#a crowd quickly gathered round

[larrylimericks]

30Jun24

Cos the footy match wasn't on view, One festival set made the news: A telly on trolley (Rocks carried by Oli) — Hail the new God of Glasto: our Lou!

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 1 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: In a world of boys, he’s an obsessed billionaire stalker. (Should I write a part 2?)

Warnings: stalker Azriel, lots of smutty fantasies, delusional reader.

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Azriel knew that he was one mad bastard. How else would he have killed his half-brothers, his sperm donor (he refused to refer to that fuckface as a father), and that bitch of a step-mother to take over the one of the largest conglomerates in the world?

He never lost sight of his goals. 

Revenge? Check.

Securing wealth and assets? Check.

Taking care of his mother? Check. 

He’d come a long way from being the illegitimate child tortured when his father and half-brothers had nothing else to do to leading the largest conglomerate in the country. 

He was tactical, ruthless, and currently madly obsessed with a woman dancing in the club like this was her moment.

From his perspective, this was the moment their lives would be irrevocably changed. 

She was like the flame of a candle with a warm glow he was now desperate to covet. She glowed only for those who observed, not for those who simply looked. 

And he was observing. Studying every inch of her like she was his personal research project. 

Her body moved way too mesmerisingly. His cock was aching now. That dress was so nicely fitted on her curves. Such a pretty dress. He noted the dress so that he could fuck her in it in the future in honour of the day their paths crossed. 

Her eyes were closed or half-open for a long time but they were now properly open. Round eyes took in her surroundings as she drew her friend closer with a hand on her waist and looked at another club goer who had invaded their space. The man apologised and moved away. 

While this woman was guarding her friend, said friend was glaring at a man behind her who was getting too close. The friend tapped the man over his woman’s shoulder and was probably screeching at him. 

When the man began frowning and saying something back that did not seem like an apology for invading personal space, Azriel stood up, buttoning his blazer, and walked over. 

The crowd was barely a bother as he immediately reached them. He glared at the man from behind his woman and her friend and the man turned away and quickly moved. 

She looked at her friend and then noticed him standing behind her. He bowed his head and fished out his phone. He quickly typed in his message and showed it to them.

I’ll ensure that he’s removed. Enjoy your night. 

He simply put his phone in his pocket and bowed his head once. Y/n said something that he couldn’t hear but from the way her lips moved, it was most likely a word of gratitude. He nodded and returned to his area on the floor above. He whispered his order to one of his bodyguards and the two women watched as the man was escorted out of the club. 

The women looked at each other and laughed. And then she gathered her hair behind her head and held it there for a few seconds. Probably to let it cool after all the sweat. 

Her neck looked like a canvas. 

His canvas. 

And he’d mark her soon.  

Once he was seated again, he received his iPad from one of his men with a report of his woman. 

Y/n. A very suitable name. He’d moan or groan that name every night. 

Aged twenty four. He was twenty eight. This could definitely work.

A few basic details about her family. Soon, his own name would be added in her biodata under the category of spouse. 

But then he caught sight of another picture with a name and the relation to her as her ex-boyfriend. 

He was now curious. 

Azriel looked at Y/n, happy and dancing with her friend and so beautiful, she made him feel something pleasant. Was this happiness?

And then he looked at his iPad and frowned. He looked at her and then at the iPad again. 

Why would someone so beautiful, perfect, wonderful, intelligent woman, ever date this. . . this. . . whatever this was? 

He sent the name of this ex-boyfriend to his contact for more information and then scrolled. 

Height, weight, medical history, social media, and. . . A notification popped up with the report on the ex-boyfriend. The more he read it, the more he frowned. 

Azriel looked up and found Y/n now joined by a few more people with whom she laughed and drank. She was so. . . he didn’t really know how to articulate his own feelings but even reading her biodata made him feel pleasant. He was calm. 

But then he looked at the report of her ex-boyfriend.

His woman probably had some vision problems because why would this magnificent woman ever date this rat?

The more he read about their connection, the more he felt the familiar black rage rising in his chest like a behemoth. 

So the lowlife had made her cry. Spoken nonsense about her. Spread rumours. And had made her feel like she was less than the woman she was. 

Oh. 

Oh.

Well, well, well. 

Somebody needs to drown in the sewer he originated from. 

He’d take care of that soon.

Y/n’s own report revealed that she was there in the club to celebrate the birthday of her best friend’s youngest sister. 

Her best friend seemed like a reasonable woman. Nesta Archeron, her childhood friend who was more of a sister and also, her dancing companion. He glossed over more details of Nesta and Y/n’s friendship and finally set the iPad next to him. 

Beautiful was probably an understatement to describe his woman. 

Now there were two new details regarding Y/n. 

She was his. 

And he was hers. 

****

Y/n had hauled her luggage out of the apartment and somehow reached the airport. She was anxious and excited for her new semester. Her last wild party was back when Feyre turned twenty one. She danced and drank and enjoyed every bit of it. 

And she had the salivating memory of the sexiest guy she’d ever met. 

Y/n had easily woken up around eight in the morning with no headaches. But a night with alcohol usually made her a little slow the next morning.

Nesta was also awake and they were brushing their teeth. Y/n spat the foam and then turned to her friend. “Remember the guy who just popped and ensured that the creep would be kicked out?”

Nesta hummed, looking as suspicious as she could with a toothbrush in her mouth and a layer of foam on her lips. 

“The ways. . . I would fuck him, Nes. He could ask me to kneel and I’d do that and thank him.”

Nesta spat some foam before speaking. “He was way too hot.”

“Hot is an understatement.” Y/n washed her mouth and then resumed. “He looked like a god.”

“Does he speak though?” Nesta splashed some water on her face before grabbing the bottle of face wash.

“Why is that relevant?” Y/n was already rubbing the face wash on her cheeks. 

“You want him to groan while he fucks you, right? You don’t want a saintly priest silent in the sheets.” Nesta had made a very valid point.

“I would not be opposed to a priest if they were that hot.” Y/n remembered that she’d seen an Instagram reel about a novel where a priest was. . . indulging. She hadn’t read the novel but the reel remained on her mind. 

“Yeah.” Nesta sighed. 

“He was probably an illusion.”

“What?” Nesta nearly shouted. 

“We were drunk and dancing and the lights were all bam! Could’ve hallucinated seeing a guy that hot since it’s been far too long since we got laid.” Y/n sighed.

“Railed. We deserve to be railed, not laid. Laid is for the romantic sweethearts who dream of fluffy blankets and cupcakes. Railed is for people like us.” Nesta was a strong advocate of getting railed and right now, Y/n really wanted to get railed. 

“When you go for that semester exchange.” Nesta began seriously. “And see if there are hot guys there. If you do find them, make sure he has a hot brother or a hot best friend.” This was a mandate. 

“Yes, ma’am." This was what happened when two girl best friends were delusional after reading so many smutty romances.

A man who looked like he’d fuck the life out of her. Y/n always thought those were only fictional men like Dante Russo, Aiden King, or Zade Meadows.

But there he was. She'd met such a man.

And no, Y/n wasn't blessed with the good fortune of being railed by that man whose sex appeal was so high she was beginning to ache by just remembering him.

She knew exactly what all she wanted. 

She wanted to be taken against a wall. To be eaten out. To have her head pushed onto the bed while being fucked from behind. 

She wanted it rough.

To be handled.

And when she was satisfied just enough to make up for months of not having sex, she'd take charge. She’d ride that man so well. 

A sudden impact reminded her that she was still standing in the middle of the airport with her luggage, waiting for an early morning flight, on an empty stomach, simply fantasising about getting so gloriously fucked by the man with whom she’d just collided. . . what?

Y/n looked around and realised that she’d collided into someone who immediately grabbed her to save her from a fall. She also realised that this was a man. A very familiar man from the club. The one she’d been fantasising about. 

With the amount of dirty thoughts that kept popping up, Y/n was sure that an exorcist would fail to get rid of the lust within her. 

In better lighting, Y/n took in his tan skin, thick eyebrows, that huge body, curly black hair, and his powerful gaze.  

This was it.

This was the face. 

This was the face. 

The one that she wanted between her legs.

She’d spread nice and wide for this man. 

“Excuse me? Are you all right?” His voice. His voice! Oh, this deep voice. Perfect. 

The thought of him groaning her name made her stomach tighten. 

Oh gods, she hadn’t had sex in so long and now an insanely attractive man was simply helping her and she was ready to fuck him right there in the middle of the airport. 

“I’m fine.” Y/n responded. “Have we met before?” She definitely sounded desperate. Y/n was ready to be hit by a plane like the pigeons in those old cartoon shows who’d crash into the window of a plane and make a funny face.  

“Yes.” He did not smile but his features definitely softened. The intensity in his gaze turned into something beautiful. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble after that man.”

“No.” She responded, a little shy. “We were fine. We enjoyed the night. Thank you for interfering.” 

****

Azriel had tracked the flight in which she would be travelling for her exchange program and booked himself a ticket. That was seven days after he’d laid eyes on her for the first time. 

Among the many things that he’d discovered about his woman during those seven days, there was nothing that explained why she was standing in the middle of the airport, dazed as if she’d seen something mesmerising. 

Under the airport lighting, he saw her. He’d reached the airport long before she did and had been standing near the row of counters which were catering to the airline they would soon be flying in. 

Azriel saw this woman walk over to the queue. She yawned and looked around. She wore her earphones and looked and smiled like she was stopping herself from laughing. 

He’d noticed that she had long hair but under better lighting, she was her curly hair and how long it was. It seemed like she’d taken good care of her hair.

That was good. 

Hair was very important. And her hair was thick and long. 

He pictured her hair wrapped around his fist while she sucked his cock. He would be sitting and she would be on her knees. 

Another image appeared with her straddling him as he sucked her breast while she rode him. A masterpiece. 

Y/n laughed a little at something else on her phone. 

It was her turn and she submitted her documents, checked in that humongous suitcase that he’d be helping her with once they landed, and received her boarding pass. 

After a while of heading towards the food court, she stopped in the middle of the airport, eyes on some decoration that was not as fascinating as her attention on it made it out to be. 

What was she thinking?

Azriel didn’t like this. 

He hadn’t seen her for seven days and now, she was not even paying him any attention. 

So he decided to take matters into his own hands and pretended to look at his phone as he ‘accidentally’ collided onto her. 

She’d recognised him. 

His woman remembered him.

He was definitely satisfied. Or not. 

Azriel just realised that he hadn’t orchestrated the collision in a manner that would allow her breasts to come in contact with his arm or chest for a second. 

A missed opportunity. 

What a sad life.

“My name is Azriel.” He extended a hand. She took it and shook his hand. Soon, it’d be his cock. Those nails would dig into his arms and back when he fucked her. Patience.  

Azriel was dressed in all black. High neck, trousers, and a blazer he held on his arm which was strategically placed in front of him so as to conceal the crotch area just in case he was aroused. He was. 

“I’m Y/n.” And then she covered her mouth as a yawn escaped her. “I’m sorry. Early morning flights are always tiring.” 

Baby curls were right beneath her ears and she gave him a sleepy smile. And for the first time, he understood how influential Y/n was. Because if he were to see that face first thing in the morning, he’d never leave his bed.

The morning sex would be so glorious. He could wake her up by eating that pussy. Her legs would be trembling on his shoulders while he feasted on her. 

“I understand.” He replied. “A good breakfast helps.”

“Haven’t had any.” She lifted a hand and waved it once. Of course, he knew she hadn’t had breakfast. His men who’d watched her apartment from the one across the street had reported no activity in her kitchen. 

“Do you have some time before boarding? We could have breakfast together.” Okay, now he was just desperate. This was embarrassing. But he wanted to spend time with her. 

“Boarding starts at five twenty. We have. .” She looked at her watch. “Lots of time. Where do you want to eat?” She looked up at him, those eyes eager. 

Azriel looked around. The washrooms came into his view. Since the cleaning staff were not here this early, he easily had fifteen to twenty minutes to eat her. The fire exit was another option. There were a few blindspots there. Or maybe underneath the escalator? 

“That place has some good coffee and spaghetti.” 

Coffee? Spaghetti? Azriel blinked at her and then looked at the places Y/n was pointing at. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

 She was talking about food. 

All right. 

Food. 

“Sure.” He looked at her. She looked a little happier at his agreement. “Shall we?” 

Y/n eagerly nodded and they headed over to that food outlet. 

A nice breakfast included some coffee Azriel’s soul needed, spaghetti, and a very happy albeit sleepy Y/n telling him about her masters program. Details he’d already known but was pleased to hear from her. He would hear more of her voice and understand more about her feelings regarding what was happening in her life. 

“What about you? You don’t look like a student.”

“Correct. I work at Umbra.” He didn’t add that he was the chairman and the controlling shareholder but that was fine. “I’m on a business trip.”

“Oh.” Her mood deflated. 

“What happened?” Umbra was a big name. Wasn’t working there something to show that he was financially secure and didn’t have any debts thereby bringing him closer to the future of being her husband? Wasn’t that enough to convince her that he had enough money so that she wouldn’t have to worry? 

He’d known enough about how Y/n wanted a library of her own in her own home. Sure, the penthouse in the city was not purchased with her in mind but he’d already cleared out a room to be used as a library. 

And the flat he’d purchased in the city they’d be flying to also had a room ready to be her library. He’d give her his card so that she could decorate it to her heart’s content. 

“Nothing.” She looked up at him wide eyed. 

“It’s not nothing.”  He pressed gentler than he’d ever been.

“Well, I really don’t know what career I want to move ahead in.” 

Oh. That was a genuine concern. Of course, he had the money in case Y/n never wanted to work. Or if she wanted to take a break before she started working. 

So they talked. They talked about her field which he had learned as much as he could in seven days and had a discussion that lifted her spirits. But Azriel knew it wouldn't take long before she fretted over it again. 

At least Y/n didn’t have to worry about being alone in that huge pit of despair over careers and futures. He’d be there to support her in any way she needed. 

“I’ll be off to the washroom, hm? Give me a few minutes.” Y/n stood up and walked away with her phone. The rest of her luggage was still at the table with Azriel. 

How nice it was to be trusted with her luggage. All after meeting her for the second time and conversing with her properly only once. 

He frowned. Was Y/n always this easily trusting? This could be dangerous. He should assign someone to follow her so that even if she trusts someone else like this, she wouldn’t be robbed. 

Azriel, having resolved that this was the only woman he’d ever marry and have any kids with, smiled faintly when she returned from the washroom. And the two of them headed over to the boarding gates.

[cassie48]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝗵𝗱𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗳𝗲

Dark! Paul Atreides x fem crybaby!Reader

Where in the midst of a crowd, you, the Mahdis wife, get shoved by accident, and Paul isn’t so happy about that.

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ට

Paul usually didn’t let you out of his sight, he knew better. It always ended up badly, someone would hurt you, or hurt your feelings, and you’d cry. Like you always did.

But you had 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘥 him to go for a walk with your friends. Fremen friends that you had known longer than you’d known him. He had only met you two years ago. But once he met you, he claimed he’s had visions of your pretty face, standing in the desert, smiling at him with your gorgeous smile.

He claimed you were to be 𝘏��𝘴. So he married you mere days after you’d met. Stilgar having no problems with it as apparently it was in the prophecy, also known as Stilgars obsession.

You wanted to marry him though, you felt connected to him. There’s wasn’t many people that had put up with your emotional personality, but oh how he 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 it. He loved seeing tears in your eyes as you’d cling to him, burying your small face in his chest, how minor things he’d do for you made you emotional, and most of all how you relied on him to make you feel better.

So that’s why you barely went anywhere without him, it was really just easier for everyone. All the Fremen held huge respect for you as you were the wife of their messiah. No one 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 to merely touch you.

So on this particular day, you had begged your husband to let you go with your friends for a few hours. Inside the ancient temple of your sietch, all your people would gather and celebrate. It was an annual day. Celebrating your cultures and beliefs.

Crowds would gather and people would mingle, meeting and seeing friends. It was just an all round fun day. But this one wasn’t.

It had started off quite well. Paul allowed you to meet your friends for an hour or so, making you promise you’d meet him at home later on. You gladly did, kissing his cheek and leaving to see your friends.

Once you did, you and your friends gathered talking and dancing for what felt like forever. After a while you knew you probably should leave to meet your husband.

Paul had joined the celebrations, as he was their mahdi. He had been watching you for a while, making sure you were alright. When he saw you making your way through the crowds he began to walk too, so he’d meet you halfway.

The crowds were pushy, 𝘛𝘰𝘰 pushy for you clearly, as you took a step but we’re roughly shoved by a man on your right. You went flying face first onto the ground, hitting your head when your did.

The man turned to yell at you

“Watch it you- Oh my lady, I-I apologise deeply!” He yelled, not realising it was you. He was a dead man and he knew it.

Mad if he wasn’t already 6 foot under from his actions, to top it off completely, you began to cry, actually you began to ball your eyes out.

The entire sietch became quiet. Many around you quickly tried to help you up, but you were having none of it, and if anything it made you cry harder. The man that knocked you began to shake in fear as he saw Paul make his way to the scene.

The people had never seen their Mahdi with such a hateful and raged look. He shoved passed people in the cowds to get to you. Once he did he bent down to your bleeding face, wiping your blood and tears before picking you up in his arms, giving one last glance to the man that had caused your accident.

“Make sure he waits outside my tent” he growled to three Fremen on his left, before swiftly turning and leaving with you in his arms.

You cried the entire way back to your tent, clinging onto your husband as your face stung. Once you two arrived, he put you into bed, sitting down beside your lying form.

“You must stop crying my love, it’s alright now” Paul said kissing your forehead gently, wiping stray tears on your cheeks.

“Don’t waste them” he muttered.

You did as he said, but still slight hiccups every few minutes remains. “My head hurts” you whispered with an unhappy look on your face.

“This is why I don’t like you out of my reach” he told you, tucking you under the sheets.

“I know Paul, I’m sorry” she said holding back tears at the thoughts of upsetting him.

He smiled at you tenderly, before giving you a gentle kiss, and letting you fall asleep in bed.

He angrily turned towards the tents exit. He took the man waiting outside fearfully in his arms, dragging him away from your sleeping form.

Once he was out of hearing distance from you, Paul shoved the man onto the ground. Taking out a knife, and placing it at his neck.

“How dare you harm hug wife” Paul yelled.

“Mahdi I- it was an accident!” He said almost crying.

“It don’t care. 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦, harms her, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳.” He yelled, before yanking the knife away from his neck, giving him a tiny knife before plunging the knife into the man’s side, and getting up and walking back to you.

Many Fremen watched, not daring to say anything. They knew better. They knew what he was like when it came to you.

Paul made his way back to your drowsy form, half asleep in your bed. “Paul you whispered” with a pouty look.

He got into the bed beside you, taking you into his strong hold, kissing your neck. “Sleep now sweetheart” he told you, and of course, you complied.

⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ටᆼට⋆⋆ට

Just wanted to write something small, I know it’s not much ♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

[itneverendshere]

Perhaps Rafe x Shy!Bartender reader at the country club. Maybe she was driven there and was supposed to get picked up, but shit got in the way. And she is far from home. Rafe is there that day for golfing or something and it’s her first day. He is instantly smitten and waits until her shift is over to properly ask her out, and notices she has no car to get home and gets protective

i looooved this and in my head this is EXACTLY how rafe and pogue!reader from this request met. this is the same universe, im making it canon rn

it could be you and me - rafe cameron

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) word count: 3.5k

Rafe slid through the crowd, heading toward the golf course. He had plans to join Topper for a round or two.

Like usual, his presence drew glances—partially because of the rumors that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Being the epitome of privilege, born into the wealth that afforded him everything, made sure that all eyes were on him, everywhere he went on that stupid fucking town. But that day, he’d been off his game from the moment he woke up.

He felt out of place, restless and mostly, bored. Every day in this place felt the same to him. The pleasures he used to get from being a kook were slowly burning out. The days had started blending together, the endless cycle of parties, and drinks had begun to lose its allure. Doing the same thing, over and over again. 

Nothing was new. Nothing was exciting anymore.

He was bored out of his mind. Golf wasn’t exactly his passion, but it was a way to pass the time, to pretend like he shouldn’t be in the office finishing whatever paperwork his father had shoved down his throat the night before. 

He needed a drink if he wanted to get through the rest of the day without breaking something.

He approached the clubhouse and noticed a small crowd gathered at the bar. It wasn’t an unusual sight—it was one of the most popular spots in the club—but something, or rather someone, caught his attention.

Behind the counter, there was someone he’d never seen before.

You wore the standard uniform of the club's staff—white blouse, black slacks, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail—but there was something about you that made him stop in his tracks. You weren’t a kook, that much was clear. And you were new. Way too new by the looks of the growing line.

You were busy, pouring drinks, smiling politely at the members, but he could tell you were nervous from the way you overdid it. It was like you were trying to make yourself small for those people. It didn’t help that they treated you like you were invisible, snapping their fingers or raising their voices to get your attention.

Fucking assholes.

He didn’t know why he felt so irritated all of the sudden. He’d done the same thing times and times again, he was no better than any of them, on a good day. But he hated watching it happen to you. He couldn’t stop staring, he felt creepy as he listed all the little things he noticed about you. Your hands moved quickly, but delicately, as if you took great care in everything you did.

You turned to reach for a bottle on a high shelf and he finally caught a good glimpse of your face—a glimpse that nearly made him drop his golf club on the spot. There was something striking about you. It was in the way your eyes narrowed as you focused on pouring the right amount of alcohol on a drink, and the way your lips pursed ever so slightly as you kept concentrating.

You were beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. He’d seen pretty girls all his life, he made sure he surrounded himself with them. But you? You were something else. 

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a genuine curiosity, to know more about someone. He didn’t think about hooking up, about asking for your number. You didn’t belong here and maybe that’s what made you so good.

The shift seemed never-ending, even though it was your first day.

Most of the club members hadn’t even bothered to learn your name —either way, you were having a hard time keeping up. 

You hadn’t wanted to take the job, but you didn’t have much of a choice. The country club was the only place hiring that summer, and you needed the money. Your friend had driven you there earlier that morning, promising to pick you up after your shift. But earlier, when you had glanced at your phone during a ten-second break, you saw a text from her saying she’d been held up—something about the car breaking down.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you handed a gin and tonic to a bald asshole who didn’t even bother to thank you. You were stuck here, away from home, and the last thing you wanted to do was ask one of these people for help.

Your nerves had already skyrocketed. Between the constant drink orders, the lack of polite smiles, and trying your best not to spill anything or offend any of these spoiled kooks, you were losing your mind. Being the center of attention wasn’t your forte, and being behind the bar was giving you a migraine as the members kept barking their orders, complaining when their drinks weren’t perfect, and barely acknowledging your existence.

You could feel their judgmental stupid eyes on you, like you were some sort of animal—a pogue. 

The buzz in your stomach kept getting stronger with every minute.

You wished you could just disappear, but you needed the job and so, you had no option but to take it like a big girl and get used to it. By the end of the day, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for another bottle, your muscles aching from trying to keep up with the endless demands.

As you handed yet another whiskey on the rocks to an ungrateful rich asshole, you noticed someone approaching the bar from the corner of your eye. Unlike the others, he didn’t immediately shout his order or snap his fingers. He just stood there, watching you, a slight smirk on his face.

It was hard not to recognize him—Rafe Cameron. You’d heard stories about him, of course. Everyone in the Outer Banks had. He was practically royalty, the golden boy of one of the wealthiest families around.

You hated being stared at, it made you feel even more out of place than you already did. You could feel your cheeks turning red just from that alone.

“Can I get you something?” you asked, politely yet barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Rafe leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving your face, “What do you recommend?”

He sounded amused. Like he was genuinely enjoying himself. Like he didn’t know this was your first day on the job. You knew he did because everything about him screamed Country Club boy. You hadn’t exactly had time to memorize the menu. But you didn’t want to look like a stupid in front of a kook, let alone kook royalty. 

“Uh, well, the mojitos are pretty popular,” you offered, hoping that was true.

He raised a brow, his smirk widening. “Mojitos, huh? Alright, I’ll take one.”

You nodded and quickly got to work, trying to ignore the way your hands were shaking. As you muddled the mint leaves and squeezed the lime, you could feel his eyes on you.

Jesus, what was his problem with the staring? Was there something on your face? Were you doing this whole thing wrong? It was unnerving. When you finally handed him the drink, he took it with a nod, but instead of walking away, he stayed there, sipping it slowly in front of you, like some kind of test. 

“You’re new here,” he remarked, more as a statement than a question.

You swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yeah, first day.”

He took another sip, “Not a bad start,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

Was he trying to be funny? You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure if he was mocking you or being genuine. Before he could say anything else, another customer called for your attention, and you turned away to help them. 

Rafe didn’t move. Even as you worked, he stayed rooted to his seat. Every time you glanced in his direction, he was still there, watching you, not looking the least bit shameful about it. He left eventually.

By six thirty, the club was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers lingering at the bar and some late-night golfers finishing their rounds. You wiped down the counter one last time, wondering how the hell you were going to get home. You’d almost forgotten about the earlier text from your friend, but now your anxiety was back. 

You didn’t have anyone else to call and walking home alone, at night was terrifying, small town or not. You pulled out your phone and stared at it, praying for another solution to pop into your head, but nothing came.

“Come on, think…” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. It was a mess after being up in a ponytail the entire day but it was starting to give you a headache, so you took it down, hoping it would help you think clearer. It didn't.

Taking a taxi would cost more than you could afford, especially on your shitty bartender’s salary. You were pacing back and forth behind the bar, wondering how your luck had already gone down the drain on your first day working. 

In your panic, you didn’t notice someone else standing outside the glass doors of the clubhouse, watching you with a keen eye. Rafe had finished his round of golf earlier and had been hanging around, talking to a few of his father’s friends. He almost laughed at how stressed you looked but took pity on you when you almost broke down into tears right there and then.

He couldn’t have that.

You didn’t even see him walk up to the door and push it open. The sound of it swinging shut behind him startled you, and you looked up, your eyes widening as he approached you.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t move closer, just stood there by the door, giving you space.

You stared at him, still trying to catch your breath, not exactly hiding how freaked out you were. “I— I’m fine,” you stammered out. You clutched your phone tightly, as if it could somehow find you a safe way home.

Rafe bit his lip, clearly not convinced, “Y’sure about that? Cause you look like you’re two seconds away from a meltdown.”

His words, though blunt, weren’t meant to be harsh. At least you didn’t think they were, but hearing them out loud made you realize just how close you were to losing it publicly, in your workplace. You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“It’s nothing, I just…uh, I don’t have a ride home,” you admitted reluctantly,. “My friend was supposed to pick me up, but her car broke down, and now I’m stuck here.” The last part came out in a rush, as if saying it faster would somehow make it less true.

This felt like the luckiest day in his life.

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding almost relieved. “I can take you home, no problem.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the offer. “What? No, I— I don’t want to impose, it’s late, and—”

You were so cute it almost made it impossible to scold you.

“You’re not imposing,” Rafe cut you off, “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone, especially at this hour. Just lemme give you a ride, okay?”

You hadn’t imagined him like this. Speaking to you, a pogue so…normally. There was something in his voice, in the way he spoke to you, that made you pause. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding. He was just offering help. He sounded nothing like the Rafe you’d heard about.

You hesitated, glancing back at your phone again as if you might find a better solution, but you knew deep down you weren’t finding shit. There was no one else you could call, no other option that made sense. And as much as you hated the idea of relying on someone you barely knew, on a kook of all people, you didn’t feel like sleeping on the streets.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, your voice quiet as you looked up at him. You hadn’t expected him to be so tall, “But just this once.”

Rafe’s lips twitched, “Just this once,” he echoed as he gestured toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He led you to his car, a sleek, black SUV that practically screamed money. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid inside, feeling a bit out of place. You’d never been inside such a luxurious vehicle. The plush leather seats were…something. You sat quietly, too scared to break something as he got in on the driver’s side, starting the engine with a quiet hum.

The drive started off in silence. You kept your eyes focused on the road, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were in Rafe Cameron’s car, being driven home by him. It sounded almost delusional. 

After a few minutes, Rafe spoke up “So, where do you live?” he asked, glancing over at you.

He knew you were a pogue, that was a given. But he’d never seen you around before.

You quickly gave him your address, and he nodded, adjusting the GPS on his dashboard. As he did, you couldn’t help but admire how calm and collected he seemed. It was almost unsettling how comfortable he was in situations like this—small talk with strangers, a situation that always has you squirming.  

“Thanks, by the way, I really appreciate it.”

He quickly glanced over at you, “Don’t mention it. It’s no big deal.”

Except it was. You were even prettier up close, and your perfume scent was messing with his head, if it wasn’t for the GPS's stupid robotic voice he’d be lost by now.

It was a big deal to you too. It wasn’t every day that someone like Rafe went out of their way to help someone like you. And the fact that he’d done it without a second thought, without expecting anything in return was very, very confusing. 

“First day at the club, huh?” Was he trying to make small talk with you? Oh wow. His tone was so casual, like this was the most normal conversation in the world, like you two had known each other for years, and weirdly enough, you didn’t mind. “How’d it go?”

You hesitated, not sure how much you should say. Your instinct was to lie and avoid making things awkward. “Oh, it was great,” your voice raised an octave as it always did when you tried to lie your way out of conversations, “Everyone was really nice!”

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the road as he let out a low chuckle. “Bullshit.”

Your smile faltered. “W-What?”

“Come on,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I watched you get run ragged by those assholes all day. You looked like you wanted to set the bar on fire.”

You opened your mouth to lie again, but before you could stop yourself, the self righteous girl in you decided to take charge. 

“Okay, fine, it was awful. Those people are the worst. They treat everyone like shit and act like they’re God’s gift to the world just because they’ve got money.” Your voice grew louder as you vented, all the frustration from the day spitting out, “I mean, who the fuck do they think they are? Just because they can afford to spend their summers at a country club doesn’t make them better than everyone else.”

Rafe’s laughter broke through your rant, and you stopped short, suddenly realizing who you were talking to. You turned to look at him, wide-eyed, your heart sinking. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered horrified, hand covering your mouth, “You’re a kook.”

He was laughing so hard that his shoulders shook, his hand gripping the steering wheel as he tried to catch his breath. “Holy shit,” he managed to wheeze out between laughs, “You really hate us, don’t you?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I didn’t mean you specifically,” you mumbled, your face burning, “I just...I don’t know what came over me.”

Rafe shook his head, still chuckling as he pulled up to a stoplight. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re not wrong about most of them. But, y’know, not all kooks are complete assholes.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, still mortified. “So you’re not an asshole?”

“Oh no, I am,” He snorted, “Just not to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, lowering your hands to your lap, “Good.”

You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was different than you’d imagined—more down-to-earth, less of a caricature of the wealthy villain you’d built up in your mind.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone still light, like he was holding back, trying not to scare you off, “What made you take the job at the club? Guessing it wasn’t for the stellar company.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I just needed a job for the summer, and they were the only place hiring.”

“Lucky us,” he said, and when you looked at him, he was giving you that same playful smirk. “You might be the only decent person in that place.”

Your cheeks warmed again, and you had to look away, fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt. “I don’t know about that,” you murmured.

He glanced over, noticing the shy way you avoided his gaze, and his smirk softened. “I do.”

You must’ve hit your head earlier.

Was he flirting with you of all people? He was going to send you into cardiac arrest. You didn’t know how to answer, so you stayed quiet, the silence only broken by the quiet hum of the car’s engine and the GPS’s occasional directions.

When Rafe finally pulled up in front of your house, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt. It felt like you had something more to say, but you weren’t sure what. He seemed to sense it too because he didn’t rush you, just turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, waiting.

You finally turned to him, “Thanks again, Rafe. For everything. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Anytime. Seriously. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

The offer seemed so sincere, so out of character for the guy you’d heard about, that it left you momentarily speechless. He kept proving you wrong. 

“I will.”

With a final nod, you pushed open the door and stepped out, the cool night air hitting you as you closed the door behind you. You took a few steps toward your house before turning back, catching one last glimpse of him sitting there. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened involuntarily when you looked back. He'd offered to drive girls home before—plenty of times, in fact—but this was different. When you waved, he felt like a schoolboy who only got to see his crush at school and spent the entire weekends daydreaming about her. 

Once you walked inside, he leaned back in his seat, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you sitting in his passenger seat, looking so out of place yet so perfect at the same time. Like you belonged right there, next to him. There was something so refreshingly genuine about you. You weren’t like the girls he knew—the ones who flaunted their wealth, who expected the world to bend over backward for them. You were different, unpretentious, and honest in a way that made him feel like he could drop the act for once.

Like he didn’t have to be Rafe Cameron, the reckless, arrogant kook.

No, with you, he could just be Rafe. And that was something he hadn’t realized he was missing until tonight.

He was done for. He knew he wasn’t going to stop until you were his.

The thought of anyone else having you, of you smiling at someone else the way you had at him tonight—it made him want to break someone’s teeth. He had a reputation, and he knew that if you heard even half of the stories about him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him after tonight. But he didn’t care. Because there was something about you that made him want to be better, to be the kind of guy you deserved.

He could already see it—the two of you, together. He’d give you the world, everything you deserved, and more. He’d make sure you never had to worry about a thing. You were perfect, too perfect for this world, and now that he’d found you, he wasn’t going to let you slip away. 

He’d make sure of it—you were going to be his girl. And nothing was going to stop him.

[chestersturniolo]

𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

Summary; you and chris have a strong, but complex connection. which neither of you manage to navigate. but what happens when you throw some tension and solo cups into the mix?

Warnings ; alcohol consumption ,quick mention of droogs, use of y/n, slight angst , slight fluff, swearing, third person perspective, random character appearance (for the plotttttt) 

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

An overwhelming wave of nerves crash over you,as you sit waiting for your uber to arrive. in a desperate attempt to calm them, you charge to the kitchen, pulling the first bottle of liquor you laid your eyes on from the cabinet. 

you waste no time, unscrewing the cap and taking a large gulp. you feel the warmth travel down your throat and spread through your chest, as you let out a choked cough. 

you hear your phone ding, with an uber notification “Arrived”

stashing the liquor back into the cabinet, you grab your purse and hastily make your way out of your apartment. 

~~~

As you sit in the darkness of the back of the uber, your eyes are fixed out of the window. in a trance, whilst the hundreds of ways tonight could pan out take over your mind. 

you had been invited to a party, that you knew for a fact chris would be at. this would usually make your stomach turn with excitement. instead , it’s turning with anxiety and anticipation.

you had known chris for years. but it’s only over the last few months that you had been exploring a new form of “relationship” with him. the problem was, any time feelings would get brought up, anytime your connection with him felt at its strongest , in the most intimate, heart felt moments, he would shut down in the blink of an eye. brushing it off, stomping out the fire between the two of you. 

and it hurt. 

you knew chris was terrified of intimacy. not sexual intimacy, he had zero problems in that department. but real, powerful, emotional intimacy. but it still hurt. he made you feel like you were nothing to him, just minutes after baring your souls to one another. 

eventually, you had enough. you grew tired of the mixed messages, the way he would look at you like you were the only girl on the planet, and the next minute like he didn’t care about you one single bit. it was confusing, and emotionally draining. you haven’t spoken to chris in two weeks now. which makes the anticipation of seeing his face again, all the more nerve wracking. 

“we’re here ma’am” 

the uber driver speaks, snapping you out of your trance.

“oh im sorry- thanks so much!” you blurt, quickly stepping out of the car. 

you yank your ridden up skirt back down before making your way up the driveway of the house. the thudding of the loud music floats through the air, the chatter of the groups of people gathered on the front lawn echoing into the night. 

you keep your eyes straight infront of you, to eliminate the possibility of spotting chris if you let them wonder. stepping through the front door, you wade your way through the crowds of people, making a b line for the kitchen. 

a sigh of relief escapes your mouth as your eyes land on the kitchen island, which is full of alcohol. bottles of liquor, mixers, beers , and a huge bowl of blue liquid and ice with god knows what in. nerves still coursing through your veins, you grab a red solo cup and pour , maybe a little too much, liquor in. 

~~~

after two cups worth of alcohol, you finally feel the nerves fully subside, quickly replacing with confidence. you push yourself off of the kitchen counter you’d been leaning on, before pouring yourself a third cup. deciding to finally mingle with the crowd, you make your way into the living room.

the strong smell of weed fills your nose as you push your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. the sticky hot air of the room engulfing you. 

“ayyy y/n!” you hear someone call out. 

you whip your head round to the direction of the voice, landing on one of your old friends. one of your old friends you used to sleep with in fact… 

a smile tugs at your lips as you make your way towards him. you left things on good terms, so it was actually really good to see him again. 

“Alex!” you chirp , as he scoops you into a hug

“hey stranger” he teases, pulling away from the embrace.

“how have you been?” you question,

the loud thumping of the music muffles his reply, squinting your eyes, trying to read his lips with no luck. he watches as you tap your ear with a shake of your head, signalling that you can’t hear him. he gives a soft nod of his head and leans in, to talk into your ear. 

you turn your head to listen, and your gaze immediately falls on the person you’ve been dreading to see. chris. sitting on the couch across the room, his eyes fixed on you and alex. 

you feel your heart start to pound, breath involuntarily hitching at the sight of him.

in this very moment, you mentally thank yourself for the generous amount of liquor you poured into your cup. managing to tear your eyes away from chris, you take a heavy swig from your cup. 

“y/n!?” 

the sound of alex’s voice snapping your attention toward him. the appearance of chris made you completely forget alex was even infront of you. realising that you didn’t hear a word of what he just said in your ear, you decide to play it off, as you pull him away from the speaker slightly. but making sure you were both still in chris’ eyeline. 

“sorry! i still couldn’t hear very well-” you bluff. 

“-so..have you missed me” you smirk, batting your eyelashes whilst placing a hand on alex’s chest. your bodies mere inches apart.

the alcohol pumping through your body works in your favour. instead of getting upset at the sight of chris, or going over to him, all you had was the urge to make him jealous. the toxic game felt so appealing to you. chris knew that you and alex had a history, so you knew it would drive him wild.

~~~

you continue your little game, as you very obviously flirt with alex as much as possible, giggling loudly and brushing his bicep with your hand. 

chris is still watching like a hawk from across the room,his burning gaze very apparent to you. his jaw tightly clenched, his fingertips digging into the armrest of the couch as he watches you throw yourself at another man. 

he keeps his stern eyes locked onto you, his anger and jealously escalating.

you decide to push chris as far as you can, as you reach up and pull alex downwards, attaching your lips to his. you allow the kiss to get more heated as you part your mouth, his hands resting on your waist. 

chris’ immediately rises to his feet when he sees this, charging towards the two of you. the anger becoming too much to contain. he grabs you by your wrist with a firm grip, quickly ripping you away from alex’s grasp. you trip over your feet slightly as he drags you through the crowded room. 

“chris what the fuck!” you shout , trying to pull of of his grip, quickly failing. 

he ignores you, as he pulls you into an empty bathroom. slamming the door behind you both, he turns his body to lock the door as you stand behind him in confusion, trying to catch your breathe. 

“wha-what the fuck are you doing?!” you gasp

chris whips his body around towards you, his face full of rage. 

“what am i doing???what the fuck are you doing y/n?!!” chris yells.

“i’m just having fun for god sakes! what’s your problem!?” you yell back, matching his tone.

although your whole goal was to make chris angry and jealous, you were still slightly taken aback by how well it worked. 

“my problem?! you’re throwing yourself all over fucking alex right infront of me?!” he exclaims, the veins in his neck bulging.

“okay so?! why do you care?!” you question, raising your eyebrows. 

chris takes a step closer 

“i care because your fucking mine!!!”

you pause in disbelief at his words. letting out a loud scoff with the shake of your head. you narrow your eyes at him.

“yours? i’m not yours chris-“ you start

“-i could have been yours. but you ruined it. anytime we made any kind of emotional progression you shut me out! i haven’t heard a peep from you in two weeks, and you think you can drag me in here claiming im yours ? are you fucking serious right now?!” you screech.

a silence fills the room as you wait for chris’ response. you watch his gaze fall to the floor as he lets out a long sigh. 

you stand there waiting for some kind of communication, but nothing. 

you roll your eyes as you push past him, unlocking the door and reaching for the handle.

chris hand slams on the door, holding it firmly shut. 

“move chris” you warn, without looking at him.

“no, y/n just wait okay…please?” he begs, his voice now at a low, respectful volume. 

you turn your body towards chris, his expression now soft and pleading, heavily juxtaposing the furious face he previously wore. you can’t help but feel yourself begin to soften under stare. but you quickly replace the pretty face with the facts.

“no. no more waiting. i gave you a chance chris and you messed it up. i deserve more! i’m done with this conversation and im done with you!” 

your heart aches as the words leave your mouth. you didn’t want to be done. not one bit. but you knew that’s how it had to be. chris couldn’t give you what you wanted. him. all of him. 

you watch as chris’ face falls. he removes his hand from the door, rubbing it over his face. 

“don’t say that…please just stay and we can talk this out okay?” chris says, his voice laced with desperation. 

“why should i?!” you question.

the room once again falls silent. the final lifeline to save your “relationship” slipping away. feeling defeated , you once again turn to the door

“goodbye chr-“ 

“fuck-because i’m in love with you!!!!”

you freeze at chris’ confession. completely and utterly caught off guard. you slowly turn around to meet his eyes.

“w-what?” 

chris takes a deep breathe

“i said…because im in love with you-“ he starts , his voice full of meaning.

“-completely, and utterly in love with you” 

you stand infront of him, a statue of disbelief, with your mouth agape as you listen.

“and it scares the fuck out of me y/n. i’ve never felt like this about anyone before. that’s why i acted the way i did. i felt myself falling and i was trying to stop myself, i was stupid i know -”

chris inches closer to you as he talks,he reaches out to delicately cup your face with his hands.

 “-i didnt reach out these past two weeks because i knew the affect you have on me, i knew i wouldn’t be able to stop myself falling for much longer. little did i know i already fell…seeing you here tonight with alex just made everything crystal clear to me. you drive me fucking crazy!  i need you y/n, i want yo-“ 

you cut chris’ rant off by crashing your lips into his. his hands fall from your cheeks and find a home on your waist, pulling you closer. the kiss was full of passion, it felt different to the hundreds of kisses the two of you had shared before. chris finally admitting his feelings reignited the fire between the two of you. 

you pull yourself away from his lips, keeping your face just inches away from his, the tips of your noses brushing together as both of you catch your breathe. 

“you really mean that?” you whisper

you watch a small smile form on chris’ face as he nods softly 

“every word”

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

a/n; first time writing in third personnn and i didn’t hate it as much as i thought i would🤌🏼

thankyou for readiinnngg hope you enjoyed🤍

taglist ; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh @phone4pills @demzzz @dripgodnay

(let me know if you’d like to be on my tag list and i’ll add you ✨)

PS- requests open

[pin-k-ink]

linger // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ quickie, rough sex, semi public sex, masturbation, biting/marking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, making out, hoshina is fucking horny

wc ⇢ 2.7k

Your hips swayed hypnotically as you strode through the bedroom doorway, duffle bag slung over one shoulder. Soshiro couldn't tear his eyes away from the enticing roll of your curves even if he tried.

He sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists atop his thighs. Jaw clenched, throat bobbing convulsively as he fought with everything he had not to pounce and haul you bodily into his lap right then and there.

Two weeks. It had been two goddamn weeks since Soshiro last had a chance to properly touch you. To run his palms over the lush valleys and dips of your body he knew so intimately. To grip your hips as he buried his cock to the hilt inside your velvet cunt while your fingernails scored down his back deliriously.

His cock strained painfully against the front of his sweatpants, rapidly swelling thicker at just the memory of your breathless cries and the way you trembled around him so perfectly. Soshiro cursed under his breath as you bent over, ass practically on display in those tight leggings, gathering something off the floor.

Fuck, he was going insane not being able to put his hands and mouth all over you. The itch beneath his skin was becoming unbearable with each passing moment spent in your proximity but unable to indulge. Soshiro's focus zeroed in on the inviting curve of your spine, imagining dragging his tongue along that tantalizing path and tasting the salt on your skin.

You straightened up and he quickly averted his gaze, chest heaving like he'd just run sprints. Hands flexing with the effort of not reaching out and touching as you sauntered closer.

"You know..." Soshiro ground out through gritted teeth. "A guy could start feeling real neglected with how much time you've been spending away lately, gorgeous."

He caught the flash of a smirk over your lips out of the corner of his eye and clenched his jaw tighter, fingernails biting into his palms. You always got that little amused quirk whenever he started getting frustrated over lack of sex.

"Maybe if someone wasn't always so impatient about getting me naked and into bed, this separation anxiety wouldn't hit him so hard," you teased lightly.

A muscle in Soshiro's cheek twitched at your taunting tone, heat lancing straight through his core. He jerked his piercing gaze up to pin you with a glare smoldering enough to scorch.

"Don't play coy, babygirl," he growled raspily. "I know you miss feeling me buried deep too, fucking you until you're a whimpering mess beneath me as much as I crave it."

The blatant confession hung heavy in the charged air between you. Soshiro watched hungrily as your cheeks flushed and pulse fluttered in that pale throat of yours. Taking your lip between your teeth in that maddeningly alluring way that always made him want to bite and suck until they were swollen.

God, he needed to touch you. To slake this scorching thirst driving him half out of his mind before leaving for your damn deployment. Soshiro couldn't take being separated from your body for that long without at least one more drawn-out tasting to tide him over.

He was on his feet and stalking towards you before the conscious thought fully formed. You sucked in a sharp breath but held your ground, back stiffening as if preparing for the onslaught of his intensity.

Strong hands gripped your hips with bruising force as Soshiro crowded you backwards until your spine met the wall. His hungry gaze raked over your parted lips, the rapid flutter of your pulse, those dark eyes gone wide with a heady mixture of arousal and trepidation

"Tell me you don't need this too, gorgeous," Soshiro rasped against the tempting curve of your jaw, nipping with just enough delicious sting to make you jerk. "Just one round before you leave me behind again for god knows how long..."

Despite his demanding tone, his touch remained reverent. Palms spanning the dips of your waist, the flare of your hips, committing every inch to rapturous memory. When Soshiro finally claimed your mouth in a searing, lush glide, it took every ounce of restraint not to simply shove you down and take you against the bedroom wall right then and there.

Soshiro's hands roamed over your body greedily as your heated kiss quickly turned frantic. He backed you up until the wall was a solid line against your spine, grinding his painfully stiff cock against your clothed pussy shamelessly.

When you started tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, he groaned into your mouth - finally about to get some relief for the aching tension that had been torturing him for weeks on end. But then you suddenly wrenched away, leaving him panting harshly.

"S-Stop, Soshiro..." you managed breathlessly, hands braced against his chest. "I have to be on that transport in less than thirty minutes, we don't have time..."

A gravelly snarl ripped free from his throat as you wiggled out of his grip completely. Soshiro's fingers flexed with the visceral need to simply grab you again and take what he so desperately craved one last time before being denied for god knows how long.

But that sane part of him understood your duty couldn't be delayed or ignored no matter how delirious his hunger raged. So he could only watch in agonized silence as you scooped up your bags and moved towards the bedroom door with one last apologetic look over your shoulder.

When you finally slipped out of sight down the hallway, Soshiro's knees nearly buckled. He collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving, and scrubbed his palms over his face roughly. The scent of your arousal still clung to his skin like a cruel torment, cock throbbing almost painfully where it remained trapped in his pants.

"Fuck!" he growled, fisting his hands in the disheveled sheets as desperate arousal crashed over him in searing waves.

Soshiro's other hand drifted down to frantically work at freeing his leaking cock, desperate for some meager shred of relief from the exquisite ache. His eyes slid shut as he pictured it was your delicate fingers wrapping around his girth instead, mouth going dry.

How many nights had he lain awake consumed by memories of you taking him to the root, inch by slick inch between those plush lips? Or the heat of your silken walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out inside you over and over again?

The first few strokes were hardly enough to staunch the overwhelming tide. Soshiro growled in fresh frustration, pumping his fist up and down his throbbing erection with increasing urgency. But without the blissful completion of actually burying himself to the hilt inside your lush body, it was all just a futile exercise in delaying his torment a while longer.

Suddenly, an idea sparked molten urgency in Soshiro's gut. You had said less than thirty minutes, right? Which meant if he moved quickly and caught you before the transport took off...

Soshiro scrambled up from the bed, tucking himself back into his rumpled sweats hastily. If he hurried, he might still make it to the loading docks in time. One final, searing reunion branded into both your memories before a drought of indeterminate length had to endure.

Soshiro was out the door hardly ten seconds later, practically sprinting down the corridor as he rapidly formulated his impromptu strategy. He knew you'd try to turn him away at first out of duty, but between breathless pleas and that molten smolder he could pin you with...

Well, Soshiro thought with a wolfish grin as the loading ramp came into view, there was no way in hell you'd refuse letting your man indulge in one last soul-searing joining before your separation. Not when he planned to take you apart with such feverish, rapturous worship that you'd simply have no choice but to surrender entirely over to bliss until your imminent departure.

Soshiro spotted you immediately, checking over your field gear amidst the milling soldiers prepping the transport for launch. His hooded gaze raked over the lines of your combat suit hungrily, cock giving a traitorous throb at the memories of peeling you out of that second skin far too many nights ago.

He licked his lips unconsciously, then began prowling forward with unhurried purpose - gait rolling with that innate leonine grace that never failed to raise goosebumps along your arms when he moved with such predatory intent. Soshiro waited until your back was turned before closing the final distance in a few powerful strides.

Without preamble, he banded one thick forearm across the soft planes of your abdomen and wrenched you backwards into the solid wall of his chest. You made a startled noise that barely had time to escape before his mouth sealed over yours in a searing, velvet brand of possession and liquid heat.

Soshiro relished in your instantaneous surrender - the way your lips parted readily for the insistent glide of his tongue and hands fisted in his rumpled shirt with bone-deep yearning. He angled his hips with practiced rolls, pinning you flush against the rigid throb of his cock as a low, thrumming growl echoed between your joined forms.

"I couldn't let you go that easy, babygirl," he rasped against the fevered hollow beneath your jaw, worrying the sensitive flesh with scraping teeth. "Not without giving that beautiful body of yours one more reminder of what it has to look forward to as soon as you come back..."

You whimpered out a breathless sound of pure need, already arching wantonly into his roaming palms as they roved over the taut feminine lines beneath that unforgiving combat suit. Soshiro groaned in approval, tongue chasing the erratic flutter of your pulse before he sealed his mouth back over yours in a lush, demanding glide sure to leave you addled and aching for countless nights to come.

With zero compunction for your imminent departure timeline, he deftly maneuvered you both into the nearest unoccupied utility closet - far too consumed by the intoxicating ambrosia of your rapturous surrender to let any further distractions intervene. Soshiro kicked the door shut behind you with one booted foot and pressed your back flush against the metal surface.

"Gonna fuck you right here, gorgeous," he snarled raggedly, yanking down the zipper of your combat suit with shaking hands. "Gonna fill you up so deep, leave you dripping with my cum while you're out there..."

"Soshiro," you gasped out, clinging to his shoulders as he rucked the fabric of your combat suit down around your hips. "We have to - ngh - to hurry..."

Your words cut off in a keening moan as he hoisted you bodily up onto a nearby storage rack, shoving the bunched fabric of your suit aside to expose your drenched panties. Soshiro licked his lips, pupils blown wide and fixed with laser focus as he tugged the soaked cotton aside and bared your glistening sex to his hungry gaze.

"Oh, I plan to, babygirl," he rasped. "So don't you worry - we'll be quick and dirty, just like old times."

With no further warning, Soshiro buried his cock to the hilt in a single, brutal thrust. Your answering cry was equal parts pained and delirious as he pinned you flat against the wall with the force, hilting himself over and over again in a frenzy of need and wanton greed.

You writhed against him, nails clawing at his back and teeth scoring the thick column of his throat as the rack juddered against the wall with each frantic snap of his hips. Soshiro's own hands were busy groping every lush curve within reach, teeth and tongue marking every exposed patch of skin he could reach while his cock plunged ever deeper inside your tight cunt.

"F-fuck, missed you," he ground out raggedly, fingers digging bruises into the plush swell of your hips as he hauled you against his body in time with each urgent thrust. "Missed this - ah, fuck - s-so goddamn perfect."

The air was a cacophony of panting gasps, breathy whimpers, and the obscene squelch of your bodies colliding in the scant space between. Each brutal impact sent fresh sparks of electricity crackling through your core, drawing your legs tighter around his hips and dragging his mouth back to yours in a sloppy, messy clash.

You both knew you didn't have long. Soshiro's pace turned ever more feverish, the air between your joined forms so hot and heavy it was like drowning in liquid fire. The friction of his rigid cock pistoning inside your fluttering cunt, the bite of his fingers on your hips, the slick glide of your tongues tangling - it was all too much and not nearly enough.

You tore your mouth away to gulp down a breath, eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched as your release built with white-hot intensity. Soshiro took the opportunity to suck a dark, blooming bruise onto the tempting curve of your neck, sharp canines digging in with just enough sting to tip you over the edge.

Your inner walls clamped down with near painful force as orgasm hit like a shockwave. You shuddered violently against him, nails scoring angry red furrows into his biceps as you squirted wetly around his plunging cock. Soshiro let out a garbled moan at the sensation, head thrown back and neck corded with tension.

He fucked you through it, pace growing more and more erratic as your trembling cunt rippled and pulsed around him in a mind-numbing blur of pleasure. You felt his cock jerk and spasm inside you as he bottomed out one last time with a hoarse cry, hot ropes of cum filling you so deep your thighs quaked from the sheer intensity.

Soshiro's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, forehead pressed to yours and palms cradling your face reverently. You were both a sticky mess, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted was to bask in the warmth of your embrace a while longer, basking in the afterglow and chasing the lingering tingles still sparking up and down his spine.

It was only the urgent blare of an overhead siren that forced him to let you slip from his arms, reluctantly pulling out and setting you gingerly back onto the floor. You swayed slightly, still woozy and unsteady, and Soshiro grinned crookedly.

"Sorry about that, babygirl," he husked, tucking his softening cock back into his sweats. "Got a little carried away there for a minute."

He reached over to gather the leaking cum seeping down the inside of your thighs, scooping it back inside and working his fingers in deep. You made a helpless sound in the back of your throat as he curled them upwards and rubbed mercilessly against that spongy spot on your front wall, sending a fresh shockwave of pleasure through your sensitive body.

Soshiro withdrew his fingers with a smug smirk and tugged your panties back into place. He watched the way the fabric clung to the slick, puffy lips of your pussy, cock twitching traitorously as the urge to simply rip them away and go for round two reared its head once more.

Instead, Soshiro helped you wriggle back into the bunched fabric of your combat suit. He silently zipped you back up, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your brow. "You better come back to me safe and sound," he murmured gruffly. "Or I'll come get you myself."

You hummed in agreement, tilting your head up for a final, searing kiss. Soshiro held you close as he savored the plush glide of your mouths sliding together, his tongue coaxing your lips apart and stroking yours with a reverent, tender languidness.

Too soon, the overhead sirens blared louder and louder, and you were forced to reluctantly pull apart. Soshiro's eyes were bright with longing, but his smile was reassuring. "I love you, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing a thumb across the apple of your cheek.

You returned his tender smile and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Love you too," you murmured back, giving his hand a parting squeeze before slipping out the door.

Soshiro watched as you disappeared down the hallway, heart hammering a furious rhythm against his ribcage. Two weeks, maybe three at the most. That's how long he'd have to hold out before the two of you were reunited.

Soshiro licked his lips, recalling the way you tasted - how you felt wrapped so tight around him, and his cock gave another traitorous throb.

Yeah, he was definitely in for a long haul...

[gunnerfc]

It’s Tradition | Leah Williamson x Arsenal!Reader (18+)

Summary: You have a habit of celebrating a win by hooking up with someone, but now you’re in a new country with a new club where you haven’t had a chance to explore the bar scene. Your teammate offers to keep the tradition going.

Warnings: bottom leah, top reader, oral (leah receiving)

WC: 2k

AN: short fic in honor of her birthday 🤪

You cheered softly once the ref blew the whistle, signally the end of the game. Arsenal came out with a win over United which saw two goals from you to win the game. You had signed with Arsenal recently during the transfer window and to win your first game was exciting. You quickly shook hands with the home side before you were crowded by Kyra and Vic, yelling as they jumped on you.

You laughed at their antics before you were all gathered in a huddle by Jonas who congratulated the team on the win. You tuned out your coach as your eyes locked on Leah, your eyes subtlety scanning her body. Since you joined the team, you and the blonde have had a very flirty relationship. Nothing ever happened between the two of you due to having zero time to push the relationship further. 

As your mind ran with thoughts of the blonde, you remembered you were two roommates during this away fixture. You smirked to yourself about the possibility of exploring a new relationship with the defender but you dropped your smirk when you caught her eye. You sent her a teasing wink before Jonas dismissed the team to thank the traveling supporters. You stuck with Kyra, Alessia, and Vic as you made your rounds, hoping to drag out being close to Leah.

Leah was in a similar position, her thoughts were filled with you and the many teasing comments you’ve made to her since you arrived in London. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about what it would be like to go further with you. Knowing you two would have a room to yourselves was proving the push you two needed.

After thanking the fans, the team was quick to the locker room to change and head for the team bus, everyone opting to take showers back at the hotel. As you gathered your things, you could feel Leah’s eyes on you, following your every move. When you headed for the door with Alessia, you brushed past Leah, your hand hiting hers lightly as you moved. The small amount of contact left a burning sensation on your skin, and the need for more growing.

You stayed to yourself on the bus, your thoughts full of Leah and how the blonde would sound as she moaned your name. You tried to control your breathing as your imagination took control, hoping that the blonde was not able to see your heaving chest. You sighed to yourself when the bus pulled up to the hotel, happy to finally be off the bus. It took a bit of waiting as the team took the elevators up but you were surprised to find Leah waiting for you by your door instead of going in on her own.

You offered a small smile as she opened the door for you as you both said a quick goodnight to your teammates who were still in the hallway. You groaned when you threw your things down, the roughness of the match starting to hit you. Leah tried her best to ignore the sound that escaped your lips as she sat on the end of her bed to take her shoes off. The blonde tossed them to her pile of things as you moved to get clothes out to take a shower.

The silence between the two of you was thick as neither of you knew exactly what to say. Deciding to make small talk, the blonde broke the silence as she watched you. “So, how did you celebrate a win back in Germany,” she asked, her eyes on your back.

You froze in your spot by your suitcase when you heard her question. You had a particular reputation that certainly followed you around so you knew Leah knew the answer to her question. “Um, sex mainly,” you laughed softly.

Since you’ve moved to London, you haven’t had the time to explore any of the social settings that would have been a great way to meet a one night stand. You liked to celebrate winning with great sex but since you were in a new country, your tradition was going to be broken after your first Arsenal win. You didn’t turn to meet Leah’s gaze at first but you spun around to find her eyes locked on your body.

“How do you plan on keeping your tradition going tonight,” the blonde said quietly, swallowing lightly when your eyes met.

“Not sure, I don’t think I can keep it going,” you shrugged, not really caring about continuing it anymore since you met Leah.

“You can’t break the tradition. What if it’s your good luck charm,” the defender joked, her breathing picking up slightly.

You didn’t speak as you contemplated her words, you weren't sure if she was offering something or not and didn’t want to overstep if she wasn't into it. As you opened your mouth to respond, Leah beat you to it.

“If you need someone to help keep it alive…” she trailed off, hoping you would pick up on what she was saying. 

You raised an eyebrow at her words, a small smirk gracing your features. A red tint coated the blonde’s cheeks under your gaze and at the thought of you fucking her. You sat down the clothes you had picked up, your mind focused on other things rather than a shower. You bit your bottom lip softly as you walked toward the other bed the blonde was sitting on. The defender was leaning back on her hands as her legs dangled off the edge of the bed as you made your way in between her legs. Leah sat up as she looked up at you, your eyes scanning her features as you moved a hand to push her hair behind her ear.

The sounds of heavy breathing from both of you filled the room as you traced your thumb along Leah’s jawline. You moved your thumb to trace against her bottom lip before pushing your finger into her mouth, her lips wrapping around your thumb softly. You didn’t have to tell the blonde what to do as she softly sucked on the finger in her mouth, her eyes still locked with yours.

You pulled your now wet thumb from her mouth, tracing it on her bottom lip once more. The overwhelming urge to kiss her was driving you crazy. You brought both hands to rest on her cheeks, tilting her head back slightly as you leaned down to connect your lips. Your mouths moved against each other deeply, yours easily winning control as your tongue slipped through her lips and explored her mouth. Leah moaned into the kiss and you felt your knees go weak at the sound.

You kept your lips locked with hers for a few moments before you pulled back when air became an issue. You took a step back from the blonde to lift your shirt over your head, tossing it to the other side of the room. Leah got the memo and stood from her bed to strip out of the clothes she changed into back at the stadium. Once you were both naked, you let your eyes linger on every part of her body. 

Your lips were back on hers, this time in a rougher kiss as you guided her back onto the bed and up toward the pillows. It was your turn to moan when you felt her bare chest against your own, both of your hardened nipples hitting each other. You pulled back from her swollen lips, lightly biting her bottom lip and pulling it slightly before your lips landed on her neck.

As much as you wanted to leave hickies all over her skin, you knew if you did so your teammates would have an insane amount of questions in the morning. You weren’t sure what this would do to your relationship with Leah but that was for you two to figure out on your own. You kissed down her neck toward her chest, hoping that that would be an acceptable place to leave dark bruise-like marks. You sucked on her skin here and there, pulling soft gasps from the blonde as you did so.

You made your way to her breasts, leaving small kisses in the valley of her chest before moving your lips to one of her nipples. You sucked the hardened bud into your mouth as Leah’s head fell back against the hotel pillows in pleasure. You stayed in your spot for a few seconds longer before pulling away to give her other nipple the same treatment. Leah’s gasps turned into soft moans as one of her hands tangled in your hair to press closer to her chest. 

You let go of her nipple to continue kissing down her toned stomach, leaving small nips here and there. You left a few kisses along the tops of her thighs before you were right where she needed you. You could tell she was already wet, the blonde didn’t need much to affect her. You blew slightly against her wet cunt, earning a whine from above at the cool sensation. You smirked to yourself before you placed a small kiss on her clit. Leah’s whine got louder at your actions and her hand that wasn’t in your hair shot to cover her mouth. The last thing she wanted was for whoever was on the other side of the wall to hear her. 

Your kisses became longer before you took her sensitive clit in your mouth, sucking and running your tongue over it. Leah moaned loudly into her hand as the grip on your hair became tighter with each flick of your tongue. You kept your lips wrapped around her clit as your hands moved to wrap around her thighs. You moaned softly as you tasted the blonde, the vibrations of your moans sending shockwaves through her.

You pulled back as best as you could considering the way she was pushing you closer to run your tongue through her soaked folds. Leah’s back arched off the bed as her hips rolled slightly to urge you to do it again. You laughed softly to yourself at her eagerness but complied with her requests, licking up slowly to savor the taste of her in your mouth.

You sped up your movements, your tongue dipping into her every so often to tease her. After tasting the defender, you would spend the rest of your life between her thighs if you could. You kept a steady pace as you went down on her, not wanting to rush anything and wanting her to enjoy the pleasure she was feeling. As her hips stuttered in their movements, you could tell Leah was close to coming. 

“F-fuck, please, y/n,” the blonde begged softly, her eyes screwed shut as her chest heaved.

You didn’t hold back as you fucked her with your tongue, catching every last drop of her as her back arched once more. Leah toppled over, her orgasm hitting her hard as you kept up your ministrations to help her ride out her high. You only pulled away when Leah whined at the overstimulation. 

Her hand left your hair and fell to the mattress under her as she kept her eyes closed. You moved up her body before locking lips with her once again, this kiss a bit slower than the previous one. Leah moaned against your lips as she tasted herself on your lips. 

You pulled back with a teasing smirk on your face as you watched her eyes flutter open. “My tradition is alive and well now,” you joked, earning a small laugh from the blonde. 

You let your eyes take in her expression, finding the dazed look from an intense orgasm extremely attractive. 

“But, just as a safety measure, I think we gotta go again,” you spoke with a raised eyebrow. 

One of your hands traced down Leah’s body at a slow speed, slightly teasing her. You spent the rest of the evening making sure your ‘tradition’ stayed intact, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your teammate. Maybe you didn’t need to explore the bar scene to meet people after a win, you had Leah to celebrate with now.

[struggling-with-drivers]

People Watching - Lando Norris

⋗ Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader

⋗ Summary - You've never been in love, at least you don't think you have

⋗ Word count - 2k words, fluff, [Requested by Anon]

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, this was just a short cute idea I had on my mind after getting a request. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

You’re enjoying a nice lunch with Lando. He has a lot of things to be doing after, but for now. It’s just the two of you, a set of good friends. Your eyes wander over his face, a soft look of concentration is on his face as he tries to take pictures of you and your lunch. The way his lips are slightly strained, as he keeps fiddling with his camera. Then he rearranges your glasses, and then he puts them back, before rearranging them once more. 

“Do you need help?” You ask, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, as he can’t seem to get the shot he wants.

“No no, just keep sitting there, you look good!” He chirps up, quickly dismissing the thought of you moving from the pose he instructed you into. 

Your laugh finally makes it way past your lips, at the absurdity of the scene, your eyes close as the flash goes off once more. You don’t notice how Lando mutters, got it, nor how he takes a few more just for his enjoyment. 

“Time to dig in.” Lando scrambles to sit down and stuffs his mouth with his slightly cold food. 

You stick a bit to your food, but your gaze falls out onto the crowd of people navigating outside. So many couples are spread across the grid as all the fans gather to get a closer look at the cars. Despite your perspective from above, the thing most glaring to you seems to be all the hands clasped into others. 

“How long do you think they’ve been together?” 

“What?” Lando looks up from his plate of food, trying to follow your gaze, but he gets lost in the crowd of people immediately, not at all being able to figure out where your eyes are looking. 

“The elderly couple.” You say, as though it’s the most obvious thing, as though there aren’t multiple, as though you and Lando didn’t call Max Verstappen and his girlfriend an elderly couple last weekend, despite Max barely being 2.5 years older than Lando and less than 2 years older than you. 

“Three days.” Lando says, voice full of conviction, “They actually met this Tuesday and have had the wildest sex for 3 days straight, before any of their children realise that their parents are missing from the nursery home.” 

You snort loudly, accidentally getting soda into your nose, making Lando laugh with you, as you struggle to breathe. 

After recovering from your soda mishap, you wipe your nose with a napkin, still chuckling. Lando grins mischievously, taking a sip of his drink as he watches you with amusement.

“Smooth move, right?” he teases, referring to his imaginative tale about the elderly couple. “I mean, who wouldn't want a love story like that? Beats the usual 'met in high school and got married' scenario.”

You both share another round of laughter, the casual banter making the lunch even more enjoyable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” You sigh wistfully as you glance down at the crowd of people once more. “Not seriously. I mean, I’ve had a fling here and there, and a few you don’t know about.”

“Ouch.” Lando mocks being hurt, as he throws a piece of lettuce in your direction. Missing you completely. He’s an excellent driver, but a terrible thrower. You’re suddenly elated that he never became a handball athlete or a basketball player. 

“I just mean, I’ve never had that big grand love moment, you know. Nobody has ever done any big gestures, I’ve never had fireworks go off during a kiss. Never pictured that American suburban picket fence dream, you know?” You rattle off as Lando leans his head to the side. You can see the grin on his face before the words leave his mouth. 

“And here I thought you loved me,” he throws another piece of lettuce in your direction. It lands on your plate, and you cock an eyebrow at him, very unimpressed. “I don’t think I know anyone else that would get up at 3 am just to make the world's worst pancakes, all because it’s some pancake holiday, and I had to be out of the door at 5 am.”

The memory of that early morning springs vividly to your mind, and you can't help but chuckle at the recollection.

The night before Pancake Day, you meticulously planned your pancake surprise for Lando. You envisioned a perfect morning: the smell of freshly made pancakes wafting through the air, the joy on Lando's face as he discovered the delightful breakfast you had prepared just for him. However, the universe had other plans.

At 3 am, you tiptoed into the kitchen, trying your best to be as quiet as a ninja. Armed with a box of pancake mix, a whisk, and an optimistic spirit, you were ready to conquer the culinary world for the sake of surprising your friend.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you moved with caution, not wanting to wake anyone up. As you began mixing the ingredients, you felt a surge of determination. This was going to be the breakfast surprise of the century. You even hummed a little tune as you worked, believing that love and effort could conquer any culinary challenge.

However, in your sleepy stupor, you made a crucial mistake. The sugar and salt containers looked eerily similar in the low light, and without double-checking, you confidently poured what you thought was sugar into the mix. Little did you know, you had just set the stage for a disastrous flavour profile.

Undeterred, you moved on, mistakenly grabbing the baking powder instead of the baking soda. As you mixed the concoction, the batter started to take on an unusual texture, but you pressed on, convinced that your culinary masterpiece was just a few flips away.

With the batter ready, you heated the pan and poured the first pancake, envisioning its perfect golden-brown finish. However, the sizzle that followed was more like a hiss, and the kitchen started to fill with an unpleasant aroma. You tried to fan away the smoke, hoping that the burnt scent wouldn't reach Lando's bedroom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. As the smoke thickened, a piercing sound echoed through the apartment – the unmistakable wail of the smoke detector. Panic set in, and you rushed to open windows, waving a towel at the alarm, and desperately trying to save the surprise.

Meanwhile, Lando stirred in his sleep, disturbed by the cacophony of the smoke detector. He stumbled out of his bedroom, bleary-eyed and disoriented, only to find you amid your culinary chaos, smoke billowing around you.

“Ah, Pancake Day,” you say with a grin. “I thought it would be a fantastic idea to surprise you with a breakfast feast before your busy day. On the other hand, I gave you a free day off from having to sit in on a bunch of meetings.”

“Yeah, because my house nearly burnt down, and a bunch of firefighters showed up.” Lando waves his fork at you. “I doubt a lot of other people would have done that.”

“Tried to burn down your flat?” You mock him, as you flick the piece of lettuce back to his plate. 

He laughs, shaking his head. You’re missing his point, but he’s also not attempting to make it clearer for you. 

“What about when I stay up with you on the phone, because a sale is starting past midnight, but you’re barely holding it together and it’s not even 10 pm? Isn’t that an act of love?” He asks, but he leaves no room for you to answer his question as he goes back to eating. 

Lando can’t see the storm that’s slowly brewing behind your eyes, as you go over memories of your friendship. All the small things you do for each other. All the time you spend together. 

As the memories flood your mind, you find yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The snippets of shared moments and small gestures between you and Lando become a cherished montage.

There's the time when he surprised you with a playlist of your favourite songs on a day when you were feeling down, the carefully curated mix capturing the essence of your friendship. You remember the genuine joy on his face as he handed over the playlist, completely aware of how much music meant to you.

Then, there are the instances when you stayed up late into the night, listening to his racing stories and sharing in his victories and disappointments. You recall the laughter and camaraderie that transcended the distance, making those late-night conversations a treasured part of your connection.

Lando smirks mischievously as he eyes the last bite of your dessert.

"Mind if I grab that last piece? You know I need the extra energy for my thrilling life as a driver."

You narrow your eyes at him, holding the fork protectively. "Oh, please. The only thrill you get is trying to beat me at Mario Kart."

He chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I'll have you know that being a Mario Kart champion requires skill and precision. It's practically a training regimen for the racetrack."

You scoff, taking a deliberate bite of the dessert. "Skill and precision? Last time I checked, you kept getting stuck in the void on Rainbow Road."

"That was a strategic move. I needed a better view of the stars," he replies with a grin, trying to swipe the fork again.

You playfully slap his hand away. "Nice try, but you're not getting this last piece. I already had to fight off your trainer once this month, because you keep stealing my food."

Lando feigns offence, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you saying I don't have the physique of a finely tuned athlete?"

"I'm saying you have the physique of someone who eats all the desserts that aren’t meant for finely-tuned athletes," you retort, 

He leans in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, at least I can burn it off on the track. What's your excuse?"

You raise an eyebrow. "I burn calories, dodging your attempts to steal my food. It's a full-body workout, really."

"Fair enough. But mark my words, next time we play Mario Kart, you won't stand a chance." Lando laughs, shaking his head. 

"Bring it on, slowpoke. I'll be waiting with banana peels and blue shells," you challenge, finishing the dessert triumphantly, savouring the last bite right in front of him. Silence falls as he starts typing on his phone, and your mind gets distracted by what he said earlier.

As Lando mentioned, the nights when he stood by you during stressful sales and business endeavours resurface in your mind. The unwavering support he offered, even when the clock struck midnight and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm you, painted a picture of love in the small actions.

And of course, there are the countless times when he'd spontaneously pop by with your favourite snacks or the coffee blend you adore, just because he remembered. Those little acts of consideration spoke volumes.

Lost in these memories, you realise that love comes in various forms. It's not always grand gestures or sweeping romantic moments. It's found in the everyday kindness, the shared laughter, and the unwavering support that defines your friendship with Lando.

A thought strikes you down.

Do you love Lando?

Lando glances up from his phone, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He meets your gaze, and there's a silent understanding between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of shared laughter, failed pancake attempts, and genuine care, you realise that love, in its purest form, is already present in the beautiful tapestry of your friendship with Lando.

An even more terrifying thought hits you as he looks at you with that soft smile and those shiny eyes. 

Does Lando love you?

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, I had a lot of fun writing this small piece, it was just pure fluff and enjoyment

[longing-for-the-past-times]

The four times you fell asleep on Ghost and the one time Ghost fell asleep on you - three.

simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

word count: 4,057

synopsis: you get wasted in a pub and Ghost has to take care of you.

warnings: mentions of drinking, occasional swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, Ghost being a softie

notes: I had a lot of fun writing this. Here are the main videos that inspired some scenes (potential spoiler alert): one, two

reader's callsign is Bambi (she/her)

find it on ao3 part one part two part three part four part five

masterlist

three.

The traditional post-mission gathering at the pub was in full swing in the late hours of the night, despite it being a Tuesday evening. The atmosphere was almost cosy and relaxed if you were to overlook the three people on the karaoke stage and the way their out-of-sync voices resounded throughout the room.

Seated at one of the tables with a glass of sparkling water, Captain Price exchanged a distressed look with Ghost, who was nursing a shot of Kentucky Bourbon. It was the captain's turn to drive so alcoholic drinks were out of the equation for him.

So he had to spend the entire night watching you, Gaz and Soap getting wasted and trying every form of entertainment the pub offered. You'd started slow with a game of darts, the loser having to drink a shot of whatever the winner decided. As the night progressed you went on to the pool table, had a break to tell stories and debate the key moments of the mission and eventually ended up at the karaoke bar, drunkenly singing to whatever songs were popular at the moment.

You were currently wedged between Gaz and Soap, leaning against each other for support, swaying and gesturing with exaggerated expressions when a new song would come on. You had lost track of the quantity of alcohol you consumed a while ago, yet everything seemed brighter and more colourful than before, so you didn't mind. You didn't know most of the songs that were playing at the karaoke bar, but that did not stop you from singing along, even if your voice was slightly out of tune. What you knew is that you were happy, perhaps happier than ever and, out of a sudden, you felt the need to express that in the loudest way possible, by taking Soap’s phone from his hands and picking the next song.

Surprised by your sudden move, Soap chuckled and gestured to the bartender to prepare three more drinks, even though he had his arm sloppily thrown around your shoulder, and was fighting a tough battle with gravitation. On your right side, Gaz was sloppily reaching towards the microphones, almost tripping over an imaginary wire. You caught him in the last second, grabbing a seat and forcing him to stay put as the first notes of the song echoed through the pub. A surge of drunken determination rushed through your veins as you took one of the microphones and turned towards the table Ghost and Price were seated at, wobbling slightly in the process.

“Captain, Lieutenant - I just… I just wanted to say this is for you. To Price - always being the helicopter, yet cool dad of the group!”. The drunken cheers of Soap’s and Gaz’s quickly accompanied your words, none of them realising how quiet the room had got. Everyone else left in the pub at that hour seemed to put whatever they were doing on hold and watch the inebriated toast with interest.

“And to Ghost!”, you went on unaware of the mood shift, your voice gaining momentum with each word, “who is always taking care of us during missions and let me fall asleep on him once! Cheers!”

Shaking his head in an attempt to hide the grin dancing on his lips, Price raised his glass and beckoned Ghost to do so too. At that moment, Simon was glad he was wearing the balaclava - he could feel an uncharacteristic blush spread across his face, not to mention that he could not control the visible twitching of his lips. The public seemed to be satisfied with the makeshift speech as a round of applause rippled through the crowd, but stopped as suddenly as it began. A familiar tune began to play in the background, and Simon almost pinched his forehead in frustration and disbelief when he saw the drunken determination and the over-confident grin plastered on your face: he had seen that expression before, it meant you were up to no good. His fears were instantly confirmed when the opening chords of Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” filled the space, being quickly accompanied by the shouts and whistles coming from the crowd.

You, Gaz and Soap began swaying to the rhythm of the music, humming along to the first part of the song. Ghost was actually impressed that you made it sound nice, keeping your voices low and soft and singing in sync for once. He turned his head to Price, not surprised to see the older man had reached for his phone and was filming the trio like a proud father on recital day.

That is until the part of the choreo came. And literal chaos ensued, as the three of you began screaming because that was definitely not singing, the high notes, even stopping to gasp for air every once in a while.

"I hope life treats you kind And I hope you have all you've dreamed of And I wish you joy and happiness But above all this, I'm wishing you love!"

He did not know when he made eye contact with you, but Simon found himself trapped inside your E/C eyes. The bourbon tasted sweet on his lips, but it did not compare to the joyful and carefree expression you wore on your face as you tried to keep up with the lyrics of the song, occasionally stumbling across Johnny and Kyle who were just as inebriated and dedicated to the artistic moment as you were. The familiar feeling of warmth and comfort was once again blooming in his chest, and for the first time, he decided to let it grow and see where it would take him.

---

You hadn't meant to lock eyes with Simon, definitely not when you were singing a romantic song you handpicked for the occasion. Yet your judgement was clouded by all the alcohol you'd consumed up to that point and now you couldn't tear your eyes away from his chocolate ones. And from his soft blonde eyelashes that made your heart flutter every time you saw them- making you even stutter on the lyrics of the song that you kept close to your heart. At one point you weren't even aware of the words leaving your mouth, just going along with Gaz and Soap, the two literally putting their hearts into the song.

That was until the second part of the choreo came. And you were so into it that you all fell down on your knees, pathetically crying and shrieking the high-pitched notes that Whitney Houston handled with ease.

Simon did not even know why the three of you bothered to come to training and shooting practices. In moments like that, your voices were lethal weapons alone.

And when the song came to an end, the crowd politely applauded you, secretly glad that it was over. Price was careful to save the video twice so as not to lose it, the proud and amused expression on his face not faltering once:

"I think it's high time we took them home, don't you think?", he asked Simon in an unusual cheery mode, downing his glass of sparkling water.

Ghost could only nod as his eyes were trained on your swaying figure. You were leaning against Gaz, a drunken smile on your face as you downed the drink the bartender slid to you with a wink. For a moment, Simon was too caught up in studying the way your eyes crinkled at the corners to notice them widen in an instant as you brought up a hand to your mouth. His jaw tightened when he realised you were stumbling towards the bathroom, probably sick from one too many a drink, and subtly gestured to Price that he'd get you and meet him at the car, before heading towards the bathroom himself.

However, he slowed down in his steps when he realised he wasn't the only one headed in that direction; the bartender had already beaten him to it. Ghost stopped dead in his tracks, his fists involuntarily clenching as he noticed the man standing near the entrance to the ladies' room, wearing an almost expectant expression, his gaze directed towards the toilets. The sound of you throwing up was the only thing that could be heard against the muffled background sound of the pub, followed eventually by the rush of flushing water.

Washing your hands and face, you took a look at your pale face in the mirror, closing your eyes in defeat. It was definitely time to call it a night and find a ride home or crash on someone's couch, and you accepted the thought as you made your way out of the restroom. Yet you didn't manage to go far as a man you vaguely recognized as the bartender stopped in front of you, hands crossed over his chest in what was supposed to be a masculine stance. You internally scoffed at his posture; you have seen it all during the years you've spent in the military.

"Hey!", he eventually said, a light smile on his face. "Hello! Do you mind, I would like to go back to my friends?", you briefly asked, already trying to sneak past him.

But the man was insistent and stepped in the same direction, making you stop once more.

"Look, I just wanted to say I really enjoyed the show you put on tonight!". You raised a single eyebrow, a poker look on your face. "You and your friends, I mean!", he quickly added, blushing slightly. "And I was just wondering if you would like to stay for a drink after my shift is over and, you know, perhaps go to my place afterwards and…" Rolling your eyes in frustration, you let out an impatient sigh and tried to go past him again, only to be stopped by a firm grip on your arm.

"Look, you should really think about it-" "I wouldn't do that if I were you. She may be drunk, but she can still kick your ass in at least six different ways."

Drunk as you were, you couldn't hide the grin that spread quickly across your face as you took in the imposing figure of the Lieutenant, his skull balaclava lending him a threatening air in the dim light of the hallway. The bartender swiftly let you go, his eyes darting between you two as you staggered towards Ghost, too busy to fully take him in to take note of the hand that was softly placed on the small of your back.

"Oh, mate, I think this is a misunderstanding! I was just… but who the hell are you actually? Do you know him, darling?"

You grimaced at the unjustified use of the endearment, a plain expression of distaste replacing the previous smile. You swayed slightly, having to lean against Ghost as you mumbled something unintelligible about the toast. An unexpected wave of fatigue hit you out of nowhere, making you nestle your head against his chest, your arms weakly wrapping around his shoulders.

"I'm tired, I wanna go home, Ghost!", you murmured gently into his shirt, the vibrations of your voice sending a quiver down his spine. Yet if Ghost was affected by the unexpected display of clinginess, he did not let it show. Instead, he made a quick job of scooping you into his arms, your head nestling in the crook of his neck. Letting out a satisfied sigh, you closed your eyes and unconsciously nuzzled your cheek against the soft material of the balaclava, breathing in the scent of his cologne, your hands still clinging onto his shoulders in a koala-like grip.

For a fleeting moment, he became utterly oblivious to his surroundings, his mind consumed by the moment, struggling to make sense of the situation in which both of you had found yourselves. He didn't exactly freeze, but his brain didn't work properly either as the feeling of your breaths against his balaclava sent an electrifying jolt through him. You may have just washed your face and the perfume you wore must have faded during the night, but the subtle smell of your shampoo lingered, sweet enough to leave an impression that he knew would stay with him for the days to come. When he eventually realised you weren't alone, that the bartender was still loitering by the restroom's entrance, Ghost shrugged, remembering your previous words:

"You should have listened to the toast, mate!"

---

Carrying you to Price's pickup trunk proved to be no easy feat for Simon; he was too distracted by the hold you had on him, both literally and figuratively. It was as if his mind had turned to jelly and he could not distinguish dream from reality. And at that moment, he experienced the sensation of living within a pleasant dream, you being in his arms just as he often yearned for when trying to fall asleep in the solitude of his room.

If Price was surprised by the state you found yourself in, he showed no signs. He had just managed to secure Soap in the passenger seat, while Gaz was passed out in the back, head leaning against the window, an empty look on his face.

"I'm sorry Simon but you'll have to sit in the middle tonight", the captain chuckled under his breath as he was watching Ghost put two and two together while you were still clinging to him as if your life depended on it.

He would not be able to get in the car while also preserving the position you found yourself in, yet he did not want to give it up. For a passing instant, he actually thought of walking to your place- a weak attempt at trying to make the moment last longer. But he could feel Price's badly concealed smirk like the heat of the sun in July and he had to fight, actually fight the groan that threatened to leave him as he nudged you with his shoulder.

"Wake up, Bambi! We've got to get you home, come on!" His words reached your ears as a distant sound and instead, you chose to relish in the vibrations that resonated against your skin, letting out a small hum of approval.

"Ok means okay, come on!" "Mhm, sure…" "Y/N…" "Simon…"

Clinging on him like a koala had no visible effect on him, but you saying his name, his real name, made Ghost freeze and set his dark eyes on you. He could not control the cocktail of feelings swimming in his orbs, ranging from surprise to pure adoration, and the thought of hiding them did not even cross his mind at that moment.

Until you were both showered in a sudden burst of light, quickly followed by a camera shutter. Behind the Polaroid camera, Price did not even bother to hide his satisfied expression as he watched the picture develop with a soft whirring sound.

You, on the other hand, instantly jumped from Ghost's arms, the flash of the camera making you look like a deer caught in the headlights. You were still inebriated, as the world was spinning much more than it should have, but the drowsiness from earlier had evaporated in an instant. Shaking his head in disbelief and muttering something along the lines of "fucking hell", Ghost did not even bother to answer Soap's cheers. He just squeezed into the backseat of Price's car, seating himself next to Gaz and trying his best to ensure you would not hit your head and get in safely. And the giddy smile he got as a response was worth it.

Price was the last to get in the car. As he positioned himself behind the wheel, Ghost couldn't help but wonder where he'd hidden the Polaroid camera and the picture. Knowing the older man, he could only hope the instant shot would not be displayed in the lounging room, alongside other just as embarrassing moments.

Not that he had something against you or the picture.

He just thought that the moment was rather special, even intimate to him and that it should not be shared with all other SAS operators who spent their time in the lounging room when on base.

"You three did quite a show out there!", Price half-turned towards Soap and the backseat riders, a comic expression on his face.

"Thanks, dad!", you replied in an awfully cheery tone, swaying slightly from one side to another. You kept humming to yourself, not taking note of the awkward silence that had settled in the car.

"Bambi, did you just call Price 'dad'?", Soap asked from the front seat, his shit-eating grin being reflected in the rearview mirror.

"Do you see me as a father figure, Y/N?", Price quipped in, smiling softly at your confused expression. Simon did not even dare to glance in your direction - he knew the doe eyes were making a comeback and he was definitely not inebriated enough to handle them.

"I certainly do!"

Gaz's voice was muffled as his cheek was currently squished against the window. But the message got across and you reached across Ghost to pat his shoulder, aggressively nodding in compliance.

"And this is why", you began by raising a finger in the air as if to strengthen your point, "you are my brother, Gaz!".

Your drunken determination was almost comical to watch, but it topped when you squealed in excitement:

"Let me give you a kiss!"

"No, you won't! I'm definitely not getting caught up in the middle of this!"

Ghost's answer, more of a growl actually, was instantly followed by Soap's booming laughter as the Scot was trying to turn and face the backseat, extending a grabby hand towards you:

"I'm happily accepting your kisses if you'll let me, bonnie!", he slurred half of the sentence, his head comfortably propped on the headrest as he puckered his lips in your direction.

"No one's getting any kisses!"

----

"Come on, careful, there's a step there!" "I wanna go home…" "We are almost there, Bambi. Now, do you have your key?" "Yeah, it should be in my pocket. Let me… let me look for it…"

Murmuring to yourself, you fished the keychain and held it before your eyes, a small chuckle escaping your lips as the keys kept jingling. The tiredness from the pub was making a comeback and Ghost had to carry you inside after he managed to open the door while also balancing your swaying silhouette.

"Oh, this couch looks good!", you muttered to yourself, letting yourself fall on it.

But instead of touching the plush pillows, you felt two strong arms sneaking around your waist and keeping you partially suspended in the air. You opened your mouth to protest, but before you were aware of it, you were headed in the direction of your bedroom, a warm hand placed on the small of your back.

"You should change into something more comfortable…", Ghost muttered, frowning when you started shaking your head and slurring: "I'll do it in the morning."

He already felt like he was prying, being inside your home, in the privacy of your bedroom, so he did not push the topic and instead, knelt down and removed your sneakers.

"You should at least clean your face." He pressed on the issue, all too aware of your fixation with skincare and how you would complain to anyone on the base about the latest breakout on your face. "Mhm.." "Mhm means yes, Bambi!", he groaned in frustration as he bent down to scoop you in his arms again and carried you to the bathroom, where he laid you on the fitted furniture so that your faces were at the same level.

Ghost was no stranger to makeup removal techniques - he had his fair share of experiences he had gone through when learning what worked best for the black paint he used to smudge the area around his eyes. But he began to grow tired as well, and being in your house took him way out of his comfort zone, so he resumed reaching for a pack of makeup wipes, instead of looking for a cleansing balm or micellar water. His touch was gentle against your face, his fingers applying the suitable amount of pressure needed to get rid of any traces of eyeshadow and whatnot. There was a faint tremor in his hand when he reached your lips, but the remnants of lipstick had to be removed too.

He was not prepared for the sudden shiver that raced down his spine the moment his fingertips brushed against your lips. His breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat as he continued to delicately trace the outline of your lips, the warm and comforting sensation he'd felt before, making a return. For a moment, the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked at the moment, Ghost's eyes fervently searching for yours, as he rested a gloved hand against your face.

Letting out a soft sigh, you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

"Don't fall asleep on me…", Ghost hummed under his breath, involuntarily rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His gentle touch was a far cry from the deadly one that had become second nature on the battlefield.

"I trust you'll catch me", you whispered back, a delicate smile on your face.

And he did. With a tender grin under his balaclava, Ghost lifted you into his arms once more, cradling you like the treasure you were. Your head rested against his chest as he carried you back to your bedroom, each step filled with a quiet intimacy, completely new to him.

He entered the dark room, gently lying you down on the soft sheets, almost amazed at how quickly you passed out, again. Yes, you may have been wasted, completely inebriated, but you also trusted him to let him take care of you in your state.

Even if the action was foreign to him, Ghost tucked you in as best as he could, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His internal conflict was a raging storm, but he eventually let the few shots of bourbon get to his head. With shaky gestures, he peeled the mask up to his nose and brought his lips to your forehead in a chaste kiss. His warm breath lingered over your face for a couple of seconds before he quietly exited the room, leaving you in a peaceful slumber.

---

Bonus scene

Sitting by himself at the small table in the kitchen, Simon lifted the balaclava up to his nose and breathed in the scent of Earl Grey, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. He could see the tendrils of steam rolling out of the freshly brewed mug, the late autumn morning sun filtering through the blinds and bathing the room in warmth and light.

After every single evening spent celebrating in the pub, you, Gaz and Soap had to take the day off and volunteer yourselves for the night watch. Ghost had grown so accustomed to the usual agitation, whether it was Gaz jogging in the kitchen for a snack, Soap casually napping in the lounging room, or you, asking everyone where they had hidden the cookies, and he was finding it weird to spend the day in relative silence and peace.

And he was so lost in his thoughts, replaying the events of the previous night in his head, that he failed to notice the private who was lingering in the doorway and looking at him with a mixture of fear and admiration. It wasn't until he reached for the milk, that he took note of his presence and gave him a questioning look. "Captain Price asked me to deliver this personally to you, sir!" The private placed a white envelope on the table, saluted and quickly left the room. Simon had no time to analyze the interaction as his eyes settled on the letter.

Only it was not a letter, but a photograph. And after double checking, he was alone in the room, Simon actually let out a small chuckle as he held the polaroid in the sunlight, his eyes softening at the sight of you cradled in his arms, nuzzling your head against his chest.

taglist: @neoarchipelago, @thecorruptedlovely, @mitchlow, @fieldsofbats, @thaprilks, @stars-andfreckles, @that-napa-know-how, @preistinajamjar

[cass1dyyy]

bloody and bruised

contains: angst (not between the reader and mattheo), mostly fluff

summary: your boyfriend mattheo ends up in a fight, and you help him clean up afterwards.

warnings: injury, injury detail, swearing, reader playfully hits mattheo, mentions of blood, a nose breaking, fighting, beating up mattheo

you rush around the corner, and you scan the scene infront of you. mattheo is on the floor, on top of a hufflepuff boy who’s face is bruised badly. a crowd gathers round the violent scene, blocking your view.

suddenly, you hear a sickening crunch. the students crowded around gasp, backing away and exclaiming in disgust. some even shudder. you gasp, running forward and see the hufflepuff huddling back against the wall, his nose clearly broken and blood pouring from it, trickling down his face and off his chin, onto the marble floor.

just as you’re about go grab mattheo’s arm and pull him away, you’re launched back with the crowd, and flung onto your ass on the cold, hard floor. a large, transparent, blue circle enveloped your boyfriend and the unlucky hufflepuff’s three other friends.

the injured boy had been hustled off to madam pomfrey, leaving mattheo in the hands of these furious-looking guys. mattheo’s grave expression didnt falter though, as one threw a punch to his stomach, as he doubled over, clutching the place he’d been hit, as you watched helplessly.

then, a few punches to his face, mostly the nose, and some more to his stomach and eye. you scream out for the guys to stop, but they just smirk at you, and deliver the punches harder, as mattheo winces and groans in pain.

you start racking your brains for a complicated spell, which would break the force-field. you knew it, but couldnt think of it off of the top of your head. you were smart, but panic was set like cement in you, and your mind went blank. two boys appeared next to you, draco malfoy and theodore nott, mattheo’s closest friends. their expressions turned cold and angry.

suddenly, the spell clicked in your brain like assembling a puzzle. you figured it was because of the distraction where you noticed draco and theo, but there wasn’t time to focus on that now. you thanked them in your head and raised your wand, screaming the incantation.

A/N: i wanted to put a proper spell here, and i researched, and thought i found one but turns out it wasnt quite the right one so just imagine the spell or make one of your own!

the force field shattered, large shards of the forcefield floating down and fading once they hit the floor. theo and draco immediately pull out their wands, shouting

“petrificus totalus!”

the hufflepuffs froze like statues, as mattheo slumped against the wall, his face bloody and bruised. you rush over to him, helping him up and dragging him to the nearest empty classroom, which wasnt too far. you sit him on the teacher’s desk, while he pants and groans heavily.

“i’ll be right back, okay? stay here.” you say, rushing out of the door and into the caretaker’ filch’s cleaning closet. there were multiple of these around the school, due to the vast size of hogwarts.

you stepped in, quickly shutting the door behind you and rummaging through the shelves in the small space. the top shelf usually has the medkits and bandages and stuff, and sure enough, you found multiple medkits, bandages, plasters, anything you could ever need!

you grab plasters, disinfectant, wound spray, rubbing alcohol, and a medkit. you probably didnt need all of it, but it was just incase. you hurried out of the supply closet, paranoid that filch would turn up out of the blue, like he usually does.

you walk back to the classroom. mattheo was still in the same spot, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead. his nose was blue and bruised, blood trailing down from his nostrils.

you sigh, sitting down next to him, as you wipe the blood off of his nose and chin. then you rub disinfectant to the nose wounds.

then, you wipe away the dried blood from around his right eye, and also disinfect that.

“unbutton your shirt.” you say.

he smirks, looking at you and wiggling his eyebrows.

“not in that way you perv!” you exclaim, hitting him on his arm and giggling.

he chuckles, unbuttoning his white school shirt, as you examine the brown and blue bruises on his stomach. you frown, kissing mattheo on the cheek comfortingly. you show him a soft, but sad smile.

“there’s no blood or anything i need to tend to, but you’re definitely going to need ice.” you state, looking at him.

“okay.”

“why’d you even beat him up anyway? this could’ve been avoided.” you sigh.

“he was chatting shit about you, and my family. he’s the biggest dick known to mankind.” he murmurs, his tone laced with anger.

you place a hand on his arm, rubbing up and down soothingly.

“thanks for breaking his nose.” you say, breaking into a grin as he chuckles.

he kisses you, for longer this time, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. you break apart and he hugs you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, as he exhales.

“cmon, let’s go get ice from madam pomfrey.” you say, kissing his forehead and grasping his hand.

A/N: yes i know that the hufflepuff would be with madam pomfrey and definitely snitched on mattheo, but i feel like mattheo doesnt care and also doesn’t care about getting in trouble.. im trying to be more active and frequently posting 😊

next im going to post my masterlist and introduction x

[wonyowonyo]

Crossfire (M. Sakura X M!Reader)

A/n: heyaaa wonyo_wonyo here!!! I've missed u guys :3 anyways I got sum vacant days, free from the shackles of life so I decides to write wohoo. I'm posting this on my phone so I apologize in advance if the post is kinda scuffed. This one's a 4k word oneshot, hope yall enjoy and I'll catch yall in the next one. wonyo out!

In the bustling world of eSports, few could rival the fame of Pro-Gamer Miyawaki Sakura from Le Sserafim. Known for her sharp reflexes and strategic mind, she dominated the Valorant scene with her team. But recently, her attention had shifted to a new prodigy: a rookie male player who had taken the community by storm.

The Valorant community buzzed with excitement as Y/N, the rookie sensation, was making headlines. His gameplay was reminiscent of Tenz, combining precision with an uncanny ability to predict opponents' moves. Sakura, while preparing for her own matches, found herself drawn to his streams, captivated by his skill and charisma.

In her downtime, she would secretly watch his highlight reels, her heart racing at each clutch play. Little did anyone know, she had become one of his biggest fans.

The grand tournament was set, featuring some of the best teams in the world. Y/N’s team, Cloud9, was pitted against the reigning champions, Gen.G, in the semi-finals. The arena was electric, with fans eagerly anticipating the showdown.

As the match began, Y/N showcased his prowess with Jett, dashing through the map with surgical precision. The rounds were intense, each team trading blows, but Y/N consistently outperformed, making impossible shots and leading his team to victory.

Sakura, watching from the audience, couldn't help but cheer. Her heart fluttered with each of his plays. She was falling for him, and it was exhilarating.

The finals were set: Cloud9 versus Le Sserafim. The tension was palpable. As the teams gathered backstage, Sakura and Y/N finally met. He was charming, his confidence evident but not overbearing.

"Looking forward to our match," he said with a grin.

Sakura, momentarily flustered, replied, "I hope you're ready for a challenge."

Their banter was light-hearted, but both knew the stakes were high.

The match was legendary. Each map was a nail-biter, with both teams pushing their limits. The first match was set on Haven. As the timer counted down, Sakura’s fingers danced over her keyboard. She played Sage, anchoring the team with her healing and strategic walls.

The rookie’s team pushed aggressively. His precision with the Operator was deadly, picking off Le Sserafim members one by one. Sakura’s heart skipped a beat whenever she saw him on her screen, but she quickly refocused. She needed to keep her team in the game.

In a crucial round, Sakura found herself in a 1v3 situation. The crowd’s roar faded as she breathed deeply and clutched the round, using Sage’s abilities to perfection. The scoreboard evened out, and excitement crackled in the air. But Y/N retaliated on Ascent, his Jett plays leaving the crowd in awe.

The final map, Bind, was neck-and-neck. With the score tied, the last round would decide the victor. Y/N found himself in a 1v3 situation. The crowd held their breath as he deftly maneuvered, taking down two opponents. It was just him and Sakura now in a one-on-one duel. Sakura could feel the eyes of the crowd on her, the weight of her crush mingling with the pressure to win.

With nerves of steel, Sakura planted the spike. Y/N approached, anticipating her every move. The final showdown was a dance of skill and strategy, Sakura’s heart raced as she anticipated his moves, using her Viper abilities to outmaneuver him. The arena held its breath as she landed the final shot, securing victory for Le Sserafim.

"Congratulations,You were incredible out there." Y/N said, offering a handshake.

Sakura blushed and  took his hand warmly, her admiration for him evident. "I’ve been... a fan for a while," she admitted shyly.

Y/N grinned, "I’m honored, especially coming from someone like you."

As they shared a laugh, it was clear this was just the beginning of a new friendship—and perhaps something more.

————————————————————

In the days following the thrilling tournament, Sakura found herself constantly on the lookout for a glimpse of the rookie sensation, Y/N. Their moment of connection after the finals had left her with a fluttering heart and a newfound desire to get to know him better.

One afternoon, as Sakura was leaving the esports arena after a team practice, she turned a corner and nearly collided with a familiar face. There he was, Y/N, standing just a few feet away. Their eyes locked, and Sakura felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Sakura! I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Y/N said, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

"No, no, it's my fault," Sakura replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I wasn't expecting to see you here."

An awkward silence fell between them, and Sakura found herself searching for something to say, desperate to prolong their chance encounter.

"I was just, uh, heading out to get a coffee. Would you... would you like to join me?" Y/N asked, his eyes filled with a hopeful expression.

Sakura felt a surge of excitement at the invitation, her heart racing. "I'd love to," she responded, a shy smile spreading across her face.

As they walked side by side, the familiar scents of the arena fading in the distance, Sakura couldn't help but feel a growing sense of anticipation. This unexpected meeting had the potential to be the start of something truly extraordinary.

The cozy café was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation as Sakura and Y/N settled into a quiet corner. The atmosphere was casual and relaxed, yet Sakura couldn't help but feel a subtle tension between them, a palpable energy that crackled in the air.

"So, how have you been?" Y/N asked, his voice gentle and warm.

"I've been good, just... you know, practicing and preparing for the next tournament," Sakura replied, her fingers nervously wrapped around her mug.

An awkward silence fell between them, and Sakura found herself desperately searching for something to say, a way to break through the barriers and truly connect with Y/N.

Summoning her courage, she looked up and met his gaze. "I... I've been thinking about our match a lot, you know. The way you played, it was... it was amazing."

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Really? I... I'm glad you enjoyed it. I have to admit, I've been thinking about it a lot too."

Their eyes locked, and the world around them seemed to fade away. Sakura could feel the energy shifting between them, the subtle flicker of something more than just a friendly connection.

"I... I'd love to play with you again sometime, if you're up for it," Sakura said, her voice soft and hopeful.

Y/N nodded, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Absolutely. I'd be more than happy to."

As they made plans to meet up for a gaming session, Sakura couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. This casual meetup had opened the door to something deeper, and she was eager to see where this journey would lead them.

The familiar hum of gaming rigs and the click of keyboards filled the air as Sakura and Y/N immersed themselves in a friendly match. The tension between them had dissipated, replaced by a sense of comfortable camaraderie as they strategized and executed their plays.

Sakura found herself captivated by Y/N's skill and focus, the way his brow furrowed in concentration and the way his lips parted slightly as he issued commands. She couldn't help but steal glances at him, admiring the way he commanded the virtual battlefield.

As the match progressed, their communication and teamwork became increasingly seamless, each of them anticipating the other's moves and working in perfect harmony. Sakura felt a surge of pride and exhilaration, not just from the thrill of the game, but from the growing connection she felt with Y/N.

When the final round came to an end, the two pro-gamers sat back, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Sakura could feel the tension building, the unspoken feelings that lingered between them.

"That was... really amazing," Y/N said, his voice soft and sincere. "You're an incredible player, Sakura."

"Thank you," Sakura replied, her heart racing. "You were incredible as well. I... I really enjoyed playing with you."

The air between them was thick with a palpable energy, and Sakura knew that the moment was ripe with the promise of something more. She felt a surge of courage, a desire to take a leap and explore the depths of this connection.

"Hey, would you... would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime?" Sakura asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'd love to... to get to know you better."

Y/N's eyes widened, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I'd love that, Sakura. I really would."

The days that followed were filled with a sense of anticipation and excitement for Sakura. Her casual coffee date with Y/N had opened the door to a budding friendship, one that she found herself eagerly nurturing. They would meet up regularly, sometimes to game together, other times to simply chat and get to know each other better.

In those quiet moments, Sakura reveled in the easy banter and the genuine connection that was blossoming between them. There was a palpable chemistry that crackled in the air, a spark that both of them seemed hesitant to acknowledge, at least for the time being.

As the next major Valorant tournament loomed on the horizon, Sakura found herself torn between her professional obligations and the growing desire to explore this newfound relationship. She knew that the competition would be fierce, and she couldn't afford any distractions. Yet, the prospect of being apart from Y/N for an extended period left her with a sense of unease.

————————————————————

The hype and anticipation surrounding the upcoming Valorant tournament reached a fever pitch, with players and fans alike eagerly awaiting the clash of the titans. Sakura and her team, Le Sserafim, were considered the clear favorites, their dominant performances in previous events cementing their status as the team to beat.

But as Sakura prepared for the tournament, her focus began to waver. Memories of her time with Y/N would creep into her thoughts, distracting her from the intense training regimen she had so meticulously followed. The more she tried to push these feelings aside, the more they seemed to consume her.

One evening, after a grueling practice session, Sakura found herself alone in the team's gaming lounge, her fingers gently tracing the edges of her mouse. She couldn't shake the sense of longing that had taken root in her heart, the desire to be with Y/N and explore the depths of their connection.

It was in that moment of vulnerability that she made a fateful decision – a decision that would have far-reaching consequences, both for her professional career and her personal life.

————————————————————

The flashing lights and thunderous cheers of the Valorant tournament filled the arena as Sakura and Y/N took their positions on the stage. The energy was palpable, the air thick with anticipation as the two pro-gamers faced off in a highly anticipated match.

Sakura gripped her mouse, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she scanned the virtual battlefield. Y/N mirrored her expression, his brow furrowed as he plotted his team's strategy. The opening rounds were a tense back-and-forth, with both players showcasing their impressive skills and split-second decision-making.

As the match progressed, the crowd erupted in applause and shouts of exhilaration. Sakura and Y/N were in perfect sync. The tension was palpable, neither side willing to back down.

In the final moments, the score was tied, and the outcome hung in the balance. Sakura felt her heart pounding in her chest as she maneuvered her agent, her mind racing with calculations and contingencies. Across the stage, Y/N was equally focused, his eyes locked on the screen as he made a crucial play.

The final round was a nail-biter, both players pushing the limits of their skill and strategy. Sakura held her breath, her entire being consumed by the intensity of the match. And then, in a flurry of action, Y/N emerged victorious, his team erupting in celebration.

Sakura felt a mix of emotions – pride, admiration, and a twinge of disappointment. As she shook Y/N's hand, their eyes met, and she saw a glimmer of something more than just a professional rivalry. The spark that had ignited between them still burned brightly, undimmed by the heat of their virtual clash.

In that moment, Sakura knew that this was far from the end of their story. The Valorant stage had brought them together, but the true connection that lay between them was something that transcended the virtual realm.

The post-match interviews and press conferences had dragged on, and Sakura found herself eagerly anticipating the moment when she and Y/N could finally steal away from the public eye. As she made her way through the crowded backstage area, she spotted him, his gaze fixed on the ground, seemingly lost in thought.

Approaching him cautiously, Sakura placed a gentle hand on his arm, causing him to look up, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey, you," she said softly, offering him a warm smile.

Y/N returned the smile, though Sakura could detect a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "Hey, Sakura. That was... quite a match, huh?"

"It was," Sakura replied, her voice low and intimate. "You played incredibly well. I'm... I'm really impressed."

A moment of silence passed between them, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Sakura could feel the tension building, the desire to bridge the gap between them growing stronger with each passing second.

"Y/N, I..." she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to tell you something."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Sakura took a deep breath, summoning her courage.

"I... I've been thinking about you a lot. About us. And I... I can't stop thinking about the connection I feel between us. It's... it's more than just a professional rivalry, isn't it?"

Y/N remained silent, his expression unreadable. Sakura's heart raced, the uncertainty of his reaction threatening to consume her.

"I know this might be... complicated," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I... I need you to know how I feel. I don't want to keep this bottled up any longer."

The air was thick with tension as Sakura waited, her entire being focused on Y/N's response. The moment seemed to stretch on endlessly, until finally, he reached out and gently took her hand, his touch sending a shiver down her spine.

"Sakura..." he began, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I feel it too. I... I've been struggling with these feelings for a while now."

Sakura's breath caught in her throat, her heart threatening to burst from her chest. The vulnerability in Y/N's eyes was a mirror to her own, and in that moment, she knew that the path forward, though uncertain, was one they would navigate together.

The air crackled with a potent mixture of vulnerability and anticipation as Sakura and Y/N stood there, their hands intertwined, the world around them fading into the background.

"I've been... so afraid to say anything," Sakura confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want to jeopardize our careers, our friendship. But I can't keep denying what I feel for you."

Y/N gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes reflecting the same tumultuous emotions she was experiencing. "Sakura, I feel the same way. These past few months, getting to know you, being around you... it's been both exhilarating and terrifying."

Sakura felt a surge of relief wash over her, but the uncertainty that lingered was palpable. "What do we do now? This... this could complicate things, both on and off the field."

"I don't know," Y/N admitted, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "But I do know that I don't want to lose you, Sakura. Whatever happens, I want us to figure this out. Together."

Sakura's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and trepidation. She knew the challenges they would face, the scrutiny and the potential fallout, but in that moment, all that mattered was the connection they shared.

"Okay," she said, her voice steadier now. "Let's take this one step at a time. We'll figure it out, no matter what."

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm with you, Sakura. Through it all."

As they stood there, hand in hand, the weight of their decision hung heavy in the air. But there was also a glimmer of hope, a promise of a future that was theirs to shape, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead.

————————————————————

The aftermath of the Valorant tournament was a whirlwind of activity, with both teams and players facing intense scrutiny and media attention. Sakura and Y/N had made the conscious decision to keep their newfound relationship under wraps, at least for the time being.

However, their carefully guarded secret was not destined to remain hidden for long. During a post-match interview, a seemingly innocuous question about their "close friendship" triggered a line of questioning that quickly spiraled out of control.

Sakura felt her heart race as the interviewer probed deeper, hinting at the possibility of a romantic involvement between the two pro-gamers. She glanced at Y/N, who was visibly tense, his jaw clenched as he struggled to maintain his composure.

The tension in the room was palpable, and Sakura knew that they were rapidly running out of time to address the situation before it spun entirely out of their control. She took a deep breath, summoning her courage, and made the decision to speak up.

"Look, the truth is, Y/N and I... we have developed a deep connection. One that goes beyond just being teammates or competitors." Sakura paused, her gaze unwavering as she met the interviewer's eyes. "We've been trying to navigate this situation as best we can, but the reality is, we care about each other. Deeply."

The room erupted in a flurry of activity, with reporters shouting questions and cameras flashing. Sakura felt Y/N's hand brush against hers, offering a silent show of support amidst the chaos.

In that moment, they both knew that there was no going back. Their relationship was now public knowledge, and the consequences, both professional and personal, would be significant. But as they stood there, facing the storm together, Sakura couldn't help but feel a sense of resolve.

Whatever lay ahead, they would face it side by side, determined to forge their own path and to explore the depths of their connection, no matter the cost.

The fallout from the public reveal of Sakura and Y/N's relationship was swift and unforgiving. The esports community, known for its intense rivalries and cutthroat nature, erupted in a frenzy of speculation, criticism, and even outright hostility.

Both players found themselves at the center of a media storm, their every move scrutinized and dissected. Accusations of favoritism, bias, and potential conflicts of interest began to swirl, threatening to overshadow their impressive accomplishments on the Valorant stage.

Sakura and Y/N weathered the storm with remarkable resilience, though the emotional toll was undeniable. They faced intense pressure from their respective teams, as well as from sponsors and league officials, all of whom were concerned about the potential impact on their brands and reputations.

Yet, amidst the chaos, their bond only grew stronger. They leaned on each other, offering support, comfort, and a steadfast determination to weather the storm together. In the rare moments they could steal away from the public eye, they would simply hold each other, drawing strength from the connection that had blossomed between them.

"I never imagined it would be this difficult," Sakura confessed one night, her head resting on Y/N's shoulder. "But I don't regret it, Y/N. I don't regret choosing you."

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his arms tightening around her. "Neither do I, Sakura. We'll get through this. I promise."

As they sat there, the weight of the world seemingly on their shoulders, they knew that their love would be the anchor that kept them grounded, even in the face of the most turbulent storms.

————————————————————

Despite the intense scrutiny and controversy surrounding their relationship, Sakura and Y/N refused to let it dampen their competitive spirit. As the next major Valorant tournament approached, they were more determined than ever to prove their worth on the virtual battlefield.

In the weeks leading up to the event, they immersed themselves in a rigorous training regimen, pushing their skills to new heights. Sakura could feel the electricity coursing through her veins as she honed her strategies, her focus laser-sharp and unwavering.

Y/N, for his part, matched her intensity, his gameplay reaching new levels of precision and adaptability. The two of them were in perfect sync, their communication and teamwork seamless as they coordinated their team's movements.

As the tournament began, the scrutiny and pressure only seemed to fuel their determination. Sakura and Y/N were a force to be reckoned with, their performances captivating the audience and their opponents alike.

With each successive win, the noise and criticism that had once threatened to overwhelm them began to fade into the background. All that mattered was the thrill of the competition, the rush of adrenaline, and the unbreakable bond that united them.

And as the final match of the prestigious Valorant tournament commenced. Sakura and Y/N, once fierce rivals, now united by a love that transcended the virtual battlefield, found themselves pitted against each other once more – but this time, the stakes were higher than ever before.

The world watched with bated breath as the two pro-gamers led their respective teams through a grueling series of rounds, their skills and strategic prowess on full display. The intensity of the competition was palpable, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Yet, amidst the fierceness of the battle, Sakura and Y/N shared fleeting glances, a silent language that spoke volumes of the profound connection they shared. Their teamwork and synergy were unparalleled, each anticipating the other's moves, their decisions seamlessly in sync.

As the match reached its crescendo, the score remained tied, both teams refusing to back down. It was in this moment of pure, unadulterated tension that Sakura and Y/N found their moment to shine.

With a flawless execution of a daring maneuver, Y/N outmaneuvered Sakura's team, securing the final victory for his squad. The arena erupted in thunderous cheers, the fans captivated by the sheer brilliance of the play.

In the aftermath, Sakura and Y/N met in the center of the virtual battlefield, their eyes locking in a moment of profound understanding. Y/N reached out, gently taking Sakura's hand, and in that instant, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Sakura whispered, a soft smile gracing her lips. "You were amazing out there."

Y/N returned the smile, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. "I couldn't have done it without you, Sakura. This victory belongs to both of us."

In that moment, their bond transcended the confines of the tournament, their love shining through as a testament to the belief that true triumph could only be found in the strength of their shared journey. The world watched in awe, captivated by the raw, unadulterated emotion that radiated from the two pro-gamers.

As they stepped off the virtual stage, hand in hand, Sakura and Y/N knew that their story was just beginning. The future was theirs to shape, a canvas upon which they would continue to paint the masterpiece of their love – a love that would inspire generations to come, a love that knew no boundaries.

[cntloup]

UndergroundBoxer!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader angst, violence, arguments

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

moodboard | face

You walk through the threshold of the old, rusty building. Walking alone in a neighborhood like this at night was not a good idea and you know that he would scold you, but you would shut him up with a sweet kiss and his favorite drink. That would work, right?

As you walk along the hallway, the ruckus and uproar of the already-drunk people inside reach your ears and the smell of alcohol and sweat hit your nose.

There are all kinds of people here; people you should never encounter in your life as your loving boyfriend mentions to you every night, but you didn’t budge this time. You've asked him multiple times to take you to one of his fights. You've heard various stories about how the infamous Ghost has absolutely demolished his opponent once again, and you’re finally here to see it up close.

You make your way through the crowd, trying not to get hit in the face by the cheering mob who have their hands up into fists and not to slip on the liquid which you hope is beer and knock yourself out or get kicked and stepped on. You finally make it to the front row intact and let out a sigh of relief.  

As your boyfriend makes his way to the ring, you start whistling and cheering at the top of your lungs. He still hasn’t seen you. Then his competitor steps in and your jaw drops. He's fucking huge... maybe even more than Simon. No, definitely more.

As you watch them stand in front of each other and the referee in between them, the truth dawns on you. There are no rules in the underground world. He might get severely injured... or worse. ‘FUCK! No, he won’t. He'll get out of it unharmed.’ you think to yourself and gather your thoughts, taking deep breaths as you try to calm yourself.

You go through every emotion in existence as they fight, wince and gasp loudly every time Simon takes a punch. You try to reach for him and even get inside the ring when he takes a nasty hit to the head. That's when he notices your presence and calls out your name as the security prevents you from getting inside the ring. “Oi! Fuck off! Don’t fucking touch my girl!” he shouts at them and comes to your side and takes your hand in his “It’s ok, lovie. I’m fine.” “But- but-” you can’t get the words out through your sobs as you stare at him in shock. “I’m ok. I promise.” he wipes your tears and lets go of your hand after the referee blows in his whistle and the final round begins.  

Multiple punches are thrown to the faces and heads and various limbs by the fighters, angry roars and shocked gasps are heard from the crowd. The match finally ends and Simon is introduced as the champion. He quickly starts to exit the ring after they present him with the championship belt. You make your way straight to him and you both meet halfway.

You collapse into his arms and start sobbing, finally getting the emotions out after experiencing so much anxiety and nearly having a panic attack. “It’s ok, love. Let it all out.” he repeats the words as he gently rubs your back. He knows it must have been very difficult for you to watch him not only fight but get beaten several times, some of them pretty serious.

You pull away “Are you ok?” “Yes, love. I'm fine. I've taken worse punches before. It was nothing.” “FUCK! Simon, you got hit in the fucking head. Don't try to play it down. You should get it checked out by a doctor. And don’t fucking think me knowing you’ve taken worse hits, makes me feel better somehow.” you reply angrily, your gaze throwing daggers at him. “Love, again, I’m fine-” “You don’t know that.” you cut him off. He places a kiss on your forehead and responds “Of course I’ll get it checked out. We have a doctor here. I’m gonna go into the backroom to let him do the tests, then I’ll meet you here, ok?” “Ok.” you mutter and he leaves to meet the doctor.  

You wait for him as you think about what you just saw, let it sink in that it is his job. And it wil make you even more worried whenever he leaves for a match now that you have witnessed the extent of the violence yourself.

He finally comes out of the room, dressed in his black jeans and hoodie. “It all went well. I’m fine. Really. Just a few minor injuries.” “Minor you say-” “The doctor said that.” “Ok, then.” you let out a sigh of relief.

“Wait! You didn’t walk here, did you?” he asks as he wonders how you got here since he’s got the car. “...I kind of did.” “You kind o-” he starts to get upset. He pinches the bridge of his nose and brushes a hand across his face in frustration and anger. “You didn’t take an uber? You fucking walked here? How fucking stupid are you? Huh?!” he starts getting in your face and you back away, biting your lip in fear. “I thought I told you not to fucking come in here at all. Do you ever listen to me? Why did you have to come? To see me get beaten half to death? Are you fucking happy now?” “So is this about your ego? Me seeing you in a vulnerable state as you take hits after hits upsets you? Or are you really worried about me? After watching this goddamn match which will leave a scar on my mind for sure and after almost having an anxiety attack over you, this is how you treat me?” you start to bite back. “Don’t fucking twist my words like that. Of course I’m worried about you. No, I don’t give a fuck about my ego. It's not about that at all. And watching the match was your own choice. I've told you not to come a thousand times but you don’t fucking listen!” he bears his teeth at you as he punches the wall beside your head, making you flinch at his outburst and close your eyes out of fear.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

A/N: I may or may not post a part 2 for this :')

[annwrites]

⸻ sons & daughters. aemond | driftmark outtake.

· pairing: young!aemondtargaryen x niece!reader · type: outtake from this series · summary: aemond reunites with you at driftmark after your family's swift departure from the red keep. · tw: underage—you have been warned. · word count: 2,319

"I would perform my duty," Aemond states, looking at you over his shoulder. "If mother had only betrothed us."

You part from your siblings, walking down stone steps, hot tears running down your cheeks. You've barely had a moment free of them since father...since Harwin died.

Your mother does not want you, nor your siblings, to speak of it. So you are forced to instead sequester yourself away to lonesome corners, or to your chambers to grieve with no one to comfort you.

You do not even have Aemond to lean on now. Not since your mother also forced your family out of the Red Keep and onto a lonely island instead.

You will never call it home.

He had stared at you through the service—your uncle—the look on his face unreadable. So you had kept your eyes downcast, shifting on your feet, fighting back fresh tears as Vaemond gave his niece her eulogy. A eulogy which had eventually turned into vicious insinuations, which served only to make your stomach twist nervously.

Everything seems wrong now.

You've never felt so alone before.

You walk down a few more steps, looking behind you, and when you see that you are out of everyone's line-of-sight, you double over, sobbing into your hands.

Aemond parts from his siblings in search of you.

You've yet to speak a word to him.

The two of you have been exchanging letters since you'd left home, so he'd been most-assured that being reunited here would finally bring him the vision he's been dreaming of daily of you running into his arms once again.

Instead, you'd stared dead-eyed and lifelessly as Lady Laena's casket was lowered into the sea, like you had gone away somewhere else within yourself. And once the service was through, you'd disappeared from the crowded throngs of people gathered round.

He weaves between bodies, glancing this way and that, looking for one particularly comely face, until he reaches a set of steps leading downward and he hears a familiar, quiet cry.

He steps down them, finding you curled into yourself, shaking and crying, so much so that you gasp for air, choking on your own tears.

"Niece," he calls softly.

Your head jerks in his direction and his heart sinks when he takes in your blotchy tear-stricken face.

You quickly wipe at your cheeks with your palms. "Aemond—"

"Uncle," he says, correcting you, taking a seat beside you.

He then pulls you into his arms, wrapping his green velvet cloak around your shoulders. "It's alright. You can cry if you wish. It's just us."

Your chin wobbles and then you turn into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as sobs wrack through your body.

He is silent for a moment, rubbing his hand against your back.

"I'm sorry...about Ser Harwin."

You begin to cry impossibly harder, confirming for him the source of your despair.

"I miss you," he whispers.

You wrap your arms around his middle and he presses a soft kiss to your long brown hair.

"I am...glad we're here together. Even given the circumstances."

You nod softly, hiccupping. "Me too."

He rests his cheek atop your head, closing his eyes, feeling—for the first time since your sudden absence from the one place you are meant to call home—at peace. "I've enjoyed our letters. Hearing from you, that is. It makes you seem not so far away at times."

You press yourself to his chest.

"I hate Dragonstone," you state. "I want to go home."

He tightens his arms around you. "I want that as well."

A beat of silence.

"We should be together. We're supposed to be."

There's a soft knock at your door and you set down your porcelain doll, padding over to it. "Who...who's there?"

"Uncle Aemond," comes a quiet reply.

Just then, a lock slides free and you slowly open the door just a crack. "What're you doing?"

He glances behind you. "Can I come in? I thought...you might be lonely."

You consider for a moment, then nod, opening the door wider, allowing him entrance.

You lock it once more behind you as you turn to him. "Did anyone see—"

"They never do," he says, coming back toward you, taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips to yours.

You rear back, stumbling. "Aemond—"

"Uncle," he insists. "It's been...weeks. And we...we miss each other. I thought you'd want to."

You blink at him for just a moment, tugging nervously at the sleeves on your nightgown. "I just don't want to get in trouble. We've never...been here before. It's not like the Red Keep where we had hiding places. And the passages."

He glances around, then settles his eyes on your wardrobe, nodding to it. "If someone comes, I'll hide in there."

He looks back to you.

And then you smile softly, nodding. "Okay."

Aemond's fingers slip clumsily between your legs and he looks to you, his hand trembling as you stare up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

"Does...does that feel good?" He asks, his voice wavering with unsurety.

You nod, gripping the hem of your nightgown that's bunched up around your naked waist.

He nods just once in return, continuing.

You whimper quietly and his eyes flit to the door. "We...we have to be quiet, Y/N."

"I know," you whisper.

Your body jerks, then settles again and you begin to pant softly. "I...think I'm...almost. I think..."

He leans down, pressing a brief kiss to your lips, his heart hammering away in his chest.

You close your eyes then, concentrating.

He watches your features twitch and your brows furrow, your hips lifting to meet his hand. "I'm—" he pauses. "I'm glad we could. One last time. Are...are you?"

You nod. "Yes."

When you're finally overcome with that wonderful feeling neither of you has a name for yet, it's with you biting your lip and Aemond staring at the door, terrified at any moment the two of you may be caught. Even if the lock is in-place.

Part of him hopes for it, however. If you were, his mother and yours—his father, the King—would have no choice but to betroth you then. To make his beloved niece his for forever.

You glance down to Aemond's trousers, then back to him.

He blushes madly. "I...well, something happened when we were..."

You blush as well. "Oh."

It's happened before—him doing that in his pants without you even touching him. Neither of you are sure if it's normal, but he always seems embarrassed by it, so you don't dwell on it, either.

He lies back, resting his head atop a feather pillow.

You curl against his side, resting a small hand atop his chest, which he takes in one of his own.

"I love you," he whispers. "My niece."

You smile, closing your eyes, feeling content for the first time since leaving King's Landing. "I love you, too, Uncle Aemond."

When you wake, it's dark and you're alone in bed, Aemond's side now empty and cold.

You rise with bleary eyes, yawning, wanting to go in search of him.

He wouldn't have gone back to his chambers, would he? He'd told you he would stay. This was to be your one night together to talk and laugh and enjoy each other's company before being ripped apart again.

You shrug on a small robe, padding over to the door, trying to remember which way he'd said his room was.

Until you see people rushing past you in a frenzy.

And then one of your mother's handmaids spots you. "Princess," she says, voice breathless. "Come, your household has been summoned to the Great Hall."

She takes your hand in hers, leading you that way.

"Where's momma?" You ask quietly. "What's happening?"

"All will be well, Princess," is all the reply she gives.

You wish Aemond were here. You're sure he would know. He always knows. About everything.

There is much commotion when you enter the Great Hall—many familiar faces present: Queen Alicent, your grandsire, Ser Otto, Ser Criston, as well as your brothers.

Your brothers...who have blood on them and seem...frightened. You begin to scan the room in a panic then, and it is only when Queen Alicent steps to the side that you see.

And you let out a scream, many heads turning in your direction, Aemond's own shooting up—only one eye focusing on you.

Tears stream down your cheeks and you cup your hands over your mouth as you head toward him—your feet moving all on their own—until a hand pulls you back.

You look behind you to the Princess Rhaenys, and she merely wraps that same hand around your shoulder, holding you in-place.

"Aemond," you say between sobs and he merely stares back at you without a word.

Your eyes flit to his mother and she meets your gaze briefly before shaking her head, turning back to her son.

You stand behind your mother, clutching at her skirts, trembling violently, watching as blood oozes from her wrist and onto the floor.

"M-m-mama," you say quietly and Jace wraps an arm around your shoulders, shooshing you.

And then Aemond interrupts the tense silence.

"Do not mourn me, Mother. It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye...but I gained a dragon."

You let out a quiet sob, shrugging off your brother's arm, going to step away from your mother, until Aemond gives a small shake of his head and your steps falter.

He stands, taking his own mother's hand, their household exiting the room.

You stare after him, feeling empty.

You seat yourself on the balcony outside, a war raging in your young, tired mind.

You do not know who you should be more upset with.

Luke for taking Aemond's eye—or perhaps he, Jace, Baela, and Rhaena altogether for attacking him to begin with.

Aemond for calling you and your siblings bastards. He...he's told you more times than you can count that he loves you. Why would he say such things, then? Even if they are true, he's never used it against you to hurt you before.

But he himself had been hurt. So, mayhaps, that is why. He was merely lashing out. Understandably so.

Queen Alicent for harming mama. But she was angry. Her son has now been permanently disfigured. Mama would do the same for any of you.

This was not how the night was meant to be. Aemond had promised that come the morn, the two of you would break your fasts together, and then give each other a kiss goodbye.

And now...everything is ruined.

You look up then, watching as Vhagar circles the sky above, and you continue to think of him.

Aemond had, for so long, when you were much younger, seemed larger than life to you. He was older, a prince, your uncle. He seemed to know everything when you were little. You'd often toddle around, trailing after him, holding his hand, babbling incoherent nonsense before you knew how to speak, but every word he spoke to you? It was like magic.

His name had been among some of your first words. A shortened version, perhaps—'mend'—but his name, nonetheless.

You might've screamed like an utter brat at the top of your lungs once or twice when you had gone to his chambers as a little girl, when met at the doorway by his Queen Mother telling you he was busy with his lessons and could not have company at the moment. He'd been the only thing in all the world you'd ever pitched a fit or misbehaved over.

As soon as he heard you wailing for him, however, he always came—your sour demeanor quickly changing to that of smiles and giggles.

So him having claimed the largest dragon in all the world? She was meant for him to have.

And to be punished for it, and in such a terrible way... You blame yourself.

If you had been there when your siblings and cousins went to seek vengeance for him rightfully claiming her...you could've stopped things, you're sure.

What you don't know is that Aemond had left you to sleep, simply because he wanted you to have your rest and to be safe incase his plan with Vhagar...did not go accordingly. If you were ever caused harm due to his actions, he'd never forgive himself.

But if he did manage to claim her, he'd wanted to surprise you in the morn by sailing through the skies with you—listening as you laughed and screamed excitedly in his arms. As he promised you that once he was older and bigger, he would take you away, and the two of you would become husband and wife.

You would no longer have to play pretend at it then.

When will he learn...fairytales only ever exist in books.

Aemond looks behind him—behind Vhagar—as Driftmark grows smaller in the distance and he fills with regret.

He should've met you halfway in the Great Hall. Should've wrapped his arms around you. Should've...should've damned himself further by telling them all what he'd done with you as they slept.

He's sure that with so many bearing witness to such testimonies there would be no other way about it then. Your father would betroth the two of you in an instant—his mother's wishes finally overridden.

But he'd held his tongue, stayed his hand, because she'd suffered enough already—had risked all to find recompense on his behalf as she sliced into your mother's skin with that blade.

He will write to you as soon as he reaches home. Will reassure you of his love for you. Of how he thinks of naught else except you now.

But he does not know, nor you, that such correspondences...will never reach your wanting hands.

Nor yours his.

[youaintnothinbuta]

Could you do an Elvis x reader where the reader likes another person that is sat at a table with them and she thinks she is playing footsie with said person but finds out it’s actually Elvis and they end up going out together instead of her and the other guy.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that all night” — Elvis x reader

Summary: Out at dinner with some friends, Elvis manages to skew your attention away from the boy you were originally interested in, and he and you seperate from the group, going to catch a picture just the two of you :)

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!Elvis x fem!reader

Word count: 2.1K

Warnings: none, fluff!! There may be typos sorry in advance <3

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The small restaurant was alive with conversation, the clinking of silverware against plates, and the low hum of laughter that seemed to fill every corner of the room. You were seated at a round table, large enough to fit everyone comfortably but small enough to keep the group feeling close-knit. The soft glow from the overhead lights made everything feel warm and intimate, setting the mood nicely for a meal with friends.

You strategically sat yourself across from Danny, the boy you were a bit keen on. His sandy hair caught the light every time he turned his head. You’d noticed him before, casually, in the way that someone stands out in a crowd. You weren’t too familiar with him yet, nor many of the guys. As you sat across from him though, you couldn’t help but feel a subtle pull, your eyes finding his more than once as the night wore on. Your best girlfriend sat beside you, keeping you well entertained, but your focus kept drifting back to Danny, catching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled.

Seated directly beside Danny, was Elvis Presley—a name that was beginning to mean something to people outside of your little group. You’d heard him sing a few times, and he’d always been part of these gatherings, but you didn’t find him to be anything special. Or so you thought.

Finally, food was beginning to be brought out, and you felt a nudge against your foot under the table. It was subtle, barely there, but it caught your attention. You glanced up, and your eyes met Danny's for a brief moment. A small smile tugged at your lips as you assumed it was his way of testing the waters.

You responded in kind, nudging back, your foot brushing against his ankle. A little thrill ran through you—innocent, playful, nothing too serious, but enough to make your heart flutter a little.

Again, you pressed, seeing if he’d play back. You felt his hand catch your ankle, the warmth of it startling you for a split second before he began to draw soft, teasing traces over your skin. Your breath hitched, almost gasping at how intimate it felt. You quickly looked up at Danny, expecting to see a smirk, a hint of recognition in his eyes. But instead, you watched him bring both hands to the table, fiddling with one of the rings on his fingers. Confusion clouded your head. Danny's hands were both clearly visible as he listened to someone's story.

You felt your stomach do a small flip as your gaze slid sideways, to the person sitting right next to Danny.

Elvis.

He was lounging back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded as he listened to the conversation, his expression unreadable, with one hand resting on his lap. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. But then, as if sensing your gaze, he looked over at you, his eyes locking with yours.

Realisation hit you slowly. It wasn’t Danny at all. It was Elvis. And with that realisation came another—maybe, just maybe, you liked it better this way.

He watched you, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that made your cheeks burn. There was something in his eyes, something that told you he knew exactly what was going on. He broke contact with your skin, bringing both of his hands back to visibility.

As you sat there, trying to compose yourself, one of your girlfriends turned and gave you a concerned look. She’d always been good at picking up on your moods, and tonight was no exception. With a gentle hand, she pressed the back of her fingers against your cheek, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone laced with worry. “You’re burning up.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden attention. “No, no, I’m fine,” you stammered, trying to wave off her concern. Elvis’ was watching you still, and he seemed rather amused at the way he was flustering you.

Your friend wasn’t convinced. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she eyed you. “Come on,” she said, her voice taking on a more playful tone. “Let me fix ya up.”

Before you could protest, she took your hand and gently pulled you up from your chair.

Elvis was leaning back in his chair, his eyes twinkling with merriment. There was a smirk playing on his lips, a look that told you he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

She guided you down a narrow hallway, past the hum of the restaurant’s main room, until the two of you reached the small, dimly lit bathroom.

Once inside, she turned to you with a mischievous grin, shutting the door behind her. “Alright,” she said, her tone light and teasing. “Let’s see what’s going on with you. You’re all flushed.”

You tried to play it off, shrugging and giving her a sheepish smile. “I guess it’s just a bit warm in there,” you said, but you knew she wasn’t buying it. She always had a knack for seeing right through you.

“Mhm,” she hummed, reaching into her purse and pulling out a compact and a powder brush. “Or maybe it’s something else entirely?” she teased, giving you a knowing look as she dabbed the brush into the powder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, though the words felt weak even as you said them.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she gently powdered your face, freshening up your makeup.

“There,” she said finally, stepping back to admire her work. “Good as new.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, noting how much calmer you looked, at least on the outside. Inside, though, you were still reeling slightly.

“Thanks,” you said, giving her a grateful smile.

“Anytime,” she said, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur, your focus shifting entirely. Every time you glanced up, you found Elvis’ eyes on you, a silent conversation passing between you that no one else was privy to. By the time desserts came around, you were no longer thinking about Danny at all.

Everyone began to finish up and gather their things, making plans for what to do next. The group was splitting up, some heading out to another spot, others calling it a night. You were about to say your goodbyes when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Need a ride home?” Elvis asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure. But then you nodded, your decision made. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He nodded goodbye to the other boys, holding the door open for you. The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stepped outside. It cleared your head. You glanced up at Elvis, who was walking beside you with an easy confidence.

He walked you over to a pink Cadillac. The interior was white, the whole thing looked brand new. You couldn’t quite believe it was his. Perhaps this whole music gig was more serious than you originally thought. He opened the passenger door for you, before he climbed in beside you, his presence warming the space as he started the engine.

The drive was quiet at first, with only the hum of the car and the soft sounds of the city filling the background. You glanced over at him, trying to gauge his thoughts, but his expression was relaxed, almost unreadable. After a few minutes, you realized you weren’t quite ready for the night to end.

“Elvis?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He glanced over at you, his eyes warm and attentive. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, a little nervous to suggest anything else. “What time is it?”

Elvis flicked his wrist slightly, checking his watch. “Just past nine,” he replied.

“It’s still early,” you said, the words coming out before you could think better of them.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he nodded, understanding your hint. “You wanna do somethin’ else?” he asked, his tone playful.

You nodded shyly, “Yeah.”

He grinned, turning the car onto a new street. “How ’bout the drive-in? There’s probably another picture showing soon. We could catch that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you spoke, “sounds perfect.”

The drive to the drive-in didn’t take long, just, just a few miles out of town. When you pulled up, the large screen was already glowing with the start of a movie, and rows of cars were parked in front of it, people getting cosy or sitting on the hoods of their cars to watch.

Elvis found a spot toward the back, away from the crowd, giving you both a little privacy. He turned off the engine, and you settled into your seat as the movie played on the screen in front of you. The cool breeze brushed over you, and you felt a comfortable closeness to him that hadn’t been there before.

You both watched the screen in silence for a while, the dialogue and music filling the air. But as the minutes passed, you felt his arm slide along the back of the seat behind your head, his fingers lightly brushing your shoulder. Your breath hitched, and when you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, his eyes soft and searching.

Without a word, you shifted closer to him, your body naturally leaning into his warmth. He welcomed you into his embrace, his arm wrapping around you more securely as you rested your head against his chest. It was an innocent enough move, but it sent your heart racing all the same.

The movie played on, but you were barely paying attention now. Instead, you focused on the steady beat of his heart under your ear, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. You felt safe, content, but there was also that undeniable spark of attraction.

At one point, he shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently tilt your chin up so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, but there was a softness there too, something tender that made your chest tighten.

“You comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as his thumb traced soft circles on your upper arm.

You smiled, nodding, too nervous to speak.

His lips quirked up into a small smile, and he nodded. “Good.”

There was something in his eyes, something unspoken that made your breath catch.

“Elvis…” you started.

Then, slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over yours in a tentative, testing kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant.

You responded without thinking, your hand coming up to rest on his chest as you kissed him back, a little more firmly this time. He made a soft sound of approval in the back of his throat, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss, his thumb gently brushing against your skin.

It was slow, sweet, but there was a heat beneath it, a promise of something more. When you finally pulled back, you could see the desire in his eyes, you were sure he could see it in yours too.

“I’ve been wantin’ to do that all night,” he admitted, his voice hushed.

You smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest. “So have I.”

The rest of the movie passed rather quickly, your focus entirely on him, the way his fingers intertwined with yours, the way he would occasionally press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head.

When the credits finally rolled, Elvis glanced over at you. “Guess I should get you home now, huh?”

You nodded, though part of you wished the night didn’t have to end. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He smiled, but there was a hint of reluctance in it. “Don’t worry, darlin’. This won’t be the last time.”

You nodded sheepishly. He gave you one last lingering look before turning the key in the ignition. The drive back to your place was quieter, both of you lost in your thoughts, but there was a new warmth between you now, a connection that hadn’t been there before.

When he pulled up to your house, he parked the car and turned to you, his eyes searching your face. “I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice sincere.

You smiled, feeling the same. “Me too, Elvis.”

He walked you to your front door. As you stood on the porch, you hesitated for a moment, not really wanting to go inside.

He leaned down, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Elvis,” you whispered back.

As you slipped inside your house, closing the door behind you, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, not for the rest of the night.

[abbys-wifey]

GOOD PIECE OF MEAT

pairing: sevika x female reader

warnings: men.

A/N: soooo…. hey guys. i’m back-ish. i won’t be updating like regularly but i will give you guys the odd one shot. since the trailer of arcane has come out i decided to start redoing arcane oneshots so feel free to request some, i may not be able to do heaps of requests but i will do a few. sorry for abandoning you guys for so long btw i just lost my love for writing for a bit but it coming back now so yay. anyway i love sevika with my whole heart and LEMME KNOW WHAT U THINK OF THE ARCANE TRAILER IN THE COMMENTS PLEASE. i need people to talk about this with. i missed you all :))

I was freezing to say the least. The cold streets of Zaun were no place for me right now, not at this time of night, especially when I had left my jacket back at my apartment. And so I head quickly to the Last Drop making sure to stay away from the shadowy corners and avoid the lingering looks of the strangers within the musky alleys.

Finally, the dimly lit bar comes into view. Music and shouts echo outside the entrance as I walk towards it, excited to finally see the person I had been missing all day.

“Name and business?” The bouncer extends a hand out stopping me from reaching the front door, his expression lacking any sort of emotion. I hadn’t seen him before, no doubt new to this job and so blissfully unaware of who I am. “I’m here to see my girlfriend.” I frown still shivering in the outside air. “Who?” The bouncer replies crossing his arms and raising one caterpillar looking eyebrow.

“Sevika.”

Instantly his stature changes. Eyes widen in shock and his stance becomes a lot more hospitable. “Welcome to the Last Drop. You’re looking ravishing tonight.” He smiles almost too kindly and opens the door ushering me inside.

The bar smells of alcohol and sweat, nothing I hadn’t smelt before but still, not necessarily pleasant. Ignoring the scent in the air I scan the crowd till I find my girlfriend who sits with an accomplished smirk on her lips. Surrounded by four other men, she plays cards obviously winning as the others sit sullen faced or groaning in defeat.

Pushing through the sea of people I make my way over, Sevikas eyes meeting mine as I reach the table. “Hi baby.” I smile happy to finally see my girlfriend after a long day at work.

She grins throwing her cards face up onto the table eliciting groans from the other four members although her eyes stay locked on me.

“Hi princess, did you have a good day?” She reaches for my hand with her flesh one gently tugging me onto her lap and pressing a kiss to the side of my head as I face the rest of the table.

“Yeah, it was ok.” I reply looking up at her with a small smile. “I missed you though.” I whisper leaning back into her chest. Sevikas grip on my waist tightens as her thumb traces small circles around my hip bone. “Missed you too.” She grunts.

Turning my attention back to the other four at the table I can’t help but let out a small chuckle at their gobsmacked faces.

It wasn’t often I came to the Last Drop, but when I did I always gathered the same reaction. People were astonished at how I somehow had gathered the most feared women in Zauns affection. Her softness towards me especially in public made everyone turn to stare.

“So Miss Muscle Woman has herself a little pet.” One man scoffs his eyes lingering on me. I can feel Sevika tense under my body as he eyes me up again. “Well you picked good Sev, she’s a pretty one alright.” He chuckles again, looking at his mates for back up only for them to shake their heads in fear.

Both Sevikas metal hand and flesh hand softly grip my waist as she lifts me off her lap and onto the chair beside her. The bar goes silent, each and every individual looking over as Sevika stands up to her daunting six foot height in complete silence and slowly stalks round the table to stand in front of the man.

He quickly realises his mistake and holds up his hands in defence as he scurries backwards, falling from his chair. “I-I’m just saying Sev, she’s a very good looking piece of meat you know? Go-Good for you and all. I don’t want her myself but-”

It all happens rather fast. Sevika’s cape is flung off her shoulder and before I can blink the man is cut off, lifted from the ground by his throat. “Apologise to her.” She snarls menacingly as he kicks and wheezes, hands pawing at the metal that slowly carved into his neck. “Now.” Sevika barks tightening her hold causing his eyes to widen as his air way is cut off. The man manages to let out a weak sorry aimed in my direction before he’s dropped to the floor. His breath comes back all at once as he inhales deeply, clutching weakly at his throat.

“Say another word about my girl ever again and I wont make the same mistake of letting you live. Do I make myself clear?” She leans in close to the man holding the front of his shirt as she snarls at him. He nods frantically a few tears rolling down his face and onto the already purple bruise forming on his neck.

Letting his shirt go Sevika goes to stand up again before swinging her flesh fist at his face causing him to go flying backwards, blood splattering against the chair he once sat in.

“And don’t let me catch you in here again.” She shouts after him as he turns on his heel and hobbles out the bar. She smirks satisfied before turning to the rest of the onlookers. “Anyone else got something to say?” She asks, her voice low and dangerous almost daring someone to talk. Immediately everyone goes back to the previous activities trying not to bring attention to themselves.

I breathe out a sigh of relief as Sevika finally turns back to me, her flesh hand coming to land on my cheek stroking it softly as a small frown is etched on her head.

“Are you ok princess?” She asks softly. I nod. “I am now.” I smile and press a kiss to her palm. “Can we go home please ? That made me even more tired.” I ask.

Sevika nods instantly getting her cloak off the floor and reaching for my hand as we walk out the door and into the streets.

Shivering once again I move closer to my girlfriend who chuckles as I cling to her arm. “Here.” She wraps her cloak around my shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m not gonna let anything hurt you princess. Not even the cold. Not while I’m around.”

[gvcci-bxby]

the arrangement (mini series) - chapter 1: good morning and goodbye

pairing: neteyam sully x omatikaya reader

word count: 2.1k

summary: enemies to lovers trope; you and neteyam are enemies, destined to be the future leaders of the omatikaya clan. will you continue to hate each other or find a way for the arranged mate ship to work?

warning: angst, v light cussing, complex past between characters, prolly some misspellings lol.

announcement: this is the first chapter of my first ever mini series! I'm so excited to write the rest and make a full story out of this <3 stay tuned for the rest! enjoy!

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

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The sun shone bright through the thick branches of the trees, the light blinding your eyes. You held your arm up, struggling to block the sun from your eyes. You made your way from your home to the center of the Omatikaya village, gathering for the morning meeting. The village was busy, villagers finishing up their breakfast quickly to make the beginning of the meeting. 

You sighed, scanning the crowd to find your family. They had left before you, irritated at your lack of awareness of the time. After a moment, you saw the back of your mother and navigated your way through the crowd of bodies. You nudged your way through, getting closer to your mom. 

“Oh, finally” your mother said, once you tapped her when you got to her, “I told your father I was going to skin you if you were late.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing again. “I’m here mother; I told you I’d be here.” 

Your mother shook her head, looking from you towards the front of the crowd. “You never find these meetings important.” 

You shrugged, already annoyed by being there. You looked towards the front of the crowd, too, waiting for the village meeting to start. There had been rumors of sky-people approaching the village territory and Jake Sully, the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, requested that the village gathers together to discuss what to do if the sky-people were to invade. 

After a moment, Jake walked onto the platform, his family close behind him. Your eyes scanned the rest of the family, your eyes grazing each one of them. Neytiri, Jake’s mate, stood close to Jake, listening closely to Jake’s speech. Their children Lo’ak, Kiri, Tuk, and Neteyam stood in a line next to Neytiri. You sharply inhaled when your eyes landed on Neteyam, grimacing at the way his chest puffed up, his eyes grazing the audience. Suddenly, you and Neteyam made eye-contact and you clenched your jaw. Neteyam smirks, looking away and breaking eye-contact with you after a moment. 

You and Neteyam had a long, extensive history. You had been familiar with each other since the day you were born and have had problems with each other since. There was always a rivalry between each other, always trying to prove you were better than each other and never able to understand each other the same way other young Na’vi were able to. It also didn’t help that you were rumored to be paired to be future Tsahìk and Olo’eyktan. 

For the rest of the meeting, you avoided looking at Neteyam, too afraid to find him looking back at you. When the meeting is over, you go to turn around, but your mom grabs ahold of your bicep spinning you back around. 

 “Come with me,” Your mother says, tapping your father’s shoulder signaling to follow her too. 

You struggle against her grip, but eventually submitting under her grasp. Your mom dragged you to the front of the stage, meeting the Sullys. Your stomach dropped as you rounded the corner, running right into Neteyam. 

“Y/n,” Neteyam said, peering down at you. You huffed in response, turning your body towards Jake and Neytiri. 

Your parents bowed at the sight of Jake and Neytiri and you followed knowing that if you didn’t you’d get an earful once you got home. Plus, you liked the Sullys; they were great leaders, such kind people and you were friends with Kiri. However, you always wondered if Neteyam was adopted. There was no way a rude Na’vi such as Neteyam was created by Jake and Neytiri. 

“Please, don’t feel the need to bow.” Jake said, lifting your mother’s posture to stand up straight. 

Your mother smiled, nodding. She folded her hands in front of her, trying to be best on her best behavior. “You wanted to speak with us, Jake?” 

The wind blew, causing a chill to run up for your body. You wished you had brought a cover-up, but you were deceived by the bright, warm sun that entered your home when you were on your way out earlier. 

Jake waved his kids away, telling them to finish their chores. Neteyam went to join his siblings, but his father grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “Not you, Neteyam.” Jake said, shooting his son a scowl.

“Yes, I wanted to discuss Y/N and Neteyam’s future together.” Jake said, letting Neytiri grasp his bicep with her small hands. 

“We thought it would be important to have them become acquainted with each other considering their… complex history.” Neytiri said, trying to keep a smile on her face towards the end. 

You could almost feel your mother’s excitement beside you. When you had been born, wood sprites from the tree of souls surrounded you acknowledging your pure soul. Since then, Jake and Neytiri determined you would be the perfect for their first-born son, Neteyam. As long as you could remember, you were to be Neteyam’s mate. Every female in the Omatikaya has told you how lucky you are because you would be the future Tsahìk and mate to the gorgeous Neteyam Sully. The first part you knew was true, you would be the future Tshaìk, but the part about Neteyam being ‘gorgeous’ was debatable. At least for now. 

You felt nauseous, the thought of discussing you and Neteyam having a future, together, was too much. 

“I agree,” Your father said, “They will be mated soon, correct?” 

Neytiri nodded, a smile reappearing on her face. You always thought she was beautiful. “Yes, we should plan a ceremony to introduce them to the clan as a pair and future leaders in case anything were to happen to me and Jake during one of these raids by the sky-people.” Her eyes nervously shifted to Jake, thinking about anything happening to her or her mate. 

You crossed your arms, looking away. You noticed Neteyam glancing at you and looking down at the ground, his braids covering his face. In the moment, listening to your parents discuss your future with Neteyam, you couldn’t help but think of all the times you and Neteyam had a spat with each other. 

There was the time he whispered about you to his friends as you walked by, sneaking up behind you to pull your tail. You hissed; he laughed shaking his head at your reaction. There was also the time you slept in a hammock, your body exhausted from chores and Neteyam tipped you over, leaving you to stumble to the ground. Prank after prank, they continued to get irritating as the years went on. During training, your relationship never eased. Both you and Neteyam aimed to outdo each other every chance you got. Eventually, each of your friends suggested it would be best to stay away from each other. 

Your mother patted your shoulder, bringing you back into the conversation and out of your thoughts. “Are you listening, y/n?” she asks, a curious look on her face. 

You nodded, “Yes, I am.” 

Beside you, Neteyam snickered knowing very well that you weren’t listening at all. 

“Got something to say, son?” Jake asked, looking towards Neteyam.

Neteyam’s ears went back, and he shook his head, “No sir.” 

Jake nodded, “Good, I didn’t think so.” 

Neytiri rolled her eyes, re-focusing back on the topic at hand. “So, we thought it would be good to encourage Neteyam and Y/N to get to know each other and create some sort of bond before the ceremony.” 

“Mom I-,” Neteyam said, his eyes widening. Jake shushes Neteyam, shooting him a disappointed look. Neteyam focuses his gaze on the ground again. You laughed softly, shaking your head at the idea of dating Neteyam in preparation to be officially mated and formerly introduced to the clan. 

Jake clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. Neytiri’s hands fell of his arm, and she frowned at his abrupt movement. 

“I’ve had it with both of your shenanigans, constantly arguing with each other. You’re both destined to be the future leaders of this clan it’s about time you start acting like it.” Jake said, pointing his finger at you and Neteyam. “I don’t know where this rivalry between you two came from, but it has to end. You are going to be mated, very soon if it’s up to me, and it’s much easier to at least like your mate rather than be miserable for the rest of your life. End of story.” 

You felt your teeth clench, your face heating up with embarrassment from being scolded by the Olo’eyktan. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Neteyam peak a look at you and then back at the ground. 

Your mother sniffed, trying to break the silence. “Shall we leave the children to talk and have tea at our home?” she said, looking at your father for support. 

Jake and Neytiri agreed, leaving you and Neteyam alone together with one final look. For a second, you stood in front of Neteyam awkwardly. Then, you thought how insane this was, mating with Neteyam. You could never be physically, or spiritually, tied to Neteyam. You didn’t want to, you wouldn’t. 

“Good morning,” Neteyam said, drawing a blank at what to say to you. He regretted his choice of wording when he saw your face. 

“Good morning, and goodbye.” You said, turning to march away from him. 

“Y/n,” Neteyam called after you, “Stop, for one second.” 

You walked away, not turning around to meet his request. You only got a few feet away from him when you felt a hand on your shoulder, spinning you around. 

You are greeted by Neteyam’s tall stature, peering through your eyelashes at him. Neteyam crossed his arms once you fully faced him. 

“We need to talk about this,” Neteyam said

“No, we don’t because it’s not happening.” You said, crossing your arms to match him.

“I don’t think we have a choice, Y/n” 

You scoffed, “Yes the hell we do, we can’t be forced into a mateship. I won’t be forced into a mateship, especially with you.” 

Neteyam rolled his eyes, although he was slightly amused by your attitude. He had submitted to the idea of being your mate long ago, his parents talking about it any chance they get. Although he wasn’t fond of the idea, his clan came first even if that meant being in an arranged courtship. 

“Look,” Neteyam said with a huff, “I don’t want to do this just as much as you but I’m tired of being targeted by my dad’s wrath because of your distain for me. I know we’ve had a complicated past but we’re adults now, about to be presented as future leaders of the clan. We should just move on.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, sure. You get to decide when we move on when I’ve been the one subjected to your childish and vicious pranks.” 

“I haven’t prank you in a while and only because I knew us mating would be coming up soon.” 

Your jaw dropped open slightly, “thanks for sparing me, Neteyam.” You turned around, walking away to exit the conversation. Neteyam didn’t miss a beat, only a pace behind you. 

“Y/n, stop being stubborn.” Neteyam said, adjusting his pace to match yours. 

“I’m not being stubborn; I just don’t want to mate with you.”

Neteyam grimaced at your tone and abruptness. “We don’t have a choice and like I said, I’m tired of being yelled at by my dad about this whole thing.” 

You stayed silent the rest of the short walk to your home. Neteyam let you be, continuing to walk beside you until you reached your front door. You turned around to look at Neteyam briefly who stood a few feet from you. 

When you made eye-contact, a weird feeling coursed through you. When you looked at his face, you saw Neteyam as a small child, his shoulder length braids framing his round cheeks. For a moment, you thought you saw the innocence in him, the mutual experience of being forced into a courtship and the weight of being leaders of an entire clan. You had heard rumors from other female Na’vi in the clan, learning about his kind and gentle side from them. You never understood where his anger towards you came from, but you always assumed it was the resistance against having his mate chosen for him. You had felt that same anger too. At the same time, you almost, just almost, saw the attractiveness that buzzed around the Omatikaya girls as he stood on your doorstep after walking you back home. His tall stature, his defined chest…

You shook the feelings off, breaking eye-contact. “Bye, Neteyam.” 

You stepped in the doorway, beginning to close the door. Neteyam reached out, his hand holding the door open. “I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow.” Before you could say anything, Neteyam was gone.