#both in terms of how long ago that fic was and also how long it took me to answer this 😅😭
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kindahoping4forever · 3 months ago
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Happy Encore-versary! I still reread this series so often, it's still one of the funnest and sexiest I've found in this fandom. <3 <3
Apologies I couldn't answer this in a more timely fashion but yes! This past weekend was the original Encore fic's 3rd birthday, which is absolutely wild. Thank you for remembering and for the lovely words about the series as well! As time goes on, I have more and more affection for those stories and I still think about that couple often! It makes me happy to know you're still enjoying those fics all this time later too đŸ„°đŸ’™
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pr0cyon-lotor · 4 months ago
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AU where instead of Shen Yuan being obsessed with Luo Binghe, he's instead obsessed with the scum villain himself. I mean we all know Bingge is Very Not Good Personℱ but you know who else a Very Not Good Personℱ? Say it with me: Shen Jiu
Like just imagine a timeline where Shen Yuan is writing paragraph after paragraph about how Shen Qingqiu might actually be a good person but Airplane is wasting his potential. The other commenters are saying he's delusional because he abused the protagonist and as all these TERRIBLE allegations towards him. So he's a clear cut villain.
But Shen Yuan is defending his fav with the vigor of a devout worshipper. He's constantly siting parts that are obvious plot holes and how they could give much needed context to Shen Qingqiu's character.
Other people are demanding for worst things to happen to Shen Qingqiu to spite him. Airplane caves. Shen Yuan actively commissions art and fics where Shen Qingqiu is happy. People tell him "Shen Qingqiu won't fuck you bro"
Shen Yuan isn't interested in that. He's a freaky little man with freaky little likes. He'd gladly take Shen Qingqiu's cold glares and even volunteer to have tea poured on him.
When he finishes PIDW, he's been outraged that Shen Qingqiu was killed off a while back. He's even more outraged that Shen Qingqiu wasn't given any mention at the end.
Now, imagine with me that he gets transmigrated into some NPC, literally Unimportant Character No°5. Probably as the head disciple for drama reasons. And as soon as Shen Jiu is brought in, scruffy and hissing as he is. He immediately hugging his thighs and saying he'll be peak lord for sure.
Please follow me into this suspicious alleyway as I continue to explain my vision fueled by sleep deprivation.
So now imagine your Shen Jiu. You're a former street rat and demonic cultivator, you aren't expecting to be liked or respected. You're expecting it, you've come to terms with it a long time ago. What you weren't expecting was for this random ass guy you have to call da-shixiong is immediately insane about you.
He met you first day, literally saw you bite a guy, and immediately started spouting out how you'll be the next peak lord and the absolute envy of Cang Qiong Mountain. You conclude he's missing a few screws because he said it in the most disgustingly sincere way.
You try to continue on with your life, trying to beat him and he looks almost... Excited about you beating him. So he's an M, you think to yourself. But then you see someone trying to beat him or you on something, and this guy immediately gets aggressive. Okay so he's just weird with you.
You continue to deal with him. He's weird but also weirdly respectful. He leaves if you tell him to leave. He defends you like it's his very birth right. He's always there to tend to you as if you were a god. He doesn't touch you and only sits around like a dog waiting for a command.
You eventually get strong enough to beat him, and this absolute buffoon is over the moon about it, already spouting about your supposed success again.
When you actually become peak lord, it isn't surprising. Your hype man has been saying it since day one, he was expecting it for some reason. He continues to spout out nonsense about how he just knew you were going to do it.
So what now? You obviously desire him carnally. What is the next step?
Okay so I know this wouldn't fix them. Almost without question this would make they both worse. But, hear me out, it would be funny. (Especially since just know Shen Yuan's entire inner monologue would be him saying he's just being a good friend as if he isn't being the gayest man in the sect and Shang Qinghua is there. That's an accomplishment to outgay the author)
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starkwlkr · 5 days ago
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she’s always a woman | max verstappen
an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader
tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother
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Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.
KARTING DAYS
At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.
“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.
“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.
“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.
It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.
Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.
As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.
Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.
“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.
“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.
“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”
The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.
Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.
All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .
Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.
The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.
“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.
“But she wasn’t!”
“She was.” Jos confirmed.
Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.
As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.
2021 SEASON
Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.
It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.
The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.
“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"
Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.
“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."
“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."
“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.
You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."
After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.
Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.
“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.
“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."
Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.
“Max," you began, but he cut you off.
“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”
Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother
 she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.
Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.
“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."
Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"
Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.
Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.
Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.
"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.
His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.
Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.
When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.
“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.
“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”
“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”
“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and any talk to.” He said.
“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."
“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”
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QATAR
The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.
“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”
He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.
“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”
A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.
“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”
His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.
“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”
Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.
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ABU DHABI
It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.
The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.
All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.
“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.
Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”
She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”
Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”
Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.
Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.
“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”
Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”
Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”
Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”
Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”
His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.
“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”
Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.
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The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.
You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.
You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.
You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.
But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.
“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.
Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.
“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.
“You won. Congratulations.”
Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”
You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”
Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”
You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”
Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.
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“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”
Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.
While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.
“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”
Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”
Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”
The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.
Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”
You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.
“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”
That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”
“We both did. I owe it all to you.”
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jeonstudios · 15 days ago
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fontana di trevi | 02
you seek out a vampire to help you with something.
pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader
genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)
word count: 9k
warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 2/2
<previous | next>
© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
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“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.
What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.
He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?
“I
 didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks
 almost cuddly.
Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but
 you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.
This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 
“Yeah, I still want this. I just
 wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.
“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”
You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.
“You were there to
 feed, weren’t you?”
He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”
It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 
Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”
“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.
Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.
The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.
“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”
You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.
“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 
“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.
“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”
Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 
He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been
 softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.
“I take it you’ve killed before?” 
There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.
“I have.”
“How do you
,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do
 after?”
“Are you asking
?”
“How do you
 dispose of them? And
 I guess, how will you dispose of
 me?”
It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.
You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”
You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.
Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.
One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.
You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.
Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 
Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 
It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.
Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.
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“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”
“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 
“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”
“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”
“Vampire?”
Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.
“What
 was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that
 blood?”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.
“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.
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You think
 you’re being
 carried? By someone firm and
 warm. You like that.
“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”
“I’m dying
 right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.
“Probably, yeah.”
He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.
There’s another voice.
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Next time you open your eyes, you feel
 different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.
As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.
“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”
“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”
“I
 don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”
“I changed my mind.”
You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”
“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”
“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”
“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.
You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.
“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”
You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 
“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
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Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then
 where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.
His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.
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When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.
Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel
 okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.
Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 
After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.
You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.
As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.
“Do you know where my phone is?”
The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.
“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”
“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 
The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.
Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.
It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.
Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 
The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?
At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’
“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 
You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”
“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 
You roll your eyes. “No.”
“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.
“Have you even been outside of this town?”
Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.
“No.”
“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”
“Of course. But it’s not
” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”
The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.
“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”
He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.
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Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 
It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 
Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.
Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 
Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 
Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.
Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.
But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.
About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do
 that.
You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 
Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.
The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 
Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 
“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 
Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 
“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 
Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.
“A proposition, you say?”
“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”
“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”
“There is no catch. I want to die.”
The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 
You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”
“You’re Jeon’s human?”
“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.
“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.
“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”
“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”
“I’m not
 I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”
The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.
“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”
“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”
“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”
“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.
“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”
You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”
That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.
“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”
The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”
You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.
“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”
The smiling vampire shakes his head. 
“No.”
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You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 
Then, a void does take over.
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Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 
He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?
The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 
He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.
Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.
“Easy, man.”
“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”
The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 
“She wanted to die.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”
There is no pulse.
“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.
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You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 
Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 
You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.
Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks
 warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 
You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 
“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”
Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 
He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”
You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”
It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.
“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t
”
You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 
But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.
He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”
Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”
He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”
Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.
“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”
“But why
 Why would you want that?” 
You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?
“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”
“You don’t know me though.”
“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”
Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.
“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”
He’s about to leave when you call for him.
“Wait. What
 What's your name? Your given name?”
He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”
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You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but
 either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.
“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.
It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”
“I have some
 questions.”
He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 
“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.
“Yeah
 Is that normal?”
“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”
“Okay. Well, can you
 tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”
He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.
“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”
While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.
“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it
 peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”
Hearing him talk so casually and almost
 softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.
“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”
“—You mean staked?”
He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”
“Any?”
What does he mean by that? Human and animal?
“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.
You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”
“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly
 a pretty intimate thing to do.”
“Oh, okay.” 
Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel
 intimate. More of a give and take. 
“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or
 if you want to, you can drink from me.”
You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”
“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of
 this.”
Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 
“What?”
You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could
 manage on my own as
 as a vampire.”
Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?
“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t
” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”
Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”
It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’
“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”
He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”
‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’
Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.
You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”
“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”
“That you weren’t going to turn me?”
“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”
The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.
“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”
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Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 
“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.
You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.
“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.
Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.
You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.
“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.
Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 
One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.
“How come everything is so
 easy?”
He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well
 do you feel cared for?”
You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.
So you nod.
“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”
“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.
Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps
 also care a little bit for someone?”
You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”
He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like
 the change of scenery and seasons. But also
”
“Also
?”
He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”
You shake your head.
“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”
“No.”
“Then, maybe
 you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”
Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.
He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.
Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.
“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”
He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.
“Do I?”
“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but
 almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.
“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 
“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.
“Well, if you want it
 go for it.”
“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 
“Mhm,” he hums happily.
High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”
He chuckles. “Vampires who are more
 compatible tend to smell good to each other.”
His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”
“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood
 I lied.”
Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.
“You lied? About not liking my blood?”
“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”
You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.
“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”
You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 
He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little
 almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.
Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.
“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 
You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 
“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so
 amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re
 you know
”
You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.
It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.
He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”
You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.
He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”
“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I
? Do you
 want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I
”
You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but
 you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?
“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”
You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.
“So, you’re really just
 ancient?”
“Excuse me?” 
“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”
He rolls his eyes, still smiling.
“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”
“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”
“That’s kinda
 cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”
“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”
Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.
“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”
“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna take a dip?”
“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably
 illegal?”
“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.
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<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3
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azlrse · 5 months ago
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Cuddle headcannons of malleus and idia please 👉👈
➳ cuddlebug (malleus draconia/idia shroud x gn!reader; separate)
cw: kinda short cause still on writer's block, characters might be ooc, overall fluff
a/n: my freshmen year in pharmacy school has ended like weeks ago (yayy!! and had really good grades ngll) and had lots of time to write sum fics for you guys ^^
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malleus draconia 🐉
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i feel like malleus himself would be the first one to initiate into cuddling you just because he's curious on how warm you were comparing to him. bro's really curious since in his culture and heritage, mothers would initially cuddle their egg/babies and giving them with love. malleus, however was deprived with this opportunity since his mother is barely present when he hatched from his egg.
at first, your boyfriend is slightly nervous when asking you this question since the two of you are dating for at least 5 months. you just looked at him and said, "why are you asking this question? you know I'm really comfortable with you cuddling me. im just waiting for you to cuddle with me." as you extended your arms in front of him.
malleus just went đŸ„ș and đŸ„° as he picked you from the floor and proceeded to lay the both of you into his bed, making you shocked from the sudden action but quickly relaxed as soon as you felt his head being placed on the crook of your neck. malleus loves it when your hands are caressing his face as he stared at you with adoration and hearts in his eyes and tends to kiss your hand while your hand are being cupped to his cheek.
most of the time, he's the big spoon in terms of cuddling but if he's the one having a really bad day, he's the one laying on your chest being the little spoon. malleus would also love the cradle position and the half spoon since he loves holding you on his arms.
idia shroud 💠
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you're going to be the one who would proposed the idea on the subject of cuddling with him because this guy, won't be the one to initiate cuddling cause he would die of shame asking you to cuddle so good luck with him (even tho i loved him sm).
even though idia loves you (like a ton), he's gonna wait for you to ask him if you would like to cuddle with him. bro's not the type to make the move first aside from asking you out (thanks to ortho's reassurance that you liked him back)
he's also not used into physical touch so you better be patient with him, it may start with his head on your shoulder and escalated into hugging you from behind as you lay down on his bed. idia would love it if one of your leg in placed on his thigh when he plays something on his computer/console.
idia's concern regarding cuddling you is his hair but you quickly reassured him that you loved his hair so much on how comfortably warm it is in his air-conditioned room. he would whine if you are not touching his hair if the both of you are cuddling together (only you and ortho since he is really uncomfortable on others touching him, including his long hair).
probably he dreams on having you on his lap when he plays a game or just relaxing with you while talking about his interests and kisses your face while holding you (he's quite shy on kissing your lips yet hehe)
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Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.
Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕
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soapssuds · 2 months ago
Text
There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair
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Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader
Chapter 8 | An Aeon
Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!
want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^
Previous | Fic Masterlist | Next
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When you wake up, your mind feels kind of fuzzy. Almost as if you were missing something.
“Something the matter?”
You felt your soul leave your body at the sudden voice causing him to laugh. Snapping your head to the side, you noticed it was the man from before. The one who erased your death- wait, your death? And that was when it hit you. You couldn’t remember how you died or the pain that you felt. It was like-
“It never even happened?”
You gave him a weary look, causing him to chuckle softly at both your expression and how you were acting.
“There is no need to fret, you know? I am not going to hurt you.”
“What- what are you doing here?”
You ended up ignoring his lighthearted words and gestured to the library. You were still on the couch, and the book you were holding had fallen to the floor.
The man mused to himself, his smile light and warm.
“I suppose it was quite rude of me to task you finding my name.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because my name hasn’t existed in the sense that you know of.”
“
I don’t understand.”
Sunday turned a little and patted his lap. Despite not remembering your death, you did remember how you met him. So you crawled to him, moving some of the cushions in your way and laid sideways, your head nuzzled comfortably in his lap which allowed him to run his fingers through your hair once again.
“My name is Sunday, and I existed not too long ago. However, my reign was short lived thanks to that Emperor. And to worsen my pride, he went and erased my very existence by taking out everything that had any relevance to me.”
“Sunday
?”
You let his name roll off your tongue. The name wasn’t familiar.
“So you fought and lost against the Emperor?”
“I did. I suppose I wanted to see if I still existed somewhere. Anywhere. Though, if I don’t even exist in the Emperor’s library, well, then my name wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“Why did you fight against him?”
“For my own beliefs. Much like everyone else.”
“What exactly are you anyway?”
“I’m just Sunday. An older brother. A friend. A leader of sorts. And someone who failed in the end.”
“How are you here now then?”
Your voice was soft as you spoke and when Sunday looked down at you, you wondered how someone so angelic could look so sad but still have that soft smile on his face.
“I guess you could say I got lucky with how supposedly died
 if shorter terms, I became an aeon.”
“An aeon
huh? And what was that kiss you placed on my forehead? Ever since you did it, I have been having trouble remembering some things.”
“A kiss on the forehead erases pain and misery, so I kiss your forehead, however, a kiss on the forehead can also erase memory. I suppose
, I just didn’t want you to remember the pain you felt when you died.”
“Why?”
Sunday smiled at your question, “because I wanted to, do I need any other reason?”
You hummed at his answer, your eyes glancing back to the library door. You don’t remember closing, maybe Blade did?
“So now that I know your name, what am I supposed to do now?”
“Well,” Sunday started, “you still want to go home, don’t you? Find a way to do that.”
“But how? I kind of died the last time I tried.”
Sunday shook his head as he tried to keep himself from laughing, “don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way. And don’t worry about the rest. If you do die again, I’ll simply erase everything all over again.”
You nodded to his words, but yawned once more, despite sleeping for so long, you were still so impossibly tired which was when Sunday gently bent down to kiss both of your eyelids.
“A kiss to your eyelids, to erase your tiredness.”
And it was true, the sleep that was beckoning gradually left and just as you were about to say something to him, he was already gone. Your head was no longer on his lap and instead rested on a bunch of cushions, and just as you were about to sit up, the library door opened.
“You’re still lying down,” Blade said, an obvious hint of annoyance rested within his tone causing you to frown at him as you sat up.
“I was getting up,” you argued which caused Blade to roll his eyes.
“Whatever
, are you planning to stay here all day princess?”
Huffing at his attitude, you stood up while completely forgetting about the book you had been reading, “I get it, ok? I’m leaving right now.”
Stomping your way out of the library, Blade followed not so quietly after you.
“Woke up on the wrong side of the couch, did we?”
“Oh shut it you
,” your voice trailed off when your stomping slowly slowed to a stop as you looked out to the field where there were a few people riding horses.
A new idea soon forming in your mind.
“Blade.”
“What?”
“I want to go horseback riding.”
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taglist pt 1
@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbun @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly
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uglypastels · 4 months ago
Note
Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a fic Logan being all stubborn and caring with an introverted/loner type reader? I’d love if if she were sort of like him in terms of aging and had been used as a sort of weapon in her past, now she’s afraid to be with him, thinking she’d hurt him or something? And he just reassures her that even if she did, he wouldn’t leave her alone. If not that’s completely fine but thanks for reading! Loved your last fic btw!! 💚
i did my best with this and i really hope you enjoy it. also it might not be super clear from how i wrote it, but i wasn't too sure on how else to include it, but the reader's mutation is meant to be that she has spikes pull and retract from all over her body, kind of like a porcupine... ? idk i wanted it to be similar to logan's but different.
warnings: trauma/severe ptsd. angst. nightmares. crying. aggression.
~ X-Men requests Open ~ Masterlist ~
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‘Sweetheart, wait,’ Logan called after you.
‘Don’t call me that, Logan!’ You exclaimed as you shut the door, tears ready to burst. You let the weight of your body fall against the door, your arm reaching for the bolt to lock it. You didn’t know what had come over you. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. But perhaps that was exactly it. Just one too many times, had Logan come too close. At first, you hadn’t minded it all too much. Actually, you kind of enjoyed it. It was safe when you knew to keep him at a distance. But each time he persisted, you felt your walls tremble beneath his strength, and you wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. And then that happened
 people would get hurt. As they always did.
‘Please, I just want to talk.’ His voice was muffled through the door. But you could feel him as if he was right next to you. The heat of his body radiating right through everything and onto you. 
‘Just leave.’ You shouted back at him. Eventually, he would have to give up and go. If not for rest, then nutrition; if not food, then he would certainly need a drink. 
‘I’m not leaving you. Not like this.’ He tried the handle, but it just rattled uselessly next to you. ‘C’mon, let me in.’
The tears finally broke through the dam and flooded your cheeks as years of emotions and memories overwhelmed you. It all suddenly flashed before your eyes. Both the things you remembered and those that felt like images from a movie you had never seen before. Puzzle pieces of a life you did not remember and only made your head spin more.
‘It’s happening again, isn’t it?’ He always knew. You weren’t sure how, but Logan could always tell when you were having an episode. Possibly because he was the only other person on earth who understood. Who knew exactly what you had gone through. Perhaps you had known each other before the experiment, but neither of you remembered. All you knew was that you had found eachother, both lost, confused and afraid. You fought for and with eachother, but there would always be one thing that kept you at a distance, no matter how hard Logan would try to get closer to you.
Some minds just weren’t as strong as others, and after everything that had happened, it started to take a toll on you and your powers. The nights where you woke up screaming, bedsheets soaked in cold sweat, had been in the hundreds. And Logan would always be the first one at your side, ignoring the searing pain of the thousand needles that perforated his skin as he held you. 
You couldn’t always control your powers. Not when you were in such a state. You were working on it, but the weekly sessions you had with the professor could only do so much. There was only so much Logan could take, and seeing him get hurt because of you only added to the fuel of the nightmares. You had never told him how the lost dozen times you awoke in terror was because of the image of his dying frame at your mercy. 
But that’s all that it was. Nightmares. And you would never let it become reality. That was a promise you had made yourself a long time ago.
You were pulled back to reality by a loud, hollow thud coming from the other side of the door. Logan punched the wall, nearly cracking the layers, as he called out to you with no response. Your name echoed through the building, the simple word getting filled with more and more worry with each repetition.
‘Why do you care, anyway, Logan?’  
‘Because I love you, damn it!’ He burst out, and it was like the oxygen had been taken from your lungs. Time stood still. You couldn’t move, breathe, speak. Even clear thoughts couldn’t form in your mind. You had no response. None that wouldn’t bring any less hurt than you already had. But the warmth radiating through that door never left your side. For what you didn’t know was that Logan had also made a promise a long time ago, and you’d have to kill him before he’d break it. That much was sure.
the end.
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thank you for reading 💗
if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗
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lwwife · 10 months ago
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Heyyyy please please please could you write a Leah Williamson fic where the reader plays with her for Arsenal and the reader keeps getting taken down during the match. It gets to a certain point and Leah starts getting angry against the person that keeps taking you down. I feel like the reader and Leah aren’t officially together but have always liked each other and dating maybe?? Thank you!!!
My bodyguard
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Fluff, Injury, angst (not between reader and Leah)
Word count: 2,200
-
“How are you feeling about today?” Leah asks you, placing a comforting hand on your knee while you both sit in the changing rooms.
“A little anxious but I’ll be fine” You smile back at her. Today you play your old team, Man United. You’re still on good terms with most of the girls, however your ex-girlfriend, not so much. You haven’t played against her since you left last season, being sick for one of the games, and injured the other. Things already didn’t end well between you and Gabby, but when Ella accidentally let slip that you went on a second date with Leah, shit was she fuming. You received a few heated messages, to which you did not respond. So, today’s game, with you being a striker, and her being a defender, you knew you would have to be in her perimeter, and that scared you a little. You knew how good she was, but you also knew that she’d try to rile you up.
“You’ve got this” Leah whispered, inching forward to place a kiss on your cheek but moving back when she realised what she was doing, not knowing if it was okay or not. You two had always had a thing for each other. It’s been clear to everyone since your first England camp 3 years ago. Both were too nervous to make a move, especially since she had just come out of a relationship with Jordan. So, when Gabby asked you out, you said yes. The teasing and joking came to a stop once you and Gabby got together officially, but when you two broke things off and you transferred to Arsenal, it was back on in a flash. The second you saw her in the change room at London Colney you knew you had made the right decision. It wasn’t until 3 months later that Leah finally asked you out, very shyly. Your first date was electric, and everything felt right, the timing was finally right for both of you. A day later Leah asked you out for a second date, to which of course you said yes. Neither of you had embraced in anything more than gentle touches, and small moments of handholding, not wanting to mess up after waiting so long for the opportunity.
-
Stood in the tunnel at Meadow Park, you catch the sight of the jersey a couple of people in front of you on the line to your left “George” written across the back, you huffed, and she turned around making eye contact. You rolled your eyes and turned your head to face the front, where you caught sight of the jersey at the front of your line, “Williamson”, the long name curving and covering Leah’s entire shoulders. You smiled to yourself. She stood there, back up straight, armband on her left arm. She will play this game as captain since Kim is out with an injury. She turned back and looked at you, feeling your eyes staring. She had her game face on, and you were instantly turned on at the sight. You pulled a stern face at her “So serious” you mouthed. She rolled her eyes, but you caught her smile just as she turned back to the front.
-
The game started okay, Arsenal dominated the match, however, most of it was played in the midfield, and you were yet to touch the ball. In the 15th minute, Arsenal finally made a break, Lia had passed the ball through to Beth who then crossed the ball into the box, you jumped slightly trying to get something on your head when rather you felt a pair of feet swipe at yours subtly, hitting just enough to mess your landing and fall straight onto your front. You grunt hard trying to get up. Once you get to your feet you shake it off and turn your head to find Gabby smirking. You take a deep breath and continue on.
Gabby continued to make subtle digs at you through the first half. Harder hits when you were outside the box. You continued to get up, taking deep breaths, shaking it off each time. By the 43rd minute, she made a bold slide at least a good 3 seconds after the ball had left your feet, causing her to get fouled finally and you awarded a free kick. This time however you struggled to get up, having fallen weirdly on your previously injured ankle. You turned to lay on your back and propped yourself up, bottom still on the floor you rolled your ankle around, wincing slightly. That’s when you heard Leah a meter away from you. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She spoke quietly but still loud enough for you to hear. You turned to find her close to Gabby hands outstretched, but subtly, as if trying not to get noticed by the ref.
“What do you care? Protecting your girlfriend?” Gabby responded, scoffing.
“Just fucking chill out with it. You’ve been targeting her all game”, Leah walked away and jogged to your side. “You okay baby?” Your eyes widened at the nickname and your stomach filled with butterflies. Leah’s face remained concerned; brows furrowed. You stretched your ankle a bit one last time and moved your hand up to run your thumb over the line in between Leah’s brows.
“I’m okay” you smiled. “Your eyebrows will fall off if you keep scrunching them so much”, Leah giggled, the lines around her eyes creasing and you instantly smiled. “Now help me up”.  
Arsenal ended up scoring from the free kick, Katie banging it into the box, and Viv tapping her foot on it.
-
The half ended and you all walked back to the changing rooms. On the way back you felt a hard nudge in your back, it was Gabby, almost walking through you. “Really?!” you shouted at her; she continued walking, blatantly ignoring you. You sat in the changing room, listening to Jonas and the assistant coach setting up the game plan for the second half, your ankle still slightly sore. Leah noticed you wincing slightly and rolling your ankle around.
She turned to you, “Are you sure it’s okay?” she questioned, gesturing to your ankle.
“Yeah, yeah it’s fine, just a bit strained”, you replied, giving her a sad smile. She grabbed your hand.
“Come on, let the physio tape it up for you.”
-
The team returned to the second half feeling energised and motivated. Eager to keep a clean sheet and score another goal or two. The first ten minutes ran well until Gabby decided to start her hard hits up again. She would nudge you hard, or step on your feet in a corner, hard slides still coming in. Leah ran to your side each time checking you’re okay not before giving Gabby the coldest look you’ve seen. It wasn’t until the 83rd minute when Gabby had pushed you hard during a corner, that you hit your head on the post while falling. You smashed to the ground, unable to open your eyes, the light making your headache. Your forehead started to pound, and you felt yourself start to drift. It wasn’t until at least a minute later your eyes started to flutter open, the medic calling for you “Y/n we need you to stay awake. Y/n open your eyes, come on, slowly that’s it, good job”, You saw two of him, sometimes turning to three. You tried to look around, but everything was blurry. You could hear yelling and the crowd oohing and gasping. You turned your head to the right, not lifting it, where you found Leah and Gabby going at it. Teammates attempting to pull them apart.
“Don’t ever fucking come near her again!” Leah shouted, finger in Gabby’s face.
“Or what, what’re you going to do about it huh?” She edged Leah on, moving closer.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” Leah warns.
“I’m not going anywhere Leah, how about you stay the fuck away from her” she growls back, again moving closer.
“She wants me around, that’s the difference between you and I” Leah’s finger points into Gabby’s chest. “You think doing this shit will make her want you back? She deserves so much better than you.” Leah growls. Gabby loses it, shoving Leah forward. Leah instantly shoves her back. They both continued on until they were finally able to be pulled apart. “If you ever lay a hand on her again, I will fucking destroy you” Leah yells to her. Gabby gets shown a red for the push on you and on Leah. She walks off slowly, and Leah shoves her off the pitch to hurry her up. She happily takes the yellow and runs to your side.
“Darling” Leah whispers, running a hand softly through your hair.
“Ow,” you whisper.
“Shit! I’m so sorry baby” Your stomach flutters again, almost taking all the pain away. She grabs your hands instead, squeezing them nervously.
“She’s going to need to go to the hospital, they need to run checks that we can’t do here,” the medic informs her.
“Fuck okay, she’ll be okay though right?”
“Yes, she should be, it’s a pretty hard concussion, but we need to check for permanent damage.”
“Y/n” Leah whispers, “They’re going to take you to the hospital, okay? I’m going to meet you there. I’ll follow you” She turns to the medic.
“No” you try to tell her, but your voice is almost inaudible. “You don’t have to” you rasp.
“No, but I want to, I’ll be right there, okay? It’ll be okay baby.” She kisses your hand and squeezes one more time before getting up.
-
Your eyes slowly flutter open, and you’re met with the white-roofed hospital. Lights shining bright.
“Y/n! You’re awake!” Leah grabs your hand and presses a button next to you.
“Leah?” you rasp out confused.
“Yeah, I’m right here darling, are you okay?” Suddenly a nurse appears at your side, asking you how you feel whilst checking your blood pressure and heart rate.
“What happened” you ask, slightly confused. Leah explained the situation to you, Gabby’s push into the post. “Fucking hell” you mutter. “What are you doing here?” you question her.
“I wanted to be with you, I needed to make sure you’re okay.” She rubbed your hand and you smiled at her, your heart rushing.
“I’m okay” you whisper back, smiling lovingly, and squeezing her hand.
-
“Alright Y/n I’m going to discharge you but you’re going to have to have someone stay with you for the next 24 hours. Do you have a family member you can call?” The doctor asks you, clipboard in hand.
“I’ll do it” Leah jumps.
“No Leah, you’ve already done enough stop it”.
“No Y/n you stop it. I want to. I’m happy to do it, darling. Is there anything I need to know?” She asks the doctor. He runs Leah through some instructions, and you stare at her, she’s listening intently, nodding along, focus plastered on her face. Your heart swells at the sight and your mind begins to think all kinds of loving thoughts.
-
A few hours later you’re laying on the couch scrolling through your phone when a video of Leah and Gabby from the match appears on your screen. Leah enters the living room. “Y/n what are you doing? The doctor said no screentime!” She goes to snatch your phone, but you pull back.
“What’s this?” you question her, turning your phone to face her. She glances and the screen and her eyes widen. She snatches the phone off you, locking it and throwing it on the other end of the couch.
“Nothing. You shouldn’t be on your phone” she tells you off and turns to go to the kitchen.
“Not so fast missy” You stop her. “Come here” Leah turns to you, looking at you questioningly. “Here. Now.” you pat next to you. She walks over slowly, head down. “What did I just watch?” You asked her.
“Nothing, we were just chatting about the game” Leah keeps her head down.
“Nothing huh?” Leah nods her head quickly. “Leah, you know I could hear the audio, right?” She groans and puts her head in her hands. “Hey, don’t go shy on me now” you tease her. “You know you’re quite hot when you’re mad” you whisper. Placing a hand on her thigh. She turns to you, and her mouth opens slightly. She inches forward, slowly. You inch forward too, meeting her halfway. You both stop just before your lips touch and look each other in the eye. You nod and the next thing you know Leah’s lips are on yours. The pair of you grab at each other instantly. You deepen the kiss, and it feels perfect. It’s passionate, but gentle. You could call it loving. Your lips mould together as if they were made for each other and everything seems in place, the two of you are finally here, together. After a while, you pull back to breathe. You smile against her lips, “My bodyguard” you whisper.
“Shut up” and like that she dives in to kiss you again.
-
@y/ny/ln’s story
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A/n: I feel like this wasn’t my best work but I tried, I do apologise for that, I hope you enjoyed anyway. Respectful feedback is always welcome in my comments, messages, or asks :)
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mendeshoney · 19 days ago
Text
rough ride, hold on tight
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a/n: this is a part three to "a taste of the devine," and you can read part one here and part two here! this is all because of @smileysvech and her moodboard. gif is courtesy of @pyotrkochetkov because I think it contributes to remind you all how broad this man is, for absolutely no particular reason. title is from "railway" by bang chan of stray kids.
summary: andrei buys a new car, and you both take it out on a test drive.
word count: 8,680
tags: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, l-bombs, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics - in this fic, mainly mdom x fsub, andrei is a pleasure dom/service dom if you can't tell), smut, morning sex, oral sex, drool/spit kink, car sex and therefore semi-public sex, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex
Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.
***the events in piece this are pure fiction and are potentially dangerous, therefore please drive responsibly (ya filthy animals)
You purse your lips, eyes flicking up between Andrei and his sheepish smile, and back toward the brand new cherry red Lamborghini Urus sitting in the driveway behind him. It's sleek, shining in the Raleigh sun, and the sparkle of the rims in the afternoon light screams dollar signs back at you.
You absolutely do not sigh.
The only reason you recognize the car is because you’d seen Andrei looking it up on his phone a few times over the last couple of weeks, and now that it’s in front of you, you don’t know how you didn’t put two and two together before. 
From where you stand inside your shared three car garage, your Range Rover rests on your right, and Andrei's black Mercedes S-Class and his green BMW sit in the other two spots to your left. 
Andrei’s new toy is definitely not going to fit in here. 
"I traded my other Lambo in for this one," he explains, the smile impossibly wide on his lips.
"Who is it for?" You ask, though you don’t know why, considering it’s obvious, and Andrei flashes you a kilowatt smile.
"It's mine!" He exclaims. "You can use it too, obviously, if you want to. You can use any of my cars, you know that." 
You hum noncommittally, glancing at the car again, then back at your clearly very excited boyfriend.
"Well?" He asks, antsy, practically bouncing on the heels of his feet.
"It's really nice, malysh." You say honestly, because it is a very nice car, despite being far less discrete than the other two sitting next to you. It's also subtly flashier than his last one, and certainly more roomy. His old Lambo was a classic two-door, two-seater deal.
At least this one has a backseat.
"But...?" He asks, taking a step closer to you. 
You shrug, welcoming him when he wraps his arms around your waist. "Does Daniel know?"
Andrei scrunches his nose. Daniel's his accountant, who Andrei is usually good at calling before he makes big purchases like this. "It wouldn't be here if I didn't call him."
You pinch his side lightly, "Don't get sassy, I'm just making sure."
"I'm not," he protests, the slight whine in his voice not going unnoticed. "But you don't like it."
You frown, shaking your head, "That's not true, I said it was really nice."
"That doesn't mean that you like it." Andrei points out.
Carefully, you withdraw from his embrace and lean back against the door of your Ranger Rover. You consider your words carefully, because you know what it means to him to be able to spoil you, his family, and himself. But this is...well, kind of a lot. 
He surprised you with the Range Rover for your birthday, which you had been eternally grateful for - your thighs throb a little with the memory of just how thoroughly you'd thanked him for it - but that was only a couple of months ago. 
And a month before that - when you agreed to move in together as opposed to continuing the long sleepovers at the other's house - he'd moved the two of you into your current home. It had a three car garage, huge backyard, and a master bedroom with the most ridiculously large bathroom you'd ever seen in your life.
So this was a bit
well

You weren’t the kind of person who dictated how others lived their lives or spent their money. And it wasn’t like Andrei didn’t have money.
But, you remember a conversation the two of you had early on in your relationship. Andrei held you tight in his arms as you lounged on a chair by his pool, gazing at the stars as his fire pit kept you both warm. He’d told you about his upbringing, about the things his parents did and how much they sacrificed for him and his brother to keep them safe so that they’d be able to pursue their dreams.
He told you about what it was like to feel the want for things, both out of survival and desire. He told you about how being in the position he was in empowered him to give back to his family and to himself to make sure he never felt that want ever again.
So

While you understood all of that, the shiny new car in front of you still gives you pause. 
“As long as you’re happy,” you say, “then I’m happy with it.”
Andrei stares, considering the - what you hope is neutral - expression on your face. Whatever he sees there doesn’t convince him though, so he pulls you back to him, looping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to your forehead.
“You trust me don't you?” he asks. 
You're nodding without a second's worth of hesitation. "Of course I do."
"Then I'll show you it's worth it."
You’re not entirely sure what he means, or how he plans on doing that, but you nod anyway, tilting your head back so you can kiss the sharp angle of his jaw. “Okay, malysh. But you’d better park that new ride in the garage. You can move my car into the driveway.”
~
There’s a delicate caress to your waist that coaxes you from your mid morning nap, followed by gentle kisses that trace the line of your jaw, then neck. 
You stir, exhaustion still running rampant in your body, shifting to lay on your back.
"Kroshka," Andrei murmurs. You feel when he makes his way under the covers, lifting up his shirt that you wore to bed to expose your bare lower half.
He carefully rests your thighs over his shoulders, placing kisses to each as he goes, before you feel a kiss to your sternum, your belly, and then a kiss to your core, before he hums to himself, content. His hands rest on your waist, fingers gripping your body in a way that anchors him to you.
His tongue is warm and gentle against your skin when he takes his first taste, and you stir a little more, back arching in a stretch.
Andrei makes a soft noise to calm you, reassure you, and you smile, hands disappearing under the covers. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and you can feel when he smiles against you. He tilts his head to meet the touch of your other hand, where you gently caress his cheek, thumbing against his jaw. 
"My love," you say sweetly, and he presses a kiss to your palm.
"My love" he says in turn, turning back to your pussy. You welcome the open mouthed kisses he presses there, the long and filthy licks he gives you in between, moaning when he sucks your clit into his mouth, rubbing his tongue against it in a way that makes you dizzy.
You arch into his mouth, both hands diving into his hair as you giggle, scratching gently at his scalp. 
"Won't you come up here and kiss me properly?" You tease, tugging lightly at the strands before your hands fall to your sides.
He laughs, pressing noisy kisses to your skin. Andrei wiggles dramatically, your thighs still draped over his shoulders as his head pops out from under the covers, body bending you in half a little. His hair is a mess from your hands, lips pink and wet, smile dazzling you.
You can't help but think of how cute he looks like this.
"Hi beautiful." He says, eyes crinkling with his smile.
You return his smile with a bright one of your own, arms reaching out for him. "Hi handsome.”
“Have a good nap?” 
You nod, “I did. Can I have a kiss?"
He goes to you, eager as always. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers dancing at his nape. His kiss is soft, gentle at first, like he’s coaxing you to fully wake up, drawing the exhaustion from you with his mouth. Your lips fit together like puzzle pieces as they move, exchanging delicate kisses back and forth as the mid morning sun creeps in through a small gap in the curtains.
It’s not long before you’re more awake, more aware of the fire pooling in your belly, and your tongue teases at the seam of his lips, turning your kisses dirty in an instant.
You moan when you can taste yourself on his lips, head going dizzy. He moves his arms, allowing your legs to drop from his shoulders so you can wrap them around his naked waist.
You lock your ankles at the small of his back, arching into him, pussy rubbing against his hard cock. He’d worn briefs to bed, and after you two went for a run this morning, then came back to shower and eat breakfast, he’d changed again, and was definitely dressed before your nap, but had clearly shed them before he decided to wake you.
Little shit. 
You’re usually sensitive in the mornings anyway, so when his cock brushes against your folds, Andrei grinding himself against you, and your nipples brush against the fabric of your sleep shirt as you press against his bare chest, you feel yourself getting wetter, mouth dropping open in a whine.
He makes the already filthy kiss filthier when he slips his tongue in your mouth, caressing it against your own, almost massaging it. You reciprocate, and he takes you by surprise when he sucks on your tongue, Andrei moaning in approval.
The noises his mouth makes as he sucks on your tongue echo in your brain, bouncing around the edges and intensifying the haze of arousal. Andrei presses his hips tighter against you, the slide of his cock up and down along your pussy getting easier and more slippery with each passing second.
The haze clears for a second when you feel the head of his cock catch at your entrance, and your hands trail from the back of his neck to his shoulders, pushing at him. He parts from you with a small dissatisfied noise, breathing heavily through his nose as he gazes down at you.
“Are you going to be good for me, shchenok?” You murmur, one hand coming up to cup his chin, thumb gently rubbing against his bottom lip.
He nods, pressing a kiss to the pad of your thumb.  
"If you make me come," you start, sugary sweet. "You'll get a reward today."
Andrei's eyes flutter shut, turning his mouth to suck lightly on the tip of your index finger, tongue delicately licking at the digit. Your finger slips out of his mouth when you pull your hands away, resting them down at your sides again.
Nothing else needs to be said as Andrei wiggles his way back under the covers, settling back between your thighs and resting them on his shoulders. His mouth latches onto your pussy without preamble, tongue dragging up through your folds to taste you before the tip of it flicks against your clit. He repeats this a few times, and it draws a pleased high pitched noise from you, arching yourself closer against his mouth.
His tongue dips into your entrance and you keen out, his name leaving your lips in a breathy moan. He rests his forearms across your abdomen, pushing down just a little to anchor you to the bed, fucking his tongue in and out of you, burying his face into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit.
"Shchenok," you sigh, lifting the hem of your shirt a little higher. You wiggle your hips, trying to ease his grip on you so you can take what you want, but he's too strong, too focused and too pussy-drunk to do anything except reach up, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing, his arms pressing down against your stomach so he can continue fucking you with his tongue, burying his face against you, stimulating your clit with gentle bobs of his nose.
You can feel your orgasm approaching quicker than you expected, and you give into it fully, hands descending back into Andrei's hair and gripping at the strands when you come, thighs tightening around his head as your body shakes, a cry of relief tearing from you throat and echoing around the bedroom. Andrei groans at the taste of your release, lapping you up and cleaning you up with his mouth at the same time. 
After you've had the chance to calm down and catch your breath, you're quick to throw the covers back, taking in his flushed appearance and thoroughly mused hair. He climbs up your body a little, resting his head on your chest and his hands at your ribcage as you comb through his hair lightly, trying your best to tame it. 
"Happy, kroshka?" He asks, lips brushing against the bare skin of your breasts. 
"Always," you nod, pushing a happy sigh through your nose. “Do you need-”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m alright.” 
You nod. Andrei’s always been the giving type, good about not always expecting things back, but even more so the longer you two stay together.
You also did promise him a reward for later, so you suppose him holding off right now isn’t so bad.
He squeezes you, burrowing his face further into your chest. "I love you so much, you know that?" 
You smile, squeezing him back. "I do, Drei. I love you too."
You can feel his kilowatt smile more than see it, and your heart pounds behind your ribcage. You hear him hum to himself, which is his telltale sign that he's got something on his mind. So you wait him out, let him gather his thoughts. 
"Will you go somewhere with me today?" He asks finally, fingers dancing gently where they rest on your sides. It tickles a little, causing you to squirm, and it makes Andrei laugh, pressing a small kiss to your skin in apology.
"I'll go anywhere with you," you say honestly, and mean it. 
There are moments more often than not lately, especially now that you'd been together a little over a year and a half, where you felt like you two were never going to get out of this “honeymoon phase.” Maybe it’s the domesticity of living together, maybe it’s how easy the two of you fell together, or maybe it’s the optimism for the future - either way, you’d go anywhere so long as you had Andrei at your side.
He smiles, kissing your sternum once before he’s carefully climbing off of you and off the bed. You notice the small wet patch on the front of his boxers and giggle.
It also still amazed you at how easily you could turn Andrei on, how he could come without touching you, how giving you an orgasm was enough to send him into his own. 
“Get dressed, kroshka,” he says, pointing at you with a mischievous smile. “Wear something pretty.”
~
About forty five minutes later you’re slipping into a sundress, grabbing your purse, and putting on your sandals as you head out to the garage, then stop the second you’re in the doorway.
The garage door is open, and you fully expect to see Andrei in the driver’s seat of your Range Rover, on his phone and waiting for you to go. Instead, your car is back in its old spot, and he’s leaning against his Lamborghini from where it sits in the driveway, his charming smile too hard to ignore.
You make your way out, locking the door behind you, and Andrei presses the garage door opener on his keys the second you’re in the driveway and in his arms.
“What’s this?” You ask, curling into his embrace.
At the hesitation in your voice, Andrei gives an easy shrug and a reassuring smile. “Thought we’d go for a drive. Maybe even along the coast.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “The coast is two and a half hours away, Drei.”
“Good thing we have the right car to take us there then.” He wiggles his eyebrows, then makes a show of opening the passenger side door for you. “Your chariot awaits, kroshka.”
You take his outstretched hand, letting him help you into the passenger seat safely before he closes the door behind you. You take an appreciative look around as you buckle in, noting the sleek leather interior and the softness of the seat beneath you. 
Andrei climbs in, buckling himself up before starting the car, and you jump a little when the rumble of the engine reverberates even through your seat, vibrating beneath you.

Interesting.
He smirks, putting on his sunglasses before driving away, and you settle in, relaxing in your chair as the car continues to rumble under you.
~
Andrei’s been driving for about forty five minutes when you start to get antsy.
The car practically purrs beneath you, Andrei maneuvering the luxury vehicle with a practiced ease. He looks ever so handsome in his fitted black shirt, the fabric sticking tight to his muscles and accentuating the hard work he’s been putting into his body over the off season. 
His jaw clenches when the road opens up in front of him, allowing him to press on the gas and send the car flying forward on the highway. The engine rumbles to life, the vibrations of the car getting stronger as you speed up, the other cars becoming a blur beside you.
The vibration rumbles against your skin, but particularly, between your thighs, and you find yourself turning your head toward the road, biting your lip to keep from making any noise. 
You were still sensitive from that morning and had been turned on since then by the wheels in your brain turning to figure out what Andrei’s reward would be for being so good, the anticipation of it all sending liquid heat through your veins. 
Andrei eventually slows down a little, speed plateauing, and the intense vibrations of the engine only dull down slightly. You can feel yourself getting wetter, and you end up squeezing your thighs together, trying to pass it off as nothing as you stretch your arms and then your legs, wiggling as you try to get comfortable in your seat. Your hands fall into your lap, right where the skirt of your dress rests, and you flex your fingers to stop yourself from lifting the fabric and rubbing against the cotton of your definitely soaked thong to get some reprieve.
He notices - because he notices everything about you - and rests a hand on your thigh, right above your knee, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on your skin. “You okay, kroshka?”
You hum, nodding, trying not to focus on how warm his hand feels, how far it is from where you want him to be. “I’m okay, malysh.”
“Do you need me to take the next exit? Get food or anything?”
You want to say no, but you need a break from this goddamn car that you’re starting to think has been sent to drive you insane, so you nod instead, saying “Maybe, I think I just need something to drink.”
He nods, reaching for your hand where it rests in your lap. A little gasp almost escapes when his hand brushes against your lower belly, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth to press a kiss to your knuckles, his other hand still on the wheel and driving expertly. 
It’s a few minutes to the next exit, but Andrei takes it smoothly, driving till he gets to a gas station. He doesn’t need to fill up the tank quite yet, so he follows you inside to get some drinks and a couple of snacks.
You head straight for the sugary stuff - taking your time as you browse to try and calm yourself into some semblance of normal. You go about grabbing some lollipops, sour strawberry belts, a couple of chocolate bars, a pack of M&Ms and some Skittles, before heading toward the soda fridge and grabbing a Diet Cherry Vanilla Pepsi. Andrei grabs his usual chips, an energy drink, some water, and a couple of packs of his favorite gum. 
Andrei usually travels with a cooler in his trunk, and he must have grabbed it before you headed out for your drive, because he also grabs a few ice cream bars and a bag of ice, before you follow him to the counter. He pays for everything, grabbing all of the bags so you can grab the receipt and get the door on the way out. 
You both eat an ice cream bar each in the car before Andrei gets back on the road, slowly picking up speed about ten minutes later. He’d loaded most of your cold items in the cooler in the backseat, save the two ice cream bars you ate, your Diet Pepsi, a cherry lollipop for him and you, and his water. 
He’s currently sucking on the lollipop while you quietly sip your soda, trying to focus on the lingering taste of vanilla ice cream and the cherry vanilla-esque taste of your drink instead of the heat that had been plaguing you earlier.
It works, but not for long, because soon the road opens up again and Andrei’s slowly pressing down on the gas, the engine purring to life beneath you. It’s like a rollercoaster, the way you can feel the vibration of the car slowly get more intense before it starts to rumble as Andrei reaches a higher speed.
This time, you’re not able to stifle the quiet moan that spills past your lips, and you immediately tense, clearing your throat to play it off as you put your soda in the cupholder, fidgeting in your seat.
Andrei notices.
Out of your peripheral vision, you see him turn his head to you, eyes no doubt curious behind his sunglasses, before turning back to the road. His hand returns to your knee, thumb resuming his rubbing in gentle circles as he speaks around the lollipop in his mouth.
“Kroshka?” He asks. “Are you alright?”
“Mhm,” you respond weakly, “‘M fine, Drei.”
When he doesn’t say anything back to you, you chance a glance at him yourself, and Andrei turns his head toward you, observing, before turning back to the road.
His hand squeezes your knee, and you know he knows. 
It’s probably all over your face at this point, and your stomach clenches when he smirks around the lollipop, control hanging on by a thread when his hand travels up your knee, higher and higher till it’s right below the hem of your dress. 
He flexes his fingers, the tips of them dancing on the insides of your thighs, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip, trying your best to tamp down the moan that threatens to spill over. Andrei speeds the car up suddenly, switching lanes, and the sudden rumble of the engine has your thighs squeezing together before you can register what’s happening, trapping Andrei’s hand there. 
You pry them apart only a second later, but Andrei makes a small noise of protest. 
“What’s got you like this, kroshka?” He says, lollipop tucked against his cheek. His lips are so red.
Shaking your head, you reach for your soda, taking another sip, letting the bubbles dance around your tongue to give you something else to focus on. When you put it back in the cup holder, Andrei’s hand moves from your thigh to your hand, bringing it to his mouth and wrapping your fingers around the stick of his lollipop, helping you guide it out of his mouth.
The candy leaves his lips with a soft “pop!” that nearly makes you dizzy, the sound going straight to your pussy in an almost painful throb. You can feel yourself getting wetter, the cotton of your panties probably soaked by now.
Andrei, careful as his eyes flick between you and the road, guides the lollipop to your mouth, gently pushing it past your lips to rest on your tongue. You see the way his throat works around a swallow, and you know what he’s probably seeing, imagining. Your lips wrapping around the head of his cock, sucking him like this stupid lollipop, lips bright red as his precum drips onto your tongue.
You make sure to purse your lips nice and pretty around the candy before his hand leaves yours, resting back on your thigh, squeezing once.
“Zajka,” he practically croons, his voice deep, teasing, taunting. It nearly makes your thighs squeeze together again. Instead, you try to shift a little in your seat to get comfortable again, but Andrei’s hand feels like a solid weight, keeping you still.
You pull the lollipop from your lips, the cherry flavor sticky against your lips. “Yes, malysh?” You answer.
God.
You’re shocked at the sound of your own voice, how fucked out it sounds, and that just about does it. The last grip on the control you maintained this morning is gone, slipping from your hands and right into Andrei’s lap. 
It’s not like Andrei never takes control in the bedroom. He does, and he’s damn good at it, but he revels in the moments where the control is in your hands, where he can do whatever he can to please you, to be told that he’s perfect for you, being so good for you.
But when the control changes hands, when he takes charge, he takes it firmly by the reins and relishes in it, makes you question why it’s not like this all the time. 
He looks at you briefly, his eyes tracing from the lollipop to your mouth, before glancing back at the road. You comply, slipping the candy past your lips to rest on your tongue, teeth biting down on the stick when you feel Andrei’s hands against your pantie clad pussy. 
A pleased noise rumbles from his chest, knuckles brushing against your clit. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
You nod, a muffled “mhm” coming from your chest. He puts a little pressure behind his hand, and though you don’t mean to, your back arches, thereby taking your lower half a little bit away from his touch, and his head snaps over to you, brow raised, the corner of his mouth turned down in a slight frown. 
The apology is on the tip of your tongue, but it’s too late, because he takes his attention away as well as his hand, and the loss of his touch is almost too much for you to bear, especially when he directs his attention back to the road, both hands gripping the wheel as he speeds up, the engine rumbling to life beneath you with a vengeance as the luxury car tears off down the open highway in front of you.
“You’re gonna have to be patient, zajka.” He says, voice toeing the line between stern and gentle. “I need to find somewhere for us to go so I can take care of you.”
“Mkay,” you murmur around the candy, squirming a little in your seat as the car vibrates under you once more.
Andrei laughs to himself. “I just got this car, baby,” he says pointedly, “and you’re already going to leave a wet spot?”
You say nothing, too overstimulated, too desperate for him to fight him or comment on his teasing. Between the car, Andrei’s not-enough touch, and this lollipop that you suspect was used to keep you occupied in the meantime, you’re halfway to delirious, panties soaked with arousal growing uncomfortable with each passing second. The purr of the engine feels nice, but it’s nowhere near enough to satisfy.
All it does is push you closer to the edge, but never allowing you to leap.
You can only let your eyes flutter shut as you rest your head on the window, trying to focus on your breathing, on the sticky candy in your mouth, resting on your tongue. You try to focus on anything and everything other than the luxury car sent from hell - the heat fluttering low in your belly, and Andrei’s heavy breathing from beside you. 
You’re not sure how much time has passed when you feel the car finally start to slow down, too lost in the haze to process anything. 
“Kroshka,” Andrei murmurs, and your eyes blink open, head turning to gaze at him. His voice is rough, the way it always sounds when he’s barely hanging on by a thread, and you squeeze your thighs together. 
Taking a look around outside, you notice he’s pulling up to a hotel with a tall parking garage, and as he pulls into the guest side of the garage, you raise an eyebrow.
Pulling the lollipop from your mouth, you ask “Are we staying here or something?”
Andrei shakes his head, using one hand to take off his sunglasses and toss it onto the dashboard before he grabs a ticket from the machine, pulling forward once the arm raises. You note that the garage seems mostly empty, so you turn your body to look at him curiously, taking another sip of your soda before pushing the lollipop between your lips again, watching as he passes all of the empty spots and continues up to the next level, then the next, until he gets to the roof.
He parks in a spot at the corner of the roof, one not in the eyeline of any of the rooms of the hotel beside the garage, or one that can be seen from the street. There’s a cement base to a tall street lamp that hides the front seat of his car, obstructing the two of you from the view of the rest of the parking spots up here.
Andrei turns to you then, leaning over the center console and gently pulling the candy from between your lips. He reaches behind your chair to the backseat and grabs the plastic bag from the gas station, tossing the candy inside and then tossing that bag in the backseat before he all but launches himself back at you, pulling you to him with a hand behind your neck and seizing your mouth in a bruising kiss that has you rising up to your knees, sitting back on your calves. 
A surprised noise leaves you before you moan into the kiss, loving the way his hand tangles itself in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back a little. It causes your mouth to open a little more, and Andrei takes full advantage, licking into your mouth rubbing his tongue against yours as his other hand snakes its way down your torso and into your soaked panties, Andrei passing your clit altogether and sinking two fingers into your soaked cunt, all the way down to the knuckle. 
“Oh!” You cry out, arching your body towards his, and a wicked grin crosses his features.
He’s the picture of arrogance, cocky as ever as he starts to work you open on his fingers, scissoring them this way and that but never curling to touch that sensitive part of you. The noises that his fingers make as he works are obscene, echoing around the car and mixing with the little whines you let out against his mouth.
Andrei breathes them in, his lips curling around your tongue as he sucks on it, the meat of his palm grinding against your clit and sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body, dripping onto his wrist. 
“Taste so good,” he says around your tongue, licking into your mouth. It’s so obscene, nasty as his spit and yours starts to trail down your chin, neck, onto your chest. He bends his head, licking it up before pushing it back into your mouth with his tongue, lips and tongue messy as he kisses you.
His fingers finally brush against that sensitive spot inside, distracted by your mouth, and you moan, grinding down on his hand only for him to grip your hair in his hand again, a warning that says “Behave” as he pulls you back just a little. 
“Naughty little zajka,” he says against your lips. “You say you hate my brand new car then rub your little pussy all over the seats when the engine purrs for you, hm?”
You shake your head in protest, mewling when Andrei drags your bottom lip between his teeth before he sucks on it, pressing messy wet kisses to the corner of your mouth, chin, lips, all over as you speak. “Never said I hated it, I - nghhh!” 
Your words die in your throat when Andrei starts to finger fuck you in earnest, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your g-spot each time as he fucks them in and out of you. 
“Show me then,” he taunts, “Show me how much you love it. Come all over the seat, zajka. Make a mess.” 
You shake your head - it’s too fast, the pressure’s just right and you’re aching for release but it’s too much too soon. Your orgasm is racing towards the finish line and you can barely catch your breath. You reach out to touch Andrei, hands landing on his forearms where you squeeze as his fingers bring you to the edge. 
“Can I come, malysh?” You plead, pushing the words out through stuttering breaths.
He nods, leaning forward to bury his face into the crook of your neck and suck a bruise there, his ministrations never stopping. His fingers practically beckon you to him, beckon your orgasm out of you in their insistent “come here” motion, and when Andrei drags his teeth against your skin, fingers pressing deep against your g-spot, your eyes squeeze shut, body seizing as stars burst behind your eyelids and your orgasm overtakes you, arousal dripping down Andrei’s fingers and through your soaked panties onto the seat below you.
You can distantly hear soft sobs as Andrei’s voice pulls you out of your daze, calling for you gently, and it takes you a long moment to realize that it’s you sobbing, tears of relief streaming down your face as Andrei’s fingers inside of you keep still while his other hand holds you steady. 
“So good for me, zajka,” he praises. “So beautiful. You did so good waiting for it, didn’t you? Waiting for me to make you feel better.” 
Your head feels heavy when you nod lightly, and Andrei waits till you come back down a little more before he carefully and slowly withdraws his fingers from you, careful to avoid your sensitive clit as he brings his hand out from where they’ve been in your now soaked cotton underwear.
You don’t see it when his eyes glance below you, at the wet spot on the chair, and he smirks, his broad chest somehow getting ten times bigger at the sight. 
You do see it when he sucks his fingers coated in your release between his lips, eyes fluttering open the moment he does so, watching with apt amazement as his eyes drift shut, lost in the taste of you. 
Carefully, you rise back to your knees, arranging yourself until you’re sitting normally again so you can slump against the seat. Your chest heaves as you breathe, trying to calm your racing pulse, ignoring the fact that despite how hard Andrei just made you come, your pussy still throbs between your legs when you hear Andrei’s fingers finally leave his mouth with a wet “pop!” 
It’s quiet, and for a moment you think he’s going to say something smart or cocky, tease you more, but instead, he leans over the console, hand reaching for the lever on your chair and pulling until your seat is pushed all the way back, leaving a large amount of room in the well under the dashboard in front of you. 
You could almost laugh, watching Andrei and his broad, tall body maneuver itself out of his chair and across the console until he’s on his knees in front of you, pulling your legs apart gently. His hands come up to your waist, pulling your soaked underwear off of you in one go, stuffing them into the pocket of his shorts before he’s reaching for your waist again, pulling you until you’re perched on the edge of the passenger seat.
He looks up at you with a fond smile, and you can only find the energy to peer down at him with a curious look, head still thick and dizzy with your recent orgasm.
“Gonna clean you up, baby.” Andrei answers your unspoken question, pressing his hands on the back of your thighs and pushing upwards.
He moves so fast that you can barely get out an “Andrei, baby, wait-” before he buries his face in your still wet pussy, tongue pushing into your entrance. 
Your back arches, mouth dropping open in a loud cry as your body unconsciously pushes your pussy further into his face, body wrought with overstimulation.
Between the time he spent between your legs this morning worshiping you with his mouth, and how he fucked you on his fingers just now, you’re more than overwhelmed, overstimulated, and spent, but you should have seen this coming. When Andrei gets like this, when he takes control, he’s prepared to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you until he gets too impatient and finally slides his cock into you to the hilt.
And lately, Andrei’s become very good at being very, very patient. 
He licks and sucks at you like a starving man, like he’s been stuck in the desert and you’re his first drink of water in days. His mouth is even more insistent than this morning, tongue alternating between lapping at you, circling around your clit, dipping inside of you, and his lips sucking you into his mouth, making you buck your hips into his face. Every time you do, he moans, the vibrations rumbling against your skin, and he ends up just yanking you impossibly closer to him, hands on your waist feeling like an anchor. 
You can feel your orgasm creeping up on you like a runaway train. It’s almost too much, too soon, but at the same time it’s never enough. 
Since you’ve been with Andrei, it’s almost never been enough. It’s why you both end up in this constant push and pull of control, patience, restraint, restricting yourselves to “just one” or “just one more,” putting limits on yourselves until the dam breaks and the two of you end up going at it for hours.
Afterall, you two became so addicted to one another from the very beginning. There had been ten whole days between the first
well, several times
and you two entering a relationship, thereafter which you spent two unbelievable days practically glued to his bed, his shower, and your favorite, his kitchen counter, which you spent at least thirty minutes cleaning once you’d come out of your horny stupor.
Whenever Andrei gets like this, near delirious with the need to please you before he can seek any kind of relief, it takes you right back to those two days spent in his bed, to the way he made you both physically and emotionally feel his desire for you.
Now, that desire is still there, but his love always overpowers it.
It’s what drives you straight over the edge when he dips his tongue inside of you then sucks on your clit, his name falling from your lips as your hands fall over his, fingers intertwining as you shake under his mouth.
When you’ve come back down, chest heaving as you try to get your breathing under control, Andrei licks at your pussy lazily, cleaning you up with his gentle and caring attention. 
You allow it for a few moments, until you realize there’s still a small fire in your belly, and you know Andrei’s probably as hard as a rock beneath his shorts.
So you squeeze his hands, offering a small smile when he looks at you. 
“I said you’d get a reward, didn’t I?” You say, and Andrei nods, tongue still gentle as he licks at you again. You gesture for him to come to you, so he does, rising up on his knees, resting the back of your knees on the crook of his elbows as he carefully bends you in half. He doesn’t waste another second before he brings his lips to yours, kissing you with all the desperation and desire he can convey.
You reach for his waistband, undoing his belt, the button, and the zipper before pulling the waistband of his briefs down. Andrei helps, not breaking away from your kiss as he shimmies his clothes down his thighs until his cock springs free, red and leaking against his abdomen. 
He bucks into your hand when you wrap it around his cock almost immediately, moaning into your mouth. His hands rest on either side of you gripping the cushion of your chair so tightly that his knuckles turn white at the force, every part of his body fighting to restrain itself from fucking his cock into your fist, especially when you make your grip that much tighter. 
“You wanna fuck me, baby?” You murmur, moaning in surprise when he licks into your mouth, body leaning into yours that much more.
“So badly,” he asserts, sucking on your tongue the second you lick into his mouth in return. He moans, all but drooling into your mouth. He’s so desperate, so lost in your kiss and earnest in his desires that it’s a little bit messy and a little bit uncoordinated, but Andrei doesn’t care and neither do you.
You pull your head back a little, and Andrei makes a small noise of protest. “You want to do it like this? Here?”  
He nods, trailing his lips to your chin, your jaw, and to your neck, his lips wet with your lingering arousal and spit. “Pozhaluysta,” he pleads, leaving open mouthed kisses at your nape.
You adjust your hips, lining him up with your entrance. His hips buck, restraint most likely breaking, and the head of his cock slips inside. 
The moan that echoes around the car belongs to both of you, and you can feel Andrei’s breath stutter against your neck. “S-Sorry, moya koroleva.”
You shake your head, hands coming up to cup his face, bringing him from his hiding spot in your neck to come face to face with you. Your eyes flutter shut, and you pull him closer to rest your foreheads together. “No need to be sorry, baby,” you murmur, squeezing around the head of his cock experimentally, smiling a little when you can hear him start to whine. 
“No games, Drei,” you promise, kissing him sweetly, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, running your tongue over it gently before pressing little kisses to it. “Just you and me, okay?”
He hums against your mouth, chasing after your kisses even as he speaks. “No games?”
You shake your head gently, careful not to detach your lips from his. Andrei needs you too much to deal with the push and pull, and you’re still too needy to bother with it. You rub your thumbs against his cheekbones, murmuring against his lips when you say “I just want you.” 
The sigh of relief he lets out practically stutters past his lips, and you swallow it down, breath catching in your throat when he finally pushes in a little more. He groans low and deep in his chest, hands releasing the seat cushion and fitting themselves against your waist as he continues to push his thick, long cock inside until his pelvis is flush with your ass, the head of his cock close to kissing your cervix in this position.
You both physically relax when he bottoms out, and Andrei cups his hands over yours where they rest on his face. 
This is the kind of sex that Andrei loves having with you the most - the kind where you can both just lose yourselves in how good you both make each other feel, and how good it feels for you both to be able to please each other in a way that’s basically instinctual at this point. He loves being close to you, loves being attached to you in every way; buried inside you, lips attached to yours even if it’s just to kiss lazily, arms wrapped around you. 
A shiver runs through your body when you feel him throb inside you, and you tug at his bottom lip gently. “Please, Drei,” you plead on an exhale, only to inhale sharply a second later when Andrei pulls his hips back, only to drive them forward and bury himself deep inside once more.
He starts at a slow pace like that, withdrawing halfway to just push himself back in, jaw clenching when you squeeze around him each time he’s buried deep inside once more. He keeps his forehead pressed against yours, his hands resting over yours, keeps your knees tucked safely in the crook of his arms. When he buries himself deep, pressing almost tightly against your cervix, he exhales through his nose, shakily breathing in on his next inhale. 
A whine works its way out of your throat when he starts to pick up speed, still keeping the depth, still driving his cock in so deep that it hits that soft part inside of you that makes you see stars now each time he drives inside. It stokes the fire in your belly, pleasure rolling over you in waves.
When you squeeze down on him again he moans, low and deep, pushing a breath through his nose as he tries to keep focus, but he’s losing it so quickly. His hands finally fall from yours and grip onto your hips, setting a quicker pace, lighting you up from the inside out. 
The pressure and the drag is so good for both of you that moans and whines echo around his car, and your eyes roll back into your head, hands dropping from Andrei’s face to his forearms, fingers flexing uselessly, too weak and pleasure drunk to grip onto him tightly.
Meanwhile, Andrei feels like he’s going insane. It hasn’t been long since you’d both been intimate, and it hasn’t been long since you’d both been intimate like this, but it never mattered when it came to you. You lit something on fire inside of him, walked into his heart and his soul and turned on all the lights and settled in. It was almost laughable with how good you made him feel, about anything and everything, but especially this. 
He can feel a knot form at the base of his spine at the same time he starts to feel your pussy flutter and clench around him, the way your body wants to push him away and pull him deeper at the same time. Carefully, he tightens his grip on you and thrusts harder, a little faster, careful to keep you in place on his cock and not jostle you too much.
His car is definitely shaking with the force of his efforts, and the moans and whines falling from your lips start to get louder, dragging out as you both climb and race towards your orgasms. You tilt your chin up, eyes squeezed shut as your lips search for his. He captures them in a bruising kiss, groaning into your mouth as one of your hands reaches up weakly to cup his jaw. 
“I love you,” you manage to choke out, pressing the declaration to his bottom lip. “I love you so much.”
A low whine of relief echoes in his throat, and Andrei leans forward, burying his face in your neck, pressing your hips down as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. “Ya tebya lyublyu,” he grunts out against your neck, sealing his words with a kiss. “Ya lyublyu tebya bol'she vsego na svete.”
His confession takes you by surprise, and you gasp, spine arching as you come and pussy squeezing him so tightly that it’s almost painful for him as he fucks you through it, bullying his cock into you as he chases after his own orgasm. When he comes, he presses deep inside, leaning into you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can, your fronts pressed together.
Your heavy breathing fills the car, the silence echoing against your ears and making your head throb a little bit, but you hold tight to Andrei, feeling his chest heave against yours as he tries to get his breathing under control. He drops your legs after a moment, and you stretch them delicately behind him before locking your ankles at the base of his spine. 
“I like your car,” you eventually say. 
The silence that follows is brief, Andrei cutting it when he laughs out loud, and you can feel his teeth press into your skin with how wide he smiles from where he’s still hiding in your neck. He noses along the length of it, nuzzling that ticklish spot under your ear, and then presses a kiss there, whispering a soft thank you. 
He’s still weakly pulsing inside of you, and you willingly wait him out, content to just sit here with an armful of your doting boyfriend who just fucked you silly in the front seat of his stupidly expensive luxury car that secretly (apparently) doubled as a vibrator.
“There’s baby wipes,” he says eventually. “In the glove compartment. We can throw the wipes in the bag from the gas station.” 
You raise a brow. “Did you come prepared for this?”
He shakes his head, slowly pulling himself back to look at you. His face is flushed, pupils blown wide a little, gaze still slightly hazy. “Not completely, but I brought them just in case.” 
Carefully, he twists his upper body a little so he can turn and open the glove compartment, taking a few of the wipes out and turning back to you with a happy grin. You smile, pressing a quick peck to his lips. “My smart guy.”
Andrei chases after your mouth, and you let him catch you, savoring the delicate kiss he gives you. He presses three more to your lips. “Gonna pull out now, baby. Gonna clean you up.” 
You nod, fully relaxing back against the seat and unlocking your ankles from behind him. He carefully withdraws himself, and is quick to begin cleaning you up with the wipes when his come starts to immediately fall out of you. 
You’re not surprised at how much there ended up being - he had been pent up since the morning, after all. 
You reach behind you to where the plastic bag with your lollipop fell to behind his seat, and you hold it open for him as he deposits the wipes before tying it off and putting it back behind his chair. He carefully massages your legs, offering you a wolfish smile. 
“Should we keep driving?” He asks, “Or should I maybe book us a room here? Since we’ve basically commandeered the roof of their parking lot.”
You smirk at him. “Fucking in a Lamborghini not enough for you?”
“It’s never enough when it’s you,” he says. Even though it comes out playfully, you can hear the seriousness in his voice.
You reach out, running a hand down his front. “Let’s go home, actually. The coast can wait another day.” When he looks at you, confused, since he didn’t mention that as an option, you smile mischievously at him. “I want to suck your cock while you drive and see how many times I can make you come by the time we get home.”
He blinks at you, stunned, before he’s fumbling, pulling his briefs and pants up before all but launching him out of the passenger side of the car and racing back to the driver’s seat.
You can do nothing but grab the hair tie on your wrist and pull your hair into a ponytail, a content feeling running through your veins. 
You could definitely get used to having this car around.
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purple-plum-petals · 6 months ago
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⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╼        Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)        Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions
 Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.        Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship        Word Count: ~2500 words       Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”        Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also
 let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͥ° ͜ʖ ͥ°)             Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
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You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.
Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.
Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say
 which is why you were as worried as you were lately.
Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.
Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–
”
Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “
I wanna break up.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W
 What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”
“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.
Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “
is good fer you.”
Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”
Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”
He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”
“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I
 Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”
Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just
”
He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”
The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”
Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”
Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you
 I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family
” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”
Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”
You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”
Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–
”
“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”
“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”
“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”
“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.
“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but
” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”
Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together
” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”
Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I
 I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just
” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad
 I want to be beside you throughout it all.”
“Heh, well
 I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “
Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”
“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.
He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”
“I won’t, I won’t
” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya
 I love ya so fudgin’ much.”
“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”
“Well
 I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry
 Can I, darlin’?”
The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”
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dixons-sunshine · 8 months ago
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Seizing ïżŒfor a part two of young!daryl head cannons omgđŸ˜©
Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons Part Two | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
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*GIF isn't mine.*
Word count: 853.
A/n: Here's a part two of my personal headcannons while I mentally prepare myself for the scene I'm about to write in my newest fic. Hope y'all like these!
âžłàŒ»â€âœżâ€àŒș➳
★ So it's quite common for us Daryl writers to have him call the reader "Sunshine", but I feel like it explains a lot about how he feels about you in this.
★ He definitely called you sunshine long before you actually got together. It's because Daryl sees his life as a bad thunderstorm, but you're the ray of sunshine that breaks through the devastating downpour.
★ Of all the things he loves the most about you, his favourite physical thing about you is your thighs. Whether you guys are watching movies on the couch and are cuddling, whether you're with him when he's driving, whether you guys are doing more... not-so-family-friendly activities, it doesn't matter. He loves gripping them. It's his absolute favourite.
★ Despite that, however, he's definitely a boob guy. He just can't hold them when you're in public, so your thighs share first place with them.
★ He definitely is also enamoured with your smile. It just makes his day so much better whenever he sees it.
★ He wanted to drop out of high school, but you talked him out of it—it wasn't easy, and you promised him that you'd support him either way, but he decided to stick it out and graduate.
★ In the first part, I mentioned that you and your mom lived with your grandparents until you were six. I definitely headcannon that your grandparents didn't love you and were deeply disappointed in your mom—they are really conservative and couldn't come to terms with the fact that their daughter got pregnant at 18.
★ They were abusive to you. Whether it was physically or mentally, that I'll let y'all decide for future fics.
★ Despite that, you remained positive. That was over a decade ago and you had refused a long time ago to allow them to be an anchor around your neck.
★ You talked to Daryl about them a while after you officially got together.
★ You told them about what they did and that made Daryl realise why you were so patient and caring with him. You understood.
★ On a more lighthearted note, Daryl has an unhealthy obsession with playing little pranks on you.
★ He's usually a serious guy, but with you, he allows himself to let loose. He plays pretty innocent pranks on you, like swapping your toothpaste out for mayonnaise. Never anything that could hurt you.
★ You always returned the favour, though, and that started many prank wars between the two of you.
★ Daryl isn't a great dancer, but sometimes he'll pull you into his arms and just sway with you, with or without music.
★ You absolutely loved it, even if you didn't understand why he did it.
★ “D, not that I'm complaining, but what's this about?”
★ “Jus' 'cause.” He never revealed more than that.
★ He would never tell you this, put he loved wearing face masks with you.
★ He kind of loved the way his skin felt afterwards. However, he loved how giggly you would get whenever he put up a "fight" and then finally agree to it.
★ He would always agree to it, but he allowed you to think you convinced him to change his mind. He'd let you have that just to see your radiant smile and hear your radiant laugh.
★ He lives for forehead kisses. Whether it's him giving them or receiving them from you, he doesn't care. He just loves them.
★ You and Daryl had both walked in on your mom being all lovey dovey with a man and teased her endlessly for it.
★ She always teased you and Daryl, so it was only fair to repay the favour, you had told her once.
★ She knew it was all in good fun, though, so she didn't scold you for it.
★ Your mom and Daryl are close. Not in a gross way, but in a familial way. She sees Daryl as her son-in-law.
★ She worked a lot of nightshirts at the bar and more often than not walked in the next morning to find you and Daryl acting all romantic in the kitchen.
★ Has she accidentally walked in on you and Daryl having sex? She would never tell...
★ She has met Daryl's father, as stated in the previous part, and absolutely hated the guy for what he was doing to Daryl.
★ She may or may not have been the reason why he had a flat tyre once and was late to something.
★ She had grown to heavily dislike her parents for how they treated her when she got pregnant with you. She vowed to herself that if you were to get pregnant at that age, she would never make you feel like you were worthless. She may have been a kid having a kid, but she loved you dearly and couldn't imagine her life without you.
★ She knew she wasn't always the best mom, but she tried her best and hoped she was doing okay.
âžłàŒ»â€âœżâ€àŒș➳
Okay, so here's part two. I might make a part three?
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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novalpha · 2 years ago
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𝘝𝘩𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘯 đč𝑖𝑐 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑠
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♡ Fluff || à­šà­§ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♀ Mature (No smut) || âœč Humor
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Buy A Boyfriend ♡★⌗ -> @sluttywoozi Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4
Summary: Being a professional boyfriend on SVTHub is great - all Vernon has to do is respond to a few texts, send out a couple selfies, do a stream every now and then, and he makes enough to cover tuition. Things get a little tricky when he finds himself wishing he actually was your boyfriend.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ By hook or by cross â™Ąà­šà­§â˜… -> @kabira
summary — so you punched a guy, and now he wants you to teach him how to fight, because clearly, you know how to do it better. well, fine, you say. as long as he keeps his distance. (spoiler alert: he doesn’t.)
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ divorce child ♡★ -> @lovelyhan
summary: you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Cold hands, Warm hearts ♡ -> @duhnova
synopsis: this holiday season, your daughter decided the best present she could give to you was a new boyfriend, which is why she and her best friend yujin have taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. their candidate? yujin’s father.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Operation : Hot girl summer ♡âœč★ -> @shuaflix
SUMMARY ▾ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe's piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you're floating high up in the clouds.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Not a virgin ♡âœč★ -> @ncteez
Vernon, a friend of your friend spills his spicy sex life and accidentally reveals to an entire group of near-strangers (including you) that he’s had sex one and a half times and that it was sick.
or the one where despite vernon not being a virgin, he is somehow more of a virgin than an actual virgin. 
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ High and fucked ★ -> @rubyreduji
summary: hansol is nothing to you but your ex-boyfriend's roommate, but you still find yourself alone with him while you get high together
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Risk it all ★ -> @sluttywoozi
Summary: Vernon's got a crush on his tutor, and everything gets harder when you start wearing thigh high socks. Everything.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The soulmate service ♡âœčà­šà­§ -> @dkfile
the soulmate service has one purpose: to help those who drew the short end of the stick and ended up without a person to live their forever with. after the heart wrenching realization that the boy you’ve loved since you were thirteen isn’t the one meant for you, you put your love life in the hands of vernon chwe — which, now that you think about it, is probably a very bad idea.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Work husband ♡âœč -> @wondernus
synopsis: falling for the young and flirty high school history teacher is inevitable especially when he pays for your groceries and calls himself your work husband
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Trillium ♡★ -> @beahae
Summary: Vernon is flying in to see his girlfriend. Oh shit, that’s
 you. Being away from him for the past few months ago makes it hard for it to feel real, especially after two years of what you both convinced yourselves was a purely platonic friendship. Now that he’s here in the flesh, you are determined to make it feel real. And very non-platonic.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Say you love me (i love you) ♡âœč -> @viastro
synopsis: three heavy words. you’re so used to saying this to the one person that’s always been by your side, because you know that he’s your other half; platonically. these words have always held some sort of meaning whenever you say it to vernon, in hopes that maybe one day he’ll say it back to you.
❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Distraction ♡âœč★ -> @minghaoyoudoin
summary: typically, when a person’s house smells like fire, you call the fire department. when your house smells like fire, you know it’s because Vernon is cooking.
[ More Vernon fic recs will be updated ]
Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here
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prettymase · 9 months ago
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I Can Do It Better
NOTES: Hi guys đŸ€­ it’s been a while and I can assure you I’m in a much better place now and was inspired to write after re reading my old fics. For now I’ll be posting my old fics and I hope you enjoy đŸ«¶đŸŒ
WORD COUNT: 12.1k words
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It was the first weekend you spent in Manchester. It felt a little odd adjusting to the new lifestyle in a new city where you barely knew anyone, it was going to take a while to get used to for sure but there was no one else you’d rather do it with.
The one person you sacrifice it all for
The reason you moved up here in the first place
The love of your life. Your boyfriend.
Mason Mount
Both of you are spending the evening in a restaurant in the city centre of Manchester with Mason’s new teammates alongside some of the WAGS.
You were nervous at first because you hadn’t met his new teammates properly yet apart from the England teammates, but meeting new people always made you anxious. It brought out the introvert in you, a side to you that you rarely showed anyone. What people think of you always matters to you because you’re a people’s pleaser and their first impression of you always matters, thinking about it made you feel sick. You wanted to make people believe that you were this confident, outgoing person but who were you to fool?
Even meeting the WAGS made you feel uneasy, everyone was either influencers or had their own businesses and then there was you, who had a basic 9-5 office job. Which there was nothing wrong with but it made you feel insecure about your relationship because you always thought in the back of your mind that you weren’t Mason’s type, no matter how many times he reassured you.
In terms of friendships, you also had a bad luck. You had a lot of fake friends since college, some of whom you had to cut off from your life because you didn't need toxic people in your life like that, no matter how much it hurt you, but you had to do it for the sake of your mental health.
You had a good few friends that you’d do anything for. But there was one where you’d just drop everything for at that second.
And that was your partner in crime, Sid.
From the beginning, this girl had been by your side all the way through. You could count on her to make your day ten times better, no matter what day it was, whether it was a bad day or a good day, she just knew how to make your day better.
It didn't take you long to figure out what you were going to do without her in Manchester. Because you were used to seeing her every day, you hadn't accepted that you had moved away from her and that she won't be a few minutes away from me, instead she will be a few hours away from me, but you didn't want to deal with it yet because you were used to seeing her every day and didn't want to accept that you had moved miles away from her.
You wanted to get through tonight without any problems.
You and Mason were the first people to get there surprisingly, because usually you were used to being late. The nerves were getting to you, Mason who was beside you in the waiting area had his arm around your waist, and another hand on your bare thigh silently comforting you.
As well as seeing Mason's nervousness, it was evident that it was a big deal for him, of course. He was meeting his teammates for the first time and was hoping that they'd all get along. You grabbed the hand that was on his thigh and started kissing his knuckles lightly just to show comfort and to give him reassurance that you were always there for him.
You put your arm around him, as he buried his face into your neck as his hand went to your bare back, “You okay?” You whispered, wanting to do your best to try and calm his nerves. As soon as he was about to reply both of your phones started going crazy with Twitter notifications, just to see that The Sun had posted a moment the two of you had a minute ago.
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“Gosh, they’re quick aren’t they?” Mason laughed, making you laugh too.
You both had spent a few minutes before the rest of them had come, in that time a couple of his fans came up to him asking for a photo, which he couldn’t say no too.
The sight of him with fans always managed to melt your heart. He was just so gentle and caring with them. You heard one of the fans that had come up to him say that Mason was his role model and it made you so emotional and proud at the same time. The way Mason’s smile brightened when he heard that, it’s a sight you’d never get tired of seeing.
His smile is the most beautiful ever. The way his dimples come into place and his eyes crinkle with his smile. It’s just a little too perfect.
-
Once everyone had finally come and you got seated your nerves started to settle but your hands never left Mason’s squeezing it every so often. All of you had got seated into a private room so that they couldn’t get interrupted, which Mason was secretly thankful for. You were squeezed in between Mason on one side and Jadon on the other, with Anouska opposite you, which you were thankful for.
You had spoken to Anouska a few times when Mason played for England for the Euros and The World Cup. So you were pleased to see a familiar face as it brought you right back to your comfort zone.
While the lads were talking you, Anouska and a few of the WAGS who sat close to Anouska, were talking about girly stuff that satisfied all of us girlies.
You turned to your right to see Mason settling in slowly with his new teammates which settled your heart because that’s all you ever wanted to see.
After months of drama with Chelsea it was like he was slowly losing himself, you saw it first hand. It was heartbreaking to see, so the fact he’s got a fresh start with a new club and seeing him laugh made your stomach erupt with butterflies.
You missed the sound of his laugh so much. It was good to see him coming back to his normal self. It’s all you ever wanted for him. It’s what he deserved.
A while later, Jadon had started a conversation with you. You had known him since the England squad and he was a funny lad. Every time you spoke to him you know there was going to be a good few laughs.
“How’s you and your girl?” You asked, remembering that he had a girl then last time you spoke to each other.
“Oh. We broke up, she wasn’t ready for a relationship, she felt there was too much pressure,” Jadon sighed, you hated yourself to asking that, now that you felt bad.
“I’m sorry for asking, the right one will come along when the times right,” you said smiling softly at him.
“I think I’ve made my mind up anyways. I think you are the perfect woman I need,” Jadon said with a serious tone, your heart dropped, you didn’t want trouble with this teammates. You only have eyes for Mason.
“What?” You asked confusedly. He burst out laughing seeing your reaction.
“I’m joking man, I know you and Mase are practically married. It was just funny seeing your face,” Jadon chuckled.
“Oh shut up J,” You said rolling your eyes playfully as you stood up to go to the bathroom with Anouska and the girls, leaving the boys to their boy chat or whatever they were doing.
-
Mason was talking to Luke who was on the other side of him, when he heard you talking to Jadon. He felt a little jealous that you and him were getting a long well. He knew that you both were good friends from the past England tournaments, but seeing you laugh with him every five minutes made him uneasy to see you with another man. Mason wasn’t trying to be possessive or anything, Mason thought he was getting a bit too some for his liking but he shrugged it off. He had known you had eyes for him and him only.
Once you had gotten up to go to the bathroom, Jadon scooted over to your hair for the time being so he could speak to Mason as he hadn’t done the entire evening.
“You alright bro? I hardly had a chance to speak to you this evening, you settling in alright?” Jadon asked, cutting Mason’s conversation with Luke short.
“Yeah bro! It’s all good. It’s going to take time settling in properly, but me and Y/N will eventually get there. She’s been a big help.”
"Well if ever need anything, you know where me and the Manchester lads are. Speaking of Y/N, she's a good girl. Don't let her out of your sight, someone else might have eyes on her," Jadon winks, as he moves back on to his own chair.
“Sound bro,” Mason sounded annoyed but tried flashing it with a smile which could practically fool anyone. What he was thinking was a whole different story. He had enough questions and doubts in his brain, he tried brushing it off and trying to act as if he wasn’t bothered by which could possibly fool anyone. However, he knew it couldn’t fool you.
You could read him like a book.
-
Ever since you had come back from the bathroom, Mason’s mood was off and no matter how much he tried hiding it with that precious smile of his, you thought to ask about it there and then but you hesitated knowing that this wasn’t the time and place for it.
Walking to your seat, you squeezed Mason’s shoulder in comfort, as you went to sit down you could see Mason playing with his fingers, looking down in his lap while everyone else was talking, you wondered if he felt out of place that’s why his mood was off?
You put your hand on his thigh, smiling softly “Are you okay, Mase?” You asked, as you couldn’t take seeing your boyfriend in a mood.
“I’m okay babe,” he smiled back, bringing the hand that was on your thigh up to his mouth kissing your knuckles gesturing that he was grateful you asked. You don’t know why you asked because you knew what he’d say would be a lie, he’s never not said to you ‘I’m not fine’, previously you’ve had to force it out of him but tonight you didn’t question it any further as you thought there was a time and place for that, and at a restaurant with his new teammates ain’t the place to do that.
Throughout the whole night, he kept to himself, only replying when needed to, but his hand never left yours.
The drive back home was awfully silent. Normally Mason’s hand would be finding his way up your thigh, but today it was by his side or on the gearstick whenever needed to change the gears. He hadn’t given you a second look since you both had left the restaurant, which you found odd.
You wondered if you had done anything to piss him off?
If that was the case he would’ve been moody with you the whole night too right?
And what could’ve you possibly done?
As soon as you parked up to your new shared house, Mason went straight to the front door. Another thing you found odd as he always opened the passenger door for you no matter what.
Was this a coincidence or was he actually mad at you?
You thought you overthinking this whole thing more than you should be, so you decided to leave it.
As soon as you got inside you rapidly took your heels off, relieved that now you were out of them because your feet were in pain the whole night. You don’t know why you did this to yourself every time.
You walked into the kitchen with Mason slowly following you behind. You got yourself a glass of water and while you were drinking it Mason came up behind you, his chest pressing against your back, moving your hair to the side, his arms gripping onto your waist and his head dipping into the crook of your neck, peppering light kisses on your sweet spot. You squirmed slightly because his stubble was tickling you, "you looked out of this world tonight, baby. You're mine. Mine only. Nobody else's. You're my girl." Mason started to get frustrated at how Jadon's words from earlier kept replaying in his mind at this specific moment. Mason couldn't help but get slightly overprotective and possessive over you. He knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt him but still he couldn't help his insecurities that got to the better of him.
“What’s gotten into you, Mase?” You playfully laughed at how his mood changed when you had entered your new home. Mason had ignored you and carried on kissing the crook of your neck just where your sweet spot is.
He knows what he’s doing
You had turned around to face him, causing him to stop with a little pout on his face. “Talk to me, bubs,” you softly spoke, his head down, grabbing your fingers to play with them that had settled him. He felt a little silly for what’s going to come out of his mouth next, but he needed to ask to reassure his doubts and insecurities. “Is there something going on between you and Jadon? You can be honest, I won’t be mad, I just want you to be honest with me,” you were taken back by his comments, how could he think that? You had no idea where this was coming from. “What? No!! Why would you even think that, Mase?” You asked a little surprised that out of all people Mason would think that.
“You can’t blame me for thinking that, you two looked a bit too close for my liking. You were laughing at everything he was saying, you never laugh at my jokes like that,” Mason raised his tone slightly, what Jadon had said to him earlier got into his head.
“Really, Mase? Is this what it’s all about? Not laughing at your jokes? He’s just a funny lad that’s all.” You looked down at your kitchen tiles, not wanting to look at him in the face right now.
“Does funny make you cum?” You shot your head up at that question, meeting your face with Mason’s rather serious face with his eyebrows raised.
“Mason, you’re staring to sound ridiculous now. Do I need to prove how much I love you? I thought moving here with you was enough to prove that.” The last sentence had just slipped out, you didn’t mean to sound like you were doing him a favour by moving here with him.
That felt like a slap in Mason’s face hearing that last sentence come out of your mouth, he was beyond pissed now.
When it was announced that Mason was leaving Chelsea and was starting his new life at Manchester United, Mason had sat you down and had asked you what you’d want to do, whether that was moving to Manchester with him or staying in London.
He had never put any pressure on you knowing that all your family and friends lived in London, he didn’t want you to regret moving in the future, so he let you take your time with deciding what you wanted.
What Mason wanted was a different story, he wanted you to move with him, but he didn’t want it to seem like you had to move with him, because the last thing he’d want is making it seem like you were doing him a favour by moving here.
And that’s exactly what you did.
“I NEVER FUCKING ASKED YOU TO DO THAT!!” Despite having a stern tone, Mason’s angry expression could be clearly seen through the tone of his voice.
“YEAH BECAUSE YOU NEVER NEEDED TO, I FOLLOWED YOU UP HERE BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, I DON’T EVER WANT ANYONE ELSE!” You said frustratedly, trying to prove to him that he’s the only one you want so when he made that accusation it hurt you deeply.
“YEAH, IT FUCKING LOOKED LIKE IT WHEN YOU HAD JADON HANGING OFF YOU ALL NIGHT!!” Mason couldn’t help but roll his eyes which annoyed you even further.
“OH FUCK YOU MASE, YOU’RE BEING SUCH A CHILD”
“OH FUCK ME, YEAH?”
“YEAH, FUCK YOU!!”
Mason rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t be arsed to deal with this anymore, so you went past him shoving his shoulder lightly, “I’m not dealing with this right now, I’m going up to bed,” you said to Mason as you walked out of the kitchen.
Mason grabbed your wrist and pulled you abruptly towards him, his grasp on your waist turned firm. His gaze bore into yours as his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. With no opportunity to catch your breath, the fervour of the kiss increased as Mason pressed you up against the kitchen door. The passionate kisses escalated as neither of you wanted to part.
You feel Mason passionately bringing his lips back to yours as you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck as he trails his lips to your collarbone. He mumbles jump against your skin as your heart races and your breathing quickens. His grip on your waist tightens even more than it was as he pushed your body against the cold wall.
You slightly start to grind against him clothed bulge desperately wanting to feel him, throwing your head back while Mason’s lips trail across your jaw and down your neck, nibbling in your sweet spot as he holds you tight. Now sucking on your sweet spot as he couldn’t help himself, you know a mark will be left there in the morning but right now you don’t care. You moan not being able to hold it in anymore, Mason pulls back to look at you, “those moans are only for me, do you understand that sweetheart?” The tone in his voice is deep, the look in his eye is quite dark, with a cocky expression on his face.
He was enjoying being in control way too much
He threw you over his shoulder and carried you upstairs to your shared bedroom, so he can have his way with you.
“Y/N, you’ve been a tease all night. Now this whole neighbourhood is going to hear you scream my name tonight, they’re all going to know you’re mine,” he growled with an air of dominance.
Mason wasted no time in stripping your clothes off
You shivered, nodding. He smirked, as he threw you onto the bed, now that you’re both naked you never got used to the sight of seeing Mason naked, you were speechless everytime, your eyes went straight to his boxers which he hadn’t taken off yet. Mason smirked cockily at your reaction, “Oh so now you want me, eyes up here sweetheart,” he smiled, before hovering over you and tipped your chin up so you could look at him in the eyes, looking into those lust eyes knowing how much he wants you fuck you right now, “get on your all fours for me, baby.” Mason winked, as you just got lost in his eyes before Mason spoke again “baby, I really don’t want to have to ask again,” which brought you back to reality and did what he said.
He wasn’t one to be reckoned with when he was like this
territorial & jealous
“Jadon said you were a good girl, but good girls go flirting around with other people do they?” He breathed, showing his jealous side which you quite clearly enjoyed seeing him like this.
“So that makes you a naughty girl, my naughty girl.”
He gave your ass a little slap, watching it bounce from the impact with a satisfied smirk. You flinched but you secretly loved how rough her was being, “this is what naughty girls deserve.”
Mason quickly stripped out of his boxers, rolling a condom onto his thick, throbbing erection, before lining himself up at your entrance and shoving it in abruptly. Causing you to gasp at the sudden burning. The burning quickly subsided as you adjusted to Mason’s size, still to this date you never got used to his size. He started thrusting fast and furiously, tugging on your hair and making you lift your head so he could leave hot, wet kisses on the side of your neck.
You grunted with each thrust, trying to hold yourself up as your arms weakened in pleasure, but it didn’t stop Mason. He pounded into you with all of his anger, all of his jealousy, all of his possessiveness. “You’re such a slut, flirting with my friends,” Mason adds, slapping your ass once again. You absolutely loved this side of him, already soaring towards your release. Loud moans and screams left your lips, his name falling from them like a prayer. Your whole body shook, and the headboard against the wall sounded like thunder from his forcefully it was rocking. Mason pulled you up on your knees, so your bodies were fully flesh against each other, but he didn’t slow down.
“You like that, sweetheart? You like my cock buried inside your sweet little pussy? I bet Jadon couldn’t fuck you like this?”Mason growled.
“No, just you,” you managed to choke out, dangerously close to your climax.
“Say it again, who makes you feel this good?” He demanded, his cockiness getting to him.
“You, Mase, only you!!” You cried out, orgasm crashing over you and Mason released at the same time as you, both of you sharing an intimate moment together.
You lay there breathless, and Mason parted your legs again.
“Mase?” You asked, trying to get your breath back.
“When you can’t walk tomorrow, I want you to remember how good my cock was inside you and how good my tongue is,” he grinned deviously
His tongue darted inside you, and you groaned in ecstasy, still sensitive from the rough fucking he’d just given you. He slipped two fingers inside you, pumping in and out quickly and mercilessly as his tongue worked magic on your clit, almost immediately bringing you to your second orgasm of the night.
Mason spent all night pleasuring you in multiple ways and by the time he was finished, you were completely exhausted. You couldn’t even move and your clit kept throbbing, your legs twitching from time to time.
Mason lazily left a soft kiss along the already formed hi keys on your skin. He smiled against your lips and then laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, so now your head was on his chest.
“You did so good, baby. You took it all like a pro,” he. complimented.
“Mhmm
 Hey, Mase. i just want to say I’m sorry-” you smiled, trying to apologise but you looked confused when he stopped you when he put his finger over your lips.
“Ah no, if anything I should be apologising to you, I’m sorry my doubts got to the better of me,” you smiled as he placed a kiss on your lips.
Mason chuckled as you quickly fell asleep in his arms, listening to him whisper how beautiful you are, how glad he was that you were his, and he doesn’t know what he did in life to get you. He truly felt like the luckiest man in the world.
Mason looked over at your sleeping figure, and thinking about the day when you both first met, how he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the crowd, effortlessly beautiful and how you’d never change anything from that day. It was the most perfect moment.
He was so thankful that his best friend and your best friend who joint heads together and set you two up, otherwise he wouldn’t be here where he was now.
-
Two years ago, you had met Mason during the EURO 2020, Sid had practically dragged you out of the house to watch the match, she was supporting her boyfriend Ben Chilwell, and you were actually off work for a change.
All you wanted to do was catch up on a Netflix series you had started watching but your best friend had other plans as soon as she’d known you were free. You hadn’t seen her in a few days and for you two that’s quite a while without seeing each other because you two at least see each other once a day, it would be nice to see her but just not a at a football match.
You weren’t interested in sports, you were clueless to even think about what was happening apart from the obvious points, that they have go get the ball in the opposite goals. In all honesty you found it boring, you once tried watching a football match at home with Sid and you fell asleep. Hence why you weren’t excited about this match.
You shoved on an England t- shirt you had from ages and paired it with ripped jeans, your hair loosely curled and you went for a natural make up look which consists of, a face tint, tiny bit of concealer to cover your horrendous eye bags, cream contour and cream blush, brown mascara to make it look more natural, laniege lip mask with a tiny bit of brown lip liner and you finished it off with the Charlotte Tilbury setting spray to lock it all in so it could last the whole day.
Once you had arrived at the stadium, you walked down to your seats which were the best in the whole stadium, that was the only good thing about Sid being a WAG. Even so, apart from the occasional teasing, you were happy that she found someone who cares for her and makes her happy.
It would be nice if you could look a bit more lively, don't you think?” Sid said as she settled down into her chair and started to get comfortable. As a response, you simply glared at her, knowing you'd rather be in bed right now, but you couldn't do anything besides try to enjoy the game now that you were here despite the fact that you'd prefer to be in bed.
—
Mason was warming up when he spotted you, he got lost in thought and didn’t hear what Benwas saying to him, “helloooo earth to Mase,” he snapped his fingers in front of his face that brought him back to reality.
“What got you into dreamland, you were looking over at the box? It better not be my missus,” Ben said, getting protective over his girl. Mason raised his eyebrow, “what no?! I’m happy for you two mate I wouldn’t get in the way of you two. I was wondering who’s next to her, I never seen her before,” Mason replied, his cheeks turning pink.
“Aww, does Masey have a little crush,” Ben teased, making Mason laugh and playfully push him. “Nah mate. It’s not like that, I was just wondering who she was that’s all,” Mason cheekily smiled. “The slight blush on your cheeks says something else,” Mason glared at him as he still didn’t answer Mason’s question, “Alright alright! She’s Sid’s best friend, she rarely comes out of her house, hence why you haven’t seen her.” Mason just nodded before getting back to warming up.
Ben wasn’t wrong, you were a homebody as you liked to call it. You just enjoyed being in the comfort of your own home, there was just nothing else like it. What also didn’t help is that you were a massive introvert, you only spoke to people you knew comfortably so if anyone came up to you in public and asked you something you’d panic because quite frankly you didn’t know how to hold a conversation, you found it always being awkward and you hated the atmosphere and working from home didn’t help your communication skills. You thought you were getting social anxiety but you didn’t want to self diagnose yourself.
Mason, however, couldn’t keep his eyes off you. It’s like his eyes kept automatically directing him up to where you were sitting. He thought you were one of the most beautiful women he’s laid eyes on, the way your hair elegantly fell into place without even trying, and your smile? He thought he fell in love at first sight.
He knew you were different.
Different from other girls.
As soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew that you would be a genuine person, and he wasn't sure how to explain it, but he knew deep within his heart that he had to find out just for himself whether or not this was true.
After the match, he followed Ben was going to see his girlfriend, he was excited to see you up close. If you had looked good from far away, he bet that you’d look even more attractive up close.
And he was right
You looked even better up close if that was even possible
—
While the match was going on you couldn’t help but keep your eyes focused on the number 19, your eyes followed everywhere he went. You couldn’t help but admire the way he was playing and you had no clue about the sport.
There was one moment that would stay engraved in your brain, he got angry at a player and started swearing at him. You didn’t know if it was normal to feel like this, you started to daydream a fantasy you thought that would never happen. You hadn’t thought you were daydreaming until Sid snapped her fingers to get you back into the zone.
“Is someone starting to form a crush,” she said playfully wiggling her eyebrows, and you brushed it off like it was nothing, “pfft no, you know me and crushes never went well,” there was truth in what you said.
You’d always find yourself crushing on someone who would never look twice at you, that was the sad reality and with Mason Mount who’s a premier league footballer, there was no chance he’d even take a look at me.
“Well this could go well, if someone puts a word in?”
You eyes went wide, shaking your head, “You dare and I’ll hate you forever,” you say sternly, you didn’t want to make the first move. In your head if someone had their eyes on you, they should make the move instead of you making the first move.
That way you don’t embarrass yourself.
So if Mason did ever have feelings for you, which you doubted, he should make the first move. Besides the fact that now he’s on the pitch playing, he could make a move after if he ever did have feelings.
You spent another 45 mins practically drooling over him. That was until after the game you could see him and Chilly, Sid’s boyfriend walking to the pair of you. You felt panic wash over you.
You turned to Sid with a panicky expression, “omg he’s coming over, what do I say? How do I act? Do I look fine?” You had a load of questions.
“First of all my love, relax. I thought you didn’t have a crush on him?” You glare at her because now was not the time. “Okay, Okay! You look perfect as always, and don’t think of what to say, let the conversation flow naturally. That way is always the best,” she gives you a heartwarming smile.
You didn’t think someone could look so perfect up close but that was the case with Mason.
You were really deep into this and you hadn’t even chatted to him.
You don’t know why you were panicking because you two hit it off really well, you did as Sid said and let the conversation flow and it did you wonders because you managed you bag yourself a date.
-
One date turned into two dates, two dates turned into three etc, 3 months into the relationship you became his girlfriend, 6 months in you said your ‘I love yous’ and the rest became history.
-
He didn’t know how he got so lucky to have you but he’d forever be thankful for God for sending you into his life. You’d been there for him for the toughest moments in his life. He’s forever appreciative of you.
masonmount added to their story
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You are my one in 7 Billion! đŸ€
declanrice replied: still two years later you are actually whipped bro
*masonmount liked this message*
-> masonmount: there’s no way I’d rather have it and you can’t talk, you are just as bad đŸ‘ŠđŸ»đŸ€Ł
-
He laughed at Declan’s message as it had come through in his notifications, he wasn’t wrong in what he said. Him and Declan used to dream of the day settling down with their person, their forever, and it feels like it’s finally happening and he couldn’t be more glad. If he was called whipped so be it, if it makes you happy that’s all he wanted.
Our relationship was nowhere near perfect as no relationship is, and tonight was a good example of it. However no matter how many times you two had disagreements and at the time didn’t see the good side of things, Mason always thought that arguing would somewhat make the connection stronger.
He lifted his head slightly to look at your sleeping figure, trying not to move too harshly as he didn’t want to wake you up, you looked too comfortable and adorable to move. He placed multiple light kisses on your temple. He took one deep look at you, smiled to himself thinking how he was so lucky to have you and how he’s so in love with you and he wouldn’t change that for the world.
You were his forever and he was yours.
He finally drifted off to sleep, feeling content and safe. His worries were forgotten, and his mind was at ease. With a peaceful expression on his face, he slept with a huge grin on his face.
The next morning you woke up to Mason staring at you lovingly, his smile reaching his eyes and his dimples fell into place, even in the mornings he looked so effortlessly handsome.
“Morning handsome,” you kissed him softly as you greeted him good morning. He smiled at you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You both held each other for a moment, taking in the peacefulness of the morning. You felt a warmth inside your chest that could only be described as love.
Mason smiled down at you, his voice still thick with sleep, “good morning beautiful,” he murmured as you just smiled at him, giving him a soft kiss on his lips and he dips his head into your neck.
You stayed in bed for a little while he was placing kisses every so often whether that was on your forehead, neck or the side of your head. You had to get up soon though because Mason had training and you wanted to make him breakfast before he left.
The two of you had breakfast together, enjoying every second of it until he had to say his goodbyes giving you a kiss before he left.
While he was gone you decided to call your best friend, Sid, because she was coming down to Manchester to see you. You had dinner booked in the evening which you couldn’t wait for, because it felt like an eternity since you saw her.
The day had gone by so quick as you were mostly cleaning the whole day but the time had come to get ready for this evening.
You had to rush because you hadn’t been keeping on an eye on the time and you hated yourself for it because you wanted to take your time to get ready and actually feel good for once and whenever you tend to rush you always end up not liking your makeup and then your mood gets ruined but you were convinced no one can ruin your mood because you were off to see your bestfriend and that put you in a good mood.
You were originally going to get a taxi but Mason being the gentleman he is offered to drop you off which worked for you but you didn’t want to bother him because of his long day at training.
-
You think you actually screamed when you saw Sid, running up to hug her which you hadn’t done in almost two weeks, you felt emotional being reunited again. No one told you how hard it was going to be with now a long distance bestie.
You caught up on each others gossip, on what you had missed and catching up on daily life.
When the two of you were younger you both dreamed of being a footballers girlfriend, you don’t know why but the thought of it sounded so appealing,
“Toast to our younger selves who would be so proud of us right now.” Sid said, putting both of your glasses up to raise a toast. Which you cheered to, for once you felt happy about where you were in life right now. The fact that both you and Sid were happy together made the feeling even more special.
We were both where we needed to be in life and you were so glad.
-
yourusername added to their story
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Dinners with my girl @sid.vii đŸ„°đŸ€­
sid.vii replied to your story: I love and miss you already â˜čïžđŸ’˜
-> a few hours wasn’t enough. I love you and miss you loads đŸ˜©đŸ’•
masonmount replied to your story: the two of you are trouble when you’re together. p.s you look beautiful đŸ€©
-> 😉 love you 💘
sanchooo10 replied to your story: you look beautiful! đŸ˜»
-> Thank you!
-
You and Sid had shared a taxi back to her hotel before the driver made another stop to take you back home. It was originally your intention for her to stay at yours and masons shared house, but she was being a bit stubborn and booked a hotel room in the hotel for the two nights instead of staying at your house. She had a train booked back to London early morning so you didn’t want to stay out too late either because both of you loved your sleep too much.
You didn’t know when you’d see her again and you hated the circumstances for being this way but you were also grateful that Mason was happy and that’s all that mattered to you. You can’t lie, you felt a little emotional saying goodbye to her, even you’d text every second of the day, there was nothing like seeing your friends in real life.
You smiled at her interaction at your story. Although you found it weird that Jadon had replied to your story but brushed it off thinking that he was being friendly with you and replied because you didn’t want to seem rude.
Part of you didn’t know whether to mention this to Mason or not, considering you had an argument about it the other day. You didn’t want to have any arguments today, you just wanted to go home and cuddle with the love of your life.
As soon as you got home all you wanted was Mason, you had missed him even though it was a quarter of the night you hadn’t seen him.
You found him in the living room, curled up on the sofa with a blanket on him, on his phone scrolling while the tv was on in the background not being looked at, just there for the noise. He hadn’t noticed you had come back until you stood in front of him, he peered up to look at you through his lashes, “hey you. You have a good night?” Mason asks while moving the blanket and patting his hand on his knee indicating you to sit on his lap.
You felt yourself go soft at the sight of him, it was quite cold out there so all you wanted to do was to cuddle up against him while you fall asleep in the warmth of his arms around you the whole night.
“I did. it was nice seeing Sid again after two weeks, that seems like a long time I’ve gone without her and it feels weird to say because we are normally joined by the hip,” you said a little deflated as got comfortable on his lap.
“That’s good! As you long you enjoyed yourself baby!” Mason said enthusiastically as he moves your hair to the side leaving your right shoulder bare for him to kiss. You had given him a rundown on what happened the entire evening and he every so often lifted his head up from your neck to kiss your forehead in a soft gesture.
That was until you stopped talking to see he had fallen asleep and because you didn’t want him to ruin his sleep downstairs you gently woke him up, “Mase, go to bed. I’ll be up once I’ve make sure everything’s locked,” you said before getting off his lap and going to the front door to make sure it was locked.
When you had come back to the living room, you’d seen that he had listened and went up to bed, before you went up you went to check all the windows were locked too.
You always had to double check it was locked otherwise god forbid if anything was to happen, the blame would have landed on you. You felt yourself shudder thinking about it.
As you had entered your shared bedroom, you flopped on the bed feeling exhausted after the day you had. Mason was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.
Once you looked up to see he was done, he was standing there completely shirtless and in boxers, still to this day you never got used to this image that was in front of you. You felt like you were gazing in dreamland, with a a lttle drool coming by the side of your mouth. You didn't realise you had zoned out until he spoke, "take a picture, it will last longer," he winked.
You rolled your eyes at his comment, as you got off the bed to go to the en suite to take off your makeup. You took off your lashes which felt like a relief taking them off, and grabbed your cleansing balm to melt your makeup off, to finally be make up free.
Your phone buzzed which was on the bed where you were laying a few minutes ago, so you told Mason to check it
You and Mason trusted each other with your phones, it’s not like either of you had anything to hide.
His heart had dropped with what he saw. He had a million questions running through his mind right now.
Why was he messaging you?
What were you two speaking about?
He had thought the worst by a single notification.
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Mason stayed quiet while his mind was thinking overtime, he was wondering whether to mention this to you or if he should stay silent and wait to see if you say something.
You entered back in the bedroom done with your nighttime routine, getting into bed where Mason was sat, his head resting on the headboard.
“Who was the notification from?” You asked him as you got comfortable in your bed. He didn’t respond, he just handed you the phone with an unimpressed expression. You just looked down to see that Jadon had liked your message.
“Oh,” you mumble silently
“Did you forget to tell me or were you even planning on telling me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Mase, you’re overreacting! If you looked at the messages you’d realise it’s nothing!” You raise your voice a little because you were tired of arguing over the same thing.
“Oh? I’m overreacting? Me!!” Mason matches the same tone as yours.
“C’mon Mase, actually read the messages,”
“No, I’ve seen what I’ve needed to, that’s enough!”
You try to hand your photo to him while unlocking your phone to show him the full chat, but he wasn’t having it. He pushed your arm away. He had to exhale before he said the next sentence.
“Listen if you don’t want to be with me, you can just tell me outright. You don’t have to go behind my-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” You interrupted him. You were tired of going round in circles and ending up in the same place. You thought after yesterday he would’ve understood that you only want him.
“Do I need to prove how much I love you? If I didn’t I wouldn’t have wanted to start a new life with you up here, moving with you.”
There it was again
Bringing up the move constantly after every argument.
He looked at you deep in the eye, eyes filled with tiredness and anger, not only he was tired about having to argue about this whole situation about million times but he also felt insecure every time this was brought up.
“Do you need to fucking bring up the move every time? I’m so grateful that you moved up here with me but I don’t need you throwing that comment in my face every time. As well as you i’ve left everything back in London too. You don’t need to make this about you 24/7!!” Mason snapped
He regretted that comment right after it was said, he got off the bed and rushed looking for his top.
“I need fresh air, I’m going for a walk to clear my mind.” Mason says rushing out of the bedroom quickly putting his top on, by the time you were about to speak, it was almost too late as you heard a loud slam from the door.
-
He always thought you were almost too perfect to be with him. Out of his league. Thinking that you could do so much better than him. He had trauma and doubts from his previous relationship, which was what left him with the doubts.
He felt the cold breeze of air hit him while he took a walk around his quiet estate. He didn’t know where he was walking but he just carried on to see where his feet take him.
Remembering what went wrong in his previous relationship to help save this one, he felt like your relationship was failing and the last thing he wanted to do was to lose you.
You meant the world to him and he couldn’t risk losing you and he was so appreciative that you wanted to move up with him, but he didn’t need you constantly nagging at him like you’ve done a massive favour.
It doesn’t count as a favour when it’s for the people you love
Even thinking about it made him feel sick
It was about three years ago when he met his ex Molly, which he met at a club, mistaking her for someone else. They had hit it off straightaway. During the night Mason thought that he had found his partner for life already, which was obviously wrong but he had the wrong first impressions of her.
They had decided to go out for a date and take it from there to see how it goes. It went great, or so he thought.
He decided to give this girl a chance as she seemed genuine and didn’t seem like the girl to fuck about.
Look can be deceiving
It was about 3 months into the relationship, it wasn’t all rainbows and sunshine. In fact it wasn’t at all. During the first month he noticed on his free days she’d rather spend time with her girl mates and if that wasn’t an option she’d make some sort of excuse.
She was in for one thing only
Fame
Molly obviously knew who Mason was the second they started talking, her and her friends and come up with a cunning plan. All Molly wanted to become was an influencer, so she took the chance and took it. She thought if she’d act like she’s interested in him, it would get her the followers she’d need and then once she’d have enough, she’d come up with a sob story to say this isn’t working.
In her little world things were going well for her until one afternoon Mason was home earlier than she had expected and the night before she had stayed over his after a night out because it was closer to him. Once Mason had stepped into his house, he was eager to see his girlfriend. They were in the ‘honeymoon’ stage so they are bound to be excited, well at least one of them.
As soon as he got closer to his bedroom door where Molly was, he heard her over the phone talking to one her friends what it sounded like. “Yeah babe, he won’t find anything out. Bless him he thinks I actually like him,” that was the sentence that broke him.
Molly’s true intentions were revealed and he hated how he fell into this trap.
Once Mason had found out what Molly’s plans were, he wasted no time in telling her to get the fuck out of his house and his life.
To say Mason was devastated was an understatement, he kept thinking about how he lets people in so easily, this whole situation got him feeling shit and insecure.
He promised himself that he wouldn’t trust someone so easily again.
However no matter how shit his past was, he should've never treated you like that. He made a promise to not let his insecurities get to the better of him. No matter how bad the situation is and you two should just talk like grown adults you are. He knew you were tired of this bullshit too.
This late night walk did his mind wonders, he saw a Tesco nearby and decided to pop in to get you some flowers to help lighten the mood as you both didn’t help by all the shouting. Sometimes leaving your mind alone to think works magic and gives you time to reflect on what you both could’ve said to handle the situation better, but in this heat of the moment things get said which you both regret.
As he walked into the shared house, he rushed upstairs with the flowers in his hand ready to give them to you, he was praying that you hadn’t gone to sleep because he was told not to sleep on an argument as the next day wasn’t guaranteed.
He walked into to your shared bedroom only to be met with an empty bed. There was only one other place he thought you could be.
The guest bedroom
In previous house together, whenever the two of you would get into a heated argument, Y/N would always go to the guest bedroom indicating that she needs space before the argument gets pretty ugly.
And that’s exactly what she needed tonight
He couldn’t blame you
He needed to stop letting his past get to him so easily, just because one person made him feel easy doesn’t mean that you’d be the same. In fact he knew you wouldn’t do the same.
Maybe he needed to tell you to help overcome the doubts that he had and that it would make you understand why he’s like this.
-
After Mason had left furiously, slamming the door behind, you had guilt inside of you. You should’ve told him even if it was a minor thing, you didn’t want to be the one that kept secrets from him.
You wanted him to trust you
But also him accusing you of talking to other people when you’re happier than you’ve ever been with him deeply hurt you because you had thought better of him, and you didn’t think he’d stoop that low to accuse you of something like that.
Both of you were in the wrong
You needed to find a way to communicate with each other better.
You went to sleep in the guest bedroom, you thought it would the best thing you both needed, just a night alone away from each other to clear each others minds
Sleep wasn’t coming easy to you, you were tossing and turning every few minutes, your mind at unease because you wanted to know where Mason was, ‘when’s he coming back?’
These questions didn’t stop spiralling in your head, you began to overthink as time went on, such as ‘what if he’s had enough and wants to break up with you?’ which then went to ‘you don’t know how to manage life without him’
It sounds stupid but you didn’t know how to cope without him
It wasn’t long until tears started forming in the corner of your eyes, the more you imagined life without him you convinced yourself that wouldn’t ever heal. Tears now rolling down your cheeks, soaking the pillow.
A short while after your little breakdown, the guestroom door creaked opened and you obviously it’s going to be Mason so you pretended to be asleep but Mason knew you too well, he knew well enough that you weren’t asleep.
Mason crouched down to the side you were sleeping on, he noticed the dried tear tracks on your face straight away, he hated seeing you upset anyway but knowing he possibly made you cry broke his heart.
He didn’t ever want to be the reason for your tears and he promised you from the start that he’ll always keep you happy but he had failed you.
The flowers now sitting on the bedside table unnoticed. Mason pushed your hair out of your face ever so gently, caressing your cheek.
“C’mon baby, I know you’re not sleep. I think you forget I know you too well.” He chuckled a little to ease the tension
You smiled lightly at his comment and fluttered your eyes open, meeting your eyes with his beautiful lust eyes. He smiled at the sight of you “there’s my beautiful girl.”
You couldn’t help but blush almost forgetting about what happened in the last hour.
“I think we should talk,” Mason’s tone sounded desperate, he felt sorrowful. Your heart had dropped on the tone of his voice, you thought this was it.
He’s going to break up with you.
Mason noticed your mood change when he spoke, he got himself from the crouched position and sat himself on the side of the bed gently moving your legs so he could sit properly and comfort you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, pulling you up and embracing you with his arms around you. “Nothing” your voice had cracked, as you weren’t sure if you could say more without crying. You hid yourself in his neck, your shaking shoulders gave it away, he clung onto you tighter rubbing your back to comfort you.
“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He spoke softly kissing the side of your head every now and then
“Don’t leave me,” you thought you were overreacting but you didn’t know what he was going to come out with.
“Where has that come from? What makes you think I’m going to leave you? Do you know how much you mean to me? I could never live a day without you, you’re my forever baby,” he felt himself choke on the last sentence, even thinking about leaving made him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.
“What do you want to talk to me about then?” You sniffed, feeling stupid that he wanted to speak to you about something else, making a fool out of yourself for no reason.
“I wanted to tell you something. The main reason why I have doubts and feel insecure when you’re talking to other men. I know I shouldn’t have any right to say anything when you don’t have any problem with me talking to women. It should work both ways, so this is fair.”
As he took a deep breath, he recounted the story of how he met Molly and how things went down from the beginning to the end. To say that you were angry would be a major understatement. How could somebody even have the audacity to be so blatant about treating someone like this? It had angered you to find out that she had treated your man in such a way. Your anger was bubbling up inside of you, but on your face was a soft expression as you were trying to comfort him, as you could tell it was still hurting him. It’s like he was traumatised by this and you couldn’t blame him.
This girl seemed like a massive bitch by her actions, if you had ever crossed paths with her you would make sure she be sorry for being a bitch. You were deeply hurt the fact that she made Mason feel like this.
“Every time I look at you, I just think god I must have done something right to gain an angel like you, I don’t deserve you.” Mason’s voice cracked, trying to blink away the tears and it tore you apart seeing him like this. He’s been through enough already.
“Woah, you gotta stop there bub. Don’t you dare say anything bad about yourself, because you’re truly the best thing that happened to me. I’m so grateful Sid managed to drag me out of the house and go to the match otherwise we wouldn’t have crossed paths. You have a heart of gold, you’re so self less. You put other people first when it should be the other way babe. Put yourself first! People who take advantage of you don’t deserve in the fucking slightest. If I ever meet this bitch she’d better run because she doesn’t know what’s coming. I’d have to get the big guns out,” you tried to lighten the situation and it worked because he gave you a smile that will always make you weak in the knees.
“I think even if you didn’t go to the match we would’ve still found our way to each other because we’re meant to be. You are my forever,” he says ever so proudly with his eyes twinkling.
“I love you!”
“I love you too, so much!”
The two of you spent a few minutes appreciating each others presence in comfortable silence, placing a few kisses on each other. It was only then you realised the flowers that were sitting on the bedside table, you looked at him in surprise, “you got these for me?” you questioned.
“Oh shit I forgot to give you them,” he slapped his forehead in playful manner which made you giggle. “But yes I did baby, it’s been a while since I got you flowers,” you heart warmed at the gesture.
“Just when I thought I couldn’t get anymore luckier,” you blushed. Mason just smiled, giving you a kiss on the lips as a response.
You two spent the whole night like that, curled up with your head on his chest while his hands rested under your shirt, his fingers stoking up and down your stomach.
Holding each other close the whole night.
-
It had been a few days since that night and you were going out tonight Mason and his teammates.
Over the last few days, you two just decided to get off whatever was on your chest so you two could start fresh with the move and everything.
You had agreed to block Jadon too, after what Mason told you what he said to him the other night. You didn’t feel comfortable talking to him anymore.
Tonight he was going to be there too which is going to be awkward but with Mason by your side you’re sure you’ll get through it.
So here you were, sat in a dim restaurant waiting for the food you ordered a few minutes ago. Mason placed his hand on your thigh and you didn’t think much of it until it had started wandering up your thighs and under your dress. “Keep quiet,” he whispered, smiling innocently giving the impression that you two were talking about something ordinary.
“Mason, behave,” you replied, glaring at him slightly as your cheeks heat up at the feeling of his fingertips on your inner thigh.
“Seeing as he can’t keep his eyes off you, he deserves to know what’s mine and what he’ll only ever dream off,” Mason said with a smirk on his face.
It was evident to a bird that Jadon had his eyes on you since you walked in with Mase, at first glance you thought it was a friendly thing but the more you saw him glancing at you the more you felt slightly uncomfortable. You were grateful to have Mason by your side even though he was good at teasing you.
He began touching you through the fabric of your underwear, gently pressing his hand against your groin, which made you flinch and if you hadn’t been in public, you would’ve gasped.
Mason turned back to his teammates, engaging in their conversation while acting like nothing happened. The moment he pushed your underwear to the side and started rubbing your clit in circular motions you reflexively clenched your legs together, but Mason was quick to spread your legs again.
You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your hardest to hold back a moan when he inserted two fingers and slowly pumped them in and out while caressing your clit with his free fingers. He kept doing this at a steady slow pace that he knew drove you crazy every time he chose to give you an even more intense feeling by not speeding it up like you wanted.
Just when it was getting even more difficult to not make a sound, Mason directed a question at you, knowing full well that you weren’t able to speak without making ungodly noises that would get you all kicked out from this restaurant before you even got your food. You glared at your boyfriend because he knew what he was doing and it was frustrating you, if only you could let him have his way with you right here.
Mason smirked and continued moving his fingers around your clit, speeding up just a little, “ Are you okay, Y/N?” Luke asked slightly worried.
You simply nodded and forced yourself to smile, pretty sure that if you spoke now, you couldn’t pull yourself together. Since Mason started, he didn’t shown any sign of excitement or shame whatsoever, joking around with his teammates like everything was normal, as if he wasn’t fingering you under the table. He curled his fingers to massage your sensitive spot, all while keeping a straight face.
You breathing got heavier as you were getting closer and closer to your climax, but all of a sudden Mason pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging before you could reach your orgasm. The moment you realised he wasn’t going to finish you off, you reached down, ready for the job yourself, but grabbed your wrist and gave you an assertive look, silently telling you to wait.
You cleared your throat before excusing yourself from the table, squeezing your thigh to signal him to follow you inconspicuously, pushing your chair back to stand up and walking in direction to the bathrooms.
A few minutes later, he came in with a cheeky grin on his face after he closed the door behind him. You crashed your lips into his, kissing him forcefully as you couldn’t wait anymore.
“Fucking finish what you started,” you muttered as you broke away. Mason kneeled on the floor, pushing your underwear down and pushing your dress up so he can get a full view of you.
He grips you by the hips and then cranes his neck forward to kiss and lick between your thighs, tongue gliding between the folds of your pussy, in a way that makes you ache for him even more desperately.
You pull him up to stand, so you can reach for his jeans, unbuckling that belt and zipper without breaking eye contact. His arms are on the wall behind you, caging you in and he’s smirking. You know how much he loves this, having you undress him.
Once your hands are free, he emerged forward, his body pressing you against the sink, “turn around for me, bub. It’s going to be hard and fast, just like you need it. Isn’t that right?”
“Please,” you say eagerly
You shiver as you feel and hear him take himself into his hand, he spits on his cock and then there’s the wet, push and pull sound of him jerking himself off. It gives you goosebumps. You widen your stance, trying to balance yourself on your heels, and he presses a soothing hand against your back to keep you still as he slides inside of you in one smooth movement.
Oh my god. You want to scream in relief. He feels so much deeper from this angle. Heavier. Bigger. Like you can feel him in your stomach.
Mason's hand clings to yours as he bends you over in front of the sink, his fingers grasping your knuckles while he bends you over, holding on to your knuckles. From this angle, you feel impossibly full.
He kisses the naked skin of your back and throat where your dress is exposed, you grin meeting his face in the mirror.
His hands don’t stop, constantly groping your breasts. His mouth hot and wet on your neck.
Your eyes flutter close, you love how low his voice gets when he’s this deep. It feels good. Feels like someone is touching you from inside out, being with him is consuming. You want him. All of him. All the time. Everywhere.
“Feels so good, Mase,” you whimper as you grind back against him, your skin singing with relief at finally feeling satisfied.
When you finally open your eyes you moan again at the sight of Mason reflected back on the glass in front of you. He’s leaving indents on your skin, hickey that you’ll worry about in the morning. The best part is watching him fuck you.
He looks beautiful, sliding his tongue over his mouth, biting into his lips as he loses himself in staring at how your pussy and his cock work together. Watching himself disappear inside of you with each stutter and thrust of his hips. When he looks up to find you staring at him through the reflection, he smiles so wide and so soft that it makes you tighten around him.
“Mase,” you whimper, wanting to say more but your words got caught in your throat. He feels unbelievably good.
He gathers you closer and sneaks his fingers into the space between your thighs and starts rubbing your swollen clit with two fingers. Your elbows almost losing their balance when touching you, the sensation makes you feel like your knees could buckle.
“Oh my god! Mase-”
“You gonna cum for me baby? Gonna coat my cock with your cum?”
“Yes, only for you Mase!”
You felt a stinging sensation on your scalp where he reaches to tug on your hair. Your spine has no choice but to arch back. The best kind of pain.
“I’m going to make you come so hard, but you need to stay with me okay, angel?” You grit your teeth on a particularly hard thrust.
“I need you to come for me,” Mason says, desperately wanting to feel you cum for him.
Your body obeys him before your mind can think, you’re so weak for him, your shoulders are shaking from the effort of not trying to scream his name.
Mason grips your face gently, as if he could recognise how torn you feel. “That’s it baby. My good girl. Did so well for me angel. Gonna make me come too.”
“Yes! Come for me Mase, I want to feel it-”
And that’s what always does it.
You begging him. He can never resist the ache in your voice. He moans into your mouth as he lets himself go. You talk him through it too, telling how much you love him, how good he looks when he comes, how you wanna feel it deep. His cock is pulsing when he’s done and how he lets go of your lips as his neck rolls back and tries catching his breath. His release settling inside you that makes you feel soothed.
“Fucking hell,” he laughs, sinking his weight onto you, loving the feeling of him against your back. “I’m so glad you’re mine. I get to fuck you for the rest of my life, how lucky am I?” Mason chuckles.
“You tease, and yet I thought you loved me for my brain,” you turned around to place your head on his chest and hugged him.
“Oh believe me I love that too! You don’t understand how sexy is when you turn into a sexy know it all,” Mason winks, placing his head in the crook of your neck, kissing it innocently.
You roll your eyes at his comment. “Come on, let’s go before they suspect anything,” you try to push him off but he wasn’t letting you go. “Masonnnn,” you groan longing out his name. “Fine, but gimme a kiss first,” you roll your eyes at his neediness. You gave into him and you should’ve known he was going to push this kiss deeper than intended. You pull away, “uh uh that’s enough mister,” he gives you a fake sad expression but you weren’t falling for that. He leaned in again but you moved your head so instead his lips met your cheek. He gave you a pout, “Listen if he start again now, we’re never going to stop. I’ll give you what you want when we’re home.”
Instantly his mood changed into a quirkier mood. He grabbed your hand and led you out of the bathroom, “We’re going home,” his pace started to get faster but you suddenly stopped him in the middle of the hall way, “what about your teammates? it’s a bit rude if we leave now,” you said not wanting to leave half way through as it seemed rude.
Mason placed a finger to lips “shh. I’ll just tell them you were being sick or something and speaking of rudeness, wasn’t it rude when you were begging me to fuck you under the table while my teammates were there?” He cockily said, smirking.
Well that certainly shut you up
“That’s what I thought.” He continued his pace until he reached the table you had sat at. “Sorry guys, but we have to go. Y/n’s not feeling well, she just threw up in the toilets,” you wanted to laugh at how much of a good liar he is but you couldn’t otherwise that would have ruined your ‘evening plans’
They all looked at you with a sympathetic look in their eyes clearly believing Mason. You found it hard enough to keep a straight face and when they all looked at you, you wanted to start laughing but you needed to hold them in
Marcus started off saying “Mate don’t be sorry, you’ve got priorities! We completely understand!!” He said enthusiastically following along with the others who were agreeing. You all said your goodbyes and Mason was eager enough to get out of this restaurant.
You reached the car park walking to his car that he had pushed you against as he pulled you close and your lips met in a passionate kiss that seemed to last forever, completely oblivious of the fact that you were in public.
Mason pulled away, “As much as I’d love to do this, we have to remember we’re in public and I really don’t want to wake up to the sun articles saying ‘Mason Mount was caught snogging his girlfriends face off’. I can just picture it” You laughed at him mocking the sun articles which would probably most likely be true.
“I promise to fuck you until you see the stars tonight,” he promises with a wink as he kisses one last time. Now you are eager to get home to see Mason obey what he promised you.
Mason had found the quicker route home, while you couldn’t keep his hands off him. Him speeding because he couldn’t wait to touch you, making love to you the whole night.
You were in for a night of fun ahead of you..
masonmount
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masonmount Forever Mine ♄
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yourusername Forever & Always! đŸ˜šâ€ïž
1 HOUR AGO
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starkwlkr · 8 months ago
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silver springs | mark webber
thanks to everyone who voted! like my seb fic, this will only have three parts
part 2 part 3
warning: cheating
requests are closed
INSTRAGRAM
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yourusername congratulations oscarpiastri on your incredible sprint race win! first win in f1, but it won’t be the last!
oscarpiastri ❀
papayafans481 DESERVED
teampiastri did anyone see the interview with david coulthard and mark webber?😭
leclerctears what happened??
teampiastri david kept bringing up y/n and mark couldn’t even say her name đŸ„Č he said mclaren team principal when referring to her
lewis8wdc what the fuck happened between them?đŸ€š i know they dated I’m guessing they ended on bad terms
op81xx girl they were gonna get married 😭 mark had the ring and even asked y/n’s family for their blessing there’s a thread on twitter about them
aussiegrit ❀
multi21bitch you ain’t slick old man đŸ€š
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UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX
Lando had scored a podium finish while Oscar had unfortunately suffered a DNF. After the podium ceremony, you were on your way back to the Mclaren garage when you heard a familiar voice. Mark was speaking with Fernando when you had walked by them. It had been years since you were that close to Mark. Of course he was in the Mclaren garage since he was Oscar’s manager, but you were a pro at avoiding Mark Webber.
You kept walking and finally made it to the garage where you congratulated the team for their effort.
“When was the last time she spoke to you?” Fernando questioned the Aussie. He was great friends with both you and Mark. He was one of many that thought you two would end up getting married. He was utterly shocked when Mark had told him that you were no longer together.
“March twenty fifth twenty thirteen. She blocked my number, she told me I couldn’t contact any of her family members either.” He explained. “I fucked up my life, Fernando.”
No one apart from Mark and you knew the reason for the break up.
“What did you do?”
“I hurt her. After Malaysia happened, y/n tried to comfort me, but I pushed her away. I stayed in the paddock late while y/n was already in our hotel room waiting for me, i told her to just go to sleep but she never listens. I was on my way back and I decided to go to a bar and I met a woman there. . . ”
It didn’t take a genius to know what would happen next.
“Shit, Mark.” Fernando mumbled.
“That’s not even the worst part, mate. I came back to our hotel room in the morning and she had her suitcase packed. She was going back home. The woman I was with had texted her from my phone and told her everything.” Mark remembered that night all too well. “She told me she never wanted to see me again . . .”
“Funny how that turned out.”
“But she also told me something else. Her doctor had called her a few days ago and told her she was pregnant. I fucked up my life all because I got mad at the result of a stupid race!”
Like everything else in the paddock, Mark’s words didn’t stay a secret for long. A rumor confirmed true traveled fast.
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yourprivate happy birthday, my darling 🎀✹ i look forward to your sidewalk chalk artwork everyday ❀
susie_wolff she’s getting so big! happy birthday!
yourprivate i’m not ready for her to grow anymoređŸ„č
clairewilliams_official what an artist!❀
yourprivate my own little picasso ❀
zbrownceo happy birthday 🎂 i hope she enjoyed all the gifts the team and i sent
yourprivate she loved every single one, thank you!
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joelalorian · 6 months ago
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Fevered Flame
Marcus Pike x F!Reader
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Summary: When Marcus Pike lost himself in work after that debacle with Theresa, he didn’t expect to take on a sizzling new case in the quirky town of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. Nor did he expect to meet you, an up-and-coming agent also looking for a fresh start. An unprecedented heatwave, mind-boggling art thefts, ancient Aztec legends, this case had the works. How would he ever solve the case with the temperature rising between you both?
This fic is my contribution to @iamasaddie's Little Lady Kinky May writing challenge. Prompts were Marcus Pike and Temperature. This is my first time writing Marcus Pike and I hope I did him justice. I learned a few things about myself during this process, the most important being that I am incapable of writing porn without plot, or a romantic angle, apparently. This story turned out waaaaay different than intended because of that. I apologize now for the plot heaviness between sexy bits.
WC: 10.4k – I’m sorry, I have no idea where all these words came from
Warnings: Explicit 18+, too much plot, heat making people cray cray, sexy sweatiness, lots of cursing (I’m from New Jersey, I can’t help it), nonsensical crime stuff, a plot that came straight outta left field, protected and unprotected sex (p in v), pussy eating and cock sucking, inappropriate use of an ice cube and hot springs. No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname and boobs, otherwise, I tried to keep her a blank slate. Some terms of endearment. IDK, there’s probably more but I can’t think right now.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this utter ridiculousness. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Moodboard by me.
Masterlist
Still reeling from the aftermath of Theresa Lisbon choosing that pontificating windbag Patrick Jane over him nearly a year ago, Marcus Pike buried himself in work. The transition from Texas to DC and adapting to leading a whole new team took his mind of his misery. However, the lonely nights in his new home, the one purchased with hopes of building a life with Theresa in mind, were untenable and he took on more fieldwork than someone at the director level typically would. Hence why Marcus found himself driving through the desert to some quirky small town in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences.
What the fuck kind of name was that for a town, he wondered idly as his right hand pumped the rental car’s AC to full blast. Having already stripped off his suit jacket and tie, Marcus sweat clear through his lavender dress shirt within minutes. The heat was ungodly. Surely it couldn’t be normal. How could people live like that?
Eyes scanning the dashboard display of the mid-size SUV the agency rented for him, they nearly bugged out of his head at the temperature reading. Lit up in glaring red, the numbers 121°F taunted him as sweat dripped down his temples.
Jesus Christ. Death Valley had nothing on this place.
Marcus steered the vehicle toward his hotel, opting to change into something a little more suitable for the local climate before checking in with the agent representing the local field office. The FBI put him up in a supposedly nice hotel, though he didn’t have high expectations of what that meant in a town like this. As long as the AC worked, he’d survive.
Thirty minutes later, Marcus took his second shower of the day, this one much colder than the last, and jumped back into the SUV in an outfit more typical of a golf outing than an FBI investigation. It was the best he could do with what he packed. The local agent texted him the address of an art gallery, the first in a series of apparent crime scenes, and he plugged the address into the GPS.
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Normally, you didn’t mind the heat, preferring that to cold winters, but this current heatwave was beyond ridiculous. You sweat just by simply existing. You never experienced anything like it in the five years you’d been stationed in Albuquerque, and you suddenly found yourself longing for the bone-deep cold of a northeastern winter as you waited for the DC agent to arrive.
The chilling sea breeze of a New Jersey winter sounded like heaven right now.
A sleek silver SUV pulled up next to your government-issued sedan and you watched with an assessing gaze from the driver’s seat as Director Marcus Pike exited the vehicle clad in khaki shorts and a turquoise polo, trendy aviator sunglasses shielding his eyes from the glare of the desert sun. His dark brown hair was short and styled back off his forehead, and a neatly trimmed scruff lined his top lip and jaw.
You knew from a quick glance at his FBI profile that he was a decorated agent, but his government photo did not do him justice. The man was fucking gorgeous in person. Exiting your own vehicle before he caught you staring, you introduced yourself.
He flashed you a smile full of boyish charm when you gave him your name, causing your heart to thump double time. “You can just call me Jersey, everyone else does,” you finished, holding your hand out to shake his.
“Marcus Pike, Director of the Art Crimes Squad in DC,” he replied, his larger hand engulfing yours in a firm, yet not overbearing, shake. “Just call me Marcus.”
The two of you gazed at each other, the sun beating down on you both like laser beams. Holy fuck, Marcus was even hotter up close. Yeah, his FBI file photo did not do him any justice at all. Not wanting to make things uncomfortable by staring too long, you gestured toward the door to the gallery.
“Shall we?”
Marcus cleared his throat and nodded, following behind you as you strolled casually through the entrance. “Wanna give me a rundown of what we know so far?”
“Sure,” you replied. “We’ve had paintings stolen from several galleries in town. Despite its odd name and small-town status, Truth or Consequences has a rather robust art scene. Lots of expensive art showcased in these galleries.”
Marcus nodded as you gave him some background. He likely read most of this in the file on his flight out here, but you could appreciate the necessity of running over it again verbally. Repetition was the mother of
 whatever the fuck that saying was. Your brain was already too fried from the heat.
“The thefts started almost a week ago, not too long after the start of the extreme heatwave this area is currently experiencing. There has been one painting taken every other day so far, always at the peak heat of the day when the townsfolk are too overheated and tired to pay much attention. No eyewitnesses and the thief artfully avoided any surveillance or security cameras so far.”
You watched Marcus jot down some notes, tapping the end of his pen against the small notepad as he reviewed the information.
“So, three paintings taken so far, and it’s still early in the day. I’m guessing we can expect another theft today?” You nodded and Marcus tapped the pen against his bottom lip this time, causing you to avert your gaze before he caught you ogling the plump flesh.
“Have there been any patterns identified?”
You could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Just in the types of paintings taken so far. They all depict scenes of cool, serene landscapes.”
Dark brown eyes held your gaze. “So, the exact opposite of the current weather situation.”
Again, you nodded. “That’s the only pattern so far. We haven’t been able to determine any order to the galleries hit and, unfortunately, this town doesn’t have the law enforcement manpower to guard all of the galleries and still attend to their normal duties. We do have unis posted at the galleries that haven’t been hit yet, just in case. That’s the best the townies could do though.”
Humming in thought, Marcus walked around the gallery, causing you to scramble to keep up. It was fascinating watching his mind work, his big, brown eyes taking in every minute detail around him. When he stopped in front of the empty spot marking the first stolen painting’s former home, you paused next to him, debating on sharing the only other piece of information you had so far.
“There’s, uh, something strange that may or may not be related to this case.” That got Marcus’ attention and his eyes shot to you once again, brow arched curiously.
“Do tell,” he replied with an encouraging smile. You blinked slowly, trying in vain to maintain your concentration in front of such a handsome man.
“I will on the way to the other galleries. Just
 just promise to hold judgment until I finish telling you everything. It’s a little
 unorthodox compared to what we’re used, I’d say.” You led the way back to your car, gesturing for Marcus to get in on the passenger side. It made more sense to ride together. Thankfully, you left it running while inside the gallery, making the interior still nice and cool.
Once seated, his head cocked to the side endearingly, the tilt of his lips bordering on an indulgent smile. “Ok, I promise.” The cadence and depth of his soft-spoken voice set you aflame and you had to practically shake yourself to not fall to your knees in praise of this man.
Jesus Christ, Jersey, have a modicum of professionalism and self-respect, will ya, your inner monologue chided. Your libido hyperfixated on the veritable stud before you whether you wanted it to or not. It’d been too long since your last tumble in the sheets, apparently. Recentering your focus, you pulled out onto the main road heading to the next crime scene.
“Good,” you croaked. Feeling the heat creep up your already overheated flesh, you cleared your throat. “I’m sure you can tell, the weather here is ungodly hot – hard to miss it. This is not entirely normal, from what I understand. It’s tempting to chalk it up to climate change, except for one strange thing. Drive twenty or thirty minutes outside of town and the temps are far lower, though still hot by some standards. The temps within the surrounding towns are in line with the more normal averages.”
Brows furrowed, Marcus’ dark eyes searched your face, clearly looking for more context clues. “The heat certainly seemed excessive on the ride over from the municipal airport. I had to stop at the hotel and change or I would have melted to the pavement in my suit.”
You chuckled. “I know the feeling. The average temperature here is supposed to be in the low 90s this time of year, not thirty degrees higher. And the usually cooler desert nights haven’t existed for the past couple of weeks. It’s very strange.”
“And it’s just this town, you say?”
Pulling to a stop in front of the next gallery, you nodded. “Strange, right?”
“Very,” Marcus replied, deep in thought as he followed you inside.
It carried on like that the rest of the afternoon until the heat became just too much after checking out the last crime scene. Like everyone else in town, you sought refuge in the coolest place you could find, which happened to be a hole-in-the-wall pub just off the main street.
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Just when Marcus thought things couldn’t get weirder with this town, you led him into a dark and dingy little pub, settling right up to the aged bar. If you weren’t a certified agency employee, he would be terrified that you were luring him to his untimely death.
As it was, the scraggly old barkeep gave him the creeps when he shuffled over, eyeing the pair of you with the same attention he would three-headed aliens. “Coldest beer in town. Two pints?” The man’s voice as rough as he looked, he didn’t wait for an answer.
Marcus shot you a look, eyes wide and uncertain, but you merely shrugged in return. He didn’t normally drink on the job, but between the heat and the early start for traveling, Marcus decided his day was finished. He chugged at the frosty draft when the barkeep placed it in front of him. The old man was right, the pint glass was frozen and small chunks of ice floated in the foamy beer.
“Damn, that’s good,” he nearly moaned, feeling refreshed.
“I know, right?” you replied, nearly half done with your own pint. “I don’t normally like beer, but I could drink it all day long when it’s ice cold like this. Especially in this heat, you know?”
The first round went down easily, and quickly, and the old barkeep, whose name turned out to be Harry, placed another round down before Marcus even thought to ask. The pair of you settled into easy conversation, getting to know each other outside of the job. The more you drank, the more your Jersey accent started to peak through. He found it cute and kept asking you questions just to keep hearing you talk.
Soon enough, any thought left in his mind about Theresa evaporated. How could he still think about his ex-fiancé when a hot, smart, sweet little thing like you sat before him, chatting, and flirting away the evening. Theresa had nothing on you.
It took exactly a fraction of a second to be struck by your beauty that morning. Confident and intelligent, not mention damn good at your job, he quickly realized your natural beauty served as icing on the cake. You were the entire package, and he was trying his damnedest to not charge ahead trying to get you into bed.
Turned out you both had similar relationship history, married too young and divorced, no kids, longed for a dog if only your job didn’t call you away so often. You were practically the female version of him, Marcus thought. It made him all the more curious about you.
Before long, you both ordered some bar grub and went back to talking about the case. Neither of you could make sense of what you had so far. There were vital pieces of the puzzle missing, that much was apparent.
Harry unceremoniously dropped plates full of burgers and fries in front of you, not even trying to hide the fact that he eavesdropped on your conversation.
“You think your case has something to do with the heat?” the old man questioned, leaning heavily on the bar top.
You and Marcus shared a look before you nodded.
“There’s some local lore you might find interesting, then,” Harry said, pausing for dramatic effect and you gestured for him to continue. “Well, as the legends go, the Flame of Quetzalcoatl was hidden somewhere in town centuries ago. They say it was a gem gifted by the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl himself, but who the recipient was no one knows. The gem is said to hold the power of the sun and the wielder of it has the ability to control heat.”
You and Marcus sat there in silence, absorbing the tale Harry just shared. After a few minutes, Marcus glanced at you, doubt clear in his expression.
“This town just gets fuckin’ weirder by the minute, I swear,” he said, sipping at his pint once again. “I might actually believe that little story if I was a few more beers in.”
You laughed, but your face didn’t hold the same doubt as his. “I don’t know, Marcus. If living out here for the past few years has taught me anything, it’s that these Aztec legends are often too close to the truth to blow off.”
Harry harrumphed. “I’d say so, little lady.”
“Besides, it’s the best we’ve got right now,” you said, nudging Marcus’ shoulder with yours. “Couldn’t hurt to play that angle until a better lead pops up.”
Marcus found himself agreeing, much to his surprise.
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Over the next few days, you and Marcus researched as much as possible about local lore related to Aztecs, searching for any hint of what Harry told you. In that time, three more paintings were stolen. The thief started leaving little clues as if to goad law enforcement.
The first cryptic clue further convinced you of the potential voracity of the Aztec legend. Written in drip red paint in the spot where the fourth painting had been located, Marcus suspected the thief meant it to look like blood.
When the feathered serpent sheds its skin, the heat will rise.
“Holy shit,” you gasped when you first read it. Turning to Marcus, you declared, “Quetzalcoatl was known as the Feathered Serpent.”
His dark brown eyes widened, meeting yours in shock. “No way.”
You nodded, flipping through your notepad to find your most recent notes on the case. “Yes way. That book we borrowed from the Historical Society talked about it. Remember?”
Marcus nodded slowly as the information came back to him, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of this completely bizarre case. “Didn’t the book say something about Quetzalcoatl being a signal of transformation? Think the clue has something to do with that?”
“Yeah, could be.”
The pattern continued the next day with another clue left behind.
Where the earth boils and the water steams, the gem of the sun awaits.
The pair of you debated the meaning of the second clue over cold beer at Harry’s pub. As the case evolved, so did the connection between you and Marcus. You both flirted unashamedly when you weren’t talking about the case. It turned out the agency put you both up at the same hotel – your rooms on the same floor even. You were beginning to hope that he would make a move, yet completely terrified of that happening at the same time.
Despite your best efforts, the thief remained one step ahead of law enforcement, somehow managing to steal from galleries you had actively guarded. How in the world was this guy doing it?
Things were slowly coming together once a third clue was discovered.
Seek the place where fire and water dance, and there you will find the sun’s heart.
Without a local FBI office to work out of – the Albuquerque one you worked out of was over two hours away – you’d decided to setup camp in a quiet booth at Harry’s. He kept you full on pub grub and refreshments – soda and water during work hours, of course – and chipped in with his local knowledge whenever he thought it needed.
In fact, it was Harry who guided you toward understanding the latest clues.
“Have you two heard about the hot springs? This town is famous for them.” The old man dropped the nugget of knowledge along with a plate of fries and shuffled away, leaving the two of you to stare after him.
Marcus turned to you; his lips pursed in thought. You ached to nibble on the plump flesh of his bottom lip, to feel the gentle scratch of his facial hair against your soft skin as you did so.
“Where the earth boils and the water streams,” Marcus recalled the second clue in that delicious, soft-spoken voice of his, sending a wave of gooseflesh over your skin. “Seek the place where fire and water dance.”
Shaking your head free of naughty thoughts, you focused on the clues and the knowledge bomb Harry dropped, picking right up on Marcus’ thought process. “Fire, heat, and water... The hot springs!”
Marcus beamed at you; eyes sparkling as he came to the same realization. “It has to be. Makes sense, right?”
“Sure does,” you agreed, grinning back at him. “But there must be a ton of them. How would we ever find the right one?”
Sitting back in his seat, Marcus shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll have to keep digging. Do you still have that book from the Historical Society? Maybe there’s something else in there to help us.”
“It’s back in my room,” you reply. “Fancy ordering room service at the hotel while we go over the clues again?”
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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What was he thinking, agreeing to go back to your room to continue working on the case.
An unwitting temptress already, how was he supposed to control himself when you invited him into your room for dinner, drinks, and after-hours casework?
In the already excessive desert heat, Marcus was sweating bullets as he followed you into your room, conveniently located only a few doors down from his own.
“I have a bottle of cab, is that good?” you questioned, kicking off your shoes with a sigh before reaching for the screw cap bottle.
Audibly gulping, Marcus squeaked out an assent and wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. He glanced around the room to distract himself, noting happily that you were a tidy traveler, much like himself.
“I have bottled water as well. Would you like one?” Marcus nodded. With an indulgent smile, you held out the small ice bucket. “I like mine over ice. Would you mind?”
Eager for a moment to clear his head, Marcus grabbed the bucket. “No problem.” The echo of your chuckle followed him as he rushed out the door.
“What is wrong with you, dude?” he whispered to himself as he strolled down the hall to the ice machine. “You don’t even know if this woman wants anything more than just reviewing the case. Calm the fuck down.”
Feeling a little calmer and more under control after his private pep talk, Marcus knocked on your door with the full ice bucket in hand. You let him in with a broad smile that nearly made his heart stop.
“Perfect.” Plucking the bucket from his hands, you returned to the makeshift kitchenette area to fill two cups with ice and water. Two glasses of cabernet were already sitting on the tiny table in the small designated sitting area of the hotel room.
Marcus joined you on the couch, case file in hand, seated close due to the limited space. You dove right in to discussing the case, easing his nerves. The pair of you compared the facts of the case, debating theories and potential connections. Without any physical evidence, you still didn’t have any viable suspects, which was incredibly frustrating for both of you.
“I’ve never had a case like this,” Marcus said. “It’s hard to believe that this could all relate to a myth about an ancient god. It feels weird even saying that aloud.”
“I know. It’s giving me Twilight Zone vibes.”
With the lack of viable suspects serving as a brick wall in furthering the investigation, conversation switched to other topics.
“You’re from New Jersey?” Marcus asked. “What brought you out here?”
“Yep, born and raised at the Jersey Shore,” you replied, that northeastern accent peeking through as you drank more wine. “Classic reason for relocating – I followed a guy, the one I told you a little about. We got married young and one day he woke up and decided he wanted a change of scenery. I followed along without argument, and we wound up out here. Biggest mistake of my life.”
“Ahh,” he said with a nod. “That asshole.”
“Yeah, that asshole.”
From what you told Marcus about your ex-husband, he knew the guy was a real piece of work. Classic narcissist who beat you down emotionally the entire time you were together. Marcus was happy that you kicked the guy to the curb two years ago and the divorce finalized last year. No one deserved to be treated like that, especially you.
“Are you going to stick around here now that’s all over with?” He found himself curious about your future plans.
Shaking your head, you laughed. “Hell no. I put in for a transfer already, for anywhere on the east coast closer to home. I’m no picky.”
Marcus perked up at that. The DC headquarters always had openings. He’d get to see you again if you were transferred there. “I could put in a good word for you, if you’d like. You’re a great agent from what I’ve seen so far.”
Ducking your head bashfully, you peeked at him through your lashes. “That’s pretty high praise coming from a director,” you deflected.
“I mean it, Jersey.” He kept his voice low, using your nickname for the first time, and watched in delight as you shuddered.
The air in the room shifted, sexual tension thick and nearly overpowering. Marcus watched as your pupils dilated, lust overtaking the previous sparkle. He gulped when your tongue darted out to lick your lips tantalizingly.
Shifting ever so closer, your scent washed over him. You smelled fucking delicious, hints of cocoa butter and salty sweat, reminding him of the beach. His shorts suddenly became tighter, his cock twitching to life. He wanted to devour you.
The next thing Marcus knew, your lips were pressed to his as you basically ripped the clothes from each other’s bodies, the now empty bottle of wine knocked from the table to the carpeted floor in the process. Despite the cool air pumping from the air conditioning, your skin felt hot to his touch.
Licking into your mouth, savoring the taste of you mixed with the bite of wine on your tongue, Marcus steered you backwards until your hamstrings bumped against the mattress. He eased you down onto the bed, detaching his lips from yours to take in the electrifying sight of your naked body splayed before him.
“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his fingertips tracing down your smooth skin slowly, teasingly from your neck to your toes.
Your eyes, blown wide with need, burned into his before dipping down to take in his naked body with a gasp. His cock bobbed eagerly as you stared.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Marcus said, his soft voice filled with awe, matching the wonder in his eyes.
“Me either,” you replied, “but I’m happy it is. You are so fucking gorgeous, Marcus.”
Marcus couldn’t help the blush that pinkened his cheeks. Reaching behind him to the bucket, he plucked a large ice cube from the slowly melting pile. His eyes remained locked on yours as he popped the frozen cube into his mouth, sucking lightly before his tongue pushed forward and his lips puckered as a portion of the ice cube stuck out.
The breath left you when he dipped his head down to run the cube along your clavicle and down across your breasts. Your nipples pebbled beneath the chilly wetness as Marcus directed the ice cube back and forth a few times. He watched delightedly as goosebumps peppered your skin when he moved the cube down your belly in a zigzag pattern.
“Oh, fuck.” Your chest heaved and fingers tightened their grip on the bedsheets when Marcus dipped further down, running the quickly melting cube over your mound and through your slit. The cold nearly shocking to the overwhelming heat of your labia.
Using his tongue to increase the pressure, Marcus circled the ice cube over your clit until you cried out, one hand loosening its grip on the sheets to tangle your fingers in his thick hair. He shifted, plunging the cube into your entrance, pushing as far as his tongue would extend, then leant back to watch your pussy suck the cube further until in melted into mere dribbles of water.
You laid there panting, eyes hooded and wanting, as Marcus dove back in, using his tongue to continue the work he started with the ice cube. He lapped and sucked at your clit, two thick fingers slipping inside you, until you became a blubbering mess, blurting out unintelligible words and moans, finally falling apart beneath his ministrations.
Marcus slurped at the evidence of your long overdue release, savoring the sweet, tangy taste of you. His hips thrust against the mattress of their own accord, his body seeking any sort of friction against his aching cock it could find.
“Your mouth is a lethal weapon, Marcus,” you said breathlessly, hands reaching under his shoulders to drag him up your body. “Now let’s see what you can do with your cock.”
His hair flopped forward over his forehead from your fingers tangling in it and he grinned in satisfaction at your comment. His boyish charm proved too much to handle, and you yanked his face down to yours, tongues tangling in a scorching kiss. You nibbled on his plump bottom lip between fervent kisses, savoring the plushness between your teeth.
Whining when he pulled away suddenly, your fingers grasping for purchase to pull him back, Marcus winked at you when he slid off the bed. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m coming right back.”
Digging in his shorts to find his wallet, Marcus pulled out a long-forgotten condom from the tri-fold leather and checked the date on the foil packaging to make sure it hadn’t expired. Content with the remaining half-life, he ripped the package open with his teeth and slid the latex material over his cock.
You beamed at him when he climbed back onto the bed. “I knew you were a smart man.”
Marcus slid up beside your body, turning you so your back pressed snug against his chest. “Safety first, baby. Wrap it before you tap it, right?”
Your laughter became strangled when he slid inside you, splitting you open on his cock. “Oh my god. You feel so good!” you cried when he began to move inside you after a long pause to let you adjust to the sheer size of him.
Marcus started at a slow pace, getting a feel for the way your walls tightened around him. Gripping the bed covers with your right hand, you reached your left hand up and around to tangle in his hair behind you. He picked up the pace as you tugged gently on his locks, his lips peppering your neck with soft, wet kisses.
When, at last, Marcus began pounding into you, you reached between your legs with your right hand to rub your clit. Despite the cool air blowing over your bodies, the heat between you had your skin glistening with sweat. You cried as Marcus hit a particularly pleasurable spot deep within you, his own moans morphing into grunts as you clamped down on him.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight around me. I can feel you clench every time I hit this spot.” His words were murmured into your ear, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. Marcus plunged forward to hit your g-spot, proving his point when you clenched tightly around him once again. “Yeah, just like that.”
You plunged clear over the precipice then, crying out his name and any number of praises as an orgasm overtook you. Marcus talked you through it, his voice like sugary syrup, while he never once let up on his thrusts. Minutes, hours later, he followed you into the overwhelming bliss with a shout of your name followed by a string of curses.
“That was amazing.” Marcus nuzzled your neck as his hips slowed, the last shots of his cum dribbling into the condom. “You are amazing.”
Lost for words, you just hummed in agreement. Knackered from the excessive heat, long day of investigative work, the alcohol, and the mind-blowing sex, you hovered on the edge of sleep while Marcus got up to dispose of the condom. He returned with a wet cloth and cleaned you up with tender dedication. Tossing the cloth aside, he paused, standing naked and uncertain next to the bed.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Hell yeah, I do,” you replied sleepily, tossing the covers down so you could both slide under them. “I hope you like to cuddle, Mister.”
Grinning at you, Marcus wrapped his arm around you, curving his body around yours. “You bet your ass I do.”
You both fell into an exhausted sleep feeling hopeful and satiated for the first time in a long time.
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Waking up in Director Pike’s arms was not something you expected would happen on this case. You fantasized. You hoped. Sure, all of that. But you never, ever expected it would actually happen. But it did and it felt fucking incredible.
You already knew he was damn good at his job. It was impressive to see that his single-minded focus and massive talent carried over to his skills in the bedroom as well. You replayed the night before in your head as you showered, remembering with fondness all the ways Marcus surprised you, how cherished he made you feel, the sheer pleasure he brought you.
How were you supposed to focus on the case now when your mind was completely overcome with thoughts of Marcus. You were almost relieved when he slipped out of the room after sharing a cup of hotel room coffee with you. You weren’t sure you could keep your hands to yourself if he stayed much longer, the rumbled, sleepy look proving almost too adorable to resist.
Marcus met you in the hotel lobby, two large cups of iced coffee and a brown paper bag clutched in his hands an hour after waking up together. “Good morning, Jersey girl,” he greeted you with a wink, dark brown eyes sparkling in the soft morning light filtering through the windows.
You chuckled at the variation of your nickname, already knowing that would become his signature endearment for you. “Good morning, handsome. Long time, no see.”
His grin grew wider. “Come on. Let’s ride together. No sense in taking two cars anymore.” He handed you one of the iced coffees and the paper bag, pulling the keys to his SUV out of his pocket.
Clad in gray cargo shorts, blush polo shirt, and a pair of boat shoes, Marcus looked ready for a day spent on the water rather than investigating art theft. The sight made your mouth water and you gulped at the iced coffee. As he drove, you both munched on the bagels he picked up along with the coffees while waiting for you.
“I figured we’d start taking a look at some of these hot springs to get a feel for them and see if anything else in the clues pops out at us,” Marcus explained between bites. He always chewed with his mouth closed and waited until after he swallowed to speak. You loved a man with impeccably manners.
“Great idea. I put a list of them in the file.”
“I know,” he beamed at you. “I saw it last night, before
 It’s what gave me the idea. Thought we’d start with La Paloma and work our way down the list. What do you think?”
You nodded, sitting back in the passenger seat contentedly. Much to your surprise, there wasn’t an ounce of awkwardness between you two after last night’s surprising turn of events. Everything felt natural, like it was meant to turn out this way and you basked in the effortless interactions between you and Marcus.
Marcus spoke to the manager upon your arrival at La Paloma Hot Springs & Spa and the gentleman gave you a quick tour of the facility before allowing the two of you to investigate on your own. You split up to cover more ground, the scent of mineral-rich water tickling your nose as you worked your way through the facility.
Searching the private soaking tubs, you ran your hands along the edges looking for evidence of hidden compartments that might contain the artifact. Still uncertain if that was what you were actually looking for, it didn’t hurt to search. When you found nothing, your focus shifted to the vintage dĂ©cor including the old photographs hanging on the walls, looking for any signs or symbols that might be a clue.
An hour later, you and Marcus reconvened at the front desk, disappointed that you both came up empty, yet undeterred in your drive to figure out this case.
You visited a number of other hot springs, conducting the same kind of searches yet never finding additional clues or evidence.
“It’s like we’re missing something,” Marcus said as you both climbed into the SUV, burnt out and sweaty, after your latest search came up empty. You’d spent the entire day running from hot spring to hot spring across the small town to no avail.
“Yeah, but what could it be?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s not just any old hot spring? We need more to go on.”
Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming call from the TCPD. Another painting stolen right under their noses – or rather, right behind the officer’s back as he turned around while patrolling one of the galleries. The thief had lightning-fast reflexes, apparently.
“Alright, thanks Chief. We’ll head over there now.” You ended the call and relayed the information to Marcus.
“This guy sure is brazen. I’ll give him that,” he lamented, carefully spinning the SUV around to head toward the latest crime scene.
“He’s got some balls, nicking a painting while an officer is standing right there. It’s like he’s begging to be caught.”
“That or he’s just a fucking lunatic.” Marcus met your gaze for a long moment after parking the vehicle. “Is it wrong that part of me hopes we don’t catch him too soon?”
Your heart thumped in your chest, lips quirking upwards into a shy smile. “No, not after last night
” you admitted. “We could always stay a few days after solving the case and explore this.” You gestured between the two of you.
Shutting off the car, Marcus bobbed his head. His previously styled hair fell across his forehead, the heat having worn away the product he used this morning. “I’d really like that.”
The TCPD officer met you at the door and led the way to the scene of the latest theft, his shoulders hunched in shame. “I never saw him; he was there and gone in seconds. Managed to leave this behind though, taped where the painting had been.”
Marcus accepted the paper, holding it up so you could read it.
Where the serpent bathes in earth’s warm embrace, beneath the soothing waters, the heart of the sun lies hidden.
“This message is different. Different, but the same. I mean
 I don’t know what I mean,” you sighed frustratedly.
Marcus patted your shoulder in a manner appropriate for a professional audience. “No. I get what you mean. It’s tying the clues together in a different way. Giving us more hints at once.”
Heaving a sigh of your own, you nodded. What a great relief to feel understood. “Exactly.”
Conferring with the forensics team first, you and Marcus departed when they confirmed the thief left no trace evidence behind. No fibers, fingerprints, or hair. Nothing to clue you in on who the thief could be. Nothing, not even on the adhesive used to tape the clue to the wall or the paper itself. The perp was either lucky or extremely tidy.
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Seated once again in the corner booth at Harry’s dingy pub, Marcus devoured his burger while you daintily nibbled at your fries. The extremely high temperature ruined your appetite. The case file sat open on the table as you placed sticky notes on a photocopy of the latest clue.
“’Where the serpent bathes’
 that has to refer to the hot springs, right? And the serpent would symbolize this Quintessential guy?”
“Quetzalcoatl. The god’s name is Quetzalcoatl, for Christ’s sake,” Harry chimed in as he dropped off a fresh round of cold draft beers.
“Yeah, that guy,” you said, pointing a fry at Harry in thanks. Marcus laughed at your adorable ridiculousness. You made investigating this mind-boggling case fun.
“Right. And ‘in the earth’s warm embrace’ refers to the warm waters of the hot springs as well. That’s caused by geothermal activity, is that correct, Harry?” Marcus questioned.
The grizzled old barkeep lingered by your table, too caught up in his own curiosity to return to his duties. “Mmhmm, that’s what they say. I’m no rock scientist, mind.”
“You mean a geologist?” you chirped, a shit-eating grin gracing your pretty face.
“Yes, you mouthy little shit. Don’t sass me or I won’t help solve this case,” Harry grumbled. For a moment, Marcus worried you would be offended by the old man, but your tinkling laughter convinced him otherwise.
Marcus stifled a laugh when you rolled your eyes playfully and re-focused his attention on the clue. “That could be the earth’s warm embrace part, then. And ‘beneath the soothing waters’ refers again to the hot springs.”
“Uh huh,” Harry chimed in again, pulling the case file closer to him, aged eyes squinting to read your notes. Neither of you would normally let a civilian get so involved in a case, but Harry proved himself integral to solving this particularly challenging and unusual case. Pointing an arthritic finger to the final line of today’s clue, beneath the soothing waters, he added, “It refers to the artifact being hidden there, beneath one of the hot springs.”
Harry slipped into the booth on your side, and you flashed Marcus a smile. The old man was fully invested now. Thankfully the bar was empty but for a few regulars who could help themselves as far as Harry was concerned.
“Ok, so to summarize, we know the hot springs are involved,” you stated, processing the facts aloud as well as in your head. “And we know that the artifact is hidden beneath one of them. The question we’ve been chasing all day is which one, right? So, do any of the known hot springs have a serpent symbol or painting or something along those lines associated with it?”
Marcus shook his head as you flipped through pages of notes. “Definitely didn’t see any in the ones we checked out today.”
“Oh, for the love of all that is holy, you two idiots will be my age by the time you figure this out,” Harry stood from the booth, his voice gruff with annoyance, though whether that was from dealing with the two of you or the effort it took to stand with aged, arthritic bones was anyone’s guess. “You’ll want to check out Riverbend Hot Springs in the morning. You’re welcome.”
Mouths agape, you both watched the cantankerous old man shuffle back to the bar, grumbling to himself the whole way.
“Did he just solve the case for us?” Marcus asked when his gaze shifted back to you.
“I think so,” you laughed. “Thank fucking goodness. My eyes were starting to cross from looking at this file so much.”
Looking it up on his phone, Marcus confirmed that the Riverbend Hot Springs were closed until morning. Knowing their work was done for the day, he flashed you a heated look. “Want to go back to my room? Maybe cool off in the shower?”
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Marcus had a nicer room than yours, the walk-in shower encased in glass and large enough to fit a few people. The perks of being a director, you guessed.
You barely glimpsed at the room before Marcus backed you against the already deadbolted door. His mouth pressed against yours, tongue dancing along the seam of your lips, begging for entry. You let him in eagerly, tongues tangling and teeth clashing with urgency. His hands were everywhere, stripping away your clothes and sliding against already bare skin in turn.
Once you both gave into the spark, stoking the fire into flames last night, the want turned into a blazing inferno that neither of you could extinguish. Not that you wanted to, anyway. No, you were content to burn to a crisp as the fire raged.
Marcus had you stripped naked within minutes, his mouth having never left your own in the process. Eager to return the favor from last night, you sunk to your knees, undoing his belt and shorts as you stared up at him. Marcus tore off his shirt while you shoved his shorts and boxer briefs down his slim hips to pool at his feet.
“Oh, fuck,” Marcus moaned as you wrapped your hand around his hardened length, testing the girth and weight of it in your grip. You tugged playfully a few times, getting to know the feel of him. Still staring into his lust blown eyes, you slowly leaned forward to glide the head of his cock around your plump lips before slipping him inside your mouth. A delicious whine fell from his lips when your tongue lapped at the little droplet of precum without breaking eye contact.
Not wanting to torture him unnecessarily, you began to move, taking more of his cock into your mouth until he bumped the back of your throat. Bobbing your head, you soaked his cock with your saliva, sucking every now and then to increase the sensation. Your left hand tugged the base of him where your mouth couldn’t quite reach, twisting with each upward stroke to further enhance his pleasure, as your right hand massaged his balls.
Panting heavily above you, Marcus slapped his palms against the door to support himself as you continued sucking his cock. Experimenting with how far you could take him, you hollowed your cheeks, easing farther down his length and breathed through your nose.
“Jersey girl
 ungh. Please, I’m gonna come down that pretty little throat if you don’t stop.” You could feel his thigh muscles flex and twitch with the effort of not blowing his load down your throat as he stuttered out the words.
Taking pity on the man, you eased back until his cock audibly popped out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you until Marcus severed the link by stepping backwards on shaky legs.
“You are too good at that, my little minx. Come here.” Marcus helped you up, leading you into the shower once you regained your balance. He kissed you deeply as the cool water from the shower head cascaded over you both.
The water felt good on your overheated skin and Marcus pressed you backwards against the sturdy glass. Hiking a leg up around his waist with one hand, he gently cradled the side of your face in the other. Your gazes locked as he reached around your thigh and teased your clit.
“So wet for me, my Jersey girl.” Already on edge from sucking his cock, you were drenched and ready for him. “Did sucking my cock turn you on that much, my Jersey girl?” You mewled and, with the slightest shift of his hips, Marcus notched his cock at your entrance, feeding you inch by inch until your walls gripped his entire length tightly. “Fuck, you feel like heaven.”
Droplets of water rained down your bodies as he thrusted into you, your lips pressed open-mouthed against each other, noses bumping, exchanging breaths and moans without actually kissing. The stretch was intense but pleasurable, and you could feel every ridge of him inside you.
You suddenly realized why that was.
“Shit, we forgot a condom,” you said in between moans, your hands grasping his plump ass to make certain he didn’t stop.
Marcus showed no signs of stopping, his hips almost seemed to pick up the pace. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Fuck no!” you gasped; eyes fluttering shut as he nudged that spot inside you just right. “Please don’t ever fucking stop.”
“Ok,” he breathed against your lips. “I’m clean and it’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.”
“Same,” you replied. “And I’m on birth control, so please, come inside me.”
Marcus groaned deeply at that, his head shifting so he could nip at your neck, soothing the sting with little kitten licks of his tongue. Pulling back, he murmured, “Turn around.”
You did so, whining as he slipped out of you. With a gentle hand, Marcus pushed your upper body against the glass and pulled your hips closer to him so your back arched perfectly. Your tits were pressed up against the glass wall of the shower and, just beyond it, you could see your reflections in the mirror. Only a slight mist of steam swirled in the air from the temperature of the water, and it didn’t hinder your view at all as Marcus closed in behind you, slipping his cock back where it belonged.
You watched your reflections, mesmerized, as he fucked into you, his wet hair flopping over his forehead when he bent forward to kiss along your shoulders and neck. Your hands came up on either side of your head to brace yourself against the glass, hoping that the strength of his thrusts wouldn’t cause it to shatter.
Marcus reached a hand around your thigh, slipping between your legs to pluck at your clit as you fucked you. Every single cell in your body felt aflame, ready to burst at the pleasure racing through you. It didn’t take long for you to explode, eyes squinted shut as you keened.
“That’s it, baby. Just like that. Come on my cock, my little Jersey girl. I can feel your cum gushing around me. Fuck, baby.” Once again, Marcus talked you through it in the soft voice of his. He continued thrusting as your walls trembled around him, driving him right over the edge after you, rope and rope of cum splashed your walls as he made the loveliest sex sounds in your ear.
You stayed like that, pressed up against the glass with the weight of Marcus leaning against you, chests heaving, until you both came back down from the high. Taking a few minutes to actually wash the day off each other, you settled on the bed wrapped in towels afterwards.
The two of you talked long into the night and, unable to keep your hands or mouths off each other, you had sex twice more before falling asleep.
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Unable to come to an agreement on whether backup would be necessary at this point, you and Marcus finally decided to bring one officer to investigate the Riverbend Hot Springs with you. An extra pair of eyes could be useful, on that you both agreed.
Known for its scenic outdoor pools on the banks of the Rio Grande, visitors usually flocked to Riverbend. The facility not only had the hot springs, but hotel rooms and spaces for recreational vehicles as well. The manager was less than pleased when Marcus informed him that any guests present would have to stay in their rooms and out of both the common and private pools during the search. The last thing the investigation needed was public interference or contaminated evidence.
Searching the private pools first to appease the guests and resort manager, Marcus swiped his hand over his sweaty face when you found nothing.
“Let’s check the common pools now,” he sighed, wondering if it would be another fruitless adventure.
Another two hours of searching – lifting stones, moving decorative displays, going inside the pools themselves, even going so far as to request a shovel from the grounds crew to poke around in the landscaping – turned up nothing.
“At least there’s only one pool to go,” you said, trying to stay positive about finding something. “This has gotta be the one, right?”
“Let’s hope,” Marcus replied. Drenched in a mixed of sweat and mineral water, he wanted nothing more than to slip between cool sheets with you and an ice-cold drink. This case sucked.
Located at the far end of the property, overlooking the Rio Grande, a rock wall encased the final pool for support given the topography on the side along the river dipped lower. Marcus directed the officer to start at one end while he joined you in working your way up from the riverbank. Thorough in your search, you left literally left no stone unturned. One particular large slab placed in the landscaping next to the pool like a decorative display required your and Marcus’ strength combined to lift, and you gasped when you saw what sat in hiding beneath it.
“Is that a fucking trap door?” Marcus asked with a grunt as he glanced down and pushed the rock slab to the side.
“Yeah, it fucking is.” Bending down to open it, Marcus stopped you.
“Wait a second, Jersey girl. We don’t want to just go rushing down there.” He called the officer over for a quick chat, asking him to find the manager and see if anyone knew anything about where the trapdoor led.
Minutes later, the manager and resort engineer joined the group. No one knew a damn thing about what they found. It wasn’t depicted on the as-built drawings or any other schematics the engineer had on file. That did not bode well. Turning to the officer, you asked him to call for back up.
“We’ll head down to scope it out. Come down once backup gets here. In the meantime, please keep the guests away from this area,” Marcus directed the officer and manager before turning to you. “Ready, Jersey girl?”
Pulling your service weapon from its holster, you nodded confidently. “With you at my side, I’m ready for anything.”
Marcus flashed that boyish grin before wrenching the trapdoor open. As suspected, narrow steps carved into the stone descended down into darkness. Before Marcus could ask for one, the facility engineer handed him a flashlight.
Stepping carefully down the steps with the flashlight held high in one hand and his service weapon in the other, Marcus descended into the dark unknown with you right on his heels. At the bottom, a pathway led through more rock, dim light visible in the distance. You reach out while walking along the pathway to find the rock is surprisingly warm.
“I expected it to be cool to the touch,” you murmured, not wanting to make too much noise in case someone or something waited in the shadows.
“Hmm?”
“The walls,” you pointed when Marcus turned around. “They’re warm.”
Directing the beam of light in the direction you pointed, Marcus touched the back of his hand to the wall and looked back at you with a questioning brow. “How?”
“I have no fucking clue,” you shrugged.
“Latent heat from the surface?” he took a guess.
“Your guess is as good as mine. We’re below ground deep enough that it shouldn’t be this warm.”
Marcus continued on down the path, the rock walls growing warmer the farther you progressed. Finally, you turned a corner into a dimly lit chamber, the air filled with oppressive heat making it hard to breathe. You both scanned the room for threats, finding none. The chamber was oddly free of spider webs or bugs or people, aside from the two of you, but a pool of water bubbled inside a ring in the stone floor. Above the pool, an abnormally large, fiery opal appeared to float in the air, the glow from it the only source of light in the chamber aside from the flashlight in Marcus’ hand.
“What the fuck?” you questioned, confused as all hell why the gem just floated in air. “I’m getting some real X-Files type vibes and I DO NOT like it.”
Marcus couldn’t help the twitch of his lips even though he was just as confused as you. “This must be the Flame of Quetzalcoatl.”
“Ya think?” Your nerves made you snarky, a trait Marcus found profoundly adorable and endearing.
Stepping closer to the artifact, Marcus shielded his eyes from the fiery glow. He reached out with one long finger, nearly touching the object when the grinding sound of rock against rock reverberated through the chamber. Jerking back instinctually, both you and Marcus drew your pistols on the sudden intruder.
“Who the fuck are you?” you blurted at the man, your nerves shot to shit, your FBI training the only thing holding you together at that point.
Wild-haired, with oddly composed attire, the man practically vibrated with energy, a glint of insanity in his eerily green eyes. Under one arm, he carried another landscape painting, likely just stolen from another gallery. As if by magic or something equally befitting the utterly odd nature of this entire case, the other stolen paintings appeared, strategically placed along the rock walls rounding the chamber.
“I really don’t like this, Marcus,” you said through gritted teeth. His concerned gaze met yours briefly. “Me either, Jersey.”
It happened, as these things tend to do, suddenly and unexpectedly. The man lunged forward, dropping the painting without thought, and reached a trembling, emaciated hand toward the artifact. Marcus matched the man’s movement, reaching for him rather than the floating, glowing gem. In the process, a glass pedestal you didn’t even know was there, nearly invisible but surely the reason the artifact appeared to be floating in air, toppled over, sending the artifact flying.
You watched, awestruck and frozen in shock, as Marcus tackled the crazy man to the hard ground and the artifact shattered against the rock wall, simultaneously. Almost immediately, the temperature plunged until a damp coolness filled the formerly stuffy chamber, and the man shrieked in despair.
“No! No! No! You’ve ruined everything!” The man continued screeching. Moments later, TCPD officers rushed into the stone room, a few assisting Marcus with securing the thief in cuffs.
Among the backup that just arrived, the police chief stepped up to your side as you gave Marcus a hand in getting back on his feet. “Strangest thing,” the thick-bearded, squat man in uniform said, “the temperature dropped at least twenty-five degrees out of nowhere, just as we started making our way down here. Am I to believe it had something to do with whatever happened down here?”
You and Marcus shared a look before shrugging at the police chief. “I have no clue what even happened down here,” Marcus admitted. Tilting his chin in the crazy man’s direction, he added, “Your boys will bring him in for questioning? We’d like a shot at him, too.”
“Of course. We’ll get him processed. Come by the station whenever you’re finished up here.” The chief followed the officers escorting the man from the chamber, leaving behind a forensics team to gather evidence.
Standing above the shattered artifact, you sighed. “How the hell do I write this up in a report?”
“Very carefully and creatively,” Marcus replied with a smirk.
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The interrogation didn’t take long, the man caving like a deck of cards in the wind. His name was Edmund Fawkes, a local starving artist driven mad by the excessive heat. Already obsessed with ancient mythology and local lore, he discovered the hidden chamber containing Quetzalcoatl’s Flame and, seeking the power and prosperity described in the legends, decided to take possession of it by appeasing the ancient god with landscape paintings.
It didn’t work, clearly, but Edmund was relentless in his insanity, continuing his thievery until you and Marcus caught him.
None of it made sense and there were so many things that could be attributed to entirely coincidental circumstances that you didn’t really care how the pieces fit together. The thief had been caught, the paintings returned to the appropriate galleries largely undamaged, and the town was no longer in the clutches of a deadly heat wave. That was all that really mattered.  
On your way out of the police station, the case solved as far as the bureau was concerned, you turned to Marcus. “How long are you sticking around?”
Gazing at you with those chocolate puppy eyes, his lips twitched into a grin. “I have several weeks of PTO saved up. Figured I’d use some of that. Maybe all of it if I have a reason to.”
You grinned back at him. “I’m sure we could find a reason for that.”
An hour later, the sun dipping past the desert horizon, you found yourselves naked and neck deep in the soothing mineral water of a private hot springs pool. Given that business was completed, you checked out of the hotel the bureau set you both up in and reserved a room at the best resort in town for a couple days of relaxation.
“I’m going to miss this odd little town, especially Harry and his dingy pub,” Marcus said, pulling you closed to his side as you soaked in the soothing water.
“Me, too. I’m going to miss you most, though. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, both professionally and otherwise,” you admitted, leaning your head against his bare shoulder.
Marcus stilled for a moment before tightening his hold on you. “Why don’t you come back to DC with me?”
“What?” Your head tilted back to meet his eyes.
“You said you put in for a transfer back to the east coast, right?” You nodded and he continued. “Well, come back with me and we’ll have that transfer fast tracked. I’m certain there’s a position for you in DC. We won’t be on the same team, but that’s probably a good thing.”
You giggled at the boyish grin he flashed you. “If you’re sure, I’m game. I just don’t want you to feel like we’re rushing into anything.”
“Pssh, rushing, smushing. I’ve waited long enough to find someone like you. Now that I have, I’m not letting you go,” Marcus insisted. Gesturing between you, he added, “I mean it. There’s something amazing here, I know it. We can leave in a few days, spend a week or two exploring the city and each other before getting back to work.”
At a loss for a worthy response, you pressed your lips against his. The soft kiss quickly turned heated as you spun, straddling his lap, with your hands gripping the stone edge of the pool. Marcus ran his fingertips down the slick skin of your bare back as you squirmed into place, his cock swelling to life at the feel of you above, against, around him.
“I haven’t gotten a chance to ride you yet,” you murmured against his lips, grinding your bare pussy down on him.
“Now’s your chance, Jersey girl,” Marcus gasped through a moan. “Take me and use me, baby.”
Overheated despite the contrasting bite of cool air on your damp skin and warm water engulfing half your body, you eased yourself down onto his cock. You’d never get used to the exquisite stretch as he split you open. Drawing out the anticipation, you slid down his length with agonizing slowness, eliciting delicious whines from Marcus.
“Don’t torture me, baby. Please,” he begged to no avail. Peppering his handsome face with kisses, you kept the pace slow and torturous until he writhed beneath you.
At last, you took his full length inside you and started to move, bouncing eagerly on his cock with your head thrown back in pleasure. Marcus’ eyes stared at your breasts, bobbing along the water line and glistening from splashes of the mineral water as you moved on him. Mesmerized, he could look nowhere else, and his fingers shifted to pluck at the hardened peaks of your nipples.
The air temperature continued to drop as night set in, steam rising up from the warm water of the pool, dancing along your skin in beautiful swirls of water vapor. The clear, starry sky the perfect backdrop to your love making – for that’s what it was now, so much more than sex this time as you gave your whole self over to this wonderful, unexpected man who changed your life in a matter of days.
Overwhelmed with feelings, you keened as his cock nudged at all the right placing, your clit stimulated by grinding on his lap. “Fuck, Marcus. I’m gonna cum.”
Marcus thrust his hips upward at that statement, eager to drive you straight over the cliff into that beautiful abyss. “Do it, baby. Come all over my cock, my beautiful Jersey girl.”
Always good at following instructions, you did just that. Your eyelids slipped closed as you spasmed around him, head thrown back in ecstasy, his name falling like a prayer from your lips.
“That’s it, just like that,” Marcus crooned, pressing soothing kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re strangling my cock, baby. Gonna make me come too, sexy girl.”
A few more erratic thrusts upward and Marcus came with a fury, cock pulsing with rope after rope of his spend deep inside you. Breathless and exhausted, you clung to each other until shivers settled in from the plunging temperature.
“Let’s get inside, my Jersey girl. We’ll clean up, climb under the covers, and cuddle while we make plans for the future.”
fin
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leclsrc · 1 year ago
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could i get a carlos imagine where you have commitment issues and he calms you down? as a girlie with commitment/trust issues i just wanna b repped in one of ur fics/drabbles :/// it's tuff out here brotha
bring you home — cs55
Moving in together gets difficult. Carlos is there to ease you along. title from this
genre: fluff
auds here... i hope you enjoy this!!! i too am a commitment-afflicted girl ..... it truly is tough lol. but i hope u find the right person who helps u put ur anxieties to rest <3 insp by a scene from satc i saw on tiktok
It started with a duck. But the duck started with the box. And the box started with a toothbrush joke. And the toothbrush joke started with your old lady neighbor moving out. So really, it started with Mrs. McDonnell and her massive moving van rolling down the street and leaving the flat next door empty. Somehow that old hag had managed to irritate you long after she left, albeit through means not her own.
In terms of time, it started a month ago. In terms of people (sans the old bitch), it started with Carlos, as so many of your stories do. “Mrs. McDonald finally moved out today,” he’d said, hip against your stove, watching bits of garlic turn from pale to brown. From the living room you hummed affirmation and then laughed: “McDonnell.”
“Donald, Donnell, Dinero,” he rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s moving in and out. Charles bought a new place in Monaco.”
“Well,” you shrugged, fixing the ridden-up hem of your tank top, “you could have an extra toothbrush in here, if that gets y’there.”
He laughed, pointing at you with the oil-hot rubber tip of the spatula. You two had been dating for over a year at that point, yet any suggestions of moving in together remained vague, cloudish ideas in both of your heads. For him it was impractical; for you it was a little scary.
But a toothbrush, which he always had at your flat and you at his, wasn’t moving in together. Neither was a drawer of clothes and knick-knacks. It was a symbol of your busy lives and the intermittent intersections far and few between.
Except they’d been becoming less intermittent and a lot more constant. He was almost always at your flat, the wide two-bedroom you’d decided was a good place to live with your income and the area. You had two parking spaces, a good rep with the board, and a coffee shop across the street—a place all your own.
A little plus was you had Carlos on some free days, like that day—that fateful day he turned back to the pan and said, with a smile: “I should move in.”
You froze. “You’re asking—you’re telling me or the garlic?” In fits of nerves, you could only blurt out bad jokes.
He laughed but it was a small exhale of breath. “I’m serious.” He turned to you, brown eyes big.
Your heart swelled with something between apprehension and absolute excitement, that finally you were going to take a step you felt like you’d been waiting to take forever. “You are?” You asked, so giddily you could hear your own smile.
The truth was, you had moved in with a boyfriend before, offered him a key and suggested the entire affair, bought fresh flowers and cooked eggs and made coffee and lived the bliss you only read about in romance novels. Months later you caught him fucking somebody else in your bedroom, and years later the memory fails to purge itself from your mind or your habits, plaguing every inner thought you have.
But this, you assure yourself, is Carlos.
“Dead seriou—uuooof!” Carlos barely got to the end of his sentence, with the way you barrelled into him, smiling into the blocky build of his chest and muttering a repetitive yes yes yes into the cotton of his tee. He held you there, pressing a kiss to your hair and promising he’d be in with his boxes as soon as time made way.
—
“Make way,” you yell into the tiny gap between your door and its frame.
“Hey, hi, hello,” your boyfriend sing-songs. “How are you?”
In the month you’d spent watching your boyfriend move into your flat, you’d also been subjected to your complete lack of personal space. Every time you entered, he’d be there talking his head off. Every time you came home at night, he’d be there. You felt suffocated. Scared, even if you couldn’t sleep at night without some part of you touching him. You’re simply a human with needs, and you needed space. You needed silence. Needed it. Absolutely needed it. You knew this because every time you opened your own door, it collided with a—
“Box.” You shove yourself through the gap and wedge the door closed, pointing an accusatory finger at the cardboard. “Another box by the door. Don’t make me burn those,” you mutter, fussing with your hair and toeing off your Blahniks. Across the foyer, Carlos is nailing something into the wall, noisy and incessant and you want to shrink into the floor.
“Sorry, sorry. Lo siento. I have so many stuff.”
“Yeah! You do. My flat’s only nay fucking big,” you respond, raising your pointer finger and thumb to exaggerate the size of your (in actuality, wide) living space. “Carlos, couldn’t you unpack some of these? Just some. It’s—you know, it’s piling up. And you know I hate mess.”
“I know, baby. I will as soon as I finish this up. I promise.”
You nod once, sighing and moving into the study to gather your laptop for work. You’re halfway into the room, eyes scanning your desk’s surface and finding your Mac laying flat atop it, unassuming next to a figurine of a wooden duck. You pause and blink. The wooden duck does not, its eyes painted wide and smooth and you definitely did not purchase this duck.
Somehow, this is the straw that breaks your back.
“What is this duck doing here?!” You yell, voice loud even from the study into the foyer. Carlos pulls off the goggles he’d been wearing to drill shit into your wall and smiles. A gift from me.
“A gif—I, I, I don’t like ducks.” You flail your arms around. “I just
 hearing you talk or drill as soon as I come into my own home feels weird. For so long I’ve been alone and
 and I’m supposed to hear silence and I—I’m scared that you’re going to figure out how scared I am and you’re going to leave me.”
He just stares, eyebrows knitted. You smother a hand over your face. You pause and breathe for a minute, then two.
“It’s just—I’ve only lived with someone three months, and that was ages ago, and before that it was my parents, so. I’m going to be really frank with you and I’m sorry if this sounds
 but I’m gonna close the bedroom door and I don’t want you to talk to me for thirty minutes. I need space. And keep the duck first. I’m sorry. Is that selfish? Is that okay?” When he shakes his head and then nods, you deposit it into his arms and back up into your room.
His face, torn between concerned and endeared, softens into an understanding, patient smile. Okay, he mouths. I love you, you mouth back, and then you’re shutting it softly, leaning your forehead against the white wood and letting a long exhale leave your lips. You half-expected him to fight you back, to raise his voice, but it’s your own worst expectations weighing down on you all over again, born out of memories of your ex.
You stay like that for a while, and slowly with the quiet you realize—you find the duck cute.
You like the boxes because they remind you this is becoming a home. You like hearing him talk because it means you know he’s there. (The drilling will always be irritating, but he makes it better.) You don’t dislike anything he does, but you’re not totally lying either: you are scared. Scared of the commitment it’d take to make this a sure thing. The commitment you’d given before and the commitment that’d been betrayed.
But this is Carlos. This is Carlos, who’s understood every part of you, who’s given you time and patience even when you didn’t know how much you needed it. The Carlos who knows how you like your toast, who eats the yolk off your sunny-side eggs and gives you the white of his hard-boiled ones. The Carlos who said I love you first, surprising you into shock, and then took it back in embarrassment before you cut him off with a kiss. The Carlos who stays.
The air clears and you breathe easier. You open the door after five minutes. “You okay?”
He’s unpacking a box. He turns and smiles wryly, mimicking a zip motion across his lips. He shakes his head. No talking, remember?
You pout, smiling. “Sorry if I’m neurotic.”
You pad softly toward him and it’s easy, too easy for him to pick you up into his arms, wrap your legs around his waist, stay standing and hugging you. He’s quiet still, patient, warm. “I like hearing you talk. I like your boxes. I like that you’re mine and we’re here.” You inhale. “‘M just scared. And I don’t
 want to be, but I am, and
 it’s just me. I’m crazy.”
“Hey, Crazy. So am I. Take your time.” He hugs you tighter. “I’m not gonna leave you, even if you hated the duck.” I didn’t, you say quietly. It was cute. “I know it’s hard, baby. I know. You have to let me take care of you. You have me, okay? You have me.”
“And when you’re not here?” Fear slithers up and tries to tug at you but his arms are around you, secure and holding you there, so you don’t let it.
The thing with needs, really, is when they’re met—met in the best, most understanding way, especially

He kisses your neck. “I’ll always be.”

You find you no longer need them at all.
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