#I HATE HEAVY ACCENT SO MUCH

[prossima-nebulosa]

Talking about English I was watching infinity train cause someone mentioned it on twitter and somehow i found all episodes but they had no subtitles so i thought "well you know english, were is the issue?"

Apparently, the issue is that i'm so used to have subtitles on (in English) that i couldn't make out words that i knew because i couldn't discern the sounds.

It was quite hard, especially for those who had an accent and most of the script is pretty... well, it makes zero sense because it was all in context with whatever was going on in the car, so anyway this is what you get when you always rely on subtitles.

You focus too much on them instead of hearing what the fuck they're actually saying-

[13eyond13]

one of the lesser talked about fun things about intentionally reading more books is finding new stuff to be a bit of a hater about tbh

[trickortpwk]

Wait why were you in the hospital??

my ankles/feet were all swollen after our flight back home which is pretty normal but then the swelling wouldn't go fully down even after +12h and it was really hurting whenever i was lying down or sitting so i called the medical help hotline to see what they thought and the guy lich rally told me to go to the hospital asap bc it could be thrombosis which was absolutely the wrong thing to say to me, a hypochondriac 🫡 it's all good tho, the doc said my blood levels are better than his own lmao it's prob really just water retention, they gave me some pain meds and sent me back home

[mmeskywalker]

|| new years and blooming hearts

summary: you’re in pansy’s dorm getting ready to go to the slytherin new year’s eve party. only, you’re a hufflepuff… you arrive to the party and the tension between you and THEODORE NOTT is palpable; so palpable in fact that matteo and enzo decide to help a brother out (by making theodore so insanely jealous that he arrived to his breaking point.) through breathless laughter, cold stares and tough crowds, you find yourself by theo, oddly enough during the countdown til midnight.

word count: 6.6k+

a/n: this is lowercase intended. i just wanted to write about theodore nott/lorenzo zurzolo because he has me in a chokehold. also, i read a fic with a similar concept to this but i can’t find it. if anyone knows which fic i’m referring to, please tag the creator in the comments.

- please imagine theodore with an italian accent, thanks!!! 😓

warnings: italian!theo. jealous!theo. angsty. friends to lovers. slowburn. oblivious reader and theo (they’re both clearly in love). love confession. tension. heavy kissing. pansy x blaise.

6:00P.M.

“okay… so what i’m hearing is that you hate me and want me to die.” you flinched at the dress pansy held to your body, your nose twitching as you dramatically gagged.

it was yellow with black stripes, reminding you of the bee movie you had previously watched with her and your friends in the slytherin common room.

pansy was cackling beside you; her hair hanging low in her face as loud snorts tumbled from her nose. “no—no you have to hear me out,” she cackled. “it’s perfect! it’ll match your house and everything, baby.”

“you know what else is perfect?” your lips twitched into a malice smile.

“what?” she was still laughing, hardly able to contain herself as she ran her fingers through her hair.

grabbing your wand, you pointed it toward the dress. “evanesco!” you quickly shouted, a smirk now adorning your lips as the fabric disappeared from her grasp.

“you’re no fun,” she pouted, her laughter ceasing before giggles bubbled right back up again. “i’ll tell you what, i think i do have a dress for you to wear. trust me?” she asked, still giggling as she cocked her head to the side.

“i don’t know…” you teased, “are you going to pull out another bumblebee catastrophe?”

“no, i promise.” she interlocked her pinky with yours, the laughter finally dying down.

after a moment, you sat on her bed, your head leaning against the headboard as you waited for her to find what she was looking for in the mess she called ‘closet’.

your fingers danced around your wand, attempting to spin it around your unskilled grasp—only for it to end up dropping to your side. you blew out a stream of tense air. “have you found it yet?” you impatiently wailed.

“hold on,” she replied, annoyed.

after holding on for what felt like half an hour — two minutes max — she found the dress she was looking for

and it was beautiful.

it was a black dress with spaghetti straps that would clearly hug your body; long, plain, but gorgeous; just what you wanted.

“pans, it’s perfect.” you said, excitement rushing through your veins before it pained back down. well shit, you thought as your heart practically pounded in your chest.

tonight was the slytherin house party hosted to celebrate the new year. you’re a hufflepuff, a hufflepuff that managed to befriend the group of slytherin that everyone wanted but couldn’t become friends with. you knew most of the slytherin house disliked you, but your friends were feared, nobody dared to say too much about you to your face.

how sweet of them, you thought.

“yeah, it’s nothing special, but paired with a few gold accessories and your pretty face it’s going to look great!” pansy set the dress on the blanket beside you, her hands smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles before meeting your gaze. “woah— hey what’s wrong?” she asked.

“uh,” you stuttered, looking toward the dress once, twice, before making eye contact with her again. “nothing’s— wrong?” you said, clearly trying to convince yourself of that matter rather than her.

you weren’t too emotional, always being able to hold a strong ground, but you had your days; like most hufflepuff. you guessed that today was one of those days.

great.

“baby, what’s wrong?” pansy asked again, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “you know i’d never seriously make fun of you, right? you can talk to me,” she laughed softly, looking at you with an understanding gaze.

“it’s stupid.” you muttered, a smile creeping on your face despite the heavy turmoil in your chest. “i don’t even know if i should be going to this party… i don’t belong there.”

pansys brows furrowed. “whose making you feel like you don’t belong there?” she was upset, that of which you could tell.

“uh, everyone?” you responded as if it were as plain as day. “well, not you and our friends of course… but everyone else. they so-obviously don’t want me at their party, and i understand that; i mean, i’m a hufflepuff.”

pansy rolled her eyes. “screw them,” she said. “i want you there. matteo wants you there, enzo, draco, and blaise, all want you there.” her eyes glistened in the dim candlelighting, squinting as she drawled out her last sentence with an undeniable tease, “theo wants you there.”

pansy has known about your little crush on theo for years. it started in third year, when he began calling you that nickname you’ve just recently learned the meaning to: soffio.

it meant puff; a simple word that referred to your house, but it made your heart flutter.

he gave you that nickname

and it meant the world to you.

however, your delusions were just delusions. he didn’t know how much that name meant to you because he made it out of ridicule; a teasing ridicule, but ridicule at that.

“whatever,” you rolled you eyes, your thumb brushing away the singular tear rolling down your flushed cheek.

pansy smiled, getting out of bed, grabbing your hands to pull you off of the mattress as well. “you’re coming tonight,” she sing-songed. “and you don’t have a choice.”

7:30P.M.

"are you ready yet?!" pansy yelled against the bathroom door, pounding on it as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

your eyes shifted down the length of your body.

the dress looked just as good on as you imagined it would in your head, and if you were being honest, you're more-so holding her up to stare at yourself a little longer.

cocky, but whatever because you felt and looked amazing.

“one second!” you shouted, fluffing your hair up softly to make it look as if you ‘rolled out of bed’ in a perfect, flawless type way.

you could hear the sarcasm dripping from her tone as she counted, “one,” but you had already opened the door.

she looked stunning as well, wearing a long-sleeved, dark green dress with three gold rings forming a line down her slightly exposed chest.

“pansy, baby, you look so freaking pretty!” you squealed, your hands intertwined with hers mid-air as you both grinned at each other like overly-excited school girls. “me? oh my gosh, what about you?!” she said, her hands moving to your shoulders and rocking you gently as her eyes glistened. “you look so, so gorgeous, y/n!!!”

“i think theo’s going to have a mannerism,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“whatever,” you giggled.

. . . . . ╰──╮꒰ 🤍 ꒱ ╭──╯ . . . . .

8:00P.M.

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

two hundred slytherin and one hufflepuff,

but you’re only focused on six of them.

the six you felt safest around:

pansy parkinson (duh),

matteo riddle,

lorenzo berkshire,

(somehow) draco malfoy,

blaise zabini,

and theodore nott.

obviously, you didn’t walk in unnoticed.

matteo immediately sat up from the couch, making his way over to you as he watched you walk in with pansy. “funny seeing you here,” he teased, “how’s my favorite hufflepuff doing?” his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to kiss the top of your head.

“yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed him away. “and i’m okay, a little nervous, but i’m all good. y’know?”

“nervous?” matteo asked, cocking a brow.

you shot him a look and he quickly understood. “ah, no need to worry about them.” he promised, “they’ll be dealt with if they do anything.”

your forehead wrinkled slightly as you shot him a weary smile. “thanks.” you replied coolly, noticeably unsure of his intentions.

from across the room, theo’s eyes lit up, his frown transforming into a soft, bright smile as he made his way through the thick crowd to get to you. “soffio, you’re here.” his lips brushed against your hair, his arms wrapped around your head, pulling your cheek flat against his chest.

his italian accent was thick and heavy, harder to understand as his voice muffled into the depths of your hair, but you still felt a blush crawl over your flesh.

“theo—“ you muttered, your voice just as muffled as he pulled you even closer, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other threaded through your hair, “i thought you weren’t going to show up, bella, i was worried,” he then whispered.

matteo shot him a look.

“theo you’re crushing me!” you giggled, your hands crawling up his chest to create a little distance between the two of you.

his large hand gently caressed your cheek; four fingers stroking your jaw as his thumb lingered in its original place, now smiling as he pulled away. “mi dispiace,” he whispered before turning his attention to the friend making his way over.

"i'm surprised you showed up," blaise drawled, leaning against the wall with an amused smirk. "thought you'd run the other way once you heard who all was coming." despite his words, there was warmth in his gaze as it met yours, a spark of admiration glinting in their depths.

“oh, shut up,” pansy hit his side, rolling her eyes. “if you scare her away i’ll beat your ass,” she then whispered, eyes squinting as she playfully bit down on her words.

“relax, ma.” he chuckled, his hands falling to her hips, squeezing them gently as he leaned down to kiss her, “let’s go get a drink, yeah?”

“and that’s my cue to leave,” pansy playfully hit your thigh, shooting a quick glance to theo as if she knew something you didn’t, “don’t do too much without me.”

you shivered as you watched her walk away, your mind racing at what she could have meant; knowing her, it could be anything.

draco entered the room then, scanning the gathering with a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. he hesitated when he spotted you surrounded by the others, finally shrugging as if it wouldn't bother him either way before striding over. "y/l/n," he greeted coolly, shooting a smug look at matteo and theodore. "happy almost new year."

you wrinkled your nose at draco, a playful challenge lighting up in your eyes. "happy almost new year to you too, malfoy."

lorenzo approached last, his gaze taking in the group with a slow appraisal before he settled on you. there was something unreadable lurking behind his dark eyes, a mixture of surprise and a slight hint of desire. "quite the turnout," he murmured.

weird, you thought.

"aye, quite the turnout," matteo replied, chuckling softly as he placed a hand on lorenzo's shoulder. there was a brief moment of tension between them as they glanced toward you and theo, a silent understanding passing between the two of them before both men simply let it slide.

what seemed to you as theo ignoring their odd behavior, he turned to face everyone, clapping his hands together. "ah," he grinned, his voice full of mirth. "glad you decide to join us, lorenzo." theo patted his side.

lorenzo grinned, patting theo’s side in return, “wouldn’t wanna be here with anyone else.” he replied before looking toward the brunette woman he felt eyeing him down. “except maybe her,” he then smirked.

you heard matteo sigh, muttering a series of curse words as draco snickered beside him.

“whore,” draco spoke as if his commentary were a compliment, but lorenzo was too busy undressing the girl with his eyes to notice.

“well go up to her,” you groaned, rolling your eyes teasingly as you pushed him away from the circle. “don’t be a puss; drinking her up from afar is an unattractive trait, berkshire.”

he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. “oh, you’re in for it later,” he chuckled. “wish me luck, love.”

‘good luck,’ you mouthed as he began to walk toward the girl, the tension in the room shifting.

theo scowled at lorenzo, three fingers rubbing against his thumb as matteo teasingly brushed the italian’s side. “chill,” he whispered, a shady smile playing on his lips.

“do not tell me to chill,” theo’s voice rose. “i am chill, no need to tell me to chill if i am already.”

your brows furrowed slightly, confused as to why theo snapped so suddenly. “everything okay?” you asked, your thumb rubbing soothing circles against his bicep before he blew out a sigh.

“yes, soffio,” he shakily assured, finding the hand you placed on his bicep, sliding it into his palm, and kissing your knuckles gently. “i’m— i’m okay.”

matteo grinned brightly as an idea struck his mind. “alcohol, anyone?”

8:30P.M.

you were trying not to spill your drink as you made your way back through the crowd. yeah, you were wearing a black dress, so you guessed that a stain wouldn’t really matter… but you still hated the feeling of wet fabric against your skin.

“ow,” you muttered as you bumped into matteo’s chest. don’t worry, you did not spill your beverage.

you were about to apologize until you noticed lorenzo standing beside him, now turning to stand behind you. your brows furrowed to the bridge of your nose. staring at them intensely, you asked, “uh, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

“we’re going to help you out, girlfriend,” matteo smirked, his eyes a dangerous game, his tone slithering directly into one ear then finding its way out the next.

“like i said,” you scowled. “uh, what?”

“do you want a new years kiss or not?” lorenzo asked, his palm finding your waist to keep you steady as you tried to walk away.

you slapped his hand. “not from you, berkshire.” you spat.

“obviously not from me, idiot.” he rolled his eyes. “from theodore.”

your eyes lit.

matteo cocked his brow, “there might be one before new years though if he doesn’t crack.”

this time, you did spill your drink—a little of the liquid dripping from the rim of your cup as your hand jerked forward. “what are you talking about, matty?” your voice dripped with disgust as you then slapped lorenzo’s hand away from your waist, “and let go of me.”

“do you like theodore or not?” matteo asked, clearly annoyed.

“none of the bullshit either, sweetheart.” lorenzo dragged. “everyone can tell you’re crazy about the guy, there’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

“you know what they say…new year, new confessions.” matteo cocked a brow, waiting for you to come clean.

you huffed, the need to correct him strong as you rolled your eyes. “they don’t say that,” you said, but you were now looking toward the ground… “okayyesiliketheo,” you muttered.

“what was that?” lorenzo asked, a teasing smile apparent on his lips. “one more time for me, love?”

“yes; merlin, yes, okay! i like theo,” you bit in a faint yet deadly whisper. “what do you want from me? a cookie?”

matteo smirked, looking around before taking a step closer to you, “atta girl.” he said, “enzo and i’ve been thinking,” - “not a good sign.” - “girl, shut up. we were thinking and we know a way to get theo to confess his feelings.”

before you could ask how, you felt lorenzo’s proximity come closer as well. “he’s protective over you, that we all know.”

you couldn’t necessarily see enzo roll his eyes, but you could hear the eye roll in his tone.

“we’re going to make him jealous.” matteo added.

lorenzo nodded, “precisely.”

he stumbled, his palms brushing down his white suit before glancing over at matteo. then, he turned around to wink at you playfully. "oh, you're in for it later," he chuckled. "wish me luck, love."

'good luck, you mouthed.

“see, you were playing along before you even realized.” matteo nudged your shoulder playfully and you finally laughed, easing up a bit.

“you really think this is going to work?” you asked, a little unsure of the whole situation.

to that, lorenzo scoffed. “i know it’s going to work.” he stated. “darling, theo is head over heels for you; you’re all he talks about. let’s just consider this to be theo’s wake up call.”

9:00P.M.

you’re now wineless.

you downed three cup-fulls of the substance to take your mind off the fact you’re sitting on lorenzo berkshire’s lap at a party; a guy you’ve always thought of as a brother.

“i’m sorry.” he whispered against the side of your head, “i know how uncomfortable this may be for you.”

“not uncomfortable,” you responded, your head now resting against his shoulder, and that was the truth. you weren’t uncomfortable, “this is just different.”

he nodded, his gaze lingering on theo’s hand as he watched his knuckles turn white around a glass. “somebodies getting angry,” enzo chuckled. theo never contemplated anything when it came to you, must be the italian in him well, except maybe when it came to confessing his feelings. you watched as he began to walk toward the two of you. “prepare yourself, love.” enzo then warned.

“lorenzo,” theodore smiled, a forced smile, one that laid heavy on his chest. “how about you come on a walk with me, yeah? i want to speak with you privately.”

his eyes found yours—they were heavy and disappointed. your heart sank further, but you only held onto lorenzo a little tighter.

“woah, heyyy, what’s going on here?” matteo quickly intervened, gently patting theo on the back as he looked at you and lorenzo. “i didn’t know you two were a thing!” matteo sounded astonished, his mouth dropping as he chuckled. “theo, buddy, isn’t this wonderful news?”

the scowl on theodore’s face was apparent as he muttered, “considerati fortunata, puttana,” (consider yourself lucky, whore.) under his breath, but he quickly nodded. “yeah, such great and—wonderful news, mio amico.”

“you think?” lorenzo smirked, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before kissing your neck, cheekily staring at theodore as your hand entangled into his brunette hair.

theodore’s eyes darkened as he sipped his alcohol, an angry noise bubbling from his throat. “yep.” he bit, “it’s fucking wonderful.”

“now that’s good sportsmanship.” matteo rubbed theo’s back before continuing. “hey! i have an idea. why don’t we go dancing? how does that sound, lovebirds!”

you slid off lorenzo’s lap and he was quick to follow suite, his arm sliding around your hipbone, pressing your back against his chest. he had to be strongly willed because the way theodore’s gaze burned through his skull wasn’t easy to ignore.

at least you couldn’t ignore it.

it made you sick to your stomach.

theo set his glass on the table. “you do that—i’m going for a smoke.”

9:30P.M.

theo didn’t go outside to smoke.

instead, he was leaned against a wall, a cigarette planted between his parted lips as his eyes stuck to yours like glue; watching you dance against lorenzo rather than him.

you decided not to make eye contact with theodore because if you did you’d end up stopping the plan right then and there.

“enzo,” you muttered, your gaze struggling to stay on the ground as his chin rested on your head, swaying to the music with his hands on your waist. “hmm?” he hummed.

“could you, um,” you stuttered, your eyes fluttering to theodore’s and immediately regretting it. “turn me around.”

he nodded, his gaze now facing theodore’s pained one as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck to comfort yourself. in return, he gave you a squeeze. “i know how hard this is for you, love,” he whispered, “but trust me, it’s going to be worth it.”

“are you sure?” you asked, your mind beginning to race. “because he hasn’t done anything other than stare. i mean, who stares at the person they supposedly have a crush on as they dance with your best friend?…oh my merlin,” you muttered, reality hitting you. “i’m dancing with his best friend.”

you tried to back away but lorenzo’s grip tightened around you, “y/n.”

“i’m going to hell,” you continued. “this is it for me. i’m literally the worst person alive. hell. that’s my future. h. e. double hockey stic—“

enzo squeezed your hips, signaling that he’s about to kiss you. “now?!” you shouted in an angry whisper. lorenzo nodded, his eyes darting toward theodore’s again, watching as he began to make his way over.

“now.” he confirmed and your stomach backflipped.

a hand came to your cheek, lorenzo’s thumb covering your mouth as he kissed that rather than you; to the unassuming eye, the kiss was passionate, stomach hurling curling.

any girl would die to kiss lorenzo berkshire; slytherin’s number one heart throb.

just not you.

but boy did you put on a show.

theodore stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching forward as a communication indicator but falling back to his side in defeat. he turned back around.

good thing you didn’t see that because you would’ve chased after him, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him passionately; not his fucking best friend.

10:30P.M.

you were comfortable dancing with lorenzo when theodore’s eyes weren’t burning through the two of you; laughing as his hands ghosted over your hips, dancing to the music as friends rather than ‘lovers’.

you almost forgot about the whole plan.

“thought that she… was with theo.” a slytherin you didn’t recognize commented.

“must be a pass around.” another smirked, and your heart sank even further.

you stepped away from lorenzo, emotions stirring as you made eye contact with the group talking about you.

their commentary came to an end as you watched matteo approach them in your peripheral vision. you didn’t hear much bickering after that, but regardless, your vision began to blur.

looking around, you noticed everyone staring at you, and you took another step back.

“hey— hey!” lorenzo was close to you again.

“what?” you bit. “this whole thing, this whole plan is stupid and i want to stop.”

“y/n.” he chuckled, looking around awkwardly, trying to place his arms around you waist but you smacked him hard in the chest, sending him slightly backward.

a small gasp tumbled from his parted lips.

you didn’t shout, but your voice graveled as you continued to walk into him. “i’m.” you hit him again. “not.” again. “doing.” again. “this.” and again. “anymore!”

but his arms stayed around you.

“i want to stop!” you were crying now, going limp against his chest as your throat burned. “please, please let me stop, enz… please.”

enzo drug a hand to your lower back, doing what he knew he needed to do. “don’t worry. i’ll go find pansy.” he whispered before kissing your temple.

10:45P.M.

“pans,” you cried, your mascara staining your cheeks as you burried yourself in her arms. “this was a mistake—i shouldn’t have agreed to their stupid plan.”

“hey,” she whispered, her fingers gently massaging your scalp. “we’ve all fallen for their antics before, don’t blame yourself too badly, honeybee.”

you shot her a look and she cocked her head, smiling empathetically, “not the time?”

“i’ll tell you what,” she whispered again, casting a small spell to rid the mascara from your cheeks before pulling your shoulders back to look you in the eye. “don’t leave. give it until midnight like planned, and if it goes wrong…” pansy took her phone out, a recording of both matteo and lorenzo stopping you earlier to explain the plan playing on screen.

she then smirked, “i’ll show him this.”

“when did you take that?” you asked, your fingers trailing down the length of the phone before looking at her skeptically; eyes still swollen.

her gaze shifted toward the ground, “let’s just say i was um… in on the whole thing…”

“don’t worry, though.” she says, brushing the final tear on your cheek away with the base of her thumb as she smiled. “they came to me so things wouldn’t get all fucked up… they care about you y/n, and they care about theodore, they don’t want to ruin this thing you have with him, okay?”

you nod, and she hugs you one last time before you have to go and find lorenzo.

11:00P.M.

“you seem tense, y/l/n,” draco found you before you found lorenzo.

his gaze drifted toward theodore, who was currently yelling at matteo—who was currently yelling at matteo. draco’s eye widened, astonished at the sight laid before him, “and i think i know why.”

“no, no, no, fuck!” you shouted, about to run toward them before the pair of hands you’d become so acquainted with today found your waist a-fucking-gain.

“do not.” enzo spat. “just be patient.”

draco raised his brows, clearly not even wanting to know as he silently left the scene.

“he’s going to kill him!” you shouted, struggling in his grasp, “let. me. GO.”

enzo rolled his eyes, “has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn little asshole?”

you paused for a moment. “hm, yes,” you nodded. now let me go.”

he held on tighter.

11:15P.M.

“no, no , no,” theodore’s fingers ran through his hair, “what is he doing to her, matteo? he shouldn’t be dancing with her like—like that! she’s a lady!”

theodore wasn’t yelling at matteo, his movements made it look as if he were upset, but he wasn’t. well… not at matteo at least.

matteo, being such a good friend, was letting theodore rant to him about how much he valued you and your friendship.

otherwise known as: matteo wanted to milk theo to his breaking point.

“dancing with her like what?” matteo asked, staring at you and lorenzo as he swayed and rocked his hips against yours. “seems to me like they’re having a little fun, if you know what i mean.” he winked playfully.

“jokester.” theodore drawled, pushing his shoulder. “i don’t like seeing her with him.”

matteo cocked his brow, “yeah and why’s that, buddy?” his head tilted to the side, “are you… jealous?”

theo looked astounded, immediately shaking his head in denial. “no, of course not.” he said, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of red as his anger grew palpable. “but she shouldn’t be here with that imbecille.”

“here we go again,” matteo rolled his eyes, groaning. “you never think anyone is right for her, dude. you have to give it a break.”

“a break,” theo threw his hand flat out in front of him, his forearm horizontal against his stomach. he drew it out, creating an invisible line. “she disserves someone that respects her, not a man like lorenzo.”

becoming harder to contain himself, matteo raised a brow at theo. "you mean deserves?” he grinned, continuing to drawl, “and who says he isn't the one for her?"

theo appeared as if he were on the verge of snapping. that caused matteo to chuckle, clasping his hands together as he grinned. “aw, what’s wrong, theo?” he playfully pouted, “you don’t like seeing them together? you poor, poor thing,” he puffed his lips. “guess you can’t do anything about it now.”

theo's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched as he glared at matteo. "this isn’t right," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "that boy is not good for her, and you know it."

matteo raised his hands in mock surrender, stepping back from theo. "whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "i’m just messing with you. I know you care about her, but you can't control who she chooses to be with."

theo's gaze never left matteo, but he slowly relaxed his posture, his anger simmering down. "don’t mess with me right now, matteo," he warned, his voice still tense. "this is y/n we’re talking about; that boy will corrupt her!”

matteo shrugged, a smirk still playing on his lips. "maybe she likes the bad boys," he teased, gesturing toward you and lorenzo. "maybe she's into a little danger and excitement."

theo scoffed, muttering a curse under his breath. matteo raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to his friend, his tone becoming serious.

“you love her, buddy.” he said softly, his words filled with gentle understanding, “i know you do; trust me, i’ve seen the way you’ve looked at her since first year. just talk to her.”

the moment stretched thinly between them, theo's face twisting with an agonizing mix of emotions. things became tense, and both men glanced over to where you and lorenzo danced in the distance.

“i need a drink,” theo muttered.

11:30P.M.

“this sucks,” you groaned, looking at lorenzo only to find that his gaze is back on the brunette girl from earlier. you watched him, rolling your eyes before taking that chance to slip away.

music blared throughout the common room, it was upbeat and happy, but your focus drifted toward the window as you sat on the ledge.

you could feel the weather seeping through the glass, a gentle coldness caressing your cheeks as you took a deep breath in.

you sighed heavily, rubbing your temples with your fingertips, trying to clear your thoughts as you stared out into the misty night. winter breezes blew through the open windows, accompanied by the distant sounds of laughter resounding from behind you, but for some reason, you couldn't enjoy yourself.

a part of you longed to rejoin the festivities, while another wished for escape entirely. lost in thought, time seemed to blur until suddenly, draco’s voice startled you from your own thoughts.

"i wasn't aware the fireplace emitted such an enticing scent." he commented dryly, leaning casually against the window frame beside you. "or did you just need another excuse to avoid lorenzo back there?"

you repeated, "an excuse," you blew out a string of air, turning to look at draco with a raised eyebrow. "or maybe i just needed a break from the chaos."

draco smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "chaos?" he echoed, leaning back against the window frame. "i thought you enjoyed these kinds of gatherings."

you shrugged, looking back out into the night. "sometimes," you admitted, "but not when i'm stuck in the middle of a bunch of drama."

draco's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. "don’t be too hard on yourself, y/l/n," he said softly, his tone more serious now. "you're just trying to figure things out, like the rest of us."

you hesitated, biting your lip as you considered his words; words that you never thought you’d hear from him. "maybe," you murmured, glancing back at him. "but it's hard when everyone else seems to have it all figured out."

draco's gaze softened, and he reached out to gently take your hand in his. "we all have our moments, y/n," hemumbled. "don't fall through to others. just focus on what makes you happy."

his eyes flicked toward the party, a hint of sympathy in his gaze. "trust me, even the most confident among us struggle on occasion. and that includes myself." he added, smirk reappearing briefly.

you sighed, examining his hand holding yours, his grip firm yet comforting.

"it's hard to believe sometimes," your fingers curled around his, returning the pressure. "everything's getting complicated."

"maybe," draco mused, "and that's alright. life would be boring without consequences and complications." he smiled, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes.

for the first time, you felt a pang of pity for him- not because he was malfoy, but because he was human.

draco’s eyes drew over yours, then they glanced toward theodore who was cocking his head in your direction. the boy seemed to follow you everywhere, not letting you get too far when anyone approached you.

“i better get out of here before your real boyfriend starts to think i want any trouble,” draco chuckled.

you looked up at him, "what?" he waved, his brows angled in an amused position as he grinned. "i'll see you later," he chuckled.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering between draco and theo, who was still watching you from afar. you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for this whole evening.

"yeah, see you later," you murmured, pulling your hand away from draco's and standing up.

draco nodded, his smirk never wavering. "don't let theo get too jealous now," he teased before turning and disappearing back into the party.

you watched draco walk away, a mix of amusement and confusion playing on your face. you couldn't help but feel a little flustered by his teasing, but you also couldn't deny that he had a point.

11:45P.M.

you looked up at the clock, contemplating on whether or not to just go back to your dorm. you were tired of pretending, and it wasn’t like enzo was coming back to you anytime soon. he had that girl pressed against the wall, his lips violently sucking the sweet spot under her jaw, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“fifteen minutes til new years,” an overhead announced, “head outside for the firework show, or don’t, whatever!”

their voice was cocky, but it caused you to finally crack a smile as you headed toward the door. you weren’t going to mope, but you also weren’t going to bother your friends who were clearly busy with their lovers or one-night stands.

the music was still loud outside, blaring messages from her by sabrina claudio through the speakers as you stood by a fountain.

sitting on the ledge, you watched the water, the stillness of it causing you to relax.

somewhere behind you, you heard footsteps crunching on gravel and snow. slowly, you turned to see theodore walking toward you hunched down into his coat.

his eyes met yours and a sympathetic look crossed his features. "i couldn't stay away," he whispered, further approaching until he was sitting on the ledge next to you.

though it pained you, you smiled at him, wanting to say a million things but you voice falling flat as he shifted around nervously.

“you must be freezing,” he then commented, pretending to just now notice your spaghetti strapped dress as he slid out of his jacket, shrugging it off his shoulders and carefully draping it over yours.

"thank you, theo." you murmured, wrapping the familiar fabric of his jacket around you, the scent of him clinging to it.

theo glanced away, his jaw tightening before he spoke again, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"happy new year, soffio," he said cautiously, focusing his attention back on the fountain.

you mirrored his gaze, feeling a tear pool in your eye. your throat burned as you swallowed. "happy new year," you whispered back, hesitating before tentatively reaching out to grasp his hand.

theo's features softened, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "is it true," he asked quietly, casting a quick glance your way, then looking back sharp to the water.

your breathing hitched, swallowing the lump in your throat. "is what true, theo," you whispered, fixing your gaze on his profile.

“you and lorenzo,” he replied, the sentence like poison on his tongue.

you held back a small breath, shaking your head vigorously. "no," you managed after a heavy exhale.

"then why did you leave me to be with him earlier?" theo questioned stiffly, his own whisper evaporating in the chilled air. you closed your eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

his grip on your hand tightened, though you didn't pull away.

"it's not like that," you mumbled, struggling with your emotions. "it’s complicated..."

your voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding your judgement.

“so tell me, y/n!” theodore’s voice rose, now holding both of your hands, turning you to look him in the eye. “devi dirmelo. (you have to tell me) i can’t take it— i need you to tell me what’s going on between you and lorenzo. is- is he or is he not your lover?”

you watched his eyes plead with you, the desperation washing away some of your fear and anxiety. “it wasn’t real,” you stammered, your voice just as loud. “none of it; the kiss, the dancing, the whole relationship.”

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself for the conversation that was about to unfold. "okay?” you shakily muttered, meeting his gaze. "that whole thing was to get us together."

theo's eyes widened, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. "what?" he whispered, clearly taken aback by your confession.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i know it sounds crazy, but i wanted to be with you, theo. they told me this would make you ask me out—” you cringed at your sentence, “if you don’t believe me pansy has the whole video."

your voice trembled, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "i'm sorry, i never meant to hurt you."

theo stared at you for a long moment, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and hurt. "why would you do that, soffio?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “make me jealous so i’d get with you? bella…”

your eyes welled up with unshed tears, your voice catching as you spoke. "i was scared," you admitted. "scared that you wouldn't see me the same way, scared to ruin our friendship... scared that you wouldn't-"

a sob echoed from your chest, causing you to falter.

"sorry, i'm so sorry, " you breathed, burying your face into his shoulder.

as the realization washed over theodore's face, his embrace around you tightened. "va tutto bene," (it’s okay) he whispered, a catch in his voice as he stroked your hair repeatedly. "soffio, i have loved you for so long. i despised seeing you with him tonight.”

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for truth. "you... you love me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

theo nodded, his eyes filled with sincerity. "always, bella, but i never thought you saw me the same way."

you bit your lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "i'm sorry, theo," you murmured, leaning back into his embrace. "i should have told you sooner."

"it's okay," he reassured you, his arms tightening around you. "we can start fresh now. no more games, no more pretending."

you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "i'd like that," you whispered, your eyes closing as you rested your head on his shoulder.

the countdown to midnight began over the speakers, the music dying down as people waited for the new year. “come here,” he whispered, a hand placed on your waist, positioning you to straddle his lap as he rested both palms on your hips.

you hesitated for a moment, but then slowly shifted your weight, wrapping your legs around him as he guided you.

“tell me you want this, bella,” he whispered, one palm gently squeezing your hip as the other came to caress your cheek.

with a subtle smile, you leaned in toward him, whispering into his ear. "i want this, theo," you confirmed.

his adam's apple bobbed, his thumbs tracing lazy circles on your lower lip. you closed your eyes, feeling his breath tickling against your skin. there was anticipation on his expression, almost palpable.

as the countdown reached zero, the music swelled, and fireworks exploded in the sky, theo’s palms guided your face in anticipation, tasting you the way he’d dreamed of for years as his lips danced softly, gracefully against yours.

you shivered against him, relishing in the warmth of his embrace as your happiness leaked into every corner of your being.

this moment was different, liberating. his touch, intimate, and sincere.

“bella,” he whispered sweetly, resting his forehead against yours, “don’t you try and win my affection again, understood? it’s yours; it always will be yours.”

you laughed, kissing the tip of his nose as you closed your eyes, “okay, okay. i got it.”

his laughter grew with yours, his head falling to your neck as he softly kissed the delicate skin under your ear, “happy new year, soffio.” he then whispered, twirling a strand of your hair around his finger.

“happy new year, theo.”

[a-pute11as]

caught - alexia putellas

first time doing this so it's a short one. r gets caught staring at alexia in the gym. based on this godly picture.

words - 727

“you’re staring at her again” cata rolled her eyes at my behaviour. we were in the middle of a gym session and i was meant to be spotting her as she did a chest press. meant. yet my focus was much further away than making sure cata didn’t drop a heavy set of weights on her. 

i watched as one of her arms extended upwards and the other lay across her stomach. her muscles prominently pressing against her training top as she continued her set. i watched as her face tensed after every movement, with small grunts leaving her lips as she continued. the way her veins popped out across her hands, highlighting her perfect hands whilst drawing attention to her toned arms. 

“i’m not staring” i said, shaking my head as i looked over at cata, tearing my eyes away from the sight clearly sent from heaven. 

“you’re literally drooling” she laughed whilst continuing the exercise i should’ve been paying attention too. 

i quickly ran my hand across my mouth, making sure she was joking.

“not funny, i don’t drool” i said rolling my eyes as we switched positions for me to begin doing the required exercises. 

“hm, you do when you sleep” she said, shaking her head at my dismissal. 

“one time catalina! that was one time!” i defended, raising my voice whilst trying not to gain too much attention. 

i finished my set before switching with cata again. i stood up again, my eyes instantly traveling to alexia. i knew i shouldn’t but couldn’t stop myself, not with the way her sweat glistened in the fluorescent lights. 

and then her eyes met mine. my cheeks instantly flashed a bright red colour as she looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a smug smirk. she knew exactly what i was doing, and i wasn’t going to hear the end of it. 

i quickly looked away as i diverted my attention back to cata, “i have a problem” i said, fanning myself with my hand to give me some kind of relief from the heat that was spreading across my body. 

“don’t i know it, it’s like your eyes are permanently glued to her” she said, finishing her set and standing up to join me. 

“no, i’m being serious, ale caught me staring at her, like really caught me, like she looked me dead in the eyes” i whispered, rubbing my hand against my temple. 

she was instantly hunched over laughing, and not quietly, meaning suddenly a lot of eyes were on us. 

“catalina thomas coll lluch, shut the fuck up” i aggressively whispered punching her arm in hopes she’d stop. 

the laughing continued as my face began to develop an even deeper shade of red. 

“i can’t believe she caught you” she managed to get out in between her ridiculously loud laughter. 

i covered both my hands with my face in hopes the embarrassment would disappear. 

“who caught you?” a thick catalan accent appeared behind me, an accent that i knew incredibly well, an accent belonging to the person who just caused me to go as red as possible. 

my hands instantly dropped to my side as i spun round to meet her face.

“no one, she’s just talking about a show we were watching” i explained, lies spilling out of my mouth to somehow hide the embarrassment i was feeling, “she clearly finds it very funny, when it definitely isn’t” i added, giving cata the straightest expression i possibly could. 

“well, if you two are done, could you come spot me?” alexia said, directly a seemingly innocent smile appearing on her face, yet i knew that was a cover for a very cocky grin. i couldn’t believe she was doing this on purpose at this point. 

“oh of course! we just finished” cata said, her laughter instantly disappearing whilst being replaced with an exaggerated smile, as she pushed me closer to alexia by my shoulder. 

“thank you cata, i’ll go easy with her” alexia winked at cata, as she began walking over to her next piece of equipment. 

before joining her i quickly shot cata a strong glare, “i hate you, so so so much” i whispered. 

“try not to stare” i heard her snigger back, which caused me to simply raise my middle finger at her causing the laughing fit to reappear. 

[mickandmusings]

indifferent

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader

word count: 2.4k

summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt

based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'

-

As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.

She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.

Jake fucking Seresin.

Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.

Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.

"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."

Fuck me now.

She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.

"What do you want, Seresin?"

His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."

"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."

He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Not too worried about it, not really interested."

Yeah, I bet.

"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."

Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.

"You look good tonight."

She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.

"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."

Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.

"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."

She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.

"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"

He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"

As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.

"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"

"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."

She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"

They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.

"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."

Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.

"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."

She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.

"You wish, asshole."

"Yeah, I do."

His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.

"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."

"Y-You don't mean that."

Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.

"Don't mean what?"

He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.

"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."

She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.

"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."

She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.

"No."

His voice is firm, demanding.

"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"

His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.

"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."

She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.

"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"

"Would you have listened?"

She already knew the answer to that.

"No."

He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.

"So, what does this mean?"

Jake shrugs.

"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."

The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.

She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.

"And if I do want you like you want me?"

He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.

"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."

In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.

"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."

Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.

"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"

His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.

"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."

She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.

"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"

Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.

"You sure about this?"

She nods, she'd never been more sure.

"I need your words, baby."

God, this man was going to kill her.

"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."

In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.

"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."

He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.

"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."

She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.

"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."

Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.

"Bradley, maybe?"

She shrugs.

"Yeah, maybe, why?"

"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"

She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.

"Yeah, why?"

Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.

"What?"

Jake grins.

"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."

She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.

"You won't lose me, not again."

-

[inuyashaluver]

Hi lovely I love ur stuff 🩷 I have a little request/idea - obviously feel free to ignore it

I was thinking R has a really thick accent (English - either Scouse (Liverpool), Geordie (Newcastle) or West Country (Devon/Somerset/Farmer) or Aussie or something really thick like hard to understand from native speakers let alone anyone else) but R plays in Barca and has a crush on a Spanish player (Maybe Patri? maybe Ona? Maybe Alexia?) and is tryna talk to them more and maybe ask them out but they just get looked at funny and they walk off and she goes to Kiera and Lucy and is like what have I done? Do they all hate me? And [Crush] overheads them and goes round to their house after training and is like I really wanna get to know u, I think you’re really pretty etc but I cannot understand a word that comes out of ur mouth to the point where I am questioning whether it’s English

qué? - alexia putellas

alexia putellas x reader

description: in which your accent proves to be difficult to understand

warnings: LONG!! swearing, misunderstandings, spanish in bold italics

a/n: i love this woman, your honour!! i was writing alexia angst but had to put out the fluff haha!! thank you so much for the love and request, lovely!! ily and enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you never thought your accent would get you into trouble but you were entirely wrong. and we’re not talking about trouble like criminal, we’re talking romantically.

—

you’re from liverpool, your thick, scouse accent distinct in your dialect. at home in england, the accent was understood most of the time, with an occasional person asking for clarification about your words but you didn’t mind.

even some of your england teammates had to ask you to repeat yourself occasionally when you got overly excited or stressed, your accent proving to be the hardest to understand at those moments.

you often needed a translator for even native english speakers if you spoke too quickly, lucy and later grace helping out when people were truly confused.

when lucy and keira moved from manchester city, you moved with them, having played in the club for 2 years and desperately wanting a change. and so, when the contract arrived from barcelona for the three of you, you accepted it without a second thought.

you had supported barcelona in liga F, having a huge appreciation for the way the spanish players moved, the quick passes and the goals that came out of nowhere. you were excited to pick up those skills to adapt to your own play.

and through your extensive research, you grew a special appreciation for alexia. in your eyes, alexia was the definition of perfect, not only her football skills, but her as a whole.

you would watch her interviews and videos for ‘research purposes’, claiming it was to practise your spanish. and it was, until you zoned out hearing the gentle hum of alexia’s voice, getting distracted entirely but you weren’t complaining.

when you got caught making heart eyes at your phone during england camp, the teasing was so relentless it wasn’t even funny.

—

“our little (y/n) has a crush on la reina! (the queen)” lucy exclaims in the change room, you immediately turn off your phone and look up at her with an icy glare, only making her smile at you affectionately with a pinch to your cheek that you were quick to swat away.

“you’re not much older than me” you glare, “5 years is 5 years” she shrugs, moving away when you launched an empty bottle at her.

“go on, tell us about your crush” leah smiles, millie and rachel pretend to kiss each other while looking at you and you heat up in the cheeks.

“i’m only watching so i can pick up spanish” you defend, lucy laughs loudly, out of the three transfers, she was definitely the one who picked up the most spanish.

“excuse me, lucia, and everyone in here,” you scoff, “is it such a crime to watch a video of my future captain?” your accent was so heavy at this point, everyone cracked a little smile at you.

“so you were watching videos of alexia then?” leah smirks, you let out a frustrated groan, “leah, shut up man” everyone laughs, the teasing continuing until keira and alessia told everyone to stop.

during the whole of camp, it wasn’t uncommon you got caught looking at photos or videos of alexia, the teasing was so bad you thought you would explode.

—

when the time finally came for you to join barcelona, you were incredibly nervous. the fear of underperforming playing on your mind, only becoming worse at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of a certain blonde you couldn’t take your mind off.

lucy and keira assured you everything would be fine, but you weren’t convinced, unsure of how you’d react when you finally saw alexia.

when you all walked to the change rooms, it was shocking how welcoming everyone was. hugs and kisses to the cheeks had you feeling so accepted amongst your new team.

and funnily enough, the last person to greet you was alexia, sending you a charming smile that had your stomach erupting with butterflies.

“(y/n), yes? bienvenida! (welcome)” alexia grins, her arms pulling you into a warm hug, her scent enveloping you and making you borderline dizzy.

“(y/n) is a big fan of you” lucy teases as alexia lets you slip from the hug after you mumble a quick hello. alexia gives a surprised smile, looking between a cheeky looking lucy and a sheepish looking you.

“you’re very good, too, I look forward to playing with you,” alexia’s hand moved to give your bicep a gentle squeeze and you swore your heart stopped, your cheeks were tinged with pink and you could barely formulate a sentence.

“yeah, i’m excited to play with ya” you breathe out, you move to your new cubby and get changed into the barcelona kit, feeling at home already even though it was your first day.

due to you busying yourself with avoiding alexia, you missed the way her gaze lingered on you as you changed, she was intrigued by you.

what you didn’t know was alexia had done her own forms of research. she had heard your name countless times in the media, a rising star in the making.

she respected the way you played, a midfielder who wasn’t afraid to take risks but also managed to avoid fouls frequently.

she wanted to get to know you as much as you wanted to get to know her.

—

weeks and months fly by and it was easy to say you felt comfortable amongst the team. your spanish was surprisingly getting better, being able to go through training without a translator most of the time.

the girls reciprocated you well, you’d go to team bonding nights and laugh and joke around with them. it was obvious to everyone except alexia that you were harbouring a crush on the captain.

the ways your eyes would follow her every move with pink cheeks honestly exposed yourself. and what made it harder was that alexia and you were growing closer each day.

—

one day you were chatting with mapi and ingrid, more like you getting teased while you begged them to stop before you were interrupted by a certain someone.

“do you want to be my partner?” alexia questions from behind you suddenly, making you choke on your own spit as she looked at you with a kind smile. “really?” you breathe out, she nods, nodding her head to the pitch for you to follow her.

you’d both been able to converse easily as the months went by, she’d have to ask you to slow down a couple of times when you both talked about something you had in common but it worked.

as you both trained together, you chatted and laughed, talking about random topics.

when you both got to shooting practice, alexia analysed your every move. she would give little nods of approval when you touched the ball, sending you an encouraging smile if you made eye contact, your heart was fluttering around her.

“you should put more weight into your hips when you kick” alexia corrects, you look at her questioningly, she huffs out a little laugh and comes to stand behind you.

her large hands place themselves on your hips and she turns them slightly to the front. her front was pressed against your back and you certainly weren’t breathing. she noticed you tense but chose to ignore it.

“focus here before you kick so it’s stronger” alexia says next to your ear, squeezing your hips gently before letting go of you. “try again, vamos! (let’s go)” she exclaims, you do as she says with her corrections and it was a much better result.

she smiles proudly, “buena niña! (good girl)” she laughs, coming up to you to squeeze your shoulders encouragingly, your cheeks were burning.

the entire team watched the interaction with big grins, ready to tease you for how sheepish you looked.

“gracias (thank you), ale” you scratch the back of your neck with an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head, “it’s nothing, thank me with a goal next game” she jokes, pinching your cheek teasingly before walking off to get some water.

you’re left there in shock, lucy and keira approaching with cheesy grins. “you’re in love” lucy coos, poking your shoulder teasingly while you shielded yourself in a hug from keira.

“i’m so fucking stupid, why can’t i be normal” you groan, keira laughs, her hand rubbing up and down your back. “you’re just shy, which is weird to see because you’re the complete opposite” she laughs, you pull back to throw her a glare.

“it’s cute” lucy chuckles, “i can’t wait to tell everyone about the development” she grins, her and keira share a hearty laugh seeing your face go pale, while you attempted not to scream.

“don’t you fucking dare” you grit out, “i won’t” lucy winks, unfortunately she did and by the time training was over, your phone was blowing up with text messages talking about the interaction.

you looked at lucy with a stone cold glare while she blew you a kiss, alexia watched how angry you were, she could practically feel it radiating off you on the other side of the change room.

“estás bien? (are you okay)” alexia walks up to you, holding a cold drink out to you. you take it after a moment of hesitation, “uh, yeah, sí” you smile, “lucia is annoying you?” alexia grins, looking over at lucy to see her and keira whispering while looking at you. “yes, she’s very annoying” you grumble, your eyebrows furrowing.

alexia smiles fondly at you, her hand moving to your face, her thumb smoothing out the crease between your eyebrows. “wrinkles” she tutts, your breath caught in the back of your throat as you looked up at her.

“are you coming tonight?” she says like she didn’t just make you flatline. she’s talking about a team bonding session at her house. “yeah, i think so” you smile at her, “think or know?” she teases, was she flirting with you?

“know, i’ll be there” you mock, she nods with a pleased expression, “hasta luego, lindura (see you later, cutie)” she winks, moving to grab her bag from her cubby and leave, making sure to look back at you another time with a soft smile before walking out.

you get pulled out of your trance once you hear your phone blowing up again, checking it to see lucy had recorded you watching alexia leave. you throw your head back in frustration but chose to avoid letting the older girl feel your wrath, you were still on a buzz from the thought of alexia flirting with you.

—

when you arrived at alexia’s house, you brought her a bottle of wine with a sheepish grin. when she opened the door for you, she pulled you into the warmest hug, both of you fitting together like a puzzle.

“finalmente! (finally) i was waiting for you!” she grins as she pulls away, taking the wine out of your hands and grabbing one of yours to drag you into the living room where everyone was.

her hand was so warm against yours, soft against your skin and you really didn’t want her to let go. “you look beautiful” alexia smiles before she ushers you to sit down, you barely had the time to tell her how breathtaking she looked, dressed casually but still looking like she could be on the front of a magazine.

you sit next to mapi and she immediately bombards you with questions, “have you kissed yet?” she questions, you slap her knee, “ingrid, your girlfriend is a bully” you huff, ingrid laughs, nodding along with you with an apologetic smile.

everyone was watching a movie while eating, alexia sitting beside you, the two of you would chat back and forth with small giggles and smiles shared between you.

by the time the night was ending, alexia’s arm was resting behind you on the couch, basically over your shoulder while you were in your own little bubble.

when you left that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the interactions you had with the catalan, you needed to do something about it. fast.

—

on a match day for barcelona, you decided it was time for you to tell her about your feelings. it was clear you were flirting with each other. confirmed during the game.

in the second half, you managed to get a goal, using the technique alexia had taught you a couple of days prior.

she was the first one to you after, the loud roar of the crowd drowned out when you felt alexia’s strong arms wrapping around your waist.

you both smiled so brightly as she congratulated you, placing you on the ground, giving you an affectionate kiss on the forehead and squeezing your shoulders. this told you everything. it wasn’t just her being friendly, it was alexia making a move.

at the end of the match, the two of you lingered in the middle of the pitch, you were fidgeting so much alexia was worried.

“(y/n)?” she dips her head to make eye contact with you, “estás bien? (are you okay)” you nod, opening your mouth to speak but nothing came out. “take a deep breath” she smiles, a hand on your shoulder offering you comfort but also stressing you out.

“ale” you start, she nods with an encouraging smile, “i really fancy ya, ale, i’ve been wantin’ to tell ya for a while” you blurt out, alexia’s eyebrows furrow, she looks a little confused.

the silence was loud, why hasn’t she said anything back. if this was her rejection, it hurt more than anything she could have verbalised.

“you know what, forget i said anythin’” you run off before she could say anything. “qué? (what)” she was about to ask you to repeat yourself, one - because you were speaking too fast, two - she didn’t know what fancy meant.

you heard her call out for you but you ran into the change room, knowing keira and lucy were in there. “keira!” you yell, “fucking check my pulse!” you shove your arm in her face and she looks at you in shock. only a couple of people were inside, and the ones that were were shocked at how you tumbled into the room.

“jesus, your heart is going so fast” keira says as she presses her fingers to the inside of your wrist. “fuck, why couldn’t you tell me i’m dead and this is a nightmare” you groan, your hands running over your face frustratingly.

“what’s wrong with you?” lucy says as she walks out of the shower to see you in absolute shambles. “everything!” you explain each and every detail and they look at you sympathetically, understanding now why you were so upset.

what you didn’t know was alexia was outside, ear pressed to the door as she heard you explain that you were trying to confess. she feels her stomach tighten, cursing herself for not understanding what you were saying.

“whatever, i’m going home, don’t follow me” you grit, tears pooling at your waterline as you rush out. alexia had moved out of eyeline when she heard you, quickly going into the change room and drilling lucy and keira for your address that they happily gave her with sly grins. happy to know it was all a misunderstanding.

—

that afternoon, you hastily wiped your tears away thinking about alexia. you had misunderstood her intentions clearly, you were disappointed with yourself.

you heard the banging from the front door and groaned, knowing your fellow england teammates were probably on the other side with ice cream and apologetic smiles.

“i told you both not to follow me-” you huff, the door opening to see alexia standing there, a bouquet of bright flowers in hand. “hola (hello)” she smiles, “what are you doing here?” you ask softly, “can i come in?” you nod, moving back a little so she could step inside. she hands you the flowers and you take them with a confused expression.

what type of rejection was this?

“i heard you speaking to lucy and keira before” she starts nervously, both of you walking to the kitchen so you could put the flowers in water, they were beautiful.

“it’s fine if you don’t feel the same” you shrink into yourself, brushing the petals of one of the flowers between your fingers.

“hermosa (beautiful)” she calls out, moving around your counter to stand directly in front of you. “me gustas mucho, y quiero estar contigo (i like you a lot, i want to be with you)” she says earnestly, speaking in her mother tongue and hoping you understood because she was speaking from the heart.

you freeze, each and every word quickly translated in your head. “amor (love), you’re very beautiful and nice but you speak very fast, i did not understand a word you said before” she laughs, you can’t help but laugh too, shaking your head at how fast you fled the situation.

“i’m sorry, ale” you grin, “don’t be” she dismisses, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, relishing in the blush she just produced on your cheeks.

“me gustas mucho (i like you a lot), alexia” you smile, she gives you a dazzling expression, appreciating how you spoke her mother tongue to her so she really understood this time. “muy bien, preciosa! (very good, precious)” she coos affectionately, her hand cradling your cheek as she directed your eyes to hers.

“we will teach each other, sí?” she grins cheekily, you hum along with her words, “sí”.

she pulls you closer to place a sweet kiss on your lips, your stomach lurching at how soft they were against yours.

you both smile into it as she drew you closer, your arms wrapping around her neck while her free hand came to rest on the small of your back to press you against her.

she pulls away, not without pressing a few more kisses to your lips through the giggles and the small chatter between the two of you.

—

when you both came to training the next day hand in hand, sighs of relief were heard from everyone. lucy whipped out her phone as quickly as she could and sent pictures to the england group chat, your phone blowing up more than ever.

now that the team saw you interact, the teasing somehow got worse every time alexia would kiss you, or even hold your hand.

the pining drove everyone insane but the loved up versions of the two of you were insufferable. you were attached at the hip, just how you and alexia wanted.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you xx

liked by keirawalsh and 44,232 others

alexiaputellas: mi niña (my girl)

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yourname: mami

↳ alexiaputellas: i didn’t teach her this

↳ marialeonn16: sureeeee

lucybronze: the most annoying couple ever

↳ yourname: shut up man

↳ leahwilliamsonn: there she is!!

↳ keirawalsh: she went soft but is still a shit head

↳ yourname: @/alexiaputellas bebé! defend me!

↳ alexiaputellas: you are soft

↳ yourname: the betrayal is unreal

[auspicioustidings]

Based on this. You are in Finland full of self-loathing and the 141 needs a fat wife if they want to win some beer.

You aren't exactly on holiday in Finland. It should be your honeymoon but since you caught your groom balls deep in your maid of honour you instead have used it as an escape from the country. You just cannot be around the people you love right now, can't have them all look at you with all that pity. Even worse is that some of them probably don't even blame him. Your former best friend is a size 8, perfect hourglass figure. Your former partner is trim and decently fit. They look like they belong together more than you and him ever did.

You hate yourself. You hate looking in the mirror. You hate how clothes fit you. You deserved it you think.

"Not a chance MacTavish, that's my wife!"

"Away and biel yer heid, I saw her first!"

"Actually I saw her first!"

"I outrank all of you muppets so I think you'll find that is my wife!"

It's a racket in the little cafe but you don't pay much mind, still just staring out the window and wondering if you could ever deserve anything. One of the servers comes to take your empty cup and grins at you, telling you in her heavy accent that she would personally go for the one with the mask since he's the biggest. You don't understand when you look around and there are a lot of locals smiling happily over at you while four Greek Gods of men are having a scuffle, moving slowly in your direction. More people chip in, arguing about who you should pick, some lamenting that they would claim you themselves if they thought they could.

One big man does try, basically some Viking God, but he's playfully (you hope it's playful) spear tackled by the man with the mohawk before he laughs and backs off.

When Gaz with warmed cheeks and excitement in his eyes gets to you while Soap is busy with the viking and Ghost and Price are wrestling one another he asks if you'd do him the honour of being his wife. You nearly choke, but he explains that the wife carrying competition is today. You look around, bewildered, ask him why he wouldn't pick any of the other women in here given that they are all gorgeous slim things.

"Fuck all use to us, need a nice soft bird with lots of fat" says the man in the mask.

Price scowls and whacks his lieutenant upside the head because he sees how you look a second away from crying.

"You're gorgeous sweetheart, he didn't mean anything by it. The prize is the wife's weight in beer though, so he's right about a little lady not being much use."

You don't know what to say. You don't know if this is mortifying or not given that everyone around you seems to not be looking at you with sneers or laughing at you, but instead looking with soft smiles that convey fondness. They think this is adorable.

"Dinnae listen tae their nice soft birds and sweethearts! I'll be a better husband bonnie. I'm shorter aye bit look at the power in these legs, naw going tae drop ye. And I'll split that beer 50/50!"

And then they're arguing. The four of them are arguing and trying to put forward a case to you about why they would be the best husband. When it starts to get raunchy, you fluster and stop them. But fluster is something. It's not self loathing. It's been weeks since you felt anything but self loathing. So even though you are sure everyone can feel the heat rolling off of you in waves at how bashful you are under so much attention from such attractive men, you pick one (the others are devastated but vow that you're only a wife for the competition, that after they should get another shot at convincing you that they're the best option).

And they do. Even though the man you picked doesn't win (gets DQ'd actually since you are heavy and he decided that you were getting over that damn finish line so the four of them took turns) they take you out for drinks after. You think you feel humiliated that they couldn't carry you a long distance, but you don't have time to sit with the feeling because they drown it out with how warm and giddy they make you feel.

They insist that they will compete next year, so you have 365 days to pick a husband. When you make a quiet comment about how you'll lose weight by then so they can carry you the whole way, they nearly riot as they assure you that they would be a shit pick for husband if they didn't spent the year getting stronger so they can carry you just how you are. Plus they'll not be losing any beer thank you very much.

By the time the next wife carrying competition rolls around you are a different person. You're wearing clothes that fit instead of trying to hide your body. You laugh and flirt back with the barista instead of assuming they are making fun of you by flirting. And you don't care if your husband makes it over the finish line, just that you have fun and laugh and joke about the attempt. Of course it's not entirely certain who that husband is yet, got to keep them on their toes after all.

[dovesdreaming]

hiii!!!! I saw you wanted requests for descendants so here I am!!! I was wondering if you're willing to write plus sized reader? if not, could you write Harry Hook with someone who's insecure about their body? no pressure! thanks!!

Harry hook x insecure!reader

Hi I really hope I did this request justice and that people can take comfort from it! I hope I portrayed his character right and that you can enjoy it <3 I may rewrite this in the future and go further into the issues but I kept this quite light for now

Not edited yet please ignore any errors

Warnings: talk of body issues

When he notices you he falls immediately. Asks anyone close by if he knows you’re taken and angrily scoffs if people just shrug him off. Once he got his answer that you were single he made his aim to win you over.

-Harry is quite a flirty person by nature but when it comes to you he ranks it up ten fold. Near enough every sentence that’s directed to you has at least a flirty undertone.

-Would make it known to everyone that he wanted you and when you finally agreed to be his he couldn’t be happier.

-Once your in a relationship with each other things progress to a deeper level yet he still flirts with you because he loves making you flustered

-What he doesn’t expect to find out about you though is that your insecure about things he’d never put much thought into before. He thought it was astonishing that you were insecure about little lines in your skin you called stretch marks and something you called cellulite. When Harry looked at you he never saw these insecurities that you called ugly, he only saw someone who was perfect and beautiful. He saw the person he loved. Now that he knew you didn’t like these little things about yourself he always made an effort to show you he loved them. He kissed the places you hated and always told you how beautiful you were making sure to look deep into your eyes when he says it to make his message clear, he wouldn’t allow any buts. He also loved to rub his hook over the places you felt insecure about because he knew how much you loved the hook from how much you stared at it.

-When you were having a rough day he was gentle with you and did everything he could to show you how much he loved you and how your insecurities were meaningless.

-Would not listen or take no for an answer if he wanted to pick you up. Would shush any of your claims that you’re too big or heavy to pick up. He was strong he could carry you and would love to.

-If he ever saw you looking in the mirror with a deflated look he would immediately sweep you off your feet. Bending you backwards with a hand supporting your back while he whispered sweet nothings and compliments in your ears with his pirate accent.

-Would try to be as comforting as possible but would be hard to begin with for him as he wasn’t raised in an environment like that.

-If anyone ever made comments on your insecurities they would be done for as Harry would step in front of you protectively while staring down at the person in question. He looms over them while playing with his hook, daring them to say another word about you.

-Harry wouldn’t rest until you loved those parts of yourself and would make you say positive things about yourself daily.

-You would help him with any of his insecurities as well, as I can imagine he can get insecure about not fitting in, in Auradon.

Thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed <3

[allbark-no-bite]

don’t write checks you can’t cash.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall

warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)

author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it

(you can read part 2 here!)

————————————————————————

You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.

Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.

Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.

Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?

The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.

Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.

You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.

——

You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.

"You from around here, [L/n]?"

You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.

As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.

"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."

You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.

You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.

Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.

You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.

This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.

Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.

Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.

Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.

As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.

“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."

And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.

——

For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.

You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.

"Hawk!"

Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.

“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.

"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.

After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."

You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."

Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."

Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."

Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.

Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."

As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.

An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.

After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.

You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.

Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.

He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.

"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.

Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.

"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.

You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.

"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."

Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."

You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"

"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."

Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.

"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."

He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.

The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.

Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.

12:57 am

"Dad, I wanna go home."

"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."

"Want me to show you?"

His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.

Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."

You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.

"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."

Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."

Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."

Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."

Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.

"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.

"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.

He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."

Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.

"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.

Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.

"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.

You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.

All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"

It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.

Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.

It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.

"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"

Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."

Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."

The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.

"You can't be serious."

He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."

"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.

Against your better judgement, you take the shot.

The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.

"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.

"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"

"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.

Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.

"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.

You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.

"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.

His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.

"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.

Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.

You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.

“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”

With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.

Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Inside you know exactly what he means.

His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.

You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.

"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.

You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.

"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.

He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[latin5mamii]

Angel - Jude Bellingham

warnings: suggestive but not smut (not yet😔) (1,018 words)

genre: childhood best friends to lovers

summary:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything?

author's note: I know, I’ve left you hanging with the suspense again, but I promise I’m already working on the next chapter! If you have any plot twist suggestions, I’d love to hear them🤍. I’m currently working on this serie, plus two one-shots ( kyky and judey). I’ll be publishing them asap. Enjoy and let me know if you like where this is going🤍! last chapter

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Of course, you hadn’t forgotten the kiss—or rather, the kisses—from that morning. The memory was still as vivid as if it had happened mere hours ago. Those lips on yours, the warmth of his body so close, the intensity in his eyes that seemed to pierce right through you, it was all too real, too vivid to let go. That memory is what keeps you awake at night, tossing and turning with thoughts too tangled to bring you peace.

Even now, as you sit next to him in the car, the soft lights from the street illuminating his face, you can't help but think about it. How could you not, when his presence is a constant reminder of every detail from that morning?

The door closes behind you, his body still close to yours. The drive back had been silent, yet the tension between you had only grown, twisting into a knot of anxiety in your stomach.

If you hadn’t felt the touch of his lips on yours, would you still crave him as much as you do now?

He's still behind you, and every fiber of your being wants to turn around, to see what will happen next. But you’re scared—scared of what? Let’s be honest, you can’t be afraid of ruining your friendship because that’s already happened. It happened the moment you saw each other again after so long, even before that kiss. Are you afraid that if you cross that line, there’ll be no going back? Probably.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me now,” his words from earlier echo in your mind. But that’s exactly what you’re doing. And you hate yourself for it.

"Angel." His voice startles you, breaking the silence that had grown heavy, almost suffocating. His voice, so soft yet somehow deep and commanding, and that accent—God.

"You’re thinking about something," he says, placing a hand on your shoulder.You can feel the heat of his touch seeping through your clothes, and it makes your heart race even faster. You want to say something, to break the tension that has been building between you, but the words are stuck in your throat.

“I’m not.” The words slip out before you can stop them, and you instantly regret it.

Jude raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure?”

You nod shyly, unable to meet his eyes, and you can feel your face heating up.

"Alright then," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. He steps back, turning away from you, and starts walking toward the hallway.

Your heart drops as you watch him go. “Where are you going?” you blurt out, the question escaping before you can think it through.

He pauses, glancing back at you with that same teasing smirk. “I’m going to bed,” he says casually, as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. “Why? You wanna come?”

Your breath catches, and you feel your pulse quicken at the implication in his words. Jude’s eyes lock onto yours, the playful gleam in them making it impossible to look away.

For a moment, you’re both frozen in place, the air thick with the tension that’s been building all evening. You don’t know how to respond, torn between the pull of his offer and the fear of what it might mean if you accept.

“What happens if I say yes?” The words slip out before you can stop them, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude’s smirk deepens, and he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Why don’t you find out?” he murmurs, the challenge hanging in the air between you.

And then, without waiting for a response, he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing softly as he heads down the hallway. He doesn’t look back, leaving you standing there, alone with your thoughts and the heavy silence he’s left behind.

The weight of the decision presses down on you as you watch him disappear into his room. The door doesn’t close all the way, left slightly ajar, as if to give you the option. It’s an invitation, one that sets your mind spinning.

The door to Jude’s room remains slightly ajar, leaving you with an open invitation. You stand there for a moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on you, as if the silence in the house has taken on a tangible form. The thought of following him is both thrilling and terrifying.

With a deep breath, you turn away from the hallway and head to your own room. You need to distract yourself, to process what just happened. You change into comfortable clothes, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your mind, but the image of Jude’s smirk and the intensity of his eyes won’t leave you.

Lying in bed, you stare up at the ceiling, replaying the evening’s events over and over. You think about that morning, the kisses that still linger in your memory, the way his touch made you feel. And now, his invitation, something that you both want and deny.

As the minutes tick by, the tension grows unbearable. You toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position. Should you go to him?

But you can’t take it any longer. You slip out of bed, your heart pounding with every step you take towards Jude’s room. You walk down the hallway, the quiet of the house almost amplifying your nervousness. When you reach his door, you take another deep breath and push it open.

The room’s dimly lit, his shadow reflecting on the wall. He’s lying in bed, propped up on his elbows, watching you move towards him. The sight of him there, so relaxed, only heightens your anxiety.

You move cautiously towards the bed,a soft smile playing on your lips. When you finally sit down, you can feel the mattress shift under your weight, and Jude’s eyes follow your every movement.

“I knew you’d show up,” he says. You don’t turn to face him, but you can almost picture the smirk on his lips. To him, you were an open book, and he was always one page ahead.

“What are you scared about?” He shifts closer, the space between you diminishing with each movement.

You look at him, your breath catching in your throat. “I’m not scared,” you reply, though your voice betrays you, quivering slightly.

Jude’s gaze remains locked on yours, the playful glint in his eyes giving way to something more intense. “Then why are you hesitating?” he murmurs, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. The touch sends a shiver down your spine.

You can feel the heat from his body, the way his breath mingles with yours, each movement bringing you closer to a precipice you’re not sure you’re ready to cross.

“Maybe I’m just not sure what comes next,” you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jude’s lips curve into a knowing smile, and he leans in, his face dangerously close to yours. “Let’s find out,” he says softly. “Let’s see who falls first, yeah?”

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[ch-4-eri]

So It Goes — Lara Croft.

lara X fem!reader.

warnings: phone sex, masturbating, pet names (lots and lots of them, baby princess sweetheart etc) edging if you squint, let me know if i missed anything else.

word count: 1.6k

idk about y’all but she makes me lose it.

your eyes were glued to your tv screen, but your thoughts were elsewhere entirely.

you were debating whether to go to bed or touch yourself as you hadn’t in a long long time, and you were in the mood.

the only problem was that you hated to touch yourself with your own fingers, you’d have much preferred if it were lara’s fingers instead, your girlfriend who’s too busy working, travelling at the moment.

with the thoughts of lara’s fingers, her calloused hands, the way they were thick and would fill you up— you quickly jumped taking off your panties and lying down on the couch, keeping the image of your girlfriend’s fingers and her sweet voice in the back of your head as you stuck two fingers inside of yourself.

surprised to find yourself already wet at the thought of lara, of course.. you never doubted how much she’d turn you on when you needed it.

as your fingers were moving up and down your pussy, your back arched against the couch, the nightgown you had on pushed up to reveal your belly, noticing how much your breath hitched and faltered, your free hand gripped the cushions as you tried to focus on the feeling.

collecting your slick and smearing it all over your clit as you let out a moan, you usually never made noise as you were touching yourself, but all you thought of was lara, which made you rock your hips back and forth as you fucked yourself with your own fingers, your breathing heavy and your moans so loud that you felt her there, like she’s the one touching you.

your eyebrows were furrowed with sweat breaking out on your forehead and between your breasts, the same ones that bounced as you were drunk on the feeling of your own fingers.

your goal was to cum, you wanted it so bad, but the more you thought of it the more you started to be more aware that you were alone; and lara was not here with you.

god you missed her, you missed her so bad you frustratingly stopped, removed your fingers out of your throbbing wet pussy while your legs twitching as you edged yourself, your body had other ideas but you just couldn’t take this anymore.

your breathing was heavy as you reached for your phone, your eyes staring at the ceiling as you dialled lara’s phone number, please pick up please pick up.

it took three rings until lara picked up.

“hi, love.. what are you doing calling this late?” she chuckled through the phone, her thick british accent making you even more frustrated.

you bit down your lip, what kind of excuse do you have for her? that you couldn’t finish because she’s not there? lara would probably never let go of this one; ever. and you weren’t in the mood to get laughed at…

“hello?” lara spoke once again. “love, you okay?”

“hi.. sorry is this a bad time?” you asked, sitting up on the couch, your core brushing against the silk nightgown, driving you crazier.

“not at all.. was just grabbing some tea.” lara says, hearing the crinkling of the spoon against the glass as you squeezed your eyes shut, still unsure of how to come clean with this.

you played with the hem of your nightgown, hearing lara shuffling and moving things around, still trying to come up with a proper way to tell her this, rubbing your thighs together as you did so.

“alright..” lara whispered into the call, probably sitting down somewhere as you heard the sound of fabric and the mug being placed on a table. “you’re not speaking, did you just call me because you missed hearing me talk?” lara giggled, she seemed in a good mood; which was a good thing.

you were a mess right now and you had no idea what to do.

“i did… actually.” you finally said, keeping your head tipped back as your eyes scanned the ceiling. “hm… satisfied now huh?” lara gave you a cheeky chuckle, knowing how flustered it gets you, even if it’s from the damn phone, your cheeks went red and your thighs rubbed together.

“erm— not yet.” you finally confessed, but then the other line went silent, but it wasn’t long before you heard lara laugh a bit.

“ah, i get it now.” she cleared her throat. “you’re being a naughty girl right now.” lara adds.

“…. lara, i need you.” you desperately let it out, not caring anymore, you were indeed desperate and would do anything for her to talk you through it.

“you’re so selfish.” lara chuckled through the phone. “but it’s okay, i’ll be nice… give my girl what she wants.”

you felt absolutely terrible at her words, but knowing lara— she’s just teasing you, riling you up so you need her even more, and you do as your legs involuntarily spread on their own.

“so, how are we gonna do this?” lara began, her tone soft and sultry. “your fingers hm?” she guessed making you hum a response.

“alright… now, lick them and rub your clit.” lara gave you a command as her tone was quiet, like it’s just for you to hear.

you put your already wet fingers inside your mouth and filled them up with your saliva. “get them real wet okay?” lara says through the phone, your core burning with a sensation at her words and your actions, you’ve never felt this horny before, or done anything like this before.

you did what lara wanted; you were sucking on your fingers and made them as wet as possible. “you can start now, okay baby?” lara’s voice carried you through it, your fingers dipped between your thighs once again, touching your pussy in gentle circular motion, letting out a stiff moan.

“there we go… i’ve always wanted to do something like this with you.” lara chuckled, making your fingers rub faster.

“tell me what you’re doing.” lara requested after a moment of silence; your squelching filled the room, unsure if lara could hear it though.

“i’m.. hm..” you moaned, your cheeks burning red.

“don’t overthink it now, you’re doing good.” lara praised you, your fingers still moving as you pleasured yourself hearing the way lara breathed into the phone, you could cry out for how much you missed her.

“i miss you… i miss you so much.” you gasped, your lower belly tightening.

“i miss you too honey… and i miss fingering you myself, i miss how wet you are, god… you���re so perfect.” lara teased you, her tone so quiet and sultry as you felt your pussy twitching and throbbing as you were so damn close, just one more praise and you’re coming undone.

“lara—“ you moaned, her name sounded amazing coming from your pretty mouth, lara could cum in her own pants at the sound of you like that, her panties were stuck to her own cunt as she was listening to everything and barely breathing.

“cum for me… hm? do it for me baby, i know you can do it.. imagine yourself sitting on my face, and ruin me.. come on baby.” lara says, her voice coming out breathier, moving her own fingers around her clothed cunt as she manspread on the couch she was seated on and touched her needy self, she’d so take care of this when she’s done with you.

“hm.. fuck i can’t..” you rasped, your fingers were so wet, the couch probably stained as well as your nightgown.

“come on princess, you know you can do it.. goddamn it i bet you look so fucking beautiful touching yourself like that for me..” lara breathed, her own fingers teasing her hardened nipple, biting her lip.

you were driven crazy at her words, so crazy you couldn’t contain your whimpers and writhing, your hips rocking themselves against your fingers, letting a gasp out each time you moved, your vision became so blurry as you came all over your fingers and on the couch.

all while lara was trying so hard not to touch herself, not right now.

this was your time, she wanted to focus on you, give you whatever you needed.. she can hardly wait.

“good… good girl you did so good.” lara breathed into the phone and let out a satisfied chuckle.

you on the other hand, sweating your bum off, your breathing heavy and your fingers wet and sticky, your knees wobbly as you were trying to catch your breath. “thank you.” was all that came out of your dry throat.

“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.” lara responds after a second or so, trying to collect herself, you got her so worked up she couldn’t think straight, her tea turning cold.

“go wash yourself, and get some sleep.. i’ll call you in the morning, kay baby?” lara says, standing up on her own shaky legs.

“mmhm... lara, i love you.” you finally managed, sitting on the edge of the couch, listening to the way she breathed, your toes curled, grabbing the hem of your nightgown. “i love you, too.” lara said, you can hear a grin in her tone which reassured you she’d call like she said she would; she always did.

you hung up then, your body still so tense after such a long overdue orgasm.. it felt amazing, your skin was so tingly, your cheeks flushed, nothing felt better than this right at this second.

as soon as you hung up the phone call, she put her cellphone aside while trying to control herself, took a sip from her tea, rubbed her face, then rubbed her hands on her thighs.

but every time she recalls your moans through the phone she just couldn’t help the way her nipples were hard, seeing them through her shirt, her wet panties, she had to do something about it.

[majorbuckegan]

prettier than a peach (john "bucky" egan x reader)

In which you're his favorite nurse, and John Egan tries his hardest to win your heart.

Words: 1.8K

Warnings: Bucky Egan is a warning all on his own. Fluffy, fluffy fluff.

Disclosure: Please do not copy my work on any other sites. I will be posting this here & on ao3 shortly. This fic is based on the characters brought to life in the Apple TV series Masters of the Air, not the real people the characters were based on.

Note: Peach!Reader is going to make many appearances, I'm going to make this a series. Without further adieu, enjoy.

It all started on a Saturday morning. It was early—really early. You hadn't really expected to have anyone walking around near the infirmary, but at half past 0300, you heard the sounds of heavy footfalls, with slurred speech and another low voice arguing.

 You get up to look out the window, and not a second goes by before the door swings open. You recognize the two men instantly: Major Gale "Buck" Cleven is half dragging Major John "Bucky" Egan into the infirmary. 

"Morning, ma'am." Major Cleven's blue eyes zero in on you immediately, and he offers you a kind (and apologetic) smile. "My buddy here had a bit too much to drink and got himself into a scuffle with some guys at the bar." 

Your gaze flickers to Major Egan, studying him with a calculating gaze. He's going to have a black eye, you notice, and he's holding onto the left side of his ribs. It's not the first time you've heard of the Major getting into a fight, but it's the first time it's happened on your shift. 

"Alright, Major." You're addressing Egan now, coming to his side to support his left side. "Let's get you settled in bed so I can take a look at those ribs." 

You are wholly unprepared for the absolute human hurricane that is Major John Egan.

"Tryin' to get me in bed already, doll?" His words are slurred from too much alcohol, but his voice is deep and husky, and you hate the way it makes you shiver. "I don't even know your name."

Major Cleven sucks in a breath and rolls his eyes. "John Clarence Egan." That accent drawls his friend's name, and his tone is very much annoyed. "You're in the presence of a lady—a nurse—for crying out loud. Behave."

"Oh, c'mon, she walked right into that one." He insists, "She thought it was funny. You thought it was funny, right, doll?"

Stormy blue eyes are suddenly fixed on your face. It's almost like time stops for you; of course you've seen him around before, but the moment you really look into his eyes, it's like you can see your whole life ahead of you. He's quiet now, just watching you, and he finds himself absolutely anamored with the delicate blush working its way onto your face.

"It was a little funny." You admit it, but you don't meet his eyes again. You're too afraid of what you'll see on his face, because while you're falling hard and fast at first sight, he's only flirting with a woman. That's all it is to him, you're sure of it.

His chest is warm when you open his jacket and roll up his shirt. You have to ignore how beautifully masculine he is on order to focus on your job. Your eyes flicker to his abdomen, and sure enough, there are wicked bruises starting to show on the skin that covers his ribs. You're pretty sure they're not broken, but you have to be sure.

"This may hurt." You warn him, your fingers prodding gently at his side, and he hisses quietly under his breath. You don't feel anything out of place, but he'll definitely need a few hours of rest and something to ease the pain.

"Your hands are freezing." He grumbles, and before you can say anything, he's got both of them in his much bigger, warmer hands. "There, that's better."

"You're unbelievable, John Egan." Major Cleven speaks up from behind you, his tone more exasperated than anything else.

You carefully extract your hands from Major Egan's, and you try to ignore the way he pouts when you're no longer touching him. "I'll keep him overnight for observation, Major Cleven. Make sure he rests and heals up a bit."

Major Cleven looks strangely relieved, but still, he frowns. "Are you sure? I can handle Bucky; I don't want him causing you any trouble."

His gentle demeanor makes you smile. "I appreciate that, Major, but I've dealt with far rowdier men than Major Egan here. You go on and get some rest; I'll handle this."

Major Egan looks irritated that you and his best friend were talking about him like he wasn't even there. "Just call me Bucky. Or I'll take John." He tells you, his tone demanding, his lips pulled into yet another pout.

"You behave yourself." Major Cleven points a finger at him, his face stern. When he turns back to you, he offers another warm smile. "You might as well call me Buck, too, since you're saving me from trying to sleep in the same room as that one while he's drunk."

You offer your name in return, and you offer a comforting smile as you shoo Buck off to bed.

It's quiet for a moment after the other Major takes his leave. You wonder if the alcohol has made Major Egan fall asleep. You're surprised to see his eyes open and staring directly at you when you turn around.

"Can't remember if I've ever seen you around before." He says, his words still slightly slurred as he speaks. You can't recall ever having heard a voice like his before. Gravely, warm and steady, even with alcohol in his system. "I'd remember that face; you're so pretty."

"And you're drunk." You answer, turning away before he can notice that you're blushing. You've dealt with flirty airmen before, but this is the first time it's really gotten to you. "Get some rest, Major."

He's quiet for a moment, and you're grateful for a reprieve from the flirting as you mark the log book with a pencil. The only noise for a few moments is the lead scratching against the paper as you write.

"I'm gonna call you Peach."

When you turn back, his lips tug into the most heart-stopping smirk you've ever seen. "You could just call me Nurse." You point out, and for some reason, that only seems to egg him on.

"Well, I like Peach. You're prettier than a peach. Sweet as one too; look at that blush." You're sure you've forgotten how to breathe.

"You're a menace." You answer after you've finally gotten a hold of your emotions. "And it's early; you need rest. Sleep."

"How about a goodnight kiss first?" You almost toss the log book at him. Almost. "Just one on the forehead, and then I'll sleep. Scout's honor, Peach."

You sigh, your eyes darting over his face for a moment. Sure, he's a flirt, but you've never heard of him ever harming a woman. So you walk over to his bedside and lean down.

His forehead is warm, an errant curl tickling your cheek as your lips press against his skin. You feel him shudder under the touch of your lips against him, but then his breathing evens back out as you lean away.

"Alright, Major, you got your kiss. Now sleep." He doesn't miss the way your eyes flicker to his lips and away again, but he does as he's told and rolls over onto his side.

After he falls asleep, the morning is quiet. Your shift at the infirmary ends at 0600 and the nurse who comes to relieve you doesn't seem surprised to see Bucky there. She rolls her eyes and huffs a laugh as you explain how he came to be in a bed in the infirmary.

He's shifting awake as you're leaving, and his blue eyes have just enough time to focus on your retreating form before you're gone. He was a little saddened; he'd been hoping for one more kiss.

Outside, the air is still cool, and the sun is just beginning to peek beyond the horizon. The inky blackness of the sky is lightening to a shade of blue that looks like Major Egan's eyes, and God, you have to stop thinking about him. You really didn't need to get attached.

You pass Buck on the way back to your quarters, and he waves at you with one of his dazzling smiles as he passes. He's wearing his uniform, and you know that means he'll be out in the sky soon enough. You return his smile and wave happily.

Exhaustion sweeps through you as you enter your quarters, and you make quick work of taking your hair pins out and wiping your makeup off. By the time your head hits the pillow, sleep pulls you under. The only things on your mind as you fall asleep are dark curls and blue eyes.

***

Hours later, you blink awake. There's still sunlight flittering in through the curtains over your window, and you sit up to stretch your arms and shoulders. It had to be close to dinnertime, and your stomach rumbles as you slip out of bed and dress in your uniform. Sometimes you missed your dresses back home, but you always felt a sense of pride in your olive drab skirt and jacket. You make sure to swipe on your Victory Red lipstick before you leave.

Placing your cover under your arm, you slip out of your barracks just to come face-to-face with a man. Not just any man, either.

"Peach!" He's still loud, his face wide and warm and friendly. His breath smells like the peppermint gum he's chewing, and his eyes are clear. "Don't think I didn't see you slip out of the room before I could ask for my morning kiss."

He's smiling so brightly that it's like looking at the sun. He's all white teeth and dark curls and blue eyes, his cover tucked under his arm. He's got a single flower in his free hand. You've never seen someone look so devastatingly beautiful.

"Major." You greet him, and it's a good thing you didn't put on blush when refreshing your makeup because your face is hot now. Just from looking at him. "What brings you to the women's barracks?"

"I told you, Peach. Call me Bucky. Or John." His grin never falters. You want to kiss the corner of his mouth, nip at the jawline. He's got so much energy and vitality, and your heart beats so loudly that it's a wonder he can't hear. "Well, I came to offer you this gorgeous flower I found on my way over here and ask if you'd like to dance with me tonight."

You'd forgotten all about the party tonight. A crew completing their 25th mission—you hadn't really planned on attending, but you find yourself very tempted to go. "I'm not really the party type." You admit that, and that dims the light in his eyes a little. You regret the words immediately.

"Just one dance." He steps in closer, taking up more space. He's so tall and broad-shouldered; the man takes up so much room that it makes you feel small in the best way. "For your favorite patient? After all, you did give me a good-night kiss. That's gotta count for something."

Your mind rewinds to that moment, when he was fever-warm and shivering under your lips, when you'd wanted so badly to let him kiss you all over. If you weren't blushing before, you sure are now. "Alright, Bucky," You have to ignore the way he lights up when you use his nickname. "One dance."

[pretty-little-mind33]

Kraven The Hunter x fem!reader

Summary: You meet a dangerous stranger in the woods...

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: kinda dark but still tame, cheating (reader), unprotected sex (pls use contraceptives in real life!), oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, rough sex, riding, he spits in reader's mouth 👀, kissing (duh), fingering, light misogyny, ik he has a name but i use Kraven in this, bad russian google translate maybe (I AM SO SORRY I DID MY BEST—if you speak Russian and have any suggestions… please 🙏 ) LISTEN…I'M SORRY LIKE I COULD NOT RESIST WRITING FOR HIM…HAVE YOU SEEN HIM? Probably NOT comic accurate…

SERGEI KRAVINOFF MASTERLIST

You don't know what you hate more at the moment—your boyfriend or the continuous sweat forming on your hairline from the dampness and heat. It's becoming dark outside, which should cool the air and help with the heat but not as much with how pissed you are at Chris. 

With a small squeal, you stumble on the roots of a tree, gasping as your ankle twists awkwardly in your hiking shoes and the buzz of an insect flies around your ear. You swat your hand near your cheekbone. You're holding the branches you'd found in one arm now as the stickiness of the air makes your skin feel heavy. 

Screw you bugs! 

Screw you woods!

And most of all screw you Chris!

You're too immersed in your hatred that you don't realize you've fallen into an animal trap until it's too late. You scream, the branches falling from your arm as your body folds and the net wraps around you, pulling you up into the air. The rope burns your exposed skin as you squirm. This had to be a nightmare, some sick cruel joke Chris is playing on you. You half hope he'll jump out from behind the bushes and laugh in your face. 

You wait in silence for a moment but your boyfriend doesn't show up. 

"Help!" You scream out helplessly, "Is anyone there? Please, I-I'm trapped," you call. 

"Hmm, yes, that is the point of one of those," a deep voice drawls from behind you and you wince. You try to strain your neck to look at the newcomer but you can't move enough to see who it is. It certainly isn't Chris. Chris doesn't sound like that.

"Please, can you help me?" you plead shamelessly now. 

Your heart is beating so hard. You hear the creak of leaves and dirt as whoever stands behind you walks closer to you. You feel them turn the entire net around and soon you're face to face with dark piercing golden eyes. A color you can only describe as supernatural. 

"Now why would I help you? You stumbled into my trap—that makes you my prize."

The man is tall and strong. His shoulders are broad and his hair curls messily across his forehead. He's wearing an open vest made of brown leather and adorned with fur, thick leather bracers, and a necklace where three animal teeth hang.

You concentrate on the sharpness of the teeth for a while, ignoring how very much shirtless the man is against them, but eventually you lose focus as with a swift motion, he uses a knife he'd taken from his belt to cut the net and you crash to the ground. 

Immediately, the dirt sticks to your sweaty skin as you scramble up onto your feet. You brush hair from your face and stumble back, almost falling again until the man's large, calloused hand finds your forearm and he holds you still. "Calm down," he says hoarsely, his eyes narrowing and his grip tightening.

"You don't wanna run from me, gorgeous. Clearly, you don't know your left and right around here but I do. So, stay still for me so I can think about what I'm gonna do with you."

He has a thick accent and you find yourself nodding. He drops your arm and you don't move. You look up at him as he looks around, rubbing his hand over his jaw like he's debating his next moves. You can see his knife, which he has secured into his belt again, glistens with blood and your stomach churns. 

"Please don't hurt me," you whisper.

The man stares at you blankly, his eyebrows crease as he looks you up and down. After a moment, the corners of his lips curl upwards and he moves closer. You squeeze your eyes shut, scared, and you gasp inaudibly as a tear escapes you. 

The man's thumb wipes it away, his hand cupping your cheek and he speaks a language you don't understand—russian you assume—"Я бы никогда не подумал причинить тебе боль, (I would never dream of hurting you)," His tone seems sweeter than how he'd spoken before but all hopes of him translating what he'd said disappear when he asks:

"Why are you out here all alone?"

You recover from his touch as it leaves you and you try and explain, "I'm not alone. My boyfriend," you turn to look behind you but all you see is the trees and hear the rustling of animals in the shadows, "is around here somewhere," you finish.  

"He left you? Alone? Now? It's almost dark," the man accuses as if it had been your choice.

"I- I was supposed to bring branches for the fire," you say quickly, gesturing to the branches that had fallen from your arms. The man looks where you're pointing and chuckles darkly. 

"Oh, милый (darling), those aren't branches. Those aren't even twigs."

You glare at him, not finding it funny at all, "Well, I couldn't carry the heavier ones," you defend and the man interrupts with another chuckle.

"Ah," he smirks, "so why was it you who went out? Can your man not care for you properly?"

You scrunch your nose, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The man's smirk turns into a smile, his teeth showing, and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as he smiles. He's handsome—almost too handsome for someone who looks like they live in the woods.

"I mean," he drawls, leaning in even closer, "what kind of man allows his woman to do all his labor, leaving her on her lonesome and vulnerable to bad men like me?" Your breath hitches and your eyes widen when he finishes, "Your man is a pathetic little boy who doesn't deserve a woman like you."

Your mind races. You want to defend Chris, tell this man that Chirs is an amazing, loving, boyfriend—but another part of you can't deny Chris had basically coerced you onto this hike, on your birthday nonetheless, and then promptly abandoned you to fend for yourself.

However, those details weren't what your mind latched onto. No. As you stare at the handsome stranger, his words ring in your ears; "bad men like me"

The man can tell and he chuckles, "Don't look so scared. I like you. You're the most entertainment I've had in a while. Come," he beckons you over, turning around and gathering his net over his shoulder. When you don't follow instantly he calls out, "I can offer you shelter and food, and a fire," he adds with a glance over his shoulder, "Unless you'd rather find your way back to your boyfriend. Your choice, милый (darling)."

So, you end up in the man's home. The man—who had finally introduced himself as Kraven— lives in a small cabin that's obviously been worn out by time and weather. All the furniture looks barely used—as if there hasn't been life inside this cabin for a long time. 

Kraven's hospitality is coarse and oddly demanding as he pours you some honey tea he made himself and hands you some bread. You don't complain, you're starving. As Kraven makes a fire, he mumbles things in Russian and occasionally he'll look over at you, sending a shiver up your spine. Your hair is wet from the shower you just had and the strands stick to your cheeks.

Your mind wanders to Chris. Is he okay? It is a warmer night—so he really shouldn't freeze to death. You feel guilty for having accepted Kraven's offer but your thoughts are interrupted by the fire starting and Kraven stands. He runs a hand in his curls and drops his vest on the couch near you. You look up, suddenly extra aware of how shirtless and toned he is. 

"Продолжай смотреть на меня так, и у меня не будет другого выбора, кроме как трахнуть тебя прямо здесь и сейчас, милый, (Keep looking at me like that and I'll have no choice but to fuck you right here and now, darling)," Kraven says in a growl and the only word you recognize is the last one since he's used it a few times.

"What does милый mean?" you ask, attempting to pronounce the word but fumbling it. Kraven smirks and tilts his head as he walks closer until he's sitting next to you. 

"It's a term of endearment," he chuckles, "like darling—or honey."

You feel your cheeks burn. It's almost worse to hear him explain the term rather than just using it. You look down at your hands, feeling Kraven's warmth next to you. He smells like pine-wood and ashes and the scent is invading. You feel safer near him then you'd ever felt in Chris's arms. Guilt settles in your stomach again. 

"Ты так сладко пахнешь. (you smell so sweet)," Kraven says again and his hand comes up to move some stray hairs behind your ear. The air shifts and sexual tension settles around you and the feeling dances across your skin with fervor. 

You don't dare turn your head to look at him, afraid of how he's staring. "What does that all mean? The Russian?" you mutter.

"It means I want to kiss you, doll," Kraven chuckles and his hand cups your chin and he turns your head so you're staring at him. Your eyes are round and he chuckles, "what do you say милый (darling)? Will you indulge me? I wanna see if you taste as good as I think you do."

Your heart jumps in your throat and suddenly you feel very small compared to him. Your eyes flicker to his lips and then up to look into his eyes. They sparkle darkly and you wonder if anyone has ever been able to say no to those eyes. You surely won't be the first. You nod. 

Kraven leans in and captures your lips with passion so fierce you're afraid your lips will bruise. Still, they slide across his easily and it's as if you've been molded for one another. Kraven's hands tighten in your hair, bunching up the strands so he can control your head movements. Control. His entire demeanor screams control.

"Good girl," he mutters with a smirk against your lips and his hands move to grip your hips. You're wearing some shorts and a shirt you found in the bedroom when you changed from your shower.

You gasp as he helps you up and you straddle him now. With a humph, he lifts up his hips and slides his knife holster to the side so it isn't digging into your thigh or his. He grins wolfishly, continuing to kiss you. His lips trail up your neck and near your ear. 

It never felt like this with Chris. Sure, it had been fine—it had been good even in the beginning—but this? No, nothing could compare to this. 

Kraven's hands are large and strong against your skin as he kneads your waist and ass. "Ты такая хорошая девушка для меня (You're such a good girl for me)," he whispers, his voice hoarse, and as attractive as it is, you whine and furrow your brows.

"Please, don't talk in Russian anymore. I can't understand you," you pout, pulling him closer as you unconsciously grind your hips into his for more friction. "I wanna understand you," 

Kraven grips your hips harder and rolls them onto him, earning him a soft moan that falls from your lips. "Alright, darling, alright," he smiles and kisses you again. "Tell me, do'you want more from me? Seems like you do," he grinds your hips again, punctuating his words as he teases you mercilessly. 

You are at loss for words. This is wrong. You're cheating on your boyfriend, you try to remind yourself, with a man you met in the woods. But if this is so wrong, why does it feel so good? You moan. You desperately want to slide your shorts and panties down to allow even more friction on your clit. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you must look so needy. 

Kraven hooks his fingers in your waistband, running his thumb over your hip, reading your mind, "Is this what you want, darling? You wanna rub yourself on me like a little slut?" 

The insult shouldn't be as hot as it is, but when it's followed by a searing kiss, the word is honey on his tongue. You moan and drop your head in the crook of his neck, grasping onto his shoulders as you lift your hips so he can easily slide your panties and shorts down. "Please," you whisper, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. 

Kraven smirks and, as he holds your nape with one hand, he uses the other and finds your pussy. He explores your folds, wanting to make sure you're wet and ready for him. He rubs your clit, earning him smaller, more high pitched sounds from your parted lips as your wetness seeps over his hand. 

Kraven teases you for a little while longer, murmuring praises in your ear until he suddenly spreads his legs and you fall to your knees in front of the couch. You gasp, looking up at him from the ground. 

He looks majestic, sitting there, as if the couch was his throne and he was a King. 

Kraven's smirk widens as he fists one hand in your hair, using his other hand to lick his fingers clean of your arousal and then swiftly unbuckle his belt. He stares at you as he does this and tilts his head. "D'you do this for your boyfriend, gorgeous?" Kraven seems amused by the word boyfriend, as if it's some game to him. 

You nod, sinking onto your heels as you watch Kraven pull out his cock. He's big and hard and your eyes widen. "D'you like doing this?" he asks, his voice low. You catch his eye and shake your head honestly. You didn't like giving Chris head—but Chris's dick didn't look like this. Your eyes snap up to Kraven's cock. 

"You'll like it with me," he adds, smirking, and guides your head to his cock. You let him, having no complaints as you take him in your mouth. You're nervous at first, unsure of what to do, but soon you gain more confidence as you try and take him even deeper. 

You gag a little and Kraven just tightens his hand in your hair. 

"You can take it. I know you can, doll. There," he coos, clearly enjoying your work as you adjust your mouth around him. "There, yeah. That's my good girl." Kraven grunts out the word "my" and warmth pools in your stomach. You moan around his cock, sucking faster as if to respond yes, I am yours.

With a pop, he pulls your head away and tilts your chin. He helps you up to straddle him again, keeping you eye level as he positions his cock at your entrance. He squeezes your cheeks, opening your lips, and then spits into your mouth before claiming your lips again. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel him against you and he sinks you down onto him. 

"Can you feel me, милый (darling)?" he grunts, moving you on his cock slowly, torturing you. He chuckles darkly when you whine. 

"Mmh," is the only sound you make as he fills you up. It feels so good. 

"You feel full, hm?" Kraven taunts, moving your hips a little faster as his hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise. He pulls one away a moment and rips your shirt, attaching his lips to your hardened nipples as you squeal. 

"Yes, oh, I feel so full," you whimper, bouncing up on him, helping him so you can go even faster and deeper. "Shit, you're so big."

"Шлюха (slut)," he groans, the word slipping past his lips in ecstasy as he kisses and sucks across your chest. You whine, wanting him to tell you what the word means so you can understand him but Kraven smirks. He kisses your collarbone and then, using his strength, he easily flips you over so you're laying on the couch and he's on top of you now. 

Kraven sinks his cock back into you as he snaps his hips hard. You gasp, wrapping your arms around him and your nails slide up and down his back, and he groans with pleasure at the sting. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck please," you plead, eyes rolling as your body shivers.

"You're so tight around me. As if you were made just for me," he says as he continues to fuck into you. "Does your boyfriend fuck you this good?" Kraven asks, his accent thicker as he loses himself in the pleasure. His hand comes to wrap around your jaw as he holds you in place under him. 

You shake your head. 

"Слова (Words)," he growls but then curses and says, "Words, darling. Tell me."

"N-no. He doesn't fuck me this good," you whisper as Kraven's cock slides into you. You're so wet and he's so hard and this is so so wrong. 

"Yeah? You gonna run back to him now, bunny?" he snarls and nips as your earlobe. He thrusts harder and smirks at the pet name. "Hmm. run little bunny, back to your poor excuse of a boyfriend? No," Kraven grunts, as if he's made a decision, "I'm keeping you, doll. I can take care of you better than he can."

You moan at this and nod, "Please," you whisper, feeling your thighs clench around him as you can feel your orgasm approaching. 

Kraven feels it too. "You're squeezing around me, Шлюха (slut), do you wanna come?" Kraven teases and his thrusts slow. You whine and look at him, your eyes becoming teary from need. You nod.

He laughs and kisses your lips with a grin, "Alright, you can come. Go on, let yourself come all over my cock," he smirks against your skin as his sharp teeth nip at your neck. 

 You whine, letting your body finally relax as you come. You gasp, your eyes rolling from pleasure as your legs feel like jello. Kraven finishes inside you with a grunt and you whimper at the feeling.

He smiles as you sink into the cushions and your eyes flutter. His large hand comes to hold behind your head as he pulls you up and leans you against his chest. 

While Kraven's touch is comforting, it's also possessive and claiming. His thumb strokes over your hair and his lips kiss your head. He's holding you so close you're almost afraid he'll never let you go. You sigh when he slides out and picks you up in his arms as he stands.

"Good girl," he mutters as he walks you to the bathroom and adds, "You did so well for me." You let yourself relax in his arms as he promises he'll be here from now on. You're his now. 

You're so blissed out from your orgasm that your mind doesn't understand what that truly means. Instead, you shut your eyes and let him take care of you and, with a small smile, you think,

Happy. Fucking. Birthday. To. Me.

[nataliasquote]

I Will Rescue You | n romanoff

Summary: An alert from the Red Room sends Natasha, Yelena and Bucky on a last minute mission. But what they find is far from expected…

Warnings: teen pregnancy, injury, blood, guns

Pairings: natasha x adopted!daughter!reader

wc: 3.7k

note: this is just precious mama nat who holds a special place in my heart

-⧗-

"Got your six, Natasha. Approach when ready." Nat heard the crackle over her intercom and readied her gun, her elbows locked as she pressed herself against the wall.

Never did she think she'd be back in this place. The one place she vowed never to come back to. But here she was. The coldness of the stone wall was seeping through her tactical suit, which wasn't adapted to support her through Russia's freezing temperatures.

But that was the last thing Natasha was thinking about. There were girls inside. Girls that needed help. Natasha knew all too well how they felt, and she wanted to put a stop to it.

Yelena was on the opposite side of the courtyard, double ponytails swishing back and forth as she kept checking her surroundings. The sisters made eye contact and nodded, Natasha taking that as her cue to move.

Silent as the dead of night, the redheaded assassin crept through the open door, sticking to the shadows like this very place had taught her. She didn't make a sound, taking down guards with a single slice to the throat, clean and precise. Fires shot in the distance and she knew she didn't have long.

But this place was once her home. She knew it like the back of her hand, as much as she hated to admit it. She knew who she wanted to meet for the final time, but a faint rumbling told her that that plan was gone.

"черт возьми." She muttered under her breath as her once careful footing now broke into a sprint. The team had estimated about 30 minutes for extraction, but that had been cut down to 10. There were more guards than the trio expected, but they powered through.

"I'm hitting the training rooms. Nat cover the wings and Yelena-"

"Doors, yes I know. Don't need to tell me солдат."

"Buck, you know she hates being bossed around." Natasha whispered as she climbed the stairs. She heard gunshots through Bucky's comm, but carried on. They could look after themselves.

The sight of the dorm corridor made Nat sick to her stomach. But she hauled herself together and ran along the hallway, checking the rooms. They were empty.

The sight of the tiny beds empty was a relief to her. Maybe they had stopped taking so many young children.

"I've got 15 in here Nat." Bucky called over the comm.

"Take them to the jet. I've got none so far." She checked all the dorm rooms, but there wasn't a trace of life. She thought the place was deserted until a faint whimper was heard, followed by desperate attempts to console.

It sounded like a baby's cry, so Nat placed her gun in her hostler. She didn't need to have her weapons out right now. The widow bites on her wrists would do enough for now to keep her protected.

There were 5 single cells along the back wall, and only one of them was dimly lit. Nat stepped into the light so she wouldn't shock anyone who was living in there. It seemed empty at first, but upon closer inspection Nat could see a young girl curled up in the corner.

Her blue eyes were locked on Nat, muscles tense as she pressed herself into the wall.

"Я ничего не делал, клянусь!" (i didn't do anything I swear). There were bruises on her temples and a hastily tied bandage on her arm and Nat just smiled softly.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." She crouched down outside the rails and offered her hand out slowly, like you would to a frightened puppy. But the girl just stared at Nat, her eyes narrowing.

"You are Black Widow." Her english was broken and laced with a heavy Russian accent. "You disgrace him."

Nat frowned at her words but shook her head. "No, I'm here to save you. I'm gonna get you out."

"Nobody take us anywhere." As she spoke, her arms loosened to show the tiny baby wrapped in a blanket in her arms. It couldn't have been more than 2 months old, but yet the girl only looked around 15. Natasha felt sick to her stomach. What kind of sick programme had they created?

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. How old are you?"

The girl stared at Nat for a few minutes before answering. "16."

"Блядь. (fuck)". Natasha sat back on her heels,

contemplating her next move. "And the baby? Ваш ребенок? (your baby?)". The girl nodded.

"Y/n." Nat raised an eyebrow. "меня зовут Y/n."

"That's a beautiful name. You want to get out of here?" The girl shook her head slowly, and Nat didn't blame here. This was all she knew. To her, it was home, as sick and twisted as it was. "You will be safe."

"Safe? You safe?"

Natasha nodded. "You're safe with me. You both are. But we need to go." As if on cue, the whole building began to shake and pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling. The girl screamed and buried her face in her daughter's blanket, holding her tightly. "Y/n, we need to go!" Nat blasted the padlock and the door swung open. "Now!"

"Can't!" The teenager gestured to her leg, which was openly bleeding. A gunshot wound was clean through her calf, and looked fairly fresh, meaning the girl struggled to walk. Nat registered it and brought her hand up to her comms, slowly to not startle the girl.

"Bucky I need backup. Quickly." After a grunt in reply, she quickly looked around the room to find something to help. But it was bare except for a bed and a sink.

Another vibration shook the building and Nat had no other option. She rushed over to the girl and helped her stand, taking the baby in her arm after reassuring the anxious teenager that she would be safe. The girl could hardly walk, but Nat couldn't carry her. Not with the baby too.

As a pair, they hobbled out onto what once was the hallway, now half broken in the middle and filled with rocks. Y/n was heavily leaning on Nat, pain shooting up her leg with every step.

A voice came yelling down the hallway, and through the dust broke Bucky, racing along trying to fit his gun back in it's holster. "What-"

"No questions. Move. Talk later. You need to carry her." Nat was clear and concise with her orders and she gestured to Y/n's leg, which was all Bucky needed.

But Y/n was wary of the new person and she grabbed Nat's arm in front of her. But the redhead turned to face her.

"Hey, it's okay. He is going to help you be safe." She looked into the girl's blue eyes, knowing they had very little time left to get out of here.

"Natasha, I don't know where you are but you better get out of here because this place is gonna blow!" Yelena yelled into her mic, cursing in Russian as she shot down guards.

"Y/n? Please?"

"если ты делаешь больно, детка, я делаю тебе больно! (If you hurt baby, I hurt you!)". Natasha nodded and carefully settled the baby in her arm. Y/n didn't take her eyes off the infant until Bucky picked her up and she felt the pain shoot through her leg. He mumbled an apology as they. began to run, dodging explosions and gunfires.

They broke through a gap in the wall and Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, not used to the blinding light of the sun on the snow.

Yelena was stood at the base of the Quinjet they had stolen from Stark, and as she saw her sister approaching she ran inside to start the engines. They lifted off the ground just as Nat managed to throw herself into a seat, the baby still safely in her arms.

They'd taken a bigger jet than the Avengers usually used, so the widow's Bucky had taken from the training room were in a separate area where they could sit comfortably together. But Nat had brought Y/n up to where she was sitting so she could look at her gunshot wound.

"мой ребенок! (my baby!)" Y/n cried out as soon as she was sitting, but Nat was already on it. She soothed the distressed girl and gently placed the baby in her outstretched arms.

The young girl may only have been 16, but she was a good mother. She calmed her child and an old Russian lullaby and gently stroked her head, kissing it softly. As she sat opposite, Nat couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy when looking at the mother and daughter. As wrong as it was, she never had that opportunity, and she hated herself for it every day.

"Can I look at your leg?" The young girl nodded and stretched her leg out, wincing slightly. The bullet had gone straight through which made Nat's job easier. "Okay it just needs a few stitches. May I? This will hurt."

Y/n shrugged and pulled down the bandage on her arm. Bucky had to turn away at the sight of the DIY stitches that were 'holding' the wound closed. Nat took a sharp inhale of breath but kept her calm. That could be sorted out back at the compound.

Y/n didn't flinch once as the stitches were being put in. She kept her eyes glued to the baby, stroking her face softly as she hummed once more.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Nat passed the girl a blanket and stepped back to give her some space. "I'll go check on the others." She said to Bucky, who nodded and went to sit at the controls with Yelena.

Y/n was exhausted but tried to keep her guard up. Her eyes darted around the small room, but it wasn't long before she couldn't fight sleep and her eyes began to close.

~~~

"Hey hey woah! It's okay! She's here. She's right here." Natasha was trying to defend herself against Y/n fists as the panicked teenager attacked her. Nat knew the baby wasn't safe just laying on the bed as the teenager slept, so she moved her to a makeshift cot. But Y/n woke up and freaked out.

"You touched her without my permission!" She screamed, swinging a fist at Nat who caught it just in time.

"Y/n, I was looking after her. You needed the rest." Nat held the struggling girl's fists in her hands and stood still, watching as she breathed hard. "It's okay. She's okay."

With a huff, Y/n pulled her hands away and scooped up her baby, cradling her close to her chest. "She needs feeding," she said bluntly.

"Okay. We don't have anything here but why don't you and I go out today and we can buy some supplies, including a cot for our room?" Natasha asked this more as a peace offering and the girl eyed her suspiciously before nodding.

"The other girls. Where are they?"

"Fury- our director has got new homes for them. Don't worry."

"And me? New home for me?"

Nat paused, thinking about her answer. The truth was, she didn't want to see Y/n leave. Not just yet. Something about the girl had reached out to her, and the slight possibility of having a daughter raced through her mind. Maybe this girl was her second chance, a chance to do something good again. "Well, we wanted to keep an eye on you and the baby. Seeing as she's so young."

Y/n just hummed in response before disappearing towards her room with a slight limp.

"You've got a feisty one there." Came a voice from behind Nat. She turned around to find Wanda snacking on a bowl of cereal, spoon halfway to her mouth.

"Yeah." Her reply was half hearted as she stared at where Y/n was last seen.

"Nat?" She turned to face Wanda once more. "I can hear your thoughts; they're really loud. And I'm gonna say go for it, but be careful. You know what you were like when you first came out. She's not much different than you, you know. Give her time."

Natasha smiled at her friend before grabbing a banana. "Thanks Wands."

~~~

Nat really listened to Wanda's words, which is why she called up the store before they left and asked to hire it out for the day. Stark had more than enough money to make that happen, and Nat wanted Y/n to be as comfortable as possible.

They entered through the back door, and only 2 members of staff were on each level of the huge department store. The bright lights and colourful items were enough to overwhelm Y/n anyway, as she held her baby close to her chest, still wrapped in the filthy blanket.

"You can pick whatever you want, okay?" Nat informed the teenager as they entered, but she didn't respond.

She wandered around, face stoic and eyes wide. Natasha could see the outline of a glock tucked into her jeans, but she didn't comment. Where she got it from was unclear, but it brought the girl a sense of comfort and Nat trusted her not to use it inappropriately.

Nat pointed a couple of bottles and baby clothes out, to which Y/n either shrugged or nodded. She was uncomfortable, but this trip was necessary.

"Okay, how about we look at cribs?"

"Our room?"

"Yeah if you want. But there's a nursery we can set up?"

Y/n thought for a minute. "But- no. Close to me."

"She will be close to you." Y/n looked skeptical. "Okay, how about this. We can get one for our room and one for hers, yeah?"

"Okay. But you don't leave no? No moving rooms?"

Natasha couldn't help but smile. "Honey, I'm not leaving. We can get you your own room if you want? For space?"

"No."

"Okay then."

They walked over to the cribs section and looked at the options. Y/n had relaxed a bit more as she considered the options, reaching her hand out to feel the wood. She'd never had the opportunity to make her own decisions before, and it felt foreign.

But within her focussed task, Natasha failed to notice the shop assistant approaching them, until a bright and cheery "Hi there! Can i help you?" broke through their thoughts.

Y/n immediately jumped behind Nat. Her hand would have reached for her gun if it wasn't so busy holding her baby and newly found protector.

"отойди! (stay back!)" Y/n yelled from behind Natasha, who held an arm in front of her. The assistant looked startled and held her hands up in surrender, taking a few steps back.

"Sorry. Could you give us a minute?" Nat apologised quickly and then turned to Y/n. "Hey, stop struggling." The girl unclenched her fist and placed it on her child's back. "That woman is not going to hurt you. Or your baby. You're safe."

"She stay away!" Y/n grunted through gritted teeth, chest heaving. Nat knew there was no winning this, so she placed her arm around the girl, who didn't flinch like she usually did.

"We don't need any assistance right now, thank you." The now shaken woman nodded and scurried away, not wanting to spend another moment around the assassins.

"We go? Now." Y/n stood her ground, staring Natasha directly in the eye.

"30 minutes. Then we go."

"Fine."

Nat rushed around the rest of the store, grabbing baby formula, clothes, cribs, clothes and tethers. She found a bouncer and play mat, even though the infant wasn't even sitting up yet. She grabbed some clothes for Y/n, some of which the teenager picked out, others that Nat knew she needed. The small girl was currently wearing one of Wanda's sweatshirts and a pair of jeans, both of which were too big. All of the items were sent directly to the compound, so they didn't have to carry anything home. And Natasha made sure to heftily tip the woman who had approached them before, as an apology.

Stark had restricted everyone's access except Nat and Wanda to the areas where Y/n was residing. The girl didn't trust men at all, and even with Wanda she was slightly wary.

But after the intense shopping trip, Y/N was exhausted. And her baby was restless, crying even after being fed and changed. The teenager was frustrated and tired, but she refused to hand the baby over to Nat, who offered many times.

But Natasha had another plan. She turned on a movie on the TV and let Y/n sit on the bed, shushing her child desperately.

"Why don't we try her new crib? Maybe she'll settle in there?"

Y/n looked over with heavy eyelids and reluctantly stood up. Her legs buckled slightly but she continued walking to place the baby in the crib. Nat handed her a pacifier but the teenager stared at her blankly, confused at the item she was holding.

"May I?" Nat asked, gesturing to the child.

"Careful." Y/n hissed.

Nat approached the infant and slotted the pacifier into her mouth, smiling at how her cried were instantly silenced.

"ведьма (witch)." Y/n mumbled, watching as her daughter fell asleep within the minute.

"Спасибо, дорогая. (Thank you darling.)" Nat quipped with a smirk as she watched the teenager climb back onto her bed. "Why don't you come onto mine? We can watch a movie?"

Y/N's eyes filled with fear. "Not Snow White. Please no."

Natasha pushed painful memories down and she shook her head. "Definitely not. I still can't watch it."

Y/n shrugged and hesitantly climbed onto Natasha's bed, sticking close to the edge nearest the crib. But Nat didn't comment. She was too busy trying to suppress her excitement over the improvements Y/n had made in such a short amount of time.

She put an episode of Friends on, knowing it was lighthearted and not likely to trigger any fresh memories that Y/n still had.

But she didn't need to worry. Within 10 minutes the teenager was fast asleep, her head resting on Nat's shoulder ever so slightly. The redhead didn't move. She couldn't. This girl was trusting her more and more. The improvement that had been made in a week was beyond anything Nat had ever expected. She paused the movie and switched off the main light, wrapping her arm gently around Y/n's shoulders.

~~~

(5 months later)

Y/n shot up in bed, chest heaving as she broke out of her nightmare. Her eyes automatically darted to the crib beside her bed... but it was empty.

"Mama! Mama! где мой малыш! (Where is my baby!)" She leaped out of bed and raced out of the room, looking everywhere as she ran to the corridor.

She kept yelling for Natasha, calls becoming more and more frantic the longer it went on. But Nat heard her and called back, summoning her into the kitchen.

"I can't find Talia! Someone must have taken h-" The teenager stopped in her tracks, not expecting what she saw infront of her.

Her 7 month old daughter, Talia, was sat in her high chair, eating yoghurt from the spoon that Nat was feeding her. There were berries scattered across the countertop and with every spoonful of yoghurt came a wipe to the mouth from Nat.

"Little miss over her was extra fussy this morning so I made breakfast. Thought you might want to sleep in a bit more."

Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief and leaned against the doorway for a second to catch her breath. "I thought she'd been taken!"

"Well, she just gets more Natty time, don't you little one?" Talia cooed in response, her tiny fists smushing a blackberry on her tray. "Oh you're a messy girl."

"Here Mama, I can clean her."

"Ah ah! I know what I'm doing." Wanda was sat on the other side of the counter eating a plate of pancakes, but she burst out laughing as Talia squished another berry and it squirted onto Nat's white shirt.

"Talia! No baby. Don't play with food." Y/n said, grabbing another wipe for Nat, who accepted it gracefully.

"Good morning Maximoff, Romanoff, Mini-Romanoff and.... Mini-Mini Romanoff." Tony made himself known as he entered the kitchen, Pepper not far behind him.

Over the last 5 months, Y/n had become more comfortable with the rest of the team, especially Tony who spoilt her rotten. He was forever ordering random items or adding updates to her room with Natasha, even without being asked.

"Good morning Stark." Y/n acknowledged him with a smile.

"Nice moves Grandma!" Tony teased as Nat danced around, wiggling her hips, causing her to pause. She grabbed Talia's soggy rabbit plushie that she had been chewing and hurled it at his head, which he only just managed to duck to avoid.

Talia giggled at the sight of her bunny flying through the air and everyone froze.

"Was that her first laugh?" Wanda asked, and Y/n grinned.

"My clever girl! Mama loves her clever girl!"Y/n picked her up from her high chair and held her up, peppering her face in kisses. Talia giggled even more, kicking her legs at the funny feeling.

Nat sank down onto a chair next to Wanda and watched her new daughter and granddaughter laughing together. Tony had given the child her bunny back, and was having fun playing peek-a-boo with her as Y/n held her.

"They've both done so well." Wanda commented as she watched the scene unfold.

"I'm so proud of her. I'm going to ask Fury for adoption papers today." Nat smiled as she felt Wanda's eyes on the side of her face.

"Really?" Wanda's voice was laced with excitement. "You're going to make it official?"

Nat nodded. "She will officially be Y/n Romanoff. My Y/n Romanoff."

[theemporium]

A number 15 green-eyed mojito with Nico💚

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

15. "What would I be jealous about?”

.

“You’re staring.” 

“I’m observing.”

“If looks could kill, he would be dead.”

“Tragic.” 

“Oh my god,” Jack grumbled under his breath, shooting his captain a concerned look before shaking his head. “Remind me not to piss you off.” 

Nico rolled his eyes. “You piss me off quite often, actually.”

“I—” Jack paused, his eyes narrowing as he lightly jabbed his side with his elbow. “One, that was rude. Two, you need to calm down. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend and you aren’t even her boyfriend. You’re just the jealous part.”

Nico scoffed, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. 

Because, as much as it pained him to admit, Jack was right. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend and he was fully aware of that. But it wasn’t like self-awareness couldn’t exactly stop the bitter feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man openly flirt with you. 

“You know,” Jack continued, something quite like amusement in his voice. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you just grew the balls to ask her out.” 

And he hated that Jack was right again. 

The crush he had been harbouring on you was obvious to everyone with a pair of working eyes. Or at least, everyone except you. Since the day you started on the team, Nico had been all lovesick smiles and longing gazes, practically throwing himself at any social media opportunity he could just so he could spend time with you. It was a little embarrassing and pathetic, all things considered. 

But the worst part was that it had been a better part of two years and Nico had made no move to confess his feelings towards you.

Which then led to moments like now, where Nico had no real reason to feel as irritated as he was over some guy from the media team flirting with you.

“Shut up,” was all he managed to mutter out.

“This is actually really sad to watch,” Jack muttered before sighing deeply. “Just know that I’m doing this because, as your friend and alternate, I’m worried about you possibly breaking your jaw before making a move.”

Nico frowned a little. “What are you—”

But before Nico could even stop whatever stupid move Jack was going to pull, he was calling out your name and waving his hands in such an exaggerated and overly dramatic manner that Nico felt his cheeks heating up. 

“I hate you,” Nico muttered under his breath as you began making your way over.

“You’re about to hate me so much more but I know you love me,” Jack whispered back before he grinned at you, the words leaving his mouth so quick that Nico almost thought he imagined it when the younger boy said, “Nico is jealous.” 

And then, the fucker was running off and leaving a gaping Nico in the dust to deal with the consequences.

You blinked in surprise before you turned to the boy. “You’re jealous?” 

“Me? Jealous? What would I be jealous about?” Nico attempted to laugh off, but it was forced and dry and it didn’t quite land the way he wanted to when he noticed your brows furrowing in concern. “Jack is just messing about, don’t listen to him.”

“Really?” You questioned, watching as Nico quickly nodded in response. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you have spent the last fifteen minutes glaring at Thomas?” 

Nico blinked, feeling the blush spread from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “Uh—”

“For what it’s worth, I’m not interested in him,” you said.

“Oh.” He couldn’t bring himself to care how happy he sounded, how hopeful.

“I’m interested in someone else,” you continued.

“Oh.” The disappointment was clear and heavy in his voice, inklings of the previous jealousy sinking into his response.

“You might know him,” you added, trying to bite back your smile when you watched his nose scrunch up. “He’s a hockey player, has a cute accent and pretty brown eyes. Think he might even be the captain or something.” 

Blood roared in his ears and he was pretty sure his smile was going to split his cheeks, but he didn’t care. “Really?”

“Yeah, but he’s a little blind,” you teased, almost looking a little bashful despite the unwavering confidence in your voice. “I’ve been waiting for him to ask me out but he hasn’t been catching my hints.”

“He sounds a little stupid,” Nico murmured. Maybe he would’ve felt embarrassed if his heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat out of his own chest. “But I bet he’s wondering if you’re free at seven tonight.”

“Let him know it’s a date,” you said, grinning right back at him.

.