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monstersholygrail · 2 days ago

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New City, New Life

5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story

Minotaur x fem!reader—fingering, exhibitionism, rough sex, marking, light spanking, light throat squeezing

Pt1 Pt2

You were stuck blindly walking around your new office building. Not realizing when you made the decision to look for your Minotaur Boss that you have no idea where his office is. Plus, it didn’t help that you could barely stand on your own two feet or that your head was still a big foggy and clouded over with undeniable lust.

The promise of your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor ringing in your ears. He’d take you next time. And boy, you couldn’t wait for the day. Maybe he’d bring his friends again. The idea of trying out all those different cocks that had cum all over your body only minutes ago has you only growing dizzier. Fuck, who are these people you’ve been meeting? No one usually acts like this, do they?

As you walk into an open office area, you grow more and more confused. So many doors. So many places your boss’ office could be. You whirl around to ask for help, but end up tripping over your own feet in the process. A small helpless yelp leaves you as you go tumbling.

But just as quickly as you were about to accept your face and make a total ass of yourself in front of your new coworkers, a pair of strapping arms curl around your plush waist, stopping you from falling. Those same arms pull you in, snapping your hips against theirs. A weak moan falls past your lips and you pathetically melt into the stranger.

You couldn’t help it as their delicious scent washes over you. Oh, you could just burrow into it. It’s then you realize your eyes had closed from the impending fall. They flutter open and immediately look up to greet your savior. You wanted to thank him, but fuck, his sheer beauty just blew you away. You had never seen a more gorgeous Bunny Hybrid in your life and you were briefly distracted in your quest for your boss.

“Hey beautiful, no need to throw yourself at me. Could’ve just taken me right here,” the Bunny Hybrid Secretary said smoothly, his lips pulled into a panty-dropping smirk.

“Huh?”

“I’m the Minotaur Boss’ secretary and he prefers it if I do all my work here. He likes to watch,” the Bunny Hybrid purrs. He tugs you around, pinning your back against his desk.

A small squeak leaves you and your mind immediately falls into the dirtiest depths. His words conjuring so many naughty images in your head that you’re positive he didn’t mean to allude to. Yet your vision blurs with lust anyway. There must be something in the air of this city, you swear you’re not always like this.

Then the rest of his words begin to register and you try to blink the fog from your mind.

“T-the boss, that’s it! Do you know where his office is? I need him— need to see him immediately,” you say desperately, hands flying to the secretary’s hips. His smirk widens at your touch and he leans more into you.

“Oh, so you like it hard and rough, huh? You must be really needy if you’re willing to see him. You only go in there if you’ve been really bad… or really good. But I can take care of you, baby. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Please, I really need his help,” you beg shamelessly. His eyes flash with interest and for a moment you think he’s about to ignore your request all together and keep you pressed against him.

But then his bottom lips juts out into a pout and he releases you. Even going so far as to dramatically turn his back to you and cross his arms. Acting as if all his interest is suddenly gone. Though a quick glance down reveals otherwise.

“Fine, you don’t want me? Then have him! He’s right over there and he’s inside. Good luck,” he huffs and points just across from where the desk sits.

You glance back once more at the Bunny Hybrid Secretary. The urge to go back and show him just how badly you do want him tugs at your chest. But no, this is your job. This is your place of work and today is supposed to be your first day. Definitely not the time. You didn’t think it was anyway.

What you really needed was to find the headhunter who got you hired and finally get to work. In his previous emails he had always mentioned needing to see how well you performed for him. Whatever that meant. But getting in touch with your new boss had to be the best way to find him.

Just as you’re about to knock on his office door you hear a gruff ‘get in here!’ The sound has you jumping in your bones. But your body starts to tingle at the demanding tone of his voice. You brace yourself while opening the door and you know you made the right choice as you walk in. You silently curse under your breath. Why the hell is everyone so damn hot in this city?

Your Minotaur Boss sits behind his desk, his features drawn down into a stern expression. His imposing form appearing almost big as the desk and it has your panties flooding with arousal. His tight suit hugs his raging muscles so deliciously. But what really catches your eye is the silver ring hanging from his snort. A perfect combination of man and beast and it has you weak in the knees.

“Hello, sir, I’m—“

“I know who you are. You’re the new hire,” Minotaur boss says, slowly standing up in a way that has you ready to get down on your knees.

He walks around his desk, beginning to lightly pace as if surveying his prey. His hot amber eyes searing into yours.

“Only your first day and already causing such a disruption in my office.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just been such a hectic morning,” you try and excuse, not recognizing the shakiness or huskiness of your own voice. But Minotaur Boss sure does. He turns to face you, growing impossibly taller as he closes in.

The furious heat, the need, rises up within you once again and a whimper slips past your lips. The tension within the office is stifling and you swear you’re about ten seconds from either jumping his bones or dashing out the door. Given you’re sure you can’t do either, you opt for glancing down at your feet. But Minotaur Boss hooks a hoofed finger under your chin and forces you to meet his gaze.

“And you don’t think we’ve all had the same morning you did? Yet we come here and appear professional and put together.”

While you don’t think everyone in the office has had quite the same morning as you, you get his point. Kind of. You try and pay attention to what he’s saying but all you can focus on is the fact that his face is so close that his small huffs of breath fan your face. His lips so very close to your own. You start to revise the idea of jumping his bones.

“Yes, sir,” you reply slowly, your speech a bit slurred as you feel drunk off his vicinity. His sheer dominating presence washing over you and begging you to submit.

Minotaur Boss smirks as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. It’s like he’s almost doing it on purpose. But no, that can��t be. He couldn’t want you as much as you find yourself desperately wanting him. You two just met. That would be too soon for anyone else.

“Now I think you need to learn your lesson about what happens to naughty little whores like you when they act up here,” Minotaur Boss snaps, his rough voice tickling your senses and turning you on more than imaginable.

Your eyes widen at him but before you can even respond he’s flipping you around and pressing you into the glass wall of his office. You gasp as you’re immediately met with a view of the entire office. You can see them as much as they can see you right now.

Minotaur Boss yanks down your clothes, exposing your wet pussy to the cold air. You shiver against the glass. White hot shame bubbles up in your belly as you look out into the office. Some of the workers watch on, others give passing glances, and even Bunny Hybrid Secretary mouths ‘I told you so.’ But none of them look surprised. Like this is a normal occurrence for them. For some reason that only has your thighs growing more slick with arousal.

You jump as your boss’ thick hoofed fingers glide through your pussy, spreading you wide and catching every little bit of slick that’s gathered. He chuckles darkly and removes fingers, only to moan a second later. The clear sounds of slurping reach your ears and you know he’s tasting you on his fingers. You wanna see that so badly yet you’re frozen against the glass, not wanting to move without his permission.

He hums happily at your obedience and his fingers quickly return to your soaked cunt, rubbing your clit in tight circles. You feel his frame hover over yours and you immediately melt into his embrace. His free hand holds your hip, giving you silent permission to use his strength and get absolutely weak for him. As you sink against him his fingers sink right into your tight heat. A long mewl leaves you at the stretch from his fingers alone. He doesn’t hesitate to start pumping his fingers inside you, curling them at just the right moment to get your hips jerking and meeting his thrusts. A soft rumble moves through your bosses chest.

“I can tell your pussy’s been used well here, so willing to let me in. This city’s been treating you good, hunny.”

You moan weakly, eyes squeezing shut. The way he so bluntly calls you out has you clenching around his fingers. He growls under his breath and picks up his pace, hand snapping into your sopping cunt with brute force. Fingers curling and scissoring you open wide for him. You cry out, body writhing against him. How this man knows your every weak point is beyond you. He hits every sweet spot along your gummy walls he can find and your orgasm builds quickly.

Looking out into the office again you see more people stopping their work to watch you. You can’t help but hide away into the warm chest of your Minotaur Boss. A carful of people was one thing but an entire office felt a bit more daunting. But the way your boss didn’t even seem to care turned you on more than you realized. You quickly find yourself on the edge. Feeling your pussy spasm against his fingers, your boss quickly slips his fingers out.

Before you can let out a single complaint, your boss is stuffing his slick covered fingers deep in your open mouth, silencing you. You let out a noise of surprise but listen to him and focus on cleaning his fingers of you instead of talking. His hand on your hip leaves and you hear the soft clanging of a belt unbuckle. Sparks shoot down your spine and straight to your throbbing core.

When Minotaur Boss pushes his thick cock head through your wet folds you’re already pushing back. A playful shriek leaves you as his tip nudges at your entrance. Your boss’ hands both move to rest on your hips and he teases you, pushing his tip in little by little. You instinctively clench around him, trying to suck him in. He clicks his tongue at you

“What a naughty pussy you got here, hun. Think I’m gonna have to teach it some fucking manners,” he says and slams his entire length inside of you in one solid stroke.

Your back arches unnaturally, jaw dropping in a silent scream. But you don’t even get a second to process the sensations coursing through you as his hips snap back, starting at a brutal pace. Your hands shoot out to brace yourself against the glass but your boss instantly snatches your hands and holds them behind your back. He smushes you against the glass, your body wetly smacking against it with each brush.

“Ooooh— nngh— god! Oh god! Fuck,” you wail, eyes rolling back into your head as he sends your body buzzing.

Minotaur Boss laughs wickedly and you moan again, loving how he uses you. Ready to open your mouth and release more obscenities, your boss shuts that down with a firm smack on your ass and you merely help in response. He smacks your ass again.

“Louder! I wanna fucking hear you, hunny! Gotta welcome everyone in the building with your sweet sweet moans,” he growls, picking up pace, his cock slamming inside you.

Every deep snap of his hips nudges against your cervix and has your eyes crossing. You weakly try and move back against his thrusts but he keeps you pinned against the glass wall of his office. Forcing you to show off every inch of what he’s doing to you to the whole room. And you don’t dare wait a moment before listening to his demands. Your moans echoing off the walls and grating against your ears till you’re sure the whole building can hear you. Every smack of his hand on your ass has you growing even louder.

“H-how can this be so bad but so good? The boss fucking a subordinate. The entire office watching and touching themselves. How does no one get in trouble?” You shout in ecstasy, your eyes flickering to your coworkers who’ve started touching themselves. Some even moving to fuck each other too. Your boss nuzzles into your neck, lapping up your sweat.

“One of the benefits of living in a free use city, baby,” your boss says with another taunting laugh that has your toes curling. But you have no clue what he’s talking about. It’s hard to focus with his cock hammering itself inside your sopping cunt.

“A what?”

“Free use city. Means I can take you whenever and wherever I want. And you can do the same to me or anyone,” Minotaur Boss growls his weak explanation. But it’s hard for him too with your pussy clenching and fluttering around his girth.

Even with the brief explanation your mind spins. Not understanding what the hell is going on. You moved into a free use city? How was that not on any of the brochures the headhunter had given you. He just sent you into this place completely blind.

“But I didn’t…”

Minotaur Boss catches your expression. One of his hands curl around your throat and tilts you back. Your spine arches with it and you moan weakly as your boss slides into your cunt at a new angle, his cock brushing along your sweet spot with each jerk of his hips.

“You saying you didn’t know?”

All you can you is faintly shake your head, your eyes lost in a haze of confusion and lust. Your cunt once again spasms around his girth and he knows you’re getting close again. His own expression shifts, eyes twinkling with mischief as his hand squeezes around your throat.

“Well what a treat for you, eh? Now prove to me how much you belong here and cum all nice and pretty on my cock.”

As if your body was waiting for his command, your belly tightens and the cord snaps as you start coming on his cock. Your juices spraying all over the glass wall as your body thrashes in his hold. Minotaur Boss, as always, maintains a solid grip on you. Fucking up into you through your orgasm until he follows soon after and cums deep inside you, shooting buckets of his hot semen in your belly.

Minotaur Boss works with an efficiency fit for a boss as he slips out of you and gets to work cleaning you up. All you can do is pant heavily against the glass, your mind still whirling from the revelation. Everything that had happened to you since yesterday suddenly making a lot more sense.

But none of the information you had about this place mentioned it being a free use city. Should you have done your own research? You guess so. But the truth about this place shouldn’t have been hidden either. This was all because of your headhunter… and you were finally gonna get answers. You struggle to push off the glass and turn to your boss, once again fully clothed.

“Where— where can I find the headhunter who hired me? I need… to see— to talk to him immediately,” you stammer over your words, still trying to pick yourself back up again.

Minotaur boss settles back in his desk chair, leaning back and looking more than satisfied. But amusement quickly joins in as it dances in his eyes. Clearly finding your situation hilarious. He points down the room and you follow the line of it to a door marked ‘Conference room D.’

“In the conference room but, uh, he might be a little busy at the moment…”

With your destination in sight strength pours back into you. Your legs stop shaking and you stand up a little bit taller. Maybe it’s all the anger flowing through you but you let it propel you forward. Readying to give your headhunter a piece of your mind. And maybe a piece of something else too…

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onlyhereforthestories · 2 days ago

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Chica Medica - Part 5 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

So its been a while (sorry!) You won't have to wait long for the final few parts of this I am half way through the next part. Thank you all who have stuck with me, this was one of the first things I wrote and I feel a little emotional that it is finally coming to an end. Anyway enough ramble enjoy part 5!

You had gone through your whole wardrobe by this point, and you still couldn’t find the right thing to wear. All your clothes were spread around your room in various states of crinkled from the constant changing you had been doing. Nothing was working together or, or you were not feeling confident in others.

You checked you phone to see you had exactly 23 minutes before Leila and Mapi were due to collect you, so you knew you needed to get a move on. Deciding the only way you were actually going to put anything on over the underwear you currently resided in was with some help, you dialled the number of the only person who could sort you out.

Ona picked up on the second ring, “Hola Hermana, what can I do for you?” her smile and voice had the wave of calm you needed right now to stop your mind from its current running all over the place.

“I need help. I have Christmas drinks with the Barca girls tonight and I don’t know what to wear, I have tried my whole wardrobe on and nothing is right. I need you to just tell me what to wear.” Ona could hear the frustration in your voice.

“I’m guessing you are only this stressed about what you look like because of a certain midfielder, you never care about what you look. I’ve literally been to the club with you in joggers before.” You rolled your eyes at the woman before giving her a pointed look through your phone. Now wasn’t the time for memories or teasing you about the fact that you were hyperaware of the brunette that would in fact see you in the clothes you picked tonight.

“Ona please.” You pulled out the puppy eyes and the bottom lip, both of which you knew would get Ona helping you in a couple seconds flat.

“Oh, you really want my help you’ve pulled out the big guns. Okay show me what I’m working with. Ooooo actually do you still have that black silk shirt? The one you wore to you knows party?” you knew exactly what shirt she meant, it was the only item you had not actually tried on tonight, you’d just chucked it to the side.

“I do yes. Is that not like bad luck or something to wear?” Could you really wear a shirt your ex loved on you so much to a party you were so worried about looking good for because of the new person you had feelings for.

“She didn’t buy it for you I did, and you look really, really hot in it so if you want Alexia to drool over you, I would definitely say wear it.” You found it in the pile of clothes and picked out some beige slacks with the help of Ona, you chatted with the Manchester United player while you got ready and only said goodbye when you heard the doorbell ring.

Getting to the hired club was fun, Mapi and Leila had both complimented your outfit and made comments about who you were trying to impress much to your annoyance. The best thing was they both promised to protect or help you if you needed it, something that you almost chocked up on thanking them for. You were very lucky to have such amazing friends around you.

When the three of you got in you could tell it was going to be a fun night, Pina came running over to you all with Patri hot on her heels both had beers in both hands, and you were all passed one. Apparently, a drink had to be drunk as soon as you got in to be allowed to join the big group at the table.

Not one to back down from any challenge, you smirked at the two younger women who gave you the drink as you held the beer up in a semi cheers to them and downed it in a very easy and quick time. When you wiped your upper lip, you couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Claudia’s face. The younger woman’s jaw was on the floor so to say, and she had a slight spark of awe in her eyes.

What you didn’t know was that Alexia had walked in with Jenni just as you raised your beer so got to watch you smoothly chug it. An action from you that she found very hot indeed and even voiced that accidently out loud which put her on the receiving end of a slap to the back of the head from her best friend.

Righting herself and sending a quick but not really meant sorry to the older woman, Alexia walked just behind the little group surrounding you to the table where she was greeted with her own drink to see off as quickly as she could. She took a lot longer and struggled a lot more than you did to do it.

As the night went on the drinks flowed more and more, you had had your fair share but had stopped once the pleasant buzz had fully kicked in. You really didn’t like the feeling of losing your senses anymore, so you knew when to switch to sodas. Alexia had noticed you do this and chose to do the same thing in order to hopefully talk with you when her confidence wasn’t on the floor.

Confidence or not her opportunity came when Leila dragged the people on your table up and to the dance floor and you waved them away, stating you needed to watch and see what moves they were doing before you could join in. An excuse for sure but Alexia wasn’t going to complain.

Taking a breath to calm her already racing heart she grabbed her drink and walked towards you. “Mind if I join you?”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to come over here once they left. You pleasantly surprised me with a little under a minute.” You faced her with a giggle, which turned into a full on laugh when you saw her cheeks heat up. “I am only messing with you, of course you can sit. In fact, I would really like it if you did.” It was your turn to blush now, the alcohol you had consumed earlier obviously making your lips a little looser then they would normally be.

“I haven’t got a chance to tell you how stunning you look. That shirt is incredible.” Alexia wasn’t hiding her obvious attraction to the outfit you were wearing, in fact you could see it swimming in her gaze.

“You look incredible yourself, I do have to admit that open back dress on you will always get to me.” You were again saying a lot, more than you ever had in fact. Your inner thoughts of tracing the tattoos on her back came to mind and you had to shake your head to clear your mind of that briefly.

You did manage to catch her ducking her head at what you said, and it boosted your confidence a little bit. Deciding that you needed another actual drink now that this situation was clearly happening you decided you were not going to do it alone. “Do you want to get a drink with me?”

“I’d love nothing else. Lead the way, but drinks are on me.” Alexia was standing next to where you were sitting in the booth with her hand held out to you, a hopeful look in her eyes. A hopefully look that turned into full blown joy the second you placed your hand in hers and made to stand up.

Alexia was quick to drag you with her to the bar where she got you both a shot and a normal drinking drink. Those were drunk at the bar, the both of you enjoying the time away from the bulk of the group and slightly further away from the music so you didn’t have to shout so much to hear one another.

Alexia had just downed the last of her drink while making direct eye contact with you, taking the obvious hint she was giving you, you downed the last bit of your own. As you put the glass down on the bar you found a hand placed on the small of your back and your body gently pulled in the direction Ale was moving. You ended up on the dance floor with the rest of the girls, you split of slightly from the woman that was always on your mind so you could join the girls that dragged you here.

You danced with them all for an unknown amount of time, you were having the best time, and it didn’t matter who you were with. Alexia would slide up behind you every so often and get you dancing with her before she let you go back to either Mapi or Leila depending on who was requesting your presence.

As the night progressed and you consumed your final drink, you cut yourself off as you knew this was your limit. You knew that if you drank anymore it would go from a fun slightly heavy night to a messy night. Apparently, Alexia was in agreement because about 30 minutes after that final drink she was heading towards the bar to get water, something that you were planning on doing too.

“Did you get water?” You didn’t realise how much you were pressed up to the woman, but she did. Alexia could feel the curve of you pressed up against her and it was sending her head spinning more than alcohol every could. She took a second to compose herself before glancing over her shoulder and answering you.

“Si.” You smiled before requesting that she made that two. With a water in each of her hands she nudged your shoulder to get you moving back in the direction of the booth you were in earlier.

As you and Alexia returned to the booth, drinks in hand, the atmosphere between you was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. The club was still buzzing with energy. Laughter and music filled the air, but here in your little corner, everything seemed quieter, more intimate.

You settled in next to Alexia, close enough that your knees brushed under the table. It sent a spark through you, but you focused on your water, taking a long sip to calm the nerves that had been building all night.

"Did you enjoy the dancing?" Alexia asked, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your ear, and you tried not to let it affect you too much.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at her with a playful smirk. "Especially when you kept sneaking up behind me."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact. "I thought you liked that."

You raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t say I didn’t." The tension between you hung in the air like a charged wire, sparking every time you exchanged a glance or a touch.

For a while, you talked casually; about the team, about the night, both of you skirting around the real conversation neither of you seemed ready to have. But the underlying feeling of something more was undeniable, every small gesture, every laugh shared, seemed to pull you closer.

After a bit of quiet, you glanced over at the dance floor where Leila and Mapi were making a scene with some questionable dance moves. You shook your head, laughing softly. "I don’t know how they manage to be so ridiculous and so fun at the same time."

Alexia grinned. "That’s Mapi and Leila for you. But it looks like they’re having a good time. I think this was really needed for them." You always admired how much the woman cared for her teammates, it was one of the many things that made her such a wonderful captain.

You nodded in agreement but felt the weight of her gaze on you, the air between you growing heavier. The rest of the room faded into the background, and suddenly, sitting so close to her, the only thing you could focus on was the warmth radiating from her body and how easily her presence made your heart race.

Without thinking, you stood up, needing a moment to collect yourself. "I’m going to the bathroom," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "I’ll be right back."

Alexia watched you go, her eyes following you as you made your way through the crowd. The moment you disappeared into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, she stood up, almost on instinct, and followed. She caught up with you just as you reached the door to the bathroom.

"Hey," she called softly, causing you to turn around. Her gaze was intense, her brown eyes darker under the dim club lights. "Wait a second."

You stopped, heart pounding in your chest. "What is it?"

For a moment, Alexia just looked at you, like she was weighing her next words, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you. The hallway was dimly lit, the noise from the club muffled, and the two of you stood close, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

Her hand brushed yours, a light touch that sent a shiver up your spine. "I—" she began, but whatever words she’d been about to say faded into silence. Instead, she leaned in slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t not with her.

Your heart raced as her lips met yours, the kiss slow and deliberate. It wasn’t the rushed, drunken kiss from before; this one was different. It was tender, purposeful, and full of the tension that had been building between you all night. This kiss was meant, you could feel it in the way you both eased into it and melted into one another.

You kissed her back, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, pulling her closer. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the feel of her lips against yours, soft but insistent, like she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"I... I’ve been wanting to do that all night," Alexia admitted softly, her thumb brushing over your hand, still entwined with hers. You got slightly lost in the feeling of her warm breath running over your lips as she was still so close to you.

You let out a soft laugh, your heart still pounding in your chest. "I’m glad you did."

Before you could say more, you heard familiar voices approaching from the direction of the club. You glanced at Alexia, the tension still palpable between you.

"We should get back before they notice we’re both gone," you said, though a part of you wasn’t ready for this moment to end. A part of you knew that if you could you would stand here like this with Alexia for as long as she would allow.

Alexia nodded, but her fingers lingered on your hand for a second longer before letting go. "Right. Yes."

Just as you both started to head back to the booth, Leila and Mapi came around the corner, clearly on a mission to find you. "There you are!" Leila exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "We were wondering where our chica medica disappeared to."

Mapi’s eyes flicked between you and Alexia, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Ohhhh, what did we miss?"

You laughed, trying to play it cool. "Nothing much. Just needed a break from all your terrible dancing."

Leila gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "Excuse me, my moves are iconic."

Alexia chuckled beside you, but you could still feel the tension simmering beneath the surface. You weren’t sure if Mapi and Leila could sense it, but you knew you couldn’t stay here much longer without risking more teasing or worse, revealing too much.

"I think I’m going to head home," you said suddenly, glancing at Alexia for a brief second before turning to your friends. "It’s been a long day."

Leila and Mapi exchanged a glance but didn’t push. "We’ll come with you," Leila offered, her tone softer now. "It’s getting late anyway."

"Yeah," Mapi added, clearly sensing there was more going on but choosing not to dig, for now at least. "Let’s get out of here."

As you all made your way out of the club, Alexia stayed close to you, her arm brushing against yours every so often. You didn’t speak much, but the kiss still lingered in the air between you, full of possibility and unanswered questions.

And though you weren’t quite sure what would happen next, for now, you were content knowing that something had shifted between you and Alexia, something that felt too real to ignore.

The final whistle echoed through the stadium, marking the end of the last game before Christmas. The team had secured a comfortable win, and the energy in the locker room was buzzing with excitement. You smiled, watching the others as they celebrated, but your mind was already elsewhere, on the gift you’d been planning for Alexia.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and you both had flights to catch you were heading home to your family, and Alexia was off to Dubai for a much-deserved break as well as the award ceremony she had to attend. Despite the unspoken tension between you, the connection had only grown deeper, especially after that night at the club. But there were still so many things left unsaid, and you wanted to give her something so that she knows you are thinking of her over the break.

The present you had picked wasn’t overly sentimental, but it was personal. Something that could remind her of your time together while not being overly obvious to anyone outside of the two of you. You had chosen a silver necklace with a pendant that had a small wave on it, echoing the tattoo she had on her arm. To you, the wave symbolized something constant and unyielding just like the ocean, always in motion but forever steady. It was your way of telling her that, no matter what storms or calm seas lay ahead, you would be there, quietly supporting her, just as the ocean never stops flowing. You remembered a conversation you had shared about her tattoo and how it made you feel, how it reminded you that even when things are chaotic, some things, like your care for her, would always remain steady.

Attached to the box that held the necklace was a simple note with "Open on Christmas" written across the top in your neat handwriting. You didn’t dare give it to her directly, it wasn’t a grand gesture, but the idea of watching her reaction made your stomach flutter nervously.

As the team headed for the showers, you saw your chance. While everyone was distracted, you slipped over to Alexia’s bag. Glancing around to make sure no one noticed, you carefully placed the small box deep inside, just under her change of clothes. The note, tucked on top of the box, would be the first thing she’d see when she unpacked the bag later.

Your heart raced a little as you zipped her bag back up, the nerves making your hands slightly shaky. You weren’t sure what Alexia would think, but you hoped she’d at the very least like the necklace, even if she didn’t appreciate the meaning.

Just as you finished, Mapi walked by, oblivious to what you’d just done. "Hey, you ready to head out?" she asked, a wide grin on her face.

"Yeah," you replied, forcing a calmness into your voice. "Just about."

As the rest of the team began to gather their things, you exchanged a few quick goodbyes. With the Christmas break upon you, you’d all be going your separate ways for the holidays. You lingered for a moment, watching Alexia as she packed up her own bag, a small smile playing on her lips as she laughed at something Jenni said. You wondered when she’d find the present, and a nervous excitement built in your chest. You just hoped shed find it before she left, the logical part of your brain knew she would. Alexia couldn’t not unpack and clean away her kit bag after every session, it was something she had told you at the start of your time together.

That evening Alexia did exactly as you thought she would, she was slightly distracted with thoughts of you, slightly annoyed at herself for not speaking to you before she left the grounds. As she unpacked her bag, Alexia pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on getting comfortable. She was just about to pull out her toiletries when her fingers brushed against something unexpected, something small and wrapped. Frowning, she pulled it out from the bottom of her bag, her breath catching when she saw the small box wrapped in simple paper with a note attached.

"Open on Christmas," it read in your familiar handwriting, the instructions clear.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Alexia’s lips as she ran her thumb over the words. You had managed to sneak this into her bag without her noticing, and now, holding the gift in her hands, a warmth spread through her chest. It was thoughtful, quiet, just like you had always been when it came to her.

The next morning, Christmas Eve arrived, and the airport was packed with travellers rushing to get home or off on holiday. You were there early, having left for your flight to see your family. As you waited in line at security, you couldn’t stop thinking about the gift you’d left in Alexia’s bag. You pictured her finding it when she unpacked, seeing the note telling her to wait until Christmas to open it. You just hoped she listened to it and took it with her.

Part of you felt nervous, wondering if it was too much or maybe not enough. But you pushed the thoughts aside as your boarding group was called. You checked your phone one last time and saw a message from Mapi, teasing you about the quiet night in before you both left.

You responded with a quick laugh emoji, then turned off your phone as you headed through the gate.

Later that morning, Alexia was checking in for her flight to Dubai. She was looking forward to the break, but her mind kept drifting back to the past few weeks, and more specifically, to you. Things had felt different lately, not just because of the kiss, but because of how you seemed to understand her in a way not many people did.

She sighed softly, adjusting her carry-on bag as she walked through the airport. The team had celebrated last night, and now they were all headed in different directions. As she sat down in the waiting area for her flight, she thought back to the locker room, wondering if she’d missed her chance to say something to you before you left. But then again, you had both left so many things unsaid.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an announcement for boarding. She stood up, rolling her shoulders to relax, and joined the line for her flight. As she settled into her seat on the plane, she tucked her bag under the seat in front of her, the box with the note she discovered last night tucked neatly in a pocket inside the bag.

After a long flight from Barcelona, Alexia finally landed in Dubai, exhausted but relieved to be away from the whirlwind of the season for a few days. The city sparkled beneath the night sky as she made her way to the hotel, her thoughts wandering to the time off she would finally have to herself.

Once inside her hotel room, the silence felt both comforting and strange. The entire flight had been spent mulling over the last few weeks, her thoughts drifting to you more than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t been able to figure out where she stood with you, especially after that kiss, and the uncertainty had left her unsettled.

Her mind was also on the wrapped gift she now had put on the desk in her hotel room, she could see it from her place laying on the bed. She didn’t get you anything which wasn’t because she didn’t want to, she was just scared it wasn’t the right move. Apparently, you had the bigger balls of the two.

She got up and walked to where the gift was placed, she picked it up and re read the little note on top. Her mind involuntarily making her smile at the thought of you scribbling it. She turned it over a few times contemplating whether to open it now or not.

But it wasn’t Christmas yet, and despite the temptation to tear it open right then and there, Alexia placed the small box on the nightstand. She’d wait until midnight. It wasn’t long, and she wanted to do it properly.

As the evening passed, she showered, had a light dinner, and spent some time aimlessly scrolling through her phone. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the gift waiting for her. The curiosity of what you had chosen for her grew with each passing minute, and as the clock crept closer to midnight, the anticipation made her heart beat just a little faster.

Finally, when her phone’s clock ticked over to 12:00, Alexia got up and reached for the gift, her fingers carefully undoing the wrapping. She peeled away the paper slowly, savouring the moment, until she uncovered the small box underneath. Her breath hitched slightly as she lifted the lid, revealing a delicate silver necklace nestled inside, with a tiny, intricately engraved wave symbol on a pendant.

For a long moment, Alexia just stared at it, running her fingers gently over the pendant. The wave it was very similar to the one she forever has on her arm. She understood it immediately. The constant, steady flow of the ocean, like how you had been there for her, quietly supporting her through her physical recovery and beyond. It was personal, thoughtful, and most of all perfect.

Her eyes fell on the folded note tucked inside the box. She unfolded it carefully, her heart thudding in her chest as she read your words:

Ale,

For all the times you’ve been my steady wave, keeping me grounded even when you didn’t know it. Merry Christmas.

Y/N

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat as she read the message. She hadn’t expected to feel this much emotion over a simple gift, but the weight of your words settled deep in her chest. It wasn’t just the bracelet, it was everything. The way you had been there for her, listening to her, supporting her, even when she hadn’t been sure of her own feelings. The message was your feelings about her, but they very much reflected her own for you too.

She leaned back against the pillows, the necklace still resting in her palm as she stared at it, feeling the emotions swell up inside her. It wasn’t just a gift. It was a message, one that told her, in no uncertain terms, that you were thinking of her, that you cared. That you might well always care if she would let you.

For the first time in a long time, Alexia allowed herself to think about what might come next. You were more than just her physiotherapist. You had become someone important, someone she couldn’t stop thinking about.

As she slipped the necklace around her neck, she made a quiet promise to herself. When she returned to Barcelona, she’d talk to you. Really talk. She wasn’t going to let this connection slip away, not after everything that had happened between you.

She glanced at the clock again, the soft ticking of the seconds filling the quiet room. It was Christmas now, and despite the miles between you, Alexia felt closer to you than she had in weeks. Smiling softly, she ran her fingers over the pendant one more time before closing her eyes, your words still lingering in her mind.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas with your family had been exactly what you needed. It had been cozy, familiar, and full of the warmth you'd missed while away in Spain. You'd spent a few extra days with them, catching up on lost time and letting yourself fully relax before heading back to reality. But after a while, the pull to reconnect with old friends had you itching to get out of the house.

It was Ona, of course, who suggested you stay in England a little longer after Christmas. "Why rush back?" she had said over FaceTime, her face lighting up at the idea. "We don’t have training for another few days, and you deserve some downtime with your friends. Take it."

You’d agreed, and soon you found yourself planning a few nights out with some of your old friends from the England team. That included Leah. The tension between you and her had lessened, especially after you had decided that a proper conversation was long overdue. There were still things to be said, things you couldn’t quite walk away from until they were fully resolved.

So, it was then that you found yourself out with a mix of friends from your past clubs, including Leah, Beth, and a few others. It was a relaxed evening at a familiar bar, drinks flowing and laughter filling the air. You weren’t overly worried about how it might look, knowing that everything with Leah was firmly in the past. But the conversation needed to happen, and tonight felt like the right time.

You and Leah stepped away from the group for a moment, moving to a quieter corner where you could talk privately. The noise of the bar created a bubble of privacy around you both as you began to speak.

"I’ve been meaning to say this for a while," Leah started, her voice soft but steady. "I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I know I didn’t handle things well, and it hurt you more than I realized at the time."

You nodded, appreciating her honesty. It wasn’t easy to dig into the past, but this conversation felt necessary. "It wasn’t easy for either of us," you admitted. "But I’m glad we’re talking about it now. I think we both needed this. I think it’s time for us to both let go of the past and move on with our lives."

Leah smiled, the tension between you dissolving as the conversation continued. It was nothing more than an honest exchange, two people clearing the air. But what you didn’t know was that in the background, someone else had unknowingly captured the moment on their phone.

Beth Mead had been recording a playful story for Instagram, filming some of the team dancing and enjoying the night out. In the background, just out of focus, you and Leah were caught in a seemingly intimate conversation, standing close as you talked quietly. It was innocent, but without context, the image could easily be misinterpreted.

Thousands of miles away, in the luxury of her hotel in Dubai, Alexia scrolled through her phone after a long day. The trip had been relaxing so far, a much-needed break from the intensity of the season, but her thoughts kept drifting back to you. She hadn’t heard much from you since before Christmas, and the uncertainty of where you stood with each other was gnawing at her.

Her thumb paused over an Instagram story from Beth Mead, recognizing several familiar faces in the crowd. She smiled at the sight of you laughing with your friends, but as the story continued to play, her heart dropped. In the background of the video, you and Leah were standing together, heads close, deep in conversation. The image of the two of you, smiling and looking comfortable with each other, sent a pang of jealousy straight through her.

She stared at the screen for a long moment, her mind racing. Were you getting back together with Leah? Had she misread everything between the two of you?

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and opened her messages, typing out a quick message to Ona.

Ale: Hey, I saw something. Is Y/N back with Leah? They were together at a bar, looked... close. Just want to know.

The message sent, and Alexia sat there, biting her lip as she waited for a reply. The logical part of her knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but the image from the story kept replaying in her mind. What if you were moving on with Leah? What if she had missed her chance?

It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed with Ona’s response:

Ona: It’s not my place to say anything, Ale, but trust me it’s not what you’re thinking. Just... give her time to explain when she’s ready.

Alexia stared at the message, her heart still unsettled. Ona’s words were somewhat reassuring, but they weren’t enough to silence the nagging doubt in her mind. She didn’t want to overstep, but the thought of losing you to Leah, especially after everything you and Alexia had shared, was hard to swallow.

Back in England, you were unaware of the storm brewing. The night had ended on a positive note, with you and Leah parting on good terms, both of you agreeing that the past was where it belonged. You felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt like you were finally in a place where you could move forward and you had in mind the person you wanted to do that with, hopefully.

It wasn’t until the next morning, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a missed call from Ona. Confused, you called her back immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, leaning back against your bed, still feeling the contentment of last night’s resolution with Leah.

Ona’s voice was calm but cautious. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Alexia saw a video from last night of you and Leah. She asked if you were back together.”

Your stomach dropped. “What? No, we were just talking. Clearing the air.”

“I know,” Ona reassured you. “But the video doesn’t exactly show the context. You two were in the background, and I think Alexia got the wrong idea. Well actually I know she did.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. Of course, Alexia would see that. Of all the things to misinterpret... You could picture her in Dubai, overthinking everything, and the thought made your chest tighten.

“What should I do?” you asked, feeling the weight of the situation now settling over you.

“I didn’t tell her anything beyond that it wasn’t what she thought. But you might want to talk to her, explain things when you’re ready,” Ona suggested. "She’s over there worrying, Y/N. It’s not my business, but I can tell she’s thinking the worst, which I know isn’t fair to you. You both have baggage, and you haven’t worked this all out yet, you need to talk to each other. And properly Y/N."

You nodded, even though Ona couldn’t see you. “Yeah I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been great at doing that. I wanted to sort the Leah thing before I had that conversation with Ale but maybe I should have been a bit more open after the other night. I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Ona.”

After hanging up, you stared at your phone, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You knew you needed to talk to Alexia, to clear up the misunderstanding. But a part of you also wondered, what did this mean for the two of you. If Alexia was bothered by you being seen with your ex that much surely that had to be a sign of something right. Before you let your head run too much with this, you got out of bed and joined you family for one of your final days before heading back to Barcelona.

Christmas Day passed quietly for Alexia, it was just her mother and sister with her in Dubai, which is all she really needed. It was a much-needed break from the whirlwind of her career, but her mind kept drifting back to you. The silver necklace with the wave pendant had become her constant companion since she found it in her bag and she hadn’t taken it off since she opened it mere minutes into Christmas Day.

She ran her fingers over the pendant absentmindedly as she prepared for the Globe Soccer Awards, where she would be picking up the Women’s Player of the Year award. It was an honour, something she had worked hard for, yet the excitement that usually accompanied such recognition felt muted by the unease sitting heavy in her chest.

Ever since she had seen that Instagram story of you and Leah, a knot of doubt had been tightening inside her. She kept replaying the image in her mind, how close you and Leah had seemed, how comfortable. It had been days since she’d seen it, but she hadn’t reached out to you. She wasn’t sure what to say. Ona’s message had reassured her slightly, but the doubt lingered. Especially as you also hadn’t reached out to her.

As she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the elegant outfit she had chosen for the awards, Alexia glanced down at the necklace resting against her skin. The wave, a symbol you had described so thoughtfully, felt heavier now. She knew what it meant, how much care and thought had gone into your gift, but that only made the misunderstanding hurt more. If you and Leah were rekindling things, where did that leave you and her?

Later that night, under the glittering lights of the awards ceremony, Alexia was announced as the Women's Player of the Year. The room erupted in applause as she made her way to the stage, graciously accepting the award with a quiet smile. She gave a heartfelt speech, thanking her teammates, coaches, and family for their constant support, but even as she spoke, her thoughts were elsewhere, on you.

The night continued in a blur of congratulations and photographs, but Alexia’s mind remained clouded. By the time she returned to her hotel room, the weight of the day had caught up with her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone buzzed with notifications, messages from friends, fans, and teammates congratulating her.

She opened Instagram, scrolling through the flood of posts from the ceremony. As she crafted her own post, thanking everyone for their support, she hesitated. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and almost instinctively, she glanced down at the wave pendant resting against her chest. Without thinking too much, she typed a line from your note into part of the caption.

And finally Merry Christmas. Sometimes in life you need your wave to keep you steady, even when you don’t realise it.

It was a subtle nod to you, one that no one else would pick up on, but she knew you would.

Alexia posted the picture: a candid shot of her holding the award, smiling at the camera with her necklace peeking just slightly into view. That along with the end of the caption she hoped would be enough to show you what the gift and you meant to her. Well at least until the conversation could be had, if you wanted it still after the Christmas break.

Back in England, you scrolled through Instagram while waiting for your flight back to Spain. It had been a whirlwind few days, catching up with friends, clearing the air with Leah and now, you were finally heading back home. As you mindlessly flicked through your feed, Alexia’s post popped up.

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat as you read the caption. It was your words, changed slightly, but still the meaning you had written in the note attached to the necklace. The same words that carried all the meaning behind your gift, now reflected back at you in a public post for the world to see.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, wondering what this meant. Did Alexia understand the depth of your message? Did she feel the same way? Or was this her way of saying goodbye before you’d even had a chance to explain?

Without thinking, you opened your messages and hesitated before typing a quick text to Ona.

Did Alexia say anything to you about that post?

Ona responded almost immediately, as if she had been waiting for you to reach out.

She didn’t mention it to me, but I know she’s been thinking about you. You should talk to her.

Your fingers hovered over your phone as you debated what to do next. The conversation with Leah had cleared the air, but now you were left with a different kind of uncertainty, one that involved Alexia and the feelings that had grown between you. And whether you were really ready for that again.

Taking a deep breath, you opened a new message to Alexia, your heart pounding as you typed.

Hey, I saw your post. I think we should talk when you get back.

The next few days passed slowly as Alexia remained in Dubai, the distance between you both growing heavier with every passing moment. The wave pendant rested against her chest, a constant reminder of you. And as Christmas turned into the new year, the tension between you both, fuelled by misunderstandings, unspoken feelings and lack of communication, remained unresolved, waiting for the moment when you could finally have the conversation that had been building for so long.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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aliwritex · 3 days ago

Text

WITH THE RED DRESS ON mv1

summary: Max finally has a free time, all for his girlfriend after working for so long and he wants to make a night that they’d remember.

warnings/contents: max being a sweetheart, brief mention of reader being petite, garter and stockings, slight size kink and stomach bulge mention. oral (f) and pinv

an: inspired by Red Dress by MAGIC! ENJOY!! (this was so not the dress i was envisioning)

Max had been waiting in your room for what felt like ten thousand lifetimes.

He told you about two hours ago that he had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant. He watched you through the open closet door. Your makeup was done, your hair was ready and you even had a pair of shoes set aside but Max had already seen you try on five different dresses.

He looked at the time on his watch – 09:01 P.M. If you don’t make it to the restaurant before nine thirty his reservation will be discarded and you’ll probably be seated at a terrible table, not the one he picked at the outside area of the place.

At this point, all Max wanted to do was walk into the closet and make you fall apart on his tongue and his cock until you regret making him wait so long. He couldn’t take any more of you wearing only see through panties and those fucking pantyhose as you looked for the next dress.

As he walked over to you, Max debated on skipping dinner and just having you to himself but he remembered why he was doing this anyway. You mentioned how you’ve been working over time and wanted to make a night that you’d remember.

“It’s nine, darling” his hand snaked around your waist, head resting on your shoulder.

“I know, Maxie, just haven’t found anything to wear”

He stared down at the arm wrapped around your waist – 9:05 P.M.

“Put on whatever, you’ll look good regardless” he kissed your neck and walked back out.

Max left the bedroom to refresh, he paced around the kitchen before pouring two glasses of water. He finished his water and even put the cup back before walking back to the room with yours. When he walked into the closet you had already taken off another dress.

“I didn’t even get to see that one on” he handed you the glass.

“It looked terrible, need to get rid of that one.”

“‘kay, you have fifteen more minutes. We need at least five to get there.”

He grabbed your empty glass and made his way back out. Max decided to stay outside to ease his anxiety away so he threw himself on the couch with a sigh before pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly. As much as he tried keeping his mind on his phone it started to wander back to you. You in your pantyhose, you in his shirt last night, you in nothing this morning.

He was starting to lose it but with exactly ten minutes left on the clock he heard the bedroom door close. His head snapped back, chin settled on the couch’s backrest as he looked at you, smiley eyes twinkling in the dim light.

“‘M ready. Can you take my phone in your pocket?”

“Wow”

“Do you like it?”

He walked over to you, taking your hand in his and making you spin around for him. You chuckled at his actions, finally feeling pretty and comfortable in your outfit. He pushed you up against the closest wall and kissed you with need but you stopped him almost instantly, making him groan.

“Thought we were late” you teased “now you have lipgloss on your mustache”

He looked down at you as you wiped his mouth with your thumb. The small red dress fits you perfectly, hugging your chest and snatching your waist before flowing more freely around your hips. Maybe a little too freely, Max thought, as a quick wind could make it flow higher than you’d wish. But you felt good and it was perfect for a summer night.

On the way to the restaurant all he could think about was how he would take that dress off the second you got home.

As you sat down at your table you started telling him how much you appreciated that he used his time off for a simple night like this with you. He wasn’t really paying attention and if you were being honest, you could tell. His eyes were shifting from your lips to your chest to your hair to your eyes but never hearing a word you were saying.

“Max!” you called, pulling him away from his daydreaming “I want the same as always, do you need the menu?”

“Huh? No, sorry”

He ordered for you both, including a red wine and turned back to you, face red with embarrassment.

“Shiraz?”

“What? It’s what you always have with this dish, no?”

“It’s probably the most aphrodisiac wine ever”

“Well, I didn’t know that. But I guess we’ll have a fun night then”

You would’ve teased him about you finally knowing more about something but Max was distracting you too. His beard was more present than normal and you had done his hair yourself, just the way you liked it. But what you stared the longest at were the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, and how his chest filled it.

You eventually caught each other starring and chuckled, quickly falling into daily banter. He had you feeling like a teenager with every small flirty comment about you. When the plates came you were both about to lose your minds. You were feeling hot all over, your feet running up and down his calves under the table.

“Stop teasing me”

“Finish up, we can skip dessert tonight”

Max ate as fast as he possibly could, almost choking from not chewing enough.

Max probably drove over the speed limit all the way back to his apartment but you were inside in less than ten minutes.

“Baby, slow down” you chuckled as he completely attacked your neck and jaw.

He had pressed you against the wall right next to the front door, his hands fisting your wrists above your head as his hips pressed against yours.

“Can’t” he muttered, “you made me wait so long. Just wanted to bend you over in your closet and fuck you so good”

“Maxie” you whined at his proposal.

“I know, love, c’mon, lemme make you feel good.” his hands traveled down to your thighs, pulling them up so he could pick you up and walk you to your room.

You giggled on your way in, his soft hair tickling you as he kissed down the straps of your dress. He placed you on the bed, legs dangling off the edge and kneeled down in front of you. Max reached for your shoes and started unbuckling them slowly.

“Max! Just pull them off.” you told him in a groan.

“You told me to slow down” he kissed your knee.

You rolled your eyes and waited as he pulled them off and smiled when he finally started kissing up your calf. You lifted your torso onto your elbows to look at him as his lips brushed against your skin through your stockings making you shiver. He kissed all the way up to your naked thighs, placing his head between them as he went under your skirt.

You chuckled again and bunched up your skirt around your waist to find his face buried between your legs, kissing closer and closer to your middle. Your hands ran through his sandy hair, messing it up before you tugged on it to make him look up.

“C'mon, Max”

He dragged his lips past your underwear and started leaving kisses up your stomach, biting the skin that covered your hip bones.

“Take this off” he told you and got up from his knees.

Max watched you unzip and take off your dress as he unbuttoned his own shirt and took off his shoes. His eyes caught how your tits were almost spilling out of the thin lace bra and how you shivered as the cold air hit your skin, your hairs going up and your nipples getting hard. He walked back over to you, standing between your knees as he looked down at you.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest?” he ran his big palm up your stomach right to your tits, folding the bra under them. “And look at these, fuck!”

He took one of your tits in his hand and bent over you to mouth at the other. He took everything he could into his mouth, making sure to swirl his tongue around your nipple. You arched your chest into him, running your fingers through the short hair on the back of his head.

“Maxie,” you whined, bucking your hips up to feel him growing against you, “please, need you so bad”

He listened to your pleas and popped your breast out of his mouth, starting to kiss down your sides and leaving a mark right on your ribs. His fingers hooked on the straps that connected the stockings to the garter around your waist and unsnapped them, freeing him to tug your underwear down your legs.

“You know what? I like the straps”

“Thought so” you teased as he snapped them back together and pulled away from you to see them.

Max got down on his knees again, this time throwing your legs over his shoulders to bring your cunt as close as possible to his face. The kisses he left to your thighs were loud and wet, making you squirm in anticipation. When he finally got to your cunt all he did was gently lick at your clit, slowly and barely applying any pressure. He felt you shiver under him as his tongue slowly worked harder against your core, applying more pressure with every small lick.

You pulled his head closer to your cunt, forcing him to dive in properly and push his tongue to your hole. You moaned when he circled it around the opening and took it right back to your clit. Max did love to drive you insane but he was done teasing so he finally took your clit between his lips and sucked on it. You pushed your hips to his face and he smiled, happy with the state he had gotten you to. He took his fingers up to your cunt and spread your wetness around before pushing them in, you clenched around them, feeling them pump in and out of you.

“Max, baby” you whined

“What is it, love?” he asked between kisses to the sides of your thighs “Tell me what you need”

“Just- don’t stop please, feels so good”

Your boyfriend took the encouragement and dived back into you, his lips and tongue working your clit relentlessly as his fingers started curling up inside you. It had been way too long since he last took care of you like this, you were way too sensitive as you felt it build up, a warm and agonizing feeling down your belly. It was too soon and it felt too strong but you couldn’t hold yourself back, the alcohol making you lose all control of your own body. You felt your orgasm take over you like a strong wave, your mind going completely blank as Max groaned onto your core, his fingers still working you all the way through it.

Moans left your mouth freely as you clenched and spasmed around him, your hips rocking back and forth onto his face and hand till they came to a stop. You finally looked down at Max, lifting yourself on your elbows to catch his face completely soaked in your squirt as he looked at you with a smile on his face.

“I missed this” he kissed anything he could reach, stomach, thighs, cunt, “you made a bit of a mess, though, think we’re gonna have to sleep in the guest room.” he chuckled.

“C’mere,” you reached for his arms and guided him to hold himself above you, “please, fuck me.”

“Anything you want, love”

He stood up and undid his belt and pants as you climbed up on the bed so your legs weren’t dangling anymore. Besides everything, the look Max had on his face translated into – mostly – tenderness, he was so in love with you, you were the only thing on his mind and all he wanted was to be close to you. He climbed on the bed, fully bare and positioned himself between your knees, his hard cock brushing against your wet folds made you moan.

“So sensitive, huh?”

You just nodded, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to try to contain any other sound that threatened to spill from your throat. He rested his cock on your stomach for a second, loving to see the comparison of size, before lowering himself to kiss the skin behind your ear. It was one of your biggest soft spots and Max knew it well, making you let out a suppressed moan past your lips. He then went down to mouth at your clavicles as he drove himself into you. Then you couldn’t even try to suppress the moan, it came from deep in your chest, loud, desperate, even. Your eyes screw shut and your nails dug into the skin of his arms and back.

“Look at me,” he asked, “so beautiful, schat. I love you so much, fuck. Gripping me so good”

You just threw your head back, completely lost in pleasure as he slowly dragged in and out of you. His hips moved as slow as he possibly could, watching the way your face curled in pleasure and desperation. It wasn’t like he could go faster, really, you were still adjusting to his girth and he could barely pull out from how tightly you clenched around him.

But when you finally molded around him, allowing space for him to move, he started going at it, thrusting so deep you could see your uterus move on your lower stomach. Despite the ‘roughness’ of his thrusts, Max kissed you soft and gently, a hand caressing your hair as the other lifted your leg up to give you a better angle of his cock, it was all about balance.

“Baby,” you called “let me ride you”

You heard a slow sigh of ‘fuck’ leave his lips before he pulled out to sit against the headboard. You threw your leg over his to straddle him and lifted yourself up only to sink onto his cock again. You both groaned as he filled you up and you reached for his face, his beard scratching your palms as you pulled him closer for a kiss.

“Missed you, missed your cock”

“I missed you too, darling, everyday”

You kissed him again as you started to move back and forth, slowly dragging your clit on his lower stomach. Max’s hands were on your hips guiding your movements as he took a tit into his mouth, licking and sucking at it, at that point your chest was covered in his spit. You felt so much closer to him like that, feeling his chest press to your stomach as you hugged his face to your breasts.

Max started guiding you faster, his own hips moving slightly to match yours. His lips left your boob to kiss at your neck and one of his hands moved down between your bodies, circling your clit with the pad of his fingers. And there it was again, your stomach tightening as you clenched around him.

“Close, schat?” he whispered

You could only whine and hum a positive sound as he rocked you harder on him. You grabbed his face with both hands, bringing him into another kiss. Your tongues were sliding against each other’s as you came around him. Max shot his cum inside you immediately, bringing your hips to a smaller movement so you could ride out both of your orgasms.

“If you don’t stop i’m gonna need another one” you told him after resting your head on his shoulder, his hands finally stopped moving your hips.

“Sorry, darling.”

He left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to the spot below your ear, small pecks that made you shiver. Max rested back against the pillows with you on top of him, taking a somewhat comfortable sleeping position without disconnecting you.

“I love you so much, darling”

#max verstapen imagine #max vertsappen smut #max verstappen x reader #mv1 smut #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #a writes

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puckinghischier · 2 days ago

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Dogtooth

jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding

summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator

notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[2.3k]

dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.

it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.

he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.

and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.

he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.

and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)

you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.

no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.

he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.

finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.

“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.

you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.

“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.

he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”

grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.

“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.

you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”

“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”

said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.

“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.

he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.

you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.

“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”

jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.

“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.

his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?

before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.

“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.

“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.

jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.

he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.

you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.

“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.

“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.

“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.

“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.

“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.

it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.

“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.

you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth.

suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.

the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.

you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.

jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.

the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.

“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.

jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.

fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.

“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.

jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.

your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.

jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.

with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.

“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.

jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.

his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.

you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.

the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.

“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.

you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.

jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.

he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.

your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.

he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.

once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.

“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.

“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.

you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.

jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.

“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.

he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”

you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”

he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.

“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.

it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.

“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.

“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.

making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.

“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.

“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.

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autumnscribbles · 1 day ago

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tutor girl | rc

pairing: frat!rafe x college!reader

summary: y/n and rafe were never on the same level, but after a party at his frat that forms an unlikely friendship, rafe asks for her help

request by anonymous

warnings: drinking? i think that’s all

wc: 2k

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘

You closed up your laptop and textbook as your professor said his final few words of the lecture. You were tutoring someone right after, and didn’t want to make them wait around in the library.

You gathered your things quickly and stood up, keeping your head down as you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye tutor girl,” you heard a voice call behind you.

You turned to see Rafe Cameron, smug grin spread across his face as he waved at you. You rolled your eyes as you always did and started to make your way to the library.

“You know, tutor girl, it wouldn’t kill you to look up from a book and have fun every now and then,” he teased.

You didn’t know why he always had to speak to you and taunt you with his dumb nicknames. You had no friends in common, and ran in completely different circles, yet he relentlessly went out of his way to tease you.

You arrived at the library first, and sat down at your usual table. Leah, the girl you were tutoring, was starting to become almost a friend to you. You two usually spend the beginning of your sessions just chatting and catching up. You saw her red hair before you saw any other part of her as she breathlessly sat down in front of you.

“Sorry I’m late,” she breathed. “You know how Callahan can be.”

“Oh, do I ever,” you chuckled.

“You going to that party tonight?” she asked casually as she took out her notes for you guys to go over together.

You shook your head, not hearing about any party. Your Friday nights were usually spent binge watching shows or reading a book tucked under your blanket. You didn’t go out much, and you liked it that way. You enjoyed spending time with yourself.

“You have to come!” she exclaimed. “I thought Ella would have invited you already. It’s at that frat house, the red brick one, alpha something.”

You weren’t surprised Ella, your roommate and friend, didn’t mention it to you. She knew your answer would probably be no, so eventually she just stopped asking. You decided maybe tonight you’d step out of your comfort zone. For some reason, Rafe insinuating you didn’t know how to have fun was bothering you. You could have fun. What did he know?

Just for a few hours, you told yourself, so people don’t think you’re so boring anymore.

“I’ll be there,” you grinned.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You look hot!” your roommate, Ella, screeched from behind you.

You blinked as you placed in your second contact lense, waiting for your vision to un-blur.

“Not as hot as you,” you told her. “I feel so weird.”

She reassured you that you looked great. You felt a little self conscious, but tried not to let it get to you. Tonight was about having fun. Letting loose, have a few drinks, talk to new people. It would be fine. The clothes you wore and how you looked were secondary.

You shoved your phone in your pocket as you and Ella made your way outside. The frat house was only about 5 minutes away on foot, an easy trek.

“Do you know anyone at this party?” you asked.

“A few,” she answered. She listed off a few names, all of which were unfamiliar to you except one.

Rafe.

“Rafe Cameron?” you asked, trying not to sound too curious.

She nodded affirmatively, making you let out a sigh. Just what you needed, Rafe teasing you about the way you looked, or about you being nerdy. Whatever. You just had to show him how to have a good time, that he didn’t know you like he thought he did.

You let Ella walk in first, suddenly feeling a rush of nerves overcome you. You hadn’t been to a frat party, and you had no idea what to expect. You just knew there would be a lot of booze, and a lot of idiot men.

The loud music pounded in your ears the second you walked through the door, and it was a lot…sweatier than you imagined. The temperature of the room rose from all the body heat. Girls in little clothing were grinding against boys who didn’t seem to even know their names. Red solo cups strewn on the floor that had a perpetual sticky feeling.

“Let’s get a drink!” Ella yelled into your ear over the music as you both made your way to the kitchen.

The counter was lined with alcohol bottles, various juices and mixers, and a big bowl of what appeared to be punch of some kind. You reached for a red cup from the pile, a hand interjecting you.

“Tutor girl!” Rafe cheered. “What are you doing here?”

Of course he found you immediately.

“It’s Friday night,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“That it is, tutor girl, that it is,” he nodded. “Let me make you a drink.”

You grabbed the cup back from him, cocking your eyebrow.

“I can do it,” you told him. You didn’t trust any of these boys to make you a drink.

He raised his hands in defence, taking a step back to let you have free access to the contents in front of you. You mixed yourself a drink, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into you. Ella had left your side, probably seeing someone she knew and running over to them.

You took a deep sip of your drink, knowing you needed some liquid courage to get you through the night. You heard Rafe say something, but couldn’t hear him over the music. You asked him what he said and he leaned toward you, his warm breath behind you ear.

“I said I like you better with the glasses,” he repeated.

You couldn’t help the blush from forming on your cheeks. You were used to people telling you they liked you better without them. You had always wondered if you should wear contacts every day. Your blush disappeared when you realized who you were talking to. He was being sarcastic, making fun of you.

“I’m gonna go find Ella,” you told him before turning on your heel and walking away.

She was standing by a table playing beer pong, excitedly waving you over. You weaved through overly sweaty bodies to stand next to her. She told you she needed a partner, and you reluctantly agreed.

You went first, bouncing the ping pong ball off the table, and landing it straight in the cup in the front.

“Drink up!” Ella cheered, as Topper chugged the cup in front of him.

You continued, landing almost every throw, everyone around the table cheering you on as you scored the winning shot.

“Who knew tutor girl could kill all of us at beer pong?” Rafe said from behind you.

He smirked at you, moving to the other side of the table.

“Let’s 1v1,” he challenged you, his bright blue eyes narrowing playfully.

“You’re on, Cameron,” you muttered.

“You’ll regret that, tutor girl.”

The beer coursed through you as Rafe landed his ping pong ball in your cup repeatedly. At this point, it was like you were just taking turns drinking then scoring. The room was slightly spinning around you, but you stayed focused. You were determined to win. You both had one cup left, and it was your turn.

“Don’t choke,” Rafe intimidated you from across the table. His gaze was locked on you, making you nervous.

“As if,” you scoffed, sending your ball straight into the cup.

Everyone cheered, jumping around you drunkenly. The other boys in the frat were teasing Rafe, who apparently almost never lost beer pong. You hadn’t even expected yourself to be good at it. A hidden talent, you smiled to yourself.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You stumbled up the stairs, looking for the bathroom you were told was up here to the left. The hallway spun as you walked in to the first room on the left. You realized quickly it wasn’t a bathroom, but a bedroom. You slumped on the floor, feeling tired from dancing for what felt like the last hour.

You couldn’t remember the last time you drank this much, and sometimes sitting on the floor was appealing. You’d get up in a second and find the bathroom. You shut your eyes a moment, you head spinning, before being scared by a sudden voice.

“Tutor girl,” he said. You could hear the smirk on his face without even needing to see him. “What are you doing in my room?”

“I was looking for the bathroom,” you slurred. “But I needed a rest and the floor seemed comfortable.”

“You were only a few feet short,” he chuckled.

You shrugged, laughing to yourself. He sat down beside you, making your body stiffen at his sudden presence so close to you. You were expecting him to kick you out of his room.

He held a bottle in his hand, passing it over to you to take a sip. You took a swig and instantly regretted it, your face grimacing in disgust. Rafe chuckled beside you as he took a swig himself.

“You know,” he started. “I underestimated you, tutor girl.”

There he goes again with that nickname. Will he ever call you by your name?

“Because I beat you at beer pong?” you asked.

“Nah I knew you’d be good at beer pong,” he answered. “You were probably doing some physics shit in your head or something.”

You let out a cackle, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. You hadn’t meant to laugh that hard.

“You have a great laugh, y/n,” he slurred, tilting his head back.

You stopped at the sound of your name leaving his mouth. You don’t think you ever heard it.

“Wow,” you sighed. “Not tutor girl?”

“Oh you’re still tutor girl,” he replied quickly. “But I meant I underestimated how cool you were. You’re fun.”

“You’re just drunk,” you said. “Tomorrow you’ll go back to ignoring me except to make fun of me.”

He stared at you blankly, not knowing what to say. For once, he didn’t have a witty comment. You didn’t know he did the opposite of ignore you. In fact, he was always paying attention to you. The way your eyebrows furrowed when you were typing your notes out, the way you leaned your chin on your hand when the professor was talking, the smoothness of your voice when you explained a concept to a student. He saw you.

“I’m not making fun, tutor girl,” he whispered. “You’re very intriguing.”

“There it is again,” you sighed. You stood up finally, your urge to pee stronger than ever. You snatched the bottle from Rafe and took one more swig before finally going to find the bathroom.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Monday morning, you sat in class, chin resting in your hand as the professor drawled on. You pushed your glasses up as they slid down your nose. You practically jumped out of your seat when the class was finished. You were starving.

“Tutor girl!” you heard a voice call from behind you. You turned to see none other than Rafe jogging towards you, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you asked, annoyed he was keeping you away from the sandwich you were about to buy.

“I have a proposition,” he started. “I need help with this class. My grades are slipping and I just can’t understand anything. Would you help me?”

You let out a laugh, stopping when you realized he was serious.

“Are you messing with me?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I seriously need help. And I thought who better to ask than…tutor girl!”

You rolled your eyes, as always. But you reluctantly agreed.

“Can we start now?” he pleaded, clutching his textbook in his hands.

“Rafe,” you sighed. “I’m starving, can we do another day?”

“I’ll buy you lunch!” he exclaimed. “Your prize for beating me at beer pong.”

“Fine,” you agreed. “But we aren’t friends just because we sat on the floor drunk together.”

“Whatever you say, tutor girl.”

You rolled your eyes once more, but couldn’t help but lift the corners of your mouth, knowing without having to look that he was smiling as he trailed behind you.

#rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks #obx #obx imagine

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fulloflambing · 2 days ago

Text

࣪ . ִֶָ๋ KINICH: ❝ HEAVEN CAN WAIT. ❞

pairing: kinich x afab!reader (uses she/her) synopsis: during the invasion of the abyss, the bond between you and kinich is put to the test when you're both lost in the chaos searching for eachother, as he fulfills his sacred duty as one of the heroes of Natlan. warnings: spoilers of the 5.1 archon quests! lots of bodily injury + descriptions of gore, the war ingame is described in a darker way here, cursing, many mentions of death. wordcount: 5.4k cho’s notes: PLS SRSLY LISTEN TO THE INJURY WARNING!! i might be a little dramatic but theres an injury here that made me geek when i was writing it idk. this is basically 5.4k words of me pretending to understand the mechanics of the ode of resurrection 😭 i was inspired to write this after playing the 5.1 aq! hope u guys enjoy this, happy reads <3

taglist: @sillywinnertidalwave

Today marked the exact moment the people of Natlan realized that the abyss weren’t just these noisy hilichurls you see camping in the meadows or the occasional mages you’d encounter in the caves; The Abyss was a ruthless cult of monsters with their uniform goal of bringing humanity to its demise.

‘It was never supposed to get this bad.’ was the only thought racing through Kinich's mind as he swung from cliffs to trees as fast as he could, the muscles in his arms feeling like they could rip apart if he swung one more time, his head slightly burning with exhaustion and heart racing with overwhelming pressure.

People were getting massacred on the ground underneath him, as numerous warriors and guards pushed themselves beyond their limit to fend off the neverending wave of rifthounds and hilichurls coming from the illuminating pylons—and he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when everyone and everything needed his aid, all at once.

But Kinich had someone to come home to, and it was you.

The last moment of peace the both of you had together was just earlier today; Sipping coffee and eating fruit together, discussing light subjects to try and distract each other from the rising attacks of the abyss, totally oblivious to the fact that Natlan would be dragged into war by them hours later.

He felt like it was just a minute ago when you sat in front of him, and glowed under the sunlight, slicing apples intricately as your lips spilled words. ‘How could this happen?’ he thought.

The image of you smiling, your face full of faith pulsed in his mind, making his stomach twist when his eyes landed on the village of the Scions of the Canopy; it was on the brink of ruin.

Caravans and carts were being ripped open with the goods spilling onto the ground only to be squashed, children getting dragged by desperate parents, greedy businessmen clawing at their money hoping it would save them, and the scattered limp bodies of innocent natlanese. The sky loomed over everyone’s heads in an eerie color, only amplifying the hopelessness he rarely felt in his chest. The scent of blood and burning ash filled his nostrils the second he violently landed onto the oversized canopy, mildly hurting his ankles in the process.

“Y/n? Y/n!” He called out among the frenzy, his eyes darting to every face he could spot. He got on his heel and started running— desperate that you wouldn’t appear as one of the bodies that were left to rot on the ground.

He raced to your house, and tried to push the door open with no luck. He had no time to care for it, and just slashed through it with his bulky claymore and bursted into the room, his eyebrows knitted together, pupils dilated, cold sweat on his nape. His eyes don’t spot you in your usual leisure spot of your common room, making his heart drop. He checked all other rooms, and finally opened your bedroom:

You weren’t there.

You weren’t anywhere.

His heart hurt with every beat, and he desperately clawed at his chest trying to get back his calm composure he was always known for. But what for?

“Just give it up, that peasant probably turned into abyss food long before you even got here. Stop wasting your time, my time!” Ajaw suddenly hissed out, his words filling kinich’s mind with poison.

Imaginations of your body growing limp and cold, face turning blue, and blood oozing out from some part of your body as rifthounds dug through your flesh flashed through his head. And he tried to stop it. But with the spinning of his head and the lifelessness of your house that was once so full with your laughter, it just kept getting worse.

He stood with a lowered head, his hand gripping his claymore so tight his knuckles turned white. He fought back tears as his mind danced like a kaleidoscope. To him, there would be no use in saving Natlan, if you weren’t in the picture.

He was supposed to not let his will in defeating the abyss sway at all, you wouldn’t want that. No one would want that. He doesn’t either. But now faced with the odds that you might not be able to experience a Natlan that is finally free from centuries of prejudice, after you’ve been by his side telling him to have faith that the day will come, and the dreams you want to accomplish when everything is finally okay— It seemed unfair. SO unfair.

He whispers to himself, or rather to anything who was willing to listen, with a shaky voice: “If only one wish of mine can be granted for my whole lifetime, please.. Keep her safe. That’s all I ask.”

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The clashing of weapons against the shelled skin of the abyss monsters zipped through the air, as you swiftly dodged the claws of a relentless rifthound; you’ve been doing this for hours now.

You were helping your tribe, the Scions of the Canopy, strengthen its defenses before the outbreak until you were called by a messenger to help strengthen defenses of an adventurer’s base southeast of the village as it was being easily overwhelmed by the enemies. As the head of preparing defenses from the village, you happily obliged.

But now you were almost hours into battle, with your body aching in all different spots, as you tried your best to continue evading the insistent attacks of numerous monsters. You couldn’t find the energy to swing your sword with maximum strength anymore, so all you could muster up was to dodge them.

“Fuck! Will you ever quit!?” you yell, before pushing yourself beyond your limits again, attacking with frustration. You slashed through the tough skin of the rifthound with your dendro-infused blade, making it dissipate into purple smoke with a screeching growl before fading into the air.

You had a second for a breather and took a deep breath, which you regretted immediately. “ugh!” you cried, falling to your knees, grabbing your side. You recall the moment you heard something snap when a hilichurl swung its wooden baton at your side when you were busy confronting a different monster. You broke your rib, and it was now piercing your lung.

You stared into the dirt, forehead collecting sweat. You took your hand off of your side, seeing blood paint your palm a deep scarlet. You touched your forehead, and brought your hand back to your eyes— You were bleeding. everywhere.

Your eyes sting with tears, the reality of the situation slowly setting into your head— The chances of you leaving this battlefield alive was slim. Your teeth press against your bottom lip tightly, the pain being incomparable to the injuries you’ve sustained.

‘I’m sorry kinich.’ echoed in your mind. Kinich had been training you recently, for you to be ready in case of an invasion and he wasn’t there to protect you. But here you are, head-first onto the ground, realizing you’ll probably die in the next few minutes.

‘I’m sorry kinich.. I’m not built for this.’ you whimpered, tears slowly trickling down your face. You felt so heavy with hopelessness, you felt like you could start sinking into the solid dirt beneath your body.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You were only supposed to continue helping people fend off the abyss for a few more days, until the Pyro Archon solved the crisis. And after she did, you would’ve explored places outside of Natlan with Kinich. Sumeru was the first region you both agreed to visit; It was always a dream that you shared together to travel all of Teyvat one day. Hell, you even had a hunch he’d propose to you somewhere down the line of your voyage.

So why are you kneeling on the floor, bleeding from every possible corner of your body, accepting your demise as your comrades slowly thin in number?

‘How long do I have to keep this up? I feel like if I swing my sword one more time, my arms will come flying off. I can’t do it anymore. This is something only strong people can do. Strong people like kinich. I can’t. I just can’t. I ca-’

Woosh!, Your ears picked up the sound and you jumped to your feet, barely escaping the blade of an enormous mitachurl that almost claimed your head.

You tumbled lightly onto the ground, before you hold your sword up again with both your hands, your limbs trembling hopelessly in the gaze of the towering monster over you with demonic horns. You almost drop your blade and just let it kill you right then and there.

But kinich appeared in your thoughts.

The mitachurl was standing the way the dummy kinich built for you was. Kinich’s voice instructing you rippled in your thoughts: “swing your sword down to the left, diagonal to the body. Then, slice up to the right, also diagonally. For the final blow, strike straight down the crown of its head, taking force from your shoulders. ”

You listen to kinich on repeat a few times, drawing imaginary lines on the body of the scowling mitachurl that stomped closer to you. You gulped the lump in your throat, before you did exactly what kinich taught you.

You twist your body with your edge in the air, taking a (painful) deep breath before swinging your blade to the left in a declining path. The mitachurl stumbles back at your sudden strike making an mmgh! sound, breaking down some of its armor. You quickly slice back up in the opposite direction before it could react any further. Your shoulder burned with every twist, but you had to keep going.

As it stumbled one more time, You bring your weapon above your head, and ignite it with dendro, causing a deep green aura to emit from your person. You meet eyes with the monster; It looked horrified. You stood there ready to take its life, appearing like a monster yourself with the blood that dripped down your head, your eyes seething with revenge.

You spare no more time before completely slicing straight down its head with maximum precision. A loud growl slowly faded with the noise, just as its body did, turning into a dark smoke.

“If my life is going to end with this battle, then please grant my final wish—” You whispered, looking at your blood-stained hands, hoping the heavenly principles could hear your wish among the deafening sound of war:

“—Please.. Keep kinich safe for me.”

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

The people seeking refuge in a temporary hideout turn their heads at the noise of their beloved heroes walking into the space. ‘Baraka’ Xilonen, ‘Umoja’ Mualani, ‘Uwezo’ Iansan, ‘Bidii’ Ororon, and ‘Vuka’ Chasca. There was only one more hero missing.. ‘Malipo’ Kinich.

Kinich had just rounded up civilians he saved from the village, and brought them there for safety. His gaze met with his friends, before he carefully placed a baby he was protecting into the arms of its mother— The baby had your eyes, which gravitated him into holding it just a little longer. He walked over to them with heavy steps, still trying to keep his composure despite the pain weaving his insides; just like them.

“It’s the final phase of mavuika’s plan. We have to get back to the stadium, and help her with the Ode of Resurrection.” Xilonen says. “Can you do it?”

It’s not like he had any other choice so he just nodded, not being able to muster up the strength to talk.

“Kinich.. Did something happen?” Mualani asked, taking notice of his silence as she placed her hand on his shoulder in support. It was clear she was just as broken down as he was, covered in bruises and scratches. But she continued to stay strong and pulled an empathetic look for him, trying to get his lowered eyes to meet hers.

“I.. couldn’t find y/n.” Kinich barely mumbled, the dread he felt earlier coming back to him, feeling like it only got worse verbalizing it. His eyes stuck to the ground, refusing to peel away.

The five heroes suddenly feel the air grow thick, a gasp leaving Iansan and Mualani's lips. This reaction only made the feeling worse, his fingertips digging into his palm. ‘Why does it have to turn out like this? I don’t fucking get it. It’s unfair. Not fair. Not fair to me, to her.’

The five struggled to find words to say, but ajaw quickly filled the space, spitting out: “Fear not lowly humans! For when Kinich finally slips in this final fight and accidentally ends up kicking the bucket, I, the almighty dragonlord, k’uhul ajaw! Will reign over this world once more! And the abyss will no longer be the biggest threat Natlan has faced!” The 8-bit monster laughed proudly with its jagged voice.

Kinich suddenly snapped at the puny dragon: “Zip it ajaw. Let’s go.” before stepping out of the hideout. The heroes gave each other glances, before silently following after him. They weren’t scared of kinich releasing ajaw, they knew kinich would never do that to them. But it was him they were worried about.

Kinich never handled loss well. It often resulted in.. Accidents. Towards himself.

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You continued to fight your way to survival, the dendro vision hanging by your hip flashing every few seconds. You shifted your focus to destroy nearby pylons. Your hands had bruised, and slowly became callused and firm. The amount of blood loss you’ve endured has slowly started affecting you too, as your actions started getting sloppier, following your sight getting hazy from time to time.

‘Ching!’ You sliced through the last mitachurl around— atleast, last one before another one spawns—and fell to your battered knees. You sat there, gasping, your body begging for air.

“Y/n!” a fellow comrade called out, rushing to your side. You can hear him mumbling something to you, but it’s incoherent. You looked at your dirty, bloodied hands, ‘what an ugly sight.’

“Just.. keep pushing on y/n.” his words sound muffled to you and almost accompanied with sand; he’s losing hope too.

Without warning, a bright beam of light suddenly shot up into the air, emerging from somewhere in the distance.

‘Huh?’ You look up.

The ray of light exploded into a star, making you wince at the glare. The explosion was so grand, you felt the earth tremble all around you, and even felt a slight radiance of heat reach your skin, even when it was suspended so close to the stars.

The warriors and monsters’ brawl comes to a pause, all beings turning their heads to the magic unfolding above their heads.

You look back up once more. It’s the Pyro Archon.

“In the name of the Pyro Archon, Haborym,” the transcendent voice sends chills down your spine.

“I declare the Night Warden Wars underway—”

“—The Ode of Resurrection will guard all life, until the war is over!”

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Kinich might’ve lost his mind.

With the Ode of Resurrection, there was nothing in his way to contain the blood rushing through his veins anymore, the flame pumping his drive. There was no limit to the blood he could pour, no limit to the bones he could snap, no limit to the wounds he could take; There was no more life that kept him from death, and no death to threaten him to life.

He shot himself through the trees and cliffs and plunged into the ground, slashing right into an abyssal pylon, immediately shattering it into pieces. The abyss that caught sight of his unhinged eyes, became the last thing they saw. He swung his blade relentlessly, calculated with maximum precision embedded into every strike. Every blow he landed would end a life point-blank, not wasting a single movement. No monster could keep up with the speed of his assault, their death delivered to them in a blur.

A hilichurl had taken an open opportunity to stab him right through the heart from behind. He felt the flame inside him flicker for a second.

‘Again.’

He ripped the double sided polearm right out of his chest, before skewering the same hilichurl right through its chest with the same weapon. A cryo mage quickly sent icicles to penetrate through his limbs and vital organs. He felt the coldness pierce into his insides, feeling the flame inside him flicker for a second time.

‘Again.’

He swiftly turned around, and spun his claymore right into the mage, beheading it in the process. The mage had evaporated to its death, as his claymore spun right back into his palm, snug as a glove. A hilichurl decided to charge into his tall figure and stab him with a dagger, puncturing his abdomen. His flame flickered for the third time.

‘Again.’

He sliced down on the hilichurl, making it dissipate into the air with a groan. He pulled out the dagger from his body and carelessly threw it onto the ground. Noticing the area was clear, he flung himself back into the air, swinging himself through the thick trees and long branches. They would momentarily graze his skin, cutting and wounding him but it was nothing to him, not anymore.

His void eyes scanned through the rocky terrain underneath his feet, searching for your figure. ‘You have to be here. Somewhere. Anywhere.’ His thoughts of you distracted him from an incoming tree, before flying straight into its tree branch, his body getting skewered in the process. He let out a loud cry of agony— “aaghh!”—, hearing static ringing in his ears. His bewildered eyes landed at exactly where he got impaled before feeling his head go fuzzy, his eyes slowly losing light, and his body going limp. He feels his flame flickering once more.

‘Again.’

Life is shot right back into him as he braced himself again, taking a deep breath, and pulling himself off of the tree branch. His injury immediately punished him, making him wince. He took one last look at the tree branch covered in his gore before swinging himself again. He looked at the gaping hole in his abdominal cavity slowly patch and fill itself again, and for a moment he’s completely mesmerized by the power of the ode of resurrection.

In his mind, he punished himself for not being by your side, for not protecting you. And his mode of punishment would be feeling your misery over and over again. The sensation of burning pain ending up to his death just to wake up again completely alive again all in a split second was intoxicating. He was preserving life, as he toyed with his own.

In his mind, he would rather die a million deaths than find out he’d be alive without you around.

“Listen to me bastard! I’m starting to appreciate this new thing you got going on, you know, like actually following your master, me, Almighty dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw! and using your vision for something exhilarating like ending lives. But I HATE! how i’m getting excited to take your body everytime you go floppy, but you just wake back up! It’s so ANNOYING!! So just keep it up until the fire-head woman turns the ode of what-ever-you-call-it off, and you stay dead. Alright!?”

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Mavuika looked longingly onto her people fighting for their nation underneath her feet, as she levitated in the dark sky. It was a surreal simulation to her; It was her that was the catalyst for their dreams and hopes. It left a deep impression of justice, duty and pressure on her.

Mavuika took a deep breath, before feeling a surging power slither all throughout her body.

‘This has to end, now.’

She collected all the dreams her people have relayed to her, the hopes for a future guided with justice and equality, their ancestors and their prayers for Natlan, the lives of her beloved followers who had been sacrificed and martyred, into her fist and made it into her strength.

Her hair ignited into its flamed form, as she shot out all the might and glory of Natlan into a beam of radiance, targeting the abyssal body that was the sole cause of terror over her nation.

The Celestial body forms a temporary glowing shield to stand its ground, until it doesn’t.

It slowly starts shattering like thin glass, making her attack on it only more powerful. Her thrash breaks through until it exploded into a dark fume, her light piercing right through it and into the distant sky. The sky carries the sound of the thundering explosion, shaking nature all around.

The black cloud slowly starts fading, revealing the eradication of the Abyss.

The black sky lifts off of Natlan, revealing the blue once more. You choked out the blood that’s been pouring in your mouth for the longest time as you finally finish off the last creature in sight. The Abyss had been eliminated by the Pyro Archon, and no more would spawn. Dulled and scratched swords, torn bows, and unfortunate martyrs polluted the grassy field around. The noise of battle could still be heard somewhere distant but not around you anymore.

You spat and coughed out blood onto your palm, your other hand clawing and digging into your chest trying to calm your rampaging heartbeat. You heard your remaining comrades cry and yell out of grief and solace. The words they yelled were incoherent, only being able to hear ringing.

But you could almost make out what they're saying, somewhere along the lines of: ‘It’s over.’

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Kinich’s eyelids slowly peel open, feeling the heat of the sun greet his eyes immediately making him wince. He sits up and tries to gain back his senses, letting out a sore groan.

Ajaw perches up at the sound, and starts roaring in his ear: “You were supposed to be dead! I was so thrilled to finally take over your cold body, finally thinking of the horrors I'd run to this land, just to find our contract not working! Just bite the dust already you useless asparagus! Curse the archons!”

“Wh-what happened?” Kinich croaked, his throat stinging him in the process. Completely ignoring ajaw’s tantrum, he looks at the nature around him; There were dismantled weapons, a few dead bodies scattered meters apart, and an awful lot of silence.

“The fire-head woman destroyed the abyss in the sky, and the magical thing happening to your body that stopped you from dying stopped, and you just crashed into the mountain side and passed out onto the ground. Your head should’ve caved in! Fucking imbecile!”

Kinich stares at the state of his body; It was a disaster. His jacket was torn with all sorts of holes, his arms full of scars and dried blood and smeared dirt, his gloved hands having numerous rips and tears. All of his digits were present, but a huge scar trailed over the joints of his thumb. ‘So I lost a finger huh?’ he guessed to himself. He looks at his headband dangling around his neck, and feels his face with his hand. He felt a few scars and winces at a cut he had, realizing he had a gaping wound that was actively bleeding out.

Body intact, clothes and weapon secured, with his heart beating in his chest cavity.

But something was still missing. Something was out of place.

He feels his heart drop to the ground, mumbling: “Y/n.”

He hurriedly turns around and tries to run on his feet, a sharp pain kicking into his legs making him fall back onto the soil. He curls into a ball, suddenly feeling all his muscles tormenting his body at once. He groans in pain, feeling parts of his body ache and burn under his skin.

“Yes! Perish!” Ajaw shrieks, making kinich swat at him. He takes a cramped breath— almost like the capacity of his lungs had shrunk— before digging his hands into the sharp blades of grass, dragging his body through the earth.

Each pull of his body made him wish he wasn’t human, pain electrocuting each living cell in his body. Grunts slipped through his teeth, as he tried not to notice the torture he had been enduring for what has felt like forever. He despised the pain he could feel as he crawled not because it hurt him, but because it was proof he was alive and could use his senses. That would remind him that you might not be, only making the weight of his chest heavier.

Red from his wound dripped down his head and slipped onto his lip, making him spit it out bitterly.

The silvery of blood was inferior to the bitterness in his mouth if he felt your body without its heart beating against his own. Ajaw slowly follows him in the air a meter away, and is almost horrified. Ajaw that day, saw humanity in its most desperate state.

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“Let me go!” You yelled, trying to break free from the arms of the other scions of the canopy. They had tried convincing you to go to the village and get your injuries treated, but they mentioned kinich was missing. You heard glass shattering in your ears, almost reality to your eyes breaking just the same. You escaped their captive and tried to find kinich, but they had caught up to you easily.

“You don’t understand! You might die out of blood loss before you even find him!” Said one of the nurses, gripping your wrist tightly. “I have to try!” You snapped, shoving and kicking at the men trying to get a holding of your legs.

“And what if kinich is dead y/n!?” A man retorted, making you freeze in your spot. Words got stuck in your throat, as your eyes blurred for a second. “Kinich would never.. be..” you feel your tongue stiffen, your knees slowly sinking back onto the grass. The men among the helpers quietly argue behind you, scolding each other with ‘don’t say that!’ as your thoughts slowly dim your spirit.

‘Kinich? Dead?’ the thought of kinich dying seemed so far and impossible to you. It was always kinich who seemed to prevent harm from going your way, and knew how to deal with injuries or how to get out of risky situations. But not even the strongest warriors of Natan's ancient tales survived against the toughest attacks of the abyss. You feel like vomiting, the imagination of kinich mangled body suddenly tormenting your thoughts. ‘I still have to try’, you interrupted yourself, reminiscing the oath you took between the both of you to never abandon his side, dead or alive.

You quickly try to pounce off of them, but they're quicker into getting ahold of you again. You try your hardest to tear through their grasp, feeling your skin ache as they tighten their hand around you.

“Please! Just let me try!” you cry out, almost freeing yourself. They object in volumes, a series of ‘No!’s and ‘You need to rest!’ leaving their mouths. You almost feel helpless, but the group of five freeze all together, out of nowhere.

Their eyes are wide, dilated. Their mouths agape, skin draining of color.

You turn your eyes the same direction as theirs, and a sudden chill waves all throughout your body.

It’s kinich.

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Kinich locks eyes with you, his breath hitching. Almost terrified you’ll disappear in front of his eyes, he doesn’t waste another second and sprints towards you on his feet, ignoring the sharp pain afflicted to his ligaments. The tribespeople quickly free you from their clutches, stepping back as your aching bodies collided into an embrace.

Everyone else disappears from his world as he takes you into his dirtied arms. His body melt into yours, leaving no space for the opportunity of separation between both of you ever again. He feels you trembling underneath his touch making him hold you tighter. “I’m home.” He whispers into your ear, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders, like bulky armor sliding off of his battered frame— He had died a hundred times to tell you those words.

He can hear you; you're crying into his shoulder, salty tears reviving the scent of the dried blood on his clothes. All he can do is hold you, and take refuge back into your arms after leaving them for what seemed like an eternity. His heart is communicating with yours, beating back and forth at each other. “I was looking for you.” You mumbled against his skin, lips quivering. Your voice is hesitant, as you pull away and look into his tired dark-golden eyes.

“You never lost me in the first place.” He whispers, planting a delicate kiss to your cheek, placing your nimble hand on the left side of his chest to feel evidence of his return. His arms felt lighter, his bones seemed to unbreak, and his wounds were no longer burning. His eyes slowly stickled with tears, burying his face into your hair to let out his shy tears before you had the chance to notice.

His body grew vulnerable under your touch as your tears slowly undid the knot of grief residing in his chest. He almost feels himself shrink back to when he was a lonely child as your mere presence invited the fragile parts of him to be loved again.

His soul yearns for moment like this, where your love is presented raw; It was never about just the beauty. He thawed under your touch even when his clothes and body was drab and scarred. It was never about just the mora, his wallet was no longer weighing in his pocket and he knew that he didn't have to worry about it. It was never about just the distance, it didn't matter if he had to crawl from mondstadt, he still would've tried to come home even if he knew he would die along the way. and it was never about the festivity. he didn't need a festival to celebrate in a way of holding you like he is now. It was always about the bond between both of you and how much joy his heart is beating out just because he can count the beats of yours.

To him, his soul is bound with yours. No matter how far his heroship takes him, he’ll always return to you. For him, that was enough of a reason to come crawling home.

Kinich escaped heaven a hundred times to come home to you. For you, he would’ve gladly left a hundred times more.

🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅

You relish his embrace with tears sticking your lashes together when your mind slowly floats you away to a distant memory, one you feel like you should have forgotten by now.

It was so long ago.. 7 years ago or so?

It happened somewhere.. Here?

With someone.. Kinich.

You were younger teenagers with kinich that time. You had tripped down a short rocky fall while traversing grassy terrain with kinich. A wince squeaks through your gritted teeth, as he poured water onto the gash you scored on your stumbling. “I’ve always told you to stay sharp when we go out on a walk, but you never listen.” He grumbles, wiping off the dirt that trailed down your calf. “..And everytime you trip, it’s always me who has to clean you up, bandage you, and carry you home.” He treated your wound as you sat on a rock, awkwardly playing with your fingertips.

You can tell he was just worried about you, you always managed to injure yourself when he took his eyes off of you. He was already pressured on finding a way home, but you just had to go get your knee busted. “Sorry.” you mumble, heat rising to your skin out of embarrassment. “If you really were sorry, you would actually look before you land your feet.” he said bitterly, undoing his bandana, and wrapping it around your knee tightly. As he tightened the knot, he said: “You know I won't always be around to protect you right?”

“Yeah..” you shuffle your feet around. “But I-i swear I looked before I stepped okay! But the dip was.. was hiding under all the grass.” You attempt to defend yourself, looking at him with guilt written all over your face.

“Can you just promise me you’ll make heaven wait when I'm not around?” He sighs, before helping you get back on your feet, his arm snaking around your waist, as he scooped your shoulder over his shoulder. “Only if you promise too!” you scoff. He rolls his eyes, “As if I'll ever die before you. Seriously, one day I might just be running a commission and bump into you just bleeding to death from your knee.” you grimace under the thought. “Don’t say such horrible things!”

“Then promise me.” “..I promise.”

#▸ ✧ ˚ services #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact kinich #kinich x reader #kinich malipo #kinich x you #kinich fanfic #kinich imagines #genshin oneshots #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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nataliasquote · 3 days ago

Text

Double the trouble | Switch Up | n romanoff

Double the trouble AU

Summary: Yelena is back, the twins are older, and her scheming ways do nothing but backfire. a mother always knows…

Age: 8

Warnings: none

wc: 3.3k

note: hello! I’m back with another little oneshot for DTT. I’ve missed writing tbh and although this isn’t the best, I’m pleased to finally write. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting!

-⧗-

Leaving the twins with Yelena was either the best idea or the worst idea Natasha had ever had. But with Wanda away visiting her brother, Natasha didn’t really have much of a choice. Work didn’t allow her to take time off like this, so she turned to the next best thing.

The blonde was as grumpy as anything until she was faced with the two bundles of joy that were her nieces. She hated kids, but Isla and Y/n were an exception. She opened the door with a huge grin as the twins came barreling towards her, crouching barely over the threshold to collect them in a hug.

Natasha hovered back by the stairs with a soft smile tugging at her lips. Despite having a rocky patch, she truly loved Yelena with all her heart. And seeing her girls happy was all that mattered. She wished she could stay, but with new development plans happening at the studio, she had to oversee the final meeting.

“Are you staying all day?” Isla asked, peering round to look at Yelena’s truck parked in the driveway. “Where’s Fanny?”

“I’ll get her out in a minute, and yes I am, lucky duck.” The twins cheered at her response, their chatter tumbling over the top of each other as they bombarded their aunt with questions. Natasha quickly stepped in, taking them by the hand so Yelena could finally enter the house. After sending her girls over to the couch, Natasha pulled Yelena to one side, whispering in hushed voices.

“It shouldn’t take long, but in case I’m held back, there’s boxed mac and cheese in the cupboard and the girls made cookies last night so they’re in the green jar.”

“Mac and cheese, green jar, got it.”

“Please don’t give them too much sugar,” Natasha warned, knowing her sister’s tendencies, “and they have been arguing a lot, so good luck.” She didn’t really need to tell Yelena what to do, she’d babysat since they were really little, but it gave Natasha a piece of mind to know they were well looked after.

“Natasha, they’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me? Yelena asked with a grin.

“Absolutely not.”

Yelena rolled her eyes, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “So who’s the troublemaker this time?”

“Y/n has been in a mood for the past few days, so it’s currently her. Apparently Isla's existence annoys her.” As if on cue, a yell sounded from the living room and Natasha inwardly groaned. A moment of peace was never on the cards.

As she went to sort out whatever argument was occurring with her eight year olds, Yelena let Fanny out of the car and watched the Akita bound up the front steps, her tail wagging frantically. Any normal person would feel bad about the amount of hair she shed, but it only made Yelena laugh. She truly made every place her home.

The scene in the living room was absurd even for Yelena. Natasha was scolding a pouting Y/n whilst Isla cried in her arms, clutching something hidden behind her hair. Yelena hovered awkwardly, unsure how to approach, and Fanny did the same. It was almost like she could read the room.

Natasha, breathing a sigh of relief, gestured for Yelena to approach, to which she did. A sniffly Isla was pushed in her direction and the young girl lunged at her aunt, clinging to her waist with a sob.

“What happened?” Yelena mouthed, her eyebrows shooting up as Natasha held up what looked like a barbie doll. “Where’s the hair?”

“This one got scissor happy,” Natasha said exasperatedly, jabbing her thumb in Y/n’s direction.

“She stole my barbie!” Y/n protested, folding her arms across her chest in a huff.

“No!” Isla burst out,” that’s mine!”

“Well I don’t care, I was playing with it!”

“Get your own!”

Above their heads, Natasha gave Yelena a look. This is what she had been dealing with since Wanda left and although she hated leaving her kids, the bickering was starting to wear her down. It was Yelena’s turn to handle it for once. She just hoped the house would still be standing when she got back.

“Girls, please,” Natasha sighed, standing up with the barbie in her hand. “Mama has to go in a minute, and I’m not having you acting up for Yelena.” She used her stern mom voice and Y/n paled, hating being told off. “Y/n, can you apologise to Isla please.”

“No.”

Natasha may have a soft spot for her youngest but the glare that crossed her features made the little girl’s eyes well up and she hung her head in shame. “Y/n…” Natasha warned, knowing what came next if she didn’t start behaving.

“Sorry,” Y/n mumbled, suddenly very interested in the sleeve of her pink sweater.

“Good,” Natasha stated, brushing off the dog hair from her sleek black suit trousers. “I want you two on your best behaviour, and Yelena will tell me everything that happens. If I find out that you’ve been disrespectful and naughty, I will tell Mama. Okay?”

The girls mumbled in chorus, with Isla still clinging on to Yelena and Y/n standing by herself. It was just a phase, Natasha had to keep reminding herself that, but it certainly felt as though it was going to last forever. She wasn’t the bad mom, but Y/n’s behaviour had been so bad lately that not a day went by where she wasn’t being told off. It hurt her to see her daughter so upset, but Natasha stood strong. It was her own kindred spirit that she saw in Y/n, and now she understood why she was such a difficult child sometimes.

“We’re going to have fun, right guys?” Yelena asked with extravagant enthusiasm, although the responses she got were far from it. “You can go and do your boring adult stuff whilst the cool kids do… cool kid stuff.”

Natasha anxiously glanced at her kids, a wave of doubt washing over her. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can cancel-”

“Natasha, go, I’ll be fine. They’re angels with me and I’ve got Fanny with me if it all goes wrong.”

The dog in question gave a small woof and Natasha eyed her warily, far more a cat person than a dog person. She wasn’t totally convinced, but motherhood had made her anxious so she straightened out her jacket and nodded, psyching herself up.

“I’ll be back by 5, 6 at the latest.”

“Have a good day Mama,” Y/n said quietly, trying desperately to get back on her good side. Having Wanda mad at her was bad enough, but having Natasha was the worst thing she could think of. And when her Mama crouched down and opened her arms, Y/n took her chance to get to the hug first, muttering another ‘sorry’ to try and make amends.

“Be good, girls. I’ll be home soon.”

‘Aunty Lena, does Mama hate me?” Y/n asked as the door closed. The blonde frowned and turned to her niece, her large green eyes piercing into the Russian’s soul.

“Of course not, little bug. But you have to start being nice to Isla, okay?”

“I know,” Y/n replied. “She just really makes me mad.”

“That’s what sisters do. Your mama and I used to fight all the time.”

Y/n’s eyes lit up. “You did?”

“It’s totally normal, little bug. When your mama had blue hair, I used to tease her about it all the time.”

Isla’s head perked up at that. “Mama had blue hair?”

“Has she never shown you pictures?” Yelena asked in disbelief. Both girls shook their heads and Yelena grinned. “I’ll make some hot chocolate and I can show you. Your grandma put all our photos as kids in an album.”

The twins cheered loudly and ran to the kitchen, laughing with each other. It was such a stark contrast to earlier that Yelena had to do a double take at what she was witnessing.

“I’m glad you’re not this much work,” she muttered to Fanny, who barked happily at the noise. Kids really were hard work.

~~~

“Lena, kick it!” Isla yelled across the garden, dancing around the goal whilst her aunt really took her time. She was doing it purely to mess with her niece, and it was working perfectly. With another yell, Isla sprinted out of the goal in an attempt to tackle, but Yelena took her chance and sent the ball flying into the goal with a thud.

“That’s not fair!” She cried, running over to retrieve it.

“Another point to Aunt Lena!” Y/n announced from her place at the side before launching into another back walkover. She’d only recently learned the skill at dance and was more than happy to do acro tricks whilst they played. As long as she kept score as promised.

“No! That doesn’t count,” Isla protested, one foot propped up on the ball. “She cheated.”

“I didn’t cheat, you just have no patience,” Yelena said sassily, propping a hand up on her hip. “You’re not going to make a very good goal keeper.”

“I hate soccer anyway,” Isla grumbled, kicking the ball as hard as she could in Yelena’s direction. “It sucks.”

“It’s only because you’re bad at it,” Y/n piped up, now sitting on the porch steps after exhausting herself from cartwheels.

“You’re worse!” Typical comeback but Yelena had had enough. With a roll of her eyes, she marched towards the goal, giving Isla a bump with her elbow as she walked past.

“New game, I’ll be in goal and you have to work together to score. Deal?”

Isla shook her head. “I’m not playing with her, she can’t even kick a ball!”

“I can too!” Y/n protested, sprinting up to her sister. “I’m better than you and I don’t even have lessons.”

“That’s so not true. You-”

“Guys!” Yelena shouted, her Russian accent thickly coating her words. “Do you ever stop this fighting? It’s so annoying!”

The twins went silent, an uncommon phenomenon. Y/n muttered something under her breath but Yelena didn’t have it in her to care anymore. Every time she babysat it made her more and more impressed at how Natasha did it. A true saint.

“New rules. You have to pass it to each other before trying to score. If you don’t, the point goes to me. Okay?”

“Fine!”

Surprisingly, very few fights broke out over the course of the game. Isla did most of the scoring after Y/n well and truly botched her tries. But in her defence, her legs weren’t made for kicking the shit out of a soccer ball.They were made for cartwheels, which Isla soon got fed up with.

After far too long outside, Yelena rounded them up and herded them back inside after teeth started chattering and Y/n’s soaked trouser legs from falling over were turning her lips slightly blue.

After a quick bath she sat them both on Isla’s bed and dug through her closet for some comfier clothes. After a few minutes she sat back on her knees, her mind racing.

“Do you guys match anymore?”

“Ew,” Isla said, her nose scrunching. “Never. All Y/n wears is pink, and I hate pink.”

“You also hate dresses too.”

Yelena was quiet for a moment, the cogs in her head turning. She turned around with a sheepish smile, almost shaking with excitement.

“I have an idea, but you need to cooperate… okay?”

~~~

Natasha sighed as she stepped out of her car, her breath forming a small cloud in front of her. It was far too cold for October and she rushed up the front steps to get inside. The building work was looking amazing and she knew Y/n was itching to get back to the studio just as much as she was (there was only so much kitchen ballet they could do).

It was eerily quiet as the front door opened, only her heels sounding on the wooden floor as she approached the kitchen. She wasn’t met with a pile of bodies throwing themselves at her, which was probably more strange than the silence. Had she trusted Yelena too much and her sister had kidnapped her children and ran off to Russia? Honestly it wasn’t such a surprising theory.

Empty kitchen… empty living room… this was weird. But the sound of giggles couldn’t be hidden and Natasha kicked off her heels at the bottom of the stairs and took the stairs two at a time, her trousers straining around her thigh muscles. Isla’s laugh was the most distinguishable and she pushed the door open slowly, trying not to startle anyone.

The wholesome sight of the three of them sitting on the floor surrounded by stuffed animals was enough to melt Natasha’s heart and she smiled softly, leaning on the doorframe waiting for someone to notice her. And strangely it wasn’t Y/n but Isla who jumped up first, almost stumbling over Fanny to get to her Mama with a shriek.

Natasha caught her daughter in her arms and pressed kisses all over her face, warmth flooding her body. She would never feel complete when she was away from her girls.

Y/n quickly joined in, wanting the same cuddles. Natasha crouched down and stroked their cheeks before pausing slightly, squinting. Something wasn’t right and Yelena’s overly wide grin didn’t help her suspicions either. She stroked Isla’s hair with a chuckle and straightened up, her back aching from bending down so much.

“Did you girls have a good day?” She asked, watching as Y/n settled back on the floor beside Fanny. “You both look happier than when I left.”

“We played soccer and beat Aunt Lena!” Y/n piped up. “I scored all the goals.”

“No, I helped too!”

Natasha didn’t miss the way Yelena nudged her nieces or how their eyes went as wide as saucers. But the redhead just chuckled and took a seat on Isla’s bed, her legs slightly aching from standing all day.

Isla stood in front of her, clearly torn with where to go. Natasha knew she wanted to sit on her knee but watched as she settled beside Yelena again. It was impressive, Natasha gave her that much. Very dedicated to the cause.

“You did? Well done baby. Have you behaved today?”

“They’ve been angels, sestra, as usual. It’s only you they are bad for.” Yelena had a shit eating grin and it took everything in Natasha not to launch a pillow at her head. But she could not condone aggression around her violent children anyway before Y/n got any more ideas.

“Is that right?”

“Mama you had blue hair!”

If looks could kill, Yelena would be well and truly dead. If there was one thing Natasha hated, it was pictures of her younger self. She made far too many questionable decisions and went through one too many boxes of hair dye, so seeing pictures was a no no. Not even Wanda had seen many. And now her daughters had seen the worst ones which she was never going to live down.

“Yelena Belova… what did you do.”

The blonde just shrugged and jumped up, causing Fanny to do the same. The queen of avoiding things. “Who wants Aunt Yelena’s special mac and cheese?”

The twins both cheered and raced out of the room after their aunt, leaving Natasha slightly bewildered in the blue and white room. There were times where Natasha convinced herself that Yelena wasn’t all that bad, and then she pulled stunts like this and put herself back on top of Natasha’s hit list. But that was never going to change.

“What else did you show my kids, Yelena?”

No reply. Typical.

Natasha truly was outnumbered when her sister was around. But then she remembered what was really going on and a small laugh escaped Natasha’s mouth. Adorable, really.

Y/n and Isla helped as much as they could to make dinner, including standing on a chair to stir the boiling noodles and dumping the cheese packets in when instructed. Natasha was banished to setting the table after Isla gave her a lecture about her inability to cook, clearly something else she’d picked up from Yelena. But Natasha yielded, setting the cutlery down with a shake of her head. The longer it went on for, the more she tried not to laugh. And the more slip ups she noticed.

Like how Isla wouldn’t stand on the chair because she was scared of heights, even though yesterday she climbed the largest tree in the backyard. And how Y/n stood still when waiting for her turn, when she’d usually be twirling around with her apron. Natasha could only watch as Yelena heavily emphasised their names and the twins burst into giggles whenever they answered her. It was adorable to see and she couldn’t wait to tell Wanda.

They ate in silence, which was usually the case when mac and cheese was involved. And the girls did very well, Natasha gave them that, until she pulled an admittedly evil move.

“How about cookies?” Yelena asked once plates were cleared and the table was wiped down.

“It sounds good to me,” Natasha agreed, grabbing the tin and sitting back at the table. “One each, you too Yelena. And Y/n, you know the rules. You got in trouble today so you don’t get a cookie.”

She slid the tin to Isla who happily reached in until a protest sounded from the girl next to her.

“That’s not fair! That’s my cookie!”

Isla had already shoved her cookie in her mouth at this point, the crumbs sticking to her cheeks and the front of her shirt. She grinned happily, thankful she agreed to Yelena’s scheming plot.

“Mama! That’s mine!”

Natasha shook her head. “No Y/n, those aren’t the rules, you know that.”

Isla smacked her palm against the tabletop. “I’m not Y/n! She is!” She pointed at her sister harshly, who was licking the crumbs from her fingertips. “We switched!”

“Isla!” Y/n whined, “You weren’t supposed to spoil it!”

“I’m not losing my cookie, give it to me!”

“No,” Y/n said with a grin. “Mama said you can’t have one, so you can’t.”

“I hate you!”

Natasha watched the scene unfold, with Yelena looking more and more concerned. The blonde turned to her sister for help, but was met with only a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Do something!” Yelena hissed, but Natasha shook her head.

“Absolutely not,” Natasha said, leaning back in her chair. “It’s your mess, you fix it.”

“Tell her Aunt Lena!” Isla cried, tears threatening to spill. “Tell her I’m Isla! I’m not Y/n.”

Whilst Isla was nearing a breakdown, Y/n’s mean streak thickened. “These cookies really are good.”

“Mama please!”

Natasha rounded the table and placed a kiss on Isla’s forehead before passing her the biggest cookie from the tin. “Here baby, you’re okay,” she soothed, gently wiping her tears. “But your Aunt is an idiot. I did know it was you all along Isl’s, I’m sorry baby.” She picked her daughter up and set her on her lap, holding her close as she ate her cookie.

Yelena’s mouth fell open. “You knew?”

“From the moment ‘Isla’ ran to me first.” Yelena hit the table, muttering ‘dammit’ under her breath. “A mother always know, Yel. Always.”

#double the trouble au #natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff daughter #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #wandanat x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff #yelena belova

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benispunk · 2 days ago

Text

Lucky Number

logan howlett x reader

Logan wants to know why 12 is Y/N's lucky number. He might be falling in love all over again.

TW: language

Masterlist

\I/

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening. Not because she could finally relax, have some time for herself, enjoy the silence of her room without, most of the time, anyone in the mansion interrupting it… Well, maybe yes, it was that. But that’s not the point.

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening because she could finally spend time with Logan outside of the school’s routine, out of everyone's eye sights, just the two of them against the world.

And this evening wasn’t any different. She absolutely adored those moments with him as he looked and sounded so relaxed, and she felt as if she was falling more and more in love with him every single time.

She had bought a bottle wine and some appetizers that she had hidden in the kitchen all day, just for their special night, and Logan would do the same. Even though their relationship was official to everyone in the mansion, they always felt the need to sneak into each other’s rooms like teenagers in love.

One time, Logan was discreetly walking towards her door with two glasses in hand and his bottle of whiskey under his arm when he heard someone cough at the end of the corridor. He turned around, startled. Scott had been standing there, probably waiting to catch one of the two lovers and embarrass them. Logan stood there, saying nothing before flipping him off and entering Y/N’s room.

She sat curled up on her bed, a glass of red wine in hand, as she lazily picked at a plate of cheese and crackers between sips. Logan sat next to her, leaning against the headboard, holding his own glass of whiskey, his eyes glinting with amusement. He could stay there for days, listening to her talk, laugh, watching her smile. Anything that had to do with her, he needed to be there.

They had been playing a ridiculous card game for the last 20 minutes where you had to pick a number between one and twenty and then pick two cards, the closest to their number wins.

They were laughing again when Logan leaned forward with another challenge, his grin cocky. “Alright, one more time.”

Y/N smiled wide and quickly answered, “Twelve!”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her this time, his smirk softening into something more curious. “Again with twelve?” he asked, amused. “That’s the third time tonight you’ve picked twelve.”

Y/N blinked. “No, it’s not,” she said, a little too defensively, taking a bigger sip of wine. Maybe she should slow down with the drinking part.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, it is. You even won with that number.” He gave her a knowing look. “And now this. You pickin' twelve on purpose or somethin’? Are you cheating?”

She gasped at the accusation, « How dare you accuse me of such a crime? A girl can’t have a lucky number anymore. » She sipped some more wine dramatically, which made Logan laugh. How much she loved that sound.

Logan’s grin widened as he leaned in a bit closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Lucky number, huh? What makes twelve so special?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Y/N felt her breath catch slightly, the warmth from the wine making her feel just a bit too relaxed. She hadn’t even realized she'd been picking twelve that much. It just... came out. It was her lucky number indeed. And now, Logan was asking about it. Oh no.

She gave a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, you know… twelve’s just... a good number. Balanced. You know, 1 plus 2 equals 3, and… uh, three’s cool."

Logan tilted his head, staring at her with an amused expression that said he wasn’t buying a word of it. « Then why not pick three? »

She could feel the heat rising to her face even more. He was too perceptive. She tried to shrug again, but it came off awkward. « I—I don’t know! Twelve just feels… lucky, I guess."

But Logan wasn’t letting it go. Of coure, he wasn’t. He leaned in even closer, his voice a low tease. "You’re hiding something." His tone was playful, but his eyes held a tenderness that made her feel even more flustered. "Why twelve, darlin’?"

Y/N's heart raced as she realized there was no escaping the truth. She hadn’t even thought about it consciously until now, but of course, twelve was special. It was his birthday— October 12. And the more she thought about it, the more it embarrassed her. It felt too sweet, too sentimental to admit out loud, but Logan's gaze was gentle, and she knew he wouldn't let up until she told him.

She cleared her throat and bit her lip, looking anywhere but at him. "It's... It’s your birthday. » she finally mumbled, barely above a whisper, still trying to avoid his eyes. "October 12. That’s why it’s... my lucky number."

There was a pause— a silence that stretched just long enough for her to regret saying it, but when she glance up at Logan, she saw something different in his expression. His face softened, his eyes widening just a bit before something warm and quiet settled in them. For a second, he seemed speechless, which rarely happened with Logan.

« My birthday?" he asked, his voice softer than before, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Y/N nodded, feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed. « Yes. I’m sorry this is so embarrass— »

“Put your glass down,” he said firmly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“What?” she asked, confusion clouding her expression.

Without missing a beat, Logan took her glass from her hand and placed it gently on the nightstand beside his own. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to pause as they melted into each other, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. Every worry, every ounce of embarrassment faded away as Y/N felt herself sink deeper into the kiss, the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his lips mixing with the sweetness of the wine on hers.

Her lucky number was his birthday. How fucking wonderful. What did he even do to deserve that? To deserve her. His grip on her tightened slightly, pulling her closer as if he wanted to fuse their bodies together, to ensure that nothing could ever come between them. How lucky he was.

When they finally broke away, he held her gaze with a softness that made her heart race.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The moment hung between them. Y/N could see the sincerity in his gaze, the way he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Her heart ached with love. But he wasn’t done.

His hand cradled her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. “You keep doin’ this—showin’ me how much I mean to you… » He paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, « I’m falling for you all over again,” he confessed, his voice low and raw.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, a smile breaking through her earlier embarrassment. « See why twelve’s my lucky number? »

Logan laughed softly, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before he suddenly lunged forward, pinning her down onto the bed. Y/N squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he captured her lips in a quick kiss. The warmth of his body over hers ignited sparks of electricity that left her breathless.

As they broke apart, he held her gaze, his eyes gleaming with adoration. The warmth between them crackled with unspoken affection, and Y/N felt her heart swell. If he was her lucky charm, she was his too.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. Logan leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering, their lips brushing together softly. The moment was pure magic.

Y/N felt happiness enveloping her, knowing that luck wasn’t just about numbers; it was about sharing her life with him.

XXX

#fanfiction #fandom #ao3 #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #marvel cinematic universe #logan howlett #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #xmen fanfiction #xmen x reader #deadpool 3 #logan x reader #x men movies #xmen fanart #x men

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p0orbaby · 18 hours ago

Text

It’s Called Free Fall

summary: therapy makes you realise a lot of things

warnings: none

a/n: there’s not actually any alexia in this, but she is mentioned

word count: 2.7k

The therapist’s office feels like it’s been curated for someone far more refined than you—someone who actually takes their therapy seriously, rather than as an ironic lifestyle choice. The walls are a pale, flat grey that veers perilously close to lifeless, and there’s this overwhelming sense of emptiness, like everything here exists for display rather than use. The chairs, two narrow-backed leather things angled just slightly towards each other, appear less like furniture and more like sculptures. You imagine some recent graduate from a New York art school positioned them just so, meticulously arranging each one to make sure it induced the precise mix of discomfort and luxury.

The table between you and Dr. Vargas is another matter entirely—a sleek slab of polished mahogany, thick enough that you could lean your entire weight on it without even a squeak of protest. Its surface is bare except for a single leather-bound notebook, a fountain pen and a ceramic dish, all aligned to a degree that feels almost militaristic. There’s not a single loose thread in the rug, not a fingerprint on the glass of the one window facing out onto a garden view that’s suspiciously verdant for the middle of winter.

Even the fern, perched in the corner like it’s waiting for its close-up, seems too green, too lush. It’s ridiculous, but it’s all part of the aesthetic, this carefully curated minimalism, the kind of cultivated restraint that says, “We don’t need embellishments. We’re here for the truth.” You’re here, supposedly, for honesty and revelation. But to you, it all feels a bit too staged, like a hotel that boasts a “homely charm” but is actually cold and sterile beneath the surface. You suspect Dr. Vargas might even mist the plant herself in some sacred ritual of maintenance, a sort of last-minute grounding exercise to fill the silence between clients.

You settle back in the chair, draping one leg over the other, and make a mental note to mention it next time you’re in some magazine interview. “Austere,” you’d say, “but in a chic way. I once caught my therapist hand-polishing the leaves of a houseplant.” You let yourself savour the image for a moment, glancing at the fern, which seems to return your gaze with silent judgement.

Dr. Vargas has her pen poised in that infuriatingly neutral way, a half-smile that somehow manages to be both welcoming and utterly unreadable. She’s mastered this look; the expression that says, I’m here for you while also suggesting she’s already a step ahead, already written your entire profile out in her head, neatly categorised into sub-headings like “Avoidant Tendencies” and “Control Issues.”

You begin with a sigh, throwing a glance at the ceiling in mock contemplation. “I’ve been thinking about another place. A chalet, maybe. Something in the mountains this time.” You pause, letting the idea sit, feigning like it’s just occurred to you. “Somewhere remote, where people can’t just… get to me”

You’re fully aware that she sees right through it. This isn’t her first rodeo; you’re sure she’s dealt with hundreds like you before, masters of diversion who fill sessions with banalities rather than facing anything real. But Dr. Vargas, in all her maddening professionalism, gives nothing away. She just tilts her head, the soft scratch of her pen against her notebook barely there as she writes something down.

“A place to escape,” she offers back to you in that maddeningly placid tone.

“Yes. Escape,” you echo, knowing full well the word holds no weight here. Escape from what, exactly? You let your leg bounce a little, as if the rhythm might lend some gravity to your words. “And there’s this new project I’m in talks with—A24, actually. They want me to do something… serious. A proper rebrand. Gritty. Artistic.” You drawl out “artistic” with the faintest of smirks, like you’re amused at the thought of it all. A lifetime of playing these games, and you’re practically a pro by now.

Dr. Vargas’s face betrays not a flicker of interest or amusement. She simply nods, that little encouraging tilt of her head again, like she’s waiting for you to get to the real point, the heart of the matter. But you’re not giving in so easily.

“It could be big, you know,” you continue, lifting your chin a fraction. “And I’ve got Alexia, of course.” The name slips out, deliberately nonchalant, though you feel its weight instantly, like it’s left a mark on the air between you.

Dr. Vargas raises her eyebrows, ever so slightly. “Alexia,” she repeats, not quite a question, not quite a statement. Just… acknowledgment, and yet it still feels as if she’s plucked something out of you without you realising. You don’t like it, the way she turns your own words against you.

“Yeah,” you say, shrugging. “She’s… brilliant. On the field, off it. You know, she’s—” You trail off, allowing a smirk to play on your lips. “Not bad to look at, either”

She gives no reaction, doesn’t even break eye contact. You imagine her poker face would rival that of any seasoned card shark. But it’s her silence that presses at you, coaxing out more than you intend to reveal. It’s a trick she’s used before, and yet here you are, willingly falling into it.

“Honestly,” you continue, almost laughing as if sharing some private joke, “you should see her after a match. There’s this… intensity, this rawness. Shirt off, sweat-drenched, eyes still blazing from the game. It’s… invigorating.” You roll the word around like a fine wine, savouring it as you go. “It’s like the universe threw me a bone, just when I was getting bored”

Dr. Vargas finally moves, a slight shift of her head, her mouth curving up in a near-smile. “And yet, you’re here”

Her words drop between you like a carefully placed stone. You scoff, rolling your eyes, but there’s something in her expression—an almost imperceptible softness that somehow feels like an accusation. “Therapy’s a hobby,” you shrug, leaning back, as if the very idea of anything deeper is laughable. “I’m always in therapy, Doc. News flash”

“Yes,” she agrees smoothly, not missing a beat, “but you don’t usually bring her up”

“Come on,” you counter, with a smirk that’s designed to look careless, “I bring her up all the time”

“Not like this”

Her voice is calm, almost gentle, but her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place. You feel a spike of irritation, or maybe it’s something else. You cast a look towards the fern, now faintly silhouetted by the afternoon sun, its shadow long and narrow across the wall, an unasked-for third party in this strange little dance. The absurdity of the whole scene hits you, but before you can fully detach, she’s speaking again.

“You’re talking about her differently. More… openly.” There’s no edge to her tone, no overt judgment, yet it feels like she’s peeled back a layer, glimpsed a part of you you hadn’t meant to reveal.

In the moments that follow, you stub out your cigarette on the pristine ceramic dish Vargas keeps on the table, the one she’s claimed is “not for smoking” but never actually moved after that one session. You’ve taken it as tacit permission, though you know damn well it irritates her—just another way to test the boundaries in a room that prides itself on having none. That’s half the point of these sessions: see how far you can stretch them. How much she’ll let you say, or not say. And you’ve mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing, all while filling the space with empty words.

Dr. Vargas doesn’t speak, doesn’t press, which is almost worse than if she did. There’s just the persistent softness in her eyes, the quiet implication that she understands more than you’d prefer. You remember Alexia’s eyes looking at you like that once, right after you’d tried to make some grand point about the nature of relationships—one of those pseudo-philosophical tangents you like to go on. She’d just looked at you, with a kind of bemused patience that felt a little too genuine, a little too close to knowing you.

You roll your shoulders, shake off the memory. But it clings.

“Alright,” you say, letting the smoke spill out as you form the words. “Maybe I don’t do ‘love’ like everyone else. I’m not here for a candlelit dinner and a mortgage. I’m not,” you add with a quick laugh, “one of those people who turn into some sap over a nice couple’s holiday in Santorini”

Dr. Vargas gives a small nod, an acknowledgement rather than agreement, her expression neutral but open, giving you room to continue.

“But, yes. Fine.” You take another drag, a deliberate pause. “Maybe I… care about her. I care about her. She’s different, alright?”

“Different how?” she asks gently, with an infuriatingly patient tone.

You groan, shifting in your seat. “Come on, don’t make me quantify it. That’s your thing, not mine.” You know you’re stalling, using your usual deflections, but there’s an itch underneath it, a part of you that feels raw just acknowledging that Alexia is, in fact, ‘different.’

You can feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to take the bait you’ve laid out for yourself.

“Fine, you want specifics?” you sigh, feigning annoyance, though you know you’re the one who’s led the conversation here. “She… laughs at my worst jokes. Like, really laughs. Not in a polite way, but genuinely, like she thinks I’m the funniest person alive, even when I’m barely trying. It’s stupid, really, but it gets me”

“And how does that make you feel?” Vargas leans forward, like she’s zeroing in on something significant.

You chuckle, low and dismissive, waving the question off with your cigarette. “How do you think it makes me feel? It’s… fine. Nice. A bit strange, maybe. I’m not used to being seen like that.” You pause, the weight of that admission lingering in the air between you.

She doesn’t react, doesn’t push; she just lets the moment settle, knowing there’s more.

You sigh, smoke curling up around you, as your mind goes back to other little things—the way she has this weird ritual of picking all the green M&Ms out of the bag and tossing them to you, claiming they’re “bad luck.” How she insists on reading the morning news out loud, in that silly, exaggerated announcer voice, just to make you laugh while you pretend to read emails. Or how she makes you tea at exactly the right temperature, handing you the mug with a grin like she’s just given you a priceless gift. These are things that, on the surface, should be forgettable, the kind of mundane moments that fade. But they don’t, do they? Not with her.

Dr. Vargas’s voice interrupts your reverie, soft but insistent. “You’re smiling”

You realise she’s right; you’re smiling without even meaning to, and it’s a small, stupid smile, the kind that feels too open. You try to erase it, but it’s too late. The vulnerability’s already there, a quiet confession written across your face.

You roll your eyes, more at yourself than at her. “Alright, so what? So she’s… alright, she’s fun. She’s got that energy, you know, that lightness. It’s kind of… refreshing”

The words slip out unbidden, and you feel a pang of something resembling regret. Refreshing. A word that implies something else by omission—that most of your life, most people you’ve known, have been exhausting. The irony isn’t lost on you: someone so completely different from your own brand of detached sarcasm, from your carefully cultivated ennui, has managed to slip under the radar and wedge herself into your carefully controlled life.

Dr. Vargas watches, her silence pressing you forward.

“Look, I don’t think about it too much,” you say, trying to inject a casual note into your tone. “I don’t need to psychoanalyse every smile, every inside joke. I’m not here to have my relationship broken down into neat little psych terms”

“Maybe you should think about it,” Vargas says gently. “Maybe that’s why you’re here”

You scoff, but there’s a softness in the sound, a hint of resignation. Because she’s right, isn’t she? You came here because, as much as you don’t want to admit it, this thing with Alexia has started to matter, in a way that’s both terrifying and strangely compelling. You’ve always prided yourself on staying a step removed, on being a spectator in your own life, observing rather than fully engaging. But with her, you’re finding it harder to keep that distance.

“Fine,” you mutter, leaning back, letting your head rest against the chair, staring up at the ceiling as though the answers might be written there. “Maybe she’s… special”

The words feel strange in your mouth, too vulnerable, too open. You don’t say “special” often, especially not in this context. But there it is, a reluctant admission.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m in love with her,” you continue, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “She’s great—don’t get me wrong. She’s amazing in bed. I can’t remember the last time someone made me cum so much. And she’s got this thing about her, you know? Like this fire, this intensity. It’s like when she looks at me, she’s looking right through me. And yeah, I guess that’s… intoxicating. But that’s all it is. Right?”

Dr. Vargas nods, a small, subtle gesture. “Why does that scare you?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you watch the smoke dancing away from your cigarette, dissipating into the air, leaving nothing behind but a faint, lingering scent. You think about what it is you’re so afraid of—because there’s something there, something you can’t quite name, a sense that if you let this thing with Alexia continue, it might change you in ways you’re not ready for.

“Because I don’t do… attachment,” you say finally, the words coming out sharper than intended. “I’ve built a life that doesn’t depend on anyone else. And she’s… she’s a complication”

You can feel Vargas watching you, sensing the weight of what you’re not saying, the unspoken truth that this isn’t just about Alexia, that it’s about something deeper, a fear of vulnerability, of losing control. She doesn’t push, though; she just waits, letting the silence do the work for her.

After a long pause, you take a breath, letting your gaze drift to the fern by the window, its leaves glossy and perfect, so meticulously maintained it almost looks fake. You wonder if it’s ever felt the strain of trying to keep everything together, to present a flawless exterior while something more fragile lurks beneath the surface.

“You know,” you say, almost to yourself, “it’s funny. For the longest time, I thought love was just a distraction, a temporary fix for people who couldn’t handle being alone.” You take another drag from your cigarette, exhaling slowly. “But with her, it’s… it’s different. It’s like she makes everything brighter, sharper, like she’s tuned into some frequency I didn’t know existed”

Dr. Vargas doesn’t respond, just nods, letting you continue.

“And the worst part?” You chuckle, a self-deprecating sound. “The worst part is that she’s getting to me. She’s in my head, even when she’s not there. I find myself thinking about her in the middle of the day, wondering what she’s up to, if she’s thinking about me too”

There’s a fragility in the admission, a crack in the armour you’ve built around yourself. And it terrifies you, this sense of letting someone in, of letting them get close enough to matter.

You stub out your cigarette, watching the last curl of smoke dissipate into the air. It feels like a metaphor for something, though you’re not sure what.

Dr. Vargas gives you a small, knowing smile. “Maybe falling in love isn’t as bad as you think it will be,” she says gently.

You shrug, trying to play it off, but there’s a part of you that knows she’s right. Because for all your detachment, all your carefully cultivated distance, there’s something about Alexia that feels like home, like she’s a part of you you didn’t realise was missing.

“Maybe,” you say, the words soft, barely audible.

Love. The word lingers like an uninvited guest. You try to dismiss it, try to laugh it off, but it keeps creeping back in.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 days ago

Note

For my request, can you write a oneshot featuring Nanami and a woman reader in an Aladdin AU with chastity and edging please? In the story, Nanami has been hired to work as a palace guard for the sultana aka the reader. But he realizes too late that part of the job involves having his cock locked in a chastity cage and enduring various edging tests to determine his willpower. What do you think?

As You Wish, Princess

I'm so sorry this took so long! Here you go! I truly had fun writing this because subby Nanami isn't requested too often. Also, the premise was really fresh, which is something I've been struggling with. Ideas for JJK seem to be going like hotcakes, and while I can appreciate different takes on the same idea, I always want mine to be different, even if it's slightly.

Warnings: MDNI, coercion, male chastity, edging, ruined orgasm, power dynamics, dubcon

Applying for a position as a palace guard for the precious sultana was something Nanami had done for two reasons; one, the pay was amazing, and two, the position came with living quarters. As someone who had lived a hard life in the small streets of the marketplace as a laborer, there had been no qualms in his mind when a man from the palace had walked through the dusty roads calling out that the palace was hiring help.

When he’d arrived at the outer courtyard, looking dog-eared and dirty, the designated official had looked at him up and down, wrinkling his nose, but had refrained from saying anything on account of his impressively muscled and toned body, the long hours spent dragging bags of rice, wheat, and other essential grains making him akin to a sharp, chiseled, marble statue, something that should belong in a museum for others to wonder at. He towered over the puny official who had directed him to the head guard. They had an array of tests that he needed to pass and he had done so with ease; running a mile within a few minutes, climbing various obstacles to check his core strength, and how quickly he could escape when surrounded on all sides. The only test he had almost failed was swordsmanship, barely managing to take down his opponent, winning by a hair.

“The sultana has a final test of her own, after which it’ll be determined if you can keep the job. Wait here.” The head guard walks off into the cool, marbled entrance of the palace, and Nanami paces, awaiting his return. It takes a while before the guard comes strutting back, and then beckons him to follow. Nanami walks unassumingly behind him eyes scanning the opulence that is the palace. The marble seemed to shine, spotless and polished, with hints of gold tucked away artistically. Small murals adorned the walls and ceilings, rich tapestries hung everywhere.

The guard leads him to a private wing where there is a single door, quite plain looking and rather lackluster. “The sultana is waiting in there. And remember peasant, whatever she tells you to do, do it. No questions, lest you want to be beheaded for impudence. Now go on. Don’t keep her waiting.” He knocks on the door and leaves.

Nanami waits, wondering what kind of test this would be, and then startles when the door opens. You look at him with pretty eyes lined in kohl, dressed in a simple, flowy, full-armed, muslin dress that managed to flatter your figure despite not giving anything away. He bows and waits.

You giggle. “Well, aren’t you polite? Enter, Mr…?”

“Kento Nanami,” he supplies as he raises and walks into the room. The shades were drawn despite the heat, and the room was lit by dim oil lamps scattered across the room. He awaits his permission to sit and hears the click of the door as it shuts behind him. You move towards him, admiring the thickness of his biceps, the broadness of his shoulders, and the sinew and tightness of his thighs, barely contained by the threadbare flowy pants he was wearing.

“What brought you here?” you ask, circling him. Nanami is acutely aware of your gaze but he acts indifferent.

“I was told the sultana needed a bodyguard. It’s a job preferable over manual labor.”

“Oh,” you titter, then come to a halt in front of him. He’s tall, and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. “Is that all? You didn’t come to admire my beauty and grace? Or for the prospect of being the only one who would be accompanying me everywhere? While I’m eating, bathing, changing my garb…none of that came into your mind?”

Truthfully, it hadn’t. The promise of gold, a roof over his head, and food in his belly had been his only motivators. But now as he gauges you standing so sweetly in front of him with those doe-eyes and full lips, he realizes that it made sense you were asking him this. The sultana’s bodyguard needed to have self-control after all, given that parts of the job required being somewhat intimately in proximity to her, as far as the decency laws allowed.

“I admit sultana, no, it hadn’t. But if you are worried about me behaving indecently or taking advantage of you, there’s no reason to worry. I understand my limitations and would never compromise your purity.”

“You wouldn’t?” you cock your head to the side and tsk. “How boring.”

Taken aback, Kento stares at you, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t a reply he had been expecting. Your eyes are glittering now, full of mischief, and he wonders for a split second if you were toying with him. Surely not? The sultana had a reputation to maintain. You may have said it as a joke. He mustn’t take it seriously if he wanted this job.

“I was told that the final test before qualifying to be your bodyguard was set by you, sultana,” he ventures, hoping to change the topic. “If your grace so allows, may I ask what it is?”

You hum, then wander over to one of the divans and settle down on it, fiddling with your neatly styled hair, wondering. Kento truly was a treat for the womanly eyes. How such a delectable-looking specimen had managed to stay hidden for so long truly boggled your mind. However, he was a man, and men were fallible to their desires.

“Have you ever been with a woman, Kento?”

The muscled man looks rather startled at the question. Purity laws meant little to those who were not nobles. Of course he had been with a woman, many in fact, but he remains silent, trying to arrange his features into one of polite inquiry.

“I beg you pardon your grace?”

“You see, our laws dictate I cannot intimately know a man unless he is wed to me. I must remain chaste and pure for the man who is to be my future husband. And that means that whoever becomes my bodyguard must remember this at all times, even when I am in immodest situations. After all, the sultana’s bodyguard remains with her at all times, sometimes right outside the door as her husband makes love to her.” You watch him squirm uncomfortably under your gaze and he quickly bows to you.

“I beg your forgiveness sultana but I cannot discuss this matter with you. It is very unbefitting for a woman of your birth.”

You giggle at his response. “A woman of my birth? Oh, how considerate of you Kento. So am I to assume you were a rogue out in the lawless streets beyond the palace? Have you tumbled with many a maiden then? Jumping from bed to bed whenever it suited your fancy?”

The color rises in Kento’s cheeks and he continues to keep his head low. “Sultana, I understand if this raises concern for someone such as yourself but I assure you, my intentions are unsullied. If I was hired to be your bodyguard, I understand I cannot live as I previously did. I will reform of course, to your bidding. I would consecrate my life for you, your grace. No one, man or woman, is a higher priority than you.”

You consider his words but can’t resist the unholy thoughts forming in your head. His clothes were so worn that you could grab his shirt by accident and it would tear. At least, you would make it look like an accident. You wondered how those muscles would ripple if you ran your fingers across them…maybe even daring to dip your fingertip into the little depression of his belly button.

“So incredibly dedicated. I suppose I won’t find a bodyguard who passed all the other tests and also be this devoted would I?”

“I promise your grace you will not. I will be the only security you will ever need.”

“Then you won’t mind if I test your willpower? Put you to your limit and see how much you can take before you finally snap under the tension?” There’s a strange lilt to your tone as you speak, and Nanami can’t help but have his interest piqued.

“Not at all sultana.”

“Very well. Now remember, you must obey my requests without question. This is about me ensuring you have what it takes to be my personal guard, even if what I’m asking seems…unorthodox.” You sit up straighter on the divan. “You may begin by removing your clothes.”

Kento’s eyes widen in shock his mouth going dry. You were surely joking? “Sultana?” he asks hesitantly, hoping he’d misheard you.

You giggle. “Oh, I assure you that you heard correctly. Remove your clothes.”

The burly man looks down at himself uncertainly. Sensing his doubt, you repeat the command with a firm touch of authority. “Your sultana, the person whose life you will be responsible for, has already made her request twice. Do not make me say it again.”

Kento’s jaw clenches as he tries to think of a good way out of this. Was this a test? Was he supposed to try denying you again? It didn’t feel so, not with the way you sat with your arms crossed impatiently over your chest, the fabric of your muslin dress curving over your bosom. Kento quickly kills that thought, images of food, fresh clothes, and money in his pocket tugging at his indecisiveness. He swallows causing his Adam’s apple to bob, a gesture that does not go unnoticed, as you wait for your unwilling prey to make a move.

You can see the cogs in his brain turning, trying to think of a strategic way to another path forward but you know there are none. He was at your mercy if he wanted the job. Kento sighs, and then to your satisfaction, his hands start to bunch up the fabric of his thin tunic.

Kento is blushing as he pulls the cloth over his head, and he stands stripped to the waist, all hard muscles and veiny arms, looking like a delicious cut of steak. Your eyes wander over his skin, tanned from the sun, with a tatch of golden hair on his pecs that trailed down over his belly button and disappeared below his pants. He truly was a stunning specimen of masculinity. You can see him growing shy, grappling with the idea of whether or not he should continue.

“Everything looks good from here. Please continue.” You prompt him, unable to stop your lip from curling as he jerks his head in your direction. With shaky hands, he undoes the drawstring that holds up his loose cotton trousers, and with a soft swoosh, they fall to the floor, leaving his powerful thighs and toned calves bare. You’re pleased to see there’s a prominent bulge in his underwear.

“Come on now. That too.” You say cajolingly glancing at his underwear. He can barely keep his head up and he pulls them down with trembling hands and your mouth waters as his cock finally springs free, looking so pretty and needy as it rests against his belly.

“Hmm that's more like it.” You rise gracefully and saunter over to him and before he has a chance to react you grab his erection. His mouth falls open and his eyes widen in shock.

“You keep insisting that you’re dedicated. But I wonder how much restraint you have when you’re frustrated? Or when your patience is running thin. I believe it’s better to test it now.” You run your thumb over the head of cock, feeling the telltale signs of precum beginning to form in the slit.

Kento was in hell but he doesn’t dare move. He knows how precarious this situation was. If anyone were to come in here and see them like this…it’s his head they would be after. He watches your small fingers wrap around him, barely touching around the column of heated velvet. He grits his teeth, a strangled grunt leaving him. What was your goal?

As you start to pump him, you can feel the angry throb of his cock, feel the pulse and observe the way the little veins bulge as you tend to him. You knew you had him cornered. He couldn’t cry for help. If he did, you would act as innocent as a lamb. You preferred it this way. Subservient guards were the best. You continue to play with him, even going as far as squeezing his balls, giving them light tugs that has him moaning, his hips bucking in hopes of finding a release. His eyes close and you can tell he was anticipating a sweet climax…before you stop, removing all physical contact and letting his cock hang in the lurch.

His eyelids fly open wildly and he looks at you in what looks like disbelief. You laugh at his state and run a finger down his brawny chest. “What did you think was going to happen here?” You see the confusion in his eyes as he tries to bring himself back to reality. “Did you forget this was a test of willpower?”

His eyes nervously follow yours as you stalk your prey. “You should be thankful I stopped before you came all over yourself. It would be messy to clean that up and there are no wash chambers nearby. You would have to go all the way down to the servant’s quarters. And I’m sure everyone would be curious as to why you’re leaving your meeting with the sultana with various stains on your clothes.”

Your eyes gleam as Kento blushes at your description. “Now, we are going to repeat this over and over again until I’m satisfied you can control yourself.” You gesture to a pouf and indicate you want him to sit down. Kento backs down shakily, unsure what to say. Morally, he knows this is wrong. But the authority you’re taking over him, this confident ownership, was gnawing away at his strength. Because didn’t the sultana own all her subjects? He was at your mercy, obliged to indulge your whims. He was ashamed at his arousal, at the thoughts forming in his head about what he would like to do to you now. He could imagine tearing off that frumpy muslin gown, exposing your nipples to his mouth while his hand presses against the tatch of curly hair between your legs while he stroked you to ecstasy.

His thought are interrupted as you kneel before him. You pump his cock again, and make direct eye contact. Wordlessly, your mouth opens, and Kento’s heart shoots into his throat as he realizes what you’re about to do. With a slurp, you take his heated flesh into your mouth, the hot wetness of it enveloping him like a glove. His fingers dig into the soft cushion and he bucks with abandon. He knows you weren’t planning on letting him cum but maybe if he was quick enough he could before you took your sweet, wet, cavern away…

You’re far too observant and quickly pull away your mouth and Kento is left heaving, an animalistic look in his eyes. He had been so close, had felt that telling scrunch of his balls before you abandoned him again. There’s a numb sensation of pain in his tip and he lays back trying to gain control.

“Not bad. Most men would be trying to pounce on me by now I suppose.” You stand, wiping saliva from your mouth, feeling the lingering aftertaste of his salty beads of precum that had escaped into your throat. You smack your lips, then make up your mind.

“You have the job.”

Disbelievingly, Kento looks at you. His cock pulsed from unleashed need. You quirk an eyebrow. “Unless, you don’t want it? Perhaps you’re a lion pretending to be a meek little kitten? Are you waiting for my back to turn so that you can pounce on me? Catch me unaware?”

Kento scampers to his feet and bows, his cock comically flopping as he expresses his gratitude. “Not at all sultana. I’m…” He clears his throat, trying to catch his breath. “I’m very thankful you’ve chosen me.”

You grin wickedly. “Of course. And I find the best guards are the ones that are always on high alert. Therefore-” You gesture at his semi-hard cock, “I think it’s best if that remains unrelieved.”

Kento feels his mouth go dry. “Unrelieved?”

“Don’t tell me that you weren’t planning on jerking yourself off once I’d dismissed you?” Your eyes gleam as he shrinks at your words. “That simply won’t do. You’re my personal guard now. Therefore, you must always be on my schedule.”

You walk to a cabinet in the corner of the room and Kento watches you dubiously as you bring out a sort of cage made of metal. “Do you know what this is?” you ask, letting the contraption dangle from your finger. He shakes his head. He honestly had no idea.

You giggle and slip a metallic ring over his cock, pushing his balls through it and securing it behind them. The coldness makes him hard again. “Oh perfect. Makes this part easier.” You slide the strange, curved, cylindrical, device over his cock and he watches in fearful fascination as it lines up with the ring behind his balls. You smirk and slip a lock between the two, securing it in place, his cock contained inside.

“This is called a chastity cage. Think of it as a way to help your urges. From now on, your pleasure will be on my time.” Kento’s mind goes blank as he watches you pocket the key.

You chuckle. “What? This is what it means to devote your life to the sultana.” You pleasantly hand him his clothes. “Report to the main security quarters where they will give you your new uniform as well as information about your wage and living quarters. Report back here once this is all taken care of.”

You start to saunter out of the room, leaving Kento looking dumbstruck. At the door, you glance at him over your shoulder.

“Be prepared for regular testing from now on. Nothing like frequent training to keep your skills sharp hmm?”

reblog divider by @/ cafekitsune

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna @sweetskozume @theimmortalbuns @supernaturalbaesduh @marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x reader smut #nanami x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk nanami #ncs #ncs scribbles #inbox requests

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helluvapoison · 2 days ago

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Winners and Losers

Adam, Angel Dust and Alastor vs No Nut November

warnings: sexual content, semi-unserious, 18+ only regardless, implied m!reader for angel

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Adam

Are you kidding!? He doesn’t wanna do that, not even for— oh. No shit? For that? Yeah, ok, he’d try for that! Seeing Adam snap out of his lazy ways is.. rather impressive. (And all it took was a little incentive, can you believe it!? You need to keep that in your back pocket.) Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it the whole month.

“It’s your fault, really,” he’s irritatingly smug for someone fucked stupid, “what else am I supposed to do when you look like that?”

Lasted 14 days, better than you expected

Angel Dust

He said he was ‘down for anything once’ but you think he missed the point. He’s brushing against you every chance he gets, placing strategic kisses in spots that make your knees weak, making you drool with the way he— Wait a damn minute! This is Angel we’re talking about, he didn’t miss the point!

“Ya caught me!” He laughs lowly as he climbs into your lap, “I was just testin’ somethin’, baby. Thought I could make this… harder on ya, s’all.”

Lasted 6 agonizing hours. You should’ve seen that coming HA

Alastor

He doesn’t know what that is, and he doesn’t want to know.

“I don’t care for games that test my patience... I do love a good hunt, though. Say! I have a game that could put this one to shame.”

Lasted Failed

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam headcanons #adam imagines #angel dust headcanon #angel dust x reader #angel dust imagine #angel dust smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor headcanons #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #this is so unserious

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qrrieterisunnq · 19 hours ago

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Bonfire And S'Mores

FT. JACK HUGHES AND BONFIRE SEX MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes (please keep it safe guys!) — SUMMARY: When Quinn, Luke, and Jack, have one free weekend at the same time, they decide, they would like to spend some time with their parents and Jack’s girlfriend. So camping in Big Bend National Park in Texas sounded like the best idea. Especially for Jack, when he gets to spend some time with his girlfriend alone in a tent. — WORD COUNT: 3,06K — AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's been messy with me, but I hope you'll like this fic! I enjoyed writing this, so I hope you'll enjoy reading this.

“I’m so tired.” you yawn and open your tired eyes, while you sit in the car on the way to the airport. You, Jack, and Luke are heading to Big Bend National Park in Texas, together with Quinn and the Hughes’ parents.

“I know baby, but you can sleep in the plane. Okay?” Jack says quietly as he looks in the rearview mirror at his younger brother sleeping with his mouth wide open.

“I know,” you murmured, leaning your head back on the window. “I’m so excited to see your parents.” you look at Jack whose smile grows at your confession.

“You do?” he smirks at you bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

Giggling, you tuck your head between your shoulders, while your cheeks turn red. “Yeah, I do. You know I love your mom.”

“Yeah I know, pumpkin,” he sighs, caressing your hand. “Close your eyes. It’ll take a while before we get to the airport. The traffic is terrible.”

“Wake me up when we reach it, I want to be up before we arrive,” you say before you nuzzle in your jacket and scarf.

“I will, now sleep.” he chuckles and turns on the seat heating. You moan softly as the warmth hits your body, and lulls you to sleep in a few minutes.

The car ride is for a few minutes, with you sleeping silently next to Jack and Luke in the backseat when his phone starts to buzz in the phone holder.

Jack slows down a little bit and answers the call and turns the volume down a little bit so you won't wake up.

“Hi momma, keep it low, please. Luke and y/n are sleeping.” Jack says in a low tone looking over at you and Luke, hoping you won’t wake up. You were up until 2 am last night when both of you insisted on finishing watching some TV show.

“Okay, okay!” she giggles. “I’m just calling to ask when your flight is going to take off. So dad and I know when to wait for you at the airport.” dad’s laugh rang in the background of the call.

“Eh, the flight is taking off around 8:30, I guess. I’d have to ask y/n about it, but I don’t want to wake her up.” He sighs, trying to remember the time of the takeoff while he listens to the noises coming from the speaker in the car.

“No that’s completely okay, no need to wake her up. You can ask her when you’ll reach the airport and then text me. Or she can text me after all.” she says with a grin in her voice.

“Okay, I’ll tell her when she wakes up,” Jack smiles, turning left at the crossroads. “Is Quinn already there?” he asks when he hears his older brother's voice from the background noise.

“Yeah, dad and he arrived about an hour ago,” she murmurs, shushing the two in the background.

“Is that Jack?” Quinn's voice rings through the speaker which makes Luke move in the backseat.

“Yeah, but not that loud Quinn. The babies are sleeping.” you can hear your mom shushing him.

“Oh, sorry. Are you on your way?” he asks in a quieter voice, and Jack has to chuckle at him because he can vividly imagine his face.

“Yeah, we’re on our way to the airport,” he nods turning left on another crossroad to get on the highway.

“Okay, we won’t disturb you! Drive safe baby!” Ellen says before ending the call.

“That was mom?” Luke's groggy voice sounds through the car, startling Jack.

“Shit man!” he breathes put shaking his head. “Yeah, that was mom. Wanted to know when we’re taking off. And keep it low, please. Y/n’s sleeping.” he says when he sees Luke wants to say something.

“Oh okay. Sorry. Uh can we get something to eat before we arrive at the airport.” he groans quietly as he stretches his limbs in the small place that is in front of him.

“Sure, what do you want?” Jack looks at him through the mirror, raising his brows, while his right hand squeezes y/n’s tight when she moves in her seat and lets out a soft sound.

“Taco Bell. Please!”

“Baby, we’ll be at the airport in a minute,” Jack says in a shush tone, squeezing you tight to wake you up. You stir in your seat, groaning and stretching your legs while taking in a deep breath. “If you are hungry, there is a burrito under your feet if you’re hungry.”

“I fucking love you, Jack.” you peck his cheek quickly before you pull the bag with food on your lap.

“Oh really? Without me you wouldn’t have any food sis!” Luke gasps from the backseat, scaring the shit out of you.

“Jesus. Luke!” you whisper after you catch your breath.

“Sorry, but it’s true.” he just shrugs his shoulders as he continues in eating his food.

“Okay then, I fucking live you, Luke.” you giggle while your hand makes its way between your seat and the door to the back of the car, reaching for Luke’s leg or arm.

He interlocks his finger with yours and squeezes them. “And I love you sis.”

“Oh, stop that lovey-dovey things you two!” Jack looks in the rearview mirror and gasps. “You are cheating on me with him?” he turns to face you for a few seconds and all of you have to keep in your laughter as soon as he says it.

“Oh, stop those lovey-dovey things you two!” Jack looks in the rearview mirror and gasps. “You are cheating on me with him?” he turns to face you for a few seconds and all of you have to keep in your laughter as soon as he says it.

“Oh my gosh! We should stop it!” you laugh covering your mouth.

“Yeah we really should,” Luke adds with laughter letting go of your hand in the process. “That was really weird feeling.”

The rest of the way to the airport is in silence, with music in the background. Just as Jack parks his car, you finish eating your burrito.

“Okay! Our flight takes off in two hours, so we should hurry up,” you sing as you get out of the car and jog towards the trunk to pull out your suitcase.

Just as you are about to pull it out, Jacks hand stops you making a low ‘tsk tsk tsk’ sound.

“What?” you look at him with a bored expression. “I’m not allowed to get my own suitcase, or what?”

“No, you are not!” Jack says pushing you gently away so you hit Luke's chest and Jack can pull out your suitcase and place it in front of you. “Here you go, princess.”

With a roll of your eyes, you grab the handle of the suitcase and make your way inside the airport building.

“Oh, my baby!” Ellen shrieks as soon as she sees you. You let go of your suitcase, leaving it behind you as you run into her arm.

You both wrap your arms around each other as soon as you collide together. Ellen wraps her hands tightly around your figure. You melt into her embrace, snuggling your head in the crock of her neck.

“Mom.” you breathe out, moving even closer to her hug.

“MOM!” Jack and Luke say in unison with disbelief written on their faces.

“We are your babies!” Luke cries out, shaking his head.

“Oh, c’mon guys! You know she loves her more than you!” Jim laughs pulling Luke in a tight hug, while Jack is hugging his older brother.

“Yeah, we do!” Quinn laughs pulling away from Jack, who is looking at his mom and girlfriend having their moment as they whisper about something.

“Okay, mom! It’s my turn with y/n!” he gently pushes mom away from y/n pulling his future sister-in-law into a hug.

“Oh, c’mere Luke!” Ellen sings pulling his youngest son in a hug and kissing his cheeks.

“Okay, everyone greeted everyone?” Jim asks, his hands crossed on his chest, as he watches his family smile and laugh.

“Yeah, grumpy man!” Jack chuckles ducking his head from Jim’s hand.

You just shake your head at his childishness, and you make your way towards the airport entrance with Ellen.

“Okay! Y/n, Jack, you two are going with Quinn, Luke you are coming with us!” Ellen commands, turning around and smiling at her boys.

“Okay!” Luke salutes jogging to his parents’ car and waits for Jin to open it, so he can jump inside.

With a wave, you say goodbye to the three of them and make your way to Quinn’s car.

The ride home was quick for you. You barely said a word to Quinn, because you, yet again, fell asleep in the backseat and slept through the one-hour ride, only to be woken up by Jack who is carrying in arms.

“Sleep baby! It’s already nine pm. We’re leaving at six in the morning,” He says as he lays you down in his bed. “I’m going down for a while, mom made a diner, so if you want I can bring you some.” he cocks his head caressing your cheek.

“No that’s okay, I’ll come with you, I’m hungry,” you mumble and rub your eyes as you sit up. Jack chuckles helping you sit up and then stand up. “Did I sleep the whole ride home?” you ask looking at him with something written on your face, that Jack can’t identify.

“Yeah, you fell asleep the minute you sat in the car.” he laughs, grabs your hand and together you make your way downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hi there sleeping beauty.” Quinn grins at you from behind the table.

“Leave her alone Quinn.” Ellen swats her hand across Quinn's arm while urging us to sit down.

“So we’re leaving at six in the morning, I already made some food for us, while we’ll wait there. At the airport, there’ll already be a car waiting for us, with everything in it.” she smiles, handing you a bowl with a salad.

“Oh, I cannot wait!” Luke jumps on his hair, almost dropping the plate he is holding in the air as he waits for you to scoop up a portion of food.

The rest of the dinner is followed by laughter, stupid jokes falling for your mouths, and a few kisses that Jack steals from you.

“Shit! Luke! Watch where you are going!” Quinn yells when the tent they are building almost falls.

“Sorry! It’s not my fault that the stick was so long!” he throws his hands in the air in defeat.

“Well, you have eyes so you should have looked around before going somewhere!” Quinn yells again, shaking his head at his youngest brother's stupidity.

“I said I’m sorry!” he sighs with a shake of his head and starts to help Quinn build the tent again.

You and Jack just laugh quietly as you watch the two build it over again. “I’m glad I’m not building it with them.” he giggles and pulls you closer to him.

“What is going on?” Ellen asks with confusion written on her face. She sits next to you on the wooden bench with Jim following her motions.

“Agh,” Jack sighs with a chuckle looking down at you. “Long story short, Luke is stupid.”

“What did he do?” Jim looks over at his middle son with curiosity.

“He almost tore down the tent with the stick he was trying to put inside the holes,” you explain, leaning more into Jack's warm body.

“Oh my…” he pinches the bridge of his nose shaking his head. “I have no idea where we found him El, but I’m pretty sure he can’t be our son.” As soon as he finishes his words he earns a smack from his wife as she shakes his head at him.

“Need some help, you two?!” you yell at them when you see how they’re building their tent.

“No, we got it! But thanks!” Quinn yells back sending you a shiny smile.

“Well, then, we can set a fire in the meantime,” Jack asks, looking around for some wood.

“Oh, about this! I talked with the firefighters, and they told me we could set a fire, but it must be covered at the sides, and we needed to water the area around it so the fire would not expand.” Jim says stopping his son from going somewhere.

“Okay. We can look at what we have packed for the bonfire and then we can build it.” Ellen suggests, cocking her head to the side.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jim smiles and kisses the side of his wife’s head.

“Finally.” Quinn laughs, fist-bumping his brother.

“Finally.” Luke sighs, breathing heavily.

“Dumb and Dumber.” Jack shakes his head and tightens his arms around you.

“Don’t be mean. They’re your brothers.” you jab him in the ribs lightly, pouting your lips.

“I know baby. Sorry.” he sighs. He knows that you hate when he’s mean to his brothers. He knows you blame yourself for your siblings not talking to you. And he’s trying his best to let you know that his siblings are yours too.

“Jack?” you whisper in his ear when he listens to Quinn talk about something.

“Yes, baby? " Immediately, he turns his attention on you, his eyes searching yours and his hands tightening their grip on your waist.

“Come to the tent in seven minutes,” you whisper, your lips touching the side of his ear, sending shivers down his neck. You stand up immediately, earning attention from everyone. I’m going to sleep. My head is hurting,” you explain, wrapping your hands around yourself. Night.”

“Night, y/n!” Quinn and Luke say in unison, chuckling immediately.

“Night, sweetheart.” Ellen smiles at you and Jim nods his head with a small smile lingering on his lips. You turn around and walk to the tent, not forgetting to wink at your boyfriend.

Jack shifts in his seat, adjusting his pants. “Fuck.” he mumbles under his nose and looks at his phone counting down the seconds before he can stand up and leave.

As soon as the seven-minute limit runs out, Jack excuses himself, saying he doesn’t want to leave y/n alone when she’s feeling sick.

He tries not to look desperate, but he hears Quinn’s chuckle already knowing what is following.

“Don’t be too loud. There is a kid!” He teases, his middle brother earning a middle finger from him.

Jack opens their tent and slips inside, smirking immediately when he sees you sitting in those cute pajamas under the duvet.

“Hey, my love!” he whispers and crawls to you stealing a kiss from you.

“Hi Jacky,” you mumble in the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.

“What was that for?” he asks as soon as he pulls away from the deep kiss.

“I just wanted to show you how much I love you,” you shrug, grinning at him because you know he knows it’s not true.

“Oh you do?” he teases you, slowly lying at you, pressing his already hard cock into your belly. “Well then you should show me how much you love me and get naked.” he cocks his head to the side, slapping your ass harshly.

In a few seconds, you are lying under him with nothing on just like Jack. “Fuck I missed you, baby. It has been too long without you,” he murmurs in your neck as he traces his way down to your breasts with kisses.

“It was only two weeks, Jacky.” You moan when his lips close around your left nipple sucking hard on it while his fingers pinch your right one making you let out a little louder moan.

He releases your nipple with a pop, looking at you with a devilish smirk. He reaches for your panties, which are right next to you, and stuffs them in your mouth, earning a gasp from you.

“I need you to be quiet. I know you like to be vocal, but my brothers and family are here, and I don’t want them to hear your beautiful noises.”

he smirks, kissing your forehead and nose before looking down at you again. “Now will you be my good girl and be quiet?”

Eagerly you nod your head, waiting for Jack to do what he has in plan. He reaches between the two of you, palming his cock and sliding it between your lower lips to feel how wet you already are.

You moan at the feeling of his cock on your pussy, and instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck to keep him in place.

Slowly he pushes his dick inside you, inch by inch until he’s balls deep inside you. “Just like that y/n, keep squeezing around me.” He murmurs in your ear slowly moving his hips while his lips suck on your neck, drawing more moans from you.

You can feel a strip of saliva running down your chin as you moan loudly around the panties in your mouth. “Jack,” you try to say, but it’s harder than you thought with the panties.

“I know my love,” he whispers thrusting into you more intensively and roughly. His hand moves to your leg so he can bring it on his shoulder, to change the angle and thrusts deeper into you.

You moan and dig your nails into his back as you squeeze around his cock, your juices coating his cock and balls.

You pull the panties away from your mouth, gripping Jack’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “I’m going to cum, Jack!” you whimper in the kiss, tightening your legs around his waist and grinding on him.

“Then come, baby! Coat my cock in your juices,” he says in a rough voice his hand moving down to your clit circling it with the right pressure.

A few hard thrusts later you are falling apart in his arms, your legs shaking around his waist. Jack thrusts into you a few more times before his orgasm hits him and he collapses on top of you.

“Wow, that, that was something.” he breathes out placing soft kisses on your neck and slowly reaching your lips.

“I love you, Jack. Just want you to know,” you say nervously, caressing his cheek when he pulls away from you.

“I know, and I love you,” he says softly, brushing the hair away from your face. “Now get some rest baby,” he says moving you around, so you rest on his chest.

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jh86 #jack hughes smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nj devils #quinn hughes #hughes brothers #qrrieterisunnq's autumn masterlist #luke hughes

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crguang · 1 day ago

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violinist kafka x her pianist accompaniment reader, courtesy of my 🎹 anon and @shalomniscient’s beautiful brain <3 we’ve been going crazy over this AU since i received the ask today.

R and kafka are childhood best friends who have been playing together since their respective instructors discovered their potential and made them work together on a piece, very much young prodigies in the making who do nothing but hone their skills with the dream of becoming the best in their field. one day, when they’re around 16 years old, R moves away. this bus ride is the last memory kafka holds of them together and she remembers it viscerally whenever she brings an especially complex composition to life, which eventually becomes the source of her recognition and success. this is a goodbye she only understands once she’s lost them.

607. i miss you.

You held her hand that early evening on the way to the bus stop on the corner street four minutes from the music academy; your pinky finger loosely looped with hers and in the chill of February, she could feel the rough material of your knitted glove against her own, the one gifted to you by an aunt she doesn’t remember the name of. Fingertips linked like an implicit promise, she spared you a questioning glance at the unusual gesture and you avoided her gaze, making a show of scrolling through a playlist on your MP3 player with your free hand. She thinks of it as holding hands now, because despite your palms not touching at the time, your bodies were connected through that fragile bridge between your fingers and your hands swayed in the air with your unhurried steps. Each of her exhales were made visible by the cold while you kept yours within the confines of the scarf around your neck, you always despised the drop in temperature. Even with the bottom half of your head hidden by the soft fabric, she could read the reservation on the lines of your face. You were keeping something in and it was obvious to her who had known you since that Wednesday you sat in her every-day rehearsal room, patiently waiting with her violin instructor and a faraway look in your eyes. Back then, it had been eight years. Perhaps that isn’t accurate, she has known you a total of eight years up to the present day. That is the only constant between you, whoever you are today she does not know.

Kafka chuckles lowly to herself, a self-deprecating sound. After all this time, she still needs this moment of reminiscence before she dares put the bow to her violin’s sacred strings. If this is what puts her in the state of mind necessary to perform this composition flawlessly, so be it. She inhales long and slow, then exhales quietly through her mouth. She raises her right hand and in one controlled motion, slides the bow over the first note of her instrument.

The 607 bus was half empty when you stepped on it first. You paid the bus fare and she followed you to the back after doing the same. You took the seat next to a window tainted with water streaks and silently took the violin case from her hands to lay part of it on your thigh, the other half rested on her leg the entire ride home, its small weight shared like the rest of your burdens. She took the earphone you handed her and pressed a little closer to you to see what you were showing her on your MP3. The bus started moving a second later.

“I don’t want something too loud this time,” you said, scrolling down the music app where you’d created playlists for each other a year prior.

“Lame.”

“You chose the playlist yesterday, you don’t get to complain. This one is nice.”

You pressed play on a slow song and lifted your head to meet her eyes expectantly as the first melodies reached her ear. She conceded with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. You smiled, a soft edge to it, and didn’t tear your gaze from hers for a moment that Kafka now wonders if it lasted seconds or minutes. You looked into her eyes, searching for something she didn’t have the guts to confess, and she looked back at you with the words on her lips. They were often there, sitting just past her lips like they’d fly out of her mouth the instant she opened it, but she found that they were anchored to her tongue and had no plan to leave the warmth of their comfort zone. Her eyebrows twitched in question for the second time that hour, an unsure smile on her face in response to your stare.

“What?”

Her attempt to glimpse into your mind broke the suspended moment. You shook your head somewhat ruefully.

“Nothing.”

You lowered your MP3 and followed the movement with your eyes, avoiding hers once again. She could see something brewing inside of you since that morning, guilt you couldn’t admit to her, maybe, but she didn’t push thinking you would speak up eventually. Instead, she playfully nudged your side with an elbow.

“Practice used up your last brain cells or what?”

“Ha, ha. Like you weren’t the one struggling to keep up with the tempo.”

“Try again, maybe the next lie will be more convincing.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot Kafka The Prodigy could never make a mistake, ever. I’m only the accompaniment, what would I know?”

“That’s more like it.”

You lifted your eyes to the sky, but the smile that replaced the weird one you were previously giving her was much more brilliant. You glanced at her, then turned your head to the window. An older couple were quietly chatting to themselves a few rows to the left in front of you, their heads leaning against each other, and she spent a minute looking at them while the next song played in your earphones. With the music, it was impossible to catch what one was saying to the other, but that didn’t matter. Their bodies were pressed together like yours with hers, as if huddling for warmth, and the woman was talking with her hands the way you would when you were passionate about a new album you just discovered. She didn’t notice it then, that she was looking for you in others even as you sat next to her. Her world was so small; you and music, music and you, and those hours where the two were one and the same.

To this day, you are the music she plays. Your harmonious smiles and dulcet voice, they are all within the melodies she borrows from other composers and in a sense, you are always on stage next to her during a performance. In the practice room, Kafka furrows her brows. She feels it mounting in her, that feeling that makes her great, akin to a pulsing heart ascending to her throat until it lodges itself between her vocal chords and she lets the violin speak for her. The climax approaches steadily, she knows that part like the back of her hand.

She lost interest in the talking couple. You were still looking outside the window at the swaying tree branches and passing cars, and she wondered what was so interesting out there that you couldn’t look at her. She watched your eyelids droop, though you stayed awake and kept staring at the world beyond the two of you. The song in her ear had a bass that followed her heartbeat. It wasn't sad, but you were. Streetlights had come on to balance out the rapidly vanishing sunlight and each one illuminated your features in fleeting rays of yellow, your eyes were hazy and your lips no longer smiling for her, and strands of hair brushed your temple whenever you adjusted your head on the glass. She followed the smooth lines of your brows down to the bridge of your nose, then to the curve of your upper lip. On her lap, her fingers twitched and curled into a loose fist. Her gaze went unnoticed, you were entirely enticed by the world beyond her reach and she was enthralled by the sadness on your face that added years to your current age of merely sixteen. You knew something she didn’t, she was sure of it, but no sound came out of her mouth after she parted her lips to ask. You swallowed, and her eyes flitted to the lump in your throat before settling back on your fluttering lashes. She suddenly perceived a distance between you that made her deeply uncomfortable and that feeling sat on her chest until your bus stop approached and you finally straightened up to look back at her. You smiled weakly, and Kafka spent years regretting not saying anything as you hesitantly patted her closed fist and placed the violin case on her thighs so you could prepare to stand, ringing the bell to announce your stop. She searched your eyes and found nothing but apologies.

“Playing with you makes me so happy,” you said out of the blue, holding up her stare intently. “You’re really great.”

“I know,” she replied lamely, half-jokingly, “but I like hearing you say it.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound weak and breathless. It made her smile nonetheless.

“You’re gonna be so great, and I’m gonna be great, and we’re gonna be great together. We’ll perform on stage just like we talked about, and in ten years, we’ll be the best in our field.”

“It’ll take me less than ten years. But I’ll wait for you to catch up.”

You gazed at her for the half minute it took for the bus to pull over, searing her playful cockiness into your mind, then you stood and she moved her legs out of the way for you to reach the aisle.

“Bye, Kafka.”

“See you M…” Her goodbye was interrupted by the soft press of your lips on her cheek, a quick gesture before you rapidly turned away from her and walked out of the bus. “...Monday,” she muttered in confusion.

She turned to the window as the bus started up again and you waved at her with enthusiasm that felt out of place. Still, she made a disgusted face that made you smile wider, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue like she was going to puke from the uncharacteristic display of affection. Your figure got smaller and smaller, and she lifted a hand to her cheek to wipe the skin where your lips had been.

The piece is coming to an end. The hardest part has passed and all that is left is a clean finish that Kafka executes perfectly. The final note rings out in the empty room. Her head hangs low for a moment, eyes shut and exhaling slowly through her mouth. She is great and she’ll perform on stage in two weeks. She is not the best, not yet, she’s missing the soothing notes of piano keys to accompany her violin. Kafka chuckles to herself, the irony of this thought is laughable. She smiles, raises her head, and starts the piece from the top.

#kafka x reader #honkai star rail

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