#and thank you for making the console in black again

[jiangshiu]

۶ৎ cho hyun-ju x reader — braiding her hair

slightly edited as of 1/7

her hair is tangled, nowhere near as styled as it was upon her arrival.

your fingers gently thread through the brown mess — the texture is not as brittle as you'd expected, pleasant to the touch just enough that you want to keep your hands buried in it for just a while longer.

so, for a few more minutes, you allow yourself to slack off, to enjoy the feeling of hyun-ju's surprisingly soft locks. she doesn't utter a word as you play with and twirl her hair, not even when you accidentally tug at the ends a bit too roughly.

it's only when you pull away, about to start working on your masterpiece (or in other words, the braid) that she finally speaks up, her voice quiet, timid, “...i've never had anyone do this for me before. thank you again.”

her confession makes you pause. for a moment, your brain struggles to pick an appropriate reaction. you want to express pity, console her, ask her more, but you'd rather not open any old wounds.

instead, you settle for the simple truth; “in that case i'm honored to be the first one to do this.”

with that said, you finally get to work. you divide hyun-ju's hair into three neat sections, interlacing the strands together. you take your time, treating each piece of the braid like it might break if you as much as twist it the wrong way. every piece falls into place perfectly like a puzzle as you intertwine the dark locks, your pace intentionally slow, leisurely.

a shaky breath slips through hyun-ju's lips, her shoulders slinking back a bit as she lets herself succumb to the gentle motion of your hands. despite not being able to see her face, you're certain her eyes are closed, drowning in the sensation.

“if...” you start, nearing the split ends of her hair, “when we get out of here, i think we should try out more hairstyles. and get ourselves some cute hair accessories. oh, actually, we should go to the mall and buy some pretty clothes as well! what do you think?”

it's like you can hear her lips curl into a small, appreciative smile, “i'd like that,” she admits.

as you secure hyun-ju's locks with a hair tie, a smile blooms on your face as well, “i'm counting on it then.”

“there,” your fingertips follow the length of the braid — truthfully, it's far from perfect, a few stray strands sticking out here and there, but little do you know she won't really mind.

hyun-ju turns around to face you. her black eyes carry a hint of uncertainty, like she's unsure of herself, “thank you,” she repeats, “it means a lot.”

the reluctance in her voice is loud and clear. she doesn't want to lose this precious moment of serenity just yet. because neither of you know when you'll have the opportunity to do something like this again, or if there even is a chance to escape this death filled land.

“actually, hold on, i'm not done yet.”

for the final touch, you tuck out two strands at the front. curling each strand in between your index fingers to give them a temporary wave, you catch hyun-ju's eyes slowly trailing down your face. she seems to be absolutely entranced by you — from the way your lips are pursed in concentration, to the kindness in your gaze that nobody else here has bothered to show her.

“you're watching me like a hawk,” you tease her with a toothy smile, tugging on one of the strands lightly.

that seems to pull her out of her trance-like state. she blinks a few times and looks down at her lap in shame, nervously wringing her hands, “sorry...”

“don't apologize,” you shake your head. you fluff up her bangs a bit as you continue, “i don't mind it if it's you looking at me.”

hyun-ju clears her throat. a faint blush dusts her cheeks as her fingers brush against her new hairstyle, careful not to dishevel it, “how do i look?”

your smile brightens.

“as beautiful as ever.”

[gguk-n]

Silent Connections (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people can hear their soulmates thoughts, but only when they think. Oscar isn't sure he has a soulmate.

Oscar Piastri wasn't even sure he had a soulmate. His mum would talk about how she could hear his dad's thoughts and how they met for the first time but Oscar had yet to hear a single thought from his soulmate. He even voiced his concern once; "I don't think I have a soulmate" he told his mum when he was 5. His mother consoled him and tried to cheer him up.

Oscar was shocked, he skid his kart in the middle of the race and almost crashed out when he heard it. A giggly voice, he wasn't even sure what she said but he was sure, it was her. Maybe he didn't finish that race but he knew now that he had a soulmate. He told his dad as soon as he hopped out of the kart. But he didn't really hear her after that, not for a while. He doubted himself again, maybe he hallucinated that. But as if on cue, he heard it loud and clear; she's a meany. I hate her. It made Oscar laugh out loud; he was 9 and meany was a pretty bad thing to call anyone.

With time, Oscar would hear some parts of his soulmate's thoughts. That's how he learned what she sounded like since his mum said he would hear her thoughts in her voice. Oscar loved his soulmate's voice, he was sure he would love her too; the moment they met. He couldn't wait to meet the love of his life.

Y/N knew she had a soulmate. She knew since she could form thoughts. She could hear him, in her head. It would get chaotic and annoying at times. She couldn't think properly. She could recognise her soulmate's voice even in her sleep since that boy didn't stop thinking. The first thoughts of his that she remembers are about some cars. She wasn't sure what they meant but she did learn a lot about cars from him. She was practically a natural when it came to driving and she only had her soulmate to thank for it.

Even if her soulmate's thoughts were chaotic and annoying sometimes, there were time when she was happy to have his voice in her head, especially on shitty day's like today. She failed her test, her car broke down and she had an assignment to submit in 12 hours with a blue screened laptop. She had started bawling when his smooth voice cut through her. It's fine. I can do it. I've come this far. I'll achieve my dream. I have to keep going. Y/N was glad for his constant reassurance even if it was not for her. Thank you soulmate. I hope you get whatever you want because your thoughts comfort me everyday. Oscar heard it. His brain stopped working, this was the first time they had had a conversation of any sort.

Y/N had pursued a career in cars, she wasn't sure what she would do but she did automobile engineering since her soulmate rubbed off on her. She knew she should've done some research on the company she was joining but she forgot and right now she was standing in a room full of her new colleagues when her eyes landed on a man in a orange shirt and black shorts. He's fucking hot. She thought but Oscar heard it loud and clear. Who's hot? He thought, face visibly annoyed. He's so cute annoyed. She couldn't help but swoon over the orange shirt man. Hey! you have a soulmate you know Oscar huffed. Y/N giggled Sorry Mr Soulmate, I'm sure you're hotter she reassured. Oscar smiled. I wanna make him smile like that. Y/N thought looking at the orange shirt guy smile. Oscar was getting annoyed by the second with who ever his soulmate found attractive.

Y/N was called by her team to introduce herself to the drivers who they would be building the cars for. The first man introduced himself as Lando Norris with a smile. Y/N smiled back and then the other spoke, "I'm Oscar Piastri" making Y/N's eyes bulge out. That voice, she could recognise it anywhere and he was an athlete. How long ago would they have met had she known? My Soulmate's fucking pale. was the first thing Oscar heard making him quickly scan the room. Y/N smiled at Oscar looking for her, his soulmate. "Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N" she introduced herself. Oscar's eyes landed on her before muttering, "soulmate" a small smile playing on his lips.

The two of them were able to slip away from the team; "I can't believe this is how I meet you. If I knew you were famous, I would've stalked you years ago" Y/N rambled. "No wonder I couldn't hear your thoughts. You don't think" Oscar laughed. Y/N caught herself blushing, embarrassed. "You're cute though" Oscar stated. "If it's any consolation, the guy I thought was fucking hot was you" she bit her lips. It was Oscar's turn to blush. "As long as I'm the only man you find hot, I have no problem" he said. "Maybe, we should exchange numbers?" she suggested. "Yeah" Oscar smiled. This was the start of a forever the two of them had been waiting for, for a long long time.

[nayaesworld]

Rugged Whiskey

Warnings: Mentions of killing, smut, toxic behavior and situations

—

Terry Richmond X OC!Khia

Part 2

__

|Future Wifey: If you can find out where I’m at in the next hour this pussy is yours again daddy 😉

Terry sprung up from his couch and headed out his door, he had no time to waste and he had a lesson to teach. There was no telling where she was at the moment but Terry had a few places in mind he would look, Hide and go seek for pussy huh? She just knew he would come running, and here he was scrambling his brain like eggs neurons firing off with thought after thought of where to search first.

Her voice stuck inside his head like the call of a siren to a lonely pirate.The black ski mask and leather gloves inside his glove compartment would finally see the light of day again. Terry was flying around the city desperate to leave no stone unturned. The park,the grocery story, the bar, her favorite spa place. All places left him no closer to Khia than he was when he first left home and it was nearing nightfall. An annoyed growl left his lips as he slapped his steering wheel, he was frustrated and starting to feel anxious. His left eye began to twitch and his palms rubbed constantly on his black jeans trying to calm his bouncing leg. He already owed her one for blocking him, and now she was making it worse for herself not being easily accessible to him.

His phone vibrated in his console and he snatched it up to see a new text from her. She was taunting him.

|Future Wifey: Did you give up on me daddy? I don’t see you anywhere.

A picture attached to the text message made him lean up in his seat. A sliver of her face shown in a failed attempt at hiding her background from him. At first nothing about the tiny view of her surroundings looked familiar, until he noticed the orange neon sign in the background. Sensual, a popular lingerie store located in the mall, he now had her location and it was time for the real games to start.

By the time he had reached the parking lot of the mall the sun and moon had exchanged places in the sky, and only a bold white moon lit up the night. Ski mask rolled up on his forehead and leather gloves on he started the trek into the mall. She could be anywhere in there now. His all black attire had him gliding through thick crowds of people, like a scene straight out of Halloween he glided slowly through the mall. His eyes sliding slowly left to right surveying his surroundings carefully. He just needed one flash of her.

He rode the escalator up to the second floor of the mall and found the lingerie store, he had to check inside it first to be sure.

“Hi, welcome to Sensual. Is there anything I can assist you with today?” A chirpy voice greeted him from behind the counter and he glanced at the tall brunette.

“Good evening…I was looking for my wife. She was just here but I seemed to have lost her.” He pulled out his phone and showed the woman the photo Khia had just sent him.

“Oh yess I remember her, she bought a few items but left shortly after… she said she had an Uber to catch.” She drifted off the last few words as she glanced at the leather gloves on his hand, eyebrows scrunched with worry. Noticing her change in demeanor immediately, he knew it was time to cut the convo short.

“Ok thank you, have a good night.” He turned on his heels and headed for the escalators. He had to get back to the front of the mall asap and now he knew she didn't drive her own car there he needed to be quick on his feet. He was itching to touch and squeeze flesh..her flesh.

Reaching the entrance of the mall outside he finally saw her, and that was almost enough to make him nut just from relief alone. She stood waiting with her shopping bag faced away from him, mindlessly tugging on the necklace around her neck . The grey sweats and jacket hung off her in an oversized fashion and he couldn’t wait to tear them from her. Dark natural curls blowing slightly in the wind made her this picturesque beauty and he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to bring her home.

Gloves tight on his hands and ski mask pulled down, he approached the dark shaded area she stood in. It was perfect cover and no one would notice him dressed to the nines in full out burglar gear. Slow quiet paces made him invisible to her, and when he finally stood behind her he slid a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Anchoring her to him with nowhere to run. A gasp and a small scream exited her mouth as she thrashed around in his hold trying to get a look at the creep that had his hands on her.

“Stop all that screaming shit, save it for later. Now walk…and don’t try no funny shit. I won your little game fair and square.” When he finally let her go he saw her eyes were slightly damp and reached out to wipe them.

“Aww I scared you baby?… good don’t have me out here looking for your ass. I’m sad too but I’m not crying.”

He watched her scrunch up her face and roll her eyes. “I’m not crying, and I definitely wasn’t scared.” He didn't buy her little act, he knew a genuinely stunned face when he saw one.

“Mm yeah yeah, now walk. You know what I drive.” With a nudge he pushed her into the parking lot, taking her bag from her hands to carry it and toss in his truck.

__

The drive was silent and Khia had no idea where he was taking her. A slight downpour had covered the truck on their drive and the sounds of the windshield wipers against the glass was the only sound available. Terry was eerily quiet. She expected him to gloat and nag her but he was just silent, an unnerving silence.

“Are you gonna take off that mask?” The ski mask was still pulled over his face and she was getting hot from it.

His head glanced her way then back at the road before he answered her. “Why you scared..?”

“No, and where are we going, your apartment is in the city. We’re on the outskirts of town?” He put a finger to his lips signaling for her to shush and cut on his radio. She sat back in her seat and huffed loudly, maybe she should’ve just stayed her ass home and kept him blocked.

“You good… you got something you wanna share? Sit tight and chill out we almost there.”

“I don’t wanna chill out, I wanna know where we’re going, all this blowing up my phone and stalking me for nothing…I never should have texted you back.” She sat in the passenger seat face frowned up from pure impatience. He was annoying her and she wasn’t holding her tongue.

“Oh you just a mouthy little brat tonight ain’t you…if I tell you to close your mouth again trust me you won’t like what comes next.” A big hand laid on her thigh in warning and she finally sat back and stayed quiet.

Terry made a sharp left turn onto a rural back road. It was dark and the only thing she could see was miles and miles of field. She sat up in her seat trying to gauge where she was but nothing looked familiar and she’d never been this far out of the city, she had no reason to come way out here. He made another left turn and this street sign she caught a glimpse of. Stone Hill road? Was he being serious right now?

The eerie dark road had been the chosen spot for a link of murders. Each body made its way to Stone Hill road and was disposed of, only to be discovered months after they’d been killed and buried. The person was never caught but everyone knew to steer clear of the road. Yet Terry had just pulled to the side of the road, parked and turned off his truck.

“Terry, why are we here?”

He threw her a squinted look before answering. “Why do you think we here?”

“Haha very sarcastic, but did you pick THIS road specifically…don’t you know what happened here?”

“Yeah I know, that’s why it’s perfect. It fits the occasion…lil bit of serial killer dick never hurt nobody.” He mumbled the last part more so to himself but Khia swore she caught the tail end of it.

“What?… Terry what did you say?”

“I said a lil bit of scary dick never hurt nobody…what did you think i said?” His green eyes peered into hers in the dark cabin of his truck.

“I-I don’t know..just forget it. I think I’m just tired.” She gave him a small nervous smile and pushed a curl behind her ear.

He snatched her up by her jacket and pulled her in close, pressing his soft plump lips to her ear. “Don’t question me again, I’m in charge..you know that.”

Her chest rose and fell quickly. She was more and more turned on as the seconds flew by and her clothes began to feel completely uncomfortable on her hot skin.

He needed her in the worst ways right now. And more importantly he needed her out of those clothes and on his dick. He pulled off his ski mask and leather gloves and placed them in the armrest, long fingers reaching over and stroking her thick thigh.

“Dig in your panties and let daddy smell that pussy… mm mm don’t act shy now, do it.” He watched her breathe shakily as she slid the sweatpants past her ass and slid her hand into her pink panties, fingers moving slowly in her panties gathering her juices on her fingers. She lifted her fingers from her panties and put her index and middle finger under his nose.

He gripped her wrist and inhaled her sweet scent, nothing in his life smelled better than it. A smell so intoxicating and raw it made his most primal thoughts and feelings rise to the forefront. He wanted to own her and fill her head with his own thoughts, but she had to be somewhat willing. The tangy taste of her juices made his taste buds tingle and mouth fill up with water. Pussy definitely made the world go round and there was no denying that fact.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, let me feel you.” He patted his thighs and used the automatic button next to his seat and pushed back along with reclining it a bit for more space. She kicked her shoes and sweats off and crossed the console to sit on his lap letting him pull off her jacket and t-shirt. He came out of his black denim jacket and tossed it on the dashboard along with her clothing, his urge to feel her made him feel like he’d absorb her into his skin. He gazed into her damp brown eyes as he rotated her hips in a circle on his bulge, his pants slowly finding their place down his ankles.

Their breathing picked up and they grinded against one another at a quicker pace. Her bare chest on his clothed one as he pulled her closer into him, his hips lifting up to meet her soaked center every time, loud grunts and growls jumping from his mouth. The dry humping had them drunk on lust. Mouths sliding hungrily against each other's faces in a rush to assert dominance over the other. His low moans had her pussy clenching around nothing in her panties and she was sure she would combust from the feeling beneath her. She slowed her hips and looped her fingers around the hem of her panties and threw them aside. She needed him badly.

“Baby I need you to touch me please…look how wet I am for you. Put your fingers inside me, make me cum.” She leaned back against the steering wheel to give him a view of the mess she was making in his lap, and watched him drag a lone finger down her slit before he slowly pushed into her.

“Tj you make me crazy… I thought about you everyday I had you blocked.” He let his finger speed up slowly adding a second and pushing in until only his knuckles showed.

“That’s because I’m daddy, and I told you that. You gonna block me again mama?”

“No Noo I promise, I’ll never do it again daddy..that’s my dick.”

She threw her head back and bounced slowly on his fingers. Her pussy had his lap wet with her arousal and his wrist was working overtime between giving her good penetration and clitoral stimulation.

“What you gonna do for this dick tho baby, tell daddy what you willing to do for it.” She leaned forward into him nuzzling her lips against his ears, sucking his earlobe into her mouth.

“I’ll catch a charge behind this dick, it’s mine and nobody else’s. I’ll beat you and any bitch that doesn’t get that.” Terry let his Hand come down on her ass cheek hard, and quickly pulled his shirt from his body.

Her tongue slithered across his chest and to his neck.

“Oh yeah, you fighting about this dick?..you gonna fight daddy in the backseat and ain’t no running back there.”

__

Terry's hand wrapped around Khia’s throat as he drove his hips into hers. He had her folded up in the backseat of his truck feeding her inch after inch of hard dick. She had nowhere to run.

“Daddy it’s in my stomach…mm fuckkk please just cum already I-ahh.”

Terry pressed his hand onto her belly watching his bulge form behind her skin in and out. “That's where I’m supposed to be..right mama. Mhmh fucking this pussy, my pussy!”

“Tj my pussy…my pussy is yours, and that dick is mine.” She reached between them and held onto his dick as he sped up splashing her cream onto his seats. He’d get it detailed sometime soon to cleanse his truck of their sex.

The windows in the truck held a slight fog as the temperature inside it kept rising. Body temperatures collectively turning their fuck session into a homemade sauna. He glanced down at Khia watching her whimper, a glazed film over her eyes as her breathing slowed. He took his hand from around her neck to slap her cheek lightly.

“You better breathe.. I can’t believe this dick got you about to pass out!” She breathed in a large gust of air and reached forward to pull him into her body.

“Because you’re fucking me daddy, you fuck me so well.” The helpless look on her face mixed in with the sentiment had him exploding internally, if she said one more thing like that he wouldn’t last any longer.

“Fuck..fuck say it again. Tell daddy what he’s doing to this sweet pussy.” Praise was one of his kinks and she was playing right into it. His head dropped to her chest to suck on a plump nipple and his hips rolled slowly trying to hold back his release.

“Tj you're such a good boy…you found me and brought me back with you..you did so good. And now I feel it coming, you about to nut daddy..please cum Tj.” Her honeyed tone weakened him and had him sucking breaths in quickly to make himself sane in the moment. But her pussy was constricting him. Her tight hot walls suctioning him in further resembling a racing heartbeat. He had to fight against it and pull out hot slimy coats of white jizz covering her belly and breast.

She dozed off quickly after he sat her back in his passenger seat. Spent body curled against the door using his jacket as a blanket. Terry was fatigued but pushed back towards the city to his apartment, they needed a hot shower and food. He woke her up and grabbed her stuff from his backseat, swiping his keycard to get into his building. She trudged behind him, yawning and stretching as they made it inside his apartment. Clothes stripped off again for the second time that night. The two stepped into the spacious shower together. She slid her hands around his waist locking her fingers as she held her head against his chest. A thudding heartbeat echoing in her ear. Warm shower water pouring onto them in gentle pulses.

“You ok mama..what’s on your mind?”

“You are, I loved tonight, and I love your body. You’re like an Adonis.” He felt the feather-like touches slithering all over his back and meeting together in the front to explore his large biceps and toned abdominal muscles.

“Mm thank you my baby I try, but have you seen you, you stacked lil mama. Really ain’t ever seen anything like it… that’s why I can’t let you out my sight.” They continued exchanging compliments and exchanged kisses as they washed each other's body from head to toe.

Freshly washed and moisturized, they chatted in his kitchen. Khia sat swiveling left to right on his bar chairs, body covered in a red and white polka dot slip watching Terry’s naked back as he cooked up a mini brunch for them. He placed a few crispy edge pancakes on a plate for her along with a fried egg and breakfast sausage. She drowned everything in syrup and sipped on her cold glass of orange juice tucking into the sweet and savory late night brunch. Conversation drifted onto the two of them discussing being hit on in the workplace and Terry let his resolve slip once more.

“So what would you do if you saw me flirting with another man, it’s just a little flirting can’t be that bad right?” He watched a sneaky smirk form on her face and enlightened her with a matching one.

“I’d kill him…simple, just to make sure you get the memo that is. You want his life taken from him, then go ahead and play in my face.” She laughed loudly and waved him off, hand in front of her mouth just cracking up at him.

“Terry you can’t say stuff like that, that’s crazy.” Hadn’t she caught on yet? That’s exactly what he was.

“Of course I can, and I can mean it too.” He stuffed the last piece of egg into his mouth before moving to wash out his plate.

“You would kill for me Tj?” Her voice came out low and sultry and he whipped around to stare at her, dark brown eyes low but expressive.

“Fuck of course you would… you’d do anything I asked you, right daddy?” She continued speaking to him in that tone, breaking him down further and placing her in the driver seat of his body. She leaned onto the island titties jiggling from the low cut of her slip.

“Good boys get all the pussy in the world when they listen…are you a good boy Tj?” Terry was under her spell lock and key. He shook his head quickly, he was a good boy and he would do anything she asked.

“Yes I’m a good boy mamas…haven’t I shown you that though?” He rounded the island to stare down at her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She pulled him down to her face by his ears, gripping and rubbing them. She placed chaste kisses behind his ear lobe.

“Yes you have baby but I want more, can you do something else for me…so I know it’s real? Can you do this one thing to solidify us…make us one?”

“Yes yes anything, name it now.. you got it I swear…I want us to be one. Tell me what I have to do to earn you?” She sucked a hickey onto his neck, a warm hand down his grey sweats stroking the head of his dick softly as he breathed harshly in her ear. Terry was putty in her hand, his brain on autopilot as he turned into a living breathing ventriloquist dummy right before his own eyes. Worshipping wasn’t enough for him, she was goddess-like. She could snap her fingers and like a dog he would do what she said when she said it.

“Can you make someone disappear for me…I want you to be the last person he lays eyes on before you take his life, plus you're a beautiful sight who wouldn’t wanna die to your face daddy.”

Terry fell apart from that alone, spongy tip and her hand covered in webs of cum. She played with it some more on her hand before she stuffed the sticky fingers into her mouth. Making a scene of the milky white slime sticking to her lips. He gripped her chin and sucked her tongue into his mouth, he didn’t give one fuck about her having a mouth full of his nut.

“Count him as dead already, give me his address and workplace..let me prove how badly I want and need you.”

__

A/N: And that praise kink? IMMA WRITE IT. I hope yall enjoy these cuckoo birds as much as I do🫶🏾 I tried to tag everyone but if I missed you my bad!

@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy

[jobean12-blog]

Rush

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: You and Bucky have places to be and people to see but neither of you can seem to keep your hands to yourself.

Author's Note: All these new pictures of him dressed up....yummy! I would never be able to keep my hand off him 😏thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: it's soft and the love is always there but there's a lot of desperation and neediness, flirty tension, semi-public car sex, smut

“Why can’t you just get dressed here?” he pouts.

You step closer and press your body along his. “Because Nat asked me to come help her get ready and pick a dress.”

His hands slide around your waist, and he dips his head, lips hovering just above yours. “I think Nat can handle that herself.”

“Of course she can,” you answer as you fingers dance up his chest. “But it’s fun to get ready together.”

“I’m fun,” he practically whines before he kisses you.

“The most fun,” you laugh against his lips. “But you own clothes in three colors and have like two pairs of shoes and don’t wear any make up. It’s easy for you to get ready.”

“Hey!” you says, feigning hurt. “And you don’t need any make up.”

You smile and kiss him again. “Love you. I’ll be back to pick you up at seven.”

“Shouldn’t I be picking you up?” he says as he watches you walk toward the door.

“On your bike?”

You raise a brow and pop your hip.

“Sure! Why not?” he counters, stepping closer.

“Because I’ll be in a dress and heels and…”

“Doll,” he murmurs, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms again. “Just stay.”

At his pleading words and soft expression, you almost give in but then you feel his hand inching down your back and when he squeezes your ass you let out a squeal and push him away.

“You’re so full of shit Barnes. You just wanna get laid.”

His eyes widen.

“I…what?”

“I have to go,” you tell him, turning and grabbing the door to pull it open.

He lifts his metal hand above your head, flattening his palm to the wood and pushing it closed again.

“You have to say goodbye first,” he smirks.

You turn back around and drop your bag to the floor then stretch up to kiss his neck.

“Bye baby,” you whisper against his skin, trailing kisses along his jaw.

With a teasing brush of your lips, you start to move away but he grabs you and presses you into the door.

He reaches behind you, closing his fingers around the back of your neck, and tilts your head closer. His lips slide across yours and he eases his tongue inside and all at once it turns desperate.

When he finally breaks the kiss it’s with a low, hungry groan and his hand releases you, but his gaze doesn’t.

“I’m going to make you beg to come later doll face.”

“Is that a promise?” you breathe out as you cling to him for dear life.

The smug tilt of his lips is all the answer you get as you reach back and fumble for the doorknob.

“See you at seven doll.”

He’s dressed and waiting outside when you pull the car into your parking spot in the darkened garage under your apartment building. He’s wearing his black suit jacket and pants and a crisp white button down, the first few buttons open and the collar fluttering lightly in the wind.

He climbs into the passenger seat, grumbling about wanting to drive, and then looks over at you.

“Fuck,” he says. “Get out.”

You panic, looking down at yourself to make sure you didn’t spill something everywhere.

“I want to see you,” he says, leaning across your lap to open the door from the inside. “Get out so I can see you doll.”

“Oh.”

You climb out and smooth your hands down your dress and walk to the front of the car.

He doesn’t follow you out, he only slumps back against the seat and stares at you through the windshield.

You watch his mouth say, “fuck,” again.

“What?” you call out.

Shaking his head, he says, “you look gorgeous.”

When you get back into the car he immediately leans across the console, taking your face in his hands, and looks at you for a heavy, pounding heartbeat before he presses his mouth to yours.

As soon as he touches you, his lips part slightly and he exhales a quiet, “doll,” and then leans closer, taking your bottom lip between his.

Your hands fly into his hair, and you need to feel him along every inch of you. His sounds are so deep and quiet they’re like vibrations that run across your skin, taking you apart piece by piece; your blood that rushes too strong, your hands that slide down his chest, and legs that push up off the seat and over his lap.

He drags you down, grinding up and into you and you sigh out his name when you feel the thick press of his cock between your legs.

When he groans, it sends you over the edge and you’re tugging and pulling at the buttons of his shirt, his belt, anything you can get your hands on.

He’s one step ahead, reaching between you to unzip his pants and shove them down his hips. You feel his bare cock on your thigh, skin warm and soft around something so inflexible.

His long fingers fumble with your panties, pushing them aside, not even bothering to take them off, fingertips seeking and find you wet and needy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck baby. I can’t…I can’t wait. Need you now.”

You nod urgently and he holds himself, sinking deep inside as you both gasp and try to breathe.

His gaze catches yours and the unbridled desire and love in his expression makes you feel shaky and fragile.

He sits up, kissing you, groaning against your teeth when he’s buried inside and grunts these tiny perfect sounds of approval every time you rock forward and back.

Words of praise leave his lips, over and over, and more kisses, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck with more sounds of need.

Reaching between you, he teases with two fingers right where you need him, a ragged groan rumbling up his throat when you tighten around him, and the rush moves down your spine.

Your head falls back with a cry of his name, and he arches beneath you, shoving deeper inside.

It feels like forever before you catch your breath, your hands on his face and his soft sounds pressed into your skin. His kiss is gentle when he pulls away.

“I hope I didn’t ruin your dress.”

Your nose brushes his, a tender bump before a soft kiss.

“We can go clean up quick. Hopefully, we won’t be too late.”

With careful movements he lifts you off his lap and you do your best to keep your dress out of the way as you walk back into your apartment building. Thankfully, there aren’t any neighbors out in the hallway or stairwells, so you make it inside unseen.

He helps you clean up, his hands delicate and so different from their desperation just minutes ago.

“We could just skip the party…” he starts as he fixes his pants and shirt.

You smile but lift your hand as he advances.

“We’re going. And if I remember correctly you promised you’d have me begging to come later.”

His eyes darken and he hums low and deep.

“So…that’s what you can think about at the party and when we get home, you can make it happen.”

You slide past him, your breasts brushing against his chest as you lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Bucky presses you against the wall outside the elevator, growling into your neck over how long you had to stay at the fucking party. You nearly pulled over on the side of the road on the drive back because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Once you’re upstairs and manage to get your keys out he grabs them from you and opens the door, pushing you inside. You’re on your back on the floor only a split second before the door slams shut.

He hovers over you like a predator and you slide your hand down between his legs to grip him. His fingers work swiftly to slide your dress off, unzipping and pulling with ease. You push up into his touch and when you’re almost completely naked he shrugs out of his suit jacket and leans back over you.

His arms strain against the material of his dress shirt and it seems to somehow barely contain his biceps and the wide width of his chest. He runs a warm palm up your stomach and spreads his fingers.

You wait, about to tell him to stop staring and start fucking but then he stands and reaches for your hand, pulling you into him and wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m not fucking you on the floor,” he says simply.

“Then why did you put me there,” you ask with sass.

“I’m impatient.”

He can’t keep his hands off you as you walk toward the bedroom and when his hand dips between your legs to find you soaked he growls, caging you against the wall.

With heavy breaths he tries to regain his control, taking your chin between his fingers and holding your gaze.

“We’re never gonna make it to the bed doll.”

[muniimyg]

⋆꙳•❅ ksj: buy me presents ❆•꙳

in which you and your boyfriend, jin, do a gift exchange... you get him a new game console and he gifts you his credit card

series m.list // taglist

note: pretty intimate..... idk..... holy shit !!!!

warning: body worship, spitting, fingering, jin eats her ass and pussy ??? choking, raw sex, missionary, doggy, anal !!!! oc's legs are over her head at one point, and jin has a big cock (duh)

//

the christmas tree bathes the room in a soft, golden glow, its twinkling lights dancing over the crinkled wrapping paper scattered across the floor. the scent of cinnamon and pine lingers, weaving through the faint melody of holiday music humming softly from the speaker perched on the shelf.

you’re cross-legged on the rug, knees almost brushing seokjin’s, his gaze fixed on you with that familiar mix of curiosity and warmth. the final gift for him sits in your lap, its weight pressing into your palms, making your heart skip with a giddy kind of anticipation.

“okay, this is the big one,” you say, nudging the box toward him.

he eyes it suspiciously, his head tilting like he’s trying to solve a riddle without all the clues. “what is it?”

“just open it, jin,” you reply, leaning back on your hands, and biting back a grin.

he makes a show of inspecting the wrapping job first, his fingers tracing the perfectly folded edges. 

“you wrapped this, didn’t you?”

“obviously.”

“of course you did,” he mutters, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “it’s too perfect. how am i supposed to rip this open?”

“you could just do it,” you tease, gesturing impatiently. “before i take it back—”

immediately, he starts peeling the paper. he’s careful at first, then impatient when the box beneath reveals itself. when he lifts the lid, the air between you shifts.

“no way,” he breathes, staring at the pristine, matte-black console nestled inside. “a PS5?”

“yeah. do you like it?” you ask, your grin widening as his eyes flicker between the console and you, disbelief written all over his face.

but then he spots the second item tucked beneath it, a signed copy of valorant with the unmistakable signature of ninja, his favorite streamer.

“you’re kidding,” he says, pulling the case out with both hands like it’s the holy grail.

“merry christmas!” you say softly, watching as his lips part, his expression stuck somewhere between awe and amazement.

“this is—how did you even—” he trails off, his thumb brushing over the sharpie scrawl. “ninja… how? h-how’d you do this?”

“turns out he’s not that hard to track down if you know the right people,” you reply with a shrug, trying to play it cool even though your chest feels warm from how happy he looks. “he’s pretty nice too. chill guy.”

“you talked to him?”

“yeah. he said you’re handsome.”

jin sets the case down gently, like it��s made of glass, and reaches over to grab your hands, pulling you closer.

“this is insane,” he says, his voice quieter now, like he’s still processing it all. “you’re insane.”

“in a good way, right?”

“the best way,” he says, squeezing your hands before letting go and reaching for the console again. “i seriously don’t know how i’m supposed to top this. thank you, love.”

he reaches for you. you kiss him softly and giggle against his lips. he doesn’t want to let go of you just yet. seokjin leans in again, kissing you more. 

laughing, you pull away and reach your arms out to him. 

“my turn!” 

seokjin reaches behind him and takes out his present. his fingers nervously trace the edge of the ribbon tied around the small box in his hands. he looks at you, then at the box, then back at you, and finally thrusts it forward.

“here,” he says, voice low and almost embarrassed. “merry christmas, love.”

you take it gently, the velvet box cool against your palms. the name cartier gleams faintly on the lid, and your heart jumps. you glance up at him, but his eyes are fixed on the floor, his knee bouncing slightly.

lifting the lid, you see it—a thin gold promise ring, the dainty diamond catching the glow of the lights. 

it’s beautiful, understated in a way that feels so seokjin.

before you can say a word, he shifts forward, his hand brushing yours as he lifts the cushion beneath the ring. 

“there’s, uh… also this,” he mutters, revealing his sleek black credit card tucked underneath. he groans softly, his ears burning pink as he stumbles through his explanation. 

“to be so honest with you… i didn’t know what else to get you. the ring—it’s been in my sock drawer for 2 months. i couldn’t think, i ran out of time, and… i’m sorry. your present was so much better than mine. i feel so bad—”

your fingers tighten around the box, a laugh bubbling out of you before you can stop it. “seokjin,” you say, shaking your head, “this is perfect. thank you so much, love.”

he blinks at you, a little uncertain, and you reach for his hands, tugging him closer until your knees bump. 

“seokjin, i love it,” you murmur. “i love you.”

he exhales, shoulders relaxing as a small smile pulls at his lips. he takes the ring with careful hands, holding it like something precious. 

“this isn’t just a christmas gift,” he says softly, slipping it onto your finger. his eyes meet yours, steady and warm. “it’s a promise. i promise to take care of you, to make you laugh, to be patient when you’re stubborn and to listen when you need me to... and i promise to give you a better christmas gift next year… and the year after that. the year after that… and the year after—”

“i get it,” you laugh. “you could give me a paper ring and i’d still love it.”

he rolls his eyes, partly because he knows you’re telling the truth and partly because it’s riddiculous that he’d ever give you a paper ring. come on. he’s fucking rich and the ideal provider man. a paper ring? he’s not here to play games—10 carat ring minimum for your engagement (which he’s in the middle of planning). 

seokjin takes your hand and slips the ring on your 4th finger. 

“it fits,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over the ring now resting on your finger.

“it fits,” you echo, the corners of your mouth lifting as you admire the delicate band.

the mall is bustling with last-minute shoppers, but none of it phases you as you tug seokjin along, weaving through the crowd with his hand firmly clasped in yours. he follows you willingly, even when you pause outside a lingerie store, the display mannequins clad in delicate lace and silk.

you glance back at him, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. 

“what do you think? should i?”

his eyes widen slightly, his ears already tinged pink.

“uh—yeah. yes. absolutely.”

you giggle, dragging him inside.

a few minutes later, you’re behind a curtain, slipping into the first set—a soft pink number that feels like it was made for you.

“jin,” you call out, peeking your head through the curtain. “ready?”

“more than ready,” he replies, his voice slightly strained.

when you step out, his reaction is immediate. his jaw slackens, and he leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as he takes you in.

“oh my god,” he mutters, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “you’re—wow.”

you do a playful spin, the fabric fluttering lightly. “so? should i get it?”

“get all of them,” he says without hesitation. “max out the card. please."

seokjin fears he might cum too fast tonight.

you’re wearing one out of the literal twelve sets and he can’t breathe. as his fred chain dangles above you, he leans down to kiss you. before he does, he pauses.

his presence fills the space like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded. his eyes that have you pinned. dark and searching, like he’s memorizing every detail of you, every breath you take.

“you’re so…” his voice trails off, soft and low, like he’s lost the words somewhere between his chest and yours. his hand lifts, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw, then settling there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you tilt your head up, heart thundering in your chest as his thumb grazes your cheek, his touch both gentle and deliberate. he leans down even more, slow enough to send shivers down your spine. 

“love,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch, like he’s asking permission, like he’s afraid of what happens when he finally gives in. but then he does—closing the space between you, his mouth firm and soft all at once, his other hand slipping to your waist to hold you steady.

he kisses you like it’s the only thing he’s ever been sure of, his frame looming over you, protective and unyielding. his fingers tighten at your jaw, tilting your face just so, and when he deepens the kiss.

you grasp at his polo, bunching the fabric in your fists to keep yourself upright, and he makes this low, quiet sound in the back of his throat… it’s like the idea of you falling is too much. his lips leave yours for a moment, just long enough for him to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispers, his voice a little ragged, his thumb brushing once more against your cheek before his lips find yours again. “i love you so much.”

before you know it, he shifts, kissing you from your lips to down your neck. then, over your breasts. gently, he tugs on your new lace bra and reveals your breasts. he kisses them, finding your nipples along the way. sucking them, you let out a moan. 

then, he moves down. 

down to your stomach. 

down to your hips where he bites them. 

then, finally…

“all that lingerie shopping only for me to take it off of you, huh?” 

you giggle as he lifts your legs to get a better view of your pussy in the lace lingerie. he lets out a groan, admiring the way your body looks. quickly, he takes his shirt off and shifts out of his boxers. he’s totally naked now and you can’t help but admire his build. 

he’s so… strong. his body is so fucking lean and the way his muscle are carved makes it so difficult for you to not be soaking wet. 

and god… his cock?

his perfect cock. 

seokjin’s cock has to be the best one you’ve ever seen. actually, it’s the only one you’ve ever seen. you’ve been in a relationship with him since your early 20s and he was the one to take your virginity. when you talk about sex with your friends, you can’t help but feel sorry for them. 

not because their sex stories are mid… but because they don’t know how good you have it. how fucking good seokjin gives it to you. 

he always makes you cum first.

he’s good at foreplay—sometimes you cum so fast and hard that you sob. 

despite his size (which is an XL), he truly knows how to fuck. he’s so hot. all his mannerisms and the way he maneuvers during sex make your inside tighten and flip over. it’s almost indescribable how good he makes you feel during sex… just the thought alone of having sex with him gets you wet. to be in this position? underneath him, wearing the lingerie he bought you? 

you’re as wet as a fucking rain forest. 

and he knows. 

“so wet, love.”

“i know.”

“for me?”

“only for you.”

he smirks as he takes his cock and gives himself a few lazy pumps. he brings one of your legs over his shoulder and pushes the fabric to the side. he then drags the tip of his cock around your entrance. he taps on it and lowers his head to spit on your clit. jin takes a moment to massage his saliva into your clit, earning moans from you. 

“wanna play with you,” he mumbles. “but i… i can’t. you’re so pretty right now, love. can i just tell you that? you’re so perfect. i love the way your tits…” 

he pauses and caresses them. you get goosebumps. 

“they’re so plump. i love how they fit in my hands and… i love it when i stuff my face in them. so fucking perfect… and your neck,” seokjin’s hand trails up to your neck. he cups them, lightly choking you. “i love it when i wrap my hands around them. so dainty. so perfect for me…”

then, he cups your face and tuns his thumb over your lips. 

“pretty lips too… love it when they’re wrapped around my cock. love it when you kiss me and i bite them. i love how they feel agaisnt my skin… y-you’re… so fucking beautiful, love. your body is my favourite thing in this world. it’s my favourite gift. what did i do to deserve you?”

as you’re about to reply, you let out a small gasp as he pushes himself inside you. 

you squirm, trying to adjust to the sudden harsh push. his cock is hard and long, you feel it reach your guts. 

he stays still for a moment, lowering his body and kissing your neck. in your ear, he murmurs; “you okay?”

“mhm.. so big, love.”

“sorry,” he chuckles. “do you want me to pull out? i didn’t stretch you out… just… just wanted to be in you.”

“it’s okay,” you tell him, reaching to fix his hair. “can i have a minute, though?”

he nods with a soft smile. “of course, love. let me know when i can move.”

you nod and he continues to kiss your neck. he sucks on it, working on giving you a hickey. you try to relax your upper body and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. the sharpness of his cock inside you eases for a moment and you take that as a sign. 

“ready,” you whisper. “softly please.” 

seokjin moans in response as he gently thrusts inside you. 

he plants his forearms around you and pushes himself in deeper. his chain dangles on top and you watch it, trying to distract yourself from the burn. soon, you adjust and begin to feel the pleasure. when you feel it, you wrap your legs around his torso. jin takes note and begins to fuck you faster. you hold onto him, unable to stop yourself from moaning and groaning. 

he grunts a few times, feeling your warm pussy tighten around him. 

“jin…”

“yes, love?”

“doggy?” 

you don’t have to tell him twice. 

seokjin pulls out and gets up from the bed. he stands on the edge as you get on all fours. you arch your back as he takes your lace pantie and tugs it to the side. he slips his cock back in and you let out a shaky moan. 

he begins to fuck you, his pelvis hitting your ass loud and fast. 

“this ass….” seokjin breathes in awe. he slaps it before squeezing it. “god, it’s so perfect. look at your curves… love, you’re so perfect. i want to buy every piece of lingerie the world has to offer. you need to be on display… you’re so fucking perfect, my love. oh fuck, i… wow, this ass is so fucking big, i wish i could—f-fuck. let me just—”

without warning, he pulls out and kneels. seokjin shoves his face in your ass and begins to eat you out. he digs himself under, running his nose through your folds and a little on your clit. next thing you know, he’s running his tongue all the way your asshole. you yelp. 

“anal?” he requests. 

“sure.” you breathe, “can you do the thing—”

without hesitation, he stands up and reaches for your neck. he grips it tightly, choking you with a good pleasure. seokjin then runs his hand through your pussy and spreads your wetness into the rim of your ass. he spits on his cock, spreading the saliva to make it more slippery. then, he shoves it inside. 

you breathe in the sharpness and pleasure. 

seokjin chokes you a little harder as he fucks your ass. 

"fuck. you're so tight... so fucking tight... i love you. thank you for letting me have this... love fucking your ass, love."

"mhmm," you moan. "feels so good... cock so big, jin. i love it."

then, you cough and he lets go. 

his hands move to your hips, holding them steady as he fucks you. your body follows and he watches in disbelief how lucky he is to have you. 

then, his fingers find their way to your clit. underneath, he plays with you. you throw your head back from how fucking good it all feels. he plays with your pussy, flicking, pinching, and fingering you. 

“selfish little thing,” seokjin hums. “you want it all, don’t you? you like it when i fuck you in the ass and play with your pussy. i choke you and you love it. i… i give you everything. i love to do this, you know? i love giving you everything.”

you moan at his words. 

then, you hear him pant and feel him fuck you harder. 

“f-fuck,” he stutters. 

then, a few seconds later, as you feel his dick twitch—he pulls out. 

not to cum. 

but to flip you over. 

he kisses you while his hands guide your legs to go over your head. he stretches you, and you almost sob from the way your pussy pulsates. aside from all the fucking positions and everything you two have done so far—he’s also fucking insanely handsome. 

his innocent face and soft features contradict so much of what he’s done to you tonight. 

he takes your hands and tells you to hold the position. wrapping your arms around your legs, he kneels over and spits in your pussy again. you watch as his saliva slips inside you. then, he takes his cock and runs the head over your pussy. he pushes the tip in and then takes it out. he drags it down to your ass, lifts you a bit, and does the same to your asshole. 

“which one should i fuck? i love both equally.” 

you pout. 

“my pussy, please.”

he smirks lazily. “so polite.”

then, he shoves his hard, thick, long cock inside your pussy. 

he pumps himself inside and out of you. his eyebrows furrow from the pleasure and you feel him stiffen on top of you. you clench your pussy as you feel it throb. he fucks you through the sensation. 

“jin…” you breathe. “i’m… i’m gonna cum—oh my g-god—”

he slaps your pussy. 

then, he fucks you harder. 

“can’t this pretty pussy take more?”

you pout at him. 

“i’m… i’m s-so close,” you let out a sob. “you’re so mean.”

he chuckles and lowers himself. he kisses you and swats your hands away from your legs. finally, you let them go and lay properly. his hands then roam your body as he kisses you. against your lips, he murmurs;

“sorry, sorry.. got carried away. i love you, ___. sorry, love.”

as he fucks you, you forgive him. “it’s okay, love.”

“love, you cum if you want.”

you shift and give him a tired smile. 

“but you said not to."

"don't listen to me," he huffs. "i lose my mind whenever i'm inside you."

you giggle and kiss him once. twice. and then a third time before suggesting; "soft, lazy, sloppy missionary? think i can last longer.”

seokjin chuckles and nods. he kisses the top of your head and wraps himself around you. 

“whatever you want, love. i'm gonna give you everything.”

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 16 - Self Sacrifice

Summary: poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: angst, injuries, hurt/comfort.

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“Ghost! We need that door open now!” Price shouts as he turns. Gaz comes over to the window in the door. 

“On the console, there should be a green switch. Try flipping it.” He says. You nod heaving as the fresh oxygen in the room slowly gets replaced with whatever gas is being pumped in. Finding the green switch is harder than you think. The gas is stinging your eyes now, they fill with water and you have to keep brushing tears out of the way with your free hand. 

It feels like you’re looking forever, your fingers running over every button and switch. You finally find it blinking a few times to get the tears out your eyes before flipping it. The switch clicks and the hissing stops. You regain your composure, you cough breathing in big gulps of air. 

Your hand squeezes your vest then you hear coughing. You look over at the window. You see Price cough, you can hear the others start too. You look back at the console. 

It’s you or them. Fuck.  

Your eyes lock onto Price as you wipe the tears from your face. Fuck . This was going to suck. You can’t let them die though. You move back over to the green switch. 

“Dont, you dare!” Price shouts between coughs. You look over at him. You can’t listen to them suffer. You can’t let them die. 

You flick the switch. There’s a few seconds of silence then the hissing starts up again. The smell of chemicals fill the room making your eyes sting, slowly their coughing stops as yours starts up again. 

“NO!” Price shouts, you look over at him, your hand comes up to your nose and mouth. It doesn’t matter though. You move away from the console and towards the window. 

“Can’t let you die.” You wheeze, your eyes are stinging, you can barely see him now. You think back to the kiss, the sex. You wipe your eyes, looking past Price but you can’t see anything. 

“Ghost. That door needs to be opened!” You hear Price shout. “Gaz, is there anything you can do?” 

“I’m trying!” You hear Gaz shout. Your lungs are burning now, there’s not much clean air  in the room, your head is starting to spin. You can’t tell if it’s the poison or the lack of oxygen. It doesn’t matter. They’re safe. 

Your hand drops from your face and you smile at him. For a second your eyes clear, you can see his face, his hand pressed up against the glass. You reach up and press your hand against his. You swear you can feel the heat from his hand on the other side of the door. 

“Price.” You cough, pressing your body against the door to hold yourself upright. You don’t know how much time you have. You don’t expect them to save you, but if they don’t get out you’ll haunt them from the beyond. The thought makes you chuckle which throws you into a coughing fit. 

“GAZ!” You hear Price shout. You slam your hand against the glass and he turns back to look at you. It’s not Gaz’s fault, it’s no one’s fault. You hear banging, pounding against metal.

“Price. Thank you.” 

“John, and you can thank me later.” He says, you smile, coughing. There’s not going to be a later. You can’t hold yourself up for much longer black spots flash in your vision. 

“Got it!” You hear Ghost shout. You try to take a breath in but you can’t panic rises in you and your legs give way. You fall to the floor looking up to see the gas coming in through the vents. 

You die and they live. It was how it’s supposed to end. Ever since the beginning when they were going to put a bullet in your head. Maybe it’s fate or something. It feels like a fitting end. You let out one last long breath before everything goes black.

…

Price is holding his breath as your body slides down to the floor. He watches you go limp against the door. He wants to tear the door off, they need to get you out of there. Suddenly there’s a wiring sound and the gas in the room starts to get sucked back up the vents. 

A few seconds later the door clicks and slides open. Price moves to the side, Soap and Ghost push past him and grip your vest pulling you out the room and into the hallway. 

“Is she breathing?” Price asks, he doesn’t get a response straight away. “Soap!”

“She’s breathing, barely.” He replies, his ear pressed up against your face.

“What the fuck happened?” Price asks following Gaz into the main room.

“Makarov left a trap for us. He knew we were getting close.” Gaz says. “There'll be more Konni on the way we need to leave.” 

“Shit.” Price curses under his breath pulling the sat-phone off his vest. “Ghost, go get us a car. Gaz get what data you can.” He holds the phone up to his ear listening to it ring out. 

“Price.” Lawell’s voice comes through the phone.

“Laswell. We need exfil, medevac.” 

“Not possible.” 

“Why?”

“Captain, you did this without our approval, we cannot send unit’s into Russia right now.” Shepherd says. Price pulls the phone away from his ear and curses. 

“Makarov is dead.”

“Good. But you still have a job to do, Captain. Secure the weapons in Russia and the nukes in Urzikstan then we can call it even for this little revenge mission you’ve been on.” Shepherd says, Price looks over at Gaz typing on the laptop. 

“Hard to do when you’re one man down.” Price spits. 

“Who is injured? Or is it that smuggler you’ve insisted on dragging around?” Shepherd asks, he sounds mad. Price doesn’t say anything, he hears a sigh down the line.

“Acceptable losses I'm afraid. For the best really, the amount of paperwork she’s generated is unbelievable.” Shepherd says. Price turns to look at you, Johnny is holding you in his arms, all the colour looks like it has drained from your face. Acceptable loss . It makes him mad, so mad he wants to throw the phone across the room. You’re not a loss, because they’re not going to lose you. 

“You have a job to do Captain and I would suggest you do it quickly. If we have to send someone else in to clean up your mess it won’t end well for you.” There’s the warning, the threat. It almost makes Price laugh, he holds it together turning to look at Gaz who nods at him. 

“We’re sending the data from Russia.” Price says keeping his voice level. 

“Good. Now get back to Urzikstan. Preferably without picking up any more strays.” The call ends. 

Acceptable loss . How dare he.

“When’s evac coming?” Soap asks. Price swallows, building his confidence back up. 

“There is no evac. We need to get to Urzikstan ourselves.” Price says.

“What!” Soap shouts gripping you tighter. He can hear the anger in his voice. “Cap, she needs medical attention.” 

“If it’s anything like the gas I inhaled in Verdansk she’ll be fine.”

“It’s nothing like the gas from Verdansk.” Soap snaps back before looking down at you. 

“Price, vehicle secured.” Ghost’s voice comes through the radio. 

“Okay, let's move.” Price says. 

…

Ghost insisted on driving. Price wanted to drive, he wanted to have something else to focus his mind on other than the sound of your laboured breathing from the back seats. He should be happy, you’re breathing which means you’re alive. As long as you’re alive he’s not going to panic. 

He looks back in the rear view mirror. Soap is still fussing over you, he hasn’t let you go since they dragged you out that room. His fingers brushing your hair and face, his other arm keeping you steady while Ghost barrels down the road. 

He looks over at Gaz, their eyes meet for a second and he looks down to his hand rubbing your thigh. He smiles, swallowing some of the dread away and looking back out to the road. Kyle was the most sceptical about you, said he didn’t want to waste time getting close to you if you were going to betray them.

Johnny tried to convince him it wasn't going to be like that. Even Price had his doubts, all the way up until the kiss, he couldn’t wait any longer not after hearing what Simon and Johnny got up to. There was something in your eyes, something about the way you kissed him back he knew you weren't going to betray them. 

He can almost feel the guilt radiating off of Kyle. He never got to give you a chance, now he might never get to. Price lets out a breath pushing the thought away. They’re not going to lose you, they’re taking you to Farah, they have doctors, you’ll be fine. 

“What the hell?” Ghost says. Price snaps over to look at him as the car rolls to a stop.

“What is it?” He asks. 

“I don’t know, something’s broken.” He says getting out of the car. Price follows him, they walk over and Ghost opens the hood, steam and smoke fills the air. It’s so hot they both have to take a step back. When it dissipates, Ghost reaches down to touch something but pulls his hand back straight away. 

“Fuck. Cooling system must be broken or something. Engine overheated.” Ghost says. 

“Shit.” Price responds looking around. This is not a good place to be stuck. They’re by the border but there’s nothing around for miles, scattered farms and some houses. No cars around for them to take, it’s starting to get dark too. 

“How far can we push this before it breaks totally?” Price asks.

“I don’t know, a kilometre, maybe 2 I wouldn’t want to risk it and be left with no transport whatsoever. If we could leave it for a few hours to cool we might be able to make it over the border.” Ghost says, Price sighs looking around again. 

“Price!” Soap calls. He hears the urgency in his voice, the fear. He walks round the car leaving Ghost. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning over you. You’re shaking, beads of sweat have formed over your body. 

“Feel.” Soap says pulling Price’s hand to touch you. 

“She’s freezing.” He says pressing on your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“What’s wrong with the car?” Gaz asks. 

“Overheating, Ghost thinks the cooling is broken or something.” Price says as the hood of the car is slammed close. 

“There’s a house back down the road at the end of the field. Looks empty, maybe we could see if they have anything to help?” Ghost asks. Price looks over to where he’s pointing.

“That or we can sit for a few hours, let the car cool.” He looks back over at you. “Get her inside somewhere warm, try and get her temperature back up.” He doesn’t like the thought of stopping here, but they’re running out of options. 

Everyone seems to silently agree, Price and Ghost get back in the car. The drive back to the house felt like it was taking hours, not minutes, the drive down the mud offroad was the worst. Ghost had to slow down to stop the car from skidding and Price was worried they could get stuck. When they make it to the house it really is starting to get dark. There are no lights turning on, that's a good sign. There are plants in the window that look like their wilting, maybe this place was abandoned when Konni increased their presence in the area. 

“Me and Ghost will clear the place. You two stay here.” Price says as Ghost gets out of the car. There’s looks of concern on Gaz, and Soap’s face, your lips almost look like they're turning blue. They need to be quick, before this gets any worse. 

The house is clear, they know that before they make it to the second floor. Opening the door to furniture covered in sheets, boxes strewn all over the place. Upstairs the building is an empty bar one bedroom with a double bed and a bathroom. 

Gaz and Soap are already carrying you into the house before they get the all clear. They place you down on the sofa running around and finding anything to cover you in. Even with a pile of blankets on you covering everything but your face your lip is still quivering. 

“Body heat.” Gaz says. “She needs body heat, like if someone has hypothermia you warm them up with your heat so they don’t warm up too fast.” 

“She doesn’t have hypothermia.” Soap says. 

“No but she’s freezing and her lips are turning purple.”

“It’s worth a try.” Price says, you look like you’re getting worse, not better. “There’s a bed upstairs.” Soap sighs but starts pulling the blankets off you before scooping you back up in his arms. Everyone follows him to the second floor. Ghost pulls the sheets off the bed and Soap lays you down. 

“Take her clothes off, it needs to be skin to skin contact.” Gaz says pulling the bottom of your shirt up. Soap raises an eyebrow but listens, helping him strip you down to your underwear. Then they do the same stripping down to their boxers before climbing into bed. 

Gaz rolls you on your side pressing his chest against your back. “Christ, she’s freezing.” He says reaching down for the duvet and pulling it over you all. 

“You sure this will work?” Soap asks reaching over to wrap his arms around Gaz pulling them close. 

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Gaz says. Ghost lets out a sigh slumping down on the armchair in the room, he pinches the bridge of his nose closing his eyes. Price walks over to him and rests his hand on his shoulder. 

“She’ll be okay.” He says, he’s not sure if he believes it himself but it has to be real. There’s no way after everything that this is the end. 

“And if she’s not?” He asks looking up at Price.

“Then at least we know who to blame.” Price says.

…

Everything hurts. Your chest hurts the most, and your eyes. You’re freezing but there’s someone laid next to you. You move, hands instantly find you, voices filling the air as you open your eyes to look around. 

“Eazy, you’re okay.” Johnny says. You open your mouth to speak but it’s dry, you slap your lips together trying to swallow what little moisture there is. It throws you into a coughing fit. You shoot up in the bed, your hand pressed on your chest. 

Hands land on your shoulders and back as you try to suck in gulps of air between the coughs. Someone presses a bottle of water in your hand and you bring it to your lips gulping it down. The coughing stops and you sit there panting. It’s like you can’t get a full breath of air in. 

You can hear the wheezing in your breaths, each breath stings your chest. It feels like you can still smell the sickly sweet odour of the gas. Someone reaches over and takes the bottle out of your hand. You look up to see Price stood by the side of the bed. 

“John.” You say smiling at him. Your voice is hoarse, it doesn’t sound like your own, it sounds weird. Your free hand comes up to rub your neck. He smiles back at you and you look round at Johnny and Gaz holding you up. 

“Where’s your shirts?” You ask, turning to Gaz. Before any of them can respond he leans in and kisses you. His kiss is soft, his hands come up to cup your face. You want to keep kissing him, you want his lips and hands to never let you go. You can’t kiss him for long though, you’re holding your breath, you have to break from him to breathe. 

“Kyle,” he says. You smile at him.

“You gave us a proper scare lass. Thought we’d lost you.” Johnny says pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head. 

“Don't do anything like that again. I don’t think my heart can take it.” Johnny says chuckling. You smile in his chest, yawning and closing your eyes. They made it out, made it out safe and managed to get you out too. They didn’t have to do that but they did. 

You feel Kyle’s hands rubbing your back and John sits down on the bed. You open your eyes looking up at him. He reaches over to stroke your cheek. 

“Thank you.” He says, you smile at him. “But seriously, don’t ever do that again.”

“Only if your life depends on it.” You reply. He tuts, shaking his head. 

“Get some rest.” He says leaning forward to kiss your forehead before standing up off the bed. You look over at the light coming in from the doorway. You see Ghost’s silhouette blocking most of it. 

“Good to have you back.” He says. You nod yawning again, your head still feels stuffy. 

“C’mon, a few hours kip will do you the world of good.” Johnny says encouraging you to lie back. As soon as your head hits the pillows you feel exhausted. 

“Will you stay?” You ask as you close your eyes.

“Yeah, we’ll stay.” Kyle says as you feel him lay back down next to you.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Johnny says pulling the duvet over you. 

“Good.” You whisper feeling their arms wrap around you, pressing their bodies against yours. You never would have imagined the very people you thought would end your life in a heartbeat would be the people you risk your life for. A few days ago you were all strangers, now you’re lovers? Partners? It doesn’t matter, all you know is you wouldn’t want to change it for the world.

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[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (5)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: the support for this fic has been amazing, so trust me when I say that I take no pleasure in all the angst and heartache that follows (or do I?) I'm sorry, readers. I'm sorry, Ewan. We'll sort this out somehow - all my love, Freyja <3

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

A beginning. A first date. Whispers, sightings abound. Falling in love. A necessary lie. Hearts breaking. An end.

Ewan stands in a studio backlot in LA, bouquet of flowers clasped in one hand while the other is nervously stuffed in his tracksuit pocket.

He's itching for a smoke, but he stops himself from doing so, in some lovesick attempt to keep himself as clean and nice-smelling as possible when he sees you again. He already mentally kicked himself for not dressing better, clad in his staple Adidas blacks. But he couldn't wait any longer.

His flight from New York to LA hadn't been the most pleasant. His mind raced for hours, the thought of you being his only consolation. His meeting did not go well.

But enough of it. There is you, here, now.

In this moment, you are all that matters.

The first couple of workers make their way out the studio doors, chatting enthusiastically despite their tired faces. Ewan shuffles on his feet, keeping an eye out for you. Soon enough, your assistant Clara exits, and he waves in an attempt to get her attention.

"Ewan!" she greets brightly. "She'll be out in a while. Are those flowers?" A blush materialises on her face, and she looks so excited Ewan awkwardly thinks she would take them for herself.

"Yeah, do you think she'll like them?" he asks, giving the bouquet a once-over. The classic dozen long-stemmed red roses, kept together with black-dyed muslin wrap.

"She'll love them!" As if perfectly timed, the doors open again, and they spot you walking out with several of your co-stars. Clara smiles to herself as she walks away to give you two some space.

When your eyes land on him, it's like everything falls into place, the ear-splitting smile you give him enough to quell any worries he might have. You meet each other halfway, melding together in an embrace so tight he nearly drops the flowers to the ground.

"Look who it is," you say, still wrapped in his arms, "the internet's babygirl."

"Just your baby, darling." He pulls apart, but only just enough to look at you. "I missed you."

"Mmm, I can see that."

You're about to comment on the flowers, but he can't hold back any longer.

And so your first proper kiss happens behind an LA studio, adjacent to the parking lot and surrounded by prying eyes. The burnt orange haze of the sunset peers from the horizon, casting a glow on the scene. And it's perfect. His lips are gentle as they dance with yours, his warm breath fanning your face when he breaks apart for mere milliseconds, only to resume the kiss as if he can never get enough.

A moment later, there's a couple of woohoos from a distance, your costars oooing and aahing at the sight, making you giggle against Ewan's lips.

"Shall we, then, darling?" Ewan asks.

"Shall we?" Your brows raise, mirroring his question.

"Our first date." He takes a step back, but only to ceremoniously hold his hand out for you to take. "Will you do me the honour?"

"Why, good sir, are we going on a regular date or some super fancy ball?" you laugh, lacing your fingers with his anyway.

He only smiles, planting yet another kiss on the corner of your mouth. "God, I missed you."

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You can't help but cast glances at him every now and then. Ewan, effortlessly cool as he drives the both of you across LA, with one veiny hand gripping the steering wheel while the other envelops yours on your lap.

His thumb draws circles on the back of your hand, and you're thankful for it; you need the comfort because you're growing nervous. A first date.

A first date! And not just with anyone.

"What is it?" he smirks, his eyes finding yours as the car idles at an intersection. There's a smugness there. He caught you staring.

You avert your gaze, a pleasant wave of heat rising to your face.

"Hmm?" he leans across, pecking your cheek and resting his forehead against your hair, eager to get a rise out of you. "I mean, I've been told I'm handsome, darling. You already know, something of a babygirl. But it's even more special that you think so."

The light turns green. You grab his jaw, and lightly push him away, raising your eyebrows. "Careful, baby," you smile knowingly. "Your Aemond is showing."

"Oh, yeah?" The car revs up again, rows of palm trees speeding past in a blur. "Does that - uhh - turn you on?"

Your head snaps to him at his bold insinuation. He gives off an unaffected air, smirking to himself in an undeniably hot what-are-you-gonna-do-about-it way. But you make him nervous too. He swallows, and clears his throat, anticipating your response.

"Maybe," you bite your lip, squeezing his hand harder, "but you don't need to put on your Aemond to turn me on."

"Just me, then?" he chuckles lowly, feeling lighter.

"Yup," you shrug. "But if you ever wanna put on a blonde wig and an eyepatch, I won't stop you."

"For when, darling?" Oh he knows what you meant. It's been a constant on his mind too. He's lost count of the nights when thoughts of you consume him, and what happy news it is that you might have been going through the same.

"Mmm... " You look out the window innocently, but you guide his hand higher up on your thigh, allowing his fingers to splay open and squeeze at the flesh covered only by the material of your jeans.

A minute passes. Driving past a street of exclusively only mansions and expensive cars. Then downtown, low-rise buildings as far as the eye can see. Another minute, slow and steady.

Then he says, "You're going to fucking drive me insane, baby."

A soft sigh escapes your lips. "Well, you started it."

He sneers, accompanied by a humourless shake of his head. "I think you overestimate my self-control." The air is thick, but it's quickly diffused when he pulls into a clearing. You realise you're out of the main road, the car slowly coming to a halt in an empty lot beside a low brick building.

"We're here, darling," he says, but he gives you a look that clearly means this matter isn't over. You have something of his, and he's going to claim it.

He half-jogs over to your side, opening the door for you and taking your hand in his.

"Where are we?" The building is nondescript, with a plain white facade, a small cafe and a laundromat on street level, both of which happen to be closed.

"Had to call in a favour from an old mate of mine. His family moved here from Derby a couple of years ago, and they own that laundromat over there," he explains, leading you inside through a door in the side alley.

You're met with a narrow flight of stairs and he gestures for you to go ahead. "What have you got up your sleeve, Mitchell?" you ask, excitement taking root as you climb up to the very top.

It only takes three floors before you reach the heavy steel door of the roof deck. He shuffles to your side, one hand on your back to keep you steady, and pushes the door open which relents with a loud squeak.

You're met with something you have only seen before on Pinterest boards - the rooftop is softly aglow from hanging string lights. In the far side, a screen projector is set up, and in front of it is a low plush sofa cocooned amidst throw blankets and cushions. There's a wooden tray on one on the blankets, containing treats of all sorts and a bottle of wine glistening in its ice bucket.

You take in the magical ambience of the scene with widened eyes. The haze of faint LA sunlight only serves to make everything more beautiful, though it seems hardly necessary.

"Do you like it, darling?" he asks and what a ludicrous question it is. Do you like it?

He continues, "I admit I didn't have to lot of time to set it up, and I had a bit of help but - mmmpph - "

You lace your hands around his neck, silencing him with a searing kiss. He moans unto you, his tongue dipping past your lips as he nearly relinquishes control. He could forget about the set up, the date he had planned, and just take you here on the rooftop. Would you let him?

"I take it that everything is to your liking?" he purrs, watching you in adoration as your head swivels on its own accord to canvas the scene yet again.

You spot something in the corner - a bouquet of fresh flowers surrounded by some lightweight paper lanterns.

"Oh no!" you moan. "The flowers you gave me... I left them in the car!"

He laughs fondly at the sheer panic on your face. "Don't worry about them, my love. I've got more flowers for you here." He points to the bouquet you just saw.

"But those ones... won't they wilt or something? I don't want them to go to waste."

His heart swells at your genuine concern. The furrow between your brows, the way you chew on your lip in worry, your fingers absentmindedly clutching his wrist - it all makes him fall even harder.

"They'll be fine, darling."

"Are you sure?"

He nods once, pulling you in, "Mhmm, just... come here, please." Another kiss, gentler this time.

This is bliss, he thinks, sweet solace after his days in New York, days he aims on forgetting from now on.

You eventually find yourselves on the velvet seat, the tray of food nestled on your laps. He pours wine into the paper cups as you reach for a chocolate-covered strawberry and bring it to his lips.

"Thanks, love," he mumbles with his mouth full.

"Oh, baby, you've got chocolate on there," you motion to his bottom lip.

He sets the cups of wine on the tray, making a move to wipe it off, but just as his fingers hover, his mind takes on an alternative action.

"You do it, then," he leans close, tilting his jaw.

"Okay." With a smile, you begin to oblige him, but you halt when he playfully says, "Not with your hands, darling."

You feel your heart race at his teasing, and at the way he stares at you with blatant desire. Never mind the fact that you were just making out moments ago. The rush of being with him has not subsided. Maybe it never will.

You kiss him, paying mind to the smudge on his lip, licking your own lips afterward to savour the taste.

You pull back slightly. "All better," you say, patting his cheek lovingly.

"Hmm," he hums, "I suppose I'll just have to make a mess of myself more often."

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Nightfall had already descended when the credits to The Princess Bride start rolling, dotting the sky with twinkling stars.

Ewan has his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, before he declares, "If they ever do a remake to this film, I'll only take the role if you would be my Buttercup."

"As you wish," you smile, nuzzling closer against his black hoodie. "I remember watching this when I was a kid. Believe it or not, it was one of the films that inspired me to get into acting."

"Did you wanna be Buttercup, my Buttercup?"

"No," you respond. "I wanted to do what Inigo Montoya was doing. He's so insanely cool."

"Of course you did," he says affectionately, "my darling."

"What about you, hmm? Did you always want to be an actor?" you ask. You might have read an interview of his where he explains something to that effect, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"As far as I can remember, yes. It was always going to be acting for me. Even when everyone laughed it off when I brought it up in primary school." He shakes his head, the once bitter memory reduced to an anecdote. "I... I find purpose in what we do, being able to slip inside different skins, different lives. It allows me to explore the human psyche, you know, and to make sense of all this madness."

You listen intently, in awe at his words and his sheer sincerity. The world is made better with Ewan able to live his passions. And you feel fortunate that his life is one he may be willing to share with you, if everything goes well down the line.

"I almost forgot - you have to tell me about how your big meeting went."

He shifts slightly, eyes darting downward as he pouts on instinct. He realises he can no longer keep the subject under wraps.

You sense his reluctance, and immediately try to soften your approach. It could have gone either way, and though rejection is part of an actor's bread and butter - you certainly would know - there are some instances where you just let it get to you.

"Is this producer as scary as they say?" you ask lightly, poking his chest.

He smiles, but his expression is still clouded. "You know those mafia dons in Scorcese's movies? This guy practically inspired them, I'd say."

"Goodness."

"He did try to give off a welcoming air, but there was still something... sinister underneath."

"I suppose when anyone is afforded this much power..."

"Especially in this industry..."

"Mhmm." Face half-burrowed in the soft material of his hoodie, you tilt your head up at him. "So it was a bust, huh?"

He shrugs, "The role just wasn't for me. It's all for the best, I reckon."

You hold his hand tight, eager to soothe any worries he might have. "That's a shame. They would have been damn lucky to have you."

He smiles, flattered by your comment. "I am lucky to just be here with you, darling."

You smile in return, tilting your lips to his, coaxing him to lean in close and seal the kiss.

And he does.

And this is the most perfect first date there ever was or ever will be.

"Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I've fallen in love with you."

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The next few weeks pass blissfully slowly, you and Ewan caught in the euphoria that only a fresh relationship can bring.

Rehearsals for your upcoming movie had ended, and you get a month off before filming begins in Atlanta. Ewan also stays in LA, keen on spending every waking minute with you. His team takes advantage of the situation, booking him for several interviews and a feature with Esquire. You were more than happy to accompany him - or rather, distract him - on these occasions.

Once, the team even jokes that you had to stay in the other room because Ewan keeps looking over at you behind the camera and forgetting what to say. Ewan, of course, quickly protests. "My girl stays with me," he confidently says.

It doesn't take long for news to spread. Rumours, at first. Allegations bred from blurry fan photos and supposed encounters with yourself and Ewan while out in LA.

They were holding hands!

They're not just friends, I swear. He was kissing her the whole time in the restaurant!

What about her and Jacob? I thought they'd been dating all this time?

House of the Dragon stars spotted on a date in Hollywood!

Headlines. Gossip fodder. Statements made by people who claim to have seen you.

Sure, you do meet some of the sweetest and friendliest fans during all this, who only gush at the sight of their favourite actors getting together.

There are others, especially online, who are less pleasant, accusing you of cheating on your supposed lover Jacob Elordi.

Jacob, already used to rolling with the punches, gives you a call so the two of you can laugh it off together.

"I'm happy for you, mate," he expresses, voice muffled from the other line. "You and Ewan... you guys just make sense. Do you remember that night when he stormed in all jealous like? Holy shit..."

As if on cue, Ewan shifts underneath the sheets from behind you, peppering your naked back with soft kisses. "Tell him I said hi," he whispers, his tone doing nothing to mask his possessiveness.

And so the days roll on, and it couldn't be more perfect.

That is, until the first cracks started to show. As they always do.

You're in a meeting with your publicist Mallory, at one of the many quaint hipster cafés in LA, discussing your upcoming filming schedule and the other things you have booked in between.

"You've got a busy few months ahead, but the film is of course top priority," she says. "It's slated to be the top rom-com of next year."

"That's great, Mal."

"I mean, I think you know that Ewan was meant to lead that romance-fantasy franchise? That's a big deal, and people are saying it'll be bigger than Twilight!" she gestures wildly with her hands. "But since he had a falling out with Bruce Haversham - and trust me, if he ever sets up a meeting with you, you do not want to go against him - what was I saying? Oh yeah, the release for that will be delayed so your film will get prime spot for a summer premiere."

You grow apprehensive at her words. Ewan never got into detail about that meeting, and you didn't really want to pry. But if that producer's reputation is indeed accurate, it doesn't bode well for Ewan's career that he might have done anything that displeased him.

With a sickening dread, you realise that Haversham might have something to do with Ewan failing to book the two films he went for in the past month. Despite the fact that the local casting director practically raved about his audition, and stated that he pretty much had both of the roles in the bag.

"Mal, you know Donna right? Ewan's publicist?" you ask, knowing that she and Donna are under the same agency. "Does she talk to you about Ewan at all? About what went down in New York?"

"A little, honey, yes," she admits. "But about that meeting, I thought you would know. He didn't tell you?"

"Not in too many words, no. Just that it didn't work out, and that the film wasn't meant for him."

"Oh, I see," she smiles, almost ruefully, like she feels sorry for you. That look compels you to ask, "What do you know, Mal? Tell me."

Her hand reaches and clutches yours atop the table. "From what I heard, he refused the role because of you."

"What?"

"It's rare with young actors like you guys, to be so devoted so early on."

Growing impatient, you say, "Mal, please, what are you saying?"

"Look, I don't know the details of it. But apparently Haversham wanted him to get into a PR stint with his love interest for the film, and to hide whatever real relationship he has going on with you. This ordeal was going to be more restrictive than the arrangement you have with Jacob, which is more or less over at this point."

"I didn't know that," you whisper hoarsely.

"Honey, don't worry about it," she consoles you, taking a sip of her coffee. "Like I said, I don't know much. I can get you in touch with Donna if you want to speak with her? I'm 100% positive it's not all bad. There's one thing we can be sure of, at least!"

You look at her expectantly, unable to formulate a guess.

"That boy loves you!"

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With only a few days left before filming, you had begun to make the final preparations before moving to Atlanta.

It's a late night, one laden with anxiety and nervous jitters, and the several shots of whiskey you had just taken do little to keep the walls from closing in.

Although, perhaps, it is better if they do. If they imprison you, even just for tonight, to keep you from whatever it is you plan to do.

It's for the best. I have to do this. I'm doing this for him, you keep telling yourself. You keep repeating the lies, letting them bounce relentlessly in the walls of your mind, until you fool yourself into thinking them to be true.

You had met with Donna a few days prior, and the whole situation was made clear to you. You didn't know for certain when the decision formed in your mind, but it's there, as real as the love you feel for Ewan.

The love you will have to bury.

He picks you up in his rental Rover, after you told him that you wanted to go for a drive. But you ask him to park his car behind the private apartment building where you're staying.

The car grinds to a halt, like a signal for you to get it over with. There is no going back now.

"Ewan... I - " You can't push the words out, more so when he reaches for your hands and squeezes. He looks at you with those eyes, expecting anything but what you're about to say.

"I'm sorry," you try again, and your voice breaks. His face slowly drops, the mood instantly changed, but the worse is yet to come.

"What are you sorry for, darling?" He rubs his thumb along your cheekbone, the sensation willing you to just abandon your plan completely. To abandon the lie.

"Whatever happens..." Just get it over with. "...I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. We are friends first, aren't we?" Peel the bandaid. Rip it off. Let it bleed.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," he says.

You sound robotic, emotionless. But one wrong turn and the floodgates may break. There's a lump in your throat and you push it down. Reminding yourself to act - use your fucking acting skills if you actually have any. Now's the time. "We can't be together, Ewan."

There it is, sounding itself into existence, ruining the love you have in front of you.

His hand drops, as if he recoils back into himself. Away from you. It's cruel, but you know you will have to do more damage. You have to make it stick. This becomes clear when he says, "No", with conviction. "No, darling," he repeats. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Ewan - "

"You're not being funny, darling." He tilts his head, testing you, giving you the chance to retract your words and start laughing at your twisted joke. Darling comes out a mockery, something to say out of spite.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back in the driver's seat. "I don't... I don't accept this." He looks straight ahead, his lips pursed and jaw taut. "Fucking... why ?"

"I just... don't think it's going to work out."

"Bullshit."

Your words come out rushed, "You should take that role. I don't want you to hold back just for me. This could be something really great for you, Ewan. This could be it! Most actors pray for an opportunity like that to come along and I wouldn't want you to - "

"That's the reason?"

" - refuse it because of me. So we should - "

"Stop."

" - end this."

Silence. Not a single sound in the near-empty parking lot. No sirens in the distance, no pedestrian chatter. Just slow, heavy breathing in this rental car, both of you looking out the windshield. It feels stuffy all of a sudden, and not in the heated way when your limbs entwined in a jumble in the backseat a mere week ago.

"Please. I... I don't want to end this," he pleads. His knuckles are bone white, harshly gripping both sides of the steering wheel in an attempt to anchor himself. He shakes his head, and with some sense of hope, he says, "I don't care about that role. Okay? It's not the end of the world if I don't accept it. Have some faith in me, darling. I'll make it work. Surely there are plenty of other things down the line."

"Ewan," you whisper. You knew he would say this, which is why you prepared something worse. If that were even possible. You suck on your teeth, pulling on whatever poison you keep hidden away. You sigh and look away, a gesture that lets him know nothing will change your mind. "This fucking PR relationship business... it gets to you, you know? We don't know any better. I for one never expected to feel this way about - "

"About?" he finally turns to shoot you a look of betrayal, the pain in his eyes clear as day.

"I might have feelings for Jacob," you lie, "or I might not, I don't know. But there's something there, and I... I can't let this - us - go on while I'm conflicted about everything. It wouldn't be right."

Nothing about this is right.

But you go on, "I'll be off filming, with him, for a couple of months. And it's only going to make everything more confusing, and it wouldn't be fair to you, I know that - "

"I love you."

It's the first time he ever utters those three words, completely and without any doubt. He says them, despite everything you said before. And he means it.

A tear falls down your cheek, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep the rest at bay.

"I'm sorry," you look at him, in finality, and you want nothing more than to passionately kiss him hard on the mouth, to hold on to him tight and plead for him not to let you go. With your quivering form, you amble out of the car. Every step worsens the weight of what just transpired. His side of the car opens, and he calls for you, but you can't bear to look back.

He catches up to you, breathless and with a wild look in his face. His blue eyes swell with tears, but his brows are scrunched down as if he isn't bothered by them.

"I want you to look me right in the eye and tell me we don't matter. I want you to tell me you don't love me," he says, and it's the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. He searches your eyes for something, anything to hold on to. Part of him is still desperate enough to grasp at straws, on the hope that you will change your mind.

But the other hardened part, has become angry. Indignant. Because how could you do this to him? The only girl he has ever loved. So he needs to hear it from you, clearly. He needs you to drive the final nail on the coffin.

"I do love you," you croak, and you do nothing to stop your tears from flowing freely.

"Darling..."

"But I can't be with you," you turn away, one last time. "Goodbye, Ewan."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Some time ago, during the meeting in New York...

The lush office was laden with expensive wooden furniture, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.

The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.

After all, they were going to help each other out a lot...

(to be continued)

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy

Update! Read the second bonus chapter here ~

💌 next chapter

HOW DARE YOU, reader. How dare you.

The gif above paints a clear picture of Ewan's heart breaking in the car 🥲 just in case you guys needed a visual aid 🥲🥲

Next chapter - the meeting in New York, the reader's conversation with Donna, and.... we see them move on from each other (?) You know these bloody actors, one relationship in the first half of the year and then another right after...

Feel free to come for me in the comments <3 it was the most heartfelt chapter, after all. Also, let me know what yous want the bonus chapter to be about!

[moonstruckme]

Omg Mae now that I’ve been taken by the throat by Sirius, could you write something about him reacting to his gf getting her belly button pierced, please? I did mine yesterday and truthfully, I’ve forgotten I’ve got it done cos it doesn’t hurt or ache or anything😭

Ahh Fawn that's so cute!! I'm glad it's gone so easily, thanks for requesting my love <3

cw: new belly button piercing (no mention of the piercing process)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 423 words

However giddy you are as you exit the piercing studio, you’ve got nothing on Sirius. Your boyfriend is all but skipping alongside you, but sideways so he gets to keep his eyes on your stomach and you get to worry about him smacking into a pole. 

“Fuck,” he groans, not for the first time. “It looks so fucking good.” 

You’re finding it impossible to quell your smile. It’s starting to make your cheeks hurt. “I really like it,” you agree. 

“You should, baby.” Sirius has to drag his gaze forcibly up from your abdomen, but his grin only widens when he meets your eyes. “You really wanted this, and it looks killer. You’re making me want one of my own.” 

Your mouth pops open. “Oh, that could be fun! I’m sure it’d look so good on you.” 

“Probably.” Sirius shrugs smugly, opening your car door for you. “But let’s wait and see how yours heals up first. I’ll let you be my little guinea pig.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

You twist to reach into the backseat, grabbing the sweatshirt you’d stashed back there before going into your appointment. When Sirius gets in and sees you pulling it on over your sports bra, he freezes. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

You stop with the hem of the sweatshirt just above your stomach. “Um, getting dressed?” 

Sirius tsks, reaching over to try and tug your sweatshirt off your head. You hold fast. “You’re not supposed to be covering it, you know that,” he chides. “Don’t be stubborn.” 

“They said it’d be fine if I wore loose clothing.” 

“I meant for me.” 

You laugh, and your boyfriend’s stern facade almost breaks, the tiniest twitching of his lips. “Sirius, I can’t go shirtless forever.” 

“Don’t see why not.” 

“I’ll get cold! I’m already cold.” 

Sirius softens. “Aw, you should’a said, lovebug.” He leans across the console, giving you a lewd, scorching kiss. In your distraction, he rips your sweatshirt the rest of the way off. “I can always keep you warm,” he says with a pat to your cheek. 

You huff, both incredulous and amused. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“Don’t think you’re going to derail me with big words,” he teases. He sets a hand on either side of your waist, swooping down to press a kiss just above your new piercing. Before you can complain, he’s back at your lips again. This kiss is sweeter, Sirius’ mouth firm but gentle on yours. “I’ll make sure you get warmed up, sweetheart. Just let me get us home first.” 

[artsninspo]

"CHEERS 🥂 "- RIO X READER

Summary: Rio's planned date night. Finally, you get a front row seat to who he is and a taste of what he's capable of. This one's steamy 🌶️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Black Reader

Word-Count: 2.5K

« previous part

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

Rio’s been applying pressure. A quality you enjoy in a man. He’s been a great communicator, texting and FaceTiming you when he’s free for the past four days. His cool demeanour is never ending. Neither are the lazy promises about what’s awaiting you the next time you see him in person. After that kiss you know it’ll be good, straight to the point, signed, sealed, delivered - sincerely Rio. In the past few days you’ve come to appreciate him. There were no forever promises snapping you out of the thrill of the here and now with him.

8:30 Sharp. Don’t play with me either baby girl. 

-Rio 

 The way he’s asserted himself leaves little room for anyone else to be entertained. He’s a handful. It’s the last message he’s sent you hours ago now. Clad in your robe you turn to face your closet. Your hair and make up is what it is already. Now onto the conundrum of what to wear? Did it really even matter? Swallowing you walk from the nudes to the colourful section of the closet. Pausing you shake your head with a finger to your lips turning around to the blacks. You don’t want to clash with him, you want to blend in to his low-key air. You don’t want to do too much at all. You skim over dresses better suited for wow factor and settle on one that will do the trick. Accessories are easy and you choose simple ones that flatter your dress. With a final turn you look yourself over. It gives calm cool and collected, simple, not too fussy. Checking your watch you see you have thirty minutes until Rio arrives. You ensure your necessities are in your purse before spraying perfume.

The thrumming in your chest is a pleasant reminder of wants to come. You don’t remember a time outside of adolescence where someone had this kind of effect on you. Only this time you aren’t sneaking out of the house, you’re ignoring your brothers warnings. Deciding against games or grand entrances you head down to the lobby to be on time and step out five minutes early to see Rio in the parking lot of your condo leaning against his G-Wagon giving his phone his undivided attention. You're halfway to him when he senses you. You smile first allowing his raised brows and caution to settle into a pleased smile.

“Who were we texting?” You ask making him chuckle. His eyes drink you in making their way up slowly before he looks displeased. His jaw settles and when his eyes meet yours again he looks angry.

“Don’t disrespect me with this simple shit. I know you have way better up there” he comments acutely. There’s little to be said about his choice of clothing, nor are you his personal barbie.

“Didn’t think it mattered when you’re just going to take it off me?” You shrug leaning against his car to match his nonchalance. His frustration fades quickly and Rio doesn’t know exactly what to do with you. He tries his best not to smile as you snicker. He gets the door helping you in. When he gets in he reaches in the glove box and takes out a jewelry bag handing it to you.

“Instead of flowers” he says. You open it to see a pretty tennis bracelet. It’s definitely a first.

“Much better than flowers, a consolation for your asshole remark just now” you tell him holding out your wrist. He takes the bracelet putting it on and you admire the shine.

“You not going to accuse me of buying you fake diamonds? No smart remark?” He asks pulling off.

“It’s no fun when you expect it” you shrug leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks”

Rio turns reaching for your chin he takes it between his thumb and index finger to kiss you properly, claiming you as his for the moment. “You’re welcome” he says having given you two reasons to smile tonight..

Your dinner is on the water, just the two of you on a nice boat sailing around the cities skyline at night. Each of the dinner courses are delicious and conversation with Rio is easy so long as the conversations float over the personal. He keeps his guard up setting a clear boundary you're comfortable respecting. He gives you his jacket when you shiver playing the role of a gentleman well. You feel none of the first date jitters or dread, it’s like you’ve known Rio for some time. He’s meticulous in having things perfect for you. You don’t get the sense he’s showing off but more like he’s a stickler for order and satisfaction which bodes well for you later. Away from the dinner table and rnow outside on the deck you pour two shots of tequila.

“Truth or drink?” You say raising the glass and taking a shot for good measure. Rio throws one back nodding - ready for whatever. He opens the bottle pouring out another two shots.

“When’s the last time a man made you cum?” He asks being the forward asshole he is.

“Awhile” you respond evasively.

“A few months or a few years?” He asks.

“Months, now I get two questions” you tell him.

“Go on baby-girl” he says like he’s talking you through it leaving you to blush because he is hell.

“Why doesn’t my brother like you?” you ask and he grimaces; it’s a surprise. In Rio’s mind there are too many reasons to name. Reasons that’ll have you off the boat and ironing his calls.

“That’s between us, nothing to do with you” he responds taking a sip.

“If the roles were reversed would you want your sister sitting where I am?” You ask and Rio smiles, you know the answer before it leaves his lips.

“No” he confirms. “What to you like most about me?” Rio asks and it’s a surprise to you. His confidence makes the question seem a little out of place. Racking through your brain you try to narrow it down. There are more physically attractive guys, taller guys, richer guys, better dressed guys… Losing yourself in your thoughts you look back at him looking him over.

“I don’t know, that you have yourself together and you’re not afraid to put in work.” you shrug surprising him.

“What do you do for fun, hobby wise?” You ask.

“You don’t want to know what I like about you?” Rio asks.

“No” you tell him outright and he laughs.

“Boxing, helps me put the stress away” he responds and you feel the boats engines stop. Turning you realize you’re back at the dock and turn to find Rio watching you intently.

“Don’t kill the fun now by falling in love” you tease getting your bag.

“You’d fall first baby-girl” he taunts smoothly.

“Not likely” you comment heading off of the boat.

“Not likely?” he chuckles like it’s a first. “Keep playing with me.”

“Or what? I’ll probably like whatever punishment you can think of,” you shrug being forward turning back you see a blush on his cheeks as he smiles. You stop walking to let him catch up and find him chuckling a little like he’s broken character.

“Most likely, if I’m nice” Rio says into your ear as he holds you from behind. Chuckling you allow him to lead the way forward to his car. His cologne is perfect, the entire night has been perfect.

“Don’t call me unless you’re being nice” you respond.

“Mhm?” Rio raises a brow as he gets in.

“I thought you might like me being mean?”

“No, I don’t intend to underestimate what that means. Not my kind of surprise” you shrug looking over at him and his smile turns into contemplation. There you were right again. He’d passed curiosity, the cat and mouse was over and now he was considering your words a valid warning. Having a son and family were enough of a liability in his work. Things with you could get complicated especially with his involvement with Ruby and Stan. The pussy will be good; that Rio is for certain but now’s not the time he needs to be spending wide open chasing his next hit or the next thrill. He already knows you don’t know how to behave, taming you won’t be as fun as coming in and shutting shit down every time. For now there was a very clear scheduling conflict as well as ethical concerns.

Besides, Rio can’t quite decide your type of crazy yet. One round won’t suffice and after a few … would you slash his tires for his involvement with Stan and Ruby? Would you ignore him or worse? He could see the promise of mutually assured devastation in your eyes should you have to go head to head.

“Second thoughts, wow. Didn’t think Mr. Christopher would bitch out first” you taunt.

Fuck it

Rio mutters leaning over to kiss you. It’s not what you expect. The switch from contemplative to sensual heats your body in an instant. Unbridled passion, no time for logic.

Its on.

You can feel the seat going back and steady Rio as he maneuvers the seat flat not letting up. His tongue spelling promise of his other talents. Better than in the bathroom. You feel your body relaxing into it, the sensations rushing to your core as it readies itself in anticipation of pleasure. His hands run featherlight touches up your legs before lifting them to wrap around his torso.

It’s a first, sex in a car.

The thought of it flushes you sending goosebumps to cover your flesh. You feel pliable under his touch as he takes the lead. “Quiet now huh?” His voice is low as he peppers kisses on your neck. Before you can speak you feel him pressing into you and a moan of pleasure is your response. “Doesn’t feel like you’re the whore you pretend to be” he whispers enjoying the grip on his fingers.

“Shut up” you moan before your eyes close he comes in for another kiss that is messier an more frenzied. The nights foreplay has come to an end. Honestly there had been other plans but there was no way either of you were doing anything other than getting what you came for. His size is impressive and leaves you reeling to catch your breath as he uses technique that tells he’s no novice. He hits all of the right spots leaving you a pillow princess as he gives and takes until you're both sated and breathing hard. He slides off the condom leaning back and you smile seeing the fogged glasses until flashing lights snap you out of the fantasy. A knock Rio’s glass startles the both of you as a figure peers in. Instinct makes Rio shield your indisposed body from view. It’s a frenzied rush to cover yourself and Rio manages to put his dick away.

The cop demands you to get out of the car and you both do. Rio makes no effort to hurry, his aura reeks disgust and impatience. So much so that there’s no charming your way out of a seriously tacky potential charge. You rage silently as you’re cuffed and placed in the back of the cop car with Christopher.

“Bonnie and Clyde huh?” Rio whispers earning him an elbow. Rio chuckles not understanding the gravity the situation or your embarrassment.  “Relax, love I have a few more rounds in me” he continues ready for more as you seethe by his side. The precinct is lit in tacky fluorescent lighting that is jarring on the eyes after a night of warm romantic hues. All eyes are on you and so is the chatter. Your stomach falls in your ass the moment you realize Stan was once one of them.

“Would you like your phone call or do we head outback and you take care of me like you did him?” A portly cop propositions.

“Fuck did you just say?” Rio snaps finished with his call. Cops pop their heads up and the phone rings.

“Buddy don’t try to look tough for the girl” the pig says balling his fists.

“Stop!” A female cop says popping her head up holding a phone. “Stop now and let them go” she demands and there is some shuffling as the phone is passed around. Rio waits impatiently seemingly bored by the process until the cuffs are removed from his wrists and then your’s. The look he gives the dirty cop makes you nervous for the mans well being as he takes your hand walking you out. You stop now feeling the gravity of it. A man who can fuck like him and stay that cool under pressure is dangerous. A man cops tread lightly with is something else entirely. The big leagues, very major. Looking up at him you curse yourself knowing the date and any romance between you is done. For the first time your brothers protective instinct really was trying to shield you from serious trouble. The part of your brain that loves a thrill is ready to fight against it but you stand firm. Instead of making a scene you re enter the car once the two of you are returned to the marina with profuse apologies. Reveries of how he felt wash over you, the feeling of being kissed and the fresh memories dance around your mind. You don’t have to ask - Rio drives you home and parks in your parking lot.

This time the silence between you both is thick once the engine shuts off. Its like all the progress and familiarity has been washed away in spite of you still being able to feel the effects of him on your body.

“I’m sorry, I planned to take you to my place. Everything will be wiped your record and reputation will be fine” he says speaking first. Everything about him screamed he wasn’t fond of apologies. Turning you see his eyes are sincere and you swallow letting your seatbelt loose.

“Rio...”

“Don’t say it” he smiles looking down into his hands. “Don’t say it baby girl” he sighs holding your gaze. You want to invite him up and ride him till your frustration fades. You want rounds two three and four if your bodies can take it but for once your head is resigned against the thrill.

“I had fun” you admit earning a disappointed nod from Rio. He gets out of his car with you and heads into the trunk and walks towards you with a large bottle of Ace of Spades champagne.

“Cheers” he says bidding you goodbye with Champagne what was supposed to kick off the fun in his hand. Looking up at him as the gold bottle sparkles along with the newly gifted bracelet in the light you look at the forbidden fruits contemplating a few more rounds or if you plan to kick the habit cold turkey.

“Cheers” you respond with a smile.

_________

Author's Note: Thank you for all your support and patience on this series. It means more than you know. I love writing for character I feel like we should have got more of. Hope you enjoyed, leave a comment, like and reblog to let me know 💖

[okasuka]

Damian wayne x reader - breakfast!

A Night in Wayne Manor

The drive back to Wayne Manor was quiet but charged with unspoken tension. Y/N could feel Damian’s hand brushing hers on the center console, his occasional glances in her direction enough to make her cheeks warm. By the time they arrived, her pulse was racing, and she wondered if he felt the same.

As the two of them entered the grand manor, the imposing silence of the house seemed to amplify the sound of their footsteps on the marble floor. The rest of the family appeared to be elsewhere, leaving them blissfully alone.

“Want to come up?” Damian asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “To your room?”

He gave her a pointed look. “Unless you’d rather chat with Alfred about proper table settings.”

She smirked, following him up the sweeping staircase. “I’ll take my chances with you.”

Damian led her to his room—a surprisingly minimalist space, considering the grandeur of the rest of the manor. The walls were painted a deep green, accented with black furniture and shelves filled with books, weapons, and the occasional keepsake. A large window overlooked the estate grounds, and a simple bed with crisp black sheets dominated the room.

Y/N took a moment to take it all in before turning to Damian, who had already removed his jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He looked at her expectantly, his gaze softening.

“You can sit, you know,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

She nodded, perching on the edge of the mattress. “So… nice place. Very… you.”

Damian smirked, sitting beside her. “Thanks. I try.”

The room fell quiet again, the weight of the moment settling over them. Y/N fiddled with the hem of her shirt, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Y/N,” Damian said, his voice softer now.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull back if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened.

Damian shifted closer, one hand finding her waist while the other cradled the back of her head. Y/N’s hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. The kiss grew more urgent, their breaths mingling as the world outside the room faded away.

He pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her as their kisses became more fervent. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, and she couldn’t help but smile against his lips as he let out a quiet, involuntary sigh.

“Damian,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” he replied, his lips moving to her jaw, trailing soft, deliberate kisses down to her neck.

“This is… new,” she managed, her mind spinning.

“Is this okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look at her.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah. It’s just… you’re full of surprises, Wayne.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You have no idea.”

The two of them continued for what felt like hours, their movements a careful balance of exploration and restraint. Damian’s hands never strayed too far, and Y/N felt safe in the cocoon of his warmth. Eventually, though, they pulled apart, both of them breathless and smiling.

“We should probably stop,” Damian said, though his tone was reluctant.

Y/N nodded, leaning her forehead against his. “Yeah. Before Dick shows up again.”

Damian groaned. “Don’t even joke about that.”

She laughed, sliding off his lap and settling back onto the bed beside him. They stayed like that for a while, their hands entwined as they talked quietly about everything and nothing, the tension between them replaced by a comfortable intimacy.

The Morning After

The smell of coffee and fresh pastries drifted through the air as Y/N made her way down to the manor’s dining room the next morning. She’d woken up in the guest room Damian had insisted she use, her heart still fluttering from the previous night.

As she entered the room, she was greeted by the sight of the entire Bat-family seated around the table. Alfred was setting down a tray of food, while Bruce sipped his coffee, reading the morning paper. Dick and Jason were bickering over a stack of pancakes, their voices carrying across the room.

Damian was already seated, his usual stoic expression softening as he glanced up and saw her.

“Morning,” Y/N said, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Alfred said warmly. “I trust you slept well?”

“Very well, thank you,” she replied, smiling at the older man.

Jason leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, look who’s finally joined us. Have a good night, Y/N?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat as she caught the knowing look in Jason’s eyes. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

Dick chimed in, his grin matching Jason’s. “And how’s our little Damian this morning? Feeling… relaxed?”

Damian shot them both a warning glare. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Dick asked innocently. “I’m just making conversation.”

“Sure you are,” Damian muttered, stabbing a piece of fruit with unnecessary force.

Bruce lowered his newspaper, glancing between his sons with a raised eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” Damian said quickly.

“Yes,” Jason and Dick said in unison, their grins widening.

“Boys,” Alfred interrupted, his tone firm but amused. “Perhaps we should let Master Damian and Miss Y/N enjoy their breakfast in peace.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jason quipped, grabbing another pancake.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, despite her embarrassment. “I see teasing runs in the family.”

“You have no idea,” Damian muttered, earning a round of laughter from the table.

The rest of the meal passed with a mix of playful banter and light conversation. Y/N found herself feeling surprisingly at ease, even as Dick and Jason continued to throw the occasional teasing comment her way.

As they finished eating, Dick leaned across the table, a sly smile on his face. “So, Y/N, any plans for today? Or are you and Damian going to… hang out?”

Damian groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Grayson—”

“What?” Dick said, feigning innocence. “I’m just asking.”

Jason chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not gonna let him live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Dick said, grinning.

Bruce sighed, setting down his coffee. “And this is why I don’t invite people over for breakfast.”

Y/N laughed, her heart light as she glanced at Damian. Despite the teasing, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the chaotic warmth of the Wayne family—and for the boy beside her, who made it all worthwhile.

A Morning Full of Blushes

After breakfast, the Wayne family dispersed—Jason disappearing to the garage, Dick heading to the training room, and Bruce retreating to his study. Damian and Y/N lingered in the dining room, savoring the rare moment of quiet.

Y/N glanced at Damian, her cheeks still warm from the teasing she’d endured. “Is it always like this here?”

Damian sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Unfortunately, yes. Grayson and Todd have made it their life’s mission to annoy me.”

“Seems like they enjoy it,” she teased, her lips twitching into a smile.

“They do,” Damian said, his tone deadpan. “It’s infuriating.”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “I think it’s kind of sweet. In their own weird way, they’re just looking out for you.”

Damian glanced down at her hand, the corners of his mouth softening. “They have a strange way of showing it.”

The moment stretched between them, warm and quiet. Y/N realized her hand was still on his arm and quickly pulled it back, her cheeks heating.

“I—uh, sorry,” she stammered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be,” Damian said, his voice quieter now. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she looked up at him. “Damian?”

“I meant what I said last night,” he said, his green eyes steady on hers. “Being with you… it’s new for me. But it feels right.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, her fingers curling around his. “It feels right for me too.”

They sat like that for a while, their hands intertwined, before Damian finally stood. “Come on,” he said, tugging her to her feet. “I want to show you something.”

The Manor Grounds

Damian led her outside to the expansive grounds of Wayne Manor. The morning sun cast a golden glow over the manicured gardens and rolling hills, the air crisp and fresh.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N said, her gaze sweeping over the landscape.

“It’s peaceful,” Damian said, his voice quieter now. “I come out here when I need to think.”

They walked side by side along a gravel path, the silence between them comfortable. Damian’s hand brushed against hers as they walked, and after a moment of hesitation, he laced his fingers with hers.

Y/N glanced up at him, her cheeks warm. “You’re full of surprises today.”

Damian smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You bring it out of me.”

They reached a small gazebo nestled among the trees, and Damian led her inside. He leaned against one of the wooden pillars, watching as Y/N explored the space.

“This is amazing,” she said, running her fingers along the intricate carvings on the railing.

“It’s one of the few places in the manor that feels… personal,” Damian admitted.

Y/N turned to face him, her expression softening. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

He shrugged, but there was a hint of color in his cheeks. “I wanted you to see it.”

She stepped closer, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. “Damian… thank you. For everything.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Y/N smiled, and before she could overthink it, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Damian stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then his arms came around her, holding her close.

The warmth of his embrace was steadying, and Y/N felt herself relax against him. “You’re not as scary as you pretend to be,” she teased, her voice muffled against his chest.

“And you’re braver than you let on,” he replied, his voice soft.

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them wanting to pull away. When they finally did, Damian’s cheeks were faintly pink, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“What?” he asked, his tone defensive.

“Nothing,” she said, biting back a laugh. “You’re just cute when you’re flustered.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re impossible.”

Back Inside the Manor

Later that day, the two of them found themselves in the manor’s massive library. Y/N was browsing the shelves, marveling at the sheer number of books, while Damian sat in one of the armchairs, watching her with an amused expression.

“You’re staring,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Am I not allowed to admire my girlfriend?” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

The word made Y/N pause, her cheeks warming. She turned to face him, clutching the book in her hands. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Damian arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” she said quickly, her heart racing. “I just… wasn’t expecting you to say it.”

He stood, walking over to her with an easy confidence that made her stomach flip. “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said, his voice low.

Y/N swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to his lips. “Damian…”

Before she could finish, he leaned down and kissed her, his hands resting gently on her waist. It was a soft, lingering kiss, and when he pulled back, Y/N felt like the ground had shifted beneath her.

“You’re full of surprises today,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Get used to it,” he replied, smirking.

Evening Teasing

As the day wound down, Y/N and Damian found themselves back in the dining room for dinner. The rest of the Bat-family joined them, and the teasing picked up right where it had left off that morning.

“So,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. “How was your little tour of the grounds, Y/N?”

“Beautiful,” Y/N said, smiling despite the heat rising in her cheeks.

“I bet,” Dick said, winking at Damian. “Did you show her the gazebo?”

Damian shot him a glare. “Stay out of it, Grayson.”

“Oh, come on,” Dick said, laughing. “It’s cute!”

Bruce cleared his throat, glancing at Damian. “As long as you’re being respectful—”

“Of course I am,” Damian said quickly, his ears turning red.

“Relax, kid,” Jason said, smirking. “We’re just messing with you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dick said. “I’m genuinely interested in the romance blossoming before our very eyes.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, despite her embarrassment. She glanced at Damian, who looked like he was about to throttle both of his brothers.

“Don’t worry,” she said, placing a hand on his arm.

A Sparring Session in the Training Room

After dinner, Damian suggested they head to the training room—a vast space equipped with every piece of workout and combat gear imaginable.

Y/N followed him, her curiosity piqued. “Do you really train here every day?”

“Most days,” Damian said, holding the door open for her. “If you’re going to be around the Wayne family, you should probably know how to throw a punch.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You do remember I punched out that girl on my first day at Gotham Academy, right?”

He smirked. “True. But I doubt she knew how to counter it. I won’t go easy on you.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” she teased, stepping into the room.

Damian’s eyes gleamed. “Absolutely.”

Y/N glanced around, taking in the padded mats, punching bags, and an assortment of weapons lining the walls. She stretched her arms and adjusted her stance. “All right, Wayne. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Damian pulled off his hoodie, revealing his toned arms and the black training gear underneath. Y/N’s cheeks warmed, but she quickly shook it off, focusing on the task at hand.

He stepped onto the mat, motioning for her to join him. “We’ll start with basic strikes. Come at me.”

Y/N squared her shoulders, throwing a quick jab toward his midsection. Damian dodged easily, his movements fluid and precise.

“Too slow,” he said, smirking.

She huffed, trying again. This time, she added a feint before aiming for his shoulder, but Damian blocked her effortlessly.

“Better,” he admitted, his tone begrudging.

Y/N grinned, a spark of determination lighting in her eyes. “You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

They continued sparring, the room filling with the sound of their movements and the occasional sharp exhale. Y/N managed to land a few hits, but Damian was clearly holding back, his grin growing wider every time he countered one of her moves.

Finally, she saw her opening. Damian shifted his weight slightly to the left, leaving his side exposed. Y/N lunged forward, catching him off guard as she grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back.

“Got you!” she exclaimed triumphantly, her face inches from his.

Damian’s eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Not bad,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Y/N suddenly realized how close they were, her breath hitching as their eyes met. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

But then Damian smirked, his confidence returning. “You let your guard down.”

Before Y/N could react, Damian shifted his weight, trying to reverse their positions. However, his foot slipped on the mat, and they both went tumbling to the ground.

Y/N landed flat on her back, and Damian fell on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her head. Her glasses flew off, sliding across the mat.

“Ow,” she muttered, her cheeks flaming as she realized the position they were in.

Damian’s face was just inches from hers, his green eyes wide and his breath warm against her skin. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, her heart pounding.

Neither of them moved. The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them, their faces so close that Y/N could count the faint freckles dusting Damian’s cheeks.

“Damian,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze flicking to her lips.

“I think you’re blushing.”

He let out a quiet laugh, his own cheeks tinged pink. “So are you.”

Y/N bit her lip, her eyes searching his. “Are you going to kiss me or just keep staring?”

Damian’s breath caught, but then he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was tentative at first, but as Y/N’s hands slid up to his shoulders, it deepened.

The kiss was warm and electrifying, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine. She could feel Damian’s heart racing in sync with her own as they lost themselves in the moment.

Finally, they pulled apart, both of them breathless and blushing furiously.

“Well,” Damian said, his voice slightly hoarse. “That wasn’t part of the training session.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks still warm. “I think I preferred it to getting thrown on the mat.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not bad, though. For a rookie.”

“Rookie?” she exclaimed, swatting his arm playfully. “I had you pinned!”

“Briefly,” he countered, his tone teasing.

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting up and looking around. “Great. Now I can’t see anything.”

Damian followed her gaze, spotting her glasses on the other side of the mat. He retrieved them and handed them back to her, his expression soft.

“Thanks,” she said, sliding them on.

He nodded, his fingers brushing hers as he let go. “Anytime.”

Cooling Down

After the sparring session, the two of them sat on the edge of the mat, sipping water and catching their breath.

“So,” Y/N said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Was that kiss… a one-time thing, or…?”

Damian looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he smirked. “Do you want it to be?”

Her cheeks turned red. “No. I mean, if you don’t—”

“I don’t,” he said quickly, his voice firm.

Y/N smiled, a warm feeling blooming in her chest. “Good.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the tension between them replaced by a quiet sense of understanding.

“You know,” Damian said, breaking the silence. “You’re the first person who’s ever managed to pin me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, his tone serious. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

She laughed, leaning her shoulder against his. “Too late.”

The Next Morning

The following morning, Y/N woke up feeling sore but happy. She replayed the events of the previous night in her mind, a smile tugging at her lips as she remembered the kiss.

After getting dressed, she made her way down to the dining room, where the rest of the family was already gathered.

“Morning, Y/N!” Dick called, grinning at her as she entered. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing at Damian, who was already seated.

Jason smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Did you and Damian have another training session last night?”

Y/N’s cheeks turned red as she quickly took a seat. “Maybe.”

Dick’s grin widened. “You know, you’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. Should we be worried?”

“Worried about what?” Damian asked, his tone clipped.

“Worried that you’re finally going soft,” Jason teased.

Damian glared at him. “I’ll show you soft, Todd.”

“Relax, Damian,” Y/N said, placing a hand on his arm. “They’re just teasing.”

Bruce cleared his throat, glancing between his sons. “As long as you’re both focused on your responsibilities, I don’t see an issue.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Y/N said, smiling.

Dick leaned closer, his grin mischievous. “So, Y/N, how was the gazebo?”

Y/N choked on her coffee, while Damian shot him a murderous glare.

Jason laughed, slapping the table. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Despite the teasing, Y/N felt a warmth in her chest as she glanced at Damian. He met her gaze, his expression softening.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she belonged.

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine: Part Two

find part one here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, smut and more smut. unprotected p in v sex, oral m receiving, some almost getting caught tropes (kinda) and just jax having his way with you

[authors note]: so I wasn’t planning on making this a two part series but here we are! this is basically just pure smut but I owed it to you guys after that cliffhanger. thank you again to THAT anon for the fantasy that inspired this second part! it was too good not to write.

Your hands dug into the front of his leather cutte, weaving your fingers in between the cotton of his shirt. The only sound was the roaring of the bike beneath you, and the wind as it thrashed your hair into chaos against your helmet. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at this point you didn’t care. You squeezed your arms as they wrapped snug around him, tightening as he sped faster into the unknown.

Chibs followed just behind. They had been on their way to a Mayan warehouse earlier that night, before Jax decided to make a detour when he saw your car parked at the bar. When it was clear they had to go, you had begged Jax to bring you along. To your surprise, you had somehow convinced him. His dick was clouding his judgement, but you were both desperate to find an end to what you had started in the backseat of your car.

They parked the bikes in the back of a desolate warehouse, alongside a large empty truck. The building was fenced in with metal chain links and surrounded by broken security lights. From what you could see through the darkness, it was completely deserted.

Jax approached Chib as he rocked the kickstand on his bike as you waited patiently alongside his.

“Bobby and Juice on their way to the Clubhouse?”

Chib’s placed his helmet on the bike, “aye. Everything according to plan.”

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

Chibs placed his hand on Jax’s chest, “ye sure about bringing her? Could be here awhile pal.”

He knew he was right, bringing you with them wasn’t the smartest decision Jax had made tonight. He lit a cigarette between his lips as he walked back to you, “Just a straight forward drop off, Chibs. Stash the shit and get in the truck.”

Jax pulled you into him by the waist as you fumbled to undo the clasp of your helmet. His mouth pressed firmly against you, kissing you intently as his hands held your face to his. He watched you for a brief moment under him, your eyes staring up at him as he held your lip between his teeth. He broke only to smile widely down at you as he spoke, “c’mon, I got an idea.”

“We’ll be inside.” he called out, collecting a black satchel from the back of his bike. Chibs didn’t respond, only chuckling to himself as he watched Jax lead you away. “Kids.”

He pulled you through the warehouse by hand, obviously familiar with the surroundings. The building was dimly lit by a single light that shined from the entrance, just enough that you could see your feet beneath you as you walked.

You didn’t ask questions, just followed as he weaved his way through a thick maze of tall empty shelving units. He gripped your hand tighter as he pulled you into a small room cordoned off in the back of the building, housing the now derelict security unit and remnants of old office supplies.

There was a large display window that overlooked the majority of the warehouse, which would’ve been used to watch the ongoings of the building when it was up and running.

“Wait here.”

You obeyed his order, sitting on an old computer console that towered from the floor. It was just large enough that you could sit with your legs bent alongside it, straddling it beneath you.

The distant light was too far to aid in your sight as you attempted to watch him through the display window. Jax disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing from the opposite end of the building.

It felt like he was gone for eternity as you sat in silence, waiting for his return.

Suddenly an external door into the office opened, making you jump, and Jax re-entered, this time empty handed as the satchel he carried in with him was gone. He locked the door behind him. He moved toward you, now standing with his waistline parallel to your face. He was looking out into the warehouse from the side of the display window. “Just gotta wait for the pick up and then we’re out of here.”

“How long will we be? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shouldn’t be long. Then I’m taking you home. We got unfinished buisness of our own, darlin’.”

Jax laid his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face upward to look at him. His thumb stroked your skin gently, as he peered down at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

“How ‘bout you just swallow my cock now to pass the time.”

You chuckled at his adavance, raising your eyebrows at the suggestion. “Here? What if someone comes in?”

Jax lowered himself down, forcing your head to turn on its side, as his lips pressed to your ear. He spoke slowly, unravelling you with every word. “Let them watch. I don’t give a shit. Your instructions earlier were very clear darlin’, you told me to take what’s mine. I’m going to take you, here and now. I’m going to have you where I want you, when I want you. You are mine to take, however the fuck I want.”

You nodded as he turned your face to his, your eyelids batting against your cheeks that were smushed beneath his hands. His thumb found entry between your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth wide for him. He smiled contently at how quickly you obeyed his silent demand. You held your tongue out, and he grasped at your jaw in response, turning your head side to side as he observed every inch of your face. “You are so fucking perfect. So fucking mine.”

You had never wanted him more than you did in this moment. You were prepared to beg and plead on your knees for his cock, you would do anything for it, and he knew it.

“Fill my mouth, Jax. Please.”

He leaned down to you as he unclamped the buckle to his belt, smirking against your lips as he placed them on yours.

He released his long length against your face, and you immediately took it into your hands. His head fell back as you stroked him intently, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You planted small, wet kisses against his shaft, as your hands caressed his erection. Once you’d kissed every inch, you took him into your mouth, forcing him in deeper as you pulled him in you by his unbuttoned jeans.

He groaned at the sensation of your wet tongue, circling his length before you choked at the fullness of him inside your mouth. There was nothing quite like gagging on Jax’s cock.

“Look at me when you take me”, he demanded. Your eyes trailed up to him as you swallowed his cock, drool dripping from your chin and down your neck. Moans escaped his gritted teeth and his hands entangled in your hair, collecting the strands into a ponytail behind your head. He tugged at the root to push you in closer, as he used your mouth over and over again.

“Get on the floor.”

You knew better than to question the order. You did exactly what he said, laying against the cold concrete floor that laid beneath you. He stroked his length as he stood above you, instructing you on every move to make.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.”

Once you were half naked on the floor, Jax lowered himself into you. His cock pressed against your waist, as he pulled down your jeans and panties.

“Spread your legs wide for me.”

Jax didn’t wait any longer. He encapsulated himself into your mound, opening your wet folds as he thrusted into you. A gasp escaped your throat as he entered, relief filtering through every inch of your core.

“Oh you’re still fucking soaked for me, babe.”

You couldn’t help but whine at the immediate pressure building between your thighs, desperately trying to hush your voice. It was near impossible to keep from screaming as the heat from your groin was burning to be released. You’d waited for what felt like forever since Jax had you in the same position in the backseat of your car, and the anticipation of being relieved was a feeling you revelled in. He grabbed your throat with his hand as you laid beneath him, your ass crushing repeatedly into the cold tile as he pounded into you.

“Remember what I told you earlier? While my face was covered in this perfect pussy?”

You couldn’t respond, let alone think of anything that happened earlier tonight. You groaned out as the length of his cock engulfed your insides, and hearing him talk this way was sending you over the edge. How the hell were you supposed to think?

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Can’t remember?”

“I can’t think straight- like t-this, Jax,” you admitted. You were staring into his eyes as he pounded into you, fighting the need for yours to roll in the back of your head.

“Let me help you.”

He sat you upright, his dick still embedded in your mound, as he lifted your legs, bending them against him. He pulled at your ass, bringing himself even further inside, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you. Your back was now arched against him, giving him full access to your clit.

“Fuck- not helping-“, you cried.

His hands travelled from your ass to your cunt, circling his fingers over the swollen nub, while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Jax- oh my go-“

He smiled as he watched you lose yourself in your climax, succumbing to his cock. His head fell back in pure bliss as he felt your orgasm squeezing him.

“I told you, you’re mine.” His cock pushed further into you as his hand tightening around your neck, the skin turning a shade of red at the force.

Your head nodded violently, “I’m yours-“ you somehow managed to muster out, your voice cracking under the pressure of your orgasm and his hand around your throat.

Just as Jax was going to unravel with you, you were interrupted by the sound of the main entrance door opening, followed by footsteps. “Did you hear that?”, you whispered.

Jax leant backward enough for him to peer over the display window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness to realise who the intruders were. It was Bobby and Juice.

“Is it Chibs? Do we need to go?”

Jax looked back down at you, sprawled half naked against the floor and completely, totally his. Seeing you this way, he couldn’t of cared who entered the warehouse, he was going to finish claiming you no matter who watched. He gleamed at the sight of your flushed pink cheeks and hair utterly strung awry, all the result of his doing. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His cock found your entrance again, sliding into your dripping mound as he bit back a groan. “You feel so fucking good- taking me so well-“

You tried desperately to suppress your scream, failing as a squeal slipped through your lips.

Jax quickly placed his hand over your mouth, and you were thankful for the aid in silencing your whimpers. He roamed over your body and face, watching as pleas left your eyes, begging in desperation for another release. His lips pulled into a devilish smirk as he lowered himself completely into you, forcing his cock to push even deeper into your mound.

You groaned into his hand, his hips finding a way to submerge even further into your core. Jax was enjoying every moment of this, watching as your composure expired around his cock, while he never wavered, just holding himself there within you.

“You gotta be quiet for me now, darlin’,” he murmured slowly into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded at his request, struggling to move from the weight of his body pressing against you. His hand tightened around your mouth as tears began to stream from your eyes, overwhelmed by the urge to stay silent against the extreme fullness you were enduring.

The footsteps grew closer, as Jax pushed deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You could hear Bobby lowly calling out, “Jax, where you at?”

He ignored his calls, focused entirely on you beneath him. Nothing else mattered to him but the way you felt wrapped around his cock.

He was relentless, repeatedly finding a new depth with each thrust into you. His hand stayed out against your mouth, and you bit at the skin to suppress the groans that couldn’t be muffled. He quickened his pace, and your fingers squeezed at the leather of his cutte as you found your final climax. Jax hunched his back, bringing his face to yours as he found his release with you, filling your aching cunt with his seed.

When he recovered from his end, he began to trail plentiful kisses from your chest, and up your neck. He paused at your jawline as he pressed a tight smile against your skin, nibbling at the flesh.

“You’re only mine.”

find my masterlist here

[revelboo]

Are you okay writing for tfp Knockout or Breakdown? Maybe they are either another (human) racer or heck even someone who works at the car wash who gives some of the best cars waxes, Knockout befriended. That or maybe they’re a mech experiment (mostly) human survivor that helped Breakdown escape MECH. Or literally whatever you see happening these where just some of my suggestions. The floor is yours if you’re okay writing for them? Thanks either way 😄

My Favorite Accident

Knockout x reader-race

• Huh. Of all the ways you might have imagined you’d die, death by a furious, alien pimp car wouldn’t have made the top ten. Or hundred. Fingers going white knuckled on the helmet in your hands, you feel curiously numb. Drag racing was dangerous and sooner or later, you’d push your luck past the point of no return. But this?

• When you’d managed to pass that stupidly gorgeous, red sports car for the third night in a row, you’d wanted to laugh your head off. Maybe dance a victory jig because your old, rusty Trans Am looked like an ad for tetanus and it’d still beaten all those other pretty, expensive cars. So yeah, when the candy apple red car had followed you and stayed right on your bumper after the race, you’d sucked it up and pulled over. Letting the guy follow you to your house wasn’t happening. If you were going to get screamed at, it was going to be on your terms.

• You grab your switchblade out of the center console and slide it into your back pocket in case wealthy sports car guy decided he could try and bully you out of your winnings. Hip cocked and arms folded across your chest, you wait for the guy to get out and yell- probably accuse you of cheating.

• That sound was something you’d never forget, almost a musical thing as metal shifted and rearranged. And grew to tower over you in the form of a sleek robot.

• An infuriated robot as it takes a thunderous step your way and your helmet hits the asphalt. More than anything, you want to run. The problem is your body isn’t on board. You can’t move at all as it crouches down. “Mind telling me how you beat me in that scrap heap?”

• Cold fury sparking through him, Knockout glares down at the human staring up at him. “Well?” He demands. “You cheated didn’t you?” Because there’s no way a human beat him in that… abomination. It’s not even a car, more a mobile scrap heap. And that just makes it so much worse.

• Huh. Indignation wins out over common sense. “I’m a better driver,” you say. Those strange black and red eyes narrow and you have the thought that you can duck, grab the helmet and sling it at the robot. Maybe buy yourself a whole thirty seconds before it stomps you to death.

• What you don’t expect is for it to throw up an arm in all too human exasperation. “Hardly. I’ve been driving long before you were even alive,” it says, walking past you to stalk around your car. “Do you have any idea how mortifying it is to lose to… this? What it does to my reputation?”

• You can breathe now that it’s not glaring down at you, because it’s popping the hood on your car and shaking its head in disgust. “That’s gotta hurt, huh?” You snark, wincing as it glowers at you over its shoulder with murderous intent.

• “We’re going again. Now.” Because he can’t stand it. And it’s been a long time since anyone’s given him a real challenge. A thrill of electric anticipation makes him smile when your uneasy expression smooths into a cocky sureness, because he knows you won’t just let him win- you’ll fight him tooth and nail for it. A kindred spirit.

Next

[hannahluvsbillie]

was it ever casual?

part 1

✮ pairing : billie eilish x reader

✮ cw: nothing too heavy, angst (kind of)

ᡣ𐭩 a/n: sorry for the wait!! my tumblr hasn’t been letting me post anything! but we’re here now and that’s all that matters. thank you sm for all the love on part one, it means everything to hear you like my writing 🥺🥺

the rain pitter patters on the window of billie’s car, it was pitch black with the exception of a few small streetlights in the empty parking lot.

it was damn near silent in the car, only the sounds of soft music playing were heard.

at least it was, until you got a notification.

you pick up your phone from the console, seeing a text from some random person you gave your number to at a party last week because he wouldn’t stop bugging you.

“hey, wanna meet up soon? still in la for the week.”

the text read.

billie’s eyes glance over at your phone, out of your peripheral vision you see her brows furrow at the message.

your eyes dart to billie, and you immediately put your phone down. not wanting her to see the message.

this just makes her brows furrow further, and her face contort a little.

“who’s that?” she asks, her voice stern. the hand that was once on your thigh moves back to her own, silently telling you she’s suspicious.

“don’t worry about it.” you say, glancing over at her and putting your phone under your thigh. you didn’t intent to mock her statement from the last meet up you had, but it just came out.

these past few times you’ve hung out with her, you’ve been noticing the abundance of notifications she gets while you’re together. you try to comfort yourself by saying it’s just her friends, or her family blowing up her phone. but you know, you know it’s other girls.

“im worried about it, who else is talking to my girl?” she states, the smallest hint of playfulness in her voice.

“my girl.” the nickname always seemed to find its way into her words while she was with you, but the once meaningful nickname that used to give you butterflies has lost meaning. how many other girls does she call “my girl” ?

you look away, you find yourself feeling annoyed at her words. she does the same shit to you, so why should she be mad about it?

“it’s not like we’re dating.” you say, glancing over at her only to see her brows raised at your comment. you were never this feisty with her, what did she do?

she moves her head just enough to look into your eyes, her brows still raised in surprise. “yeah, we aren’t. but i wanna know if my girl’s talking to someone else.” she says coldly.

your brows raise, matching her expression. you shake your head in disbelief, how could she be so dismissive?

“billie, you do the same fucking thing.” you say, your voice seems to have lost that soft, sweet, gentle tone it regularly has when you speak to billie.

“that’s- that’s different ma.” she says, feeling like she’d just been called out on her bullshit.

you shake your head once again, your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“how is that any different? they blow up your phone constantly and when i ask you about it you brush me off.” you say softly, turning your head to meet her gaze.

she rolls her eyes at your response, starting to get agitated with you.

“because you’re my girl y/n. no one else’s.” she says, her eyes shooting darts into yours.

that doesn’t sound very causal, but to hell with causal at this point.

“i wish i could say that about you billie.” you say, shooting her a glare.

“oh my god- baby. we’ve been through this a million times. they don’t mean anything to me.” she says, her voice starting to get more cold by the second. how could she just lie to you like that?

you turn to face her, you can’t hold back anymore.

“bullshit.” you say coldly, her eyebrows raise in response.

“if i meant anything to you i wouldn’t be sitting in your car at 1 in the morning- let alone letting you eat me out in your car, or only meeting with you in secluded places, or the fact you won’t text me back for a week. it’s like im only here when your bored.” you ramble, finally letting your feelings spill out. it felt nice to call her out, even though you knew she wouldn’t tell the truth.

“baby- y/n- you know damn well it’s not like that.” she says, looking at you with furrowed brows.

in all honesty, billie didn’t know you felt like that. so what she’d talk to other girls, you were still the one she saw the most.

“so what is it then?” you ask sharply, furrowing your brows at her. you had to swallow the lump that was forming in your throat.

she looks away, trying to think of a way to possibly answer that question.

“we’re just- a casual thing y/n, don’t act like it’s more then that because it’s not.” she says coldly, her response shooting daggers into your heart.

a moment of silence falls between billie and you, neither of you knew what to say, or what was the right thing to do.

but you knew one thing, you couldn’t keep doing this with her. if that’s how she really feels, then you two aren’t on the same page.

it’s not causal when you look at her like she hung the damn stars every time she speaks.

“just- take me home billie.” you say, looking into her eyes. you were so tired of begging for her to choose you. it’s all that you’ve done is beg for her attention this whole- situationship. or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it.

she scoffed in disbelief, shaking her head. her hand went down to the shift and put the car into drive.

“god damn it- fine.”

[g1rlken]

Inherently his

Rupert Campbell Black x gem!reader

Summary: domestic fluff #10 prompt list request

Word count: 4.2k+

Warnings: slight implications

Well polished burgundy car roof made a tapping sound against Rupert’s hands as he paced and sighed in the parking lot. Not frantically, not out of nerves, he never had those. Anticipation however was rather irritating. He didn’t realise when he caught that on from his wife, polar opposites. Ever anxious y/n’s unbothered lover. Most stuff rarely phased Rupert.

But when it regarded her, he couldn’t help it. Her wearies became his just the same way her joy lay in his. It was difficult to not adapt to her ways, especially on her big days. She was after a new job position, switching places in workspace and it was a big interview. He drove her to the place all calm and collected, full well confident in her capabilities. But as he awaited her return from the interview he couldn’t help but feel tense for her. She had wanted this for so long, despite the need of its financial aspect she didn’t have to work a day in our out of the house to sustain them in any way. But it wasn’t about that, he was a lover to an extremely passionate and determined woman. She would be crushed for days if it didn’t go her away after the time and energy she spent into this project. Regardless he quickly pushed that thought aside as his belief in her resurfaced more.

The sight of her walking out the building with her blazer and files in her hand and a bit far to make out her facial expression, he stiffened and paced closer himself. Reaching up to him she shrugged, with a heavy sigh as he searched for her eyes to meet his. “Apparently” she took a deep breath and paused for exaggerated effect, “I got it!” She exclaimed pivoting almost instantly and jumped right into his arms which he had opened for consolation either ways.

“Dear god” Rupert let out a deep chuckle as he could feel his heart beating in his ears, the false dread she built up replaced with immense happiness. “I knew it!” Kissing the top of her head he exclaimed, sweeping her off of her feet to spin her around. Deepening the embrace he held her impossibly close before putting her feet back to the ground with her giggles and squeals but didn’t exactly pull away. “My wonder girl didn’t I tell you!”

“Yes!” She giggled, heart warmed by his embrace and enthusiasm, mirroring his ear to ear smile. “I can’t believe it—I made it in the first round!”

“Well I for one most definitely can!” He brought her face closer to his, cupping her cheeks as he placed a passionate kiss on her lips. A hurried, teeth pressed, full of excitement movement of their lips crashing.

The surge of happiness within her was as it is skyrocketing, the kiss only highlighted it. “I couldn’t be more happier” she said breaking the kiss, “and thank you, for all that you put up with in the process I couldn’t have done it without-“

“I am about to kiss you to shut you up” he said placing soft peck on her lips again. “And I won’t hesitate to go further should you say, ‘thank you’ to me again. Ridiculous behaviour!” Rupert scolded her teasingly but he meant it.

It’s not as if Rupert needed a reason to celebrate his wife or celebrate with her. Everyday he got to wake up enlaced in her arms was a celebration, the warmth of her, the joy she radiates, everything pumped life into him. Most days he couldn’t comprehended she was real, someone who steered the storm of him directly out to the shore. He did not think it was possible, he couldn’t imagine being so anchored, so grounded but there she was and all it took her was a smile and his world seemed just fine. He knew he didn’t deserve her but he was so damn glad she was his. As were her dreams and her joys like her wearies.

Amongst obvious other things within their celebration, they ended up at the fancy fine dining. Generally the cooks of Rutshire sufficed for good food more than enough and Rupert’s expertise to romanticise the setting didn’t make their home dining table look any different than a fancy place yet she insisted on not skipping town this town. It wasn’t rare for them but his dates were rather activity oriented and y/n was already spent that day and wanted a slower night.

Time flew by at the dinner like it always did because conversation came so natural with her, at times he felt like he could spend hours just staring at her face, her perfect face with star for eyes and hearts on her lips and the sweetest tongue and the most precious laughter, he could swear her hair had intoxicating wildflowers in them as if he couldn’t waste a blink of a moment he got to stare at her. As the waiter presented the couple with a bill, she reached out for it and at first he assumed she were to slide to him since it was closer to her reach but she didn’t which alarmed him for a moment. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” He said with an unaccounted scoff and stopped her by placing his hand above here.

“Getting the check.” Y/n wanted to be nonchalant about this, not make a fuss of it yet somewhere with herself she knew that he would definitely not let her be sly about this.

“Yes my darling girl, get it here please.” He spoke trying to get the brown bill holders towards himself. Surprised that she gripped it harder he frowned in a confused manner. This was first of its name, extremely uncharacteristic it was an unsaid relationship law between them that he always paid. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” Brows furrowed back in reciprocation, a bit taken aback as to how seriously he took this prospect of paying for a restaurant check. When clearly neither of them had any financial bounds, even independently. “I’m paying.”

Rupert just laughed in her face as though she cracked a joke, “very funny” this time he grabbed the check towards himself at once.

“I’m serious!” Exclaiming with a whine as she tried to reach out for it again and he leant backwards shaking his head at her determination to get to it, “I’ve got a promotion today, come on!”

“And? You’re still my wife.” Rupert said with a quick glance at the bill and instantly shutting the book so she couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the figure.

“Yes exactly! I’m your wife I should be allowed to treat you.” She reasoned further prying him to let her see the bill but it was of no use, he’d already hid it behind him and sat tall in her way to reach to it.

“I am treated more than enough. More than you could imagine.” He shrugged as he reached for his wallet, a mere moment away from guarding the bill from her and she was back at it. Yet with another feeble attempt to reach to it.

“You know I can afford it!” It was like a dead end getting the ever headstrong, hellbent on spoiling her, husband of hers to be convinced to let her do something for once.

“It’s not about affording my love, I myself can’t morally and romantically afford you paying.” He exaggerated getting his wallet out and distracted her with a kiss as he placed the money inside the bill, so she truly couldn’t see the amount, no pestering would get him to change his ground.

“You are relentless” she breathed breaking away from the kiss yet remained close to his face.

“And you are mine.” He continued kissing the side of her face then let go off the bill putting it on the fattest side of the table, away from her reach. “Mine to spoil, to love, to irk, to fuck the life out of—“

“I think that’s enough” widening her eyes with the prospect he was reaching towards at the end of his sentence, not that she minded it. He knew that, besides the blush on her face said otherwise too. It was a rather civil and a public setting to be romantically lewd.

“Is it?” A deep chuckle escaped him at her awkward unbidden expression, he loved that.

“Let’s go?”

“—As my sweet girl wishes.”

-

It like any other day of their married bubble, only the first week of y/n’s promotional job and she had come home later in the evening. Obviously Rupert had to pick her up, he noticed this change within her of not being drained and mundanely exhausted from her long work day. She would talk his ear off unlike falling asleep on the way back home out of exhaustion how it occurred in her previous job. Rupert himself could tire out from her enthusiasm at the end of day, he loved this for her. Seeing her prosper and spend her time doing what she loved and coming home to who she loved, it warmed his heart. The hearty soul of her did not need energy for love, it was inherently imbedded within her.

However much he loved for the her to work on her deepest passions timelessly, his own deepest passion was loving her. It would have annoyed him if she had been working late over a job that drained her: that would be twice the disgrace of time he shared with her and he hated having it lessened. As of now, knowing she was off doing what she loved it simply eased his heart he’d never want her to cut down a bit even for him. He could simply find more time. Just how he picked her up from her workspace, it was a forty minute drive from their home, so almost an hour and half round trip for him but that gained forty more minutes with her.

Now, once home as she was having a bath, he came inside with his chair and a book in his hand as casually as strolling into any other room in the house. For a moment she was surprised and alarmed, shifting within the water and the foam surrounding. She had already offered him to join her but he’d refused her since he had already bathed. Was he planning to bath twice in the same evening? She thought to herself awaiting him to remove his clothes and get in but he just settled the chair close to the bathtub and sat on it. He even opened the book and was about to go on with his reading as though he just took a comfortable seat in the living room. “Rupert?” She questioned extremely amused by this antic.

“Yes my love?” He responded without looking at her, crossing one leg above the other, flipping through pages to reach the page he’d last left the book on.

“What are you doing?” A small giggle escaped her tilting her head, he was about to do something thematically romantic at any point she considered but this wasn’t as steamy as he usually was for foreplay.

“I’m reading.” He shrugged, as he raised the book fully to display her the cover. The

two often had silent reading sessions and the book he was currently into was something she had recommended so he would not read it if she wasn’t around. Not that she asked, but he’d rather have her around when he was reading a book she recommended, or some other book, or the newspaper, figuratively just about whatever. He’d always prefer to be around her.

“Whilst I’m trying to have a bath?” Bemused y/n tried piecing if he was actually nonchalant or going somewhere with this, she could generally tell. Currently it was weighting heavy on him being nonchalant yet, this setting was too much for him to not go somewhere.

“And have I blown out the candles? Have I turned the shower on? Have I splashed you with cold water?” Rupert went on with alternatives that would require her confusion “I’m not stoping you from bathing, love.”

“But you said you didn’t want to get in? You already bathed.” Who seriously reads in the goddamn bathroom whilst someone is having a bath. Rupert, apparently. This was a new discovery, at times he would walk in on her showering or bathing and most definitely join in, even if they were talking and she had to pee he’d just carry the conversation through the door, right outside. Not that he didn’t pester to be let inside, it’s just where she deemed 2 minutes of privacy to be necessary.

“I am not bathing. I am reading.” Rupert emphasised again, “I have got my chair see?”

“You can read in the living room, or our bedroom, or the guest room or wait—the library!” She joked leaning against the bathtub wall, finding this situation rather comical but it was a genuine chosen setting for him.

“No I want to read here with you so we get more time together.” He mentioned ever so casually whilst reading and indulging the conversation with her at the same time.

“I’m not going away on war tomorrow, Rupert.” Y/n was surprised to say at least, at times it seemed like Rupert was an amalgamation of all possible love languages: physical touch, words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time too.

“But we will go to bed in a few years so we would be away for six to eight hours—depending on where the night leads us.” He told her with a smirk on his face, implying what they got up to at night and regards with how much time the activity takes up to be up the next day.

“We sleep in the same bed what do you mean away?” This time she laughed, which made his lips curl down to a small smile from the smirk.

“I don’t get to see you until I wake up.” He reasoned and given how sure he was of himself Rupert considered that most definitely valid. By then, since the door was open like it always was, one of his dogs made its way inside as well. Peacefully lounging next to Rupert’s chair as he scratched their fur child’s back. “See, you’re his favourite too!” Time to time, not even one moment went by where Rupert didn’t think out loud about his book or even the most mundane of conversations which peaked their minds.

As he fell silent, focused on a passage y/n finally found the moment to reflect on this scenario “I really can’t believe you actually went on with this.”

“Darling I read all the time.” Rupert told her, breaking his reading link without hesitation.

“No I meant in here, I’m literally naked here.” She mentioned even though the foam covered all of it leaving her out just from the neck and face. It wasn’t left to interpretation that she was naked obviously.

“I have seen you naked more than you have seen yourself naked, come on” shrugging he returned to his finger on the word of his book to continue. The exaggerated implication didn’t seem so exaggerating when he said it like that and she knew better than to challenge him.

“Wow” was all she could mutter with a small laugh, “you know most people don’t bath with an audience.”

“One, you’re not most people and two, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Their black mutt walked inside as well, buzzed with enthusiasm when it saw the full bath tub. Pacing up to jump right in with y/n, Rupert brew this habit of bathing with his dogs and as much as she loved them, she couldn’t bath in a lavender soap foam pool and tangerine candle hue with their dogs.

“And that’s my cue” she sighed, reaching up for the towel and quickly wrapping herself in it as she got out. The dog moved frantically in the bathtub with more room available now, causing Rupert to laugh and he stood up following her outside. Resettling on the arm chair in the bedroom as she got dressed, “it really concerns me to think what would happen to you if I had to go away for work or a girlfriends retreat for a week or two.”

“Your ladies trip generally runs short for upto 2 days and 4, maximum. As of work I’d just come with you” he proposed a solution at the top of his head.

“What if you couldn’t?” Amusing, y/n put on her bottoms. Now he’d completely set his book aside given he couldn’t miss a chance to see her getting dressed which made her laugh a bit to herself.

“What could I possibly have to do?” Rupert shrugged, lounging back on the chair. He had his work too but he didn’t even consider to consider it on the same level of importance.

“You’re a minister!” Exclaiming she reminded him, he spoked it a casually as if a real world did not exist outside of her. If he were to answer to that he’d let her know he was aware of a world outside of her but the real world lied within her so it didn’t matter anyways. “House of commons were in a crumbling mess whilst I would be away for work, what then?”

“Everything is a crumbling mess when you’re away darling.” Shifting in his chair he let out a sigh, “Besides if Tony Baddingham can use three different choppers in the same day to commute from the same office, I can most definitely fly out in one to see my wife.”

“What if I end up in an instant tragic situation and pass away?” She was layering herself, pulling a sweater over her head blocked her view of his face, which was an an immediately colour drained and changed one as she pulled it down. They were being light hearted, funny, what set him off all of a sudden?

“If you didn’t want me to read whilst you were bathing you could have simply asked me and I would have left granting you your privacy.” His playful demeanour shifted to a rather stoic one in an accusatory tone.

“What-?” It left her confused since she didn’t even comment on that subject nor did she drop any passive taunts that it bothered her, “what are you saying of course I wasn’t uncomfortable—it was just funny, sweet even I didn’t say it bothered me not at all.”

“Then why say such morbid things?” He scoffed, the unsettling feeling in him could not be contained whilst being seated so he stood up.

“It was just a silly question but it’s not inevitable-“ trying to reconstruct the meaning of her question he interrupted her.

“This is ghastly behaviour y/n, why would you say such things” letting out a heavy breath he paced small steps back and forth as he spoke.

“Such things? Are you serious? Life is just unpredictable it’s not like I said something wrong about you!” The exaggerated adjectives he used really ticked her off for some reason.

“It is plenty wrong talking about exiting our life like that!” He retaliated with words but kept his volume level headed like a normal conversation because despite his anger she deserved a decent tone from him at all times. valid anger and ill behaviour were mutually exclusive, one didn’t account for other obviously.

It left her taken aback and somewhat finding this conversation ridiculous, “it’s just logical thinking. Why do you think people have life insurances—both of us have one.”

“It’s a practicality. It’s a requirement.” He emphasised growing agitated that he wasn’t getting his extremely simple point across.

“Exactly it’s practical-! Neither of us will live forever.” She pointed out to the space between them, unsure of what exactly was making him have such a dramatised point of view.

“You don’t have to talk like that when I asked you once not to, I don’t enjoy that.” He sighed, tone dejected as sulk overpowered.

“You want me to apologise for saying I may die one day?” She asked sarcastically it wasn’t as serious nor difficult to her as it was to him.

Her repeated if again truly punctured his resolve for proper-ness. “Yes.” He paused, he generally never demanded apologies especially not from her.

“I am not saying sorry for a joke” she scoffed shaking her head, he was absurd to think that wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“—I think you should.”

“Well I won’t.” Remaining firm to her point y/m didn’t waver. But with a tensed jaw he did. Grabbing the pillow set from his side of the bed was enough for her to piece his move “you have got to be kidding me.” Generally when the fought, she would be the one sending him off to sleep in the guest room, he eventually would make his way back or vice versa because they did not believe in letting the other one go to sleep upset, yet this was a first. He couldn’t possibly outmatch her pettiness.

Rupert didn’t say anything as he made his way past her, the pillow tucked under his arm as he reached for his book. “You can keep your apology.” He huffed and left with his last word.

Leaving her to their bedroom, she pondered confused for a while that she truly did not say anything offensive and of the apologising, which clearly wouldn’t make her a smaller person but it was about principles. Was he even that upset? Why was he even that upset?

Rupert could be upset but he most definitely could not be upset and far from her for longer bounds of time, he softly knocked on their open bedroom door and leaned against the doorframe. Averting her attention to the door, she was doing her routinely journaling and today was rather eventful. “Back in 45 minutes?” She couldn’t help but smirk slightly at that, “you broke your last record I’m truly proud of you!”

With a deep exhale he leant off the doorframe and walked over to her stopping the stopwatch she’d set on their alarm clock. It was this stupid inside joke, he would always come back from the guest room or the other way around and she would time how much minutes to break their resolve. It was bittersweet in a way that despite the fight and faults he never made her upset to the extent of not awaiting him. “Last was 40 minutes was it?”

“41.” She corrected wanting to see him lighten up, the inescapable small smile on his face really helped. “Sit” she pulled him down to sit close to her, cross legged on the bed. His hands in hers as she spoke “what’s really got you so upset huh? It can’t be what I said, is it because I was working late?”

“No no it’s not you working late. On the contrary I am very happy about that, you’re pursuing your dream, I couldn’t be happier. But it is what you said…” he trailed off with a sigh tightening his grip back on her hands. “I have lived most of my life with my heart on my sleeve, until you I’ve never come across a love I was affected deeply by if I were to lose. I have lost, people have left and quite frankly I wasn’t affected to the one tenth fraction of them leaving than how the thought of losing you in any way affects me. I feel every minute of every hour you are not here, the mere thought is extremely disheartening and unpleasant. Is it possessive? Obsessive? Absolutely fucking mental? I couldn’t care less. I love my wife and I want her around forever. Y/n I put my heart off my sleeve into your hands and that’s the only place I want it to be.”

It left her speechless that he was in such turmoil, she felt so bad for being so insensitive towards him earlier she even refused to apologise, “Rupert” she said meekly, unable to hold his gaze she kissed him and shut her eyes. Deepened and passion filled kiss, with his arms enlacing her waist he brought her to his lap. “I am so so sorry, I feel like a jerk. I had no idea you had such overwhelming dread of losing me I am truly very sorry I joked like that-“

“You couldn’t have known unless I tell you, it’s not your fault.” Rupert reassured her instantly holding her closer to himself.

“I should have known. I can’t be this careless when I am holding your heart in my hands.” She spoke cupping his face to bring it closer to place a soft peck on. “Now that I know better I wouldn’t be so difficult with jokes, you are not losing me in any sense, in any way, ever. Life may be unpredictable but we will be inherently together to witness it I promise you.”

“My darling girl” he intertwined his fingers through her hair as he kissed her again and the bliss of beautifully heavy feelings and a perfect promise rounded them.

—

Brothers and kings, it is 5:48 am I just wrote this…staying up…I can hear the milk man and our neighbours waking up…I have no g1rl left in me you can call me dude

Also please I’ve made this with a lot of will and CRAZY efforts please please please leave a comment I would love to wake up to pls pls pls if you hate this piece I will kms

[rosieswriting]

Barty Crouch Jr x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: After the birthday of your dear friend, Pandora Rosier, Barty doesn´t seem as bad as he did before

Note: I took one of the request of reader "tutoring" barty not knowing he doesn´t need it by @treefairy-28 thank youuuu. And english is not my first language so it probably has some mistakes! And i will do a part 2 to where things get really interesting

Words: 3,2K

You’d always hated Barty Crouch Junior. Everything about him grated on your nerves—the way he spoke too loudly in class, yet still managed to top every exam; the infuriating pet names he used for you; his smug belief that being a Slytherin somehow made him superior, especially to Hufflepuffs like you. His walk, his talk—everything about him seemed designed to annoy you. Luckily, you’d always managed to ignore him. Until now.

You’d recently been paired with Pandora Rosier for a Potions project, and to your surprise, you’d quickly grown close. How had you not been friends before? She was sweet, caring, and easy to talk to—similar to you in so many ways. When her birthday rolled around, she invited you to a small celebration at the Three Broomsticks with her twin, Evan, and a few of his friends. Including him. You’d thought long and hard about it, knowing you’d have to deal with Barty, but in the end, you decided to go. After all, it was for Pandora, and you could always try to ignore him.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, busier than you’d expected. It seemed half of Hogwarts was out celebrating. Just as you were scanning the room, you heard Pandora’s cheerful voice calling your name.

“Happy Birthday!” you said warmly, pulling her into a hug and handing her a small box containing a silver necklace.

Pandora’s eyes lit up as she opened it. “Oh, I love this! Thank you so much,” she beamed, hugging you again. “Come on, we’re over here.”

She led you through the crowded room toward a cozy corner table. And, of course, as you approached, you saw Evan Rosier, Regulus Black and Barty leaning back in his chair, already watching you with that familiar smirk.

“Hi” you mumbled a bit shyly to the slytherin as you sat next to Pandora, and to your luck, Barty was seated right in front of you. Regulus and Evan gave you a slight nod of acknowledgment and continue their conversation.

“Look who decided to join us” Barty teased raising his eyebrows “Dindt think you would show up, Treasure”

“Barty” Pandora said with a warning tone to his friend, trying to shut him up. But he only raised his hands in self innocence and exuse himself with a poor “just trying to start a conversation”

“I wouldn’t miss Dora´s birthday just because I have to deal with you, Junior” you said with a fake sweet smile to him.

“Deal with me? You wound me Badger” he said and you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“If its any consolation, im actually impressed that your ego managed to fit through the door” is the last thing you say before turning to talk to Pandora and ignore him.

You and your blonde friend talk for some time, she telling you about how her birthday has been and all the presents she got. At some point you start to get thirsty.

“Im gonna ask for something to drink, ill be right back” you say kindly as you stand up from the chair.

“I’ll go with you” you hear Barty says as he stands up as well.

“Great” you whisper under your breath as you start to make your way to the bar, him following behind you.

You ordered a butterbeer, and Barty, naturally, ordered the same, positioning himself so close that his shoulder brushed against yours. The warm, subtle contact sent an unexpected flutter through you, though you tried to ignore it.

“I must admit,” he began, leaning down just enough to speak directly into your ear, “when Evan told us Dora would invite you, my expectations for tonight went up higher.”

“Good for you,” you muttered, turning to face him with an eye roll, only to find his face so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek. You quickly turned your gaze forward again, pretending to study the bottles lined up behind the bar. He chuckled, catching the slight blush that had crept up your cheeks “When Dora mentioned you were coming, I almost declined her invitation” you continued, doing your best to sound unfazed

 “If you say so. But, can I just say, you show up here looking like this, put me in my place with that sweet, sassy voice of yours… you’re killing me here.”

Despite yourself, you feel warmth creeping up your cheeks.  Thankfully, the bartender hands you both your drinks before you have to answer. You turn to make your way back to the table, but Barty steps in front of you, forcing you to stop short as he smirks down at you, close enough that you catch the faintest spark in his gaze.

“You know, I think you secretly like driving me a little mad,” he murmurs, amusement flickering in his eyes. “It’s cute, really—seeing you pretend to be so above it all.”

“Pretend?” you scoff, raising an eyebrow as you try to sidestep him. “Trust me, Junior, I’m not pretending anything.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, following you smoothly, keeping pace as you try to dodge around him. “Then explain why you look so flustered.”

“I’m not—” You stop, realizing he’s caught you, the faint blush on your cheeks betraying you. You try to shrug it off, holding your head high. “In your dreams, Junior”

He grins, leaning in close enough that his voice is a murmur just for you. “Oh, Treasure. In my dreams we are doing more than talking. Belive me”

You huffed, finally brushing past him and making your way back to the table. “Idiot,” you muttered, though you couldn’t ignore the faint thrill left in the air.

Sliding back into your seat next to Pandora, you tried to steady yourself as she happily dove back into conversation, thankfully distracting you from the lingering heat in your cheeks and Barty’s lingering gaze across the table.

As the night wore on, you and the slytherins stepped out of the warm, bustling atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks into the chilly night air. The sharp bite of winter nipped at your skin, making you shiver as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to keep warm. You hadn’t brought a jacket and now you were regretting it.

Pandora was chatting animatedly with Evan and Regulus, blissfully unaware of your growing discomfort. Barty walked alongside you, his familiar smirk already playing on his lips. You knew he was about to make a comment, and you braced yourself.

Without warning, Barty slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tightly around you before you had the chance to protest. “Here, wear this,” he said, his voice low and smooth, ignoring your startled expression. “You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”

You blinked at him, flustered. “You don´t have to-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Please, like I’d let you suffer while I stand here all warm and toasty.” He chuckled. “You show up looking all stunning, and I won’t let you ruin it by turning into an icicle.”

Your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture, the warmth of his jacket enveloping you like a shield. You tried to regain your composure, shivering slightly as you adjusted the jacket to fit more snugly. “Thanks, but I don’t need your charity, Junior.” You weren´t willing to give up that easily.

“Oh, is that what you’re calling it? Charity?” he teased, falling into step beside you again, his grin infuriatingly charming. “I thought it was more of a gentlemanly move, if you will.”

“Gentlemanly? You?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

“Why so skeptical? I can be quite the gentleman when the mood strikes me,” he said, leaning in closer again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Besides, I can’t have my favorite Hufflepuff catching a cold now, can I?”

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at his words, and you tried to deflect, “You’re just doing this to annoy me, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “But I also happen to enjoy the view when you’re flustered. You should see your face right now. It’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” You repeated incredulously, fighting the urge to smile. “You really think you’re charming, don’t you?”

He leaned back slightly, feigning deep thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say charming. More like irresistible.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you shot him a glare. “Keep dreaming, Junior.”

“Trust me, I will,” he shot back with that devil-may-care grin.

Pandora turned to you both, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Oh my gosh, you two are so cute! You’re practically flirting!” she gushed, completely unaware of your desire to bury your face in your hands.

“Flirting?” you exclaimed, turning to Barty in disbelief. “This isn’t flirting; it’s sheer torture!”

Barty chuckled, his gaze locked on yours, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Torture? Maybe I’ll have to keep it up then. Can’t have you getting too comfortable, can we?”

As you walked back to Hogwarts, you could feel the weight of his jacket around your shoulders, and though you’d never admit it, the warmth was more than just physical. Despite the banter and the bickering, you couldn’t shake the flutter in your stomach. Barty Crouch Junior might drive you mad, but maybe—just maybe—there was something nice about having him around after all.

You arrive to Hogwarts and everyone makes their way to their common room, the boys to Slytherin´s, Pandora to Ravenclaw´s and you to Hufflepuff´s. You get into your dorm quietly, because even if it was a Friday night, your roomates were sleeping.

As you began to undress, you suddenly realized you still had Barty’s jacket draped over your shoulders. Great, you thought with an eye roll. Now I have to see him again. You sighed, folding it neatly and placing it in your wardrobe alongside your other clothes.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to wash off your makeup and change into your pajamas, you settled into bed. The comfort of your blankets enveloped you, but no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the memory of Barty's teasing grin lingered in your mind.

You hated that the last thought before sleep was that goddamn smirk of his—so infuriating yet somehow captivating. With a frustrated huff, you turned over, determined to banish thoughts of him, but the image of his charming arrogance persisted, a playful reminder of the night’s events.

You woke up the next day, the soft sunlight filtering through the windows of your dormitory. The quiet of the weekend morning was a welcome contrast to the usual hustle and bustle of school life. You moved through your routine slowly, knowing you had no classes to rush to today. After freshing up, you dressed casually and made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. You decided to take Barty´s jacket with you, so you could return it as soon as possible.

And thanks to Merlin, when you enter the Great Hall you immediately spotted him at the Slytherin table with his friends. You wave at your own friends and make them a signal to wait for you as you approached the green table, your friends staring at you like you had gone crazy.

“Junior” you call out softly from behind him.

Barty´s head whipped around, his grin widening when he saw you “Treasure!” his voice was full of amusement as he looked you up and down “Miss me alredy?”

You rolled your eyes and extended his jacket over him “Im here to return this, and to say thank you again” even if he was insufferable, you were always polite.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased by your words, as he took the jacket from you “You know, I was hoping you would keep it for longer. You did look amazing in it. Not that I didn’t like you in your top, of course”

You felt the heat increasing in your cheeks at his words but try to hide it with a scoff, your hands instinctively moving to fold your arms across your chest. “Whatever” you muttered, stepping back and already starting to turn away “Goodbye”

Some days later you were sitting with your friends in the courtyard, laughing as you discussed the latest mishap in Potions class, when you noticed a familiar figure making his way toward you. Barty Crouch Jr, in all his swagger, had that unmistakable smirk as he approached your small circle, his eyes already fixed on you.

"Treasure," he greeted smoothly, nodding to your friends before focusing entirely on you. "Got a minute?"

You raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback that he’d be seeking you out in broad daylight, in front of witnesses no less. “Depends. What do you want, Junior?”

He chuckled, unfazed by your tone. "Pandora said you’re somewhat of an expert in Magical Creatures. Thought maybe you could help a struggling Slytherin with a few... basics.”

Your friends exchanged glances, one of them biting back a smile as they elbowed each other. You tried to ignore it, focusing on Barty. “Struggling?” you echoed, skeptical. “You’re one of the top students. Why do you need my help?”

He shrugged, managing to look both innocent and mischievous. “Call it an off week. I could use some extra guidance.”

One of your friends couldn’t resist chiming in, “Are you sure you don’t just want to copy her notes, Barty?”

“Oh, I’d love to copy,” he said, giving you a pointed look, “but I think I’d learn more if we… studied together. Say, this afternoon?”

“Fine,” you said, ignoring the snickers from your friends. “The library at six?”

“Or my room?” he suggested, not missing a beat. “Much quieter. Comfier too.”

You rolled your eyes, even as your friends burst into laughter. “Nice try. The library will do just fine.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning disappointment. “Heartbreaking, really. I was hoping for a more… private lesson.”

“Guess you’ll just have to settle for learning in public,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “See you at six, Junior.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his smirk widening.

With that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving your friends barely containing their laughter.

“Oh, Merlin,” one of them said as soon as he was out of earshot, “did Barty Crouch Jr. just ask you for a tutoring session?”

You sighed, trying not to show the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “Apparently. And he’d better actually need help with Magical Creatures.”

But even as you turned back to your conversation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this “study session” was going to be anything but ordinary.

That evening, you made your way to the library with a stack of notes on magical creatures and a determination to focus—no matter how distracting your “student” might try to be. When you arrived, you saw Barty lounging at a back table, idly flipping through a book that looked suspiciously unrelated to magical creatures.

“Good, you’re here,” he said with a grin as you sat down. “I was starting to think you’d stand me up.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat in front of him “Almost did” you mumble under your breath as you opened your book and notes. The library was quiet as you huddled over a hefty tome on magical creatures, quills and parchment spread across the table between you. It seemed like he was genuinely focused—or at least, he pretended to be.

“Alright, Junior” you said, pointing to a section in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, “why don’t you tell me everything you know about hippogriffs?”

He gave you a thoughtful look, scratching his chin as if deep in concentration. “Hmm… majestic creatures, proud, can be very dangerous if approached incorrectly… does that sound right?”

You tilted your head, eyeing him suspiciously. “So you do know about them, after all. That’s a decent start.”

“Well, I have the basics,” he said with a little grin, “but I wouldn’t call myself an expert. That’s where you come in, Treasure.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, nudging the book closer to him. “Alright, fine. Hippogriffs are proud, but there’s more to them than that. They’re highly sensitive and require respect—bowing to them before approaching is essential.”

He nodded, trying to keep a straight face, though you could tell he was amused. “Bowing. Got it. Sort of like dealing with you, isn’t it? Respect, admiration…”

You huffed, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Keep it up, and I’ll leave you to fend for yourself next time we have a test.”

“Anything but that,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn’t fade. “You’re far too charming when you’re lecturing me on magical creatures.”

You ignored him and went over a few more creatures, each time finding him surprisingly attentive. He asked questions—good ones, actually—and seemed engaged in a way you hadn’t expected. You started to think maybe he genuinely did want to learn more about the subject.

As the library began to empty, you glanced at the time. “We should probably get some dinner before the house-elves clear the tables,” you said, gathering your notes.

You started to walk to the Great Hall, still in conversation about the finer points of bowtruckles, when something slipped out from under his arm and fluttered to the ground. You instinctively bent down to pick it up, and your eyes widened as you caught sight of the parchment. It was an essay titled “The Lifecycle of Thestrals” with “A” scrawled at the top in red ink. The neat handwriting and the perfectly structured points left no doubt: Barty had known exactly what he was doing in Care of Magical Creatures all along.

You blinked, looking from the essay to Barty, who wore a guilty-but-unbothered grin.

“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t need my help at all, did you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he replied, his smirk widening.

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Unbelievable. So you wasted my time?”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Come on, can you really blame me?” His eyes held that familiar glint. “When Pandora mentioned you were the go-to expert on magical creatures, I knew I couldn’t miss the chance. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend a few hours with someone as pretty as you, Treasure?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away, trying not to let him see how flustered you felt. “You are unbelievable,” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Unbelievably charming? I’ll take it,” he said, grinning as you approached the Great Hall. “I had a great time, by the way. Maybe next time, we can have a... more private study session.”

He threw you a wink before sauntering off toward the Slytherin table, leaving you standing there, cheeks flushed, speechless, and—if you were being honest with yourself—a bit confused. Because somehow, despite his insufferable arrogance, the idea of spending more time with him didn’t sound half as annoying as you’d expected.

[brookediamonds]

heyy, is there any chance i could request where there's a young competitor on the iron dragons like devon/kenny's age and axel and the reader sort of take them under their wing and act like their second parents? no worries if not!

next to you | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: Taking the newest Iron Dragon student under your wing, or wings, you and Axel unknowingly adopt the newcomer creating a new title for your relationship.

Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: None, tooth rotting fluff

(A/N: I love this!! 🥹 I hope you do too!!)

gif is not mine

"Chop, chop, let's go," you clapped your hands as you stood outside of Axel's black convertible as your mini me walked down the driveway.

Marcus rolled his eyes at your bossiness, making you quirk a brow up from under your sunglasses.

"Don't give me that look, we brought you a bagel," you hold up the brown bag that contained an everything seasoned treat.

Marcus perks up taking the bag from your hand before hopping into the backseat of Axel's car.

"Thanks, guys!" The 15 year old grins reaching into the bag for the breakfast item.

"Don't get my car dirty," Axel warns him as you fastened your seatbelt.

"He wouldn't," you frowned. "He knows better."

Axel scoffs beginning to back out of the driveway. "Right."

The sun beamed down on your skin, wind blowing softly through the flyaways from your french braided hair, as Axel drove down to the local arena of Hong Kong.

"Are you nervous about today?" You ask the young boy, turning in your seat slightly.

"Kind of," he mumbles through a mouth full of cream cheese.

"You will do fine," Axel spoke assuringly. "You've been doing very well at practice."

You nodded in agreement reaching over the console to grab at Axel's hand. Your boyfriend flips his palm up, letting your fingers slip into his before giving them a gentle squeeze.

Wordlessly, he lifts your hand, giving the back of it a soft peck in reassurance. While you two had been dating for three years already, his small gesture still sent butterflies to your stomach.

"You two are gross."

You grinned leaning over to press a long dramatic kiss to your boyfriend's cheek with a, "muah!" Making Axel smirk and Marcus groan.

"Thank god we're here," the prepubescent boy exhales as Axel pulled into the parking lot.

You rolled your eyes, the smile never leaving your face. Once you're parked, the three of you head into the building, seeing some of your teammates already there.

"Morning," your Sensei greets you as all of you pass him into the locker room.

"Good morning, sensei," the three of you respond in unison. You head into separate locker rooms, changing into your green gi’s for the tournament.

When you head back to your team, you see Zara talking with Axel and Marcus. The stands were filled with people, the environment buzzing with excitement and occasional cheers for the competitors.

"Oh look, mom and dad are here," Zara teases you as you approach them.

You stop mid-step, eyes flickering over to Axel and Marcus who looked just ask amused and stunned as you.

"Come again?" You inquire.

"Yeah, you two hover over Marcus like concerned parents. You train with him, hype him up, lecture him when he gets reckless—" Zara begins to list off examples of your actions towards the boy.

You raise your eyebrows taking everything she was saying into consideration.

"She's not wrong," Marcus pipes in as he stretched next to you all. You scratched the back of your head awkwardly. Looking over at Axel, who is also processing her words, you nudge him with your elbow.

"We do bring him breakfast a lot," you admit.

"And pick him up and take him home," Axel realizes.

You stare at Marcus, scanning his facial features when it suddenly dawns on you, "Wait… does he kinda look like us if we had kids to you?"

The three of you all suddenly began to study the boy's face when he narrows his eyes at you.

"I do not look like you two!" Marcus interrupts your unhinged thinking. "It just so happens I have your same colored eyes and am almost as tall as Axel."

You pouted dramatically walking over to him, wrapping your arms around him as he stayed still, arms by his side with a sour look on his face.

"You totally look like us!" You cooed squeezing him.

Zara bursted out laughing, Axel shaking his head at the whole ordeal.

"Please make her stop," Marcus begs looking over at your boyfriend.

"Sorry kid," Axel shrugs with his arms crossed.

"Alright," you sighed releasing your hold walking over to Axel's side, nudging him playfully. "Come on, dad, let’s get our kid ready for his match."

"Not funny," Axel mutters, but the smirk on his face betrays him.

The tournament soon began, the competition starting off with the kata category soon transitioning to the one on one's between males and females.

You and Axel easily dominated your age division, earning The Iron Dragons 1st place for Seniors. Marcus was in the Junior division, fighting well but struggling when it came down to the finals for the boys.

Marcus is a headstrong adolescent, he fights with integrity and struggles to accept defeat when a mistake is made. He reminded you a lot of yourself when it came to dwelling on your loses and reminded you of Axel when he fought with everything he has inside of him.

When Marcus joined your dojo, you quickly took notice to his hard working demeanor and love for the sport that you didn't want Sensei Wolf to corrupt that innocence and passion he held.

So you took him under your wing, you and Axel. You gave him the words of encouragement and assurance your Sensei never had to offer.

You didn't want him to resent the sport like you and Axel were starting to when you were Marcus's age. Together you and Axel kept each other afloat, and stood by each others side when things got too hard, mentally and physically.

And you would be sure to do the same for the young boy that stood defeated on the mat from the loss that just occurred.

Marcus walked off the mat, holding his head held high like you taught him to if this should happen. Your Sensei stood with his arms crossed, prepared to release his wrath for losing when Axel stepped in front of him.

"What did you do wrong?" Axel asked, his voice steady but firm.

Marcus, still catching his breath, glanced between Axel and Sensei Wolf before answering. "I dropped my guard after the second counter," he admitted, jaw tight. "I thought I had him, but I hesitated."

Axel nodded, his expression unreadable. "And what should you have done?"

"Stayed on him. Followed through instead of waiting."

"Exactly," Axel said, crossing his arms. "Don't hesitate, you go for it, something we can work on, right?"

Marcus exhaled slowly, nodding. "I can fix it."

"Good." Axel nodded before finally turning to Sensei Wolf, who had remained silent, watching the exchange with narrowed eyes.

For a moment, it seemed like he might object, might force his authority back into the situation. But then, without a word, he stepped back.

You let out a quiet breath, glancing at Axel, sighed in relief as well.

"You okay?" You ask quietly walking up to the defeated boy.

Marcus nods, still holding his tall stance, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands remain clenched at his sides. 

"You fought well," you say lightheartedly. "You made one mistake, and you already know what it was. That means you’re learning."

Marcus exhales sharply, shaking his head. "Learning doesn’t win matches."

"Well, no," you agree. "But it does make you better for the next one."

Marcus looks down at your optimistic smile, feeling a certain amount of weight lift from his chest.

"You're gonna win the next one," you state reaching out to squeeze his arm.

"I'm gonna win the next one," Marcus repeats after you.

"Exactly," you state. Axel can't help the small smile tugging at his lips when you give your words of encouragement.

Marcus huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. "Wow," he mutters. "You two really are my parents."

You and Axel glance over at each other, smiles forming on your faces.

"Yeah well, someone's gotta look out for you," you tease the fifteen year old. He snorts, shaking his head before walking off to join the rest of the team.

As you watched Marcus rejoin the team, you feel Axel’s hand brush against yours before he takes it fully, his thumb running absentmindedly over your knuckles making you look up at him.

"You really have a way with him," Axel says lowly, eyes softened.

"And you don't?" You tease, turning to face him.

"I just tell him what he did wrong," he shrugs nonchalantly. "You actually make him believe he can do better."

You reach for his other free hand, intertwining your fingers together.

"We make him believe he can do better," you correct him. Axel huffs a quiet laugh, squeezing your hands.

"Guess we make good parents,'" He smirks down at you. You feel your heart flutter in your chest, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

"Agreed," you finish before standing up on your tippy-toes to brush your lips against his. Before Axel can kiss you again, Zara's whistle echoes through out the arena.

"Alright, mom and dad, quit making heart eyes and get over here!" She calls out to you guys.

Axel groans making you chuckle under your breath. He throws an arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to where your team stood.

"She's never gonna let us live that down, you know that right?" You smile glancing up at Axel as he sighs dramatically.

"I know," he mutters, shaking his head. "But at least we’re the cool parents."

You laugh, leaning into his side as you approach the team. You squeeze Axel’s hand one last time before letting go, stepping into place with your team.

No matter what happened next, one thing was certain: Marcus would always have you two in his corner. And he was grateful for that.

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

(a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! ❤️ Axel for sure would drive an all black vintage 1969 Camaro, I don't make the rules. Not 100% I'll have a V-Day one shot, but gonna try my best to make one up, I'm thinking it's gonna be with the sunshine axel x grumpy reader trope. Still working on other requests btw!!)