#also i don't know if i'm doing this right. head scratch. some of my works might combine prompts i hope that's okay

[jankwritten]

Jasico Bingo Challenge: CHB Jason

Nico isn’t sure what’s worse: the fact that his childhood best friend seemingly disappeared into thin air a week ago, or the fact that the hottest guy he’s ever seen in his life has mysteriously appeared within Camp Jupiter’s walls. 

“Of course it was the first cohort,” he overhears after a Senate meeting, whispered in the halls. “He must be crazy powerful, if Lupa didn’t even need to train him!” 

“Shut up, that’s just a rumor. Everyone has to meet Lupa.” 

“They definitely met,” the first voice insists. Nico leans further into his shadows. The pair pass in front of him. “But she just let him go.” 

Hot guy is, of course, the gossip of the week. The month, even. 

Nico privately decides that hot guy is worse, only because it seems like his presence alone has turned the Legion into morons who’ve forgotten their freakishly powerful, supposed-to-be-Praetor has literally evaporated. Poof! No more son of Neptune! 

Nico would think the people who just a few years ago made a massive deal out of every move said son of Neptune made would pay a little more attention to the fact that the whole freaking man is gone! 

But no. There’s new gossip to be had, about a blonde with drool-worthy eyes and a scar on his lip and a suspiciously-missing backstory. 

Spend enough time in the Underworld, and you learn to suspect the whole amnesia act. Shades always know more than they pretend to. 

As the senate hall empties, Nico sinks fully back into the shadows. 

He will not let this stand. 

(to be continued)

[muqingslover]

[ This is different than what I usually post but I had to get this out of my system. The new DMC show brought back so many memories and idc what the haters say it's PEAK.

Anyway, to the DMC lovers out there, please accept this humble offering ]

Being in a relationship with Dante. | some NSFW included.

⊹— He may be the best demon hunter but in a relationship? He's the BIGGEST loser. Dante is always throwing some lame pick-up line your way and believe me when I say he will not give up until one sticks. (Spoiler warning: The fact that it actually works only makes him want to do it again)

—⊹ Dating Dante is not for the faint hearted. You have to be ready for all kinds of beyond ridiculous situations and have a godly amount of adaptability.

⊹— He will ALWAYS answer the phone for you. Literally. It doesn't matter what he's doing or where he is he will pick up the second he sees your name on the screen.

"Babe? Oh yeah! I'm totally still up for dinner! By the way, can you add those pieces of chocolate again to— *Approaching yelling in the background* Just a sec! *Crashing sounds and gunshots* Whew, okay, anyway like I was saying—"

—⊹ Oh yeah, he loooooves using pet names and silly nicknames. His personal favorites are "Babe" and "My little luck charm".

⊹— He likes to give you "traditional" dating gifts because that's what he always saw others do so when he shows up with a big ass teddy bear and a box of chocolates (which by the way he definitely ate some before giving it to you) please tell him you love it.

—⊹ Bro is so competitive. Dante is NOT letting you win in card games or any other board games because he wants to show off his skills to you. Though, if you get genuinely upset he would feel bad and invite you to play video games with him because he fails miserably at them every time.

⊹— His hands grab your ass every time you hug him. Not even in a sexual way he just can't help it and he never fails to throw a "nice ass" right after.

—⊹ Missing jewelry, hat or belt from your closet? He's the culprit. This guy will wear anything as long as he believes he looks good in it. I pray for you if you guys are a similar size because then you will have full clothing pieces missing.

⊹— He is THE hype man. Dante kisses the ground you walk on and he supports your rights and rights (because you could never do any wrong ;)).

—⊹ Dante's favorite thing is to show you off in every opportunity he gets. And if he doesn't have the opportunity then he'll just do it anyway. He is constantly yapping about how incredibly hot his partner is, how good your cooking is, how cute you look when you're focused and the way you smell so damn good all the time like, man! You're a freaking gift from the gods! (someone save poor Lady she can't bear to listen to him any more)

⊹— Please also hype him back in return! He has the worst praise kink case I've ever seen. Each time he's praised he just doesn't know what to do with himself and despite the initial cocky attitude he is easy to overwhelm if you don't stop. The first time you praised him while patting his head or scratching his chin he got a hard-on and had to rush out with a poor excuse before you noticed it.

—⊹ There is nothing romantic about sharing a bed with him. It's an absolute nightmare. First of all, this guy is physically incapable of sleeping with his clothes on. He just can't do it. Dante used to sleep butt ass naked but then you convinced him to at least wear boxers. Next on the list of problems is the snoring— Like, it's so loud you thought there was a truck engine next to you instead of your boyfriend. Not to mention the fact he takes up all space on the bed and moves around SO MUCH while he's asleep.

Please invest in separate beds before you kill him.

⊹— Absolutely hates morning. Getting him out of bed is the hardest thing to do and that's saying a lot with the life you two lead. He will keep you trapped in bed with him by wrapping his strong arms around your waist only to when you get up he sloooowly slides off the mattress and onto floor like a worm hanging to you.

—⊹ Surprisingly, or not, very insecure. This man is not controlling in any way though, he is just very worried that he won't be able to protect you if something was to happen or that you will realize you made a mistake by being with him.

⊹— His favorite thing is to make you smile. I know a lot of people paint him as stupid but I genuinely think he just acts silly as a defense mechanism. It's a mask. With you, though? He will purposely act like a dork because he knows it makes you smile.

—⊹ To add to that, Dante does everything he can to keep your spirits up; Someone hurt your feelings? No need to fret, he’s already planning their downfall. Feeling under the weather? tickle monster time! Migraine? He is closing the curtains and cuddling you until it gets better!

⊹— The filter between his brain and mouth is naturally bad but with you, who he is truly comfortable with, it's just INEXISTENT. This may range from random, useless bullshit to out of pocket comments that should definitely not be said out loud.

—⊹ Physical contact is his thing. I mean, he NEEDS it and can be very high maintenance about it. Having his hands on you is not enough for Dante he has to be as close as physically possible and you need to be giving him some kind of attention in return.

⊹— Hugging you from behind when you're cook, snuggling while on the couch together, keeping a firm arm hooked around your waist while outside, constantly nuzzling his nose on your hair, kissing your neck at every chance he gets, pulling you into his lap as if it's his second nature ECT.

—⊹ Did I mention he adores your hair? In particular long hair because then he can fidget with it by twirling it around his finger or by being a dork and putting it between his lips and nose to make a mustache.

⊹— Your lips are like a drug to him. He will be saying "okay, okay I REALLY gotta bail now" and then stare at you for a solid two seconds then steal another kiss and another and another....oops, he's 30 minutes late already.

—⊹ Dante is a biter. God help you when you give him cuteness aggression (which is basically always) because he will chew on you like candy. Your skin is often red from teeth marks and he doesn't feel sorry about it at all.

⊹— Cannot cook to save his life but absolutely loves your food. Especially if you're good at baking! Man's scarfing down those sweet treats like it's his last meal on earth.

—⊹ He sings while he's showering and holds the bottle of shampoo to you like a microphone so you'll join him. Oh and yes, he is VERY tone-deaf.

⊹— No matter how many times he sees you naked he never gets tired of that blessed sight. He flirts with you like it's the first time he's seeing you and those naughty eyes speak for themselves.

—⊹ He has a high libido, especially in the beginning of the relationship where he's even more excitable than usual. Sex can be very clumsy and messy with him, but that's just what makes it so him.

⊹— If you're a breasty lady, he is reaaaaaally into you using your boobs to get him off. Dante also enjoys having your lips around his cock more than words could describe and a quickie in dark, tight spaces is part of the package with him.

—⊹ Bondage is a guilty pleasure of his. Dante prefers to be the one restrained and left at your mercy instead of the other way around because it's just very hot to him when you take control. You're also the only one he would trust to be this vulnerable with.

⊹— This guy is always late for EVERYTHING, but he shows up without a fail in the end. No matter how battered or tired he might be, not even if he was run over by a truck, he will definitely be there.

[tinywand]

winning a fancall as their partner ᵔᴗᵔ

pairing - ot7 x gn!reader

genre - fluff

warnings - minor language (very minor) !

Jungwon

doesn't realize at first

does his rehearsed greeting, then is like, "??????"

"Y/n??"

lets out a sigh of relief and has a big smile

"You won't believe the fan call I just had... Some people.."

Jungwon vents his frustrations with people making him aegyo and meow

"Hey Wonnie?"

"Yes, Y/n?"

"Can you meow for me?"

Jungwon sits in silence for the rest of the call, arms crossed, and giving you a blank look.

When he sees you after, he continues to give the silent treatment until you offer to scratch his back

"Y/n, please don't ever do that again.."

Heeseung

ALSO doesn't realize right away

you both just kinda sit there like "😐"

then Heeseung goes "😮"

"Y/n! I didn't know you won a fan call! Why didn't you tell me?"

pretends to sulk, but is refreshed seeing you between all the other calls

"Don't be mad, I just wanted to surprise you!" You watch Heeseung start to laugh a little

"Well it worked! I love seeing all of ENGENE, but this is refreshing.. And this chair is really uncomfortable.."

"Well it's not like I'm a random ENGENE, stretch your legs while you can, Hee."

Immediately gets up and starts to stretch.

"See, this is why I love you so much Y/n."

You laugh as you see only his legs in view

He sits back down with a grin

"I'll see you later Y/n, thanks for letting me take a little break."

Jay

realizes its you and plans to tease you

"Oh my god." Jay says with a slight smile

"Surprise!" You let out little jazz hands

Pretends to not care, but secretly has butterflies

"Yeah yeah, whatever... How do I skip you?" Jay pretends to signal staff over

"Hey! Don't you dare! I won this fair and square!"

Jay laughs and blows into the mic

"Hey I thi- pshhhhhhhh this call is- psshhhhhhhh breaking up"

"You're so annoying, Jay. Im an ENGENE too you know, where's my dedicated three minutes?"

Jay laughs and settles in his chair, "Fine, I guess you're right, what do you want to talk about?"

"Actually I'm glad you asked, do you remember where I put my-"

"Hate to cut you off sweetheart, but times up." Jay laughs and sends an air kiss.

"That.. Brat!" You scowl, but end up only being able to laugh about it.

You jokingly complain about it when Jay sees you later that night

"Y/n, how about I go get you some snacks? Will that make you feel better?"

You nod, because how can that not help?

Jake

Immediately perks up. "Y/n?!"

You play dumb.. "Uh.. No that's not my name."

Jake looks confused for a second before doubling down. "Y/n, I know it's you. I literally see your posters in the back."

"Crap.." You mutter under your breath, letting out a nervous smile.

"Y/n, I didn't know you won a fan call? Were you trying to prank me? Next time I'll pretend to fall for it!"

Your heart swells, Jakes just too cute.

"Aaaghh, you make it really hard to stay in character you know. I had a whole plan set up."

Jake laughs, "Here, let's pretend like I did fall for it. Go on, do your prank."

You nod and show Jake a crude, not very well drawn photo of him. "I made this for you, cause you're my bias, Jake oppa!" You did a cringey aegyo after

"Never mind, please never do that again Y/n."

you head over to Jakes dorm, having a better prank in mind

You wait on his bed and run into his closet when you hear the boys get home.

"What the hell is this? Y/n?"

You pop out of the closet, seeing Jake staring at the fake body you made with pillows, only for the face to be your drawing

"PRANKED!!"

Sunghoon

pretends like he doesn't realize

"Hel- Oh wow. Usually I'm not supposed to say this, but you're the most attractive person I've ever seen.."

You do a mental facepalm

"Sunghoon, it's me, Y/n."

"Y/n? That's a beautiful name.. Here, let me write down my number and text me after this."

Sunghoon scribbles down his number and puts it up to the camera

"Stop playing dumb, hoonie! I was supposed to surprise you!"

"Ahh, playing hard to get? That's okay Y/n, I'm more than happy to fight for it."

"Hoon, why don't you ever flirt with me like this when we're together?"

"If I knew you, I definitely would Y/n."

Wait for him to finish his fancalls, then call him

"Oh hey babe, I saw the most beautiful ENGENE during the fan calls today..."

"Sunghoon, I swear to god I'm gonna kill you."

Sunoo

Immediately decomposes himself and lays on the table

"Y/n... its brutal out here..."

You let out a little chuckle, "What happened this time, Sun?"

Sunoo peeks up. "I have to pee, it's too hot in this room, my hair isn't cooperating, and we still have a bunch of fan calls left to do... I don't know if I can make it."

"Do it for ENGENE Sun, lots of them are looking forward to this.

Sunoo sits back up and nods.

"You're right Y/n, and they're all so nice! One of them showed me this picture they drew.. It looked exactly like me, just more handsome!"

You smile, letting Sunoo talk about all the ENGENE he met today.

"You feel better, Sun?"

"Yes, just what I needed."

A hour later Sunoo sends you a text.

"Thanks for the pick me up Y/n! I picked up some ice cream and I'm on my way over : )"

Ni-Ki

Notices its you before you even realize the call connected

Ni-Ki lets out a fake sigh. "Oh great.. It's you."

You cross your arms, used to Ni-Ki's teasing by now. "And what is that supposed to mean, Riki?"

He grins and sits back. "All I'm saying is you already take up my free time, you should share some with ENGENE."

You scoff and act hurt. "I'll have you know I won this spot buying albums. Actually- buying ENGENE versions trying to get YOURS Riki."

Ni-Ki shoots his hands up in defense. "I offered to give you one, don't pin this on me!"

You roll your eyes playfully. "If you gave me one it wouldn't count towards Billboard! I was being a supportive partner!"

Ni-Ki laughs, admitting defeat. "Alright you got me, but only because we don't have much time."

"Sounds like an excuse, but I'll take my win."

"Good decision Y/n, you don't win often!" Ni-Ki laughs

"Oh you're so dead when you get home."

You wait in Riki's dorm room, hearing his steps grow closer

You jump on him as he walks in

"Ack- What the- Y/n?"

"I told you earlier! Your dead meat Riki!"

[bi-writes]

What if 👀 what if we see when john proposes to the missus (is it too soon 😭) 🤩 they also live in my mind 24/7 you’re 🫵🏻 gonna be drowning in my asks

the key turns in the lock, nice and smooth this time. john oiled it before he left—he wanted this when he came, some sort of reminder that his hand has been here, in this house, so branded into its integrity that even the hinges no longer creak because he's made his nest here. (18+)

when he swings open the door, he doesn't recognize the sight.

you're sitting at the kitchen table with a sour expression on your face. there's a candle lit in the center, only one since the other has melted, so much so the wax is pooled underneath it next to the roast that's long since cold on its serving platter. there's glass of wine in front of you that's nearly empty, and a bottle within reach just as light.

john sucks on teeth a little as he drops his duffel bag by the door. the sound makes you flinch, and when he drops heavily into the seat across from you, he doesn't even react at the velvet box that sits on the table.

instead, he picks up his fork and starts to serve himself.

your eyes flick up to look at him, but he's too busy piling up meat and potatoes onto his plate. he takes off his hat and tosses it onto the table, and you scowl at the sight—you complain over and over again about that filthy fucking hat, and he has the nerve to set it down on the table like he's the one that's been working all day on a roast, molten chocolate lava cake, and tender mashed potatoes.

"you're late," you say. your voice croaks, hitching with your swallowed-down emotion. john takes his gloves off, tossing them beside the hat, and when he starts to undo the latches on his tact vest, you pick up your steak knife and pierce it right through the oak table. "don't you dare put that shit on my table."

"our table."

"oh, now you wanna chime in?"

john runs a few hands over his face. he looks tired. his beard is scruffy, more than usual, and the darkness under his eyes is heavy. his eyes aren't as bright as they normally are around you, and you find the tension in his shoulders to be especially wound. you don't care what he's gone through to get back to this table. maybe he fell out of a helicopter. maybe a bullet whizzed past his head and nearly splattered his brains. you don't fucking care—john price is sitting in front of you and eating the food you made and pretending like everything is just fine.

he laughs. it's humorless, but it angers you anyway. he's condescending; it's in his nature. when you question the way of things, when you try to put your foot down—you would punch him, but he'd ease out of the way, effortless, and it would annoy you greatly. then he'd probably take your wrists and pin them behind your back with one hand, and he'd smile doing it, because he's so much bigger than you, so much stronger. he kills people for less, it takes no effort to stifle the woman that shares his bed. everything is funny to him—everything is cute.

asshole.

"where'd you find tha'?" john asks. he doesn't look at it, but you know what he's talking about. you pick up the velvet box and pop it open. the ring blinds you. it must be at least three carats, a gorgeous thing, surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds around the band. it glitters, stunning, and if you were a stupider woman, you would've been wearing it already, but you're not.

"i found it when i was going through your shit," you spit at him. you tip your glass back and swallow down the rest of your wine. it goes down hot. "packing it for you."

"we goin' on a trip?"

"you certainly are."

john clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. he finally brings his eyes up to meet yours, and he brings a hand up to scratch at his beard.

"not leaving."

you laugh, too, smiling, bitter.

"i wasn't asking, john. but if you don't want your stuff, whatever. i'm sure it'll burn just fine."

john shoves his plate away from him, scooting his chair back. you expect him to get up, to come towards you. you expect him to grip you by the throat and bend you over the table so he can fuck you next to the extravagant meal you've made, but instead he huffs as you hear his belt buckle clink.

"what the fuck are you doing?" you scoff. john hums, grunting low, and then you watch with parted lips as he spits into the palm of his hand and lowers it. it's only a moment before he sighs deeply, a wet slick, slick, slick following the movement of his arm. "are you fucking serious?"

"mmm..." john clenches his jaw. "'s been awhile, love." he cracks his neck as he moves it from side to side, fixing his eyes on you as he moves his arm a little quicker. your lips tremble angrily, but you can't help the way you shift in your seat. your free hand plays with the hem of your skirt, and he rolls his shoulders back, licking his lips. "show me."

"fuck you."

"in a minute, love. show me."

you're shaking with anger. it's hot in your chest, making you buzz, but it doesn't stop your hands. it doesn't stop them from feeling over the collar of your blouse before you carefully undo the top buttons. john relaxes as he watches the fabric fall loose, and he hums knowingly when you drop the blouse and unclasp your bra.

your tits fall with a bounce. you're ashamed at how easy it is, to fall right back into the place you swore you would never go again. john groans, moving his chair back further, and you squeeze your thighs together as you watch his thick hand tug at his rigid cock with more and more of a chaotic rhythm.

"come 'ere."

"no."

"come here," john mutters. he says it in that way—that way you know that he won't ask again. he won't have to.

you stand on doe legs. they wobble, and you use the table as leverage, and when you make it in front of him, john pushes you until you're sitting on the edge of the table, right next to his half-eaten plate and his dirty gear. you flinch as he stands, stepping between your thighs, and you kiss as the tip of him presses against your drooling cunt. your legs rise, knees hooking around his hips, and john licks over his teeth as he keeps stroking himself.

"we've been over this," john growls. "haven't we, sweetheart?"

"i hate you."

"this is mine," john says into your ear. "your cunt. this house. this food—it's mine, and you know tha'. you love puttin' up a bloody brawl, i know tha', love, so i take it, but you won't be rid of me until i'm dead, y'hear tha'?"

"fuck you—"

"ugh—" john hisses. "gonna make me fuckin' come, love—"

john laughs through breathy moans when he feels you're wearing no knickers. sopping, pretty pussy just waiting for him—in his house, with his girl, the one that's about to have his name.

"john—"

his grip on your thighs is bruising as he pushes into you. just the tip, just enough to drive you insane, just in time for him to spill inside of you and fill you with a dizzying amount of cum. hot, sticky, messy—john's never been very good at cleaning up his messes. he seems to like it that way. he seems to like it ruined and overstimulated and begging.

he presses his forehead to yours, grunting as he pushes further inside of you. you'll ruin the wood underneath you being so wet, but john will fix it.

"when are y'gonna learn?" john murmurs. "hmm?"

"john..."

there is no john without you. you could run, but he'd find you. you could change the locks, but it wouldn't stop him from coming home. you could throw all of his things out, burn them, shred them, bury them, but he has no real ties to anything as trivial as things. john is a fixture in the air here. he lives in the wood that makes up the house. he's in your breaths that taste like cigar smoke. he's inside of you, hot, in the bruises that line your collarbone and your thighs and your hips. john is a rigid, immutable hook that is dug so far into your fleshy insides that it would be suicide to remove him from yourself.

he's a weed you cannot rid yourself of. you pick him out by the root, but he always comes back.

he kisses you like that—tits out, cunt drooling, engagement ring tossed aside just out of reach. you think he meant for you to find it. either as a result of your morbid curiosity or your temper tantrums—john probably figured whichever came first would be good enough.

he would never propose to you. you know this.

why the fuck would he ask you about something that's already a given?

in the morning, you're alone with your thoughts, watching the ring sparkle in the early sunlight. your hand is rested on his chest, moving with the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. you turn your hand over and stare at the thing—you aren't someone who's into material things so much. you appreciate them, but something about this new reality of yours makes you stare a little harder at the diamond, question the clarity just a little. you hope it made a huge dent in that wallet of his; you hope he gritted his teeth a little when he handed over his card.

you'll make his bank account weep. you're mrs. john fucking price.

[boltwrites]

Kitty

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: M Tags: Suggestive, Logan's cat ear hair, Teasing

Synopsis: Sleep-addled and maybe a little horny, you ask Logan if he does his hair like that on purpose.

A/N: Fun fact about this one - you could replace reader with Deadpool and the fic would probably be the exact same (but probably with more stabbing). Enjoy! Also I almost titled it Kittyuuuuuhhhh but decided against it LMAO. Is this good? No. But I needed to expel it like some kind of demon. Anyway-

You made a soft pleased noise, arching your back as you stretched as far as you could under the thin sheet of your shared bed. Muscled warmed, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, blinking blearily against the morning light that filtered in through the curtains.

You smiled - sleepy and sweet - as you propped yourself on your elbows to see the figure sat at the foot of your bed. Logan was already awake and halfway dressed, jeans hugging his hips as he leaned over to tug on his boots. Meanwhile, here you were - still in the oversized T-shirt you used as pajamas, your hair messy from sleep.

On that thought, your eyes drifted from where they had been admiring the taunt planes of his back, to Logan's own styled hair. He'd already brushed it, those little tufts that curled into what looked like tiny devil horns neatly defined in the soft morning light.

You frowned. Hmm, no, devil horns wasn't quite right. Not really.

You sat up, a hazy plan dancing through your mind as you crawled your way to the end of the bed. Logan glanced back at you - your heart flipped at the soft smile he offered you, making no effort to shy away from your touch.

"Hey, you don't have to get up because of me," he chided. You didn't listen - instead, you draped your arms around his warm shoulders, leaned in to pepper little kisses along his jaw, even if his beard caught most of them. You didn't mind how it tickled.

"But you're wearing my favorite outfit," you insisted, doing your best not to chuckle. You did like him in worn out jeans and no shirt. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on the man, though.

"I'm wearing half an outfit," he replied, turning just enough so that he could press a proper kiss to your lips. You sighed, pillowing your head on his shoulder as his lips met yours - lazy, gentle. Those weren't words you'd use to describe his kisses at any other time of day, really. This was special.

"I know," you replied, offering him a silly smile as you leaned against his shoulder, arm around his chest preventing him from dressing any further. He didn't seem to mind, though, as your free hand carefully carded your way through his hair - making sure not to displace any of his hard work.

"But something I don't know..." you continued, twirling a finger around the tip of one of the tufts. "Is why your hair ends up like this. Do you do it on purpose?"

"Do I do what on purpose?" he asked. It was laced with a chuckle, like he thought this was one of your half-awake musings. And, perhaps it was, in a way. You were, technically half-awake. But you weren't making things up. It was a real question that had crossed your mind on several separate occasions.

"You know-" you insisted, releasing that little bit of hair from your grasp. "The kitty ears."

"The what?"

He laughed it, pulled away from you if only to make sure you caught a glance of his expression - a mixture of shock and amusement that telegraphed to you that he still wasn't taking you seriously.

You rolled your eyes at him, removing your hand from around his shoulders to scratch along his scalp, up to that little tuft of curled hair. He closed his eyes, made a low rumbling noise in his throat that only seemed to further the illusion that he was really just some big cat in disguise.

"The kitty ears," you insisted, "do you or do you not purposefully style your hair so you have these little kitty ear things?"

You sat up on your knees, reaching both your hands up to curl in the tufts - tugging them just hard enough to make his eyes flutter open as he looked up at you.

"Cat ears," he deadpanned, doubt lacing his words. "You think my hair looks like cat ears."

"Kitty ears," you clarified, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "And you didn't answer my question, which means you absolutely do it on purpose."

"No-" Logan started, tone exasperated. But, unfortunately for him, he was already in too deep.

"Nope, sorry-" you laughed, sitting down behind him to wrap your arms around his bare chest, brushing through the downy hair there. "You're my little kitty now."

"Jesus Christ-" he groaned, rolling his eyes as you kissed his cheek. You made to kiss the corner of his lips next, but he turned his head ever so slightly, trying his best to quell the smile that was spreading. He'd just wanted you to pay attention as he insisted:

"I'm not a fucking cat."

"Why not?" you teased, kissing just under his ear with a little smile. "You've got the ears..."

You snaked a hand up to card through his hair again - making sure to rake your blunt nails along his scalp like you knew he loved. And, despite his dismissive tone, you caught his eyes fluttering closed, his lips parting ever so slightly.

"The claws..." you teased, punctuating each word with a new open-mouthed kiss to his neck - the last dotted with a touch of teeth that issued a sweet rumble from low in his throat.

"The fur-" your free hand slid down his chest - down the dips and curves of his defined abs, to tangle in the thicker hair that disappeared below the waistline of his jeans.

"And, I know how to make you purr," you chuckled, fingers dancing at the edge of his belt as your other hand weaved through one of those silly little kitty ears.

Logan wasn't immune to the way you touched him - when he laughed at your ridiculous comments, it was a bit breathless, even if he sounded absolutely exhausted with your antics.

"I have to get dressed," he insisted, his hand drawing over your own where you'd just started to wiggle your fingers under the tight denim. "And you're being ridiculous."

"Hmm," you hummed, nipping at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The muscles there jumped, tensed, then relaxed - and where he'd been grasping at your hand, your fingers briefly intertwined.

"If I remember correctly..." you pondered, nuzzling against his neck. "Kitties don't wear clothes."

"Oh, come on-" he groaned, laughing as he leaned back against your chest, his head pillowed on your shoulder. You grinned down at him. "How long are you gonna keep this shit up?"

"Until you're sick of it," you promised, kissing the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes. "Or, you take your pants off."

"We both know you'll keep saying it even if I take my pants off," he countered, his hold on your hand the only thing preventing you from inching your way into his pants.

"Touché. But -" you bargained. "I'd be distracted."

He laughed, loud and full, and your smile grew even more. That - that's what you really liked. When you could finally get some honest joy out of him. He looked so pretty when he smiled like that, even if it was brief. His hand squeezed over yours - soft, possessive, loving. That made your heart flutter even more than the thought of getting him undressed.

But he was right - you were never going to let him live this down.

[vixstarria]

Missionary with the lights off

We're back in Act 1 again! I swear I'll start moving forward now that I'm playing the game again, after this.

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x F!Reader

18+, blood drinking, fluff to smut, porn with plot, PIV

Pst, don't let the title mislead you too much

Approx. 1,800 words

AO3

You woke up in Astarion's tent.  

Last night had been… unusual. Something you said had soured the mood for anything sexual. Instead you stayed up talking late into the night. You hadn't even taken your clothes off.  

You'd never spent the whole night together before, always opting to make your way back to your respective tents eventually, after your nocturnal activities, but then again you’d spent those previous nights opening your legs more so than your heart. Something had now shifted a little.  

The last thing you remembered was drifting off with your face nuzzled into his neck as he draped an arm over you, having hugged him on a whim and finding yourself not wanting to let go. What you saw now was completely contrary to that memory, as you found yourself lying on your side, with Astarion's head pressed against your chest, right over your heart, both arms holding you close. He must have moved himself while you were asleep. 

He looked perfectly at peace. It was actually adorable, seeing the prickly rogue like this.  

You reached out to softly run your hand over his disarrayed curls, when he also stirred. 

“Hello, darling,” you purred, copying his habitual greeting for you. 

Astarion was startled, suddenly jolting up. He seemed momentarily disoriented, taking in you and his surroundings for a few moments before comprehension returned to his eyes.  

“Are you alright..?” you asked. “I know it's first thing in the morning, but surely I don't look that disturbing.” 

“Yes, sorry… I just… I can’t remember the last time I woke up next to someone,” he said finally. 

“The night at the clearing..?” you offered. 

“I didn’t sleep that night,” he admitted. “And now there's a woman in my tent and I don't know what to do. ...Ahah..! Refresh my memory, what is the protocol? Do I need to make you breakfast?” he joked. 

“I’m sure Gale’s already working on that,” you grinned. 

Astarion laid back down next to you, propped up on an elbow. He gave you an odd half-smile with a slight frown, his eyes narrowed. Not unkindly, but rather a bit… awkwardly. You wondered what he was thinking. 

You ignored the odd look, and instead your eyes wandered up to survey his bedhead. No trace of pomade was left in his hair, instead some of it was standing on end, while other, longer strands started to fall over his eyes as he leaned on his hand, watching you.  

“What is going on here..?” you laughed, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. He leaned into your hand as you ran your fingers through his hair, shutting his eyes, his lips widening into a genuine smile. He reminded you of a cat that was enjoying a head scratch.  

“I don't have the slightest idea, darling,” he drawled. “But I guess you have to die after all, now that you've seen it.” 

“You are a horrible flirt, you know, and I don't mean that in a good way." 

“It works on you, doesn't it?” he shrugged, grinning and leaning in for a kiss.  

“Hmm, but returning to breakfast,” you said, breaking the kiss as his lips slowly made their way down to your neck. “What about you? Fancy a nibble?” 

“If it's on offer…” Astarion purred, continuing his way down. He knew your body entirely too well at this point. His lips lingered on the exact spot that made your breath shudder, sending a wave of shivers all through you. “Where..?” 

“Right there,” you breathed.  

“Oh? You want me to leave my mark on you, right where everyone can see..?” he murmured, continuing to kiss your neck. You usually offered him your wrist.  

“It’s not like they don’t already know what we’ve been doing, so sure, mark me...” you replied. “Mark me as yours,” you added in a hoarse whisper.  

Once the words were out you wondered if it was too much, but Astarion clearly liked the idea. He liked it a lot, judging by the soft growl he let out, as he continued to trail his lips along your neck, searching for just the right spot. You knew he'd found it, you remembered where he's bitten you before, but instead of going in for a bite he toyed with you, leaving slow, deliberate licks, until you released a small moan, and only then sank his fangs in you, lightly grinding his hips into yours as he did.  

Something about a vampire's bite made it quite unlike anything else. It started off as a sharp, icy chill, gradually spreading and melting into something that stung the way an itch strings right before you scratch it, multiplied tenfold. The only way to relieve that stinging sensation was to give into it, more and more. The area bitten remained tender and sensitive in the most erogenous way for a long time after the bite itself. The whole experience was inherently erotic, no matter where the bite was. 

You understood why this was fetishised. You also understood how people happily allowed themselves to be bled dry.  

Astarion continued to grind against you, slowly, his erection evident. This was nothing new and didn't necessarily mean anything - you’ve joked before that any blood he drank went straight to his dick before going anywhere else – which is why you usually did this privately, even when he drank from your wrist.  

However, this time, you really didn't want it to just be casual. You didn't think he did either, the way he was breathing. One of your hands was caught in his hair at the back of his head, the other trailed down to his hips, squeezing, as he grinded into you harder, making you crave more.  

And then it was over and you felt a profound sense of disappointment and loss, as Astarion gave your neck a few final licks and broke away from you, lifting his body from yours. The only contact that remained between you two was your eyes, as he gave you an unwavering look of barely contained lust.  

The aching need between your legs had become unbearable.  

One heartbeat... Two... Three... 

Astarion’s lips crashed into yours.  

Suddenly, without a single word, you found yourselves tearing at each other’s pants in an urgent rush to remove them.  

Curse them, you thought. You would start sleeping in a nightgown, if you managed to find one. Or naked. Or steal Astarion’s shirt. 

You thought you recognised some elvish curses as Astarion snarled, struggling to pull your pants off without lifting his body from you, biting your lip as you managed to twist and free one leg, the other pant leg left danging at your knee. 

All the while, you’d been tearing at the lacing on Astarion’s pants, managing to undo it just enough to slide them low enough to release his pulsing cock. 

You didn’t even bother with your shirts. You had a burning, ravenous hunger, and it had to be sated. Immediately.  

You tugged on Astarion’s cock, impatiently guiding it towards your throbbing pussy. You had no time or eagerness or wish for any teasing or foreplay, only a carnal, animalistic need. You’d barely aligned Astarion’s dick with your entrance when he plunged himself into you, fully, with another swear through gritted teeth.  

Finally, you felt complete.  

There was no rhythm, decency or finesse to what followed, the only way you could describe it was mindless, feral rutting. You dug your fingers into his hips, trying to bring him closer, deeper, moaning as his tongue writhed against yours. He couldn’t be close enough - even had you melded into one you would still want more of him. 

You spread your legs wide, angling your hips so his body hit your exposed clit with every thrust, and bucked into him, desperately. He changed his thrusts to a more rolling motion, rubbing into you.  

“Yes... Like that...” you barely managed. 

There was a commotion, a loud clanking, crashing sound and some yelling outside. 

“Astarion!” you heard Wyll’s voice just outside the tent, shortly after.  

"Fuck,” Astarion growled under his breath. “Three minutes!” he shouted. 

Three minutes? Then again, you didn’t think you were going to last even another minute. 

Astarion covered your mouth with his hand as his hips continued to relentlessly grind you into the floor of his tent. Your whimpers grew more drawn out until your body stilled before breaking into tremors emanating from your hips, as he continued to fuck you. You were holding on to his back for dear life, bringing your legs up to wrap tightly around his hips, moaning into his hand as you came. 

Immediately, he changed his rolling thrusts to something frantic, grabbing your hand and bringing it over your head, and catching your knee at his elbow and bringing it up with his other arm. He buried his face in your neck, moaning, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, until he slammed his hips into you with a final groan, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. 

“Astarion! This is urgent!” you heard Wyll again.  

“He’s coming!” you yelled, exasperated, before you realised what you’d said.  

Your words were greeted with a momentary silence, then the sound of Karlach laughing somewhat off in the distance.  

Astarion was also laughing into your neck, his shoulders shaking even as he delivered his final thrusts. 

“That was-” he panted between laughter, “the sloppiest... most unimaginative... objectively worst sex I've ever had.” 

“And subjectively..?” you asked, also starting to laugh as you came off the sudden high that had overtaken you.  

“I wouldn’t mind waking up to something like that every day for the rest of my life,” he said, lifting his head and looking at you. 

“That can be arranged,” you purred. 

There was that little frown again, as he cocked an eyebrow at you.  

“We could always die today,” you shrugged. 

“Funny...” he said. “Anyway... Good luck with this giant mess I left between your legs. I better go see what is so godsdamn important.” 

Bonus scene: 

“What do you mean, I’m the only adult here that knows how to manage a needle and thread?! And how do you even rip a bag of holding..?!” 

“Astarion, our fate is in your hands.” 

“No, you can carry your own shit from here on. I’m fine with just my weapons and the clothes on my back.” 

“We need you, Astarion!” 

“At least get rid of all the junk, what do we need a dozen goblin scimitars for, they’re not even worth anything!” 

“Save us, Astarion!” 

“Rotten carrots, rusty tongs... Is that literally just a rock?” 

“Save us, 239-year-old vampire that can sew!”  

Sigh... Astarion observed the torn bag with a resigned look.  

“...Would you mind mending Clive as well, while you’ve got the kit out..? He’s been through hell and back. And looks it.” 

“Yes, Karlach, I’ll fix up your teddy bear too...” 

~~~~~ 

Mark me as yours - fic re the following day

I have a whole series with these two, check it out

AO3

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 🩹 [ Patches ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : After the fight he had with Antonius, you were there to patch him up.

Pairing : Telemachus x fem! Reader

Word count : 1.2K Words

Genre : Fluff

Warnings ➵ Telemachus is hurt

a/n : I love this guy sm and omg I can't wait to write more for this silly lil guy T T♡

Also I feel like this isn't m, best work sadly, I just didn't really know how to write this, that's also why it's shorter, but imma defi write a longer one for him again!

Artwork Credits : Gigi on YouTube

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Athena turns around, sensing someone approaching the chambers of the prince, sitting on the railing in her owl form in an instant.

"My prince? I've been so worried! Your mother is so mad at the suitors! And by the gods look at you! What have those monsters done!" Rushing over to the young man, your hands find their way to his cheeks, holding his face softly in your hands. "I-I'm fine! Don't worry! Just some scratches!" He tried to assure you, looking over to Athena, who just gave him one last look before flying away, leaving him to your mercy. "My prince those aren't just scratches! The queen will be even more angry when she sees this!" Telemachus's face was littered with wounds, blood at the corner of his lips, scratches on his face, and a big one on his eyebrow. "Let me patch you up please, I don't want this to get infected." You softly grab his hand as you lead him to his vanity and sit him down, before gathering everything you need to clean his wounds.

Telemachus simply watches you with a rosy blush on his cheeks, would his mother see him right now she'd start preparing a wedding already. She was counting on you to become his fiance, having known you and your parents for years. You were born in the palace to your father, a warrior, he was away with the king for a long time now, probably dead, while your mother was the closest and most confidante maid she had. So you grew up in the palace, learning the ways to serve, and soon became the maid to the prince. He was barely two years older than you; in the last years, he had grown so much that he was now towering over you.

"This looks bad, my prince; how dare they hurt you like that.." You grumble as you wet cloth and softly clean the dried-up blood, holding his chin with your other hand carefully. Telemachus was watching you the whole time while doing so, admiring your scrunched up eyebrow and nose, concentrated eyes, and how your tongue slightly pokes out from the concentration.

"I'm fine don't w-worry! It's just a scratch!" He tries to assure you, but you just scoff at that; of course, he would say that. Wanting to argue back, you couldn't as a knock echoes through the room, straightening your back as the queen walks in. Bowing slightly you greet her respectfully, your own mother closed behind her. "M-Mother!" Her face was stern as she approached her son. "What happened?" Telemachus was obviously nervous to answer her, knowing very well she hates when he gets hurt, on top of the suitors being the cause of this. "They provoked me. I had to fight back!" Penelope looks at him, disappointed, shaking her head slightly. "You shouldn't have my son, look at your face; that will leave a nasty scar. What would your father say." Her hands were softly on his shoulders as her words enraged him. "He would be proud! Proud that I try to protect my house and mother!" Pulling back from her, he turns his back to her frustrated.

The queen lets out a sigh, looking over at you with thankful eyes for being with him right now and patching him up before she turns around and leaves, your mother also giving you one last look.

"My prince I need to finish cleaning your wounds." He's stood with his back to you, looking at the picture on his nightstand, an old picture; you weren't even born when this was made; he was merely an infant in the arms of his mother, the king, his father beside them. "He wouldn't want you to keep hurting. Let me finish, please." Softly, your hand lays on his arm as he shakes his head, frustrated.

Guiding him to sit down on his bed's edge now, you crouch down to sit in front of him on the floor after getting the utensils you need to clean the wounds. Grasping his hands softly to clean the knuckles that were bruised and bloodied from landing a few good punches on Antinous. "Why..? Why can't I be like my dad? He was amazing.. She would've never scolded him for fighting for her.." You noticed tears gathering in his beautiful eyes. "Oh dear, you're her only son; she is worried. You're just as great as your father, and someday you will see that too, my prince.." Tears fall from his eyes as your hand reaches up to carefully wipe the tears away.

You finish cleaning his knuckles before going to clean up everything you had used. Glancing over to Telemachus again to see his face in his hands, form crouched over and small. "Telemachus.. Don't beat yourself up so much.. Please.." Taking a seat beside him, you didn't treat him as your prince and weren't sitting down as his maid but as his childhood friend. You know you were crossing some lines; you were a servant, and you shouldn't stay longer in his chambers, let alone sit beside him on his bed. "You're an amazing person, remember that time we were kids? When I got bullied by some of the royal girls visiting? I wasn't able to defend myself because I am a mere servant; you stood up for me, telling them off, telling them how much more royal my personality was than their ugly ones." He slowly looks up at you, red and puffy eyes looking into your own. "So start thinking better of yourself alright?" Hand moving to rest on his damp cheeks, his face softly nuzzling against your hand, eyes closed.

"Thank you.." The words softly leave his mouth, before opening his eyes again to look at you. "Of course.. come here.." Opening your arms, he eased into your embrace, his own arms around your waist as his head came to rest on your shoulder. You know this was something he needed right now, a soft embrace to assure him everything was fine. "You're fine.." One hand is softly rubbing over his back, while the other one softly pats over his brown hair.

"I am.. Thanks to you." He leaves your embrace now with a smile. "I'll grow stronger for my family and you!" He has a grin on his lips now as he announces he will grow stronger. Looking over to his balcony now, you follow his gaze, gasping softly. "Woah.. An owl.. And such a pretty one at that too.." You smiled; the owl looked pretty, a light brown with a white spot, and the ends of her feathers looked like they shimmer gold in the sun. Telemachus, though, was shocked that Athena would show herself that easily and even speak to him in his head. 'I like that one, court her.' Before flying away, make you run onto the balcony to watch the owl fly away.

Telemachus quickly follows you as he watches Athena fly away, a bright red hue on his face from her words. "Oh my, you're so red! Do you have a fever?" Looking at him worried and before your hand could meet his forehead to check his temperature, he runs away laughing, yelling how his training should start now and he needs to get stronger, making you giggle and follow him, Argos quickly joining you two.

[rosenclaws]

Lost || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You risk your life on missions when you shouldn't. Logan can't stand it. He thinks it's because you want to play hero. It isn't until something shifts that he realizes there's more to it. That the two of you are more alike than ever.

warnings: Suicidal ideation, implied Self harm (scratching), depressive thoughts and feelings, self hatred manifesting in different ways, mostly the reader is very mean to themselves, the reader is having a mental spiral basically, poor eating, angst, injuries, hopeful ending.

wc: 3.3k

a/n: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! This fic contains very triggering topics and if you think that reading or being exposed to them will hurt you please DO NOT READ. I value peoples well being over this fic 1000%. If I'm being honest this was my own kind of therapy. The way I wrote the reader's thought process and feelings is a lot like my own. I've been going through it a little and I just needed to get something out. I would also like to disclaimer that I am okay! Please take care of yourself first and be gentle to yourself. If you need someone to talk to my dms and inbox are open or please consider reaching out to someone

Things worked like clockwork around here. The kid would go to class. Do their homework. Play outside. The adults would be training or teaching. Dinner was at the same time every night. Occasionally the team would get sent on a mission and even then things worked like they normally did.

Scott led the team with a plan, Logan usually ignored that plan, Ro got between them when their childish bickering got to be too much, and you all got home just fine.

"Again?" Beast is shaking his head as you hobble into the lab again. A pained smile on your face as Scott helps you onto the cold metal table. 

"What can I say beastie, I just love your company." You groan as he gently touches your side. A sharp pain shoots through your body and dark spots cloud your vision.

 "Broken ribs, definitely." He mutters as he writes something down. He asks you to follow his finger and you do your best. 

"Concussion. Again." You wince as his tone grows harsher.

 "Superficial cuts and bruises." The list goes on and on as you're examined.

"Can you just prescribe me some pain meds and let go? That's what we did last time." You ask and he just looks at you like a disappointed parent.

 "We did that last time and the time before that and the time before that. This is your third concussion and I can't even remember how many broken ribs." You feel like a child as he starts lecturing you on safety and the dangers of missions and blah blah blah.

Look you get that this isn't great but you're an X-Man right? They help people by any means even when the world seems to hate them. So you're helping people by putting yourself in harms way. Even your teammates.

 "I really don't understand why you continue to do this to yourself." Beast injects something into your arm and you flinch.

 "Fuck! A little warning next time please." You rub your arm and close your eyes as the exhaustion is starting to catch up to you. 

"No missions for at least three months." He says to Scott who you forgot was still there. 

"What!" You shoot up and double over in pain from your ribs.

 "Come on, you can't bench me for three months." You whine as you look at Scott. 

"Our top priority is that you're safe and healthy firefly." Scott says and you scoff. 

"No our top priority is helping people." He sighs and pats you on the shoulder. Great, is this another scolding? Beasts was like a parent but Scott was always more brotherly than anything.

 "Firefly, We understand the want to help but you can't help people if you keep getting hurt. You throw yourself into danger without even thinking about it." 

"So does Logan!" You protest but you know the argument is futile.

 "Logan has rapid healing factor. You don't. Look, just take the three months okay? Please? We worry about you." Scott says with such sincerity it makes you feel a little bad. 

"Okay fine." You mumble in agreement. Satisfied with your answer Scott leaves, letting Hank patch you up. You're silent as you think back to the mission.

It was dangerous. You weren't dealing with low level grunts or something. These people were deadly. They weren't going to spare anyone. Rogue and Jubilee joined the mission and as much as you loved them they weren't ready. The fight was getting messier and exhaustion was kicking in.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jubilee and Rogue barely fighting off their attackers. Without thinking you jump in to help them. The calls to retreat came and you saw Logan come help the three of you. His claws sliced his way through. 

"Get back to the ship!" He growled as he took down yet another man. Everyone else was safe except for the four of you. 

"Go, I'll be right behind you!" You yell over your shoulder.

You put up a wall to block the bullets as you walk back. In your head you know how this plays out. You get on the ship and they shoot it down, killing you all. Or you don't make it. Or a million other ways it can go wrong. As Logan grabs Jubilee and Rouge and pulls them onto the ship he holds his hand out to you.

 "We need to go!" Without thinking you take down you start to build energy in your hands. The wall wavers as the bullets continue. 

"Quit fucking around and get in here!" Logan roars. Sorry Logan, you tend to ignore him anyways on missions. Which is how you tend to get hurt but you always end up okay. 

"I got this!" You can hear Logan's angry shouting as the plane door closes. They had no choice but to listen to you. A bullet pierces your wall and rips through your side. You let out a cry as your knee buckles. Sweat pours down your face as you gather every last bit of your energy into your hands.

 "Eat shit." You snarl as you make eye contact with who you assume was the leader.

You release the energy and it blasts through everyone and everything around you. The ship is safe due to protective measures but you aren't. The blowback slams you into the hard jet doors. A sickening crunch as your body hits the cold metal. Your vision becomes hazy as you hit the ground hard. Spots dancing in your vision as you crawl away from the jet.

Everything fucking hurt. You vaguely hear the doors opening again and the hands-on your face. Someone's talking to you but you don't register a thing they say. Which landed you back in the lab. Right now getting patched up.

"Thanks Hank." You say as you hop off the table. You decline any help getting to your room and awkwardly walk to the doors. To your surprise, Logan stands right outside of them. Arms crossed a really pissed off look on his face. 

"Logan, always a pleasure." You flash a smile and he rolls his eyes. He stalks after you as you walk slowly to the elevator. 

"Did Charles send you to check up on me or something because I'm really not in the mood." 

"What the fuck were you thinking?" He snarls. He slams his hand on a button and the elevator stops.

 "Logan I really want to go to bed." You groan as you try to push past him but to no avail. It was like a brick wall.

 "No, you're going to shut up and listen. I don't know what compels you to be so incredibly stupid but you need to fucking quit it." You shrink under his harsh words.

 "I've seen people like you before, always trying to play hero. You're reckless. Putting yourself into danger so you can be the one to save the day." You let him rip into you. Not speaking a word he slams his hand on the button and the elevator moves again.

 "Nothing to say?" He rolls his eyes and storms out of the elevator. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper to no one as the elevator doors close on you.

No one sees you for a while. You stay locked up in your room. Not even coming out for food. Every day some student brings food to your door and leaves it there. You wonder who told them to do that. Jean maybe, probably 'Ro. 

Sometimes you take it just so they don't worry but other times you leave it there until the next plate comes. You spend your day staring at the ceiling or sleeping. Sometimes though you're too tired to sleep. Does it make sense? No but it's how you feel. Logan's words replaying in your head.

If Beast and Scott were like family, Logan was something more. As much as you tried to hide it your feelings had changed, evolved from friendly into something more. You cared so much about what he thinks of you even when you don’t want to. You can’t help it. 

So his words cut deeper than anyone else's. You aren't trying to be a hero or take the glory. But maybe you are? Maybe you want that love and recognition from people, from him. Does it matter though? What your intentions were?

Apparently, you come across as an egotistical reckless person with a hero complex. It's not like that. You argue with yourself about it all the time. Shifting from hero to villain in an instant. You're selfish. You do it for attention. 

No wonder he thinks that way. Does everyone else think so too? But you care. You're an X-men but you aren't one of the X-men. You're not the one people think of when they come to save the day and you're okay with that. Your expendable. Better you than them. Right? You've hurt people in your past. You aren't worthy of this life. This family. You need to prove yourself. Sacrifice yourself if needed.

The spiral won't stop. It never. Stops. You can't get it to stop. You just want peace. Just one day where you don't wake up and feel guilt in everything you do. A loud knock on your door rings through your room but you don't move. 

"Hey." It's Logan. What is he doing here?

 "Look I uh, I shouldn't have snapped at you. The other day." You can tell he's struggling to get his thoughts out. Not that he didn't want to do it, he just didn't know how.

 "I was angry." He waits a few moments and you hear a frustrated growl. 

"Come on firefly, you've been holed up here long enough." You roll onto your side to face the door. Looking at his shoes through the small crack in the bottom. He's pacing.

 "Seriously I-er We're getting worried alright?" You don't catch the slip of his tongue. Too wrapped up feeling guilty. Again. Guilty for hurting your team, for not understanding what was wrong with you. Guilty for even feeling this way in the first place. 

"I thought you should know that Remy's making your favorite dinner." You hear him sigh and walk away. More guilt creeps up on you. You're making everyone worry about you.

 You're being selfish, just pull it together. Beating yourself up over and over again. As the sun goes down the smell of dinner wafts through your room. It doesn't normally do that so you suspect someone is trying to lure you out. Enough of this.

You get up and change your clothes. You stop and look in the mirror, trying to put on your best smile. You don't look very convincing but it should be fine. Peeking your head out you hear a lot of voices coming from the kitchen. You quietly walk into the doorway.

It takes a second but someone notices you and then everyone does. The talking dies down as they just stare at you. It's really uncomfortable. You feel terrible for making them worry. You don't deserve to be worried about like this.

 "All this for me?" You joke and thankfully the room grows louder again.

You say hi to some of the people who come up to you. A plate is placed in front of you and you graciously accept it. Looking across the room you can see Logan staring at you. He's silent but watching your every move. 

"So how's recovery coming? You've been taking bed rest pretty seriously." Scott says with a smile.

You know he doesn't mean anything by it but for some reason, it stings. Like you've been lazy or something. You're a mutant. Recovery shouldn't take this long. You're not putting in the work. You're wasting your time. You don't get to rest. 

"Hey? Firefly?" You snap out of it and put on a smile.

 "Going great, it's nice being able to sleep without interruption." People seem to accept that answer and the conversation moves on.

You pick at your food, moving it around your plate and chopping it up but never putting it in your mouth. It's your favorite meal but you just, can't bring yourself to eat it right now.

The room is so full of talking and laughter but for some reason, you feel a million years away. Like you're lonely. Really, really lonely. How can that even be? To feel so alone while being surrounded by so many people. 

As dinner wraps up you quietly slip out. Sneaking out to the gardens instead. It's cold and you have no coat but you don't care. Some fresh air is what you need. Maybe the trees can tell you what's wrong with you. You find a small bench and sit down.

The stars shine so nicely tonight. You wonder what it'd be like to be a star. If it's freeing to be up so high. Or is it lonely? To lack the warmth of the sun and be a million light years away from each other. 

"What are you doing out here?" Logan stands in front of you. You hadn't even noticed him. 

"Nothing." He lights a cigar and takes a seat next to you. His legs spread out, knocking his knees into yours. 

"So you wanna tell me what's going on?" 

"What are you talking about?" You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hide away. 

"You may have fooled everyone else but I know somethings going on in that head of yours." You just shrug. 

"I'm fine."

"Bullshit." Logan scoffs. You watch the soft glow of cigar ash tumble to the ground.

The light dies out as it hits the cold cement. He wants to help, or at least he wants to listen. For some reason, you can't get the words you. Anger replaces any rational thought. You want him to leave, to not care so damn much.

"Why do you even care? Last time I checked you don't do these heart to hearts." You snap.

The cold air bites your face and you shiver. Your nails scratch down your arms harshly. The slight stinging soothes you in some fucked up way. Logan notices and grabs onto your hand. Taking it and holding it in his warm one. 

"Just leave me alone Logan." You try taking your hand away but he won't let you.

"No. You're right I don't do the sappy shit but this is different. It's more than you're letting on." You feel a pit forming in your stomach.

Everything in your body screams for you to run. To hide and put up your walls and ignore this ever happened. But then you look into his pretty hazel eyes. The rough and tough Wolverine was silently begging you to stay. To talk to him. 

"I don't try to be a hero, It's not a hero complex, or a savior complex or whatever you want to call it." His thumb rubs over your hand as you talk. He wants to butt in but he lets you talk.

 "I don't know. It's a lot. What goes on in my head." You start to count the blades of grass that you can see. Anything to keep you from breaking down. 

"I don't care if I get hurt if I'm helping people. I just. It's how I help. My life is worth saving people. Saving you guys. I don't care if..." You trail off. You can't get the words right.

 "You don't care if you die." Logan finishes. He swallows harshly. It breaks his heart to hear but that small part of him understands. More than you’ll ever know. 

 "Kind of. It's complicated alright? I'm not actively trying to die but...Look I don't think I deserve this life sometimes. I've caused a lot of hurt and I've lost so many people." Logan reaches up and wipes away a tear.

There's a lot of pain that sits with a lifetime of trauma. Pain that you've chosen to ignore over and over again. Burying it until you've convinced yourself this is what life is like. What you deserve. 

"It's stupid right? There's so much that I should be grateful for. What right do I have to complain about?"

 "You're a mutant, your life hasn't been easy." 

"Yeah I guess." Logan doesn't let go of your hand. He holds it, squeezes it. Its warm and fits perfectly with yours. 

"Life sucks, a lot. Trust me I understand. It's like the days blend together right? There's this massive hole that just seems to get bigger. You can stuff it with things, try and close it up or even pretend it never exists. But it never goes away." Logan says.

He understands because he feels the same way. Maybe not exactly how you feel but he knows what its like. To have this, hatred for yourself grow and fester until you can't breathe. You convince yourself that nothings going to change so why even bother? 

"I just want it to go away." You whisper sadly. 

"It will, we're tough. We survive."

"What if I'm tired of surviving? What if I don't want to be strong anymore?" You confess. You feel like you have to be strong all the time and it weighs you down like bricks. You're drowning. 

"That's okay, you come to me and I'll carry what you can't." He pulls you in closer and you bury your face in his neck. He's warm, protecting you from the chill.

 "Just please, promise me no more heroics on missions okay?" He mumbles. 

You scared the shit out of him. You were bleeding and in so much pain. You couldn't even register that it was his hands on your face. That he carried you to the jet and held you while you went in and out of consciousness. He stayed by your side until you got back. He disappeared to the background as Scott took you to the lab. His worry and fear of losing you turning to anger. Wondering why you continue to put yourself in danger.

 "Okay." You lean in and press a light kiss to his cheek.

"Logan, Can I ask why you're out here? How did you even notice something was wrong?" It's not that you weren't friends, in fact you were closer than most. But Logan isn't really the best with this kind of thing. Yet somehow, he always knows what to say.

"You mean a lot to me firefly..."

He could tell you that he loves you right here and now. Tell you that you're everything to him. How he's fallen in love with you over the years. But he keeps it inside. It's not the right time. Sometimes love isn't enough to get better and he knows that there's work to be done. He doesn't want to put this pressure on you to get better for him. He wants you to get better for yourself. He'll be by your side for the whole thing though. He won't let you spiral as long as he's there. 

"You mean a lot to me too Logan." You smile, a real one this time. He caresses your face, tilting your head as his lips kiss your forehead. You giggle as beard tickles your skin.

 "There's that sweet sound," He hums. He takes off his jacket and places it on your shoulders. The worn leather smells like him.

 "You really think things get better?" You ask as you link your hand with his. He doesn't answer right away. He'd be a hypocrite to preach that everything's fine and dandy all the time. Sometimes he doesn't believe it himself. But he keeps going, every day. Just as you do. 

"Yeah I do, I don't know when. But someday it will." You nod and rest your head on his shoulder. It might take a long time until you truly feel better but you can keep going. Waking up and living.

With a hope, no a belief, that someday. It will get better. 

[dilf-docs]

Saturday But in Your Sunday Best

bfd!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel has a co-worker's wedding in las vegas. everything that can go wrong, does.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., creampie, oral (f. and m. receiving), breast play, fingering, dacryphilia, degradation kink, ANGST (as in i've suffered so will my characters. this wasn't at all what i had envisioned at first for this part), hurt/comfort, a bit of fluff (that's new), pls be nice this writer's block shot me in the foot

word count: 11,121 words

side note: sorry this took so long. between movie watching for the oscars, my other works, midterms, pedro pascal horny hours, my wattpad fic, the max fic you citizens let flop (ĉüřşę ÿoụ āĺļ), the brat taming fic that made numbers among my oomfs on twitter, a very shitty date (the situational irony of letting a man ruin my women's day) a ptwt fic gc in twitter (love u frens), and uni again, i let the ttdik series collect dust, my bad. as compensation, take this girthy chapter altho it makes me kinda insecure IDK. this is why i don't do series okay!! i'm my worst enemy and i fear procrastination is a chronical disease of mine atp

part: prev | masterlist | next

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas

His foot taps anxiously against the marble floor, sound drowned by the bustling crowd.

People come and go. Some hug, others cry. And Joel? Well, he's just waiting for you to come.

He checks his watch, the one Sarah gifted him, and sighs. Should've known better.

It's been two months since the pregnancy scare, and ever since then, you have put a bit of a distance between yourselves.

It was slow, gradual: first the excuses then nights were you wouldn't stay or ask him to. And, even if your affair was that, just an affair, he missed sleeping in the warmth of your embrace. He also missed the way your nose would crinkle when you laughed. You didn't laugh that often anymore, and if you did, it sounded like you were holding in: as if you were afraid to let loose and let him see through you. And to be honest, it was killing him.

So when he reached out to you for this, he should've expected for you to say no. That you wouldn't show up after that I'll see if I'm free text: no, Joel Miller simply shouldn't have harbored that much hope for his daughter's bestfriend he happened to be banging.

If he hadn't confirmed his invitation, he'd probably gone home and layed down. Watch some garbage TV with Sarah and some beer in hand, but here he was, like a lonely loser, luggage in hand.

(Sarah helped him pack. He didn't even know what to wear to a wedding, and then she showed up with his old suit-- that still fit, somehow, albeit a bit more tight, from the dry cleaning. Joel would be lost without her)

The speaker announces his flight is about to leave. Joel gets up, trying not to be dissappointed about the whole thing. He's got no right to, after all.

"Joel?"

He'd end up breaking his neck by how fast he turned.

There you are, and it's like the weight he wasn't aware of, settling on his chest, had been removed.

"You made it" is the first thing that makes it out of his lips.

You softly laugh, "Hello, Joel"

He gets closer to you, slowly, like if he where to do it faster, he'd scare you off. Or you'd be gone, as if a dream.

(It'd be a nightmare, though, because you wouldn't be here)

"Sorry. I-" he cuts off, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. There's some tension lingering in the air, the same when you left his house a week ago. Joel had been too much of a coward to invite you then, rather hiding behind a screen.

But now you were here.

"I didn't think you'd come" he says after a beat of silence.

You tilt your head to the side, eyebrow up as if you hadn't been acting weird at all.

"Why wouldn't I?"

(Because it seems like being in the same room as me tires you. That your eyes don't shine anymore, and the starry sky looks like a storm when you dare search my gaze as we fuck. Every time you breath, its like breathing the same air as me burns)

He rather not press, so instead, he says:

"I'm jus' glad ya' came. 'S all"

You nod, not adding anything at all. Then, both you walk to your gate, side by side in silence, the same that had seemed to seep inside your romance for the past weeks.

Well, romance was definitely a stretch. An affair seemed more like it.

Of course, you're aware the change it's on you. It would've been dumb of you to think Joel wouldn't notice your withdrawal, or how more often than not you'd be stuck in your head. But still, he didn't comment on it, and like you, danced around the subject, afraid for different reasons as yours. Or the same. Yet, you'll never know. No, you're aware you both are too stubborn, and that whatever it started on that day, had settled in between like a burning flame.

(Had you been engulfed by the fire yet?)

You try not to think about it. After all, you had the option not to come. But a weekend away in Las Vegas after midterms? Too tempting to let go.

(And it's not like images of a stood up Joel in the airport, looking miserable, had made you restless the last couple of days after his text)

"Ya' can take the window" he says, even if it's his seat.

He knows you're nervous about flying, a little detail that came up during a post-sex small talk.

(What're you're dreams? Joel asked. You had answered that you'd love to travel the world after graduating, but that you had a fear for flying, despite having only done it once. It may have been because the first time you did, it was to fly for your grandma's funeral. Perhaps it was by association then, that the bad feelings about boarding a plane could be related to that)

"Thanks" you mumble, sitting down. You're avoiding his gaze, but know he's looking at you.

"What?" a little harsher than intended.

He looks taken back, looking at his lap as he let's out a soft whisper, sheepishly:

"Nothin'. Jus' thinkin' you look pretty today"

A light blush creeps up your cheeks as you huff out a Whatever.

Joel let's a breath of relief out his tight chest and allows himself to smile.

(At least, he's still got an effect on you)

The wedding Joel was supposed to attend is in the Ángel De La Guarda cathedral. You'd be staying nearby, at a hotel room Joel's coworker had paid for, the same where the reception would take place.

Being in the same room as Joel one night should be the least of your worries, but then the space is even smaller than it was supposed to (given by Joel's cursing as he paced around, anxiously), and the strain of your relationship settles in the air, physically so, tight around your throat.

Then, it's the bed issue: there's only one. It's not like you haven't slept in the same bed before, obviously, but there's a certain dread deep in your stomach about sharing the enclosed space when you're at your most vulnerable. He moves around a lot during night, and something tells you you'd wake up to his strong arms and hot breath fanning over your neck, hairs rising at the proximity, making it harded to calm your heart.

"You okay?" he's asking, dropping the bags in a corner.

"At what time is the wedding?" you ask.

He checks his watch. "In about seven hours"

The glass bounces a ray right into your face, and you have to close your eyes at yet nother reminder of why this is all so wrong.

Sarah.

"We should rest..." he says, plopping on the bed. His plaid t-shirt rises up at the same time the color of your cheeks does, when the glimpse of soft tanned skin reveals itself. He looks up to your stiff standing figure, bulk arms behind his neck as he rests his head on his biceps. "Don't 'cha think?"

Lay with me. Not outloud.

"No" you say, hastily so, not missing the way a flicker of dull akin to the pain of rejection finds its way to his brown eyes. "I..." your voice softens. "I'd rather take a tour of the place, you know? It's not like I'll come every weekend here"

He's about to raise up. I'm coming with you, again not out loud, in case you'd reject his offering again.

Which you do.

"I'm fine" you say, grabbing your purse. "Just... I need a moment"

Away from you.

"Suit yourself" but there's a sharp edge on his apparent kindness.

Closing the door behind you, it takes all of you to not turn around and see his face one last time.

You wander off through the bright lights and noisy hallways, walking until the sun of the outdoors filters a ray over the carpet through the glass doors. Strides take you to the pool area, kids giggling, parents sunbathing and youngsters chilling.

You sigh, dipping your feet in the pool, chlorine up your nose and water baterly grazing your sundress.

But you're drowning.

Drowning on his presence, every room he's in now smaller. Walls of the room collapsing, as the ones of your lungs, every breath tight if your nose catches a whiff of his scent lingering in the air. You'd wash the sheets almost immediately, crying when your head hit the pillow and it smelled like lavender and not Joel.

It was the only right choice: to erase him out of your life, because with every new kiss and thrust, he'd take another part of you with him, and you don't know how much more you can give of yourself without dying. A part of you dies every time he walks out the door, anxious heart pondering when will he walk out for good. When he'll realize the thrill is gone, that your escapades were all but a product of his crisis, and what started as a mutual use of bodies, ends in the waste of your heart.

Joel has become a drug for you: knowing it's destructive, but the high so addictive, you don't mind the crash. It's unevitable, and a small treacherous voice in the back of your head says you're just postponing a foretold death.

Yet Joel Miller makes you feel alive. Alive as a spring, grassbed full of blooming flowers. As sun carressing your skin: if you stay too long, the warm becoming burning.

A kid walks up to your sad lonely pensive corner, splashing water onto you.

"Hey!" but he's gone, and it's Vegas, so his parents are three mojitos down from the open bar, asleep under the sun. You curse, getting up and back to your room to change.

When you get to your room, is eerily quiet. And dark, the curtains closed.

You rumage through your suitcase, pulling out a change. The dress slips off, falling to the carpet with a pathetic drowned sound. You're about to change into the t-shirt when the lights flicker.

"You back?"

You scream, trying to cover yourself.

"Woah!" Joel covers his eyes, both your reactions ironically funny. Your cheeks burn as you finish dressing yourself up, and if he takes a small peak between his fingers, well, you'll never know. "Jesus, doll. If ya' wanted it so bad, could've asked"

Something akin to anger and deception morph into a burning flame in the pit of your stomach. Even after all this months, after this imminent fight, Joel can't bring himself to ask, dancing around the fragile line that barely holds on with the clap of skin against skin and sweat, as to replace the tears that will never see the light of the day.

"Right, because that's all I want"

He raises an eyebrow at your tone. "S' a joke"

"Jokes are supposed to make people laugh"

He shoots you a look, before standing from the bed.

"What's gotten into ya'?"

He walks closer, yet you give him your back, tossing the sundress with too much force in your bag.

"Don't know what you're talking about" as nonchalant as you can muster.

"Look at me" you keep the harsh packing going on. Joel grows impatient at your confusing demeanor, not just from today, but days ago. He's had enough. He spins you around, losing his cool as he shouts. "Damn it, y/n, stop actin' like a brat!"

"Don't touch me!" you yell back, pulling away.

"So that's how's it now?" Joel lets out a scoff. "Y' get on ma' bed but the moment I put a finger in ya', y'act all coy and angry?"

"Right, 'cause I'm a slut. That's what sluts do: we get on lonely men's bed and fuck them"

He grabs the bridge of his nose, breathing heavily. His voice is laced with frustration, and you know it's your fault.

"Never said that"

Why not talk it like adults? No. Too much of a coward to do that.

"Jus' tell me, doll. What's goin' on?"

I think I love you, and I'm fucking scared.

His voice is soft, pleading. In your lifetime, you never thought you'd see Joel Miller beg. You did once, but it wasn't like this. Please, he'd say. Now, here he is, standing before you like the smallest man who ever lived and not the unstoppable force you made him out to be.

It should be easy. But words never come easy. Not to you. Neither love, so foreign it makes you shiver with fear. So natural, one day you opened your eyes to him laying next to you, Sarah staying in another city for a soccer tournament, and decided that was what you wanted. All his mornings. His bed voice, thick from sleep. His droopy eyes and tired smile, facil hair tickling your face as he says Good mornin', Southern drawl never more prominent, kisses in between. Let's get sum coffee after, because he always had to drink the bitter liquid out of his owl mug or wouldn't be able to make it through the day.

You want him to be the first thing you see when you open your eyes.

You want Joel Miller. Want. Want. Want.

"I hate you"

You have ruined me.

He probably expected anything but that, given his crestfallen face. Joel wishes for time to go back, at the beach. He'd say no, push you away. Fought a little harder. Never gotten into your bed.

The worst part is, he's a fucking liar: he'd probably still choose the same, even if the end is near.

"You ain't mean that" not knowing if he's trying to convince you or himself. "Jus' wanna hurt me"

You don't humor him with an answer.

"I shouldn't have come" is what you say instead, the bitter taste of defeat and hurt etched in your voice.

Would've been easier to stop when we should've.

His words run through the tense air like a bullet.

"I agree"

Weddings had always made you cry.

You weren't even a romantic, but the whole thing-- the promise of forever, it seemed to move your heart a bit.

So, if your eyes shimmer when the bride makes her entrance and the groom, Joel's co-worker, tears up, you feel your chest tight and stomach drop. It clenches with something akin to dread and want, as if suddenly, all that mattered to you was love. A year ago, if you told yourself-- the one who got on her knees to suck Joel's dick at the beach that night, that you'd be here?

You would've laughed.

Falling for the grumpy old man who also happens to be your bestfriend's dad?

Right. Imagine that.

Except there is nothing to imagine. All of it is real.

From his quiet laughter, the sound foreign and not frequent by the way it rasps against his throat. But now the wrinkles around his eyes are more prominent, forbidden laughs marking his blushing face. as he looks away, embarrassed. You can laugh, you had said, I won't tell anyone, yet he made you swore like the sight of Joel Miller laughing was the worst thing in the world. So had become the grey strands on his hair, more sprouting each time, as his damp curls twisted in your fingers.

It is also in the way his sweat that drops over your body as he tries hard to last longer, to his grunts that fill the room as he fills you to the brim with his warm cum. How his rough seems to meet every inch of your soft skin, like pieces of a puzzle.

Something clicks when you're with Joel, and you can't help but feel it's your fault this rift has been created, aggressively peeling the white off your nails as some form of anxious torture. But, he too, aside from his initial Just glad you came, hadn't said a word about it again. Even if he had noticed it all, before Vegas too. Nothing. And then Joel told you it was best if you didn't come. Fucking great.

You feel him tense next to you, body stiff when your arm accidentally brushes his when you stand up from the bench, making you roll your eyes.

The fallout had been awkward. The elevator ride took forever, and then the space on the cab felt too small. He took you to the back, on the benches near the exit, like he didn't want to be seen with you. It got you fuming: why bother to invite you at all?

In all truth, you could've picked up your bags and left after the fight, yet you stayed. You wonder who's more of a coward. In this weird dancing around you've got going on, walking in circles over the words Stay and Leave, like both are too delicate to say out loud. Even as the couple speak their vows, amid the claps and tears, your mind keeps drifting back to one question: Which would hurt less?

It's not until it ricochets on your arm that you realize the tears are also your own. You brush it fast, but by the corner of your eye, you know Joel notices. Still, he doesn't say anything, which contributes to your spite.

The ceremony is over, and just as you can feel the anticipation of the reception's drinks to buzz your nerves down, someone blocks you the exit. A couple, more like it.

Before fully registering their faces, Joel's hand flies to your back, pressed in a firm manner that oozes protectiveness. It makes your heart flutter, no matter how much you try to suffocate the treacherous butterflies in your stomach. You try not to think too much about it as you take them in: a man, looking in his middle forties, probably around the same age as Joel, so as the woman next to him, who smiles warmly. Not like the man, who seems unwelcoming.

"Joel" he pronounces his name, manners coming out cold. "It's nice to see you made it"

His grip on your back becomes more firm.

"Mark" he uses the same tone. "Well, when ya' confirm, y'gotta come"

"And who may this be?" Mark's wife asks, not thinking there's harm in her words. You swear you can hear him snicker next to her.

"She's-"

Joel stops midtrack. How is he supposed to even call you?

"I'm his girlfriend"

You don't know why you did that but you did. You also don't know why it causes you such satisfaction to see their wide eyes and Mark's disdain.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a girlfriend. How lovely!"

His cheeks go pink. "Thanks, Laura"

"Yes, Joel. Didn't think you'd move on" but his tone isn't like his wife's. "I just assumed that being with someone wasn't on your list anymore, you know, at your age. Especially one so... young"

Laura shots him a look.

Maybe it wasn't your place to get angry, not after how you've subjected Joel to your silent treatment this past months. Not after the fight you've just had hours ago. But he is also the same man who held your hand after you thought you were pregnant. He was the one who stayed. It is too how his shoulders slump, like he believes it to be true. You can't bear to see him sad, as contradictory as that may sound.

"Mark, right?"

The man nods, still sickly smiling.

"To me it sounds like you're jealous. Which is awful, because you've got a lovely wife" she looks away embarrassed while Mark fumes. "Also, when I turn around, try not to stare at my ass. I saw you when we arrived"

There's nothing left to say, so you walk past them.

"I think that was funny. Don't you?"

He avoids looking at you.

"I called a cab. Should take us back to the hotel"

No thanks. Nothing.

"Alright" your tone is dry. "Do as you please"

He opens the door for you, but his movements seem stiff and unnatural. Like he's second guessing every breath and step.

The car begins to move. You lean against the window, seeing the hues of neon through the glass. Joel's eyes burn holes on your head, a glimpse of brown in the reflection.

"I liked the wedding"

Joel looks at you properly for the first time since the fight. Your hair falls gracefully in cascades, hinting at an effort that tries to pass as a nonexistent one. Your makeup is soft, but your lips are in a shade he can't quite name, yet manage to make them even more fuller than usual. God, he thinks of it smeared on his clothes and mouth, feeling dumb all of the sudden. Then there's the dress. He doesn't have a favorite color, but as of now, it may be red: specially if its the red that hugs your curves, pushes your tits up and gives a little peak of your leg with its open cut, dangerously close to the start of your inner thigh. Not appropriate to wear at a church, maybe not a wedding either, but fuck didn't he care. He'd even rip it off, if it was such a problem.

"It was beautiful" he agrees, softly. "Never been to one. Maybe's why I think so"

You remove yourself from the window, now holding his gaze.

"What?" your mouth drops in surprise. "What about yours? Weren't you married?"

He smiles, but it appears to be sad. "Never got time for a wedding thought"

Joel has told you things. Things he'd never say outloud to anyone else. So whenever he opens up, letting you in, you let him, feeling that familiar pleasing ache in your chest at the thought of being enough: enough to be trusted with a piece of him. Of Joel Miller's heart.

The rest of the ride is silent, your mind still on Joel's hand on your back, on his words, and how the sting never goes.

In every thought of yours, he is.

"What'appened to your nails?"

The question catches you off guard. You're surprised he even noticed at all. But your hand lays in the space between his and your dish, stiff, as if waiting for him to hold it.

"Oh" you remove it from the table, placing it in your lap. "I chipped the polish off"

"Why?"

You turn to look at him, brown eyes examining you curiously, as if he didn't know you. Like he hadn't almost whisper those three words you had been tettering around as well.

"Why what Joel?" tone brash.

He scoffs at the change again, shoulders slumping a bit. Probably in annoyance, perhaps in defeat.

"Dunno" he goes back to his dish, cutting the steak with a bit too much force. I thought we were okay again. "S'rry I asked"

Your chest tightens, as it had been doing lately.

Was this the only thing you knew how to do now? Hurting Joel?

"No, I'm sorry"

It's his turn to get back at you. "Sorry for what?"

You swallow the lump that's formed in your throat, avoiding his gaze.

"I-"

Your eyes nervously dart across the room, trying to ignore the churn of your stomach and knot on your throat. You then catch the perfect distraction.

"I think Mark is staring at us again"

"What?" Joel asks in disbelief at your change of topic.

"Mark is staring" you sigh, getting up and dusting your dress off. "Wanna put on a show?"

"I didn't come to a wedding and wore this dress to be seated all night" you extend your hand. A quiet truce settles in between. "Let's dance"

At some point he gets up and takes your hand. It feels good. For a moment, be it childish or foolish, your mind thinks this is how it is: with no one around to know you, you're his and he's yours. It's just the two of you, dancing and laughing under the lights. He'd know the song that's playing, and when you'd ask, unfamiliar, Joel would joke: how could ya' know it, if you ain't even born yet?

For just a moment, it feels like it could be.

The music is soft. It's some sort of rendition of Lady, Lady, Lady by the band Jim hired to play at his wedding.

Joel's clammy hands slip against your cold palms as you walk to the dance floor.

"Nervous?" you ask, biting back a smile.

He squints his eyes at you. "I'm just outta practice, 's all"

You laugh. "I would've never guessed"

He shakes his head, but the ghost of a smirk hides in his lips.

"Cheeky baby. Now you actin' funny?"

Joel's hand finds its place in your waist, holding firmly as the first verses go by.

Dancing behind masks, just sort of pantomime.

But images reveal whatever lonely hearts can hide.

"Maybe I'm just tired" you reply, placing your head against his chest. His heart starts drumming faster, and you hear him gulp.

"It ain't even midnight yet"

You close your eyes, feeling every breath of his chest against your cheek.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

I know it's in your heart to stay

"Y/n-"

Lady, lady, lady, lady

"I'm sorry" this time clearer.

His body rocks yours slowly to the tempo of the music, and for a brief moment, amongst the sea of guests and the voice of the singer, time stops, and it's just him and you.

"Don't"

He can't bear it. Not tonight.

When will I ever hear you say

I love you

Not when your body feels so well against his, your head resting on his chest like all those nights ago, where Joel held you close, the silent promise of never letting you go on his warm strong embrace. Not when just the thought of losing you is too unbearable to even think of. Not when today, he can let his mind drift away and heart beat, dreaming of things that'll make him the butt of the joke. For a moment, you're not wearing this red dress that's making him insane. You're all in white and there's a ring in your hand, just as there's one in his. You'd dance and say I'm yours, forever. A giggle. You can't get rid of me. And he'd smile and reply a Good, wasn't plannin' to.

But now he feels like he's going to lose you forever.

"I missed you" it's your way of trying, again.

His head is a whirlwind of emotions.

"Yeah?"

You lean closer, until his cologne burns in your nostrils.

"Yeah"

Time like silent stares, with no apology

"Joel"

Move towards the stars, and be my only one

This time, he finds it impossible to shut you up. Not when you've raised your head until your eyes meet his, and the constellations he very much loves are ever present in your stare.

Reach into the light, and feel love's gravity

"Yeah?"

You pull in closer, and he can feel the whiff of champagne coming out of your mouth. Your lips are parted, and a shaky whisper is all it takes for his head to spin, drunk in love.

"Please"

That pulls you to my side, where you should always be

Your lips are so inviting. All he has to do is cut the centimeters separating your mouths.

But it's a wall. One filled with doubts, fear and the quiet rage of rejection.

His voice wavers when he starts speaking.

"I think-"

He hasn't even finished his sentence, but your heart is already broken.

No wonder why you've always treated it like a burden: nothing is worst than a heavy heart.

Maybe he'd come to realize just how absurd this all was. Him, much older than you and Sarah's dad. How could he let his daughter's bestfriend go this far. That he was a forty something guy, dancing with a twenty two year old girl. That love comes in all shapes and sizes, but there's no name for this you have going on since last summer. Perhaps, there'll never be.

"Please" you hear yourself repeat.

It started as a plea for a kiss. You don't know what you're begging for anymore.

"No, baby-"

And Joel is the first to step back.

Lady, lady, lady, lady, I know it's in your heart to stay

The cold water of rejection hits you in the face, far from his warm embrace, the contour of his face, centimeters away, now meters.

"We can't"

An ocean away.

"Joel-" your throat tightens, panic bubbling in your chest.

"I think we should stop"

The whole world around you does as soon as those words leave his mouth.

Sorrow is quick to turn into anger, and all those months of guilt, rush, thrill, labored breaths, broken rules and promises you held to your heart as an oath, sweet whispered cons in your pillow that smelled like him. It all comes crashing down with force.

A dry laugh escapes past your lips. Joel winces at the sound.

"A bit too late for that, isn't it?"

"Baby-"

"Don't call me baby" you hiss, feeling your vision blurry. "Don't call me like you meant it"

"I do" the music has reduced to a buzz in the back of your head. His firm voice borders between desperate and pathetic. "Which is why am making 'tis"

"Fucking coward" you spit, feeling your skin on fire.

Don't give up. Please.

Fight for me. Fight for this.

For us.

"Coward?" it's Joel's turn to laugh. His dark chuckle sends shivers through your skin. "Y' shouldn't be talkin' 'bout that"

"Don't put all of this on me" you raise your shaky finger, accusing. "Don't you fucking dare"

"Thought Mark was watchin'. Or 's that 'nother one of y'r lies?" Joel seethes. "Or maybe ya' don't give a shit 'bout it. Jus' like you ain't give a shit 'bout us!"

"You think this is easy?" your voice raises. "You think I wanted this?"

You think I don't care? That I'm doing well? That I wanted to pull away from you? That I knew things would got as bad as they are?

You think I wanted to fall for you?

His eyes darken. "You started this"

Your heart stops beating. People laugh, the band is still playing and chatter bubbles like the champagne flutes waiters carry by.

But all you can hear is the moment your palm meets his face.

"I wish I never met you, Joel Miller"

And then you rush out the door, your heels burning as much as your eyes and chest. Far from the party, far from the world.

Far from him.

"We ain't done yet!"

You hear him bark behind you, yet your legs don't stop, despite the buzz in your ears and the slight stumble in your walk.

Your voice sounds like it doesn't belong to you when you hear yourself speak, without turning around.

"I think we are"

But Joel doesn't give up, making you feel trapped between wanting to hit him again and let yourself be held.

"Y/n!" he calls out just like he used to when you were a kid. Like you knew no better. Reckless. Berating. But now the taste of bitter mingles with his punishing demeanor.

You spin your heel, walking menacingly towards him.

"Don't call me that" you seethe, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"That's your fucken name!" he shouts.

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes. "You know what I mean"

"Enlighten me, doll" the nickname feels like a slap to your face, and for a moment, you wish he called you by your name again, instead of tainting the always sweet calling with his vitriol, as if the four letters meant something sacred he had profaned. "S'a matter of fact, why don't y'enlight me 'bout everythin' that's goin' on. 'Cause guess what? I'ont know what the fuck is happenin'!"

And it terrifies me.

His shout probably ran across the empty hallway. The music coming from inside sounds like a muffled heartbeat, mirroring your own.

To lose you. I might as well have.

"I don't know why you seem'a hate me now" quiet this time, like every word coming from his mouth take his voice little by little. "Why ya' get all sweet on me after weeks of leavin' me, pushin' me to the side... I'm old, doll. I ain't capable of takin' this anymore"

I'm not capable of surviving a broken heart.

The possibility of losing Joel, foever, had never crossed your mind, not even as you closed off, ignoring the way his brown sad eyes would search yours to try and find answers, maybe scraps of the... whatever it was you shared.

Now, it was real, and it shook you to the bone.

"Was fun while it lasted" closing off, trying to shut the doors he let you in, clawing back to that Joel Miller who couldn't be bent. The one Sarah deemed unbreakable. But it's the same that didn't know when to back down, now praying the price of his foolishness.

I don't regret it, but Joel doesn't have it in him to give you more of his heart for you to take. If he cuts it now, from the root, he'll spare his brain from saving more seconds of the image of you he'd have to get rid off: you, taking your coffee with two bags of sugar because you hated uneven numbers, and three seemed too much for your latte. You, standing on his room like you belonged there. You, on his car, the leather having absorbed some of the floral scent you seemed to carry with you. In your clothes, your skin, your hair. He'd have to go to bed knowing he'd never get to feel your strands in his fingers, tickling the remmanents of desolation he'd been carrying like a second skin ever since Sarah's mother walked away.

Your blood runs cold.

"Fun?" the words spill in a bitter incredulous tone, all the while you're trying to hold to him without raising your hand for him to take it, like just the thought of it would be enough to choose you. Words seem to fail you, and grasping at him feels like holding sand: it keeps falling from your fingers, a cruel reminder of your borrowed time. "Joel"

"Fun" he repeats the word, feeling sick. "As in, you'd marry someone who's worth for ya'. Probably choose Texas, maybe you'll stay away. 'Cause you're smart, and know what's good. But if ya' came back, livin' at the same neighbour, in the house across mine, you'd glance up and see my porch, thinkin' 'bout us, and this will become a joke with y'r husband, 'bout your rebel days. To your kids, summ cautionary tale. To you? An'scape of summ sorts of y'r other wise boring life"

Your shaking at this point, not knowing if it's anger, humilliation or sorrow.

I'm sorry. Please, don't give up on me. Stay.

"I'd be an experience. But to me? Doll" Joel chuckles, humorlessly. "You were everythin'"

A choked up sob bubbles from your chest.

"So that's what you think of me?" you laugh, a sound so hollow it makes his skin shiver. "That this is for the thrill? For the fucking anecdote?!"

"Trust me. I've lived long 'nough, kid. You'll understand later"

It's like all those months next to him meant nothing. Like pulling away from your lips was the easiest thing to do.

"Don't you fucking dare call me a kid!" you push him. "I'm not a kid"

"I know you ain't!" he roars back. "But you don't know shit!"

"Neither do you!" your quick to counter. "You think you've got me all figured out, huh? Bet you think that I'm some helpless naive idiot who doesn't know what I want. I don't know what I'm doing, that you're right. But I do know what I signed up for, the price I would pay" losing you or Sarah. Both. "I wanted it, and newsflash: so did you" you breath, running your hands through your hair, trying to comb some sense of normalcy to ground yourself while you try to recover your composture. His arms lay weakly by his sides, restraining himself from running to you and craddle you on his arms. "You chose this. You chose me, Joel Miller" each word pronounced with contempt. "I'm not a victim. Neither are you"

A dry chuckle escapes past his chapped lips. "What are we, then?"

(Two lonely souls who seek warmth. People who fell into the same bed. Shared time they shouldn't have. Selfish. Living on borrowed time. Always tettering around the edge, so easy to fall. History repeating itself. The dancing around. Dirty, like the Texan roads: and they all lead back to his bed)

"So do it" you shove him again, as if by doing so, you could push him away forever. From your mind, from your heart. From your life. "Say it"

He shakes his head, as if you'd insulted him.

"Sweetheart-"

"Say. It" you bark, tasting the venom on your tongue. "Say it!"

"I can't" looking so small, your resolve almost crumbles. Almost.

"Coward" you spit, repeatedly punching him feebly on the chest as tears stream down your cheeks. He tries to grab your hands, to stop you. "Don't touch me! Let me go"

"I can't" this time louder.

Tears sprout with more intensity at the desperate weight on his tone.

A single drop runs down when you say, defeated: "Quit me"

"I can't!" he shouts in your face, voice breaking slightly.

"Why?!"

"'Cause I fucking can't!" Joel breaks. He crumbles in your arms, body shaking as he buries himself in your reluctant embrace. He speaks again, this time softer, "I can't lose 'cha, baby. If that makes me sum goddamn coward, then so be it"

Something in you stirs. Like a lost boat, finding a lighthouse during a storm. Arriving to shore with gentle waves. Home, where it belongs.

"Joel-"

"I'm sorry for bein' selfish" between agitated and terrified, afraid of the silence and what you may say. "For noticin' your quiet and still carryin' on"

"Joel"

"Believe me, doll. I tried to stop. To leave ya'" he swallows, "but then I got invited and my mind went to ya'. Fast. You were the first person in my mind. Always are. I think that's when I knew. S'okay if you don't-"

"Joel!" you shout this time.

He raises his view from his little spot on your chest.

"It isn't just you" in a whisper that could easily pass as the wind that sweeps inside from the main door. Voice so fragile it hurts like glass. "I feel this too"

Just like that, he's both gone and back. His heart beats on his throat, voice raw when he searches for your eyes and asks:

"You do?"

The big unbreakable Joel Miller, looking at you not like a force to be reckoned with, but as a man, worn down by years of solitude and the weight of a secret.

You smile through the tears. "I've been many things, but a liar never"

He chuckles, softly. "Always was a bad one"

"See?" softly teasing, "you can attest to that"

"Twenty one years seem 'nough"

"Soon to be twenty two" pause. "And I would love it if you were there to see it"

A breath hitches somewhere in the middle of the new aphonia that's settled.

"You don't mean all'at. Think 'bout it-"

"I do" you interrupt him, firmly. You hold his gaze while cupping his face, the fright on his face mirroring your own. "You asked before, remember? There's your answer"

Joel is at loss for words. Was never good with them, less when it came to you: like your presence unsettled him in the same way tornadoes made him quiver when he was a child, rattling him to the bone. But there was a morbid fascination to them, in their destructive nature. Like beauty could be horror too, and he had learnt it thanks to your unforgiving winds that had swept him away from his feet.

He was flying. Fucking flying. Never quite landing. Afraid of the fall.

"I'm scared"

Joel leans in, forehead touching yours. His skin is warm, something about it soothing your nerves down.

"Me too"

You bite back a smile. "Big broody Miller, scared?"

"Y' know how'da disarm a man. I'll give ya' that"

You laugh, eyes crinkling while you swat his chest playfully. It's the same sound he missed so dearly. Joel can feel himself breath with relief.

"Now that's the story I'll tell my kids" could be our own. "The one where I won over Joel Miller"

A deep, rich rumble erupts from his chest as he pulls you even closer, this time, your head the one on his chest.

"I'll do you one better" he slowly moves his leg closer to the inner part of your thighs. "Wanna hear how it ends?"

"Jesus, Joel" laugh tense. Your heart pulses like his cock. Hard. "You sure are a mood killer"

He presses further. "But ya' want it, don't 'cha?"

You whimper, weakly. Truth is, you've been wet since you saw him dress on his rather tight suit. Now, after what you just confessed, you're not sure you can hold back any longer.

"Use y'r words, baby"

"Our room" the possesive adjective making his stomach rumble with need. "Now"

Stumbling feet. Whispered breaths oozing with drunk desire. Giggles. Buttons of an elevator pressed forcefully. A crammed space that felt even smaller. More giggles in a hallway full of doors that looked the same. Some mumbling, trying to remember the room. Grabbing the card from his pocket. You somehow make it to your room. Fumbling fingers. One swipe. Two. Try slower, but his voice is as urgent as strained. The door gives in. Finally, couldn't wait any longer. And he's chastising you, for being so impatient. Yet his eyes are all dark and sweet when looking it at you.

"We're here" and then the door closes with a loud thud. And Joel is yours again, just like he was that night, and forever was since.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. You open your mouth and let his tongue get inside as you moan his name.

"Please" you whine.

"Please what?" Joel chuckles, enamoured at your hanging mouth and heaving chest. Fucking tease. "Use y'r words, doll"

"Please, Joel" and hearing your name fall out of your lips like it's the most sacred prayer brings him weak to his knees. "I need you"

(I need you, as in I need you here. With me. Now. To never let go and hold my hand, not only when we fuck, but also when we walk, side by side, hands brushing like a touch it's too much to bear. Because if we held hands, I'd never be able to pull back. I need you to look at me as you undress me, because I'm bearing all of me for you, scars, body and secrets, trembling like a scared child, because no one's ever had me. Not like you. Not like you)

"'S right, sweet thing" he drawls out in a husky whisper, like his slick tongue was coated in honey. He pulls your head back, nipping and sucking on your skin. "Say ma' name like 's the only thing you know"

And in a way, it is. Because you'd always call Joel, fingers itching at a number you've memorized until it's burned in your eyelids, like when you close your eyes, you can see him standing in front of you, Texan accent and heavy boots in your doorstep, later to be discarded and hidden beneath your bed.

He pulls back, making you involuntary whine at the loss of his lips and tongue on you.

"Tell me you want this" he's saying, and for a moment, past the fire and the need, you see Joel as not the man who can bring you to come two times in a row, but your bestfriend's dad, who's slept in a bed alone for the past two decades, who can't meet you in the eyes when he undresses himself, looking like the one who's got the more to lose when his lips press aginst yours in a soft manner, not out of tenderness but out of fear.

"I do" without hesitation, as if you would tattoo your promise and wear it like your heart on your sleeve. "I want you, Joel"

You want all of him: from his boring Sundays sprawled on the couch watching a rerun of some old sitcom to his greying hair, aching joints and creaking bones, that despite so, would still kneel and eat your pussy like a man starved, tongue sliding through your folds with a learned ache, pouring the same yearn, longing and hunger that he wears on his eyes when they land on you, no matter if his brown are miles away, because they'd always find your own, like a boat lost in translation and a sea of sorrow coming back home, as if you're the only important thing in the world. His anchor. The lighthouse of his vast ocean of forlorness.

"That's my girl" but no smirk adorns his face, rather a small smile that warms your chest, right as he pulls you back in. There's a shift in the aire as he kisses you know, as if not only his tongue is in your insides but his soul, without holding back this time, like all limits have blurred and melted into a pool of desire and affection.

Joel pushes you down onto the wide bed, climbing on top of you as he kisses your jawline, leaving wet kisses along your warm skin. You moan as every contact of his mouth sends shudders to your body, him taking his time as he works over your jaw, down to your chest.

"Such'a pretty doll. And's mine" his calloused fingers fiddle with your bra, unclasping the lingerie until it falls messily discarded next to the bed. "Got summ nice tits on you, baby" and Joel's eyes sparkle with excitement, lighting up like the neon lights of the Vegas sign, "don't 'cha think?"

Your back arches with his touches, mouth ghosting over your nipple, already pebbled at just Joel's breath.

"Fuck, Joel" you mewl his name, dragged with difficulty as he laps his tongue over your breasts greedily. You can feel Joel's cock pulse and throbb in your thigh as his body hovers over yours, lips still wrapped around your nipple as he suckles and nibbles at the tender flesh.

"'S sorry, doll" he's apologizing in a mocking manner as you whimper at the contact of him against you, suckling hard, tongue swirling and flicking over the sensitive bud as he drew it deeper into the wet heat of his mouth. "Ain't know you'd be so fucken responsive with just a lil' lick at y'r pretty tits"

As your body trembles and quakes, he speaks again.

"Open y'r mouth" you do so, because honestly, you'd never deny him a thing. "Want 'cha to suck on 'tis fingers, like the slut ya're. Get them wet so they feel good against 'tis greedy pussy"

You take the fingers as you'd take his cock, sucking on the skin that tastes like salt and gasoline, a slight bitter taste but you take them as deep as you can, until your lips brush his rough knuckles.

"Good greedy whore" he praises. "Now let me help ya' with that"

Joel gestures your damp panties, taking them off and putting them up his nose, inhaling like he did the first time you ever fucked, back at the beach house that summer that feels a life ago, seawaves crashing onto the shore as they drowned out your moans.

"Sweet" as if your arousal was his favorite dessert, gripping the sticky lingerine until his knuckles turn white. "Fucken wet and drippin', and s'all for me"

He feels your greedy hands fumble with his pants and belt, pulling him closer as the feeling of unfairness at his clothed figure dawns upon you.

"I like how you look in a suit, but right now-"

He laughs, a deep rich sound bubbling up from his chest.

"Ma' baby wants it that bad, huh?" you nod your head feverishly, a beg threatening past your lips.

"Please, Joel. I want to suck your cock" the dirty words come out as quick as a breath. "I missed it so so bad" not caring at all about how desperate you come across or the pitiful begging that's a plea away from drooling out of your mouth with an aching hunger.

"'S that what you want? Draggin' me out'a reception 'cause y'r greedy dirty mouth couldn't keep still? Bet you'd crawl on da' floor just to get a taste of this dick" every word makes you mewl. "Might have to see ya' beggin' for it"

"I'll do it" you beg, voice a wanton plea. "I'll do whatever, I just need to-"

"I see ya' really do"

He removes your hands from his body, chuckling as you pout and whine like a baby.

"Love hearin' ya' so eager fo'me" Joel says, tugging the pants finally down. Through the cloth of his underwear, it's impossible not to see the silhoutte of his hard throbbing dick.

The sight of him, hair disheveled, pupils blown wide, white button shirt now wrinkled and sticky with sweat, tie loose and that faint smell of champagne that clung to his mouth and scent like a second layer of his skin.

"Get on the floor. Now" he commands, and you're quick to obey. "Gonna fuck that dirty mouth of yours until my cum dribbles outta your cheek. S' now? Be obedient if ya' want a taste, slut"

You let out a small whimper as Joel frees his cock from his underwear.

"That's right, baby. Like what ya' see?" his cock is straddling your face in your current kneeling form. "Need that mouth to open wider"

You obey in an instant.

"Good girl"

Joel shoves his cock inside your mouth, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pushing a little further. You bob your head forward but the task proved to be hard when he was thrusting at the same time. His big hard dick hits the back of your throat, a gag dying past your busy lips. 

"'S it bad if I tell ya' I like watchin' you squirm and struggle with my cock? 'S fuckin' hot"

You narrow your eyes, struggling to keep your throat relaxed as he thrusts forward, fucking your mouth and throat. Your thighs clasp together, the slick pooling down your legs in the absence of underwear.

Joel's groans become raspier as his body begins to tense.

"'M gonna fuck y'r throat raw, doll. And then, I'm gonna cum. Down y'r greedy throat. 'S my girl okay with that" he can see the plea in your eyes as you choke on his cock once more. "S'alright then. Ya' know I love to spoil ma' girl"

As his body starts to edge closer, his tongue runs loose.

"Love watching you suck ma' dick" he looks down on you, eyes glossy, probably because he was drunk in alcohol and you. "Love how it feels. Love how you feel. Love- I love you"

(There's an involuntary gag somewhere)

Joel's body tenses and it doesn't take that much for you to feel the warmth of his cum go down your throat.

You choke again and he brings his dick out of your throat and let you swallow the rest. 

There's a beat of silence, as dense as his fluids down your throat. You avoid his gaze, heart drumming on your chest.

"Doll..." he whispers, the last bits of climax sweating off his skin; all that's left is shame. "C'mere"

(Say it back, he should plead. I know your eyes don't lie, but if I heard those three silly words out of your mouth, I could die happy tonight. A bigger man would beg, but he's never been good, even if he tried)

He helps you get up, wobbly legs not being of help when it comes to the shock of his confession.

I love you.

As much as a tender touch as a knife slitting your chest open in a clean cut.

(You're bleeding love)

Love.

Such a foreign word, one you've never felt before. Yet, what's scary is recognizing that latent warmth on every stolen glance; brush of a hand. The tingles provoked by getting the largest serving, even if his daughter sat at the same table. The flutter of your chest when he tried to be there for you when you thought you were pregnant, even if he was as scared as you. In every little thing he had done since you first started playing with fire, how you wore his heartbeat as an echo and his skin like a second layer to your own.

His lips are swollen when they take yours.

"'S fine" some kind of tiredness seeping through the cracks of his gruff exterior and composed rejected posture. "Ya' don't have to-"

"I love you" you croack out.

His voice comes out impossibly small as he whispers. "What...?"

A fireworks show explodes out somewhere in the background.

"I love you" you repeat, words dripping with an adoration only known to captain's going down with their sinking ships.

You're drowning, but the water doesn't burn your lungs anymore.

"Lemme help with that sore throat of yours" he's tugging down your bottom lip, fingers playing with your mouth to open it. He gazes at you with a look that tugs at your heartstrings. "Open, baby"

Your dry throat and warm mouth welcomes the spit he lands inside.

"There ya' go" and you swallow it, making him curse. "Fuck. 'S so hot seein' you do that, my lil' sweet slut"

"Joel" you whine, hands curled up in white fists as you grab him by the collar of his button shirt.

"Whoa, baby. What's goin' on?" he chuckles softly. "Use y'r words"

"Y-You made a mess-" you blabber, the wet slick between your thigh sticky. "I-It hurts, Joel"

"Hurt?" he cocks an eyebrow. "Care to show me where?"

You sit in the bed, parting your legs, finger pointing out the moist zone.

"Here"

His adam's apple bobs, and the gulp reverberates against the walls of the room.

"Fuck... I see" each word strained. "Don't worry, doll. I can help ya' with'at"

It's his turn to kneel, knees burying on the carpet.

He places one of his big hands on your knee, his calloused fingers tracing absent patterns over the skin. His other hand drums slighty against your trembling leg, so close yet so far. You're so impossibly eager, and a part of him, that fragile ego, is boosted to the roof at your (actual and very real) want for him.

All that glistening pussy was his work. Joel really disarmed you like that.

"If I do this, maybe it won't hurt anymore" his mustache and recently trimmed beard tickle against your sensitive folds as he presses a kiss to your core. You writhe, throwing your head back as your hands fly to his hair, gripping the greying loose curls tightly at the contact. "Will ya' let me eat out this pretty pussy, doll?"

"Please" you let out, breathlessly.

"Love hearin' ya' beg" and he dives in, strong hands holding your thighs on place as he sucks your clit lightly. Your hips buck, his face burying into your cunt to the point his nose touches the warm folds. You moan at the feeling, his tongue now circling against your center.

"J-Joel"

"Feels s'good, right? As good as I feel feastin' on this tight little cunt" and his deep voice sends jolts when it echoes against your walls. You squirm at the sensation, stomach tight with his sucking and licking, misntrations sending you to the edge.

"Joel?"

Barely above a whisper, voice tight.

He looks up to you, pupils blown wide. "Yes?"

"C-Can you finger me, please?"

"Fuck, baby" he whistles. "You really know how'da bring a man to his knees"

And you chuckle at his lame attempt of a joke, not laughing at him but with him.

Joel slides one of his thick, calloused fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the velvet softness of your inner walls clench down on the invading digit, a demonstration of how impatient they were to take his cock. He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight, slow circles.

"Wanna hear you, y/n" just your name alone on his mouth makes you writhe, and Joel's encouragement as his finger dips lower to tease at your entrance. He slides a second finger into your cunt, pumping in and out of your tight walls in a steady, driving rhythm. You roll against his hand as he curls his fingers. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby. Wanna see you ride 'em 'til you come undone. Wanna taste your cum on my tongue as you scream ma' name"

He can feel your body start to tremble, pussy clenching down on his fingers as he fucks you with a relentless pace.

"Shit" he groans, tongue lapping firmly at your clit, "s' fucking tight"

"I-I can't help it" you feel the burning sensation in the corner of your eyes, "I-I feel every inch of you in me"

(Up to your body, head and heart)

"And you ain't even had my cock yet" he's quick to tease. "But I know you'll feel s'good, baby. Takin' my cock like da' good girl y'are"

Tears begin to stream down your face freely, the salty drops hot against your warm skin.

You sniffle, and Joel's movements stop for a bit.

"You cryin'?" but you know damn well he's aroused, by the way he licks his lips absentmindedly as his brown orbs stare back at you, dilatated. You still remember the last time you cried during sex, and how his reaction was practically the same, except this time, it's received with a grateful welcome home. "Fuck, baby- I love when you cry like a lil' cocksleeve over ma' dick"

Despite the lewd words, he's wiping your tears away with his thumb in a soft gentle touch.

"S'okay, baby" he coos, kissing up your throat and onto your chin. Then, you feel a wet sensation on your cheek: but it isn't the tears, yet his tongue, licking the hot stream. "I'll give ya' ma' cock if you want it so much. Now quit your cryin', yeah?"

But you keep sniffling, impossible to close the dam once it's broken.

"My sweet crybaby" Joel mumbles, "I love ya', doll"

"I love you too" each time you said it, a new flower blooming in your heart. It could be. "I do, Joel"

He smiles, the kind of smile that is painful to watch. The kind that says: Is this real? Do I deserve this?

"Y'know I'm bad with words, so lemme show you instead"

He's climbing on top of you as you push yourself into the middle of the bed, lips tangled into a demanding kiss, his tongue dominating your mouth like he wants to tame it. He drops his underwear again, but he's still wearing the goddamn shirt. You whine, and for a second, while over you, he stops.

"What is it, baby?" Joel pants.

"T-take it off" you huff, worked up. You let the tie loose first, starting to unbutton his shirt after. "I want to see you, Joel"

His hand is quick to fly and stop you from taking it off. Even in the dim lit room, you can see the faintest of a blush covering his cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." he mumbles, "I dunno-"

"Please" trying to remove his hand.

"You really wanna?" but behind his teasing smile there's both a hopeful and vulnerable glint to his voice.

You extend your hand, cupping his cheek. He leans into the touch, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and it's just you, your ragged breaths and the light tickle of his growing beard on your palm.

It could be.

"Because I love you" holding his gaze firmly. "All of you"

"Fuck, baby" Joel starts to get off the shirt, "ya' really made those fuckers downstairs drop their damn mouths when ya' walked in with me. Couldn't believe it, such'a pretty girl could be mine" he snarls, grabbing your face by the chin. "Hell, I'ont believe it either. That you could wanna be with me"

But then you're touching his now naked form before you, fingers slowly tracing through his face to his tense jawline. Then across his broad shoulders to his tummy, feeling the soft swell against your stomach as he leans over your eager form. It's the way you look at him, as if he's the most beautiful man in the world, that makes his breath catch on his throat, staggering.

Your sweet broken voice rings in his head.

It isn't just you. I feel this too.

(Scared. Confused. Happy. Grieving. Loving)

It should be his ego boosted and cock stroked, but when his eyes find yours, it's his heart that feels the fullest.

Fuck, he was too old for this shit.

"Look at 'cha, making lame ol' me a sappy motherfucker" he laughs, the same blush from earlier now more prominent. He leans down to kiss you, his moustache brushing your lips. "If ya' don't stop, I'll take ya' right now and we're gettin' married tonight by summ random Elvis guy"

"What If I wanted that?" you challenge as your mouth presses fluttering kisses to his caging arm, lips stopping on each spot and mole peppered through his thick bicep.

"Then get dressed" you feel him squirm under your insistent lips, "'cause I ain't gettin' married again while naked"

"Where you married, Joel?" you can feel the salt air up your nose of the first night again, asking the same questions. The fact that he's opening to you warms your chest in a pleasant way.

He looks at you absentmindedly, humming as to confirm.

"We were too damn young. Had to, for the baby on the way" he tells. You remember Sarah's aversion to the topic, and given his next words, it makes sense. "Then she left"

I would never leave.

"I'm sorry" you offer instead.

"Don't" the atmosphere is quick to change again as thise words leave his mouth. "Now, where were we?"

You're quick to spread your legs to him, gilstening cunt on full view.

"Good girl" he smirks, lining himself with your warm entrance. "If ya' keep behavin', I might give ya' my cum"

His tip against your clit for a few seconds before pushing down against your hole. Joel groans as his length sinks in your gummy walls, feeling the tightness from before.

"You feel s'good" grunting as he slowly pushes in, letting you adjust to his girth. "Always do" 

He presses a gentle kiss to your sweaty hairline. 

"Tell me how it feels"

"Good" you mewl. "Big"

"Ain't that right" he chuckles.

"Need it all. Please" and you grip his neck tightly, arms around it. His nose brushes against yours as he grunts out a You little minx. "Want it, Joel. I can take it"

He bottoms out. "Then do"

"Fuck" you curse, cunt stretched to adapt to his girth. You breath in painfully, and Joel's eyes lace with concern. "I-It's fine"

"Sure? I can wait"

"I’m okay" you assure him, moved by his care for you. You buck your hips. "You can move"

He starts by setting a slow pace, taking all the space insade your clutching heat. Joel groans at the sensation, your walls gripping him like a vice as he continues to move in a slow motion, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes. Yet, as his arms cage you by your sides and you look at him with certainty, he picks up a brutal pace, just as you like it, slamming into you over and over again, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the small bathroom.

"K-keep going" you grip his left arm. Joel lets out a hiss as your nails dig on his skin. "Feels so good"

"Good'nough for you to cum on m'dick?" he groans huskily in your ear, breath ghosting on your skin like a hot kiss. "Gonna fill you up, doll. I'll mark you as mine, now and for da' rest of y'r life"

The way his voice drips with dominance as he commands you, filled with a rough rich baritone tinted with a possesive hunger, his hips moving faster as he drives into you with force, pistoning harder is enough to set you on edge.

He leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

"Cum f'me, baby. Let me hear ya' cryin' over my cock"

Tears. Stars. Grunts. Moans. Cum.

Your cry for his name against his lips is how you announce your orgasm, washing over you. Your walls flutter as Joel lets you ride slowly through your climax.

"There ya' go, baby. Go on, ride it" then, he pauses. His face strains. "Hold on tight. I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum. Right there, baby. Stay"

Somewhere along the moans and the writhes of your soft skin against his hard planes and soft belly, Joel asks where you want it. Inside, you hear yourself say, eager to feel all of him again, filling your insides, invading every inch of your body until a part of himself leaks into your heart. He's then blabbering as your walls and heart flutter, about kids and other things you both want but can't have. Tonight, though, as he Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he starts to come, grinding against you, making sure you feel every last spurt, every last bit of his release, you allow yourself to believe.

He pumps some shallows thrusts inside of your slick dripping cunt, emptying himself, before pulling out and looking down at you with a tired smile.

"I love you" he says again in fervent whisper, as if by repeating it, he could materialize it. "I love you so fucking much, y/n. And if ya' can't accept that, can't believe in that, then... then I'ont know what the fuck I'm gonna do. 'Cause I can't lose ya', baby. I can't"

"You won't" you don't know why it comes so easy, or why the promise slips as natural as a breath. "I'm here, Joel Miller. You won't lose me"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They Unknowingly Bring Up and Insecurity| Seungmin Pt2

Pt1 Pt3

Seungmin sat in the living room with the guys while you were in the kitchen with Lee Know preparing something for your guy's weekly hangout. You all decided on playing monopoly together, with you and Seungmin partnering up.

Bangchan carefully set up the board while Felix was handing out the money.

"Seungmin hyung." Jeongin asked as he handed his elder the thimble to him.

"Is Y/N okay? She's been really quiet. She won't even talk to me." Jeongin's face was droopy as he stuck his lip out. "I was wondering if she was upset about something?"

Seungmin took a breath and spoke quietly. His voice soft and rather sad.

"I think I said something that hurt her feelings really bad." His voice was starting to wobble a bit, and that told Jeongin all he needed to know.

"Did you say sorry?"

Seungmin nodded and his cheeks puffed out slightly as he pouted. "She said she was okay but I don't believe her."

Jeongin grabbed the hat and messed with it. "Well, what did you say to her?" He inquired.

Seungmin pulled out his phone and scrolled up to his texts with you. Which it didn't take long for him to scroll up because you hadn't been texting him as often. He only heard from you for important or urgent things, and he was missing the little random blurbs of somewhat unnecessary - but entirely endearing - information about what you were doing.

He handed his phone to Jeongin and the maknae quickly read it through.

"Hyung, you know why Y/N and her last boyfriend broke up right...?"

Seungmin shook his head and Jeongin opened his mouth to speak but you walked in with Minho with a tray of snacks.

"Did Minho teach you how to make something new?" Chan asked you. Seungmin could tell the rest of the guys had picked up on your odd silence, but you nodded.

"Kinda...he taught me how to set a charcuterie board. It's pretty."

You set it down and Jisung immediately went to go grab something.

"MMM Y/N THIS IS SO GOOD!!" He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and his cheeks puffed up. "You need to teach me now!!"

The effort Jisung had given to get you to respond was in vain.

"Jiji, I just grabbed the cheese from a package..."

The wide eyed quokka boy scratched his neck. "Oh um. Its still good though."

Throughout the first thirty minutes of you guys playing, minimal conversation was made and Seungmin was feeling antsy.

He missed your voice.

When you stood up to go to the bathroom and go restock the snack supply all the guys turned to you.

"Seungmin apologize. I miss my baby girl..." Jisung whined.

Seungmin deadpanned and Jisung frowned. "What she was my baby girl before she became your baby girl..."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to fix it! I don't know what I did wrong really..."

"Hyung, her boyfriend broke up with her because of her tendency to overshare...and you know...talk a lot."

Seungmin's puppy eyes narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"It was a stupid reason to break up really. She only told me because one time she was feeling insecure when we were hanging out and some lady told me that 'my girlfriend talked a lot'; which I told her that I wasn't dating her but also that it didn't matter because I talk a lot too." Jeongin frowned.

Seungmin blinked a few times and bit his bottom lip.

"I don't think she's upset at you Seungmin..." Changbin spoke. "From what I see it seems like she's trying not to be a burden."

"Burden?"

"She doesn't want you to break up with her so she's trying to change that aspect about herself. You're naturally a quiet person and she probably thinks she's too much for you and that you'll get tired of it."

Seungmin shook his head. "No! I could never get tired of Y/N-ie!"

Chan chuckled. "You guys really are perfect for each other." He says, marveling in his work. "But...tone doesn't translate over text."

"And you're a sarcastic motherfucker." Minho adds.

Hyunjin stretches across the floor. "You can say that again."

Jisung huffs. "Well go on and apologize! Because I want my gossip buddy back! She never finished telling me about the drama on her mom's side of the family! I was invested in which side piece got her cousin pregnant!"

Hyunjin shoots up, sniffing the drama. "Ya! Seungmin fix it! I want to know now too!"

Seungmin looked down at the board as he contemplated just how he could fix this.

Because sometimes words weren't the cure.

But actions were.

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

Sorry for the short work 🫠. But in all the drafts of my 3 part angst series (oops theres more?) the 2nd part tends to be shorter since its the down hill of the plot.

[ambrosialdesire]

bloodsports

[ PART ONE ] [ PART TWO ]

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI

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

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck Reiner Braun.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks."

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

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We could be."

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

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

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

"No, we couldn't."

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Get out.

Get out.

GET OUT.

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N...?"

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

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

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

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Didn't get accepted.

Heartbroken.

Bar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bertolt grumbled quietly. "What time is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't know."

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

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

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

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

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

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

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

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

"Hey! Reiner, you can't just—!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go get yourself ready."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click.

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

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

Reiner, Bertolt, Eren.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did it for you.

[willowsnook]

Hello hello!! Just found your blog and I’m absolutely in love with your writing. So if it’s ok I come with a bar order.. whiskey with lime in a tall glass please and thank you

thanks for the kind words :)

lando norris x bsf! reader

You are mine, end of discussion

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

"Dude I am so fucking excited for today," you said to Lando as you guys walked into the paddock. He gave you a weird look.

"I mean I'm literally starting P15 but I really appreciate your faith in me," he replied scratching his head.

"I don't care about the race," you quickly said before correcting yourself. "I mean of course I care and you'll be amazing superstar but did you hear who is in the Alpine garage today?"

He shook his head at you frowning. You were busting at the seams with excitement.

"Joe Burrow!!!" You squealed. "Pierre said he would introduce me and I might die."

Even though you had moved from the States a couple of years ago you still avidly followed American Football. Now the Bengals weren't your team necessarily but Joe Burrow...that man had aura.

"Were you that excited to meet me the first time," Lando asked pouting.

"I didn't even know who you were," you replied laughing and Lando's frown deepened.

When you met Lando you had just moved to Monaco and had spent a lot of days working out of a coffee shop next to your building. On a busier day, he had asked if he could sit with you for a second as there weren't any seats open. You'd hit it off when he noticed that you were working but also had your phone set up to watch the Masters. He invited you to go golfing with his friend Max and a couple of others and you just fit in so effortlessly to the group. You definitely had a crush on him in the beginning but nothing had ever happened so you brushed it off.

"I have to go get ready now, but I'll see you after the race," he said shortly and walked off. Confused you watched him go, you'd definitely pissed him off but you weren't sure how.

Spotting Pierre, you rushed over to him as he was heading to the garage.

"Can't believe Lando is letting you loose to meet Joe Burrow," he said as you fell into step next to him.

"I didn't realize I had to get his permission to go anywhere," you said sweetly and he threw his hands up in mock defeat.

"I just know that if Kika was this excited to meet another man, I'd have a problem."

"You do realize that Lando is not my boyfriend."

"Mmhmm," he replied giving you a wink.

The two of you walked into the garage and you were growing more nervous, especially when you caught sight of Joe talking to Esteban. He waved at Pierre, shaking his hand and then his eyes fell to you, curious.

"This is y/n, she's a good friend of ours," Pierre introduced and Joe took your hand shaking it.

"She's also Lando's personal attack dog," Esteban joked and you laughed along with Joe.

"Nice to meet you, y/n," he said smiling. "It's good to find an American here holding down the fort."

"Yeah I couldn't weasel my way into the NFL so had to settle for second best," you joked and he laughed while Pierre and Esteban protested.

"You know it is taking a lot to be civil with you right now because you broke my heart in 2019," you said seriously and he smirked.

"Let me guess, Clemson or Oklahoma?"

"Oklahoma," you admitted looking away.

"I would say I'm sorry but I'm definitely not," he said teasing. "Even if it made a pretty girl like you turn against me."

You flushed and saw Pierre shoot Esteban a look who just laughed turning away.

"Are you watching in here?" Joe asked. "I'd love some good company."

"No, I'll be in McLaren," you told him. "Lando will throw a fit if I'm not there."

"Well I'd actually love to meet him, so I'll swing by later yeah?" You nodded bidding them all goodbye and heading back to the garage.

"Is she dating him or what?" You heard Joe ask and you slowed to hear Pierre respond.

"It's complicated."

His answer confused you but you brushed it off.

The race was amazing. You were so proud watching Lando fight his way to P4 and seeing Oscar take home the win. Finding him after the win, he swept you up into a big hug.

"I'm so proud of you buddy," you said grinning. "But you stink."

He laughed promising to take a shower before you guys left.

"Hey man, great race," you heard Joe say slapping Lando's hand.

"Thanks," he said politely. He had his arm around your shoulder and you moved to get out but his grip tightened, holding you there.

"Would love to see you at a Bengals game sometime, both of you," he said and you nodded brightly.

"I think we're good," Lando replied shortly and you elbowed him hard in his side giving him a look.

"Stop being so rude," you said annoyed but Joe just laughed.

"No worries, I'd act the same way if I were him," he said cockily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked confused and he winked at you.

"He knows."

You could feel Lando steaming as you followed him into his driver's room, ready to lay into him.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" You questioned. "That was so fucking embarrassing."

"Oh I'm so sorry for ruining your chances with Joe Burrow," he said whirling on you. "I'm sure you it'll still work out though and you can start going to all his games, wear his merch, and wait for him outside the locker room."

"You are literally insane," you seethed and he laughed humorlessly stepping closer to you.

"Your place is not next to him," he said, voice rising. "It's right here in this room, next to me at every race and every day for that matter. You are mine, end of discussion."

You stood there gaping as he walked into the bathroom slamming the door. What the actual fuck? You were pissed. This whole time you had thought he hadn't felt the same way because he never said anything and it took Joe fucking Burrow to figure it out.

Ripping the door open you stormed into the bathroom, not caring about Lando being undressed in the shower. You yanked the shower door open stepping in, letting the water hit you as Lando stared at you with wide eyes. He started to say something but you cut him off, slamming your lips into his, pressing him against the wall.

He took over the kiss, moving aggressively while pulling you closer to him. You pulled back for air and he smiled softly at you.

"I love you," he said and your heart swelled.

"I love you too," you replied. "But I still want to go to a Bengals game."

He rolled his eyes, bringing you in for another kiss.

[littlest-w01f]

Comfort

Sylus x Reader

SYLUS MASTERLIST

LADS MASTERLIST

Summary: You can be a pain in his ass, but when you need comfort, Sylus is always there to make things better

Cw: Fluff. Just fluff. also a little period stuff

A/N: For the new quad banner, I had to. Sylus with cat ears and a tail? Gimmie, pls

"So can you hear from both of these?" You giggled, stroking Sylus's cat ears that twitched under your hand. However temporary, he was moody about the change, if his flattened tail was anything to go by, "Or do only your normal ears work?"

"If you keep teasing me kitten, I'll leave." Sylus rolled his eyes, to hide that he liked you scratching his ears, crimson eyes flashing darkly, "Who'll cuddle you through your cramps then, huh?"

You gave him a sly grin, nearly swallowed by his arms as he held you in your bed, "I'm not the 'kitten' right now." You taunt him with a tug at his ears, which cause him to groan deeply.

"Careful, sweetie." Sylus's deep voice rumbled in a warning tone against your palm as you tugged playfully at his sensitive cat ears, drawing out a low, throaty groan from the tall, imposing figure beside you. His crimson eyes flashed with a mix of annoyance and pleasure, a look that never failed to send shivers down your spine.

"Oh, don't give me that," You teased, Your own eyes sparkling with mirth. "You know full well I love when you grumble at me like some cranky old man."

Sylus's expression softened slightly at your words, though he still maintained a stern facade. He reached up to capture your wandering hand, bringing it to rest over his chest, just above the rumbling purr emanating from within. "As much as I enjoy our little games, y/n…"

You pouted at where his tone was going, "I'm all bleeding and hurting and having cramps. You're supposed to be nice to me, Sy. You're being a bad butler."

Sylus's stern demeanor faltered at the sight of your pout, the adorable way your lower lip quivered ever so slightly. He knew he had no chance against your playful charm, especially not when you were feeling vulnerable.

"Ah, forgive me, My Lady," Sylus said, his voice taking on a more formal, apologetic tone, his tail softly beating against your thigh. "I seem to have misplaced my usual decorum." He joked with a straight face.

He leaned in closer, his warm breath ghosting across your cheek as he spoke. "Perhaps, if you prefer, I could try my hand at soothing techniques more suited to a lover..." Sylus trailed off suggestively, his gaze dropping to the gentle rise and fall of your abdomen beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown.

A soft gasp escaped your lips at Sylus's whispered suggestion, your heart fluttering in anticipation. The idea of his skilled hands exploring your body, intent on easing your discomfort, sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

His proximity made it impossible to ignore the subtle vibrations of his purring, the warmth radiating from his muscular form as he leaned in close. The scent of his unique, spicy aroma enveloped you, making your head spin with desire.

"Please..." You had only said the word and his hands were on you, lifting your nightgown to gently stroke your burning abdomen, the energy of his evol providing relief to your cramps.

As Sylus's large, deft fingers began to massage your sensitive stomach, you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. The heat from his palms seeped into your skin, providing a soothing respite from the gnawing pain of your menstrual cramps. His touch was gentle yet firm, each stroke designed to ease the tension and relax your muscles.

The movement of his tail against your leg was almost hypnotic, its rhythmic sway mirroring the steady cadence of his ministrations. His pointed ears remained pricked, focused intently on your reactions, as if attuned to every subtle shift in your breathing and the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

"You feel so warm, sweetie," Sylus murmured, his deep voice a soothing counterpoint to the gentle pressure of his hands. "Like a furnace burning bright within you."

You whined and buried your head in his chest, "My body feels like it's being ripped apart-"

"Shh, it's alright, my dear," Sylus cooed, his strong arms encircling you as he held you close against his broad chest. The warmth of his body enveloped you, a comforting balm against the intense agony coursing through your core. His hands continued their tender massage, kneading and stroking along the curves of your abdomen, working to soothe the relentless cramping.

As you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin, a soft, rumbling purr vibrated through Sylus's chest, resonating against your cheek. The sound was both calming and intoxicating, sending waves of relaxation washing over you. "Just breathe, y/n," he instructed, his voice a low, soothing timbre. "Let yourself drift. I've got you."

"See, you can be a good kitty!" You giggled when his tail wrapped around your wrist, gently stroking the fur with your other hand.

A pleased rumble emanated from deep within Sylus's chest at your praise, his tail continuing to caress your wrist with gentle, soothing strokes. "Mmm, perhaps..." He purred, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement as they met yours.

As you played with his tail, Sylus's hands never ceased their gentle massage, his touch growing more confident and sure as he worked to alleviate the lingering discomfort. The sensation of his chest brushing against your cheek as you nestled into him added another layer of comfort, the softness contrasting with the hardness of his muscles beneath your fingertips.

"You should rest up. I'll be here when you get up." Sylus teased, his voice low.

With a contented sigh, you allowed yourself to sink further into Sylus's embrace, the warmth and security of his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon. His tail continued its gentle stroking, the soft fur a pleasant contrast against your skin as you explored the texture with curious fingers.

As you drifted lazily, Sylus's strong hands never left your abdomen, his touch a constant reminder of his care and attention. The rhythmic kneading and rubbing seemed to melt away the last vestiges of pain, leaving only a dull ache that even the most determined cramp couldn't quite reach.

"You're such a sweetheart," you murmured sleepily, your eyelids heavy with fatigue. "Even when I'm being all grumpy, you always take care of me."

Sylus's chuckle reverberated through his chest, the vibration sending delightful tingles up your spine. It was a rich, deep sound, filled with warmth and affection, a perfect accompaniment to the soothing rhythm of his hands on your abdomen. As you listened, entranced by the rumble, you felt your eyelids growing heavier, the lullaby of his purrs and the gentle massage slowly pulling you under.

"Mmm... Maybe I should start charging for this service," Sylus teased, his voice a low, sleepy growl. Despite the words, there was no real bite to his words.

As Sylus's teasing words floated through the air, you managed a weak smile, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards before succumbing to the pull of exhaustion. His playful remark was the final thread needed to unravel the tangled web of your thoughts, allowing them to slip away into the depths of slumber.

With a soft, contented sigh, you surrendered to the allure of sleep, your body relaxing completely in Sylus's embrace. His strong arms held you securely, cradling you like a precious treasure as he guided you towards the peaceful darkness of unconsciousness.

As you drifted off, the last thing you registered was the gentle pressure of his lips pressing a soft, loving kiss to the top of your head.

As you stirred awake, you found yourself still nestled comfortably in Sylus's arms, his strong embrace a reassuring anchor amidst the remnants of your dream-filled slumber. His tail, once active and playful, now lay still against your waist, the slow, rhythmic stroking a soothing lullaby to guide you back to full awareness.

Noticing the relaxed, peaceful expression on Sylus's face, you realized he too must have fallen asleep while keeping watch over you. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, a testament to the depth of his devotion and the unspoken bond between you.

Gently, you shifted your position, careful not to disturb the sleeping man. As you did, his nose twitched, and his eyes fluttered open, revealing those mesmerizing crimson eyes gazing up at you with a mix of drowsiness and affection.

"No no..." You whispered softly, closing his eyes with your hand, "Go back to sleep."

At your gentle whisper, Sylus's eyelids fluttered closed once more, a soft giggle escaping his lips, his breathing evening out as he pretended to slip back into a peaceful slumber. Your hand lingered on his face, the soft pads of your fingers tracing the contours of his cheeks and jawline in a soothing caress.

His face nuzzled instinctively into your palm, seeking out your comforting touch. A small, satisfied rumble vibrated through his chest, the sound barely audible but tangible against your skin.

Watching him, you marvelled at the way his features softened, the usual sharp angles and planes of his face giving way to a gentler, more vulnerable expression. In repose, he looked younger somehow, the weight of responsibility and duty momentarily lifted from his shoulders.

Your gaze travelled downwards, taking in his form. The sight filled you with a sense of profound peace and contentment, a reminder of the strength and stability he brought to your life.

"Kitten?" He mumbled, waking up from you scratching his ear, his voice thick with sleep and concern, pulling you closer to him. "Is everything alright? Are you feeling better?"

His hands moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks in a gesture of tenderness and worry. The crimson of his eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of the room, searching your face for any signs of lingering discomfort or distress.

"Yeah... I'm better." You sighed softly, kissing his cheek.

Sylus's expression visibly relaxed at your reassurance, the tension easing from his shoulders as he pulled you closer, one arm snaking around your waist while the other remained cupped around your face. The pad of his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, a gentle, almost absent-minded gesture that spoke volumes about his affection for you.

"I'm glad," He murmured, his voice still rough with sleep but warm with relief. "You had me worried there for a moment."

"I... I always have bad cramps, I'm used to it." You smiled, petting his tail softly, hoping to soothe him.

At your words and gentle touch, Sylus's tail swished happily, the tip curling around your wrist in a show of gratitude and affection. He leaned in closer, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes, his own crimson eyes shimmering with emotion.

"I know you're tough, my little lady," he rumbled softly, his breath ghosting over your lips. "But that doesn't mean I won't worry. You're important to me, sweetie. More than you could ever know."

His free hand slid down from your face to tangle in your hair, fingers gently soothingly massaging your scalp. The gesture was tender, and intimate, speaking to the depth of his feelings for you without the need for words.

At Sylus's tender declaration, you felt your heart swell with emotion, a lump forming in your throat as you blinked back the sudden moisture gathering in your eyes. His words, spoken in that low, gravelly tone, carried the weight of a thousand unsaid sentiments, each syllable imbued with the force of his love and devotion.

"I… I don't know what I'd do without you," You whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to convey the depth of your own feelings. "You make everything better, just by being here with me."

As if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned in, bridging the scant distance between you until your lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. It was a meeting of souls, a silent promise and affirmation of the bond you shared, the connection that ran deeper than mere physical attraction.

Sylus's eyes widened comically as your fingers found their mark, a high-pitched gasp escaping his lips as he arched into your touch. His ears flattened against his head, twitching wildly as you scratched along the sensitive edges and base of his ears.

"Oh! Oh, kitten!" He gasped, his voice pitched higher than normal as he squirmed beneath you. "That feels amazing!"

Sylus's reaction was utterly adorable, his usually stoic demeanor melting away as he succumbed to the pleasurable sensations of your skilled fingers. His eyes fluttered shut, a blissful expression settling onto his features as he leaned further into your touch, clearly craving more.

"I thouht you didn't like it just now..." You teased, softly taking your hand away.

Sylus's eyes snapped open at the loss of your touch, a look of panic flashing across his face before he realized you were merely teasing him. A sheepish grin spread across his features, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of blue under his fur.

"Oh, you little minx," he chuckled, reaching out to tickle your sides playfully. "Playing games with me, are we?"

Sylus's fingers danced along your ribs, finding every ticklish spot with uncanny precision. His laughter mingled with your own, the sound rich and warm, filling the room with a joyous atmosphere. As you squirmed and giggled beneath his ministrations, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you, marvelling at how easily you could bring such lightheartedness and happiness into his life.

As Sylus's fingers found their mark, you dissolved into a fit of giggles, squirming and writhing beneath his ticklish ministrations. The sound of your laughter filled the room, a melodious symphony that seemed to delight him to no end.

"You're right, I did say that earlier," He admitted with a roguish wink, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your ribs. "But that was before I experienced the true magic of your touch. Now, I can't get enough!"

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered conspiratorially, "Besides, it's much more fun to be the one being teased this time, isn't it?"

"I'll pull your tail." You threatened playfully, giggling uncontrollably.

Sylus's eyes widened at your threat, a mix of excitement and trepidation flickering across his features. For a moment, he seemed torn between the desire to continue his playful assault and the instinctive need to protect his most sensitive appendage.

"Now, now, kitten," He purred, his voice dropping an octave as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your sides. "There's no need for such drastic measures. We wouldn't want to start something we can't finish, would we?"

You simply giggled as he leaned down to kiss and suck on your neck, enjoying the peaceful moment with him as Sylus's lips trailed along the column of your throat, you couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of contentment. The sensation of his mouth on your skin was electric, sending pleasant shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to erupt across your flesh. His tongue darted out, lapping gently at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, leaving a trail of damp heat in its wake. You tilted your head to the side unconsciously, granting him better access as your fingers tangled in his silky hair.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

REMY!!! REMYYYYYY

"Beyond Misconceptions" is EXACTLY what I needed today oh my GOD my anxiety has been acting up and this was such a tonic 🥹

The fact that Joaquin is the kind of lover to truly and selflessly go "if you'd be better off with someone else, then I want that for you even though it would break my heart" but then he is so comforted I'M CRYING I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC SO MUCH

Also, bc you said requests are open, if it's not too much to ask... could we maybe get something where Joaquin is very serious about reader and wants to introduce her to Sam and has a convo w Sam about how he feels? Idk if that's too sappy ofc you don't have to im just swooning thinking about it 👀 - ips anon

Between Sips

about this: wc: 658, characters: joaquin torres, sam wilson (f!reader mentioned), contents: alcohol mention, canon typical injury, joaquin’s a simp, SAMBUCKY if you squint, an: hope u enjoy this my sweet love & as always thank you for your support! <3

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Joaquin stands up from his desk, walking across the room to plop down on Sam’s. “Hey, come get a drink with me.”

“Man, I’m going home. To bed. You see this?” Sam points to the sling his arm is in.

Joaquin raises a brow at him, “What if I add in pizza?”

“Dude—“

“I wanna tell you about my girl. Please?” He presses his palms together, pleading. 

“Oh now you wanna tell me about your girl? After I’ve got a couple of broken ribs?”

Joaquin tries to bite away his grin but can’t. “You getting the shit beat out of you kinda made me realize I want you to meet her.”

“Little shit— you’re getting me dessert too,” Sam grumbles, grabbing his bag and heading toward the door. 

“That late night cookie place is right across the street,” Joaquin calls after him.

—

Sam watches Joaquin fidget with a smirk on his face. He’s never really seen the man like this, he’s always overly confident. “So, you gonna stall until the food gets here to stall again or—“

Joaquin’s grip on his beer tightens as he gazes down into the amber liquid. “Nah, man. I just, I don’t know— I’ve never met anyone like her before.”

Sam sobers a little bit, realizing how serious Joaquin is. Sitting up, he leans in a little, curious.

“Tell me more.”

Joaquin takes a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “It was kinda random, y’know? One of those things where you meet someone and think, this person might change my damn life.”

Sam raises a skeptical brow, waiting.

“I met her on a mission—nothing crazy, just some intel work. She clocked me right away, which should’ve been my first clue she was special.” Joaquin huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. 

“She’s got this way of looking at me, like she already knows what I’m gonna say before I say it. And she’s funny, man. Not just funny—sharp. Quick with it. Keeps me on my toes. But she’s also… sweet. Kind in a way that doesn’t ask for anything back. And when I’m with her, it’s like—” He stops, searching for the words.

Sam tilts his head. “Like what?”

Joaquin’s grip tightens on the beer again. “Like I don’t have to be anyone but me.”

Sam lets out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Joaquin laughs, feeling a little shy. “Yeah. Damn.”

“Can I see her?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Joaquin fishes out his wallet, pulling out the photo booth film strip he keeps there. 

Four photos, all of them where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you— not when you were looking so angelic. Looking at the photo along with Sam makes him miss you more right now. 

“Oh, she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

“I…I would do anything for her. I think anything, for real.”

“Would she do the same?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Sam nods, taking a pull of his beer. “And have you told her yet?”

“Told her what?”

“That you’re in love with her.”

Joaquin’s cheeks warm. He scratches at the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “Was hoping you could give me some pointers?”

Sam sighs. “Maybe I can finally give you some after this weekend.”

“Finally gonna tell him, huh?”

“Yeah, I think it’s about time. He’s got a weekend off appearances, we don’t have a mission. I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, letting his eyes drift to the mounted tv screen playing an old sports game. 

“It’ll be perfect man. Just be yourself.”

Sam scoffs playfully, his eyes returning to Joaquin. “How’d you end up giving me pointers?”

Joaquin shimmies his shoulders. “Must be the natural leader in me.”

“Yeah, yeah. So when am I meeting her?”

“I don’t know, let me pull up our calendar,” Joaquin starts to type in his password, scrolling through the date. 

“Our calendar? As in your shared calendar with her?”

“Fuck off.”

Sam can’t stop laughing. “I can’t wait to tell Buck.”

lmk if you'd like to be on the sfw (or nsfw for 18+) joaquin taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @moonymeloncholymoney, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[elllisaaa]

desperately need you to make a jihoon version for bf thoughts huhu 😭😭😭

BF!JIHOON who sometimes gets lost in his own world, but you're always here to bring him back to reality, and he never fails to show you how grateful he is for you.

music takes such a huge part of his life, it's impossible for him not to involve you in all of this. he tried to keep it away at first - because it was work and he didn't want to annoy you. but as soon as you show him that you're interested in what he does, in how he produces his music, jihoon is more than happy to introduce you to his universe. he makes you sit on his lap while he explains to you how he creates his music step by step, and he feels both so shy and so proud whenever you tell him that he's talented or that he's a genius. it leads to him letting you spend a lot of time with him at the studio - jihoon loves to have you there because you're his main source of inspiration, and you love to be with him because it motivates you to work too. you're always the first one he shows a song to, because he values your thoughts a lot, the most important opinion is yours. jihoon has definitely written so many songs for you, or about you. one time, you listened to a song he wrote before the two of you even got together and you noticed that jihoon was talking about you. you always get emotional when he does music for you and your boyfriend melts inside everytime you listen to the songs he made for you.

"can you listen to this and tell me if you like it, jagiya ? i'm not sure about what i've done with the vocals but maybe your voice could be a cute addition, don't you think ?"

jihoon gets so sleepy around you. some would argue that it's because he often comes by after work or because his sleep schedule isn't the best, but he knows that it's much more than that - it's because you're his home, and when he learned that you tend to feel sleepy when you're with people you deeply trust and love, he was sure that you were the one. jihoon also loves it when you're the one falling asleep on him, be that on his lap, on his shoulder or against his chest, he will wrap his arms around you and caress your hair every time. he has so many pictures of you sound asleep in his arms that he cannot count them - it means that you're just as comfortable around him that he is around you, and it makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world. jihoon always gets shy when you decide to attack him with random marks of affection. it makes him blush like crazy, but he's so cute with his red cheeks that you can't help it and he's so in love with you that he doesn't stop you - plus he cannot deny how it makes his heart melt every time.

"you won't ever stop, right ?" - "never." - "good, i like it when you kiss my nose…"

he's very attentive to every detail about you and your habits. jihoon knows literally everything about you, and it's so soothing to feel this loved. he always makes sure that you feel included in every conversations, especially when you're spending time with his members. he knows that thirteen people can be a lot, so he always take care of you so that you feel heard and listened to. if you're talking about something and you stop mid sentence because you think no one he's listening, he makes sure to remind you that he always listens and he asks you to continue, fully focused on you. he loves, loves, loves when you do your nails - that he obviously pays for - and especially when they're very long because it feels so good when you scratch his back or his scalp with them. jihoon almost purrs like a cat when you do that, his eyes fluttering shut and he nuzzles his head in your neck. you love it so much when he gets so cuddly and soft, and jihoon loves to be babied by you sometimes.

"let's just stay like this for a little while, please ?"

BF!JIHOON who's sweet when he's with you, but who cannot hold back his possessiveness once the two of you are alone.

jihoon works on his muscles too much to not use them to his advantage. it all started when you began to compliment his muscles every time he came back from the gym. it fuels his ego, yes, but it also makes him hard in his shorts. to know that you find his strength attractive, to know that he could overpower you every second when you're playfully fighting, it drives him crazy. so now, everytime you piss him off, everytime you're being a brat, he's using his strength to manhandle you in every position he wants. the fact that he can do anything with your body is turning him on too. when he's fucking into you and not letting you cum, he grips your hips tightly to stop you from squirming around. when you're not allowed to touch him but you try either way, he pins your hands down to the mattress. when he's having you from behind, he holds your hips up and forces his cock into you no matter how much you moan and cry. jihoon loves to know that he's able to take over you so easily, loves to know that he can do whatever he wants from you and that you're gonna love it.

"you're not moving until i let you, you know that so why are you trying ?"

he's a producer, he loves people's voices and he loves to work with them. so it's no surprise that jihoon is addicted to the way your voice sound. he thinks it's soothing when he's stressed, and it's so sexy when he's fucking you. he loves how he can always tell how you're feeling by the sounds you're making. he drinks every noise you make - gasps, moans, wimpers, whines and mewls, he loves it all. that's the reason why he prefers to fuck behind closed doors, where he can make you scream his name without risking anyone hearing you, where he doesn't have to muffle your pretty moans that make him even harder. when you gasp and whine against his mouth when he's kissing you, he speeds up his thrusts, and when you wrap your arms around his neck and whimper against his ear, he has to squeeze your waist harder to not lose his mind. jihoon even goes as far as holding back his own moans to hear yours better. he loves your noises so much that he might put them in one of his songs, and he seriously considers releasing it, just to make it clear that you're his.

"that's it jagiya, let everyone know who's making you feel good… shit, i love your pretty moans so much."

one thing about jihoon is that he loves to hear you moan, yes, but he also likes when you're begging him, begging for him. when he's already fucking you rough and that you plead for him to go harder, it makes him lose his mind. he asks you to beg for virtually anything in bed - you want him to eat you out ? beg. you want him to fuck you from behind ? beg. you want to suck his cock ? you have to beg for it. jihoon will never admit it, but he kinda likes it too when you're teasing him in public by begging him for something simple but you both know he cannot help thinking about your words in another context. one thing he will never tell you either is that he thinks it's hot when you are the one making him beg sometimes. not gonna lie, it's not easy to get him there - you have to catch him on a day he's tired because then he lets you take care of him and ride him. but when he does beg for you, it's so attractive you just want to do it all over again. jihoon is shy about it though, and he still prefers when you're the one saying please and being putty in his hands.

"you want me to fuck you ? then you know what to say, uh ?" - "please, jihoon, please fuck me." - "that's right, good girl."