#This took a lot longer than I thought but it turned out GREAT!

[writeriguess]

Hey hun! Welcome back 😘

So, i have a kind of slow burn idea for a Bakugo x fem!reader fic. They both like each other and when she tries to ask him out or talk to him about it, he's kind of an ass 😅

He thinks she'll be in the way or a distraction to his goal, so he pushes her away. He can't get her out of his head though and their friends tell him he's being an idiot. Eventually, he cracks and tells her (in his very 'katsuki' way) that he does want to be with her.

Angst ending with lots of fluff, confessions, and a kiss please!

author's note: Thank you so much! <3 I just wanted to say that your idea was incredible, and I had such a great time writing it. It turned out to be much longer than I expected, but it was definitely worth it!

Heart of Dynamite

It started with stolen glances. You weren’t sure when you first noticed, but something about the way Bakugo Katsuki acted around you was different. He wasn’t nice, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something else buried beneath the rough edges and sharp remarks. A fleeting glance when he thought you weren’t looking. The way he always seemed to hover nearby during group exercises, subtly ensuring you didn’t get caught off guard.

You weren’t blind. You saw the way his crimson eyes would flick to you during lunch, only for him to look away just as quickly if you caught him. You noticed how his explosions during sparring would seem almost… controlled when directed your way—less destructive, more calculated. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make you wonder. Enough to make you hope.

The problem was, Bakugo being Bakugo, he’d never admit to something as human as feelings. If he did like you, he was keeping it buried under a mountain of anger, pride, and whatever complicated emotions made up Katsuki Bakugo.

But still, the moments added up. And with each passing day, your crush grew stronger. You hated the way your heart fluttered when he called you by name instead of his usual nicknames for everyone else. You hated how you’d secretly look forward to his biting remarks because, in some twisted way, it was his version of paying attention to you.

And most of all, you hated how much courage it took to even consider confessing to him.

After weeks of agonizing over it, you finally decided you couldn’t live with the "what if." No matter what, you needed to know.

The opportunity came on a rare quiet evening at the dorms. Everyone else had gone out for karaoke, leaving you and Bakugo alone. He was sprawled on the couch in the common area, his arms crossed, staring at some mindless action movie playing on the TV.

You hovered at the doorway, your heart racing. You almost turned back, but then his gruff voice interrupted your thoughts.

"What the hell are you standing there for? You look like a damn idiot."

You flinched, but quickly steeled yourself. "I just… needed to ask you something."

His gaze flicked to you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. "Then spit it out already. Don’t waste my time."

Your hands were clammy as you stepped closer, each word feeling heavier than the last. "Do you… want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, Bakugo just stared at you. His usual scowl didn’t shift, but you could see the flicker of surprise in his eyes—so quick you almost missed it. His jaw tensed, his hands clenching into fists on his lap.

Then, he scoffed. Loudly.

"You serious?" he said, leaning back against the couch like your question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. "Why the hell would I want to go out with you?"

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your throat tightened, and your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

"I mean, come on," he continued, his tone sharp and cutting. "What makes you think I’d waste my time on something dumb like that?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but not from embarrassment—from the sting of his rejection. You struggled to keep your voice steady. "I just thought… maybe—"

"Well, you thought wrong," he cut you off, his voice cold and unrelenting. "So stop acting like some lovesick idiot and get over it."

The silence that followed was unbearable. You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you, like you were standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to step back.

"Got it," you said finally, your voice small and strained. You turned on your heel before he could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed on the couch, staring at the TV that he wasn’t really watching. His nails dug into his palms, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

"Idiot," he muttered under his breath, though he wasn’t sure if he was talking about you—or himself.

Hours passed, but Bakugo didn’t leave the couch. He replayed the scene over and over in his mind: the look on your face, the way your voice had cracked when he tore you down.

He hated himself for it. Hated the way he’d lashed out, even though he knew it was because he was terrified. Of what? He didn’t know. Maybe of admitting to himself that he cared. Maybe of the fact that you could make him feel so out of control with just one stupid question.

But now it was too late. He’d pushed you away.

You, on the other hand, locked yourself in your room, curled up on your bed, and let the tears flow. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid, so naive. Of course Bakugo didn’t like you. Of course he didn’t care. You’d just been projecting your feelings onto him, imagining things that weren’t really there.

Still, the hurt lingered. You tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, that you’d move on, but the ache in your chest said otherwise.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting downstairs, fists clenched, consumed by his own turmoil. Because for all his bluster, he’d never wanted to hurt you. He just didn’t know how to deal with the truth: that he did like you, more than he was willing to admit.

Bakugo tried to convince himself that what he’d said to you was necessary. He had goals—real, tangible goals—and nothing, no one, was going to distract him. Becoming the Number One Hero wasn’t just a dream for him; it was a mission, an obligation, a destiny he was determined to carve out with his own blood, sweat, and tears. He didn’t need complications. He didn’t need feelings. He didn’t need you. That’s what he told himself over and over as he sat alone in his dorm room, glaring at the wall like it had personally offended him. His fists were clenched tightly in his lap, the tendons in his hands straining from the pressure.

But no matter how hard he tried to justify it, he couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind. The way your expression had crumbled when he snapped at you, the hurt in your eyes as you turned and walked away—it all replayed in his head on an endless, agonizing loop. He could still hear your voice trembling when you’d asked him out, soft and vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from you. You weren’t the kind of person who let your guard down easily, and he’d taken that rare moment of courage and crushed it underfoot.

“Tch,” he growled under his breath, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands in frustration. “Stupid.”

He thought that pushing you away would make things easier, but it didn’t. If anything, it made everything worse. You were everywhere. Every time he walked into a room, his eyes automatically searched for you, even when he told himself they wouldn’t. When you laughed with your friends, the sound sent an irritating warmth through his chest, only to be followed by a sharp pang of regret when he remembered the look on your face that night. During training, he found himself tracking your every move without even meaning to, his instincts on high alert every time you dodged an attack or threw a punch. He hated it. Hated how you’d wormed your way into his head and refused to leave. Hated how much he wanted to be near you, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with you.

It didn’t help that everyone else seemed to notice his turmoil. His friends had started giving him strange looks during meals, their eyes darting between him and you as if they were waiting for something to happen. Kirishima, in particular, had been annoyingly persistent, watching him with that infuriatingly knowing expression he always wore when he thought Bakugo was being an idiot. Bakugo did his best to ignore it, but the tension was impossible to escape.

One evening, when the others were hanging out in the common area, Kirishima finally confronted him. Bakugo had been sitting on the couch, staring at his phone without really looking at it, when Kirishima plopped down beside him with a heavy sigh. Mina and Kaminari weren’t far behind, hovering nearby like vultures waiting for a meal.

“Alright, spill it,” Kirishima said, his voice casual but firm. Bakugo barely spared him a glance.

“Spill what?” he snapped, his tone as sharp as ever.

“Don’t play dumb,” Mina chimed in, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at him. “You’ve been acting weird for days, and we all know why.”

“I’m not in the mood for this crap,” Bakugo growled, standing up to leave, but Kirishima quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Bakugo glared at him, his crimson eyes blazing. “Move.”

“Not until you admit what’s going on,” Kirishima said, his voice steady despite the obvious tension in the air. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”

Bakugo froze, his scowl deepening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kirishima said, his tone unusually serious. “Come on, man. It’s so obvious you like her. Everyone can see it.”

“I don’t—”

“Save it,” Mina interrupted, stepping closer with a look that could cut through steel. “We’ve seen the way you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the way you lose your mind whenever she partners up with someone else during training. You care about her, and instead of doing something about it, you��re being a total dumbass.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “I don’t have time for this crap,” he muttered, shoving past Kirishima and heading for the door. But before he could leave, Kirishima’s voice rang out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“You think pushing her away will make you stronger,” Kirishima said, his voice softer now, almost sad. “But all you’re doing is proving how scared you are.”

Bakugo’s shoulders tensed, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out,” Kirishima continued, his tone unwavering. “But running from it won’t make it go away.”

For a moment, Bakugo didn’t move. The room was silent, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he yanked the door open and walked out, slamming it shut behind him without another word.

That night, Bakugo lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling with an intensity that could have set it on fire. Kirishima’s words echoed in his head, mingling with the memory of your voice and the image of your face. He hated how much it all got to him, how much he couldn’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. He hated the way his chest ached every time he thought about the hurt in your eyes and the way you’d walked away from him, your shoulders slumped in defeat. But most of all, he hated how much he wanted to see you again, to fix things, to say something—anything—that could make up for what he’d done.

Meanwhile, you were doing your best to move on. You’d been avoiding Bakugo as much as possible, throwing yourself into training and schoolwork to keep your mind occupied. It wasn’t easy, though. Every time you saw him, whether it was in class or during meals, you felt a sharp pang of hurt that refused to go away. You hated how much he still affected you, even after he’d made it painfully clear that he didn’t feel the same way.

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t matter, that you’d be fine without him, the ache in your chest lingered. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong to hope, if you’d been foolish to believe that he might have cared about you even a little.

Little did you know, Bakugo was sitting in his room, wrestling with his own feelings and cursing himself for the way he’d handled things. Because for all his bravado and pride, the truth was unavoidable: he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more he tried to push you out of his mind, the more you consumed his every thought.

The days following your rejection from Bakugo had been a haze of hurt and confusion. You tried to keep yourself busy—extra training, study sessions, anything to keep your mind from replaying the harsh way he’d dismissed you. But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, it lingered. You still felt the sting of his words, the way he’d looked at you like you were an obstacle instead of someone he cared about. That wound didn’t heal easily.

You avoided him as much as you could. You’d shift to a different group during training, sit at the far end of the cafeteria during meals, and leave the common area whenever he showed up. It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped; your friends noticed, and you were pretty sure Bakugo did too. Still, you couldn’t face him—not after everything he’d said.

What you didn’t know was that your absence weighed on him far more than he let on.

Bakugo was not a man who easily admitted to mistakes. Pride had been ingrained in him from an early age, and he carried it like armor. But lately, that armor felt suffocating, like it was pressing in on him from all sides. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying the hurt in your eyes when he’d lashed out. Every time he saw you purposely turning away from him or laughing with someone else, he felt a sharp pang of regret that he didn’t know how to fix.

Kirishima’s words lingered too. “You’re scared because you like her so much it freaks you out. But running from it won’t make it go away.” As much as Bakugo wanted to punch him for saying it, he knew it was true. He’d been running from his feelings because they terrified him. You terrified him—not because you were weak, but because of how much power you had over him without even realizing it. And that was what scared him most of all.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you avoid him, knowing he’d been the one to hurt you—it was eating him alive. If he didn’t do something soon, he was going to explode.

That’s what led him here, standing awkwardly a few feet away from where you sat on the bench outside. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on the notebook in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. Was this… nerves? He growled under his breath, frustrated with himself. He was Bakugo Katsuki, for crying out loud. He didn’t get nervous.

“Oi.” His voice came out rougher than he intended, and you jumped slightly, startled by his sudden presence.

You looked up, your eyes widening for a split second before your expression hardened. “What do you want?”

Bakugo flinched at the coldness in your tone, though he tried to hide it. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” you asked, already sounding exasperated. “If this is about training or some stupid lecture—”

“It’s not about training,” he cut in, stepping closer. His jaw tightened as he tried to find the right words. He wasn’t good at this, but he had to try. “It’s about what I said to you before.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into your expression. “Why are you bringing that up now? You already made your feelings perfectly clear, Bakugo. I don’t need to hear it again.”

He winced at the way you said his name—so formal, so distant. You used to call him Katsuki, back when things were simpler. Back when he hadn’t ruined everything.

“Just shut up and listen for a second, will you?” he snapped, though there was no real heat in his voice. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I… I screwed up, alright? I said some shit I didn’t mean, and I hurt you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your expression softened slightly, but your arms remained crossed, a barrier he knew he’d have to break through. “Then why did you do it? Why push me away if you didn’t mean it?”

“Because I’m a goddamn idiot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. His gaze dropped to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. “I thought… I thought if I let myself like you, I’d lose focus. That you’d get in the way of my goals.”

“And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Now I know that’s total bullshit,” he said, finally looking up to meet your eyes. “You don’t make me weaker. You make me want to be better. And no matter how much I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the damn time, and it’s driving me insane.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, but you still hesitated. “You really hurt me, Katsuki,” you said softly, the pain evident in your voice. “I don’t know if I can just forget that.”

He stepped closer, his gaze intense and unwavering. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking for a chance to fix it. I was a dumbass, and I don’t deserve it, but… I want to try. With you.”

The vulnerability in his voice was so raw, so uncharacteristic, that it left you speechless. You searched his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was regret and determination.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Look, I know I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his hands twitching at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I’m not some smooth-talking idiot like Kaminari, and I’m probably gonna screw up a hundred more times. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove I’m not gonna hurt you again.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. This was Bakugo Katsuki—the same boy who never admitted when he was wrong, who bulldozed his way through life without looking back. And here he was, laying his pride at your feet, just for a chance to make things right.

“You’re really bad at this, you know,” you said finally, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

He huffed, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly my strong suit.”

You laughed softly, the sound making his chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. For the first time in weeks, you felt the tension between you start to dissolve.

“So, what now?” you asked, taking a tentative step closer.

“Now I do this,” he said, his voice low as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in. His crimson eyes searched yours for a moment, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance and kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, almost shy, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hands reaching up to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer. He kissed you like he was trying to make up for every moment he’d wasted, pouring all the unspoken feelings he couldn’t put into words into that one act.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads resting together, you were both breathless. He smirked, his usual cocky confidence creeping back in. “Told you I’d make it up to you.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’ve got a long way to go, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed the gruffness of his tone. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around and prove it.”

And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Feel free to request <3

[estellardreams]

Dancing in the starlight~

[Hi @totaleclipse573! I made another thing for you! :D]

[buckiverse]

Surrender to You

☆--- paring: sylus x reader

☆--- summary: You suggested a reluctant marriage of convenience due to your struggles in the N109 Zone. Now Sylus, will show you what it truly means to surrender both body and heart to him.

☆--- word count: 6.2k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, mating press, missionary, bit of background story (not really lore accurate), reader is a virgin, soft!dom sylus, size kink if you squint, sylus is in love fr, no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: the amount of time it took me to edit this was a bit ridiculous

The N109 Zone has danger lurking throughout it. From the darkest alleys to the stores, they all had one thing in common: The prioritization of information. That is your current motivation. You need more information and quick. Since the death of your beloved family members, you could no longer be complacent. It’s been hard being left in the dark. You thought you could trust the hunter’s association to be honest with you, but that was a lie.

You asked around a lot… from your hunting partner, Xavier, to your colleague Tara and even your boss, Jenna. No one could answer you honestly. Most of them barely “knew” what the N109 Zone was besides the fact that it was perilous. But that much was obvious. 

You took to your own devices, relying on your resourcefulness. You looked online and did intensive research. All you could find out was that a significant catastrophe had transpired... Wander's took over, something to do with the state of protocores, resulting in a significant division between city areas. As a result, the sub-city known as the N109 Zone was established. You could not explain why, but you were sure it was due to the deaths of your parents, as well as your grandmother and childhood friend. 

Initially, the plan was to invade the area, get information, meet some people, and decipher everything while remaining incognito. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. You were kidnapped by the most prominent organization in the N109 Zone, Onyichinus. Run by… Sylus? “Yeah, who the hell was that?” you thought aloud. You had never heard of this dude; I mean Onyichinus... Yes. But, even the Hunter’s Association defined the organization as faceless. It was an arduous task to uncover the head of the unit. 

So that is how you ended up here, making a bargain with the devil. The other factions in the area had been restless since discovering your Protocore Syndrome. It was considered a hot commodity. Everywhere you turned, there was danger. This made your job to find the truth more difficult. As a result, you only partially appreciated Sylus's presence.

 “Look, all I want is some information,” you said. Your eyes narrowed as you took in Sylus’s figure. 

“Ah, is that so? And what exactly do you want to know? Everything comes with a price.” he replied. His head tilted slightly, a slight smirk forming on his lips. 

You thought carefully, considering your following response. “It’s not your business; just know that intelligence on Protocore Syndrome has spread, and it’s impossible to handle business. So I’d like to make a deal.”

“And what would that be?” Sylus reacted with amusement.

You replied swiftly, not missing a beat. “We should marry,” you responded confidently. 

Sylus arched an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with something, almost a mix of interest and amusement– that smug bastard, you thought. You attempted to hide your scour; you needed this more than you needed to get one over on the gray-haired man. 

“And how does this deal benefit me?”

“That’s for you to decide and for us to discuss,” you acknowledged. A great silence overcame the room of Sylus's office. You stared at him, holding your resolve, waiting for a reply. 

“Deal”, he replied suddenly. You disguised your surprise, sticking out your right hand to shake his. “Good then.” You said, recovering swiftly. 

“I will handle the guests; you handle the small planning details. Utilize Luke, Kieran, and my card.” Your thoughts were threatened by disbelief. The ease with which he was complying with this was astounding. You wondered, honestly, what Sylus gets out of the arrangement. You told yourself it's nothing to do with you. Finding the truth is what matters; this is only one more step to complete your goal. 

☆---

The venue you chose was stunning. The ceiling mirrored the most beautiful mosaics. The depictions of gods and angels were magnificent. You had never seen something so gorgeous. You reflected on the story presented in the ceiling. What would your life be like under this 'arrangement'? This was serious. It was real and binding. You were having second thoughts, wondering if the information was worth it all. But you encouraged yourself, "Of course, it’s worth it, y/n! How can you live the rest of your life without knowing the truth?” you affirmed aloud, looking around the venue. Everything felt real now. It's only been a few weeks at the Onyichinus base, but it has been productive intel-wise. 

Moving on through your tour, you looked straight ahead at the expansive hall where the ceremony would occur. It was covered in intricate detail. The mosaic patterns worked down the walls, creating various shapes of circles and rectangles in its stead. In front of the walls was a white display of roses. The flowers were delicately spread throughout the venue, covering the reflected pattern on the marble floors. You moved your feet, looking to where the audience would be. Your heart plummeted when you realized you would only know Sylus, Luke, and Kieran. "It is just business, y/n," you said to yourself, adjusting your expression.  

You truly outdid yourself; aside from the grandeur of the ceiling and walls, the remainder of the venue echoed the luxurious color schemes of white and black, with gold touches throughout. It was beautiful, but it was purely professional. Despite the vibrancy around you, you could not help but feel the sterility of the place. You kept your guard up, even to yourself. This is a warzone, and you have allowed Sylus to invite danger. 

As you walked to the reception area, you could not help but admire the luxurious atmosphere. The black marble floors mirrored the massive tree in the center of the room. Chandeliers dangled from the strong branches, illuminating the space. You wandered around the white gold seats and tables, admiring the centerpieces. A glass foundation supported large bouquets of white roses in the center of the table. Each table had the right tableware and a black tablecloth folded into black swans. Reminding you of the rationale for your decision, you must persevere to achieve actual change. 

You looked up as you approached the grand double doors at the end of the hall and noticed Sylus watching you silently. "I trust you managed the guest list," you remarked, jerking out of your thoughts. “Of course, sweetie. Only the most important people. Though I did include a few surprises—what is a wedding without some fun?" he quipped. You rolled your eyes at that. Why is he always insisting on pet names? This is not meant to be authentic.

“This is supposed to be a business arrangement, Sylus. ‘Fun’ wasn't exactly part of the plan.”  You sighed harder than you wanted to, and Sylus simply responded with a slight smirk and laughter.

“Whatever you say… sweetie.” He then turned and made his way out of the wedding venue, leaving you standing there in shock. “Well–are you coming? Assuming you’re hungry, should I let you continue standing there looking lost?” You felt your face flush.

“Fine,” you said, quickly moving through the grand double doors. You slipped outside, watching as Sylus opened the car door for you.

☆---

A few days later, you found yourself in the venue's dressing room, staring yourself down. “This is fucking crazy,” you exclaimed. The realization struck once more: this is happening. 

You were wearing the most stunning gown. It was covered in thousands of tiny diamonds, sewn individually into the dress. The neckline reminded you of a wide v-neck as it rested between the valley of your breasts. Pushing them out just enough–you looked amazing. The dress was perfectly fitted to your curves, and you turned to admire your backside, noticing the cutout of the dress. The fabric rested just above the crack of your ass, but you could not help but admire your good looks.

‘One thing Sylus definitely can provide is unlimited money,’ you laughed out loud. Turning back to face yourself, you admired the mermaid bottom of the dress accentuating your curvy body. You felt like a whole new person.

Your swirling thoughts were cut short by the knocking on the door. “Yes?” you replied, swiftly turning towards the sound. Luke and Kieran opened the door and made their entrance. "Wow," they said in unison. "You look so beautiful, y/n!" Luke said. "The boss will undoubtedly love this dress on you," Kieran remarked. "And off," Luke added, getting pushed in the arm by Kieran. Your cheeks warmed at the statement; you had not considered consummating the marriage. 

Because once again, this is business, you convinced yourself. Even though Sylus is beautiful, his eyes, nose, and plump lips… “Anyway, this note is from the boss. We’ll see you out there, y/n,” said Kieran. You took the note from him and watched as they both walked out. 

A shudder ran down your spine as you held the note in your palm. You looked up to see Mephisto, who "cawed" at you as he flew through the open door. 

“He’s probably running to tell Sylus I got his note,” you commented, side-eyeing the door. The note had a red wax seal on the front of the black envelope. You opened it, and a little pop revealed the white note. You pulled it out with shaking hands.

“I promised you forever, and I don't break my promises.”

You felt your face flushing by the second. This note was so sudden, so why did it feel like he was talking about something deeper than these words reflected? You ran your hands over the words on the page, interrupting your thoughts, and you heard your song start. 

“You can do this, y/n,” you said, leaving the dressing room. Now is where the real work begins.

You stood at the end of the aisle and looked around. You recognized some of the biggest names in the N109 Zone. At least Sylus kept that promise, you thought. The piano rang the most angelic symphony, bringing emotion forth in you. 

You began your walk, stride confident, keeping your head high. Sylus stared at you, his smile widening as you worked your way before the steps. He reached down, grabbed your hand, helping you up the steps to the altar. The officiant began to address the crowd, but it felt like it was just you and Sylus. Why was he looking at you like that? You pondered.

“I’ve waited for this moment longer than you know,” Sylus whispered for only your ears to hear. You cocked your head slightly, you were going to ask what he meant by that, but the officiant addressed Sylus, stating the vows, “Do you take y/n to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward.” Sylus’s red eyes flickered as he looked down at you. “For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, ‘til death do you apart?” 

"I do," Sylus responded, his big hands attempting to secure the large rock to your finger. Your eyes watered slightly at the sight. Why is this so intense, you wondered, as the officiant recited the vows to you. Of course, you responded with an "I do." 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Sylus didn't hesitate. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. His touch was gentle but possessive, almost telling you that now you’re his. 

He kissed you firmly but slowly and deliberately. Sylus doesn't rush his kiss with you, almost like he is savoring the moment. The way his lips moved against yours sent warmth coursing through you, pulling you deeper just for a moment. 

For a second, you hesitated, thinking you should pull away and make distance. But then Sylus slid his hand around your neck, pulling you closer and deepening your kiss. And you went with it, kissing him back, slowly at first and then increasing the intensity. 

The world around you faded. It felt like it was just the two of you. Allowing the kiss to linger on longer than it should have. When Sylus pulled away, his lips parted slightly, and you felt his warm breath against your skin. He whispered just for you to hear:

“If you wanted more, sweetie, all you had to do was ask.”

You felt your chest tighten, and you swallowed hard at his statement. You hated that he could make you feel like this. You forced yourself to look away. “Don’t get used to it,” you muttered quickly, knowing your heart raced at the kiss you shared.

Sylus smirked while looking into your eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

☆---

The reception truly went off without a hitch. Some people you’ve never met made elegant speeches, wishing for happiness and prosperity. This was so fake you fought the urge to roll your eyes at the theatrics displayed before you. You glanced at Sylus, admiring his features as the current speaker discussed alliances and protections.

When Sylus leaned into your ear, “Is my face more interesting than the speech, sweetie?” 

You rolled your eyes at him and returned your attention to the speaker. “He’s so cheeky,” you thought. Despite your harsh admissions, you secretly enjoyed his playfulness. It made this whole ordeal feel lighter.

After serving food and drinks, Sylus walked you around the room. The reception hall buzzed with conversation. The guests mingled about discussing business deals disguised as casual conversation. Sylus worked the room effortlessly. His hand rested on the small of your back, sending tingles up your spine as he made contact with your bare skin.

“Ah, there you are,” Sylus said smoothly, flashing a charming smile. “I want you to meet Mr. Blackthorne. He’s one of the key players in the project we’ve been discussing.”

Mr. Blackthorne turned to face you, offering a firm handshake. His gaze lingered over you, measuring you up. You returned the handshake, nodding politely. “It’s a pleasure,” you said.  

Truthfully, your mind was already wandering. The prospects of the evening had been exhausting. The smiling and pretending were weighing on you, and Sylus’s insistence on blurring the lines between you wasn't helping. Focusing was so hard your mind constantly drifted back to the kiss you shared just hours before.

Mr. Blackthorne spoke about contacts, future meetings, and something else—but you couldn't tell what. Your eyes continued to drift around the room, searching for a distraction. You tried your hardest to avoid looking at the white-haired man beside you.

After a few moments, Mr. Blackthore excused himself. “I hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening. We'll be in contact soon, " he said, nodding and walking away.

A smile became present on Sylus’s face. “Sweetie, I think you missed that entire conversation,” He teased, his voice amused. “I could see it on your face—completely checked out. What were you thinking about, hmm?”

Your face heated instantly, and you shot him a sharp look. “I was listening.”

“Really?” Sylus raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “It looked to me like your mind was somewhere else entirely. Let me guess… still thinking about that kiss at the altar?”

Your eyes widened at his assertion. “It was just a kiss, Sylus,” you said curtly.

He chucked at your discomfort, “Sure if you say so. But next time, you might want to pay more attention when I introduce you to someone important. We wouldn’t want them thinking you’re too distracted by your new husband to focus on business, now would we?”

Your pulse quickened the way he said, “Husband.” “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” you shot back. You felt like a firecracker inside. 

Sylus grinned at you. “Good. Because I have a feeling I’m going to be keeping your attention quite a bit from now on, " he said, grabbing your hand as another guest approached the two of you. The conversation was a perfect invitation to shift your mind from his teasing. 

The wedding ended quickly after that. When you looked up, you felt that the wedding had ended, and you were in the backseat of an old luxury car, staring directly at Sylus. The mood was slightly lighter than at the wedding, yet it felt heated. And he could not take his gaze away from you; he was blatantly checking you out, making the ride seem shorter. 

“You planned the perfect wedding, but tonight is where the real deal begins, sweetie,” Sylus suggested. The driver maneuvered the luxury car to the massive private gateway of the Onyichinus base. The base itself was vast and Gothic. You had never really stopped to appreciate the building's grandeur before. You reminded yourself that this was only temporary. 

Entering the gate revealed a primarily gray and black building spanning at least a few hundred acres. The arches rested so high in the sky that they broke through the beautiful tranquility of sunset. Large windows, elegant arches, detailed carvings, and the crow resting at the highest peak of the building. How had you not realized the beauty of this place amidst the chaos of the N109 Zone? 

Distracting you from your realizations, Sylus reached for your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts and the car. This felt different now. Sylus led you into the great corridors, walking for what seemed like miles. You walked through the two doors into Sylus's bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, and soft candlelight cast shadows across it. The wedding had been a blur, but now the evening had ended. It was just the two of you.

His room smelled so fucking good. A simple vanilla musk? But it was so amazing that you wanted to bury your face in his sheets. You heard the doors click behind you, bringing you to the present. Sylus leaned his upper back against the oak doors, his giant chest moving up and down, the only sound in the room being your breathing. 

“You’re safe with me, no matter what,” he said, moving off the door and towards you, standing by his bed. Your heart pounded in your chest; it felt so loud that it drowned out the silence. You knew this moment might come, but now you stood before Sylus.

“You’re nervous,” he said softly, his voice lower now, less playful than it had been all evening.

You swallowed, and your throat felt tight. You didn’t know what to say. The air had a thick, unspoken tension. This was supposed to be part of the deal—another step in this arrangement. But now you feel vulnerable in front of him.

Sylus stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you time to feel every bit of space he closed between you two. His hand came up, gently brushing your hair out of your face. The touch was tender, and it made your breath hitch.

“You don’t have to be,” he murmured, his thumb lightly grazing your jawline, tipping your chin upwards so your eyes met his. “I’m not in a rush.”

Your chest tightened. You knew Sylus for his confidence, his teasing—proficiency at getting under your skin—but now, there was something different in his eyes. A softness you didn't know he possessed.

“I—I don’t know what to expect,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. You felt so exposed; your inexperience was so evident. It was increasingly hard to maintain your usual composure.

His smile was slow, warm, knowing. “You think too much, sweetie.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours—not demanding, not forceful, just soft and testing. The kiss was meant to calm you and reassure you, yet you found yourself responding. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, slightly deepening the kiss.

When he pulled back, Sylus’s red eyes searched for yours. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious now.

You bit your lip, your heart still racing. You were nervous, but some of you also wanted to trust him. How he looked at you, and his touch sent sparks through your skin… you wanted him.

“I don’t want to stop,” you admitted, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He kissed you again, but this time with more intensity, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate, intoxicating rhythm. Each brush of his mouth sent a warm shiver through you, and instinctively, you rose onto the tips of your toes, your hands pressing against his chest as if to steady yourself. His heart beat strong and steady beneath your fingertips, grounding you as your pulse raced.

The kiss deepened, his tongue softly parting your lips in a request for more. You hesitated only momentarily, then parted them, inviting him in. His tongue brushed against yours, teasing and coaxing, his every movement confident and controlled. It was overwhelming and perfect, a mix of dominance and tenderness that left you breathless.

Sylus pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your swollen lips. He was grinning now, his eyes dark with desire and amusement. “Why don’t you let me help you with this?” His voice was a low murmur, and before you could respond, his hands slid to your waist, his fingers curling possessively around your hips.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he turned you, his body pressing against yours from behind. Your back pressed to his chest, and your breath hitched as you realized what he was doing. He had positioned you in front of a mirror. Your wide eyes met your reflection, and you could see Sylus’s smirk in the glass, his gaze fixed on you with a heat that made your skin tingle.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your neck as his hands moved to the fabric of your dress. “So beautiful when you’re nervous.” His fingers began to undo the delicate fastening at the back, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every second.

The sight of him undressing you in the mirror, the way he watched your every reaction, sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t entirely suppress. You felt vulnerable and exposed, but there was something undeniably magnetic about the way he controlled the moment, making it impossible for you to look away from the reflection of your shared desire.

Sylus leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder as your dress began to loosen under his touch. “Let me show you how good this can be,” he murmured, his voice a silken promise that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

And as his hands continued their slow, teasing exploration, you realized you were already too far gone to resist. His movements caused the straps of your dress to loosen, but you held the fabric against your chest, not letting it fall.

He pressed soft kisses against your earlobe. “Let it fall,” he commanded tenderly. Your breath hitched at his command, but you complied, allowing the dress to fall forward, revealing your nipples.

“Beautiful,” he said. Reaching his large hands to cup your breasts. Sylus pulled your body back till you were flush against his broad chest. He was moving his hands to play with your nipples. He rubbed them softly, allowing them to harden between his fingers and tugging them forward firmly. He watched your reaction in the mirror as your face contorted slightly to tug your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He grinned, removing his hands from your nipples to the back of your neck. He dragged his middle finger down to just above your ass, where the fabric of the dress ended. You tilted your head slightly at the movement of his hands. You missed the warmth of his hands on your nipples, but you didn't dare ask for them back as you wanted to see what he was doing next. 

Suddenly, you heard the hidden zipper opening the rest of your dress. You stepped forward out of the dress just in panties, turning around to fully face Sylus. “You’re so beautiful,” Sylus murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he gazed down into your eyes. He pulled you in for a soft, lingering kiss—just enough to make your heart race. You flushed under his gaze, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks but not daring to look away.

“Let me help you, Sylus,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t be the only one left like this.” You reached up, gripping his tie and giving it a playful tug, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

His smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Take it off then,” he challenged, his voice low and teasing, daring you with his trademark confidence.

Your hands moved to unwork his tie, pulling him closer to you, causing him to chuckle slightly and grab your bare waist. You shuddered slightly under his touch, continuing your steady exploration. You discarded his tie to the floor and began unbuttoning his perfectly fitting shirt. It was a red button-up. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing Sylus’s beautifully sculpted body. You innocently peered up at his intense stare. He watched your every movement so close that the only sound in the room was your shared breaths. You drew your finger from his collarbone down to his navel, where you watched him flex slightly at your touch.

You slid his shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor before lowering yourself to your knees in front of him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, a smirk curving his lips as he looked down at you.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing down there?” His voice was rich with amusement and teasing but edged with something darker and more intense.

You glanced up at him, a slight pout forming on your flushed face. “Helping you undress,” you replied softly but with playful defiance.

Your hands moved to the front of his pants, your fingers steady as you unbuckled his belt. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops was the only thing breaking the tension in the room.

You looked up at Sylus, licking your lips. You pressed your hand against the bulge in his briefs. Your eyes widened a bit, realizing his size. It’s so big.

Sylus’s hand reached down, his fingers threading through your hair gently but firmly. He tugged you up to your feet with one swift motion, pulling you close until your chest pressed against his. His eyes, dark and heated, locked with yours as his other hand slid around your waist, securing you against him.

“That’s enough of you on your knees, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Without another word, he tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, leaving no doubt who was in control of the moment. His touch was possessive, but there was a gentleness in how his fingers trailed over your skin, as if he was savoring every inch of the contact.

He laid you back gently on the bed. You looked up at him, patient and waiting, propping yourself up on your forearms.

The noise in your mind was silenced as all you could focus on was Sylus. He dragged his large hands languidly down your body, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. It was a lacy white piece that beautifully complimented your skin. He hooked his fingers underneath it, tugging the fabric down the length of your legs before discarding them behind him.

You held your legs together, not daring to let them fall apart. Sylus’s hands worked between your knees “Kitten, relax for me”, he said softly, looking longingly into your eyes. You allowed yourself to relax a bit as he pulled your legs apart. “That’s my girl,” he drawled. 

“Fuck, you’re drenched” He knelt before you, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers traced slow circles teasing you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Do you want me to taste you, sweetie?” The question tested your resolve, and he waited for your response. 

“Y-yes,” you whispered. Your hands moved up to cover your face. 

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile, his eyes gleaming at your permission. He leaned in, his fingers parting your folds before pressing a single, languid, wet kiss against your core. The sensation of his kiss caused you to arch your back, “Oh god, Sylus.”

“mhm, you taste so sweet,” he murmured. His voice was thick with desire as he continued to tease you. The sound of his voice, the noises from his mouth as he made out with your cunt, made you wetter. 

You felt his rough hands hold under your knees, pushing your legs further apart, splaying you open for him.

“Tell me how it feels, Kitten. Tell me how much you want me to make you cum for me.” Your back arched off the bed, your hands moving to grip his hair. You felt heat moving through you.

Sylus took his time, drawing out your pleasure. He was focused on bringing you to the edge. He spent time learning you, tasting you.

“Please… p-please, Sylus, I want to come.” This was the first time you've ever been touched like this, and you loved it. You had never felt anything like this before. Touching yourself could never compare to what Sylus was doing to you. 

Sylus’s tongue flicked faster, and his fingers moved, pressing that sensitive spot inside you. His eyes opened and locked onto yours, his gaze fierce. He was testing your reaction and pressing the little spot inside you firmer.  

You squirmed against his face, and your moans escaped you. You gripped his hair harder, pulling his mouth closer to you.

“Say it again, sweetie. Beg me to let you cum.” 

Fuck, his mouth is filthy. 

His tongue swirled around your clit, drawing your orgasm nearer.

He wanted to hear it, wanted you to surrender completely to him, to trust him. His lips closed around your clit, sucking down on your nub hard, driving you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers joined in, working your insides as he stroked your slick cunt with his mouth.

“Say it, kitten. Say you want to cum for me.”

“I want to come for you, please!” you shouted. Tears threatening to fall off your eyelashes.

Sylus’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with triumph as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch. Your orgasm crashed over you, and pleasure flooded your senses. Your legs spasmed as you came on his tongue. 

He held you down while you came, allowing you to ride out your pleasure. His tongue lingered until the very last moment, leaving you quivering and desperate for more.

You lay against the bed, your body slowly coming down from the high. You couldn't find the words for a moment, your mind still swimming from what he’d just done.

Finally, you managed a shaky breath, your voice soft but laced with disbelief. “I… didn’t know it could feel like that.” Your cheeks flushed at the admission.

Sylus hovered above you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes lit up with satisfaction as he looked down at you, watching you try to catch your breath, your flushed cheeks, and parted lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand slid up your thigh, sending another shiver through you. “I’m just getting started. Trust me, it can feel even better.” His tone was both a promise and a challenge, daring you to let him take you further.

A shaky breath left your lips, and a wave of heat ran through you from his words. A small smile fell on your lips. “I guess I’ll have to trust you, won’t I?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned your head to meet his eyes. Your tone was still nervous, but your body’s response to him showed how you felt. 

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. “Be careful with me… just for now,” you said, smiling slightly, allowing yourself to be a bit vulnerable with him.

His hand slid to your waist, fingers curling around your hip as he pulled you toward him again.

“Oh, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice a smooth, velvety purr, “you don’t just ‘have to’ trust me… you’re going to want to.”

His fingers traced slow circles on your skin, sending shivers through you. “Trust me,” he whispered, “I’m very good at making you want more.”

At that, you turned him towards the bed, pushing him down on his back. You straddled him, and you felt his clothed bulge pressing against your naked pussy, leaving a wet spot on him. You laid your hands on his chest, rubbing your hands down his hard body. Your heart was pounding through your chest. You moved your hands to push down his briefs, feeling his cock in your hands. 

Sylus flexed his abs at your touch. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching in his throat. You wrapped your fingers around him; he felt heavy in your palm. 

Sylus watched you through half-lidded eyes. Waiting for your next move until he switched your positions. You were now underneath him, his cock hard and ready, resting against your thigh. 

He sat up and positioned himself at your entrance. His eyes trained on where you’d be connected. The head of his cock rubbed against your arousal, catching on your sensitive clit. Your breath caught as he moved to press his erection inside.

Fuck. You felt your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. You saw the flush forming on his cheeks through your teary eyes. 

He bottomed out in you, finally looking into your eyes. “Breathe for me, kitten.” And you did. His hands came down by your head, caging you in. His hips moved backward, pushing back into you slowly. 

His mouth parted slightly as he looked down at you, “You feel so good.” he grits out. 

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours. You stayed there, not daring to look away. Your breath hitched, and your heart pounded out of your chest. You could feel him throbbing inside you, causing your walls to clench around him. 

Sylus moves by repositioning your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to move deeper within you. Your tits bounced up and down at the power of his thrusts. He moved his hands to pinch your nipples. The pinch of his fingers shot heat to your core, making you squeeze around him again. 

“Fuck” he purred out, his eyes closed at the feeling of you wrapping around him. He moved his hands in between your legs, settling on your clit. He rubbed it steadily, flicking it between his thumb.

Your mind was empty from Sylus fucking you. He was hitting that sensitive spot inside your pussy over and over. You felt your body tensing up again, the wave of pleasure starting to work through your body.

 “Come for me one more time, kitten. Let me hear you.” Sylus whispered into your ear, pressing your legs back by your head. You felt him kiss the shell of your ear. You could feel your sensitive nipples rubbing against his chest, his thumb playing with your clit. 

“Come for me, Wife.”

You gasped, body trembling as the tension in your core built until it snapped. “Sylus…!” you cried out, your voice breaking as your body twitched uncontrollably in his arms. He held you firm, grounding you as his thrusts remained slow and deliberate, each one pushing you further into bliss.

“Look at me,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. You forced your eyes open, locking onto his. His beautiful, red gaze never wavered, even now. The look in his eyes was more than lust—it was a connection, raw intimacy that seemed to transcend the physical. It made your heart skip a beat, just as much as the sensation of him inside you.

His pace faltered then, his movements growing erratic as he drove into you deeper, harder. “Fuck,” he growled, his lips parting in a low, primal sound that sent shivers through you. His body tensed, muscles tight as he pushed as far into you as he could, his release crashing through him.

With a final groan, Sylus collapsed forward, his weight settling over you as you both came down from your highs. His breath was warm against your skin, his heartbeat slowing in time with yours.

He lifted his head, eyes softening as they met yours again, a tenderness replacing the intensity from moments before. “Thank you for trusting me, y/n,” he whispered, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek.

“You’ve given me every reason to,” you said, smiling at him gently.

☆---

yall this idea was stuck in my head for a solid two weeks. i blame twitter l&ds stans for this. I SWORE i did not fuck with sylus like that up until a couple weeks ago...

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut: Teasing will get you Somewhere

Gif found on Pinterest unknown credit

Warnings/Mentions: Blue balls, Dark/Rough!Daryl, sexual teasing (Daryl receiving) rough sex, spitting, choking, manhandling, biting, blood blisters, spanking, bruising, it might smell like dubcon but it's not

Summary: Reader wants to see Daryl at his breaking point, teasing and depriving him of release until he gets there. 

Notes: I loved writing this so much. While trying to think of a plot for dark!Daryl I remembered this idea/prompt someone had like 5 years ago where the reader teases a guy until he cracks and just goes crazy. I think it was a fanfiction, but I looked through my bookmarks and ao3 history and couldn't find anything like this so if you know what I'm talking about please let me know!!

All you wanted from the start was to see Daryl snap. He was such an aggressive loudmouthed man, but not in the way you wanted him to be. 

He'd started flirting with you to appease Merle, the man who'd instantly noticed how you swooned around Daryl. The younger Dixon didn't believe him, of course, but he approached you to avoid the harsh blows of Merle calling him a ‘belly-up pussy’ along with more distasteful slurs. 

His way of “flirting” was a lot like Merles at first. Offensive, inappropriate, you know the rest. You'd been patient enough to politely explain that you weren't like the type of women that would fuck Merle after he called them a 'sweet piece of Georgian ass', and he took the hint. 

Daryl was shockingly sweet after that. He was less verbal after learning vulgar compliments weren't the way to go, but it turned out alright for you in the end. He began looking after you like you were his full responsibility. Making sure you were fed first, bringing home clothes specifically for you, along with any other treats he thought you might like. 

It was great, aside from him never making a move on you. He gawked like you were an alien when you started dressing for his gaze, Bobby Brooks shorts, pretty tank tops, even shaving your legs once in a while. But he never made a move. 

That simply wouldn't do. 

It was late one night and you'd slipped into his tent. 

“The hell you doin'?” He cursed, wiping the sleep from his eyes as you zipped up the flap behind you. 

“Can't sleep, Carl won't stop coughing.” 

You'd been sharing a tent with Lori and Carl ever since you arrived with T-Dog. It wasn't a complete lie, Carl was coughing up a storm, sick with some chest cold, but that wasn't the reason for your lack of sleep.

“I got some earplugs.” He sat up and began shifting through his bags. 

“No, it's okay. Can I crash here tonight?” You asked innocently, kicking off your casual flip flops that you saved for night time piss breaks or trips to get water. 

Daryl tried hiding his surprise . The stutter in his voice gave him away. “Uh, sure, I guess. S’long as ya dun snore.”

You behaved for an impressive amount of time. Lying in silence, not moving an inch, waiting for him to loosen up before quietly shifting backwards until your back was pressed up against his chest. 

His heart felt seconds away from collapsing in on itself when he felt you. He'd popped a semi when you'd taken off that big T-shirt he'd given you, and now it was bordering on a full on erection.

You waited until you felt his body relax, which took longer than you originally estimated, and then wiggled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate. He sucked in a breath through his nose and made this choking sound. He grabbed your hips, only for a split second before yanking his hands away like he'd been burned. 

You wiggled again, pushing back until the feeling of the outline of his dick against your ass was ingrained into your memory. 

It didn't take long to wear him down, not at all. He let out a strangled groan and rocked into you, his self restraint long since thrown out the window.

And then you stopped.

He nearly gasped at the loss of friction. The feeling was so devastating that it sobered him, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

“Wha-” he panted. His fingers loosened their hold on your hips and twitched against the fabric of your pajama shorts. “Why'd ya stah- stop?”

“I'm sleepy.” You said plainly, pulling the thin sheet up to your shoulders in emphasis. 

Daryl caught his breath behind you, struggling to make sense of it all through his confusion and disappointment. He grumbled something that sounded like it held an attitude, though sadly that was the extent of his protests. 

You needed more. You needed him to tear your clothes off and ravish you like the animal you knew he was. The Daryl that feverishly humped you like his life depended on it was cute, but you needed the Daryl that he was in his daily life. 

The only way you could think of was to force it out of him, even if it did torture the poor man in the process. 

You kept up the innocent teasing for a while. You took a break after Merle went missing, you knew your limits and his. You weren't a total selfish piece of shit. Only when you arrived at the farm and he began talking to you again did you resume your game of “teasing Daryl until he cracks”.

“How's it look?” You gave a cheeky smile as you turned in a circle with your hands on your hips. 

You'd put on the pair of green cargo shorts he'd found you. They weren't very practical, holding only four pockets, which was less than normal cargo shorts, but they were scandalous. The fabric hugged your ass tight enough to look damn near pornographic. 

“Didn't realize they were that tiny. Christ.” Daryl muttered with pink cheeks. “Jus’ give ‘em ta Beth. 

“Oh god. Can you imagine her face? That girl is still wearing pants in late summer. Her daddy would kill me.” You snorted and turned back to face him. “I'm keeping these bad boys. The fabric is soft. Wanna feel?” 

“Already felt em when I took em.” Despite his words, he set down his knife to free up his hands. 

“Give me your hand.” 

The poor boy was so eager to feel you that he practically threw his hands in yours. When you placed his palms on the sides of your shorts he seemed to snap to life, dropping the nonchalant attitude to rub his thumbs over the fabric covering your hips and thighs. 

You tried to keep the smug smirk off your face, and failed miserably. He was turning himself on just by touching the clothing that covered your pelvis. 

Suddenly, you pulled away, feeling your heart lurch in your chest at the way his face dropped.

“Thanks again. I've been needing new shorts.” 

“Yeah. Uh-huh. S'nothin.”

It went on like that for a while. 

One night you climbed into his tent again with the ruse of being cold, and he didn't mention the fact it was a warm seventy degrees that night. You were wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt and panties, and made sure to make Daryl aware of this when you slid your knee over his thigh. 

Nothing happened that night either, nothing other than pretending to sleep while he palmed himself through his jeans. 

Another time you put on those green cargo shorts and offered to tidy up his camp, an offer he was quick to accept just so he could watch you needlessly bend over to grab random objects to place somewhere else. 

Once you even made out with him. Late at night in his tent, things got hot and heavy and you straddled him, wearing the same oversized T-shirt and panties, washed since then, of course. 

He was nervous at first, you could tell by the way his hands trembled on their way up your sides. You kissed him slow and sweet, nothing too extreme, not until he pushed his hot tongue against your lips. 

You let him in and groaned at the enthusiasm he showed. He kissed you like you were still teenagers, up in the loft of some barn hiding away from Daddy. 

“Shit.” He panted against your lips. He moved his hands down to your waist and pulled you down hard, groaning when he got that first taste of friction he so desperately craved.

“Slow down.” You breathed. Your body betrayed your words, your hips rolling down gentle and slow, just enough to feel the outline of his aching cock through your clothing. 

“Why?” He muttered before pressing another kiss against your lips. “Wha's stoppin’ ya? I got condoms. Glenn's got the pill. S'fine.” 

You pulled up and away from his lips. He looked so pretty beneath you all desperate like that. It still wasn't what you wanted. 

“I don't know, Daryl-” Your voice choked into a whine when he moved under you, the friction momentarily rendering you speechless. 

“Can't ya feel what yer doin’ to me? Huh?” He snapped his hips again, forcing out another whine. “S’all for you. C'mon now.”

“Not here Daryl.” You tried to keep your voice level and firm. “Not in some tent where we have to be quick and quiet.” 

“Le’s go somewhere then. Anywhere ya want, don't care. Tell me. I'll take ya.” 

Truthfully, that almost made you give in. But it still wasn't the Daryl you wanted to experience. He was desperate, but not desperate enough. 

“Not tonight, Daryl. It's too late and Shane's on watch. He'll have my ass if he catches us sneaking out.” 

Daryl growled in frustration, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “Won't get caught.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's just wait another night.” You pressed a kiss against his cheek, innocent enough, contrasting painfully with the way you ground down against him one last time before sliding off.

Part of you started doubting your plan. Daryl was too reluctant, too full of self doubt, too terrified at the aspect of losing whatever fun thing you had going on by pushing your limits. Even though you had no problem pushing his. 

His patience amazed you. Any other man would've thrown you to the side after the first few times, or ignored your “wishes” and dove right in. He didn't know that's what you wanted. You couldn't blame him. 

How could you tell someone like Daryl “I want you to fuck me with enough desire and aggression to give a nun a heart attack”? He'd been too gentle during foreplay, too submissive, you were beginning to think he was a virgin. 

Maggie gave you a dress. You didn't know who it once belonged to, her or her sister, but it was one of the cutest things you'd ever laid eyes on. A pretty moss green that went right below your knees, laces up your stomach the same color as the dress, and thankfully, no sleeves. 

The domestic look had Daryl in shambles. You looked like a farm wife from a damn magazine, it took everything he had in him not to fuck you behind the barn like he wanted. 

He took you out that day. On a ‘food supply run’, as he called it. You weren't anyone's first pick for runs, which you understood, you were easily distracted. It was your biggest fault.

So when he asked you specifically, and you alone, you were barely able to contain your excitement. 

The first place you stopped by was an old farmers corner store to pick up enough food so you didn't come back empty handed. A few canned goods, stale snacks and three cans of soda. 

He left that in the back of the truck when the two of you stopped by a house. A very nice house, to your surprise. 

“Can't believe this place hasn't been trashed.” You commented while rummaging through the kitchen. “No more food, but there's some lighter fluid.”

“Hm.” Daryl grunted. After securing the front door he found you still in the kitchen, chewing on a mouthful of gum. 

You'd shoved about three long sticks in your mouth. “Want some?”

He eyed the gum wrapped in silver paper before taking it from your outstretched hand with a gruff thanks. 

It was hard to focus on, his heart felt like it was in his throat, it was hard to swallow, and his jaw ached from his aggressive chewing. He'd done everything you wanted, got birth control; condoms and plan B. He found this nice house that same morning, almost immediately after seeing you walk outside in that dress. He even cleaned up the master bedroom for you, dusting off the sheets and beating the pillows, opening the windows to air out the room. 

There was no way you could wave him off now.

Oh, but you found a way. It was a talent that needed to be fucking studied. 

You were digging through the dresser in the upstairs bedroom when he approached you. You ignored the sound of the door shutting and locking behind him, pretending to be very interested in the contents of the bottom drawer. 

His hands found your sides. Your skin tingled as he pulled you to your feet and pressed you against the dresser with his palm on your lower back.

He went to kissing the back of your neck. His lips were light and soft, contrasting the anxiety bubbling in his gut. 

“Hmm.” You hummed. He brushed your hair over your right shoulder and went back to kissing your neck, peppering them all the way to the point of your left shoulder. 

“Missed ya'.” He muttered, pushing his hips forward to drive home his point. 

You tried not to laugh with pity at the feeling. He was already hard? Poor thing. 

“We're supposed to be looking for food.” You chided playfully. You shifted your ass and earned a low grunt of appreciation for the friction. 

“Then why’re ya in the bedroom?” He challenged. When you didn't respond he smirked against the skin on your neck. 

His hands didn't wait for permission. He bent his knees so he could grab the bottom of your dress, gathering it in his fists and pulling it up and over your ass. He sighed at the sight, you were wearing the type of panties he'd only ever seen on a clothing rack or behind a screen. Black soft fabric, tight and with lace around the hem, hugging your curves just right. 

“Daryl, come on.” You chuckled, but made no attempt to move. “They're gonna wonder where we went.”

He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Don't give a shit. They'll survive.” 

“And what is it you wanna do so bad that's more important than feeding our people, huh?” You mused, placing your palms on the dresser he was pushing you harder up against. 

“Ain't my people.” He quipped and ground into you, dying to make you feel how desperate he was for you. 

You choked back a moan. “You didn't answer my question.” 

“Want ya. Right here.”

“Want me to what?” 

Daryl sighed and released his hold on your dress to grip your waist. “Wanna fuck ya nice an’ good. Make y’feel what y’been missin’.”

You groaned. Your grip on the dresser turned white-knuckled as he pushed against you again. 

“Yeah?” Your breath trembled past your open lips. “What else?”

Daryl pressed himself closer, until his mouth was right at your ear. “Wanna feel what ya’ been keepin’ from me. Taste ya'. Shove my dick in that pretty lil’ mouth n’make ya sorry.” 

His words had an obvious effect on you. Your knees trembled and your breathing was louder, more shallow. 

But he still hadn't cracked. 

The curiosity was eating you alive. You couldn't give in now, not when he was so fucking close. You turned to face him and gave a ghost of a smile, trying your best to look sympathetic.

“Maybe some other time.” 

His eyes widened and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. His nostrils flared as his pupils darted over your face, looking frantically for the slightest sign telling him it was a joke. He looked hurt, confused, like you just slapped him in the face and called him a slur.

There it is. 

“You-” he choked out, “Y’aint serious?” 

You forced a nod. 

“Why?” The way he raised his voice sent a bolt of pleasure through your core, and you had to fight back a whimper. “Got everythin’ ya needed. Went through the trouble’a findin’ this place, ain't gotta be quiet, ain't gotta worry ‘bout walkers or someone hearin’, the hell else you want from me woman?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering. You bit your bottom lip and tried to steady your breathing, but when you stole a glance at his face and saw the expression held there your lungs shifted into overdrive. 

He looked so fed up. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” You whispered. 

Daryl sneered in contempt. “The hell can I do ‘bout it? Not gonna beg.”

You swallowed hard. You slowly shook your head, your chest rising and falling dramatically, your body still trapped between his arms, his hands on the dresser behind you. 

“Don't want you to beg.” 

You pressed a hand between his legs and he let out a strangled groan, his elbows swaying as they threatened to give out. You flexed your fingers to massage his length, and pulled away. 

His eyes shot open and just as quick his hand wrapped around your wrist, yanking you back to his bulge and nearly breaking your fingers in the process of shoving them down the waistband of his jeans. 

After unbuckling his belt he was able to cram your hand down deeper, forcing you to feel him. 

You gasped when your fingertips made contact. You didn't know a dick could get that hard. It felt just as firm as any other extremity. 

“Daryl.” You let out a long sigh as you gave a half assed attempt to pull your hand out. His grip on your wrist tightened. 

“Hmm?” The teasing tone of his hum made your clit throb. 

“We can't-” You didn't get to finish your sentence before he scoffed and picked you up. Like actually picked you up in his arms, bridal style. He threw you on the plush bed where you bounced a few times, and dove into you.

“S’enough.” He muttered. He pulled your dress up over your waist and looped his fingers through the sides of your panties. You thought he'd hesitate, take a look at the expression on your face and back off, but he didn't. He tugged them down your legs and tossed them off the bed in a random location. 

“Ain't some pussy ya’ got on a leash.” His fingers snaked between your legs, beelining for your cunt. He groaned in surprise, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. You were beyond wet at this point, his aggression had your folds like a slip n slide with lube instead of water. 

You bit back a moan. His fingers spread your folds, smearing your wetness around, his thumb pressing down against your clit. 

“Fuck!” You gasped. Your hips instinctively shifted to the side from the overwhelming sensation, but a firm grip on your waist quickly snatched you back. 

“Think y'can do whatever the hell ya’ want, and I'll jus’ sit back an’ let ya’?” He didn't give you time to answer. He pushed a finger inside you, and both of you hissed at the feeling. “Ffuck. Shit ain't like that no more, princess.” 

Any other time you would've snapped at the insult, but his finger digging around inside you had your mind blank. 

“Wha’s wrong? Huh?” He twisted his finger and you cried out. His voice was sickly sweet, something that should've pissed you off but only fueled your arousal. “Got nothin' to say?” His finger curled, a movement that held no thought behind it, though the way you gasped and arched your back had him repeating the action. 

Then he started mocking you. “Oh no, not now, it's not right, I'm not ready!” He scoffed in disgust. “Like ya’ a lot better when ya’aint speakin’.” 

Oh, god. You should be fuming. You should be spitting venom right back at him, but this is everything you'd wanted from him. It was all going according to plan. 

Maybe he knew that, or maybe he didn't. Either way he was behaving just as you'd imagined countless times, rough, mean, cruel and demanding. 

“C'mon, try a little bit.” He growled after leaning down to bite at your open neck. “Go on. Tell me it ain't the time. Tell me.”

You were nothing but a puddle under him. Your hands became too restless and reached up to grab at him, balling your fists in the back of his shirt.

Never in your life had a man treated you like this. No matter how bad you teased and gave subliminal signals. They would either indulge in your teasing, respect your wishes and back off when told to, or kiss and plead until you relented. 

Finally someone was fucking you like you had always wanted. Or, they were about to. 

The knuckle of his thumb had been digging into your clit for a good minute now, and despite how uncomfortable it could feel at times, you came quickly. 

You sucked in a sharp gasp and locked your legs around his waist, trying to pull his finger in deeper, or make his knuckle grind harder. 

Daryl groaned into your neck as you came around his finger. His hips jerked forward and bumped against his hand between your thighs, knocking his digit in deeper. You yelped, not expecting such a sharp sensation during your warm and soft climax. 

He withdrew his finger and you whined. 

“Sh-sh-sh.” You didn't think a hush could sound so condescending. “Got somethin' better. Gonna make you regret not takin’ it sooner.”

You said it before you could stop yourself. “You don't have it in you.” 

His eyes flicked up to your face as he pulled his zipper down, a look on his face that sent chills across your bare legs.

There was slight amusement, slight relief, as if someone finally gave him permission to show off and prove himself. Lips parted into a breathy smirk, tongue peeking between his teeth, and one eyebrow raised. 

Your eyes dropped to his pants when he pulled his cock free. It looked just as you imagined when you'd touched it only minutes ago, standing at full attention against his lower stomach.

You let out a sigh when you saw it reached his navel. 

Daryl leaned down until he was level with your pussy. You heard it before you felt it, the sound of him spitting, and then warm drool dropping right on your sensitive clit.

You squealed in protest, trying to raise yourself on your elbows, but he stopped you with a hand on your chest. With his free hand he smeared his spit over your already soaking folds, even going as far as to push some inside you with his finger. 

“Ew!” You gasped. 

You felt a tingle. Subtle at first, you just assumed it was the salinity of his saliva, and then more prominent. You were close to panicking until you saw the wad of white gum shoot out of his mouth, landing with a smack against the hardwood floor. 

At least you knew the source of the tingling. You swallowed your own gum, the same way you'd completely forgotten about.

The skin around your cunt buzzed when he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit, and you squirmed beneath him. He steadied you with the same hand on your chest. 

“Wait.” You inhaled deeply. He didn't wait though, he just pushed into your clenched hole, ignoring your whines.

“Ssss-shut up.” His voice trembled. He used his free hand to wrap around the base of his dick, holding it straight as he slowly pushed in further. 

“Y-you said you had condoms.” 

Daryl let out a loud groan as he sank into you. His right hand on your chest increased in pressure as more and more of his upper body weight bore down on it, forcing the air from your lungs. 

He was so thick, and it had been years for you. The burn was incredible, in such a pleasurable way that you should've felt ashamed to enjoy. You tried to moan, but nothing came out aside from a strained breath. 

“Ain't nothin' gonna make me feel rubber instead’a this.” He grunted. He rolled his hips forward and finally pulled his hand off your chest to roll the dress up and over your body. 

“F-Fuck.” His whimper was strangled in his throat. Being completely naked under someone who was fully dressed had you clenching around him, earning another whimper from said man. 

“Should feel ‘shamed, keepin' all this from me.” 

You didn't. Not one bit. 

“But I know ya'aint.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily stunned by his apparent mind reading abilities. He jerked his hips forward and your face fell slack, your jaw dropping and your eyelids falling shut. 

His thrusts were harsh, but far too slow for you to get anywhere. You grabbed his shirt and used it to pull him down, desperate for more stimulation. 

Daryl happily obliged. His breath was hot on your ear before he took the lobe between his lips, sucking and licking the flesh. You gasped as he bit down on it, and you could sense the smirk on his lips. 

“Daryl?” You breathed, the name breaking on your tongue with another thrust. 

“Jesus.” He groaned, thoroughly annoyed. He released your ear and pulled back to look at you, frustration evident on his face. “What?”

“Thought I was gonna regret it.”

Your words had his upper lip twitching and his eyes widening ever so slightly. 

“Yeah?” He huffed. “S'gonna be like that?”

He rose from your chest, shifting until he was sitting on his boots. His hands grabbed onto your hips and yanked you down on his dick, forcing a cry from your dry throat. It took him a few seconds to position himself, leaning back just a bit, his grip on your hips tight, and then he started fucking you in a ruthless pace. 

It wasn't what you were expecting. Your mouth dropped into a long gape and your eyes shot open as he pounded his pelvis against yours, driving his dick so deep it reached places your fingers never had. 

Each thrust had a gasp burning in your lungs, and those gasps quickly grew to embarrassing moans. Now that you were ashamed of. If you had the ability to stop it you could, but the way he was thrusting into you rendered you utterly unable to control yourself and the sounds you made. 

“Get up.” 

You weren't sure why he even spoke, because he was moving your body by himself before you could process his command. He pulled you to the side of the bed and turned you over on your stomach, bending you over and shoving his dick back inside you so fast you shrieked. 

Your feet flew up behind you, smacking against the back of his thighs. If you could've seen it you would've laughed. 

The new angle was paralyzing. His dick was no longer tilted against the spot under your stomach, the spot that had you a drooling mess seconds ago. Now it smashed against a deeper part of you, a part that had you groaning with each frustration fueled thrust. 

“Fuck.” Daryl groaned, his pace slowing to give momentary reprieve. He wasn't as young as you, and even though he was always out there doing a hundred times more labor intensive activity, he needed a second to catch his breath. 

There was still an itch yet to be scratched. While he regained his bearings you fought to think of a way to say it without actually saying ‘i want you to hurt me and fuck me till I cry’. You'd already humiliated yourself enough. 

When he began picking up the pace again, you reached for the hand beside your head and bit down on his knuckles. Not gently, either. You bit down so hard he could've ripped a tooth out with the way he yanked his hand away.

“The fuck?” His voice was barely below a shout. “Ya’ crazy bitch!” 

There was no retaliation besides a particularly forceful thrust, to your irritation. 

“You baby.” You managed to grunt out. “Barely bit you.” 

“Barley bi-” he scoffed, looking down at the hand he now had splayed across your lower back. There were deep pink imprints from your teeth over his index finger knuckle, and the skin around it turned a bright red. 

You felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from its grip on the bed sheets. Your heart hammered quicker than his thrusts when his breath tickled your skin, and then he bit you. In the same spot you bit him.

It wasn't nearly as hard as you bit him, but you still whimpered at the ache. 

“Point stands.” 

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing. His jaw set and he dropped your wrist. 

The smug smirk you'd been keeping to yourself fell when your hair was suddenly twisted in the fist of his right hand. With just that leverage alone he pulled your upper body up, and his left arm snaked around your torso to keep you flush against his chest. 

He yanked your head to the side. You gasped. 

“This what ya’ wanted, huh sweetheart?” He breathed against your ear and drew back until his dick nearly slipped out before slamming back in.  

“Mmm-oh god yes.” You blurted out between moans. 

“Jus' had to ask.” He managed a chuckle. 

“More.” 

He furrowed his brows, but kept up the slow and deep pace. He couldn't imagine what else he could give you. He was fucking you hard enough to bruise, he was pulling your hair, what, did you want him to start beating you? 

He dipped his head down to bite your shoulder, holding back just enough so that he wouldn't give you an actual wound. 

You have to consider that biting someone with enough force to actually break the skin takes a lot. Skin isn't like the flesh of a fruit. It's tough, and would require chewing to break through. So for him to stop right before that point meant he was biting you so hard you got blood blisters, and the pain was all you could focus on. 

Your wail of genuine pain had him pulling back like he'd been shocked. His thrusts slowed, and through ragged breaths he spoke, “Shit, m'sorry. M'so sorry.” 

“No.” You gasped. Your shoulder felt like it was on fire, and your walls cleaned around him in response. “So good. Feels so good.”

Daryl let out a huff in relief. “Ya’ weird as shit, yanno that?” 

“Mhmm.” You groaned, pressing your ass back tightly against him. “More.” 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed you back down on your stomach. He had to work himself up to it, the idea intimidating. Once his thrusts were back to their former sharp pace he raised a hand in the air. 

You tilted your head to the side so your cheek was pressed against the blanket. When you saw his right hand held up, your heart leapt. You never nodded so quickly. 

Daryl ground his teeth together, glancing down at your ass, your face, and back to your ass again before smacking his hand against it. 

It was barely a love tap. 

You groaned, wiggling your hips and earning a moan from him in response to the feeling on his dick. 

He took the hint and gave another smack, harder, but still not giving that burn or satisfying ‘smack’ sound you wanted.

“Daryl, please.” You whimpered. “Hurt me. I'm not made of glass.” 

You barely got the last word out before he slapped you. Open handed, fingers spread and slightly curved to mold perfectly against your asscheek. You yelped and instinctively tried scooting up the bed, held back by his left hand on your hip. 

It clicked in his head then. No wonder people liked spanking so much. His palm tingled and he could see a faint handprint start to color your skin. And the way you reacted, that sound you made, your body trying to get away from him, it made his dick twitch. 

“Fuck!” You cried out after another hard slap. The pain fully distracted you from the ache in your shoulder, white hot pain spreading across your ass and up your spine. 

“Such a baby.” He meant it to sound patronizing, but he was still too amazed by the new turn on he'd discovered, and the words came out breathless. 

Your whimper bled into another cry as he spanked you again. 

And again. 

Again, again, until you were on the verge of tears, sobs bubbling from your wet lips as you tried to squirm away from him. 

As if you actually wanted to. Which you clearly didn't. You were practically gushing around his dick. 

He rubbed his palm over the deep red skin, barely soothing the blinding burn he'd left behind. “Goddamn.” 

“M'gonna cum.” You were literally drooling. 

He snapped his attention away from your ass and back to you. “Whaddya want, huh?” He quickened his pace once again, jolting forward to press his body against your back. You whimpered at the way he moved, his dick pushing deeper inside you. 

“More, please,” you stuttered, trying desperately to work your hand under your body, which proved to be difficult due to his weight on top of you. 

Daryl noticed and lifted your hips with his hands. He shoved your eager arm out of the way and rubbed your clit with his own fingers, fast and deep in a way he assumed you'd like. 

You moaned under him, arching your back, feeling him slip in further. It was as if he grew another inch every five minutes. Or you grew another inch deeper, and he was staying the same. Either way he was deeper, and it felt immaculate. 

The rise to your climax was slow, but powerful. You were fully prepared to gently tip over the edge and slide down in bliss. 

That was before he slapped your pussy. Then you fell down gasping. 

Daryl held onto your body like you were a wild mustang, trashing and twisting under him in ecstasy. He withdrew his hand and grabbed your hips again, resuming his brutal pace, clamping his teeth down on the back of your neck to keep your bodies anchored together. 

It took a while for you to come down from your high. When you did it was violent, the pure bliss smashed away by burning overstimulation. 

“Fu-uck!” You heaved in deep breaths. “Daryl s’too much, can't, wait!”

“Ever since that night ya’ came in my tent, blue ballin’ me like that,” he growled against your neck, “-been dreamin’ ‘bout havin ya’ like this. Fallin’ apart. Face full’a tears. Ain't stoppin now.” 

He wasn't bluffing. He didn't stop. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, ramming into your abused cunt, only slowing to shift in positions so you were on your back. 

The air felt amazing against your chest. Daryl ripped that feeling away with gnashing teeth, biting your hard nipples and alternating between sucking and pinching.

The house had to be surrounded by walkers by now. There was no way it wasn't, you were crying and moaning like you were getting paid for it. 

“Oh, god.” You wailed as another orgasm built up quicker than ever inside you. “Oh please, fuck, god!”

A jolt of pleasure shot through your core when Daryl's hands wrapped around your throat. 

Now, Daryl was no stranger to strangling someone. He'd choked plenty of people out before.

In fights.

He was unaware there was a different type of choking for pleasure. Instead of squeezing the sides of your throat with his thumb and fingers, he wrapped both hands around your neck and fucking strangled you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut so tight they ached as you came. Your orgasm had started off blinding, overwhelming every inch of your body, but Daryl's crushing grip soon muted the tail end of your climax and filled your ears with a deafening ringing. 

Daryl pulled his teeth off your nipple and panted against your ear. “Lemme cum inside ya’, sweetheart.”

You could barely process what he'd said. You forced your eyes open against the pressure induced burn, trying to find his face, only to see the side of his head. 

“Can't pull out.” He growled and released some of the pressure around your throat. Oxygen and blood flooded your head, leaving you dizzy and with black around the edges of your vision. 

“Can't, m'sorry. Oh, huh-  fuck!” His voice was strained as every muscle in his body tensed up. His hips surged forward, stuffing his dick balls deep to coat the end of your walls in his cum. “Mmm-fuck s’good. So good. Ohhh, Hah-” 

He choked on his moan. He moved his head, replacing his hands around your neck with his mouth, kissing and biting at the tender skin as he spurted ropes of hot cum inside you. 

Your body broiled under his crushing form. Your thighs relaxed from their clamped position, falling off his waist and dropping to the bed beneath you. Your lungs ached and your throat was raw, but your pussy buzzed so intently it felt like you had a vibrator pressed against it. 

“Oh, god.” The tone was full of dread and you forced yourself to focus on Daryl. 

“What?” You croaked. There was a stabbing pain in your neck from Daryl choking you out like you were a man his size. 

“Yer all fucked up.” He whined. He traced his fingers across your throat. “S’bad. Oh fuck.”

“Calm down.” You sat upright after he pulled back enough for you to do so, his dick dragging out against your trembling walls in the process and making you hiss.

“It's okay. I'll just tell em a walker got the jump on me. We've all seen them grab throats. It's fine.” You pressed a kiss to his worried lips. 

“Gonna tell em a walker did that too?” He pointed an exhausted finger at the bite mark on your shoulder, which was now in the early stages of a deep bruise, not to mention the blood blister in the shape of his teeth.

You laughed softly. “Fuck no. I'll just skip the tank tops for a week or two.”

That seemed to settle him enough and he nodded, moving to lay on his back. 

“That was amazing.” You broke the long silence. “Seriously. You're the first man to ever… you know.”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at you. “Huh? Y’never…?”

“No! I mean…” you sighed. “Never had a man make me come.”

Now he was at full attention, sitting upright and leaning back on his palms. “Nah, no shit.”

“I'm serious.”

He let out a light scoff, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jesus.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched you climb off the bed to grab your thrown panties. “Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder as you stepped into them. “Really? You never…?”

He nodded, going back to biting his cheek. 

“How'd you last so fucking long?”

A cocky grin crept across his lips at the compliment behind your words. He was worried he didn't last long enough. And you just asked him how he held on so long.

“Jerked off like, ten fuckin’ times today.” 

That meant he knew he was going to fuck you today. Heat spread through your core again, despite how worn out you were. You smiled and climbed back on the bed to smother him with kisses. 

“You're so fucking hot.” You mumbled against his lips, which were moving weakly against your own. 

“Says the bitch that wouldn't fuck me.” He chuckled. 

“Just wanted you to make the decision for me. It's a lot hotter that way.” You hummed, pulling your swollen lips away from his. “It worked.” 

“Psh.” He rolled his eyes and began stuffing his soft cock back in his jeans. “Put yer clothes on. Place is probably crawlin' with walkers. Le’s get the hell outta dodge before anymore show up.”

Now that Daryl was in on your little game, you couldn't wait to play again. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[tourturestarradio]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘

“𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: Wolverine x kind reader x Deadpool 

Warnings: suggestive, sexual jokes, spoilers (kinda? after the time stuff) injuries, 

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You couldn’t remember the last time you talked with Wade, it’d been a while. Longer than normal. He’d come into your shop asking for sweets all the time it was nice talking to him he was pretty funny.

You met him after he basically saved you from a creep trying to attack you. After that he’d visit you at work getting a discount for saving you, you grown to like him a lot but it took a while for you to get out of your comfort zone.

With his very vulgar language, very….out there personality you grew close with him, Wade telling his friends about you any chance he got which lead to him introducing you to his friends making you insanely nervous.

The interaction was odd for them not you. There stared at you “…you’re Y/n?” A teenager with a long name asked, you nodded happily a friendly smile on your face. They glanced at you then at Wade then back at you “…if you were forced to be here blink twice” 

You chuckled nervously but they seemed to be dead serious “I’m here on my own will, I promise” you clarified, Wade wrapped his arms around your shoulder “you think I forced her to be my friend! You hurt me” you glanced at him “will you kinda did-“ “alright let’s go meet Colossus!” He dragged you away from the moody teenager to continue to interact with his friends.

You thought back on the memory pouting missing your friend. You finished cleaning up your cafe about to leave when there was knock at the glass door, turning to look at it you saw a person standing their it looked like an older man.

You placed your bag down you grabbed your “baby knife” Wade gifted you, you didn’t like  violence but after what happened last time you stayed out too late  you slid it up your sleeve slowly unlocking and opening the door “hello do you need some help?” You asked.

The older man stumbled nodding “f-food please…” he almost fell onto you but you caught him “uh…um…okay just…just sit down please” you hummed carefully helping him sit down. 

You went to get treats that no one had bought, usually you’d give that to Wade but he wasn’t here so you’d give it to the old man. 

You turned to hand him the bag but he was standing up straight “um are you alright….sir?” Gripping onto the knife tighter you stepped closer to him, he chuckled lowly “to nice for your own good.” Before you knew it he jumped towards you. 

You screamed in surprise pulling out your knife you stabbed him “ahh you bitch!” He fell back clutching him chest “I-I’m sorry!” You didn’t know what to do you felt bad for stabbing him but he was going to attack you.

He pulled the knife out standing up, bad choice you gulped knowing the outcome of this situation.

That night you went home with plenty of injuries and no money. Great. You had unlocked your front door going inside you flicked on the light “surprise! Welcome home honey bun-“ he froze in his spot.

He’d waited to surprise you when you got home. He thought you’d be in-static to see he was home from his thrilling mission and was going to tell you all about it but he was shocked to see you with a busted lip, black eye and bruises covering your face and arms. 

“Oh my god what fuck!” He hurried up to you grabbing your shoulders “Wade nice to see you” you greeted, he was panicked but didn’t want to show it “how exactly can you see me? Looks like someone had a run in with Chris Brown, what happened” he joked.

You let out a dry chuckle “some jerk…I thought he needed…I thought he needed help but he was just trying to rob me. And he took my baby knife” Wade gasped “not the baby knife!” 

As you went to get in the shower Wade clenched his fists “Honey bun I’ll be right back to tell you all about my adventure and the new friends I made!” He shouted into the bathroom earning a “alright” from you. 

Leaving your house he went into his apartment slamming open his door gaining a odd look from the rest of the group. 

Logan raised a brow “what’s your deal?” Wade grabbed his swords and guns “some tiny dick loser attacked my friend” Logan stared at him with his usual annoyed face “so?” Wade stopped at the door looking back “so? That girl is one of if not the nicest and hottest person on the planet and some dickwad attacked her!” He turned and left the apartment slamming the door. 

“Who’s he talking about?” He asked Colossus got up “one of his close friends Y/n, she’s very important to him” he stated Logan was just confused but didn’t really care.

After a few hours Wade had returned dropping his weapons down at the floor “handled that, I feel so much better” he hummed, Logan glanced at him “you killed the guy didn’t you?” He asked. Wade smiled “yeah duh if you knew Honey hun like I knew her you’d do the same, well actually!” An idea popped into his head.

“Whatever your thinking. Don’t think it.” Wade laughed “oh come on you’ll love her! Not as much as the reader loves us but still” Logan looked at him confused “what?” “Oh come on peanut!” 

“If I go will you shut the fuck up?” Wade smiled leaving the apartment “no promises!” Logan rolled his eyes and followed. 

Wade knocked on the door “Honey bun! I’m back and I’ve brought a friend!” He continued to knock until the door opened revealing you now patched up and holding a ice pack up to your eye.

“Oh hi Wade, hello Wade’s friend” You smiled politely moving out of the way to let Wade and his friend in “I’m not his friend.” You shut the door “oh well what’s your name? I’m Y/n nice…nice to meet you” you greeted.

He stared down at you, he wasn’t to fond of physical contact and if he was touching someone it was usually stabbing punching slicing. But he grabbed your hand shaking it before letting go quickly “Logan.” He stated, You smiled at him “nice to meet you Logan- wait like Wolverine Logan!” You wanted to scream.

Wade watched as you hurried to your room, “she was a big fan of the X men Wolverine was her favorite you’d be surprised at the amount of edits she and probably the reader has saved on Tik tok” 

Logan looked at Wade confused “you wouldn’t get it, I never had the guts to tell her he died. I mean look at her” you hurried out of your room holding an X men comic “if…if you don’t mind could you sign this…please…” you gulped nervously.

Wade leaned over “come on, look how excited she is, kinda like how I was seeing her naked for the first time” Logan scoffed “shut it. Look I’m not that Wolverine…” he huffed, that look of excitement faded from your face almost made him a little sad.

“Oh…wait I’m confused…” Wade held your shoulders “time to tell you all about my adventure!” He pushed you over to your couch.

After telling you about everything that happened you sat with a frown “so the Wolverine from our world is gone…” Wade nodded “yep but yaknow Hugh jackmen just couldn’t get enough of this roll so now he’s alive again.” 

You glanced at Logan “so you’re still Wolverine…just from a different world…?” He nodded “that’s still so cool!” You stated excitedly, Logan looked at you a little surprised by how enthusiastic you were.

But he knew how this would turn out, he’s not gonna engage. You seemed like a sweet girl but he knows how this goes so he wasn’t going to even try. 

“Yeah I’m not all that great.” He huffed, you lightly nudged him a playful tone “well you still saved the world, and you’re still cool to me” you hummed, Wade’s smile widened “Honey bun” he called out, you looked at him “you got any cookies?” You nodded “sure I’ll go get some.” 

You got up leaving the two “see what did I tell you, she’s amazing!” Logan rolled his eyes “fuck off” he grumbled, Wade laughed “ha! You know I’m right! She’s perfect in literally every way!” Logan huffed crossing his arms. 

You came back holding a plate of cookies Wade pulled you down onto his lap grabbing a cookie shoving it into his mouth. 

You gulped “so um…can I….can I see your claws?” You asked nervously shuffling Wade held you still “no shuffling too much I haven’t got some in a while and the head downstairs misses you” you ignored his comment an stayed focused on Logan.

He held up his hand you lightly touched in between his knuckles feeling his claws under his skin “cool…” you muttered. He wouldn’t tell you but your reactions were somewhat cute. 

He clenched his fist his claws coming out a cheesy grin grew on your face as you hit Wades arm “look, look” a small laugh exiting your mouth “trust me babe I’ve seen them and felt them inside me multiple times” Logan glared at him “don’t word it like that.” 

Wade shoved another cookie in his mouth “don’t deny what we had!” You touched his blades “cool” he retracted them “well at least I can die happy” you joked.

Wade wrapped his arms around you squeezing you tightly “I won’t let that happen!” 

Logan looked at you and how nice you were, maybe you weren’t so bad after all…

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: I fucking loved Deadpool 3!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHH

[inkandapex]

In the Slopes

Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter Summary: Lando and Y/N have always been inseparable, but during a snowy getaway with friends, their usual dynamic starts to shift. Unspoken feelings begin to resurface.

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: some swearing angst & fluff

Winter isn’t exactly Y/N’s favourite season; she’d much rather be lounging under the warm sun, with her feet in the water and sand tangled in her hair. But alas, Quadrant's annual team-building getaway was set in the snowy slopes of Whistler.

"What could you possibly need this for?" Lando pauses his game and turns in his seat as he hears Max hysterically laughing at the whistle he found in Y/N's luggage.

"Give me that! Why are you two even here? Don't you have to pack your own stuff or something" Y/N whines and snatches the whistle from Max, tossing it across her bedroom.

"Max, be nice. It took a lot of grovelling to get her to agree to be in the video, let alone come with us," Lando laughs, turning back around to focus on his game.

"You better not be messing with my sims Lando, I spent hours building that house from scratch" Y/N sighs as she sits on the floor with a pile of clothes in her arms

"I don't know what you're so worried about Y/N, I'm not the best at skiing either. You'll pick it up quick" Max says as he sits on the floor helping her fold the clothes

"Yeah, remember you did so well when we did that karting video. You even ended up liking it more than you thought you would"

"Alright enough pep talk, i'm not used to you muppets acting so nice. Pizza's here. Norris get your ass off my computer and help me fit all of these into my bag" Y/N stands up as she receives a notification on her phone

Lando sits across from Max as Y/N leaves the room. Max watches his friend attempt to tidily fold a shirt before he lets off a scoff.

"What?"

"Please tell me you're finally telling her this week, I can't keep a secret any longer. P is starting to notice"

"Keep you voice down! And what do you mean P's starting to notice" Lando hisses, leaning back to peek out the door checking if Y/n was anywhere within earshot

"Mate, I get so nervous when she asks about you two! The other day, she asked if you two were together, and I just got all weird and defensive, trying to explain why you'd be hanging out together, when she was clearly just asking cause you both played padel that morning and she needed to ask Y/n about a dress" Max explains, almost out of breath, running his hand across his hair

"You're acting like it's so easy for me. Oh, thanks for being such a great friend for the decade I’ve known you, Y/N. By the way, I have feelings for you—no, scratch that—I’m in love with you." Lando chucks the shirt at Max, rolling his eyes as he lies back on the floor.

"That works"

"Shut up.... I just— its y/n, you know? I fuck this up, everything changes. Its not just about me and her"

"Look, I don’t want to get in your head, but I honestly think she might feel the same way. She shows up to races, she’s there for you whenever you need her, shit your family loves her. You're overthinking this, tell her how you feel. That's a good start"

Lando sits up, propping himself on his elbows, a defeated look crossing his face. "Exactly, she might feel the same way... if she doesn’t, it’s gonna get weird. I can't ruin our friendship like that"

"I can meddle"

"No! No meddling! This ski trip is for the team. When I find the courage to tell her, i will"

"More like when you find your balls..."

"Foods here! Come out here, no eating in my bedroom!" Lando kicks Max's leg just in time for Y/N to announce her return, pizza boxes in hand.

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

After a long day of skiing and filming, the group made their way back to the cabin just before sunset, just enough time to unwind before dinner. Y/N sank into the plush sofa by the crackling fireplace, the warmth from the flames making her sigh in relief. Wrapped up in a thick, soft blanket, she leaned back, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone.

"Wanna grab a little snack before dinner? I saw this cute cafe near by" Pietra plops down beside her, laying her head on her lap

Y/N lets out a groan, putting her phone away "P, please i'm so sore. I honestly think you'd have to drag me by my feet for dinner tonight"

"Oh but you did great today. You should've seen Max his first time on the slopes, it was almost sad." P sits up to give y/n some relief

"Where is he anyways? Go ask him to go to the cafe with you- bring me back a muffin while you're at it"

"He’s with his boyfriend, going over clips from today…" Pietra pauses, crossing her legs and narrowing her eyes at Y/N, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Speaking of my boyfriend’s boyfriend—what’s going on between you and Lando?" She leans forward slightly, her gaze sharp and accusing, as if she’s piecing something together.

This makes y/n frown, confusion spreading across her face "Me and Lando? What do you mean?"

"Come on, Y/N," Pietra says with a playful grin, leaning in as she pokes Y/N’s arm. "Ever since the season ended, you two have been hanging out way more. And didn’t you spend Christmas with his family? Oh, and let’s not forget today! On the slopes, he was literally stuck by your side the entire time—he’s usually off showing off or racing with the guys." She wiggles her eyebrows, clearly enjoying the tease, her gaze never leaving Y/N as if waiting for some kind of confession.

Y/N laughs, giving Pietra a gentle shove. "Did you hit your head out there?" she teases.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Lando and I hang out all the time, it’s just that we’ve had more time recently. Plus, it’s not the first time I’ve spent Christmas with the Norris family." She shrugs casually, then continues, her tone softening slightly as she recalls the day. "And as for today, well, it was my first time skiing, and Lando insisted I join the trip to begin with. I guess he just wanted to make sure someone was there to keep me from falling on my face the whole time." She laughs again, shaking her head, clearly not fazed by the teasing, but her explanation still carries a hint of warmth.

"Huh... I could've sworn you were hiding something. I mean even Max acts all weird whenever I bring the two of you up"

"Max? What? About Lando and I?"

"Yeah, he gets all defensive whenever I bring up the two of you," Pietra says with a shrug, her eyes narrowing playfully. "I thought you two finally sucked it up and acted on whatever’s going on between you."

"Whatever's going on?"

"Come on y/n. You clearly have feelings for Lando. You may lie to everyone else but I see through you" Pietra laughs

"I’m— no. Me? Feelings for Lando?" Y/N stutters, her voice faltering as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, suddenly feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. She tugs at the edge of her blanket, avoiding Pietra's gaze.

She forces a nervous laugh, but it sounds hollow, the tension in the room thickening. "Yeah, right. No— no, that’s not…" Her sentence fizzles out, her mind racing, but she can’t quite find the right words.

Pietra's jaw drops, her eyes widening in surprise before a sly grin slowly spreads across her face. "Oh my gosh..." she murmurs, her voice rising with the realization. "I was just messing with you, but—" She leans in closer, her smile growing wider as she watches Y/N squirm. "You do have feelings for him!"

Y/N's heart skips a beat, the words hitting her harder than expected. Was it that obvious? Did everyone see it? The weight of it all settles heavily on her, her stomach flipping in a way that both unsettles and excites her. "No, I—" she starts, but her voice is barely a whisper, unsure of what to say next.

"Y/N!" Pietra exclaims, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and excitement. "He obviously feels the same way. Why else would Max be acting like that whenever I ask about you two?"

Y/N's stomach tightens, a wave of nervous energy making her insides churn. Could it be? Was it really possible that Lando felt the same way about her? Her heart skips at the thought, but then the doubts creep in, drowning out any sense of hope. No, he couldn’t possibly... Lando was Lando, the guy who was always surrounded by people, always the center of attention, effortlessly charming everyone around him. And she... she was just Y/N. Just a friend.

He only sees me as a friend. The words loop in her mind. Nothing more than that. They’d always been friends, nothing had ever suggested anything different, right? She feels a strange tightness in her throat, as if even acknowledging the possibility of something more would shatter the delicate balance they’d always had.

"Oh, honey, I’m sorry," Pietra says softly, her tone shifting as she notices the distant look in Y/N's eyes.

"I didn’t mean to make it weird," she adds, her voice softening. "But you know, everyone’s been kind of... wondering." Her eyes meet Y/N’s, a mix of empathy and understanding in them, as if offering a lifeline in the middle of the uncertainty.

Y/N lets out a laugh, shaking her head as she looks at Pietra. "You're just saying that to make the voices go away," she teases, trying to deflect, though her tone carries an edge of nervousness.

Pietra grins, unfazed. "No, seriously! A few of the newer people on the team genuinely thought you two were a thing when they first joined Quadrant." She leans back, raising an eyebrow as she watches Y/N's reaction, knowing full well that the thought might have crossed her mind too. The comment lingers, like an unspoken truth that makes the room feel a little smaller.

The sound of footsteps coming from the stairs behind them makes both Y/N and Pietra turn their heads in sync.

"You're not getting ready yet?" Max says, his voice teasing but with a hint of impatience. "Our reservation's in an hour, and we're starving. We can't be late."

He walks down the stairs with Lando trailing just behind him, moving toward the two on the sofa. Max leans down, planting a gentle kiss on Pietra's head as he passes, a small smile tugging at his lips. Lando follows closely, his gaze briefly flickering to Y/N before he glances away, his expression unreadable. The atmosphere shifts again, subtle but charged, as everyone feels the undercurrent of what’s unspoken.

"We might have to drag Y/N by her feet to the restaurant—her words, not mine," Pietra laughs softly, her voice playful as Max sits beside her, pulling her closer for a quick cuddle.

This catches Lando’s attention, and he pushes away from the counter in the kitchen, his footsteps quick and purposeful as he strides across the room toward the couch. He stops just short of them, his eyes narrowing slightly with concern. "Why? What’s wrong? You feeling okay?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine care, though his usual confident swagger seems a little softer.

"No—yeah, I’m okay, just sore, really," Y/N says, her voice a little shaky as she forces a smile at Lando. "I’ll be fine. P, we should get ready."

She stands up quickly, giving Lando a brief but reassuring smile before turning towards the stairs. As Y/N begins to head up, Pietra stands too, shooting Max a knowing look that doesn’t go unnoticed. Max raises an eyebrow, but Pietra simply follows Y/N up the stairs.

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

Dinner went by smoothly, the lively chatter and laughter around the table giving Y/N the perfect distraction from the lingering thoughts she’d been trying to push away. Lando’s presence felt comforting, like a steady anchor, though she couldn’t help but notice the occasional glance he threw her way—just enough to keep the butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but not enough to make her feel overwhelmed. For now, she was content to enjoy the evening, letting the connection with her friends fill the space that her doubts had briefly occupied.

Y/N lies on her bed, the soft glow from her phone casts a faint light across the room, but her mind is still tangled in the conversation earlier. She barely notices the time passing until a soft knock at her door pulls her attention away.

She sits up quickly, smoothing her hair back, and calls out, "Come in."

Lando slips into her room quietly, a bottle of water in his hands. He stands at the foot of the bed "Hey, sorry, were you about to sleep?" he asks, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of concern.

"No, you're good," Y/N replies with a small laugh "Just on my phone... struggling to sleep, honestly." She smiles up at him, her eyes warm as she pats the space beside her. "What's up?"

Lando hesitates for just a moment, he crosses the room and sits down, the familiar weight of his presence settling next to her. He reaches into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a small pill bottle, offering it to her along with the water bottle.

"Painkillers," he says, his tone casual but with an underlying kindness. "Thought you could use some if you want to be able to hit the slopes again tomorrow. We’re doing the sled race, remember?"

Y/N lets out a relieved sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she takes the pill from him, followed by a sip of water. "Thank you," she says, her voice soft. "I can’t believe I forgot to pack some."

Lando waves it off with a small grin. "All good," he says, his eyes meeting hers briefly. "Take one tomorrow before we head out too if you're still hurting."

She nods, feeling the knot in her shoulders start to loosen. The warmth of his presence is more comforting than she expected, and for a moment, the weight of everything else melts away.

"Do you fancy an ice cream?" Lando asks, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face as he nudges Y/N gently with his elbow.

Y/N raises an eyebrow at him, laughter bubbling up in her chest. "Ice cream? It’s almost midnight— and, uhmm... oh right, it's freezing outside," she says, her voice light with amusement. She shakes her head, grinning at his antics, but the playful glint in his eyes makes it clear he’s not giving up on the idea so easily.

Lando shrugs dramatically, the smirk never leaving his face. "Who says you can’t have ice cream in the middle of the night?" he teases, nudging her again as if trying to convince her to join his impromptu late-night mission.

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

The two walk back to the cabin, their laughter echoing in the crisp night air as they reminisce about the day’s adventures. Every so often, their arms gently brush against each other, the shared warmth a quiet comfort between them.

"Aren’t you glad I made you come up here?" Lando says, a playful gleam in his eye. "Next year, you could even try snowboarding" He wiggles his brows at Y/N, his voice teasing as if he’s already picturing her falling all over again.

Y/N groans dramatically, her breath visible in the cold night. "Can't we just go to the beach or somewhere warm that doesn’t require me to fight for my life and fall on my ass every couple of meters?" She stops walking, planting her feet firmly in protest, her face scrunched in exaggerated annoyance.

Lando laughs, his eyes twinkling as he glances at her. "Come on, you big baby," he teases, reaching for her hand and pulling her gently toward the cabin. "Let’s get inside. Your nose is so red."

Y/N huffs but lets him pull her along, the warmth of his hand in hers making her forget the cold. She can’t help but smile, even if she’d never admit how much she enjoyed their little banter.

They stand just outside Y/N's door, Y/N looks up at him with a playful smirk, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. "Thank you for tonight," she says with a hint of warmth in her voice. "Though if I wake up with a cold tomorrow, I’m blaming you and your ice cream escapade."

Lando chuckles, his eyes softening as he leans against the doorframe, his smile lazy but genuine. "I’ll be sure to nurse you back to health," he says, his voice low and easy, but with an undertone of sincerity. "I’ll be across the hall if you need me."

For a moment, neither of them speaks. Silence hangs in the air, a tension growing, subtle but undeniable. Their eyes meet and linger, flicking back and forth between each other's lips, the space between them feeling smaller with every passing second.

Lando’s breath catches slightly as he notices the way her lips part just a fraction, and Y/N, almost without realizing, shifts a little closer, the energy between them thickening.

Y/N takes a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket as she glances at Lando. “Lando... I— I’ve been thinking about us—” Her voice is quieter than she meant it to be.

Lando’s eyes widen in a split-second of panic, and he quickly cuts her off, almost too quickly. “Us? About us?” His tone is a little too sharp, his expression tight, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Y/N freezes, but then gathers her thoughts, forcing herself to look him in the eye. “Yes, our relationship—” She bites her lip, her heart pounding in her chest as she takes a step forward.

Lando blinks rapidly, trying to process her words. “—our relationship?” His voice cracks slightly, and his gaze shifts to the floor before quickly snapping back to hers.

Y/N nods, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. “Yes, well, no, I mean, our relationship as friends, of course!” She laughs nervously, her voice trailing off, trying to downplay the growing knot in her stomach.

Lando lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah, of course... uhmm, what about it?”

Y/N’s heart sinks a little, but she tries to push through the discomfort. “I just… I don’t know, Lando. I’ve been wondering if maybe we’re both feeling the same thing, you know? About... more than just friendship?” Her voice falters at the end, uncertainty creeping in.

Lando’s face flushes slightly, and he takes a step back, a defensive edge to his tone. “Oh well I mean, yeah we’re good friends, right? Best friends even, you and Max.” He says it quickly, almost too quickly, his words stumbling over themselves as if he's trying to convince himself just as much as her.

The silence that follows feels like an eternity. Y/N looks away, her stomach sinking, the words she was about to say hanging heavy in the air between them. She clears her throat, trying to force a smile, but it feels like it’s made of glass, fragile and thin. “Right,” she says softly, her voice almost too quiet. “I get it.”

Lando stands there for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between relief and regret. He can feel the weight of the situation, but he’s not sure what to say next. He couldn't bring himself to tell her how he really felt. "You... feel that way right? I mean you see me as your best friend?" he says quickly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but stopping short when he realizes how awkward it feels. "Maybe even your bestest friend, even over Max or P" Lando lets out a nervous chuckle in the attempt to ease the uneasiness filling the air.

Y/N nods, her eyes not meeting his. “Yeah, of course. Max isn't even top 3. Hey, I’m gonna head in and get some rest.” y/n attempts to return the banter as she turns slightly, her hand already on the doorknob, her pulse still racing from the conversation.

She pauses at the door, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Goodnight, Lando," she says softly before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Lando stands there for a moment, his hand still lingering in the air, unsure of whether he should follow her or just walk away. After a few moments, he sighs, shaking his head as he walks back toward his own room, the unspoken tension lingering in the silence of the hallway.

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

Lando laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, the thoughts of the conversation with Y/N replaying over and over in his mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling of regret, the missed opportunity to tell her how he really felt. Every time he closed his eyes, her face kept coming back to him, the look in her eyes that made him realize he might have just ruined everything by not saying what he’d wanted to say.

The sun was barely up when Lando found himself standing in the hallway, his heart racing as he made his way to Max and P's room.

"Max, you've got to get up, mate," Lando whispered urgently, his voice low but insistent, shaking Max awake.

Max let out a groan, his eyes barely open as he tried to make out his friend’s figure in the dim light of the room, the sun just starting to peek through the closed curtains. "What? Lando. What time is it?" His voice was thick with sleep.

"It’s... it’s early, I know. But I need to talk. I can’t stop thinking about it, mate. I messed up."

Max rubbed his eyes, finally managing to sit up, his confusion turning into concern. "Wait, what happened?" He yawned and stretched, still groggy but fully aware that Lando was rarely this urgent unless something serious was going on.

Lando ran a hand through his hair, pacing a little as he tried to find the words. "I didn’t tell her how I really feel, Max. And now I’m just stuck. I can’t stop thinking about it. I— I think I might’ve blown it." His voice was strained, frustration seeping through every word.

Max sat up straighter now, fully awake as he processed his friend's words. “Wait you’re talking about Y/N, right?” He rubbed his face, trying to make sense of Lando’s sudden shift in mood.

Lando paused, looking at Max, his face tight with the weight of everything. “She brought it up, she asked about us- our friendship and I just froze. I panicked, Max. I said I think she's my best friend, my closest friend and if you could've seen the look on her face... now I don’t know what to do. It’s messing with me."

"You idiot" a sharp toned voice makes the two look to the other side of the bed, a once sleeping P has now pulled her eye mask off, a dissatisfied look on her face. "She obviously likes you too Lando. You two are just too scared of actually facing how you truly feel. I literally had her confess to me last night before dinner"

Lando blinked in surprise, the realization hitting him harder than he expected. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Max, on the other hand, sat back with an amused expression, taking in the scene unfolding before him.

"Wait—what?" Lando managed after a beat, completely caught off guard.

Max let out a heavy sigh, his tone softening. "Lando, you’ve been dodging it for how long now? What did you expect? That she’d just magically figure it out? You’ve got to be honest with her, mate. If you really feel something for her, you can’t just pretend it’s nothing. You owe her the truth".

Lando nodded, taking in his friend’s words. "Yeah, you're right. I just... don’t want to mess things up more than I already have."

Max shook his head, a knowing look on his face. “You’ve got to take the chance, mate. Just... talk to her. Don’t wait any longer. I can't even begin to think about whats going on in her head right now- you pretty much shut her down”

Lando sat back down on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face in frustration. “I don’t know what to say. What if she doesn't believe me— I don't want her to think i'm playing with her feelings on purpose, it was a genuine lapse of judgement I panicked.”

"Well, that’s the risk, isn’t it?" Max replied, his voice matter-of-fact. "But at least you’ll know for sure. The worst thing you can do is keep holding back. You’re already in deep, mate. Just go for it."

Lando sat silently for a moment, taking in Max’s advice, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety swirling inside him. He knew Max was right, but it didn’t make it any easier. With a long sigh, he stood up from the bed, a new sense of determination in his steps.

“Alright,” Lando said, giving Max a look of appreciation.

Max gave him a reassuring nod. "Just don’t overthink it."

Lando nodded, heading for the door. Before he left, he turned back to P speaking up as she put her eye mask back on. “You know, if it goes horribly wrong, I’m gonna kick your ass for hurting her.”

Max chuckled, leaning back into the pillows. “Yeah, i'd take that as motivation to fix this. Go get her, Lando.”

As Lando walked down the hallway, his mind was set. He couldn’t let another day go by without telling Y/N how he felt. It was now or never.

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

Lando had been pacing around the kitchen for what felt like hours, trying to gather his thoughts. Max and P walk towards him, the nervous energy was starting to crawl back under his skin.

"Have you guys seen—" he started, but P immediately cut him off, her tone firm yet surprisingly quiet.

"What did you do?" she asked, a knowing look in her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I thought you left our room this morning ready to fix things between the two of you."

Lando's mouth went dry, his words caught in his throat. He shifted from foot to foot, suddenly feeling like he was fifteen again and in trouble with his parents. "I tried, I peeked in her room and she was sleeping and I felt bad i didn't want to wake her. I came back a few hours later she wasn't in her room" His voice was a little shaky, and his hands fumbled with the sleeve of his jacket as he tried to avoid their eyes.

P raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "So you didn’t do it? That's why she won't leave her room" crossing her arms even tighter, clearly not buying his half-hearted excuse. "You’re seriously going to stand there and tell me you didn’t even try again?"

Lando swallowed hard, the weight of the situation settling in. "I... I didn't know she was back. I don't even know where she went this morning— wait she won't leave her room?"

"She said she's feeling sick and that she caught a cold but she's clearly been crying. Lando she won't even tell me about what happened last night, she's hurting"

Max, who had been listening quietly. "Mate, you’re a mess," he said, sitting down on the counter with his arms crossed, his tone matter-of-fact. "You’ve been overthinking this for months now. It’s honestly exhausting. Now you've managed to drag her into this mess."

Lando exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration clear.

Max gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "Mate, you’re already screwing it up by not talking to her. Go up there and fix it"

P stepped forward, her voice a little gentler now, but still firm. "Just go talk to her. Tell her exactly how you feel. You’ll either get your answer, or you won’t. But you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s going on."

With a deep breath, he nodded. "I’ll go talk to her. Try to occupy the rest of the team while we're gone" He straightened up, trying to shake off the nervousness that had settled in his stomach like a knot.

Max smiled, though there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Don't worry, we'll figure something out. And Lando?" he called as he started to head for the door.

"Yeah?" he turned back, his mind already racing with what to say to her.

"Don’t come back until you’ve told her. And if you screw it up, you’re buying us dinner for a week" Max said with a wink.

Lando shot him a look, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "I’ll keep that in mind," he muttered, and with one final deep breath, he turned to head toward Y/N’s room.

This time, there was no turning back.

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

Another knock echoes through the room, causing Y/N to stir in her blanket cocoon. She sniffles and clears her throat, trying to hide the evidence of a long night’s worth of tears.

"P, I told you I’ll be fine. I don’t want anyone catching my cold. You guys go have fun," she calls out, her voice thick with exhaustion.

"It’s me," Lando’s voice filters through the door, catching Y/N off guard. She sits up quickly, her heart racing—what on earth could he want now?

Y/N hurriedly wipes at her face, but the mirror doesn’t lie. Her eyes are swollen, her cheeks streaked with dried tears, and her nose is a fiery red. She exhales in defeat.

With a soft groan, she cracks the door open "I already told Max and P I won’t be joining you guys," she says quietly, her voice heavy with guilt. "I’m really sorry, Lando. You should go... Everyone else is probably waiting."

Lando’s gaze softens, his brow furrowing as he steps closer, his tone gentle but knowing. "You’re upset about last night."

"I don’t know why I said what I said, but that’s not how I really feel," Lando insists, his voice laced with frustration, but the sight of the frown etched on Y/N’s face only deepens his anxiety.

Y/N’s gaze drops to the floor, her voice barely above a whisper, soft and tinged with hurt. "She told you, didn’t she?" The words feel like a weight she can’t shake off. She never imagined P would share something so personal, and now, she feels more exposed than ever.

Lando hesitates, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, well… technically, she overheard me talking to Max about last night and—"

"You told Max about last night?" Y/N interrupts. She lifts her gaze, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What, me trying to confess my feelings for you and you immediately dismissing it wasn’t embarrassing enough? You had to go tell Max?"

“Y/N, no! That’s not what I—" Lando stammers. He takes a breath, gathering his courage. "I like you. I’ve liked you for months now. Max was the only person I’ve told.” The confession spills out before he can stop it, and for the first time, a sense of relief washes over him.

Y/N’s expression falters, a deep frown settling on her face as she tries to process his words. "Don't do that... please," she says softly, almost pleading. Her voice cracks slightly as she shakes her head. "You don’t have to lie to make me feel better about this." She struggles to fully comprehend what he’s just said.

"But I'm not lying!" Lando insists, his voice filled with urgency. His hands shake as he tries to convey the truth, the weight of his feelings finally spilling out. "For months, I’ve been debating whether or not to act on it. I didn’t know if you felt the same way... I didn’t know what I’d do if you didn’t." He reaches out, his hand trembling as he gently tries to take hers, hoping for a sign that she might believe him.

Y/N is still caught in the confusion of it all, but as his hand brushes against hers, something settles in her chest. The warmth of his touch brings a surprising sense of comfort, and she swallows back the confusion that’s been choking her. "But... last night?" she asks quietly, her voice shaky.

Lando’s eyes soften, and he looks down, clearly conflicted. "I panicked," he admits, his words coming out in a rush. "You bringing up how we might feel about each other was the last thing on my mind. Fuck, I didn’t even think it was possible. All the scenarios I made in my head were about how I’d finally tell you... how much I wanted to be with you." He looks up at her then, vulnerable and raw, his expression filled with regret. "I was just so scared you wouldn’t feel the same."

Y/N takes a deep breath, her chest tight with emotion. She finally meets Lando's gaze, and the moment their eyes lock, it’s as if time slows. The words that have been tangled in her mind for so long finally slip free, and she whispers, "I do... feel the same way."

A small, almost hesitant smile begins to form on Lando’s face. It’s the kind of smile that tells her he’s been holding his breath, waiting for this moment, unsure if he’d ever hear the words he desperately needed to hear. His eyes soften as he takes a step closer, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s falling into place.

Lando’s hands gently cup her face, his touch tender and careful, as if she’s something precious he’s afraid of breaking. His thumbs lightly brush against her cheeks before he reaches up to tuck a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. He lets his fingers linger there for a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch, before his hand gently rests on the side of her neck.

There’s a quiet intensity in the air now, a shared understanding that neither of them wants to break.

Lando’s smile widens ever so slightly, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone in a way that sends a warm shiver down her spine. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that," he says softly, his voice still tinged with disbelief, as though he can’t quite believe this is happening.

Lando leans in, his forehead gently resting against hers, as if allowing the moment to sink in. There’s no rush, no need to fill the space with words anymore. All that’s left is the feeling between them—a feeling that says more than words ever could.

Lando’s breath catches as he hovers just inches from her face, his gaze flickering between her eyes and her lips. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmurs, “I’m going to kiss you now.” his breath warm against her skin.

Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smirk, her eyes glinting with a mix of playfulness and something deeper. “About time,” she teases, her voice light, but there's a knowing edge to it. “For an F1 driver, you're quite slow.”

Lando’s eyes flash with amusement, a soft laugh escaping him as he shakes his head. “You’re lucky I really like you,” he responds, his voice warm with affection and the lingering hint of a smile. Before she can say another word, he closes the gap between them, his lips brushing gently against hers.

The kiss is slow at first, a gentle exploration, as if both of them are savouring the moment that’s been so long in the making. Lando’s hand moves to the back of her neck, pulling her a little closer as the kiss deepens, a surge of relief and longing finally being released between them. For all the uncertainty, the teasing, the games—they’re here now, and everything else fades away.

[thesecondhandwoman]

NEW HAIRCUT

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend, Sevika, decided that it was time for a new appearance, a new her. But, she may have messed up more than intended, resulting in a sweet moment of you being there to help her.

“God, what did you do to your hair, Sevy?” you asked as you walked into the bathroom, intending to check on your girlfriend after her being hidden in the room for hours, only to be met with a hairy mess on the bathroom tile and Sevika holding scissors in her hand, now staring at you like a deer and headlights.

The scissors in her hand were midway cutting another chunk of her hair when they stopped as you interrupted her with…whatever this was.

It seemed like an attempt at a new haircut, but turned out to look like a child who had chosen not to listen to their mother’s warning about not using the scissors for unneeded reasons such as chopping their hair off and suddenly looking like a porcupine, hair up and down, long and short.

“I–” The words for a possible excuse got caught in her throat as she stared at you, slowly lowering the scissors down onto the counter. She caught a glimpse of the cut off hair in the process, staring at her feet momentarily, which made her look like a guilty or even lost puppy before looking back at you. “--I thought it was time for a new look, maybe.”

You stared at her, a tad bit surprised at the fact she wanted to cut her hair. Afterall, she had been growing it out for a long time, but then again, a lot has gone on since then. For example, Silco dropped flat off the planet after the incident with Jinx, Sevika had been taking control of Zaun because of Silco’s absence and the repercussions it had brought, and she had pretty much become a second parent with you now that you both had to watch after Jinx and Isha, the little kid that Jinx found only a few weeks ago (both complete troublemakers, but found family).

“But I am kind of shitty at this type of stuff.” She grumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts as she glanced up at the mirror and grimaced at her poor job in a personal haircut, the strands cut at different lengths and angles.

It could all be summed up to be classified as a mess, but even that may have been an understatement at the moment because of what Sevika did, or at least tried to do.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, a smile creeping on your face as you agreed with her statement. Still, you couldn’t help but also find her attempt adorable, the way she looked like a disheveled messwith that fussy pout on her face, no longer hidden when she looked up at the mirror. But then again, you couldn't blame her for such an expression.

All you could really do was agree with the fact that maybe it was time for a new look, and as her girlfriend, you would be there to help her with it, even if it seemed a bit impossible from this angle. But, it was worth taking a shot at for her.

“Alright, hand me the scissors and hair clippers.” you said with a hum of thought as you walked over to her, inspecting her hair until an image came up to possibly fix this mess on her head and please sevika at the same time with the new look it was going to have.

Sevika arched a brow, confusion written on her face when she saw that specific glint in your eyes, one both imaginative but just as dangerous. But she didn’t question out loud as she carefully handed you the scissors, followed by the hair clipper after she got it out of the bag on the side of the bathroom counter. While doing it, she looked at you from the mirror, slight hesitation in her eyes, but it didnt seem directed toward you, and it usually never was you. So, it had to be somewhat linked with the idea of a new look, maybe even the slight hint of a noticeable identity crisis behind it.

Being able to notice this, you immediately went to reassure her by placing a kiss on her temple and saying, “It will look great on you, baby…”

Her doubtful expression slowly disappeared as she took in your reassurance, a hum escaping her lips as your lips met her temple, a soft smile growing on her lips. “Mm, whatever you say, doll.”

You smiled some more and waited until she was fully coaxed before plugging in the clippers and pushing the button upwards, feeling the way it vibrated against your right hand as the cold metal of the scissors brushed against your left.

As you began to finally cut her hair, the room was filled with the sound of the clippers buzzing against her black locks and the scissors lightly snipping at the remaining ends to clean it up a bit. It only continued for a bit longer until it fell quiet again, finishing up with the clank of both objects being set down on the counter and the sound of you shuffling through the drawers to grab the stored mirror.

“And done!” You announced with a smile, looking at Sevika through the main mirror, waiting for her reaction to her new, fixed-up haircut. You made sure to position the smaller mirror in the process, angling it just enough to see the back of her head where the slight undercut was beneath.

Removing her hands from her eyes (a request you made part way through cutting her hair), Sevika glanced up at the mirror, looking at her improved haircut for the first time. Her expression almost softened immediately, a glint appearing in her eyes as she absorbed her new appearance, taking in the way her hair was much shorter, the strands looking cleaned up, and the overall cut complimenting her features.

All of it caused her a smile to grow on her face, a breathless chuckle leaving her lips as she finally said: “It’s amazing, doll..”

Your smile grew at her reaction, one you wanted so much that your heart warmed with happiness as you hugged her from behind, head resting on the back of her shoulder.

“I told you that it would look great on you.” You pointed out again, beaming at her from the mirror view.

Her smile speaded across her face at your repeated reassurance, now believing it fully as she turned around to look at you. She took your cheek into her hand and leaned forward, gently kissing your bottom lip, allowing you to feel how real her smile was versus just seeing it.

“Thank you, love.” She mumble against your lips, looking down at you with a much relaxed expression.

“Anytime, baby.” You replied before kissing her again, wrapping your arms around her neck gently tangling your fingers into her shorter hair. “Anything to help you out..”

[chlix]

superbloom

bf! chan x fem! reader: you almost ruin your own proposal

pairing: chan x reader

genre: fluff!

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: public proposals, y/n is a bit of a mess but its ok

a/n: this is a request from @taevhs who requested reader accidentally saying no to her own proposal out of shock and stressing chan tf out (ask is linked HERE). i am SO sorry this took so long to get to 😭😭😭 i hope it was at least semi-worth the wait

The thing is: you should’ve seen it coming.

Chan is a lot of things, but he’s not subtle. Especially when he gets really into something. He’s good at disguising the planning, at worrying in private and then clearing his face when he sees you, but you know him too well. You can sense the vibe even without him saying anything.

And anyway, you’d talked about marriage before. You’d thought about wedding planning and what time of year would be best, who would you invite. You inquired about a marriage license. You planned on getting a better apartment together. You were engaged in everything but name. So really, the proposal was imminent. It was just a matter of waiting for all his plans to come to fruition. So, you played dumb when he started paying special attention to your hands and the rings you wore most often. You didn’t start fights when you noticed him texting your best friend more than usual. You pretended not to see when you saw him researching photographers on his open laptop. You were willing to play into the surprise, and honestly, you didn’t want to pry. You wanted to be enchanted and impressed when the time came. It would make it more exciting.

You must’ve had a lapse in mentality for a second, or perhaps you just had a lot on your mind that day, because when he asked if you wanted to play hooky and go on a day trip with him, you didn’t suspect a thing.

“How spontaneous,” you’d said, delighted.

He’d only smiled. “Gotta keep you on your toes, y’know.”

You didn’t notice how the nervousness pulled at his eyes as you called in sick to work and put on a cute blue dress. He suggests a white sundress, but you decline, feeling like it’s more of a blue kind of day. You don’t notice how he doesn’t comment on the choice the way he normally does.

Your destination was a botanical garden up north, a prospect that excites you. Your Instagram needed something to spruce it up and some photos against the foliage would be perfect to introduce a vernal vibe. He leads you over to a wall of hydrangeas, and helps you rearrange your hat and jewelry so they stand out in the bright afternoon sun.

"Okay so look left, now look up, now hold out your bag." He's always good at directing you for photos, copying the same directions he's been given on his various shoots, and you've become much better at taking direction the longer you've been together. 

"Okay now look at the flowers and pretend to pick off a petal. No, reach out a little farther. Okay, hold that." You hear his voice moving as he changes angles, trying to find exactly where the best shot is. Your eyes fixate on the hydrangeas, at the vast greenish blooms that are climbing up the trellises, smelling almost sickly sweet. For a moment you worry that the pale green of them might clash with your dress, but if that was the case then at least you have dozens of other photos in different locations. No great loss. Inside the bush, you can see small insects climbing along the branches. There are a few buds deep int he recesses, too young to push their way out and bloom. All whole world beneath you, sheltering in soft petals. A home for smaller creatures.

You get so distracted by the flowers themselves you don't notice that Chan has stopped speaking.

"Did you get it?" you call out. No response. You turn to where he was standing across the way.

He's gone.

Confusion settles in. Your eyes dart back and forth. "Baby? Where'd you go?" He's nowhere. You turn completely around, towards the other end of the wall of hydrangeas, and that's where you finally find Chan.....down on one knee.

Your vision immediately tunnels. His hair is out of place, as if he's been running his hands through it. He does that when he gets nervous. Your gaze darts down to see an open ring box in one hand, the gem glittering in the bright sun, nearly blinding you just from the intensity of its presence.

"Oh my god." You can't breathe. Your heart stutters in your chest.

"Y/n," he says, looking up at you with so much tenderness and love. "these past few years with you have as beautiful and perfect as a spring day. You're the most wonderful woman I've ever met, and I’ve never been so glad to know anyone. I never want our time together to end. I love you more than life itself.” He takes a breath then says those four words. “Will you marry me?"

Your brain short-circuits. It’s like the sun is dimming above you, your whole body struck still. You think of the hydrangeas washing out your dress, and the sun in your eyes, and all the people around watching you flounder and struggle for something to say. You’re so shocked and excited that it’s overwhelming you- cold sweat breaks out on your brow and you lose control of your mouth entirely so instead of saying a resounding "Yes!" the word that comes out is a very quiet "No..."

Chan freezes. The smile that had been spread across his face falls, his eyes dim. 

"No?" he asks, clearly unprepared for this answer. "You don't-"

His own shock snaps you out of yours and your brain kicks back into gear. Horror overwhelms you.

"Oh my god! No, no I just- I was thinking about how I look and how everyone is looking at us right now and I should've worn that white dress you suggested to me and now I've fucked up all the photos and-"

You can't tell if you're making it worse or making it better, so you give up. You grab him by the coat, haul him up, and kiss him.

Suddenly, there's movement around you, and several people burst out from behind the hydrangea bushes that surround you. You open your eyes and see all your friends and family swarming and excited. They were watching the whole thing. They’re all wearing white. Chan invited them so they could share in this happy moment with you. The people around you in the garden clap politely and call congratulations. You look up and notice someone pointing a camera at you a distance away. Chan had the whole thing filmed.

It's a picture-perfect proposal and you'd almost ruined it.

You step back from him, and god he still looks so unsure and you hate yourself for stealing even a little of his joy.

"Yes, Chan. Yes, I'll marry you. A thousand times yes."

Relief sinks into every part of his being, and he leans in to kiss you again. And then your friends and family reach you, and it's all chaos. Your friends are shattering excitedly at you about oh my god Y/N you don't know how hard it was to keep a secret we've been planning this for ages, and the guys in your friend group are clapping Chan on the back, giving more sincere congratulations than you've heard from them in years, but all of it is white noise to you. The only person who exists to you in this moment is Chan. The adrenaline slowly ekes away, and you feel more at peace, more right than you ever have before.

Later that night, you're sitting in your apartment flipping through some zines you'd picked up from the gift shop on the south end of the garden. Chan is in the kitchen putting away leftovers, and the TV is turned on low, white noise for your quiet evening. Your new ring gleams on your finger, and you can barely focus on the botanical facts you're wearing because it keeps catching your eye and distracting you with private glee.

You feel the couch dip as he sits down, and you lean into his side. His hand comes up to wrap around you automatically.

"You scared the shit out of me today," Chan says, and his tone is light but you know he's telling the absolute truth. You wince, setting the zine down and turning to face him properly.

"I was nervous about doing a public proposal," he continues. "I know you said you were okay with it but when I saw you panic I started to worry."

"I'm sorry. I really was just surprised. My mind was in a thousand different places."

You both know you have a tendency to put your foot in your mouth. It's rare you fumble on such a serious occasion, though.

"When you said no, I think my heart dropped into my stomach."

You sigh, cursing your past self for planting any seed of doubt in his mind. "I got overwhelmed. With love for you, I swear, but I started spiraling because I was so caught off guard. I regretted not wearing the white dress you told me to wear. I'd already been thinking that my blue dress clashed with the flowers, and then I realized you were proposing and I thought I'd ruined your whole plan. I felt bad.”

Chan let out a sigh, but it wasn't a tired or exasperated sigh. Instead, it was fond.

"You could've insisted on wearing sweatpants today and it wouldn't have ruined the proposal. You look beautiful in anything. All I wanted was your answer."

"You must've known that there was no way I would've said no."

"But you did."

"Out of shock! Cut me some slack, it's not every day you get proposed to! I've never done it before! I didn't know what to do with myself!"

"I've never proposed to anyone either," Chan says. "I was sweating bullets."

"I just thought it was the heat."

"You're a menace."

"I'm your fiancée," you say, and it's the first time you've said it out loud, and it fills you with so much excitement that a smile splits your face in half all over again. "I'm going to marry you soon."

Chan's smile is a twin of yours. "You are," he says. "And you've never done that either."

"We'll figure it out," you vow. "And I'll learn to watch my mouth."

"Please do. If you don't say "I do" at the altar, I'll collapse out of cardiac arrest."

"Then I guess I better start practicing," you tease. "I, F/N L/N, do take you, Christopher Bang, to be my lawfully wedded husband. I'll repeat it in the mirror every morning."

You're joking of course. You know that when the time comes to say vows, you won't be stuttering or stumbling over the words. They're already echoing in your head over and over again. You think you might start saying them in unrelated conversations, the words bursting out of you like water from a dam. I do, I do, I do.

Chan leans over, finally relaxed, and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes and bask in the attention.

Next time you’ll wear a white dress, and you won’t flinch for a second.

[mossangelll]

Dress Me like Your French Girls

yandere!caitlyn x reader x yandere!jinx requested by anon!

took me longer than i would’ve liked (with many tense mistakes included oops) but i hope you can enjoy! i took a lot of liberties with this request and kinda ran with it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

tw: kidnapping, violence, controlling behaviour, objectification

Bedsheets made of prussian blue silk and white lace borders, floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the great expanse of the gardens, even fresh flowers set on your vanity each morning without fail - all before you even had the chance to rub sleep from your eyes. You knew the beauty that surrounded you was merely a mirage, something to distract you from opening your eyes to its harsh reality. You may be a nobody from Zaun but you’re no fool; you could see the minute you stepped foot in this place you that it was just a prison, even if it had a crystal chandelier.

Today, you’re sat at your walnut desk reading the book Caitlyn - no, Cait, got for you.

It was something about flowers you couldn’t care less about but you know when Caitlyn comes to see you for the evening, she’ll expect to hear all about your riveting day, including your thoughts on the book she gifted to you. Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you turn the page with a gloved hand, but the words and diagrams blur together into a puddle of ink you can’t decipher. Well, as long as you could recount a handful of trite facts she should be satisfied.

After all, she mentioned a special gift that you would both enjoy, that is what her focus will be on for most of the evening.

Your eyes flicker to the wardrobe stuffed to the brim with expensive, custom-made garments that looms over you and you find your mind turns to static in an attempt to block out all the intrusive memories you’d rather lose to the abyss of time, even if you know that you will never be able to cut away Cait’s lasting scars.

She will always intertwined in your life as much as you are hers.

Whenever she brings one of these “gifts” to your room, you know what to expect. It’s never anything sordid - oh, Cait could never do anything as debased as what those cruel animals do. Ever the pinnacle of Kiramman self-control, or as you like to call it - repression. But still, when she’s done, her tongue darts out to lick her lips, her face blooms with all the effort of her rapidly beating heart and she has the demeanour of a woman starved, she simply…retracts into herself as if the inferno burning deep inside of her isn’t roaring to be let out and engulf everything it touches.

It starts with Cait slipping into your room at night with a heavy sigh, head leaning against the ornate doors and fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turn bone white.

The light from the chandelier is dimmed, casting dark shadows to contrast her silhouette and pronounce the weariness of her face, and yet she manages to have not a single hair out of place much to your ever-growing chagrin.

Then, she ambles over to where you’re sat, each tap of her heeled boots in sync with the pounding of your heart, making her own attempt at casual conversation (that somehow always manages to come off as strained, like she has to force the words out from her throat) about your day as if any of this was normal, as if you actually had free will and the ability to make your own choices, not just the the illusion of it all. But that was what Cait was best at, keeping up illusions no matter how cracked and faded they become.

She guides you with hands tight on your shoulders to sit at the ornate vanity, a hand moving to the middle of your back to force it ramrod straight, so she can brush your hair with a featherlight touch from the crown of your head to the tangled ends. Back before you had her rules ingrained into the every other fibre of your being, you told her that you’re not some porcelain doll that could break at the smallest touch but all you get in return was the hardened stare you’d come to know well in the reflection of the mirror - you don’t speak unless spoken to. Always.

She starts to get you ready for bed, ever so slightly calloused hands wiping away the day’s makeup. It felt wrong to see her, sole heir to the House of Kiramman, act so subservient just for you. It was an unnatural upheaval of the entire hierarchy that dictated your life until this point and it never fails to make your head spin with its taboo intoxication.

She saves the part you dread the most for last, and no matter how many times you went through the same monotonous routine, you still felt uneasy every time the clock’s chime rang through the halls closer and closer to her arrival.

Cait ensured she was the only one to undress you from whatever restrictive clothes she had forced upon you in the morning. No maids could be trusted to be anywhere near you, let alone get to see you in such a revealing state. That was reserved for her eyes only.

Graceful fingers weave between the laces of your corset, unravelling the thread at a snail’s pace. Sometimes, though she would vehemently deny the accusation with great fervour, she would yank at the corset strings just a tad too tight, fingers flexing at your waist to calm herself when she felt your hands grasp at her forearms in an attempt to stabilise yourself. You knew just as well as she that she got a sick thrill from how much you needed her.

The corset is soon discarded alongside the rest of your clothing and she traces the curve of your spine, goose bumps rising on your skin like hackles, before choosing your nightgown for the evening from the very wardrobe you despised with each ounce of your body.

She would get you to lift up your arms and have you to stand in the gauzy fabric as she pulls it up your body, not even giving you the chance to huddle in on yourself.

She makes you twirl for her in the centre of the room and her eyes glow in delight as the skirt of your dress fans out and rises before gently falling back down, so close to being indecent but just able to keep from toeing the line she drew. You wonder if the moonlight can penetrate through the thin dresses and illuminate each and every part of you, even the parts you’d rather remain unseen, and if that’s why she makes you do all this, even if she’d never admit it.

She sits you down on your plush footboard and kneels at your feet, blue eyes staring up at you with restrained wonderment. Humming in satisfaction, her hands slowly, painstakingly slowly, push the sheer fabric of your nightgown higher up your legs until you feel the need to cover yourself from her piercing gaze.

Her fingers hook into the tops of your stockings and all you want to do is cross your legs, shove her thin frame away and say no, no, no!

But you know Cait has no patience for that kind of attitude - especially not from you. So you stare down at her, hair free and untamed, and allow her to tug the stockings down your legs, your shaking hands clutching the sturdy underside of the footboard.

She tends to stall at this point, hands instead choosing to lightly stroke and swirl patterns on the doughy flesh of your thighs. Your chest heaves even more than it did before and far beyond what should be humanly possible and you find it hard to understand exactly what is going through her mind at that moment.

Cait wears her heart on her sleeve and though you ache to use that against her, it’s still so hard to pick apart her actions that it leaves your head spinning with the commotion of it all.

Time passes slowly in the still of your room as she inches closer to you, almost imperceptibly, until her head lays on your kneecap so softly you wouldn’t even know she was there if not for the light tickle of her hair.

Her lips leave paper-light kisses on your skin as she mumbles you through the intricacies of her day, things you could never even begin to understand, but you can tell how much it means to her just to be sat with you - the enforcers, her critical mother, every single expectation that is forced upon her shoulders, it all fades into the background as the frown on her face slowly dissipates.

Once she’s content she continues pulling off your stockings until they lie in a crumpled pile on the carpet next to her. You don’t know what she does with the stockings but you never see them again, another of Cait’s great mysteries.

Such an intimate routine that you know is unnervingly chaste. No lingering touches or stolen kisses you can’t object to, it never goes beyond that point and somehow that makes it so much worse because you spend your days in wait for a day that you know will come eventually - you just don’t know when.

She leads you to your grand, four poster bed and tucks you in with such an overwhelming amount of love just oozing from her pores that a part of you almost wishes this was ok, that you met her under normal circumstances and that you actually loved her.

“Beautiful.” she sighs without fail every time she’s done getting you ready, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to sleep. Though you’re never quite sure if she’s talking about you or her creation.

You slip out of your trance and look at the golden hands on the clock you swore had gone forwards despite no time passing at all. You’re still on the same page you were ten minutes ago - shit.

The curtains were drawn, letting in rays of light that hit the crystal chandelier. You would’ve found the whole affair to be beautiful if it wasn’t for the fact that the light refracted directly into eyes - you had to work hard to resist the urge to squint your eyes or blink.

Caitlyn- fuck, Cait! You feel the urge to rip your hair out at each stumble and mistake. You could never trip up like this in front of her, not if you wanted to steer well clear of her punishments.

Cait doesn’t like to see you make ugly faces or anything even remotely human, “Such… crude expressions don’t suit your face, darling.” She said in that soft tone of hers but the words would be dripping in derision.

Her hand would ghost the side of your face, so close to touching you that you could feel the warmth radiate from her but then she pulls away like she was being held back by some invisible force. But, to your surprise, she pushes through the internal conflicts that raged within her and her hand would return to grace the side of your face and trace from your brow bone down to the apples of your cheeks which she would gently cup, the other hand going to smooth out the lines and tension that marred your forehead before letting out a small, “All better.”

It’s hard to remember what life was like before Caitlyn sunk her claws into you, before you stopped being human and simply became her toy. You don’t know how she managed to take you - all you know is from the loving declarations she whispered in the dead of night about how she would stop at nothing until she got you - as if you would swoon. All you felt was sick to your core.

Click. Click. Click.

You hear footsteps just outside your door and freeze - why is she here so early? You hurry to your assigned place and assume doll-like role Cait expects from you. You can hear fumbling at the lock and the door handle jangling from the force of her hand. Today must have been rough on her which means your evening ritual will last longer than usual. Bile rises up your throat at the thought but you school your features into the perfect mask of neutrality. There, you think, all perfect for Cait.

So you find yourself surprised when instead of Caitlyn in her all-consuming haughtiness, a false pretence you saw through long ago, you see a woman with long blue braids and a ferocious smile stalking towards you without a care in the world.

How did she get past the guards?

“Lookie here, you’re the hidden treasure our fair lady has been keeping hush about. My intel didn’t tell me it’d be so…delicate.” She swung her head back to bark out a sharp laugh as a manicured hand twirled a graffitied gun around her finger. Still, when her laughter stops, she stares at you with a look you can’t decipher, something…darker swirling in her dilated eyes. Something you’re certain you’ve only ever seen in Cait’s eyes.

“Not like she’s doin’ a good job.” She speaks off to the side in a lazy, condescending drawl, a hand covering her mouth, and you search the room for the invisible audience. What is going on? Who is she?

Suddenly, the lithe intruder jumps to your place at the desk, slinging her arm around your shoulders in such a familiar way you can’t help but feel flustered.

“Hiya, toots. I’m Jinx and you are…?” She waggles her hand in your face before trailing off in wait of an answer but you keep your eyes trained in front of you. Not a single movement betrays you.

You can tell this upsets her as the conspiring look on her face quickly turns sour - she’s not used to being ignored.

She swings herself around with surprising dexterity and lands in your lap before you can even process what’s going on - she’s so close you can feel each puff of air leave her nose and hit your face in short bursts.

At this distance, you can notice every little detail that marks her face. The skin surrounding her pink eyes streaked with dark, branch-like veins. Her gap tooth and dark purple lipstick that stained her plump lips. The soft curve of her rounded cheeks and the misbehaving strand of cerulean hair that escapes the confines of her long braids. She smells like gunpowder, sweat and a hint of the cloying sweetness that could only be from artificial sugar. Her clothes are tattered but full of life and personality with each spot she had sloppily sewn back together herself - most importantly, she was everything Cait wasn’t. A welcome breath of fresh air in your own, albeit unnecessary, opinion.

Her cold hands poke at your cheeks in a childlike manner, indignation bubbling up inside of you and so close to bursting out. Why did everyone treat you like an object to be observed and played with?

“You are a real person, right?” The intruder squishes your cheeks together, staring into your eyes with rising suspicion. What kind of question even was that?!

You want to fidget and squirm, desperate to get away from whoever this Jinx is but the cautious voice in your head stops you, what if this was a test from Cait? To see if you would remain loyal to her? To see if you would stick to her rules no matter what?

But she claps her hand with a resounding crack that echoes throughout the room, maybe even the entire wing of the manor judging by how the birds outside took off, and your whole body jumps in shock completely abandoning your desire to remain as still as Cait would expect of you.

“Hah! Caught you! I knew you were real!” She jumps up from your lap and fist pumps the air. She seems so proud of herself for finally eliciting a reaction out of you that you decide it must be ok to test the waters and figure out exactly what is happening here.

“W-who are you and what are you doing in my room?” Your voice is low from disuse but it still manages to catch her attention away from her victory dance.

Her pink eyes wander over your doll-like figure, so unnaturally stiff and composed. It was as if you were posed and left to rot away in your dollhouse until your owner came to play with you again.

“I think I know how ya’ feel, all alone like this. You wanna be happy, tell me I’m wrong.” She shrugs with an air of indifference, but she’s anything but. The cogs have started turning in her head and set into motion a plan she can’t resist despite the immorality of it all. A plan where she saves you from this place so you can be happy - with her. Then again, when has she cared about morals?

Tremors ripple through your body and you gulp, not knowing where to look or what to think. You won’t give in to her downright cruel line of questioning, no matter how much you want to scream out that you were kidnapped and you just want to go home.

“I have no idea what you mean.” You decide to settle on instead, turning your back at the only chance of freedom you had.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong - I mean look at you. You’re dressed up like a stupid Piltie and you’re telling me you can make your own decisions?” Her hand gestures to your get-up and you look down at yourself in shame, face feeling hot and your limbs shaking, “Pfft, and here I thought I was the liar.” She shakes her head in derision.

“I’m about to do you a favour, toots.” Her arm reaches to hold onto the back of your chair, blocking off any path of escape, and she stares dead into your eyes and you can’t help but startle at how cold they are, not even a speck of warmth hiding beneath the surface. She slinks off to stand behind you where you’re unable to figure out what move she’ll try to pull next.

Before you can start to question what she meant, a sharp pain hits you in the base of your skull.

Flashes of colour swim in your vision and the sudden urge to throw up overcomes you before you lose control of your body, slumping over from your seated position and hitting the floor before everything fades to black.

masterlist

[yamumsyadadd]

the shadow of alexia

At 4 years old my entire life changed. One day my dad was at home and the next he wasn’t. Things changed after that. Everyone was sad, lots of people visited too. Sometimes I got new toys when they came over. 

Alba was a scary teenager but Alexia. Alexia was my best friend and I was hers. She would take me to kindergarten and pick me up, she never missed a soccer game or ballet recital, she was always there. So was her special friend Jenni. Jenni was great, when I was little she used to let me colour in her tattoos, Everytime she got a new one, she’s get me new pens to colour on her. 

As time went on, Alba and Alexia started moving out. Alexia moved in with Jenni and started getting busy with football, Alba still lived with Mami but was busy with her friends and modelling. Mami did the best she could. She was getting older and more tired, she didn’t miss a game or my last ballet recital, she didn’t miss the disappointment in my eyes when Alexia or Alba didn’t turn up. They were busy, I understand. 

It went from seeing them a couple times a week, to once a week, to once a month. I learnt pretty quickly the only way to get Alexia’s attention was to either play football or to fuck up. Lucky for me I was good at both. School was boring, it was too easy, I understood it all faster than anyone else. The first time I skipped school, I was 14. No one noticed and no one cared. From there on out it became a routine. At least once a week I’d skip school and hang out with the others. 

I personally never did anything too rowdy, just tagged along to enjoy the vibes. The first time I got caught skipping school was by Virginia. She promised me she wouldn’t tell Alexia or Mami and she kept that promise. The next time was by Alba, she lost her shit. Yelling at me about how irresponsible I was being and how much trouble I would get in. The second last time I got caught was by Jenni, I hadn’t seen her in a while, I was mad at her because of that so when she tried to give me a lecture I yelled at her.

“Y/n, you can’t be doing this shit. If Alexia found out she would lose it at you! What would happen if the police got you? What would you do then?”

“Why do you care Jenni? Huh? You left, you haven’t been around. You fucked off to Paris and didn’t even say goodbye. Tell Alexia, I don’t care, at least then she would talk to me.”

“Y/n, did Ale not talk to you about this?” Her voice was incredibly soft. That was something I missed about her, the way she spoke, the softness that was hidden from most people. 

“She doesn’t talk to me at all. She doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

“Bebeita, we broke up. Thats why I left. we ended things and to be able to heal I had to leave. I am so sorry, she promised she would talk to you about it. I wanted to say goodbye to you myself but Alexia said it would be a bad idea.”

From there things spiralled. I didn’t want to talk to Alexia, I didn’t want to see her. I stopped going to her games with Mami, I would sneak out when I knew she was coming over. No longer did I look up to her, I hated her. I wanted nothing to do with her. 

The day I quit football, I felt free. No longer having to play to get my oldest sisters attention, I didn’t care for that anymore. I had more time to hang out with my friends, to be a normal fucking teenager. 

It took a week, it was quicker then I thought to be honest, but once Alexia found out, all hell broke loose. 

“Where the hell is she!” Alexia stormed through the house. Surprising Eli. 

“Who Alexia?” 

“The Idiota. Your mija?” Alexia huffed. Eli was surprised by the way Alexia was acting. 

“In her room with her friend.”  Before Eli could say anything else, Alexia was off. Swinging open the door and disturbing the peace between you and your girlfriend.

“You, get out.” 

“No Alexia. You don’t get to tell her to get out.” I got defensive fast. There’s no way she gets to come here and tell her she needs to leave. 

“GET OUT NOW!” Alexia’s ‘captain’ voice was something that always got people moving. 

“You don’t get to come here and act like you run the place. News flash alexia, you don’t fucking live here!” 

“¡Dios mío! What is happening! Why did Isabella leave crying?” Mami looked pissed. More so at alexia than me. 

“Alexia kicked her out. For no reason other than the fact that no one else is allowed to be happy but her.” 

“Tell her what you did!” When I was younger, the look she was giving me would’ve scared me, but now it did nothing. 

“I didn’t do anything alexia. Whatever your minions are telling you isn’t true. But hey, you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” I tried to push past her, but she grabbed my wrist stopping me from moving. 

“Mami she quit football. She fucking quit. After everything I’ve done for her she throws it back in my face!” Rolling her eyes and scoffing at me. 

“Let her go now. I am aware she quit Alexia. She was only doing it for you.” Mami was mad, very mad. Alexia had come and disturbed the peace, making Isabella cry and screaming the house down. 

“Grab me like that again I’ll drop you on your ass. I don’t give a fuck that you are la Reina.” The words came out like venom. 

Everything is always about Alexia. I joined football to get close to her, I didn’t mean to get as far as I did, I honestly didn’t think I’d get past the academy. Being called up into the Barca B squad was cool. I enjoy the fitness side of it but genuinely couldn’t care less about actually playing. 

The same day I quit, was the same day I got called up for the senior team. It sent me into a bit of a spiral. Mapi found me in the corner of the physios room with my sketchbook, crying. 

“Oh nena! What’s wrong? Do you want me to get Ale?” 

“No! Not ale! Don’t tell her please!”

“Okay no Ale but can you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” 

“I got asked to join the senior team and I don’t want to. I only started playing so Alexia would be nice to me and talk to me. I don’t even like this stupid game! I just want to draw but that’ll never be good enough for her.”  

After that, Mapi and I would get coffee in the mornings, I would show her my new drawings and tell her my ideas. She paid me to draw a photo of her and Ingrid. I knew she could draw herself but it was nice to have her in my corner.  Mapi was talking more about to me Alexia, saying how good my drawings were and how much happier I seemed not having to play, she seemed to miss the confusion written all over Alexia’s face. 

 •———————————————————————•

Mami had a trip coming up, I knew about this, but what I didn’t know what she was going to make me stay with alexia. Isabella and I came home after the movies to find Mami, Alexia, Alba and some other chick sitting at the table. I mumbled a quick hello before trying to drag Isabella upstairs. 

“Don’t be so rude. Actually say hello.” Alexia spoke angrily. 

Scoffing I turned around “bite me Alexia.” 

“¡Dios mío! Isabella Mi vida, it’s time for you to go home. You can wait upstairs for your Mami.” 

“Mami no. That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to come in here and start bossing everyone around!” 

“It’s okay amor, I should go home anyway. We have that biology exam anyway.” 

“Now that your little friend is gone, sit down.” 

“No.” 

“SIT DOWN.” 

“Ale, Cálmate.” The mysterious brunette says as she places her arm on alexia’s. 

Fuck all this shit honestly. Turning as fast as I could I ran upstairs, knowing Alexia would follow quickly. I was right. I was barely able to push my dresser against the door before she tried to open it. I was not going to sit at that table and play happy families. 

After an hour of listening to Alexia curse, she finally gave up. It was peaceful until Alba climbed through my bedroom window. 

“Still got it.” 

“Alba what the hell!” 

“Hermana, I don’t know what happened between you and Ale, but if it’s the same thing that happened between me and you then you need to talk to her. She’s worried about you and scared. She doesn’t want to lose you.” 

“She only cares now that she thinks her precious imagine is going to get hurt.” 

“If you talk to her now, while Olga is here, it’ll be easier. She calms Alexia down and makes her think more rationally.” 

“Who the fuck is Olga?” Was that the mysterious brunette in the dining room?

“What do you mean? She’s alexia’s girlfriend? You’ve met her before?” 

“No I haven’t. I didn’t know she had a girlfriend.” 

“Yes you met her a dinner a few months ago? She comes to Ales games and on Fridays when we have dinner!”

“I wasn’t invited to that dinner, I don’t go to Alexia’s games and I certainly don’t go to Friday dinners!” The angry tears started. Alexia was my hero, my bestfriend, the person I wanted to be and now I’ve been pushed aside. I know nothing about her and she equally knows nothing about me. 

Alba pulled me in tight, letting me cry on her. It was weird doing it with her, she used to be the reason I cried and not the one to comfort me. But here we are, things change I guess. 

“Mami really needs to talk with you so we need to go downstairs.” Begrudgingly I let alba pull me down the stairs. It was obvious to everyone that I had been crying, mami’s face softening when she saw me, Alexia’s face frowning in confusion. 

“You wanted to talk so please do it quickly. I want to go to bed.” I tried to speak as respectfully as I could to Mami, it wasn’t her fault. 

“Mija, I’ll be away for a month, you know this si?” I nodded my head before she continued, “you’re too young to stay here for a month alone so you’re going to stay with Alexia and Olga. You can still see your friends and will go to school, but they will look after you.” 

“Mami no! I can look after myself!” 

“You’re 16 chica. You’re not an adult like you think you are.” Alexia scoffed from the other side of the table. 

“So what? You’re shipping me off to stay with Alexia, who won’t even been there half the time and a stranger? That’s safer? Some person that I’ve never met and sure as shit don’t trust!” 

“Stop being such a Perra! You have met Olga, plenty of times! She comes to all the games she can, and to dinners all the time.” 

“Ale stop” Alba knew what was coming and tried to stop it but it was too late. 

“Dios mío, your head is so far up your own arse isn’t it? I haven’t been to a single game in over 8 months, I don’t get invited to you stupid little Friday night dinners and I have never met your girlfriend! Up until an hour ago I didn’t even know you had a fucking girlfriend Alexia. Everything is always about you. You and your stupid football or your stupid knee. I bet you right now you couldn’t tell me anything about what I’ve done in the last year, can you?” 

“I know you quit football because you’re being a brat.” 

Her answer honestly made me chuckle “Okay Alexia, anything else?” 

Silence. She couldn’t tell you a single thing. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought. You know nothing about me and that’s how it’s going to stay. I dont trust you, I don’t like you and I sure as shit don’t love you. You’re not my Hermana.” With hot tears falling down my face, I stormed back upstairs. I text Isabella asking if I could stay over and once she replied with a yes, I was gone. Out the window like Alba had come in an hour earlier. I texted Mami to let her know, I wasn’t that horrible to make her worry. 

“Mami, you can’t let her talk to people like that! She’s incredibly disrespectful!” 

Alba rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Are you serious? That girl used to hang off you. She looked up to you. It was always you alexia and now she wants nothing to do with you. You don’t invite her places, you don’t care about her. I noticed ages ago she was pulling away and I fixed it. Did you know she has a girlfriend? Or that she’s taking senior classes because she’s the smartest there? Or the fact that people are paying her to make them art or buying the pieces she already has. She quit football because she hates it. She hates it because of you. You ruined it for her. Mami, I will stay here with her while you’re gone. It’ll be better that way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drop her off at Isabella’s.” 

“No! It’s a school night! She cannot be going out!” It seems everything that was just said to Alexia, went in one ear and out the other. 

“Alexia stop it now. She is allowed to stay at her girlfriend’s house, she has an exam at 1pm. Maybe you need to listen to what people are saying to you. I am going to bed, I suggest you all do the same, at your own houses.” 

“Why does no one listen to me!” Alexia was annoyed, overwhelmed and tired. It had drained a lot of her energy being here tonight. 

“Ale, I’m going to say this one time, you need to listen to what everyone has told you tonight, really listen, because you aren’t. You need to fix things with her but you need to sort your shit out first.” Olga had stayed silent most of the night, listening to everything that was said knowing her girlfriend wouldn’t. You were right, you had never met each other. What Olga didn’t realise was that it was Alexia’s fault, not yours. She put it down to being a moody teenager who was too cool to hang out with her sisters, oh how wrong she was. 

•———————————————————————•

Two days before Mami was meant to go away, Alba rang saying she couldn’t stay over. She had gotten a modelling gig in Madrid and needed to go, that left Alexia and Olga. It would be the longest month of my life. Mami promised nothing would change just because I was staying here, she was wrong. Alexia was a bitch. 

The first few days were fine, alexia would drop me off at school and I’d make my way home after, I generally spend it was Isabella because Alexia wouldn’t let her come over. We go into the city centre, get coffee and do our homework then catch the bus home. We did this even when Mami was here so it wasn’t anything new but when Alexia found out she hit the roof. 

“You cannot be going into the city by yourself! Are you thick in the head?” 

“Jesus Christ alexia! I’m not alone. Isabella is with me. Mami lets me do it so I’m going to keep doing it.” 

“Is Isabella the reason you’re skipping school too?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I scoffed, storming off the guest bedroom and slamming the door so hard it made Olga jump. 

By the third day of me being there, Alexia had turned up to pick me up herself. I tried to completely ignore her but Isabella had other ideas. 

“Your sister is death staring me right now.” 

“No amor, not you but me. Oh fuck here we go, she’s coming over here.” 

“Get in the car y/n.”

“No. I told you yesterday that I’m allowed to do this. You’re not the boss of me.” 

“Bebeita, it’s fine. I’ve got chores to do for papa anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed my cheek and then walked away, leaving me no choice but to get in Alexia’s car. 

The car ride was hell. Alexia was pissed, her hands constantly gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckle turned white. Neither of us spoke. To be honest, I didn’t know where we were going until we turned up at the training ground. 

“Why are we here?” 

“We have training. Get out.” 

“No alexia. I quit. What part of that don’t you understand.” 

“Get out now, or I will drag you out.” 

Knowing she would literally drag me out, I had to wait it out. She’d turn her back eventually and I could leg it. I’m faster than her and more willing to jump fences. 

The time came sooner than I thought, after entering the change rooms, she threw a set of clothes into my chest and walked off to the bathrooms. This was my chance and I wasn’t going to waste it. 

Throwing the clothes into her cubby, I legged it out the door. Running past Mapi, Ingrid and Ona who all had confused looked on their faces. As soon as I got out, I kept running, knowing i had to get a head start. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, I knew I couldn’t go back to Alexia’s, Olga would be there. I couldn’t go home because that’s the first place she’d go, I couldn’t go to Albas because she drag me back by my ear. There was only one place to go. 

Can Cuyás Golf Culb was the best place to hide. Sure someone might see me, but it’s easy enough to pretend to be lost. 

The first thing Alexia noticed when she came out was the lack of you. Then the clothes she had given you, thrown back into her cubby. 

“Have you seen y/n?” She asked as she turned to the girls in the locker room. 

“She ran past us like 5 minutes ago?” Ona spoke up. 

“Did she say anything?” 

“No she was in a bit of a hurry Ale.” Mapi rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“Fuck sake.” Alexia exited the locker room, walking through the facility to try and find you. Slight panic kicked in when she wasn’t able too. Deciding to call Alba first, knowing you’d been closer to her the past few months. 

“Hola Ale, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

“Have you seen y/n?” 

“No why? What happened?” Panic arising in Alba. 

“I picked her up from school and bought her to training. Gave her clothes to change into and I went to the toilet and came back and she was gone. She fucking ran off.” 

“Why the hell would you try and make her train Alexia! She quit. She doesn’t want to play anymore!” Alba quickly became anger with the oldest Putellas. 

“She is too good to throw it all away! She’s being a stupid child about all of this!” Quickly becoming defensive, not enjoying the way Alba is talking to her. 

“You’re unbelievable. I haven’t seen her, I will try and find her. Don’t you worry, put your football above her like you always do.” 

“Alba-“ she hung up before alexia could get another word in. There was one person left that Alexia had to call. 

“Hola amor, why aren’t you training?” Olga’s sweet voice sounded through the phone. 

“I’ve lost y/n. Can you please let me know if she comes home and if she does then don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“What do you mean you’ve lost her Ale?” 

“I bought her to training and she ran away while I was in the bathroom.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Alexia already knew by the silence on the other end that Olga was trying to not yell at her. 

“Alexia-“

“No I know okay. I already got an ear full from Alba. I have to go but I’ll call you later okay. I love you.” Slowly it started to creep in the fact that she had fucked up and caused you to run away. Training dragged on for Alexia, hoping that you had been found or made contact with Alba or even Olga. 

Meanwhile, after hiding at the golf course for an hour, i decided to head to Isabella’s house. Knocking on the door, Isabella answered, still buttoning up her shirt. Eyes wide when she realised I was at her door. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She closed the door slightly, so I could no longer see into the loungeroom. 

“I ran away from Alexia. I was hoping we could hang out like normal?” 

“Now’s not really a good time. I have someone here.” Isabella spoke quietly, not wanting to allude to the fact that the person inside wasn’t just a friend. 

“Baby come back, we weren’t finished.” A guys voice yelled out. 

“It’s not what you think y/n!” 

“I think that guy wants your attention. I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re half dressed. Enjoy your time with him, we are done.” Tears welling in my eyes. 

“I’m sorry y/n!” 

“Go fuck your self Isabella.” sadness turned into anger real quick. 

Isabella was my first girlfriend, my first kiss, the first person I had sex with and she goes and fucks a guy? While we are together? This is literally the last thing I wanted to deal with. 

Unsure on what to do, or who to call I found my way to the beach. My throat and eyes hurt from crying so much. The pain in my chest was getting worse. Pulling out my phone, ignoring all the messages and calls, I rang the one person who would calm me. 

“Hey Calabaza? What’s up?” Jenni’s voice rang through my ears. Unable to form a coherent sentence, only sobs coming out of my mouth. 

“Hold on Bebé” I could hear her moving around, the voices of her teammates getting quieter, “talk to me. What happened?”

“I ran away. I ran away from Alexia and I went to Isabella’s house and she-she was cheating on me. With a guy. A fucking dude. She broke my heart Jenni. It hurts so much.” 

“Oh babé. Where is Ale now? Where are you?” 

“I don’t know. She’s probably at training. I’m at the beach where Papa used to take us. She’s going to be so mad at me.”

“Can you tell me why you ran away from her?” The way Jenni spoke so sweetly was something I missed dearly. 

“She got me from school and took me to the training grounds. She was trying to make me train but when she went to the bathroom I ran away. I don’t want to train, I don’t want to play. I hate the game and I hate her. She doesn’t listen or care about me!” I could feel myself getting upset again. 

“Okay okay, just breathe. You’re okay. I’m not going to tell her where you are but I need to tell someone. Albs has messaged me and so has Olga. You can pick who I tell.” 

Pondering the options, Alba would tell Alexia but she’d also be just as angry and upset. Olga would tell Alexia but she’d be calmer and softer, that was what I needed at this moment. 

“Olga. But tell her not to bring Alexia.” 

“Okay bebé.” After a few moments she spoke up again, “she’s on the way. She promised no Alexia. Do you want to stay on the line with me until she comes?” 

“Yes please. Can you tell me about Mexico?” Sniffling and wiping my face, I got up, walking towards the road to wait for Olga. After 25 minutes, Olga pulled up. A sad smile and worry on her face, she put an arm around me. 

“Is Olga there now?” Jenni asked. 

“Yeah she is. Uh thanks Jenni. Sorry for disturbing you.” Embarrassed about haven taken her time. 

“No bebé, you don’t need to thank me or apologise. We are hermanas no matter what okay. You call me tomorrow when you’re feeling better. I love you.” with that she hung up. Reality slowing sinking it. 

“Let’s get you home yeah? Are you hungry?” Olga smiled sadly at me. 

“No thanks. Just tired.” I mumbled out. 

The drive back to Alexia’s was quiet. When we pulled up, Alexia’s car wasn’t there, meaning she wasn’t home. That was good. Very good. 

“She’s at Albas house. I told her you had messaged me but that I didn’t know where you were yet. It’s a small lie, but I’m sure it’s worth it.” 

“Alexia hates lying.” I said lowly. Thinking back to all those times as a small girl that she yelled at me for lying. 

“I know Pequeño. Do you want to tell me what happened today?” 

“Everyday Isabella and I go into the city and have coffee and do our homework, but today Alexia came to school and got me. She drove us to the training grounds and said I had to train. But I-i quit. I don’t want to play anymore, I don’t enjoy it and only did it for Alexia but it was never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for her.” Olga grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze for me to continue. 

“I went to Isabella’s house and she had someone there. A guy, a guy that she was fucking. She was cheating on me for god knows how long. I thought everything was good with us. She was my first girlfriend and my first kiss. I lost my fucking virginity to her and she goes and fucks someone else? It just hurts. So much. Everything is hurting so much.” 

“Oh pequeño. Come here.” Olga held me tight, my tears slowly soaking her shirt. 

“Why doesn’t she love me like she loves Alba? I don’t understand.” 

“Alexia?”

“Mhm. Nothing I do is good enough. I just want her to care about me more. Why can’t she?” It broke Olga’s heart hearing me say that. She didn’t know what was happening but she knew Alexia needed to fix it and fast. 

After slowly showering, I thanked Olga and excused myself to bed. I didn’t think I had any tears left to cry but after crying for a while, I managed to pass out. 

 •———————————————————————•

After you went to your room, Olga texted Alexia, telling her she was here and safe. Alba and Alexia both rushed back to her home. Angry and worried at you, ready to both give you an ear full. 

“Where is she Olga?” Alexia came in loudly. 

“Keep your voice down. Both of you.” Olga was very firm. 

“No she’s in trouble. She doesn’t get off lightly, we have been so worried about her.” Alexia sooke back angrily, usually she’d listen to her girlfriend but this had sent her into a rage. 

“Really Ale? You’ve been worried? So worried you couldn’t train right? That you spent all night calling her friends or going to her favourite spots to try and find her?” Olga had had enough. 

“Amor that’s not fair.” 

“No you know what’s not fair? The fact that neither of you have been listening to her. She doesn’t want to play, she did it for you Ale. She wanted to make you proud of her. She hated playing but you wouldn’t know that. She loves to draw, and she’s really really good at it. She showed me all her work.” 

Olga walked to the couch, extremely disappointed with the two women standing in front of her. 

“Her girlfriend cheated on her. She found out this afternoon. She rang Jenni and Jenni messaged me. That’s how I found her. She was at the beach, heartbroken. Then when we got home, she asked why you didn’t love her Ale. She thinks you don’t care about her. That girl may have broke her heart tonight, but you broke her heart first Alexia. You’ll need to live with the fact that you were her first heartbreak.” Olga was exhausted. Neither Alexia Or Alba said anything. Both sitting in opposite ends of the lounge room, tears silently falling. 

Olga excused herself to bed, leaving the older two in the lounge room to mull on their thoughts. She promised herself after your heartbreaking confession that she would have your back through this. Whatever tomorrow held, you would face it together. 

[dollgxtz]

His Watchful Eye Pt. 4

Word Count: 11.9k

Tags: yandere!sylus, sylus x fem!reader, noncon, dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, obedience training, forced breeding, forced pregnancy, stalking, pet names like kitten, sweetie, pretty, ownership, manipulation, attempted rape, xavier appears

Taglist: @ngh-ch-choso-ahhhh, @eliasxchocolate, @nozomiaj, @xmiisuki, @sylus-kitten, @its-regretti, @m0onlustre, @ve1vet-cake @letgobro, @starkeysslvt, @yarafic, @prince-nikko, @leiaglamela, @connorsui @iluvmewwwww75 , @biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer @mysssticc @babygirl-panda19 @someone-somewheres-stuff, @zaynesjasmine1

AN: Bit of a late upload for you night owls and a nice surprise for my early risers! Someone tell me to stop making the chapters longer, thank you LOL. This chapter was a lot of fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy! This is on AO3 as usual! :D

"So… uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert. "Dog? What dog?" he said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question. "You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

Read Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.5

Xavier drummed his fingers rhythmically on the glass counter, each tap growing more impatient as the seconds stretched on. His eyes darted around the cluttered store, scanning the shelves filled with everything from worn-out sneakers to high-end dress shoes. The store clerk had disappeared into the back room several minutes ago, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Xavier wasn't entirely sure what he was hoping to find here.

He had strolled in with nothing more than a photo of a shoe print—a faint clue at best—but it felt more productive than sitting idly by, doing nothing while the answers to your disappearance slipped further out of reach. At least this was action, however uncertain.

Was this even a tangible way to find you? Was he grasping at straws, wasting precious time on a hopeless lead?

And the most haunting question of all—were you even still alive?

Xavier squeezed his eyes shut, as if closing them tightly enough could block out the flood of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind go there, not now. Pushing the fear and uncertainty away, he tried to focus on the faint glimmer of hope that had brought him here in the first place. Anything was better than surrendering to despair.

"This is all I could find on it. It's certainly a unique pair," the shop clerk continued, offering a slight smile. "I'm not as technologically advanced as most shops around here, so sorry to disappoint. But, may I ask—why come to my little shop instead of one of those fancy places downtown?"

Xavier took the pamphlet, glancing over the information quickly before shifting his gaze back to the clerk. "Well," he began, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, "I heard you were the kind of guy who could identify a pair of shoes just by its print."

The clerk chuckled softly, his weathered face creasing with the effort. "You've been a great help, actually," Xavier added, sliding the pamphlet into his jacket pocket with a nod of appreciation.

The clerk gave an approving nod, the lines of his face softening in quiet satisfaction before he turned his back again, settling into the familiar rhythm of his work. Xavier headed toward the door, the faint creak of floorboards beneath his boots echoing through the small, dimly lit shop. His hand hovered over the door handle, but just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a nagging thought rooted him in place. He paused, heart pounding slightly as the question formed in his mind.

He turned back, the weight of uncertainty pulling at his voice. "Say... you wouldn’t happen to know where this shoe was originally made, would you?"

The clerk stopped, mid-motion, his hands faltering over a pile of worn soles. The question seemed to hang in the air, drawing out a moment of silence as the man stared down, his brow furrowing. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Xavier felt a flicker of hope, unsure if it would lead him anywhere, but desperately clinging to the possibility.

The clerk finally turned, his face thoughtful, his voice quieter now. "Yeah..." he said slowly, as if pulling the memory from a fog. "Last I saw of that shoe, it came from a company based in the... er, N1—no, wait..." His brow furrowed deeper as he worked to piece it together. "N109 Zone. Yeah, that’s the one."

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight Xavier couldn’t ignore. The clerk’s tone wasn’t just casual recollection—it was tinged with something more, like the memory of that particular shoe stirred something deeper. Xavier felt the knot of tension in his chest tighten.

Xavier felt his breath catch in his throat. N109 Zone. The name alone sent a chill down his spine. He had heard plenty about that place—mostly rumors, but enough to know that it was a dangerous, lawless sector. Few dared to go there unless they had no other choice, and even fewer came back with stories worth telling. It was a no-man’s-land, a forgotten corner of land where control was lost long ago. The kind of place where people disappeared without a trace.

His mind raced, piecing it together. If the shoe had come from there... Did that mean you were there too? His stomach churned at the thought. The faint hope he had clung to started to blur with the creeping dread of what fate could have fallen upon you in the N109 Zone.

"You’re sure about that?" he asked, his voice betraying the slight anxiety creeping in around the edges. The clerk glanced up from his work, noticing the shift in Xavier’s tone.

"Yeah," the clerk said, more firmly this time. "I’m sure. That shoe—rare brand—hard to forget. The company folded years ago, but they used to operate out of the N109 Zone. Only place I’ve ever seen them sold."

Xavier swallowed hard, the words sinking deep. If the shoe came from N109, it could be a clue—a dangerous one, but still the only lead he had. He felt the urgency building inside him, a gnawing sense that time was running out, but also the undeniable question of what he might find if he went there.

Could you really be in a place like that? His mind struggled to fill in the gaps, but there were too many unknowns. Were you okay?

"I...appreciate your help," Xavier muttered, his voice thick with tension. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to steady his breathing.

"You're not actually thinking of going there, are you?" the store clerk asked, his voice edged with disbelief as he raised an eyebrow. He leaned slightly forward over the counter, studying Xavier with a mixture of concern and amusement. "No offense, but a pretty fella like you doesn’t exactly look like the type who could survive in a place like that. Not really worth the hassle for a pair of shoes don't you think?"

Xavier paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t turn around immediately, letting the weight of the clerk’s words linger for a moment. Finally, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression calm, almost casual. "I'll be fine," he said, his voice steady, though the tension in his body remained. "I've dealt with much worse."

The clerk blinked, surprised by Xavier's calm demeanor, but said nothing more.

Xavier turned to face the door once again, his hand resting on the handle as he prepared to step out into the cold streets. "Thanks again," he added, his tone carrying a finality that didn’t invite more questions.

Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door and walked out, leaving the shop behind. His heart pounded a little harder now, not just from the looming threat of the N109 Zone, but from the resolve building inside him. There was no turning back now.

He had a tangible clue—a real, solid lead to your whereabouts. For the first time in weeks, the haze of uncertainty lifted ever so slightly. But now that he knew you were possibly in one of the most dangerous areas anyone could imagine, time was no longer on his side. Every second that ticked by felt heavier, pulling him deeper into the urgency of the situation. The N109 Zone wasn’t just dangerous; it was a place where people vanished, a place where hope died. He had no time to waste, but rushing in blindly would be suicide. He needed a plan.

Stepping into the cold evening air, Xavier pulled the pamphlet from his jacket pocket, its crinkled edges soft from being handled. His eyes scanned over the contents carefully. Make and model—simple enough, not much help now. A detailed diagram of the shoe—useful for recognition, maybe, but not a lifeline. Then his eyes caught something else—a faint address printed near the top. It was partially worn, barely legible, but there.

His heart skipped a beat. An address? Could this be where the shoe was made? Or where it was sold? Either way, it was another piece of the puzzle, and right now, it was the closest thing to a breadcrumb trail he had. He squinted at the faded letters, trying to make out every detail.

If this address was in the N109 Zone, it could lead him right into the heart of the danger. But it could also lead him to you.

His mind raced. First, he needed to confirm the location. Then he needed a plan—something better than just walking straight into the N109 Zone and hoping for the best.

Pulling out his hunter’s watch, Xavier quickly scanned the address printed on the pamphlet. The small device whirred to life, its holographic screen flickering as it worked to process the faint, worn-out text. A soft ding echoed in the quiet street as it started searching for the location. Xavier watched the screen intently, his heart pounding with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

The map on the watch blinked, the dot moving erratically across an unmarked, shadowy area. It drifted back and forth, as though even the advanced technology in his hands was confused, struggling to pin down an exact location. Xavier frowned, watching the dot jitter across the screen. His stomach tightened with frustration. Was the address too old? Was it leading him nowhere?

Just when he thought the device might give up entirely, the dot paused. The holographic screen flickered once more, and with a soft chime, it glowed green in confirmation. The hunter's watch had finally locked on to a spot. Xavier stared at it, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. The place it had marked was deep within N109 Zone, tucked away in the heart of the most dangerous, uncharted part of the city.

He exhaled slowly, his mind running through a million possibilities. The watch’s confirmation meant something tangible, something real—but what waited for him there? He couldn’t shake the thought that this could be a trap, a place where the trail might lead to nothing, or worse, to more danger than he could anticipate. But it was also the only clue he had to your whereabouts.

Xavier closed his hand around the watch, feeling its faint warmth through his fingers. He knew what he had to do, but the enormity of it settled on his shoulders. This wasn’t just a simple lead anymore—it was a beacon, calling him into the depths of the N109 Zone. And whatever waited for him there, he would face it.

Because finding you was all that mattered.

As Xavier made his way through the still, empty streets back to his apartment, the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a faint, orange glow across the sky. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan. Gear, weapons,—he’d need everything ready before venturing into the N109 Zone.

But just as he turned the corner, his phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through the early morning quiet. Xavier stopped, his brow furrowing as he fished the phone out of his pocket. It was a jarring sound—no one should be calling him at this early hour.

He glanced at the screen, squinting in confusion. The number was unknown, unfamiliar. His immediate thought was Captain Jenna—she was the only one who’d be up this early, possibly reaching out with new intel—but this wasn’t her number.

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Unknown number. His instincts screamed caution. In his line of work, random calls at odd hours rarely led to anything good. The number could belong to anyone—a lead, a warning, or worse, a trap.

But then again, it could be something important—something connected to you. He couldn't ignore the possibility.

Should he answer? The phone rang again, and with each buzz, the knot of uncertainty in his stomach tightened. Whoever it was, they wanted to reach him badly enough to call at this ungodly hour.

With a deep breath, Xavier made a decision and swiped to answer the call. "Hello?" His voice was guarded, careful.

For a moment, all Xavier could hear was silence, a thick void that made his pulse quicken. Then, suddenly, the sound of crackling static filled his ears, distorting the line. He frowned, his grip tightening on the phone. The static grew louder, chaotic, until it was abruptly interrupted by a voice—scared, desperate, and unmistakably familiar.

"Xavier? Is that you??"

His heart nearly stopped.

You kept running until your legs gave out, your breath ragged and chest burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not yet. An hour ago, you had been trapped, bound in your captor's suffocating bedroom, that thick invisible leash tightening around your neck with each passing day, stealing your hope, your strength. Every second felt like eternity in that room, but somehow, with some luck of a power outage of all things, you’d broken out of your cage. You’d ran—bolted into the cold night without looking back.

And now, you were almost free.

But “freedom” wasn’t what you had imagined. The streets stretched out before you, bleak and lifeless. It felt wrong. There was no joy in the air, no welcoming breeze to assure you of safety—only the gnawing sense that you had escaped one cage just to enter another. You recalled something Sylus, your captor, had mentioned in passing.

"Its always 'night' here", he'd said with a small smile, and now you truly realized he hadn’t been lying.

Darkness swallowed the entire area, a thick, unnatural veil over everything. Even though your eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, the eerie, half-flickering streetlights cast only dim pools of sickly yellow across the cracked pavement. The shadows loomed, stretching too far, hiding too much. You shivered, not just from the cold but from the haunting silence that wrapped around you.

The air itself felt thick, as if it was suffocating under the weight of secrets too dark, too dangerous to be spoken aloud. Each alley you passed felt like it was watching you, whispering silent threats from the shadows. Exhaustion clung to your limbs, and you had finally stopped, collapsing onto a broken bench under one of the few flickering streetlights that still worked. The cold metal dug into your skin, but you barely noticed. You were too busy trying to catch your breath, to steady your thoughts.

Where do you go now? You scanned your surroundings again, looking for anything that could offer direction, but the streets were as desolate as before. The same cracked pavement, the same looming shadows. No signs. No people. Just an eerie quiet.

A fleeting thought entered your mind—maybe there’s a train station nearby? The idea seemed almost laughable. Would it even take you to Linkon? And would you even make it to a station without getting caught?

You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for the thought. Hitchhiking was another idea that crossed your mind—no way, you scolded yourself, brushing off the notion as quickly as it came. You probably couldn't trust anyone here. Not in a place like this. Here, trusting a stranger was as reckless as running blind into the dark.

But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t stay still for long; resting too much would make you an easy target. With a deep, shuddering breath, you forced yourself to stand again. Your legs trembled beneath you, but you kept moving, hoping—praying—you’d find someone who wasn’t out to harm you. Something that could help guide you out of this nightmare. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of fear pressing harder on your chest.

As your bare feet dragged across the cracked concrete, the desperation gnawed at you more fiercely. You were lost—physically and mentally. Each street looked the same, the darkness playing tricks on your eyes. Panic swelled in your throat. How long could you keep going like this? How much longer could you walk before your legs gave out? Before someone found you?

Your breaths came quicker, shallow with fear. You needed a way out, but the deeper you walked into the N109 Zone, the more it felt like the place was swallowing you whole. You were running out of time. Running out of hope.

And then finally, as if the cruel universe had decided to grant you another fleeting moment of mercy, you saw it—a faint glow of lights in the distance. Squinting, you could just make out a corner store, its soft, artificial light spilling onto the cracked sidewalk. A few people were loitering outside, giving the place a rare sense of life. A tired-looking woman clutched her child's hand tightly, and a man stood by, lazily smoking a cigar, his eyes scanning the street in disinterest. A couple of others hovered nearby, exchanging quiet words under the dim streetlight.

You couldn't believe your eyes. A store? Here? In the N109 Zone? It seemed almost surreal, like it had been plucked from another world and dropped into this forgotten wasteland. But it made sense in a grim way. Even in a place like this, people have to eat. Make a living.

With a rush of desperate energy, you hurried toward the store, your bare feet slapping against the cold pavement. The people outside cast looks in your direction, but don't say anything. You stopped just short of the entrance, glancing down at yourself for the first time. You must look insane. A nightgown hung loosely around your body, dirty and torn at the edges. No shoes. No socks. Your hair was tangled and wild from the running. The sight of yourself made you wince in embarrassment, but there was no time to care about that now.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a dimly lit but surprisingly ordinary scene. The inside of the corner store looked like any other—aisles of candy, snacks, cheap knick knacks and toys stacked high. It was a stark contrast to the dangerous, shadowy streets just outside. But one sight caught your attention above all: the food.

Your stomach growled loudly, twisting with hunger. You hadn’t eaten since the chicken dinner Sylus had provided before your “outburst.” You hadn't been able to finish it, and now the exhaustion from running had made the hunger almost unbearable. Your mouth watered at the thought of eating, but there was one major problem—you had no gold.

Your heart sank as you stared at the rows of candy bars and instant noodles. How were you going to get anything?

Anxiously, you shuffled toward the front counter, your nerves jangling with every step. When you reached it, you hesitated for a moment, staring at the small bell. With trembling fingers, you tapped it.

A disheveled-looking man, his hair sticking out in uneven tufts, glanced up from behind the counter. He had been glued to his phone, and the interruption clearly annoyed him. His eyes landed on you, and for a brief second, he just stared, taking in your disarrayed appearance before rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Can I...help you?" he asked, dragging out the words as if the very act of speaking was a burden.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, but your mind raced with too many conflicting emotions—fear, embarrassment, hunger. What could you even say?

"I've been kidnapped," you blurt out, your voice shaky and desperate. You opened your mouth to explain further, to tell him everything—how you had escaped, how you were on the run, how you needed help—but before you could get another word out, the man snorted.

"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said dismissively, leaning back on his chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Who hasn't been kidnapped at least once around here?"

His casual tone hit you like a slap. The raw urgency in your voice was met with nothing but apathy. Your heart sank. He wasn’t going to take you seriously. You were just another story in a place like this, another desperate face with nowhere to go. You stood there, frozen, trying to comprehend how someone could be so indifferent to your situation.

You swallowed hard, fighting back the frustration welling up inside you. "Please, I'm serious. I just need—"

"Look," the man interrupted, cutting you off again, his eyes barely lifting from his phone. "You want something, buy it. Otherwise, move along. I’m not here for charity cases."

You glanced at the counter, the rows of candy, snacks, and drinks just inches away, knowing you had nothing to pay with. Desperation clawed at your insides. You were exhausted, starving, and running out of options.

"I don't have any gold... do you ha-have a phone?" you asked again, your voice trembling as you blinked back the hot tears threatening to spill. How could someone be so indifferent to the obvious suffering staring him in the face?

"Broken," he said flatly, still not bothering to look up from his phone. His disinterest was like a physical blow. "And… gold? What are you, some Linkcunt citizen?"

The venom in his words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. Linkcunt citizen? The insult was harsh, dripping with disdain, and it sent a sudden wave of anger rushing through you.

"Yes, I’m from Linkon," you correct, the frustration and fear bubbling over into your voice. "What’s with the attitude? What did I do to you? I'm asking for help!"

He finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t friendly. It was mocking.

"What did you do? Nothing. That’s the problem. Linkon folk come down here thinking they’re better than everyone, tossing around their fancy gold and expecting the world to hand them everything." He shook his head, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt.

"You want help? Then you’d better figure out how things work around here real fast, princess. No one's gonna hand you anything for free."

You felt your fists clench at his words, the anger mixing with a deeper sense of helplessness. You hadn’t asked to be here. You hadn’t asked for any of this. And yet, standing in this grimy corner store in the depths of the N109 Zone, it was clear that no one cared about your suffering. Not here. You weren’t in Linkon anymore.

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to calm down, swallowing the anger rising in your throat. Getting into a fight with this clerk wouldn’t help you, not now. But the bitterness of his words lingered, and you realized just how alone you truly were in this place.

Silently, you turned your back to the greasy man behind the counter, his words still echoing in your mind as you began to walk up and down the aisles. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of hunger, thirst, and sheer exhaustion pulling at you. Your stomach growled, gnawing at your insides, reminding you just how long it had been since you'd eaten.

But something else gnawed at you too—something that made your skin crawl with discomfort. You hadn't changed your pad for hours, and now the sticky, damp feeling clung uncomfortably between your legs. The sudden realization hit you, a wave of disgust washing over you as you winced.

Swallowing hard, you glanced over toward the feminine hygiene aisle. Rows of necessities lined the shelves—pads, tampons, basic supplies—just out of reach. You stared at them, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't just food you needed now. You couldn’t go on like this.

But you had no credit cards. No way to purchase anything. Nothing.

Your eyes flicked back toward the front of the store, where the disinterested clerk sat, still engrossed in his phone. He wasn’t paying attention to you. He didn’t care. Nobody here did.

You felt a knot tighten in your throat as the harsh reality of the situation settled in. You had to steal. There was no other choice. You hated the thought of it—hated how low it made you feel—but survival wasn’t a matter of pride. Not here. Not now.

Your fingers trembled as you looked back at the shelves. You knew what you had to do.

The clerk still wasn’t paying attention, his face lit by the glow of his phone. His indifference might be your only saving grace. You could do this—quickly, quietly, and then you’d be gone.

With shaky hands you reach for a plastic bag that had fallen on the ground. The bag felt like a shield, something to hide the weight of what you were about to do. You didn’t think twice as you moved toward the feminine hygiene aisle, knowing you couldn’t walk any further in your current state. You reached for a pack of pads, your movements slow and deliberate. Your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that it felt like the entire store could hear it.

Next, you hurried down the snack aisle, grabbing a few protein bars, a small bag of chips, and a bottle of water, all of which disappeared into the bag as your pulse raced in your ears.

You glanced toward the counter, your body tense with anxiety. The clerk still hadn’t looked up, completely absorbed in his phone. The faint, unmistakable sound of pornography drifted from his speakers, making your stomach churn in disgust. You twisted your face, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.

He was utterly oblivious to your frantic movements, his attention locked on the screen, but that didn't ease the gnawing sensation in your gut. Every step felt like you were tiptoeing across a minefield, a ticking clock counting down to disaster. Even though he wasn’t watching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was.

With the bag now heavy in your hands, you made your way toward the exit, each step carefully measured, your breath shallow as you fought to keep calm. The distance between you and the door seemed endless, as if every inch stretched into miles. But finally, your trembling hand closed around the cold metal of the handle.

Your heart raced as you crossed the threshold, bracing yourself for the inevitable—a shrill, deafening alarm that would shatter the silence and expose your crime to the world. You waited for it, your breath caught in your throat, ready to bolt at the first sound.

But nothing came.

No alarm. No piercing siren. The only thing you could hear was the frantic beating of your own heart as the door swung shut behind you with a quiet click.

For a moment, you stood there, frozen in place, not daring to move. The cool night air brushed against your skin, grounding you in the eerie quiet. The world outside the store felt impossibly still. It took a few seconds for your brain to register that you had made it out—unseen, unheard.

You swallowed hard, keeping your head down as you hurried past the few patrons lingering near the store. Their eyes followed your every step, and you could feel their gazes crawling over you, judging, curious. Did they happen to care, or did you just look that insane?

The woman with the child pulled her daughter closer as you passed, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. The man smoking his cigar gave you a long, leering stare, as if trying to figure out what your story was. The others whispered quietly among themselves, but you couldn’t make out the words, nor did you want to. You kept walking, willing yourself to be invisible, but the tension in the air made your skin prickle.

Once you were a safe distance away from the store, you ducked down an empty alley, the shadows wrapping around you like a cloak. The world outside was still bleak, the flickering streetlights casting only the faintest glow, but here in the quiet, you finally had a moment to breathe.

You found a relatively clean spot, tucked behind an old dumpster, and set the bag down beside you. Your hands shook as you reached into the bag for the pack of pads. The discomfort and itch between your legs had grown unbearable, and the relief of changing, even in such a grim place, was something you couldn't put off any longer.

Quickly, you adjusted yourself, wincing at the feeling of the old pad peeling away. You worked fast, knowing you couldn’t linger here for long. Once you were done, you felt a small sense of relief—at least one problem had been solved.

Next, you pulled out the snacks. The hunger was still clawing at you, and the sight of the protein bars and chips made your stomach ache even more. Tearing into a protein bar, you ate quickly, barely tasting the food as you devoured it, desperate to fuel your exhausted body. The bottle of water came next, and you drank it down in large, gulping swallows.

For the first time since you had escaped, you felt a flicker of calm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last, but here in this dark corner, with food in your stomach and a small bit of comfort, you allowed yourself a brief moment to breathe.

But the quiet didn’t last. You knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. You had to get moving at some point or Sylus would find you. This place was unforgiving, and survival demanded more than just temporary refuge.

Tucking the remaining items back into the bag, you sigh in satisfaction, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. The streets were still empty. For now, you were alone. You had survived one more step in this nightmare, but you knew it wasn’t over yet.

Some time passes and you can slowly feel yourself falling asleep against the dumpster.

As you crouched in the dim alley, trying to fight off exhaustion and gather your thoughts, the sound of footsteps broke the silence. Slow, steady, and casual, accompanied by a faint, off-key whistling. You stiffened, instinctively pulling the bag closer to your chest.

The footsteps stopped just a few feet away, and then came the voice—low, cautious, but curious.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up warily, your eyes landing on the figure standing at the mouth of the alley. He was tall, maybe in his mid-thirties, with shaggy, unkempt brown hair that fell just above his eyes. His clothes were worn—faded jeans and a jacket that had seen better days—but he didn’t look like the rough types you usually imagined when you thought of the N109 Zone. His posture was relaxed, hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his sharp, dark eyes were fixed on you, a flicker of concern—or maybe something else—dancing behind them.

His face was hard to read. He had a slight stubble covering his jaw, giving him a rugged, almost tired appearance. His lips quirked in what might’ve been a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you—like he was curious, but also sizing you up. Not in an aggressive way, but in a way that made you wonder why he’d stopped to talk to you at all.

"Are you... lost?" he asked, stepping forward slowly, the whistling tune dying in the air. His voice was softer now, almost as if he was trying to be gentle, but his presence made the space around you feel even smaller.

"What happened to your arm?"

You swallowed hard, trying your best to keep your gaze on him. You had honestly completely forgotten about the scar on you arm. As much as you wanted to explain, every instinct screamed to stay wary. This wasn’t a place where strangers helped out of kindness, and you knew better than to trust easily. But as exhausted and desperate as you were, you weren’t sure if you could afford to push away help, even from someone who might have their own agenda.

"I—I need help," you stammered, your voice shaky, barely managing to push the words past your tightening throat. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and exhaustion leaving you on edge. You hugged the bag tighter to your chest, every muscle in your body tense. "But... don't come any closer just yet."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting, though he made no move forward. He stayed where he was, his hands still in his pockets, the dim streetlight casting long shadows on his face. For a moment, there was silence, the air thick with tension as he watched you.

"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and even, though the curiosity in his eyes never wavered. He tilted his head, taking in your ragged appearance with a deeper interest. "No problem. I’m not here to scare you. Just trying to figure out what you're doing out here all alone."

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You needed help, but trust was a dangerous thing in a place like this. Still, you were running out of options. Your mind raced as you tried to decide what to say next.

You hesitated, your mind racing as you weighed the risks. Could you trust him? Telling the truth might make you vulnerable, but lying wouldn’t get you far either. You had to say something—anything—to explain why you were here.

"I was kidnapped," you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Your voice wavered, a tremor of fear running through you as you spoke. "I escaped… I don’t know where I am. I just need to get somewhere safe and rest so I can get home later."

The man’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He studied you, eyes narrowing as if trying to assess whether or not you were telling the truth. His silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, making your heart pound faster in your chest.

"You’re serious?" he finally asked, his tone more subdued now, almost disbelieving but not dismissive. He took a small step back, showing that he wasn’t going to invade your space. "You really got away from someone?"

You nodded, the tension in your body still coiled tight, waiting for his reaction. You couldn't tell if he believed you, but you hoped—desperately—that he wouldn’t press too hard or turn you away.

The man stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes scanning your face, as if trying to read the truth in your expression. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his posture softening just slightly.

"Alright," he said, his voice low but firm. "If you're telling the truth... then you’ve got bigger problems than just being lost."

He glanced around, checking the street behind him as if making sure no one else was nearby, then he looked back at you, his face more serious now. "You can’t stay out here. This place— the N109 Zone—it’s not somewhere you want to be wandering around alone, especially if someone’s looking for you."

You felt a shiver run down your spine. You already knew the N109 Zone was dangerous, but hearing it from him made it feel even more real.

"Look," he continued, his voice softening. "I’m not gonna hurt you. If you need help, I can take you somewhere safer. But you’ve gotta trust me, and you’ve gotta move quick. If they’re after you, it’s only a matter of time before they find you out here."

He waited, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to see if you’d accept his offer—or run.

You hesitated for a long moment, scanning the man’s face for any sign of deceit. His expression was calm, almost unnervingly so, but something about his demeanor made you feel that, for now, you didn’t have much of a choice. If he meant harm, he could’ve acted already. Swallowing hard, you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ll come with you.”

He nodded in return, offering nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning and motioning for you to follow. "My place isn’t far. You can rest there, maybe clean up a bit. It’ll give you a few hours before you have to figure out what’s next."

You fell in step behind him, your bare feet quiet against the cracked pavement. The streets were eerily silent, save for the occasional distant hum of passing cars. You hugged the bag closer to your chest, still tense but too tired to think about running. As you walked through the dim streets, a question lingered in the back of your mind.

"I'm surprised you stopped to help me," you finally said, your voice tentative. "Most people here…they wouldn’t have even looked twice."

He glanced back at you, barely breaking stride, and shrugged. "I’ve seen worse things in this place. Trust me, a girl lost in an alley isn't the strangest thing I’ve come across." His tone was casual, almost detached, as if this was just another day in the chaotic world of the N109 Zone.

His nonchalance unnerved you. Why was he so calm? Your anxiety spiked for a moment, thoughts racing. Maybe you had made the wrong choice. Maybe he had his own agenda, like everyone else in this place. But then again, he hadn’t tried to harm you. If he wanted to, he would've done so. You weighed your options, feeling the tug of paranoia, but exhaustion and desperation had their hold. You pushed the doubt aside. For now, you decided to trust him, even if only for a few hours.

As you walked in silence, the two of you eventually came across something you hadn’t expected to see: an old, grimy phone booth, its glass cracked but still intact, standing at the edge of a corner. A relic from another time, long since forgotten by most.

Your heart skipped a beat. A phone. You might be able to call Xavier.

"Do you have any… uh, quarters?" you asked, your voice tight with desperation. You hadn’t thought about it before, but now it seemed obvious. Linkon City had long left behind the need for such old currency—everything there was digital, clean, modern. But here, in the N109 Zone, where everything felt stuck in time, of course they still used quarters. It made sense in this broken-down world.

He stopped, watching you for a moment before sighing. "Yeah, hang on." He fumbled in his pockets for a few seconds, fishing around with a slight look of annoyance. After a bit of clattering, he pulled out a few quarters, handing them over to you without a word.

Your hands trembled as you took them. This could be your chance—your lifeline. You stepped inside the booth, hoping that the old machine would still work, and stared at the dirty receiver.

You stared at the old rotary dial for a moment, panic rising in your chest. You tried to remember how it worked as you slipped the coins in the slot. It had been so long since you’d read about one of these—everything in Linkon was sleek, touch-based, connected by the web. But here, in this forgotten part of the world, you were holding a piece of the past. The process felt foreign, archaic.

Your mind raced, desperately trying to recall Xavier’s number. What was it? You racked your brain, images of his scribbled phone number from messages, fragments of conversations, all blurred together. The numbers danced in your head as you tried to piece them together.

Your heart pounded louder, matching the beat of the seconds slipping away. You were running out of time. With a trembling hand, you began dialing the numbers, trying to focus on every movement, praying you’d gotten it right.

The dial clicked as it spun back after each number, the mechanical sound unnervingly slow. The receiver crackled in your ear as the phone began to ring.

Please, Xavier... please pick up.

The ringing felt endless, each second a heavier weight pressing on your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping the receiver tight. The noise around you seemed to fade into the background as you waited, hoping, praying that on the other end of the line, he’d be there—ready to hear you, ready to help.

The phone rang again... and again.

Your breath caught in your throat, a prayer hanging on the edge of each ring.

"Hello?" A timid, cautious male voice came through the receiver, muffled by the crackling static, but it was unmistakable.

Relief crashed over you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed right there in the grimy phone booth, your knees buckling as the sound of Xavier's voice reached your ears. After everything—you finally had a connection to him. Tears welled up in your eyes, your breath shaky as you clutched the receiver tighter.

"Xavier!! Xavier, thank god!" you cried, your voice raw with desperation. "I don't even know where to start..."

But after your outburst, only silence greeted you. The line crackled, sputtering with age, the static drowning out whatever response might have come. Frustration surged through you as you gripped the receiver, shaking it in a vain attempt to clear the line. You banged the phone against the booth, biting back a sob as the interference persisted. This thing must be older than you thought. How could it fail you now?

Finally, the crackling stopped, leaving only a tense, quiet hum on the other end.

"Xavier? Is that you??" you asked, your voice trembling, barely holding back the panic. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing this fragile connection—this one thin lifeline.

The line crackled for a moment before Xavier’s voice came through, steady and calm, but with a layer of unmistakable relief.

"It’s you…," Xavier said, his voice soft but firm, as if he’d been holding onto hope for so long that hearing your voice felt like a lifeline. "I’m so glad you’re alive. Are you okay? Where are you?"

The sound of his voice sent another wave of emotion crashing over you. You sob, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t alone. He had been looking for you, and now, he was coming.

"Xavier…I was kidnapped," you sobbed, the words finally breaking free, the fear and terror of the last few days pouring out. "I escaped. I’m cold, hurt and scared..."

His response was immediate, his tone both calming and steady, as if he was trying to comfort you even from miles away. "I’m here now. I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? I’m coming for you. I just need a better idea of where you are."

You took a shaky breath, trying to keep it together, but the tears threatened to spill over. "I don’t know where exactly… all I know is I’m in the N109 Zone. I found a phone booth near a corner store. Everything around here looks abandoned."

There was a brief pause on the other end as Xavier processed the information. "Alright," he said firmly. "Stay there, I'll try and track the location of the phone booth. I’m on my way. Just… hold on a little longer, okay?"

"I—" you hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the man who had helped you. "I actually found a really nice man. He’s letting me rest at his place. He hasn’t hurt me at all, so don’t worry. He says his place isn’t far from here. I’ll come back to the phone and give you the details after I see it."

Xavier’s voice tightened slightly, the concern clear. "I don’t like the sound of that. Just… be careful. I’m coming as fast as I can. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, alright? If anything feels wrong, leave. Fight like hell if you need to."

"I will," you whispered, gripping the receiver tightly. "Just hurry, please."

"I promise I’m coming," Xavier said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. He paused, just for a second, before continuing. "One more thing though—do you remember who took you? I’ll need a name, in case…in case I don't find you when I arrive. I don’t want to lose you again."

Your heart raced as memories of your captor flashed in your mind. "Yeah! His name is S—"

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for an additional 3 minutes," the automated voice cut in sharply, drowning out your words.

Panic surged through you. The call had abruptly ended, the receiver in your hand now silent except for the monotonous prompt asking for more coins. You frantically searched your pockets, but you had no more quarters.

"Your time is up. Please enter more quarters for—"

You screamed, the frustration boiling over as you kicked the phone, the clanging metal reverberating through the phone booth. Your hand gripped the receiver so tightly your knuckles lost circulation, and with a final surge of anger, you thrashed against the booth, the tears you’d been holding back now streaming down your face.

"Xavier!?" you yelled into the dead line, your voice cracking with desperation. He had to hear you. He had to. But all that came through was the cold, indifferent tone of the automated voice, endlessly repeating its demand for more quarters, as if mocking your panic.

You slammed the receiver down, the booth suddenly feeling too small, too suffocating. Every second that ticked by was a second lost, a moment Xavier might not know who had taken you, might not know how to find you.

With a deep, shaky breath, you stepped out of the booth, blinking away the tears.

"Do...you have any more quarters?" you ask, more tears threatening to spill from your face at any moment now.

The man outside the phone booth shifted awkwardly and shook his head, his eyes flickering between you and the dark street. He had watched you from the moment you’d rushed into the booth, but now, as you sobbed, his discomfort was clear. He took a slow step forward, clearing his throat, but didn’t say anything at first, unsure of what to do.

"You, uh... you okay?" he asked finally, his voice soft but uneasy. He scratched the back of his neck, glancing around as if he wasn’t used to being in such an emotional situation.

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, but the tears kept coming. The overwhelming frustration of losing the connection with Xavier left you feeling exposed and helpless. You didn’t know what to say to the man, couldn’t find the words to explain the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

He hesitated, then sighed, taking another step closer. "Look, uh… if it’s about the call, I’m sure your guy’s coming. Sounds like he cares. You just... you know, gotta hang in there. We’ll get to my place soon, and you can rest."

His words, though clumsy, were an attempt at comfort. But even as he tried to reassure you, his uncertainty showed in the way he avoided your gaze, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle someone breaking down in front of him.

You sniffed, nodding slightly, feeling drained from the outburst. "Yeah… yeah, I’ll be fine," you muttered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your nightgown, though you weren’t sure you believed it.

The two of you resumed walking, your steps slow and heavy as you sniffled, trying to hold back the tears that still threatened to spill. The man walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, glancing at you now and then with an awkwardness that was hard to miss. He wasn’t saying much, just occasionally looking around as if he wished there was something more he could do, but he seemed completely out of his depth when it came to comforting anyone, let alone a woman on the verge of breaking down.

"You’ll, uh, feel better once we get there," he mumbled, his voice low and sheepish. "It’s not much, but at least you can get some sleep. Maybe eat something."

You nodded, biting your lip as you fought to compose yourself, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you again. The air between you felt thick, filled with unspoken words and awkward tension. He kept glancing at you as if he wanted to say something more, but each time, he swallowed the words, guiding you quietly through the darkened streets.

The city around you was eerily quiet, the desolation of the N109 Zone even more pronounced in the silence. The flickering streetlights barely illuminated your path, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked pavement. You hugged your arms close to your body, your mind still reeling from the failed call, but you focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.

The man cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "I’m… not really good at this kind of thing, you know," he admitted, his tone awkward, almost apologetic. "But you’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it."

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. His words were clumsy, but there was a strange sincerity in them. Despite his unease, it seemed like he really was trying to help, even if he didn’t quite know how to do it.

As the silence stretched on, the weight of everything hanging between you, you glanced at him through the dim light. His awkwardness, his uncertainty—it was all so clear. But despite everything, he had helped you. He had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go. Given you the last of his quarters. You swallowed, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"I didn’t catch your name, by the way," you said softly, your voice still a little shaky.

He blinked, as if surprised you’d asked. His steps slowed for a moment before he gave a small, awkward shrug. "Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I didn’t say." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the ground as he seemed to search for the right words. "It’s Reese," he finally muttered. "Not much of a name, but it’s mine."

You offered a small, tired smile, your voice soft. "Reese… thanks for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if—" You stopped yourself, the weight of your situation pressing on your chest again.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye and gave a sheepish nod. "Yeah, well… I’m no hero. Just didn’t seem right to leave you out there. Not in a place like this."

As the two of you walked in silence, Reese cleared his throat, glancing over at you with a bit more confidence than before. "So… what’s your name? Figured if we’re gonna be walking together, I should know who I’m helping."

You hesitated, your heart racing slightly. Trust wasn’t something you could afford so easily, not here, not now. Despite his awkward attempts to help, you weren’t ready to give him your real name. Better to be cautious, you reminded yourself. You forced a small smile, trying to keep your voice steady.

"It’s...Mephisto," you said, the lie rolling off your tongue before you could second-guess it. You had vaguely remembered Sylus calling out the name to someone from outside the door, to who you weren't sure. One of his men probably.

Reese nodded, seemingly taking your answer at face value, no suspicion in his expression. "Alright," he said, giving a half-smile. "Nice to meet you Miss Mephisto, despite the strange name."

You nodded back, feeling the weight of the lie settle inside you. It wasn’t much, but it gave you a small layer of protection—just in case. You still didn’t know Reese’s full intentions, and trust here could be a dangerous thing.

"Nice to meet you too, Reese," you replied softly, glancing around the darkened street.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the dark, desolate streets of the N109 Zone, you and Reese finally reached his place. The house stood at the end of a narrow alley, tucked between two crumbling, abandoned buildings. It wasn’t much to look at—dingy, with peeling paint and windows that seemed to have long lost their clarity. The front door sagged slightly on its hinges, the wood scuffed and weathered, as if it had seen better days a long time ago.

Reese unlocked the door with a bit of effort, pushing it open with a low creak. Inside, the air was stale but warm, a stark contrast to the cold outside. The place was small, cluttered, and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. The furnishings were old, mismatched, and worn—a threadbare couch sat in the corner, covered in a faded blanket. The walls were bare except for a few crooked picture frames, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Still, despite its grimy appearance, there was a strange sense of comfort to the place, like someone had lived here for a long time and had made it home in their own way.

"You can sit over there if you want," Reese said, motioning to the couch. "It’s not much, but it’s better than the streets."

You nodded, stepping inside cautiously. Your eyes scanned the room, taking in the details—the scuffed coffee table with a few empty bottles on it, the stack of old magazines piled up against one wall. It didn’t scream danger, but you couldn’t shake the wary feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Something about the whole situation made you uneasy. Maybe it was the dim lighting, the smell of old dust, or just the lingering doubt about trusting someone so easily in a place like this.

Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on your body, and the promise of rest—any rest—was too tempting to ignore. You sat down on the couch, the worn cushions sinking under you, and pulled the bag of pads closer to your chest. Reese seemed harmless enough, but you reminded yourself to stay on guard. You weren’t out of danger yet.

Reese busied himself, tossing a few items around to clear space, but the house remained eerily quiet.

As you settled into the couch, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible, a sudden noise from the backyard broke the uneasy silence. It was faint, but distinct—a thud, followed by the faint sound of something shuffling or dragging. Your heart leapt, and you sat up a little straighter, your eyes darting toward the back of the house.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice tense as you turned to look at Reese.

He froze for a split second, the calm, awkward demeanor you’d come to expect from him faltering. His eyes widened slightly, and he gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, that?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "It’s just… my dog. Yeah, he’s in the shed out back. I forgot to mention him earlier."

You watched him closely, feeling the tension spike in the room. There was something off about the way he said it, the quickness in his tone as if he were scrambling to come up with an explanation.

"Your dog?" you repeated, trying to keep your voice steady, though doubt gnawed at the back of your mind.

"Yeah," he said, nodding a bit too enthusiastically. "He’s old, doesn’t like people much, so I keep him out there. No big deal."

His words didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You stared at him for a moment longer, weighing his response, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. The uneasy feeling from earlier returned, stronger this time, creeping up your spine.

"Right," you muttered, still watching him carefully, but you decided not to push further. Not yet.

"Um... coffee?" Reese blurted out suddenly, his voice still laced with that nervous edge. He offered a forced smile, clearly trying to redirect the tension hanging thick in the air. He rubbed his hands together, glancing toward the small, cluttered kitchen. "I could make us some. Might help, you know, after everything you’ve been through."

You hesitated, still on edge from the strange noise outside and his quick, jittery explanation. Something didn’t feel right, but you weren’t sure if pushing him now would help or only make things worse. You forced a smile of your own, your mind still racing with questions.

"Sure," you said quietly, your voice flat as you tried to calm your nerves. "Coffee sounds good."

Reese nodded, too eagerly, and moved toward the kitchen, fumbling with an old coffee pot. The clattering of cups and the rush of water filled the silence, but your mind was still focused on that noise outside. A dog in the shed? It seemed like a weak excuse, but you didn’t know him well enough to push it.

You leaned back into the couch, the worn fabric sinking beneath you as your eyes drifted toward the back door. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe Reese wasn’t telling you everything. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were exhausted, but you couldn't let your guard down.

Reese finished brewing the coffee after a few moments, bringing it over to you in a green, cracked mug. You took it from him with a polite smile, setting it down on the coffee table untouched. The steam curled up from the cup, filling the small room with the faint scent of stale coffee. Reese sat across from you, sipping from his own mug, but you couldn’t help but notice how distracted he seemed.

He kept glancing toward the window, then back at his watch, over and over. Each time, his face tensed a little more, as though he were expecting something—or someone. Your wariness only grew.

What is he looking for?

The air felt thick with unspoken tension, and your mind raced, trying to piece together what was happening. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the noise in the backyard wasn’t as innocent as he’d made it sound.

"So…uh, what’s your dog’s name?" you asked, trying to keep up the conversation and maybe get him to reveal more. Your voice was casual, but inside, your nerves were on high alert.

"Dog? What dog?" Reese said absentmindedly, his eyes still glued to the window. His response was automatic, dismissive, as if he hadn’t even registered the question.

"You...said that noise earlier was your dog? Right?"

A few moments passed in uncomfortable silence, and then you saw it—realization hit him like a brick. His eyes widened as he turned to look at you, panic flickering across his face.

You sat up straighter, your heart starting to race. He’d lied. And now he knew you knew.

"Uh, I mean—" he stammered, his voice shaky, "I meant, uh, Rex. Yeah, his name’s Rex. Sorry, I’m just… distracted." He forced a weak smile, but the panic was still there, clear as day. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

You shifted uncomfortably, the tension in the room thickening with every second that passed after Reese's panicked slip. His eyes kept darting between you and the window, as if something outside demanded his attention. Your pulse quickened as the uneasy feeling deepened. Something wasn’t right, and you knew you had to get out of there.

"I should…go," you said, forcing a smile as you slowly stood up, trying to keep your voice casual. "Y'know... Xavier’s probably found the phone booth by now. I should go back and meet him."

Reese blinked, his expression tightening for a split second. The forced calm he'd been trying to maintain wavered as he set his mug down on the table a little too quickly, the clink of the ceramic against wood echoing in the silence. "Go? Already?" He scratched the back of his neck again, his voice strained. "I mean, it’s cold, and it’s not safe out there… Maybe you should wait a little longer."

You swallowed hard, feeling the anxiety rising in your chest. Every instinct told you to get out, but you had to keep your cool. "Thanks for the coffee and everything, but I don’t want Xavier to worry," you replied, taking a step toward the door. "I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse, remember?"

Reese stood up as well, his movements stiff, like he was trying to decide whether to stop you. His gaze flickered toward the window again, and his voice dropped. "Yeah, I get it. But, uh… maybe just a few more minutes. You don’t want to be out there alone, do you?"

You glanced toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The unease that had been lurking beneath the surface now felt like a solid weight pressing down on you. Something was very wrong, and you needed to leave—now.

"No, I’m leaving. Thank you for everything, but I need to go," you said, your voice steady despite the panic bubbling under the surface. You tried to move past Reese, your eyes focused on the door, your heart pounding with the hope of reaching it before things got worse.

But then Reese stepped in front of you, his whole demeanor changing in an instant. "No," he said flatly, his voice suddenly devoid of the awkwardness and sheepishness he’d shown before. His tone was cold, almost emotionless, as he closed the distance between you with startling speed.

Before you could react, you felt it—the cold press of metal against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body froze as the unmistakable sensation of a gun pressed hard into your skin.

"You're not going anywhere," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. His earlier nervousness was completely gone, replaced by something dark and dangerous. "Sit back down."

Your heart raced, your mind scrambling for a way out, but all you could feel was the sharp edge of fear coursing through you. You swallowed hard, trying not to move too quickly, knowing that with one wrong step, things could spiral even further out of control.

"Reese… please," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice from shaking. "You don’t have to do this."

His eyes flickered with something—anger, desperation—but his grip on the gun didn’t waver. "Just sit down, and no one has to get hurt."

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but for now, all you could do was comply and hope that Xavier was still coming for you.

"I promised them a girl..." Reese muttered, his voice trembling slightly, though the gun still pressed firmly against your neck as you looked up at him from the couch. He glanced away from you, his guilt briefly flickering in his eyes. "Then you just... happened to be there. Right place, wrong time, I guess. So...this is how it has to be."

His words hung in the air, cold and final.

"I’m sorry," he added, though there was no comfort in his apology—just a hollow attempt at easing his own conscience.

Your breath hitched as you tried to process his words, the full weight of the situation crushing down on you. He wasn’t just some awkward guy helping you out of kindness. He had been waiting for someone—anyone—to fill a promise. And you had walked right into it.

As you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your neck, the door creaked open. Another man stepped into the room. He was taller than Reese, with a thick, rough appearance—his face shadowed by the dim light. His eyes swept the room, landing on you, taking in the situation with a detached indifference.

"Is this the girl you promised?" the man asked, his voice low and gruff, as if he’d been through this kind of scene too many times to be surprised by it. His gaze shifted briefly to Reese, then back to you, narrowing with interest.

You felt a chill run down your spine as his question hung in the air.

Reese didn’t move the gun from your neck, but you could feel the tension in his body shift as he glanced over at the man, clearly nervous about his arrival. "Yeah, this is her," Reese replied, his voice tight. "I just… need a few more minutes to get her to cooperate."

The other man stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor. His eyes raked over you, cold and calculating. "No time for that," he said flatly. "Get her in the basement. You know how this works, Reese."

Your pulse quickened, fear gripping you tighter as you looked from one man to the other, your mind spinning with panic. What were they planning? You needed to find a way out, and fast, before things escalated even further.

"You’re making a mistake," you said, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. "Someone’s coming for me. If you don’t let me go, it’s going to get a lot worse for both of you."

As the weight of your words hung in the air, you weren’t even sure who you were referring to in that moment—Sylus, the man who had kidnapped you in the first place, or Xavier, the one coming to save you. Both names were tangled up in your desperation, your mind too frantic to distinguish between them. All you could do was hope that the threat would ring true, that it would be enough to make Reese think twice.

The taller man smirked, clearly unimpressed. "We’ll see about that," he muttered, turning his back toward the door to pull up the carpet, leaving you alone with Reese and the gun still pressed to your neck. You watch as a metal trap door with a handle is revealed to have been hidden under the carpet and you gasp.

Instinct kicked in, and without thinking, you twisted suddenly, using the brief distraction in Reese’s hesitation to try and break free. You shoved his arm away with everything you had, knocking the gun off balance. For a moment, you thought you had a chance, adrenaline flooding your body as you fought with all the strength you could muster.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, thrashing and kicking as hard as you could. Your elbow connected with Reese's side, and he let out a sharp grunt, but his grip tightened. His face twisted in a mixture of frustration and fear, and he fought back, grabbing your arm and wrenching you toward him.

"Stop it!" Reese growled, struggling to maintain control, but you weren’t going down without a fight. You kicked at his legs, but his hold on you only grew stronger.

The door to the basement creaked open, and before you could react, the taller man reappeared, grabbing you by the other arm. His grip was like iron, and between the two of them, they overpowered you. Your heart pounded as you screamed and clawed, your feet scraping against the floor, but the force of their combined strength was too much.

"No! Please—" you gasped, trying to twist free, but they dragged you toward the open door.

The tall man grunted with effort as they forced you toward the dark, looming stairwell. "Get her down there already," he growled, his tone sharp and impatient.

You struggled even harder, but your muscles were weakening, the adrenaline starting to fade as fear took over. They shoved you roughly down the narrow staircase, and you stumbled, catching yourself against the damp wall. The dimness of the basement swallowed you whole, the air cold and musty. You could feel the fear wrapping around you, tighter with each step they forced you to take.

The taller man was close behind, his heavy footsteps echoing in the cold, damp basement. You felt his rough hand grab the bottom of your nightgown, his fingers curling into the fabric. Panic surged through you as his cold hand snaked across your belly, the touch sending a shiver of disgust up your spine.

You screamed, thrashing wildly against his grip, but his strength overpowered you. The man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Wouldn't hurt to try her out before the boss gets here..." His voice was thick with lust, and his eyes gleamed with a hunger that turned your stomach.

His hand slid lower, his fingers beginning to snake inside your underwear. You could feel his hard on pressed against your backside. Fear and revulsion took over, and you knew you had to do something—anything—to stop him.

Thinking fast, you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, your voice desperate and shaking. "I'm bleeding! I'm on my period!"

The words seemed to stop him in his tracks. His hand paused, the twisted hunger in his eyes faltering for a moment as confusion flickered across his face.

"You’re what?" he muttered, his brow furrowing. His grip loosened just slightly, enough for you to take a sharp breath, your heart still racing.

"I’m on my period," you repeated, your voice trembling. "It’s—it’s bad. You don’t want to do this right now."

For a brief second, his disgusted expression told you that he was weighing his options. The thought of period blood clearly repulsed him, and his hand slowly pulled away from your underwear, his lips curling in frustration.

"You’re lucky," he growled, wiping his hand on his pants, his face twisted with disdain. "But don’t think that saves you."

His hand shot up before you could react, grabbing a fistful of your hair and dragging you across the rough concrete floor toward the makeshift shower installed in the corner of the basement. Your scalp throbbed with each pull, the pain sharpening with every step, but you bit your lip, refusing to cry out.

He threw you against the cold, damp wall, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You barely had time to catch your breath before he twisted the rusty shower handle. Water burst from the nozzle, freezing and unforgiving.

“So filthy,” he sneered, standing over you as the icy water soaked your clothes, plastering them to your skin. “Maybe this will help?"

The cold bit into your bones, and you hugged yourself, trembling, struggling to stay upright as the water pounded down. He stood there a moment longer, watching with twisted satisfaction, before finally turning away, leaving you shivering on the cold, wet floor of the basement.

Sobbing on the cold, unforgiving basement floor, you shiver, your body pressed against the damp concrete, each breath heavy with despair. The chill seeps into your skin, a numbing cold that echoes the hollow ache inside you. Your tears fall, silent and unnoticed, merging with the grime beneath you as exhaustion pulls you deeper into its grip. In the silence, a desperate wish slips through your mind for someone to save you—anyone, even him.

Though Sylus had stolen you away, his presence now haunts you like a ghost. In this unbearable solitude, even the memory of him feels like a twisted solace. You long for his shadow, for those red, gleaming eyes that once pierced through the darkness, and his stark white hair, a glimmer against the void.

At least he gave you warm baths.

The thought slips through your mind, shame twisting in your chest. How could you even think of Sylus now, when poor Xavier was likely out there, rushing to save you, unaware of the torment you’re enduring? Guilt coils around you, tightening with every heartbeat, yet you can’t shake the cruel comfort of that memory. Sylus, for all the wrong he had done, had never left you to freeze, never left you to shiver and break alone.

Your vision blurs as the weight of everything crushes you, and you can almost see him—an apparition of salvation in your mind. His image flickers, vivid and sharp, as your consciousness begins to fray at the edges. The world slips away, piece by piece, and the cold wraps tighter around you.

The cold water finally stops.

In this fading moment, you cling to that impossible hope, that he, with his red eyes and cold hands, might come for you—if only to save you from a fate worse than death.

[ldrfanatic]

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

[gurugirl]

Next Door Neighbors | Part 2

neighbor!harry x reader

Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.

A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!

Word Count: 5k+

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff

. . .

Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.

Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.

He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.

But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.

You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.

“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.

“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.

“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.

“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.

Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”

You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.

“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”

“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”

And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.

Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.

Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.

You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.

“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”

“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”

You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”

Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”

You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”

Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.

“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.

Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”

He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.

Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.

There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”

Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”

You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”

Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”

His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”

His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”

He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”

Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.

“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”

You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.

Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.

“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”

Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.

“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.

And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?

“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.

“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.

You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”

Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”

You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”

You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”

Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.

You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.

He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.

You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.

“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”

You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.

“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”

Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”

You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”

His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”

The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”

Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.

He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.

And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.

You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.

Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.

Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”

You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.

He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.

His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.

You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.

You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.

He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”

You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?

He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?

You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.

You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.

A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.

Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.

He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.

A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.

“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.

Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.

His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.

He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.

You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.

You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.

“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”

You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”

He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”

You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.

“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”

You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.

You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.

He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.

You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.

“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”

Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.

“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”

You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.

You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.

You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.

“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.

You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”

He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”

You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”

Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.

“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.

“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”

Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”

You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”

“Definitely, yeah.”

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[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Interview 📺🎤

Alexia Putellas x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary:

Interviewing the famous Alexia Putellas was a dream come true. Being a fan of football since a young age, finally being able to interview one of the best female footballers was truly an extatic. During this interview, Alexia slowly started flirting with you, teasing you slightly, smiling at you. After a few months of texting and going out, you become official. When another interview is organised with the two of you, the dynamic is a lot different than what it was a year ago.

You were living in a dream, growing up as a football fan, you could have never imagine in your life being able to interview the Alexia Putellas. You always admire her dedication, and leadership on the pitch. And imagining that in a few minute you would be sitting across from one of the best female footballers in the world felt surreal.

These past few days were a mix of excitement and nerves, revising till perfection every single word that you would adresse her, imagining every possible of scenario, having several anxiety attacks on what could go wrong.

You took a deep breath as you started hearing her footsteps coming closer and closer to the set.

(A) Hola debes ser la entrevistadora, ¿cómo estás?

hello you must be the interviewer, how are you ?

Estoy muy bien, gracias por preguntar. ¿Cómo estás?

I'm doing great, thank you for asking, how are you ?

Your thick English accent clearly coming through every word. She smiled at you.

English i see, lo estoy haciendo muy bien, gracias hermosa.

English i see, im doing great thank you beautiful.

You felt warm comming up to your cheeks, body frosen in shock, gay panic clearly sprend all over you as you try to make some kind of respond. She chuckled softly at you, eyes locked on yours.

Eres linda, me gustas. ¿Qué tal si comenzamos esta entrevista? Estoy emocionada por saber más sobre ti.

You're cute, i like you. how about we start this interview? im excited to know more about you.

You nobbed in response, not wanting to embarrass yourself more.

As you asked her about her incredible journey, her career highlights, her training, her winning the Ballon d'Or. She answered each question with her characteristic charm, but as the interview went on, something shifted. Her smiles stayed longer than necessary, her eyes sparkled with a teasing light, and there was a playful undertone to her responses. At first, you thought it was just your imagination. Then, she began making subtle comments. You laughed it off, trying to stay focused, but you couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

After the interview, you both lingered a little longer than expected, exchanging stories beyond football, letting the professional wall between you slowly disappear. Over the next few months, what started as an innocent professional connection turned into something deeper. You found yourselves texting frequently, sharing small moments of your day. Each conversation, each meeting, felt electric, filled with a tension that neither of you could ignore. Eventually, the inevitable happened. Alexia asked you out, and from that moment, everything changed.

Months passed, and your relationship blossomed. You had kept it private, aware of the media’s prying eyes. Alexia was extremely private, but with you, she was open, playful, and warm in a way the public rarely saw.

A year after that first interview, another one was scheduled. this time, both of you knew it would be different. As you walked into the studio, memories of your initial interview flooded back. The dynamic between you was entirely different now, the polite, formal exchanges of last year were gone. Now, there was a sense of ease, familiarity, and affection that neither of you could hide.

The interview started, but this time, the teasing wasn’t subtle. Alexia grinned at you before answering each question, occasionally reaching across to touch your hand or throwing in a playful remark about your relationship. The camera crew noticed the chemistry immediately, exchanging knowing looks as you tried to maintain your composure.

Has cambiado un poco desde nuestra última entrevista, no recuerdo que estuvieras tan... distraído.

you've changed a bit since our last interview, I don’t remember you being so...distracted.

She said, smirking. You laughed, trying to keep it professional, but you could feel the blush creeping up your cheeks.

Creo que eres tú la que está distraída, Alexia.

I think it’s you who's distracted, Alexia.

The interview was a mix of serious questions and light-hearted banter. It wasn’t just about football this time; it was about the bond between you two, the connection that had grown from a shared passion for the sport into something far more personal. The audience could see it, and they loved it.

As the interview wrapped up, Alexia leaned in slightly, her voice just low enough for only you to hear.

¿Cena después de esto?

Dinner after this?

You smiled, feeling your heart race just like it did that first day.

Wouldn't miss it for the world.

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

ravish pt.2

hitchhiker!readerxperv!loganhowlett

a/n: thankyou so much for all the love on ravish, it means a lot. in this one, i focused a little more on the set up of their connection and less on the sex part to give their relationship more depth. part three will eventually be in the works, but i hope you guys like this one<3

wc: 3.6k

NSFW

18+ MDNI | alcohol usage, age gap, oral sex and sexual themes

summary: the last thing y/n remembers was being in Logan's car after being picked up by him. How did she get to this motel room, where is he?

au: 1970s

Your brain buzzed the entirety of the drive to El Paso.

You hadn't fully recovered yet from your mindblowing orgasm in the backseat earlier. However, you felt better because you no longer had that aching pressure between your legs.

Logan had taken care of that before the long drive ahead. He could smell the arousal off of you the second you entered the car which made driving just too hard to concentrate on. With a simple look at you, it's as if he could tell that's exactly what you needed, and he gave it to you.

The both of you managed to make the 6-hour drive without any other detours.

Shortly after pulling out of the woods he had stopped at a nearby store and bought you both something to eat, he mentioned he couldn't hear the music over your stomach growling.

His soft rock cd's filled the silences as you both drifted into your individual trains of thought.

Once in a while, you'd pass him cigars from the dash when he was due for another. 

He'd mumble a 'thanks, sweetheart.'

At one point he had folded his flannel as a makeshift pillow so you could nap your hangover away. 

He'd quietly cuss under his breath trying to keep his road rage to a minimum and not wake you up. 

"Kid, wake up." He shook you gently. 

Your eyelids were glued shut.

"Kid," He prompted you again. 

You could hear him and were awake but your body remained in that coma-like state, catching up on some overdue rest. Being on the road constantly meant you didn't eat or sleep as much as you were supposed to.

Logan let out a grunt and got out of the car, turning the front and opening your passenger door; He uncliped your seatbelt and carried your bridal style to a motel room door.

He unlocked the door with a swift motion of one hand as the other held you in his chest.

He kicked it open and gently placed you on the bed before returning to the car to grab your bag.

He closed the door and kicked off his boots. The mattress dipped where he sat on the foot of the bed.

He carded his fingers through his hair with a huff, taking a peek at your sleeping body. 

Your shoulders rose and fell as you gently breathed, a few strands of your hair in your face, floating with the exhale from your nose. You looked so peaceful, and... innocent.

He still wondered what a young thing like you was doing travelling across the country alone, it was a reckless choice on your part, putting yourself in danger every single day. Why were you doing this to yourself?

Logan's trust in people had been long gone for some time now, and he couldn't help but feel responsible for making you realize that maybe the world isn't such a great place after all. 

He frowned as his mind dove into the thought that he was no better than they were, taking advantage of you in the back of his car. Letting his perverted fantasize take over him. He was way older than you were, and though it was legal, a part of him wasn't sure if it was right. 

Anger bubbled inside of him, disgusted with himself. He pulled out the panties he had pocketed earlier and sighed returning them to their place.

"Fuck," He gritted through his teeth.

He rose to his feet and took one last look at you before he slipped out the door. 

You had no recollection of how you got into a motel room, but it was safe to assume that Logan had placed you there. The clock on the wall indicated it was an hour before midnight, you had slept the entire day away. 

How sweet, you thought.

You scanned the room looking for any trace of him; a phone number, a wad of cash, cigars, anything: nothing. 

Just you and your backpack.

It's as if there was no trace of Logan ever existing:

Had you imagined him?

Had he been a hallucination from the leftover psychedelics in your system?

Your gears turned.

Would he leave without saying goodbye?

You look over to the bedside table and call the front desk. 

"Guest services," A voice chimed from the other line. 

"Hi... my...friend, got this room for me. I'm just wondering if he is staying in a separate room or left anything with you guys at the desk." You groggily explained, not being 100% sure yourself what you were trying to ask.

"I can check, what room are you staying in?" 

"..Give me a sec," You murmured into the receiver, looking at the sticker on the rotary phone. "B6." 

The clerk ruffles pages around looking for your information on the other end of the line.

"...Your room name is under Logan Howlett, but unfortunately there doesn't seem to be any other bookings under that name. We also didn't receive anything from Mr. Howlett at the desk."

Two things:

He was in fact real and he did leave without saying goodbye.

"Thank you," You mumbled, and hung up the phone and dropped your head with a huff.

You took notice that your feet were still black, and the reality hit that you indeed hadn't showered in a couple days, the struggles of being a nomad. 

You padded to the bathroom and made your way to the shower, twisting the knob; warm steam filled the room, fogging the mirror.

You undressed and stepped under the shower head. A chill ran up your stomach, causing your nipples to get hard, you weren't used to the water temperature yet.

With the motel-provided toiletries, you were able to wash your hair and body and even shave.

You cracked a smile, laughing in disbelief at how Logan absolutely didn't care that you weren't shaven and hadn't showered for a few days.

Your smile faltered as you remembered he was gone.

He was a man you just met, a total stranger, but he had definitely left a lasting impression.

Even though his knuckles had dried blood on them, you didn't feel scared around him, if anything you felt safe. There is something about him that just reeled you in like a deer in headlights. Not to mention your physical chemistry was through the roof.

You turned the shower off, stepped out and wrapped yourself in a robe. You had forgotten to turn on the fan so the entire room looked like a sauna.

Great, you thought, slipping on the provided paper-thin sandals and walking to the back door.

You opened it to clear the steam.

What? You stopped in your tracks.

Logan's car was parked in front of your room, he hadn't left after all.

You tightened the knot on your robe and stepped out into the darkness of the parking lot. You pressed your face against the window, shielding your eyes from the street lights with your hands. 

Logan wasn't inside, and it looked like nothing was missing;

Where could he have gone, had something happened to him? 

Your curiosity got the best of you, you were going to look for him. You went back inside and got dressed back into your dirty clothes that now smelled of booze. 

Booze. 

You had noticed there was a bar across from the motel, he might've gone there; hopefully, he wasn't getting himself in another fight. 

You kept the slippers on since those were your only shoes at the moment and left for the bar. 

You pushed the paint-chipped door and were greeted with a musk of liquor and cigarettes.

The inside, much like the exterior was made of wood and covered with various street signs and glowing lights casting a neon wash into the room. 

It was small and the place was packed. The air was warm and thick with smoke. Loud rock blared from the speakers as people chattered and laughed amongst themselves over the track. 

You pushed through a few people and spotted his flannel at the pool table, his back facing you.

You reached him tugging at his sleeve.

"I thought you left," You started and cut yourself off as a man you didn't recognize turned to face you. 

"My bad, thought you were someone else." You mumbled apologetically and turned to leave. 

A grip on your bicep stopped you in your tracks. 

"Where you goin'? Stay, wanna play a round?" The stranger slurred. 

"I'm actually looking for someone, maybe next time." You jerked your arm out of his grip, squeezing through groups of bodies, making your way to check out the slot machines in the corner. 

No one there. 

Shit. 

The last place you could check was the bar. You sucked in a breath, whispering your 'sorrys' and 'scuse me's' as you slithered your way to the bar top. Observing the occupied seats you couldn't identify Logan. Your eyes made contact with the bartender. 

"I.D. please or a parental permission letter." He up and downed you while drying a beer mug with a cloth. 

"I don't want a drink, have you seen a man, 40s, side burns with uh, bloody knuckles." You spoke up over the music. 

He pointed to the end of the bar where a brunette man had his head buried in his arms. 

"That's who you're looking for? He's been here for a while and had quite a lot to drink, I had to cut him off after he finished the whole bottle." 

You furrowed your brows.

"Thanks," You muttered and made your way to Logan. 

You could smell the booze wafting off of him from three feet away;

Was he trying to drink himself to death? 

You placed a gentle hand on his back whispering a 'Logan' in his ear. 

He perked up, squinting from the bar lights.

"What're ya' doing here?" He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

"Come on, let's go back to the room, you're wasted," You grabbed his wrist giving it a little tug. 

"M'fine, n' the room is all yours." He stretched out his back, relieving it from the pain.

"Well you can't sleep on the bar, let's go, the bed is big enough for both of us." You persisted. 

Your eyes locked, noticing almost immediately something changed in him, hurt was written all over his face. Logan didn't say anything, just looked at you with a sad expression, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

"...M'sorry..." He whispered and blinked slowly. 

You arched a brow and grabbed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles. 

"It's fine Logan, let's go rest up. You've had a long day." You tugged at his arm and this time he threw a stack of cash on the bar and got up to follow you.

He hung his head low as he followed behind you, heavy footsteps crashing into the gravel stumbling lightly here and there.

What the hell had happened while you were asleep? 

You both bust through the door, Logan flopping on the bed, making it squeak loudly.

"I'll get you some water," You shut the door and grabbed the complimentary disposable cups on the desk.

"I said m' fine," You heard him faintly grumble in the mattress from the room as you filled it with the bathroom sink tap water. 

You returned and sat on the mattress next to his head.

"Drink some," You ushered, running a hand through his hair, he was warm to the touch.

He hummed in delight as your nails scratched his scalp gently. 

"You like that hm?" You teased.

Logan took a deep breath and propped himself on his forearms grabbing the cup from your hand. He threw it back like a shot of tequila, crumpled the cardboard and tossed it to the corner of the room. 

Your hand fell to his nape where your thumb rubbed tiny circles, he looked at you in the eyes, the same sadness still there.

"What is it?" You whispered. 

"...I'm old n' gross, didn't mean to do anything you didn't want.." He stared at the mattress. 

"What are you talking about..... in the car?" Your brows knitted. 

"Yeah, shouldn't have done that." He propped his head up with his palm.

"Logan, hey, of course, I wanted it, I'm the one who initiated it, I came onto you, remember-" You explained, dropping to your knees on the floor so that your face was now inches away from his. 

"-and you're not gross," You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes. Just don't want to take advantage of you, kid, don't wanna hurt ya'," His eyebrows softened. You slid your hand to cup his stubly cheek. 

"Then don't hurt me, " You smiled.

"-and you're not. If anything I'm the one taking advantage of you," You giggled and bit your lips as you pushed him onto his back. You swung your thigh over him, now straddling him with both your hands on his chest. That earned you a surprised huff from Logan. His thick calloused hands grab to your exposed waist. You sat on his groin, feeling him getting slightly harder. 

You peered down at the gorgeous man beneath you. "I'm an adult too you know...just because I'm on the younger side doesn't mean you're taking advantage of me. I like you." You mumbled shyly. 

"I know bub'." He sighed. "Jus' never did this before.'" He breathed out. 

"Me neither, kay? So nothing to worry about." You pressed your forehead against his, cupping both his cheeks in your hands. 

"Kay'." He rasped, you could smell the prominent whiskey and cigars on his breath. You kissed him, long and hard, full of passion he returned it with an enthusiastic groan.

You didn't know the first thing about this man, but you already cared so much. You could tell that he had something inside of him that was dark or broken, which saddened you. He had shown you such generosity and kindness, you couldn't help but want to return the favour. 

He groaned as you pulled back from the kiss. "Go shower and come to bed back with me," You grinned. 

Without a word, he got up and obeyed. 

You had changed out of your clothing and back into the robe again, it felt good to be clean and wear something clean. You were in bed, waiting for him to come join you. A single warm-toned lamp lit the room. 

The door opened with a thud and Logan emerged from the door with a towel hanging from his hips.

The sheer sight of him made you immediately bite your finger: his hair stuck up in every direction, almost like when a wet dog shakes themselves dry.

His muscles glistened underneath the droplets of water, his abs were prominent and stretched all the way down to his pelvis. Logan was ripped, a pleasant surprise you hadn't gotten the chance to see earlier in the car. 

"Feel better?" You said warmly.

"Mhm," He agreed, trudging through the carpet to make his way to the bed. His abs flexed as he walked. He pulled the cover of the blanket up and began to get underneath with his towel.

"Your towel is going to make blankets wet," You remarked.

"There's only one robe," He paused looking down at you. 

From your point of view, he had one knee on the bed and towered over you. His towel-covered pelvis was inches away from your face.

You grinned and flipped to your stomach. Warmth spread in your cheeks as you reached out a hand to grip the towel. 

"That's alright with me," You purred, as you pulled it down making Logans semi-hard cock spring out. 

"What're ya-" He began but you cut himself off with a groan as you wrapped your small hand around it. It was thick and had a few prominent veins that grazed its sides, the red tip of it poked out from the foreskin that bunched at the edge. He was gorgeous.

You looked up at him with doe eyes as you began to stoke it slowly; You felt the warmth in your hand as it swelled to it's full erect size, Logan was about a whole delicious seven inches,

"Can I?" You blinked.

"You don't have to," He groaned from the sensation, brushing a hand through your hair.

"I really want to, please can I?" You begged, and your mouth began to water. Pleasuring Logan sent a thrill in your stomach. You could have this groan man under your control in a matter of seconds.

"Kay' princess, whatever you want," He grunted out. 

You pulled back the foreskin, exposing his thick eager tip. You hum in delight before enveloping your warm lips around it, sucking on it gently while still keeping that slow stroking rhythm from before. 

Logan's grip on your hair tightens, and small moans and groans escape his lips.  You were so pretty with his cock in your mouth, he stared at you in awe as you worked gently on him. Inch by inch you relaxed your throat to take more of him, feeling his hard cock push on your tongue for added friction. 

"You're doin' good," He praised with his head tipping back as you reached the base, your nose brushed against his pubic hair as you pushed him even further down. An ache formed at the back of your throat, but you didn't care, you were enjoying pleasuring Logan. A hunger began to form between your legs, and you squeezed them together, trying to ease the pressure. 

You pulled your head back, removing it from your warmth. You took a breath as you picked your pace a little, the strokes getting faster and faster. You spit the saliva that had been collecting in your mouth on it earning a grunt from Logan and a little tug on your hair.

He gripped his cock guiding it closer and slapped it against your cheek, making sounds of wet skin-on-skin reverb in the room. A low groan resonated from his chest as his slaps got harder. 

"Fuck," He breathed, peering at you with his hunger-filled eyes.

If he liked it rough, you were going to give it to him rough. 

You took charge again, wrapping your two hands on it now. Twisting them both in opposite directions down on the spit-lubricated shaft, tightening your grip and applying more pressure to his needy length. 

Your strokes became even faster, sending Logan's spine in tingles. You re-inserted him in your mouth sucking hard and letting him go with a pop noise, you repeated that a few times as he bucked his hips closer and closer, his orgasm approaching. 

You bobbed on his tip, sucking as hard as you possibly could, taking him in deeper and deeper with each push until you once again reached the base. You gagged from his size, groaning in pain, sending vibrations along his shaft. You pushed yourself to keep deep-throating him, making you gag over and over. The vibrations sent Logan over the edge.

"Fuck sweetheart," Logan rasped breathily, removing himself from you as you moaned in relief, you stroked him as ribbons of pearly cum shot out and covered your swollen lips.

He fell in a fit of moans as he rode out his orgasm under your touch.  He hunched over, placing a hand on the mattress to stabilize himself as you slowed your movement, letting him come back to his senses. You wiped off his seed with the sleeves of your robe, smiling at what you had just done.

He caught his breath and plopped down on the bed next to you, chest heaving from the miraculous release he had just experienced. 

You rolled into his side snuggling close to him, as he wrapped his tired arm around you. You laid your head on his bare chest and could hear his heartbeat slowly going back to normal with each breath. Logan's abs flexed as he brought down his lips to kiss the top of your head. 

"thanks', that felt real good sweetheart." He mumbled against your hair. 

"Mmmm... was all my pleasure," You smiled, tipped your chin up and kissed him on the lips.

The both of you laid there like that in the blankets in silence for a while. Logan stroked your hair gently as you twirled his chest hair between your fingers, the both of you just enjoying your presence.

"Logan?" Whispered. 

"Ya?" His chest moved with his word. 

"Why were your knuckles covered in dried blood?" You asked.

Logan's hand in your hair froze. 

"-Work." He rasped. 

"Are you going to work tomorrow? Is that why you were going to El Paso?" You pried. 

"No work, thinking of heading out to the other side of the border for a little bit," He chose his words carefully. 

He was being secretive; yes you did not know each other at all and you weren't entitled to full disclosure, but it seemed that he wanted you to know as little as possible.

Was he on the run? Mexico was the perfect place to go for people who wanted to be off the radar. 

Did he have a wife and kids down there? Your eyes darted to his hand, no ring.

"Vacation?" You tested. 

"Something like that," His tone calm, dissmisive. 

"When are you leaving?" You felt a pressure in your chest as you thought of him leaving for good. 

"Tommorow mornin'," He groaned looking at the clock. 

"That's so soon," You frowned.

"Yeah I know, kay kid' time to go to bed now." He rolled over to turn off the lamp, leaving the room in complete darkness now. 

He pulled your body into him so that your back was against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet smell.

Logan was going to miss having you in his arms, but he had business to take care of down south. Maybe one day he'd have the pleasure of crossing paths with you again. 

You heard the bathroom door shut, he was awake. You couldn't sleep last night because you had too many unanswered questions. You got up quietly stripping from your robe and sliding on a fresh pair of underwear that you had in your backpack. You rummaged around the room finding your scattered clothing pieces and frantically putting them on. 

Logan opened the door and was met with you being fully dressed and ready to go. His brows knitted. 

"Where you goin'" He grumbled. 

"I'm coming with you," You crossed your arms.

so much angst.

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[fckmebarnes]

imagine lawyer bucky having you under his desk sucking his cock and playing with his cock while he has meeting or important phone calls

note; this turned out way longer than i expected it too!!! i’ve been thinking of lawyer!bucky a lot and i need him more in my life so…maybe ill add him to my universe <3

minors dni! 18+ smut. cockwarming, bucky fucks you while on a call, he ties ur wrists, he’s just kinky ok. i need him

i’ve been thinking about this lately :(

you keep his cock warm with your mouth - he knows this and you know this. it’s what you’re best at when you come with him at work.

he doesn’t normally bring you along - you’re a distraction. he knows it and you know it. you use it to your advantage to get what you want.

and you always get what you want.

that’s how you’re in this position now, knees against the shaggy tan carpet, hunched over bucky’s lap. you’re completely naked, except the underwear he made you keep on just so the toy he pushed snug in your cunt that morning while you were asleep - stays in.

his desk shielded you, no one would know you were under there. the wooden oak desk was one of bucky’s prized possessions after he opened his firm.

“it was my fathers,” you remembered him telling you, watching as he trailed one of his flesh fingers down the dark oak. you knew it was important to him, and it made you feel special he allowed you this close to it.

your mouth, however, was preoccupied with bucky’s cock shoved down your throat. he was on a business call? you heard his voice try to not grunt with great effort as your tongue moved on its own accord. it traced the small outlines of the veins of his dick, making him grip your hair harshly.

he leaned back in his chair just enough to see your eyes looking up up him with the most innocent face he had ever seen your face adorn.

he wanted to ruin it.

he took his metal hand and brought it up to his faces, resting his pointer finger against his pink plush lips.

“shhh..” you only groaned in response as you felt his hips buck up, his metal hand flying for your hair and digging his fingers deep. he tugged onto you, the tip of his cock hitting the back your throat as he cleared his.

“gentlemen, i know we have to come to some type of settlement, surely?” his voice was i wavered, as if he wasn’t fucking the shit out of your mouth at the same exact time.

you heard some response above you, meaning the phone was just above your head. you felt your cunt throb at the thought of them being able to hear you get throat fucked.

“o can’t do another trial. i’d have to file an adjournment request for it and i just don’t have the time.” he looked down at you as he said that, his hands being very full at the moment.

your hands were gripping his clothes thighs. he only wanted to pull himself out through the zipper of his slacks. he had some class.

grunting at a particular harsh thrust, he leaned over to mute the call before pulling you out from under the desk, ultimately emptying your mouth of his cock.

you whines in response, and he just chuckled as he bent you over the desk, slapping your ass harshly with his right hand. his metal one snaked up your spine, fluttering touches against your skin making you break out in goosebumps and soft whine escaped your lips.

“i’m going to unmute this call, and when i do - my cock is going to be buried deep in this sweet pussy,” he paused, his metal hand finding the nape of your neck as your elbows dig into the cool wooden oak, your hips pressing against the edge surely to leave a mark.

but you didn’t care. you wanted to remember this moment.

the one where he had his legs in between yours to knock them spread wider, your cunt glistening and soaked just from being his desk pet and sucking his cock alone. he knew how needy you got, he knew you would keep begging and begging under you couldn’t take it anymore.

and he loved it.

he undid his belt fully now, pushing his slacks and boxers down as your back was arched perfectly for him. he took his shit jacket off the back of his chair and folded it up enough to create a cushion before positioning it under your head as a pillow.

“hands behind your back, princess.” his voice was low making your shiver, and you heard the metal clink behind you.

fuck.

he grabbed your wrists as soon as you laid your head down on the make shift jacket pillow and sighed as he tightened the belt comfortably around your wrists.

“you look so pretty like this, baby. spread open wide for me while on a call. you love this, don’t you?” you nodded, biting your lip before being brought back to the moment when you heard bucky’s name being called from the speaker across the desk from your face.

“james? you there?“ he leaned over, the tip of his cock pushing into your cunt as he leaned over the entirety of you to unmute the call. this had him bottom out fully into you.

“still here, sorry about that. look, tell you what - i’ll withdraw my motion,” he stood back up enough to pull his cock out of your cunt all the way, admiring the way you looked bent over and bare for him. “if you get your client to at least send his discovery.” he pushed back in easily, your slick collected at the base of his cock as he pumped in and out of you with ease.

you listen to the men grovel to each other again as bucky out the call back on mute and grilled your hips harshly before slamming into you.

“such a good girl, you know that? staying quiet while my dick is deep inside your pussy. you’re fucking soaked, you know that?” he grinned as you let out a moan, his cock twitching at the sound.

“you sound so good baby, keep making those pretty noises. it’s music to my fucking ears.” he groaned as you moaned again, his metal hand wrapping around your waist to find your clit and pressing his thumb firmly.

“bucky,” you whined gently, biting your lip and looking at him with the most innocent and naive eyes you could give him.

“awe, what is it, doll? you want me to touch your swollen clit?” you nodded as he started slow circles, his cock still deep inside of you and stretching you out so much you were borderline cock drunk.

“please i..” you let out a moan as he pushed harder, your cunt pulsing around his cock with each stroke.

“beg for it.” his voice was deep and direct, sending a tingle right to your core. he felt it as soon as you clenched around him, tears pricking your eyes as the men continued to bicker.

“please bucky, please fuck me..! i need it so bad i..” you felt his right hand push your face further into the suit jacket as he moaned your name, feeling his cock twitch as your cunt pulsed. his thumb went in fast circles, making your toes curl and your stomach tighten.

“go on baby,” he groaned as he heard his name again and unmuted the call. “i don’t know, honestly. i can have my legal assistant take a look at my calendar.” he muted again before continuing his assault on your clit.

“cum for me, show me how much you want it. how much you need my cock.” you moaned loudly, biting your lip and felt a heat rise to your cheeks. your eyes kept trained on bucky’s his chest heaving and those stupid dog tags peaking through his unbuttoned dress shirt clinking against his chest.

you couldn’t speak as soon as you felt your orgasm hit, your cunt clenching his cock and your fingernails digging into your pals as your body went limp a giant the desk. it felt like heavy, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin mixed with each others fluids.

his moans as he kissed up your back and leant over your body with his as you felt his cock twitch and instantly filled to the brim. his lips kissed the shell of your ear with the breathy moan.

“you’re so good to me, baby.” he whispers gently against your ear, his breathing slowing as he sat up and leaned back.

he pulled his cock from your drippy cunt just enough to see his cum spilling out of you. he chuckled before leaning over and undoing the belt from your wrists

he rubbed them with his cool metal hand before pulling you up and into his lap, taking his suit jacket with him and you bottoming out on his cock once again.

“keep my cock warm while i settle this case, okay baby?”