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ahhhwomen · 4 months

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The calm before the storm.

Vampire Empire

Part 7.1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Well... here it is. I changed the graphic parts, but it's still violent. This was supposed to be a hurt/comfort chapter, but it just turned into hurt, so I divided the chapter into two, this is the hurt part... and I will try my very best to make the next one a comfort... Writer block hit me like a truck with this one so please excuse bad writing...

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 3k

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Extreme violence, slightly explicit violence, talk of torture, scars, violence against a child

Taglist

(26 hours before the slaughter)

“Come on pretty girl, I know you can do it, keep your head above the water baby.” Gentle hands try to coax you, pushing against the back of your neck in an attempt to force your muscles into action.

It’s strange, the only other times you have been in the bath is when they were drowning you, perhaps you enjoy this more. It’s hard to tell, you can’t feel much of anything anymore.

Her grip loosens for a moment and your head lolls to the side, foamy bubbles collide with your left ear, the earlobe barely having made contact with the hot water before soft hands return with full force to catch you.

“Hmph.” A frustrated sigh gets drowned out by the insistent buzzing inside your mind. The sound consumes you from the inside, eating away any emotion that slipped past the initial reaping.

A creak slices through the still air as Natasha grits her teeth together, white bone clumsily gliding against itself, barely missing the inside of her cheek. She has been hunched over for the better part of half an hour, but she can do nothing but uncomfortably shift the pressure from one knee to the other, her hands occupied with you.

Wanda had insisted they set you into a routine. So, every night Natasha was tasked with bathing you, though you weren’t making it easy for her.

As her rolled-up sleeve dips into the water for the fourth time while she adjusts, Natasha debates yet again if she should call on Wanda for help, but as her eyes drift over your empty ones, she thinks better of it.

Guilt eats her alive as she works on finishing up your bath and tucking you in.

Three days ago (96 hours before the slaughter):

A wet washcloth is continuously dragged across your forehead as Wanda wipes the sweat away, her fingers follow the path of the moist trail as she feels your temperature and sighs in relief.

After two intense nights, your fever finally broke, but you had yet to wake up. She is just about to tuck you back in when her wife’s voice rings through the spacious room.

“How is she doing?”

Natasha leans against the doorframe while she watches her wife care for you. The wood digs into her shoulder blade, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her distance. As much as the younger redhead craved to be near you, she was cautious to interact with you when Wanda was there.

After the fever gave them quite a scare the day before, Natasha came just as close to losing her life as you. Wanda had fallen asleep with you clutched in her grip after an hour of settling your shaking frame from a nightmare. After a while, Natasha attempted to remove you from Wanda’s possession.

She was merely concerned about Wanda’s heated body irritating your flushed skin, but after almost losing an eye to a sleep-deprived redhead, she left the primal care to her other half.

Wanda hums, her fingers stroking your hair delicately as she kneels beside the plush guestroom bed. As she rakes through them, your hair strands lay clumped together, loosening them strand by strand she soothes herself.

“She needs a bath,” her fingers move from your hair to your face, gently tracing your features. When the pad of her pointer hits a sensitive spot beneath your jaw, you let out a breathy giggle in your sleep, and Wanda can’t help the lift of her lips into a pleased grin.

However, her smile is quickly wiped away as a familiar jingle of metal rattles against your throat as you shift in your slumber.

Natasha hummed her agreement, unaware of her wife’s fleeting attention.

The layers of filth that covered you had to be weeks, if not months, in the making. She was aware that you got a weekly hose down by the shelter, but depending on when Carol loaned you out, you could very easily have missed it.

“Should I get one started?”

With a huff, Wanda nods slowly. Her irritation radiates off of her as she looks you over.

Natasha tilts her head, at her wife’s strange reaction, her shirt gliding against her cheek. “Is there an issue?”

The older redhead looks down for a moment. The sheer uncomfortableness that settles within her very bones is not without reason. Her skin is cold with prickles and goosebumps. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous reaction, but the significance of what she is about to do is crucial to you, she knows that.

However, as the filth and stench of a certain blondie coats itself around the stark leather surrounding your neck, she knows it needs to be done.

She needs to remove your collar.

“Her collar. It needs to be removed.” The words are sneered, almost growled, as Wanda wills the uncertain into existence.

Natasha stiffens, her clothes which were perfectly fine a moment ago now feel disgusting against her soft skin, every stitch piecing it all together feel wrong and patchy.

A collar is a safety net in the power dynamic between a vampire and a pet. It’s always been a part of vampire tradition that the collar is a reminder of good faith. Removing the collar, without the owner’s specific request, means punishment.

If you wake up without your collar, you will never forgive them.

“I will do it.” With her head hung low, Natasha closes the distance between herself and you, crouching down beside her wife. Her knees creak as she sinks into position, her hands reaching toward you.

The sorrow that builds and sinks within her is laughable. They barley know you, and you definitely don’t know them, yet the pull between yourself and them is undeniable. In a lifetime of grief, Natasha was hoping it could symbolize a new beginning, a lifeline of sorts.

Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.

Just as her fingers struggle against the metal clasp, smaller, softer hands glide over her own and hold them gently.

“No.” The clan leader sighs out calmly.

Natasha furrows her brows in confusion.

“But-“

“No. I need to do this.” With a sad smile, Wanda removes her wife’s hands and holds them to her lips, “She likes you.” It was the simplified truth.

To be frank, Wanda scares you, she can tell by the way you never find peace around her, even while you are asleep. You wouldn’t trust either of them when you wake, but at the very least she could lessen the burden that will lay on her wife’s shoulders.

With her tail tucked between her legs, the younger girl nods silently and raises herself into a standing position. The loose thread beside her zipper takes over all of Natasha’s attention, she refuses to watch.

Wanda removes your collar in an almost medical procedure, leaning slightly over your tiny frame surrounded by plush pillows and warm blankets, she finds the point of no return and she places her fingers lightly against your skin as her fingers work on opening the clasp.

She knows immediately.

As soon as the back of her ring finger touches your neck.

She knows she will beat Carol Danvers until she is unrecognizable.

“Oh.”

The leather feels rough and scratchy as she clutches it in her grip while looking you over.

“So that’s why she is leased,” Wanda mumbles in a monotone voice.

That finally catches Natasha’s attention again. With a curious glance over Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha falls void of any emotion but one. Pure, unfiltered, hatred.

Back in the day, rouge vampires had a specific way of marking their property.

They called it The Noose of Misery. A name bound in irony, a mockery, as they scarcely felt sorry for this sort of thing.

It was deemed a form of entertainment.

The noose of misery; was to slit your victim’s throat repeatedly, leaving gruesome slashes through thin skin. The first slice was always the same, they would cut the vocal cords. It wasn’t precise, nor pretty, it was merely a rouge slash against vulnerable anatomy.

Due to this, they would often miss their target.

Which would prompt them to hold down their victims until they were satisfied, it wasn’t hard to tell when they succeeded as their victims would fall silent. Or a form of silence as they attempt to refrain from drowning in their own bodily fluids.

The vampires found it most entertaining when their prey ran around like headless chickens, choking and gurgling on their blood, trying their best to scream for help.

Despite the intensity of this game, their food would rarely pass away from it.

A vampire’s blood has a certain healing ability, and contrary to popular belief, drinking the blood of a vampire does not turn you into one. Only a clan leader could sire a new vamp.

So, the youngsters would often find new and innovative ways to watch their victim suffer, and only when the life seeped out of their eyes like the blood did their body, then and only then would the vampires slash their wrists and force it down their preys partially slit throats.

However, even with its healing ability, the blood of a vampire is considered poison. The pain that would sear through you after consumption has often been compared to being burned alive.

That never stopped them.

The ritual would be repeated until the owner was satisfied. Then the last round of slashes would be healed with a singular drop of blood, enough to keep them hanging on by a thread, but no more than that.

When the nasty gashes healed to raised scars, it would be proof of ownership.

In 1898, The Noose of Misery was banned across all clans.

Wanda Maximoff made sure of it.

Yet, there were always those select few that never listened.

Given the scarring, you couldn’t have been older than nine.

Nine?

Nine…

Nine.

There is an audible *click* as two sets of sharpened canines force themselves present as the two redheads look down at the horror.

There was a difference with yours; the first slash was precise and professional, cut right through the vocal cords. It was a given who ordered it to be done, but it was clear she was not the one to do it.

Or rather, she was not the one to do the first slice.

That also explained why you were a less permanent commitment to the shelter. It must have taken place during the trial.

There is a trial period when it comes to buying pets. Some test them for a week, others for a year, it all depends on the customer and how much money they are willing to pay. If they deem the pet unfit, they can return them for half price.

However, shelters and kennels alike have a strict policy against marking their brand. If the pet is marked before being sold, the responsible party is banned from buying said pet, and they have to pay a heavy compensation.

That whore must have paid half a fortune to make up for what she did to you.

Leased pets are damaged goods.

They will never be bought.

Anger crawls like ants within the older redhead.

“And so, the war begins.”

Her expression is blank as she speaks clearly. The anger within her digs in deeper until it mends with her very being. She means every word of it.

Just as the last syllable was worded out, Wanda looked down to see your scared eyes staring right back at her.

There is no telling how long you have been awake while Wanda was preoccupied with staring down at the scars, willing them to dissipate before her very eyes.

With a sigh, Wanda pats your head one last time before you cower away from her touch.

It hurt, but she knew what would happen once your only line of defense was taken away from you. The redhead stares down at the collar held firmly within her hands. She wished she was stronger, that she could return it to you and pretend as if she never knew.

But as you both glue your eyes to leather almost as old as you, the ants turn into giants, a soundly crack can be heard as the dirty material is ripped into pieces right before you.

And with it, you too fall into a disarray of pieces that will never fit back together.

That collar was all you had.

It was all you were.

Without it…

You are nothing.

Nothing but hers.

“Romanoff.” A chill runs down Natasha’s spine at the tone of her wife’s calling.

“Contact the Thor clan and inform them that they have 96 hours to give over Carol Danvers or I will kill them all.”

The command was said so bluntly Natasha could hardly believe her ears. But as she looks over to Wanda’s hunched frame, her nose snarled and her eyes a dangerous glowing red, she breaks out of her trance and excuses herself.

She can comfort you later, but there won’t be a later if she does not obey her wife.

Current time (24 hours before the slaughter):

Wanda has woken up screaming in terror many times in her lifetime. It’s not easy to live as long as she has, to see what she has seen. The same horror burdens Natasha.

So, the older redhead has lost count of the timeless times her slowly beating heart has broken at the sight of her wife crying and screaming in her sleep.

There was nothing more painful.

Or so she thought.

What she could never imagine was how it would make her feel to watch someone attempt to sob their long overdue sorrows, only for them to flail and choke against their own vocal cords silently. Nothing but weak gasps and hoars coughs, the sound itself making her wince in pity.

Breathing through her nose slowly, Wanda has to close her eyes to collect herself before turning toward her wife, who carries an expression not far from her own. With her lip peeled back and her eyes narrowed, Natasha cringes at the sound of your tiny frame fighting the bedsheets.

As her eyes glue themselves to the nanny cam, she set up on their bedside table, Wanda thinks of what limb to start with.

Carol seems awfully attached to those claws of hers…

She is quickly brought back to the present time when a loud gasp emits from the speakers, followed by a heavy thud as you fall off the king-sized bed.

Wanda is on her feet and halfway down the hallway before Natasha can get a word out.

You saw more of the ceiling that night than you did the floor.

Your hands swipe against empty air. The sounds around you are like a cold hollow inside an unexplored cave. Nothing but echoes of lies surround you as you desperately try to grasp the situation in a literal sense. Like a zombie, you growl and groan as your hands seek the source of your misery.

You can’t see her. With your neck split in half, you would have to use both hands to hold your head up.

However, it doesn’t hurt.

Not yet.

So, you fight.

You are far shorter than them, Master is almost double your height, and the other lady isn’t much shorter. If you could just get closer, your hardened hands may be able to grasp them and beg for forgiveness. You can’t really talk though…

The side of your vision darkens as the blood gushes and pools beneath your feet. You can’t see it, but you feel it, it’s like ice pouring down your body.

Streams like rivers, split and thicken into canals, as they cascade down your stomach and glide down your thighs.

Like a switch-

A sneaking wave hits you, suddenly the adrenaline is gone, and the crash is horrendous.

Your knees crash into the floor, your body following behind shortly. The weight of your own body fights against you as you attempt to push yourself upward. With your hands grasping and slipping against amber liquid, your elbows give out under the pressure, and you fall into a heap.

Cracks of a weak child’s bones bounce off the wall as you lay defeated.

Soon, your mind and body become self-aware of your soon-to-be decapitated head, and you can do nothing but gasp and flop like a fish out of water.

It’s really scary.

The small hands of a nine-year-old child claw and paw at the cold floor as two adult women watch for the fourth time that night as a young pet watches Death seek her out.

They break your jaw open, then a wrist is forced into your mouth.

You are scared.

The blood hurts.

It hurts a lot.

“Again.”

“Aga-“

*GASP*

On the other side of town (96 hours before the slaughter):

Carol learned at a very young age that vampires like Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff think they are invisible. And they were, not a single creature, human, vampire, or otherwise, ever came close to breaking them.

Weren’t you just full of surprises.

A puff of smoke surrounds the blond woman as she leans against the truck. With one leg crossed over the other, her pants rustle against each other as she swishes lightly to one side.

Men and women alike continue to shout and argue in the back as they finish loading up their gear.

Just as she flicks the cigarette to the ground and her boot crunches it against the pavement, her phone chimes.

BabyBoss:

You have 96 hours to give yourself over to the Maximoff clan or I will personally slaughter your entire hometown. Including your fucking childhood dog.

Read 2:13 am

Rolling her eyes, a chuckle builds up within her.

God, you really are full of surprises.

“You ready boss?” A gruff man in his late thirties asks her as she walks over to the back of the truck.

Throwing in her own bag she nods. “Lead the way.”

21 hours. 54 near deaths. 198 slashes. 32 scars.

Nine years old.

(This chapter really wasn't written well, I'm sorry.)

Taglist:

@thinking1bee, @tobiaslut, @esmeseasle, @skittlebum, @tia-thesimp, @maximilfsworld, @leenasayeed, @scarlethexelove, @itsalwaysskorpioszn, @observeowl, @tekanparadiae, @adelareys, @anqyuicka, @ichala, @thalia-is-not-ok, @lovelyy-moonlight, @wandamaximoff-simp, @opossumking03, @confidant-thoughts, @delivery-bird, @esouliie, @geydumbbetch, @dorabledewdroop, @mousetheorist, @herwagonempathkid, @mommysfavouritegirl, @auroraromaximoff, @roman0ffsheart, @morganna-la-faye, @kaosrsing, @marvelwomenarehot0, @lizzieswife101, @og-kxsh-420, @chibilauren, @sgm616, @cyber-juipter, @falloutboy-lover, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @likefirenrain, @cole2907, @rahhhha, @taliiiaasteria, @dehydratedcoffeeaddict, @viktoriaromanovaa, @julz2000, @ahintofchaos, @consti-ss, @broimjustadepressedlesbian, @rowiebear, @crispychaosmaker, @mary-20, @romanoff101, @alexawynters, @dinno-nuggets, @riddlesknot

(Does it work when I tag yall like this?)

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #dark!wandanat #vampire empire

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loveharlow · 5 months

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SEVEN [THE INBETWEEN] - P4L

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[3k] Two weeks since John B and Sarah have been gone and the pogues decide it's time for a proper memorial to say goodbye, but an impulsive gesture leaves two of the four remaining pogues heads spinning.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, unestablished relationship/unrequited love (Pope x Kiara), mentions of child abuse/neglect, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ This is where things get a little tricky. Also, tumblr decided to kick me out of my mf account so thats why this is like 2 days late instead of one, I DID NOT LIE TO YALL😭 and sorry if this chapter moves a little fast

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“RISE AND SHINE, BLONDIE.” You whispered in the sleeping boy’s ear. JJ immediately slapped a harsh palm over his ear, effectively slapping himself and waking himself up, groaning in pain as you stood by giggling.

“Fuck you.” He mumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he sat up, Marley emerging next to him from under the covers. You tilted your head at the dog, scoffing.

“You do know that is my dog, right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at a sleepy-eyed JJ who simply looked at the animal over his shoulder before turning back to you and shrugging with a sly smile on his face.

“Not anymore. Her real owner gives her bacon and she loves it.” He retorted, throwing an arm over Marley and pulling her into his side as he rubbed the top of her head. “Ain’t that right, girl?”

You rolled your eyes, your bare feet patting against the hardwood floors of The Chateau as you left the room, calling over your shoulder. “Then her real owner can clean up the aftermath when she vomits it out because she refuses to chew.” You reprimanded playfully, sliding your slippers onto your feet that were sat by the front door. “I’m gonna clean up a bit. Pope and Kie should be here soon. And I bought more cereal, it’s above the fridge.” You called out before going out onto the porch, letting the door shut behind you, the screen rattling.

Today marked two weeks since John B and Sarah disappeared.

Pope and Kiara had finally made time in their schedules to do a proper send off. Not that you blamed them — Kiara’s parents wanted her as far away from the pogues as possible, with you being a semi-exception. They’d swamped her with work after school at The Wreck, working from the time school ended until the street lights came on. The weekends were no different, with the addition of taking the car away, only allowing her to drive it on the weekdays to and from school.

Heyward had Pope doing grocery run after grocery run, as well catching some of the seafood supply himself. Pope didn’t mind though, he was working on repairing his relationship with his parents after everything that happened. Things seemed to be looking up, Heyward didn’t scowl when you all came around anymore and his mother started to greet you all again. They were easing up on the restrictions, too — allowing Pope to drive the car again and be out past ten.

You and JJ had been managing — he was taking small, odd jobs here and there. Mowing lawns, fixing cars just to keep the lights on and the water running. You did what you could — sneaking into your house, only once or twice, to take some necessities and things to sell. You’d managed to pawn off a good chunk of your mother’s jewelry and some things you didn’t need anymore. It was enough to keep you both fed and clean.

Life was starting to seem okay again. It didn’t seem like there was such a large storm cloud over you and your friends anymore. Now, you just all felt an emptiness when you were together, which was probably why you weren’t together as much anymore.

School was…well, school. You and JJ hadn’t been since it happened. No adults to force you to go, right? Pope and Kie had been a few times, but their parents allowed them some time to themselves occasionally.

Despite everything, today was the first day you all would be hanging out as a full group again. The Chateau always looked a mess but admittedly, you and JJ hadn’t been helping the place to look any better. The porch was littered with beer bottles, soda cans, snack wrappers. Things that had been piling up from your late night talks.

Grabbing a plastic bag, you started gathering all of the trash and throwing it inside, the space already looking better.

“SO, HOW ARE WE DOING THIS EXACTLY?” Kiara asked, hands in her pockets as she stood in front of the big tree, next to Pope. The sun was starting to set, casting a low, orange hue over the backyard.

She and Pope had arrived not too long ago, the gathering not being as lively as it used to be. Less smiles, less laughs. There was small talk and a few jokes here and there but it just seemed so forced, as if no one wanted to say “let’s just get this over with”.

The group had been divided, although none of you would admit it aloud. It seemed as if Pope and Kiara did their thing, while you and JJ did yours.

“We could just carve it. Might take a while, though…” Pope pitched, rubbing his hands over the top of his head and shifting his weight.

“I mean, we got all day.” JJ shrugged simply, adjusting the baseball cap on his head. “I say we carve this baby up.” He shrugged, hiking up the toolbox in his hand, the metal objects inside rattling, and walking to the forefront of the group. You walked up beside him, looking up with your hands in your back pockets. “Care to do the honors?” He smiled down at you, flicking out a pocket knife in your direction.

Taking the object from his hand, you faced the large, loud live oak tree and began carving the initials of your fallen friend into the wood.

THREE HOURS AND TWO BEERS LATER AND THE TREE WAS CARVED AND BRANDED. A tan-colored, heart-shaped splotch in the center.

2003 2020

JOHN B ROUTLEDGE

P4L

After you’d finished carving, JJ had done the honors of engraving the words with a heated piece of metal, burning the words forever into the oak. The four of you raised a beer to John B, hoping that he could feel you wherever he was.

You’d branched off afterwards, something that never happened before but you’d grown accustomed to the odd dynamic between the group now. You all tried your hardest to ignore it or remedy it but it was useless.

Pope was sitting on a log, staring at the fire JJ had started. JJ was swinging in the hammock as you made your way over to Kiara, who was sitting on the steps of The Chateau.

“Hey. You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to the girl as she took a sip of her beer, humming in response.

“As alright as I can be, I guess.” She replied almost despondently. You were all grieving in your own ways but something about Kiara’s grief didn’t seem like grief. It was like she was dealing with some other conflicting emotions on top of it all. “You and JJ have been keeping this place up, huh? I can actually see wood on the floor.” She joked lightly.

You chuckled in response. “Yeah... yeah, we’re trying. The place is one kick away from collapsing but it’s a home, nonetheless.”

“Have you been home? Since…” You nodded your head at the girl’s question, staring down at your sneakers.

“...Once or twice just to steal some shit to pawn off. I don’t really care for anything in that house anymore. Or anyone…” Kiara simply drew her lips into a thin line, nodding silently with no clue as to how to continue the conversation. So, you took the initiative for her. “How’ve you been? With your parents? Pope?”

She just grimaced and shrugged, playing with the rim of the open beer bottle. “They’re... going, I suppose. My parents don’t even know I’m here right now. If they did…” She trailed off, scoffing. “And Pope, I don’t know. He’s sweet, he’s just not…” She trailed off once again, but this time it was like she knew what she wanted to say but it was almost as if she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. She seemed weary, hesitant — eyes fleeting between your own and the blades of grass beneath her feet. “Whatever. Forget it. Me and Pope are figuring it out, I guess. I’m trying to give it a chance.”

“That’s good.” You smiled smally, nodding absentmindedly. “If it helps, he really does like you. So, even if you two don’t work out, just let him down easy. He’s our friend and a really good guy.” She simply nodded, taking another swig of her beverage and looking out into the distance. Suddenly, she was standing from the steps, hands on her knees.

“I’m gonna go get another beer...” She sighed before walking back inside.

Maybe you were reading too much into it but Kiara’s grief was seeming more like a cold shoulder...

“YOU WARM ENOUGH, POPE?” You inquired, sitting next to the boy on the log, him shooting you a small smile before returning his gaze to the flames in front of him. The fire casting an amber glow over his skin, making his eyes seem browner, almost softer.

“Yeah, a little too hot.” He chuckled lightly, leaning back further onto the wooden seat, placing his hands behind him for support. “...I meant to ask, is JJ okay? Like, actually?” He asked with a bit of hesitance, eyeing the blonde swaying calmly on the hammock. You followed his sights, spotting JJ swaying lowly before turning back to Pope.

“He’s…doing better than I expected. But that goes for all of us, I suppose.” You offered honestly. “Why’d you ask?” You questioned, to which Pope shrugged one shoulder before replying.

“I know John B was a really big part of his life. If I was as close as those two, I don’t know how I’d feel. I know we haven’t been around much, Kie and I, but he just seems…too calm.” You didn’t know how to tell Pope that JJ was far from fine. That you’d hear him crying at night, muffled as he tried to wake you not knowing that you couldn’t sleep knowing he was outside the door crying and you couldn’t do anything to comfort him.

You’d tried asking him about it yourself. He simply acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about and you weren't one to push him. Not now, at least.

“He’s handling it all in his own way.” You reassured with mild uncertainty. “But I’ll keep an eye on him. How are you, though?”

The boy drew his lips into a thin line, tilting his head to the side in thought before shrugging and looking out at the fire in front of him. “I…don’t know.” He struggled out, almost as if he wasn’t completely sure of the words but also unsure if he was truly unsure. His brown eyes met yours, slightly glassed over with frustrated tears. “I really just don’t know.”

You gave him a pitiful smile before scooting closer and throwing your arm over his shoulders. The two of you sat in warm, content silence. In all your time of knowing Pope, he was never either fully closed off or openly emotional. He was the definition of a ticking time bomb — bottling everything up until he reached a certain breaking point. But this time, you’d figured he’d had all the meltdowns he could.

AS YOU APPROACHED THE HAMMOCK, another figure became clear next to JJ’s — Marley curled up in a sleeping ball of fur next to the blonde. You chuckled under your breath at the sight, nudging the swing with your knee to prompt JJ to open his eyes. The boy peeked one eye open before the other, eyes fleeting the yard at Pope and Kiara’s frames talking at the bonfire before returning to yours.

You took a seat on the grass in front of the hammock, looking up at JJ as he made the small effort to turn on his side to look down at you without disturbing the peaceful animal beside him.

“Done being the group therapist?” He yawned, pushing the blonde locs of hair out of his face. You simply shrugged, rubbing a hand across your forehead.

“Yeah, my office is closed.” You sighed, leaning back on your palms — small pebbles and mulch chips digging into them but you were too tired to care. “But you know I’m always willing to listen for you.” You said playfully, shooting the blonde a wink. He giggled in response, leaning forward in the hammock with one hand clutching it for support.

“You promised no pushing.” He mumbled sleepily.

“I’m not pushing.” You assured, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I’m just... politely suggesting that you open up to your best friend, is all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to pick at your nails.

“Right...how about we do a little switch-a-roo then, hm?” He threw out, shifting around once more in the hammock, eyes piercing yours. “How have you been? With everything. Bree, your mom…” He trailed off, eyes never leaving yours even though you avoided eye contact the moment he started listing issues. “I mean, The Chateau is nothing compared to your beachfront palace in Kooklandia. You gotta miss it sometimes. You’re telling me you never think about goin' home?”

You snarled, shrugging off his statement. “This is my home.” You declared, drifting your eyes upwards to connect with his, the amber glow of the bonfire making his eyes appear more green-toned than blue. “I never wanted to move to Figure Eight in the first place. I didn’t care about the ocean view or the fact that our living room and kitchen didn’t have to be one room anymore.” You explained, drawing shapes into the dirt. “I feel safe here.” You muttered. “I feel safer with you guys...”

He simply hummed and nodded in agreement. “I get that.” He sighed. “I feel the same about my house. I don’t really care that all my shit is there and that I have to sneak back and forth to get what I need. My dad… he makes me hate that house. And I hate myself for being able to hate the house because of him but not being able to hate him.”

“He’s your dad, though. It’s understandable. You feel like you should love him no matter what.”

“...Do you hate your mom?” You paused your drawing in the dirt to peer up at JJ through your lashes, his eyes wide and wondering. The question caused you to feel a way you’d never felt before. It was such a loaded question and even with everything that happened, you figured the answer should be easy but...it wasn’t. Saying that you hated your mother felt like venom on your tongue. Even if you knew you had every right to say that you did.

“No.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears. “But, it’s like, I don’t love her either. I just…don’t recognize her anymore. In my eyes, she’s not my mother. But in my heart, she is and always will be. And I hate that.”

The two of you fell into silence after that, the only sound being cicadas and crickets. You directed your gaze up to the sky, counting the stars and silently acknowledging constellations while JJ kicked one leg out to swing the hammock gently as he stared up as well.

You figured the conversation ended there. It was getting late and you’d scored a babysitting gig for tomorrow that was paying good money. So, you figured heading to bed now was ideal because being late wasn't. You sighed, hands slapping your knees as you stood up with a groan, stretching as JJ’s eyes drifted to your frame.

“Well, I think my social battery has officially died.” You yawned, stepping closer to the blonde to ruffle his fluffy head of hair. “Night, blond-” You didn’t get the chance to finish your sentence before JJ’s hand was wrapping itself around your wrist, pulling you down until your faces were just centimeters apart, him taking the opportunity to connect your lips with his, placing his free hand on the nape of your neck.

Your eyes went impossibly wide as the blonde pressed his lips to yours firmly, his eyes closed blissfully. A normal, friendly reaction would be to push him away, to say that you shouldn’t be doing this. But the way he was kissing you..

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

From the way his fingers dug into your skin to the amount of force he was using to hold you in place.

Something in you suddenly relaxed, allowing you to close your own eyes and move your lips to kiss him back. Your lips moved in perfect sync with his for the moment. But you figured it would be nothing but. This was JJ, your best friend. He knew you like the back of his-

Oh. Oh, God. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing JJ.

You pulled back so fast you nearly stumbled over your own feet, head whipping around in panic to find Kie and Pope still engulfed in their own conversation before turning back to the starstruck blonde in front you. His hair was messy and his lips were swollen with a deep shade of red blooming within the lower one. His own blue eyes were wide but you didn’t know for what reason.

You just looked at each other with an unknown expression. Terror? Confusion?

Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, panting in panic. Your heart was beating wildly out of your chest prompting you to adjust the neckline of your top away from your throat, the material suddenly feeling constricting.

You didn’t know what else to do so you did the only thing you could do.

Swallowing harshly and touching your aching, wet lips, you swiftly walked off in the direction of The Chateau. The last thing you heard was JJ call out your name one, heart aching time before the door of The Chateau closed behind you.

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me-loving-woso · 1 year

Text

The Aftermath

Hello Tumblr and Hello readers.

This is Part 3 of Monthly visits. I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already working on Part 4, so hopefully you won’t have to wait that much. Does this part end in a cliffhanger? Yes. Am I sorry about it? No.

Let me know if I should continue this series. Hope you enjoy this!

The past few days have been incredibly challenging for you. Ava's room was finally finished, so you had to help her move to the room and Lucia finally decided to join La Masia, so you went with her to sign the contract.

Things with Alexia have been really in a weird place. You still remember vividly your conversation with her that day after she called for a break.

"So you want a break from me or the kids?" You ask, nearly crying, changing your position on the bed to sitting, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, okay! These past few weeks have been overwhelming; I thought I could handle it. Then, Mom began talking about holidays and Christmas, and I guess I didn't think about it before? I don't know, it feels like my life has been changing so much, and I can't keep up anymore." She says clearly, in a very anxious state. "And above all of this, there is the World Cup, and I have all this pressure put on me, and I just want to disappear." She gets out sobbing, making your heartbreak.

"Hey, hey, look at me." You gently take her face, turning it to you, wiping away her tears. "Since when has this been going on?"

"Since I got called up for the World Cup."

"So two months ago." You say more to yourself. "Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"You had already been dealing with your problems; I didn't want to add to anything."

"You are not a problem to me, okay? If you are happy, I am happy. If you are sad, I am sad. Whatever you need, I'll always be with you. I love you. And I know I don't say it much, but I probably should have. I love you." You began leaving small kisses on her face, trying to kiss away the tears, "What do you need?"

"I need not feel so broken and out of control of my feelings." She says, keeping her gaze down.

"It's alright to feel broken every once in a while, and it's alright to feel out of control. If you need time, I can give it to you. I'd rather lose you for a while than for the rest of my life. I'd wait a thousand lifetimes for you because you are worth waiting for. So when you are ready. I'll be right here." Your eyes start to water, too, as you understand what this entails. You shift on your bed, hugging her.

"I love you so much, Alexia. I don't know what I would do without you. You really changed my life for the better. You are the love of my life. The only person I imagine spending my life with. And I swear to God, or whatever is up there, that one day I'm going to marry you, and I'll finally feel like I deserve your love."

"You know, you never said that."

"What?"

"That you wanted to marry me." She smiles shyly, keeping her head on your shoulder, hiding in the crook of your neck.

"Of course I do. I can't wait to be your wife and call you that." You pause, taking a deep breath, making her move her head to look at you. "But before that, you must focus on yourself and be good and happy. I want a happy wife, okay? Not the depressed ones you see in the movies that drink an absurd amount of wine and pass out. I want you to be happy. And if, eventually, I am not part of that happiness, I still want to see you happy." She nods, giving you a light kiss on your hand. "I want you to have fun at the World Cup and kick ass, okay? If you ever need me, I'm a phone call away."

That night was the last time you saw her. You told yourself you wouldn't call or look at her Instagram; it would be too painful. So you decided to distract yourself, of course, still having as first priority the kids.

The first thing you did was go to the pitch. You decided to take Lucia and Ava with you, the older girl was about to start the season in Barcelona B, and you couldn't be happier for her.

You were practicing free kicks and penalties. You and Lucia were in a clear competition while Ava was just there having fun with the ball. After a while, Ava got bored, so she decided to stay on the sidelines in the shadow playing some games on your phone, which left you and Lucia on the pitch.

"Where is Alexia, by the way? I haven't seen her all morning." She asks out of the blue, catching you off guard.

"She left for the World Cup." You reply coldly, quickly passing the ball from one foot to the other, then shooting hard to the goal post, scoring a top bin.

"Aren't they leaving in like two days?" She replies, clearly not getting the point.

"Aren't you asking a lot of questions?" You glare at her, then realize that your tone slightly hurt Lucia. "I'm really sorry, Lucia. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"No problem, I'm used to it anyways." She rolls her eyes, closing off, then walks away.

You were feeling guilty; you really didn't want to hurt her feeling, so you told her the truth, "She left."

"What?" She turns around, looking at you.

You take a deep breath, "She left me."

"Wait, what? You broke up?" She says, shocked at the revelation, fully turning her body to you, taking a step towards you.

"I don't know. I'm sorry I snapped at you; you took me off guard with the question, and I still haven't fully processed it."

"It's okay. I just overreacted." She pauses. "I'm really sorry about Alexia. Do you need a hug?" She asks awkwardly.

You chuckle. "No. It's better not. If you will, I'll start crying. And I am an ugly crier, especially when it comes to Alexia. And I don't think none of us want to experience that."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I will be." You release a shaky exhale. "Now, let's go back home. Ava here is getting too bored." You wrap your arm around Lucia's shoulder and take her to her sister.

As you get back home, you decide to go and take a shower, and there you silently cry until no tears are left. You then change into something comfy and go outside to your garden, trying to get some fresh air, and for the first time during the day, you check your phone. There were multiple missed calls from Alba and one from one of your best friends, Mapi. You knew that you had to call back both women, so you opted to go first with Alba. You knew it would be a sad call and hoped that calling Mapi after would cheer you up.

Spoiler Alert: It didn’t.

You take a deep breath and call Alba; she almost immediately picks up.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Alba asks almost immediately, quite sadly. You really didn't want her to pity you.

"You already know the answer, Alba." You smile sadly, "How is she?" You couldn't not ask about her; even though you tried to keep some distance, you still wanted to know how she was doing.

"She is miserable and guilty but knows she must focus on herself now."

"Did you tell her she doesn't have to feel guilty?"

“Y/n.” She replies sternly. "She might be my sister, but that doesn't mean I must agree with everything she does."

"Alba, we know how your sister deals with the pressure and anxiety. Alexia has always been very sensitive. She doesn't deal well with that kind of thing; when she was younger, she had her father and football that kept her going on and deal with the pressure. Now she only has football. You can't take that away from her."

"But she can take you out of her life?"

"That is an unfair question." You clench your jaw, trying to keep at bay your own feelings.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry."

"Just know that I only want what is best for your sister, and if she really wants to, she will return; I really hope she will."

"She will." She says a little too sternly. "Or else she won't hear the end of it from me and Mom."

"Just please, stay with her, support her, and care for her. She needs it now more than ever for this World Cup."

You soon end the call after that, and after taking a minute to ground yourself, you call your best friend. She, too, picks up very quickly.

“Y/N!” She screams in your ear excitedly, .

"How was Norway? Did you already come back? Are you already in Barcelona?" You reply as excited as you can, given the circumstances.

"Norway isn't that bad; I missed Barcelona though; Ingrid made it worth it. How are you? How's Alexia?" You could feel her smile through the phone.

"Mapi, you have been away for a month; I have some news to share, big news, actually."

"Oh my God, did you get engaged?" She replies excitedly; without making your reply, she continues, "Oh my God, I'm so happy for you guys! And yes, of course, I will be your maid of honor, and yes, of course, I already planned your bachelorette par-"

"Maria calmate, I didn't get engaged." You reply sadly while feeling utterly sick to your stomach from the sadness of the situation.

"Then what is the big news to share?"

"I think I need to tell you in person about it."

"Oh, you can't leave me hanging like that!"

"Come over, and I'll tell you." You say, nearly reaching your point of total exasperation, you knew she wouldn't budge, but you also knew it was best to tell her in person that you have children now.

"A small hint?"

Losing your patience from your long day, you went straight to the point, "I adopted two children, and Alexia and I are on a break." You say, feeling a knot closing your throat.

"Ha ha, a good joke; tell me the truth."

"Mapi, I'm not joking." You say while your voice is wavering. She never heard you cry.

"I'm coming over." With that, she closes the call leaving you with a small tear running down your cheek.

You go inside and find the two girls watching something on TV.

"So girls, change of plans; a friend of mine is coming over, so you will meet them."

"Is it someone from the team?" Lucia asks.

You nod, "Guess."

"I know you are friends with Mapi; is it her?" Ava says excitedly.

"Yes, it is her, but that doesn't change anything. Bedtime is always at the same time."

"But-"She tries to find an excuse, but you interrupt her, "No buts, you will definitely see more of her, so don't worry." She lightly pouts, reminding you of Alexia and how she uses the same facial expression.

When you hear the doorbell ring, you open the door, finding your best friend in front of you for the first time in a month. You share a hug, then she asks, "So what happened? What is all this about?" Trying to make sense of what you said in the phone call. "Or was this a way to make me come over?" She gives you a mischievous smirk.

"Even though I missed you, it's not. I'll let you meet the kids, and we can talk later, okay?"

"So it wasn't a joke?" You shake your head, annoyed, "Then this 'talk' will take a while.”

She enters your home and makes her meet the girls. In the beginning, Ava was very shy, hiding a little behind you. But, as soon as Mapi began asking for her attention, she gladly gave it to her. Whereas Lucia was trying to keep it cool.

Your teammate, in the meantime, was giving the older girl a weird look as if she was trying to remember something.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" She asks, mostly rhetorically. Your friend had a memory of steel. "Wait, you were the girl that won the meet and greet."

Lucia shyly nods.

"I remember you because you were the first kid I met after joining Barcelona. You were so excited to meet your favorite players. But then, when you found out that Alexia and Y/n weren't there, you were so sad." She chuckled. "You must be happy living with your favorite player now." She says while looking at her smirking and then glancing at you.

"Oh yeah, they never shut up about Alexia. It's so annoying." You chuckle, crossing your arms, looking at both girls as if you unveiled one of their secrets.

"Oh no, if I'm not wrong, Alexia wasn't your favorite player," You could see Lucia changing expression in one instance, trying to communicate with Mapi to stop talking, she was shaking her head, widening her eyes. She was embarrassed, and you could see it from miles away. "Your favorite player was Y/n Y/ln." She chuckles.

You turn around facing her, utterly shocked, wearing a proud smirk.

"She couldn't stop talking about how much she loved to see you play and how she couldn't wait for you to win the Champions League. It was quite cute, actually."

"Now. Now. Lucia. Now that I have this information, you know you'll never hear the end of it, right?" You chuckle a little, making the girl slightly blush from the embarrassment but quickly recovering.

"You really had to say it?" Lucia asks Mapi, shaking her head.

"Of course she did! Do you want an autograph?" You joke.

"Oh my God! Stop it!" She says, smiling, clearly not enjoying your teasing.

"Lucia, pay some respect to your favorite player!" Mapi retorts, then she bursts out laughing.

"Yeah, Lucia! Pay some respect. In this household, we don't condone this disrespect, especially when talking about your idols." You finish the teasing while she rolls her eyes, "Moving on, who's up for some food?" You ask, turning to the three girls around you.

You decided to order pizza again; you really had to begin doing some serious grocery shopping.

You were so happy that your best friend met the two girls that you loved so much, and you were even more delighted when you saw that they got along great; it was nearly perfect. Only a person missed for it to be perfect.

That night you played games together, and when it was time to go to bed, Ava apprehensively went to bed after some convincing.

"I think I'm going to bed, too," Lucia said soon after her sister left for her room.

"You know you don't have to; if you want, you can stay with us." You offer.

"Nah, don't worry. I'm tired, and I have some episodes that I have to catch up with." She says, heading to her room. "Goodnight!" She says, while you and Mapi reply in the same way.

After a month of not seeing each other, you were left alone with your best friend.

"So, the girls are great!" She says, clearly trying to begin all the explanations you had to give her.

"Before I begin explaining everything, I need a drink." You go to your kitchen, open the first bottle of wine, and then go outside with your friend.

You sit at the table, basically downing your glass of wine. You took a deep breath then you began explaining everything to her. First, how you met the kids and what made you adopt them, then you talked about what happened with Alexia, reserving some of the most private details.

"She told me she needed a break because she was getting too overwhelmed, and of course, I let her."

"She's an idiot. She'll come to her senses, believe me. You and her work so well together; it's almost annoying. I don't think I could ever see you guys break up." You knew that she would be sad about Alexia leaving you, as she was the person that indirectly put you two together in the first place.

"Me too. But I guess nothing good ever works out perfectly." You reply sadly, looking at your glass of wine just poured. "I even bought a ring; I would propose after the World Cup. I had everything planned. Our honeymoon, the wedding date, everything. I'm so delusional." You realize, sadly.

"Hey, hey, Y/n, you are not delusional." She reassures you, taking your hand. You look up at her with glassy eyes, looking at her skeptically. "She wants the same things as you do. It might not seem like it right now, but you'll have your happy ending in the future."

"You know what I hate about all of this? The fact I still don't know what made her decide to want to leave me. Is it me? The kids? She said she couldn't deal with the constant pressure anymore, but what made her change her mind about me? Fuck! Am I not enough? In those three years that we've been together, we've gone through so much, from dealing with my own shit to her ACL; I thought that what we had was good, great even. I thought that taking the next step would be the best thing, you know, she would give me hints too that she was waiting for the proposal. So I thought she was sure about us, but I guess I was wrong? I don't know. I really don't know." You sniff, trying to keep in tears, then you quickly backtrack. "I'm really sorry; I shouldn't be dumping you like that; I know I am talking about one of your best friends too."

"No, Y/n, you can talk to me about it. You are one of my best friends too, okay? And I'm here for you. For whatever you need. And now that you have kids. Thanks for telling me right away, by the way," She remarks ironically, earning a chuckle from you, "I'll be the best aunt they ever had."

"I know you will." You give her a faint smile.

From your talk with Mapi, you realized one thing, which is that the kids should be your first priority, and everything else would come second.

You tried to deal with Alexia leaving after three years of relationship, in many ways. Normal people would think that you went to therapy, as this whole situation was making your abandonment issues from your parents surf up, but instead, you coped differently: watching Grey's Anatomy, the first seasons obviously.

That show was oddly comforting for you, for many people, such as Alexia, were adamant about watching it at first. You tried to convince her to watch it for three years, but she never budged. So now that she is gone, you thought it was the best time to watch it again. You usually watch it after Ava’s bedtime. You would put it on your TV for a couple of episodes. Initially, you didn't go in order; you just watched the most painful episodes. In all of this, Lucia would be like Alexia; she would roll her eyes when you watched the show and then go and mind her own business. You often offered her to come and watch it with you, but she wouldn't; you jokingly called her a girl full of prejudice, while she replied that she wasn't as lame and soft as you. But you could definitely see her stealing some glances at the show.

What you didn't know was that Lucia and Mapi were keeping in touch. A phone call happened, and Lucia told your best friend that you began watching the show; needless to say, Mapi was concerned because she knew that you only watched the show when you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. She told Lucia that she would be coming over soon, as she left town for a couple of days. But you still didn't know that.

That left you one night while you were watching a really intense episode. Lucia came out of the kitchen, passing through the living room, trying to get to her room, but she suddenly stopped looking at the screen. "Wait. Where is the brunette? The best friend of Meredith, I think. Wasn't she supposed to be in the show from day one?"

"She left," you replied, not taking your eyes away from the screen.

"Wait. What?" She says surprised, taking a seat next to you. You gave her a pillow.

"Yep."

"Is it okay if you put an episode from the beginning?" She asks shyly. You beam at her and switch on to the first episode.

And that is how Lucia began watching Grey's Anatomy. And what shocked you the most was that she was an emotional kid, and she got really invested really quickly, but what was funny was that she tried to hide it, but she never managed to do it properly, silently sobbing when characters died.

A week after, you were so invested that you watched it in all of your free time. You knew that it wasn't healthy. Especially for you, but it looked like she was enjoying herself, so who were you to stop her from watching something she loved.

That day you were watching the bomb episode; Ava left with Nico to get some stuff for his shop, leaving you and Lucia with time to kill, so you put on the show, and both decided you were up for a show marathon. As you got up to get some water for the both of you, you heard a knock at the door.

"Hey Mapi, what are you doing here?" You ask happily, being surprised you were seeing your friend without her telling you beforehand.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, why?" You ask her, clearly hiding the fact that you were watching Grey's Anatomy.

"You are watching Grey's Anatomy again, right?"

"No, I am not!" You say defensively.

"Stop bullshitting me, Y/n. Do you remember after we lost the Champions League last year against Lyon? You began watching that freaking show because you thought it could bring you some comfort, but instead, it made it worst!"

"That's not true!" You bark, even though you know it is the truth. "And you can't barge in like this, into my home unannounced, making wrongful claims."

"Lucia told me to come."

"And since when you and Lucia talk?"

"Since the night we met, so where is she?"

"Oh, you'll love what you are about to see." You chuckle, taking her to the living room.

When she saw Lucia watching the show, her face was adorned with the most disgusted and offended look.

"Lucia?" She says, making her turn around quickly, giving her a guilty expression.

"Okay, this is not what it looks like. It's-It's Y/n's fault."

"Oh don't blame me! I didn't force you." You say, showing the palms of your hands.

"Okay, you two. We are going out. The both of you. We are going on the pitch; get ready. Where is Ava?"

"With Nico." You reply.

"Tell him we'll be out for at least two hours."

As you get in the car with Mapi, she keeps her eyes on the road without giving you another glance. Leaving Lucia and you with an awkward silence.

As she gets to the parking lot of the training grounds, she makes you exit the car and turns to Lucia. "Have you already been here?"

"Yeah, Y/n takes me at least once a week."

Mapi looks at you surprised while you comment proudly, "Mark my words, she's going to be the future of Barça." Lucia blushes lightly, staring at the ground.

"I'm not that good." She says, nearly whispering.

"Don't you dare underestimate yourself! At your age, I was not even near as good as you. And you didn't even start training! Imagine then." She curls her lips in a small smile, heading to the entrance of the pitch.

"Did Y/n tell you about how we got the keys to this place?"

"Oh yeah!" Lucia chuckles, "She told me that you got drunk and wanted the keys, and Alexia had to save you."

"So, are we also changing this story?" Mapi asks you accusatively, making you sigh.

"Okay, maybe I embellished it a little." You grin guiltily.

"So what happened?"

"She was the drunk one!" Pointing the finger at you while you rest your forehead on your hand, shaking your head, not looking at Mapi. "And then, with some excuse that I don't even remember she lured us into helping her get the keys. Needless to say, she couldn't keep quiet, so her plan went to shit. She couldn't think properly because she was very drunk. She called Alexia, who was partying with the other girls because we had just won our first Champions, crying."

"I wasn't crying."

"You were sobbing because you couldn't figure out where the keys were, even though you claimed you knew where they were. And then Alexia came to the pitch, worried sick, and helped us find them. Which is something I would have never expected her to do."

"Well, she definitely told me another story." Lucia chuckles.

"Well, okay, I may have skipped some of the most lame parts of the story because it was the second time I saw you, and I wanted to not sound too lame." You reply, a little embarrassed.

She places her hand on your shoulders and smiles at you. "But you are lame."

"How dare you talk like that to your football idol?!" You say, faking being offended.

"I can, and I will!" She begins running to the pitch while you follow behind her trying to catch her. Spoiler alert: you couldn't. That girl was fast. Too fast.

After a little while, you both stop, taking a break. You put on your shoes and begin passing the ball to each other in a triangle. Then you leave Mapi and Lucia to play alone while you sit on the grass, smiling at their interactions.

You were more than halfway through July, meaning the World Cup was about to start. Even though you decided not to participate, you still told yourself you would watch all the Spain games. You had friends and teammates in that squad and wanted to support them. You and Mapi had the same idea, so you hosted a little get-together with other Spanish teammates who didn't attend the World Cup. Of course, you chose to tell all of your teammates about the kids and the adoption but refrained from talking about the Alexia thing. Initially, they were shocked that you had two children now, but then they were very happy for you.

So you found yourself on the day of Costa Rica against Spain, with many people in your home, all commenting random shit on TV. You were wearing your old Spain shirt with the number 10 behind it, while Lucia and Ava wanted to wear Alexia's. You let Ava wear one of the old shirts Alexia gave you at the beginning of your relationship with her. While with Lucia, you basically forced her to wear a Spain shirt with your name on it, claiming that "You have to wear the shirt of your favorite player, and you are lucky enough that you live with her." You loved teasing Lucia about the fact that you were her favorite player, and loved even more her annoyed reactions.

The two girls looked too cute, making your heart swell. So you posted a story on your Instagram showing the two backs of the shirts and the tv behind, with no caption. You still had to wait for everybody to come when you received a text from Alexia.

'Love the fits ;).'

You reply almost instantly, with your fingers trembling, as it was the first time you spoke to her since she left that night. 'They look so cute in it!'

‘I still don't know how you convinced Lucia to wear one of your jerseys, though…’

‘Long story’ You simply reply. This conversation confused you, as she wanted to keep talking to you. At the same time, she was the one that wanted a break, but you kept on replying to her, as you really missed talking to her.

'You'll tell me when I get back?'

You are about to reply when you hear a knock on the door, so you leave your phone on the table in your living room and go to the door. Mapi, Sandra Paños, Patri, and Claudia quickly enter your home, clearly looking for something.

"Nice picture you put up on your insta." Mapi remarks, "People are going to ask why you have two kids on your story and why you were watching a Spain game when you were part of the 15 people that refused to participate in the selecciòn."

"Make them talk about the kids; I'll discuss everything with Lucia in the future. And for the story, I'll just say it was in support of Alexia and nothing more, which is true." You explain to your best friend.

"So, where are the kids?" Sandra, the goalkeeper, asks you.

"They are in the living room."

After your teammates meet the two girls, you all order pizza and wait for the game to start.

You picked up your phone and saw that Alexia sent two other texts to you.

'Wish me luck (luck-clover emoji).'

'I miss you.'

You released a shaky exhale and decided not to reply; it was hurting you too much to respond to any of it. It was unfair of her to send you that last text, and it wasn't fair to you to reply.

During the game, when Alexia did something remarkable, as always, your friends, who were clueless about your break with her, would always make little comments about her and you, which you would shrug off, but Mapi and Lucia immediately understood that they were making you a little sad.

Spain managed to win that game by a very narrow margin. 1-0. You knew that they could've won by much more. You could see that by how they played, something was missing. Alexia's performance was clearly below her average, which made you low-key very worried. You see them return to the changing room, and then you switch off the tv. All the people in the room began talking and joking with one another, mainly focusing on the two kids that you had in your home; okay, a kid and a teenager, but for you, Lucia will always be a kid.

After a while, you receive another text from Alexia, making you feel bad that you weren't replying to them. Which she wrote

'You all were right about Jorge. I should have stayed home.'

You reply to this text, saying, 'I'm sorry, Alexia. He's an asshole.'

What actually had shaken you up from the text wasn't the fact that Jorge probably verbally abused many of your friends and teammates from your national team, which still made you angry as shit, but actually was that she said that she should have stayed home. Was she saying that she regretted going to the World Cup? Or was she regretting leaving you?

Mapi realized you were having inner turmoil and dragged you to your kitchen, asking what was happening. You showed her your phone, and she looked at you surprised.

"Since when has she been texting you?"

"Since today." You put away your phone, "I just don't get what she is doing. What she wants from me. And I know for sure that she is going through worse than me. But this is fucking torture, and the worse thing is that she doesn't even realize it."

Mapi didn't have the time to reply that a very tired Ava came to the kitchen searching for you.

"Mo-, Y/n, I'm tired."

"Do you want to get to bed?" You ask her smiling as you know the subsequent request that she will make. Over the weeks that she stayed at your home, you started giving her piggyback rides to the bed, making her fall into her bed, earning a laugh from her. Then you would tuck her bed sheets, giving her a good night.

She slowly nods, raising her arms and making grabby hands. You chuckle at her and turn around, waiting for her to jump on your back.

You put her to bed, give her goodnight with a kiss on the forehead, and return to the chaos in the living room.

You found your teammates and Lucia outside in your garden, sat down on the couches, actively talking about random stuff that you didn't even want to know about. You went out and sat down next to Lucia and took part in the conversations that were happening.

"Now Lucia, I have a really important question for you." Sandra begins, making the young girls sit up straight, a little worried. "How's living with Y/n?" Making all the people at the table chuckle apart from you. "I ask you this because when this woman here moved in with Alexia, we were really worried for Nala. And also because she has never once made a plant live for at least more than a week."

"Okay, this statement is very wrong. A, I am a great dog mom, Nala loves me, and B, I only ever owned one plant, and I hate taking care of them." You say, clearly, nobody was listening to you but were waiting for Lucia's answer.

"Honestly, she has been very good to us." She replies shyly. "She took us in when nobody asked her to, and honestly, she has been more of a mom to me this past month than my mother has ever been in sixteen years."

You look at her, eyes watering, really shocked about her statement. You give her a small smile, "Stop it, you will make me cry." You chuckle while removing with your fingers the tears forming in your eyes.

"Who would've thought that Y/n was such a softie!" Claudia teases you while you give her a deadly stare.

"Shut up, Claudia." The other girls at the table chuckle softly, then you turn to Lucia, "I'm really happy you feel that way." You hug her, and you give her a small kiss on the temple.

"If you will excuse me, I'm going to bed now; remember that tomorrow we have training." She reminds you, you slowly nod at her, and then she turns to your teammates, "It was so nice meeting you all; I hope I'll see you again sometime. Good night." All your teammates say goodnight to her, and as soon as she leaves for her bedroom, they turn to you.

"That revelation must have hit you like a ton of bricks." Mapi jokes.

"Oh, you don't even know. I wasn't expecting her to say that; she's not the kind of girl who likes to 'speak her feelings.' But it was a nice surprise."

"They are good kids, really kind and smart. You must be so proud of them." Patri speaks up.

"I am. Ava is so smart and sneaky, you don't even know. Whereas Lucia she's a really good kid, she will be playing for Barcelona B this season. I'm so proud of her; she'll surely be our team's future."

You say proudly as if you were speaking about your own kids, which slowly you realized that as time progressed, those two kids became so much part of your life that now you couldn't see yourself without them. For you, they were your kids, but you knew that it wasn't right to both of them for you to call them that, they already had a mom, and you didn't want to make them feel like you were replacing her.

"And with Alexia? How are they getting along with her?"

"Oh great! The younger one has her wrapped around her little finger. You all know how Alexia is with kids. Ava found out how she can make her say yes to everything she wants, so that's that. Whereas with Lucia, they bonded over football and dogs."

"You all look like a happy family."

"Yeah, I guess." You chuckle sadly, trying to keep up the façade that you and Alexia were still together.

After approximately half an hour, all your guests left, leaving you alone in the house, wallowing in your pit of misery. You were so happy that Lucia told you what she had told you, and there was only one person that you wanted to tell, Alexia. But you couldn't, and that realization left you helpless.

You go to your bed, which had been half undone since Alexia left, and you lay on it, still smelling her perfume from her pillow. You really missed her. So damn much.

You turned on your phone one last time before going to sleep. As Mapi predicted, you received many comments about the two kids and why you were watching the Spain game, but what worried you was your agent, who texted you.

'Call me as soon as possible. I don't care if it's midnight."

You decide to call him immediately, hoping he wouldn't pick up. He picked up, telling you how the story you put on Instagram makes many people ask questions, making you roll your eyes.

The next day you wake up after approximately two hours of tossing and turning in your bed, and go downstairs to your kitchen; you give Nala something to eat and make her go outside. You prepare coffee for yourself and wait for the girls to wake up.

You were scrolling through your phone when Lucia and Ava came to the kitchen for breakfast. Fortunately, after more than a month, since they moved in, you managed to get something to eat for them for breakfast, so you didn't have to go to your brother's place every day.

Lucia sat at the chair next to you while Ava tried to sit on the kitchen countertop, as she saw you many times sit there, but she couldn't because she was too short, but she wouldn't surrender. So you chuckled, then picked her up and put her where she wanted to sit.

"What are you doing?" Lucia asks, trying to peek at your phone.

"Did you open my Instagram yesterday?" You ask her.

"You might be one of my idols, but I don't stalk you on Instagram; I already live with you." She threw her hands up.

"Look at my story." You push her phone to her hands, and she picks it up and goes on Instagram.

"Wait, this is us!" She says, smiling shyly. Ava snatches her phone from her sister to see the picture, making the owner of the phone grunt from irritation, the older girl tries to physically take back the phone, making them have a small fight.

"Okay, girls, it's nearly nine a.m.; it's too early for this type of physicality. Ava, give back the phone to your sister." The little girl huffs and reluctantly gives the phone back.

"So, what is the problem with this picture?"

"People are asking who are the kids in the picture, so I thought I would post about it to get my agent off my back. Is it okay for you? I chose a picture in which you can't see your faces, so you won't have any problems." You reassure the older girl, showing the picture on the phone.

It was one of the first pictures you took together. The first one, Alexia, took it, and it was the first time you hung out together, all four of you. Ava was very tired and fell asleep on you; Alexia took a picture and sent it to you the day after. You couldn't see the sound girl's face in it, but it was evident she was a child.

The second one instead was a picture of you and Lucia playing football, you didn't remember who took it, but it appeared on your phone. You fell in love with the photo right away. You were possessing the ball, and Lucia was trying to take it away from you, but you were pushing her away laughing. When you saw both pictures, they became your top three favorite pictures of all time.

The third picture being with you and Alexia you took when you won your first Champion's League together. You had just started dating and thought you couldn't be happier at that moment, but boy, you were wrong.

"I love them." Lucia simply says, nodding.

"I don't like my picture!" Ava says, crossing her arms on her chest and pouting.

You chuckle at her antics, "What do you have against it? It's cute!"

"It's not cute! I'm sleeping."

"Okay, why don't you decide the picture." You offer, giving you her phone, on the album where you kept all the pictures with the girls.

She casually lands on a picture you took of her and Alexia petting Nala, which you thought was beautiful and sad. Making you rethink your life choices again in the past month.

"I want to put this." She says, giving you back the phone.

"I'll think about it." You give her a smile, then go back to preparing breakfast for them, thinking you'll finish the post that night.

That day, you had a lot of things to do. One is enrolling Ava in an elementary school and then bringing Lucia to the pitch to help her train for the season. You decided to multitask. You took Lucia to the pitch, then left for the school with Ava, and then you'd leave her with Nico and then go back to the pitch to Lucia so that you could train for preseason in Mexico.

Needless to say was that when you got home, you were exhausted. After the tough training that you and Lucia just endured, you both decided to shower then the both of you found yourself lying frozen on the couch with the AC on, waiting for Nico and Ava to come back home to dinner.

—

Fast forward to three weeks, and you still had to do the post; you opted out of it because you thought the pictures were great, but you knew something was missing: Alexia. How could you post about your family when a huge part of it was missing? So you decided not to post anything, hoping she'll return to you.

You were all now watching the Spain game against the US. The same at your house for the Panama game was again at your home. Spain barely got out of the group stage, with all the players clearly missing the spark they usually had. Matches with the US have always been challenging games; they were 4-time world champions for a reason, but more than that, the majority of the players in the USWNT played in the US, so you weren't even used to playing with them in a club.

Needless to say, Spain lost that game badly. Jorge was fuming. You could see it from the screen. He would scream at his team at any time, especially with Alexia, making you extremely worried. Alexia didn't deserve it; nobody did. He was acting irrationally for the world to see how bad of a manager he actually was.

The US team was over the moon when the final whistle blew, whereas Spain was shattered. They were all on the ground with their hands covering their faces. Then Alex Morgan walked towards your ex-girlfriend, picked her up from the ground, and gave her a small pat on the back for encouragement. It really hurt seeing the love of your life this hurt and distraught.

You see her go to get water near the bleachers, then the camera frame Aitana Bonmatì, which she was too standing up, but then you see her begin running. The camera changes the frame again, and you see where Aitana is running to. Alexia was drinking from a Gatorade bottle, and Jorge approached her. He snatched it harshly away from her and began talking angrily at her. You couldn't hear what they were saying to each other.

Still, you knew Alexia wasn't having any of it, chuckling sarcastically and shaking her head. He reacted by grabbing her by the arm. In the meantime, many of your Spanish teammates that have seen the scene unveiling, ran up to their captain, trying to make him take his hands off her. Ona even forcefully removed his hand from Alexia's arm, giving him a death stare. As she saw her teammates swarm her and their trainer, Alexia put a hand on Ona and Aitana, trying to stop them from doing something stupid. At the same time, Jorge kept screaming at all of them.

You and your Barça teammates were watching the scene on TV and looking at each other worried. You were frozen and scared, hoping that things wouldn't go sideways than they already were. FIFA was about to intervene when Jorge just finished screaming when Alexia shook her head and left the pitch, practically stomping. The game's broadcasting went to the ads, and you all looked at each other.

"What the fuck just happened?" Map was the first to speak, all turning to her while you still stared at the screen. Many voices were talking one on top of the other, but you closed them out, trying to think about your next step. You knew that if their interaction had lasted more than it did, you would've probably already been at the airport.

What brought you away from your spiral of thoughts was Ava calling out your name. This made you snap out of your trance and realize that also Ava and Lucia probably saw the same thing as you and many other kids around the world.

You went before her and then kneeled so she wouldn't have to raise her head too much.

"Y/n, why was the coach screaming at Alexia?" She asks worriedly with her head down.

You didn't know what to say to her; you couldn't possibly say that Jorge was an asshole who couldn't interact appropriately even on a worldwide broadcast.

"You know, when a person is sad and angry, they sometimes take it out on others even though they don't deserve it. That's what happened, even though you should never have your feelings out of control." She nods understandingly while you gently take her sides, "Now, why don't we go outside and get ice cream together?" She nods excitingly. "I have to make a phone call now. Can you stay with Mapi until I am back?" You look at your best friend; she gives you a slight nod, then turns her attention to the younger girl.

You go to your room, and the first thing you do is call Alexia. It goes to voice mail. And even though you hate leaving voicemails, you do.

"Hi Alexia, it's me, Y/n. I think you probably know that already. I saw the game today. I'm trying to say that please call back as soon as possible, or even just text me to let me know you are okay. And I know we're on a break, so I must give you space. But just please let me know if you are okay. I love you." You say, probably holding your phone too tightly, trying your best to find the right words.

Then you text Alba, which you haven't heard from her since the day she called you.

'Hey, Alba. I know that you are in New Zealand right now. I just wanted to ask you if you had heard anything about Alexia. Is she okay?'

Then you send a text again to Alexia. 'I saw the game today. Can you call me when you get this text, please? Or if you don't want to call, just tell me you are okay.'

Then you took a big breath to ground yourself. You told yourself to put your concern for Alexia in little boxes in the back of your brain. You had to be strong for Ava and Lucia.

You went downstairs to the girls and found your house empty, only Mapi and your kids.

You give the woman a puzzled look. "They left about two minutes ago. And the kids are outside playing with Nala. Did you manage to get a hold of Alexia?"

You shake your head. "I send her a text, and Alba too. I really hope that she's okay. That interaction looked like a lot. And for the whole team to intervene seemed like he was saying some hurtful stuff."

"I sent a text to Aitana to ask her what was going on. She told me that some hurtful personal stuff was said to Alexia. They haven't seen her since then."

"I mean, should I be worried? I know that we aren't on talking terms right now, but she is still someone I still care very much about."

"It's okay to worry about her. I know for sure that she won't be MIA for much long."

"Thank you for taking care of the kids, I'm sorry I left in such a hurry, but I had to make the phone call, ya know."

"If it were Ingrid, and I was in your place, I would've probably done worse." Her confession made you chuckle.

"So, ice cream? You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"Of course, I'm coming! I still have to beat Nico for top place as aunt/uncle!"

"You are an idiot." You say, laughing.

You go outside and call the two girls; Ava goes straight past you to Mapi, whereas Lucia, Shows you the thumbs up and asks you, "You okay?". You nod, giving her a weak shoulder pat, making her enter the house.

Every ten minutes, you would check your phone in the hopes of notification of Alexia, but it was useless. Good thing that Mapi was there, keeping the kids busy.

You were taking a walk when Alba called you.

"I'm sorry I have to take this." Your mouth to the defender that it was Alba and move away from the three girls.

"Hi Alba, how are you?"

"I'm good; we are about to go back to Spain. Tomorrow we have the flight."

"Say hi to Eli from me, okay?"

"Oh no, she told me to pass you the phone when we are done talking. What are you doing?" Even though you have known Alexia's mom, she has always been scary to you, especially when Alexia was on the line..

"I took the kids for some ice cream with Mapi. Right now, they wandered off, probably looking at some squirrel." You chuckle, smiling at the thought. "Have you heard from Alexia?"

"Nope, she didn't even call mamá. But strangely, she is not that worried. I think she knows where she went."

"At least one of us knows." You say hopefully.

"Mamá wants to talk to you," Alba says, passing the phone to her mom.

"Y/n, how are you?"

"I'm good, Eli. How's New Zealand?"

"New Zealand is nice, but Barcelona is better."

"No doubts about that." You chuckle, agreeing.

"How are the kids? Are they behaving well?"

"They are wonderful; you should come to dinner as soon as you get back." You say politely.

"Now, I know you love my daughter very much, right?" She asks you authoritatively, making you subconsciously make your back straighter.

"Yes, I do very much."

"When she'll come back to you because she will. Make her work for it." Your face turns into a weird and confused expression. "You two are perfect for each other and complement each other perfectly. That is why I gave you my blessing to propose to her a year ago. But when my child comes to her senses and apologizes to you, if you want her back, which I really hope you do, make her earn it."

"I will." You say, chuckling. "I'll make her sweat a little."

"Good. Now I'll let you get back at it with the kids. Give them a hug from me. And take care of yourself, with ya?"

"I will. Have a safe flight."

The rest of the day and the next day passed on rather quickly. You were still worried, but somehow, after the call with Alexia's mom, you were worried less. You knew she was a nearly 30-year-old independent woman; she could care for herself.

It was approximately 11 pm. You had just put Ava to bed, and Lucia was already to bed, ‘Claiming’ that she was tired. You thought she was hiding something from you, but you weren't worried about that. When she is ready, she will tell you. At least, you hoped.

Alone in your house, you wondered if this was like rich housewives felt when they waited for their husbands to come home, except that you didn't have a man, nor a woman, for that matter.

So, willing to get the whole desperate housewife experience, you decided to do the most typical thing they could do. Which was pouring yourself a glass of wine or two and hoping for the best.

You tried to find the cheapest bottle in your kitchen and opened it immediately; as you were about to put the wine in the glass, you heard an insistent knock on the door. You checked your time and wondered who in their right mind would knock at someone's door at past 11 pm.

You go to the door and open it.

"Alexia?"

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot

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ficsilike-reblogged · 1 year

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Invisible Smoke - Three

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he finally gets some answers.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader Word Count: 9k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

A/N: I apologize for the delay and thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter. Life has been a little overwhelming lately. Work has been hectic and I had a close family member pass away. I am hoping to come up for air soon. Thank you for your patience. And I do feel the need to reiterate that I DO NOT keep a tag list. Sorry!

Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, themes of stalking, cursing, mentions of bodily harm/injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

What could you possibly say? The truth was out of the question, at least the entirety of it was. You couldn't and wouldn’t drag him into this more than he already was. Jake deserved better than being wrapped up in your mess. “I got caught up in something above my paygrade a few years ago. Thought I had left it in the past. I’ll take care of it.” You took the Polaroid from his hand and threw it into the footwell in front of you before making sure to press your shoe over it.

Jake was quiet as he started your car and pulled out of the lot, turning toward the direction of your little bungalow. Maybe you should have been surprised he knew the way—he’d only come over with the rest of the Daggers twice and Bradley had been driving—but for some reason it just made sense. Of course Jake would know. His jaw was shut tight, you could see the tendons working as his teeth ground together. But just as quickly as you noticed it, he relaxed. But he didn’t move to turn the radio to a different station or raise the volume. He just kept driving.

The rollercoaster of emotions you’d just endured had you sagging in your seat. While your tears had slowed to a leaky trickle, they didn’t stop. And you wanted to scream, to rage at the cruelty of it all, but mostly what you wanted to do was crawl into bed after making sure your door and windows were locked.

He’d ruined your night. He had somehow found out you were going to the Hard Deck and had purposefully planted that picture. You were almost surprised that he hadn’t slashed your tires when he had the chance, too.

But it mattered little when Jake pulled into your driveway and handed you your keys after shutting off your car. He followed you up to the small, stone stoop and waited until you waved him in to step inside. You felt his eyes on you as you turned the locks on your door and then double-checked the one on the handle before you wiped at your face. Mascara and foundation smeared against your hand and you grimaced as you noticed it. Fantastic.

“Do you want a drink or something? I’m going to call you an Uber but before then? I have tea, water, and soda I know you won’t drink. I don’t keep alcohol in the house, sorry.” You were rambling, you knew that. But did you stop? No. “I can also order something for delivery, if you want.” You sniffled and tried to resist the urge to wipe at your face again.

Jake’s shoulders rolled as if he were trying to shake off a bug before he shook his head. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, Punch? I’ll wait out here.”

That sounded like he was staying. And, really, you knew you should be shoving him out the door and into an Uber you knew would take him back to his car and far away from you and the disaster that was your life. But you still nodded, trying to ignore how you liked knowing he’d just be in the living room, waiting. “Feel free to snoop,” you said, retreating down the hall.

“I’m not going to snoop!”

“Yes, you are.”

And then, as soon as Jake heard your bedroom door close, he started to snoop. He did have your permission anyway and that half-assed answer you gave him wasn’t sitting right in his gut. Your little house was neat, if not in need of a bit of dusting. Art prints in soft greens and light yellows were hung in straight lines with personal photographs, in smaller silver frames, dotted between. A bookshelf took up an entire wall and was organized by last name…except for the bottom shelf that was mostly empty with just a small stack of lilac spines and silver lettering. Jake bent to get a better look but paused, spotting two large but thin frames tucked behind the bookcase. He tugged one out and saw that it was your undergraduate degree from some university up the coast. The next frame held your Masters Degree. Both were covered in dust and forgotten about. Almost like you had purposefully shoved them away. Carefully, Jake put them back and tried not to think about why you wouldn’t want them displayed, and instead grabbed one of the lilac books. It didn’t have a traditional cover, just the title: Sunlight Filtered Through Champagne. Below it was a small sticker with “ARC” typed out in bold white letters. Turning the book to look at its spine, the author’s name now accompanied the title: Georgia Torrance. There was a small note sticking out of the top and Jake slowly pulled it out to look at. Thought you may want it in your hands! Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! What did that mean?

When he heard your door open again, he was quick to put the note and book back and stand straight, trying to make it look like he was just looking at the thriller paperbacks on the shelf at his eyeline. It looked like you had a grading system on the shelf, too, scribbled on a small post-it note, denoting happy endings and not-so-happy endings. There was also a note to donate all of the not-so-happy ending books.

It was like you needed hope that a bad situation could end on a good note. And then there were all the locks on your door. The handle of a baseball bat was sticking out from under your little couch. Your curtains were not open when you arrived. You couldn’t read thrillers that ended badly because you were living in a fucked up one yourself, weren’t you?

“I got caught up in something above my paygrade.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. This wasn’t some sort of government cover up. This wasn’t a case of you seeing something you shouldn’t have. The note had been too familiar and the photo had been too intimate.

“You look like you’re trying to think,” you said.

Jake turned and almost swallowed his tongue as he looked at you. You’d switched out your sundress for tiny shorts and socks that went up to your thighs. A baggy Navy t-shirt nearly covered your shorts. You looked so soft, so comfortable even with your eyes still a little swollen from your earlier tears. And it twisted at something warm behind his ribs.

“Careful, you might pull something if you try too hard.” The insult was lacking its usual heat but Jake hardly noticed. Something else had gained his attention. A large gnarled scar was peeking out from under your shorts on your left leg. It reached halfway down your thigh and Jake couldn’t see how high up it went. Whatever had happened, it looked like it had hurt immensely. Then he remembered how the slits in your dresses were always on your right side. Your shorts, while tight, always reached your knees. You had been hiding it.

Who had hurt you?

He must have been staring too long because you angled your body away from him and cleared your throat. “I’m gonna call you an Uber. Sorry for my freak out earlier. You coulda been home and asleep by now. Or picking up someone at the Hard Deck. God, I really fucked up your night.”

You were rambling again. And maybe Jake would have found it endearing in any other circumstance but not when you were twisting your hands into the excess fabric of your shirt and shuffling away from him to grab your phone.

Slowly, as to not startle you, Jake reached out and gently took the phone from your hands and set it on the couch cushion. Your face scrunched with your confusion and the divot between your eyebrows only deepened when Jake set his hands on your shoulders. “You gonna tell me what actually happened?”

Your features shifted and shuttered, falling into the casual annoyance you usually wore around him. “I told you-”

“Yeah, you told me something. Now tell me the truth. I was in that car with you tonight, Punch. I saw how scared you were. A picture had you just as scared as nearly getting run off the highway. Tell me what is going on, please.”

Your jaw clenched and you wiggled out from under Jake’s grip. “So you’re calling me a liar now?”

“No! I just-”

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this, okay? I am. I never should have brought you to the party. You never should’ve been in the car.”

You weren’t getting it. He needed you to understand. “I’m glad I was with you! I’m glad you had me with you—but you can’t just tell me that you have it handled or brush it off because-”

“I’m not brushing anything off!” You snarled. “Stop trying to play hero!”

It may have been easier if you had just slapped him. Was that how you saw him? “I’m not playing at anything. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me try.”

The glint in your eyes was near murderous. Jake had only ever seen you look like this once before and it had been when some asshole had yanked on Penny’s arm at the Hard Deck. “Just stop! I-”

“I know something is going on. You can’t convince me otherwise, all right? My mama always said that if you smell smoke, it’s ‘cause there’s a fire.”

You wiped a hand over your eyes and Jake hated how he noticed your chin wobbling. “Your stupid southern colloquialisms do not apply to this situation. There is no smoke!”

Jake stepped forward again and peeled your hand away from your face, sighing as he saw fresh tears lining your lashes. He never wanted to make you cry. Not ever. “There is smoke. And I want to help you. Let me help you.”

You sniffled and looked away from him again but didn’t pull your hands out of his grip. “I don’t fucking understand this metaphor. A-and I don’t want to tell you.”

The words cracked in your throat and Jake only squeezed at your hands. He was here for you. Couldn’t you see that?

“Invisible smoke or not, I’m not going to tell you. I’m not.” You shook your head and finally pulled your hands from his and Jake was prepared for you to step back and tell him to leave, to tell him, again, that you had this handled. Instead, your warm palms pressed against his chest and your tear filled gaze locked on his face. His next breath stalled. God, you were beautiful. “I don’t want to be the one to make you look at me differently. Just…just let me have the rest of this night, okay? I’ll text Bradley and tell him that he can tell you. But just let me have this last night where I’m not some stupid, broken girl in your eyes.”

Jake reached up and settled his hands over yours, noticing how goosebumps raced up your arms when his thumbs brushed against your knuckles. “You could never be. You’ll always be Punch.”

You sighed and almost smiled at him before shaking your head, pulling your hands out from under his. “No, I won’t.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you managed to convince Jake to watch a movie with you instead of talking or prying more, but you had a bowl of half eaten microwave popcorn between you on the cushions and The Mummy playing on your television.

This wasn’t how you saw this night playing out. Of course, a person could never really fit a car chase and a quick emotional breakdown into their schedule so, perhaps this was the best possible outcome. As Brendan Fraser’s Rick O’Connell gave Evy a pilfered toolkit in the most adorably awkward manner, your gaze drifted over to Jake.

And he was looking right at you.

Shit. Embarrassed heat washed over you and you quickly looked back at the television.

“C’mere.”

“What?” It was barely more than a squeak and you stubbornly refused to move your gaze away from the television again.

“I know you heard me,” Jake repeated, a bit of a laugh cracking his words. “Come here.”

“I’m not a dog, you know,” you bit back before you could think of being polite. Old habits do die hard.

But it seemed like Jake didn’t particularly care, because he moved the popcorn bowl onto your coffee table and then grabbed at your legs, dragging you over to him with a simple tug. The noise that escaped you was a mortifying mix of a squeak and a yelp and you fell forward with the force of it, hands falling against his arm and shoulder awkwardly. His warm, work-rough hands slid up your thighs, skirting over the scar that still left you grimacing even if the pain had faded years ago, and settled on the curve of your waist. Then, with another simple movement, your thighs were bracketing his and he was looking up at you with the stupid, beautiful sea glass eyes. There was something in his gaze you didn’t recognize.

Or maybe you did and you couldn’t voice it.

“What’re you-”

“You look like you needed a hug.”

You arched a brow and ignored the thundering of your heart. How many times had you thought about something like this only to curse your wandering thoughts? “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I’ve been told I give the best hugs.”

Your mouth twisted to the side—you weren’t sure if you were fighting a smile or a snarl. “Who told you that? Which one of your bed warmers-”

The words stalled behind your teeth when Jake leaned up just enough to wrap his arms around you, warm and solid. And you hated that it immediately brought tears to your eyes. God, how long had it been since someone had hugged you like this? Held you like this? You melted into his grasp like butter on hot toast, going slack against him until your forehead rested on the broad expanse of his shoulder. Jake’s movements halted for a moment. And, if you had been anyone else, you might have said you felt his breath catch. But you knew better.

“This means nothing, you know,” you said, one last ditch effort to not let him know how pathetically easy you were enraptured with his easy touch. “I’m withholding my judgment on if you give good hugs or not.”

You heard him smile before his hands continued their smoothing motions up and down your spine. “Okay, Punch.”

You could have argued a little more. Maybe mentioned how he probably needed a hug more than you or how you wouldn’t feel bad when his legs fell asleep under your weight. But you didn’t. You didn’t because you were so comfortable and your favorite movie was playing in the background and Jake’s cologne smelt so good…who could blame you for falling asleep?

You snored. Just a little. It honestly reminded him of like…a baby bear for some reason. But maybe you were just extra tired. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t been sleeping well. Either way, Jake slowly slid one arm beneath your butt and kept the other a little higher on your back and gently lifted you up from the couch; your head lolled to the side and fell against his chest as you let out a heavy breath. Jake pretended not to feel how you rubbed your cheek against him and let out a soft hum. Or maybe he filed that little sound away to think about later. Either way, Jake made his way down the short hallway and pushed open your door with his foot, wincing as its hinges whined.

Your eyes opened the slightest bit as soon as your head hit the pillow and Jake was sure he would never forget the smile you shot at him.

Then he was thinking about waking up every morning to your sleepy, happy smile. He was thinking about carrying you to bed after a long night at the Hard Deck. He was thinking of you. He had always tried to shove those thoughts down. He had tried to ignore them because he knew—he knew—that nothing could come of it. But now he couldn’t. He knew what it was like to hold you in his arms. He could deal with the paperwork, admirals, and ribbing from the Daggers…if it meant he could…well, he’d finish that thought when he knew you were thinking the same thing.

After shutting your door, and making a mental note to pick up some WD-40 for those squeaky hinges, he made his way back to your living room. He picked up the popcorn bowl and washed it out and then straightened the cushions, just like his mama taught him to do. The movie finished as Jake sat on your couch and dug his phone out of his pocket. It was well past one in the morning but he still pulled up Bradshaw’s contact and typed out a message. We need to talk.

He’d probably hear from him in the mor-

His phone beeped with a new message and he was quick to click on the thread. I’m on my way.

Wasn’t he supposed to be out in the desert with Maverick? What did he mean he was on his way?

Apparently Rooster was also psychic because another message came through. Cut trip short. Will be at her house in an hour.

So, Jake waited. He played a stupid game on his phone to pass the time and made sure it was muted so it wouldn’t wake you up. Every time he heard a car pass by, he checked the window. He needed to make sure it wasn’t the charger again and he wanted to meet Bradley at the door so you wouldn’t wake up when he knocked. Five more rounds of the mindless game on his phone and then he was standing up again, and watching a familiar Bronco pull onto your driveway behind your car. He was surprised to see Maverick exit the passenger side but waved them both in when they approached the door.

“Where is she?” Bradshaw asked instead of a greeting.

“She’s asleep,” Jake hissed. “Keep your voice down.”

“Have you checked all the windows?” Maverick asked, voice thankfully at the correct decibel.

“A couple times,” Jake said. Maverick knew too? Was he the only one that didn’t know what you were hiding? “Are either of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Maverick looked at Rooster but Rooster was looking right at Jake, mouth set in a firm line beneath his ridiculous mustache. “I gotta see her first. All right? We’ll stay with her for the rest of the night.”

That just about crawled all over Jake. He was just going to shove him out? After everything that’s happened tonight? “No. No, this is fucking ridiculous. Tell me-”

“Seresin,” Maverick cut in. “You’ve had a long night. Why don’t you head back to base and get some sleep?”

“I-”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander.”

That simple phrase repeated in his head as he sat in the back of the Uber headed toward the Hard Deck, and when he drove himself home, and as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander. What it actually was, was insulting. But he did as he was ordered, knowing that Mav and Rooster were trying to take care of you (and Maverick did have the authority to have him brought up in front of the brass)…but why didn’t they see that Jake was trying to help, too? As he stewed, his phone chirped with a notification from his sister, Mia. It was a picture of her sitting out on a familiar porch swing, the Texas night sky on display over her head as she smiled at the camera. She was holding up a cup—Jake knew it was probably filled with her favorite chamomile blend from a shop a few towns over from the family ranch. Hope you’re getting more sleep than me!

Jake sighed for the umpteenth time. Mia’s ex-husband, a man named Ryan who Jake had never liked, had up and left her for a coworker. She was understandably heartbroken and then when she discovered that Ryan had a child on the way with his mistress while Mia had been struggling to have a baby, she had been near inconsolable. It had taken her nearly a week for Jake and his sisters and mom to get Mia out of bed. It had been slow going to help her get back on her feet, even after the lawyer his mom hired managed to get Mia all of the marital assets and half of Ryan’s monetary savings alongside a hefty alimony. Mia had always been the strongest of his sisters, an older sister to the core, who had truly stepped up when their father had stepped out on their mother. It had been a cruel twist of fate that Mia’s marriage had turned out to mirror their mother’s so closely. Jake spoke with each of his sisters at least once a week, mostly just making sure they were doing okay and to lessen the bit of guilt he had for leaving Texas and them in the rear view when he joined the Navy. After tonight, he could use a little talk with his sister.

Jake hit the small phone icon beneath her name and it rang twice before she picked up. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up with my text.”

“I was awake.”

“What’re you doing up right now?” She grumbled.

“Had a long night.” That was putting it lightly.

“I thought you were going out with that girl, Punch? Not the girl of your dreams anymore?”

Jake bit back the groan he felt rising in his throat. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to. You’re my baby brother and I know you. She a bad kisser or something?”

“We are not in high school and I’m not having this conversation with you,” he grumbled, feeling heat start to flood his face.

Thankfully or not, there was a strange fluttering sound on the other end of the line, followed by a muttered, “shit!”

“Everything okay?” Ryan had shown up at the ranch Mia and their mother now shared more than once, raging about the divorce decree and/or asking for a second chance in the next breath.

“Yeah, just dropped my book.” There was a long sigh and Jake imagined her settling back down onto the well worn cushion in the swing.

“What’re you reading?”

“A book.”

He rolled his eyes but felt a smile pushing at his mouth. She could always make him laugh. “Mia.”

“Jacob.” She snickered before continuing. “The author’s name is Georgia Torrance. She writes romances and if you judge me I’ll figure out a way to get your superiors to ground you from flying for, like, three days at least.”

Jake’s smile widened the slightest bit before something clicked. Georgia Torrance. That was the name on the strange books in your home. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! You had written them, hadn’t you? Under a fake name, sure, but that was you.

If this were any other situation, Jake would drive back to you and simply ask if had a second job as a writer but he’d been banished from your house by his superior officer. So, he’d just bide his time with that, too, he guessed.

“I think I’ve heard of her. She has a few books, right?”

His sister giggled down the line. “Oh, they’re some of my favorites. Me and a few of the other girls have been getting together, like a book club, to read them. It’s fun.”

Jake smiled. She was doing okay, leaning on her friends. “You like those scandalous books, Mia? Gram would be mortified.”

Mia hushed him, but another giggle softened the blow. “They’re a great escape from the shitstorm of my life right now. Don’t judge me. They really are well written! And they’re so soft, Jake! Like, you can tell the characters actually care about each other.” There was a wistful sigh on the other end. “And she does this thing in all of her books.”

“Thing?”

“Yeah, the hero in some fashion or way, always ends up carrying the heroine to bed. Just to sleep. It is in all of her books. It’s her thing. Her trope, or whatever. It is so romantic.”

The sleepy, happy smile you’d given him flashed in his mind and the smallest bit of tension released in his chest. He had made you smile while doing something you, apparently, thought was romantic.

“Are you okay?” Mia asked, pulling Jake from his reverie.

His answering sigh crackled over the phone and he thought of your smile again. “Don’t worry about me.”

Someone was sitting on your bed. You had the vague realization of the weight as you teetered between sleep and wakefulness. “Jake?”

“‘s me, Punch.”

You smacked yourself in the face while attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Bradley? Aren’t you still supposed to be out in the desert with Captain Mitchell?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “But my favorite mechanic was apparently auditioning for the Fast and the Furious and we cut the trip short.”

Even in the dark of your room, you could see Bradley smile. “You hate those movies,” you said, hating how your voice started to quake. Hadn’t you cried enough?

“I do. Now, are you gonna tell me what happened? And why fucking Hangman was acting like your guard dog?”

Heat dragged up your neck and you were thankful for the dark of your room so Bradley wouldn’t see you almost smile into your pillow. “Is he still out in the living room?” He’d stayed for you.

“Mav sent him home. Wanted me to tell him everything the second we got in.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Bradley sighed again and his warm hand landed softly on your arm. He squeezed it gently. “Had to make sure you were okay first. You will always be the priority.”

“I shouldn’t be,” you muttered. “God, I’m not worth any of this. You should have seen him tonight, Bradley. He just wouldn’t stop. It was a goddamn miracle I was able to get us out of that without totaling my car. And Jake was just…” Traitorous tears stung at your eyes but you let them fall because Bradley had seen you battered and bloody; he could withstand your tears. “Jake was so nice to me. Patient. He doesn’t deserve to be wrapped up in this. None of you do.”

“Hey,” Bradley started, whispered tone bordering on disappointed. “Stop saying shit like that. I’ve told you this a thousand times: you are worth everything. You deserve better than the shitty hand you were dealt. And remember whose dumbass started all this? Me. It was me.”

“It wasn’t you though,” you said, trying to breathe through the tears still trying to choke you.

But Bradley said nothing else but moved a little closer to you on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You weren’t entirely sure when you fell back asleep but you woke a few hours later with the first rays of daylight peeking through your curtains. It felt like you’d inhaled brick dust after being battered with said brick. Embarrassment was gnawing on your ribs as you rolled out from under your tangled blankets and set your feet on the floor. Everything had gone off the metaphorical rails last night. And a part of you ached at the thought of not having Jake around, even on the periphery, because you knew he would want nothing to do with you after he knew.

You stretched, hearing your back crack, and padded out toward the kitchen where you’d bet Bradley was waiting. And, yep, he was leaning against your counter, sipping on coffee you only kept in the house for him. His hazel eyes looked you over before he set down the mug, porcelain clacking against the linoleum. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. Where’s Captain Mitchell?” You asked as you stepped into the kitchen, too, intent on getting to the lemon poppy seed muffins you saw sitting on the counter. Bradley’s hand slowly raising to block your path had you whining. “Why are you being me to me? I am in need of food.”

“You’re a brat,” he said with absolutely no heat. “And how many times has Mav said you could call him Pete when we aren’t on base?” He grabbed one of the muffins and shoved it at you. A few crumbs fell to your kitchen floor and you knew you’d have to sweep later. But not now. You took a large bite and almost moaned at the taste of it and continued to ignore Bradley’s question. Maverick was your superior. That was it. Keeping people at arm’s length kept them safe—well, you knew that he knew about your predicament but that didn’t mean he needed to be tangled up in it, too. “He picked those up for you this morning before he went to Penny’s for breakfast. Said Ice mentioned they were your favorite?”

You nodded and felt your lips curling up in a smile between bites. “He and Sarah took me to the bakery about a week after I got stationed here.” Tom had insisted that the poppy seed muffins were the best he’d ever tasted and after one bite, you agreed.

Bradley reached for one and hummed after he took a bite, nodding before taking another.

You two ate in silence for a little longer before Bradley, with his stupid baby cow hazel eyes, looked at you again. “What?”

“I checked the house over. It looks like nothing’s been messed with. But why don’t you come stay with me-”

“No.”

Bradley looked like he was trying not to sigh. “Punch, c’mon. It’ll just be until-”

“Until what, Bradley? I can handle this. He…he’ll probably disappear again and we can just forget this ever happened.”

“He tried to run you and Seresin off the road, Punch. Let me help.”

“You already did! You brought me muffins and checked out my house after staying the night when you should’ve been out in the desert and working on Mav’s plane. And that’s just today. You have done enough.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed as he shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth—which was ridiculous! He wasn’t even savoring it!—before sighing. “Fine. But you call me if you need anything, okay? Or Bob.” He then paused and you hated how his brow arched. That always meant he was going to say something he thought was clever but was actually stupid. “Or you could call Hangman.”

Embarrassed heat started to claw at your neck and you tried to ignore it and the knowing look in Bradley’s eyes. “You’re being mean.”

“You are asking me to tell him what the hell you have lurking in the shadows-”

“Don’t say lurking in the shadows. We aren’t in a horror movie.”

“-and you still refuse to see how much that guy is in love with you?”

The heat was now scalding and you were sure that your internal temperature had risen a few degrees, too. “Ken isn’t in love with me.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

Were you in love with Jake? No. That couldn’t be possible because, after everything, you knew that being in love and being loved just wasn’t in the cards for you. And the Navy would never allow it. And Jake was…Jake was your friend. And so far out of your league it was ridiculous. You weren’t his type anyway. And you didn’t have a type but if you did it would probably be…Jake. But you didn’t have time to think about that now because there was a tight feeling in your chest and your eyes were watering again and you knew that you were actually…probably…definitely…pathetically in love with Jake Seresin. Shit.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter if I am or not. None of that matters,” you bit out as you blinked back the tears. “Also, when are you going to tell Natasha how you feel?”

Just as you anticipated, Bradley’s cheeks filled with pink and it was his turn to look away. “I’ve got a plan,” he muttered.

The smallest bit of tension slipped from your spine as you realized your diversion had worked, at least marginally. Bradley did have a bad habit of jumping back to conversations you had thought you had moved on from. Oh well. “So you’re not denying it anymore? No more ‘we’re just friends’ or ‘you’re reading into it,’ now?”

The pink in his cheeks grew darker as he reached out to lightly flick at your arm. “I guess.”

Well, at least you had this small victory. And god knows he had been ignoring his feelings for Natasha for years. You surely hadn’t been the only one to notice; Natasha was just as far gone for Bradley but she at least hid it better. You were sure only you and Bob knew about her feelings. “If I were mean, I’d make you tell me your plan. But I am feeling charitable today and will just wish you the best.”

“You’re such a brat.” He pulled you into a hug and sponged a loud kiss onto your forehead before stepping back. After you told him to go home and actually rest, that you’d be fine for the rest of the weekend, and Bradley once again telling you to call him if you needed anything, he left with a final, “lock your door!” thrown over his shoulder.

And then you were alone again. Your heart gave a startled leap when you heard a car door slam a few moments later but you heard your neighbor’s squeaky front door open and close and pushed out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Great. You eventually swept the kitchen floors and double checked the windows before making the short trek out to your mailbox to check the mail. You stepped back inside and engaged all the locks before sorting through the small stack of envelopes and advertisements. Most were junk and quickly shredded and then put in the recycling bin. You smiled as you recognized your sister’s handwriting across one of the envelopes. Georgie still maintained that you should FaceTime every other week but her letters were a more frequent occurrence. This one was filled with details about her pregnancy and how her husband is being adorable about setting up everything in the nursery. She asked about your job and if you had any suggestions about what to get for your brother, Danny, for his upcoming birthday. You set the letter aside to flip through the rest of the stack but your heart fell to your feet when you saw the last thing in your hand.

It was another goddamn Polaroid. And part of you wished that it had just been you. Just you trapped in that white box. But no. It was Jake. Just Jake. It was him walking out to your car while you’d still been parked at the Hard Deck last night. Poorly drawn blood was bisecting his neck—it was supposed to look like his throat had been slashed, you assumed. It was a shitty drawing but it got the point across.

He could hurt Jake. He could hurt Jake simply because he was near you.

And you wouldn’t ever let that happen. There’d never been a threat like this before—Bradley and Bob never received one and you had been given no threats for them, either. So, it was just Jake. Just your Ken. You needed to keep him safe. Even if it cracked at something behind your ribs.

With all the subtlety of a freight train, you started avoiding him at work. If he walked in a room, you’d walk out. You bribed other ADs to be the ones to handle Jake’s jet. You didn’t go to the Hard Deck if you knew he was going to be there—which was more often than not. You ignored him whenever he called your name. It created a strange waiting game—you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had been called into Admiral Simpson’s office and reprimanded for disrespecting a superior officer. But weeks trickled by and nothing happened except Captain Mitchell giving you a disappointed look and Natasha asking if you and Jake hooked up and if it was bad enough for you to avoid him. After explaining that there was definitely not a hookup (true) and you definitely weren’t avoiding him (lie), you let yourself believe that you had managed to ghost him enough to keep him safe. When you received another Polaroid of you and Jake from the night of Junior’s party with Jake’s face scratched out and the words “I knew he couldn’t handle you” scrawled across the bottom, you knew you’d made the right choice. Then the next note, a singular scrap of paper tucked into the crease between your front door and its frame, read “all alone again? you never know how to treat them!,” your resolve only strengthened.

He could think you hated him forever as long as he was safe.

You could watch him flirt with every beautiful woman who looked in his direction and ignore how your entire body flinched at the sight as long as he was safe.

He just needed to be safe.

It had been three weeks since you had fallen asleep in Jake’s arms. And three weeks since you’d spared him more than a side-eyed glance. Rooster had been acting strange, too. While the other pilot hadn’t been avoiding him exactly, Rooster had volunteered to help Mav with the current Top Gun class and had been squirreled away in his office or in the classroom when not in the air. And while Jake could have metaphorically cornered Rooster by asking him over the comms, he wouldn’t ever bring up your name like that when other people were listening. So, when Maverick decided that the newest class needed to be introduced to Dog Fight Football after three pilots got into a screaming match and nearly collided with Phoenix and Bob during a dogfight simulation, he knew this was an opening he needed to take.

In passing, Jake also took the opportunity to ask if the support crew would be invited and earned an unimpressed look coupled with a, “they have been told that they are encouraged and welcome to come, Seresin.” Jake didn’t even care that Mav probably (definitely) knew what he was really asking because he overheard you telling Fanboy that you’d be there because Penny wanted someone to sit with. Perfect.

And you looked perfect when he saw you the next morning. Sitting on a low rise sun chair with Penny at your side and your toes buried in the sand, you had on that pair of shorts Jake dreamed about and a loose fitting shirt with the Dagger Squadron emblem over your heart. You were beautiful. He wasn’t going to shy away from it any more. No more using ‘special’ to hide everything else he wanted to feel. You were beautiful.

Now, Jake knew he was good looking. There was no arguing that. So, why not use it to his advantage? He strode up to you and watched as you looked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. And your face revealed nothing. You were a stone wall when you craned your neck to look up at him but he was undeterred.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Punch.” He then grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it onto your lap as he subtly flexed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you hold that for me?”

You seemed to freeze for a moment before grabbing the shirt and neatly folding it. “Sure.” Then you leaned to the side, completely ignoring him, and shouted, “Bradley! Give me your shirt before it gets wet!” Rooster’s shirt eventually turned into Javy’s shirt, Phoenix’s shirt, and Payback’s shirt, and then you made sure that Bob had enough sunscreen on. And Jake watched all of it happen, little more than another bit of sand on your periphery. Just as he was about to call it quits on this attempt, you called out to him. He turned to you to see you looking at him over the edge of your sunglasses again. “Pull up your shorts. You’re about to give everyone a show.”

Penny let out a choked laugh that she tried to hide behind her hand before Jake tugged at the waistband of his shorts, moving them up marginally.

“There you go, Ken. Now you’re almost suitable for public consumption.”

“I prefer private consumption, Punch.” Jake winked at Penny when she laughed again before turning his attention back to you. “I could give you a free preview after we show these kids how to play nicely with each other.”

Jake watched you roll your lips into your mouth before you turned your head away as you pretended (he was sure!) to straighten the small stack of shirts you had collected. “That’s inappropriate. And you of all people don’t know how to play nicely.”

“Oh, Punch,” Jake said, letting as much of his Texan twang seep into his tone as possible when he leaned down to make sure you could look him in the eye (or ogle him correctly). “I play very nicely.”

You licked your lips and looked away but Jake saw your throat bob. “Make sure to tackle Royal into the sand,” you said, mentioning one of the Top Gun pilots who had been involved in the screaming match. “He’s been acting up with the other ADs.”

Well, that was a start. Maybe. “You got it, Punch.”

Then, forty-two seconds into the game, Jake did just that. He looked back at you to see you hiding a laugh behind your hands while Penny roared beside you as Royal yelled about getting sand in his mouth.

The game continued and the grumpy group of pilots eventually started to get along–not as well as the Dagger Squad, but they were something special. Maverick seemed to agree with the exasperated look he shared with Jake and Rooster when they finally called it a day. Penny invited them all up to the Hard Deck for a drink and that seemed to smooth the rest of the rough edges this group came in with, or at least most of them. Maverick bought the first round but Jake was quick to buy another for the Dagger Squadron when that was quickly drained. And, because he was definitely trying to track you through the steadily growing crowd (covertly), Jake spotted you at one of the hightops outside on the deck. Bob and Phoenix were with you, laughing at something you said.

That was the happiest he’d seen you in weeks. Your smile was actually reaching your eyes—your eyes that finally had that light in them that had been missing.

A hand fell onto his shoulder and Jake swung around to see Bradshaw handing him another beer. Even though Jake was less than halfway into the one he already had. “Thanks, man.”

Rooster nodded and took a long pull from his beer before glancing at you, too. He rolled his shoulders before waving his bottle toward the door that led out to the beach. “Let’s talk.” He led Jake onto the sand with quick steps and then stopped just short of the water’s edge.

The other man was quiet for a stretched moment, quiet long enough for Jake to think he wasn’t actually going to say anything but-

“She saved my life.”

Jake tried to process the words before a scratchy “what?” was pulled out of his throat.

Bradshaw took another pull from his beer and then set the empty bottle into the sand by his feet. “The mechanic assigned to me when we were overseas talked a big game—his dad was some big shot who was buddies with the brass at the Pentagon. Name was Luke. He was a shit mechanic, to tell you the truth. Punch would sometimes come in behind him, usually after hours, and double check everything he did. I would talk to her whenever I caught her doing it. She was embarrassed and asked me not to tell anyone and for a few weeks I just didn’t see her, didn’t think anything of it, really. Maybe because I thought she was finally doing something about all the bruising I kept seeing crop on her face. She changed the subject when I asked her once if she was okay.” Jake knew what self-loathing sounded like and right now it was bleeding out of Bradshaw’s every word.

“Then, one day, we get sent out. I run in and half-ass my preflight checks because I was a stupid kid who wanted to make a name for himself. I wasn’t always so careful.” He bared his teeth for a moment. “Stupid. I was so stupid. I’m about to get into the slingshot and she just darts out in front of me, waving her arms and screaming something I can’t hear. She nearly gets taken down by MPs and other officers and I’m fuming, I’m so mad that the rest of my squadron get to go out and I’m grounded by some crazy mechanic.” He shook his head before his hands curled to fists at his sides. “But I’ll never forget how desperate she sounded, screaming that the routine maintenance I would have been needing for the past three weeks hadn’t been done properly. He had been drunk in the hangar. For weeks. When my commander looked my plane over, he said I was lucky I wasn’t sitting in a goddamn body bag. It was a ticking time bomb.”

Jake’s heartbeat was echoing in his ears as he looked at Bradshaw. But more was yet to come.

“I found her trying to hold her leg together just outside the hangar. That asshole took a pair of pliers and…” Rooster’s hand twisted and jerked and Jake could imagine the sharp tool moving like that, moving against you. “He did it just to…just to make her bleed and try to make her apologize for saving my life. One of her eyes was swollen shut and she…” His mouth twisted to the side as if he needed to compose himself before continuing. “She could barely tell me who did it to her before she passed out. Punch was in medical for a week. They wouldn’t let me see her; the only visit I got was from two star who asked what I knew. The next thing I know, she’s been sent back to her shore station and Luke’s disappeared, too. It took me months to learn that all that guy got was a damn Letter of Admonishment and a commercial flight back home.”

“That’s it? That’s all he got?” Rage punctuated each syllable, an unmistakable and inescapable heat starting to burn in his chest.

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face before continuing. “And what makes it fucking worse is that she was dating him. Dating himand coming to the hangar looking like she’d just gone three rounds with a heavyweight and I didn’t connect the dots until that two star let it slip.”

The rageful heat in Jake’s chest splintered as he thought of you being hurt like that by someone you trusted. How could someone do that to you while claiming to love you? How could anyone do that?

“This was my fault. Mine. She may think it is all hers but if I had asked her just one more time if she needed help, I could have had Luke dishonorably discharged and Punch would be…”

Safe.

Healthy.

Unafraid.

“She was so in love with him and he made her believe he would be the only one who could ever love her. Got it in her mind that no one else would ever lower themselves to love her.”

There was a pointed look shot in his direction that Jake tried to not read too much into (right now).

But Rooster pressed on. “I took a gamble and called Tom…Admiral Kazansky,” he quickly reiterated. “He’d been just about as constant in my life as he could be, you know. Always said I could call if I needed anything. And I just needed her safe.”

The strange look in Rooster’s gaze kept Jake quiet despite the dozens of questions running through his mind.

“He learned what happened and what she did and the next day she gets orders to Hawaii. Then to Kitsap in Washington. The furthest east she got was Fallon in Nevada. She was firmly planted under Kazansky’s oversight. I thought it would keep her safe.”

“But she kept volunteering for deployments,” Jake said after Bradshaw fell into an agitated quiet, like he was searching for words. He didn’t think that your throwaway anecdote from the engagement party would mean this.

“That piece of shit somehow found out where she was going to be at a port call and arrived the day before she was supposed to get back on the carrier. He nearly strangled her to death.”

The murmured stories you had half heartedly given were starting to create a through line. “That was when Bob stepped in. He said they met on deployment.”

Rooster nodded. “Apparently that LoA was to blame for Luke not getting promoted. He blamed her. It didn’t matter that she could have gone in front of the brass and had him court martialed. It didn’t matter that she took money from his just-as-shitty father to keep her quiet. He still saw her as the reason he was given a goddamn slap on the wrist for nearly killing us both. She was still the one that managed to get away. He should be in prison and he was mad about not making rank. Bob was the one who dragged him in front of the brass but that basically amounted to nothing. Again. She refuses to go to the cops because she thinks they’ll just brush it off or cover it up like everyone else does.” He knocked his foot against the empty bottle for a moment before turning to look at you back on the deck. Jake looked, too, seeing you let Phoenix drag you around in a dance. You threw your head back with a laugh as you nearly fell. Bob was cheering you both on. “Kazansky then had her stationed here,” Bradshaw said as they both turned back to look at the ocean. “It was a smart move. Kept her safe. The pilots never stayed but the ADs rarely rotated out. She saw it as a glass half full type of situation—she was trusted with the planes of the best pilots in the Navy but she wouldn’t have the opportunity to deploy as often, if at all. I’m pretty sure Kazansky had Luke shadowbanned from any of the stations he oversaw.”

But now Admiral Kazansky was dead, that was unspoken.

“And now Luke’s back.” The words sounded muffled to Jake’s ears as he said them. His heart thudded against his ribs as his stomach twisted. Luke was back. You were in danger. There was no denying it now.

“He is. And she seems to think that you’ve gained that douchebag’s attention and she just wants to keep you safe,” Bradshaw continued, an edge of exasperation starting to soak each syllable. “You are both so fucking stupid-”

“Hey.”

“-but I need you to help keep her safe, yeah? She’s going to fight you on it. Even more than she has already. But-”

“I’ll do it.” The words punched out of Jake with his next breath. And he meant it. “Whatever you think I need to do, I’ll do it.”

His wingman almost smiled at that. Almost. But he shook his head instead. “Seresin-”

“Punch?”

Both Jake and Bradshaw whipped their heads around back to look at the deck.

“Punch?!” Phoenix was leaning over the railing to crane her neck to the side in search of you, presumably. Bob was doing the same in the opposite direction but his face was scrunched in something almost like fear. “Punch?”

You appeared around the corner, balancing a tray of new drinks for your little group. Both Phoenix and Bob’s faces relaxed as they took the offered drinks, each kissing your cheek in thanks. As you set the tray down and said something to them Jake couldn’t hear before you turned just enough to see Jake looking at you. The carefree smile on your face faded as you glanced at Rooster at his side. You knew he had been told. Your chin tucked to your chest before you abruptly turned back to your other friends.

You truly thought he wouldn’t still want you?

That rage returned, burning behind Jake’s ribs. Not at you. Never at you. At Luke who had beaten you down physically and emotionally hard enough for you to believe that no one would love you.

But Jake was here. He would always be here. Waiting for you.

A/N: thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

#Jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #tgm #top gun maverick #female reader

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 4 months

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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 12

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Every muscle in your body screamed as you fell into the dark. You didn’t even know when you started to fall, but the air was sucked from your lungs as you plunged into the depths. Your arms rose above your head, fingers grasping desperately for something to hold onto, but the water that engulfed you offered no purchase. Your hair floated around your face like a dark halo as you thrashed and kicked wildly, the fabric of your nightgown billowing around you. Your eyes widened, mouth opening in a burst of bubbles as you let out a muffled, watery scream, sinking deeper into the pitch-black water. No matter how you struggled, you only sank further, the pressure of the water growing, squeezing the last bit of air from your lungs. Eventually, you stopped fighting, your arms going limp above your head, legs floating beneath you, hair drifting like seagrass as you descended.

From everywhere and nowhere, Azriel’s voice echoed in your mind, “I want this to be done.” You turned your head, your eyes burning as you peered into the inky blackness around you. “Life of luxury,” the voice continued to echo as you began to thrash again. “I know my own suffering,” the bodiless voice screamed out, overlapping with, “They don’t want to leave,” and “Do you want that?” All these phrases echoed over one another, blending into a cacophony of torment.

You brought your hands to your ears, pushing out an unheard, breathless scream as you shook back and forth, trying to shake the voices that were coming from your own mind. “Do you want me to rip them from their homes? Life of luxury. Do you want that? I know my own suffering. I want this to be done. Life of luxury. I want this to be done,” the voices overlapped, harmonizing with the voice of your mate, “What do you want from me? What do you want from me? What do you want from me?” The questions came first from far away, then as if someone were whispering in your ear, then from your left, right, close, far, above. You couldn’t place them as they screamed and whispered to you.

You slammed your eyes shut, releasing bubbles as you screamed in silent agony.You curled your knees to your chest, and then, with a thump, you found yourself on your knees, curled over, dripping water from your hair and body as you shook, coughed, and cried out water from your lungs.

“What do you want from me?” a voice asked, the voice of your mother.

“I want to see her,” said an unknown male voice.

“No,” your mother responded. You lifted your head from your hands and took in the black room you were in, the rock floor hard beneath you as the sounds of drips echoed against it. In front of you, you saw your mother’s face, shadowed and indistinct. Facing away from you was the figure of a male, also obscured and shadowed. “I won’t allow that,” your mother responded.

You wiped the water from your eyes as you watched, the only light in the entire room focused on them. “Mama,” you reached out to her, but she didn’t turn to you, nor did it seem she heard you.

“She is my child,” the male responded.

“She is nothing to you,” your mother shot back.

“She is my property.”

“She is no more your property than I am.”

“You cannot keep her from me.”

“You pay me by the hour, you have not bought my life or hers.”

“Think of what I can offer her, Sile. Where she can grow up?”

“As a bastard child? And what will become of her?” your mother spat back, venom lacing her words as she turned away from the shadowed man.

“She will be a lady of the court, educated.”

Your mother turned again, “I will educate her!”

“You? A whore? Educate her on what? How to make a male come as quickly as possible so you can reap the reward?”

Your mother raised her hand as if to slap the male, but he gripped her wrist as she fought against him. “You would dare to lay a hand on me?”

“Let go of me!” your mother screamed, her eyes wide in shock.

You reached your own hand out to her, trying to get to your feet, which felt bolted to the ground. As you called out “Mama!” your own voice was met with a smaller, child’s voice. From behind you, a small female ran forward, past you, to the male who turned, his face encased in shadows, unable to be identified. The little girl ran towards your mother. The male released her wrist as your mother bent to her knees and pulled the little girl, no more than 20 years old, barely a toddler, up into a hug, the child curling her face into her neck as your mother cradled the child’s head to her throat.

“So this is my daughter?” the male voice rang out, his hand reaching out to attempt to stroke the child.

Your mother turned around. “She is not your concern.”

“She is mine, Sile,” the male responded.

The small child turned her head, and when you caught her eyes, you realized that the child was you. What was this memory? Or were you so waterlogged you couldn’t pull fiction from reality?

“Mama?” the little voice cooed out.

“Come on, baby,” your mother turned to walk away. The male gripped her by her hair, ripping her back around as she screamed out in pain, the little child reaching up to her mother, beating on the male’s arms while screaming at him to let her go.

“You will not keep her from me. And you will not turn your back on me,” the male screamed into her face.

Your mother never let you go as the male leaned in close, whispering something in her ear as he continued to grip her and pull her in close despite her pleas. When he let her go, she fell to her knees as the male, still shrouded in shadows, turned and called out as he walked away, “You can’t hide her, Sile. Enjoy your life of luxury.” Your mother sobbed as she positioned her body over your own childhood form.

You felt soft, yet sharp claws growing around your mind, scraping through the blackness of the room, and then the scene was over. Your eyes shot open and you were met with Rhysand’s face staring down over you, sweat pouring down your forehead and back as you let go of the sheets you had clenched in your grip.

You gasped and shot forward as Rhysand's hands steadied you, “Shh,” he whispered, trying to calm your ragged breathing.

You wheezed, still feeling as if water was rattling around in your lungs.

In an instant, Nesta was by your side, her arms wrapped around your shoulders. Rhysand stepped back from the bed. “Just breathe,” she reminded you, positioning herself in front of you. Her soft hands cradled your face, her thumbs tracing calming patterns on your cheeks. You took slow, deep breaths in sync with her, your eyes locked on hers.

When you finally leveled out, you took in the other occupants of the room. Rhysand stood against the wall, arms crossed, looking at you with concern. Feyre, hair a mess in her sleeping dress, stood next to him, her nails to her lips. At the foot of the bed, Azriel's eyes were hardened and wide, his knuckles white as he gripped the bedpost.

You finally managed to ask, “What happened?”

Nesta dropped her hands to her lap. “You had a nightmare.”

“Why is everyone in here?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Nesta said, her voice trembling. “I tried shaking you, throwing water on you, screaming your name—nothing worked.”

Rhysand stepped in, “Nesta called me to help. I entered your mind to pull you out.”

You looked at him, your brows furrowing as you brought your hand to your temple, trying to calm the pounding within. “You did what?”

“I entered your mind,” Rhysand explained. “It’s one of my powers as High Lord. I can see what others are seeing and alter their thoughts.”

“You were in my mind?” you asked, incredulous.

Rhysand nodded.

“Have you,” you stammered, “have you been in my mind before?”

Rhysand’s eyes widened a bit as he chose his words carefully. “You seem to have a natural ability to shield my powers.”

Feyre added, “When you first got here, Rhys tried to help calm you down but couldn’t get past a wall you had put up.”

“I wouldn’t have entered without a good reason,” Rhysand said.

You shook your head, swallowing the bile that rose in your throat. “What did you see?”

Rhysand paused. “I saw your dream.”

“That wasn’t a memory. That never happened,” you shot back.

“I saw what you were dreaming, then. And you were screaming inside. I also felt another presence—a male.”

Azriel gripped the bedpost tighter.

Your eyes flitted between Azriel and Rhysand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhysand shifted slightly. “You never hear a voice other than your own in your head?”

You paused, considering.

“I ask,” Rhysand continued, “because it seems like a mated connection. It’s a bond, and yours was hidden, but I could still hear that voice.”

Azriel quickly released the bedpost, turning on his heel and leaving the room with a furious hiss.

Feyre’s face dropped as she pressed her hand into Rhysand’s shoulder, following Azriel out. Rhysand just looked at you, concern etched in his features.

You looked back and forth between Nesta and Rhysand, your hands clenching and unclenching the bed sheets damp with your sweat. Finally, you began, “What else did you see?”

Rhysand shrugged slightly, maintaining his serious demeanor. “Not much. You’ve built a very strong wall.”

Nesta turned over her shoulder to look at him. You tried to catch her expression but couldn’t quite make it out. Rhysand held up his hand to silence her before she could speak.

Nesta turned back to you, grabbing your hands in hers and offering a tight smile.

“I need to get some sleep,” Rhysand said. “Nesta, I’ll meet with you tomorrow.” Rhysand nodded in your direction, and you flashed him a thankful smile, tinged with slight embarrassment. Nesta didn’t turn to look at the High Lord, who quickly left the room, heading down the hall the same way Feyre had gone.

Nesta continued to hold your hands, her thumbs gently rubbing the backs. She swallowed, looking down and then back up at you. “Look,” she began, “you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I think it could help if you let me know even a little bit about what’s going on with you.” Her voice carried a slight plead. “You aren’t here. You always seem to be somewhere else.” She looked back down at her hands, her lips tightening. “I know what it’s like to be stuck inside yourself. And you don’t have to do that alone.”

You smiled lightly as Nesta looked back at you. “It’s nothing. I’m worrying you all for nothing. I just didn’t sleep well. Had a nightmare.”

Nesta scoffed slightly, and your eyes met hers. “Y/N, you’ve been screaming the same name every night. You thrash like someone is attacking you, you jump at every little sound, and if any male enters the room, you immediately tense up.”

You pulled your hands from Nesta’s, wrapping them around your knees, your face turned down.

“Y/N, I don’t want anything other than for you to feel safe,” Nesta offered.

“I do feel safe,” you responded.

“I want you to feel safe when you’re alone.”

You peered up at Nesta slightly. “Nesta, why are you doing all this?”

Nesta looked taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t know me.”

“Can’t I just want to help someone?”

You looked around the room. “Azriel brought me here, and you all have been generous in taking me in. But you don’t know me. You don’t have the time to be doing all of this, especially not Rhysand. And yet, you feed me, house me, care for me, and we’ve known one another not more than a few days.”

Nesta swallowed, just looking at you. “We just want what’s best for you.”

“Seems very generous.”

Nesta’s gaze turned slightly more distant as she scanned your eyes. You just stared back before you suddenly said, “Thank you, for everything, Nesta. But I think it’s time for me to go.”

You swung your legs over the side of the bed as Nesta tried to speak, calling out your name as you walked to the door.

“I’ll head out tomorrow morning,” you said, looking over your shoulder. “Please tell everyone thank you, for me.”

You could still hear Nesta calling your name as you walked down the hall, through the grand room, and back to your own suite, where you shut the door, laid down, and did not sleep.

To my lovely tagged readers, thank you for all the support and comments. It really encourages me to continue to write knowing that you all sit down with me for five minutes a day and get to peak into my head. Love you all!

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba

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lilisgardensblog · 1 year

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~Alluring Gaze~

Vyn Richter x Reader

"One kiss for one shell."

fem! reader, kissing, make out

A/N: I didn't actually read this card, but I'm in love with it so here's a fanfic based on it

You are walking by the sea shore, trying to calm your mind. You had an awfully busy schedule today and the stress was starting to get you. You had a headache all day, almost didn't turn in a very important file and even Mr. Wing asked you if you were okay. You said yes, but he sent you earlier home anyways.

Back at home you tried to do some work, but you simply couldn't concentrate. You were staring at your laptop screen for an hour, until you decided it's pointless. You got up and drove to the sea, the only place that could calm your mind in your current state.

Back in the present, you are walking by the sea shore gathering some pretty shells as the moonlight is guiding your every step. Busy collecting the shells for some handmade gift you wanted to make, you don't notice the pair of eyes that have been observing you for the past minutes. Or at least not until a tail hits the water near those golden eyes.

You stopped midway from picking up a shell, but quickly straightened your back as the eyes were moving closer toward you. You could now see blue ,ears like, fins peaking through the white locks of what you were sure of by now it's a merfolk. A very beautiful, alluring and curious merfolk.

Curious as well, you took a cautious, small step forward trying not to scare the merfolk and get yourself possibly drowned. The merman also swam closer and was now with its human half out of the water as the tail was still moving in the water.

You dropped to your knees so you two could be at the same height as you locked eyes with the mysterious merman. You were still unsure if he could understand you or not, but you decided to speak anyway just so you'll do something else then lose yourself in those golden eyes.

"Hi..." you said almost whispering, not daring to ruin the atmosphere.

He turned his head, looking at you with an amused yet impressed look. He almost looked proud of you for not running away and answered you back. "Hello"

Trying to keep the conversation going you ask the next question you could think of. "What is your name?" you asked and your curious gaze made the merfolk laugh. It was more of a low tone, amused giggle, but he answered you anyways.

"Where I come from they call me Vyn. What about you, pretty human?" His tone was unreadable, making you unsure why he took an interest in you. Maybe where he came from he lured all the mermaids and was uninterested in them so he decided to come above and find a naive human girl to play with.

"y/n" you answered and played with one of the shells near you as Vyn studied you, observing your every move, how you look around trying to gather your thoughts to form a question, but not sure what to ask first.

"Ask me." he spoke, getting closer to you, placing his hands on each side of your legs, trapping you with his body. You were now face to face with the merfolk that you thought would drown you and he was forcing you to put yourself together while he was towering over you, making your mind run wild. He figured you all out and knew you wanted to ask him something and was now patiently waiting for you to form the question. Gulping your distracting thoughts you asked.

"What are you doing here?"

He looked pleased with your question or maybe he was simply pleased that you finally managed to ask something and confirm that he was right and you had a question lingering at the tip of your tongue.

"I was simply swimming in my waters when I sensed a new presence in my territory and it appears the intruder had the audacity to even steal my belongings."

You were shocked. It appears that Vyn was accusing you of going into his territory when you walked on this sea shore millions of times. It's true that you didn't do your weekly walks in the past couple of months, but no one accused you of transpassing before. Or worse, of stealing.

"Excuse yourself, but first, it's not the first time I'm walking around here and second, I'm not stealing anything."

The corners of his lips raised and you realized you might have said something against yourself. An attorney that couldn't protect itself, the universe was laughing at you today and this was the cherry on top for all your misfortunes.

"So you admit you've been transpassing multiple times and deny that you're not taking with you the shells you've been collecting since you came here?" he was enjoying this. The look on your face, stunned and out of words, as he was simply stating the evidence from his point of view.

You reminded yourself you're an attorney and as shitty as this day went you still had to defend yourself. "There is no sort of warning that states this is a private territory and I'm sure these shells have no owner as they are spread by the sea in a public zone."

He laughed once again. "I think I might like you ,human.Fine I'll offer you my shells, but not for free. You have to agree with my conditions if you want them." Unsure of what he meant, you nodded, waiting for Vyn to specify the conditions.

"One kiss for one shell."

You could feel your cheeks getting warm as the distracting thoughts you pushed back moments ago were brought back with one sentence.

"You can pick the placement of each kiss, I won't force you to do anything against your will, darling."

You looked at your shells. They were 5 in total and you considered for a moment letting them there and going back home. You could gather shells in another day without a blue tailed merfolk accusing you or even better you could find another beach to pick up shells. But what if another beach had another merfolk?

"So that means just 5 kisses?"

"Indeed."

"Wherever I want?"

"Mhm."

"Well then...." you took a deep breath and placing both your hands on his face you kissed his left cheek then his right cheek. "That means 2 shells, right?"

He nodded and you leaned in once again and kissed his forehead. "3 shells..." you kept count. "2 more to go" Vyn seemed to try and encourage you but you realized you're running out of options.

You leaned in again, kissing the tip of his nose, making him pull back a second in disbelief. He looked like a little kitten who got an unexpected nose boop. "one more to go..." you whispered looking at the last place you could kiss him, admiring his lips. How they moved slightly in expectation, waiting for you to decide.

Leaning in one last time, you slowly kissed his lips. You were ready to announce that you finally earned all your shells, but Vyn caught your lips again and deepened the kiss. It wasn't anything forceful, letting you decide if you want to break the kiss or not.

You placed your arms behind his neck, pulling him closer, letting him know you wanted this as much as he wanted it. His hands travelled down the curve of your waist and back up caressing your round br3asts. You moaned in the kiss and moved your hand through his hair, giving it a slight pull making the merfolk moan into your arms.

His lips moved from your lips to your neck, exploring and leaving a small bruise with each kiss. You raised your head to allow him to mark every inch of your skin as your hands were moving through his hair and then moving to feel his chest, his heart pounding as quickly as yours.

He came back up to find your lips again, both of you lost in the moment. His warmth against yours, his hands on your body and your hands on his, everything felt perfect.

But the moment was interrupted by a passing car, both of you pulling away at the sudden sound. Vyn looked down at you, admiring his work. You were sure you looked like a mess and all he did was kiss you. You could feel your hair being messy and your neck was pulsating under the sudden love marks. But he wasn't any better. His wet hair was now messy thanks to your hands and was now slightly covering his eyes and his lips were covered in your lipstick, now a bit smudged from the previous actions. While both of you tried to catch your breath, Vyn let you stand again, giving you a hand to raise yourself from the sand. You were sitting crossed legged, trying to fix your hair as both of you were shocked by what happened.

You cleared your throat and broke the silence.

"I think I need to leave." Vyn nodded and handed you your shells not saying anything. "Thank you" you added, ready to leave. You turned one last time and gave the merfolk one last kiss before leaving for good, going back to your car.

vyn pov

'She left so soon, leaving me on the sea shore, watching her figure turn smaller and smaller as she went further away....I saw the hesitation in her eyes before kissing me. Maybe she thought I was just messing with the first human girl I've seen....I've never felt this. The way my heart skipped a beat, before beating miles per hour....Who is she really?'

The blue merfolk spoke in the wind as his finger tips touched his lips, where her lips were moments ago. Such an ironic situation. He finally found someone that made him want to live again and she was a human. A mere mortal that should bow before him and yet he was willing to worship her if he could have the chance to see her one more time.

(this was so fun to write live laugh love vyn)

#tears of themis vyn #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis #vyn ritcher x reader #tot vyn #vyn richter #vyn x reader #vynxreader #mihoyo #tot imagines #tears of themis x y/n #tears of themis smut #vyn richter x reader

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lowkeychenle · 1 year

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Late Nights [LMH]

Description: Mark's busy schedule only gives him time to come over late at night, but it's safe to say neither of you are complaining by the time you fall asleep.

Genre: Fluff/Smut (Shower sex for the win, but anyway, unedited and maybe not my best work but I just wrote this today in the last hour haha sorry in advance)

Content Warnings: Explicit unprotected sex (don't do this LOL)

Word Count: 1,801

Pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

Juliet's Masterlist

It’s well past midnight by the time the door to your apartment opens. After several months of making your relationship official, you’re used to this—to Mark coming to see you late at night because that’s when he finally gets out of practice.

He always tells you not to wait up for him, but you do anyway.

The sight of his silhouette in your peripheral vision has you turning in his direction. He runs his fingers through his freshly-dyed blond hair, a sigh escaping his lips as he walks toward you. Sitting on the edge of your bed, he gives you the slightest hint of a smile, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You’re awake.”

“You say that like sleeping without you is easy.” You reach over and intertwine your fingers. “How was practice?”

“It was alright,” he says. “Something was wrong with me today, I think. I couldn’t get any of the moves down.”

“How dare you have an off day, Mark Lee?” You narrow your eyes playfully at him, and he chuckles.

“Donghyuck is gonna kick my ass if I keep ditching him for you.” Mark rubs his thumb along your palm. “You’re much more fun than he is.”

“I think you could take him.” You sit up, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

“I was gonna hop in the shower real quick. Care to join me?” He quirks an eyebrow at you, and immediately, you know you’re putty in his hands. You nod, allowing him to pull you toward the bathroom. He flicks the light on, shrouding you both in fluorescent lighting.

Flinching at the sudden change, he lets out a tiny groan. You take a moment to appreciate him, the way his messy hair still somehow looks effortless on the top of his head, the too-large T-shirt nearly swallowing him whole. Two braids rest on either side of his face. They must’ve filmed something today if they styled him like this. You love it, though. It suits him well.

You help him take them out, starting the water. After months, he has yet to figure out how to work your shower. You’re sure, in reality, that he just wants you to do it for him. He’d never admit it out loud.

As soon as the shower’s ready, his hands are already sliding beneath your shirt. He moves sluggishly, as if his practice took a lot out of him today. Instead of teasing him about it, you allow him to remove your clothes before working on his own. Although, you’re not entirely sure getting clean is his goal when you two step beneath the steaming stream of water. Your back is pressed against chilled tile before you have the chance to register the drastic change in temperature.

He grips your waist, dropping his head on your shoulder. Pressing a kiss there, he takes a deep breath. You rest your head back on the wall, allowing him to do whatever it is he wants. It’s late, and you’re exhausted, but, unfortunately, this is really the only alone time you and Mark are allowed together.

In the morning, he’ll be gone by eight.

“Are you tired?” he whispers, fingertips tracing along the curve of your ass.

You grasp his hair, gently tugging him back so you can look into his eyes. Shaking your head, you lean forward and brace yourself for the electricity that comes with his touch. “Never too tired for you.”

Just as you suspect, his lips send a shiver down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him beginning to harden against your stomach. Without another thought, you deepen the kiss, whimpering when his tongue enters your mouth.

“You’ll be the death of me one day, you know that?” he mutters, gathering your hands in his and pinning them above your head. “I missed you today.”

“Only today?” you tease him.

“Every second of every day,” he responds, touch dancing from your hip and dipping dangerously close to where you need him.

You’re already squirming, pushing yourself toward him in a feeble attempt to spur him forward. He slides one finger along your entrance.

“You’re always so ready for me.” His voice rumbles through your skin, sending another bout of warmth between your legs.

Knowing he’s about to give in, you close your eyes, rest your head against the tile, and widen your stance to allow him better access. Two of his fingers slide in with ease, and the sound that leaves your mouth echoes off the walls.

“I love you,” he whispers. “You look so beautiful like this.”

As much as you’re dying to touch him, his grip on your wrists is firm. You don’t want to test him tonight, not when he’s looking at you like you’re everything he’s ever wished for. He keeps a steady pace, eyes analyzing your face.

“I wish I could be inside you like this all the time.” He sets his forehead against yours, the deep brown of his eyes whirling with all the emotions he doesn’t get to show to you during the day.

“Need more,” you say, rolling your hips to aid his pace.

“Are you sure you’re ready for me?” he asks, thumb brushing your clit.

Your body jolts in response, craving him in every way possible.

“You don’t want to finish like this first?”

You shake your head. “Mark.”

He hums in response, gently removing his fingers from you. His gaze catches yours as he slides them between his lips instead, a low moan emanating as he sucks your arousal from them.

“God, you taste good.”

You don’t have to say another word. He releases your wrists and grips your waist instead, hoisting you upward. You latch your legs around his waist and your hands tangle in his hair. He slams his lips against yours, your mouths melding together in a harmony you’ve only ever been able to accomplish with him.

The kiss is messy, teeth clashing despite somewhat slower movements. He reaches down to grab his cock, sliding it along your entrance. A whine escapes you, but he swallows it with ease. Steam wafts around the two of you, the water mostly hitting Mark’s back. If he wasn’t pressed so closely to you, you’d be shivering.

“Are you sure?” He dips down to kiss your neck, tongue leaving a trail of saliva along your thundering pulse.

“Positive.”

He shifts a bit before you feel his tip. Your breath catches in your throat as he slowly slides in, stretching you to your limit just like he did every other time. Arching your back, you dig your nails into his shoulders.

Your name tumbles from his lips, and his eyes roll back before he clenches them shut. Without wasting a moment, he starts moving, breathing ragged as he takes you slowly. His eyebrows furrow. You can’t help the moans leaving you every time he sheathes himself inside completely.

Both of you are usually partial to dirty talking, but today, he seems to just want to relish in the feeling and sounds he pulls from you.

He hits a spot inside of you that has you calling out louder and holding on tighter than before. Tonight, he grunts with each thrust, occasionally allowing your name to mingle with the steam.

His cock feels heavenly inside of you, rubbing and sliding against your walls as if he were made just for you. The slow pace drives you crazy, near making you beg for me. Like he can read your mind, his hand trails between the two of you and rubs circles on your clit.

The bubble in the pit of your stomach starts to tighten, and you try to stop yourself from getting lost in the pleasure. Everything about his movements is precise. He does it the way he knows you like it, having learned your body and what gets you off since you began dating.

The second you catch the dark, lustful look in his eyes, the bubble bursts. You swear your vision blurs as your hips slam toward his. Unintentionally, you scratch down his biceps to ground yourself, leaving angry red marks in your wake.

His thrusts pick up as he chases his high. Once his breathing picks up, you know he’s only moments away from following your lead. You kiss him, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip and tugging it.

His voice cracks mid-whine as he presses himself as deep as he can get. He curses, spilling inside you. You remain in this position for a moment, both of you breathing heavily as he showers your face and shoulders with kisses.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he groans.

“Says you.” You let out a breathless laugh, tracing the marks on his arms. “I guess it’ll be long sleeves for you this week.”

“Worth it.” He grins and pulls out of you. Setting you back on your feet, he pulls you underneath the stream of water. “I guess we should actually shower now, huh?”

The rest of it is spent with you helping him wash, and you even spend a little bit of time massaging his shoulders. He stares at you lovingly, head tilted with a slight smile playing on his lips.

“You’re everything, you know that?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I do. You didn’t have to stay up and wait for me. Hell, you didn’t even have to let me come over tonight. My schedule sucks, and I’m sorry about that, but I can’t help but love the way you’re okay with adapting to it.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “No matter what you think, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You allow his words to sink in. They said a bout of heat to your cheeks, surely turning you red. He intertwines your fingers together.

“I’m keeping you up,” Mark murmurs. “Let’s get out and go to bed.”

He kisses you one last time before turning the water off and grabbing a towel for you. As soon as you’re dry, neither of you bother to put clothes on. He climbs into your bed with you. Like it’s a reflex, he pulls you to his chest and kisses the top of your head.

Sure, you didn’t have to let him come over and you definitely didn’t have to stay up waiting for him, but these moments with him are your favorite. They’re the ones you will always remember, even when his schedule starts to slow down and he’s free to spend more of his time with you.

He falls asleep with your head on his chest, his heart thumping steadily and soft snores escaping him. You smile, realizing you’d never trade these late nights for anything.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #mark lee #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagine #mark lee x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader

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chelseasdagger · 1 year

Text

Restoring Faith

Father Paul Hill x Reader

Summary: You pay Father Paul one of your midnight visits and he finds himself struggling with his sworn devotion

Warnings: religious themes, sacrilege, smut, oral over clothes (m!receiving)

Author’s Note: This is a late birthday present for @chellestrash , my true love of my life, and I hope I’ve done this little idea you love justice :’) I’m absolutely positive I didn’t make it sounds as pretty as some of the other fics, but I hope it will be alright :)

Word Count: 4k

The cold air sends a shiver down your spine as the gravel crunches beneath your feet. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you keep your head down to protect your face from the wind. You follow the path that connects the great big church to the smaller house just behind it, the trail only visible due to the moonlight pouring down from above.

You’re no idiot, you’re aware anybody could see your somewhat frequent visits to see him. However, you convinced yourself that it was okay to go, so long as you waited past midnight to take the trip. Whether it was actually a valid excuse was a whole other subject. One you didn’t particularly want to think of and potentially use to talk yourself out of doing this.

Stepping up the old, creaky stairs of the small porch, you give one last glance over your shoulder to the abandoned street the church faces. There’s not a person in sight and you raise your hand to knock on the wooden door.

It opens after a moment and you smile at the sight of the priest in front of you. He’s dressed completely in black, excluding the stark white collar that frames his neck. You can’t help your eyes from giving him a quick once over, taking in the dark button up shirt tucked into the form fitting slacks that drape down his legs. His voice calling your name brings your gaze back to his face.

“How…,” he trails off, craning his neck higher and looking past you, “how can I help you?” His greeting is stiff, and you know he’s worried about curious eyes possibly seeing you here. You can’t fight the way your lips pull into a smirk at the idea of him already getting nervous.

“I just had a question, Father,” you begin to explain, and notice him looking at you with cautious eyes. “Is that not what you said? That we can come to you and seek guidance? Ask questions about our faith?” You can admit that it was slightly unfair using his own words against him, but it works all the same. He bows his head before nodding once, silently stepping aside and allowing you to walk inside.

It’s the same as it always was, with the couch being the only real centerpiece to the room. The curtains are drawn closed on each of the windows and it gives the sense of seclusion from the rest of the small island. The three lamps that line the right wall are all lit, painting everything in a warm glow. You’ll never get over how welcoming his home was, how it provided a safe space when you needed an escape.

The sound of the door clicking shut makes you turn around to face him. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, slightly hesitant as he stays silent and waits for you to speak first.

“Nobody saw me, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you flash him a cheeky smirk. Paul responds wordlessly with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He steps further into the room, his arm brushing yours as he walks to the small, open kitchen area.

“I haven’t seen you at Mass,” he finally breaks his silence. You watch as he grabs an empty glass from the drying rack beside the sink before filling it with water from the tap. “Can I get you anything?” he offers with wide eyes, motioning towards the cup in his hand.

“I was sick,” you pick the first thing that comes to mind, “allergy stuff since the weather is changing.” The lie rolls right off your tongue. You watch as he drinks his water down, fixating on the way his Adam's apple moves with each swallow. Giving yourself a mental shake, you answer his earlier question.

“And I’m okay, thanks,” you decline his offer as you lean against the back of the couch. The priest says nothing but gives a solemn look your way.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” he speaks gently into the quiet room. His dark, brown eyes look sincere, enforcing the truth behind his words. There’s a small pout on his lips and you’re not sure if it’s from your faux illness or if he can somehow sense that you’re not speaking the truth. Either way, he continues with the conversation.

“But I’m glad you’re feeling better. W-What can I do for you?” He sets his glass down on the small counter beside him. “You… um, mentioned seeking guidance? What about?” His eyes are focused onto yours and you find yourself only able to keep eye contact for a few seconds before his stare feels like too much.

“Well,” you begin with a light laugh under your breath, “I just wanted to have you read to me again.” Your fingers toy with the thick seam of the couch cushion. “Is that okay? It just—it helps, is all.” You’re not certain the explanation makes a ton of sense, but there is truth behind it. His words help; it relaxes you to come and listen to him read, even if you don’t always find yourself secure in the faith you grew up with.

When you look up at him again, Paul is standing with a genuine smile on his face. It’s clear he likes hearing that he can help, and you feel a twinge of guilt shoot through your chest at how he genuinely enjoys what he does. It makes you being here that much worse, knowing how content and devout he is.

“Of course, I-I can do that,” he replies, his voice somehow even quieter than before. “Did you have a certain story you wanted me to read from?”

You think over his question for only a short moment. Deep down, you knew you could listen to him speak about even the most mundane things, including what he had eaten for breakfast. His voice was the thing to calm you, not the words he spoke.

“I don’t really care. Whatever you’d like, whatever we left off with,” you flash him a small smile. The priest nods only once before walking towards his bedroom, disappearing into the shadows of the small corridor leading to the door.

You let out a big breath of air you weren’t even aware you were holding in. Being alone with him felt good, it always did, but you couldn’t deny the guilt once again growing in your chest. Deep down, you knew this was wrong, but it always felt good when the guilt shaped to something else. Something stronger and impossibly difficult to ignore.

There’s only a small moment for self reflection before you hear his footsteps echoing out on the wood floor again. You glance towards the sound and find him returning back into the main room with the Bible wedged between his arm and his side. His fingers are busy, rolling the fabric of his long sleeve up to just above his elbow. As inch after inch of his skin is exposed, you find yourself unable to look away from the veins trailing up the inside of his arm.

He repeats his actions on the opposite side, gazing up at you from under the few strands of hair that have fallen out of place. Your lip finds its way between your teeth subconsciously, your own way of anchoring yourself and ignoring the need to tuck the loose curls back behind his ear.

“In moments where I truly begin to doubt my faith, I…” he trails off, fixing the last roll of his cuff over his forearm. He grabs the Bible and brushes his thumb over the raised letters as he continues, “I like to look back on the story of Job.”

You can’t even stop the exasperated sigh that leaves your body. He looks up at the sound, his head tilted slightly like a confused puppy.

“Job? Really, Father? I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of restoring faith,” you curl your fingers to create air quotes over the last two words. Paul gives a small smile, lowering his head. He’s dealt with your opinions regarding faith and why God allows things to happen as He does.

“Maybe… maybe to some but I-I find that it’s a reminder,” his voice is quiet and calm, already slipping into his usual pattern of speech when he’s behind the lectern. He steps deeper into the living room and passes by you, making his way to the empty couch.

“A reminder to trust in Him even when we’re not sure of-of the path,” he finishes. You’re thankful he’s behind your back so he doesn’t see the way your eyes roll at his canned response. He must’ve seen the tension in your body though, taking note of the way your arms are still crossed over your chest, because he tries once more to get you to listen.

“You do remember that he was rewarded? In the end?”

“Yeah, but he went through hell to get it… hardly seems fair,” you answer him.

“Well, the Lord, He—,”

“If you say ‘Works in mysterious ways’…” you cut him off with a warning glare as you finally turn to face him.

Paul lets out a breathy laugh, staring down at the thick book in his hands. “I was only going to say that He doesn’t always…” he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words, “reveal His plans to us in a way that makes sense at the time. That’s all,” he finishes with a tight-lipped smile.

There’s a brief moment of silence that hangs in the air as you wait for him to move past this conversation. His quick inhale fills the room as he clears his throat quietly, his arm gesturing towards the couch.

“Shall we?”

“Of course,” you respond softly, your words tucked under your breath. He walks around to the front of the couch, his eyes fixed on you as you follow his path. He sits down as his fingers curl around the blue, knitted blanket that’s sprawled out across the cushion beside him.

“Here, let me—,” he doesn’t finish his sentence before draping it across the back of the couch. There’s a spot for you now, close enough that you knew you’d be touching him if you sat beside him. As tempting as the offer is, you find yourself shaking your head gently.

“Is-is something wrong?” he asks, his big, dark eyes searching yours. They’re wide and innocent, truly worrying that he overstepped. Once again, you’re reminded of how pure the man before you is; you nearly reconsider your original idea that made you seek him out tonight in the first place.

You shake your head as you stand in front of him, silently kneeling down and sitting on the floor. The priest’s expression instantly grows apprehensive. You flash him an innocent smile but his unsure glare never falters.

“I’ll just listen from here,” you tell him, trying to ease his worries. He looks hesitant but eventually swallows before opening the Bible. His long fingers splay out across the thin pages, turning them one after the other before finally stopping on a page.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words flowing effortlessly off of his tongue. His voice falls into the deep, rumbly tone that you only ever hear when he’s reading to you. There’s no audience, no image he has to maintain, and the words are so quiet it seems almost as if he’s reading to himself. You’ve always preferred these moments, when he appeared the most authentic he could be.

The more he reads the more comfortable you feel. Your body begins to relax and an idea strikes up in your mind. As he turns the next page, bringing in a deep inhale to continue the sentence, you let your head rest against his knee.

He immediately stutters over his words, repeating the same sound over and over. He never breaks his concentration though, and eventually pushes through and finishes the sentence. Not before flashing you a warning look as you rest your cheek against his leg, though.

It isn’t entirely inappropriate and would even be seen as a normal, platonic gesture. But given his profession, you knew it was absolutely not appropriate. You don’t pull away however, just keep your body slumped against his leg.

He continues speaking the old words, his pronounced sentences dissipating into muttered whispers the longer he goes on. Admittedly, you felt special that this tone was reserved only for you; there was a faint flare of pride in your chest knowing that you were the only one to hear his words so rumbly it’s as if they never fully left his chest.

At some point though, you begin to grow bored of just sitting there and waiting for him to finish. Usually these late night reads brought your anxiety down enough just to fall asleep on the priest, leaving him in the most awkward position of not knowing how to convince himself any of this was okay. But right now, you’d rather have some fun.

Paul knew something was up the second he saw your hand reaching towards him out of the corner of his eye. The muscles in his leg immediately tense, you feel it from under your skin. But you don’t want to raise his suspicion so soon.

Stretching further towards the Bible in his lap, you spread your fingers and place both palms over each side. Once his view is completely shielded from the printed words, he immediately looks into your mischievous eyes.

“What—what are you doing?” he asks confusedly. His eyebrows are pulled together as he awaits your answer.

“Just wanted to see how much you knew,” you reply genuinely. You knew the man had poured over this book time and time again, searching for meanings deeper than the blatant lessons that were spelled out for the reader. It always sent a conflicting feeling coursing through you, the way he could recite word after word from memory as if he was the one who had conjured them up. Conflicting because you liked the reminder of how devout he was, and isn’t that just a multifaceted guilt trip.

Paul smiles at your youthful game, and mentally accepts the challenge. He parts his lips before the words fall from his tongue.

“And when the days of the feast had run their course, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all,” he begins, never looking away from your face as he repeats them with no hesitation.

“For Job said, ‘It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.’” The priest can’t stop from chuckling at the end of his sentence, having looked at your own genuine, bright grin. “Thus Job did continually.”

Once he’s finished, he flashes you his own smile before glancing down at your hands covering the pages still. You slowly remove them, giggling under your breath at how he passed your unofficial test.

The priest licks his lips once before clearing his throat gently, continuing again with his reading. As the minutes pass, you find yourself not paying much attention to the actual weight of the words. You just focus on his muttering voice until you're reminded of how sweet his last stutter sounded. And because you just can’t help yourself, you’re determined to hear it again.

Snaking your hand up his thigh, you feel his body grow stiff all over again. That adorable stutter becomes prominent once more, his eyes quickly focusing on your fingers rubbing up the inside of his leg as he attempts to finish the paragraph. Trying to pace your plan, you curl your fingers around his thigh and give him a moment to get used to the feeling.

“What are you doing?” These words are the coldest he’s spoken all night, yet you stay silent and wait. It takes him longer this time to finally react, to give his consent in the smallest agreement possible. It’s so minuscule that anybody else wouldn’t have noticed, but you know him awfully more than you should.

Half a nod. That’s all it takes, and you let your fingers graze lightly over the black slacks. They're taught from how he’s sitting, and you can see the outline of his thigh through the stretched material. His voice shakes now, the tone less steady and sure, as he forces himself to keep reading.

You’ve got to admit he’s doing better than you thought. He doesn’t stop reading, you assume he’s just trying to focus on something else, anything but your hand moving between his thighs. You must’ve hit a sweet spot though, inching near the little alcove where his thigh meets his hip, because the next thing you hear is a shuddering exhale as he halts his reading.

And there it is only a second later—the outline of his cock showing through the dark dress pants. It never took very long, although this time it seems even quicker than usual. He continues to grow there, until you can see the fabric straining to accommodate for his now swollen head. You’ve barely touched him and he’s already so responsive.

Now that you can physically see the effect you have on him, there’s truly nothing that can stop you. Sure the nagging guilt is still in the back of your mind, telling you that you shouldn’t do this, but you push it away as much as you can. He looks so tempting right now: the loose strands of hair falling into his face, his lip caught between his teeth as he suppresses his groans, the faint twitch his cock gives when he feels your finger lightly drag along the base of his length. You love seeing him this desperate for you.

Your one finger lightly tracing the length of him is truly all it takes for the first twitch to happen in his trousers. The sight makes your mouth nearly water and you finally curl your fingers around him properly. Your grip isn’t too tight considering it’s over two layers of clothes, but it doesn’t stop the choked grunt from finally escaping his lips.

Still you continue, leaning closer until your breath is fanning over the bulge. He feels it, you can tell from the way his fingers clutch the book that’s resting on his other leg. The veins in the back of his hand become more prominent the harder he grabs it. Every part of his body is conflicting itself; he wants it but he knows he shouldn’t.

Still you wait, staring up at him and silently asking again if this is okay. He doesn’t stall as much this time—his eyes squeeze shut tightly before nodding quickly again, forcing another inhale through his nose.

You don’t waste a second and quickly press your tongue flat against the outline of his tip. Slowly licking along the length, you watch his body reel from how hard his stomach clenches at the feeling. He begins to shut the Bible but you grab his wrist before it can close all the way. You shake your head slowly, attempting to convince him to keep it open.

“Y…You know I can’t.”

“I like hearing you, Father,” you mumble quietly in the room. He stares down at you with an expression you can’t quite describe. There’s no emotion on his face, but his eyes look pained, no doubt from the name you referred to him as. He hardly moves except for the shallow breaths that you can only notice because of how close you are to him.

Waiting for his reaction seems to drag on for hours before he finally sighs through his nose and opens the book. You notice the way his fingers shake as he smooths out the page before trying to remember where he left off. Your lips pull into a smile as you hear his strained voice fill the room.

Squeezing the base of his cock tighter, you drag your tongue across his tip again before wrapping your lips around it. The story is cut off with his deep grunt, and you hum around him at the pleasant noise. The priest has his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling as he tries to regain his composure.

You knew this was an awful, sacrilegious act you two were doing, but it doesn’t stop the heat growing between your legs. Leaning closer into him, you work your mouth on him faster, sucking harder through the fabric. His hand closest to you grips the edge of the seat as he seethes through his teeth.

Paul finally looks down at you, staring into your eyes that have never once left his face. You hold his gaze before glancing wordlessly to the book still in his hand. The whimper that he barely slips out is your new favorite sound, replaying it in your head as you shut your eyes.

“A-As long as… m…my breath,” he’s cut off with a shaky inhale. He tries to read aloud, but his voice trembles the entire time.

“Keep going, Father,” you pull your mouth away from the outline in his black trousers to encourage him. There’s a long, dark stripe along the fabric from your tongue, but another wet patch where the head of his cock is straining against the material.

“As long as my-my breath is in me, and t-the spirit of God is in my nostrils—,” he’s finding each word more impossible to speak. You never allow him to give up though, rubbing your hand over his thigh to support him.

“My lips will not speak f…falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit.” He manages to finish the paragraph before taking deep breaths, swallowing thickly and trying his damndest to not look at the sinful scene in his lap. But his body betrays him once more, twitching into your mouth when you hum sweetly around him as a reward for finishing what you asked him to.

Pressing your tongue right in the ridge under his swollen head, you hear a new sound escape his pressed lips. It's a guttural, raw twist of your name and it’s unexpected.

“Oh… Oh—Wait,” he tries to warn you but it’s much too late. His release happens without him realizing, his body moving while his mind doesn’t have a chance to catch up. When you feel him pulsing in your mouth you glance up at him and oh, what a sight it is.

He’s completely disheveled, biting down into his hand to muffle the noise he’s ashamed for anyone to hear, and the veins in his neck are protruding just above the edge of his collar. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him like this, but you always make sure to memorize the sight down to those details. To always keep the picture in your mind.

What really catches your attention though, is the stream of white bubbling up through the taught fabric around his sensitive tip. You didn’t realize he would have finished quite this fast, but you definitely don’t mind it. Squeezing the middle of his length tightly, you slowly slide your hand up, determined to get all of it out of him.

Paul’s thighs are beginning to shake from the sensation and you can only imagine how good it must feel for him. You stick your tongue out as you lap up the mess he’s made, and his thighs jolt to close around your body. His sensitivity to your every touch leaves a desire that burns hotly in the bottom of your stomach. You love the feeling of having power over him, admittedly too much.

Once he’s clean, you finally let go of him altogether and sit back on your legs. He’s left panting in awe as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You wish you could see inside his head, try and understand what he’s thinking. But right now his dark eyes are glossed over and he looks as if he’s somewhere completely else.

“Thank you, Father.”

He scrunches his eyes shut tightly the second the words fill the air. It’s silent except for his panting as you rest your head on his knee once more. This time it is a platonic action, your way of showing him you’re there without words. And there you sit beside your priest in the small, old house behind the great big church, with the weight of everything that just happened.

#father paul x reader #father paul fanfic #paul hill x reader #midnight mass fanfiction #midnight mass fanfic #hamish linklater fanfiction #hierophilia #as someone who grew up christian i did feel a lil guilty writing this #HOWEVER #he cute.#chelsea writes #happy birthday pea!

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lnfours · 1 year

Note

PLEASE HEAR ME OUT😭 Nate x facesitting

He’s just drunk on how much more intense the sensations are with ur wet pussy almost directly inside his mouth🥺plus the view and sounds of u enjoying yourself while he tonguefucks u into another dimension😭😭😭💀then eventually begging him to at least slow down because he’s been using ur clit as a pacifier for the past 20 minutes and you’re pretty sure another orgasm will have you passing out😩

anon.. i’m speechless. i truly am dead. i need him. need him so bad.

18+ under the cut.

💌 inbox

nate was the kind of guy to always make sure your needs were fulfilled. in the bedroom and in the most soft, romantic ways possible. wether it was making sure you were drinking enough water, or having you climb on top of him after a bad day, he was always happy to help.

today was no different. he could tell you were stressed, so he wanted to help. when he practically begged you to sit on his face, you obviously couldn’t say no.

now, your legs were shaking on either side of his head, hands gripping the headboard. he had been at this for a solid 20 minutes, trying to help you achieve your third orgasm of the night from his mouth.

you moaned softly, his tongue working wonders, as always, “nate.”

he pulled away, “yeah, baby? feel good?”

you nodded, gasping softly as his tongue slipped inside of you. you moaned loudly, his brown eyes meeting yours. the view was damn near enough for you to come right there.

“c’mon, pretty girl,” he licked a stripe back up to your clit, “come for me.”

you threw your head back, his lips tightening over the bud and sucking. you absentmindedly reached down and threaded your hand through his hair, tugging slightly. he moaned into your pussy, working his tongue faster to get you there.

“so close,” you said breathlessly.

he stuck his tongue out flat, grabbing your hips and rocking them back and forth. you moaned out as his hands came up to tug at your nipples.

“ride my face,” he said, “come on, baby. i’ve got you.”

you did as he told you to, rocking back and forth on his mouth, his nose bumping your clit.

you finally felt the feeling in your stomach, your eyes rolling back as you moaned, “i’m gonna come.”

“come for me, honey,” he said, tongue flicking back to your clit, “c’mon.”

you felt your orgasm take through you and you moaned softly, his hands gripping at your hips to keep you situated on his mouth.

you moved from above his face, his lips and chin glistening in the soft light. you felt the wetness pool between your legs once again just at the sight of you all over his face.

he smirked at you, “feeling better?”

you nodded, “much.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #spider-man #spiderman #nathan drake #nate drake #nathan drake smut #nathan drake blurb #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #blurb #smut #mail time #new moon

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starfall-spirit · 4 months

Text

Read on Ao3 // Chapter II

Summary: After one last screaming match and a good cry, Feyre is finally ready to move on from her lousy ex and rebuild the life he took her away from. She didn't imagine she'd be right back in the thick of it, reviving buried feelings for her best friend's cousin.

OR;

Feyre dumps Tamlin, moves back to big city life, and gets herself an alpha who will treat her right.

AN: Omegaverse!Feysand, as promised. A gift for @whatishowedyouinthedark. If you hadn't posted Too Sweet, I don't know that this would have left the drafts. This ended up being 4.3k, but there will be a morning after chapter as well.

CW: NSFW, mildly dubious consent/coercion

Chapter I

“You sure you’re alright, Feyre?” Another ounce of weight seemed to lift from her shoulders at the soft worry in Mor’s voice. “I know you don’t really want to talk about this yet, but I’m always here for you.”

“I know. And I’m okay, Mor. I’ll be even better in, oh—” She lifted her wrist enough to glance at the time. “—six hours when you meet me outside SFO.” Her friend stayed quiet a moment longer. “I’ve wasted so much time and energy on that guy. He doesn’t deserve my tears too.”

“Damn right. I can’t wait to see you. It’s been so long, Feyre.”

“I know.”

That’s what it had really come to. The lost time. The isolation. A year ago, Feyre had been at the center of it all, her art sales lucrative enough to keep her head above water, her friend circle close but full of life. When Tamlin’s work had taken him out of the big city and to someplace more remote, Feyre had imagined it would be temporary. Her “nest egg” from her art sales would only need to hold her for a few months before she could dive right back into dealing with her clientele face-to-face.

But whatever silver lining her situation came with was in short supply. Hopeful as she had been once upon a time, nothing could change the fact that this move halfway across the country was made with only the purpose of separating her from the life and people she knew. Feyre was just ashamed it had taken her so long to see it herself. She’d confronted him last night and the truth had all come to light. “So what if your account is running low? Do I not take care of you regardless? I thought this was what you wanted, Feyre. Isn’t this what all omegas want? Someone to depend on?”

It turned out Feyre and Tamlin’s views on designations were worlds apart.

After a devastating break up fight and a good long cry, Feyre had locked herself in the guest room and called Mor with the promise that she was scraping together what she had left and coming home the next afternoon. “Say no more, Feyre. I’ll get Rhysie to make that ticket first class for you.”

“Don’t you dare, Mor.” But for the first time in months there had been laughter beneath her words. For once she didn’t find herself rolling her eyes when Mor reminded her that her older cousin was rich and single, last she heard of it. Not that Feyre’s memory needed jogging on that point. Ever since Rhys had stepped into her first art showing, oozing raw confidence and control, she’d been no better than a school girl doodling hearts and initials in her journal margins. But he’d then flown out to manage his father’s New York business, his return to California only in the past few months, when Feyre was long gone herself.

She shook off the flush running through her body, trying to focus on Mor jabbering in her ear about events around the city. Served her right, lusting after an alpha so far out of her league. Rhys might be nice enough to buy her paintings or bump her flight ticket to first class, but she certainly had no illusions that he would be the male helping her through her next heat. Hell, by now he likely had an omega of his own, hand-selected by his prick of a father.

Not exactly fond of the flare of… something… that thought sent through her, Feyre stood, pacing the few feet she dared from her carry-on in the crowded terminal. “Hey, girl. We’ll be boarding any minute. Can I let you go for now?”

“Absolutely. Love you lots. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t eat anything huge. We’ve got dinner plans.”

~~~~~

Dinner plans amounted to a delivery of Feyre’s favorite chinese food not even five minutes after she was settled in from the car ride home. “You spoil me, Mor,” she said, setting down her chopsticks long enough to shrug into the oversized hoodie behind her that smelled absolutely delightful for some reason and debate the nearly identical bottles of red nail polish in front of her. Her friend certainly had a signature color.

“Someone has to,” Mor groused, starting an episode of a cop show they’d seen one too many times. “If you won’t spoil yourself, your bestie’s gonna do it for you.” She eyed Feyre’s newly acquired hoodie with a slight smirk. “Among a few others.”

“What? I was cold. And what do you mean, others?”

Mor just waved a hand in dismissal. “Rhys, Cass, and Az are around here all the time. Rhys lives a floor above me, for that matter. You know they’re all thrilled you’re back in town. Emerie is excited to meet you too. I think you guys will really hit it off.” Mor sighed, a wistful look in her eyes.

“You really like this one, don’t you?”

“She’s amazing. And she’s been so patient with me. You know how my family can be about my preferences. She hasn’t said much, but I think her family gives her a lot of the same shit about it. She gets it. Gets me.” Feyre’s heart just about melted at that and she reached across the couch to squeeze Mor’s hand. “I even asked—”

The front door opened then, to both their surprise, Cassian falling through the frame with a shit-eating grin on his face. “She’s back! Feyre Archeron, where have you been?! C’mere.” She squealed as he lifted her by the hips to spin her around

Mor shook her head, mumbling about how this was supposed to be girls’ night before everyone saw her at Rita’s the next evening. “Sorry, Mor,” another voice said from the door, warm, rich, and amused. “We saw you ladies pull in earlier from the window. I kept him there as long as I could. It’s good to see you, Feyre.”

Grinning ear to ear, Feyre braced a hand on Cassian’s chest until the vertigo faded. “Yeah, good to see you guys. I—What?” she asked, finally looking at Rhys.

He was just as she remembered. It had been fice years since he’d flown out to manage that east coast business after earning his business degree and he hadn’t changed one bit—still the most beautiful man she’d ever met. The only thing that truly caught her off guard was the odd glint in his eyes, focusing on the hoodie she was wearing—almost pleased, if she was reading him right. Another step into the room and his scent hit her, citrus and the sea, the same soothing fragrance that clung to the sweatshirt she’d thoughtlessly pulled on with the assumption it was one of Mor’s baggier favorites.

Fuck.

Rhys smirked then, every bit the smug alpha she knew he was. She wasn’t ready to analyze the response that inspired in her. The fluttering in her stomach that quickened as he approached, the heat that flushed her check when he stepped into her space, fingering the ratty sleeve that fell well past her fingertips. “I was wondering where that had wandered off to.”

“I—”

“Keep it, darling. It looks better on you anyway.”

She shuffled back a step, uncharacteristically flustered by his proximity. Omega or not, the flirtation of men didn’t usually affect her this way. Even in the early days between her and Tamlin she—She would not be comparing her ex to anyone. She came back to San Francisco to wash her hands of him, after all.

“I—” She sighed. “Thanks.”

Mor cleared her throat, though her shameless grin was a near mirror to her cousin’s. “If that’s all, boys.” She batted her eyes, looping her arm back through Feyre’s. “This was girls’ night, remember?”

Cassian chuckled, ignoring the dismissal and slumping into the couch. “So, how goes the move in?”

Feyre scoffed. “My plane touched down only an hour ago. Can I finish my dinner and wine before tackling my bags?” The other three exchanged a look, Mor seeming suddenly guilty. “What?”

“With how quickly this all came together, I suppose I never got around to mentioning I… I asked Emerie to move in. It doesn’t change the fact the extra room is yours,” she hurried to say. “You have a place here of course.”

“Or you could have one upstairs,” Rhys mumbled.

Feyre blinked. “Excuse me?”

“They get their privacy, you get a good night's sleep every night.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s just a room, Feyre. You know I’m a gentleman.”

“I wouldn’t suggest otherwise.” Eyeing his reaction, she sipped from her wine glass. “Out loud.”

Cassian cackled. “God, I’ve missed you. About time you traded the hills for skyscrapers again, little sister.”

“I couldn’t agree more.��

~~~~~

“I told you,” Rhys sang as Feyre stepped out of the elevator and into his apartment. It had only taken two nights to change her mind about his proposal. She adored Mor and Emerie was a delight—a perfect match for her oldest friend. But that didn’t change the fact the walls were paper thin.

“Hush. Emerie is a wonderful woman. I could never begrudge them their happiness, even if it costs me my sleep.”

“Of course not. Anyways, welcome to my humble abode. The first door on the left down the hall is your room for as long as you want it. Just across from mine, if you need anything. I’ll let you get unpacked.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, heading down the short hall and into the room he directed her to, only to stop short in the doorway. “Rhys.”

“Yes?” he called back, presumably from the living space.

“What is all of this?”

He approached slowly, looking almost sheepish. “Too much?” She gaped. “I can return it if you don’t like it. I just happened to overhear you tell Mor you had left behind some of your favorite nesting things and… Here, I’ll just pack it up and—”

“No.” His brows rose as she shifted to block the doorway. “I—” She cleared her throat softly. “It was sweet of you to consider it. I’m not far from my next heat, actually. I really appreciate you letting me crash here and letting me nest.”

He scoffed. “Nesting is natural. It isn’t something I’d try to stop any omega from doing.”

“If only my ex had seen it that way.” She flinched. “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

He growled softly, eyes dark as he dropped his head to hold her gaze, one hand braced against the doorjamb she already leaned against. His scent washed over her once again and Feyre hoped her full body shutter wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Your ex was an alpha?” She nodded. “Not one with any honor, it seems. You are what you are, Feyre. If that bastard ever made you take shame in it, I hope you’ll soon change your way of thinking.”

“I’m not ashamed of anything,” she murmured.

The knuckles of his free hand brushed along her cheekbone. “Good. I’ll let you finish up here. As I said, if you need anything for the nest or otherwise, I’m here to help.”

“I’m not a charity case, Rhysand. I always manage to get back on my feet quickly enough.”

“I know that, darling. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy spoiling sweet little things like you rotten.”

A quiet, shocked sound escaped her, but her usually sharp wit had been neutralized, it seemed. And all by a few charming words. Sweet little things like you.

“No,” she muttered to herself, refusing to watch him walk away. Approaching heat or not, she was not getting tangled up with an entitled alpha ever again. And that vow would not be changing

~~~~~

The next few weeks were normal, all things considered. Rhys went to work in the morning and Feyre either arranged calls or set out to reopen contact with previous buyers interested in her art. In the evenings they alternated cooking meals and washing dishes, occasionally enjoying a movie or game together before returning to their separate rooms for the night.

Everything was perfectly platonic if you excused a few mildly flirtatious remarks. The only thing that left her unsteady was the surprise treats and little actions to take care of her, each one either frivolous or thoughtful. It was as frustrating as it was pleasing and she hoped Rhys couldn’t see how she truly felt about each little favor. She didn’t know what she’d do if he came to learn about the pure satisfaction she felt each time she saw that he had snuck into her room to switch out the sweatshirt she’d so carefully placed among the pillows and blankets in her nest the moment his scent faded from the fabric.

She had dared to ask him after the third time he’d replaced the garment why he was so attentive to that specific want.

“You may not be my chosen mate, but you are an omega under my care. Just as you follow your instincts to keep something with an alpha’s scent, I will follow my instinct to provide for you as long as you live with me. A missing sweatshirt is hardly a great sacrifice, Feyre.”

He’d stood from the dinner table with a smile, mumbling something along the lines of, “Such a pretty little blush you have, darling,” before loading his plate in the dishwasher and heading for his room. Any other remarks had been few and far between, but each one stuck with her for days afterwards.

She gave a sharp huff as she stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea, prepared to do nothing more than hole up in her room with a good book and a hot drink as the Saturday storm bathed the city. “Read my book and not think about this a second longer.”

If only she’d realized what a hopeless endeavor that would turn out to be.

She was only two chapters into her newest read when the first hot flash came. Her heat. And damn if she couldn’t already feel this was going to be a rough one without a partner. Jumping from her chair, she started to head for the bathroom, reaching for the tub’s faucet. Then, a cool bath wouldn’t do her any favors. As quickly as she felt her skin burn, she knew she’d be shivering in a matter of minutes, that first cycle of hot and cold lasting for a few hours before the endless heat became constant, especially without an alpha to soften the effects of her episode.

“Fuck.” She needed to get off the floor and back to her room. To her nest, whatever small comfort it could offer her. “Fuck,” she repeated.

“Eloquently put,” a too-familiar voice said. She didn’t bother peeling her eyes open, letting Rhys drop to a knee and slip his arms beneath her knees and behind her back. “Come on. To bed with you.”

“Put me down. I’m fine.” Never mind that her teeth were already chattering and a cramping had started low in her gut.

“I’m sure you are, darling.” Shifting his arm so her back remained supported, he pressed his palm to the back of her head, pressing lightly until she caved, letting him guide her nose to that special spot on his neck where his scent was strongest. The tension that had claimed her body vanished in an instant. “There, little one. Better, hm?”

She mumbled something equally proud and bitter that she could really only half understand herself with this fog stealing over her mind so quickly, then, “Hurts,” she whimpered.

He hummed, laying her down in the very center of the nest of bedding and clothes she’d so meticulously arranged and rearranged over the past few weeks. She should have realized she was days from her next cycle when the impulse to perfect the space became so prominent. Now she would be glued to it for days on end. The problem? “Why are you so far away?”

Rhys chuckled. “You said you wanted to work through your heat alone, little one. That you don’t need an alpha. Have you changed your mind?” Feyre bit her lip, contemplating her options. Endure this alone and maintain her pride, or welcome his help and pray she was only opening a physical connection, rather than an emotional one. “Feyre.” She blinked up at him. “Temper your pride. Invite me into your nest, little one. This doesn’t have to be so painful.” It only took a moment for her to grip his hand, tugging softly. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, settling in carefully, so as to not disturb her arrangement.

“Don’t need a knot,” Feyre told him petulantly. “Just…” Nose buried in his neck, hand tucked under his shirt, Feyre stopped protesting for the moment, the only sound leaving her a soft whimpering.

That’s when he began to purr, summoning a gush of slick, to her humiliation. “Rhys—”

“Hush, sweet girl. Let’s see what we can do about your little problem here.” She couldn’t help but squirm a bit as he peeled her leggings away inch by inch, face flushing hot when her slick clung to the fabric of her panties on their way down. “Settle now, pet. You just lay back and let your alpha take care of you.”

“You’re not my—I didn’t ask you to—” Feyre hadn’t realized her pants had been completely cast aside until his tongue was stroking up her slit. “Oh, god.” Another drag of it and her fingers were threaded in his hair, tugging sharply. He hummed. “Rhys.” She tried to lift her hips, only for Rhys to reach up and lay his arm over her waist, keeping her mostly still. She let out a groan of frustration.

“All in good time, little one. All in good time.” He looked all too pleased by the frustrated growl that passed her lips, her protest cut off the moment two thick fingers pushed inside of her, curling in a way that had her hurtling to the edge of her release. “That’s it, darling, he encouraged her, repeating the motion while twisting his hand enough that he could rub her clit with his thumb. “Come for me.” Considering the state she was already in and how it only seemed to worsen with time, it took nothing more than those few words for her to shatter, clenching around his fingers so tight he cursed—even as he stroked her through it. “Good girl.”

Feyre shuttered beneath him, She didn’t need to peel her heavy eyes open to know she would find him smirking down at her. There wasn’t a chance in hell a man as observant as Rhys would misread what his praise did to her. She felt the tip of his nose skate across her cheek before his soft mouth was pressed to the flesh of her throat, his fingers already beginning to curl inside of her once again. “Rhys, wait.”

“Darling, do you really think that little knotting toy you bought the other day is going to be enough to satisfy you in this? You know what you need and you know who can give it to you.”

That unbearable cramping began anew, and Feyre knew she had no hope of resisting.

~~~~~

Most days, Rhys would consider himself an honorable man. He was capable of detaching emotions from matters of business and handling what needed to be handled without causing a fuss. Taking losses he earned himself with grace. Regarding his personal life, he never stooped to pursue someone who’s capability of consent was so precarious. He’d certainly never attempted to coerce a hesitant partner.

But he’d walked into the house and her heat scent had hit him in full force. Finding her slumped on the bathroom floor and burning up had his protective instincts rearing their head. Now he was in her nest, had his fingers buried inside of her, the taste of her lingering on his tongue, addling his own mind.

He could reconsider the standing of his honor tomorrow.

He’d get rid of that last edge of nerves his little omega was facing, then he’d show her where she belonged. Right here in this apartment, in this nest, for him to come home every day and spoil senseless. He had already come to enjoy their evening bonding immensely, and could only imagine he’d be even more delighted to share those talks when Feyre had her studio up and running, resuming the work she cherished so dearly. And whatever her reservations about alphas may be at the moment, she’d come around to the thought as well, he was certain. Every omega needs an alpha to lean on.

“God,” she hissed, palm pressing low on her stomach. Eyes shut tight once again, Feyre let her nails bite into his wrist, spurring him into action. He stripped the shirt she wore, baring her entirely before bringing that hand back to her center, this time with the intention of preparing her to take his knot. At the rate her heat was progressing, her pride would fall away momentarily and she’d be begging for the relief she knew it would provide her, he was certain.

Her next groan morphed to something softer, her head falling back to the pillows when his mouth closed over her nipple. Once again, her fingers found a home in his hair, tugging just harshly enough he felt justified in nipping her breast. “Be nice, darling.”

Scowling, Feyre surged upwards, gripping his shirt front as her lips finally found his. “You know it’s really, really unfair that I’m the only one undressed here.” She didn’t give him the courtesy of unbuttoning the garment himself, yanking hard enough to send the buttons flying, lost to the fabrics of the nest. Her teeth sank into his bottom lip hard enough he groaned, his free hand sliding up around her throat. “Rhys.”

He couldn’t help but smile as her eyes fluttered shut, her body relaxed enough for him to manipulate, guiding her back down into the pillow and removing his hand from its home between her thighs. “Sweet thing,” he cooed when a little pout began to form. “So needy for your alpha.” Moving his hand from her throat to her waist, he pushed those two slick fingers past her swollen lips, swallowing the growl building in his throat at the stroke of her tongue, letting himself watch as she fell deeper into that haze of lust and need.

“Well done, sweet girl,” he praised, withdrawing his fingers.

“Alpha,” she whispered, one hand sliding down until it rested over the hard line showing through his jeans.

“You need your alpha’s cock, pet?” He began working his thumb over her clit, just letting his fingers graze the rest of her. “You think you’re ready for that? Think you can take my knot, Feyre?”

“Please.” The next down stroke was rougher and he knew she was close to coming again when her body bowed towards him. “Please give it to me. Need your knot.”

There it was. And how sweet it sounded.

Kissing her neck, he let himself enjoy that lilac and pear scent for a moment before peeling out of the last of his clothes. Feyre had a hand around him before he could reach down to stroke himself, painfully hard beneath her touch. The moment she grazed his knot he jolted, one hand closing over hers while the other fisted one of the pillows beneath them. “Fuck, Feyre.”

“I want to taste you.” He clenched his jaw tight. This woman would be the death of him.

“Soon, darling. But first I need to be inside of you.” She lifted her hips, bending them at the knees in invitation. “Soaked for me,” he purred, lining up to claim her. “You’re going to take me so well, Feyre. Every inch.”

She swallowed, but nodded. Pinning her hips to keep her from rushing to take him, he pushed the tip in, grunting softly as she clenched around him. At this rate he wasn’t going to last long. “More,” Feyre begged, heels digging into his back. “Need more.”

“Patience is a virtue, pet.” Still, he fed her another inch, rocking in and out, working into her until only his knot remained. Smirking at the blissed out look covering her face, Rhys leaned down to whisper in her ear. “So fucking beautiful, filled up like this. Open those eyes for me, Feyre.” She trembled, eyes remaining closed. A sharp flick to her clit and she cried out, eyes flying open and snapping to his. “Watch, Feyre. Watch me give you my knot.” Her eyes darted down. Her nails bit into his back the moment he bottomed out. “Hot little cunt, taking me so well.”

Rhys didn’t let her catch her breath before he started rolling his hips again, dragging in and out of her, animalistic pride beginning to build when he felt her thighs trembling around him and the hot little puffs of air against the shell of his ear, when each thrust was made easier by another gush of slick soaking his length. “So close,” she whined, writhing beneath him, his name falling from her lips in a constant chant.

His rhythm faltered, feeling his release within reach as well. “Come for me, Feyre.” She keened, needing that push over the edge. Flicking her clit, he slammed home, spilling into her the moment her teeth latched down on his shoulder, nails cutting into his back. A moment later she shuttered beneath him, her grip going lax. He couldn’t help but push her damp hair back from her sweaty face, kissing her brow. Not wanting to crush her, he turned on his back, repositioning her legs on either side of him.

“That was…” She sighed, eyes drooping. “Thank you.”

“Rest, Feyre. Before the next wave hits. I’ve got you."

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

#acotar #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #omegaverse #omegaverse!feysand #feysand fic #fanfiction #pure self indulgence #i hope you enjoy it too #omega nesting

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twola · 1 year

Note

#72 “Did you just… wait, you love me?” like in a scenario where his crush confesses him

“You goddamn imbecile.”

Arthur sucks in a breath as you press the alcohol-soaked rag to the graze wound on his head. He winces against the pressure as you dab at the angry, broken skin.

“What in god’s name we’re you thinkin’, you moron…” You grumble under your breath, stopping down in front of him to clean his wound under the soft lantern light in his tent. His blue work shirt is stained red from his blood.

“Now come on, that ain’t fair.” Arthur snaps back, eyebrows furrowing as you dab at the wound near his temple.

“You’re an idiot-”

“Don’t lecture me on how to do my job-” He growls back, getting just as agitated as you seem to be.

“No, you just run off without any thought about your own safety, you’re gonna get your goddamn head blown off - ”

“I do what I need to do, woman -”

“Christ, would you just shut up!”

Arthur clams up immediately as you throw the bloodied rag to the ground in a fit of frustrated rage.

“I can’t keep watchin’ you come back hurt like this… you-” You fail to stifle a sob, angry tears flowing down your cheeks, “You’re gonna get brought back to me dead ‘nd I’ll never” -hic- “-have told you I love you, you goddamn fool of a man!” Your foot stomps on the flattened grass within the tent.

His jaw hangs open as your eyes water over and you turn away, cheeks ablaze.

“Did you just… wait, you love me?”

“Yes, you foo-”

For being wounded, you’re surprised at his speed as he grabs you, whips you around, and presses your lips to his in a desperate kiss. His arms wind around your frame, near crushing you to his chest as he presses his tongue into your mouth. You finally find your bearings and dig your hands into his shirt on his back, afraid that if you let him go he will disappear into the night.

He groans into your mouth as he pulls you back to his cot, sitting down and pulling you to straddle his lap. Suddenly kissing him is more important than breathing - and you whine in return as his hand find your hips and pull them down to press upon his hardness, having roared to life beneath you.

He breaks this kiss to say something but you surge forward again to catch his lips, rolling your clothed cunt against his cock, making him groan again.

Arthur starts yanking at your skirts, pulling them upward to paw at your rear, and you begin to pant as you work his suspenders down his arms. It’s like you have tunnel vision - the rest of the world melts around you and the only reason you have to exist is to be filled by him.

With the strength you are completely unsurprised by, he whirls you down to lay in the cot, your skirts falling past your hips to lay limply around your waist as he looms above you. With one knee balanced on the edge of the cot, he quickly undoes the buttons of his pants and fishes his cock out, hard and weeping already for you.

You’re trying to shimmy your bloomers over the swell of your rear when his big, warm hands join yours, peeling the fabric down your thighs with one of them, the other immediately cupping your cunt.

You gasp, and he immediately leans down to kiss you again. Your knees fall open as he settles above you, and he removes his hand from between your thighs and presses the head of his cock against your opening.

He draws away slowly, his eyes those damned pools of blue you can’t help but drown in - his pupils blown, his breathing heavy.

“Say it again.”

You wind your arms around his neck and the head of his cock slips though the rim of your cunt. With a breathy gasp, you answer him.

“I love you.”

He presses inside. Slowly, gently, one of his hands winding gently into your hair as he holds himself above you in the cot.

When finally his hips touch yours, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and when they open again, he moves to press his forehead against yours.

“I love you too.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan smut #twolafic #arthur morgan x female reader #prompt request #miniprompt

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goldessia · 7 months

Text

⋆⋆⋆ ┊ heavens blessing, levi ackerman . . .

warnings: rivals to lovers, bickering/arguments, sad love confession, close-death experience, levi is kind of mean in the beginning

type: flangst ( my fav <3 )

a/n: i made this at like, 3am, so please excuse how horrible it is :’)

MY life was one thing—a fight to the top. a fight to power.

levi ackerman ranked just above me in our cadet training. that second place title killed me.

i used to hate when people compared us. when they said, “she’s only second to levi.” if anything, i loathed it. i should be on top, i should be the captain—but of course, when the time came around, he had two more titan kills than me. now, we are tied.

levi never failed to make it known that he was ranked higher. if anything, he found it amusing that it was he who qualified and not me. and boy, did he abuse his power.

now, levi was walking past us, handing out shift assignments.

“eren, border control.” he moves on, “armin, go meet hanji for the security meeting.” and finally, he stops at me. instead of reading off his clipboard like he did for the others, he places it behind him, and stares straight at me.

“last and very least..” he slants his head, “y/n. stable duty.”

anger envelopes me. “what? you can’t do that! i’m the best soldier here, i’d be much more use out there!”

he clicks his tongue. “ooh, that’s where you’re wrong.” he leans closer, “you’re second-best. remember?”

i grumble. “just because you ranked above me—by, might i remind you, two kills—doesn’t mean you can just push me around. i’m still the best solider here, ranking or not.

“and i have a feeling you’re just putting me on stable duty so i don’t have a chance to pass you in kills.” i spit.

he takes a deep breath, and leans toward me. his eyes are almost frightening—cold, icey and direct. i want to shrink under his stare, his posture, his very aura.

“you’re right.” he says, “i do rank above you. and you know what that means?” his eyes narrow. “that means i can do whatever the fuck i want with you.”

i open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance.

“do you want another week of stable duty? because i can do that. talk back to me again, and you’ll face the consequences.”

my jaw clenches in anger. my eyes glare into his, but both him and i can tell i’m losing this battle.

“you got it?” he says. when i don’t respond, he repeats himself. “do you understand, soldier?”

i murmur a “yes, captain.”

“louder.”

“yes,” i inhale, before spitting out the word—“captain.”

“say it nicer.”

something inside me snaps, “no. you know what?” i push him back, “i’m done. give me stable duty, at-least it will keep me away from you, and your sadistic, weirdo self.”

with that, i storm away. a little childish, i agree, but i knew if i stayed any longer i’d argue with levi until the sun set. at-least i get a break, today.

behind me, i hear a few of the new soldiers defending me. they say things like, “don’t you think that was a bit far, levi?” or, “i kind of agree, her skills would be useful out there..” but they were instantly shut down by levi.

— - mid-night . . approx. six hours later.

i felt disgusting. after hours of working in the stables, a long, hot shower was just the thing i needed. i wrung the water out of my hair, and since it was around eleven pm i knew everyone would be asleep. so, i threw on my pyjama’s, and stepped out of the shower corridors.

i wanted to murder levi, consequences be damned. he never failed to make an absolute fool out of me. one day, i swore i’d get him back.

as i turned the corner, my heart stopper in my chest when i saw a figure in-front of me, but it was too late—i had already collided with them.

“huh—! watch it—“ levi cuts himself off when he realises it’s me. “oh. what are you doing here?”

“uh, crazy concept, but i also live here.” i spit. his eyes narrow, before travelling over me, head to toe and back to my face.

“lights out was an hour ago. you shouldn’t be out here.”

“that’s why i was trying to get back to my room, before you rudely got in my way.” i say. he blinks. “so.. move.”

the corner of his lip snags up. “say please.”

i scoff. “you’re such a prick,” i spit, pushing past him. before i can keep walking, he roughly grabs my arm, stopping me.

“remember who’s in control here, y/n.” he says coldly, “or, did you forget all of your training?” he tuts, “you have to be dismissed before you can walk away from your superiors.”

“eat shit, ackerman.”

“that’s captain levi to you.”

i rip my arm from his grasp. “you’re too cocky for your own good.” i turn to face him, “from now on, ranking or not, you need to learn to respect me. i can just as easily surpass you.

“you’ll need to get used to calling me captain l/n. just a matter of time, if you keep up with abusing your power just to mess with me.”

“tough chance.” he says with a slight chuckle, “goodnight, y/n.”

“off yourself.”

with that, i spin on my heel and stalk away from him.

— - the next day . . dawn

i was ready for another day of stable duty. if anything, i was kind of happy to spend another peaceful day with the horses. i was prepared for it.

“yeah, about that.” levi says. this time, he isn’t looking at me, but at the ground. “erwin..” he grits, “insisted you come on the mission today. said that.. your skills would be useful.”

my brows raise. a small smile finds my lips. “what was that? sorry, i couldn’t hear you. something about.. how i’m skilled?”

“i’m not repeating myself.” he snarls, “get your gear, and meet us by the gate. don’t be late.”

he stalls away like an angry child who didn’t get his favourite toy. i chuckle, and walk toward the supply room.

i meet the rest of them by the gate. the line consisted of a few of the rookies—eren, reiner, connie, and jean, and beside them, hanji, erwin and levi, who’s holding the reins to a horse beside him which i suspect is mine.

with a tall chest, i walk toward levi. “i believe that’s mine.”

he spares me one look, before making a tch sound with his lips, throwing the reins toward me.

hanji briefs us a look, before whispering in a not-so-subtle voice, “are you sure it’s a good idea to pair them together? i don’t think the rookies need to hear their bickering all day.”

levi’s head snaps toward them, “we don’t bicker.”

“yeah. he’s just a pain in my ass most the time, that’s all.” i say with a smirk.

he looks to me. “if anything, you’re the thorn in my side. always needing saving, always complaining-“

“uh—! name one time i’ve ever needed your saving. and i don’t complain!”

“uh, let’s see, two days ago?” he deadpans.

“that was not saving—“

“yeah. you definitely don’t bicker.” jean chuckles.

“shut up, rookie!” levi and i say simultaneously. we look to each-other, opening our mouths to speak before erwin cuts us both off.

“today, you two. are you forgetting we have responsibilities? your flirting can wait till later.” erwin says, pulling the reins so his horse turns.

my face heats up. “we’re not flirting!” we say together again.

“stop saying what i say.” levi narrows his eyes.

“you’re saying what i’m saying!”

“you were given an order.” erwin’s voice hardens. erwin wasn’t usually too hard on us, but his patience can only stretch so far before it snaps.

i look down, and mutter a, “sorry, sir.”

he nods, just once. “good. now, we have a mission to get to.”

“yes sir!”

— - approx. one hour later . .

titans were all around us, at every angle. a huge herd just appeared out of no-where while we were travelling to the next way-point, and thank god we happened to be passing through a city.

levi and i were together, like usual, and we had all split up into groups of two. and like usual.. we made it into a competition.

“i bet you two training days i’ll kill more than you.”

“hah—! you got yourself a deal.” levi says, before turning and zipping away from me.

ahead of me were two ten-meter titans—easy money. i press the blade, zipping toward them, manoeuvring away from their hands and slicing my blade across his nape. it falls to the ground with a loud thud, and i lock my line to the second ones nape.

THUD.

. . . five titans later, i had gotten a bit carried away. i didn’t realize i was using so much gas, and that my blades were on their last pair.

shit, shit, shit! is all i can think as i race faster away from the five-meter titan right on my tail. i was dead, so dead. i had run out of gas, and i realised before i could think i had reached a dead-end. my leg is slashed from when i fell, and my run is looking more like a desperate limp.

the titan was closing in on me. i turned, scanning the area for something i could do, but that was it. i was cornered. there was no running.

the titan crouches in-front of me, and for the first time in my life i was truly, rawly scared. the titans never scared me when i was a kid, or a cadet, but now..

the titan’s mouth was curled into a horrifying smile. it’s eyes were bulging, hands and chin covered in blood from a previous city’s massacre.

this was it. as i was lifted off the ground, i accepted my fate. my eyes moved toward the sun. i didn’t want the last thing i’d look at to be it’s face.

huh. i never noticed how warm the sun was. i guess i should’ve appreciated nature a bit more. i would have, if i knew this was the day i was going to die.

it’s mouth opened. i could smell it’s foul breath, smelling of human flesh.

i guess you win, levi. just this once.

SHING!

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!”

SLASH.

i fell to the ground. my back slammed against the pavement, and i cried out in pain. my head was fuzzy, mostly from the fall.

i hear the wind in my ear as i am picked up, and the sound of metal whipping as i’m brought to the roof.

my vision focuses when i am placed down on a roof. oh. it’s levi. he is speaking, but i can’t really hear him that well.

“damnit, damnit!”

his hands are on my face. his eyes are scanning me for injuries. why is he doing that? why does he care..

“fuck, please be okay, REINER, OVER HERE!”

“SAY SOMETHING!”

oh. now i can hear him.

i wince, my eyes fluttering as they focused on levi’s face. no, that can’t be levi.. why is he crying? levi wouldn’t cry.

“what happened?” i register it to be reiner’s voice, and i turn to him. i push myself up, crying out from the pain in my back, my head. i touch my hand to the back of my head, looking at the blood on my fingers.

“it’s alright, it’s nothing, i’m fine—!”

two arms are wrapped around me. clutching me tight. daring to never let go.

levi.. is hugging me.

“god damnit.. you idiot! what were you thinking?!”

“you’re.. hugging me.” i mean to say in my head, but i say out-loud by accident.

he pulls away, grasping my face in his hands. his hands are shaking. “don’t you ever do that again. you hear me?! i’ll give you damn stable duties everyday if you don’t smarten up!”

“i- you— i can’t promise i won’t—“

“nearly killing yourself over a stupid bet, really?! i can’t believe you—“

“levi.”

“out of all the stupid, idiotic, irrational things you’ve done—“

“levi—“

“seriously! if i didn’t get here when i did, you’d have been dead, and over what? an unsettled—“

“LEVI!”

“what?!”

i pant, placing a hand on his shoulder. “stop. fucking. talking.”

he stares at me for a second. then, a smile cracks on his lips. then a laugh. “i love you so fucking much.”

copr. goldessia. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, share on other platforms without credit/permission.

#attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi aot #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #aot one shot #aot image #fluff

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the-fiction-witch · 7 months

Text

My Siren

Media The Maze Runner

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader (Mermaid)

Rating Smut!

I stood humming a little tune to myself as I worked with my little metal hoe clearing weeds from the poor young plants trying to grow towards the sky. I looked up briefly and smiled as I saw him across the way, Newt stood pushing back the plants in his orange vest, his white hoodie around his waist and his tattered brown trousers. He saw me and smiled blowing me a sweet little kiss which made me blush and blow him a kiss back.

"Adorable." Zart laughed as he was working on a bed of carrots between us,

I giggled and got on with my work until my body ran cold, as I heard a crack from the sky and the grey clouds looming to cover the sun.

I shoved my hoe into the earth and ran past kissing Newt's cheek before I bolted into the deadheads to hide myself away. Only moments later the rain began to fall so I kept back from the edge making sure not a drop hit my pale skin. The boys worked through the mild rain as they only ever stopped for more torrential downpours, and as I loomed I heard voices talking.

"Y/n, has a thing about rain doesn't she?" Zart spoke up,

"She doesn't like it." Newt laughed,

"Why?"

"She just doesn't?"

"No boy gets break times every time it rains?"

"Well she's special, second in command says so."

"Cause she's your girlfriend?"

"...yes,"

"Do I get more breaks if I sleep with you?"

"...Are you gonna?"

"...I-... I'd think about it."

"No Zart."

"Damn it."

"Try Alby,"

"Good point, but still why does being a girl give you extra breaks?"

"Girls are weird." Newt laughed, "You'd know if you ever get a girlfriend,"

I couldn't help but laugh and move deeper to keep away from the rain.

I walked out of the homestead and headed through the dark glade lantern in hand, I walked into the dead house and made my way out to the pond in the woods the deep pound covered by thick woods. I set my lantern down beside the water, I stripped off my shorts and hoodie unclasped my bra and kicked off my panties before I jumped into the water. I swam through the water and felt my tail return my fins grow out, my sweet pearlized Y/E/C tail matching my eyes. I smiled finally my body relaxing being at peace at last as I swam about the pond.

I smiled so widely as I sat on the grass my head on Newt's shoulder as we cuddled up. His arm was around my waist watching the bonfire die down as everyone else headed to bed. His hand moved to my Y/H/C hair stroking softly, "You alright Y/n?"

"Mhm," I nodded nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck,

"You are such a cutie," he cooed as he stared into my eyes and stroked my cheek, "My sweet siren."

"Siren?"

"Ummm Y/E/C yes, a face that I can't turn away from, a voice that would make me walk off a ship to into certain death... Humm I'd let you drag me into the depths my darling Y/n, to whatever end."

"When did you get so poetic Newt?"

"Whenever I get to look at you,"

"You are far too sweet to me," I giggled giving his lips a soft sweet kiss, he happily kissed back and tugged me closer and closer until he pushed me down to lie on the grass, with him above me.

"May I my siren?"

"You May newt,"

He smirked and kissed me hard and passionately our tongues battling as his hands slipped down to my hoodie's hem and tugged it up slowly, I smirked and tugged his neck to pull him down tighter. He lifted my hoodie over my head tossing it off to the grass, He smirked down at me holding my neck softly as he returned to my lips. I kissed him back tugging on his blonde locks before tugging at his hoodie which he pulled back and happily removed tossing it with my own but leaving his vest. He kissed down my neck, between my breasts, down my stomach, and undid my shorts curling his fingers inside them and tugging them down my hips as he kissed lower and lower each inch that was being revealed to him. I did my best not to whine given we were in the middle of the glade even if the boys were in bed, He tossed my shorts into the pile and loomed over me biting his lip hard. "You always look so beautiful in the fire light my siren," He cooed, "Please Y/n?"

"Of course Newt."

He smirked and kissed me again as he unlaced his trousers and stroked his hard erection,

"Hummm... I swear it's bigger every time I see it,"

"Maybe? It's cause I've missed you," He smirked, "Umm... Please..."

"Yes, newt?" I wickedly smiled,

"You know what I want," He smirked, "Touch me my siren," he pleaded as he kissed my neck, I smiled and pulled him back to my lips as I replaced his hand stroking up and down his hard erection feeling him throb in my hand and moan into my mouth, his hips moved with my hands almost thrusting into my grip as he pulled back moaning against my lips as sweat rolls down his forehead from the fire and our passion. He pushed my hand away and bit his lip hard,

"No?"

"No." He gasped, "Believe me my siren... I'm hard enough," He growled his hand quickly pushing my panties to the side and rubbing my clit without mercy and slipping his fingers inside me I grabbed him and kissed him hard to keep myself quiet already feeling overwhelmed with such pleasure until I forced his hands away. "...Do you want me?" he gasped his forehead on my own,

"Yes," I gasped,

He smirked and gently pulled himself inside me, and kissing him deeply as he began to gently thrust, I pulled out grass and our bodies moved fast and hard until I began to get close tightening my legs around his waist, tightening him around me until I bit his neck and rocketed into my orgasm. "Uhhhhhh! Y/n!" He moaned loudly as he quickly moved, and I felt it. He pulled out and spilt himself all over my thigh. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry-"

"Ah!-" I complained pushing him away, I grabbed my clothes and bolted to the deadheads to hide myself trying to clean it off and dry myself praying it was not enough to trigger my tail. "No... no no no no...."

"Y/n... I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I didn't mean to," Newt said as he came to the deadheads to console me,"

"Don't come closer!" I demanded,

"Okay... okay... I'm sorry. I am so so sorry Y/n... I didn't think it would... be so fast. I know it upsets you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay... It's okay..." I nodded as my thigh was dry and for sure my tail not triggered so I got dressed and came back from the thick trees to see him with a worried look, "It's alright newt I know you didn't mean to,"

"Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I do," I smiled giving him a small kiss which brought a smile,

"I am really sorry, my little siren just... made me feel too good,"

"You can't use that excuse forever,"

"I can try," he smiled picking me up to carry me back to the fire for more of our cuddles.

I hid my tail and made sure to keep everything below the water as I looked and froze up seeing Newt heading over with his own lantern.

"Awww there you are," he smiled, "I thought the bed felt colder."

"Ohh Hi, Newt." I smiled,

"Hi Y/n," He cooed, "you cosy in your little swimming pond?"

"I am," I nodded,

"Look at you, you going to sing me a long and drag me down into the waters?"

"would you want me too?"

"I told you many times Y/n, I would let my little siren drag me into the depths," he smirked as he began to strip his clothes off, "So... May I My Siren?"

"Ma- Newt... I-" I began,

He smirked kicking off his trousers and jumping into the pond with me,

"Newt!" I yelled quickly swimming away,

"Ohh? Come on... Where's my little cuddle? Where's my kiss my little Siren? come on, cuddle me, kiss me, drag me down into the water and make me your slave my beautiful little sire-" He cooed as he swam around after me trying to get kisses, cuddles and attention until his hand met my tail "Ah!... What was that..."

"Newt... it's okay,"

"Y/n! there is something in the pond! get out!"

"Newt... please..."

"Y/n,"

I sighed, "I- I I'm sorry newt."

"What is it?"

"Please... don't panic. I uhh I have waited long enough." I sighed perching myself up onto the side of the pond and letting him see my fins and my tail, his eyes met my tail and immediately his eyes went wide. "Please don't panic."

".......AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"NEWT!" I yelled putting my hand over his mouth until he stopped screaming, "Are you okay?"

"I... I.... this answers so so many questions..."

"Yeah... I imagine it does,"

"This is why you hate rain!"

"yeah..."

"This is why you never let me shower with you!"

"Yeah..."

"Oh my god- THIS is why I have to pull out and jizz in the grass!" He yelled, "Becuase if I cum on you I'll turn you into a bloody mermaid!"

"Yeah..."

"you- you- you... really are my little siren," he laughed, "Come on, come back in the water and have a swim I won't be a dick."

"Thank you newt," I smiled moving back into the pond and giving him a little kiss,

"Ummm, still my Y/n. You're just a little... fishy."

"No. I refuse to accept that joke,"

"Too late I said it," he laughed giving me more kisses, "I... I have a question for you,"

"I assume you have a lot,"

"I do... but the one on my mind now,"

"Go on?"

"...I... I've had sex with you."

"Yes, you have," I laughed,

"many times,"

"Ample yes newt,"

"I have... been inside you,"

"Yes?"

"I... I don't wanna sound crude Y/n. But..." He began, "... Where has your pussy gone?"

"Newt!" I laughed,

"What! you have a tail! I can't help being curious."

"You are a very stupid boy sometimes," I laughed giving him more kisses.

I held Newt tightly as they walked us through the facility they took us to the showers but Newt shared a look of utter panic,

"Don't worry, you girls have your own," Janson spoke up,

"I... can't newt come with me?"

"Afraid not."

"it'll be okay." Newt nodded and kissed my head, "I'll see you soon little siren," he cooed,

"see you soon," I nodded giving him a soft kiss,

Before I followed Janson and Teresa. He led Teresa to a shower room and then he led me elsewhere which made me feel very nervous. Until he brought me to a large grey room with a bed and a pool by a window...

"We know."

"How do you-"

"It's in your files. Don't worry you're safe... we just need to... run some tests on you."

I sat in the tank my body shivering, they had run so many tests on me, so many experiments none of which were pleasant for me. They had been Merciless to me, they thought my ability to change from legs to tail was helpful in their search for a cure, something and mutatable cells I wasn't listening all I knew was that it involved them tieing me down and plucking my scales one by one as they kept me in water enough to keep my tail then drying me off with heat to return to legs so then could drip me back in and my tail return having repaired the scales. The door opened and I shook with fear thinking it was time again, but I was thrilled as Newt was shoved inside my room and the door shut tight.

"NEWT!"

"Y/n!" he smiled kneeling beside my tank and giving me a sweet kiss, "I've missed you so much my little siren,"

"I missed you too! are you okay? they have been running tests on you,"

"They have been, I don't even want to imagine what they have done to you."

"You don't wanna know,"

"It's okay I'm just happy you're alright," He smiled sharing sweet kisses, "It's horrible to be away from you."

"It is, I want to stay here. I promise you Y/n they are not getting me away from you. I am staying here and protecting my little siren,"

"You don't have to-"

"I do. I am not going to let them hurt you."

"thank you newt." I smiled giving him a soft kiss, "Come here," he cooed stripping off and climbing into the tank with me so we could cuddle and kiss all cosy and I could wrap my tail around his leg, "I'm keeping you safe Y/n, no matter what."

I gasped as I counted the seconds and pulled myself out of the tank doing my best to dry myself off as fast as I could to get my legs to return, starting to get dressed even if I wasn't dry yet, but the doors opened to see Newt, Thomas, minho and the others and everyone but newt panicked to see my tail.

"Yeah. yeah. I'm a mermaid, I have a tail. get over it,"

"...I have so many questions how do you two have a sexy relationship?" Minho laughed,

"We'll explain later we don't have time for this!" Newt said, "I'll carry you don't worry," he said picking me up and carrying me while I still had my tail. I held him close as Newt carried me out as we escaped the facility until my legs returned so I grabbed my clothes on and put some shoes on.

"Okay. Let's get out of here." I nodded taking Newt's hand so we could run.

I lay against the harsh sandy ground, my body cold as I shivered in the cold, Newt's arm around me keeping me warm and safe, I shifted a little and stirred sitting up and rubbing my eyes a little, but when they cleared I saw the dark stormy clouds approaching lighting sparking within them

"...oh no,"

"Humm?" Newt grumbled as I woke him up,

"problem. Big. Big Problem."

"Bergs!" he shot up but then he looked where I did, "oooohh... that is a big problem." He nodded, "Guys!" he yelled waking most others up, "we need to go. Now!"

I grabbed my bag and Newt's hand as everyone got up and grabbed their stuff all of us bolting across the flat lands, booking it as fast as our feet could carry us trying to outrun the storm that was on our heels, luckily we came to a building so everyone headed for it trying to get inside as the rumbles of thunder came from the clouds and the sound of rain hitting the ground, I screamed as I felt the drops start to fall but at the last moment before the heavens truly opened minho shoved me and Newt out the way and into the doors to be safe from the rain, but as he did a bolt of lightning came down and struck mere inches from him,

"Minho!" I screamed,

"You stay here!" newt demanded,

"No what if it happens again!"

"Lighting doesn't strike twice my little siren," He cooed kissing my head before him and Thomas bolted out to help bring a smoking Minho inside and onto the floor where we all rushed to wake him,

"Ughhh..." he complained, "what happened?"

"You... got struck by lightning..." Thomas laughed,

"ohh..." He chuckled, so we helped get him to his feet and I gave him a small hug on the arm,

"Thank you, Minho"

"Don't sweat it girly,"

I kelt in the dust with Newt beside me as the WCKD men checked us over and they returned to us. Ava and Janson, they headed over and Janson smirked at me playing with my hair,

"Hello, mergirl,"

"Don't. Touch. Her." Newt demanded, but Janson hit him across the face with his gun,

"Back the hell up man!" Minho complained,

"Get them on the berg. Starting with mergirl."

"NO! I am not going anywhere with you!" I yelled as they picked me up,

"What the hell is he talking about?" Vince spoke to us,

I didn't answer but as we looked around there was an air of distrust.

"You think you were the only one? you were just the fish who worked. All of you! were spliced with something..."

"What are you talking about!" I yelled,

"All of you were all experiments. just ones that worked." Ava explained,

"What.. what are you talking about" I asked,

"Get her-"

"I am not going with you!" I yelled,

Janson nodded and turned away but he grabbed a canteen from the right arms camp and dumped it over me making me scream, I tried to fight it but it was too late my tail returned and everyone knew. they all looked at me like I was a monster."

"What the fuck..." Mary began, "You... You... you monster... YOU MONSTER!" she screamed "You tormented Bastard! You threw out that project you knew it was unethical!"

"Desperate times. called for desperate measures... when the brian studies ran dry... we had to look elsewhere in nature." Ava defended,

"You evil bitch! THEY WHERE CHILDREN!"

"Fish." he smirked looking at me, "Owl." He smirked glancing at thomas, "Cheeta," He smirked looking to Minho, "And the Rat..." he looked to Newt.

"Who are you calling a bloody rat!" Newt yelled,

"Get the fish on the berg." He demanded, "She's useful..."

"You are not touching her! you'd have to get through me!" Newt did his best to defend me and put himself between me and Janson but his men merely kicked him to the side bloodying his head,

"NEWT!" I screamed as men merely lifted me and took me away with other prisoners,

I sat inside the tank my tail pulled to my chest trying to hide from the doctors, they had been testing, experimenting, trying to find my secrets me even if I always argued, bit, slashed, and tried to get them away from me. The door opened so I splashed my tail again and again to soak whoever was at the door.

"Enough!" Janson demanded as he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the water onto the hard floor, he hit my head with the end of his gun enough to make me bleed and he grabbed a staple from my skin that immediately upon damage tried to repair it but scaling over to repair he ripped the new scale from my head and took it as another sample, my pearlized Y/E/C scale slid into a slide to take with him. "If this works, you best get used to your life here Mergirl."

I spat in his face and he slapped me hard so I fell back into the tank,

"You try that again. I cut off your tail." He locked my door again,

so I huddled close to the edge of the tank trying not to cry, I waited for a while unsure what else to do when I heard the door open again so I splashed as much as I could and began to scream

"Whoa! Whoa! whoa! it's me!" I heard and I looked and saw Newt...

In a WCKD uniform at the door gun in hand,

"NEWT!" I jumped hugging him, he hugged me too giving me a billion kisses, "You're okay!"

"I'm okay," he nodded, "Are you okay Y/n?"

"Much better now you're here,"

"I haven't stopped looking for you my little siren, Come on. Janson is dealt with Tommy's gone after Teresa, and Brenda after Minho. Come on Y/n," He smiled giving my lips a soft kiss and he helped me out of the tank drying me off and giving me some clothes to change into as soon as my legs returned, "Let's get my little siren out of here and somewhere safe." he smiled,

"Where are we going?"

"We have a Berg waiting. And a ship after that. we're getting out of here Y/n,"

"Newt... thank you for coming back to me."

"of course, I would, I can't leave my little siren, can I? And you know I love you far too much to let you go,"

"I love you too," I kissed him before he helped me to my feet and led me out through the facility.

I smiled as I batted my tail through the crystal blue water swimming through the waves and into the river, up into the river and into the cave where I swam up and saw his sweet face,

"Awww there you are," Newt smiled as he sat in our bed as the cave had become our home in the safe haven, "I missed you, Y/n."

"I missed you too," I smiled giving him a sweet kiss and pulling him into the pool with me, he kissed back and accepted being dragged in with me,

"Ummm..." He smirked, "Must you kiss me like that?"

"Yes, I must."

"You always try and drag me down to the depths,"

"I thought you used to say you'd let me drag you into the depths?"

"I did, and I would if it means my little siren would be happy,"

"I'm always happy newt so long as I'm with you,"

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