#he's like. i keep trying to warn her away while also trying to get closer

[awriterinthenight]

"I Might Even Be In Love With You"

requested: anonymous

words: 1233

warning: swearing, that's really it besides the two idiots being oblivious af

summary: Fred Weasley is obsessed with you, a Hufflepuff student, but he's too afraid to admit it, and you're too afraid to admit you love him too

If you looked up the word 'obsessed' in the dictionary, you would find a very distressed picture of Fred Weasley. Fred was obsessed, and every synonym for the word. His entire day revolved around a Hufflepuff girl, who was now the only reason he believed the world still spun. Fred now truly believed nothing mattered before he met her. All that mattered was that she was here now and it was as if he was attached by a red string that kept him tethered to her.

You were everything to Fred and he made sure to keep a firm grip on you. He would be damned if he let you be the one that got away. He might've taken this a bit too literally, since he always had a hand on you.

When you sat together at breakfast when you snuck over to the Gryffindor table, Fred either had his arm around you, or his hand on your thigh, which was becoming more common the longer you knew him. When you hung out with your friends his arm was either around your waist, or he was holding your hand. In class together he would move your chair closer to his, once again resting his hand on your leg, or his arm on the back of your chair.

Fred was notorious for being late to class, but you didn't know that. Fred would walk with you, his hand on the small of your back to guide you through the corridor, to all your classes.

"Aren't you going to be late to your own classes?" you would ask, concerned he would be late, even though he'd rather skip class just to be with you, but this was his best option.

He knew you'd tell him to stop walking you to class if he told you the truth, so he continued to lie, "My class is just down the hall, it's fine, love," he would say, starting to call you 'love' more often.

You reluctantly accepted that he would walk you to class everyday as long as he wasn't late for his own classes. Fred had become your own personal shadow, which you didn't hate. You enjoyed Fred's presence, and how wherever he was you were immediately drawn to him. It was his laugh, or the way he made everyone around him laugh. The smile that was always on his face, or the way he put a smile on everyone's face. Everything about him was perfect to you.

He made you smile, laugh, feel safe around him, and every time he touched you in some way it gave you butterflies. You had the biggest crush, if it was even that anymore, it was more like you were irreparably in love with him. The only thing was that even though it seemed obvious, you still didn't think Fred returned your feelings for him. Anyone sane would say it was obvious, but to you Fred was always laughing and joking with everyone, the same way he was with you, just maybe less touchy, so you didn't know if he liked you or not, and decided to play it safe.

Luckily your friends were also fed up with you and Fred doing the world's most complicated dance to avoid saying your feelings for each other while also putting them all on display for each other. Angelina was currently trying to knock some sense into you, as the two of you hung out in her dorm room that you snuck into.

"When will you accept that he's obsessed with you, and you both are crazy in love with each other, and will one day be married with 5 kids," Angelina said, annoyed by how you were so blind to all of this.

You let out a sigh, "We don't actually know that, and shut up with the whole 5 kids thing, I swear you add one more each time we have this conversation," you told her, putting your head in your hands.

Angelina was moments away from knocking some sense into you, literally, but lucky for you Katie walked in the room, "Katie, please tell our oblivious friend here, that Fred Weasley is in love with her, and there's no denying it," Angelina said, desperate to get her friend to finally come to the realisation.

Katie looked like she'd just been told the most outrageous thing ever, which she just had, "How do you not see that he's completely in love with you. I mean he's late to class almost everyday because of you-" she cut herself off, but not fast enough to realise her mistake.

Your head sprung up, shocked by her words, "What do you mean he's late to class because of me?"

"Well, the thing is," Katie started, looking a bit nervous, "He told us not to tell you because he knew if you found out you'd stop him from walking you to class, so he had us not tell you," she explained, looking apologetic for letting the secret slip.

"Wait, but why would he do that unless," you said, the lightbulb in your head finally turning on, "I'll be right back," you were not going to be back actually. Angelina was finally relieved that you finally realised, so much so that she was on the verge of throwing a party.

You found Fred talking to George in an empty corridor. Fred saw you and ushered for George to leave, so that it was just you and Fred, "Hello, love, what can I do for you?" he asked, leaning against the wall with his trademark smile on his face.

"You lied to me," you stated, causing him to look confused, then realise what you were talking about.

Fred continued to smile at you, but pushed off the wall moving closer to you, "I'm sorry, love, but I just knew if I told you the truth you'd make me stop walking you to class," he defended.

You crossed your arms, "But why did you do it?" you asked, needing to confirm the truth before you said it out loud.

"Lie to you? I told you why, you'd make me stop-" he said, deflecting from the question, since he knew what you truly meant.

"No, I mean why did you walk me to class even if you knew you'd be late."

Fred let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding in, "I-I, I don't know I just like walking you to class, since I-I," he said, continuing to stumble a bit, which was unusual, "I really like you, I might even be in love with you," he confessed.

You were shocked and at a loss for words, but tried to pull yourself together as best as possible, "I really like you too, love you even," you confessed also, beaming from how overjoyed you felt.

Fred moved even closer to you, wrapping his hands around your waist, leaning in a bit, "There's usually something two people do when they're in love with each other," Fred hinted at playfully.

"Oh yeah, and what's that," you teased. Fred wasted no time connecting your lips together. Your hands found the back of his head, running them through his hair, while his hands stayed on your waist. Both of your torments were finally over. You could be in love forever, and in the words of Angelina get married and have 6 kids.

[blu3-ja3]

Did I plan to write a feral/murderous O'Connor and how she nearly breaks completely... No! Not at all. But the idea of watching my most stable character slowly breaking is interesting to me so enjoy! This will in first person pov not the usual third person limited that I tend to rock. Enjoy!

!TRIGGER WARNING! Graphic Depictions of Torture and Murder, Psychological Break, Guns, Forceful Drug Use, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Sexual Harassment, Severe Disassociation

I'm telling y'all this dark. I don't know what's wormed it's way into my brain but it's not leaving till I have this out. Should I probably not post this? Yes! Am I going to anyways also yes!

🕊️!DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!🕊️

Day 1: It's to be a simple week-long mission, my team and I are going into Urzikstan to render aid to civilians. Laswell made it abundantly clear this was just to help where we could, if there's combat we are not to interfere. Farah assured Laswell nothing has occurred and that this is purely to assist with the aftermath. So none of the other 141 came with me. I was a little worried for them as they're being sent on a few low intensity missions also, but I've always enjoyed working with civilians so I took the mission and calmed myself. I'm currently sitting in the large red cross tent updating Price and Laswell. Today was mostly for setting up and preparing nothing too intense.

Day 2: It's been busy, there's plenty of work for me and my team to do. Everything from simple injuries like scratches and to complex burns and stitches. We're mostly treating infections and illnesses but it's been nice talking with the locals and learning of their rebuilding efforts. Alex and Farah help with translation and organization, keeping everything flowing nicely. It's been exhausting but fulfilling, I try to give Laswell an update but I can't seem to get through so I'll try again tomorrow. Probably have to get closer to a long ranged receiver but that's a tomorrow problem.

Day 3: A young man came to my tent asking if I could do a house call, his grandfather was very sick and in no shape to travel. I agree to help before informing my lieutenant of where I'll be and to radio me if something urgent needs my attention. He's a fast kid but I keep pace well enough, my basic medical bag is with me along with my pistol; visible at my side, and my knife; hidden within my clothing. We arrive at a small metal shack with no windows and a small door.

The young man enters before me, holding the door open and waving me in. I have to duck to get through the door. I spotted the old man instantly, he's laying with his back towards us so I can't get a good look at him just yet. I move over to the laying figure and sit on my knees next to him, placing my aid bag down to my right.

I hear rapid shuffling as something hard is pressed to the back of my head. I know that feeling anywhere, this isn't my first time being robbed while on call. Closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and raising my hands slowly. When I open my eyes again the figure in front of me rolls over holding a rifle, it's hard for me to make out in the dim lighting.

"There's only mild pain relievers in my bag, I don't carry anything stronger when on a house call." I try to keep my voice calm and even as the barrel of the gun moves a bit lower towards my neck.

"We're not here for the drugs, we're here for you; Captain Maevis O'Connor: Second Commanding Officer of the SAS's 141 squadron and dear friend to one Captain John Price... That is you no?" A man's voice with a thick Russian accent comes from the room to my left. I don't recognize the voice but they know me which is worrying.

"You are going to be very helpful and tell us all we ask... Or you die! Understood?" I nod my head slowly trying to catch a glimpse of the figure talking but I can't see him.

"Now take her away, we'll talk in better conditions!" Before I can respond I feel a cloth cover my mouth and nose as the man in front of me reaches out and holds the cloth there. I try to struggle, to reach for my radio or gun, anything, but my limbs go weak and my vision fades.

I wake up to cold water splashing against me, bright lights on my face causing me to squint. I try to move my arms but they're bound, my legs are free though. I'm stripped down to just my tank top and cargo pants, no boots or socks. I blink against the light as a masculine figure moves in front of me. He reaches towards me to grab my face, I try to pull back before he grabs my chin.

"You lamb are going to tell me everything you know willingly... Or we'll break you and you'll tell us after. Which would you prefer?"

I turn my head into his hand and bite as hard as I can, I can taste blood in my mouth but I continue biting. A heavy blow to my gut caused me to release my hold. I hear the man cursing in Russian as I receive another blow to my stomach.

"Don't do this Lamb, it will not go how you plan. Please I hate to beat a woman with such a pretty face but I will if I have too."

"Go feck yourself..."

"I just want to know about your wonderful Captain, you see he knows about the location of a very good friend of mine and I would like to see him. Now you're his second in command and a very close ally to John, you must know something about where my friend is, no?"

"Doesn't ring any bells"

"Ah! But I haven't told you my friends name yet! Aren't you a little bit curious?"

"No, don't care either..." Another punch this time higher just below my sternum. I wheeze a bit from the blow.

"Hmm, so you truly haven't heard about the failings of Price to Vladimir Makarov?"

I freeze a bit at the name, I've never heard anything from John himself but Laswell gave me the operation file. There was a lot of blacked out text even at my clearance but from what I could read it's a good thing he's in some unknown black site prison. This isn't going to go well for me, even if I tell them everything I know I doubt they'll believe me nor will they let me go.

"I know of him but they never let me read the operation file. Wasn't interested in reading about a mad man who's dead in a ditch somewhere..."

"AH! But he's not dead, he's very much alive Ms. O'Connor... And you will tell me where."

Another punch, harder this time, the man says something in Russian and I only pick up a few words. Nothing helpful, I feel stupid for never taking Nikoli up on his offer to teach me more than just the basics.

The figure punching me laughs and walks out of my field of view. It's a small field of view due to the bright light shining directly into my face. I feel myself being grabbed by my arms and pulled up, the light in front of me moves and I can see I'm in a very simple concrete cell, no bed, bathroom, nothing just a pipe coming from over top all the way through to the other side and a small table with a chain on it.

The Russian man who was talking has his back to me as he opens the door. I throw my head back hard into the skull of the man holding me from behind and his grip loosens. I take my opportunity to bum rush the man, slamming myself hard against him and the open door. He's knocked prone as I continue to run. Blood pumping in my ears to turn a corner and come face to face with two very heavily armed guards. I try to rush past them but they grab me and pull me back, I kick and flail trying to get another opportunity to escape.

"Oh how I wish you didn't do that Lamb, now my friend will have to teach you a lesson. Demetrius?" A figure steps out of the cell I was in, he has a bloody nose. I feel a small twinge of satisfaction from seeing it bleeding and swelling.

"Teach her well!" With that I'm tossed back into the cell after a guard bounds my ankles, I trip forwards causing the air to be knocked from my lunges. I hear heavy footsteps as the man, Demetrius, looms over me. He steps onto my left leg putting heavy pressure on it, then his full weight as he kicks my side once, knocking the little air in my lungs back out. I watch as he pulls out something shiny and metallic, before placing it onto his hands. I feel a hard blunt pain as his boot connects with my side again, once, twice, three times before he stops. The man over me chuckles darkly as he reaches down and pulls me up by my hair causing most of it to fall out the bun it was tied up in.

He drags me towards the back wall, he grabs something from the table and ties the chain around my wrist. He gets the chain over the pipe and begins to pull me up higher and higher, my toes barely touching the cold cement ground. My arm high above my head stretching my arms and shoulders in an uncomfortable and painful way, there's already a bull ache in my shoulder.

"Such a lovely body." The man's hand begins to caress my hips as I try to move away. He clicks his tongue before stepping away again, he removes his jacket and turns to me with a sadistic smile. He approaches, before landing multiple punches to my stomach and sternum.

Each blow I can feel the brass knuckles he's wearing. There's a slight throbbing pain after every hit, I know I'm going to bruise. He continues to beat me to near unconsciousness before stopping. He leaves me chained up as the first man comes back, he grabs the chair I was in originally and turns it towards me sitting down in front of me.

"Interesting, Demetrius didn't touch your face. I have to say I'm happy about that, you have such a lovely face Lamb." I just stared past him not once looking at him but keeping my head up.

"Come now Lamb if you tell us what we want you'll be free to walk your cell. I'm sure your arms are hurting now, no?" I keep my mouth shut and continue staring forwards. He mumbles to himself before standing to leave.

"Give her half rations and water, you will get more if you speak Lamb."

This cycle continues for a while, Demetrius comes into the cell beats me to near unconsciousness then Wolf (This is the only name I hear anyone call him) comes to try to talk to me. I just stare past him, keeping my head high and my mouth shut. I don't know how much time has passed. I guess a few days but I know Price and the 141 will come. Farah and Alex know I left the area and I've not come back... Unless something has happened to them as well.

I'm not given much food or water, my stomach keeps growling and there's the faint gnawing sensation in my abdomen. I'm kept in the same position, hanging by my bound wrists from the chain above me. Demetrius walks into my cell and drags in a little medical cart. Wolf follows closely behind him before approaching his chair and sits down crossing legs.

"Oh little Lamb you've made this very difficult for us. You've held out well against Demetrius and I must commend you for that." He gives a little clap as Demetrius chuckles darkly next to me.

"But we need the information Lamb so Demetrius is going to start using his favorite tools. Now I'm being kind and giving you one last chance to speak." I see Demetrius picks up a blade and wince as he pulls it across my cheek. I hiss as the pain spreads through my face. I can feel the warm blood trickle down my cheek, it's a stark contrast to the cold cell I'm stuck in.

"Feck. You." I hiss, I know I just have to hold out. My team is coming for me. Price won't abandon me no matter what anyone says. I've seen him do it before for people he's known for less time. Las Almas and Alejandro's team come to my mind as it's the most recent example.

Wolf waves a hand and I feel the sharp dragging pain as Demetrius drags his blade across my upper left arm along the underside. The blade is sharp so I don't feel the pain until after the wound is made, a thumping pain that matches the beating of my heart. I can feel the rapid dripping of my blood, the sound of my blood hitting the ground echoing through the room.

"Lamb? Do you have anything to tell me?"

"You're feckin stupid if you think a simple cut will get me to tell you anything." I stare straight ahead as I try to distract myself from the pain. I can feel another slow pull of the knife across my upper hips ripping through my skin and tank top. I bite my tongue refusing to make any noise.

"Oh come now Lamb let us hear you at least." I keep myself as calm as possible as another cut is pulled across the same hip slightly above the first one. I hear him sigh as Wolf stands up and walks out the cell, turning around to look back towards me.

"If you wish for Demetrius to stop his work all you have to do is talk Ms. O'Connor. Cut her rations again, maybe delirium from starvation will help our little Lamb loosen her lips."

Demetrius continues to slash through my skin and I focus on anything else but the pain. So I start to pull back into my mind. It's like I'm slowly carving a little hole in my consciousness, it's safe and warm there. I can't talk when there as well so I can't let anything slip. Falling into the little cave helps me deal with the pain and hunger, I know I won't have to do this much longer. Price is coming, he'll be here and he will help me get out of here.

I'm dragged out of my head as I feel a hand grab my chin and something slimy drag across my cheek. Demetrius licks up my cheek, collecting my blood and groaning. I feel sick as he meets my eyes and the same maniacal grin spreads across his face. I scream as a piercing pain radiates from my lower right hip, another scream is ripped from my chest as the knife is twisted sharply before being pulled out harshly. The hammering pain matches the rapid beating in my chest.

"Oh so pretty when you cry, I'm going to burn this picture into my mind for later. Thank you Maevis."

He moves away and I quietly cry trying desperately to crawl my way back into the safe little cave in my mind. But this seems to have caved in a little, I can't pull back as far. I can still feel every drag of Demetrius's knife across my chest, arms, thighs, and back. I keep telling myself that it's okay, they're coming. They're going to get me out of here and I'll be safe.

This cycle doesn't last as long as the previous one, or at least I think so, it's hard to tell time. My stomach stopped growling, but the gnawing had spread from my lower abdomen to my chest. Every time I breathe I can feel it biting down on my ribs, like it's trying to eat it way out of me. A wild feral beast chewing at bars of metal in desperation to flee.

Wolf walks in with another man's and Demetrius. I don't bother looking at them keeping my sight fixed on the same spot as before. I've pulled myself out of my head, out of my cave, just a bit to listen to what Wolf has to say. He gives away more than he knows by talking to me. A great little bit of information he's revealed is that he's not the one in charge. He's a middle man.

I keep replaying Ghost's words in my head when he talked to me about combating interrogation. 'Never look at your capture but always listen. If you give them nothing they'll get desperate and will show their hands more often than not. That information can be used and could be more deadly than a weapon. The real task is surviving long enough to know how to use it against them.'

"Lamb, you're being unnecessarily stubborn. You're forcing my hand but again I'm giving you a chance to talk before Ivan is put to work. So I'll ask you again, where is Makarov, what do you know?" He sounds like he's begging, but I'm not stupid and keep my mouth shut.

Wolf sighs and shakes his head, gesturing to the shorter man, Ivan. He approaches me holding a needle with liquid in it. I feel my heart rate spike as I try to move away. I feel a pair of hands grab me and hold me still, I glance back to see Demetrius smiling that same disgusting smile. I start thrashing hard ignoring the pain as I reopen wounds and the strain in my arms and shoulders. I feel a slight prick in my neck and something warm spread through my neck, shoulder, and upper skull.

I retreat into my mind, as far back as I can get hoping that whatever was pushed into my veins would have a harder time affecting me. I know it's unlikely but it's all I can do to comfort myself.

It takes some time for me to feel the changes, everything is brighter... sharper. I can feel every dull ache and thrum of pain across my skin. When Wolf talks it's loud and the lights seem to flicker brighter when he does. He asks his same questions, using the same leverage that isn't that going to change my mind. I'm acutely aware of Demetrius's hands still on my hips, his thumb rubbing circles into my hips. Then he squeezes them and I thrash away from him. Wolf barks something in Russian and Demetrius leaves the room.

'Price is coming, they'll save me. I just have to hold out.' I can feel myself mumbling away, slurring my speech as I keep saying my little mantra. A part of me is very aware saying this out loud isn't a good idea but I can't stop the part of my brain that's blabbering. It's strange how aware I am of myself but unable to control my body. It's because I'm in my safe little cave in my head, just barely keeping my head above the water that has rapidly started flooding in. The pain and drugs mixing with me retreating into myself is dangerous but I'm not drowning. So I stay, breathing calmly, hoping I can pull myself out before I drown.

"Oh Lamb, you truly think Price will come for you? It has been eight days, they do not care for you. Though your little American friend tried to come get you with a small group. We have him in another building, he's faring far better than you. He holds no information that we need so we haven't touched him... Much."

"You're... Wrong! Price... Never! He wouldn't... They'll come... They have to... They will..." I feel something warm slide down my cheeks... Tears, why am I crying? I know they'll come to get me. So why am I crying?

"Poor Lamb is so loyal to someone who has abandoned you, Makarov would never repay such loyalty with this betrayal... Just tell me where he is and I'll personally inform him of your part in his escape."

"No" I hear Wolf goan in frustration before standing and leaving.

"Ivan dose her again when this round wears off. Keep doing so while Demetrius does his usual routine."

Wolf leaves me to Demetrius and Ivan. Demetrius seemed all too happy to continue his work with his knives. He raved about all the foul things he's going to do with me in mind, what he'd like to do to me, how he's more than happy to have such a resilient woman break to him. Every word made me sick and I couldn't handle listening to it anymore. His perverted words mixing with the pain is maddening.

I'm taking a risk, I know it but it's the only way for me to feel safe. I stop trying to float, stopping wading in this water, letting myself sink into thick liquid miasma of drugs and pain. It's calming in a way, everything is muffled and muddy. I feel myself drifting deeper into the strangely numbing cocktail. Safe and comfortable...

I don't know how long I drifted in the cocktail mixture of pain and drugs. I know it's been days, eventually though I resurfaced. Ivan and Demetrius eventually leave as I slowly come down from the drug. My head is pounding and my body feels like it's on fire so I stay tucked away in my flooded cave, head barely above the water. I have to crawl back out a bit as Wolf returns to my cell.

"I tried Lamb, I tried very hard to keep you out of Sergey's room but you are too stubborn. Demetrius get her down."

My ankles are untied and the chain holding me up lowers. I can't help the sigh of relief as my arms fall in front of me. I stumbled forward as I felt a hand shoving me forwards, I got the hint and started walking. There are two armed figures in front and behind me, Demetrius and Wolf to my left and right.

I'm forced to walk for a bit, passing other cells most are empty or impossible to see in. The ones with people in them aren't looking any better than me. Eventually we reach a door and I'm shoved through. It's another cement room with a small window at the top of the far back wall. It's dark I can see there's outlines in the dark of items but I can only make out a few things. There's a light on over a single chair and there's a man standing next to the chair. That's the one thing I can see clearly.

I'm shoved into the chair, my hands are rebound behind the chair. My legs are bound together and then tied to the front two legs. Wolf sits down in another chair in front of me, Demetrius leans against the wall next to the door, and the other man, Sergey walks behind me, draping a rope around the front of me and placing both hands on my shoulders.

"I suggest you speak up now Lamb, Sergey isn't going to give you much time to speak" I stare straight ahead mentally preparing myself for what is next. I don't know if I can fully retreat into myself but I have to protect myself and going there is the only way I know how.

Sergey's hand moved to grab the rope and hold it taunt. I take one last deep breath as the rope is wrapped slowly around my throat. I try to keep calm knowing that if I panic it'll be exactly what they want. But I also know that not panicking will be more difficult as this goes on.

"Last chance Lamb, all you have to do is tell us what you know. You'll be taken back to your cell maybe even get to visit your American friend, yes?"

I say nothing, slowly I feel the rope get tighter and tighter. At first there was not much of a change, it's like breathing with my compression bra and full kit tactical vest. There's a restriction but if you know how to compensate for it, it's not that hard to deal with. Then it's like running for too long, I'm bringing in air but it's shallow. Wheezing and panting, it's not pleasant but it's not enough to kill but it's uncomfortable.

As the rope gets tighter I can feel burning around my throat, the rope rubbing and cutting into the skin making it raw and tender. I can hear my heart beat, feel it thrumming in my skull. You know that feeling when you're holding your breath under water, those last moments of desperation before you push yourself out of the water? Imagine that but there's no surface to break through, I'm just sitting with the feeling. I force myself to retreat deeper into myself.

As soon as I do my body reacts, leg and arms twitching trying to fight against my restraints. My vision begins to blur and blacken around the edges, I can feel my lunges burning like there's fire slowly engulfing my chest. My whole body is thrumming and pounding in tune with my heart, like everything is pulsing. I can feel a cold sheen of sweat across my body, I think I'm crying but it's hard to tell. I think I'm too dehydrated to cry but I'm sweating so I can't be too certain. It's hard to think, to move, to do anything except gasp desperately for air.

I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion, I know if this keeps up I won't be around to see salvation. A part of me is hoping for that little push, to have this all end. I wonder if it would be the same as when I retreat into myself, just floating in the miasma of distant feelings. I wonder if I'll feel the pain of my body slowly fade or if it'll just all disappear at once...

Suddenly the pressure is gone, I'm shunted out of my brain into the driver's seat. I gasp for air, gulping and heaving trying desperately to air in my lungs. The feelings are still there but faint like I'm drifting when I know I'm not. I'm very much in the middle of all of this and I can't retreat to find comfort.

"So are you willing to talk? Because the next thing isn't going to be as nice as this Lamb."

"Go. Feck. Yourself... You can all go rot..." My voice is horse and strained.

"I really do wish you would just cooperate Ms. O'Connor, it's been eleven days... Price is not coming for you. Why protect him?"

I say nothing keeping my expression stoic, but inside I feel something begins to bleed. It's been slowly cracking slightly oozing something into my veins and to my heart. I'm losing hope, I don't want to think of Price abandoning me but it may be my reality. I get nauseous at that thought, because surely at least one of my team is fighting to come and get me, right?

No, this will get me nowhere. "Go eat a bullet"

"Sergey, you have 3 days with our Lamb here. Why not demonstrate the other event she's going to enjoy with you."

Demetrius walks behind me, grabbing the back of my chair and tilting it back holding it there. Sergey ties a cloth over my face and I instantly know I'm going to have to fight. I hear metal creaking and water rushing, footsteps and splashing getting closer and closer. I take a deep breath at the last possible second.

The water splashes over my face covering the cloth. As soon as I can't hold my breath for any longer I begin to move my head taking deep gasping breaths before moving again. Water invades everything, burning as it goes down my nose and throat, stinging as it rushes across the cut on my cheek. I hold my breath as the water moves across my face, I try to keep my movements subtle. I don't want them to be able to predict me. Eventually the water stops and the rag is removed, the rope around my shoulders is being picked up again.

"Good luck Lamb, Sergey doesn't find pleasure in this work so he'll be changing frequently between the two. I'll see you again in 3 days, hopefully after your time spent with Sergey you'll be more talkative."

I watch as Wolf leaves the room and I feel the rope tighten. There's searing pain all across my neck and a pounding in my head. I'm also incredibly cold, being wet causes the rope to slip and a soft cry escapes my lips as more tears fall from my eyes. I hear Demetrius chuckles darkly and fresh tears fall as my air supply is stolen from me again.

The next chunk of time is numbing. Going back and forth between retreating into my mind to being shunted back out in order to survive drowning it breaks a small part of me. I don't want to give up hope but I can't wait any longer, if I stay any longer I'm going to die. Escaping on my own is just as likely to kill me but there's a chance and I can't hold out any longer.

Wolf drags me back to my original cell, putting me back into the same position as before. He sits down in his chair, dismissing Demetrius and bringing another soldier to stand beside him.

"Oh little Lamb you're losing hope, I can tell. There's a dying spark in your eyes. Do you know how long you've been here?"

I keep my head down, refusing to meet his eye but too tired to keep my head up. I'm so tired, I just want this to stop... But there's only one option that will truly make this stop, I have to escape.

"14 days... Two weeks and nothing from your captain or team. I will leave you for now, let you recover for a few days and think about where your loyalty lies Lamb..." Wolf leaves and so too does the guard.

I have a rough plan on how to get out, Wolf has been true to his words so far. Because of that I've had plenty of time to think and realize that the pipe I'm strung up on is loose. If I can just get enough leverage I'd be able to get myself out. Beyond that it's survival but it's my only chance.

I'm receiving a meal again, once a day or at least that's what I assume the cycle is. There's multiple guards when the meal comes so I can't spring the plan then, but it may be my only hope.

I hear the shifting of my cell door and as I look up through my hair I see Wolf approaching with my food. It's just him in the cell but Demetrius is standing outside smiling at me. I feel nauseous again.

"You've had a day to think Lamb, how are you feeling? Maybe a bit of food will help you better come to the right answer."

"I'd think a lot better if I wasn't strung up like a butchered pig."

"I'd let you down if I could but sadly it is not my call Lamb. If you gave us what we needed then we could let you down Lamb." There's a commotion as multiple armed guards come rushing towards the cell.

"Sir! There is multiple armed soldiers invading cell block A! What should we do?"

My heart leaps to my throat, is it them? Are they finally here? Was I right that they'd come for me!?

"Who are they?"

"Mostly armed militia sir, they're only trying to get to cell block A. Its not the men you warned us about!"

No... No that can't be. Why aren't they here... Why have they left me? What did I do wrong? Surely they're here right? They haven't abandoned me... It's Farah coming to Alex... But do they even know I'm here... Does anyone know... Do they think-

"Send all squads except for A and B squads, they will guard the halls here."

My vision pulls back, back into that safe comforting area of mind that I've scraped and clawed at to keep myself sain. That dark bleeding feeling becomes a flood. I'm not in control, I can't be anymore. I'm not capable of it anymore, so float and sink. The flooding of the black fluid emotion seems to be what's moving me now.

The soldiers rush away and Demetrius turns his back to the cell. Wolf is still sitting in front of me with his back to me and he looks distracted. I grab the chain, pull myself up, swing my body forwards and wrap my legs around Wolf's shoulders. I pulled him towards me so I have better leverage and used that to pry the pipe down.

Once the chain and pipe becomes loose I loop the chain tight around Wolf's neck. And then I pull, putting all of my strength until I feel a pop then keep going until there's another pop and Wolf stops flailing. I drop onto the ground with the body of Wolf underneath me.

I stand, dropping the chains, and grabbing the pipe. Demetrius still has his back to the cell, I move towards the bars. Quickly I get the bar out of the cell and in front of Demetrius, I grab both sides and throw my entire weight back. I can feel him thrashing and clawing at my arms.

"Not so fun being on the other side is it?" I can see the panic in his eyes as he tries to turn his head towards me, something inside me purrs with satisfaction. I throw my weight back once more and hold it until he's no longer moving, until he's no longer breathing, there's a purr again. I check both bodies finding Demetrius's brass knuckles and a knife left in the cell. I cut my hand loose of their bindings and take a moment to let relief flood my system.

I open the cell door and go the opposite way the soldiers ran. My body is moving on its own, going from shadow to shadow. It's like I'm watching from a distance, through a thick fog. Everything is murky and hard to see or hear, but I still know what I'm doing.

I know that I'm currently pressed against a wall listening to three lightly armed guards talk to each other. I can feel the excitement and joy as they split off two and one. I can feel the strain of my body as I grab the guard and pull him towards me. The swift movement of my knife across his throat, the warm coating of blood across my hands. The ache and pain from moving the body to better be hidden.

My body doesn't grab his gun, a part of me understands. I have the element of surprise right now and guns are loud, but I can hear another part of me screaming to grab it. That gun is a safety net and we need that small comfort, it sounds desperate as it please. But whatever is in control doesn't care and keeps moving.

Again finding shadow my body approaches the two guards, they stop and turn their backs to each other and stand facing down two opposite directions. Slowly approaching the one on the right and grabs them. Pivoting so the guard so he's facing his buddies as they scream and shout in Russian. The one not grappled turned and sprayed a spread of bullets hitting his friends. There's warmth spreading across my lower abdomen as the body's blood seeps out all over me and the tattered dirty clothes I'm still wearing. He's still alive so my knife and hands get a fresh coat of red.

Grabbing the dead man's side arm and shooting it twice at the chest of the female guard. The two bodies drop and my body is on the move again. It's odd how different my body is on auto pilot, running purely on instinct, adrenaline, and that dark flooding feeling that is all around me.

I know what it's called, what it is but saying it, acknowledging it feels like it will break something in me. Permanently changing something I could never get back. She knows it and I know it, we both know as well that this is the only way to protect us. So She stays in charge, surviving on feral instincts while I sink slowly deeper into our mind. Escaping further and further away from everything because this is how I'll survive.

She finds more guards, four solo roaming the halls. Each one painted our hands and arms with more red, with each kill I can feel myself sinking further and further away. It's odd I've never allowed Her full control like this, She's always there when I kill. That overwhelming emptiness I feel when I pull the trigger... It scares me every time, so I focus on their humanity and the sadness of ending them. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

She finds another two soldiers, dragging the first one away into a shadowy alcove. As soon as the blood on our arms started to cool the other soldier appeared opening fire. The sharp, crystal clear, stab of pain pulls me up to the surface of everything. I have the chance to pull myself into the driver's seat again but it's so comforting to be just drifting. So I let myself sink again, because if I'm going to die then I want to die with whatever comfort I can get... And being adrift in this lonely sea of my mind is the greatest comfort I have.

She moves again tackling our assailant and stabbing into his throat. Standing and moving again we continue down the halls. Then there's the unmistakable sound of rapid gun fire down the hall in front of us. She ducts into the shadows again, slowly moving us towards three figures... All of their backs turned towards us. Distracted by something else and not paying attention to the danger right behind them. I can feel the deep satisfaction She purrs out as it echoes through the waters I'm floating in.

The one furthest back is the first to go as She launches herself onto the back of the first guard. Our knife finds a home in his neck, three times as more red coats more of our body. He's still holding his rifle and all it takes is for her to aim towards the second soldier, his friends impulses do the rest it unloads into number twos back.

I feel myself slipping further away, I can't handle being so close. I can feel everything, the thrumming of pain, the pumping of adrenaline, the warmth of blood soaking my body... The lack of emotions... There's nothing, just death. And that scares me so I sink further below, into the comforts of my mind.

Still holding the body She turns towards the last soldier as he fires repeatedly into his fellow guard's body. Only once he starts to reload his rifle does She begin to move, surging forwards and tackling him to the ground. It's only once we're on the ground that it seems to register that our beloved knife is in the neck of the first guard. Thankfully though we have the brass knuckles from Demetrius's cold corpse.

There's a difference between slicing someone's neck open and beating someone to death. It's a difference I never wanted to know but I do now, I can't seem to slip far enough away. I can feel everything, every crack of bone, every splitting of skin, and every splatter of blood. I force myself further away, I can't deal with this.

She grabs the soldier's knife and stabs it into his chest. I can hear the movement even through the pounding of our heart and our heavy breathing. She turns pulling our new knife from the guard's chest and begins to move towards the last living guard. She stood over him before falling to our knees, one on either side of him.

"No, please... Please! PLEA-" His begging is interrupted as the first stab goes into his back, puncturing a lunge. A lung being stabbed while some is talking isn't a pleasant sound. There's a rushing of garbled air that escapes the mouth. His pleas get quieter and quieter as her stabs get louder and more frequent. Only stopping once the guard stops moving. Something moves in front of us and I can feel the blood thirst spike again.

"O'Connor are you okay?"

Wait I know that voice! We know that voice!

She stands up gripping the knife tightly, that the same purr echoes around me. Excited for more blood...

"Calm down you're hurt, we can get you out!"

No no no no! Stop! We know him! It's Soap! He's a friend! He's our boy!

I try desperately to swim up, I have to gain control. I can't stay here but it's so hard to get out. Why? It's been so easy before to pull myself to the surface and out into control, why has it changed? I can't get to him in time. I watch in horror, trapped in my own mind, as my body moves to kill Soap.

Something large, dark, and strong grapples my body dragging Her away. I see the white skull and panicked blue eye of Ghost. I continue to claw desperately in my own mind. What once was a comfort, a way to keep myself sane and safe, now feels like another prison for me to escape... Because if I don't I may kill my boys.

Ghost gets the knife out of our hand and prevents Her from grabbing his knife attached to the vest he's wearing. I can hear Soap begging for me to calm down and every part of me is screaming the same thing. Ghost is a formidable opponent when sparing but we're evenly matched, though he tends to win a few more rounds. I hope more than anything that today is one of those days that he predicts the winning move right.

She goes to lunge again and Ghost predicts it, dodging to the side before moving to pin our body against the ground. Positioning himself better, he puts me into a headlock before sitting back. He wraps his left leg around and pins our left leg, properly preventing Her from getting any leverage.

"O'Connor please, calm down. It's just me and Johnny, we're not here to hurt you!"

She continues thrashing and growling, I can feel Ghost squeeze harder. I can feel our nails dig into Ghost's arm. At first there was only fabric but then I heard something rip and I could feel flesh. Ghost squeezes harder and the same suffocating feeling overcomes me but this time I truly hope I don't get the chance to resurface. Because I'm not sure I can get back into control in time.

"Calm down O'Connor!"

Slowly the thrashing stops and I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness. Finally I resurface but I know it's too late so I give into the oblivion of sleep.

I'm floating again, but there's something wrong. This isn't me shielding myself from something happening, this is the familiar in-between of conscious and unconscious. That state where your mind is awake and your body is still out. I focus on what I can remember and panic floods everything, the torturing, my escape, the disconnect getting worse, my feral frenzy, Soap and Ghost. Suddenly the curtain is lifted and I can hear myself screaming.

I'm sitting up, pushed far back against the bed, breathing heavily. I'm in a hospital room not a concrete cell and all the tension and panic is gone. I look to see everyone here, Laswell, Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Roach. I feel tears streak down my cheeks as they check in on me and indulge me in a group hug.

Eventually I was discharged and learned I was kidnapped by the Russian ultra nationalist extremist group. They were keeping tabs on Farah hoping to catch Price the next time they interact together... But I was the second best opinion. Farah and Alex visited me in the hospital and explained what happened.

My lieutenant never informed anyone about me going out for a house call despite regulation. It got chaotic and busy very fast. It took Farah going to look for me about two days later to realize I was missing, it was only then that the lieutenant spoke up. Alex manages to track down the young man who lured me away. He learns the young man's sister was being held hostage and that luring me away was the only way she'd be set free.

It took four days to find the prison sight, only for their attempt to break in to fail and gets Alex captured. Farah the entire time was trying to get ahold of someone from the 141, anyone but nothing was going through. By the time Farah managed to get something through Price was already on his way. I feel relief knowing they were looking for me, trying to find me but I feel a bit of resentment towards how long it took. I know logically why it would've taken so long but I can't seem to shake the bitter resentment that has made it's home next to my heart.

Everyone was with me as we had to drive and again I felt myself crying. I hate that I doubted them but that small dark part was whispering that it was a reasonable thing to do. Before we leave the hospital to go back to base, Laswell stops me.

"Maevis, before you return to base I have a massage from Quinn..." There's anxiety in Kate's voice as she hands me a small envelope. "I'm sorry she's had a change of heart. I wanted to tell you before you got to base... You usually try to talk to her and I know you'd likely try..." (My friend no longer wants her OC to be in a lesbian relationship, is okay that happens! Love you Jules)

I spent the ride back to the base thinking; about Quinn, about my most recent experience, about those who've stuck beside me and tried to save me... About the shame and frustration I felt and still feel. There's a whirlwind of a million thoughts and emotions in my head and I can't focus on a single one.

Once back on base Price calls me into his office, we walk together into the room. I sat in front of his desk chair expecting him to sit there, instead he sat in the chair next to me. He had his hands clasped together with his head down causing the shadow from his bucket hat to cover his face.

"John? Wha-"

"I'm sorry it took us so long Maevis... There's no excuse for it. I should have known something was wrong the moment our communication stopped. As soon as you didn't come back from the week deployment I should have pulled everyone back from their ops and looked into it."

"John... You couldn't have known, Farah already told us that their communication was compromised. You also had multiple small operations going that you had to pay attention to. I was the one least likely to be in danger, I had Farah and Alex with me and a full squad dealing with injured civilians. I'm fine now..." I try to keep the tears in but I can feel the warmth of them falling onto my cheeks.

"15 days and 12 hours... You had multiple lacerations, bruising, and rope burns. You were severely starved and was extremely close to death by dehydration. Not to mention the lack of sleep and the cocktail of drugs in your system... You were tortured within an inch of your life and you managed to escape. You don't experience all of that and walk out fine." Price looks at me with that look. The same look he gives he'll give one of the youngsters after a particularly rough day. Thankfully this isn't the first time I've cried in front of Price so I don't feel ashamed or embarrassed.

"That's not the worst part for me though John! I... Sweet Jaesus I thought you'd never come. That you'd left me or that you couldn't find me." Price placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it slightly to comfort me.

"Then Farah's team broke into the wrong cell block and something snapped. I was so confused and hurt... I was angry... I felt... Hopeless like no matter what I was going to die so I at least wanted to die trying to get out of there..." I was struggling to breathe as the words kept tumbling out, I just kept blabbering about everything that happened. Everything came out, I told Price everything that I experienced and how I coped with it.

"I'm sorry Maevis, I'm so sorry..." John pulls me into a long hug after I finish talking. We stayed like that for a while John holding me while I cried into his shoulder. It reminds me of when we were younger, all those rough nights with Will, questioning if I made the right choices. Eventually though I calm down and I leave to debrief some random Superior Officer with everything that happened and what I learned.

An hour and a half of me going into graphic details and some high ranking general asking stupid questions. Once I'm finally dismissed the cantina is closed and I'm not in the mood to go to the rec room so I just walk to my office. I have to replace my bandages anyways. I open my office door to see Gaz sitting in front of my desk. He turns and smiles at me as soon as I close the door.

"You didn't come to dinner and Price told us you had to talk to your COs and answer questions... I noticed you still weren't out of your meeting as the cantina was about to close so I grabbed your dinner..." It was then that I noticed the tray of food on my desk, still warm.

"Thank you Gaz, that's very thoughtful of you." I walk over and sit across from him. We chat for a bit while I eat, he tells me about the mission he and Roach were sent on. It was just some simple recon with plenty of gorgeous views.

"Would you like help with some of your bandages? I know they're difficult to replace alone and I'm already here..." I smile at Gaz before nodding. I'm wearing a tank top with loose pants because of all the bandages and how uncomfortable they are when I wear a turtle neck. Though I have been wearing my hoodie.

It takes a bit and by the time Gaz finishes helping me with my arm and neck it's late into the night. I tell him I can get the rest on my own and that he should go to bed. After Gaz leaves and I finish replacing my bandages I go to bed.

It's been a few days since I've been dismissed from the hospital and put on medical leave. I'm having trouble sleeping consistently so I'm currently out for a late night walk. It was raining earlier today and now it's the perfect weather for a night walk. I'm slowly walking around the outside of the furthest hanger.

I don't see or hear anyone when suddenly there's a figure behind me. I feel myself shunted out of the driver's seat and into that same miasma from before, my vision loses focus and my body reacts before I can even comprehend. I spin and grab the figure shoving them hard against the building. I look to see Roach is who I have pinned.

Roach who has a look of shock and pain written across he face... He has fear in his eyes, he's scared of me. And that realization pulls me back so fast I wonder if I can mental whiplash. I quickly let go of my hold on the boy and step back. Shame floods senses and blurring my vision.

"I- I'm so sorry Roach... I don't know what came over me! Are you okay?" I can hear the fear in my own voice and the tears welling up in my eyes. I try to keep them at bay but they start flowing freely. Because instead of saying or signing anything to me, Roach steps forwards and pulls me into a hug. I cling to him as the tears continue their journey.

"I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you, to scare you... I don't know why I did that, I've never done that before... I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" It's getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Mom, calm down... Breathe for me yeah?" Roach pulls back a bit and places my hand onto his chest above his heart. I can feel the faintest thumping of his heart and the inhale, exhale of his chest. I unintentionally start breathing in sync with him, calming me down.

"I snuck up on you, you reacted. You didn't hurt me, I was just caught off guard. I wanted to ask if you'd like to walk with me?" I nod not trusting my voice.

We walk together in relative silence, occasionally being broken up by small chats or Ripley barking at Roach to throw her ball. We eventually make our way back into the barracks and split up to go to our different rooms. I'm physically exhausted which helps me shut off my brain a bit and fall asleep easier.

I'm sitting in my office catching up on paperwork when two figures appear in my doorway. I look up to see Ghost and Soap walking in and sitting across from me at my desk. I set aside what I was doing to give the duo my full attention.

"I wanted to say thank you for getting me out of that prison and I'm sorry for attac-"

"Don't apologize Doc" Ghost cuts me off and Soap nods in agreement. Soap stares at me, like he's looking for something before speaking.

"LT said it best, you weren't yourself. Whatever attacked us was running on pure instinct alone... Though that was scary as hell, you were horrifying. I'd say almost as scary as Ghost!" Soap was smiling as Ghost gave the sergeant a slight shove on his shoulder.

"But seriously I don't ever want to be in your sights like that again. You looked ready to tear my head off and play football with it, if Ghost hadn't jumped in when he did." Soap got this far off look before he continued to speak. "I really hope none of us have to see you like that ever again... It felt so wrong to watch you act so ruthless."

" I'm sorry you had to witness that... It scared me too, I didn't feel in control at all. It was like I was locked away in my own head watching my body react without my input... I hated it." Ghost nods his head with this knowing look in his eyes.

"Doc... Roach told me about last night, he told me you had the same look in your eyes..." I look at Ghost and he has a familiar glint in his eyes.

"While I was..." I make a vague gesture. "Anytime it got to be too much I slipped into my head, it was the only place that felt safe." I focused on a spot behind their heads. I felt like I couldn't look at them as I talked about this.

"Eventually I just stayed there, only resurfacing to listen to that bastard talk. But there was something breaking that I couldn't fix... And then the dam broke and I just kept sinking further and further down..." I felt the warmth of fresh tears on my cheeks and I just want to curl into myself.

"Is it fixed? The dam?"

"I don't think so, there's still a leak I can feel it slowly oozing near my heart. It was worse the first few days in the hospital..."

"What will it take for that dam to break again? Will it break again..."

"I don't know honestly... It will... Now that it's broken I don't think I can go back to normal." I look at Ghost and we maintain eye contact, silently acknowledging each other.

"How do we help you when it happens again Doc?"

"Knock me out, after that... I'm not sure... I've been struggling to figure out how to cope with everything. I'm still physically recovering so I can't really do what I'd normally do. I can't workout or go to the range and I can't just throw myself into a mission because I've been sidelined." I rub my temples as I think a bit more before sighing.

"Usually I'd read but I haven't gone into town to buy any new books... Though I suppose I can, now that I'm sidelined for a bit."

"Then that's what you do Doc... Trust me it takes some time to get back to some form of normalcy after something like that. You won't be the same, there's permanent changes from what happened." Ghost has the same sad look in his eyes, every time I look at him since I've woken up in the hospital.

It's not a look of pity, it's a look of understanding. Like he knows exactly what I went through and I know he does. He probably understands better than anyone even me. There's a sense of camaraderie between us now... A camaraderie that neither of us wanted the other to understand, but sadly that's not the case. Instead it's nice to know that there's someone here who can intimately understand the why behind something.

I'm not alone, a sad but comforting fact.

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

7 - Highway To The Danger Zone

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: mentions of smutty things but none, otherwise nothing spectacular

A/N: Please don't hesitate to reblog and leave comments! I wanna know what y'all think! Pop on over to my Twisters story if you haven't read that for a Jake cameo too! Yes, this story and that one are connected! This is part 2 of that series. Part 3 will be coming soonish, and even as I'm writing part 3, stuff for these two fics will still be written! Please enjoy! And keep an eye on the playlists as they'll be getting updated again soon too!

Taglist: @mrsevans90

Playlist

Jake awoke early as usual, but groggy as fuck. They hadn't had any alcohol so the only thing he could think of as a reason for that was how extremely turned on he had been last night. He hadn't been that horny in years. In his book, that had been some of the best sex he'd ever had. Even better than that Captain he'd fucked in Lemoore while they were off duty. And she was a smoke show if nothing else. But with Sam it felt different. It was different. So different.

Jake's heart was dictating all of his actions. The way he felt for Sam in just a couple of short weeks had him reeling. It had him acting fucking silly. He couldn't explain what exactly it was because it was so many things, but he knew what had sparked it. Her attitude. She was sassy and confident and she had been so last night in bed too. There had been a shared dominant energy in the room that Jake had enjoyed. The majority of women he'd been with just wanted to fuck a navy guy so they pretty much let him do whatever so he rarely went down on them. He had a hard and fast rule that his mouth didn't go below the belt if he didn't know the girl well enough, and he always used a condom. 

He knew he was going to break both of those rules for Sam. He almost did last night. He’d almost let her trick him into sliding in without the condom, but he stopped himself. He wanted this relationship to work, but neither of them needed any more stress than they already had. Her stresses were his. He’d promised that. He begged her to let him take some of the strain, to dump it on him when she needed it. 

He felt her stir beside him, as she rolled to face away from him. She pressed her ass up against his hard morning wood and he groaned and his eyes rolled back from how goddamn good she felt. While he had elected to put his boxers back on last night, Sam had decided against clothing and Jake was more than thankful for that. He ran his finger tips up and down her side so feather light that as she awoke, her brain was not aware of it, but her body responded with a shiver anyway. Her back was arched slightly, so Jake let his hand travel across the soft skin and up to her shoulders, where he massaged for a few moments each. He could see the smile forming on her lips as she rolled again to face him.

“Sleep well, pretty girl?” He asked and she nodded, opening one eye to look at him.

“Did you? Also, is that a missile in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” She giggled and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer so that he could kiss her. His lips met her forehead first, then the tip of her nose, and then her mouth. She shrugged away slightly, trying to bury her face in his chest but he wouldn’t let her.

“Ah, don’t get shy on me now. Course I’m happy to see you.” He said and reached a hand down to tilt her chin up. He kissed her, this time poking his tongue out. She shook her head.

“I have morning breath.” She whispered and he kissed her again. She laughed louder this time, forgetting to care that anyone else might be home.

“Yuh, I do too, so what? Actually, my breath probably smells like your pussy. That was a pretty good night time snack I had.” He growled and Sam gently punched him in the chest.

“Jake!” She barked with a huge smile.

“Oh fuck,” he sighed, and then he almost spilled the beans, “Sam, I lov-like you...I like you a lot...”

“I like you too, Jake. A lot.” She said back, tilting her head and leaving her chocolate brown eyes to cast a spell on him and he was all too willing to let it happen. 

They took their time getting dressed, stealing kisses and passing touches here and there. For several moments, Sam felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She didn't feel the pain of impending grief, nor the thought of being without her father and best friend. All she was thinking about was Jake.

Sam led Jake down to the kitchen where her mom was making Ice a smoothie. Ice turned in his seat and smiled. Her mother took a sip of her coffee and tapped her foot as she looked at the two young adults.

“Samantha...what's the rule about boys?” Her mother asked and Ice had a shit eating grin on his face.

‘Mom...I just graduated college...” Sam scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. 

“And you still live in this house until you find your own. What's the rule?” She scolded. Sam sighed and Jake bit his lip feeling like he was the one in trouble.

“No sleeping over.” Sam said and Jake's eyes went wide. 

Sarah smiled and shook her head as Ice made a motion as if to say ‘no harm done’ as Sarah spoke again. “Just tell us next time so I can make him breakfast too.” 

Sam grinned slyly and Ice stood, kissing this daughter on the forehead. His gaze met Jake's, who straightened up and saluted. Ice saluted him back and waved his hand as if to say ‘at ease’. Ice headed out to the back porch and Sarah followed, but turned before closing the door.

“Oh, Sam, there's a few large yellow envelopes on your father's desk. Could you bring them to the naval base and give them to Beau?” she asked. Sam nodded and said, “Sure.”

Sam went to get the envelope and when she came back, Jake was checking his watch and phone. She placed the envelopes on the counter in front of him. “How long is your day today?”

“Should be done around one, why?” He asked and she smirked.

“I'll come with you for the day.” She said and she nearly ran to grab her laptop bag and change her clothes. Jake wasn't going to argue, partially because, even though he wanted to keep this a secret in some capacity, he did also want to flaunt the fact that he and Sam were seeing each other. Although, he was pretty sure the cat was well out of the bag after the other day. He glanced at his watch again. They'd have to grab something for breakfast on the way. She came out dressed in a black pencil skirt with a pretty plaid blouse and low black heels. Jake's eyes went wide.

“Why?” He motioned to what she was wearing with the biggest grin on his face.

“Oh I have to hop on a Zoom call for work at ten. I actually do have to be dressed despite what people think about remote work. They expect me to look the part.” She explained and he nodded.

“Well, you look the part.” He said and wrapped his arms around her waist as they headed to the door. “And you look like I wanna show you off.” 

🛩️🛩️🛩️

“Hey, did Hangman come home last night?” Phoenix asked Coyote as they got out of their cars together. Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy were all waiting outside their cars and trucks as well, as they liked to walk in as a group. 

“Uh...I never heard his truck, no.” Coyote said, just as Jake’s black Ford pulled up and parked.

“Holy...shit...” Fanboy said as they watched Hangman step down out of the truck and go around to the passenger side, helping none other than Samantha Kazansky, the Commander’s daughter, out like a princess coming out of her carriage. They all stared as Hangman reached behind her, his other hand on her waist, and grabbed her bag for her. He swung it over his shoulder, making clear that he would carry it for her. She tugged on it and he just pushed his nose toward her with a wide smirk. That classic Hangman grin, that had so many ladies swoon for him, seemed to be aimed in a different way, as if he wasn’t trying to impress her. It was more casual, less flirty. His expression seemed softer in a way that none of them had ever seen before.

“What the fuck.” Rooster said, shaking his head, and they watched Hangman pull Samantha in close and kiss her. They’d all seen him make out with girls before, but this wasn’t his typical manner. The way he held her, it was like he didn’t want to lose her. It was like he couldn’t afford to lose her. And they all noticed it.

“You know they’re all looking, right?” Sam mused as they headed toward the front doors of the main building. Jake just nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll catch shit for it later too, but I don’t give a fuck anymore. Want them to know you’re my girl.” He murmured. “Uh...I’ll come with you to the Vice Admiral’s office.” He said, as they headed through the front doors. He glanced to his left, remembering that there was a photo of her father and Maverick there in the lobby. They stopped there for a moment and Sam’s jaw worked as she looked at the photo.

“He was so young. He never got to take me up in the air like he wanted...” She said solemnly and Jake glanced down at her. 

“I’ll make it happen. I’ll take you up there someday. Promise.” He said and Sam gazed up at him, eyes slightly misty. He pressed a feather light kiss to her forehead, and they decided to head up to the Vice Admiral’s office. When they approached, Cyclone and Warlock were sitting, and Maverick was standing, briefing them on his lesson plan for the day. Sam knocked on the door and Cyclone perked up.

“Samantha...Hangman...come in.” He said, both of them entering, Jake’s hand on the small of her back as they approached the Vice Admiral’s desk. Jake then folded his arms behind his back, at attention for his superiors. “At ease, Lieutenant.” Cyclone said and Jake relaxed his posture and leaned a little closer to Sam. Maverick tilted his head and a corner of his lips turned up. Sam reached in her bag, taking the envelopes out and placing them on the desk in front of Cyclone.

“My father asked me to drop these off to you. I was also wondering if you didn’t mind me borrowing an office or a conference room for the day, sir?” She asked and Cyclone smiled warmly at her.

“Anything for Ice’s daughter.” He said softly and then his eyes locked on Jake. Everyone’s eyes locked on Jake, in fact.

“Sir. I’d like to inform you that Samantha and I are in a relationship. I hope this won’t affect my position or fitness for this mission.” Jake said and Cyclone nodded.

“If her father is fine with it, then your relationship with her will be viewed objectively and have no effect on your position.” He said and Jake nodded. Sam knew by doing this, he was trying to make sure that he wasn't given any special treatment. He wanted a fair chance at being selected for this mission. He needed no special favors just because he was seeing Iceman’s daughter. He wanted no special favor for it. He wanted work and pleasure completely separate.

“Thank you, sir.” Jake said and Cyclone dismissed them both. 

🛩️ 🛩️ 🛩️

Sam settled into a conference room, which was across the hall from the ready room where Jake and his co-pilots were going to be going over their plan for the day. She’d just opened her laptop and was typing, while waiting for the Zoom call to come in. She heard a knock and looked up to see Nat. She stood and they met in the middle of the room, in a hug.

“Hey...um...can we talk a minute?” Nat asked and Sam nodded. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I feel like I have been there for you...”

“No...you’re busy. This mission is super important.” Sam said, and Nat shook her head.

“But I could be making time for you like Jake is...” She said and Sam’s brow furrowed. Nat spoke again before Sam could. “I am happy for you...I’m just surprised you picked him.”

“He kinda picked me...he’s really nice, Nat. He just doesn’t show it because he thinks it’ll make him look weak.” Sam said.

“As a woman in the Navy...I get that. But he doesn’t have to be such a dick...” Nat said, agreeing with Jake’s facade, because she had one of her own to uphold. 

“Hey...I have an idea...Come to dinner. Please?” Sam begged and Nat scrunched her nose at the thought.

“With Bagman? Hard Pass. It’s enough that I deal with him here, I really don’t need to spend time with him outside of work.” She said and Sam grabbed her hands.

“C’mon Nat, please? For me? I swear he'll be on his best behavior. Bring Bob too if you want.” Sam said and Nat figured it wouldn't hurt to give him another chance. One more chance. Nat left Sam with that as they heard her computer trying to connect the Zoom call she'd been waiting for. Sam sat back down and she saw the pilots, including her boyfriend, file into the ready room. Maverick poked his head into the room that Sam was in to say a quick hello and then headed in to instruct for the day. 

Sam glanced over every once in a while and she saw that air of arrogance in Jake that he was so well known for. It oozed from him even as he just sat there. He knew he was the best of the best and he wasn't going to let anyone think he wasn't. 

Maverick finished his speech for the morning and then dismissed the pilots to go get their flight gear on. Sam was taking notes, not only on her call, but also about Jake as he walked out of the room. Sure, he had Javy, but no one else seemed to want to be involved in even light conversation with him. Sam felt bad because she sort of knew who he was behind the scenes, but she knew most of his copilots would never see that side of him and then she understood what his call sign meant to them. They didn't trust him and they knew he was in this for himself. He thought he was the hero and they didn't. And that was another part of why Sam gave him a chance.

🛩🛩🛩

When their day was done, Jake came into the conference room and sat down while he waited for Sam to finish up another call. He had changed back into his khakis and a black tank that showed off his biceps. Sam couldn't help but let her eyes wander, seeing him reclined in a chair, scrolling on his phone. She wondered what had his attention so fully, drawing a smirk from him. He glanced over at one point and their eyes met, both smiling wide. 

Sam rattled off some numbers and statistics that her boss asked for and Jake was impressed, his gaze settling on her as he placed his phone down. He’d never been with a girl that was as smart as Sam. As her call ended, he picked his phone up again and stood from his chair. She sat down at hers, as she’d been standing while reading figures to her boss. Jake had assumed she just needed to stretch. He prowled over to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. She glanced up at him, then finished typing on her laptop, and closed it.

‘What had your attention so intently?” She asked and he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her and put his phone in front of her. He was on Instagram. On her profile. He was looking at pictures of her from two summers ago, when she visited Virginia Beach. When she had her fling with Rooster. But she didn’t know if Jake knew that, because he’d probably kill Rooster if he did.

“You’re fuckin’ hot, y’know that? Can’t believe how gorgeous you are.” He murmured next to her ear and pressed his nose to her temple. She reached up and ran her fingers through his short hair, her nails scratching his scalp and making him push into her more. He loved when she put her fingers in his hair. 

“So...I invited Nat and Bob to dinner later? You pick where.” Sam said and she felt Jake tense.

“Okay...then you come over to my place after...you’ve never been.” He said, something uneasy about his tone, so she agreed without question. That was only fair. 

🛩🛩🛩

Jake found a place, a little hole in the wall Mexican taqueria on the waterfront. He and Sam arrived first and acquired seating. Jake ordered a round of beers for himself, Nat, and Bob, and a cider beer for Sam. Jake had decided a plain black shirt with the sleeves rolled and jeans were good for tonight, and Sam used it as an excuse to put on a pretty pink dress, a thin cottony fabric that sat off one of her shoulders. Jake was going to make sure he paid special attention there tonight as her neck was exposed and was prime real estate for kissing.

“You sure they'll show? I’m pretty sure they all hate me at this point.” Jake said, leaning back against the booth they were sat in and placing his arm across the top of it, a partially possessive gesture as his hand laid lazily off the back of the booth, fingers brushing her shoulder. 

“Nat wouldn't skip on me. She's been my best friend for so long. She knows I wouldn't forgive her.” Sam said, and Jake could her the confidence in her voice.

“If you say so...oh...shit...they did show.”  He took a swig of his beer and looked up, just as Nat and Bob came through the front door. They walked over to the table that they'd gotten, in the corner of the room. They said hi and sat. Jake thought it odd to see them out of uniform or flight suits. Bob looked relaxed in jeans and t-shirt and Nat had decided on a pretty black dress with quarter sleeves. 

“Did you order yet?” Nat asked and Sam smiled.

“Got you both a beer and some chips and salsa. I've heard it's great here.” They both smiled and there was a bit of an awkward silence in the air as Jake pushed their  beers toward them. They each took a sip just as the chips and salsa arrived. The waitress gave them a few more minutes with the menu and they decided to get a couple flights of different types of tacos to try. There was another moment of awkward silence as the three pilots seemed to be trying to figure out what to talk about. Sam on the other hand, had snuck a selfie and sent it to her friend, Shelby, who responded immediately.

Shelby: holy fuck hes gorgeous

“So...you two are seeing each other?” Bob asked, which made Sam look up from her phone. Her and Nat reached for chips and salsa at the same time and bumped their hands together on purpose with a laugh. 

“Been seeing each other, yes.” Jake said, letting his arm slip off the back of the booth and across Sam’s shoulders fully.

“Been seeing? Wait for how long?” Bob asked.

“Since the beginning of the detachment. When I asked her out and she said yes to dinner. I saw her the next day. And the next, and every single day after.” Jake explained.

“Hangman actually goes on second dates?” Bob said with a lilt of humor in his voice.

“Hangman goes on many dates apparently.” Nat said, wiggling her brows at Sam. She knew that they’d be spending time together, but Nat didn’t know quite how much time. So when Nat told him to be there the other day, he had already been and continued to be. Meaning he had also seen how bad Ice was. Nat could then only assume that Jake was beginning to understand the effect it was having on Sam.

“Yeah.” Sam said, running her hand up and down his bicep. He glanced at her, and actually smiled at Nat and Bob. And it looked genuine. By the time their food arrived, the tension between everyone had loosened significantly and by the end of the dinner, Nat and Bob could almost say they enjoyed hanging out with Jake Seresin outside of work.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Edward, approaching Bella of his own volition: if you were smart, you'd stay away from me

Literally! Bella's just trying to live her life, adjust to a new school after moving to be with her dad, and this fucking guy! Is just all over the place!

Bella has far more patience than I could muster. And then putting up with him for the rest of her life ?? Well. If I got vampirism out of it, maybe. But I feel like there's easier, less infuriating ways. Hitting up Alice or something--maybe Emmett.

[itsallyscorner]

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”

[imaginaryf1shots]

Family at McLaren | Oscar Piastri

WC: 4.7K oops

Oscar Piastri x single mum!reader

Summery: Raising a son while working for McLaren F1 team was never easy but life wasn’t easy on you anyway.

Warning: Teen pregnancy, absent father, absent family

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

Life hasn't been the kindest to you, it seemed like you've been struggling for so long before things started to turn to the better. Getting pregnant young wasn't on the agenda, nor was your boyfriend breaking up with you and moving as far away form you as he could, and your parents cutting you off to 'save face' certainly wasn't planned. But in the end you have your son, all the doubts and thoughts about keeping him or giving him away were set in motion, there was no way you'll give him away, he's a part of you and he's yours. You worked hard, keeping your scholarship helped you through your university and then you also had work on the side to support yourself and your son. During university with the help of your life long friends you were able to get through it and your understanding professors were also a big help. All in all with a son under 5 years old you graduated university top of your class and many opportunities for you to work and choose from. So when you got the chance to work for Mclaren F1 team you took the chance without thinking about it.

Studying was one thing, but balancing work and personal life was hard, harder than you thought. But the McLaren team is like a family everyone's very understanding. McLaren continues to be your beacon of hope, a promise for a brighter future.

"Thank you so much for letting me bring him in." You thanked your manager, feeling grateful for her allowing you to bring Tom with you. The daycare was flooded due to some water leakage or a burst pipe of something like that, meaning until they get everything fixed you had no one to watch your son while you're working. So in a panic mode you called your manager and told her what happened, she was very understanding and agreed to let you bring him with you. You worked in an office and weren't with the mechanics so that made it easier for him to stay with you and not hinder your work.

"No worries, I understand how things get some times." She patted your back and smiled at Tom who was shyly hiding behind your leg, he was super shy. Your team knew you had a son and have all admired you for being a young single mother but so far ahead in your carrier already. But it wasn't something that you spread around so when you walked in and saw the looks on everyone's faces you knew that they were

shocked.

Tommy is a carbon copy of you, there's no doubt in anyone's mind when they first see him that he's yours.

"Oh my god, who is that cutie?" Asked one of the women on the media team, she crouched down in front of you to be eye level with Tommy, he held your hand and looked up at you, you gave him a smile and a nod of encouragement.

"Hello." He said and waved before he got shy and hid into your side, you and Sarah giggled, a couple other moved closer to the three of you to watch the interaction, it's not everyday that a child comes into the MTC.

"What's your name, little guy?" Sarah asked trying to prop him into talking and get him out of his Shyness

"I'm not little." He mumbled and peaked out at her, Sarah raised her arms in surrender.

"Sorry, what's your name big guy?"

"My name's Tom, but mummy calls me Tommy." Tom said and you giggled. A few of your colleague interacted with him on your way to your office. Once you were there you gave him a few of his toys to play with, including a toy car that he liked to act as if he raced with, especially since you started working for McLaren, and being surrounded by Formula 1 way more than before. As you settled in work, it was clear that Tom has created a buzz in the office.

It was later when Oscar strolled into the office. It wasn't weird for him to be there, since you're similar in age you had struck up a friendship, and he'd pop in every time he was in the factory, you'd always talk for a while but had no idea about Tom. So when he walked in and saw Tom surprise flickered on his face, it didn't take him long to put two and two together, especially with the murmurs of other people he passed since he arrived.

"Hey there." Oscar said a friendly grin spreading on his face as he squatted down beside Tom who was playing with his Toy car. "Are you a future driver?"

Tom looked up, his shyness having faded a bit since the morning.

"Maybe." He said with a giggle, holding up his toy car for Oscar to see, Oscar then glanced at you as you watched the scene unfold.

"He's got good taste." He ruffled Tom's hair and stood up. "Are you brining him to the track next?"

"Not if I can help it." You replied with a laugh, grateful for Oscar's easy going nature. "Too much people, too many ways to get lost."

"True." Oscar pulled the usual chair to sit next to you, his eyes not leaving Tom's. If Oscar held any respect for you before it just doubled. Oscar sat with you for a while before he had to go away.

By lunchtime Tommy was like a mini celebrity, there was even a few engineers that took turns showing him around. You were over the moon, just seeing him so happy and over his shyness. Lunch time is always hectic, and all it took a few seconds, you looked away from Tom for a few seconds and he was gone. You couldn't see him anywhere. Panic consumed you, and your heart pounded in your chest as

realization hit you, Tommy is lost. You turn around and head back to your office, maybe he went back there for one of his toys.

Dread washed over you when you didn't find him there, the MTC is a big building and he could be anywhere, you asked everyone you passed if they've seen him but no one has. You called his name, and a few others joined you in your search.

Where did he go? Was he hurt? Is he scared? Just the thought of him being alone in this big unfamiliar building scared you immensely. With each passing moment a sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelmed you.

As you ran around, calling for your son, your voice is tinged with desperation, you could feel the stared of your colleagues, their concerned expressions adding to your anxiety. And as they told you words of comfort it just fell onto deaf ears. You were lost in the whirlwind of your panic.

It seemed to you as if you've searched each corner, every hallway, your mind conjuring the worst scenarios. Each empty room you passed seemed to taunt you with its silence. The MTC always felt like it's a place filled with excitement and innovation, now just felt like it's a maze. You stopped by Sarah's disk, your breath coming in short and frantic gasps.

"Have you seen Tommy?" you ask her, your voice trembling.

"No." She shook her head, concern etched across her face. "But we'll find him, he can't have gone far."

Tears prickled your eyes as you continued your search, your voice growing hoarse from calling his name. your ran through corridors, peering into ever nook and cranny, your mind replaying the last moments you saw him, had he wandered into a restricted area? Was he frightened or hurt?

Just as the panic was threatening to consume you, you turned a corner and you saw a familiar figure approaching, relief and disbelief washed over you as you saw Oscar, with Tommy over his shoulders, a broad smile on his face.

”Looking for this big boy?” OScar asked, his eyes twinkling with a smile on his face.

A sob left you in relief, as you rushed over pulling Tommy into your arms.

”Oh my god!” You exclaimed, your voice trembling. “I was so worried.”

Tommy wrapped his arms around your neck, he sensed your distress. “I’m sorry mummy.”

Oscar smiled gently, patting Tommy’s head.

”I saw him wandering around, so I took him to check the simulator room.” He explained. “I think he’s got a knack for finding the coolest sports in the building.”

”Thank you Oscar.” You managed a shaky laugh, the tension slowly ebbing away. “I don’t know hat I would’ve done if-“

”It’s okay.” Oscar interrupted softly. “He’s safe now, let’s just keep a closer eye on him next time.”

You nodded, and as you hugged Tommy a tear left your eye, Oscar’s eyes just softened even more, he whipped it away and gave you a one armed hug with Tommy between the two of you.

“Oh Tommy, I was so scared.” You mumbled to your son after you pulled away from Oscar.

”I’m sorry mummy.” Tommy looked sad, he didn’t mean to scare you.

”It’s alright baby, just don't do it again, you have to always tell me where you are.” You tell him, and he nods, hugging you.

Oscar walks back with you, once you make it to your office, and you send a message to everyone that you found him, the rest of the day goes smoothly, everyone pays more attention to Tommy making sure that he’s alright and within eyesight.

This just renewed and cemented the love and care in the McLaren family.

From the moment OScar saw you at McLaren, he was captivated. You were different from everyone else he’s met, that is remotely close to his age, something he now concludes is because you’re a single mother, juggling a demanding job and raising a young son on your own.

Oscar admired your resilience, you run wavering commitment to both your work and Tommy. And despite the whirlwind that is Formula 1, he’s found his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you managed to keep everything together with such grace. He often wondered how hard it must’ve been for you, he heard that you’re mostly alone taking care of your son, he pained him to think that you went through so much hardships alone. Your friends were there for you, but they couldn’t have been there all the time.

Oscar also knew you had drawn clear boundaries between the two of you, he’s seen the way you focus on your work and Tom, always putting your son first. He respected that about you, even if it meant keeping his feelings in check. When you brought Tom to the MTC, Oscar knew why you had drawn these lines.

OScar saw the way Tom’s eyes light up when he saw the cars, and when he sat on the sim even if he was too short to do anything yet, his face was beaming with excitement. Oscar enjoyed the moments he spent with Tom, you had brought him with you for a week while the daycare was being fixed up.

Seeing the vulnerability in your eyes when Tom got lost, he saw the fear of a mother who lost her child, and he wanted to be there for you, to support you in any way he could.

And through the week Tommy was at MTC, Oscar had taken it upon himself to spend as much time with Tommy as he could, he’d take him to the simulator room, and show him the cars at the technology centre. He saw first hand how much you meant to your son.

Without even noticing Oscar’s feelings grew stronger with each passing day, but he knew he had to approach his feelings dreadfully. His biggest fear is making you uncomfortable in any way shape or form, or overstepping. So he just focused on building a bond with Tommy, knowing that his actions will speak louder than words. And he couldn’t help but hope that in time you might see hi as more than just a colleague or a young F1 driver. Oscar understand that you’ve been hurt before and that you’re protective of your heart and the heart of your son. But he’s known for being patient, willing to wait and prove himself, to show you that could be a part of your life and Tommy’s in a meaningful way.

One afternoon, as you were wrapping up a meeting, Oscar popped his head into your office.

”Hey, got a minute?” He asked with that familiar, easygoing smile.

“Sure, Oscar.” You looked up from your desk. “What’s up?”

”I was wondering if you and Tommy would like to come to the race this weekend?” Oscar stepped inside, his hands causally tucked into his pockets. “It’s in the country, and it’s a big one, I thought it might be fun for him to see it all in action.”

Your initial reaction was to say no. The thought of bringing Tommy to a race, with the noise, crowds and the chaos, it just seemed overwhelming. but the way Oscar looked at you with genuine enthusiasm and a touch of hope, made you hesitate.

“I don’t know, Oscar.” You said, your concern evident in your voice. “Races can be pretty hectic I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for Tommy/“

Oscar pulled his usual chair to sit next to you.

”I get that, but I’ll make sure you both have a great experience, I’ve arranged for some VIP passes, and you won’t be working, so you’ll have access to the paddock and private viewing area, it’ll be safe and Tommy will get to see the cars in action, I promise it’ll be fun.”

“I’m not sure-“

”If you feel at any point that it’s overwhelming;ming you can escape to my room and stay there until the end.” Your resolve was wavering as you thought about how excited Tommy will be.

”Well, okay, alright.” You agreed but your voice was still tinged with uncertainty.

“Great!” Oscar’s smile widened. “I’ll make sure everything is set up for you, trust me, you’re going to love it.”

The day of the race arrived, and you found yourself with Tommy at the circuit. your nerves are a mix of excitement and apprehension. The roar of the engines, the buzz of the crowd, it was a world you had seen inside at McLaren but never experienced firsthand like this. Tommy is practically bouncing with excitement, the pass around his neck is like a golden ticket.

You were only there for the race day, and when you met Oscar by the Mclaren motorhome there was still a couple of hours until the start of the race.

”Hey, future race car driver.” Oscar said ruffling Tom’s hair. “Ready to see some action?”

Tommy nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with wonder. “Yes! Can I sit in your car?”

”We’ll see what we can do.” Oscar laughed, a warm and infectious sound. “Come on, let’s get you both set up.”

Oscar led you through the motorhome, you greeted your colleagues that you worked with and smiled. Tom was holding Oscar’s hand as he showed him around. Your son was mesmerised.

”Can I see that one up close?” Tom pulled on Oscar’s sleeve to gain his attention. Oscar glanced at you for approval, and you nodded, smiling at Tom’s enthusiasm.

”Of course, let’s get you a closer look.” You stood at the back of the garage, as Oscar took Tom to his car. One of the media members asked if they could film Tom and you agreed, he was dressed in a mini McLaren kit that he got as a gift from one of your friends for his birthday.

Oscar pulls Tom up and puts him in the cockpit, Tommy giggled, his laughter gaining the attention of the mechanics. One got the wheel and gave it to Oscar to put it in place. Tommy instantly leaned forwards to be able to hold it, but he couldn’t see over the cockpit anyways. The wheel was too heavy for him to move, but he was having the time of his life. Oscar glanced at you and he couldn’t help but feel proud seeing how happy you looked.

It warmed your heart seeing how happy Tom looked, and seeing how Oscar is with him made you feel some type of way. Tommy looked up so much to Oscar, since he met him at the MTC Oscar has been his idol, he’s always asking for him, and video calls have began to be a thing now.

”Mummy, look at me!” Tommy called for you, you walked a little closer and smiled at your son.

”You look like a racer, baby.” You tell him and he grins. “Oscar better watch out.”

”Oh I will, who knows, maybe he’ll come for my seat.”

After Tom had his fun in the car you get to the hospitality on top of the McLaren garage, your seat has a view over the pit lane. One of your coworkers comes and keeps you company for a while before she has to rush back to work.

During a break in the action, Oscar joined you with a wide smile on his face. He saw the hat you now supported with his number on it, custody of someone from his team.

“Having fun?” He asked, leaning in close so you could hear him over the noise.

Tom nodded vigorously, turning to you with a beaming smile. “This is the best day ever mummy!”

You chuckle, your heart swelling with happiness at seeing Tommy so thrilled.

”Thank you, Oscar.” You said meeting his eyes. “This means a lot to him.”

”I’m glad you’re both here.” Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes holding warmth that made your heart flutter, he said softly.. “I’d love for you to come to more races, if you’re interested.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you and at Tommy, made you realise how much he genuinely cared. It wasn’t;t just about impressing you or having fun; it was about building a connection, creating moments that mattered.

”We’ll have to see about that.” You replied, a small smile on your lips. The idea of letting Oscar into your lives was still daunting, but seeing how happy he made Tom, how happy he made you feel, was starting to shift your perspective.

After the race, you were told that Oscar asked for you to wait for him. Since Tommy was crashing from the activities of the day, you went to Oscar’s drivers room, which he showed to you for an instant like this earlier in the day. Once you settled on the sofa/bed, Tommy was out in an instant. You were on your phone when Oscar came in, he was a little surprised but pleased to see you in his room.

He had showered and was dressed to go home, he leaned on the wall across from you, his eyes not leaving yours.

”Go on a date with me, just dinner, the two of us.” Oscar’s voice was low, but you heard him loud and clear. Your heart skipped a beat at his request.

”OScar, I really appreciate the offer, but my focus is Tom, I’m not sure dating is a good idea right now.” You replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Despite how Tom couldn’t stop talking about everything that happened today, relaying everything that happened in an enthusiastic way that only children could do it in. You found yourself smiling at his words, feeling a warmth you hadn’t expected. You can no longer ignore the impact Oscar is having on Tom. Their bond had grown stronger, and it was ever clear to everyone that Tom adored him, but it wasn’t just Tom. You couldn’t deny the way Oscar made you feel, the way he looked at you with genuine care and interest, the way he treated Tom with kindness and respect.

You had always been wary of letting someone into your life, afraid of the disruption it might cause for Tom and the vulnerability it required. But seeing Oscar with Tommy, witnessing his patience, his kindness, and the genuine joy he brought to your son, made you reconsider your stance.

You had spent so long building walls around your heart, protecting Tom and yourself from potential hurt. But those walls had also kept out the possibility of new happiness. And Oscar, with his easy smile and genuine care, was chipping away at those barriers in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I understand, really.” Oscar said after a pause of silence. “But I feel like we have something special, and I’d love to see where it could go, I care about you and Tom and I’m will to go at whatever pace you;re comfortable with.”

His words resonated with you, touching a part of you that longed for connection and support. You knew how important it was to be cautious, but you also couldn’t ignore the possibility of finding happiness with someone who genuinely cared for both you and Tom. And seeing Oscar right now he looked vulnerable and genuine.

You took a deep breath, your mind made up. "Okay, Oscar. Let’s give it a try, I’d like to go out with you," you said, your voice firm yet hopeful. "But I want to take things slow. I need to be sure it’s right for Tommy and me."

You could see the relief on his face, it made you smile. “Of course, we’ll take it as slow as you need, I’m just happy you’re giving us a chance.”

The night of your first date arrived, and you felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. You had chosen a cosy, intimate restaurant, nothing too flashy, just a place where you could talk and enjoy each other’s company. As you got ready, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation, wondering what the evening would lead to.

Oscar arrived right on time, looking effortlessly handsome and a bit nervous himself. He greeted you with a smile that melted away your apprehensions. "You look beautiful." He said softly, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

"Thank you." You replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look great too."

The dinner was perfect, filled with laughter, conversation, and a deepening connection. Oscar was everything you had hoped for, kind, attentive, and genuinely interested in you and your life. He listened to your stories, shared his own experiences, and made you feel seen and appreciated in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

By the end of the night, as he walked you to your door, you realised just how much you had enjoyed his company. It wasn’t just about having a romantic interest; it was about finding someone who respects your boundaries, who cares about your happiness, and who is willing to be a part of your and Tom’s life.

Before saying goodnight, Oscar took your hand gently, his eyes searching yours.

"I had a really great time tonight." he said, his voice sincere. "I hope we can do this again."

You smiled, a sense of contentment settling over you. "I did too, Oscar. I think I’d like that."

As you closed the door behind him, you felt a sense of hope and possibility bloom within you. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to imagine a future where you weren’t alone, where Tom had a positive male role model, and where you had someone to share the ups and downs of life with.

Months passed since you decided to give Oscar a chance and go on a date. Life began to change for the better, in unexpected ways. Oscar became a constant and important part in your and Tom’s world. He seamlessly integrated himself in your routines and lives. He showed up for dinners, outings, even a couple School events, and the quiet everyday moments that truly mattered. He wasn’t a visitor in your lives, he’s becoming a part of the family.

Oscar’s patience and kindness never wavered. He was there for Tom’s ups and downs, helping with homework, playing games, and simply being present. You saw the way Tom’s face lit up when Oscar was around, how he looked forward to their time together, and how he had started to look up to Oscar as a father figure. You were scared at the beginning that with the tantrums and fights you have every now and then with Tom, Oscar would bolt but he stood there and supported you with them.

One day, you found yourself at a part, watching Oscar and Tom play a game of football. Tom’s laughter filled the air and his joy infectious as he ran after the ball, his short legs moving with determination. Oscar let Tom score, cheering him on with genuine enthusiasm.

As you watched them together, a deep sense of contentment washed over you. It was in these simple moments that you realised how much your life had changed for the better. Oscar had not only brought joy to Tom’s life but had also reignited a spark of happiness and hope in your own heart, a hope that you thought you wouldn't have anymore.

Reflecting on your journey, you thought about the fear and apprehension you had felt when Oscar first showed interest in you. You had been so protective of Tom and cautious about letting someone new into your lives. But Oscar had proved himself time and again, showing you that it was possible to find love and support without compromising your responsibilities as a mother.

Oscar was different. He understood your fears and respected your boundaries. He was patient and gentle, gradually earning your trust and showing you that it was okay to open your heart again. He wasn’t just there for the good times; he was committed to being there through the challenges, too.

As Tom came running over, his face flushed with excitement, he jumped into your arms, babbling about the game. Oscar followed, a warm smile on his face.

“You have a future football star here.” He said, ruffling Tom’s hair affectionately.

You laughed, hugging Tom close.

”He’s got a great coach.” You replied, meeting Oscar’s eyes with gratitude.

Oscar’s gaze softened, and he reached out to take your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m just glad to be here.” He said quietly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

In that moment, you felt a surge of emotion, a realisation of how much Oscar had come to mean to you and Tom. He had become a constant presence, a source of support and love that you hadn’t dared to hope for. The walls you had built around your heart had crumbled, replaced by a newfound sense of security and happiness.

As you walked home together, Tom chattering excitedly between you, you knew that you had made the right decision. Oscar wasn’t just a boyfriend or a new figure in your life; he was a partner, a confidant, and a loving presence for Tom. He was the family you had hoped for but never thought you could have.

And from that day on, Oscar continued to be a steadfast presence in your life. He was there for the celebrations and the struggles, always with a smile and a helping hand. He became a father figure to Tom, guiding him with patience and love, and a partner to you, sharing in the joys and challenges of everyday life.

Looking back on the journey, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. You had opened your heart to love and, in doing so, found a partner who was committed to building a future with you and Tom. Oscar had not only filled a void in your life but had also enriched it in ways you had never imagined possible.

The second best decision you took, after deciding to keep Tom, is giving Oscar a chance.

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[thesilmarillionblog]

COME CLOSER

Summary: Reader asks her friend, Soldier Boy to take her virginity.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: +18! (MINORS DNI), virgin reader!, smut, language, rough Soldier Boy, beard kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, friends with benefits

Word Count: 4052

A/N: English is not my first language.

You grabbed the gun from Ben's suit and placed it in your bag without even waiting for a response since you knew he wouldn't refuse you. “May I take this?” you said. “Just for safety issues.”

Ben joined the team to kill Homelander months ago, and because you two have been on missions together for so long, you two have kind of gotten to know one another. He frequently teased you, and most of the time he really got on your nerves. Another thing Butcher's wanted from you regarding Ben was to make sure you kept an eye on him while he was high or furious. 

He sighed, “You are already in safe hands,” and then gave you a little push toward the car, where Butcher and the other members of the team were waiting. “You know that you are something different. Trying to protect yourself with a firearm in spite of the fact that you already have three supes with you, me included, who are the strongest and greatest.” 

“After the job is completed, even the biggest dicks become smaller. I wonder if your gigantic ego will ever be smaller one day, Ben.”

“Not mine,” he winked at you in between his laughter before the two of you entered the car. “How on earth does a naive virgin speak like that? I must discipline your dirty mouth at some point.” 

He pushed until you reached the other side of the seat, and you muttered, “Shut up.” Your face flushed. “You leave no space for me.”

“Do I look like your personal driver?” Butcher growled at Hughie to come in too, questioned in a disapproving tone. Then Butcher turned back to Hughie, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and said, “Where the fuck is your girlfriend?”

“She arrived earlier with the others. They were driven there by Frenchie already.”

“Will you shut up and drive?” Ben messed with your hair for a while while ignoring what you said that he was going to ruin it, saying to Butcher in an irritated manner. 

“Good boy gone bad, huh?” Ben ignored you and filled the entire seat between your complaints. Butcher murmured, “Let's fucking have some fun there since we may not be finding any free time soon, Navy girlies.” 

Luckily, Butcher managed to locate a club devoid of supes, but it was still massive and insane, complete with loud music. Hughie's gaze found Annie right away, and Butcher followed after him while he winked at the girl who was staring at him with a chuckle. 

You gave Ben a drink and complained, “Do I have to babysit you?” Even though all of the girls were capturing his attention, he was undoubtedly hearing what you were saying. 

He patted your head and said, "Babysit me?" with a look of astonishment. "Sweetheart, it's me who has been watching you for several months. After all, it's easy for you to get into trouble." 

"Me?" As he messed with your hair, you giggled and attempted to push his hands away. "You're always on the verge of being furious for no reason at all, and I have to keep your ego boosted when you are about to lose it." 

"Or maybe I act it this way to get you even more anxious; what do you think? Your human face looks so funny when you're trying to calm me," he smirked and remarked with arrogance. 

Punching him in the chest, you said, "You're impossible," although your wrist ached. You sighed in agony, "Fuck, Ben," and made sure everything was okay by looking at your hand. Thankfully, there were no physical wounds. 

"Why the fuck have you tried to punch me now? Haven't you still learned I'm built to last?" he complained, gently massaging your hands. 

You muttered, "You're so annoying," while he sighed and released your hands. "I can't imagine why almost nobody likes you." 

"All you do this evening is talk rudely with that lovely mouth of yours and spit poison. Also, you are to blame. How many times do I have to tell you not to try to punch me? Wish to adopt a tough-ass persona? You're just a little sensitive, soft doll," he continued to tease, causing you to flush with rage. 

"Remember the day I gave myself a Temp-V injection? When I really punched you, you seemed rather surprised, and I'm sure it hurt." 

“I didn't think being a temporary Supe could happen, and that was a while ago.” Ben continued to smirk and replied, “Keep that in mind. I was merely trying to comprehend the change in your scent when you unexpectedly struck me and pushed me against the wall. You know, I should have been doing that. Of course, I'm not referring to the punching; rather, I'm speaking to the second one, but more gently.”

Ben flirted with you, giving you a tiny pinch on the chin and a wink. He was perhaps the most flirtatious man ever, but the reason he acted this way was that you told him you were a virgin, and even when he understood you were becoming too shy and a little anxious, he continued to tease you verbally. You didn't feel uncomfortable about it, though. 

“Whatever.” You rushed to end it, fearing he would start talking even more profanely. You tried to silence him by putting your palm over his mouth. “When are you going to shave this beard? It's really lengthy.”

He murmured, “I thought you liked it longer and thicker,” as he combed his facial hair. 

This time, instead of being annoyed, you giggled. “You're impossible.” 

You said, “I'm going to check on Annie and others,” feeling a little guilty for something you didn't even understand when you saw him searching for women who fit his tastes. “So that you can have your fun.”

Ben, who had just bought a drink for himself, approached a redhead who had been staring at him passionately ever since he entered the bar. You led the way to join Annie and the rest of the team, but you were carrying a heavy weight that you couldn't quite explain. You did your best to ignore the stupid ache in your heart and laugh out loud at Butcher's half-made-up stories. It was a rare, heartfelt moment of calm after months, shared by all of you as you briefly watched the redhead woman take Ben's head and lead him to the second floor.

Ben's social batteries ran out after a few hours, and when he got into a fight with Butcher, you volunteered to take him home in your car because you were starting to have headaches too. Annie and Kimiko were dancing in the center; it appeared like they were just getting started. Either their heightened enthusiasm was to blame, or you simply didn't feel like having fun at that particular time. Ben was the source of your annoyance because he preferred to spend his time in the club having fun with other women and left you kind of alone.

You just said, “I will drive Ben back; just stop arguing for once,” and snatched Butcher's keys. “I assume everyone will be arriving home late. It appears that Kimiko and Annie won't be calling it a night anytime soon.” After observing them for some time, they realized you were right. Kimiko was high as fuck.

Ben didn't have a shower in his own room, so he quickly took one in yours once you drove home. Surprisingly, he hasn't complained to Butcher about it in any manner, and you've allowed him to use yours anytime he needs to, even if he occasionally takes a shower a bit too frequently, leading you to believe that he does it on purpose to irritate and enrage you so that you two can argue. But no matter what, his unique word choice never failed to make you chuckle.

As he was taking care of himself in the bathroom, you considered something you had long since ignored: your virginity. You could never go one step beyond, not even if you were in your mid-20s. You just didn't want it to be just one fleeting, pointless act, and you didn't feel anything at all. Perhaps you were a shamefully traditional person who was eagerly awaiting the realization of your real fate.

Ben used to make jokes about your virginity, which you didn't mind, but tonight it kind of got under your skin and made you feel uneasy, like there was something wrong with you. It just didn't seem right at all to be a virgin in your mid-twenties. 

“You appear to be lost in thoughts. What's consuming your mind so much?” Ben queried. 

His long beard and damp hair were pouring over the floor as he emerged from the bathroom, his thick, muscular belly wrapped in a towel. Your eyebrows are raised between your sighs. Though you always knew he was extremely attractive, he seemed even more so at this moment. 

Ben glanced at your short dress too, seeing that you were staring at him as your lips parted slightly in a hint of yearning. He smirked, conceited, seeing your legs pushed together. 

“I think I can make a guess.” He walked over to sit on the bed next to you and mumbled. 

You hesitantly said, “I was thinking something,” not quite sure what to say exactly. 

“About?”

You abruptly asked, trying not to flush too much as you moved the bed and fully turned your body to face him. “Would you take my virginity?” 

Ben exclaimed, “What?” with his lips parted in wonder as he tried to understand what you meant and raised an eyebrow. 

“You already heard me.” 

Ben laughed and ignored your request, saying, “Are you drunk or do you need to jerk off? You're going to be a good nun when you grow up.”

“I'm serious here,” you said, blushing red from embarrassment and rage at the fact that the fact that he didn't take you seriously at all.

Ben's mocking expression changed to one of confusion as he realized you were serious. “I thought you were waiting for the love of your life or something. Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?”

“I wasn't waiting for someone,” you denied right away. “I decided being like this bothers me, and I want to change it.”

You continued, “We have known each other for months, and I think we kind of formed a good friendship during this time,” before he said anything, you added, “It must be okay to ask your friend for help, and it's better than to be with a total stranger, right?”

“I'm not the right person to share something like that.” Ben said in a serious tone, “I don't know why you made this decision so quickly, but you'll regret it tomorrow, I promise. If you are horny, I can give fingerfuck you, though.” It was clear that he was not hearing you clearly. 

“It's not really that significant, is it? I didn't wait for someone right away, as I had said. If I knew I would regret saying it, I wouldn't have said it in the first place. What's the purpose of friends?”

Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his damp arms to gauge his reaction while also conveying your concern. You felt your small confidence begin to fade as you noticed he was staring at you with the same expression, so you brought your hands back to yourself. “Well, of course I won't try to convince you to take my virginity if you don't want to get into such an intimate interaction with me,” you said, trying not to seem offended or disappointed. “It's a different issue.”

Your heart raced under your thin dress as you anxiously awaited his response. 

“I would fuck you with pleasure; it's not that I don't want it,” he added, examining your bare legs and breasts as they rose and fell in time with your heavy breaths. He whispered, placing his rough palms on your chin. “But I can't promise it won't hurt, and I don't want it to be just a one-time thing.”

You muttered, “I know it's going to hurt,” and at last he relaxed and seemed to agree. 

He smirked and continued, “I'll fuck your cunt whenever I want,” staring right into your eyes and making you tremble at the sensation. “You'll spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you.”

“It's better,” you said as his hand lowered to your throat, causing you to become even more thrilled. You chuckled awkwardly and murmured, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Your lips parted in ecstasy as his thumb massaged your hardened nipple, and he gently pinched it between his fingers through your dress. He didn't even slightly break eye contact with you, as if he wanted to watch every move you made. 

Ben mumbled, “I wonder if you're dripping under there already,” as he climbed on top of you. Feeling uncertain about what action to take, you placed your quivering hands on his large chest. 

His palm stroked your pussy through your underpants, and you clenched around nothing, murmuring, “I feel like it.” You were already embarrassingly drenched; you knew that. 

“Ben,” you murmured quickly, and his hand instantly froze there. He stared at you, confused, not knowing if you wanted to stop or not. You grabbed his wrist and stopped him just as he was about to return his hand to himself. “Can you do the entire job for tonight” you said in a hesitant manner. “I have absolutely no idea what to do.”

Ben surprised you with a kiss on the forehead and said, “Of course I'll do the entire job. You just lay down and relax. I'm going to take care of you well, okay?”

You nodded quickly, trusting that Ben knew what to do when he started to rub your pussy through your underwear again. Your hips rose higher to meet his movements as he played with your clit with a gentle thumb. “Let's get rid of your dress, huh?” he said, helping you to remove it from your body. You were lying under him naked, except for your underwear.

You wanted to hide your body with your hands because you felt a little shy, but you forced yourself to look at him with courage because you wanted this to be good. Even if he was already erect under the towel, he ignored his own needs to give you the pleasure you needed first.

Then he pinched your nipples once more and added, “You have such lovely tits.” Before you could respond, he put his warm lips on one of your tits and started sucking, giving you very light bites. You were a little scared that he could harm you because you had a big power imbalance since he was a supe, but you chose to put your trust in him because you knew he had experience having intercourse with normal people just like you.

As he continued licking both of your nipples, you placed your hands behind his hair and pulled. You pushed his head to your tit as you raised your hip to match his movement, but you moaned loudly when he ripped off your panties and inserted one of his meaty fingers inside of you slowly, even though you were trying really hard not to scream. It was difficult to take even one finger, so tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn't want to ruin the moment.

Groaning, “Fuck, you are tighter than I expected,” he lifted his head.

When he noticed your pained expression, he began to gently massage your clit with his thumb once again. Thankfully, this helped you feel better, and after a while, you began to slowly tighten around his finger.

He asked in a rough voice, “Do you like me fingering you?” and continued to push his finger in and out. “Your pussy is so adorable and swollen. You so desperately need me to fuck you raw.”

He commanded, “Tell me it's just for me,” tensing up his motions as you continued to tighten around his finger.

You said, “Just for you,” and he attempted to press another finger, but you were simply too tense to take it. You said, “Ben, be slow,” in a panic.

“In order for you to take me easier, we need to properly prepare your little pussy. Now spread your legs and don't cover that adorable cunt,” he gave another command. It was then that you realized you were attempting to press your legs together.

You spread your legs so he could see you as per the directions he gave. You let out a loud cry of pleasure and agony as he carefully inserted another finger. Ben swallowed your groans and stretched you with two fingers, his warm lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

You were moaning inside his mouth while his tongue and fingers dominated you. Ben felt your wetness on his fingers, your hips rising to match his rhythm, and he felt like he might come without even touching himself.

With a harsh voice, he commanded, “Cum on my fingers,” and proceeded to fuck you while your walls tensed up. With a loud moan and his name between your lips, you nailed his biceps while he watched you orgasm under his touch. “Good girl. You are so easy to make cum. Fuck, you're a needy one.”

You continued orgasming and wetting them while Ben held your fingers within. Even though your pussy felt extremely sensitive, he continued to finger you without giving you a minute's break after your climax had passed.

“Ben, it feels sensitive.”

“Fucking take it,” he growled. “You'll come as much as I want you to.”

You muttered, “I don't think I can,” as your legs continued to shake uncontrollably.

“You can and you will,” Ben responded, and he proceeded to fuck you even more forcefully than before.

The bedroom was filled with obscene noises, and your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“Cum to me,” he commanded again, and you instantly clenched around his fingers. Putting your hands over his head, you kissed him, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to stop your moans.

As you orgasmed, you sensed him grinning slightly against your lips throughout the kiss. He whispered, “You're so fucking tight, you're almost going to lock me inside your pussy,” as you calmed down after your climax subsided. “I guess you're ready now.”

Your eyes widened with fear and dread as he removed the towel from his belly and threw it to the ground, revealing his firm cock. Ben began to give himself brief strokes while spreading your legs apart. Aware of your discomfort, he smiled slightly at you. “I'll do my best to be gentle. You're enough soaked already.”

You nodded to him, waiting tensely as you watched him pump himself between his rough hands. You tensed up abruptly as the tip of his cock touched your entrance, and he took himself in hand after giving it enough strokes.

He said, “Relax,” and kept pushing the tip inside. “Fuck, take it already.”

You attempted to let him in, your legs trembling with desire and dread, but you couldn't stop clenching.

You whimpered, your eyes welling with tears, as he thrust his cock inside with a forceful move. You also pulled his hair around his neck. Your hips were being held in place by his hands, preventing you from moving them. You were certain that it would bruise badly.

You cried out in fear, “Ben,” as he persisted in pushing. Tears fell from the corner of your eyes onto the covers when you were nailing his arms.

He groaned, “Calm down,” and gave you some time to relax. “It's just the head.”

“Sorry,” you said, ashamed that you weren't able to bear pain and adding unnecessary difficulty to the procedure.

His eyes widened at the sight of your face, and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. He whispered, “Hey, it's okay. You take me so good, so warm,” in between kisses and proceeded to place his cock inside of you once more. You knew it was a major step for you when you felt like he broke your hymen. This time, his hands gently remained on your hips as he sensed a change in your feelings.

Thank goodness, you relaxed between his kisses and compliments, and your wetness allowed him to enter at last. Ben gave you time to get used to his size after his cock completely filled your insides.

After planting another hard kiss on your lips, he asked, “Are you okay now?” and stroked your cheeks. 

You responded, “I'm okay,” as the agony lessened and you began to get pleasure from his cock pulsing inside of you. 

Ben put his hands on the sheets, and as he started to move slowly inside of you, you locked your legs around his hip. 

He groaned, “You're so tight around me,” as he began to move faster. “I should have fucked you sooner.”

He gave you quick kisses, and his bushy beard tickled your chin as he began to fuck you quickly and roughly. “I'll turn this little cunt addicted to my cock.”

As you continued to moan beneath him, he gave another order: “Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.”

You murmured, “Please,” and he slowed down. 

Ben wrapped his hand around your neck and said, “Beg me properly,” but he wasn't using force against you. 

You sighed, “Fuck me hard, please, Ben.” You moaned as you saw his mucsles stretching as he continued to penetrate you quickly and roughly. Your hands nailed his chest and broad abdomen. 

He put your legs on his shoulders and stated, “I'm going to fuck you every day; make you my little cumslut. Do you enjoy having your friend fuck you? Does this turn you on?”

When he kept talking filth, you couldn’t stop clenching around his cock.

He moaned, “Fuck,” in between hard strokes. “Look at this pussy clench. You really get turned on by it.”

Ben intensified his movements as your legs trembled with pleasure around his hips, and you felt your climax strike with a loud moan and a cunning sneer on his face. You tried biting your lip to muffle the moans, but it was difficult as Ben fucked you raw, on top of you, dominating your whole body. 

He whispered, “I'm going to fuck your face another time,” and put his thumb inside your mouth. “Suck it. Prove to me how much you crave my cock inside your mouth.”

You groaned in displeasure as he slowed. Ben strictly said, “Suck it, show me how badly you want my cock inside your mouth, and I'll fuck you as you need,” when you lifted your hips to get him to return to his previous rhythm. 

With the expectation that he would like it, you put your lips around his thumb and started to lick it with your tongue. 

He mumbled, “Fuck yes, gonna cum inside that mouth,” and started fucking you quickly and roughly once more. 

He muttered, “Almost there,” and continued to fuck you while staring at your bouncing tits. 

His hardness continued to throb inside of you as you tightened around him one more time and orgasmed. He moaned and spilled inside of you, filling you with his thick and warm ropes. 

Ben continued to fill your pussy as your climax subsided. You felt incredibly satisfied because you felt so full of his seed. 

When he was finished, he carefully pulled out his cock, exposing the blood at the tip. Ben gave you a long, hard kiss on the lips when he noticed you were staring at it. 

You offered him a tiny smile as he whispered, “Come closer,” and he embraced you with his large arms. “Are you alright?” 

You continued to stroke his beard while responding, “Yes.” Actually, you've never felt better.

You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[pathologicalreid]

excuse me but spencer and kindergarten teacher reader is just what i need and i didn’t even know!! it’s like my new favorite ahhh i need more please!!

fishbowl | S.R.

you offer to bring spencer lunch when he forgets his at home, leading you to become an object of curiosity at the BAU

also kindergarten teacher!reader: kindergarten crush

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: the bau being nosy, kindergarten teacher!reader, pet fish/class pets, lots of dialogue, spencer has his cane word count: 1.79k a/n: i love spencer and kindergarten teacher reader they are very important to me!! i would equate this fic to spencer bringing a girl home for the first time, but home is the BAU. thank you for requesting!

“Ma’am,” an unfamiliar voice said insistently, you snapped out of your awe-induced stupor and looked up at the security guard. He didn’t seem overtly threatening, save for the gun that was holstered to his hip, but he was looking at you the same way you looked at your students when they first came to school in the morning. He was looking at you like you were lost. “Can I help you?”

You frowned at the guard for a moment, fumbling with your school bag for your phone to call Spencer for help. You held the phone in your hand, trying to open it with busy hands as someone approached you, and just as you were about to ask the security guard for a second, you were met with a familiar face. She had cut bangs in her dark hair, but other than that, the woman in front of you was the same Emily Prentiss you had met months ago, “Hey, Miss Y/L/N, right?”

The relief in your eyes had to be visible as she smiled, “Right,” you affirmed, “It’s good to see you again, Agent Prentiss.”

“Oh, no, please, call me Emily,” she insisted, taking charge and reaching over to take your tote despite your protests. “What brought you all the way out to Quantico?”

Ducking your head as she led you through the security checkpoint, you clipped your visitor badge to the waistband of your skirt and crossed your arms in front of your stomach before answering, “Uh, Sp- er, Dr. Reid forgot his lunch this morning, so I offered to bring him something.”

Arching a dark brow, Emily led you into the elevator and hit the button before leaning against the wall – sixth floor, you’d have to remember that. “Y/N… I know,” she said, proffering you a knowing look that made you flush.

“Spence left his lunch at his place,” you shrugged, “I had a half day today, so I told him I could bring something by.”

Humming, watched carefully as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other, “So, you went to Spencer’s place with your key and grabbed his lunch for him.”

Nervously, you looked up at the number above the elevator doors – why was this taking so long? “No, there’s a deli around the corner from my school, he likes the soup there. I have a key, but the deli was on the way. I’ve been watering his plants while he’s away. That’s why he gave me a key. If you were wondering.”

Your secret was out, you rambled when you got nervous. You hadn’t even considered the fact that Spencer would want to keep the private aspects of your life private.

Emily definitely noticed the sigh of relief you let loose as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, “Spencer’s desk is through there. At the end on the right,” she directed you, handing your bag back to you.

As you slung your bag back over your shoulder, you thanked the person who held the door open for you and made your way through the bullpen. “Next time,” you said, garnering the attention of your boyfriend, “You have to come get me. If they ever let me back in this building, that is.”

Casually, he reached for your hand, pulling you closer to his chair until you were close enough to drop a kiss on his lips, “I thought you were going to call.”

Your shoulders slumped as you set the lunch on the only clear spot on his desk, “Terribly, impossibly long story,” you waved him off, setting your bag on the floor as you noticed a familiar wooden apparatus next to Spencer’s desk. “Your cane is back,” you observed, “Are you alright?”

He nodded, “’M fine,” he reassured you, “It hurt this morning when I woke up, but it’s fine now.” He turned his head at the sound of a door opening, you followed his gaze as a blonde made her way out of the bullpen, leaving the glass doors swinging behind her.

It was hard enough to come around to the fact that Spencer’s job was dangerous, but the fact that he had actually been shot – not long before he met you – was even harder to come to terms with. You watched him carefully as he got up and found an available chair for you to sit down in and begrudgingly came to the same conclusion, he seemed fine.

As you unpacked your lunch, a new face approached Spencer’s desk, leaning against the metal, “Reid, who’s this?”

Upon first glance, the man in a V-neck t-shirt was very protective over your boyfriend. From what you knew about the team, that made a lot of sense – Spencer was the youngest member. Taking the initiative, you stood up and reached your hand out for him to shake, introducing yourself to him, and he introduced himself as Derek Morgan.

“Alright, pretty boy,” Derek said, nodding over at Spencer. “So, what brings you here to the BAU?”

Explaining yourself again, you sat back down, crossing your ankles and watching as Spencer’s boss walked by, ushering Derek along with him. “Mr. Hotchner,” you greeted, happy to see a familiar face. Your eyes followed them as Derek said something about this being the first time Reid’s had a girl in the BAU.

You laughed slightly, glancing over to Spencer who didn’t seem bothered by the commotion.

“How do you know Hotch?” Emily asked from her desk, she nodded in the direction of the unit chief.

Passing Spencer a napkin, you looked over at Emily, “He toured my school with his son. They’re talking about switching me to preschool next school year, so I was there – he recognized my name.”

A solemn expression passed over Prentiss’ face, “Right, how is Cody?”

“Good! He’s doing really well, he and his mom are moving over the summer to be closer to her parents, so he’ll be at a different elementary for first grade,” you explained, wondering if they usually got updates like that on the children they find.

You waited for another question, but Emily’s phone started ringing, “Saved by the bell,” Spencer said, switching off his monitor and turning his attention fully onto you. “How was school?”

While eating, you explained how with half days, you usually just have an activity day with the kids and, for some reason, today you found it impossible to get them to stay on task. “I get it though, I think it’s hard to pay attention when the workday is shortened, even if I have a ton of lesson planning left to do after the final bell. Especially if they’re moving me next year.”

“When will you know for sure?” He asked, eyes catching on something behind you.

Shrugging, you balled up your trash and put it back in the deli bag, “I might not for a while. They’re trying to hire someone for preschool but if they can’t find anyone, I might be pulling double duty… What are you looking at?” You turned in the desk chair to find the blonde from earlier and another woman, also blonde, but dressed in bright colors, “Ah,” you said, understanding what Spencer was looking at.

The two women looked away, pretending like they hadn’t been staring. “I’m sorry,” Spencer apologized, “Usually on Fridays most people go off campus for lunch, but it seems like today was the exception.”

Leaning back in the chair, you gave Spencer a knowing look, “They’re tapping on the fishbowl,” you concurred.

“The fishbowl?” Spencer asked, frowning in confusion.

Turning around again, you waved at the two blondes in an attempt to try to get them to come in, “The kids do it all the time, they’re tapping on the fishbowl to see if they can get the fish to move,” you elaborated.

“Fish? What about fish?” A new voice chirped, and you turned to find the blondes had elected to come into the bowl.

You nodded, “Two fish. They’re the class pets.”

“Do they have names?” One of them asked, looking between you and Spencer curiously.

Spencer chuckled, “Nikola Tesla and Rosalind Franklin,” he answered – he was, after all, the one who had named them in the first place.

Beaming at your boyfriend before going back to his co-workers, you giggled at their confused looks, “Do you teach a class filled with geniuses?”

“No,” you smiled, “they’re four- and five-year-olds, they call the fish Nikki and Rosie,” you clarified. “I’m Y/N,” you said, deciding to forego a handshake and waving at them instead.

The two of them introduced themselves – JJ and Penelope – and continued to make conversation with you before the latter of the two gasped, “You should come to girls’ night!”

There was a chime of agreement from Emily’s desk, and you looked over at Spencer to see if he wanted to weigh in. Truthfully, he looked less than excited at the prospect of you spending the night with his co-workers.

“What, Reid?” JJ asked teasingly, “Are you afraid we’ll tell your girlfriend all of your dirty secrets?”

A laugh erupted from Derek’s desk, “He would need to have dirty secrets for you to tell!”

At that point, Spencer looked like he was ready to drop his head on his desk, you reached over and set a hand on his knee. You peered back up at JJ and Penelope, “Can I get back to you?”

Holding up her pointer finger, Garcia grinned, “Absolutely, have Spencer give you my number!”

You stood up at that, gathering your things and silently letting Spencer know that you were ready to leave, “I’ll walk you out,” he offered, standing up, and grabbing his cane as he did so.

Waving goodbye to his team, you led the way out, holding the door for Spencer as he tried to wave away any remnants of your concern. The two of you stood in silence as you waited for the elevator, resisting the urge to hit the call button again as your impatience resurfaced.

The two of you let people off of the elevator before boarding the empty car, “I’m really sorry about… all of that.”

Frowning, you kept your eyes trained on the elevator doors, “It’s like a little family,” you murmured, completely disregarding his apology.

“What?” He asked, turning to face you.

You pointed up toward the sixth floor, “Your team,” you replied. “The way you all function. It’s like a family and you’re the younger brother – at least in that dynamic.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “Oh, yeah. Kind of.”

Nudging at him with your elbow, you smiled slyly at your boyfriend, “Do you think they liked me?”

He nodded reassuringly, “I think you will very quickly be welcomed into the family.”  

[missnxthingg]

Lando scared to hold his baby…just flufffy stuff between him reads and new baby

pairing: Lando Norris x Wife!Reader {daddy Lando au) summary: Lando Norris has held countless of kids through his life, but it's too scary when it comes to his son words: 1 K - warnings: Just an overdose of cuteness!! author’s notes:  As you can see by my previous series, I'm a sucker for daddy Lando. Him being just an idiot and so cute, it's everything I needed. Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it!

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Lando has two beautiful nieces to which he has helped look after and take care through the years, always taking them on adventures and making sure to keep them entertained so his brother and sister-in-law could have a rest. He had never had a single issue on picking them up, ever. And not to talk about the countless kids that come to meet him on track. Last year, on an event for McLaren, he held a tiny pretty baby in his hands, so his father could take a picture by their car.

But it was different when he came to his baby.

He had been waiting for so long to meet his kid. He and Y/N had been waiting for so long to have a baby, deciding the right time to give it a try, going through the process of trying to get pregnant and finally getting the good news, only to have to wait nine months until they finally met. And yet, when the moment came, he panicked.

“I can’t do this, baby”, he mumbled, stepping away from his wife, who had been carrying their son, Liam, between her arms in the safeness of their maternity room. They had been alone for a good half hour now, getting to know their brand new little son. 

Y/N rolled her eyes as she rocked little Liam back and forth, while he was deep into sleep under her hold.

“What are you so afraid of, my love? It’s just a baby! You’ve held countless babies before, like Mila and Athena. They are fine, aren’t they? You haven’t dropped them in their heads, have you?”

“But it’s different this time”, he brushed a finger through his son’s cheek and sighed. “I’m clumsy. You know me. What if I drop him?”

“You won’t drop him, Lando”, she toughened up, but he still swallowed dry. “Baby, I trust you more than anything in the world. I know you won’t ever do anything to harm our son”.

Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss on top of his cheek. Lando was still nervous and thinking about the idea of holding his son for the first time. It was a big deal; becoming a dad is quite scary. What if he isn’t good enough? What if Liam ends up hating him? What if he harms his precious son?

“That’s a lot o what ifs”, Y/N chuckled, making him realized he had said the last sentences out loud. “Lando, we’re in this together, okay? I know it’s scary, but you can do this. You can do anything. You’re Lando Norris, for God’s sake!”

He took a deep breath and agreed with a nod. Then he found a place to seat, just to be more secure with holding the baby for the first time. Y/N gently place Liam between his arms and stayed close as Lando started to feel more secure about holding their son. She only relaxed when he opened a big smile, bringing their kid closer to his body.

“I’m holding him”, he mumbled, making his wife laugh at the statement. She took a seat next to him and leaned over their son, admiring how pretty he looks. “Oh my God, I’m holding him”.

“You’re doing great, my love”, she pressed a kiss on the crown of his head and cuddled into his arm, making their little family as close together as they possibly could be. “I’m so proud of you, Lan. You’re going to be the best dad in the world”.

“He’s so pretty”, he said, admiring Liam from up close. “Looks a little bit like me already. Mum said I was also born with a lot of hair”.

“We carry them for nine months, only for them to turn out to be exactly like their dad”, Y/N laughed. “But that’s okay, because you’re the dad. I would have ten thousand kids that look exactly like you, if I could”.

Lando laughed at her joke and nudged his nose against hers, just before he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, you know that?”

“For a really long time now”, she smiled.

“Thank you so much for giving me a son. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough for this blessing”, he declared. “You’re the love of my life, and I’m so happy about the little family we’re building”.

“I love you so much too. And I can’t wait to grow our little family a little bit more”, she kissed him again. “Everything is worthy and less scary next to you”.

Lando and Y/N turned their attention back to Liam, who sighed into his dad’s arms, making them laugh at his action. She swore she saw her husband shed a few tears as he analysed every inch of their son’s face from up close. Their little miracle was finally between their arms.

“We’re going to be best friends, little one”, he mumbled. “Daddy and mummy love you so much, and we’re going to have so much fun together”.

He spent the entire day holding Liam between his arms, and would refuse to let go off him under any cost. Y/N begged him to put their son down so he could rest and go to sleep, but all Lando wanted to do, now that he had the confidence, was hold their baby close to him.

“Look at this drooling daddy. Liam, you’re so lucky”, she giggled, pressing a kiss on her husband’s forehead, as he got comfortable between the hospital’s couch, ready for a long night as a father. “I love you, have a good night, baby”.

“Good night to you too, baby. I love you”.

And just like that, Lando welcomed the night and some rest right next to his newborn son, who quietly slept through the entire night in the safeness of his father’s hold. And after that first scare, he was never afraid of holding his kid ever again.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

[deebris]

The Mysterious Visitor 1

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: On a cold, snowy dawn, a naive young girl knocks on the door of Wayne Manor in search of her brother, whom she hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad.

Word count: 2.1k

Note: I felt the need to emphasize that Talia is very attached to the reader and kept her hidden from Bruce. Although it's obvious that the reader is their biological daughter, I still haven't specified her physical characteristics.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

It was late at night when the doorbell of Wayne Manor rang. Much to Alfred’s dismay, he seemed to be the only one awakened by the sound, as he didn't hear anyone else getting up to answer the door. Whoever was waiting outside seemed patient, or perhaps shy, since it took a good two minutes for the bell to ring again. A single chime, just like the first time.

It was snowing now; no one would be crazy enough to show up in the middle of the night in this cold unless it was something important. Because of this, Alfred hurried to slip on his slippers, moving as quickly as he could to the entrance, but still cautiously peering through the peephole to see who the visitor was.

All he could see was the top of the head of someone very short, with a few strands of hair standing up, covered in snowflakes.

“Who is it, Alfred?” The sudden question from behind didn’t scare him, but it did surprise him. Dick had been awakened by the sharp sound of the doorbell the second time it rang and came down quickly to check.

“I don’t know yet, Master Dick,” the butler replied, intrigued, glancing quickly at the boy to see him rubbing sleep from his eyes. Alfred noticed how he stepped forward, obviously cautious about who might be on the other side. “I can handle this, sir,” he stopped him while turning the knob and opening the door without giving him a chance to protest.

Alfred tightened his robe as he felt the cold air rush in, ruffling the white hairs on his head and making the hairs on his arm stand up. He looked in astonishment at the young girl standing before him, clearly suffering from the outside temperature. Her lips were trembling and chapped, with a trace of dried blood coming from one of the cracks. Her rapid breathing also did not go unnoticed, forming a cloud with each exhale.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asked with furrowed brows, feeling pity for her condition. Perhaps she was just a street child seeking shelter; you didn’t seem dangerous in any way.

“I-is this the W-Wayne Manor?” The question came out stuttered, and your eyes had a confused expression. He wasted no more time and extended his arm to pull you inside. It didn’t seem right to leave you out there.

“Come in, come in. Don’t stay out there, it’s not healthy.” He had that concerned, almost paternal tone, and you didn’t refuse his gesture. You grabbed the old man in a hug to keep safe from the cold, grateful he didn’t push you away. In fact, he pulled you closer, placing both hands around you and guiding you to the largest couch in the room.

“It’s just a girl,” he announced to Dick, who had been trying to peek at your figure since the door had opened.

“And who is she?” Dick moved closer, sitting on the couch facing the one where you and Alfred were seated and embraced. You didn’t seem to want to leave Alfred’s side anytime soon, appreciating the warmth he provided, clutching him firmly.

“What is your name, dear?” You heard the old man’s question, but it took you a while to respond. Alfred didn’t mind being ignored, or at least he thought he would be, already averting his eyes from you until your fragile voice was heard.

“Y/n,” you pronounced your name simply, so quietly it could only be understood due to the common silence of the early morning.

“What were you doing out there? Where are your parents, young lady?” Alfred pressed on with more questions, rubbing one of his hands on your back to bring comfort.

Now that he could look at you more attentively, he saw how well-dressed you were. And just by feeling the fabric of your coat, he knew it was an expensive garment. Your knowledge of Wayne Manor also didn’t escape him. It didn’t seem like something important to note in this situation, but you certainly weren’t an abandoned child; you were probably lost and knew them somehow.

His question seemed to upset you, as you turned your face to hide it, avoiding giving an answer. He noticed your reaction and decided to change the subject: “Let’s take off this coat and get a blanket. What do you think?” He moved you away, already pulling the sleeves of the garment off your arms, and you didn’t resist. The coat was damp from the snow and definitely no longer served to keep you warm.

“She’s going to get hypothermia if she stays like this,” Dick said hurriedly as he went to get a blanket, finding a thick enough one on one of the armchairs. Someone must have left it there before going to bed.

“I will light the fireplace,” you heard the old man say as he got up from the couch and picked up some sort of stick, probably a large lighter, to start the fire.

You opened your mouth to try to thank him, but stopped yourself, finally feeling shy upon realizing you were in strangers’ home. You felt a large, soft blanket wrap around you, turning your eyes to see the tall boy crouched in front of you, draping it over your shoulders.

“In a few minutes, you’ll feel better.” His voice sounded genuinely concerned, and you felt guilty for disturbing their night. You regretted disobeying your mother; you were supposed to be home now.

Dick saw your lost look, wondering who you were. Your expression was distant, and he thought you were lost in thought, until he felt your hand grab his wrist, preventing him from getting up. Your touch was gentle, yet cold, and now your eyes were focused on his.

“Does Damian live here?” you asked hopefully.

“Damian?” This caught him off guard. He was confused, processing for a few seconds what he had heard. From his confused tone, you felt your hopes fading, thinking he had no idea who you were talking about, but his next words encouraged you a little more: “How do you know him?”

You hesitated. At first, you weren’t sure if they were trustworthy, and your mother always said to be careful with whom you spoke. Growing up within the League of Assassins made you aware of how evil some people could be, and having grown up under Talia’s extremely protective arm, who treated you like an untouchable jewel, you were limited to conversations with few people, developing an abnormal fear of strangers. But bad people wouldn’t have taken you in as they did, would they?

“We’re siblings. Is he here?” Your confession didn’t carry the same weight for you as it did for the two men in the room. Alfred heard well, and like Dick, widened his eyes. Neither of them remembered Damian ever mentioning he had a sister. If you were truly an al Ghul, where was Talia? That woman might have had the blood of a viper, but she didn’t seem like the type to let her daughter wander alone at night.

“You said… He’s your brother?” Although Dick’s question was directed at you, he looked at Alfred, who returned an intrigued frown.

“Yes.” Your voice sounded simple to him, still not noticing the tension in the room.

“Master Dick,” Alfred said his name as a cue to follow him, walking away from the couch, and the boy quickly stood up. You found it strange and turned your neck to see them going to talk in the corner of the room in whispers, watching them with curiosity.

“I think it would be wise to inform Master Bruce.” The butler sighed, trying to speak as softly as possible, knowing you were watching them. “If she is Ra's al Ghul’s granddaughter, it’s convenient to take her home as soon as possible and avoid any unnecessary conflict with the League of Assassins.”

“You think she ran away from home?” Dick asked, turning to see you, who now was no longer watching them but had your gaze down, playing with your hands.

“I suppose so,” Alfred said punctually, moving away and walking to the stairs, climbing them with his usual formal posture. “I’ll wake him up. Stay here.” He seemed calm, but inside he was worried.

“Right…” Dick murmured to himself while taking slow steps back to the couch. He analyzed your face for a few seconds before sitting hesitantly beside you. You were almost disappearing inside that blanket, wrapped up like a cocoon, and he found it a bit amusing. All he could see was your head and hands.

You didn’t bother to say anything, nor did he. Instead, he clasped his hands together and paid attention to anything else, trying to hold back the urge to ask questions but couldn’t help himself: “So, you’re Talia’s daughter?”

“You know my mother?” You raised your gaze, and your tone was excited by the possibility.

“Not personally.” He picked at his nails before deciding to keep the conversation going, as the silence was becoming too uncomfortable: “My name is Dick, by the way. But you probably know that.”

“The old man is your grandfather?” For the first time, you referred to Alfred as “the old man” out loud, which made him smile amusedly. Dick found it funny how the nickname sounded innocent, imagining how the man would react knowing someone had referred to him like that.

“It's like he was. He's family.”

“Is Dami your family now?” You asked, trembling with the answer. It wasn’t something to be proud of, but you couldn’t help feeling jealous, and you hated it. It was an excruciating feeling, mixing sadness, anger, and other confusing emotions.

Dick frowned at your question. You seemed disappointed with the idea and it didn’t escape his notice how you were completely unaware of Damian’s current life. It’s been more than two years since he came to live here, enough time for Dick to see him as he always saw his other brothers and participate in patrols as an equal.

“He’s my brother too,” he tried to sound compassionate, and suddenly the silence returned, as you didn’t want to talk anymore and he didn’t know what to say. A lump formed in your throat and your heart felt heavy with each new beat. “How old are you?” He tried again, this time changing the subject.

“Twelve,” you answered immediately, but then shook your head and corrected yourself: “Thirteen.”

“Twelve?” Dick repeated the first answer to try to confirm, letting out a muffled laugh at your strange confusion.

“It’s thirteen.”

That was impossible. Damian was thirteen.

“I still haven’t gotten used to the new age. My birthday was on Monday.”

Damian’s birthday was on Monday.

Dick swallowed hard. He lost his voice for a few seconds, trying to piece things together in his head. He felt his heart race with nerves, doubting if he had been hearing voices all along.

“Y/n, right?” He said your name, seeing you nod positively. “Are you and Damian by any chance… twins?”

You heard him well, but couldn’t help feeling your heart ache with sorrow. He had no idea who you were, even after you knew Damian saw him as a brother. The realization that Damian hadn’t even mentioned you was painful, and as you felt the tears start to roll down your cheek, you quickly wiped them away.

“Hey, hey. Why are you crying?” He moved closer, brushing your hair back with his fingers. You seemed to be the type to answer yes or no questions with gestures, as you nodded positively to him once again.

“Twins…” Dick whispered to no one, trying to come out of shock.

“Y/n,” he called your name hoping you would pay attention, but you continued trying to dry the unstoppable tears. “Y/n,” he called for the second time, and you finally looked at him again.

Now, analyzing your face after what he had just discovered, he finally noticed how much your features resembled Bruce’s. It was like he had been blind and now could finally see.

“Does the name Bruce Wayne mean anything to you?”

“He’s the owner of this house,” you said nonchalantly, as if that was all that mattered and you needed to know.

His next breath came out shaky, completely incredulous. ‘Damn Talia,’ he cursed mentally. This night would be long and, undoubtedly, very complicated.

[leighsartworks216]

Ominiscience

Sylus x gn!Reader

I just love when Sylus gets to protect MC from others

Warnings: unwanted advances, alcohol mention, protective Sylus, Mephisto keeping an eye on you, pet names, swearing, established relationship

Word Count: 1,009

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Wish you could’ve come with me. It’s boring here without you :(

You sigh as you send the text, leg bouncing as you thank the bartender for your drink. There’s no alcoholic sting when you take a sip, but you don’t expect there to be. You do have to drive back home, after all. Or maybe you’d risk the drive to the N109 Zone, just to see Sylus.

Tara invited you out to a bar to celebrate a mission success. And despite helping you in that success, you didn’t want to risk the leader of Onychinus being in Linkon around other Hunters. But you also didn’t want to disappoint Tara, especially when you’d been spending so much time in the N109 Zone when you aren’t working. You didn’t want her to think you didn’t enjoy her company or value her friendship.

Except, she got swept up by a cute guy five minutes after sitting down. They smiled together and laughed as they danced to the music, holding hands and swaying close like they’d known each other for years. And you were left at the bar to nurse virgin mocktails and cling to every message he sends you.

Awe, poor kitten. Shall I send Mephisto to keep you company?

You can’t help grinning.

For company, or for target practice?

“Hey, gorgeous.” You startle and turn toward the voice. A man gestures to the stool beside you with a smirk that makes your skin crawl. He looked completely normal, even a little handsome, but something about the way his eyes looked at you had your senses on high alert. “This seat taken?”

You glance down the row of seats. There are quite a few open, further away and a safe distance from you. “No, but neither are any of those.”

He laughs at your comment and sits down, leaning his elbow on the counter and barely glancing at the bartender when he orders. You shift your drink closer.

“I like a seat with a view.”

Your phone buzzes again. You start to pick it up so you can answer the new message, hoping your clear lack of interest will get this stranger to leave you alone, but another hand grabs it and slams it back onto the bar, trapping your hand with it. His grip is relentless, squeezing your fingers together uncomfortably as he leans closer. You smell the alcohol from his drink on his breath.

“It’s rude to ignore someone, sweetheart,” he chastises. “What’s the matter, you got a boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “I don’t believe you.”

Your phone begins ringing, vibrating against your crushed hand while it plays a silly tune, one you’d picked out just to annoy Sylus. The man snickers. “What kind of ringtone is that? Is your friend calling? She must be cute, too, huh?”

“You can answer it if you want,” you say, taking on an air of confidence. “Maybe she’ll think you sound pretty cute, too.”

He grins, eyes studying your hand beneath his as he considers the offer. Your heart is leaden in your chest. If he doesn’t answer and Sylus doesn’t threaten him into the next lifetime, you don’t know what else to do. The bartender’s back is to you as he talks with another customer, and Tara is probably too engrossed in her new admirer to notice your struggle.

“Alright,” he finally agrees. You try not to breathe a sigh of relief just yet as he releases you and you hand over the device. The idiot doesn’t even bother checking the call photo background, a stolen snapshot of Sylus with snow in his hair and fireworks lighting up his face. He just accepts and brings it right up to his ear, smiling at you confidently. “Hey, cutie.”

You bite your lip to fight a growing laugh from bubbling up as you watch in real time as his face changes through several different emotions.

At first, he’s just confused when a man’s voice answers the call. Then pissed. He’s glaring at you when he starts to hang up, but stops and listens again. The anger flickers into worry for a second. A split second. Enough time for his mind to try to rationalize that the words, the threats, coming in from the receiver aren’t real and can’t possibly happen to him. And then it settles. Color drains from his face. His eyes are wide, glancing from you to the people around him helplessly, clutching the phone with both hands. You can’t hear Sylus’s voice, but you wonder if he’s using Mephisto to relay the man’s movements.

It’s only been a couple minutes when the man slowly pulls the phone from his ear and holds it out to you, cradling it in both hands like a highly reactive bomb. He stammers until he finally whimpers out, “It’s- It’s for you. S-Sorry.”

You take the phone and he trips over himself trying to get away, frantically searching the crowd for the mysterious stranger that threatened his life seconds ago.

You hold it up to your ear. “Thank you for that.” You take a relaxed sip of your drink.

Sylus chuckles. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Mhm.” You glance over your shoulder. “Where’s Mephisto hiding?”

“Outside. Up a little, look to your right… There you are, sweetie,” he purrs. Mephisto’s red eyes shine like rubies through the glass of a high-set window. You can’t see his body, only the movement of his eyes as he jerks his head around. “As I was saying, have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Name anything you want. The chef will have it ready by the time you get here.”

You turn away and smile, trying to hide just how dopey it looks from him. “Do you have any work to do tonight?”

From the smile in his own voice, you’re sure he saw it anyway. “Just say the word and my schedule is cleared.”

“Which word?”

There’s an anticipatory pause. You can imagine the feel of his breath on your ear as he whispers into the microphone. “Please.”

[screampied]

yuki and reader scissoring while choso begs to be in the middle ,,, vegas do you see the vision 🗣️🗣️🗣️

❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso being the third wheel between you & yuki

warnings. fem! reader, cucking, scissoring, praise, dirty talk, needy choso, mdni.

“such a pretty girl,” she’d purr in a soft voice—her hand gripping against your heel as she’s gradually rocking herself against you. you couldn’t suppress the sweet mewls and moans from your glossy lips even if you tried. your legs were all sprawled out and yuki’s on top of you—rubbing her clit against yours and it feels simply euphoric. “heh, gotta keep up with me angel,” she creates kiss trails near your heel. her pace had so much rhythm, you’re just slumped back against the bed with your mouth slightly dangling open. “mhm. fuck me back jus’ like that, thereeee we go.”

it was so much mobility of her hips, you bit your lip as your eyes roam all over her body—she’s grinding against you continuously and you let off a moan once her legs interlace with you further. her pussy jerks against yours and you whimper out a sweet, “y—yuki, f-fuckkk.”

choso gulps, watching his two lovers bump clits in such a sensual way—his pout displays against his lips before he speaks in a needy tone, lowering his head towards the blond. “yuki, i want a turn too. you’re being s-stingy with her.”

“i told you to be a good boy ‘n wait, choso,” she murmurs, averting her eyes back towards you before silencing your syrupy sweet moans with a kiss. you’re out of breath, practically dragging your hands up her spine before pulling her closer towards the warmth of your body. you taste the remains of her favored lipgloss on your tongue before she departs, watching choso frown. “aw. just a few more minutes then you’ll get a turn, baby.”

“s—stop calling me that, yuki.” he mumbles, glancing down at you before softly strumming a thumb against your tummy.

“make me, pretty boy.” she jibes, giving him a quick wink before going back to kissing you.

“you’re . . you’re being a brat, yuki,” choso huffs out a cute irritated sigh. he leans close to give you a kiss. they’re both competing with you, solely on who can coat you with more kisses.

choso softly strums a thumb near the edge of your chin, pulling you closer into a deep kiss.

he tastes sweet . . sweeter than he’s ever been.

even though, yuki’s continuing to vigorously sway her hips against yours—your right arm hooks around her waist as she’s rutting back and forth, about to fall into a blissful spasm.

“i— i want you,” choso speaks between soft breaths, foreheads meeting against each other. the way he was trying to get between you both was so cute.

one kiss turns into two, then three, then four . .

a plethora of adoring pecks near your lips. when choso’s horny and needy, it’s adorable.

he literally can’t keep his hands to himself.

he allows his hands roam all over your body as yuki’s slowly lifts up your leg a tad bit higher.

with the angle she has, her sopping cunt resumes to clash against yours. the moist wet plops of squelches that escaped from the both of you were so lewd.

the entirety of the provocative scene taking place was simply downright dirty. the blonde woman starts to moan herself the second she feels a sudden rapture pool up inside her clenched abdomen.

“my . . my,” she squeaks, a sheepish smile going against her lips before she picks up her pace a bit more. her voice was teasing, a mere harmony to listen to.

she feels the slight twinge that lasts for only a second, it shifts into pleasure and you’re surely about to lose it. yuki pulls choso away from you before kissing you again for probably the umpteenth time. with a pout, he watches before not expecting yuki to bring him into a kiss also.

“oh you big baby,” she hums playfully, still grinding against you—with the obscene view, your eyes linger towards her chiseled abs that flex and tense with each jerk she creates forward. she’s unintentionally sexy, with a brief moment of her hips—you gaze as a few beads of sweat race down her stomach and she shoots you a sly grin. “if you wanted a kiss, choso all you had to do was ask.”

“y—yuki..” choso moans, melting into butter just from her coquettish actions.

her plump lips were so soft as they went against his, you felt your cunt twitch at watching them make out. choso doesn’t know what to do with his hands and she titters, grabbing his hands to place on her waist. still multitasking, she’s keeping up her rhythm at pulverizing her hips steady against you. so wet, the noises that squealed from your pussy rings throughout your ears and even reverbs across the entire room.

the both of you were close—substantially approaching that familiar unavoidable release. tips of your ears grew out to be so hot, your hand drags towards her ass to squeeze it and she giggles.

“aw,” she teases, pulling away from choso for a breath of fresh air. he’s so embarrassed—but he didn’t exactly want her to pull away. choso subtly licks his lips before averting his eyes back down toward you. the stimulation, you find your back starting to arch before feeling your climax arise at such a rapid speed. it was sporadic the way everything was happening at once. “kiss our girl while she cums, choso.”

“f— fine,” he stammers, and he’s trying to keep up his jealous grumbly facade but he’s clearly failing. he didn’t know who he wanted more—you or yuki. alas, it was choso, so more than likely he wanted you both. and he did, he leaned up close before lowering his head toward you. you heave, breaths becoming more and more heavy before he softly laps his tongue against the inner part of your neck. you moan from his sweet touch, feeling choso then start to coat the entire frame of your collarbone with nothing but kisses.

“s—so sweet,” he croons, starting to gingerly nibble against your skin. “let yuki make you cum, c’mon princess,” and he leans in to kiss near your lips, “mwah,” he coos, skimming a thumb against the crevices of your mouth before staring at you. his naturally drowsy stare, it was so loving. he was still needy, yet seeing you so close to your orgasm was enough to make him wanna please you even more. after all, your pleasure was always their pleasure. “pretty girl.”

“yuki i’m gonna c—cummm,” you’d huff out in irregular pants, feeling the familiar coil within you be on the very edge of snapping. your hand squeezes yuki’s wrist and she’s just as vocal as you. sweet voice honeyed with such smoothness that you could listen to her all day.

she moves choso aside, hearing him grumble cutely before she kisses you again this time, every few seconds she breaks away before whispering, “give it to me baby,” and soft cacophonies along the sides of, “come on. make a mess all on my pussy.”

her words, it was filled with such dirtiness. she stares into your eyes, your hands merely dragging her hips back and forth before you end up cumming. yuki matches your peak, a gasp rippling from her lips before she slows her thrusts down.

“fuckkkk, sweetheart,” she moans, still grinding against you but she slows down—reaching a hand between your legs to spread your swollen lips open. she runs a thumb down your slit, watching you twitch and spasm before he exhales deeply. yuki giggles, feeling choso’s chin rests against her shoulder. he was done being patient, and he wanted attention too. “fine, fine. so impatient.”

she gets off of you and you’re catching your breath before choso sits you up. he peppers a few sweet kisses near your neck before whining.

“waited so long,” he shakily sighs. as you run a hand down his chiseled chest, he gets up between you and your nude body. as he inches closer, that’s when you feel it. choso’s hardened boner that poked through his shorts, he was embarrassed—but he wanted you so bad. mwah, another kiss presses against your forehead before he spreads your legs, softly rubbing against your sensitive entrance. “now it’s m-my turn, princess. just lie back ‘n let me do everything o—okay?”

[kombuuuu]

Can I request Miles 42 bullies you at school and is always bothering you but he gets mad and tries to fight someone else who is bullying you because he’s the only one who can be mean to you😩😩‼️

Deflecting.

Earth42!Miles x Fem!Reader

“I would get your hands off her if I were you, homeboy.”

This one is kiiiinda violent, not by Miles mostly be warned C:

PART TWO !!

such a cute wife (throw me on an island to live in my delusions)

You were quiet, silent most days. Not stepping out of the very thick circle you’d made for yourself consisting of just you.

And yet, still.

Still, the mere thought of keeping to yourself as a permanent transfer student would make even the most daft of people scoff.

You weren’t anything special, you were void of attention, and happy that way. Acted appropriately and left anger at the door. Had nothing and no one to complain to, so why make problems for yourself?

You’re entire life was just floating along your schooling and waiting patiently for the day you left. Even if you were the rare case of “Got transferred half way through the year because the school saw potential!” girl, you’d just wanted to be left to yourself.

But even the premise of that seemed almost impossible now.

Because ever since you were pushed by some rushing kid straight into Miles Morales, tripping him over with you. Him and his asshole friends had made it their life mission to bother you.

“The cute new girl?”

“Yeah, the one that—,” The first boy glanced at Miles. “,—tripped on.”

“Oooh, shit—, She’s fucked.” The other man whispered back, laughing under his breath. You could feel his taunting stare at the back of your head, and when you checked your peripherals, Miles was sending a sickening glare your way.

You sighed.

—

The ache in your head was probably the only thing keeping you awake.

The day dragging longer than usual had you right about ready to get home and knock yourself out within a minute of being in your bed. Your hand slowly dragged down your face, taking a deep breath and stuffing your jacket somewhere in your locker. The heat of the school mingling with the temperatures the Summer was providing and then adding on the rain from the prior day? You cursed Brooklyn and its humidity. Reaching to close your locker, you finally fit the jacket in the already cramped space. A little piece of the fabric poked out, and you pushed it in while simultaneously trying to keep everything else in too. Pulling a face before you finally managed to get it shut, and slip your finger out before it can get trapped. You turned the key into the dumb metal and scowled at it before pocketing the key and turning to leave.

Being so engrossed in your feud with the locker, you had failed to realise the very man who’d given you this headache, leering over your frame. Turning straight into his chest and reacting in a pained groan, gripping your forehead in displeasure and glaring up at whomever was standing so close to you.

Which happened to be Miles Morales. Staring down at you with cold, dulled eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” The simmering anger in your voice was made known, and also promptly ignored. He tilted his head down at you, braids shifting with the movement, his expression barely changing. If only he had a conscience. Then maybe you could read his expression, the emotions on his face —, but in this universe? The thought seemed laughable.

He stepped forward, sending you staggering closer against your locker.

“Back off—,” You’re voice shook a little as you swore. Dropping his eyelids into a glare, he spoke, “You keep talkin’ to me like that, and we gon’ have a problem.”

“You keep creeping up on me like a fuckin’—,”

“Like a what?” Miles’s bored, taunting voice grated against your eardrums.

You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving, and clenched your jaw. Shaking out the annoyance in your bones, you kept your calm.

“Don’t get shy on me now.”

A surge of anger rose through you, before you willed it away.

He was antagonising you.

You tried not to instigate him. If you didn’t encourage it, maybe he’d go away.

“Never mind. Whatever, Why—,”

“Miles, my man.” A different man clapped him on the shoulder, giving you the chance to step back and away from him. The other man was tall and lanky, spindly in the way where he looked out of place for a high school. His blue eyes caught sight of you, smirk contorting the bridge of his nose and baring his teeth. “Fuck you doin’ with this thing?”

“What d’you want.” Miles diverted attention from you quick, his companion not getting the hint.

“Fuck, nevermind man,” The man sent a sleezy smile at you, looking you up and down slowly, a short whistle under his breath.

“Shut the fuck up, James.”

You glared are the taller man, something like bile clawing at your throat. The way he was talking about you was sickening, nothing more than a bothersome rodent.

Miles glanced at you, raising a brow, he wanted to see how long it would take before you’d finally fight back. Through the months you’d been at this school, not once had you actually lost your nerve.

On worse days, like this one, you gave him attitude. Snapping at him the moment he showed up, knowing if you didn’t, he’d take the chance too first. He looked forward to those days, where you would engage him. It sent some sick thrill through him. Watching the way your eyes unfocused, urging yourself not to roll them. How your composure surely chipped but never cracked, fingernails digging prints of a fine line when dug into your palms.

He watched your breathing stutter and counted your breaths with you, he’d basically memorised the pattern.

10 beats in, hold for 8, and 12 beats out.

Though, this was only on a good (bad?) day. Other days you just stood and took it. Letting him say whatever he wanted to you, talk shit right to your face. Spread rumours without repercussions and mess with you just because he had the urge.

And just like always. Through the heat of Summer and the full ache in your head, you managed to do nothing.

Just stand and stare as James acted like you were less to a piece of meat.

Miles scowled, dropping his shoulder and causing the man to fall from leaning on him. “Omf— Hey! What the fuck, dude.”

“Let’s go.”

James scoffed, rolling his eyes but following behind nonetheless.

“Miles, what was that shit about?”

“None of your fucking business, homeboy.”

Their voices faded as they walked away, the white noise of chattering people swallowing the scraping of James’s voice.

You wondered what Miles had really wanted this time, as he hadn’t gotten the chance to say anything with James showing up. You hate to thank him, but god. You might’ve lost your mind.

—

Four months in and you were losing your mind. Miles hadn’t stopped, neither had his determination. He seemed so eager to piss you off and do nothing but stare coldly as you composed yourself every time.

Just as that thought brimmed in your head, something kicked out in front of you, sending you flat on your stomach. Hands pressed into the hardwood of the gym below. You groaned, knees being knocked straight to the ground, landing with your arms outstretched in front of you. At least it wasn’t your face.

A voice was heard behind you and you froze, unsure what to do at that moment.

“Get up, [Name].”

James.

“Yeah, I’m—“ You shuffled back onto your feet. Standing up cautiously and checking your uniform was in place.

“Shut the fuck up.” He interrupted you, and you turned around slowly to face him. “Ever since I made it clear how little you were fucking worth, that dipshit Miles has been a fuckin’ dog to me.” He spat at you, the anger rising in his voice, he gripped the polo shirt you wore, dragging your limp upper half closer to his.

You shivered at his breath on your face, wanting to gag.

“Sorry.”

“You’re a fucking freak—.” His group of even more childish people were standing behind him like some sort of team work movement.

“Please let go.”

“I’ll fucking gut you. I needed that motherfucker—,” “Woah.” “,—He’s lucky I don’t beat his ass for ditching me.” Seems like attachment issues. “And you too, cunt. I’ll end your fucking life.”

He pulled you ever closer, using his height to intimidate you, six foot four of an angry man standing over you, no thanks.

A whistle was heard from the main room of the Gym, prompting James to let go of you.

“You’re lucky you’re a looker, call it pretty privilege.”

“..”

“Next time I’ll fucking kill you.”

You dropped from where you had been dragged onto your toes, stumbling a little as James’s group snickered when they walked past, bumping your shoulder and wolf whistling.

—

The lesson ended, and you rushed to get out of there. Making your way to the locker room, and being the first in there, also the first to leave. Changing from your sports uniform and rushing out of the Gym.

You kept looking over your shoulder, Knowing that James wasn’t lying. He probably would kill you, or, objectively worse.

You tripped over your feet before righting yourself again. People around sent curious looks to you which you ignored easily.

Getting to the front of the school, glass double doors shut with a “locked” sign on it, you continued to shoulder forward. Ignoring the shout of the office lady, you pushed against the metal bar and opened the door. You’d already known about the doors being unlocked constantly, having seen many times teachers trying to check no one was watching before slyly slipping out. So when the door opened for you with no trouble, you breathed out quick, and booked it.

You praised yourself for the amount of cardio you could do, the school was three stories for goodness sake, the amount of stairs you needed to climb was insane.

You slid to the side, dodging the occasional pedestrian and making it to the main gate, another shout was heard from the front of the school and you slipped out the gate just as it opened for another teacher, thanking them as you passed.

“Thank you!” You shouted as you ran.

“You’re welcome?— Oh..”

“Kid, Get back here!”

The office lady watched you hit the end of the street and turn, no longer in her sight. She threw her hands in the air and sighed.

“I’m going to get fired.”

“No, Marlene. I’ll cover you.”

“Thanks, John.”

“Why were they running, anyway?”

“Dunno, maybe AP exam.”

—

Miles watched as James was escorted back inside the building. His scowl etched onto his hideous face. Two of their shared buddies trailed behind him, rolling their eyes at the teachers questioning them.

One of the girls in his group was pressing against him, Miles getting more agitated by the minute. His disinterest in her only seemed to fuel her infatuation more, and it was getting annoying.

The guys at his table were all laughing at some—, probably sexist joke one of them made, the ladies giggling along with them, feeding their toxic lovers the attention they so desperately want. It’s not like Miles thought he was above these people. He just was. They were scum, but the only friends he could keep. Hurt people hurt people, and all that sappy shit. So when you hurt so much, only a small portion of people can stand you, and you them.

But when your name was mentioned, he perked up significantly — his ears fine tuning to the conversation. Completely forgetting about the raven-haired girl pressing against him, and focusing on the words spat by James and his two huevos.

“She’s hot though—,”

“Fuckin’ cares ‘f she is? Woulda beat her ass.”

“[Name]?”

“Yeah, [Name]. Miles got all fuckin’ sissy I thought she was hot, and now we don’t talk.”

“So?”

“So—!? Now I lost my chance with Imogen, she’s all fuckin’ over him cause I’m gone.”

Right, Imogen was her name.

“You want to beat her up over you losing a bitch? Just bag her instead?”

James rolled his eyes, debating it. Miles tensed, his relaxed posture straightened quickly, causing him to almost knock Imogen in the face. Too which she squealed at. An awful noise, really.

He quickly stood, chair falling behind him with a loud clang, and strode out of the hall, Glaring at James the entire time. His two friends laughed James’s sudden hesitance to respond, knowing how piss scared he was of Miles.

James stayed silent until the doors to the cafeteria closed, and the whispers started up. Then told his buddies off in a harsh tone.

No one had ever seen Miles do anything too bad. But with the amount of times he’s shown up to school with a busted nose and smug aura, you could tell—, whatever fight he’d had.

He’d won.

—

To say that Miles wanted to have the day away from school, probably wasn’t true. With the stuff he’d heard James and his dogs speil, he’d rather you not be alone.

He was—, worried.

But when his Uncle Aaron called him in for something urgent right at 4 AM, telling his Ma it was a work emergency, he couldn’t refuse his Uncle. He fit his mask onto him, faceplates slotting closed. Claws being turned and clicked into place, he flexed his hands, dragging the window of his room open in the early morning, and left with his Momma sound asleep.

—

The peace and quiet of the day had been rather disturbing. Not having Miles or any of his groupies bother you—. Was off, not unwelcome, but odd.

So when the bell rang for your fourth class, everyone heading from their lunch break back to their assigned classes, it was only by nature you’d be pulled into deserted corner of the school by some unknown figure. A hand placed over your mouth and the other gripping your wrist, pulling you back.

You struggled against the mystery person, a sickeningly familiar voice croaking in your ear.

“Be—,” You kicked your head back, knocking his jaw. “,—Fuckin’ bitch, be quiet.”

Your foot slipped under you, bringing him more leverage to haul you further from the light of the main hall.

You screamed through his hand, tears building behind your eyes when you heard a door unlock.

“Get in.”

“Fuckin—, Open it wider, dipshit.”

“Fuck off.”

James ripped his hand off your mouth before you could realise, pushing the middle of your back so you were forced into a dark, cold classroom.

You fell to your knees, a sense of déjà vu kicking in as you braced yourself with your hands.

Your chest heaved, James slamming the door shut.

“Keith, close those blinds.”

“Fuck are you gon’ do?”

“Beat the fuck outta her.”

—

Miles stuffed his claws somewhere in his locker, uncaring for secrecy. No one was there now, everyone having gone to class. He’d arrived fairly late, not an unusual occurrence considering his occupation, though. So the office ladies didn’t mind.

He slammed his locker shut, an image of you doing the same with a pout on your lips coming to mind. He had class with you now, sat right next to you, actually.

So he made his way towards the back block of the school, where you’d be.

—

A hit straight to your cheek sent you flying to the floor again, Mathew letting go of where he was holding you up.

“Dude your grip is shit.”

“Nod off.”

Keith muttered something about “Fucking brit..” from his seat on the prior teachers desk.

You groaned internally, eyes lolling to the closed curtains, the broken glass of the window letting in a sweet breeze. The only reprise from this entire ordeal was a broken window.

There’s some poetry in that, or something.

Blood dripped from your nose and lip. A cut on your cheek now present too. James, the creep, had rings on his thin fingers that, when used, hurt to no end.

You were picked back up by under your arms, closing your eyes in pain and hissing. You opened your eyes in time to see the small glint of metal in James’ pocket, and the wince on Keith’s face before another fist connected to your temple.

—

You weren’t there.

You had shown up to school, evident by your paper on the lecturers desk, but hadn’t shown up for the period.

And by the empty seats of James, Keith and Mathew. He could only guess what was happening right now.

Miles slammed the door to the class shut, ignoring the panicked yells of his teacher and started towards the darker parts of the school. Where no one used, a chemistry accident setting the safety board director deep in debt and a block of the school unusable.

He flung open his locker when close enough, snatching the prototype version of his claws from the locker. Small, sharp finger coverings that were something close to the claws he had for his Prowler suit. The knuckles were brassed and the wrist latch clasped easily to his skin. He slammed it shut again, not bothering with the lock, and honed in his hearing.

The walls were thin enough.

—

“Don’t you think this is a little too far?”

“Shut the fuck up, Keith.”

“Fuck you gonna do if she snitches—?”

He gripped James’s wrist, holding the knife away from both you and himself.

“—You gon’ ruin your life for this shit, man?”

“She’s been playing my fuckin’ nerves—, yeah.”

Keith gave him a bewildered look while Mathew stared on in disinterest, still holding you at a position you couldn’t right yourself.

The blood had stained your shirt now, bruising littering your face and body.

James had taken to ditching the knife.

“Fuckin—, Whatever man.”

It clattered to the ground with a large clang, the tiled floors of the science room made the echo ring in your head like the growing migraine.

“Drop ‘er.”

Keith glanced down at you, then backed off. An odd look on his face while he kicked the knife away from James, unintentionally pushing it closer to you.

He walked back to his seat.

Mathew let go, watching as you dropped to the ground and started coughing.

Choking on your own blood before you spat it out.

“You know how long i’ve been wantin’ to fucking do this?”

He raised his leg, tilting your chin up with his boot, how demeaning.

He swung back and kicked your ribs, sending you into another coughing fit while you fought the urge to throw up, tears streaming the blood dripping down your chin.

“Your family ruined my fucking life.” Another kick to your stomach, you gagged.

“Taking my dad, then my fucking girl too?”

What is this guy on about.

“Your fucking daddy couldn’t just mind his own business. Had to get involved, then you.”

A harder kick to your stomach, you clenched your abs and covered your head.

A sudden shock ran over you, a familiarity that always sat with James clicking in your mind.

James Ohnn, son of Jonathon Ohnn, a man who had a hand in the collapse of a still-in-construction Kaleidoscope that was said to bring revolutionary science to the new world. It’s framing shattered while the workers on it all went with it.

His father was the lead scientist of that Kaleidoscope, and by turn in of your dad, was promptly arrested.

“I didn’t do shit—,”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

He kicked your ribs again, and you swore you could feel them crack.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking ruined me.”

He swiped the knife again, Keith shouting something you couldn’t hear amongst the ringing in your ears.

You shut your eyes, crowding your head with your arms.

A slam broke through the muffles of your mind. Panicked voices and accusations being thrown around before a thick accent curled around your head.

Miles Morales.

“I’d get your hands off her if I were you, Homeboy.”

Miles approached slowly, checking your face while keeping his eyes on the three men.

“Fuck off, Miles.”

“No.” His head cocked to the side, eyes slanting while he assessed the situation.

“What, you gonna fight us?”

James’s voice was shaking. He’d never seen Miles looks o absolutely pissed before.

“Don’t think I can, asshole?”

“It’s three against one.”

“Realmente piensas—, sabes que, no importa.”

Miles lunged at him, Keith and Mathew shouting in tandem while you struggled to keep your eyes open. The pain working its way past your adrenaline and into your bones.

He grabbed James by the wrist, twisting it back and listening to the sickening crunch of his Lunate bone in curious satisfaction. James screamed, trying to tear his hand away from Miles. Even with his right hand pulling too, he wouldn’t budge. The metal clicked together every time James shifted, and Miles gave an extra squeeze before letting go. The force James was pulling sending him flying back, he stumbled and tripped over your feet, falling back and smashing his head on the tiles.

The other two boys scrambled for the door, running out the hallway and whining like dogs.

James groaned, rolling onto his stomach, Miles deadpanned down at him. You watched through blurry vision as Miles picked his up, sat him against the teachers desk, almost slumped against it. Grabbed his hair by his crown, slowly bringing his head forward, bending him at the waist. Before slamming his head back against the wood with a dull thud. He repeated this sick, prolonged process until James had fallen unconscious. Standing over him, then going to grab the knife laid a bit from you. You looked at him from your position, not unthankful, but still—, he was evidently a contributor.

“Don’t move.”

“Wha— Why? I have to get home.”

Miles scoffed, crouching down next to you, knife in hand. His limp wrists resting on his bent knees.

“You gonna’ go home with a cracked rib and busted face? Nah, Chiquita. Vente conmigo, yo te arreglo.”

He stuffed the pocket knife down the side of his Nikes and took off his claws, putting them in the pocket of his jacket.

He hooked his arm under your knees and upper back, cradling you bridal style before standing to his full height.

You panicked a little— “Wha—, No. Miles, put me down.”

“No.”

“Hh— Whatdyu’ mean ‘No’!?”

You hooked your hands over his shoulders and gripped him as he made his way through the back exit of the school.

“I said, I’m taking you home.”

—

You groaned in pain, shirt lifted to just under your bra line as Miles assessed the damage.

He had been joking when he said cracked rib, but there was an underlying sense of real possibility. According to him though, nothing had been enough to seriously injure you. Except the disgusting looking bruises littering yourself.

You tried to focus away from the pain. Or Miles in general, he was very distracting, the lingering attraction you had when you met thought to be squished, was bubbling up again.

He had an ice pack pressed to your skin, and if you were a tad less conscious, maybe you would’ve made a joke of how cold his hands already were. The sweltering heat doing nothing to soothe the bruising.

“Keep this here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Watch the attitude.”

You huffed a breath, laugh being painful.

“Yeah, whatever.”

You shifted yourself to alleviate some pain, and took his place holding the pack on your stomach.

He grabbed an anti-septic from the small kit he had for first aid. When he’d pulled it out earlier, you’d questioned it.

“You get injured women on your room often, Miles?”

“Nah, Just you. Usually they can take care of ‘emselves.”

You’d giggled at that, not entirely offended but more so amused he’d decided not to take offence at your jab.

His hands reaching for your face brought you back to the present. Flinching back in surprise, you watched him watch for a moment. “Chill, ma. Just gon’ put this on your cuts. Needa’ touch your face for that.”

You cringed, the twisting of your lip having you suck in a harsh breath. “Yeah—, yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“Mhmm.”

The callouses in his hands were made known the moment he touched you, spreading the cream along the cut on your brow, cheekbone and lip.

His hands were a nice contrast compared to the heat of your cheeks, and the gentleness at which he was using.

When Miles touched your face, leaning his body closer to yours, he wanted to savour the feeling. The softness of your flesh against his own, how he could trace the contour of your cheek without it being awkward. His thumb rubbed a small amount of cream onto your lip and he couldn’t look away. The sight of your blood stained skin under his blemished hands had him stuck in the moment. Unable to answer her last question.

“Miles?”

The way her lips formed around his name sent a burning heat throughout his body.

“Yeah—.”

“Is my lip okay? ‘M I gonna need stitches?”

You poured up at him and he shook his head. “No.”

“Mmh— Okay.”

You looked to the side, addressing his room and Miles watched the way your eyelashes brushed along your cheeks when you blinked.

“Okay, just this left. Gonna be a little cold.”

“Thank you.”

“No stress, Chiquita.”

He grabbed some petroleum jelly, spreading it along the cuts on your face and moisturising the wound.

He then placed adhesive bandages along the places necessary, and placed everything back into his first aid.

“Miles.”

“Yeah, Mami?”

You paused at the name, he’d been using those a lot lately.

“How’d you know to find me?”

He looked down, shuffling up next to you against the headboard. You gazed out the window, ignoring the tension that was eating at the both of you. He did too.

“Gut feeling.”

—

DAMN BABY THIS ONE GOT WILD

tags :3 @gemma42 , @denuparxoume

my gorgeous translator @kissmxcheek !!

[bellaveux]

Hello! I really loved your medic!Reader x Natasha writing! May I request some angst/comfort involving that trope where instead of Natasha usually getting injured/bruised, it’s reader? Love your writings! ❤️

easier said than done | n. romanoff

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: she didn’t want you on this mission—her only thought was keeping you safe. but despite her efforts, even she couldn’t protect you from getting hurt.

content warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, medic!reader, protective!natasha, injured!reader, injuries, blood (idk what else i’m missing tbh)

word count: 7.4k

Natasha sat at her desk, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of a dossier Fury had handed her earlier that day. The mission briefing was all there in black and white—an overseas operation, something high-stakes and unpredictable. Fury had been clear about the potential dangers, but he had also given her an option: take one other agent, someone to fill in for the things Natasha didn’t specialize in… someone to feed her information in her ear, while also being there for support of any kind. A medic or a recon specialist, someone who could handle the things that might slip through the cracks.

She’d nodded at the time, but in her mind, she already knew she preferred to work alone.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t rely on others, but this mission was dangerous, even for someone with her experience. Too many variables, too much at stake. The idea of taking someone else into that kind of danger made her skin crawl. She’d seen too many good people go down because of decisions like that.

When you walked into the living room, stretching from your long day, your eyes immediately landed on the file in her hands. You didn’t ask, but the curiosity was there, written in the way you tilted your head, waiting for Natasha to explain.

She glanced up, her expression softening when she saw you, “Fury’s given me a new assignment. Overseas.”

You stepped closer, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe, “Sounds serious.”

“It is,” Natasha admitted, her voice low. “He recommended I take someone with me.”

You straightened at that, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, “Oh yeah? Who’d he have in mind?”

“Recon specialist, maybe a medic,” Natasha said, almost offhandedly, her eyes flickering back to the folder in her hands. “Someone who can handle the things from afar. Support. Backup.”

You could feel the tension in her voice, the way her shoulders were stiff even as she tried to keep things casual. And before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“I’ll go.”

Natasha’s head shot up immediately, her green eyes locking with yours, a flicker of surprise crossing her features, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” You pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer, your voice steady. “You said you need someone with a different skill set. I’m a medic, Nat. I can help.”

Natasha’s expression hardened, her jaw clenching slightly. “I don’t need your help with this.”

“That’s not what Fury thinks,” you said, your tone light, but the determination was unmistakable. “He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t think you’d need backup.”

Natasha shook her head, standing up and tossing the file onto the desk with a sigh, “It’s too dangerous. You’re not coming.”

You could see the conflict in her eyes, the way she tried to keep her voice firm, but there was something deeper there—something protective, maybe even fearful. It wasn’t often that she let herself care about someone this deeply, but you’d been around long enough to know when she was trying to push you away to keep you safe.

“Natasha,” you said, your voice softening as you moved closer, closing the distance between you. “I’ve been through dangerous before. I know how to handle myself.”

“This is different,” she snapped, her frustration spilling over as she turned to face you fully. “I’m not putting you in that kind of danger.”

“I’m already in danger every day,” you reminded her gently. “This is my job too.”

Natasha’s eyes flashed with something raw and vulnerable for just a moment before she blinked it away. “You’re not going, and that’s final.”

She turned away from you, her fingers running through her hair, trying to shake off the image of you in harm’s way. The thought of you getting hurt—of losing you because she let you come on this mission—it was unbearable.

For a long moment, the room was quiet, the tension hanging thick in the air. You stood there, watching her, feeling the weight of her refusal. But you weren’t about to let it go.

“I want to go,” you said again, your voice firmer this time. “Not because I think you need me, but because I don’t want you to do this alone. And I know how stubborn you are about working alone.”

Natasha sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as she leaned against the desk. She was silent for a moment, her eyes avoiding yours. Finally, she looked up, her expression softening, but her resolve still unshaken.

“I can’t,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t let you come with me.”

You could feel the frustration bubbling up inside you, but you knew where it was coming from. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust you. She just cared too much. You hated that she was pushing you away to protect you, but you also understood it.

It was only a couple nights later, a few days before Natasha leaves for the mission. She still hasn’t found anyone to bring yet, even though you’ve been insisting from time to time.

And you told yourself you wouldn’t do it.

The moment Natasha left the apartment today, her quiet warning still fresh in your mind, you promised you’d leave the files alone. But as soon as the door clicked shut behind her, the silence that followed only seemed to amplify the curiosity burning inside you. The mission folder sat on the desk like a weight, drawing your eyes back to it over and over. Natasha had left it out, maybe even on purpose, part of you thought. Surely she knew you couldn’t resist. You tried to ignore it, busying yourself with the mundane—cleaning up the kitchen, scrolling through your phone—but each time you passed by that desk, it was like the file was calling your name, daring you to take a look.

After what felt like hours but was only minutes, you finally gave in, your resolve crumbling as you stepped closer. Your fingers hesitated at the corner of the folder, heart pounding with the knowledge that this was something Natasha wouldn’t want you to see. But the temptation was too strong. You opened the file slowly, the pages revealing details you weren’t supposed to know—dangerous places, unfamiliar faces, and risks that Natasha had shielded you from. Yet the more you read, the more it felt like you needed to.

It was late, the dim light from the desk lamp casting a soft glow over the apartment as you sat there, quietly flipping through the pages of the mission file. You weren’t snooping, not really—you’d seen enough missions come and go that this one didn’t feel all that different. But as you read through the details, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you could help, even if Natasha couldn’t see it yet.

The front door creaked open, and you heard her footsteps before you saw her—Natasha moving with that quiet, graceful presence she always had. You didn’t look up right away, not until she walked over, her boots light on the hardwood floor, stopping just behind you.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and a moment later, her hand reached out, gently closing the file in front of you.

“You really shouldn’t be reading that,” Natasha murmured, her voice laced with both affection and exasperation.

You glanced up, meeting her eyes, unfazed by the gentle reprimand, “I know, but… I can do it, Natasha.”

She shook her head slightly, her eyes softening, but you could still see the resistance there. She hadn’t budged on her decision from the last time you asked.

“I don’t want you anywhere near this one,” she said quietly, pulling the file closer to herself as if to protect you from the mere sight of it. “It’s too dangerous.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions rising in your chest, “It’s nothing I haven’t done before, Nat. I’ve handled things like this.”

Her lips pressed together, and she moved to sit beside you on the couch, the file now forgotten. You turned to face her, determination shining in your eyes.

“I’m not asking to be on the ground,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “I’ll be your mission control. You won’t even have to worry about me being anywhere near the danger. I’ll keep an eye on you from afar, talk to you through the earpiece—just like you’ve done a million times with other agents. I can do that for you. And in case you get hurt, I’ll be there to fix you up. I’m was a field medic, Nat, I’m not new to this.”

Natasha looked at you, her gaze intense as she processed your words. You could see the hesitation in her eyes, the way she wanted to say no again but couldn’t bring herself to dismiss you entirely. There was a weight in the air, the acknowledgment that you knew what you were doing, that you could handle this. But for Natasha, it was never about doubting your capabilities—it was about her unwillingness to risk losing you.

Her hand found yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I don’t want you in this mess,” she whispered, her voice low. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” you said, squeezing her hand gently. “I’ll be in the safest place possible. You won’t even see me.”

Natasha let out a long, tired breath, her eyes searching yours, torn between her instinct to protect you and the knowledge that you were just as stubborn as she was. You could see it in her face, the way her shoulders slumped slightly, how much she hated the thought of dragging you into something that could go so wrong. But you could also see her trust in you—the faith she had that you could do this, that you were strong enough.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she nodded, just slightly. “Okay,” she murmured. “But you stay back. And you listen to everything I say, no arguments.”

You smiled softly, relief washing over you as you nodded in agreement, “Deal.”

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, her fingers still intertwined with yours, “I mean it. No heroics.”

“No heroics,” you echoed, leaning into her touch.

Natasha knew, without a shadow of doubt, that you were more than qualified for the job. You were smart—one of the sharpest minds she had ever encountered when it came to recon, able to analyze a situation and strategize with precision that even impressed top agents. And when it came to field medicine, you were nothing short of remarkable. She’d seen you in action, watched the way your hands worked with a steady calm under pressure, saving lives in the most chaotic of circumstances. You weren’t just capable—you were essential.

But even with all that knowledge, Natasha couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that gripped her whenever she thought about you in the field. It was irrational, she knew, to let her mind wander to worst-case scenarios. But the idea of you getting hurt—of you lying on the ground, injured, or worse—tore through her like nothing else could. She had seen too many good people taken out by the dangers she faced every day, and the thought of you being one of them made her chest tighten painfully. Natasha could handle her own pain, her own injuries, but the idea of you being in harm’s way, of her losing you to the unpredictability of a mission, was something she could barely stomach.

She thought about how she’d be relentless in making sure you were nowhere near the line of fire when the mission starts. She’d double-check everything—triple-check, even. Your position would be far from the danger zones. She’d make certain that your vantage point would offer a clear view of the mission, but also a clear escape. She knew the layouts, knew the tactics, and she’d make sure there was no chance you’d be in the crosshairs.

She could handle the risks that came with her line of work, but when it came to you, she couldn’t take any chances.

There’d be times she’d want to look back, to hear your voice in her earpiece just to know you were still safe, still there, far away from the chaos. The mission might require her focus, but nothing could pull her attention more than the thought of your safety, knowing she would do anything—absolutely anything—to protect you.

The mission had been going as smoothly as it started—almost too smoothly.

Natasha really double-checked everything. Every point of entry, every route in and out, every possible variable that could go wrong. She had gone over it again and again in her mind, ensuring that you were far enough away, safely tucked in the quinjet, monitoring everything from your secure position. You had been perfect, calm and focused as you talked in her ear, feeding her intel and updates, watching the scene unfold from the distant safety of the control panels. She had felt reassured hearing your steady voice, knowing you were safe.

But then, something shifted. It was subtle at first, a disturbance she hadn’t noticed right away. Until she heard your voice, clipped with tension in her ear. “Nat… something’s wrong.”

Natasha froze, her heart skipping a beat. She immediately checked her surroundings, her hand instinctively tightening around her weapon as she scanned the perimeter.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice tight, trying to stay calm, but she could hear the urgency in her own tone.

There was static for a second, and then your voice again, strained. “I think… I think there’s movement here. I don’t know how—”

Her blood ran cold. Someone had slipped past. Despite all her precautions, someone had found you.

Natasha’s heart nearly stopped at the sound of your voice cutting out. Panic clawed at her chest as she frantically shoved the data she’d been extracting into her pocket. Without wasting a second, she took off in a dead sprint, her breath coming hard and fast as she darted through the corridors. Her mind was overflowing, thoughts racing at an uncontrollable speed. All her meticulous planning, her assurances to herself that you’d be safe—none of it mattered now.

The only thing that mattered was getting to you.

She could still hear faint shuffling in her earpiece, the sound of you moving, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t close enough, and it wasn’t fast enough. Her gut twisted, every second feeling like a lifetime as she pushed herself harder, faster. Her boots hit the ground in a steady, desperate rhythm, but all she could focus on was the silence that followed. Suddenly, the shuffling stopped. Everything went quiet.

Too quiet.

Her heart pounded louder, panic rising to her throat, threatening to choke her. She felt the dread crawling up her spine as she ran faster than she thought possible. The quinjet was just ahead. She had to get to you—had to make sure you were okay.

Because she couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

Natasha reached the quinjet only just a minute later, her muscles burning from the sprint, but she barely noticed the pain. One guard stood just outside the entrance, his stance stiff as he surveyed the area. She huffed, and without wasting a second, she grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the side of the jet, knocking him out cold. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, and she barely spared him a glance, her focus entirely on you.

The door to the jet creaked open, and Natasha entered, her senses on high alert. The air was thick, and every step felt heavy as she cautiously made her way through the dim space. Her heart hammered in her chest, her grip tight around her gun. There were two guards already down on the floor, their bodies lifeless. Her instincts kicked in—something had gone wrong, but you’d clearly fought back. Her eyes scanned the interior, her breath catching in her throat. Where were you? She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread settling deep in her stomach, her gaze darting from shadow to shadow, searching, praying to find you.

“Y/N?” she called out, her voice low but urgent, her pulse a wild drumbeat in her ears. No response. She swallowed hard, her body tense as she moved further into the quinjet.

Then, in the far corner, she saw you—crumpled on the floor, unmoving and her world stopped.

Natasha rushed over, dropping to her knees beside you, hands shaking as they hovered over your body. Bruises lined your skin, and a cut on your temple trickled with blood. She cursed under her breath, her mind reeling. She gently lifted your head, cradling you in her arms, her fingers brushing your cheek.

“Hey, I’m here… I’m here.”But her voice wavered, barely above a whisper.

Your vision was hazy, the world coming back into focus in slow, fractured pieces. The first thing you saw was Natasha, her face hovering above yours, panic and relief etched into her face. Her demeanor cracked, and you could see the raw emotion she was holding back. Everything around you felt heavier than it should, the throbbing ache in your body making it hard to move, let alone breathe properly. Despite it all, you found yourself offering her a faint smile, though it hurt to even do that.

“You… should see the other guy,” you mumbled, your voice barely more than a whisper, but still carrying that familiar spark of humor.

Natasha’s reaction was immediate—her breath hitched, and her expression tightened, the tiniest hint of a smile flickering on her lips, though it didn’t last long. She let out a slow, controlled exhale as if grounding herself, before reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. Her touch was gentle, but there was a kind of desperation in the way her fingers lingered against your skin, as if she needed the reassurance that you were still there, still breathing.

“Shut up,” she muttered, her voice low and trembling, though she tried to hide it. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Her eyes told the rest of the story—wide, frightened, filled with emotions you rarely saw on her face. She was always the composed one, the one who could handle anything. But seeing you like this, bruised and bloodied on the floor, had torn through that facade. Even in your hazy state, you could see how much it pained her.

You tried to reach for her hand, but your muscles protested, and the exhaustion weighed you down. The smile you gave her wasn’t much, but it was all you had, an attempt to reassure her even when your body was screaming. You didn’t need to say it, though—she could read you like a book. Her hand stayed on your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your skin, and you could feel the way her tension eased, just a little, as she realized you were still here, still with her.

Natasha hooked her arms under yours, her movements careful but swift as she pulled you to your feet. You gritted your teeth, biting back the groan that wanted to escape as your muscles screamed in protest. Even though the pain clouded your mind, you couldn’t help but notice how gentle she was being—her touch sure, but far softer than it ever was in the field. She practically carried you over to the nearest seat, easing you down with a tenderness that didn’t quite match the sharp intensity still flickering in her eyes.

“I’ll be back,” she murmured, her voice low, calming. She took a moment to make sure you were comfortable before stepping away.

The sound of the bodies being dragged echoed faintly through the jet, but you could barely register it, your eyes growing heavier by the second. Through the haze of exhaustion, you heard the door open, then close with a sharp hiss as Natasha disposed of the enemies who had nearly cost you everything. The quiet hum of the jet followed, and the subtle shift of it lifting into the air was oddly soothing. When she returned, she already had the autopilot engaged, her every move precise and calculated, even in her rush.

But she was barely focused on the instrument panel when she heard it—a soft whisper, fragile as glass, cutting through the hum of the engines. “Natasha?”

Her heart skipped, and without a moment’s hesitation, she turned, making her way back to you quickly. You were trying to hold yourself together, but she could see the strain in your eyes. Your face was pale, and the resolve that usually radiated from you seemed to flicker like a candle about to go out.

“What is it, detka?” Natasha asked, kneeling beside you, her tone urgent but laced with a tenderness that broke through the tension.

You hesitated, biting your lip as you summoned the courage to reveal what you had hidden beneath your shirt. Slowly, you moved your arm from your abdomen, exposing the wound—a seemingly deep, angry cut that glistened with fresh blood, the fabric of your suit stained around it. The sight sent a cold wave of dread crashing over Natasha, and she cursed under her breath.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded, her voice sharp, but it was laced frustration. “You should have told me!”

You offered a small, calm smile, even as your breath hitched slightly from the pain. “I didn’t want to worry you. I thought I could handle it. It’s not… it’s not deep.”

Your words were steady, yet Natasha could hear the tremor that betrayed your nerves, the way your eyes betrayed the battle you were fighting within.

But the adrenaline was fading, and she could see the weariness creeping in. Natasha instinctively leaned closer, her hand moving to assess the wound more closely. “You’ve got to tell me everything, alright? How bad is it?”

You nodded slowly, wincing a little as she touched around the edges of the wound. “It hurts, but I’ll be fine once we get home. Just… promise me you won’t freak out.”

“Too late for that, I think,” she replied, her voice strained. “You’re the one who’s supposed to take care of me, not the other way around.”

Natasha shook her head as she looked down at your wound. All she wanted was to keep you safe, and now, as she looked at you, vulnerability reflected back in your gaze, she was reminded of just how fragile life could be.

She moved silently, her frustration simmering beneath the surface as she carefully guided you toward the stretcher bed in the back of the quinjet. She didn’t say a word, but you could see it—the tense set of her shoulders, the firm grip of her hands as they steadied you, the subtle clench of her jaw as she helped you lie down. It wasn’t anger directed at you, it never could be; it was the helplessness that gnawed at her, the fact that she couldn’t prevent this. She’d done everything to keep you safe, double-checking every detail of the mission, ensuring you were far from the fray, yet somehow danger had still reached you. Her eyes flicked briefly to the blood-stained makeshift bandage on your abdomen. She exhaled quietly through her nose, pushing down the frustration, the fear that lingered just beneath it, and focused on making sure you were comfortable, making sure you were okay.

You needed to assess the damage. With a grimace, you shifted your position, which sent a jolt of pain coursing through you, but you forced yourself to look down at the wound. The fabric of your shirt was torn, and you could see the ugly gash seeping blood, crimson staining your skin.

“It hurts,” you admitted, your brow furrowing as you took stock of what you could see. “But it’s not as bad as it looks. I don’t think it hit anything vital.” You swallowed hard, fighting the dizziness creeping in.

Natasha looked over you, watching as you pressed on it to keep the pressure. “Are you sure?” she asked, her tone laced with concern, her green eyes darkening as they studied your face for any sign of distress.

“Yeah,” you continued, the rush of your training and instincts taking over. You looked into her eyes, your voice steady despite the pain radiating through you, “There’s a lot of blood, but I can handle it. Just get me the first aid kit from the storage compartment. I need a sterile dressing. And keep applying pressure on the wound.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice now focused and clear as she sprang into action.

She moved fast, opening the storage compartment with deft fingers, her movements sharp and precise, as if she was preparing for a mission rather than tending to you.

You pressed your palm against the wound, feeling the warmth of your blood seeping through your fingers, a steady reminder of how close you had come to something much worse. She moved quickly, her hands steady as she helped you apply the sterile dressing, her focus narrowing to the wound and the task at hand. Every motion was deliberate, practiced, as if she could will the injury to heal faster by sheer concentration alone. You could see the intensity in her eyes as she pressed the bandage into place, holding it with just the right amount of pressure.

“If the bleeding doesn’t stop, we might have to close it here,” you murmured, your voice softer than usual, but calm.

Natasha’s gaze flickered up at you for a brief second, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t like that idea, you could tell, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded, her hands never leaving the dressing, fingers still firm but gentle.

“It’ll stop,” she said quietly, more to herself than to you.

There was no room for anything else in her mind right now. The idea of stitching you up herself with nothing but a first aid kit—it made her stomach turn. But if it came to that, she would do it. No hesitation. You mattered more than anything else.

But after what felt like an eternity, the bleeding still hadn’t slowed enough. Natasha could see the red seeping through the dressing, staining her hands as she pressed down, her jaw clenched. You shifted slightly, wincing, and she knew it was time.

“Nat,” you said softly, your voice strained but steady. “We have to stitch it… Headquarters is too far… and I haven’t stopped bleeding yet.”

Her heart dropped at your words, though she didn’t let it show. She looked at you, her eyes meeting yours for a long moment, searching for any sign that you were exaggerating, but of course, you weren’t. You were right. She knew you were right, and it frustrated her, the fact that you were in this situation in the first place. She hated seeing you like this—hurt, bleeding, vulnerable. And yet, you were the calm one, the one keeping it together, while she was unraveling inside.

“Okay,” she finally said, her voice rougher than usual. “I’ll do it. Just—just hold on.”

She didn’t wait for you to respond before reaching for the first aid kit again. Natasha had stitched up wounds countless times before, but as looked at you, needle and thread in hand, her fingers trembled. The thought of piercing your skin, of causing you more pain—even if it was necessary—made her stomach twist. She’d done this under fire, in the middle of chaos, but doing it to you? That was different. The stakes felt impossibly high.

You noticed, of course. You always did. Your hand moved to brush against hers, your voice soft but steady despite the pain you were clearly in.

“Nat… it’s okay,” you murmured, your eyes catching hers. “I trust you.”

She paused, swallowing hard as she glanced up at you. The calm in your voice did something to her—grounded her in a way nothing else could. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and gave a small nod, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer.

“Okay,” Natasha said, her voice quiet but firmer now. “I’ll make it quick.”

And with that, she focused, her hands moving with care, the weight of your trust making her steady. She might have been nervous, but you didn’t waver. You stayed calm, and in that calm, she found her own strength.

As she’s started the first stitch, she could see the way your body tensed, the way your breath hitched for just a second before you steadied it. You were doing everything in your power to hide the pain, to keep your face as calm as possible, but Natasha knew. She could see the flicker of discomfort in your eyes, the tight grip you had on the edge of the stretcher. Every wince, no matter how small, sent a pang of guilt through her.

“Sorry, detka,” she muttered softly, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes never leaving the wound as she worked. The thread pulled through your skin again, and you flinched, just a little.

You didn’t say anything, didn’t complain, but she felt it. She always did. Each time her hands moved, she muttered another quiet apology as though she could somehow will the pain away with her words. She hated this—hated that you were hurt, hated that she was the one causing you more pain, even if it was to help. But you didn’t falter, not once. Even through the pain, you stayed steady, biting back the grimaces that Natasha could still see in the tension of your jaw. But no matter how much you tried to hide it, she knew. She always knew.

Natasha finished the last stitch with steady hands, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. She was careful, every move precise, making sure not to hurt you more than necessary. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her focus unwavering even though you could feel the slight tremble in her touch. She didn’t speak much, only the occasional soft apology whenever she noticed you wince.

When she finally tied off the last stitch, she sighed, the tension in her body visibly easing as she put down the needle. Her fingers lingered briefly on your skin, as if to reassure herself that the worst was over. You had been watching her the entire time, admiring how focused she was, how even in a moment like this, she was careful, deliberate. When she sighed, you let your gaze fall down to the stitched wound, and after a moment, you gave a small nod of approval.

“It looks good,” you said softly, your voice a little hoarse but steady. You traced the line of stitches gently, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “Very neat stitching.”

Natasha glanced up at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, though the worry in her eyes hadn’t fully faded.

“Yeah?” she murmured, as if seeking your approval mattered more to her than anything else. You could see the relief start to ease its way into her expression, but there was still that underlying fear, the worry that she hadn’t done enough

She carefully bandaged the area, her hands gentle, wrapping the wound with methodical movements. She moved almost automatically, but her mind was racing, simmering with frustration. She checked everything, gone over the plan a hundred times in her head, ensuring you would be far from any danger, out of harm’s way. But still, somehow, here you were, injured under her watch.

As she finished securing the bandage, Natasha finally looked at you, her eyes searching your face, and that tight knot of anger coiled inside her chest. She hated that you had gotten hurt, hated herself even more for letting it happen, for not protecting you the way she promised she would. The frustration sat heavy on her shoulders, but she swallowed it down.

“Did you get it?” your voice breaks through the silence, soft but curious

Natasha, still focused on the bandage she’s securing, doesn’t quite register your words at first. Her eyes flick up, briefly distracted

“What?” she murmurs, blinking as if she’s coming back to the moment.

“The data. For the mission,” you repeat gently, watching her.

For a second, her expression falters, the steely resolve she’s worn for the past hour cracking just slightly. She realizes where her mind had gone—far away from the mission and its objective, and entirely on you. You, lying there, hurt and vulnerable, a sight she never wanted to see. Her throat tightens as the weight of everything presses down on her, but she pushes it aside, slipping back into the role she knows best.

“Yeah,” she finally says, her voice low and steady. “I got it.”

But there’s something else in her eyes, something she doesn’t say. But after a moment of silence, feeling the weight of her frustration, Natasha finally mutters under her breath—a sentence she didn’t mean to slip out so easily in front of you.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Her voice is low, tinged with an edge she can’t quite hide, and the moment it slips out, she almost regrets it. But the frustration is real, bubbling under her skin—anger at the situation, at herself for letting this happen, at the fact that no matter how much she tries to protect you, she can’t shield you from everything.

You shift slightly, eyes flicking away from her as if the words hit harder than you’d expected. There’s a beat of silence before you respond, quieter now, a trace of something resigned in your tone.

“I felt like you were going to say that.”

It stings, that simple acknowledgment, because you’re not wrong. Natasha knows you wanted to help, that you’re just as capable as anyone on the field, if not more. But seeing you here now, hurt, is enough to make her want to pull you away from all of it. The mission, the danger—all of it. She clenches her jaw, fighting the instinct to apologize, but the words sit heavy between you.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to go.”

Her voice is firm now, but there’s a tension behind it, like she’s holding back more than she’s letting on. She keeps her eyes on you, though you’re still looking away, refusing to meet her gaze.

The fear that this would happen had been gnawing at her the entire time. Every time she heard your voice crackle through the earpiece, every second she knew you were out there, not as far from danger as she’d hoped—it all led up to this. She warned you, she didn’t want you there, not because she doubted your abilities but because of this.

And now, with the bandages wrapped around your abdomen, the sting of her words feels as sharp as the wound itself. There’s a tremor in the silence that follows, the heaviness of what she’s not saying. The real reason—the fear that seeing you hurt like this brings something out in her that she’s not sure she can control.

“It was going fine, Natasha,” you told her firmly.

“Yeah, until it didn’t,” Natasha snaps, her voice taut with barely-contained frustration. She’s pacing now, her fists clenched at her sides, the image of you lying there, bleeding, still too fresh in her mind. “It could’ve been worse, (Y/n). You could’ve been…”

She stops herself, the words catching in her throat, her chest tightening painfully at the thought.

The rest of her sentence hangs in the air, unfinished but heavy with the meaning she can’t bring herself to say out loud. Dead. She can’t even imagine it. The very thought of you being taken from her like that is unbearable, and she feels it—this overwhelming surge of something she can’t control. Her hands tremble just slightly as she forces herself to stop pacing, to breathe.

She turns back to you, her eyes softening despite the anger and fear still swirling beneath her skin. But the image of you, bruised and bleeding, is burned into her mind now. It’s not something she can easily shake.

A sigh leaves her lips once more, quieter this time, the tension in her body slowly ebbing away as she moves closer to you. Her hand reaches out almost instinctively, wrapping gently around yours. For a moment, she just stares at your intertwined fingers, tracing the familiar curve of your palm, as if memorizing the way your hand fits so perfectly with hers.

“I can’t…” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with something raw, “I can’t see you like that… I don’t…”

Her breath catches, and she struggles to find the right words, the vulnerability pressing against her ribs, making her feel exposed in a way she’s not used to.

“I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened to you.”

She says it shyly, almost as if she’s embarrassed by how much she cares, how deeply this fear has lodged itself inside of her. Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, searching your face as if she’s trying to speak with her eyes the full weight of her feelings without having to say any more. Because Natasha isn’t used to feeling like this—this scared, this helpless—and it unnerves her. The thought of losing you, of not being able to protect you, is something she doesn’t know how to handle.

“Natasha, look at me,” you say softly, your voice gentle but firm.

She doesn’t, at first. Her gaze is still fixed on your hands, her thumb brushing over your skin in slow, distracted circles, as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of your skin.

“Baby,” you whisper again, a little more insistent, “look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, her eyes lift. There’s a hint of chaos behind them—worry, fear, and something so deeply rooted it makes your heart ache just to see it. She’s silent, but her eyes are pleading, as if asking you to make sense of the turmoil she’s been carrying since the moment things went wrong on the mission.

“I’m right here,” you tell her, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words land heavily between you. “I’m okay.”

You lift your free hand to her cheek, brushing your thumb along her jawline, trying to soothe away the tension that’s crept into every inch of her.

“I’m safe.”

She exhales shakily, leaning into your touch, her eyes still clouded with uncertainty. But she doesn’t pull away. Instead, her grip on your hand tightens, as if she’s afraid that letting go might somehow make you disappear.

“I can’t lose you,” Natasha whispers, her voice so quiet, it almost disappears into the air between you. Her eyes, usually so strong and composed, glisten, and for a moment, you think she might actually cry. It’s rare to see her like this—so vulnerable, so afraid.

Without hesitation, you squeeze her hand, pulling her closer. “You didn’t,” you say quickly, your voice gentle but firm, trying to anchor her back to reality. “You didn’t lose me.”

She doesn’t respond at first, her gaze flicking between your face and the wound she’s just tended to, as if she’s still grappling with the thought of how close it all came. Her breath is uneven, a quiet tremor of emotion she’s struggling to keep inside.

You reach up and cradle her face in both hands, forcing her to meet your eyes. “Look at me,” you say, your voice soft but commanding. “I’m right here.”

Natasha doesn’t say anything at first. She just stares at you, her eyes searching yours like she’s still trying to convince herself you’re really there, alive and breathing. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she nods. Her eyes flutter shut, as if closing them will somehow block out all the fear and frustration inside her. She takes your hand, gently lifting it to her lips, and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. Her breath is warm, lingering over your skin, and she doesn’t stop with just one kiss. Another follows, and then another, her lips brushing tenderly across the back of your hand as if the contact itself is a way of reassuring herself that you’re still with her.

Each kiss was slow, filled with the kind of affection that makes your heart ache. You feel the tension in her shoulders start to ease, her breathing evening out. When she finally pulls back, her fingers trace over the spot she’s just kissed, her touch light but lingering. She looks at you again, her expression softer now, as if she’s starting to believe that you’re really okay.

“I’m guessing this means that I can’t go on any more missions with you,” you say with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

A small, breathy laugh escapes her mouth, though it’s more of a huff, and the corner of her lips quirk up just a little.

“You think?” she mutters, but there’s no real bite to it. The tension from earlier hasn’t fully faded, but the way you joke, the way you try to make light of the situation—she can’t help but let a bit of the weight lift off her chest.

She shakes her head slightly, her thumb absently brushing over the back of your hand, still holding onto you like she can’t quite bring herself to let go yet.

“I should ban you from every mission,” she says, her voice softer now, almost playful, but with that familiar protective edge. “But knowing you…”

She trails off, giving you a knowing look that makes it clear how stubborn she thinks you are. You grin, despite the soreness and the lingering ache in your body.

“You know I’d find a way to convince you,” you say, tilting your head a little.

Natasha’s smile softens into something more tender as she looks at you, her green eyes holding yours.

“Yeah,” she whispers, and there’s a quiet, tired fondness in her voice now. “Yeah, you probably would… But, no more of this.”

You close your eyes for a second, feeling the warmth of her skin, “I’ll try,” you say, voice soft. It’s not quite a promise, but it’s enough for now.

“I can’t take you away from your work. It’s your job… It’s both of ours.” Her voice cuts through the air, firm and unyielding, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m just not letting you out of my sight again.”

There’s a finality in her words that makes you pause, a quiet intensity that speaks to something deeper than her usual protectiveness. Her eyes, still lingering on yours, are resolute, as if she’s already made up her mind. You can see it in the set of her jaw, the tightness in her shoulders—she’s serious. This isn’t just about the mission, or even the injury. It’s about something bigger, something she’s been holding onto for too long.

You know Natasha. You know the layers of her. How she’s always the one in control, always calculated, prepared for anything. But right now, there’s a vulnerability in her that’s hard to ignore. She’s not just saying this to keep you safe; she’s saying it because the thought of losing you is something she can’t bear, something she can’t even let herself entertain for too long without feeling like the ground is slipping out from under her.

You open your mouth to respond, to maybe crack another joke or reassure her that you’re okay, but the words catch in your throat when you see the look on her face. She’s staring at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, and it makes your heart ache a little, knowing how hard it is for her to let that kind of emotion show.

“I’m serious,” she adds, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper. Her hand tightens around yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m not losing you.”

There’s a moment of silence, heavy and filled with everything neither of you are saying. You want to protest, to tell her she doesn’t need to worry so much, but you can’t. Because you know—deep down, you know that she’s right. And maybe part of you doesn’t mind the idea of her always being there, watching over you, making sure you’re safe.

But for now, you just squeeze her hand in return, letting the weight of her words settle over you both. It’s not a conversation you need to finish right now. You’re alive, and for Natasha, that’s all that matters.

navigation | n.r masterlist

[remuslupinslittleslut]

No, like this

Anon asked: I need more of the teach me dynamic like that was so hot. The way Remus helped Sirius ate you out using his hair holy fuck that was hot. maybe it’s like Remus gets jealous cause it’s close to the full moon so he shows the boys how to properly fuck a girl and it’s super rough maybe and then James and Sirius are just there jerking off like super turned on by the scene cause wow Remus is really good at making reader be loud.

And YES! I love this dynamic and this ask was so very lovely and gave me so much inspiration THANK YOU BABE <333

Here's a very jelly remus, pre full moon, showing his friends how to fuck his girl hot damn

Masterlist. (Teach us part one. And part two. Though it can easily be read on it's own, just the same dynamics <3)

“No, you’re doing it all wrong,” Remus growled.

You were laid out on your back, James on top of you, hips moving against yours at a steady rhythm. It was good, really good. But the full moon was getting closer, and Remus was aggravated, jealous and very territorial of you.

James whined at the harsh words, and you kissed his nose telling him, “You’re doing well darling, keep going.”

He did, though not quite as confidently as before. His head came down to rest in the crook of your neck, and you felt his cheeks were heated from embarrassment. You and Remus had taught both James and Sirius a lot since your first night together, and they’d both made great progress, all the while Remus was perfectly okay with sharing you – as you also did share him with his friends.

James had just started to get it right with each thrust again – making you moan and whine, telling him what a good boy he was being – when Remus interrupted yet again.

“No, move,” he said, standing up and pushing James off of you, making all three of you gasp (Sirius wouldn’t miss this show for anything in the world), “let me show you how to fuck her properly.”

It was, to put it plainly, rude. You would have to talk to Remus about it later, that he can’t act that way with your littles, but he was so sexy, towering above you, hands tugging at his buckle, trying to free himself for you. You knew what was to come would be life changing-ly amazing, and you did not want to get in the way of Moony when he was tearing at the seams of Remus like this.

Remus was finally naked, standing next to the bed, where James still lay, “I said move.” James did, shying away, trudging toward Sirius’ bed.

“Arms above your head, darling,” he said, steadying his body above yours. You did as you were told, knowing not to argue at this moment. “See, you’ve gotta tell a slut what to do, she’s too dumb to think on her own.” This wasn’t really true – though you loved letting go of all your common sense to let Remus take full control, so you did.

He didn’t give any warning before he pushed himself into you, widening your tight little hole, taking your body from you. “Little sluts like this don’t need to be warmed up, she can take it, right love?” You nodded, knowing you hadn’t been given permission to speak.

His hips snapped against yours at a brutal pace, it almost hurt, you knew it would later, but the way the head of him pushed against your walls felt too good. While he was fucking you, he kept narrating the whole thing, “yeah, that’s right, touch your little cocks to my girl, hear that? My girl. You’ve gotta move faster, harder, like this.”

It was so hot, having your life fucked out of you by your boyfriend while your other two partners watched, touching themselves. You could finally show them the Remus you knew, the Remus who could make sure you didn’t walk straight for days – he’d been so nice and soft since you invited James and Sirius, but now he was back, with his back-arching, toe-curling, orgasm-giving sex.

You hadn’t been quiet for a while, and when your orgasm washed over you, the sounds coming from somewhere deep in your throat only got louder. “There you go, see this, this’s how you make a girl come.”

Pulling out of you, Remus kissed you once, deep and hard and dirty, before he flipped you over, pulling on your hips to make your ass stick out. Leaning down over you, he kissed down the back of your neck, biting and pulling at the skin, hard teeth scratching soft skin. “You ready, little one?” He asked, almost softly, and when you nodded your head he pulled back and pushed in, in one sweeping motion. The angle from this position was even better and you felt your eyes roll back as you dropped your head against the pillow, feeling another orgasm come creeping.

Holding himself up with one hand on the headboard, the other kept a tight hold on your hair. “Now this is how you fuck a girl real good, she won’t be able to think straight when I’m done with her, shame you’ll never be this good,” the cockiness could be heard in Remus’ voice as his hips kept pushing against yours, your ass shaking with every thrust. “Go on then, come, all over your hands from watching my girl take my cock, go ahead… You too, princess, go ahead, let go f’me…”

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered some grunting from the other bed, though most of your senses were filled with Remus, the wet sound of him thrusting in and out of you, the smell of him on the pillow, of both of your juices mixing somewhere further down on the bed, the taste of him left on your tongue, the sight of a veiny arm holding him up, the feeling of him all over you, against your back, the hands in your hair, his cock inside you, pulsating and ejaculating, filling you up with white, hot spurts of cum, the feeling of it running out of you, the wet patch on the bed between your legs.

And then… nothing.

When you woke up, it was to a hot, wet rag on your face. “Hi, love,” Remus said, kissing your forehead, hand holding your cheek still. “Welcome back, you went out for a bit, but don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you now, okay baby?”

Smiling, you reached your hands up – not a small feat, considering your arms felt like boiled spaghetti – and took a hold of his face to pull him back down to you, pressing your lips against his.

“And now this is how you perform proper aftercare, don’t ever skip that,” he said, a pointed look directed at his friends, who he was about to treat with some of the same love that you’d received.

Tagged: @remussbitch

[nonushu]

you vs. cat - chwe hansol

genre: fluff | wc: 520 | warnings: allergies | bf!vernon x reader a/n: my cat's name is jeolmi. i also found out recently that vernon (cat lover) is allergic to cats !

“vernon, are you crying?”

his brown teary eyes look up at you, still petting your cat on the floor. 

“no?” he sniffles. 

the disapproving look on your face scared no one, not even vernon. no matter how many times you tell him, he never listens, he just has to pet your cat, jeolmi. 

“babe, your eyes are kinda red,” you try reasoning. “y’know, you shouldn’t stay around her for too long, ‘cause your allergies…”

“m’fine,” he says, turning away from you to put his full attention on your cat. “plus, i can handle it.” he coos. 

the feline follows his touch, urging him to keep petting. as much as you thought it was cute and all—vernon babying your cat and somewhat ignoring you—you wonder how long he can even manage to withstand his allergies. sure, they weren’t too bad to begin with, and you know it’d be the least of his worries if it meant being able to play with jeolmi. 

“you’re so cute, mimi,” he says, cupping the cat’s face, causing yours to scrunch.

you sigh and move away from the kitchen island to the living room where vernon and jeolmi sit. even though he hears you, he doesn’t turn around to see you, which makes you pout. once behind him, you grab his hair, lightly pulling his head back so he can look up at you. 

“hey,” you grumble. “i know jeolmi is so cute and you like her and she likes you, but—”

“but what?” he says playfully while jeolmi uses her paws to place on his chest.

jeolmi makes a noise as if she is trying to get vernon’s attention back on her. you whine at this when vernon brings his head back down to make more cooing noises at her. 

you let yourself fall behind his back, wrapping your arms around his waist. you don’t see his face, but he’s smirking because he’s knowingly trying to tease you. 

“but what, babe?”

your lips pursed. “but i’m here too,” you whine again, pushing your face into his back. “and i’m cute too…” you muffle in the fabric. 

vernon lets go of jeolmi, leaving her to continue her daily routine. he turns his body with your arms still around his waist making you fall into his lap. his hands meet your waist and he pulls you closer in his embrace, giving you the same treatment as he did with jeolmi. 

“y/n, are you jealous?” he asks, hearing the dorky grin in his voice. 

you don’t answer him but your arms tightening around him tells him everything he needs to know. 

“i only love you,” he grins, that stupid dorky grin you can still hear. “just saying.”

“you mean i’m the only human you love,” you mumble. “you love my cat more than me.”

vernon snorts and you feel his stomach huff. he chuckles uncontrollably, making you sit up and stare at him in disbelief. scoffing, you turn to crawl away but he quickly hugs you again. you feel his breath come closer to your ear.

“you’re the only one i love,” he whispers, hugging you tighter.