

The darkness of the night brought the greying memories hidden in the back of her mind that kept her recollection of that day, into full florescent light.

Cregan found himself waking at least once every night after that treacherous one, to the sound of her screams and pleas for mercy that weren’t warranted to anything outside of her own mind. It had become something of a routine they had subconsciously formed, a torturous nightly ritual that seemed never-ending. Cregan would wake with terror at the sound of a wail, instinctually he would turn in the direction of the sound and try to bring her into his arms as quickly as possible. Holding her tightly to his chest, brushing her sweat-matted hair from her forehead and placing soft kisses in the wake of his fingers.

“You are okay, my girl. You’re alright. We’re home in Winterfell, you’re with me, and you are safe,” he whispered into her hairline.

“You are safe,” he repeated the statement in reassurance as he began to rock her slowly. But a soft pang rang through his chest as she continued to tremble in his arms. He could hear her still weeping, burying her face in his broad shoulder and clutching him like he would disappear into thin air. He brought his hand to the back of her head and cradled her to him, continuing to mumble sweet nothings into her ear.

“I just want to stop seeing it, even in my sleep; seeing him lying there in front of me slowly approaching death from an injury I inflicted. It keeps happening over and over in my head, it’s torturing,” her voice shook as she explained the terrors that plagued her memory. All Cregan knew at this moment was pain, knowing he would not be the salve to heal this wound to her mind. But he would be here for her always, holding her as she fought a battle in her head that he couldn’t get to; it was torture for him too.

“I’m so sorry, my sunlight. Such a beautiful brain shouldn’t be polluted with this grotesque darkness. You did not deserve to have this happen to you and I am sorry I wasn’t able to protect you from it,” he said softly, emotion weighing his voice down as his sentence came to a close. He felt as she trembled in his arms, wanting nothing more than to bring her the comfort she so deserves. Yet, once again, he was left to fall on his metaphorical sword and watch as she suffered these horrors in her own mind; feeling forever helpless.

————————————————————————

The Lord of Winterfell had been summoned to a meeting in the council hall by his Bannerman of the North, regarding an urgent matter, or so it stated in the note he had received.

“Why have I been summoned here when it is I who should be summoning you?” Cregan snarled, his icy gaze spearing through all the men gathered before him as he stalked to the head of the long council table.

“Well… it is the business of your lady wife, my Lord… and the incident that has recently taken place,” Lord Cerwyn spoke timidly. Looking to the empty seat where Lord Bolton used to reside.

“What business? What opinion do you, of all people, have to offer?” Cregan snapped towards the lord.

“It is just that… we fear she is a risk to you, my Lord,” Lord Cerwyn continued to explain.

“Do you think she would harm me? Mine own lady wife? Do you truly believe she would attack me, or anyone else for that matter, unprovoked?” Cregan scoffed, taken aback by this ridiculous notion.

“It is a possibility, my Lord,” Lord Cerwyn muttered quietly in response.

“Do you know what it is like to feel helpless, Lord Cerwyn? How it feels to know you will never be able to give your wife what she needs. I have sworn to protect mine and even I could not do that. What if Lady Cerwyn had suffered the same situation as my lady wife? What would you do then? Lady Stark was assaulted, and if she hadn’t acted when she did, her and I would both be dead. You would do well to remember that,” Cregan growled at Lord Cerwyn.

“Apologies, my Lord. It is only that we worry for your safety, as I stated previously. As well as the safety of those on your court and in the public, my Lord. If the question of safety is at stake should we not consider other options?” The vassal Lord responded, surprised when the acceptance of his ideas came from the Warden of the North.

“And what would those be?” Cregan asked, his tone as sharp as the blade of his sword, poised to strike at any moment. He was completely opposed to any ideas this nuisance of a man gave him, however he would entertain any chance he could to defend his beloved. Wanting to eradicate any idea of doubt they had towards her and her sanity.

“Perhaps the Lady Stark may take some time away from Winterfell? Or rather… be solely kept within the walls of the castle? Just until she is well enough of course,” Lord Cerwyn suggested, hesitating with anxiety as he saw Cregan practically boil over in rage from across the table. The other lords grimaced, knowing the on-slot that was about to ensue.

“Are you out of your damn mind to even suggest such a thing? She is your Lady of Winterfell, and just because she has more courage than the whole lot of you, doesn’t mean she should be feared. She should be revered!” Cregan reviled the men before him as they all refused to look at their Liege Lord as he shouted about their lack of respect for his lady wife. Specifically looking at Lord Cerwyn while doing so.

“I am repulsed by you and the thought that you could ever come to me and suggest such a thing about my wife,” Cregan seethed, rounding the corner of the table to meet Lord Cerwyn at his seat. The vassal Lord stood up slowly as Cregan towered over him, staring daggers into the man’s soul.

“Get the fuck out of my castle,” Cregan sneered with venom laced into his words, looking to the rest of the men around the table.

“GET OUT! ALL OF YOU!” He roared, stepping away from the table and motioning for a guard to begin the escort of the Lord Bannerman from The Keep.

————————————————————————

When Cregan had gained his composure, he went around the Keep attending to his evening duties as he always did. As he made his way to his marital bedchamber he was struck with confusion at seeing his wife’s handmaiden standing outside the door.

“Ayla, what are you doing out here?” Cregan asked, concern painting his face, but nodding politely when she bowed slightly to him.

“I’m so sorry, m’lord. I have tried to get her to open the door, but she refuses. I did not know what to do with my Lady’s nightgown… so I’ve just been waitin’ for you to arrive, m’lord,” the young woman said as she kept her head down, taking a slight glance up at him but feeling intimidated she chose to look away once again.

“Thank you, Ayla. That was very kind of you to wait. But may I ask, how long have you been here exactly?” Cregan inquired, worried about the condition of his love and how long she’d been like this.

“I couldn’ say, m’lord. But if I had to venture a guess, possibly an hour, m’lord,” Ayla spoke again, still avoiding his now deeply concerned expression.

“I can take this on from here, Ayla. My thanks, again,” He spoke, trying to keep his tone more professional as he took the clothing from the handmaidens arms and watched as she walked out of sight before trying the door.

He called her name, announcing his presence, but heard nothing.

“My love, please come to the door, I do wish to sleep in our bed in the near future if you so permit it,” he said loudly, trying to keep a lighter tone and not give off the impression of any sort of anger. When met with silence again, Cregan feels a trickle of dread slip down his spine not knowing if she was okay or if something had happened. He began to rap on the door, his knock growing louder and more desperate, along with his pleas to her.

“My darling, I must see that you are alright, plea-,” Cregan begins to beg but is silenced by the sound of the lock coming undone from the other side of the large doors. Without hesitation he enters the room and looks around for a moment before his heart falls from his chest and onto the floor at the sight of his wife in such distress. She is already in a nightdress, but it is wrinkled and in disarray upon her frame. Clearly in a state of panic he could see she was covered in a thin veil of sweat that caused her hair to stick to her skin, as the rest stood at odd angles or was mussed in some way. When she looked up at him from her seat on the floor in front of their hearth, it was evident that fear had her in its midst and was racking through her mind, her eyes as wide as saucers. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her breath seemed to be lost on her. Cregan went to his wife in an instant and knelt on the furs next to her as he gathered her in his arms. Stroking her hair in comfort and placing soft kisses to her temple, Cregan tries to calm his wife, but in her anxiety-ridden state she was unable to resist the waves of terror washing over her. It was clear in the way she couldn’t catch her breath, and how her body would tense and relax repeatedly.

“Okay, okay. Shhh it’s okay - that’s it. Breathe, my darling, just breathe,” Cregan spoke softly into his beloveds hair, rocking her back and forth as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“My darling girl, what has caused this pain?” Cregan questioned, his tone laden with concern. She had to take several more deep breaths before she was able to finally respond coherently.

“I am no longer worthy enough to uphold your family’s house values,” she whispered, not meeting his gaze as he had tried to get her to look at him.

“No, my girl. How did you ever reach that conclusion?” Cregan’s heart breaking at the thought that she believed herself not good enough for anything.

“The men on your court, they wish to see me kept away, I heard it with mine own ears. I have put a stain on your house with my actions. I hear what they whisper about in the corridors, and in your court, calling me the 'the Mad Lady Stark'. I am anything but honor or duty, I killed a man that was the lord of one of your vassal houses. I don't want to be feared, Cregan. I dislike it very much... I am starting to fear myself," she finally explained, “…they said I should be locked away,” she whispered again, her voice cracking and her chin trembling.

“They would have to slay me first before anyone else took you from me. Honor be damned if it means having you by my side, no matter what anyone may say,” Cregan responded, his palms cradling her jaw, softly pushing her head up so he could look her in the eye. The statement rolling off his tongue so easily he didn’t even realize what the implication of that sentence was; he would throw away honor and dignity for her every time.

“I seek no kind of absolution from anything other than that of what lies within your soul and the God who crafted it. In your absence, my life would be without purpose. Fore if I am not permitted to love you and keep you, my days would be spent living half a life,” he proclaimed, tears gathering on his lash line. She too was weeping, her eyes distant as if she were not seeing him in front of her.

“Do you hear me?” He asked, his gaze desperate as he searched her eyes for understanding.

“You are safe, no one will take you from me,” he concluded as she finally focused back onto him and slightly nodded her head.

“Okay,” she relented, not wanting to take his words for truth even though she knew they were, it was the distrust she had within herself that was stopping her from believing. It was hard to hold his gaze, knowing he could read the thoughts dancing through her eyes like seeing something through a clear window. She couldn’t hide from him if she tried.

He could feel the uneasiness still residing within her, so he brought her hands in his and pressed kisses to her knuckles. Slowly taking each fingertip to his soft lips and laying feather-light kisses along them as well, then moving to the inside of each of her palms to do the same. As he moved lower and pressed his lips tenderly to the inside of her wrists, he saw her resolve begin to dissipate. Her insecurity dissolving at the touch of his lips to her skin.

“These hands protect you, they know how to wield a sword better than most of my men. They comfort me when I am in need, they will hold and comfort our future children. I am so in love with these hands; do not fear what they can do, because if it wasn’t for you we would both be deep in the frozen ground by now,” Cregan explained in a soft but sincere tone, continuing to place soft kisses to her knuckles and wrists.

“Cregan…” she sniffled, a small smile coming to her lips as he continued to travel his lips further up her arm, and then slowly moving upwards he pulled her nightdress from her shoulder to reveal her collarbone. The three large scars that ran along the soft skin were close to being fully healed, as much as they could be. Cregan leaned down and placed the tenderest of kisses upon them. He cradled her waist as he pulled her into him, her thighs wrapped themselves around his middle as he stood slowly from the ground, bringing her with him. Moving to the bed, he set her down on the pelts gently, shifting her up the bed as he crawled over her, his eyes searching hers for something.

“It is never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable by my advances. But if you would permit me, may I show you how in love and committed to you I truly am?” Cregan asked in a whisper, still keeping himself propped up above her. A soft smile spread over her face, her cheeks heating up at the notion of such adoration.

“If you do not wish it then it shall not be done,” he reassured, his eyes still searching hers for any type of doubt or hesitation.

“Cregan… prove to me what I cannot prove to myself in this moment,” she responded softly. With the permission granted, he smiled as he laid a heavy kiss onto her lips. Then as he had done moments before, he pushed the sleeve of her nightdress down her shoulder to reveal her scars to him. He continued to kiss over the marred skin, trekking lightly up the slope of her neck until he reached just below the shell of her ear.

“These scars are proof of extraordinary resilience; proof of your undeniable courage, something I have always admired about your spirit,” Cregan spoke softly as he placed a kiss to her temple. “… and this… this stalwart, brilliant, stunningly cunning, and expertly charming brain of yours… you are a marvel to me… all of you,” Cregan continued to speak as he placed more kisses along her temple and under her jaw as she sighed and smiled. He began to move down further, kissing her unmarked collarbone and traveling south. However the hem of her neckline proved a worthy adversary to Cregan’s wishes to desire his wife. His hand travels from its place beside her body to slip under her nightdress and waltz up her thigh as the fabric went with it. He couldn’t help himself from running his fingers over the expanse of her thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake. The light caresses of her husband would always make her weak. She felt his hands grip her hips and carefully move her small clothes down her legs, a shaky breath escaping her as he does so.

“These hips… these hips will cradle your womb as you carry our child, they are strong and will birth the bravest of warriors,” Cregan spoke against her skin as he exposed it to himself. Having removed the dress fully from her body his lips began to paint tapestries across the skin of her lower stomach. His hands wandered, feeling every inch of skin he could reach, whispering his praises to every piece of her he touched. The noises that emitted from her were the sweetest melody Cregan had ever heard, the soft sighs and gasps of built up anticipation.

He loved it all.

Placing both of his hands at the back of her thighs he slowly coaxed them to rise as he shifted lower and placed his head upon her inner thigh, turning to meet his lips to the supple skin. He became drunk on the whimpers that fell so gracefully upon his ears as he teased the inner most part of her thighs with hot breaths and light caresses of his fingertips. Until finally he met his lips with what he considered the gates of the only heaven that truly mattered. In his hazed state he let his tongue wander through the petals of her cunt, like sifting through the petals of a freshly picked rose. He fell more intoxicated at her scent and taste as it poured over his senses, his grip on her thighs becoming stronger as his fingertips dug in. With a gentle force he moved her legs farther apart to be fully flat on his stomach, making the perfect angle for him to -

“OH CREGAN!” She gasped and cried out as she felt his tongue part her center and delve into her like a craved man. Her fingers carded through his locks and roughly tugged at the base of them, causing a moan to escape Cregan’s throat. As he continued unraveling her from the inside out, he loosened his grip on her thighs and began running his hands along the expanse of her skin. He got lost in the feeling of how soft and warm she felt against his fingers tips. He wondered how a human could possess such a physical sense of grace, as his skin had been marred by combat and in training, it was foreign to him to feel such a thing. As one of his hands began caressing her breast, running the rough pad of his thumb over her peaked nipple he enjoyed the sounds the small motion elicited from her. Beginning to get engulfed in desire, Cregan could not resist as his hips drove themselves against the mattress as he tried to get friction on his aching cock. The motion and resulting friction caused a small whimper to escape him, his cheeks burning at such a sound coming from him, but he couldn’t help it. It was all just too damn good. Retracting from her slightly he looked up to her, and was met with her gaze in return, their eyes communicating what their lips didn't have to.

They couldn't wait anymore.

His fingers never left her as he sat up and began undoing his trousers with his other hand, holding her soft gaze the entire time. She looked like an angel splayed before him, having fallen from the heavens and landed directly in their bedchambers. Throwing the garment to the side, he slid his fingers from her and brought them to his lips with a groan.

"You are the sweetest thing in all of the Seven Kingdoms my love," Cregan whispered to her as he climbed atop her. Feeling as her own hands roamed his broad shoulders and a moan escaped her as he tucked his head into her neck and began leaving soft trails of kisses down to her collar bones.

"Are you ready, my lady," Cregan asked softly, not wanting to move forward any further without her specific consent.

"Yes, my love," She whispered into his ear, a small smile gracing her beautiful lips. Taking hold of the back of her thighs, he hoists them around his waist and lines himself up with her entrance before slowly beginning to push in. The groans and gasps shared between them left them both feeling breathless. Positioning himself on his elbows to support himself, he cradled her head in one large palm as the other twisted itself into her hair. He began to move slowly, falling into the velvety bliss that was his wife. Moans and gasps danced from her parted lips as her husband gently led her down the road of pleasure, softly touching and kissing her. She adored the softness with which he caressed her, the way he held the back of her head like it was fragile. But she hadn't felt this intimacy with him in weeks, and she needed it a little harder and faster than what he was providing currently.

"My love," she gasped, her breathing staggered as he hit a spot within her that brought her the utmost pleasure, "my darling, fuck me," she demanded through gritted teeth, and he did not need to be told a second time. Bringing himself off of her, he balanced on his outstretched arms as he moved upwards, bringing her hips with him. This new angle provided her with the intensity she was looking for. Allowing him to meet his hips with her own in a powerful way, without crushing her with his enormous form.

One of his hands was softly caressing her face, cradling her jaw in his large palm. The action so opposing of the passionate and intense motion of his hips against hers, driving forward with a force as he got lost in her ether. The bed creaked and shook with the physicality of it all. The sound of skin meeting skin accompanied that of the complaints from the wooden frame of the bed and the sounds of pleasure ricocheted off the stone walls of their chamber; it was a sinful symphony. Feeling the burning knot of pleasure beginning to slip from his control, whimpers and grunts of desperation began to fall from his lips.

“My love - my light, I need you to look at me,” Cregan begged, his voice strained and thick with desire. Her eyes had been sown shut with the pleasure he brought her and her jaw had fallen slack, so lost in Cregan and the feeling of him that was surrounding her. It was an effort to look into his eyes as his thrusts became more erratic and she felt him hit that spot with a strength that took the breath from her lungs. It was impossible for him to come undone without looking into her eyes. She was the sun, blinding in her beauty to see with a naked eye yet captivating nonetheless, and he couldn’t look away.

He saw her struggling to focus and keep her eyes from fluttering shut as strangled moans came from deep within her. She was the most stunning vision to behold with her head thrown back and her hair splayed around her like a halo. The sweat-slick skin of her neck and chest as beautiful as fresh dew shining in the sunlight in the early hours of the morn. But he had to see her, look into her eyes as they took each other over the edge. He called her name gently, pleas quietly spilling from his mouth until moments later she was able to make eye contact with him.

The groan that came from him was desperate and loud as she finally answered his prayers.

“There’s my pretty girl,” Cregan grunted, all he heard in return was the rough panting and delicate groans of his wife as she felt nothing else but him. So consumed by him and his body she felt as if she might burst. Moving one of his hands down her torso as he ventured towards the space between them, wanting so badly to hear those gorgeous moans that fall from her mouth every time he touches her there. They both hung on a precipice, each thrust threatening to push them over the edge into oblivion. As he thrust several more times, the creaking of the bed was echoing off the stone walls of their chamber, the sound joining that of her whimpers and gasps of his name. Starting to thrust with a more erratic nature and needing more leverage, he pulled his hand away from the haven between her thighs and took ahold of hers, placing it atop the headboard to join the other, having took hold of it for balance.

In this position Cregan had never looked more strikingly handsome, his head hung between his outstretched arms above her, the dark locks of his hair falling around his face. He looked as if he was sculpted from marble, a statue of his grandeur created just for her. She heard quiet whimpers begin to fall from his mouth and she knew he was holding back with everything he had, but he didn’t need to.

“Come with me, my love,” she whispered to him between pants, their breaths mingling within one another, eyes never breaking each others gaze. The most divine groan fell from his plush lips, his face contorting in pleasure and then going slack as she felt his hips driving harder. As she felt the knot of pleasure begin to unravel in her lower stomach, she cried out his name in ecstasy and arched into him. The hand that was entangled in his gripped the headboard hard as she pulled herself up into him. Dropping his other arm to the mattress, he reached around her waist and anchored himself to her. With a final broken moan he felt himself cum as his hips met hers and he buried himself as deep as he could within her. They were still for a moment as they both began to come down, but suddenly Cregan began to move again. Dragging out his strokes and angling his hips so he could hit the one spot within her that he knew would result in another orgasm for her.

It was an intense and angelic experience for them both. As she felt him move slightly, squeezing her hip and holding her to him as he continued to rock into her. Cregan could feel the flutter of her walls as her peak never seemed to fade away, he was pulling the utmost pleasure from her and she never wanted it to stop. She clung to him with her available arm, running her hand through his hair and gripping the roots.

“Fuck, darling. You feel so divine.” Cregan spoke into her ear, his tone strewn with gravel as he too began to feel his ascension into the heavens once more. He ducked his head into the valley of her neck as he placed hot, needy kisses along the column of her throat. Her response was nothing more than mumbling and moaning, the love and lust clouding her mind to anything other than what he was giving her.

“I know baby, I know,” Cregan whispered and although he too was beginning to get lost in overstimulation, one of the only things he knew in that moment was he needed to feel her release one more time.

Cregan pulled back in that moment and released his hold on her waist as he then gently led her back onto the mattress. Having also released her hand that had been intertwined in his own on the headboard, he could feel both of them now moving over his skin and her nails slowly digging trails down his back.

He groaned at the sensation and as he went to shift his weight off the headboard, a sharp CRACK could be heard echoing off the walls, and suddenly Cregan’s weight dropped onto her. He caught himself, for the most part, but the sudden change had caused their lustful trance to be interrupted.

“My love, are you alright?” Cregan immediately turned his attention to his wife who was staring up at him in shock. With Cregan still sheathed inside her she was having a hard time comprehending what had just happened as she fought to focus herself.

“Yes, yes I’m okay,” she said to him as he brought a hand up to cradle her head, his thumb traces a dip from her cheek to her temple, a gesture of reassurance.

“Did we just break the headboard?” She inquired after a brief pause between them, an amused smile forming on her face and soon after an eruption of giggles poured out of her. Cregan looked surprised at the outburst at first but soon was chuckling at the circumstances right along side her. Slowly maneuvering off of her and to her side, they continue to share loving glances and can’t help the laughing that results.

“I think you know the answer to your question,” Cregan finally responded. Pulling her into his chest, their breathing slowing as they felt the exhaustion from the day wash over each of them.

“Do you know how in love with you I am? Do you understand now? Because I will spend every waking second I have left in this world trying to prove it to you,” Cregan whispered into her hair as he comforted her with soft touches and the warm embrace of his strong arms.

"I do know," she reassured him. She hummed in contentment as she felt his large palm move down to her lower stomach, encompassing the area above her womb.

"I do hope that took, I cannot wait any longer to see you round with my child," he says softly to her, adoration in his eyes as they looked down to where his hand is resting.

"Can you promise me something, Cregan?" she asked, looking to him intently but with a meaning behind her eyes.

"Anything, my sunlight," he responded.

"If we have a daughter, I want her to never feel as though she is not a son. She deserves to live in a world where she is not seen for her body but for her soul, and one where she isn't treated differently because of the gender she was born into. She should not have to feel like she needs to be anything other than herself, and we should provide that for her," she said, Cregan propped himself up on his arms and took his wife's face into his hands.

"We will provide that for her, I promise," he said, kissing her forehead and then gently placing a kiss to her lips.

"We will do better than our forefathers, and she shall know how special she is just for being who she wants to be," he reaffirmed, a smile gracing both of their lips as the promise of a better future was solidified between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#house of the dragon #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #hotd cregan #house of the dragon fanfic #cregan stark x f!reader #cregan stark smut #cregan stark angst #hotd fanfiction

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ambrosialdesire · 1 month ago

Text

bloodsports

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: modern au!reiner x fem!reader word count: 13.6k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, misogyny, public humiliation mentions, sorta an unbalanced power dynamic, a/b/o dynamics and themes, modern & college/university au, alpha & hockey player jock reiner (will be sorta ooc but ig you can count it as his s1-3 soldier persona), omega reader, enemies to sorta friends to enemies again to lovers (but both reiner and reader are stubborn dumdums and it's sorta one-sided), bertolt x reader implications, heavy jealousy/possessive themes, heavy self-sabotage, alcohol consumption, violence & blood warning, "fated" mates, usage of suppressants, unwarranted scenting, kinda scenting kink?, pheromone-bombing, size difference, size kink, noncon kissing, all characters are 18+ synopsis: trying to get through uni should've been easy, but presenting as an omega made you become a seemingly easy target for the many disgusting alphas that roamed the campus. no matter how much suppressants you took, you unfortunately just had to grab the attention of the most notorious one out there. the university's famed center in ice hockey, reiner braun. to you, he was nothing but a godforsaken, meatheaded annoyance. a/n: i am not one of god's strongest when comes to a/b/o or the omegaverse LMFAOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY IT, SUMN ABOUT IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY FERAL AND IDC WHAT OTHERS THINK 👺👺 anywaysss, yea it's another hatefuck reiner fic that i decided recently to make a two parter LOL i made reiner a hockey player because i kinda like hockey more (i watched one game irl with my sibling and it was hella cool even tho the team we were cheering for lost 💀 the state pride was crazy, i had no idea how irritating it was hearing the other team fans cheer 😭) but i'm really really new to the sport so forgive me if i make some mistakes about it lol (i did modify it a little so it can be more dramatic and violent lol) happy valentine's day (ik this late AFFFFF LMFAO) and hope you guys enjoy this! the second part will hopefully come not too far behind, maybe in december once i'm freed from school haha note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

"You're coming to my game, right?"

The sudden weight on the table of someone leaning upon it on the other side caused it to creak, but you didn't have to look up to know who it was. The wafting smell of warm, spiced vanilla with vague, yet noticeable earthy tones wrapped around you like a familiar heated blanket. No matter how nice it smelled, it only bubbled irritation within you. You continued writing your notes, ignoring the looming presence.

"Omega, answer and look at me." A chill ran down your spine and your head felt heavy once he spoke, the demand stern and clear. You didn't want to answer him, but your secondary gender was scratching at your brain like a persistent fly. Answer him, answer your alpha.

You stubbornly pinched your leg once to get yourself out of it before finally looking up at the man himself, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Can't. Have finals tomorrow. Also, don't ever do that shit to me or call me that."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, already knowing he wasn't going to take that as an answer. "You weren't answering me and c'mon, it's only for a few hours babe. Who wouldn't come to their alpha's big game today?"

"Me because you're not my alpha and I'm not your babe. Go find some other omega that drools over you because this one isn't going." You grumbled as you stood up, beginning to collect your stuff to get back to your dorm. He grabbed your wrist before you got your notebook, pulling you towards him, eyes were gleaming with determination.

"Come to my game and I won't bother you anymore. I promise."

You pulled your arm out of his grasp with a frown, quickly debating in your mind. Could you trust him?

On one hand, it would be nice to not get disturbed by him anymore. But on the other, that means you have to be packed in a stadium with sweaty alphas and a handful of excitable betas and omegas for an hour or two. The smell would be awful and overwhelming, false ruts and heats would get triggered easily from the adrenaline. You didn't even like ice hockey or any sport in general, too many alphas dominated the industry.

You bit back a heavy sigh, finally deciding on your answer.

"Ugh. I'm holding you to that promise then Reiner. No randomly showing up at my dorm, no waiting for me at the end of my classes, don't have your friends try and check up on me for your behalf either. Got it?" His hazel eyes lit up immediately and he nodded, his smile wide.

"You got it babe, I'll pick you up at 6."

You were about to tell him off about the pet name but he ran off, whooping in the quiet library while slamming the doors open. A few of the students' and staffs' glares went over to you, causing you to grimace before finally picking up your notebook. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

Life wasn't like this before. For a year and half, you've had an alpha cling onto your every move as if you've claimed one another. It may seem like that to him but you definitely didn't want anything to do with him. All Reiner did was bring a mix of trouble to you, a burden that you never wanted. Your secondary gender was supposed to be a hidden secret for only yourself to know — the prescribed supplements made sure of that — and you were supposed to present as a beta in order to live a peaceful university life. How painfully frustrating it was to be found out from a simple error in your day-to-day routine.

You were in a rush, you're human after all, and forgot to take them before you left your dorm. It wasn't until you entered your class when a brick of strong smells bitterly hit your nose, something that never happened before. One day and that's all it took for everyone's eyes to latch onto your frame, the horrifying hunger glimmering in the darks of their pupils.

You froze, unable to move from the doorway. The vileness of their stench rang alarms in your head, they were all sour and distasteful with every short whiff you took. It was overwhelming, heavy, and nauseating. You knew what they were all thinking, internally debating whether you should run back to your dorm or transfer.

A large arm had made its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to their body. You panicked at first until a whiff of something sweet in the air stopped you. A spiced vanilla enveloped your senses with every breath you took and like a switch, your body immediately calmed down, unintentionally leaning closer to them to continue feeling this sweet relief.

"Hey." You tilted your head up at the person who was currently holding you by the neck and felt dread quickly fill up your stomach once more.

Reiner Braun, one of the most notorious womanizers on campus and the university's proclaimed players in ice hockey.

Reiner Braun, smelling like a freshly baked pastry, slinging his arm around you while unintentionally managing to bring you back to your senses.

Reiner Braun, whose face is suddenly way too close and you could just barely feel the brush of his lips against yours.

Your face burned up at the realization and you shoved him off you, eyes wide and mouth parted open in shock as you watched him stumble back to reality. What the fuck just happened and why the fuck did he smell so good out of everyone here? He looked like he was appalled by what he did as well but recovered faster than you did, a sly smirk growing on his face.

"Hey omega, just a head's up. The next time you come to class, don't smell like a sweet treat for us alphas alright?"

You thought you couldn't burn up even more than before, your body beginning to tremble in complete rage and mortification as the students began to howl in amusement. All of your emotions were pumping through your system all at once way too quickly and you finally ran out of the class, tears brimming on the edges of your eyes. There was no way you could handle being in there for another second. The boisterous laughter faded away in your eardrums and once you got far enough from prying eyes and ears, you collapsed to the ground and nearly sobbed your heart out.

You knew attending this university would be difficult but never in your life did you think you'd be humiliated in this way, just for one stupid little mistake. To alphas, any mistake that wasn't from their pretentious clique meant your life, your downfall, everything. It becomes a weakness to exploit and use, like a deer with a broken leg completely surrounded by a pack of starving wolves.

All you could think about over and over as you finally made it to your dorm was:

Fuck Reiner Braun.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

After that day, you made sure to take your supplements on time with an alarm. Regardless of that, you still felt skittish once you stepped foot in that damn class again. Not because of the possibility that the knowing glances of your classmates would come your way, but the fact that Reiner would not leave you alone ever since he embarrassed you.

When you finally went back to that class in the next lecture, you placed yourself all the way in the back corner than your usual spot, trying to hide yourself away until everyone forgot about the incident. It seemed that your humiliating moment had faded away quickly like a passing breeze since no one looked your way as the seats began to fill up one by one. It was not until you heard the familiar laugh of him, only then you started getting nervous.

You stared down in your notebook, trying to look as busy as possible but the shuffle of a heavy bag and a body sitting down next to you in the loudest way possible confirmed your worst suspicions.

"Good thing you saved a seat for me, that’s so nice of you omega." Reiner congratulated you in a false manner and you grimaced, turning your head towards him. He wasn't looking at you but he was smiling as he looked to the front of the room. You had to force yourself not to stare at his body, which was a mental battle in itself when his pheromones were as strong as ever.

He most likely exercised before coming here, a faint sweat stain on the chest of his white cut-off tank top confirming your thoughts. The tank top was hiding little to the imagination, loose enough to where you can see his sculpted muscles from the side but tight enough to where it accentuated his chest. He was manspreading — a common occurrence in those who were considered to be extremely prideful alphas — and wearing dark gray sweatpants.

You didn't mean to but your gaze slightly wandered a little more down, heart nearly stopped in your chest when you just barely spotted the faint outline of his half-hard cock against the fabric. He was... big and if that was him barely aroused, wow. You'd pray for those that let this son-of-a-bitch hit another time.

The usually dormant annoyance in your brain wanted to get down on her knees and suck him off till he got hard in her mouth, but you had to viciously fight her back into the deep crevices of your mind. You don't know why the urge was so strong, the meds you took usually gave you no sexual desires towards anyone. Maybe you need to up the dosage? You'd have to make a doctor's appointment soon because you don't know if you could stand this new disgusting pervert inside you.

It would be the coldest day in Hell if you ever let Reiner fuck you.

"I have a name, use it or fuck off." You turned back to your notebook and he chuckled in amusement.

"You got a bite now omega? Where was she the last time we spoke?"

"Maybe she would've been there if she wasn't on the verge of a breakdown. Fucking asshole." You muttered the last bit, starting to ignore him once the professor finally entered the class. Cracking your knuckles and opening your laptop to the latest powerpoint, you began writing down the important points of what was in the week's module. It took you nearly half of the three hour long lecture to notice that he didn't make any sound, no writing or keyboard clacking or any tapping from his phone. Your peripherals just barely caught the sight of him and your skin ran cold.

Reiner wasn't paying attention to the lecture. You started to practically feel the absolute intensity of his stare, burning two deep holes into the side of your face. The chair lightly squeaked as he suddenly moved closer to you, the audible sound of him sniffing at you came after.

What the fuck was his problem? You quickly inched yourself away from him, backing into the wall but he followed suit almost immediately. His large frame nearly engulfed yours, the sheer heat of his body radiating off as he neared you.

He sniffed once above your head, then again and again as if he was searching for something. Thank God you decided to shower this morning. The tense atmosphere between the two of you grew thicker with each passing second until his hazel eyes narrowed, the corner of his mouth twitched in faint irritation.

"...You don't smell like anything." Reiner sourly muttered before pulling away, giving back the needed space.

"Uh... yeah? I got back on track with my meds." What was up with him? Reiner had never once spoken to you before the incident, in the class and out of it. In this class in particular, you've usually seen him on his phone, napping, or quietly chatting with the nearest poor soul.

He's known to not fool around with your kind, back when you were still portraying yourself as a beta. Why would he? To them, betas were boring and basic. They weren't alpha enough to be considered to be one of them and not omega enough to fuck. His preferences were pretty out there in whispers and giggles too, so it's not like he would need a reason to talk to you unless it was to get his dick wet for the night. That seemed to be the plan in mind since he was continuously interacting with you.

"Why would you?" Reiner nonchalantly questioned, as if he wasn't the one of the reasons why you take such heavy supplements. Your eye twitched, your fingers tightening around your pen.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" You scowled, watching him shrug and lean back onto the chair.

"Yeah, why not? You're the first omega I've met with a scent that's not doused in cheaply made perfume, it's..." He stopped, thinking of the right words before finally settling on one. "Original."

You scrunched your nose, conflicted with what he just described. He is the talk of the campus, most if not all omegas would've loved to be marked by him; no wonder they try to court him with different concoctions. Then again, he could just be saying that to get into your pants. Original, ha! If he liked this so-called originality, he should find it in someone else.

"I'm not interested y'know, not after what you did last time."

After you said that, all the words seemed to die in his mouth. He became quiet for the rest of the lecture and you didn't have the courage to look back up to see his expression. The silence was a simmering awkwardness, and you could only try and listen to the professor as much as you could. His smell was now twisted with a dullness to it, almost bland and distasteful like the rest of the room. When the lesson finally ended, you started to zip your bag close and pull it through your arms, until his hand grabbed the strap and lifted it up onto his own shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Panic bubbled in your chest as you tried to grab it back but he kept maneuvering out of your reach, a playful smile growing on his lips.

"Think of this as an apology to you omega. I'll walk you to your next class." Your heart dropped to your stomach, the last thing you needed was even more people staring at you, especially with the campus fuckboy in tow.

"You really don't have to and don't call me that." Reiner snorted as he walked down the stairs, you having no choice but to follow him.

"What else can I call you if you haven't told me your name yet?" He held the door open for you, readjusting the bags he was holding. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"Why offer to walk me to my next class when I don't even know your name?" It was a lie, of course everyone knew him just by the simple utter of his name, but he laughed at your simple comeback, genuinely laughed. It didn't sound like it did when he poked fun of you that one day, your face starting to lightly flush warm.

"Fair enough. Name's Reiner, Reiner Braun. One of the University of Marley Warriors centers." You slightly cringed at the title, he just had to add that fact in. Oh well, might as well play along just a little.

"Y/N L/N, one of the many second year students in the University of Marley."

He laughed once more and nudged you on the back with his elbow, letting you take the lead.

"You're a funny girl Y/N."

You had to ignore the way your stomach fluttered from the way he said it, picking up your pace. Remember, you had to remember that he caused you a turmoil of anguish for a near week. All you were going to give him was this moment and that's it.

"Thanks."

Now that you think back on it, how silly it was for you to think that this was the last time he was ever going to talk to you.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

There wasn't a minute in your day where Reiner wasn't in your presence.

Nearly every day for roughly five or six months since you've started talking to one another, he'd manage to find you and socialize. He'd give you a small snack or drink too, ruffling your hair once you took it from his hand and sitting down in the seat next to you. Every day was a different topic that he asked, ranging from simple questions to a little more personal ones. You knew he was trying to pry whenever you didn’t say much about yourself so you've revealed only a few tidbits, nothing big. Sometimes he needed studying help and you didn't mind tutoring him about the subjects you were sorta knowledgeable in. He always seemed so interested and focused in whatever you say, so hey, at least he was a decent listener.

He started rejecting hang-outs with his friends and teammates, all to simply talk to you. It's crazy how often he did it, a few times occurring in front of you through phone calls. He'd only mentioned his teammates when he tried to invite you to numerous practices, implying that he wanted them to meet you. You turned him down about it for the first few times, creating excuses to not go, until you got tired of him asking and finally begrudgingly agreed.

Watching him practice made you realize one thing about him: Reiner loved to play dirty.

Of course since you were merely a new bystander of the sport, it might've been one of the core strategies of how to win in hockey. Yet the more you observed, the more you noticed how he treated everyone on the ice, friend or foe. He told you before that centers did a lot for their team and were known to be more on the offense, even when defending. You thought the role was perfect for him, considering how he started this whole "friendship" thing with you. However, the way he treated you was nothing compared to how he treated the sport.

It was like watching an illegal cage fight from the way he quickly sped towards the puck, viciously slamming into others to make way. A frightening sight indeed, maybe even more for the ones on the ice as they were the ones he barreled his shoulders into their chests and sides. You can't remember how many times you flinched watching an unfortunate player get rammed into the plastic barrier by Reiner, the heavy sound echoing throughout the stadium. Everyone on the opposing team was merely his punching bag and though they can get a few hits in, you could tell that they couldn't handle the constant confrontations. He didn't care that they were still his teammates and that this was merely a practice game. To lose is to lose and for an alpha, that could never be an option.

You never told him this, but you never liked the look in his eyes that he gets whenever he played, the darks of his pupils blowing out the once-warm hazel color with a carnal and exhilarated intensity within them.

Regardless of his violent attitude, Reiner genuinely worked well with his team, whomever was on his side at least. He especially got along with whoever jersey number 60 is — the only hint being that his last name is Hoover — and who was noticeably taller than anyone else on the team. The two were extremely compatible, making the smoothest passes that whenever you blinked, it would seem that the other had the puck in the first place.

The strangest part of it all was that he'd make you wear his jersey afterwards, that's also somewhat the reason why you stopped coming over to his practices besides the extreme harshness of the sport. It was way too intimate for him to be sharing a highly scented object to a friend but you've tried refusing, saying that you hated the stink and it was still wet with sweat. Reiner never really cared about what you said about it and pulled it over your head, the fabric hanging loosely mid-thigh. You hated how calm it made you feel and how every time he asked for it back, you'd hesitate.

Even if he did like you, you don't know why he was being overly friendly. Was it because you were an omega that he had to be nice to you? You tried not to think about it like that since you were slowly getting used to his presence, as if he became a part of your routine.

He never pushed anything sexual onto you either like you originally thought he was going to. Sure, he'd make a weird comment or joke here or there but it never really made you uncomfortable or escalated into something else. Your feelings towards him simmered down to a level of neutrality, not quite at peace from what he did but not as angry as before. Did he feel bad for his actions? He never really said an actual apology to you, but is that really why you still find him aggravating to be around with?

"You're such a study bug, don't you know how to have a little fun?" Reiner skimmed his fingers against the already-read pages, your bodies squished side-by-side, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as the two of you read your textbook together. You don't know why or when but you started to not mind the physical contact with him anymore; you chalked it up to it being the winter months and you were cold as hell, he was basically the closest thing to a portable heater. Your physician upped the dosage of your meds as well and there was a noticeable difference, but it didn't seem to deter the thoughts you were having about Reiner. They probably would’ve faded away if not for his constant presence.

"I don't have time for fun, unlike you with your full-ride and sports." You muttered as you flipped the page, eyes skimming over the new paragraphs. He groaned and rested his head on top of yours, taking in a deep breath. You’ve noticed that he was more touchier with you compared to his other friends that you once watched from afar before, but you’ve gotten used to it for the past few months.

He was silent for a few pages until you could feel his fingers trail up against your scent gland, your body immediately freezing up. He shouldn’t be touching you there, a shiver going up your spine as you felt his fingertips rub light circles around it. You couldn’t stop him, not when your brain was currently being scrambled with the feeling.

"Your smell is still not there." He off-handily murmured, finally removing his hand from your neck and letting you collect your thoughts again.

You swallowed thickly, trying to clear your throat. "I think you forget that I take heavy suppressants."

"Why do you? Do you really not want to fuck anyone any time soon?" You cringed at his wording, meeting his eyes.

"Well yeah, pretty much. I want to focus on school, not constantly wonder if I'm going to suddenly go into heat around an alpha. And it's a guaranteed protection, I don't want to get accidentally marked this early in my life." You could feel his hand squeeze and knead at the meat of your hip, knowing that he was in thought.

"I don't know if our class remembers what sub-gender I am but you certainly do, you were literally in trance when you met me," You pointed out, feeling your skin prickle warm as you thought back on the memory. "And it was my mistake, I didn't mean to get off of them and do that to you. I'm pretty much protecting myself and others from doing something... irrational."

What he didn't know is that having no heat at all for months at a time had made you indescribably horny, but you've been managing it so well that you really didn't need any outside assistance at all. Him being the only alpha that hangs around you on a day-to-day basis and consistently touching you has not made the thoughts any better than they were before, but you forced those damn heinous ideas in the back of your mind every time. Bothersome they were and you tried to not let it get to you as much as possible.

Reiner nodded slowly, closing his eyes. "Well if you do get into a heat, I'm available for use."

You gasped, quickly jabbing your elbow into his side, causing him to flinch from the feeling and laugh almost aloud in the quiet library. "God, don't say that here!"

"It's true! There's a line-up of omegas that need help through their heats, I'm not the only one that's getting something out of it. They need a knot and I give it to them." You don't know why but hearing him admit that made you almost freeze and feel your stomach drop. Every time you're reminded of his reputation, something in you twists in an unpleasant way. It's strange. You have no reason to feel this way when you don't even like him in any romantic sense.

"I'd rather not hear about your many conquests, thank you very much." His eyes connected to yours and you tried not to pull away, trying not to feign anything that would give you up.

"Don't tell me... You're jealous, aren't you?" He teased as his grin grew wider and you scoffed, closing the textbook almost a little too hard.

"Please, as if! I'm not the one here insinuating into starting something." You huffed and tried to disconnect your body from his to put the book away but he didn't let you, his arm holding you around the crook of your back firmly.

"I never mark them, if that makes you feel better. No matter how much they beg me to, I don't. I'm pretty good at controlling myself."

You paused, the heavy stone in your stomach still dragging you down. He sounded honest about it and any omega that he marked would've bragged about it for years to come. Hell, you wouldn't even be as close as you were with him right now if that was the case. Yet, the admission didn't make you feel any better and you'd rather not praise him for something so bare minimum.

"...I really, really don't care Reiner. You can fuck anyone you want silly and it's none of my business. I'm not your mate and you're not mine." His eyes softened, looking at you so fondly that you almost wanted to take back every word you had just said.

"We could be."

Time stopped. The way he said it so nonchalantly made you feel absolutely breathless, like you were punched so deeply in the gut. You so desperately wanted to kiss him in that moment — say fuck it, why not be his mate for the rest of your lives — but that was nothing but the godforsaken omega in you talking. This wasn't some cheesy romcom movie, this was real life. Why in the world would he think there was a possibility that he’d be your mate? The two of you barely knew each other besides the light-hearted chats you’ve had together, he only liked your presence because like every other omega, you were easy.

No matter how long you stayed up at night thinking about him or how much you desired pressing your body against his at all times, you would not sacrifice your future for him. You were trying to be more than just your sub-gender and more than solely becoming an alpha’s eventual trophy wife. Being with him would only complicate things. There was nothing he could do or say would change your perspective.

As you stood up with your stuff, you told him as firmly as you were able to make it without your voice wavering.

"No, we couldn't."

It felt like it was you trying to convince yourself otherwise.

You’d do anything to not be the one watching his heart break right in front of your eyes, his mood changing almost immediately. He tried to look away from you but you saw the deep disappointment reflecting in his irises. The softness they once held hardened up once he realized what he was feeling, trying hard to swallow back the pain. The change of his smell washed over you in waves, a cold melancholy hitting the back of your throat while a burning anger bit at the pit of your stomach at the same time. It wasn't like him to be so distraught with a simple rejection, maybe you were the first one that didn't immediately fall for his charms.

Maybe, just maybe... it should've been you that had gotten rejected instead. Perhaps it would've made you feel less awful about it.

"Yeah, sorry. I… I don’t even know why I said that. Why would I even choose yo— No. Wait. Fuck, I—" Reiner cleared his throat quickly and stood up himself, ready to get out of the situation he put himself in. He was backpedaling, you knew he was, but it didn’t make you or him feel any better about the situation. He really was not used to rejection, huh?

"Let's... let's forget all that. There’s a party going on in Delta Kappa Theta tonight. If you want to come, come. I don’t want you to keep preventing yourself from having fun." The way he still cared about you first made you feel like you were the complete piece of shit here. No matter what though, you didn’t owe him a relationship or situationship or whatever you two have.

You partially nodded anyways, a squeak of an ‘okay’ barely escaping you as you watched him walk away. Every step that he took made you feel even less sure about what you just did, but it was for the best… right?

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

It was the first frat party you’ve ever been to and as you approached the house, you knew that it was going to be way out of your comfort zone. You wanted to go back to your safe and warm dorm, make up an excuse to go to bed early, but Reiner was right, you shouldn't be cooping yourself up for so long without any other interaction besides him. You slowly took in a deep breath, tugging at the seams of your jacket before entering the house, music blaring in your ears and bright lights hitting your eyes as soon as you opened the door.

Find Reiner, find him. Your omega begged you as you shuffled through drunk and dancing bodies, but you ignored it. Would he even want to see you after you rejected him?

Someone tapped you on the shoulder and you turned towards the person, eyes wide with shock.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you," Another alpha, his clean rain-like scent faint from the amount of alcohol in the air. He was extremely tall but folded his body within himself while holding a red solo cup, and his black hair was in desperate need of a new haircut, nearly covering the tops of his eyes. The man didn't seem to present himself like an alpha, his demeanor certainly different to the ones you've met and seen before. "You smelled like my friend and the lights are way too bright so I thought you were him, so sorry again."

He looked vaguely familiar but it seemed that he recognized you first, his mouth suddenly agape. "Wait. Aren't you the girl that Reiner keeps talking about? Uh... sorry. What was your name again?"

"Y/N, nice to meet you. Reiner... mentioned me?"

He kindly smiled and nodded, holding out his hand for you to shake. "Bertolt and you have no idea. You're basically all he wants to talk about recently."

It felt like your heart skipped a beat, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. You really had that much of an effect on him? You felt partially proud that you, a complete nobody, managed to get him head over heels for you. The other part felt horrible, you didn't mean to lead him on like that to the point where he started bringing you up to his friends. It seemed that Bertolt realized what he said was causing you to get upset, pulling you towards the kitchen.

He quickly scooped up some liquid from a punchbowl and poured it into a new cup, handing it over to you. "Here. A drink might make you feel better."

You weren't new to drinking, only having it a few times casually here and there so you took a quick sip, a smooth burn going down your throat. You coughed lightly and shook your head, hearing him chuckle. He leaned against the countertop beside you, swirling around the cup in his hand.

"Bertolt?" You hated how small you sounded, trailing your fingertips against the ridges of the plastic cup.

"Hm?" He started to take another sip out of his drink, raising it up above his head.

"I don't know if he told you this already but I rejected him this afternoon." The sound of him choking and hacking followed suit immediately after you confessed, a spew of apologies running out of your mouth as you patted his back to get it all out. He definitely didn't tell him yet.

Once he managed to finally stop clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth and turned towards you, eyes wide. "Why did you?"

You bit the inside of your cheek and took another quick sip. "I told him that I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship or sex, all I want to do is focus on is passing my classes and graduating. That's the complete and honest truth."

His friend stayed quiet for a bit until he nodded once, as if he understood your reasoning.

"That's fair, you should be able to pursue what you want to do for your life instead of tending to his needs. It's hard out there for omegas and it's great that you're doing more for yourself. I know Reiner really does actually like you, but you don't have to pursue anything with him if you don't want to. You control what you get to do."

You felt flushed from both the alcohol and his words, you've never met an alpha that shared such a considerably controversial opinion before. You quietly thanked him, watching him tilt his head up towards the ceiling, sighing softly.

"Reiner... I've known Reiner since middle school and fuck, he has his moments where he tends to be a shitty guy, even long before he presented as an alpha. He's stubborn as hell and rarely listens to us and he's occasionally a great guy to be teamed up with, but inside, I know he's just trying to figure himself out."

"What do you mean?" He flinched, beginning to sweat bullets as he nervously fidgeted next to you.

"A-ah, sorry. I don't know if I should be telling you this since you're also his friend but," His pale eyes darted side-to-side, as if he was making sure that no one was listening. "Every omega he's been with, he calls all of them 'practice' for his fated mate. Everyone knows that having a fated mate is super, super rare but since he met you, well..."

He nervously tugged at the hem of his shirt but you immediately knew what he was saying.

"No." You awkwardly started laughing, shaking your head quickly. The house immediately felt even more stuffy and overbearing, a nauseating feeling overcoming you all of a sudden. Omegas being used as practice? Were you just another practice target if the relationship didn't work out?

"N-no, he doesn't seriously think that I'm his fated mate?"

Bertolt sharply inhaled through his teeth, eyes locked to the ground. "Reiner was always hopeful he'd find his second half and you've been the only omega he speaks so positively and constantly about. He mentioned the day you guys met, how your pheromones enticed him so much that he nearly kissed you and he wanted nothing more but to have you as his mate after that. Ugh, sorry. Even saying it out loud makes me feel gross."

You felt sick, numb. Were you even friends from the start or was all of his actions just some kind of courting method? You could barely hear yourself tell Bertolt that you had to go, fumbling a goodbye and an apology to him before pushing yourself into the crowd. The sea of people felt like it was getting more impossible to navigate the more you moved in it, a tight feeling building in your chest from being overwhelmed by every little smell and sound all around you.

Get out.

GET OUT.

When you finally managed to push through and find the front door, your blood ran cold immediately. Like a deer frozen in front of oncoming headlights, you couldn't believe what you were staring at. Every part of your body screamed in complete anguish and devastation but you couldn't move. You had no right to, but you couldn't stop your tears from rapidly falling down your cheeks.

Reiner Braun, sitting down on the couch with some stranger on his lap, tracing his hands down their back, and pulling them closer to his body.

Reiner Braun, kissing down their neck, the peaks of his canines just barely scraping against their scent gland.

Reiner Braun, basically publicly grinding himself against this willing participant of his.

His eyes opened half-lidded and in some cruel form of fate, locked onto yours. Out of everyone in the room, he managed to find yours. He pulled away from the omega, a strand of drool still connecting between them. His hand still rested comfortably on the curve of their back, his mouth uttering only one name with wide eyes.

"Y/N...?"

All you could think as you finally snapped out of it — running out of the fraternity until your lungs felt like they were being ripped to shreds — was how bad you felt for that omega. How they were only going to be reduced into something so demeaning, a dummy-run to find his perfect mate. They didn't deserve that, being wide-eyed and hopeful that because he decided to choose them for his lustful pursuits, they're finally worthy of being a candidate of his.

You sobbed aloud as you washed and scrubbed your body red once you reached your dorm, trying to erase every scent and touch he made for the past couple of months. He was nothing more but absolute filth and you fell for it like a fool, a stupid brainless omega. You thought you were better than that but no, you were just like the rest of them. Even if you were his so-called fated mate, why did he continue to seek out others? Wouldn't he have tried to abstain? Sure, you shouldn't have expected that much out of him considering that you didn't even accept his confession but for some reason, it still hurt.

Fuck Reiner Braun. You should've never forgotten that in the first place.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Now you were here, leaving the messy history of the second year behind and now moving onto your third. Always look to the future, as they say. You took a lot of preventatives in avoiding seeing Reiner, the plan nearly as extensive as your studying.

You blocked his number once he started to keep calling over and over again ever since the party, blocking the new ones that came every so often and changing your number once you couldn't take it anymore. There was no reason for you to hear his explanation, it's his business on who he decides to fuck and you shouldn't be mad about it anymore. Part of you was afraid that if you hear him explain himself, you'd run right back to him just like every other omega he had a finger wrapped around.

You stopped frequenting areas you used to hang around in, which was unfortunate since some of those places were your favorites. You moved dorms, avoided places he frequented, and made sure he wasn't in any of your classes. Your majors were luckily too different to be in the same buildings or rooms, and with the help of Bertolt, you were always one step ahead of him.

He was the one that approached you first in one of your classes together at the start of the new semester and taught you the ways in how to avoid meeting up with him. You didn't know why his best friend wanted to help you and once asked him, getting the answer that Reiner hasn't been himself recently and he was afraid that he might do something rash if he managed to find you.

"You have so much ahead of you, I’d hate to see Reiner make you throw it away."

Bertolt made sure that he wasn't seen with you whenever the two of you hung out, and when he was with him, he made sure to steer clear of your direction with a simple text. He had to bathe immediately after just in case your scent got on him, which should be nonexistent but he was afraid that if there was just the vaguest trace on him, Reiner would hound him about it. He basically became your bodyguard whenever it was possible for him to do so, and you didn't even ask. You've never felt so grateful meeting someone like him before.

He also brought up that Reiner's been playing more rougher than usual, and snapping at others even when they're on his side of the team exercises. Even the coach was too afraid to say anything about his behavior, relying on him and a few others that were friends with him to talk to him about it.

"It sounds like he's in a pre-rut." You mentioned, handing over the pickles from your sandwich over to him. He took them with an open palm and threw them into his mouth like chips.

"I hope not, his scent smells the same so far but he rarely gets into ruts for me to really know what he smells like. Plus, he never knows how to handle them well."

"Reiner doesn't choose any of the omegas he messes around with for his ruts?" Bertolt shook his head, swallowing.

"Not at all. It's weird, he may mess around with them during their heats but he never, ever lets them in when he's going through a rut. Think it has something to do with the fated mate mentality he has, but sometimes we don't even know he was ever in one until they're over, he basically disappears for a week or so."

It’s funny in a weird way. The two of you were hiding each other from behind Reiner’s back as if the two of you were dating. Even though the two of you became close, your relationship with him was nothing romantic. Some kind of bro-code would've been broken between Reiner and Bertolt if you started dating him, and you'd be eating your own words from what you've said to Reiner. Then again, you never wanted to date him and tolerated his looming, clingy presence on most days.

Bertolt told you that he liked someone but was too afraid to make any move. She was another alpha and one of his friends, so the pairing itself had its controversies. He kept saying that his confession might ruin what they had for years and he was satisfied being in her shadow. It was sad to hear him put himself in second place for her happiness. So you tried doing a little nudge for him to go for it — 'the worst she can say is no' kind of talk — because it was better for him to say something than nothing at all and still quietly pine for her. Bertolt got too excited and rushed in with the confession after one of his practices without your knowledge, a messy bouquet of roses tightly gripped in his hand.

There was a few word texts that he sent to you after the whole ordeal:

Didn't get accepted.

Heartbroken.

Bar.

You found him standing in front of your dormitory building waiting for you, awkward looks of both omegas and betas glancing at him. As you approached him, he took a few steps towards you and almost collapsed in your arms as you held them outstretched. His tears and snot quickly dampened your jacket, his body wracking out heaves of anguish. There wasn't an alpha in the world that you've seen so vulnerable before, his fists gripping your clothes tightly as he shook in sadness.

He started telling you what had happened once he somewhat composed himself, his voice weak and crackly as the two of you walked to his chosen bar. Unfortunately, she turned him down and told him that she was actually interested in some beta from Paradis Tech named Armin. You could only imagine the bouquet dropping to the floor in dramatic fashion, tears welling up in poor Bertolt's eyes. She apologized and somewhat comforted him by saying that his confession won't change anything between their friendship. That was good, at least on her side.

You started consoling him, rubbing his back in circles as he drunkenly wept on the polished wood after downing one too many tequila shots. The speed in which he drank each one was shocking to say the least, you don't think his glass touched the table since he picked it up.

"We've known each 'ther shince we were kitss." He hiccupped, head resting in-between his arms as he tearfully stared in the distance and dangled the shot cup in his fingers.

"If I shaid sumnthin 'ears ago, would she hab 'ccepted me — or or or — shill reject me because of awer shub-genda?" You pitifully stared at his crumpled form, not knowing what to really say to make him feel better about the situation. The bartender then took his glass from Bertolt and told you to take the poor guy home, shaking his head slowly as he quietly whined about getting cut off.

"C'mon big guy, let's get you back."

The walk was quiet besides the occasional sniffle and you could tell he was trying not to fall on top of you, his feet slowly dragging on the concrete. As the designated sober friend, you were carefully observing him, a hand firmly holding the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He stopped suddenly, the sounds of his sneakers squeaking.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

You turned your attention towards him, tilting your head to the side.

"If I wazzn'tin love wif Annie, I'd be sooooo in love 'ith—"

Bertolt then jolted to the side of an alleyway before he could finish what he was saying and started throwing up. It prompted you to quickly go by his side and hold him up, patting hard on his back to get it all out. You knew what he was going to say and you hated it. He's drunk and sad, nothing that came out of him was going to be honest.

"Don't say that Bertolt." You mumbled, lifting him back up once he finished and slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"I'm not going to be a replacement for you."

He reached over with his other hand, skin cold around the nape of your neck as he pulled your face towards his. You could smell the alcohol lingering in his breath, face cringing when you saw a bit of spittle still hanging off of his lips. He started saying something even more incoherent, his eyes beginning to close in hints of slumber.

"No, no, no. I... I swer'lve ewtoo."

You laughed softly as you shook your head in amusement, pulling him forwards. He really won't remember this at all. Bertolt finally fell silent, the occasional drunken groans slipping through if you tugged him too roughly.

Maybe in another world, if you had met Bertolt before Reiner...

You made the decision to take him to your dorm. The dormitory building was way closer than the frat house he lived in, and you'd rather not lug around his heavy body another ten blocks to get there. Never in your life you had thought you'd be sneaking in a giant of an alpha into the shared beta-omega dorms, but you wouldn't be the first to do so. It's a good thing his scent was currently dulled with alcohol or you'd be in more trouble trying to hide him. Quickly unlocking your door and taking him over to your loveseat, you watched as his body slowly relaxed into the cushions.

He was simply way too tall for the seating, his legs dangled off of the side of the couch as you adjusted him to a positioning that would prevent any risk of asphyxiation if he started throwing up again. You highly doubted that he had anything left in him, but it was good to be on the safe side. You lightly pinched his cheek, getting a change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom.

You checked on him once more before going to bed, a light snore coming out of him. Seems like he's all tuckered out and okay for now, the hangover is definitely not going to be pretty in the morning. You settled yourself into your sheets and turned the lights off, soon falling asleep.

The sound of your alarm on your phone blared in your ears, arms trying to pull out from underneath the blanket to turn it off but you didn't move an inch. Groggily opening your eyes, you saw an arm wrapped around your body, your mind not registering what was going on until you heard the soft sounds of breathing on top of your head. You turned your head slowly to the couch, the connection finally being put together when you saw his body wasn't lying there.

He started to rouse from his sleep when the alarm kept sounding off, an annoyed hiss slipping through his lip as his head lifted up from yours, reaching over himself to shut it off.

"Good morning big guy." You whispered as he settled back next to you, lightly squeezing you closer to him as if you were his pillow.

Bertolt grumbled quietly. "What time is it?"

"According to my alarm, maybe 8:05 in the morning." You tried to get up to get him water and something for his headache, but he didn't budge an inch. The two of you laid with each other, basking in the morning warmth quietly.

"Sorry for getting in bed with you, I tried finding a blanket but didn't want to wake you up."

"It's fine," You hummed quietly, turning your body towards him. "You okay though?"

He opened his mouth but closed it, falling silent as he slowly began to think. He turned on his back, staring at the white ceiling.

"Not really. Everything still hurts and I'm tempted to cry even more but... I don't know. Some part of me feels... relieved? If I never told her, I'd still be stuck in a loop worrying whether I'd ruin something between us and keep having this twist in my stomach whenever I see her with someone else. I'm glad that she found someone that she's happy with but..."

Bertolt put his forearm over his eyes, letting out a soft laugh.

"But why do I still want her?" His voice cracked, a tremble following the end of his words and once more, you wrapped your arms around his torso. You could smell his sadness, a heavy and misty petrichor filling the room in waves.

"Sometimes there's things that we desperately want to have but can't have. Irrational as it is, it's in our nature." You mumbled, your hands balling up in his sweatshirt.

"Like you with Reiner?" Your blood ran cold as he said that but you merely pushed your face into his body.

"I don't know."

In the end, Reiner managed to find you and ask you to his game. You texted Bertolt, asking how was he able to get your location after being almost MIA for months. Apparently when you and him finally snuck him out of the dormitory, it completely slipped his mind that he had to wash off like usual. When he entered the frat house, Reiner greeted him but stopped midway, quickly approaching him and grabbing his shirt collar roughly.

He demanded me to tell him where you were. I'm so sorry Y/N, I couldn't stop him and our team needs the both of us playing.

You stared at the text, almost throwing your phone in frustration. You should've said no, had firmly stood behind your decision. Yet, the second his pheromones reached your nostrils, you couldn't stop yourself from agreeing, even if you were trying to look angry at him. You've noticed it had gotten stronger than before, was it because you haven't seen him in a while? You couldn't even be mad at Bertolt, you'd be terrified out of your mind too if an alpha was demanding an answer from you like that.

It's only for a few hours, you thought as you took in a slow breath. After that, he'll finally leave you alone.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Reiner picked you up earlier than usual. It was about 5:10 when you heard a knock at your door, causing you put down the lip gloss before you even could apply it. Shuffling over and peeking through the peephole, you saw him standing there in a suit and tie. He cleaned himself up, the stubble he once had when he found you was completely shaven away and his blond hair was slight slicked back with gel.

"You're early." You muttered as you opened the door, keeping it barely ajar. He's not even supposed to step foot in the dorm, nervousness crawling up your spine. His pheromones hit you like a train, practically everyone that was walking down the dorm hallway could smell him, heads turning in your room's direction.

"I wanted to see you." He grinned, pushing the door open even more — nearly knocking you over — and handing you a bouquet of morning glories, camellias, and forget-me-nots. As you were staring at the mostly red flowers, almost a complete eyesore with the addition of the light blue petals that peered out from within, he waltzed in your safe haven without your permission.

"Hey! Reiner, you can't just—!"

You groaned as you exasperatedly followed after him, placing the bouquet down on your desk. His form was absolutely massive compared to the entire room, his head constantly turning towards the different decor that you hung up on the walls.

"I've never seen your dorm on the inside before, it's cute. It's... you." He softly mumbled, your face turning warm. You grabbed his sleeve, trying to tug him out of your space so you can get ready, but he stopped in the middle of the room, his attention honed in towards the messed sheets of your bed.

"Reiner," You started, your eyes following to where he was looking at. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you smelled a burning anger occupy the space — a smoldering, cindering scent — nearly making you cover your nose from how horrible it was. You gulped, hand slipping out and down to your side in a fist. "Reiner, w-we... we didn't do anything."

He just stood there silently, still focused on your bed. He has every right to be angry, you were literally snuggling with his best friend this morning, but you didn't belong to him. Scummy as it was, you made your bed and laid on it, there was nothing he could change about it.

"I-I'm just going to get ready." You whispered, turning around to go back into the bathroom. Big mistake.

Large hands grabbed your wrist, dragging you around in a speed that you couldn't comprehend. You almost screamed as he threw you on the bed, Reiner following after you and trapping you beneath him, his leg in-between yours. Fear was pouring out of you in waves but he couldn't smell it, no one could.

It took him little time and effort for him to press his lips against yours, your eyes wide as you soon realized what he was doing. You tried moving your mouth away, a scared and little no slipping out but he caught you again, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your head to stay in place. You tried pulling at his suit, squirming and kicking your legs, anything to get this monster off of you, but he didn't budge, seemingly finding enjoyment in your weak attempts as he pressed himself deeper against your lips.

His knee nudged at your cunt, a muffled, surprised gasp coming out of you, letting him enter your mouth even more. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his tongue run against yours, the wet muscle violating wherever he went in a meticulous fashion. You could barely breathe, the smell of him and the aftershave he had on was so intense that you could feel the tug of your omega side slipping through the cracks of your mind; not even your medication was able to stop you from feeling this way.

Reiner finally pulled away, a mix of each other's saliva connecting the two of you. Strands of his gelled back hair fell over his forehead, your once-brushed out hair tousled into a mess. Both of your breaths were uneven and heavy, his eyes low and dazed as he stared down at you. Tears were running down your face, ruining what you've already put on, your eyebrows scrunched together in absolute horror as you shared the same stare with him. He sniffed the air once, again and again as he neared your neck.

"Stop, stop, stop." You cried out as you pushed against his stubborn head, fearing that he would bite down on your scent gland.

He didn't make any move, only sniffing at you like a curious dog. He then pressed his lips against it, causing you to abruptly stiffen in horrid expectation.

There was no pain as he pulled away from you, your hand immediately shooting to your neck to feel for any welts or marks. Nothing. A simple kiss was all he did on it, and you couldn't help but feel appreciative that he didn't mark you.

"Don't you dare see Bertolt ever again, you understand?" He hissed into your ear, the threat echoing hollowly in your head. No way in hell were you going to listen to him, but the omega in you nodded slowly, his heavy body finally lifting off of you. You tried to ignore the imprint straining against his lower half, your eyes staring up at him in complete shock.

"Go get yourself ready."

Shakily getting up on your feet, you beelined towards the bathroom without a single word, nearly collapsing on the floor once you turned the lock. As you looked at your face in the mirror, dripping dark drops of mascara and eyeliner stained the apples of your cheeks. The lipstick that was once there, was now rubbed away, leaving nothing but your bare lips. Your hand trembled as you reached over for a makeup wipe, a quiver of a sigh coming out of you.

You wanted to throw up, get every bit of spit and slobber of his out of your system, but you couldn’t. He’d hear you.

Reiner brought one of his jersey's for you to wear once you came out of the bathroom with fresh casual makeup back on, and you could tell that the article was completely drenched in his scent. You sniffed at it gingerly as you held it in your hands, cringing away from the sweet vanilla smell.

"What? It's clean, I promise."

"Liar." You mumbled under your breath but pulled it over the shirt you wore, the fabric loose against your body. He took a quick minute to admire you in his clothing, placing his hand on your cheek and stroking the skin with his thumb. You could still see the red stain of your lipstick smeared on his lips, trying to fight back tears and a sneer.

"You look so fuckable right now," You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched the tip of his tongue licked across his bottom lip, the darks of his pupils reflecting an unhinged licentiousness that horrified you within every atom in your body. "Maybe tonight, when I win, I'll be getting another trophy."

"Don't forget our deal asshole," You finally spat out, ripping his hand off of your face in disgust. "I'm only going to your stupid game because of the promise you made this morning."

Reiner simply stared down at you, your nerves scrambling even worse than before. He finally scoffed, crossing his arms. "Right. Our deal."

You hated the fact that he basically was acting like he didn't just forcefully kiss you, your nails digging into the palm of your hand. "Can we go now?"

He checked his phone, huffing slightly. "Yeah. Don't worry, we're not that far to the stadium. Just a few traffic lights and we'll be there."

You felt all the color drain from your face. You thought it was close by in walking terms but now you had to be in a small space where it now completely smells like him? Might as well hold your breath the entire ride.

The short drive was quiet, some random old rock station was lowly playing on the radio, but the two of you didn't speak to each other. What would even be exchanged anymore? You didn't want to be associated with him so long as you walked on this planet. Reiner's fingers thrummed on the wheel, red spilling into the car and staining every surface within. He turned towards you as if he wanted to say something and you stared back, a chill running down your spine. No words were said, but you felt every little thing from his smell.

Ravenous, a voracious appetite for the predator in disguise. Right in front of him, a five-course meal just ripe for the picking. All he's doing now was waiting for you to back into an inescapable cliff, the perfect moment to finally strike.

"...You have to go." You whispered and he finally broke eye contact, staring at the traffic light above and accelerating.

"Yeah, right."

The silence once presumed until the two of you approached the stadium, him mentioning that he got you a seat near the rink so you could see the action up close. To be honest, you could care less about the game and who would win overall. Reiner handed you the ticket between his index and middle finger, but when you reached over to grab it, he took it back.

"Need a good luck kiss from you first. If this is the last time I'll get to see you, I want to make it last."

You didn't want to rile him up before he played or make him force his hand upon you in the car, so you planted a quick kiss on his cheek before grabbing the ticket from his hand simultaneously. "Okay. Done. Good luck or whatever."

You scrambled out of his car, making your way to the inside as soon as possible. The arena was louder than you thought once you stepped foot, the joyous chatter and screams echoing throughout the hallways. LED screens hanging from the ceiling flashed the words Marley Warriors vs Paradis Titans, showing the line-ups of each team member.

Reiner came first in the centers, his pose prideful and boasting with stats to match. The other three names that you noticed were Porco Galliard, Colt Grice, and Eren Kruger. You eventually saw Bertolt come up as one of the right wingers but no sign of his usual reserved side showed in his photo, he looked focused and tough more than anything else. One of the goalies was an older looking individual by the name of Zeke Jaeger, confident but not too boasting. Clips of their past games showed afterwards, showing their amazing teamwork and impressive previous goals, then moving on to the other team.

The main centers for the Paradis Titans were composed of four men; Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirschtein, Levi Ackerman, and Miche Zacharius. Was the Eren guy related to the other Jaeger on your university's team? They definitely didn't look alike in your opinion but it could simply be because of a crazy Punnett square. Some wingers and defensemen that you sorta paid attention to were Armin Arlelt, Hange Zoë, Floch Forster, and Connie Springer. The goalie on their team was a massive blond man named Erwin Smith, his photo exuding a powerful stance, maybe even more than your uni's goalie. You felt like Reiner's team might have some trouble facing them, their defense and attack seems pretty threatening.

You finally took a glance at your ticket, walking around trying to find the stairway for your seating. The smells of popcorn, melted cheese, and hotdogs filled your nose, but you didn't feel hungry at all, still sick to your stomach from what had happened earlier. Eventually you finally found where you were supposed to go, and if you thought it was loud in the other shell of the arena, finally stepping in the seating area and the rink was absolutely ear-breaking.

Sirens, music, screaming, loud announcers. Almost every unbearable sound was contained in the structure, you should've bought earplugs prior to this. Not to mention, every scent of maybe hundred alphas and omegas intertwined made you feel even more overwhelmed, a headache beginning to form.

It's only for a few hours, a few hours and you'll never see this place or him ever again.

Your seat was nearby Reiner's team, nearly in-between the other team as well, the other teammates chattering with each other. You've sorta recognized them, occasionally seen around campus and such. Heads and eyes of strangers from school nearby were somewhat turning towards you, even the team started to notice you walking up behind them. Your face burned up at the realization once you sat down. Shit. You had completely forgotten that you were wearing Reiner's heavily scented jersey, you might as well be showing off the mating mark that he could've made a few hours ago.

"Yo Braun's omega is here!" One of the team members called out and you almost hid your head in your hands in embarrassment. Oh God, don't say that.

"Y/N, you made it?" The most recognizable voice cleared your thoughts immediately, head perking back up with a wide smile.

"Bertolt!" You wanted to hug him but he recoiled back as if you were a stranger, his nose scrunching. Your face fell immediately, his gaze sinking down in shame when he noticed your crestfallen expression.

"Sorry, it's not you. It's... y'know. That." He nudged the bottom of the jersey with the end of his stick, a frown forming on your face.

"I know. He made me wear it." You frustratingly tugged at the fabric with one hand and he chuckled, ruffling the top of your head. You'd burn it on the spot if you could.

"I didn't make you wear anything babe, you've always liked wearing my clothes." The sound of his voice made you freeze in place, eyes wide as your head turned in the direction of where he was walking in. Bertolt followed suit, his hand retracting away from you as if you were suddenly a hot stove.

"I don't think I could follow up your end of our deal if you're not respecting my demands, omega." No. That was never part of the agreement. You just gave the okay so he'd get off your back about it. He genuinely couldn't be serious about not seeing Bertolt anymore, right?

"Don't be an asshole Reiner. She's not just an omega."

The blond scowled at his friend, shoving his helmet roughly against his chest. He pushed it off of him, staring the other down in a sneer. You've never seen Bertolt like this before, the usual rain smell he had was turning stormy and bitterly furious.

"Oh, I'm the asshole? I wasn't the one hiding my fucking mate from me for months and sleeping in her bed. Not to mention, what happened to Annie or did you get tired of another alpha that's better than you?" You internally winced for him, that was such a low blow. Bertolt looked stunned for a second, glancing over at you for a quick second, but he pushed his shoulder back roughly in return.

"Don't bring Annie into this Reiner, this is about my friend. Did you really think she'd let you — of all people in this school — mark her when you act like a conceited asshole? She's not your fated mate. You've proven that over and over again that she's going to be like the rest, you knotheaded fuck."

You gasped at the sudden insult, a vein nearly popping out of Reiner's forehead but he didn't say anything more, pushing past Bertolt and shouldering him roughly with a scowl. You didn't mean for them to start an argument with one another, the game hadn't even started and tensions were already high. The Paradis Titans team weren't hiding their amused stares, the Eren Jaeger guy whispering to the short haired, bowl-cut blond next to him; Armin, you think. The murmurs of strangers behind you made you feel sick, hearing the word knottease being tossed around, the horrid word directed towards you.

You started to apologize profusely once Bertolt turned towards you, but he simply held out a hand, patting your shoulder as you stopped.

"Don't be. Someone needed to say it to him, maybe this fight would finally clear his head."

"But the game Bertolt, I—" You started but he interrupted you once more.

"I don't give a shit about the game if you're the one being hurt. You matter more than hitting a puck around, okay?" If you weren't wearing Reiner's jersey, you'd hug him right now. He smiled and put his helmet on, leaning close to you to whisper something in your ear.

"By the way, don't listen to the jerks behind you. You're nothing like that, you're going to be something great." He backed away once the horn started, walking over to the entrance to the ice rink to join his team. Good luck, you wanted to say because if anything, he'll need it when he gets into the arena with a monster in tow.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

If you thought Reiner was bad in practice, his violent playstyle was nothing compared to when he's in an actual game. How on Earth this sport was approved to play for anyone, you had no idea. All you could hear was men yelling at each other and slamming each other to snatch the slippery little puck, fans behind you hollering just as loudly.

Both Reiner and Bertolt had seemed to forgive each other on the court, winning being the only thing on their minds. Just like in practice, they didn't have to say anything to get the point across, making passes and attempted shots whenever they had the slightest of openings. The two Galliards seemed to be more communicative with one another, defending the goalie whenever they could with short barks of commands. They were good but Eren Jaeger seemed to be the rookie ace of the Titans, managing to push through and score in the most impossible scenarios.

You could tell he was aggravating them, putting them in a corner while constantly taunting them with a one-liner or a smug smile as he scored. An angry alpha was something not to mess with and putting a whole group of them against other alphas who were mocking them for their failures? It's obviously an immediate recipe for disaster.

Intermission came around, the score against the Warriors by two. As the teams were talking to one another to plan out their next attack, you watched the Zambonis slowly smooth out the ice again. You paid no attention to them and their chatter, you wouldn't have made sense of it anyways.

"Hey," You looked around for the source of the voice and finally down, seeing bright turquoise-blue and a mess of brown hair standing below you. He smelled sharply fresh, like the first bite to a mint leaf and drinking cold water afterwards. It wasn't necessarily bad like most in the arena, just made your nose crinkle a little from the suddenness of it. "Eren Jaeger."

"Oh- um... Y/N. Aren't you supposed to be talking to your team?"

He waved his hand dismissively towards your statement, crossing his arms with a smile. "Nah, there's nothing else that's new with the planning. You, however, are the talk of the arena."

Your cheeks flushed warm, the temptation of burying yourself alive later on growing more and more, but you grimaced instead. "So what? You wanted to see if I'm what they say I am?"

Eren shook his head, taking a few steps closer towards you. "I'm not talking about the knottease comments, I'm talking about the Reiner Braun's mate comments. Is it true?"

"No! Of course not!" You exclaimed in shock, but the subtle-not-so-subtle glance downwards towards your attire seemed to make him doubt you otherwise. You tried defending yourself about it without revealing much about the twisted relationship you actually have with Reiner.

"This is just because he thinks he's claimed me and we've made a deal. I have no other choice."

"Is it now? Well then," He pointed towards himself with a thumb, his grin growing even wider. "When I win, wanna go on a date with me after this?"

How many alphas were gunning for you right now?! You knew that you took your suppressants today after Bertolt left your dorm so how come this was happening to you? The absolute balls on this man, especially since he was thinking that his team had already won. You wearily shook your head, you've had your fill of pestering alphas for the rest of your schooling life.

He looked dejected for a second but perked up immediately, the buzzer of the timer echoing throughout the arena. You thought that was that and began to turn your attention towards your college's team, but then he called out a 'head's up', tossing something in your direction. You caught it in surprise, looking in the palm of your hands and finding a keyhole shaped earring.

"Keep it! For the next time we meet!" Eren waved you goodbye and jogged over to his side of the team, high-fiving and chattering with his friends before putting a helmet on. You let a small smile slip out, he may be a little cute but there was definitely no way you were ever going to see him ever again. You safely tucked it into your pocket, finally looking towards the Warriors.

He was watching you. Of course. There was a livid look in his eyes, his brows scrunched even more in irascibility and his teeth were bared, perhaps even grinding together in this current moment. You paled at the thought of them sinking into your neck like some kind of rabid animal. Reiner was barely human anymore, you realize. Any loving gaze that he had before for you was nothing more but a dangerous hunger.

All you could hope was for the Warriors to win so he would be in a decent mood to finalize the goodbyes, and you'd pray for the Titans for the brutality that they're about to endure because of his horrid attachment to you.

The players slid into the ice once more, the deafening cheers of everyone growing louder and louder as the second half of the game was beginning to start. The referee smoothly made his way between the two masses of men, Reiner staring down coldly into the clear mask of Eren. Like a coin flip, the puck was thrown highly into the midst of them, their eyes following it as it made its way down to the icy ground.

Click.

In a snap of a finger, the sound of sticks bashed together once the puck bounced off of the surface. Like a choreographed dance, the rivals whirled with one another, swinging and twisting their bodies around in order to get ahold of the very thing that might as well be the trophy itself. The intensity of the game was now at an all time high that even you started to pay more attention to it, the hairs on your arms raising in anticipation.

The puck swung back and forth like a pinball, but the Warriors managing to catch up to a tie. It was starting to become a standstill again however, taunting chants coming out from the people in the stands, jeering at the anyone that opposed their team. Players were being switched out on both teams during timeouts but few remained on the ice, a tense aura between the three.

Reiner, Bertolt, Eren.

Bertolt took a few glances at his friend, tapping the end of his stick with his and seemingly started to exchange words with him from what you could see. Who knows what it was about; the game, the enemy team, you. He only lifted his fist up, letting the other return it in a similar gesture and that seemed to calm the black-haired male's nerves.

Reiner's eyes were lasered in on Eren for the most part, gripping the handle of his stick tightly and swiping it around on the ice as if he was practicing a shot. He was truly unrecognizable, a shell of the man that once followed you around like the world's most clingiest puppy dog. You knew he wanted to show-off, his pride was at risk to a girl that he believed he owned for months. Disgusting and typical.

Eren seemed the most lax out of all of them, leaning against the plastic border as fans behind him fawned over him. He seemed not to care about Reiner's burning glares at him, waving across the rink to seemingly you. He seemed nice, but it was obvious that he had more intentions than just wanting to befriend you.

The whistle sounded and the game began once more, the men skating themselves back to the middle. You checked how much time was left on the clock, ten minutes. Ten more excruciating minutes and you were going to be finally free.

" 'Round it now!" You could hear Reiner call out to Grice as he suddenly slammed his complete weight into enemy Jaeger, their eyes meeting as the others chased after the puck. They went after it as well once he recovered from the blow, but it looked like they started talking and you managed to spot a furious glint glazing over his hazel eyes.

He suddenly threw his stick out onto the rink, ripping off his gloves and grabbing Jaeger's shirt by the collar in frightening speed. Reiner was undeniably experienced with his punches, uppercutting him from below the mask. It toppled off of his head, falling to the ground with a crack, and Eren was stunned for a second, just for a single second. He was unable to completely process what had happened before the bigger male tackled him to the cold ground, the deafening sounds of heavy bodies slamming into the ice made the arena stand still.

The referee was too afraid to intervene but blew the whistle immediately, and hundreds of people watched the Reiner Braun brutally dig his knuckles into his face. Fresh crimson spilt down on the ice in splatters and you were forced to witness him weakly trying to stop him, protecting his face as much as possible to no avail. Bertolt immediately tried pulling him off of him, shouting at him that he needed to stop but it was like he was in a trance, almost attacking him in the process.

He finally was pulled off of Eren by the goalie of Warriors — furiously throwing his own punch into his face — and the poor boy having to be quickly removed from the rink on a stretcher. Reiner was pinned to the ground by multiple individuals and given a tranquilizer, his body soon relaxing and slumping over. They put him on a stretcher as well, his hands and legs bounded together and his mouth wrapped with a cloth rag. He was still slightly conscious, his calm and woozy stare meeting your horrified one.

The game had to continue without them but you had already left, not knowing the result. You felt too nauseous from smelling the sheer fear and panic that was coming of Eren, pungent and potent as it filled the air. But Reiner's...

All you could smell was that sickening warmth, a burning sensation in your nares. The same scent from your dorm but that's not at all what made you leave immediately. The sick fuck was happy he was beating into the defenseless guy, exhilarated that his blood was running down his skin and staining the floor, joyful. The nose doesn't lie and you wonder if everyone else caught it too.

Bertolt texted you when he visited Reiner in the hospital, but you didn't respond, busy trying to scrub the remnants of him out of your dorm while tears ran down your cheeks.

He did it for you.

161 notes · View notes

vettelsdarling · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiii can I get a request for Lando basically a sunshine x grumpy where the reader is a new driver that wants 0 distractions and ruled out dating any drivers and so she gets along with everyone but is more distant with Lando because she knows if they get close she’ll fall in love with him but she can’t afford any distractions but he still puts in effort to get to know her and making her smile etc despite her pushing him away and they have this moment and idk you can finish it however you like plsss and thanks!

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Lissie note… Hey there! This is a really cute idea, I love the thought of Lando pining!! Thank you for the creative freedom to finish it off however I feel!

Things to note:

This is set in the 2022 season, but not in the same timeline(?) you'll see

Reader isn’t completely new to Formula One, but it’s her first time on the grid as a driver (she’s been a reserve driver)

Reader is a few months/a year younger than Lando

Reader is a Red Bull driver

Pairing: Sunshine!Pining!Lando x Grumpy!Serious!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, Pretty angsty, J*s Verstappen

Word Count: 6.5k+

Recommended playlists: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Formula One. A bloodsport, really. Vicious and dangerous. Somehow you’d managed to rise through the ranks and get there. Even earning a place next to Max Verstappen, the second-youngest world champion. Christian Horner, your team boss, was the kind of person who nursed his drivers as if they were his own children. You yearned for the proud look on his face. Not just for him, but for yourself.

Growing up in a middle-class family, you weren’t as privileged as other kids in karting. Your mother worked tirelessly to support you, whilst your father took you to each race. Now that you’d finally made it to Formula One, you wanted to do everything you could to pay them back. They had given the better part of their lives up so that you could live yours the way you desired.

Winning a championship in Formula One had always been a childhood dream of yours.

… and you were not about to give up on that dream anytime soon.

You, Max, and Horner had come to an agreement: Max would help you win as much as possible. Nobody and absolutely nobody was to get in your way. Max promised to make sure of that. Since you were younger than him, he treated you like a younger sister, whilst still treating you as an equal. Given the fact that he had a sister, he was great at it.

You were in your car. It was the first qualifying of the season, and you felt all of your nerves tense up. It was your first ever feel for Formula One besides sim racing. You’d been stuck as a reserve driver for nearly 2 years— safe to say, you were relieved to finally get a seat. Max and Lewis had just been dominating too much. However, this year was yours and yours alone. You were determined to shine, and you would take down anyone who so much as breathed a hint of threat your way.

You were released and you started your out lap. The tyres felt smooth and the car was completely in sync with you. It was nothing like sim racing, and nothing like Formula 2 either. You’d done practice runs several times before, but there was something about the real deal that elevated the experience that much more. You knew there was a lot of pressure on you for qualifying. Mainly due to the fact that Max had no way of helping you. It was every man for himself, and there was no way you were going to get kicked in Q1.

“You doing alright?” You heard your engineer say. It made you get distracted, and you accidentally exceeded track limits.

“Well, now I’m not! Shut it, please.” Well, shit. You knew that blunder would be noted immediately. It was surely a deletion of your time. Therefore, you decided to push. Hard.

The next lap was a go, and you worked your way meticulously around every corner, hitting every apex just right. You were determined to make it into Q3. No matter what it took.

You got one final time in, and it was announced by your radio that you made it into Q2, placing P5. You weren’t the type to scream out with joy, so you merely thanked them for the notice.

Q2 began, and you barely made it through to Q3, placing P10.

What nobody expected was your spirit. If you wanted something, you were going to get it.

“Okay, we’ve notified Max that he should try to slow down a bit, to possibly get you a pole position. This way, we can also help you from behind in the race.”

“Copy.” Your chest felt ticklish with adrenaline, and you pushed harder than before. You did everything you could. Your body felt as if it had been fused to the car. You were getting the fastest sector time left and right. It was exhilarating.

“That’s a pole! Great job! We did it!” Your engineer screamed into your ear with excitement. It was deafening, but that didn’t matter. It felt so good.

“Thanks for the help, guys.”

The front row consisted of you, Max, and Lando Norris; a driver from McLaren. You hadn’t really conversed with him much before. Except one time. Max had invited you to attend the end-of-year party a year back. Lando barely managed to introduce himself before he was interrupted by the Dutchman.

After Lando finished his interview, he moved back to where you were waiting patiently for your turn.

“I hear you’re into brunettes?” You were, but you hadn’t told anyone. Which could only have meant that it was his go-to pick-up line. Lame, if anything.

“Did you also hear I’m into guys who don’t bother me?” It wasn’t a matter of teasing him or playing hard to get. You simply had no time for something as frivolous as dating on the grid. It was pointless and would only serve as a distraction when you had to stay focused.

“Cute.” It almost felt repulsive to hear him say that. You’d never really been in a relationship other than the many situation-ships you’d allowed yourself to fall victim to in your Formula 2 days.

When your turn finally came, you shook David’s hand with a smile. Adrenaline was still making its rounds throughout your system.

“You did an amazing job today, surely you must be excited!” David was such a gentle and warm soul, so you decided to lay off the colder side for a little.

“I feel amazing, really, I’m over the moon!” You grinned. He asked you some generic questions and you gave him appropriate responses for each.

“You’re the first woman in a long time to have raced in Formula One, you should be proud,” he finished off, before letting you go.

Max slung his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back to the Red Bull motorhome. Christian greeted you at the door on his way out, pulling you into a big bear hug and thanking Max for the sacrifice. The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the leather couches in front of the small flatscreen that was inside.

“Max, I really hope it’s okay for you to do all of this for me…” You looked over at Max who was scrolling through the channels.

“Of course, I’ll do it for you. We’re teammates. Besides, it would’ve been wrong if you weren’t talented and couldn’t actually take me on… but you can… so…” He started trailing off as he got a phone call. It seemed to be his father, so he immediately answered it. Of all feelings, you were definitely not surprised by the angry bickering coming from his father through the phone. The look on Max’s face was all but whipped with joy.

When the call ended, you tried to find the right words to comfort him. It was rather hard though, as you’d never really experienced his situation before.

“… I’m here if you want to talk about it?” That was really all you could offer. But your support meant everything to Max, who had made quite the impression on track. Fans saw him as a hot-headed brute, with nothing on his mind but winning.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t anything. Don’t worry about it.” His demeanour had completed a full 360°.

“Well, in any case, if you ever happen to need someone… you know I’ll always be right here.” Without warning, you pulled your brother figure into a warm hug, rubbing his back gently. You’d only ever met his dad a couple of times, but both times were horrible. The man was stone cold. He was intimidating to you.

To celebrate your pole in qualifying, Max had invited you out for dinner with a couple of friends. He said you knew who they were, but still, you felt off about it.

Your hair cascaded down upon your shoulders, masking your exposed collarbone from your little black dress. It was a simple dinner dress you’d brought along for the trip. Your makeup was light but accentuated your features to the fullest extent. Your shoes were designer and matched your padded Prada mini-bag. You threw on a black blazer to complete the look. Flawless.

Max had texted you the address of the restaurant along with the time. You jumped in a cab and gave the driver the information. The cab driver was chatty. He talked about his family, mentioning the fact that he had twin daughters who had just started middle school. You zoned out on the rest of his chatter though. The thoughts of dining with Max’s friends felt daunting somehow.

When you finally arrived, you were already late. You’d been too busy zoning out to notify your teammate. Upon walking in, you saw a fancy vined wall with several pictures of celebrities who’d visited the establishment. Amongst them was a picture of Max and the Brit who’d tried to hit on you. Lando Norris. A waiter approached you with a polite smile and a guest list.

“Oh, um… Max Verstappen?” You also made sure to mention your name so as to not stir any confusion or suspicions. You could’ve easily been mistaken for a fan.

“Right this way, miss.” He led you to a quiet room in the back. It was likely reserved for the restaurant’s VIPs. There you laid eyes on Max and Daniel Ricciardo… but Lando Norris too?! A wave of relief washed over you, as you realized you knew them somewhat.

“Max, you didn’t tell me she would be here?” Lando took the view in with delight, smirking as you noticed it. You rolled your eyes and took a seat beside Max. Unfortunately, that seat was across from curly-haired Brit.

“It was a surprise. We’re actually celebrating her first pole today.” You felt slightly embarrassed, almost like people singing you birthday songs.

“Max, isn’t this just rubbing another Red Bull win in our faces?” Asked Daniel. He was obviously joking, so you shot him a playful glare, chuckling shortly after.

After a while, Daniel and Max had gotten deep into their conversation, which left you to deal with Lando. He’d stolen several glances of you throughout the dinner and it didn’t seem like he was planning to stop. You took it as your opportunity to strike up some small talk. All in hopes to get him to stop staring.

“You should stop staring, my image might get burned into your retina.” He didn’t even bother blinking. His eyes moved from your figure to your eyes.

“I think that’d be a blessing, no?” You scoffed at his reply. You saw it as nothing but a foolish attempt at flirtation— which you didn’t appreciate. Sure, you were off-track, but that didn’t mean you had time for meaningless distractions. Lando gave off a clear vibe that he was nothing but a hindrance to your ultimate goal of becoming a champion.

“You’re playing hard to get. I like that,” he smirked and slightly leaned back in his seat.

“Could you be any more obnoxious?”

“If that’s what you want me to be.” He was truly impossible to communicate with. Every sentence was a pick-up line to some degree.

“I’m not interested in you, Norris.” He seemed to completely disregard the message you sent, as a smile grew on his face the moment you uttered his last name.

“Glad to know you know my name, Miss Red Bull.” Admittedly, he was pretty easy on the eyes, and his small chuckles were cuter than you wanted to acknowledge.

“You should let me take you home after this.”

“You don’t even know me.” Contrary to your belief, that wasn’t true at all. He knew exactly who you were. He and Max were close friends after all. But the real kicker was; he’d been into you for much longer than he led on.

His infatuation first started in the early stages of the 2021 season, when he’d see you wandering around the tracks on weekdays. He’d seen you in the Red Bull garages, usually deep in conversation with one of the engineers. He’d asked about you from multiple people. That included the big man himself; Christian Horner. Though, Christian encouraged him to stop asking around and just strike up a conversation with you. However, Lando never actually found the time to approach you. You were always surrounded by mechanics and the media. It was simply impossible to get to you. It was almost like you were a national treasure. Pretty to look at, but that was all he could do.

“Trust me, I know you.” For a moment, you got lost in those dashing eyes of his. He returned your gaze, only looking into what would be considered the windows to your soul. Could he read you? Could he understand that you didn’t want him? Did you want him?

“You’re incredible up close.”

“Excuse me?” You snapped out of whatever trance you’d been stuck in as soon as those words left his pouty lips. That statement was creepy if anything, and not flattering in the slightest… or was it?

“That’s a pretty off-putting thing to say, you know?” This luckily caught the attention of Max who’d finished off with Daniel. The two of them turned their heads your way to join in.

“What’s off-putting?”

“Oh, we were just talking about how obsessed Lando is with me.” You said it in a joking manner, but everyone’s faces went semi-pale. Especially Lando’s.

“So he finally talked to you? I’m glad I don’t have to answer any more of his idiotic questions.” Your mouth went dry at his words, and Lando’s face turned a rose colour. As if all air conditioning had been turned off on a hot summer’s day.

“Excuse me?” You’d lost your appetite, making your curiosity the only reason you had to stay. That and your appreciation for Max having paid for the dinner that was supposed to serve as a celebration.

“I- um…” Lando was reasonably hesitant to say anything.

“Well… I was just referring to his constant flirting. I didn’t believe it was deep or anything but… um… you know what? This was nice, Max. Truly. I think I’d like to get home. I’m absolutely drained.” You sighed with a screwed smile on your lip. You gathered your things and pushed your chair in. Despite your friend’s heavy protests, you left and got a cab for yourself.

Leaving on an empty stomach hadn’t been the plan, so you had no choice but to stop by a grocery store. Many in the area had salads ready to go. It was no five-star meal, but it had to suffice.

Of course, you felt awful for leaving early, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself stray away from your goal. Lando was attractive, you couldn’t stand there and lie to yourself, but that was all the more reason to stay away. Well, besides the point that you barely knew the guy. The flirtatious comments and borderline creepy behaviour were nothing to you. It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to ignore. As long as he stayed out of your way.

Except he didn’t.

The following morning, you had a couple of missed messages from Max. He’d been worried after you took off. You were too frazzled and in a hurry to respond. There was no time left before the briefing back at the motorhome. Being punctual meant that you showed an interest. It meant that you showed passion. You were not going to let some silly McLaren driver ruin it for you. That was simply not your style and would never be.

When you got there, everyone was already gathered. They’d been waiting for you to arrive. Honest, but embarrassing mistake. You wanted to let out a slew of self-insulting jabs. Lucky for you, it didn’t last too long, and you were on to start prepping for the race.

“Hey, are you okay?” A certain Dutchman tapped your shoulder and spun you around when you weren’t responsive. The look he saw in your eyes spoke volumes. Notes that you wish weren’t easily revealed. The eyes didn’t lie. They never did.

“I’m fine, I just really want to focus on winning. I don’t have time for whatever Lando is trying to drag me into.” You sighed as the two of you walked to the motorhome.

“Look, I know you haven’t known him for long, but maybe try to get along with him? You don’t have to accept his shitty flirting. He’s my best friend and so are you… it’s really awkward that you can’t even be around him.” True. You had acted somewhat irresponsibly, but you certainly weren’t the only guilty party in that.

“Fine, but under one condition. You tell him to stop being so flirtatious with me. I hate it.”

“Deal.”

The race ended with a lucky pole position. Somehow, you’d gotten away with defending yourself from none other than your little McLaren fan. As much as you enjoyed your national anthem being played and spraying champagne— you felt so empty. It felt like a worthless celebration. All because you knew you’d been underperforming. You hadn’t given it your all, yet Lando still kept behind you. Of course, with Max behind him, there was nothing for you to worry about. Both drivers were amazing when it came to defending their place, but you just couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gone for the win. It was right there. Right within reach. It was so close, his beautiful curved lips could touch it. It didn’t make sense to you, nobody would be stupid enough to sacrifice coming out on top. You didn’t believe it. You simply didn’t even want to.

Lando became unavoidable. As more races were won by you and some by Max, it was finally time for the summer break. 3 weeks of much-needed rest.

… what you thought would be a relaxing 3 weeks, turned out to be the most stressful weeks of your life.

Max had texted you on short notice to come over for dinner, as Kelly had made too big of a batch of gnocchi. Since you lived walking distance from him, you didn’t see any harm in coming over. Kelly wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world, but it wasn’t like she was insufferable. She was still a nice person… somewhat.

Max greeted you at the door, having Penelope run up behind him to say hi. You might’ve not been the biggest fan of her mother, but she was such a cute little thing. You took her up into your arms and smiled,

“Hi there ‘P’!”

Your smile quickly faded though. The Brit from McLaren came into view from behind Max, and it was almost as if all of your spirits had been sucked out of you like the marrow of a bone. It was something of a consolation, however, that he stayed silent. He just stood there and watched as you played around with Penelope. The toddler was full of energy.

“Come come, the gnocchi is ready.” You put the girl down and followed them into the dining room. Kelly had plated everything and had taken the liberty to sit across from Max. You had no choice but to sit next to her. It wouldn’t exactly make sense for her to be sitting next to Lando.

“Kelly, I must say you are an amazing cook, this looks fantastic!” Fake it until you make it. In all honesty, though, she was a great cook.

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing lately.” It felt like deja vu when the couple got into talking. There was just you, Lando, and Penelope.

“I think I should apologize for… everything?” Lando suddenly spoke. You scanned his face, his hair, his outfit. Were you in trouble? Perhaps.

“You know what, Kelly? I think I’ll help tuck Penelope in!” You got up from your seat and politely put down your cutlery.

“Oh, sure. Thank you. It’s way past her bedtime.” She smiled at you and signalled for Penelope to come with you before she turned back to Max.

Lando had the guts to follow you into Penelope’s bedroom. He watched as you lifted the little girl up into your arms and placed her carefully on the duvets that covered her bed. She was already in her pyjamas, which made your job all the more easy. He took the chance to sit next to you on the bed, as you stroked the toddler’s cheek.

“Are you really going to avoid me forever?” He said in a quiet whisper, not wanting to disturb the girl from dozing off into the gentle night.

“You’re a fool if you let relationships taint your path to victory… in my opinion.” You turned your head to look at him. The moonlight shining from the gaps in the blinds complimented his dancing eyes. They looked at you. Your figure. Your facial features. They admired you as if you were a priceless piece of art at a gallery.

“You must’ve led a pretty sad life up until now.” He wasn’t right. You’d been around love and laughter for the better part of your life. You weren’t that lonely… were you?

“Lando… we don’t even—”

“Don’t tell me we don’t know each other. You know me and I know you. This isn’t like all those months ago. We’ve been in social settings together more than I can count on my fingers. You and I know each other.” He was obviously desperate. It made sense when thinking of the massive crush he’d had on you thus far. You did feel a tinge of guilt knowing you had to turn him down no matter what.

“Lando, please don’t do this.”

“I apologize for being so forward, okay? How about we begin with a friendship, huh? That’s what Max would want anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. That’s what Max had asked of you several months ago, but you’d only been distant.

You got along with everyone pretty well. Mick was someone you would chat with every time you saw him on race weekends. Sebastian was like an older brother. Lewis, although your biggest competition, was a good buddy too. You were always hanging around Pierre and Kika too. There were no hard feelings between you and pretty much all of the other drivers. Except for Lando.

As much as you hated admitting it, Lando’s charms had taken a massive effect on you. His flirtatious little comments were nothing short of annoying, but you loved the banter. You loved his energy, his radiant laugh whenever Max would hurl jokes his way. You loved his smirk whenever you rejected his advances.

Over just a couple of months, you found yourself needing to avoid him. So you did. As more time passed, Lando must’ve started to notice, because he dialled his game up by the tenths. Avoiding him became an impossible mission. He seemed to be everywhere. If you went to the Red Bull motorhome, he was there with Max. If you went to the garage, he was there with Max. Even on-track he was right behind you in your slipstream. He was always chasing you. You only had one other option left— to act completely apathetic and aloof. Which brought you right to the confrontation in front of a little toddler trying to fall asleep.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Just go, okay?” Your heart clenched as he gave you a disappointed smile.

“If that’s what you want.”

That night you couldn’t fall asleep. It was impossible. Whilst you didn’t harbour any real feelings for Lando, you knew you’d fall hard if you spent any more time with him. Your mind was supposed to be focused on winning, but instead of that— you were stuck on him. You didn’t want to fall for him. You didn’t have time for that. There was only one person that mattered, and that was you. Only you.

“Is he really that bad?” Kika asked as she took a sip of her coffee, placing it on the plastic coaster on the wooden table. You’d invited her over for a sleepover of sorts. Mainly what became an accidental therapy session,

“You know, I came here to Monaco to explore. Why are we sitting here and sulking? Lando isn’t all that bad.”

“Yes, Kika, he is! He keeps trying to get close to me, and when I reject him he makes me feel so guilty for doing so.” Your face was squished against the table, signalling your utter defeat in the matter. You were at a complete loss. You didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Sounds to me like you have a thing for him, no?” Kika was a voice of reason in many situations, but this was not acceptable to you. Denial and delusion was the only solution.

“Never. I want to win a championship, not go fool around with some British guy from a midfield team.” Harsh, but you had to say it. Saying it didn’t exactly have an effect on the situation, but it made you feel better.

“I don’t see any quick fix to this, honestly.” You groaned at her words, wanting your misery to end.

“Come on, relationships take time. I should know, I’m with Pierre.” Pierre wasn’t Lando though. She and he were meant to be. It was as if they were put on the planet to be with each other. You, on the other hand, were put on the planet to win. Lando was nothing but a meaningless distraction.

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” she finally said and sighed. You sprung up and looked at her with wide eyes,

“Really?”

“Really. Now listen. I’ll set up a double date thing, okay?”

“Wait what? No! Kika, no. That’s only going to make it worse. Why would you do that?” Your head dropped again.

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

“I do…”

“Then let me do my thing, and sit tight.” It was her win. You just wanted to get Lando out of the way. Any lengths were necessary if it meant being able to blow right past the Brit.

A week passed before the supposed ‘double date’, and you were not feeling it one bit. Lando wasn’t even all that close with Kika and Pierre. Not as close as you were. You’d end up being the only reason he’d have to stay.

Sadly you realized that fact too late. You were sat with Kika and Pierre at a fancy seafood place down by the harbour. Lando had noted that he’d be late, which gave the three of you some time to discuss some last-minute details. It was imperative that he’d be completely out of the equation by the end of the date.

It wasn’t so much the question of whether or not you’d fallen for him. No, it was whether you could ignore it altogether. Completely shut out any little squeak from your heart when it tugs at the sight of him. Which is just did.

You saw him walking through the door with a casual, but not too casual outfit. His curls were slightly slicked back and his smile was as radiant as ever. You couldn’t stand the sight of him. It was repulsive. Was it not? It made you sick. Did it not?

When he took a seat next to Pierre, across from you, it was hard to not look at him. Oh, but how badly you wanted to. Then again— you didn’t. You hated the fact that Kika had some diabolical plan in mind. One that probably went against everything you stood for.

“Well! Now that Lando’s here, we should order appetizers!” She pulled out the menu and casually looked through the variety of foods.

Whilst she ordered for the four of you, Pierre gave you a nervous look and slightly peered over at Lando, who luckily had his nose buried in his phone. Likely some business stuff. You could only mouth ‘What do I do?’ to which the Frenchman replied with a shrug and a miserable look on his face. He knew just as much as you, that this date would end up in a knot of awkward silences and unfinished sentences.

“Lando, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. You know, given this girl’s obvious distaste for you.” You nearly snapped your neck, as she pointed at you. Oh, how you wanted someone to interrupt your date. Anyone. Lando put his phone away, sighed, and looked at you with a small smile, before giving her a reply,

“I don’t care if I’m being completely honest. I’ve done it for months. I can go for years if I have to.” Kika had seriously misinterpreted Lando’s intentions and how badly he actually wanted you. Your version of the situation had him painted in an entirely different light after all. You made him out to be some meaningless player. Which, by the sound of things, wasn’t his style at all.

“I was under the impression he was trying to play you! That’s why this date would’ve worked out to get him off your back. What is this?!” Kika whisper-yelled. Everything was messed up. Way off course. The plan had gone to shit within less than an hour.

“Well… I really don’t like him, so isn’t there something you can do?” You whispered back. The two of you both realized that the guys were able to see you whispering back and forth, so she hauled you into the ladies’ room. It was quiet and nobody would disturb you.

“Do you want the truth or a sugar-coated lie?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip.

“The truth?” You were conflicted though. Did you actually want the truth? Did you already know it? Did you perhaps just bury it deep within the darkest chambers of your pitiful little lonely soul? Were you so obsessed with rising to the top, that relationships truly didn’t matter?

“You like him. No, it’s more than just an infatuation. You’re head over heels for him. The way you looked at him when he walked in? I saw it. Pierre saw it. The waiters saw it! Open your eyes.” Hearing it from another person really put things into perspective, and it didn’t sit right with you. All your life you were used to pushing people away. Silly little childhood crushes would stay exactly that; crushes. You never let anything go beyond the first stage.

“Kika… I don’t know,” you groaned and turned on the faucet, splashing some water on your face.

“Come on, let’s get back to them. They’re waiting for us.”

After sitting back down, Lando tried to give you a curt smile. It was awkward and the pressure was rising. It was hard to stay within 10 feet of the guy.

“I remember when I first started falling for Pierre. It was really something… how about you, Lando? When did you start having a thing for her?” Oh please, Kika seemed too determined to let it go. A part of you liked that, but the other part felt its gut screaming in agony.

“It’s been more than a year or so now, actually… it’s a little hard to explain.” With that, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You apologized and left the setting abruptly. It was far too much for you, and you just knew your heart would give out.

As you walked out of the restaurant and started looking for a cab, you heard footsteps running after you, with the calling of your name soon following right behind. You knew exactly who it was, but you didn’t know if you were ready for that conversation.

“Please don’t. Don’t leave again.” You turned around to see a very desperate-looking Lando.

“Lando, do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” You sighed and rolled your eyes as if you were a bratty teenager being denied the latest fashion statement dress.

“What?”

“Even I didn’t know it had been a whole year and more than that! You were seriously going to tell them all about your weird little obsession with me! Don’t you see how embarrassing that is for me?” The curly-haired brunette looked reasonably upset by your words. They cut deep like a dagger to the chest.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just being honest. It felt like an interrogation. I was uncomfortable and just had to say something… well… the truth. It was really as if Kika wanted to know my intentions, though.” How was the guy so spot on?

“Lando, just leave me be and go back to the others. We can live our separate lives. I don’t want to be near you right now.” You didn’t want your face to reveal any underlying feelings, so you buried your gaze in the asphalt.

“Why don’t you go ahead and look into my eyes whilst you say that.” Your heart stopped. Lando was simply impossible.

“Lando, just let me go. I don’t want you and if you can’t accept that— I don’t think there’s any space for a friendship either.” This time, he went to hell with it and cupped your face with both hands. You could feel the warmth pulsating in each palm, sending jolts down your spine.

“There’s no reason to treat me like this if you can’t even say it straight to my face.” He held you too tightly for you to look away from him. All you could see was the genuine despair in his eyes. The little hope he had left was slowly slipping the more you denied and denied and denied.

“Lando if you don’t let go of me right now…”

“What are you going to do? Distance yourself from me? Isn’t that what you've been doing this whole season? Do you think you’re invisible? I’ve seen you. I saw you on the podium. I saw you on the screens. I saw you in the magazines. Just because you run away, doesn’t mean you get to go the easy way out. No, you’ll know that I—“ Fuck. Your brain was struggling to scramble everything together. All you could think about was those sweet eyes of his. Those curly locks. That desperate look on his face.

“Just let me go… please.” The overload of sensory input sent a single tear streaming down your face. Lando, seeing this, immediately let go of you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in some way.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“I know…” You quickly wiped the salty drop of truth away and put on yet another jester’s face.

“Please, can you tell me why you hate me so much? I just need closure. I just can’t find it in myself to believe that it’s because of my flirtation.” He’d given you space to breathe and space to think.

“I don’t hate you…”

“Then why do you keep leaving? Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because I’ll fall in love with you if I don’t… and that’s not what I want to do.” It was hard to read his face, but it was certainly portraying some kind of relief. You confirmed it when he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat matched the pace of yours. Fast and relenting.

“Please, could you give it a chance? Give us a chance?” He pulled away, grabbed you by the hips and looked deeply into your eyes. The window to your soul.

“I just told you… that’s not what I want, Lando…” You were just about to give the ground another look at your face when Lando grabbed you by the chin,

“I know you’re obsessed with winning. I heard from Max. I won’t compromise that. I promise. It’s just… I need you in my life, and now that I know you feel the same way… I can’t just sit back and watch you slip away.” He was making it harder than you wanted him to. He had a point and you chewed on it.

“Fine… but you better let me win. At least for the remaining races of this season.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a deal.” He smiled. It was as if time stood still, as you’d eyes closed with his— your lips touched his with a certain birding falling off your back along with it. His lips were like a cure. They were soft and delicate. Not something you expected, but the feeling was certainly welcome.

The season had ended with you as the champion. The party that was held was unlike the others. It was your party. Not Max’s. Not Lewis’. It was yours and yours alone. People cheered your name and toasted in your honour. You felt like you were on top of the world. More than anything though, Lando held you in his arms that same night. He showered you with congratulations and compliments. Even going as far as buying you a bouquet of roses. The club smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume, but all you could smell was the woodsy and warm scent of Lando’s cologne. You were practically engulfed in it throughout the entire night.

He took you on an official date a week later, waiting for the season to fully conclude. Mostly due to the stress of packing and making it back home.

It was a picnic in one of the many British marshes. Everything was home cooked. Well, you’d cooked everything and he had bought the wine. It was a win-win. You’d done everything overnight, as you wanted to arrive early into the morning.

You’d spread out the checkered tablecloth for you to sit on, opened the basket, and prepped everything. Lando opened the aged wine and poured you a glass before he poured his own— a true gentleman. You swirled your wine around, watching it hit the rim of your glass before you took a sip.

“For once, you aren’t running off before we eat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dine, even with all the dinners we’ve had together,” your boyfriend chuckled and handed you a chocolate-covered strawberry. You took a bite of it to show off that you, in fact, were able to stay and eat. It stirred a little chuckle from him. He then mimicked the exact way you ate it and gave you another one after you finished yours.

You leaned against your lover’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you watched the yellows, the oranges, and the reds in the sky as the sun started its ascension far into the horizon. It was mesmerizing. Truly. You admired the view, taking in all of life’s pleasures, and listened as the mourning doves cooed the same old nostalgic tune from your adolescent years. There was no place you’d rather be, and nobody you’d rather be there with, than with Lando Norris. The one, who through one too many races, was right in your slipstream.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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planet-hwa · 17 days ago

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: ̗̀➛ the heartbeat of a genre ཻུ♡

summaries and previews

the members of ateez set into different romance tropes. a fusion of teeth-rotting fluff and gut-wrenching angst

note: these stories have no universal connections and are in no chronological order. also, i chose the tropes for each member just based on what type of storyline i think their personalities would fit in. please don't get offended, this is all fiction.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ KEY fluff - ♥ angst - 🌧 smut - ♨

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ welcome page ⭒ masterlist ⭒ requests

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ back to the night we met ੈ♡˳

seonghwa's story

summary you knew at the start of your relationship, dating an idol was going to be difficult. with the busy schedules, constant working late into the night, and going on world tours for months, of course it would be hard to get used to. but it was worth it for seonghwa who you loved so deeply — if only his “fans” didn’t make your relationship and your life theirs to control…

pairing seonghwa x reader trope right person, wrong time

: ̗̀ ♪ i had all and then most of you, some and now none of you now playing the night we met by lord huron

⁺˚*･༓☾ the one that should’ve got away *+

hongjoong's story

summary the romance movies painted opposites to always attract to one another — sunshine and grumpy, the carefree and the workaholic, the hero and the villain — being taught these stories over and over made you believe they could be real. dating hongjoong, a music producer who was emotionless and only cared for his work, showed you that nothing was ever like the movies.

pairing hongjoong x reader trope opposites don’t attract

: ̗̀ ♪ if i knew then what i knew now, i would’ve never let you in now playing the one that should’ve got away by nessa barrett

-ˏ͛⑅ a play date with you ˚ ༘♡ ⋆

yunho's story

summary growing up homeschooled meant you rarely had interactions with people your own age — you had no friends. until the day that yunho and his family moved in next door, his kind and gentle persona instantly attracted you to him. it was almost perfect when you discovered his bedroom window was directly across yours, starting the schedule of late night conversations through the wind.

pairing yunho x reader trope boy next door/friends to lovers

: ̗̀ ♪ walking to your house, nobody’s home. just me and you and you and me, alone. now playing play date by melanie martinez

◞♡ ⃗loving you is a bloodsport *ೃ༄

yeosang's story

summary having yeosang in your life made you one of the happiest people alive, as well as the most miserable. as your friendship flourished through the years, so did feelings that exceeded it — only for you. begging and praying to a higher power for the feelings to reciprocate caused them to crash and burn instead. as long as your friendship wasn’t affected, everything would be fine… right?

pairing yeosang x reader trope unrequited love

: ̗̀ ♪ but i don’t know if you can help it, maybe i’m just being selfish now playing bloodsport ‘15 by raleigh ritchie

◛⑅· i only want your love ˚ ༘ ♡

san's story

summary the soulmate theory: humans were originally created with two heads, four arms and four legs but were split in half by zeus — cursed to forever be searching for their other half. you always kept that in the back of your mind along with your fantasies of a romantic love, still waiting for the day that you found your other half. unbeknownst to you, that person would be your first and last love.

pairing san x reader trope first love/soulmates

: ̗̀ ♪ there is no other love, it’s only yours now playing you’re all i want by cigarettes after sex

-ˋˏ✄ is it easier to stay or go ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

mingi's story

summary having an older brother came with a lot of cons but also some pros: occasional comfort, constant protection, song mingi — the list goes on. but your favourite thing your brother did? throwing a rager party, because you knew that one person would always have an invite, his best friend who brought the fun to any room… including your bedroom.

pairing mingi x reader trope brother’s best friend

: ̗̀ ♪ is it easier to stay? is it easier to go? i don't want to know now playing easier by 5 seconds of summer

*⁀➷ haunting you, haunting me 𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

wooyoung's story

summary if you were ever asked who the worst person you know is, you would have an answer locked and loaded: wooyoung. he was arrogant, loud, vindictive, and the most irritable person you knew. you despised him, and the feelings were mutual. you promised yourself that you would hate him until the day you die… but promises get broken.

pairing wooyoung x reader trope enemies to lovers

: ̗̀ ♪ i know if i’m haunting you, you must be haunting me now playing haunted by beyonce

↶*ೃ✧ our bittersweet tragedy ࿐ྂ

jongho's story (teaser out now)

summary growing up as the preacher’s daughter came with a list of rules that were not to be broken. the main rule: no dating. especially not someone like the town bikers leader’s son, jongho. he practically had the word dangerous written all over him. but if he was such a warning sign… why were you so drawn towards him?

pairing jongho x reader trope forbidden love

: ̗̀ ♪ i can’t fall in love with you no matter how bad that i want to now playing bittersuite by billie eilish

author's note i'm so excited to write all these stories that i just wanted to post the previews of them for you guys. i've currently started on jongho's and written a few paragraphs of yeosang's so they'll probably be the first posted !!

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #yunho x reader #yunho imagines #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagines #san x reader #san imagines #mingi x reader #mingi imagines #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #jongho x reader #jongho imagines

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cowgurrrl · 1 year ago

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cardigan

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Author’s note: *gasp* a stand alone drabble

Summary: “You can have my heart if you have the stomach to take it.” - Yves Olade, from Bloodsport; “When rome falls” aka you and Joel talk about scars [1.6k]

Warnings: talks of Joel’s attempt, grief, talks of self-hatred, feeeellliiinnnggggsss, learning to live despite it all

"Tell me bout this one." He asks as he traces over the jagged scar on your bicep. It always started with one, and then, before you knew it, you were mapping out each other's bodies like cartographers with sacred valleys and mountains never seen by another. You laugh and move your hair out of your face to see Joel better. He looks gorgeous in the calming orangish light of your room, his eyes bright and his muscles relaxed.

"I got into a fight with a tree branch and lost," you say, and he laughs, burying his head into your neck to hide the sound. You smile and shove at his shoulder. "I don't know why you're laughing at me. It was very scary."

"'M sure it was."

"Alright, asshole," you say as you grab his hand and trace the scar littering the space between where his thumb and pointer finger connect. It's long and silver and barely noticeable, but it looks like it would've hurt when it happened. "How'd you get this one?"

"Workin' my first job."

"What was your first job?"

"Mechanic."

"Your first job ever was being a mechanic?" You ask, and he nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "How old were you?"

"Sixteen. Maybe seventeen." He says. You try to imagine a much younger Joel with softer features and darker hair. That little creature of habit probably wore the same things he wears now, but with more Texas paraphernalia. Cowboy boots and a hat. Maybe even one of those absurdly large belt buckles. Just the thought of a skinny, sixteen-year-old Joel wearing a huge belt buckle makes you laugh.

"I bet you had all the cute girls coming in to get their car fixed, huh?"

"Somethin' like that." He smirks, and you roll your eyes.

"So, how'd you get the scar?"

"I cut it tryna fix an engine in an old car. It barely ran as is, and my boss wanted me to just gut the whole thing, but my dumbass wanted to see if I could fix it, and I cut my hand open on something. I still don't know what. Got blood all over the shop and had to get one of the guys to drive me to the hospital," he raises his right hand and traces the scar. "Ten stitches all through here, but other than that, everything was fine. Scared the shit outta my mama, though."

"D'you ever figure out what was wrong with the engine?"

"Nope. Boss replaced it before I could come back."

"Bummer." You say, and Joel hums, reaching up to feel for the thin scar on your neck. His fingertips are warm and gentle as he traces the bumpy skin like braille. Like he could know every piece of you through touch alone.

"Another fight with a tree branch?" He asks, and you chuckle.

"A fight with a pissed-off client. Held a knife to my neck because I didn't give him his usual supply."

"And is he still with us?"

"You're cute," you say as you brush some hair from his face. You try to smooth it down so it doesn't look as crazy, but your fingers catch on the scar on the right side of his head. You pause and let yourself memorize the feeling of the raised skin. It's long and rough as it peeks out of his hairline. He must've needed a lot of stitches if it's still so prominent all these years later. His breaths get shallow, and his eyes search your face. "Can I ask about this one?"

He takes a deep breath and nods. Wordlessly, he grabs your hand from the side of his head and kisses your fingertips. He traces circles into the back of your hand and stares at the ceiling. You watch his face change ever so subtly as he thinks, a quick pursing of his lips or a muscle in his jaw jumping when he glosses over the memories. You're convinced no one else in the world can read him like you can. You're a little smug about it, but you'd never tell him that. God forbid he try to school his microexpressions too.

"It happened the day after Sarah died." He starts, and your heart sinks. He swallows thickly and shakes his head. "I didn't care anymore. She was gone, and there was nothin' I could do to bring her back, but I thought... I don't know. I thought I could make the pain stop. So, I tried," he mimes pointing a gun at his head. "But I flinched. Still don't understand why. Tommy hauled me off to a FEDRA medical tent, and they patched me up. Scared him half to death findin' me like that." Your eyes flutter shut at the image of a frantic Tommy trying to get Joel medical help, both choking on their grief as they stumbled through. Joel always told you how much he worried about Tommy and made sacrifices for him. You wonder how many nights Tommy stayed up and watched Joel sleep so he wouldn't reach for his firearm again. You wonder how much pain they were in and never talked about it. When your eyes open again, Joel stares at the scar on your neck to avoid your gaze. You reach out to trace the shell of his right ear.

"That's why you're deaf in that ear." It was meant to be a question, but it comes out as a breathless realization, and he nods.

"It's why I'm deaf in that ear." He mumbles. You look at the scar with a new understanding and sadness. Your fingertips graze the rigid skin again, and his eyes fill with tears. He's waiting for you to flinch and pull away. He's waiting for you to ask him to never talk about this again. He's waiting for you to get angry at the past like he is. In slow, precise movements, you sit up until you're half on top of him, your eyes heavy with emotion. Then, so slowly he thought he dreamt it, you lean down and kiss the thing he hates the most about himself.

You linger for a few seconds like you're trying to repair the skin with your touch alone before moving to kiss the ear he's deemed useless. You kiss his forehead, nose, cheeks, and jaw, catching his tears as they fall. He holds you close and tries to bury his face in your neck to hide from the love he doesn't think he deserves. You put your hands on his cheeks to keep him in place and stare down at him.

"I'm so fucking happy you flinched." You whisper, struggling to keep your voice steady at the thought of him being gone before you could meet him. Then, you obliterate his world. "I'm so happy you're alive." You say.

In all his years on this earth, nobody has ever told Joel Miller they were happy he was alive. He doesn't know how to react. He just catches your lips and tries to press the words he can't find the strength to voice into you. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. It's okay if you can't love me like this, but Jesus fucking Christ, I hope you can try. I won't be weak anymore. You make me want to live. Nobody's been able to do that in a long time. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You let him flip your positions and hover over you, tears still falling down his cheeks as he kisses you.

Rays of early morning sunshine filter through the dusty window and cast shadows across the room. You both have to get up for work soon. You know what'll happen if you don't go, but you also want to get lost in the cartography of Joel. It's okay, you think. We have the rest of our lives. You rest your forehead against his, and he takes a shaky breath, thoughts crackling loudly in the quiet room. You grab his chin and turn his head so you can kiss the scar one more time before forcing him to look at you.

With determination and longing in your eyes, you say, "Stay with me." And you both know you're not just talking about the crisp October morning. Like so much of your lives, intention slips between the cracks for the other to pick up and examine like a long lost earring you find and wonder, "Where have you been this whole time?" He kisses you again, feeling his eyes prick with water before nodding.

"Okay," he says. "I'll stay with you if you stay with me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Miller."

"Good." He smiles.

The grief will never go away. It will never be fair that Sarah died that night. You can never go back to the people you were before that day. But you can do this. You can find ways to live not despite the pain but because of it. Because he loved Sarah. Because you were kind and empathetic before Cordecyps wiped that from memory. Because grief is a conglomeration of memories so jumbled together you can't tell them apart anymore, but you can still feel the love left behind. So, you'll continue to kiss the tears away and soothe the nightmares and stitch the wounds that will heal over into nasty scars with nastier stories. You'll endure as long as you can have more mornings like this.

And little by little, step by step, you'll learn how to do more than survive with him. You'll learn to stop waiting for the darkness to find you. You'll learn to be kind again, and he'll learn to forgive himself. Together, you'll make something whole and beautiful and worthy from your pile of broken pieces. It can't change the past, but goddammit, if it doesn't make the future look pretty good.

#the last of us angst #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller hurt/comfort #the last of us hurt/comfort #tlou angst #tlou fic #tlou x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou hbo #tlou game #the last of us fic #the last of us x reader #joel miller angst

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siilvan · 1 year ago

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bloodsport – prologue

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: all it takes is a chance meeting.

genre: general, angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra, no desc.)

warnings: semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, minor descriptions of blood/injuries, military/spec-ops inaccuracies, lieutenant!reader, not much makarov in this chapter sorry </3

word count: 3k

note: never thought i'd reach this point. but, here i am, thirsting for my formerly least favorite character. all because they gave him tattoos and showed his tits. enjoy! <3

also totally didn't use my oc's callsign for this. ur crazy bestie. (this is still 'x reader', no backstory/personal info is given to reader)

your head is spinning, the world around you a haze as your eyes fight to regain focus. there's a constant ringing in your ears, deafening you, and you wince once the pounding in the back your skull becomes apparent.

everything slowly begins to come back to you. the operation in al mazrah, the warning from HQ, the explosion, the floor collapsing below your feet. you're laying on your back now, aching from head to toe. the building that you were in with soap and gaz is reduced to rubble, lying in pieces around you.

you manage to turn your head to the left and see soap laying motionless a few feet away. farther away is gaz, struggling to push what used to be a metal support beam off his trapped leg. you blink furiously at the pair, trying to clear the dust and sand out from your eyes, and breathe a ragged sigh of relief at the subtle rise and fall of soap's chest. you attempt to call out to gaz, but all that leaves your throat is a weak noise and a wheezing cough.

price and ghost are probably on their way already. you just need to wait for them. the mission was doomed from the start, you all know that, but it won't end in your deaths so long as you hold out.

the ringing in your ears slowly fades, and you can hear footsteps approaching from your right. it was a small group, judging by the heavy footfall - had price and ghost found help somehow?

you carefully turn again, expecting to be greeted by the familiar sight of your teammates. the harsh midafternoon sun sits in that direction, forcing you to squint in the bright light as you try to make out the group of silhouettes.

the first sign of trouble was gaz's panicked shout of your name. the person in the front of the pack blocks the sun's light upon reaching you, casting shadows in their path and finally allowing you to glimpse at their face. you blink again, angling your head to identify the person hovering over you. it takes several seconds for your foggy mind to recognize them but, when it does, your blood runs cold.

makarov.

⋆⋆⋆

you're woken up by someone shaking your shoulder, a gentle voice calling out to you. with a whine, akin to a child being disturbed by their mother in the morning before school, you bat their hand away and force your eyes open.

"y'not get enough sleep last night, lieutenant?" gaz asks, sitting on the couch next to you. the harsh fluorescent lights on the ceiling make you squint and rub at your tired eyes for relief. "bad dream?" he adds a second later, taking note of your dazed state.

"yeah, just a bad dream. nothin' to worry about." you assure him with a downturned smile. according to the watch on your wrist, it was ten o' clock. you'd be setting out for al mazrah in about half an hour.

gaz woke you up for the mission, you realize. soap was located nearby, occupying himself with last-minute gear checks, and ghost soon enters the room with his arms full of supply crates. anything from ammunition to water and food was packed in, ready to be loaded into the transport helicopter that you'd be taking into the city. price was hunched over a table filled with scattered maps, blueprints, and gathered intel from your allies in the city.

"alright, let's go over the mission one last time. this needs to be a clean operation - we've got no room for error." price stands straight and glances around the room, personally scrutinizing each of you. the four of you gather around the table alongside the captain, the fatigue quickly dissipating as you focus on his words.

"the city's a mess right now; there’s civilians in the north, enemies to the south, and allies scattered in the wind." price flattens a map of the city with various locations circled and marked against the tabletop. "ghost and myself will offload with the supplies in the north. petra, gaz, and soap will touch down in the east and make their way south to the target building. once we're done up north, we'll link up with our allies in the city center and secure the district surrounding you."

price nods towards you and the sergeants. "should buy you enough time to get the job done."

"we'll do it in half the time," gaz boasts with a self-assured grin, crossing his arms over his chest. soap mirrors his confidence, and both earn pointed looks from yourself and the other two men.

"there's a reason you three are working together on this," price says. he pulls a cigar from one of his vest pockets and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger - a nervous habit you picked up on a long time ago. "you sergeants are fast and damn good at clearing a place out, but if left unchecked, you get yourselves into trouble. petra's good at keeping you two in line, so you're going in together."

"we're a small team in contested territory, it's essential that we have each other's backs." ghost speaks up, sending the two a cursory glance. the sergeants nod, and you continue to listen as price details the rest of the plan.

⋆⋆⋆

the helicopter ride to the city was almost relaxing enough to lull you back to sleep. keyword: almost.

a little while after takeoff, laswell's voice comes through your radios, claiming to have some new intel. you assumed it would be something related to the ground forces, be it enemy or ally, until the word missile echoes throughout the cabin.

price attempted to pry more information out of her, only to be shot down - "i don't know" was all she had to offer in response to his questions. laswell's never been one to panic, even in the face of sure death, but the concern in her voice was palpable. if her intel was accurate, than there was a missile being prepped to launch, and its target was the very city you were fighting in.

you've never seen the team look so solemn during a landing. laswell assured you that she was working to locate and disarm the threat, but she could make no guarantees. you couldn't back out, either; the mission was too important to abandon now. as you disembark alongside soap and gaz, price gives each of you a single bullet from his handgun.

"for luck," he said.

as you stealth your way through eerily silent city streets with the sergeants in tow, you ponder on his choice of words. the bullet sits safe and sound with the rest of the ammo for your own sidearm, ready to be loaded in case of an emergency. if it comes down to your final bullet, though, you might as well consider yourself dead.

after some time and several blocks, you locate the target building. it's a high-rise, a sore thumb sticking out against the surrounding local businesses and low-rise buildings, making it easy for your group to identify it.

"captain, we've got the building in sight," you say into your radio. soap and gaz peak out from your current hiding spot, studying the security and forming their own plan to infiltrate. the two are the team's resident experts on CQB - if anyone can fight their way into enemy territory without breaking a sweat, it's them.

the thought allows you to take a calming breath and relax your tense shoulders.

"solid copy. we just finished up here, so we'll be headed your way soon." price replies. you can hear idle chatter in the background, likely the civilians. "we'll talk again once we're close or you reach the target. whichever happens first."

"copy all, sir." you silence your radio and follow the sergeants' gazes, eyes landing on the building again. considering your objective, the security detail was lacking in numbers. either a fake-out to make you lower your guard or a result of the incoming missile, you presume. no matter what the reason may be, you hold your gun close and try to keep your head clear.

"what exactly is the target that we're going after, l.t.?" soap mutters from next to you, tearing his eyes away from the scene. you shake your head before turning to him.

"did you not listen to the debrief, soap?"

"i did, but price never said what we were goin' after!"

"he totally did, dude. you just weren't listening." gaz perks up, prompting the former to stutter over his words to make a defense. after a minute of bickering between the two, you shush them.

"we're just screwing with you, soap," you concede, giving him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "price told me what it was earlier. some kind of scrambling device that's been screwing with people's tech and causing periodic blackouts. we need to deal with it before it causes something worse than a communications loss."

gaz lets out an amused huff. "yeah, like a helicopter fallin' out of the sky."

"actually, i'm pretty sure it's just you falling 'outta the sky." soap chuckles, earning a lighthearted glare from gaz. you shush the two again and start towards the building, sticking to the shadows so as to avoid being spotted.

it takes no time at all to dispatch the guards surrounding the entrance, and soon you're methodically clearing out the ground floor alongside the sergeants. gaz takes point, whilst you stay in the middle and soap follows close behind. the enemy forces appear to be disorganized, you notice after moving up to the second level. they're wearing mismatched gear and using guns of vastly different origins; some even appear to speak different languages. you catch pieces of arabic and russian amidst the group, but what really shakes you is the english that you hear.

"are some of these fuckers american?" soap asks from behind you, looking over a tango he dropped moments prior.

"appears so," you mutter, examining another body near your feet. he wasn't wearing any sort of identification, so you had no way of figuring out what PMC he could be affiliated with. "they're not shadow company, at least. graves may be a bastard, but he's got his own vendetta against these guys."

"could be random mercenaries - guns for hire, y'know." gaz says with a shrug, clearly unconvinced of his own suggestion.

you hum, rising from your crouched position next to the body. "been seeing more of those popping up recently. wouldn't surprise me if al-qatala hired some of them as security." you refocus and motion for the two to get back in formation, nodding towards the stairs nearby.

"device should be on the sixth floor. let's pick up the pace."

the third and fourth floors are relatively the same: rooms full of randomly assorted, underprepared mercenaries that struggle to communicate with each other. you expected to find the same on the fifth floor, only to be stopped again by a peculiar logo taped above a set of office doors.

a snake skull with a sword. konni. you were aware of their presence in the city, even fighting some in this very building, but the logo stood out to you for some odd reason. with an affirmative nod sent to your teammates, you move to investigate it. at best, you'd find new intel about their operations, and at worst, you'd have another room to empty out.

upon opening the set of double doors and carefully entering, though, you come face-to-face with something far worse.

"holy fuck... is this all gas?" gaz mumbles, standing to your left.

the meeting room is filled floor-to-ceiling with gas containers, bright red barrels marked with konni's logo and cyrillic script plastered across their fronts. you take a closer look at the letters and, with the extremely limited knowledge of russian that you've gained from price and nikolai, manage to work out what they say.

"it's the same stuff zakhaev used in verdansk a few years ago," you glance towards the sergeants. you try to disguise your gradually creeping apprehension behind a firm look, rubbing the back of your neck as a bead of sweat rolls down into your shirt collar.

soap steps forward, taking a closer look at the stock. "wasn't zakhaev the one supplying it, though? i thought price took him out."

you sigh, wiping the sweat off your glove against the front of your thigh. "i think he had a supplier, but even if he was making it himself, that isn't stopping someone else from producing more. konni's probably buying it from whomever that is."

"wonder who that could be." gaz says, turning his attention to the large window at the far side of the room.

you open your mouth to reply, but soap beats you to it. "everyone in this situation is friends with makarov, right? price and laswell said he was gettin' active again."

the name sends an uneasy chill down your spine. you've never met the man yourself, but based on what price had to say about him, you're thankful you haven't. if he's working behind the scenes, than you need to be careful. any small mistake could end in disaster.

again, you try to respond, and again, you're interrupted. "uh– y'guys might want to look at this." gaz calls out over his shoulder.

your gaze turns to the sight outside that he was vaguely motioning towards. a bright light sits somewhere in the distance, quickly growing in size and luminosity. you squint, trying to figure out what the light could be coming from, until you remember laswell's warning.

the missile had fired.

"steamin' bloody jesus..." soap utters under his breath, snapping you back to the present.

"we need to find cover - fast!" you usher the two back from the glass and out of the room, sprinting down the stairs three steps at a time. although laswell didn't have much in the way of information, she did provide the team with a key piece of intel: there were bunkers constructed throughout the city, installed before the ballistic missile containers were offloaded in the area. one such bunker was located a short distance from the building you're currently in.

if you hurry, you might be able to make it.

as you descend, you can hear voices steadily drawing closer. gaz and soap hear it as well, and you all prepare your guns upon reaching the second floor.

as expected, there's a group waiting for you when you arrive. you take cover and try to thin out the crowd, but each second ticking by only serves to increase your level of impatience. eventually, you pull a flash grenade off your belt and toss it into the crowd, giving yourself and the sergeants a chance to finish off the remaining soldiers.

the three of you make another break for the exit. as the light outside the windows of the building grows blinding and a deafening explosion is heard, though, you wonder if you could have done something different. the floors above collapse and crash into your team, destroying the floors below you and knocking you off your feet.

somewhere in the chaos, your world goes dark.

⋆⋆⋆

when you come to, your head is spinning. there's a pounding in the back of your skull, muted thumps amidst the violent ringing in your ears. you blink away tears and dust, fighting to make your eyes focus as everything slowly falls into place around you.

you didn't make it to the bunker before the missile hit. gaz and soap are somewhere in this rubble with you - alive or dead, you're not sure. your body aches, muscles screaming at you as you try to move, forcing a pathetic wheezing cry from your lips.

after some struggle, you manage to turn your head to the left. laying several feet away is soap, covered in pieces of rubble and fighting to stay awake, blood pouring from an open wound on his head. farther away is gaz, desperately trying to get his leg free from under a broken metal beam. you call out to them, but all you can muster is a pained noise that leaves you coughing.

midafternoon sunlight beats down on you. price and ghost are somewhere else in the city, and you pray that they're still alive. it's all you can hope for at this point, considering your inability to move.

you hear voices drawing closer. heavy boots stomping through the sand and rubble, footsteps uniform yet distinct from one another. price, ghost, and your allies in the city immediately cross your mind, making you let out a relieved sigh.

when you look to your right, however, the silhouettes are distinctly different from what you expected to see. instead of your teammates, you see a group in familiar, yet unfamiliar, clothing and gear. you try to piece together what you recognize despite the fog in your brain.

when gaz's shout of your real name pierces your ears, it suddenly comes to you. pictures that price and laswell acquired from her global counterparts flood your mind, and you realize that you're looking at a group of ultranationalist soldiers. konni's leader and supplier, al-qatala's strongest ally, and the group that he leads with an iron fist.

ignoring the immense pain as a fresh wave of adrenaline courses through your system, you scramble for your sidearm. the last fight and the building collapse made you lose your rifle and drained you of most of your ammo, but you still had the bullet that you loaded into your handgun before the missile hit.

price's bullet.

one shot is all it should take.

you reach for your holster, but find nothing in its place. you frantically feel around the nearby area, searching for it, but still come up empty-handed. you lost your handgun in the crash and had nothing to defend yourself with. as the group nears, the reality of your situation dawns on you.

your luck had run out.

the leader of the pack blocks the harsh sunlight, casting shadows across your body as he stands over you. slowly, your eyes adjust to the change in light. you blink up at him, feeling a pang in your chest and a pit in your stomach form once his face becomes clear.

makarov.

taglist: @sofasoap, @rohansregret, @lonesome-doves, @roosterr (ty for being the reason i wrote this lol)

⋆ feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist!

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #makarov x reader #vladimir makarov x reader #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #sylph.writes

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