#i have no gif skills but i will pay you in a fic

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[haetero]

all mine.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x afab!reader. WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

CW: jealous sex, mating press (hehe), unprotected sex, breeding kink!!, creampie, kind of angsty but its porn w a little bit of plot. use of high valyrian + a sprinkle of aegon bashing! mdni <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this was originally a 500 word drabble and then... i went a bit nuts.. if you enjoyed the fic, pls lmk! not proofread we die like literally everyone lol.

ABSTRACT:

aemond gets caught up with his royal duties and finds himself spending less time with his precious lady wife. determined to take matters in your hands, you make some silly choices involving another prince, which only makes things worse. till it gets better :)

this time, you think you deserved it.

what begun as a harmless jest to get aemond to pay attention to you quickly led to letting aegon drunkenly sweet talk you at supper. and yes, pretending to flirt with your husband’s brother in front of him might not have been the best decision, but you were just having fun right?

wrong.

you were perhaps the stupidest woman in all the seven kingdoms. really, there was no rationale for choosing to engage with aegon for more than ten minutes at a time and yet here you were, ‘giggling’ at his piss poor jokes and pretending to listen to his made up tales of something you couldn’t care to remember.

you could only chastise your past self for your poor decision making skills as aegon whispered into your ear, far too close to your liking. he stunk of the rich, dornish wine served earlier in the evening and his eyes lazily stared at the expanse of your chest. but regardless of whether he was drunk or not, aegon had enough wits about him to realise his brother was furious.

a sly grin on aegon’s face, he seemed to understand the predicament you were in and leaned in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, before loudly announcing his exit with a parting “my lady”, to further enrage aemond.

internally groaning, you waited till aegon left before daring to take a peek at aemond. but he wasn’t even looking at you.

the complete lack of response terrified you. in fact, you’d almost convinced yourself he didn’t care at all, until you noticed his blanching knuckles gripping his silverware. “aemond, i-," you begun.

in an instant, aemond had gotten up out of his seat and finally looked at you with a look in his eyes that only meant one thing. he mumbled out a quick excusal for the pair of you, before extending his arm towards you with a pointed stare.

you were well and truly fucked.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

before you can realise what’s happened, aemond’s dragged you to your shared chambers at a pace you’re struggling to keep up with. quickly dismissing your maids, he shuts the doors firmly, before turning his back to you and shucking off his outer clothing. you dejectedly do the same, struggling out of your dress. you leave them in a heap on the floor, stripping down till you’re in your underthings.

the sounds of aemond changing have quietened down, spurring you to take a peek at him. he’s left in his pants; his broad shoulders and back on display for you to admire. maybe he'll listen to you if you explain yourself, you delude yourself. tiptoeing over to where he stands, you attempt a sheepish half smile, grabbing onto his bare arm to direct his attention to you.

“please, i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking, i just missed you,” you start, attempting to make eye contact with aemond. he’s yet to talk to you, pointedly ignoring you. he simply stands there, jaw clenched, refusing to acknowledge you any further.

you feel stupid, really. doing all this to gain the attention of the man standing in front of you and even then, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. you wait for a few more seconds before deciding to save yourself the embarrassment. with a sigh, you turn back to your shared bed and sit yourself down.

you rush to unpin your hair, readying yourself for sleep. the dull throb of want in your stomach has you frowning but you know the only person who could satisfy you is aemond. in your distracted state, you don’t see that aemond’s turned back to face you.

“do you take me for a fool?” you freeze, not expecting that of all questions. you start to respond when he cuts you off with a glare. aemond huffs out a curse and walks over to stand in between your legs. a part of you think he looks majestic from this view, but you’re quick to silence your thoughts as he slightly lowers himself till he’s level with you.

“you missed me, so you thought it best to what? throw yourself at my brother?” the affronted look in your eyes tells aemond he’s wrong but he’s not feeling very charitable as you try to come up with right thing to say. “and you thought i’d just let him have you?”

“no! i swear, i was being childish aemond,” you try to reason with him. the longer you think about it, the faster you realise how childish you really were. but it doesn’t change your intentions. you were unsatisfied and tired. but you also hadn’t been this close to aemond without someone else being nearby in a while. the dull throbbing sensation in your cunt was starting to spread and you fought the urge to rip your underthings off and let aemond have his way with you.

“if you wanted something, all you had to do was tell me, not run off to aegon,” he muses, his right arm coming up to trace the veins in your neck. aemond can feel the way your breath stutters; he takes note of the way your lips quiver and fingers curl up slightly at his words. you not-so-subtly push your thighs together, trying to alleviate some of your lust by yourself.

a satisfied grin curls at his lips and aemond, finally, leans into the slope of your neck. you shiver at the feather-like sensation of his lips pressing into your skin, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself before he pushes you onto your back. “aemond, i need only you,” you shyly mumble, before reaching up on your elbows to undo the clasp of his eye patch.

aemond lets you do as much before throwing it behind him, fixing you with a lust-filled gaze that has you whimpering within a second. he leans over you, and makes a show out of dragging the fabric of your underthings down till he’s rid of them, throwing them to the side. you’re shaking as you watch him eye your cunt with a starving look.

calloused hands grab at the fat of your thighs, kneading the soft skin there before pushing them to your chest. you mewl as cold air fans over your wet cunt, catching the way aemond eyes your hole greedily twitching around nothing. “this is what you wanted, right?”

“yes, yes, please,” you beg. if you weren’t so desperate already, you would have gagged at the sound of your whiny tone. but aemond seems to like your desperation. aemond undoes the string of his pants, before palming himself with a squeeze that has him sighing in relief. your mouth waters at the sight before you.

aemond gives himself a moment before he climbs over you, his frame gently pushing onto your knees in the position you’re in. your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of his warmth enveloping you.

“no, look at me, ābrazȳrys,” your silver haired lover grunts, as he goes to drag his cockhead over your slit. “i should get aegon to pleasure your whorish cunt instead.”

your immediate protests brings a smug grin to aemond’s face. of course, he would never let his brother anywhere near the ethereal sight beneath him, but seeing the tortured look on your face brings him a sick sense of pride. he plays with you like this for a moment, rubbing his cockhead over and over your clit till you’re nearly crying out in want.

after what feels like a lifetime, he decides to push into you. aemond intently watches the way his cock catches at the rim of your pussy before he slams into you. your resulting gasp has aemond’s chest tightening as he loses himself to the feeling of your walls clenching around him immediately.

letting out a strangled moan of your name, he sets a brutal pace from the get-go, ploughing forward until you’re clawing at his neck and shoulders for a reprieve. you’re a quivering mess under him, a mix of moans and cries escaping you. you can feel him everywhere.

a light flush rises on aemond’s cheeks and upper chest, a pink hue that matches the fine dresses you might wear to a banquet or a tourney. your teary eyes trace the faint red lines peaking up on his broad shoulders, evidence of your passion that has your core clenching tighter around him. aemond catches your stare, mouth agape in a euphoric state of mind and pushes your knees down even further, if it was possible.

his wife, his lover, his, his, only his.

"it's okay, sweetling," he vows, fat cock bullying your walls as he moulds himself into you. he bends down to leave a path of kisses trailing down your neck, assuming a steady yet punishing pace into your sopping core. "for me, remember? you can take it for me, right?" aemond groans, drunk on the way your pussy sucks him in, eyes squeezed shut in the pleasure you both share.

leaning back, aemond watches you grip the sheets tightly, he feels the way you soak his cock every time he rocks into your pussy. you've gone half mad, tongue lolling out as you chant his name as a mindless mantra. he drags your knees down to instead wrap around his hips, bringing you closer to plant wet kisses down your neck, nipping at the salty skin. you keen into his ear at the change of position, untangling your hands from the sheets to cling tightly to aemond.

"feel good, love?" he murmurs, trailing his arm down till it lights presses onto your stomach as he drives his cock back into you. "tonight's the night i'm filling you up. that way, my fool of a brother will know to stay away from you.”

you don’t even think you’re making sense as you blabber your agreement. you want, no, you need him to give you his heir. you need him to drive himself further into you till you feel him in your chest, in your heart.

the thought of a miniature aemond targaryen running around has your heart swelling in your chest; the life you’ve always wanted but never let yourself dream of for too long. your lives were far too cruel for such a precious being to be born into it, yet aemond seems hellbent on making it come true as he bullies his cock further and further into your cunt.

aemond slows to a dangerous grind and bends down to capture your lips, his lean torso catches on your clit as you arch up into his mouth. "aemond pl-please, i want it," you whine, your hips buck as his languid thrusts reach a spot deeper than you thought possible. "you're mine," he groans into the heat of your mouth, skilled fingers come down to rub taut circles on your aching clit. he feels the telltale signs of your trembling walls and your greedy eyes beg him for release.

“fuc-fuck, nyke’m bē konīr,” aemond huffs, feeling your cunt swell around his cock as he rams deeper into you. you’re scrambling to hold onto anything; his shoulders, his wrists, the pillow, the sheets.

when you start twitching around his cock, walls fluttering at a pace aemond can't keep up with, he thinks you're the most divine creature in all the seven kingdoms.

and as you cream around his cock, aemond finds himself pushing himself into you one more time, filling you with his hot seed and the unspoken promise to cherish you for as long as you'd have him.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

high valyrian translations:

ābrazȳrys - wife. nyke’m bē konīr - i’m almost there.

[dearsnow]

TAKE A BITE

- your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you can’t manage to say no. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, random original female characters for plot purposes, ⚠️ alcohol, 18+!! adult content, p in v, jake being a sweetheart for once, I’M BEGGING PLEASE BE 18)

word count: 3,033

a/n - dipping my toe into the adult writing scene for once 😚 i have no idea if this is good or not bc my only experience is one commission i did a long time ago and a half-finished fic from a year ago, so i hope it’s satisfactory. jake is also an unexpected visitor but everyone has their moments <3

“So…” Kaiya drawls, drawing along the rim of her condensation-covered glass, “because no one here seems to want to put themselves out there,” there’s a pointed glance at you, “I propose a challenge.”

Sandy squints at her suspiciously. Kaiya always comes up with the most outrageous schemes, usually drawing in you and the rest of your friend group. “What are you thinking?” She asks.

Kaiya’s manicured nail taps on the table. “We each pick a guy, one that individual thinks is the hottest at the bar— first come first serve, of course. And then we take them home. Anyone that’s successful gets next week’s drinks paid for by the rest of us.”

You roll your eyes. She’s a looker, for sure, which is likely the only reason she proposed something like this. She could get with any guy in a hundred mile radius with her luscious black curls and babydoll cheeks. “Are you sure you aren’t just doing this because you don’t want to pay for yourself?”

Kaiya puts one hand to her mouth, eyes widened in comical horror. “I would never! I just want what’s best for my dear friends.” She exclaims, batting her eyes. Sandy laughs in her own charming way. Sandy is cute, sweet. She’d also have no problem taking her pick.

“I want that one.” Kaiya says, pointing at a tall man with shortly cropped curls. From the looks of it, he’s exactly her type; confident, quick-witted, and evidently skilled as he nails a dart throw.

Sandy pretends to squint around the bar before throwing a thumb over her freckled shoulder. “Buzz cut. I like that in a man.” You peer around her, taking in a nice-looking guy with tanned skin.

“And you?” Kaiya asks, reaching out to thumb at the strap of your top. Her small look of concern makes you remember why you’re her friend in the first place.

She’s always looking out for you, always finding opportunities for you to shine when she is so obviously the star. After you broke up with your boyfriend for some unsavory reasons, she resumed her role as your rock. Even now, she wants you to get over what’s in the past. You curse yourself for even considering that she was being selfish.

You look around the crowded bar, eyes scanning over heaps of mildly attractive Navy and civilian men. You’re about to just pick the closest one before your gaze stops on a person who almost immediately takes your breath away. He’s exactly, exactly what you pictured your dream guy to look like.

Kaiya follows your line of sight and smiles. “Let’s get them, tigers.”

“Alright,” You say, standing as your chair creaks from under you, “I’ll take a bite.”

You lean against the cool counter of the bar, smiling at the bartender. The man you picked out has a beer in his hand and a certain swagger in how he scopes out the room. “Could I have one of those, please?” You ask the woman behind the bar, looking pointedly at the guy. She looks at you with a knowing smile, handing you the drink.

“You have good taste.” Your pick says, his voice heavy with a drawl. His green eyes glance down at the drink in your hand, then up to your face. You swear you almost see him lick his lips.

“So do you.” You respond simply. “What’s your name?”

“Jake, but if one of those idiots asks, it’s Hangman.” He nods over to a group of men by the pool table. In a passing flash, you notice the two your friends picked out mingling. How could this one squad have so many attractive people? “I saw you with your friends a bit ago. I have to say, though, you’re more my type. Not that they aren’t nice girls.”

You take a sip of your drink, eyebrows quirked. His arms are basically bulging out of his Navy attire, and you struggle to keep your eyes off of them. Decidedly, you try teasing him, pushing the boundaries of flirting. “You’re my type too. More than the one with the mustache, but he’s not so bad.”

His smile crinkles his eyes, and you think you might swoon. This is good, you tell yourself. It feels good. It’s a bit awkward, with just the slightest bit of tension, but you’re warming up; you just got out of a relationship for god’s sake.

“Trust me, sugar, however good you think he is, I’m better.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink.

You’re drop dead gorgeous, he thinks. Jake meets gorgeous women every day, but not one has made his heart beat just as fast. When you smile up at him through your lashes, he’s done for. Locked, loaded, and done for.

“You’re that confident, hm?” You muse, setting your beer down on the counter. It took a great deal of complacency to not throw yourself at him and wrap yourself in his large hands. He swipes a bead of water off of your bottle, and you think all sorts of things. His fingers dripping, his face hot and sweaty, his hair messed up… you almost melt at the idea. “I think you’re going to have to prove it.”

He holds an arm out to you, and you graciously accept. “I’ll prove it in a million ways, pretty girl. Dance with me and see for yourself.”

Jake leads you to a small area by the jukebox. His palms skim over your waist, pulling you closer but still leaving you aching for more. A song starts playing, one you don’t recognize, but he seems to know exactly how to move to it.

If you’re being totally honest, he’s a really good dancer. And it’s so hot, unbearably so. He doesn’t step on your feet, and he leads your every step without being overpowering. Every song, you seem to get closer and closer until your chest is basically pressed right up against his, and he can still move gracefully.

“How’s this for proof?” He whispers, lips grazing over the shell of your ear. “Rooster’s got moves, but he isn’t half as good as me.”

You push back on his chest gently, raising your eyebrows. “Now I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get him jealous. Does mustache man get on your nerves that much?” You grin as he takes your hands in his. He rolls his eyes.

“I got the cutest girl in the room all to myself. Who wouldn’t be jealous? The only ploy here is the one where I try and get you to come home with me.”

Your teeth find purchase in your bottom lip, trying to hide your ever-growing smile. You might be getting free drinks more than once. “Buy me a drink and we’ll see how that works out.”

To his credit, Jake seems completely okay with getting to know you before heading out. The conversation is engaging, studded with flirting and genuine curiosity. It’s like he’s hanging on to every word you say, truly attempting to form any sort of connection. Most guys wouldn’t make this effort for a one night stand, especially not someone who looks like they could have a new one every night.

To say he’s beyond saving is an understatement in Jake’s opinion. With every second that goes by, you’re sounding more and more like his dream girl. You like his beer, his favorite place to eat, and you share a few of his hobbies. It’s like a match made in heaven.

As the night progresses, guilt starts eating at the hem of your shirt. The drinks are running low, and the sky is growing dim, and the opportunity to fulfill your challenge is opening up more with every second that ticks by. Do you really want this amazing guy to be a bet?

He stands to leave, offering a hand to help you slip off your bar stool. “Shall we?”

Your hesitation makes him falter just a bit. Jake would be okay with waiting, if he was being honest. Yeah, he’s been semi hard the entire time you ran your finger up and down your drink absentmindedly, but he could take you out on a real date first. One where you stare at him with those pretty eyes and smile your captivating smile.

The feeling takes over as you take in his willingness. “I have something to admit.” You murmur, almost too quiet to pick up over the din of the bar. Luckily for you, he has great hearing.

“Lay it on me, sweet thing. I can take it.” He grins. Your hands find the edges of your shorts and play with the little string on the seam that you’ve been meaning to cut for a few days now.

“I made a stupid agreement with my friends that if I took home the guy I thought was the hottest at the bar, then they’d pay for my drinks next time.” You blurt out. His eyes widen slightly, sending a pang of anxiety through you, before his lips curl up into a smile.

He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders, spinning you towards the entrance of the bar. “Well, we wouldn’t want a nice girl like you to pay for her own drinks, huh?”

You arrive at your small house and fumble with the lock while Jake presses hot kisses to your neck. You’re biting back a whimper as the door finally swings open, walking short, hurried steps into the bedroom. His hands are all over you, burning like fire. They’re gripping at your shirt, your waist, the column of your throat, your upper thigh— anywhere he can get ahold of. You pull off your shirt as the back of your knees hit the soft mattress.

Before you can blink, Jake has taken off his shirt too, and his hands are kneading the bottom of your breasts, beneath your lacy bra. “You sure?” He asks. You nod vigorously, unhooking your straps with your fingers, but he just looks down disapprovingly. “With your words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe. With that confirmation, he wastes no time.

Your clothes are tossed to some unknown corner of your room. You couldn’t care less about where they ended up, not when Jake is running his fingers over your hardening nipples.

He ghosts over them with just enough pressure to get you cursing. He’s hardly done anything and you can still feel a wetness gathering between your legs. When he moves up, taking your left nipple in his mouth, his bare thigh pressing between yours, a gasp escapes your mouth.

“That good?” He asks. His low voice sends vibrations up your chest, and you utter a quiet confirmation. He pays some attention to your other breast as you practically grind against his thigh, desperate for any sort of friction where you need it most.

He gives you a playful sigh, looking down at your writhing body. You look gorgeous, and knowing that his slight touches are enough to make you squirm is the ego boost of the century. Your eyelashes give a slight flutter at his next words. “Patience. I’ll give you what you want eventually, don’t worry.” His hand slips down and squeezes your thigh encouragingly.

“Now, Jake, please.” You almost whine. It’s embarrassing how well he seems to figure out your body. Even now, he’s kissing his way down your neck, finding every place that heightens your growing arousal. You hook your legs around his waist and rest your arms on the sides of his neck. “I want what I want now.”

It’s amazing how quickly your words travel to his dick. Jake’s roaringly hard, and you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. You rub your legs up and down, teasing, drawing the most beautiful groan out of his open mouth. You’re going to be the death of him, he thinks.

“You drive a hard bargain, darlin’, and I’m not one to refuse.”

His hands travel down your body, taking time to caress your sides and send shivers up your spine. When he finally reaches the puddle under you, he quirks his eyebrows. “That excited?”

You roll your eyes at him, even though all he can see is the slightest movement of your face. “Get on with it, cowboy.”

He chuckles and places a small kiss on your hipbone. “Yes ma’am.”

He slips one finger inside you, pulling a soft noise from your swollen lips. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts. “Might take you a bit to get used to me.” He curls the finger gently, and you see stars as it brushes up against the spot inside of you that you can’t reach yourself. He’s bigger, stronger, longer, wider. A second finger joins the first, the digits stretching you deliciously.

A pressure begins to build in your stomach as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. Ah, fuck, he knows what he’s doing. Your hips buck up slightly on top of your mattress, pressing your core into the palm of his hand. “Please.” You squeak.

He frowns, but his pupils are blown up in pure ecstasy. “Well excuse me for trying to give you a good time.” His free hand moves to pinch the curve of your ass lightly. You sit up fully and trail your nails down his back, reveling in the shiver it draws from him. With one smooth motion, you take his cock in your hand and give him a small stroke that has him jolting in his place.

“We can both have a good time if you would put on a condom and fuck me already.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop and consider how needy they sound. They seem to work, though, as he smirks at you and guides your hand up and down his length.

“I’m guessing your dresser drawer is ready for stuff like this?” He asks. You feel your face grow warmer at exactly how right he is as you slide the drawer open and grab one. “Ah, you’ve even got my size. What a responsible girl you are.” His voice comes out as a half laugh, and you try to stifle your own laughter with the palm of your hand.

“I like to be prepared.”

“Might as well throw the smaller ones away after tonight. You’ll only want mine when I’m done with you.” He’s so cocky it’s funny instead of off-putting. You hand him the condom and he rolls it over himself. He has a right to be cocky, you think, with a body like that. All taut muscle and chest hair. When he brings his hand up to the back of your neck to lower you down on your bed, your heart gives a mighty flutter.

“Prove it.” You say, for the second time that night. He gives you a look that says he’s going to prove it more than once, over and over until you’re begging him to keep proving it, then a bit more after that.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his tip pressing into your warm entrance. As he pushes forwards slowly, teasingly, you’re suddenly aware of just how big he is. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever felt, and despite how wet you’ve become, it’s a lot to handle. You wince as his length stretches you, waiting for the feeling to shift from uncomfortable to ungodly good.

“You bit off more than you can chew, didn’t you?” Jake teases. “We can stop if you want, just say the word.”

Your steady voice challenges him as you try to pull it together. “Keep going. I can take it.”

He doesn’t know how, but Jake gets impossibly harder. He indulges you, though, leaving small kisses on your cheeks to distract you from the pinching pain. Once he’s completely bottomed out, you breathe a sigh of relief. Then, of course, you notice that it feels good. Really good.

He’s pressed right up against a spot that has you seeing stars, and when he moves, slowly at first, the drag forces a moan from deep in your throat. You feel so full, so complete. His pace picks up, and you close your eyes.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He praises, voice strained. The movement of his hips is delicious. Smooth, quick, deep. When his fingers find his way to your clit, you almost finish right then and there.

You’re panting, breath coming out in hot waves against the nape of Jake’s neck. He shivers at the feeling, pressing closer to you to soak in more of that warmth. “Jake, I’m- I’m gonna…” you trail off, closing your mouth as another whimper tries to sneak out.

“Go for it, sweetness. Let me hear that pretty voice.”

With one, two, three more strokes, you feel the knot within you beginning to unravel. Your nails rake down his sides, one of his hands is gripping your waist and the other is firmly attached to your bundle of nerves, and his mouth is suddenly on yours, muffling your noises. It’s overwhelming. With one sharp gasp, you clench down hard and come undone.

Jake follows soon after as he pulls out with a groan. The sound falls heavily on your blissed-out ears.

You sit up, taking his face in your hand. “You’ve proved it. Oh, and I’m officially tonight’s lucky winner.” You say with a beaming smile. He scoffs lightly.

“You were a winner the minute you stepped into that bar.” He winks at you as your hand moves down to rest on his collarbone. “Just let me join in on your winnings when you cash out.”

“In your dreams, cowboy. The most you’ll get is a beer or two before my friends take their cards away.”

He blows a little air out of the side of his mouth before collapsing onto your bed like he owns it, pulling you into his arms. “I’ll take what I can get if it means I can see you again.”

You sigh happily, snuggling into his chest. “Is that a promise?”

“Sure is. The Hard Deck, next Friday. Bring your friends and we’ll figure it out from there.”

Taglist: @seitmai

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Yoongi Fic Recommendations Part 2

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

part 1

Series

Miss Dial (s) by @versigny ⊹₊⋆ [11:31] You: okay so i’m texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting yoongi and telling him how badly i want his cock tonight. Arent you proud?

[11:32] unknown number: this is yoongi, hi 

Please Be Naked (a f s) (ft. namjoon) by @floralseokjin ⊹₊⋆ Recently heartbroken, it feels like you’ll never be able to get over it. But a chance encounter with a guy you haven’t seen in months changes everything…  

One Shots

want a taste? (f s) by @suga-kookiemonster ⊹₊⋆ pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. of course, you’re reasonably skeptical of his claims—but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong.

take care of you (f s) by @kookslastbutton ⊹₊⋆ To keep your fiance from burning out you suggest a weekend getaway to Gapyeong, a charming town about an hour outside Seoul. You've specifically asked him to leave his work equipment at home but like a deep rooted habit, he still brings it with him. You're left with no choice but to find a way to get his attention back.

You Broke Me (f) by @7ndipity ⊹₊⋆ Just clingy, fluffy Yoongi after Reader comes home after a month-long trip

Shy (s) by @7ndipity ⊹₊⋆ You’re desperately craving your boyfriend's attention, but are too shy to ask for it outright. Luckily, Yoongi knows what you want anyway.

Sweet Spot (s f) by @cultleaderyoongi ⊹₊⋆ Three months into dating, Yoongi ponders what the perfect scenario for a love confession would be. There's no manual stating when and where and how is appropriate. It's only convenient when his body reacts faster than his brain, doing the job for him.

Eargasm (s) by @lavishedinjimin ⊹₊⋆ The idea of having your first ever orgasm by talking to a hot, random stranger through your phone scares the living hell out of you, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.

F*ck Christmas (a f s) by @sailoryooons ⊹₊⋆ Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

Workaholic (s) by @hobiwonder ⊹₊⋆ Yoongi needs to relax and Hoseok has many tricks up his sleeve to make him. None of them Yoongi thought included hiring a hooker to pay him a visit one stormy night. You were only trying to escape a crazed man chasing you down on a stormy night. Never was your intention to end up in an attractive man’s house. Definitely not one who thought you were a hooker. 

Backtrack (s) (ft. jimin) by @mapofthesea ⊹₊⋆ There’s no telling just how long you'd been stuck in the windowless studio, and you’re just about ready to walk out and forfeit your paycheck for the week, until your bosses strike up an interesting bargain.

the pink pill (s) by @dollfaceksj ⊹₊⋆ In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

all night (s) (ft. namjoon) by @axigailxo ⊹₊⋆ in which listening to music during a smoke sesh with your best friends namjoon and yoongi in the studio turns into much more

damn the charcuterie board. (s) (ft. jimin) by @bratkook

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

I keep going over the world we knew (p.2)

a player 230/ Thanos/ Su-Bong x fem!reader fic

summary: “It had always been him and her against the world. But if you've been fighting against the world for years, how do you react when you suddenly realize that your best friend has become your world?”

warnings: none really except the usual Thanos/Squid Game stuff. Maybe slightly ooc Thanos? , Written in my notes app.

note: not gonna lie, I originally planned for this to only have 2 parts BUT I decided taking my time with it and all that gives it a nice pace.

Hope you enjoy!!!

🏷️: @l5byrinth , @wpdarlingpan , @lollipopsandstuff

Part 1 , Part 3

The night after the second game was far too quiet for Thanos to ignore the gnawing feeling that had settled in his chest ever since coming back to the dorm. He had survived the games with a cold mix of calculated precision and blasting his brain to the moon with drugs. But neither the success , nor the growing amount of money in the ever present piggy bank was enough to drown out the nagging ache in his ribs when he thought of [Y/N].

His [Y/N].

The way she moved with a sense of confidence and purpose that was simply too authentic to be fake. The way she had shut him out so quickly, eyes never seeming to truly look at him. Gods did he long for that familiar gaze to land on him. To rediscover that warmth he had once found in it. By now it had been years since Thanos had last spoken to her—since he’d ruined everything. But the memories, the raw, untouched feelings, were still there. Unforgiven. Unwavering. Never truly gone.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t keep pretending that this wasn’t affecting him. Not even with several of his colourful pills pumping through his system.

Thanos’ eyes drifted across the darkened room, only stopping when he had found [Y/N]’s form a few beds down from his. She was sitting there, still as stone, eyes staring straight ahead with that same unreadable expression she had been wearing ever since the first game. Not a single word had passed between them since their brief interaction during the last game. But ,despite how it might seem, Thanos wasn’t stupid. He could feel the tension in the air whenever their paths crossed.

He wasn’t used to feeling this way. Especially not when his survival instincts kicked in so loudly, demanding every ounce of his energy to focus on the prize. “Win the money , pay off your debt.” had become the silent mantra in his brain. But that was the thing with [Y/N], she had always been able to pull at the strings of something deep inside him, something far more complicated than any strategy or skill. Something deeply ,deeply personal.

“Hey do you think I could-“ Nam-Guy -or whatever his name was- popped into Thanos’ field of vision. With an annoyed sigh, the purple haired player stood up. “Not now.” He muttered, putting both of his hands on the boy’s shoulders, turning him to the bed next to his. “Talk to him instead.” Baffled Nam-Gyu looked over his shoulder, surprise in his voice as he exclaimed a “What-“. But Thanos was already halfway across the room, shoes making quiet thuds against the floor as he made his way over to [Y/N]’s cot.

“You know,” Thanos came to a halt on one of the lower steps that rested between the beds, resting his arms on [Y/N]’s mattress as he propped up his head. Thanos’ voice was calm. Almost too calm to [Y/N]’s ears, judging by the gravity of the situation they had found themselves in. “Staring at the wall isn't going to change anything."

Thanos leaned against the bed frame, his usual cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched [Y/N]. She was sitting still as a stone with an expression colder than ice. Not once had she bothered to look at him since he had approached her bed, and that infuriated him.

“Are you really gonna sit there like you don’t know who I am?” he drawled, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “You know, I’m starting to feel like a ghost. And I’m not really the type to fade into the background, you know?”

[Y/N] fought the urge to roll her eyes, choosing to ignore the purple haired pain-in-the-ass who she had once called her best friend.

“Well, if it helps, I can try and get a little more dramatic,” Thanos said, pushing himself off the bedframe in order to lean in closer, reducing the distance between them. “Maybe I’ll do a little tap dance or something. You seem like you’d appreciate the effort.”

At that [Y/N] finally glanced at him, but only for a brief moment, before turning her gaze back to the wall. "You’re a real piece of work, Su-Bong," she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for him to catch the venom in her words. He chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. I’m one of a kind.” His voice was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge in his tone. “And I’m starting to think you don’t even remember who I am anymore.” [Y/N] shot him a glance, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, I remember exactly who you are, Su-Bong. And that's the problem."

The words hit him like a splash of cold water, but he refused to let it show. He leaned in closer, deliberately invading her space, his eyes gleaming with that familiar cockiness. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She met his gaze with a fiery intensity. “It means that you left. You walked away, and I’m still here, cleaning up your mess. So yeah, I remember you. And I remember how it felt to have you pull away like I meant nothing.”

Thanos laughed, but it was dry, forced. “Jesus, you’ve got a way with words, don’t you? You know, I thought you’d be more fun to mess with, but I forgot how good you were at throwing guilt trips. Really good.”

“Guilt trips?” [Y/N] turned her body to face him fully now, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and sheer hurt. “No, Su-Bong, this isn’t about guilt. It’s about the fact that you’re standing there, pretending like it’s all fine now, when you did leave. You disappeared, and now you expect everything to just magically go back to how it was? Is that it? You think I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to waltz back in with your pretty purple hair and expect me to just forgive you?”

Thanos smirked. “I don’t expect anything from you. But you might want to reconsider that little attitude of yours. It’s really not helping the situation.”

“You think I care about your situation?” she snapped, her voice louder. “You think I’ve been sitting here, all starry-eyed, just waiting for you to get your shit together? Newsflash: I’m done doing that. I’m done with you, Su-Bong.”

The weight of [Y/N]’s words hung heavy in the air, the tension between the estranged pair was palpable. Thanos was about to speak again, something sharp and cutting on the tip of his tongue, when the loudspeaker's monotone voice sliced through the silence, calling the players to line up for food.

Without as much as a glance, [Y/N] brushed past Thanos as though he were invisible, the force of her shoulder knocking him slightly off balance. Her gaze was firmly locked onto the middle of the room as she began walking toward the food line, every step measured, holding that unwavering confidence.

For a moment, Thanos stood there, frozen in place. The argument had been abruptly interrupted, but the sting of her words and her rejection lingered in the air like smoke. As the others began to shuffle toward the line, he realized there was nothing left to say—at least, not now. The silence between them was louder than any argument ever could be.

[loganwritesprobably]

When You're In Danger - Straw Hats (Monster Trio)

Content/warnings: GN!Reader, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji headcanons, canon-typical violence referenced, injuries referenced, these men believe in your independence and your abilities!

Part two feat. Nami, Robin and Jinbei

While Luffy hates the idea of you getting hurt, he knows he can't stop it

He'd never expect you to idle by when a fight happens just because he doesn't want you getting hurt

He knows that you're capable, and he's proud of that fact

He'd keep an ear out for you though, as you continued your own fights, just in case

If you were in serious danger that you couldn't combat yourself, Luffy would move heaven and Earth to make sure you were safe

If you got hurt despite him rushing to your rescue, he would blame himself, but he would internalise that

If anyone stood in his way on his path to your side to defend you, they wouldn't be standing for much longer

Monkey D Luffy is a beast, and seas forbid anyone forgets thet

If you were hurt in a battle because you were outmatched, Luffy wouldn't leave your side for anything until he was sure you'd be okay

He trusts Chopper instinctively, but you're too special to lose

Zoro knows, perhaps even more than you know yourself, that you can handle danger. He trusts you to know how to protect yourself

He taught you how after all

So generally speaking he doesn't worry much about you when a fight begins, instead he oozes a quiet confidence

Zoro also knows when he or the crew are outmatched

The crew are brilliant, and have their own skills, but they're all at different combat levels - you're not on the same level as him

If he knew a fight would be too much for you, he'd seek you out in order to assist you

Needing help doesn't make you weak, it just shows you what you need to improve on

It would be second nature for him to find you, one of the rare times that he has a sense of direction

If you became injured because of his failure to protect you, he'd punish himself with intensified training, forcing himself to work harder

If he can't protect you, then what's the point? You're the only thing as important as his dream and Luffy

He wouldn't be able to look at you for a while after, afraid that you also weren't going to forgive him for his failure

Zoro would cut anyone down, ally or foe, to get to you in times of danger

Sanji knows when you're in trouble as if it's a sixth sense

Even if he thinks you can handle himself, he'll rush from his own fight to appear at your side and see for himself that you're coping

It's almost uncanny, how fast he can be there at your side

He only steps in if he's absolutely sure you need him to, because the last thing he wants is to step on your toes if you can handle it

He knows how good it feels to succeed

If you do need him to get involved, he's there before you can ask out loud. He sees it in your face and your body language

He dispatches whatever was causing you problems as fast as he can, then makes sure that you're okay

You even rank above Nami in terms of importance for him. The entire crew loves Nami and can help her - nobody loves you quite like Sanji does

If he can't get there in time, the person who hurt you will have the highest price to pay: a slow and painful death

Nobody is allowed to hurt you, not as long as he lives

He'll apologise to you profusely once the job is done, and spend at least a week if not more at your beck and call doing whatever you need ask him to do

You best be ready to eat your favourite meals every day until he's satisfied that he has apologised enough

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[thewulf]

Beneath the Healer's Touch || Azriel

Summary: Request - I was wondering if you could write an ACOTAR fic with Azriel as the reader’s mate where the reader is Madja’s apprentice, but she rarely ever asks her to personally treat their patients, like she’s just there to assist with the equipment and materials and stuff and the IC never really questioned it... Read Rest Here

A/N: Wasn't planning on putting two Az fics out in a row but I just had to write this. Love it so much, thank you for the requests :)

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Healer Reader)

Word Count: 5.6k +

TW: Use of Magic (fluffy), yelling

You huddle against the rough fabric of the medical tent situated perilously close to the front lines. As Madja’s apprentice your role in the Night Court has always been subdued. Your presence nearly as invisible as the shadows where you often stand. A shy but observant female fae, you’ve adapted to watching and learning. You assisted with the preparation of healing instruments and materials rather than engaging in the direct act of healing itself. Madja, the seasoned healer you serve under has never asked you to step beyond these boundaries . That was until today.

Outside of the tent the clash and clamor of war reverberate through the air. A constant reminder of the stakes at play. Inside the tent the atmosphere is thick with the scent of blood and herbs being punctuated by the groans of soldiers bearing the fresh scars of battle. Each day the flow of injured warriors increases, overwhelming even Madja’s formidable skills.

Her usual calm efficiency begins to wane under the strain. Her movements growing more frantic as she tries to attend to multiple critical cases simultaneously. The limited space of the tent is filled with the wounded and the air is heavy with desperation and the iron tang of blood.

Seeing the desperation in Madja's eyes as she struggles to keep up you begin to feel the weight of every unattended soldier pressing down upon you. Your hands which were so accustomed to organizing and managing the background needs itch to do more — to heal and to help directly.

In a moment of sheer necessity Madja turns to you with a look of grave urgency. "I need you now, more than ever," she says over the din of suffering. Her voice thick with exhaustion. "You must help me heal them. We are losing too many. I have called for more help, but I need you today."

As the urgent call pierces through the chaotic sounds of the medical tent you look into Madja’s eyes feeling the weight of her plea. Your heart races but your response is calm and resolute. “I’ll do it,” you say quickly. The words almost catching in your throat.

Madja reaches out, her hand briefly squeezing yours. A gesture laden with both gratitude and apology. “I’m sorry to ask this of you,” she murmurs as her voice laced with regret as she glances at the wounded waiting for attention.

You shake your head dismissing her concerns with a small, reassuring smile that you hope masks your nervousness. “It’s alright, Madja. I’ll be okay,” you assure her while stepping closer to the first of many soldiers who need your help. Your voice is stronger than you feel, imbued with a determination that you muster from the depths of your commitment to heal. Despite the personal cost.

With a deep, steadying breath you prepare yourself for the task ahead knowing each healing touch will draw the pain into your own body. But in this moment of desperate need your resolve is unwavering. You are ready to face whatever comes for the sake of those who depend on you.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you step forward. Your usual place behind the scenes abandoned for the harsh reality of frontline medical work. You approach the first soldier laid out before you. His injuries severe and daunting. As you extend your hands to begin the healing a part of you recoils knowing the personal cost you will soon pay. With a deep breath you brace yourself against the incoming tide of pain that will transfer to you as you heal him accepting the burden as the price of your newfound duty.

In the stifling heat of the medical tent, you move from one soldier to the next. Your hands becoming conduits of both healing and suffering. The first soldier’s injury—a deep gash across his arm—closes under the gentle press of your palms but the sharp sting of the wound sears through you as if the blade had cut into your own flesh. You stifle a gasp, biting down on your lip to keep composed as the pain lingers. It was a cruel echo of the soldier's relief.

With each healing the burden grows heavier. A fractured leg brings an ache that settles deep into your bones making you falter for a moment as you steady yourself against a tent pole. A burn from a fire spell sends waves of searing heat coursing through your skin. You struggle to maintain the calm exterior expected of a healer. Despite the agony each touch brings you press on being driven by the urgent need around you.

The soldiers were unaware of the cost you pay with each healing thank you with weak smiles and hoarse words of gratitude. You return their thanks with nods and a faint smile making sure to hide the toll their pain exacts upon you.

Throughout all of this the Inner Circle is embroiled in their own battles too consumed by strategic planning and counterattacks to notice the quiet suffering of Madja’s apprentice. They see you sometimes as a fleeting figure moving among the cots, but the depth of your sacrifice remains unseen being masked by the chaos of war and the stoic mask you wear.

The pain accumulates as a collection of injuries that are not your own yet reside within you. As the day wears on you feel yourself weakening. The physical costs of your hidden ability dragging at your limbs making each step heavier. Each breath shallower. Still, you continue, the need to help, to heal, pushing you beyond your limits. The cries of pain are a call you cannot ignore even as each healing tears a little piece from your own reserves of strength.

In the privacy of brief moments alone when you can lean against the cool canvas of the tent and close your eyes, the reality of your situation presses close, intimate, and overwhelming. How long can you sustain this? The question haunts the back of your mind, but you push it away instead focusing on the faces of those you’ve saved on the necessity of your pain for their relief. This is the path you’ve chosen. Hidden in shadows yet illuminated by the faint glow of altruism, bearing silently the scars that no one else can see.

As dusk begins to settle over the camp casting long shadows between the rows of tents Azriel returns from a skirmish. His usually composed expression tightened with discomfort. The shadows that constantly swirl around him seem agitated reflecting his unease. He carries a minor wound. A laceration on his arm that under normal circumstances would be a trivial matter for a healer of his caliber. However, this wound is tainted with faebane, a substance notorious for its ability to thwart fae healing magic.

You watch from a distance initially noticing the way he grimaces as he presses his fingers against the jagged edge of the cut attempting to coax his own magic to seal it. But the faebane embedded in the wound repels each attempt. And with each failed healing his frustration grows. An exceptionally rare crack in his usually impenetrable demeanor.

Recognizing his struggle, you approach him tentatively. The weight of the day’s healings presses heavily on you. Each step toward him a battle against the fatigue that threatens to buckle your knees. “Azriel,” you call softly not wanting to startle him.

He looks up and for a brief moment you’re caught in the intensity of his gaze. His eyes that were usually so guarded and unreadable were now openly display his vexation and pain. "It's this damned faebane," he mutters almost to himself as his hand falls away from the wound.

Stepping closer you offer a small, reassuring smile though your body screams in protest. “Let me try,” you whisper while extending your trembling hands towards his arm.

As your fingers brush against his skin a shock of connection jolts through you. Stronger and more profound than anything you've felt with the other soldiers. It’s as if his very soul resonates with yours. A hum of compatibility that whispers of a deeper bond. Your heart stutters in your chest but you focus on the task at hand pushing away the implications of what this connection might mean.

You press your palms to the laceration and immediately a sharp pain slices through your own arm, mirroring Azriel’s wound. You stifle a cry by biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood. The sensation is intense, more so because it’s Azriel’s pain you’re sharing now. Despite the agony you pour your energy into the healing being driven by a newfound desperation.

Azriel watches you. His expression shifting from one of pain to concern. "You don’t have to do this," he starts. His voice rough with his own discomfort and the growing worry for yours.

But you shake your head pushing through the pain with a determination that frightens even you. "I can handle it," you lie. The words barely a whisper over the throbbing in your arm. As the faebane slowly loses its grip and the wound begins to close a wave of dizziness hits you. So strong that you sway on your feet.

As Azriel steadies you with his shadows curling anxiously around his form he is acutely aware of the pain coursing through his arm, mirroring the wound he just healed. As a shadowsinger he has always been attuned to the deeper often hidden emotions of those around him. He was capable of sensing the unspoken pains and secret fears that others carry silently. However, this experience is startlingly intense. A raw echo of agony that pulses through him with unusual clarity.

The pain he feels as you heal him doesn't feel like his own. It’s as if he’s tapped into a direct stream of your suffering. This connection, though new and unexplored, unnerves him. It is more profound than anything he has experienced through his shadows before. Almost as if the pain itself has a voice, whispering of shared suffering and mutual burden. He struggles with the realization that he is feeling your agony so vividly. The lines of empathy blurring into something deeper. Something he can't quite understand yet.

In this moment as the faebane's resistance fades and the laceration begins to heal, Azriel finds himself grappling with a mix of concern and a peculiar sense of protectiveness. The intensity of the connection doesn’t fit into the usual confines of his abilities or past experiences. While he doesn't comprehend the full extent of what this means—far from realizing the potential of a mate bond—he recognizes that something significant lies beneath the surface of this shared pain. This unexpected insight into your sacrifice doesn't just alarm him. It shifts something fundamental in how he perceives you. Compelling him to reassess the nature of your relationship and his instincts towards you.

His hands were gripping your shoulders with surprising gentleness. "What is this costing you?" he asks. His voice laced with a rare note of vulnerability having felt a trace of your suffering through the nascent bond neither of you yet understands.

You want to reassure him. To tell him it’s nothing but the shadows in his eyes seem to see through you, recognizing the depth of your sacrifice. In this shared moment of pain and healing the unspoken truth of your connection lingers heavily between you. A secret laid bare by the battle scars you both carry.

You meet Azriel's intense gaze seeing the concern etched in his features threatening to unravel the composure you've fought so hard to maintain. His hands on your shoulders feel both grounding and alarming. As if they're the only things keeping you from collapsing under the weight of your own sacrifices. "I need to keep going," you manage to say. Your voice a strained whisper that barely conceals the weariness lacing each syllable. "There are others who need me."

Trying to inject a note of reassurance into your tone you add quickly, "It's part of healing, Azriel. I'll be okay." Even as you speak the words you feel the hollowness behind them. A contrast to the truth of your pain. But you're determined not to let him see just how much it's affecting you not wanting to add to his burdens.

With a gentle but firm push against his hands you step back pulling away from his comforting grasp. "I have to go," you insist, turning towards the next cot where another soldier lies moaning in pain. You don't look back almost afraid that if you do your resolve will crumble under the weight of his worry and the unspoken connection that you both feel but don't yet understand. You move forward, each step fueled by a mix of duty and the urgent need to escape the intensity of his scrutiny and the complicated emotions it stirs within you.

Azriel was still visibly troubled by the earlier interaction. With your evident strain he insists on accompanying you as you move from one wounded soldier to another. His presence is a silent, watchful shadow that lingers just at the edge of your vision. While the others of the Inner Circle are engaged in the throes of battle, Azriel has chosen to remain by your side. A decision that speaks more of his concern than any words could.

As you press on each healing session takes more from you. Draining your energy, drawing more of your strength. Azriel observes closely noting the increasing pallor of your skin and the subtle tremors in your hands each time you withdraw them from a wound. Despite your attempts to mask your pain, each expression, each falter does not escape his vigilant gaze.

As you lean over a severely wounded soldier focusing intently on sealing a deep, life-threatening laceration the accumulated pain from your healings surges like a tide, overwhelming and relentless. The sharp and unyielding agony lashes through you, blurring your vision and weakening your knees. You feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of your consciousness threatening to pull you under.

In a desperate bid to maintain control you reach out not for Azriel but for the tent’s support pole—a futile attempt to steady yourself. Yet, your hands grasp only air as your strength finally fails. Before you can process the fall Azriel’s arms are around you. His reaction swift and sure. He pulls you gently against him cushioning your collapse as he lowers both of you smoothly to the floor of the tent.

In this moment your pride battles with the undeniable relief of his support. You hadn't called for him. You hadn't wanted to admit that he might have been right about the danger of your condition, yet here he is, the one catching you as you fall. His presence is both a comfort and a confrontation. A not-so-subtle reminder of your own vulnerability.

Azriel cradles you against his chest. His expression a mask of concern etched deep with the lines of fear for your well-being. He doesn’t speak immediately instead opting to brush a gentle hand across your forehead, pushing away strands of hair matted with sweat. His touch is soft, almost reverent, as if he’s both trying to comfort you and reassure himself of your presence.

Around you the battle's distant roars continue but within the tent a quiet bubble of stillness envelops you both punctuated only by your labored breaths. Azriel’s gaze is locked on your face searching for any sign of recovery. Looking for any indication that you might overcome this bout of weakness.

In his eyes there is a flicker of something more—something beyond mere concern. It's a profound realization of your sacrifice. Of the silent suffering you've endured to heal others. And with this realization comes a fierce protectiveness. A vow forming in the depths of his being. He holds you closer, a silent promise cradled in the curve of his arms, that from this moment forward he will do whatever it takes to protect you. To ensure that this burden of pain is no longer yours to bear alone. The bond between you seemingly mysterious and undefined becomes his anchor. The thing he clings to as he silently pledges to be the safeguard you might not admit you need but he knows you deserve.

The pain you've been shouldering now echoes clearly through the bond that neither of you fully understands yet. But its intensity is unmistakable. Azriel feels each pang as if it were his own. A shared torment that binds you together with an ironclad tether. His face was mere inches from yours and is etched with deep concern and something akin to fear. "Hold on," he urges. His voice a low, desperate command. "Stay with me."

As Azriel holds you in his arms feeling the distressing ebb of your consciousness his protective instincts surge into high alert. The warmth from your body seems to be fading and your breathing becomes worryingly shallow. Typical signs that your physical limits have been catastrophically breached. Panic tightens its grip on him. A vivid contrast to the usual calm demeanor of the shadowsinger.

"Madja!" he calls out desperately. His voice piercing the relative quiet of the tent with an urgency that rattles the air. The shadows around him stir reflecting his growing desperation. He needs her expertise, her understanding of your mysterious condition that now seems perilously close to claiming you.

Madja rushes through the flaps of the tent with her healer's bag clutched tightly, the sight that greets her—a formidable Azriel cradling you, pale and barely conscious—draws a sharp intake of breath from her. She kneels beside you both. Her experienced eyes quickly assessing your condition.

"What happened?" she demands. Her voice thick with worry and confusion. As she lays her hands on you seeking to gauge the extent of your depletion Azriel's gaze hardens.

"She's been healing the soldiers, taking their pain onto herself," Azriel explains. His words rushed. His tone laced with both accusation and fear. "She collapsed just now. How could you not know the toll it was taking on her?"

Madja's expression crumbles into one of profound guilt and regret. She meets Azriel's intense gaze with a resigned sorrow. "I knew," she admits. Her voice a whisper of remorse. "I knew, but I thought we could manage it—keep it under control. I feared the implications of her gift being fully exposed. I thought I was protecting her."

Azriel’s anger wanes slightly instead replaced by a sharp pang of understanding. He knows all too well the complexities of hiding one's true capabilities in a world that might not understand or might exploit them. However, his concern for your well-being remains paramount.

"She needs help now, Madja. What can we do?" he asks with his voice softening but still tinged with urgency.

Madja nods. Her focus turning entirely to you. "I can stabilize her for now, but we need to rethink how she uses her gift," she says as she begins to channel her own healing magic into you. A gentle flow designed not to heal but to sustain.

As Madja works Azriel holds you closer. His thoughts racing with concern and resolve. He watches the slight return of warmth to your cheeks under Madja’s skilled care, feeling a blend of relief and determination surge through him. A promise forms in his heart. Not merely to protect you but to truly understand and support your unique gift, no matter the cost.

However, the demands of the ongoing battle pull at him. Madja noticed the conflict in his expression speaks with a calm authority. "She must rest now, Azriel," she advises with her voice steady. "And they need you. The battle isn't over yet."

Reluctantly Azriel nods. The weight of his responsibilities clear on his face. He leans down with his lips brushing your forehead in a gentle kiss. His assurance of returning to you. "I'll be back soon," he promises. His voice a whisper meant only for you. With one last lingering look that conveys all his worry and care he stands and leaves the tent. His figure soon disappearing into the fray.

The war rages on demanding every ounce of Azriel's focus and skill. Yet his thoughts frequently stray back to the medical tent, to you, lying there in recovery. Each moment he can spare he finds himself glancing towards the tent. His mind racing with scenarios of returning to you.

As the last echoes of battle fade and a weary peace begins to settle, Azriel's duties finally allow him a moment to breathe. He wastes no time. The moment he is able he rushes back to the medical tent with his steps quick with urgency and anticipation. Pushing through the tent flaps, Azriel’s eyes immediately seek you out. He finds you awake but visibly exhausted propped up against some pillows. The sight of you, alive and recovering, though still weak floods him with relief.

“I’m here,” Azriel breathes out as he quickly crosses the space to your side before kneeling beside your cot. His hand reaches out brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a tenderness that belies his warrior's exterior. “How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice low and filled with concern. His eyes scanning your face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

Azriel’s presence instantly eases some of the weight pressing down on you and relief softens your features. "I'm exhausted," you admit but manage a weak smile. "But I'll be alright, just need some rest." Your eyes meet his and even in your weariness there's an undeniable relief that reflects back from his gaze. An unspoken understanding of the solace you both find in each other’s presence after the chaos of battle.

"You had us worried for a while there," Azriel says. His voice a mix of relief and mild reprimand. His eyes scan your face still searching for signs of pain or lingering fatigue. His concern palpable but not overwhelming. "Madja told me you'd recover but seeing it for myself makes all the difference."

Your smile deepens slightly at his words. You were grateful for his concern and the straightforward honesty that always marked your interactions. "I'll be fine, Azriel. Really," you assure him with your tone aiming to put him at ease. "It's good to have you back though."

In the days following the battle, as the camp slowly transitions from a place of urgent healing back to routine operations, your strength begins to return. With each passing day the pain and exhaustion that had once clouded your vision start to fade instead replaced by a growing vigor that Madja assures you is a good sign of recovery. Azriel, true to his word, visits often. His presence a constant reassurance as the camp breaks down around you. The war finally declared over.

Once you're deemed well enough to travel Azriel accompanies you back to Velaris. The journey was facilitated by the magic of winnowing is quick but disorienting. A dramatic shift from the dusty tents and the sharp smells of medicine to the lush, serene beauty of the Night Court. Back in Velaris the city seems to embrace you both with open arms. The familiar sights and sounds of the vibrant city life, the cobblestone streets lit by lanterns and the murmur of the Sidra River, provide a comforting backdrop to your continued recovery.

A few nights after your return, once you feel stronger and more like yourself, Azriel invites you to join him on a balcony overlooking Velaris. The balcony was part of a high vantage point in the House of Wind and offers a breathtaking view of the city spread out beneath a canopy of stars. The transition from the harsh realities of war to this peaceful setting marks a significant shift in your healing process—both physical and emotional.

Seated together on the balcony the atmosphere between you is one of tentative peace. A reprieve from the chaos of the battlefield. The evening air is cool and carrying the gentle scent of night-blooming flowers. There’s a quiet that allows for softer, more intimate conversation. Here with the distance from the front lines you both find the space to reflect on the recent events and the impact they’ve had on each of you discussing thoughts and feelings that the war left little room to explore.

This tranquil setting in Velaris which was far removed from the demands of war allows you both to see each other in a new light. Appreciating the resilience and strength each has shown, and perhaps, beginning to understand the deeper bond that seems to have formed in the crucible of conflict.

Azriel breaks the silence between you with a gentle voice reflecting the calm of the night. "I've been thinking about your healing abilities. About your gift," he says before pausing as if searching for the right way to broach the subject without overstepping. "It's a heavy burden you've carried… taking on others' pain."

You nod appreciating his careful approach. "It can be overwhelming," you admit. Your voice low. Sharing this truth with him feels both vulnerable and relieving. "Especially knowing that each time I heal, I take a little bit of that pain into myself."

The softness of his gaze as he looks at you speaks volumes, and he shifts slightly closer. "Perhaps we can find a way to ease that burden," he suggests. "Explore methods to shield you or at least to share the load." The idea of sharing this part of your life with Azriel, having him understand and perhaps help carry the weight, brings a warmth to your heart. It’s a tentative step towards deeper connection and you find yourself hoping for more.

"And how about us?" Azriel adds after a moment, the question hanging between you like a delicate thread. "These past weeks, feeling everything that you have felt... it’s made me realize how deeply connected I am to you. More than I anticipated." The admission hangs in the air and is charged with an unspoken depth of emotion. You felt it too. The inexplicable pull towards him. Something beyond mere friendship.

You smile a soft, genuine expression that lights up your eyes. "I feel it too," you confess. "It's like there’s something between us, something... more."

The conversation flows more freely now, the initial hesitance giving way to a hopeful exploration of what might be. Neither of you mentions the word 'mates,' still dancing around the full depth of your bond, but there’s an unspoken acknowledgment of the significance of your connection.

As the night deepens between you, you and Azriel make promises. Not grand declarations but quiet vows to support each other. To explore the depth of your bond and understand the extent of your powers together. It's a mutual commitment filled with the promise of discovering not just the mysteries of your abilities but also the potential of what you could be to each other.

With the city of Velaris sparkling below and the tranquil night wrapping around you there’s a sense of beginning. Of possibilities waiting to be explored. Together you watch the stars comforted by the presence of each other and hopeful for the future.

In the quiet of the pre-dawn, you and Azriel linger on the balcony ensconced in the gentle embrace of Velaris' early morning serenity. The sky is a tapestry of deep blues and purples and begins to lighten at the horizon, heralding the dawn. The air around you is charged with the quiet anticipation of the world waking up. A fitting backdrop for the profound moment unfolding between you.

Azriel's gaze remains fixed on the horizon, but his mind is clearly elsewhere—on the revelations of the night, on the words that now hover on the edge of being spoken. Finally, he turns to you with his expression open. He was vulnerable in a way that you've seldom seen from the reserved shadowsinger. "There's something undeniable about the connection between us," he begins. His voice soft, reverent almost. "It goes beyond what we’ve had. Beyond friendship.” You meet his gaze feeling the truth of his words resonate within you. It's a truth you've sensed but haven't dared to define until this moment.

Finally finding the courage to speak what he’s discovered he steps closer making sure to bridge the gap between you. His presence enveloping you in warmth. "I've felt every echo of your pain, every ripple of your joy as if they were my own. It's more than just empathy… it's a bond, a deep, unbreakable bond." His hands find yours. His touch gentle but firm. "I believe we're mates," he says. The words charged with emotion and an unspoken plea for you to feel the same.

Your heart leaps. The simplicity and sincerity of his admission cutting through any lingering doubts. You smile, not just with your lips but with your entire being, accepting the truth of his words and the bond they confirm. "Azriel, I've sensed it as well," you reply with your voice soft yet filled with wonder. "It’s as if there’s been a song woven into the fabric of our days, subtle yet persistent, waiting for us to finally hear it and understand its tune."

Azriel's smile in response is a thing of quiet joy. A uniquely rare and tender sight that stirs something deep within you. He pulls you gently closer and you find yourself wrapped in his embrace. The city around you awakening as the first light of dawn spills over the edges of the world.

In the tranquil embrace of dawn Azriel holds you close. His heart beating a tentative rhythm against yours. His voice carries a rare vulnerability that makes the air around you thrum with the weight of his words. “Do you want that?" he asks softly. His breath warm against your hair. "To always be there for each other. To face whatever this world throws at us, together, as one?"

He pulls back slightly as his hands were still gently cradling your face. His eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. This question isn't merely rhetorical. It's a genuine, open-ended inquiry into your desires. A request for your heart's agreement with his. Azriel's usual certainty is replaced by an endearing, hopeful uncertainty. Highlighting how deeply he values your consent and participation in this burgeoning bond.

You look into his eyes. Into those deep pools of night that have seen so much sorrow and solitude, now laced with tender hope. The dawn casts its first gentle rays illuminating the sincerity and slight apprehension on his face. This moment, this question, isn't just about confirming a bond. It's about choosing to build a future together.

"Yes, Azriel," you respond. Your voice steady and sure, a soft yet resolute affirmation that echoes the depth of your own feelings. "I want that more than anything."

Azriel's response is immediate. His eyes reflecting a profound relief and joy that seem to brighten the very air around him. A broad, genuine smile spreads across his face transforming his usually stoic expression into one of pure elation.

"You've just made me the happiest male in all of Prythian," he breathes out as his voice is rich with emotion. The sincerity in his words resonates deeply echoing the significance of your acceptance.

His arms pull you closer. The warmth of his embrace enveloping you as he whispers, "We'll face everything together, side by side. No matter what comes we won't face it alone."

"Always," you echo back, your voice a soft yet resolute affirmation. The certainty in your agreement strengthens the bond between you weaving your fates together with threads of shared strength and mutual understanding setting a path forward together in the intertwining dance of your shared lives.

Azriel’s smile deepens at your words. His relief and joy palpable. The certainty of your mutual promise solidifies the bond between you weaving your fates together with threads of shared strength and understanding. His hands that still cradling your face shift slightly and his fingers brush tenderly across your lips. A touch so gentle it sends a shiver down your spine.

The intimate gesture holds a world of meaning. As he gazes into your eyes the warmth and intensity of his emotions are clear. He leans in, his breath mingling with yours, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. Then with a tenderness that quickly deepens into something more he pulls you in for a kiss.

What starts as a gentle meeting of lips soon transforms into a kiss filled with passion and longing. As if all the emotions and realizations of the past days and weeks are being poured into this single, breathtaking moment. Azriel’s kiss is both a promise and a declaration, sealing the bond between you with a fervor that leaves you breathless.

Your arms wrap around him pulling him closer responding to the depth of his kiss with equal intensity. The world around you fades away leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment that transcends everything else. As the kiss lingers it becomes clear that this is not just a bond forged in the fires of battle but a connection that will shape your future, side by side, whatever may come.

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[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Paid Internship (Part 2)(Prison AU)

Author's Note: This is a Prison AU that the viewers of my blog seem to be pretty fond of. The main focuses for the romance parts will differ depending on the part. The reader is gender neutral and uses She/He stuff, but sometimes depending on what's going on I'll use stuff like Tits. Also, Sully will be in the fic, but I won't use his name. Pay attention to how Liu talks.

Author's Note 2: If you wanna be tagged for part three, leave a comment, or reblog.

Series Summary: Welcome to your paid internship at Roosevelt Federal Prison. After being seen for your potential and skills by your instructor at the Academy, he decided to give you opportunity of working in the US' most dangerous prison despite the disapproval and rejection from the higher ups. However, due to miscommunication and faulty paperwork, you're gonna up working with some of America's most danger serial killers for the semester.

Warnings: Implied Non-con, Murder, Lying, Deception, Descriptions of crimes, Perversion, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Sadism, Violence, Implied Nudity, Mocking, Humilation, Threats, Mood Swings, PTSD, Alcohol, Mental Illness, Dealings, Attempted Murder, Cursing, Sleep Deprived Workers, Stress, Agression, and More. This AU is not for the faint of heart.

Links: {Part 1} {Masterlist} {Series Concept}

"Oh god, what would Gibbons think of me if he saw me doing this," You said, rubbing you eyes as you stood infront of the door separating you from the inmates.

Liu didn't even tell you what Jeff stole from him, for all you know this could be some sick set up to get you hurt. However, you were slowly growing desperate. Toby's implication that Abbie Grace was still alive was filling you up with concern, she could be alive and out there, terrified, alone, probably hurt. Liu promised to tell you what he knew about Abbie if you gave him whatever Jeff stole.

Getting into solitary wasn't going to be easy. When you were first brought in, you saw a large line of men running into the ward. Based on this, your best assumption was that mostly security personnel were allowed in the ward, and if officers were let in, it was most likely with some kind of clearance. (A clearance you didn't have.)

"Ok Y/N, think, think. What are the pros of doing this... you get info from Liu, but he's already on your roster, meaning you'll be interviewing him some time down the road. But, he seems stubborn, so he won't tell me anything easily. You get to explore solitary! But, there's an extremely high risk that you'll get caught, expelled from the academy, fired from your internship, and most likely get charges placed against you."

You almost took back the deal. Almost.

"But if you don't fuck up, if you do everything right, if you solve this case, you'll be legend. You'll...get praise from Gibbons, from mom, from...," You paused, looking up with a shine in your eyes. "From...dad. I'm doing this."

Walking away from the inmates quarters, you made your way back to the little office Mandel assigned you. Closing the door as you entered, you looked at the little map posted up against the wall, looking for any security storage rooms.

Your plan may seem crazy, but it could work. Your plan was to somehow sneak into a security room, put on a uniform, grab some gear, find a keycard, and get into solitary. You'd be lucky if you even found the security room. The map was hard to understand, nothing was written in words, instead they used symbols as labels for rooms. You assumed that the orange coat for a symbol for some kind of inmate section.

"What would a symbol for the security room look like?" You asked yourself as you looked at the map.

Suddenly, you flinched at the sound of knocking coming from your door.

"INTERN! YOU IN THERE?" A masculine voice yelled from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the door. You couldn't but admit that you were a little on edge. What if they caught you sneaking into the inmate quarters through the cameras (But now do you think about it, where there any cameras to begin with?). That idea sent you into a panic, but you did your best to keep a neutral composure.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a large man. If you had the guess, he was probably was around 6'3, 6'4. You didn't take note of his appearance however, because you were more distracted by the large gun in his hand, and the large word "SECURITY" written on his chest.

"Um, can I help you?"

"Do you have a TV in here? We're checking all offices and rooms."

"...Yeah, why you ask?"

Without saying another word, the man pushed you to the side and grabbed the large TV from the corner.

"Hey! Dude! I need that," You stated, Marching towards the man as he lifted up the TV.

"Don't know if you got the news, intern, but any technology is strictly forbidden on prison grounds."

"...A prison...with no tech? How the hell is this legal, hell, how is this safe?"

The guard didn't say another word, walking off with the TV as you chased after him.

"If it's not allowed, why did I get it in the first place, hm?"

"From some dumbass I bet. Now, leave me alone; I have more bullshit I gotta deal with for the night."

Giving up on trying to get information from the security guard, you watched as he walked off into the distance. But, what he failed to notice was the fact that you were able to steal his keycard from his pocket. One of you cousins was a notorious thief back where you grew up, and he taught you a thing or two about pickpocketing.

"Never knew that dumbass' methods would work," You joked to yourself before quickly making your way to your office.

Opening the door, you took one last look at the map. After a few seconds of quick skimming, you saw the security room wasn't too far from the inmates quarters. It was a few doors down from the entrance to solitary, a pretty smart and convenient spot to hold the room.

Doing a quick check of your surroundings, you locked the door to your office and casually made your way to the security desk. You learned from when you snuck into the inmates' quarters. Even though you were an intern, looking scared and nervous drew attention, making you look suspicious, but if you kept a casual and calm expression, no one would suspect a thing!

"Just stay calm. Stay. Calm," You mumbled to yourself as you used the stolen keycard to open the door leading to the office area you saw when you first walked into the pasta section of the prison.

Taking a left, you did another skim of your surroundings before opening the security door and quietly making your way in. However, the first thing you were met with was the strong smell of sweat and iron.

"Shit...it smells like a high school locker room," You groaned as you pinched your nose. "Jesus...never heard of deodorant."

The security room was set up like a locker room. A few random uniforms were hanged against the wall with various numbers indicating their sizes placed above them. Some were hanged neatly, while others looked like they were placed in a rush. On the opposite side of the room, locked up in a glass container, where various guns, cuffs, shields, and batons. Even though the weapons were placed behind, hopefully, bullet proof glass, you couldn't help but feel like the glass wasn't going to prevent anything from being stolen. One thing you didn't notice at first was how dim the lighting in the room was. It wasn't so dark you couldn't see, but it was dark enough for some things to be barley noticeable. The last thing you cared enough to note was on the wall directly infront of you, a few lockers had their locks still open, meaning either someone was going to be back soon to get something, or someone forgot to close it, either way, you didn't want to stay long enough to find out.

Grabbing the uniform that looked like it would fit you best, you quickly changed into the security uniform. Looking at yourself in the mirror, the uniform was practically riot gear. Using the keycard to open the glass, you grabbed one of the guns from off the wall.

Walking out of the room, you took a deep breath before quickly making your way to solitary.

Opening the door, you instantly felt a shift in the atmosphere. Outside of solitary, there was always some kind of noise. May it be the sound of people walking, the noise the lights made, or just random white noise, there was always something. But here, here it was dead quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For some reason, you felt terrified to even make a single noise, to take a single step, hell, to even take a single breath. You felt regret hit you like a bus, you could feel your body begging you to go back, to take off the uniform, to figure out Abby'a case without Liu's advice, to do anything but fucking continue in solitary, but the idea of getting praise from Gibbons for solving such a hard cause, the idea of making your parents proud, the idea to prove to everyone at the Academy that you were capable of handling this internship blinded you from your body's judgment. So, as if your body went on autopilot, you started your journey down the halls.

The sound of the heavy boots of the uniform echoed throughout the hallway. Solitary was very bright and clean, walls perfectly white, and the lights lacked the ugly yellow tint the other parts of the prison had. It was such a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the prison. Not only that, but you haven't seen a single prisoner yet. All the rooms you walked past were either empty or locked, none of them had a single sign of life in there. So, it left you wondering, was anyone even supervising the prisoners? None of the rooms were labeled, none of them. No signs telling you were to go, nothing. So, if someone found you wondering around like a duckling without its mother, you'd be caught red handed.

"Hey! You!"

Flinching at the loud and sudden noise, you slowly turned around as you saw a woman dressed as a nurse power walking towards you.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to dealing with Jeffery."

"Jeffery?"

"Yes! Ever since he's came back from his interview with that intern he's been out of control. He bit a chunk out of Elisa's arm when she tried to give him his medication. And his behavior starting to get...Ben relied up, and we can't have that! I refuse to deal with that fucking freak again."

"Oh shit... Where's Jeffery right now?"

"In his room left of here, just follow the noise."

"Ok."

"Thanks. Now I have to deal with a few injured prisoners in the normal section, have Goosemen radio me if things get bad."

As the nurse walked off, or more so ran off, you quickly took a left and followed the faint noise of screams and laughter.

What you saw made a chill go down your spine.

Jeff was running around his room with three security personnel chasing him as a nurse yelled for Jeff to calm down. Unlike earlier, Jeff's mouth was bleeding, his shirt tied around his waist as he ran around, revealing the fresh scratches all around his arm and chest, and for a quick second, you saw the flash of something shiny on his back.

"Jeffery! Please sit down and take you medicine! Afterwards you'll be left alone for the night, ok!?" The nurse yelled as she waved a bottle a pill in the air. "We've been at this for hours...tasers don't work, pepper spray don't work, and we can't shoot him nor use fear..."

"Is this common?" You asked, catching the nurse's attention.

"When he first got here it was, but he hasn't acted like this in years. Even when he didn't take his medicine, he wouldn't act like this."

"Maybe he's getting bored," A guard commented, causing the nurse to nod her head in consideration.

"Maybe, or maybe it was that intern. I don't know what happened when they spoke, but maybe they said something to cause him to act like this," The nurse said, a look of annoyance written on her face.

The nurse's statement made your blood run cold. After all the events that happened in the past few hours, you were starting to accept the fact you weren't the most liked by the staff.

"What did I even do?" You thought, a look of hurt and confusion in your eyes. "They don't even know what I look like!"

"I'm going to talk to Mandel about getting them off this case, or even out of this section in general. I don't know what Gibbons sees in them, but things where running as smoothly as they can run until they showed up, and now all the prisoners are acting up."

"Fresh meat," The guard added, causing the nurse to chuckle.

"Fresh meat in deed, sharks they are."

"Hey, it's their first day, give the kid some slack. Once the prisoners get used to their presence they'll simmer down," You said, shifting your gaze over to the various cells in the hallway.

"I hope you're right."

As you looked at the various cells, one cell in particular stood out. It was at the very end of the hallway, the light right above it flickering rapidly. Not only was it locked with a different kind of door, instead having the ones with a simple hole with a few metal bars to peek through and a small hole to slide food in, the entire thing was closed, no one could peek in or out. It was also kept shut with a wheel, and alongside the wheel was a bunch of chains, each tie holding a different lock. Whatever the hell was in there, nobody wanted it getting out.

Suddenly, the sound of a large thump drew your attention away from the door. Lying down on the floor, Jeff was being pinned down by the three guards that were chasing him previously.

"Ugh...I'm tired," Jeff said as he let out a yawn.

Taking out the knife from the back of Jeff's waistband, one of the guards slide it over to the guard you were talking to prior, who then placed it in a zip lock bag.

"OK Jeff, just take these and we'll be done," The nurse said softly, trying her best to hide her agitation.

Based on the nurse's appearance, she was exhausted, not only physically, but mentally as well. Her eyes had dark purple bags, her hair was a mess, and her uniform as practically in shambles.

"Fine," Jeff mumbled before swallowing the two pills.

"Finally," The nurse said under her breath. "OK boys, get out."

As everyone cleared out the room, you made sure to be the very last person to leave. Once everyone turned the corner, you quickly made your way back to Jeff's cell. Peeking through the small section of bars, you watched as Jeff spat out the pills he just "swallowed."

"Airheaded bitch," Jeff joked as he let out a chuckle.

"Jeff," You whisper-yelled, causing Jeff to turn his head.

"Awww, you missed me," Jeff teased before making his ways to the bars.

"No. You got something of Liu's, give it."

"Took him long enough."

"Huh?"

"I took that idiot's scarf a week ago and now he wants it back? Is he slow?"

Walking over to his bed, Jeff lifted up the mattress and pulled out a black and grey scarf.

"Here, and tell him that he owes me big time," Jeff said before hitting the door two times, causing the sound to echo throughout the halls.

"Ok."

As you walked off, you heard Jeff burst into laughter.

"How crazy is he?" You thought.

Howver, you froze in your tracks at the sound of chains hitting the floor. Turning around ever so slowly, you saw a pile of chains and locks sitting infront of the door at the end of the hall.

You knew not to go knew it, your brain was sending you all the alarms.

"Leave it be," "Go back," "It has nothing to do with you."

Those words rung in your head over and over again, but your body started to move on its own. It was as if the door had a magnetic field to it that caused you to get closer and closer, your mind was begging for you to go back, but your body was consumed with curiosity.

Every day you wish you never took a step near that fucking door.

Picking up the chains, you examined the material. Pretty standard chains, amazing quality, but still standard.

As you looked up at the door, you felt your mind begin to fog up. As if you were a puppet on strings, your hands reached towards the wheel, and before you could process what was happening, the door was already open.

There was a single light bulb in the room, dangling from the ceiling. As the light bulb flashed, you could make out the figure of someone tied to a chair. However, the moment your body took a step into the room, closing the door behind you, the lights stilled, and you could control your body once more.

"What...?" You said, turning behind you.

Sitting in the chair was a man, couldn't be older than 25. His head was facing the floor, his blonde hair hiding his features, but it couldn't hide his pointed ears. Heavy chains were keeping him bound to the chair. There was no bed, no sink, no toilet, no trays, nothing. The room was completely bare, the only things taking up space was you, the chair, and him.

As if he could sense your fear, the man slowly lifted his head, his head remaining tilted to side as he looked at you. His bright green eyes bored into your soul. The chill that went down your spine was indescribable. And that smile. It was something you could never forget. The dilated pupils, his wide, sinister smile, and the crazed look on his face. It still gives you nightmares.

"What...are you."

You didn't even think about your words. Whoever he was, he wasn't human.

CRACK!

You flinched as the sound of chains hit the floor once more. He broke off his chains.

Gibbons never trained you for a situation like this, saying that they would teach you once you got a job in a prison. So, all you could do was stare, pushing yourself as far back against the wall as you could.

As he made his way towards you, you felt your life flash before your eyes. The only thing you could think about was never being able to show your parents your certificate from the academy, how they'd never see you walk across the stage, and the sight of them seeing you body in a casket.

As he stared down at you, all you could do was cry. But then, all you heard was...

Laughter?

Looking up, all you saw was him throwing his head back in laughter, clapping his hands as he did.

"YOU SHOULD SEE YOUR FACE!" The man yelled as he sat down in front of you, holding his stomach.

All fear you had was traded with confusion.

"...What?"

"You're, you're that intern, right?"

"Uh, no?"

"Liar," The man said before booking your nose. "You're hot for an intern."

"..."

Standing up, the man reached his hand out towards you. "Name's Ben."

You swore you had heard that name before, but you couldn't place your hands on where.

Taking his hand, Ben pulled you up with a suprising amount of strength. Due to the how hard he pulled you, you ended up stumbling into his arms, causing his to wrap his arms around your waist.

You knew better than to think this, but you couldn't ignore how attractive, or more so how cute he was. Despite being in prison, his hair was relatively neat, and his smile and freckles were adorable.

If only you knew...

"I, uh... I didn't mean to come in here."

"I know!"

"...How?"

"You got a phone in your, left, no, right back pocket, along with a keycard that you stole," Ben said before leaning in, a teasing but flirtous look in his eyes, "Pretty illegal Little Miss/Mr. Intern."

Oh my god you could die right now. You were never one to fall so easily for someone's advances, but the way he spoke, the look in his eyes, and the way his arms wrapped around your waist made you melt.

"Can I see your phone?"

"O-Ok."

You didn't even think twice.

What was he doing to you? You were always reasonable, you rarely allowed yourself to fall into such emotions.

It didn't matter how he made you feel or react, he's a criminal, and if his room was this this locked up, that meant he was dangerous from the rest. Despite how fogged up your mind was, that was the one thing that you could think straightly about.

While you were distracted by your conflicting emotions, Ben was quickly slipped your phone into the pockets of his pants.

"Why don't we take this off," Ben said before pulling the helmet off your head.

Now that he had a good look at your face, Ben could feel his smile only growing wider. Thoughts raced through his head as he looked at you.

Disgusting.

Suddenly, he kissed you. You wanted to push him away, tell him that you couldn't put this opportunity at risk, but you just couldn't. Instead, you leaned into it, your body moving on its own.

"No, no we can't...I can't lose this," You said as you pulled away from the kiss.

"No one's going go find out " Ben responded, pulling you closer. "No one comes in here anyways."

You shouldn't believe his words, he's a criminal, you know better. Don't let every Gibbons taught you be all for nothing.

"...ok."

As Ben kissed you again, much rougher this time, you felt your mind go blank. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, his hands taking off the guard uniform, your hands made their way under his shirt.

Stop. Stop now. Go back. Leave.

The two of you then sunk to the floor, you straddling his hips as he gripped your hair.

As his hands pulled down your pants, you felt as if none of this mattered. The internship you worked months to get. It just, didn't matter anymore. Your mind was blank.

The room then went black, the only thing you could see was his eyes. All you could feel was his hands roaming your body touching every last bit of you. All you could remember was you straddling his lap, one of his hands holding your arms back as his other gripped your hair, forcing you into a kiss. You felt everything. And it all felt sooooo...painfully good.

"M-Mh fuck baby~ I ain't ever gonna stop..."

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

You never hated yourself more.

The entire event was a blur. Your mind and body weren't even on the same page, hell, they weren't even reading the same book. You didn't even feel like yourself during the whole endevour, it felt as if someone was wearing your skin, acting as you while you watched from the outside.

You had the power to stop it, you were an officer afterall. But the look he gave you, the touches, the words of reassurance, it was all intoxicating and so painfully mind numbing.

Did you even want it? You didn't even know. Moments before, when you felt in control of yourself, all you could feel was fear. He wasn't safe, he wanted to hurt you, but why didn't he? You were right there.

You didn't want to see him again, not at all. He was fucking with your head. You can't trust him, but anytime he's around it's as if all logic and sense leaves your body. You were completely at his will and he barely had to try.

But, something about him made him addicting. The way he's making you feel isn't normal, the way you so blindly opened the door wasn't normal, the patchy memories weren't normal. HE WASN'T NORMAL. He's doing this to you, but how?

"Y/N!"

Shooting up, you were no longer in solitary, but instead you were back in your office. Liu's scarf was placed neatly on you lap, and on your desk was you phone.

Standing at the desk was a very tired, but concerned Mandel.

"Ma'am?"

"I came in to check on you two hours ago, but you weren't here. Came back an hour ago, still not here. Came back five minutes ago, still not here. But when I come back now, FAST ASLEEP. Where. Were. You."

"...I was...I... I was trying to get my TV back from a guard..."

"One, for two hours? And two, who gave you one to begin with?"

"Um...Yeah, and I don't know..." "...Ugh...Wait, why the hell do you have a phone?" "Why wouldn't I?"

"Our prison doesn't allow tech due to a certain inmate."

"Why?" You asked, your blood going cold.

"He's able to control any kind of technology in a twenty-five mile radius. He's able to travel from tech to tech, he's one of our nonhuman inmates."

"What is he?"

Mandel looked around in the hallway before fully entering the room.

"We're not allowed to talk about him...but I'll tell you," Mandel said before taking a seat in front of you. "I won't say names, but he's a ghost. He was sacraficed by a cult, and came back as a vengeful spirt. He died relatively young based off what he told us, but he seems to be aging even as ghost. The longer we keep him, the harder it is to keep him under control. Not only that, but he's getting stronger too."

"...Will I be interacting with him at all?"

"What?! No! Are you crazy? You may be handling the Abbie Grace case, but he is far too dangerous for you. He's already on death row, Y/N, have you noticed that no one else is despite their crimes? I want you to focus on this case and nothing else. I don't want you interacting with inmates outside of the ones I assign you," Mandel said before leaning into your face, her eyes glaring into yours. "And I'll know if you do."

"...Y-Yes ma'am."

Picking up a file on the table, Mandel skimmed through the folder before speaking to you. "How did Toby's interview go?"

"Ma'am, have any of you guys thought of the possibility that Abbie still might be alive?"

Mandel's posture immediately straightened as she looked up at you, the atmosphere of the room changing into a more serious tone. Lowering the file, Mandel spoke, "What happened?"

"Getting Tobias to talk was a challenge. He kept teasing and refused to corporate. I asked him a few questions just to get a rough idea on his personality and patterns, just to get to know him better," You replied, sitting up straight as you played with the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. "When I bought up Jeff he finally started talking. Gibbons taught me to look into the way someone spoke, and when Tobias was talking about Abbie, he was talking about her in the present tense. When I asked him if she was dead, he said that he never said she wasn't."

Mandel's eyes widened in shock after you spoke. You neve saw Mandel so expressive due to her face being caught in constant exhaustion. "Never... We never found her body so we assumed she was dead. But, I'm not sure if we can take his word for it."

"How so?"

"He may not look like it, but Toby is a pretty good liar, anything he says we take with a grain of salt."

"Who else if involved in the case?"

"Jeff, Toby, and this Boss character from what we know."

"What if we get someone besides Toby to tell us if she's dead or not?"

"Hm... Jeff might, but his awnsers really depends on his mood."

"What about this Boss guy?"

"Here's the thing, we don't know who he is."

"What? What do you mean?"

"We've caught every pasta we know of, except for the guy they call Boss. But, there's also the possibility that the Boss isn't just one guy. Based off what we know about the proxies, one of their bosses is a man known as Slenderman, but we don't even know if he's real. He's only a legend, there's no picture of him, nor has he committed any acts himself. But, when Timothy and Brian first got here, they heavily implied that there way another boss. They didn't say any names, but that's what they implied. We also don't know if they're all working for the same boss. When Jeff calls someone the Boss, he can be talking about a completely different person than Toby," Mandel stated before hiding her face in her hands. "This case in so confusing..."

"Tell me about it," You said before looking up at Mandel. "So, what should we do?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, if Toby's right, this changes how we'll go about the case. It wouldn't be a murder case anymore but instead a missing person's."

"How we'll go about it isn't much of your concern. As you have interviews with the suspects, we're also having interviews with them as well, just to compare and contrast statements and behaviors. Keep in mind, you're still in training, and this is an internship afterall. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I knowww, but this is such an exciting experience! I've been trusted to work with the worst criminals in the country, it's truly an honor."

"It's an honor til your working 22 hour shifts," Mandel stated bluntly before opening a redbull that she pulled out of her pockets. "I'm going to leave you to your devices."

"Is their anything you want me to do in particular?"

"Hmmm... Ask Chief Salloum for some evidence we collected on Abbie's case, I want you to look into and see if there's one, any clues on where she can be if she's still alive, and two, just look for anything you think is important. In the mean time, I'll try to get you an interview with Jeffery by the end of the week."

"OK Ma'am. Also, um, where can I find Chief Salloum?'

"Salloum is next to Banklin's Office. Salloum is leading the investigation while Banklin is handling the officers, he might have some information, but I'm not entirely sure," Mandel stated as she opened the door, "Good luck, Kiddo."

As the door closes after Mandel, you didn't even notice how long you were holding your breath for. What Mandel said about this ghost inmate really sent your mind into a frenzy. Whoever he was, they clearly wanted to keep him a secret.

"OK. Should I meet up with Liu or Salloum?" You asked yourself as you looked down at Liu's scarf.

After interacting wuth the Woods brothers, you couldn't help but notice how different they were from each other. Jeff was loud, perverted, sadistic, playful, and emotional, while Liu was more quiet and reserved, but his behavior was flipping. When you first met Liu, he was playful and painfully teasing, but when you met with him again at the cells, he was quiet and acted like he didn't want to speak with you at all. To be honest, you didn't know what was scarier, Jeff's weird unapologetic personality, or Liu's bipolar one.

"Liu."

Standing up from your desk, you wasted no time as you made your way back to the inmate quarters.

Checking the time in your phone, you noticed that it was 2AM. When you got here with Gibbons, it was around 6 or 7, and based on the waiver and contract Gibbons had you sign, you wouldn't be let out til 7AM.

As you walked towards the door of the quarters, you flinched at the sound of banging on the glass. Turning your head, you felt yourself ease up as you made eye contact with a pair of dark green eyes.

Raising up the scarf, you could feel Liu smile from beyond the glass. Liu's smile was different from everyone else's, it was soft, it was genuine.

Entering the quarters, Liu was waiting for you on the other side. Handing him the scarf, he stared at it for a bit before putting it on.

"Fucking asshole."

"Sorry it took so long, stuff came up."

Liu only glanced at you before rolling his eyes.

"This isn't even all of it," Liu said bluntly.

"What? This is all Jeff gave me. What else does he have"

"My gun."

"...oh... So uh, deals off?"

Liu didn't say another word as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you towards a cell.

"...ugh," A voice from the top bunk said.

Looking up, all you saw was the top half of Toby's body dangling from the top bunk.

"Are you drunk?" Liu asked honestly, poking at the man's face.

"Maybeeeee," Toby said before reaching out to Liu, making kissing noises as he did.

"Go to bed, Tobias," Liu said, pushing Toby's body back onto his bed. "Got any more?"

"Under the desk," Toby said as he face planted into his pillow.

Picking up the bottle, Liu sat down on the bed as he opened it. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything you know."

"Pretty vague to be honest."

"Alright then... What did you do to Abbie?"

"Even more vague."

"How?!"

"Cause I said so," Liu said before taking a sip of his alcohol, hiding his amusement as Toby giggled.

"He ain't telling you shit!" Toby yelled before bursting out into laughter.

"Shut up, Ticci," Liu said.

"Don't call me that," Toby slurred.

"Whatever."

"Enough! I don't have time for this. Where is Abbie?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know."

"I wasn't the last one to have her."

"Last one?! How many people was she with?"

"Too vague."

This man was going to be the death of you.

Groaning into your hands, you thought about your most important question.

"Is he awake?" You asked, pointing to Toby.

Peeking over the bunk, Toby was sound asleep, snoring into his pillow as he did.

"No."

"...Is Abbie Grace alive?"

That was the first time you saw a reaction from Liu. The best you could describe his face was stumped.

"Why you ask?"

"Just awnser the question."

Liu's face went back to his numb expression before glancing upwards.

Without saying another word, Liu nodded his head. That was all the conformation you needed.

"Where is she, Liu."

"I don't know, and this isn't an interview, so I have no obligation to anwser."

"How would you feel if I told the head of this side that you have a gun in your possession?"

"One, you don't even know who that is, two, I don't have it, Jeff does, and three, how would you feel if I told Mandel that not only did you sneak into here, did a favor for a prisoner, but you also slept with one as well?" Liu said, leaning in so close to your face that your noses were just barely touching. "That's pretty punishable."

You felt your blood run cold, and he could see it on your face.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Liu said before pushing himself against the wall. "Don't talk all big when your small, sweetie."

"How did you know..."

"Know what?"

"W-What you just said."

"I didn't say anything."

Both of you knew what he said; you could see the amusement in his eyes.

"Ooooo, what'll happen if Banklin finds out that the intern slept with dear old Benjamin...Intership go bye bye," Liu joked, waving his hand before laughing. "Don't worry, I won't tell if you don't. Secret safe."

You never thought you'd be blackmailed by a prisoner, but today was already full of surprises.

"Now, is that all, princess/princie?"

"...Yeah."

"Don't be so sad," Liu said before grabbing your face with his hands, his touch being painfully soft. "You're the only one."

You felt sick to your stomach.

Standing up as fast as you could, you quickly made your way out of the room; Liu's giggles echoing throughout the halls.

You were so dumb.

You were supposed to logical, practical, and you normally were, but ever since you stepped into to this hell hole it was as if a switch was flipped in your head. You would never be making these many mistakes. Gibbons would kill you if he found out, but you just wanted to make him proud, he's worked his ass off to get you here, you didn't want to waste it.

"What's wrong with me?"

"OW!"

You were so caught up in your train of thought that you failed to notice the man in front of you.

"Oh I, I'm sorry. Let me help you," You said, quickly bending down to help the man pick up his files.

Pushing up his glasses, the man revealed a soft smile.

"No no, it's ok. You're the intern, correct?"

"Um, yes!"

"What's your name, kiddo?" The man asked as he started to walk towards the offices.

"Y/N L/N, sir."

"Call me Salloum. I'm one of the leaders of the case we're having you look into. How is that going?"

"It's been a Rollercoaster to say the least."

Salloum pulled a key out of his pocket as he opened the door to his office. "Hm... How so?"

"I thought I had the case figured out. But, when I was interviewing Tobias he said something interesting. "

Sitting down at his desk, Salloum pulled out a small notebook as he leaned back into his chair, placing his feet on desk in the process. His tired, empty eyes stared into your young, stressed ones as he looked at you and his notebook. "I'm listening."

"He implied that Abbie Grace is still alive."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"He implied-"

"No I know I know! It's just. Fuck! How could we miss that, how could we overlook that? How could I overlook that?"

"Um, Salloum..."

"Not now kid, just. Ugh. Thank you for bring this to my attention, but I need you to leave now. There's a lot of stuff I need to get done."

"Yes, yes, of course, of course."

Once you got back to your office, all you did was sit down and think. It was all so overwhelming.

However, all you could feel were hands roaming all of your body as you zoned out entirely. Faded whispered slowly growing louder and louder as your body went limp.

You don't even know.

Such a good girl/boy you are.

You're mine now...

My perfect little whore.

You're so pathetic.

Stupid.

Dumbass.

Useless.

Useless..

Useless...

USELESS!

What did he do to you. It wasn't natural. You weren't in control. You were a puppet. He controlled you. But why? Why you? For what reason? Why does he have your phone? Should you tell Mandel? Why are you crying? Why are you shaking? Why is the world spinning?

BEN. The most dangerous inmate in the entire prison. His power: technological manipulation.

You were so stupid. Did you really forget, or did his control fog your mind? But if he did control you, how?

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to go home for the night. Now. You needed to leave now. He couldn’t reach you if you left, right? He couldn't touch you again, he couldn’t control you again, he can't hurt you again if you leave. You'll come back tomorrow with a fresh mind and be ready for work. Yes. Yes. Just, leave.

"Miss," You said as you walked into Mandel's office.

"Yes?" Mandel responded, not looking up from her paperwork.

"I need to go home."

"What? Now? Your shift isn't even..."

As Mandel looked up at you, her words froze. You looked tired. Traumatized. Souless. You looked done.

"Kid what happen?" Mandel asked, standing up as she made your way towards you.

"I need to go home for the night."

"Look at me kid, what happened."

"...home... I want to go home," You stuttered out as you burst out into tears. "I'll be back tomorrow I promise but I need to go home."

Mandel just stared at you before nodding in approval. She got you an Uber and you were able to get a ride back to your dormitory at the Academy.

"Hey! You're back early, how'd it go?" Your roommate asked as you walked in.

However, you just walked past them, closing the door to your room as you plopped down onto your bed.

You were exhausted to say the least. You didn't even notice you fell asleep. But, for some reason you woke up in the middle of the night. You were still kind of sleepy so you weren't fully aware of your surroundings, but after some complicating of whether or not you should get out of bed, you slowly became aware to the sound of a TV.

Looking at your clock you saw that it was 4:45 AM.

"Lillian's never up this late," You grumbled as you stood up.

Your position on the bed was kind of awkward. Your upper body was laying on the bed while your legs dangled onto the floor.

"Lillian, can you turn it down please?" You asked as you rubbed your eyes, standing infront of your door as you faced the TV.

But, much to your suprise, no one was there. The TV was the only source of light in the entire room, and playing on it was just static.

"...I'm too tired for this," You mumbled before grabbing the remote.

But, the TV wouldn't turn off. No matter how many times you slammed down on the button the static would just continue.

"Are the batteries dead or something?" You asked yourself as you examined the remote.

In the back of your head you knew something was wrong. But, all you wanted was to get a normal night's rest and in the morning you could go back to work like nothing happened.

In what little time you were at the prison for you were able to deduce one thing. That place was full of secrets. Secrets that everyone knew but were never brave enough to discuss. Everyone you interacted with just held this vibe of uncertainty, anxiety, fear. It was like everyone knew that this place wasn't secure, and it didn't look like it either. What kind of prison doesn't have cameras? Or evenbetter, what kind of prison holds some of Americas most dangerous serial killers all in the same prison, in the block, knowing damn well that all of them are acquainted with one another.

If you were any other intern you would've just quit the moment this happened, but you were just any other intern. There was a reason on why there were here, a deeper reason. A reason that surpassed even government control. Maybe you were better off being a detective. Maybe you wouldn't be where you are now.

Rotting away. With Mom and Pa staring at you from the other side.

I should've quit.

"Nope, nothing wrong with the remote," You said before setting it back down. "Imma just put my headphones in."

But, as you turned around, you felt your blood run cold as you heard an all too familiar voice come from the TV.

"Baby~"

That glitchy, raunchy, mocking voice. You didn't dare turn around.

"Awwww, don't be scared."

Footsteps.

How? How the hell did he get here? How did he escape without anyone noticing?

Hands....hands. You felt his arms wrap around your waist as you leaned onto you. It felt as if he was towering over you.

"I ain't gonna hurt you," Ben said before placing something in your hand. "Just wanted to return this."

Your phone. A part of you just wanted to throw it out of your dorm window, something about it just didn't feel right, but, you stopped yourself. You didn't have the money to just buy a new one, and this was the only way you can communicate with your parents.

"How'd you get out...?" You asked.

"Oh, I'm not here. You see, I can travel a little bit of my soul to anywhere I want within my technological reach. I'm like a little hallucination while my body remains in my cell. I could come here right now if you want."

That voice. That feeling. Your world started spinning.

Not again.

"Have a little fun," Ben whispered, rubbing your arm as he talked. "We could do way more here than out there... You'll be fucking screaming."

Stop.

Your mind and body was fogged up. You couldn't think, you couldn't move.

But suddenly, you felt normal again. All of a sudden you came back to your senses and pushed him off you.

"No! I don't want any of this. Go back before I file a report that you escaped."

"What is that going to do? I can just report that you had sex with an inmate. That's pretty immoral, Y/N."

He wasn't wrong. But, Liu told you this wasn't the first time something like this happened, so maybe you'd have a chance at saving your career.

"I'm not the immoral one. Go. I don't want to see you again, you hear me?"

All he did was laugh. That glitchy, high pitched laugh...

"Loud and clear!"

You watched as Ben floated back into the TV, causing it to shut off completely.

Exhausted, you made your way back to your bed. As you laid down in your bed all you could think about was Abbie. Despite the Rollercoaster you had today all you could think about was her. She was out there somewhere. Sad, scared, alone. You had to look into it more tomorrow. You had to get a sit down with Toby and break him. Maybe you could look more into his file and figure out some weaknesses you could exploit. Out of everyone you talked to, he seemed like he'd be the most easy to crack. Jeff is too violent, trying to crack him would probably leave you with a cracked skull. Liu is way too unpredictable. Sometimes he's wacky, sometimes he's quiet, sometimes he's cold, sometimes he's compliant, sometimes he wants to just fuck with you point blank.

Plus, Toby was pretty interesting to talk to. A little manic, a little unhinged, but he had a surprising amount of life and personality to him. Charming? No. Chaotic and fun? Definitely. Maybe a talk with him can lighten up your mood. You still had to figure out how to talk to him. He was the inmate you wanted to have a bond with. An inmate who trusted you and would be honest with you. An inmate you could rely on.

You made up your mind. You were going to talk with Toby.

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

"Feeling better, kid?" Mandel asked as you walked into her office.

"Much better," You said as you sat down in front of her. "Ma'am, I'd like to have a meeting with Toby today."

"Why?"

"I talked it over with Salloum and I'm pretty sure I got the go to dig into deeper."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

No you were not.

"OK, I'll have him ready by 10."

You knew lying to Mandel was going to bite you in the ass later, but you had to do what you had to do. Some of the best officers are considered the best because they did things differently, or at least that's what Gibbons taught you.

You spent the next three hours analyzing your interview with Toby. You analyzed his awnsers and behavior in order to come up with a solid approach.

You were able to come up with a series of questions that weren't too obvious in showing your motives. One thing you learned about Toby was that he was stubborn, and you had to navigate through that. Was it going to be easy, of course not! This man is the definition of a maniac.

Back to room 111.

You sat there anxiously as you heard footsteps slowly approaching.

"Don't make me regret this, don't make me regret this," You mumbled to yourself.

Rule number 1.

As the door opened, your breath hitched as you met the manic gaze of Tobias Erin Rogers. As he eagerly took a seat in front of you, you watched as the door closed behind you.

Now it was just you and Toby.

Always take what Toby says with a grain of salt.

"How are you doing Toby?" You asked, organizing your question paper as he talked.

"Pretty shitty *WOWIE* until I heard I was talking to you today," He said with grin on his face, leaning into the palm of his hand as he looked at you with admiration.

Hell, don't even consider it.

"That's good I suppose. Now, you want to get straight to it or would you like to talk about your night first?"

"...Straight to it."

No matter how believable he seems.

"OK, so."

Because he's always five steps ahead.

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

Tags: @fexthehetalialover @asimpforlife134 @my-jukebox @ch3rrydr34ms @crejia @mspoisoncoil @bruhimsoinlove @imwallysdarling @idkisimptoomuch @noclue-0 @chexrybloss0m @refrigeranteborbulhante @tak0truc @br-que-ama-yanderes @bruhimsoinlove @constantine559 @jamja @srt-buu2 @ghostwriter54 @elevenbts @officaljackmiles

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

the old college try

pairing: frat dad!joel miller x college student!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 5.1k

summary:

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned house parties on frat row following the game. It’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang. Literally. Enter Joel Miller, handsome single dad visiting his son at the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house.

dear reader:

this is an extremely self-indulgent fic that i just had to write, so i hope you enjoy it! if you do, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

content warnings:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), alternate universe - no outbreak/no sarah, age difference (42M and 23F), dub con - sex under the influence of alcohol, no use of y/n, frat party stereotypes, keg stands and beer pong, semi-public sex (frat bathroom), mild daddy kink (not during sex), p in v, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, cheesy dad jokes, the university of texas as a plot device. please let me know if any are missing!

You turn over in your bed with a deep groan, burying your face into your pillow. You reach your arm out from under the covers to grab your phone from the nightstand, smacking your hand around the wood surface until you find it and can bring it under the covers with you. Turning over, you tap the screen and squint at the series of unread text messages.

Ashley: Get up bitch! 

Ashley: It’s time to get ready!

Ashley: We’re going to be late if you don’t get up

Ashley: Don’t make me break into your apartment

Ashley: You know I can

You sit up quickly, shoving the blankets off of you and rushing to the front door, flipping the lock and pulling it open. Your best friend is across the threshold, knelt down on the ground with two bobby pins held up and her eyes wide in surprise.

“Aw man,” she laments, standing and brushing off her knees. “I wanted to test my skills.”

“I’m not paying to replace the lock,” you chastise, stepping back to let her in. “Sorry, overslept.”

“Figured. I’ll get your coffee started,” she replies, heading for your kitchen while you head back to your bedroom to start your morning routine. “Guess which frat is hosting the tailgate today?”

“Which one?” You shout from the bathroom as you run through your skincare routine.

“Theta Lambda Upsilon,” Ashley shouts back. The scent of brewing coffee paired with this excellent news has you perking up immediately. 

Your friend steps into your room with two mugs in her hands, passing one to you as you exit the bathroom and sit at your cluttered vanity, pushing aside products to make room to set your mug down. Ashley sits on your bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“The hottest frat hosting the tailgate and after party means we’ll get to see the hottest dads this weekend,” she says, shimmying her shoulders excitedly. “It’s simple genetics.”

“You dropped genetics. Remember? You couldn’t handle an 8 am class,” you say as you apply mascara. 

“I went to enough classes to know how a Punnett square works.”

You laugh, finishing your makeup between long sips of coffee. “It’s amazing you couldn’t tough it out through an early semester but give you an afternoon game and you’re trying to break into my apartment at the crack of dawn.”

“It’s DILF Day, baby. It’s like waking up on Christmas morning.”

Family Weekend, or DILF Day as you and your friends like to refer to it, is when the University of Texas encourages the parents and families of its student body to visit the school and participate in activities that the Division of Student Affairs has organized. The fraternities and sororities have their own schedule that includes not-so-sanctioned tailgates and house parties on frat row following the game.

As an out-of-state student, your parents have always skipped Family Weekend in exchange for buying your plane tickets back home for Thanksgiving and Christmas break, which leaves you with plenty of opportunity to ogle the hot dads that descend upon campus on this glorious weekend. You’ve never had the guts to actually pursue anything with anyone, but it’s your senior year and your last DILF Day so you’re hoping to go out with a bang.

Literally.

“What are you going to wear?” Ashley asks. 

“Shorts and that new tank top I got,” you reply, finishing your makeup with a pop of your lips after applying gloss. “And boots. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Ashley nods as you rifle through your closet for the outfit in question - denim cutoffs and orange Texas Longhorn tank top that hugs your curves and shows off the perfect amount of cleavage. Finishing the look with your worn brown cowgirl boots, you spin for your friend who gives you a thumbs up. “Sexy. I reckon’ this year you’ll catch yourself a DILF.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Joel’s arm hangs out the truck’s open window, fingers tapping against the hot metal as he drives down the highway towards the Austin campus of the University of Texas. It’s Family Weekend and his son, Sean, started his sophomore semester at UT a few weeks prior and now lives in the Theta Lambda Upsilon fraternity house on campus after proving to Joel that he would take his classes seriously by doing well his freshman year. Joel’s always been close with his son as a single dad and the fact that Sean asked him to Family Weekend feels like a testament to that bond.

The campus is already bustling with the game day crowd, trucks parked in grassy areas along the road with their tailgates down, people setting up tents and tables and coolers. Joel drives slowly down the street until he’s turning down a side road and parking down the hidden drive his son had given him instructions to find. He hops from the truck, sneakers hitting the hot pavement and the sun already beating down on his arms as he makes his way towards the TLU house a couple blocks away. 

There’s a huge crowd of students and parents in shades of burnt orange and white on the front lawn of the two story fraternity house, red solo cups or cans of beer in hand. Joel looks around until he hears a familiar voice calling out, “Dad!”

Sean emerges from the crowd dressed in a white polo shirt with an orange Longhorn logo on the chest tucked into khaki pants, his curly brown hair slicked back with gel. Joel smiles, hugging his son and patting him on the back in greeting.

“Been ages since I saw you, kid. Have you gotten taller?” Joel asks.

Sean rolls his eyes. “You saw me last weekend!”

A voice calls out Sean’s name and the younger man throws an arm around Joel’s shoulders, dragging him along into the packed fraternity house. The scene inside is not unlike all the ones he’s seen in movies and TV shows - flags stuck to the walls as decor, a mysteriously sticky floor, and kitchen countertops filled with booze. Sean stops and grabs a red plastic cup, handing it to Joel. 

“Pick your poison,” Sean instructs, grabbing his own cup. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Last I checked, you weren’t twenty-one,” he chastises, earning him another eye roll. 

“Like you didn’t know Uncle Tommy was buying me beer when I was a senior.”

“He what?” Joel asks, though the question is lost in the noise as Sean leads him to an impressive back deck hosting a beer pong table and two kegs nestled in plastic trash cans and surrounded by ice. 

Sean slips into the crowd surrounding the kegs, taking Joel’s cup from his hands, pumping the tap and filling each cup with ice cold beer, handing one to Joel. 

“Go Longhorns,” Sean says, tapping his cup to Joel’s and chugging the contents. Joel watches his twenty-year-old son with wide eyes and a torn conscience. 

“This is what I’m payin’ tuition for, huh?” He teases, taking a single sip of the cheap beer. A cheer erupts from behind him and he turns to look at what’s causing so much excitement.

You and a friend are at one end of a plastic folding table, glaring daggers at two boys at the other end, a single solo cup set on the table in front of you. You have a white ping pong ball held delicately between two fingers, your other hand propped on your hip as you squint one eye shut to take your aim for the cup that sits in front of the boys. You let the ball fly and it sinks into the cup, another cheer going through the small crowd gathered around you as you jump up and down excitedly.

Sean approaches the boys, slapping one of them on the shoulder. One of them shouts, “Redemption shot!”

“Oh, please! You can’t aim for shit, Chad!” You shout back. 

“Celebrity shot, then!” He suggests. The boy, Chad, reaches out to pull an older man to his side. “Dad edition!”

Your eyes scan the crowd, landing on Joel. You wave him over, the older man glancing around briefly before pointing to himself to confirm. You nod, smile bright as he approaches.

“I need a daddy for this celebrity shot, you wanna do the honors?” You ask sweetly. Joel swallows nervously, face heating at the suggestive tone and look you’re giving him. 

“Come on, dad!” Sean calls out. “Show ‘em what a Miller man can do!”

“Yeah,” you chime in. “Show me what a Miller man can do.”

“Alright, fine,” Joel acquiesces, moving to stand beside you. You slip a ping pong ball into his hand, standing so close beside him that your bare arm brushes his as you both watch Chad’s dad take aim for the single cup. 

The ball soars through the air, hitting the rim of the cup and bouncing off onto the table, rolling to the ground as the men groan. He feels you place a hand on his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you whisper, “Come on, Mr. Miller. You’re my only hope.”

It doesn’t escape Joel’s notice that you keep your hand on his shoulder as he takes aim and throws the ball across the table, sinking it into the cup. You’re throwing your arms around his shoulders in celebration as the people around you shout excitedly. On instinct, Joel’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you close for a brief moment before coming to his senses and taking a step back.

“Thanks,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. “I’m going to go inside for a drink. You want anything? I’ve got a stash of IPAs in a friend’s fridge upstairs if you want something better than Miller Lite. Consider it a thank you for winning me bragging rights over Chad.”

Joel should say no. He shouldn’t be taking up drink offers from someone half his age, but you’re giving him another devastating smile that has his resolve folding faster than a lawn chair in a hurricane.

“Sure.”

The hottest man you’ve ever seen is currently following you upstairs to your friend Craig’s room for a beer. He’s tall and tan with sweet brown eyes and dark hair that looks like it would be a dream to run your fingers through. His broad chest and toned biceps press deliciously at the confines of the white UT Longhorns shirt he’s wearing. When he stepped up beside you to throw your celebrity shot at the beer pong table downstairs, you’d noted that his left hand featured no wedding band or a tan line of one left behind.

You reach the second floor and head for the last door on the right, marked with a PRESIDENT plaque. You reach into the pocket for the key Craig had given you earlier and let yourself inside, heading for the mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two Yellow Rose IPA cans. 

“So,” you say, handing the man one of the drinks. “You got a name, or should I keep calling you Mr. Miller?”

“It’s Joel,” he says, taking a long sip of the beer. You watch the muscles of his throat work, longing to press your lips against the tan skin. 

You tell him your name, holding a hand out to him for a handshake. His grip is tight, sturdy, and for a brief moment you think about how his sure, thick fingers would feel deep inside of you. He looks around the room curiously as he pulls his hand back.

“Craig and I have been friends since freshman year,” you explain. “I helped him pass calculus, he lets me keep my beer out of the grubby hands of his frat brothers.”

“Calculus, huh?” He asks, taking another sip. “Must mean you’re pretty smart.”

“Just a basic engineering prerequisite,” you joke. 

“Engineering? That’s impressive.”

You take a seat on Craig’s bed, crossing one leg over the other. Joel’s eyes track the movement and you smile, giddy at the attention. “What do you do, Mr. Miller?”

“Thought you were gonna call me Joel?” 

“Mm, I can think of a few things to call you.”

Joel nearly spits his mouthful of beer out, choking on the bitter drink. You rush towards him, patting him on the back as he coughs. After a moment of fighting for breath, the man seems to realize how close you are, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, trailing down to your chest. 

You lean in a little closer, pressing yourself to him and you think this might be it, Joel Miller might be the DILF of your dreams as he leans into you as well. 

But the doorknob rattles and the door swings open, Joel jumping back in surprise as both of you turn to look at the doorway. Craig leans against the frame, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, looking between you and Joel. “Ashley’s lookin’ for you downstairs. We’re headin’ to the stadium now.”

“I better find Sean, then,” Joel says. Craig’s eyes light up.

“You’re Miller’s dad? Hey, man, nice to finally meet you. I’m Craig, TLU president.” The men shake hands, patting each other on the back. “Sean’s a good kid, we’re happy to have him.”

“Good to hear,” Joel replies. 

“Well, guess I’ll go find Ashley.” You place a hand on Joel’s shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Miller. Maybe I’ll see you later?” You let your hand trail down the man’s bicep as you leave and you watch his throat work around a nervous swallow.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “See you later.”

The Longhorns pull off an impressive win, a 49-0 blowout against Oklahoma that has the entire campus celebrating with abandon. If Joel thought the TLU house was packed for the tailgate, that crowd was nothing compared to the after game party. More alcohol, more people, and more noise is packed into the house. Joel sticks close to Sean, meeting more of his frat brothers and their parents with shouted introductions. 

When the stale air inside the house gets too overwhelming, Sean leads him to the deck. More kegs have appeared and his son bumps him with his shoulder, nodding towards where a few people are gathered around one, a man hoisted upside down by two people gripping his legs as he chugs directly from the keg tap. He spits the valve out as the crowd shouts a chorus of, “Twenty!”

“I bet you could do better,” Sean says. Joel raises an eyebrow at him.

“I know what you’re doin’, kid, and it ain’t gonna work,” Joel replies. Sean puts his hands up.

“I’m not doin’ anythin’. But if you’re too scared, you can tell me.”

“I’m not scared.” 

“Hey, my dad’s got next!” Sean shouts, dragging Joel through the crowd with an arm around his shoulders. Joel tries to argue but a familiar face in the crowd has the words dying on his tongue. You wiggle your fingers at him in a wave and suddenly he has the motivation to execute the most impressive keg stand of his life.

Joel grabs the cold handles of the keg, Sean and one of his fraternity brothers lifting him into the air so that he’s suspended upside down over the barrel of beer. People begin counting, shouting numbers as he attempts to focus on the beer flooding his mouth and drinking it down steadily. It’s been a long time since he’s done one of these, probably before Sean was even born, but if there’s one thing Joel has never been, it's a quitter.

After what feels like forever he spits the valve out with a gasp and he gets lowered back to ground as the crowd shouts, “Thirty-four!”

Sean’s frat brothers jump around him excitedly, hands patting him on the back and cheering his name. He laughs as Sean starts yelling, “That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!”

Movement from the corner of his eye catches his attention and he turns his head just in time to see you disappear into the house. He tells Sean he’ll be back in a minute and follows after you, craning his neck to scan the mass of bodies crammed inside until he spots you on the stairs. 

When he finally manages to reach the stairs, he’s surprised to find them roped off at the bottom. Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to him, he ducks beneath the barrier, taking the steps two at a time. The second floor is dark and empty but light spills into a hall from beneath the last door marked PRESIDENT.

Joel knocks on the wood, his head a little light from the rush of alcohol in his system but it has him feeling good. 

Confident. 

Maybe a little too confident because when you open the door, he wraps an arm around your waist, pushing his way inside as his lips find yours, a little noise of surprise swallowed by him as his tongue explores yours.

He comes to his senses when your teeth nip at his bottom lip, jarring him back to a reality where he is a mature adult who thinks with his brain and not his dick. He grips you on the shoulders, breaking the kiss and holding you at arm's length.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t even ask if it was okay to kiss you, just came bargin’ in here like a bull in a goddamn china shop and you probably don’t even want—“

“Joel?” You interrupt. He blinks.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Kiss me again.”

Joel kisses you again, but pulls away a second time to ask, “Wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” you reply, giggling as he mutters a low thank god before pulling you back into his arms. It’s another short lived kiss, the man leaning back once more as you huff in annoyance.

“Wait, how much have you had to drink?” He asks this time. 

“Less than you, Mr. Thirty-Four-Second Keg Stand,” you answer. He gives you a smirk that has your stomach doing somersaults. 

“You liked that, huh?” 

His hands slip into the back pockets of your shorts and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the feel of your lips against his. Your heart is racing as he pulls you even closer and runs his hands up your back, warm palms exploring your curves like he’s trying to map them to memory.

You’re lost enough in each other that the sound of the door opening doesn’t register until an upset voice is saying, “Ugh, come on! No fucking in my room!”

“Shit,” you yelp, tearing yourself away from Joel. Craig is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. You grab Joel’s hand and tug him towards the door of the en-suite bathroom, pulling him inside and slamming the door behind you, flipping the lock.

“Hey, wait a minute—“

“It’s not your room, Craig!” You yell through the wood. There’s a muffled curse from the other side.

“Condoms are under the sink,” he shouts back. You grin victoriously at Joel, who’s laughing so hard he has a hand pressed to his chest. You step up to him, grabbing that hand and bringing it around your waist.

“You sure about this?” Joel asks seriously, stepping forward until he’s crowding you against the door. You tilt your head up to look at his handsome face, his dark eyes so intense as he searches your face that you feel giddy.

“I mean, the location isn’t ideal, but at least Craig keeps his bathroom pretty clean,” you joke, noting the clear counter space and surprising lack of dirty clothing littering the floor. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart. You sure about doing this with me?”

You reach up, tangling your fingers into his soft curls, pulling him close until your lips graze his as you respond, “I’m so fucking sure.”

Whatever tether of control Joel had been holding onto seems to snap with your words, the man kissing you so roughly that all you can do is hold on, your fingers curling desperately against his scalp as his tongue dives into your mouth and tangles with yours. He tastes like beer and smells like a mixture of cedar and sweat, the combination intoxicating as he presses close and surrounds you with it.

Joel trails his lips across your jaw, nipping your earlobe before continuing down your neck. He sucks the thin skin over your pulse before soothing the sting with his tongue as you writhe against him, gasping at the sensation. You can feel his smile against your shoulder and as he presses a thigh between your legs, you get a brief feel of his hard cock behind the barrier of his basketball shorts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls, hands trailing across your curves until he’s gripping one of your breasts, squeezing tightly.

“Not so bad yourself,” you moan. He chuckles darkly.

“The mouth on you.” He reaches two fingers into the low neck of your tank top, dragging it down over your breasts. He yanks the cups of your bra down in a similar fashion, the fabric bunched beneath your chest to expose your tight nipples to him. He dips his head down and wraps his lips around a tight bud, pulling it into his mouth as you gasp.

“Could show you some other things my mouth is good at,” you tell him as he releases your breast with a wet pop, lifting his head to look at you. 

“I have a better idea,” he says, dropping to his knees. He lifts one of your legs and wiggles your boot off, tossing it to the side before doing the same with the other.

“What are you doing?” You ask when his hands reach for the fly of your shorts. He pauses, looking up at you with concern. 

“I was plannin’ on eatin’ you out until you couldn’t think straight,” he says. His brows pinch together. “Do you not want that?”

“I-I’m not sure? I mean, no one’s ever…,” your sentence trails off, your eyes going wide.

Joel runs a soothing hand down your thigh, smiling up at you. “That’s a damn shame, baby. Let me show you how a real man takes care of a woman.”

You let him work your shorts and panties down your thighs, stepping out of them with a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He lifts one of your legs and settles it over his shoulder, opening you up to his hungry gaze. His eyes flick up to your face and he grins as he says, “Pretty all over, aren’t ya?”

Any smart reply you have died on your tongue as he starts kissing the sensitive skin of your thighs, starting at the knee that’s close to his face and moving up, up, up until you can feel his warm breath on your pussy. His tongue flicks across your clit, featherlight, but it’s enough to have you gasping his name. 

He starts a rhythm of messy swirls of his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping down to your entrance, the tip of his nose still brushing your clit and making you moan. You buck against his face and he immediately grasps your hips in his big hands, fingers curling into the flesh of your ass to hold you still as he lavishes your pussy with attention.

“Oh my god,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He groans at the same time his lips wrap around your clit and the sound of his satisfaction has your orgasm taking you by surprise, washing through your veins and making you feel like you’re on fire. 

You feel breathless as he licks you slowly, thoroughly, his tongue making sure he’s gotten every last drop of your release. He leans back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder. His lips and chin are coated in your wetness, shiny in the light of the bathroom vanity, the sight making your cheeks feel hot and a nervous giggle spill free.

Joel grins, boyish and sweet. “Good?” He asks. 

“Great. Amazing,” you concur. “Ten out of ten. Your Yelp review will be glowing.”

“Shouldn't I be the one leavin’ the Yelp review? You were the meal after all.”

You blink at him. “Oh my god, that was so bad,” you say, laughter near hysterical.

He stands, his palms cupping your face and pulling you into a filthy kiss that quickly shuts you up, his tongue slowly exploring yours and introducing the musky taste of yourself to your taste buds. You reach down, palming his hard cock through his shorts and the responding groan you receive from the older man has you clenching in anticipation.

Joel breaks the kiss, pulling you against his body and turning until you’re facing the vanity, your hips pressed to the edge of the laminate counter. You watch his reflection in the mirror as he runs a hand down your back, pressing you forward slightly so that you’re bent over the counter, ass slightly tilted up. His hand continues lower until it’s running reverently over one cheek. He catches your eye in the mirror.

“You gonna let me fuck you just like this?” He asks. Your breath hitches as his fingers trace through your folds, one dipping into your entrance. He watches your face in the mirror, eyes dark and expression serious. “Answer me.”

“Fuck, yes, anything,” you say quickly. He thrusts his finger slowly, curling it against your front wall with every pull from your body. One finger becomes two, the slight stretch making you whine as he continues to work them in and out of you. “Joel, please.”

“Please what, baby?” He asks.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him. 

Joel grins, removing his fingers and urging you to the side so he can open the cabinet under the sink. He crouches down, rummaging through the contents for a moment before standing with a victorious expression and a foil packet pinched between his fingers. He shoves his basketball shorts and boxers down his thighs, just low enough to free his impressive cock, thick and long with a slight curve up that has your mouth watering. He rolls the condom on and then grabs your hips, the tip of his length sliding through your folds and making your breath catch.

“You ready, baby?” He asks, squeezing your hips. You meet his gaze in the reflection, your lips tilted in a smirk.

“Been ready for a while, old man,” you tease. He raises his eyebrows and draws his hand back, landing a sharp smack to your ass that has you crying out. 

Before the sting even fades, he’s pushing inside of you with one steady thrust until his hips are flush to your ass. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter and you lift onto your tiptoes, trying to escape the sudden sensation of his cock stretching you so well. He chuckles darkly, tight hands on your hips keeping you from going too far.

“Old man,” he taunts, mimicking the higher pitch of your voice. He reaches forward, palm resting beneath your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his in the mirror as he says, “Eyes up, sweetheart. You watch how this old man fucks you.”

Joel draws his hips back and slams forward, the head of his cock burying so deep inside of you that your eyes roll back from the exquisite stretch and pressure. He sets a rhythm that has a constant string of moans and pleas spilling from your parted lips, a slow pull out and a rough push in that makes you see stars. If you dare to let your chin drop or your eyes shut, the strong hand around your throat reminds you of his demand that you watch.

“That feel good, baby?” He grunts. “My cock in this tight fuckin’ pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“That’s right, who’s fuckin’ you so good? Say my name, sweetheart, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth.”

“Joel!” You cry out, the tight coil of pleasure in your belly finally unraveling, your cunt pulsing greedily around his cock as you cum. He curses, his rhythm going sloppy as he fucks you through your release and right into his own.

His hand leaves your throat and his head drops to your shoulder, soft kisses being left on your shoulder blades as you both catch your breath. After a long moment, he pulls back from you, removing the condom and tying it off to toss it in the garbage.

You straighten up from your bent position over the counter, fixing your bra and tank top back into place. Turning, you find Joel holding your shorts and panties. 

“Was that…are you…did you—“ 

You lean into him as you grab your clothes, kissing him softly. Pulling back, you murmur, “That was amazing.”

Joel sighs in relief, watching as you get dressed and tug your boots back on. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Why don’t you head downstairs first? I need to freshen up,” you suggest. Joel nods, but doesn’t make a move to leave. You raise your eyebrows at him and that seems to have him getting the hint. 

“Oh! Right, I’ll just…go downstairs,” he says. You giggle, leaning into him for one more kiss before he disappears from the bathroom and you busy yourself with fixing your appearance to look a little less well fucked.

Downstairs, Joel wanders through the first floor in search of his son. He feels a flash of guilt for leaving him for so long, especially to fuck a woman half his age in a frat house bathroom, but the guilt is short lived when he finds his son with his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl in the living room.

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles, turning to head for the front door instead. It’s getting late and now seems like a good time to head home.

He’s a few steps out the front door when he hears his name called out and you appear from the doorway. 

“You heading out so soon?” You ask, bottom lip jutting out in a pout that he kind of wants to kiss from your lips. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“Uh, yeah. Was gonna head home,” he says. Christ, he has no idea why he’s acting so weird, but you have him tied up in knots. 

“You know…my apartment isn’t far. Maybe…maybe you don’t have to go home just yet?” You say, looking up at him through your lashes.

Those knots of uncertainty loosen and Joel holds a hand out to you.

“Lead the way, baby.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

[m1guelsgf]

hii!! I was wondering if you could write a fic about Axel where he wins the sekai taikai and he ran over to y/n to hug her and kiss her and the rest of miagyi do people found out about the relationship. Thank you so much i love axel sm

surprises

axel kovacevic x reader

hope i did your request justice! this was fun! feel free to send more

it was no surprise that axel was one of the finalists. he was the only person in the whole sekai tekai tournament that didn't have one point against them. he was untouchable.

from your spot at the edge of the mat, between miguel and hawk, you watched the last match anxiously. it came down to robby v. axel and your team had no idea how hard it was to watch this match. they didn't know your loyalty had been split on their very first day in barcelona. you were lucky that there was so much drama between the miyagi do's, that they didn't pay much attention to your changes in mood around the iron dragons leader.

you and axel were dating.

it started on that first night, when everyone went to the tapas bar. ever since your conversation on the beach, followed by a long makeout session, you and him couldn't stop thinking of each other. it was driving the both of you mad so you had to do something about it. you were up all night that night just texting him and getting to know him.

now, you were watching him and robby on the mat and your stomach couldn't stop doing flips. you were hoping it didn't come down to this, because you didn't know who to root for. robby was your teammate and good friend. it should have been the obvious choice but at the same time, axel was your boyfriend. it didn't feel right to choose robby's side, even though you and axel both agreed not to tell anyone about your relationship until after the tournament.

you continued to watch the match. it was 2-2 and both robby and axel were not letting the other get the last point. axel had the height but robby had the agility. the both of them had no plans of letting up. axel's skill however, won in the end. robby was dropped to the mat with one kick, and finished with another kick.

"point! iron dragons, winner!"

the entire arena roared in cheers and applause. the sekai tekai was over. axel won. you were stuck for a moment, unable to decide whether you should console robby or cheer for axel. you stayed on your side, circling around robby with your team, still clapping your hands for the both of them. axel was being congratulated by his team at the same time.

"it's okay robby, you still did really good." you offered him a tight lipped smile.

miguel nodded in agreement. "yeah, he's been at this for way longer than all of us. at least you got those points on him."

"thanks guys." of course, robby was defeated but he was trying not to let it get to him.

just then, you saw axel walking towards you from his side of the mat. he moved through the crowd with determination. your heart began thumping against your chest and you almost didn't think it was real until he pushed past demitri and eli to get to you.

"what the hell man?" eli scoffed, ready to throw hands with the champion because emotions were still running high.

he didn't even give you a chance to speak before he grabbed you by the waist and leaned down to your height, taking your lips in a kiss.

you kissed him back, placing your hands on his arms. it was like everything else melted away in that moment. it was only a few seconds long but the both of you cherished it. he held you close while kissing you and eventually pulled away, not before placing a few gentle kisses against your lips. your brain was fuzzy and your vision was soft as he rested his forehead against yours.

"i couldn't wait any longer." he whispered, smiling cheekily. "sorry."

you almost forgot that you were surrounded by your teammates who just watched you swap spit with the leader of the enemy team. you leaned away from axel, just a little, to look at your teammates faces.

everyone was caught off guard. miguel and robby both had the same horrified look. eli and demitri were confused more than anything. sam was watching with an amused grin. she was the only one who noticed you staying up all hours of the night and throwing encouraging glances to the other side of the mat. they all looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain the scene that they had just witnessed.

you looked at axel and then you looked back to your teammates, unsure of where to start. "i know should have told you guys-"

"yeah, you should have told us." sam cut you off. "but i get why you didn't." she looked at everyone. "i mean come on guys. we were kind of a mess until now. if we found out that she was dating him, it would have buried us even deeper in stupid drama." everyone was still taking it all in.

"i didn't wanna throw us off balance even more." you nodded, looking at robby who couldn't even look at you without betrayal. he didn't know he was fighting your boyfriend out there and he felt like if he knew it would have changed things. "robby. i swear, it just happened."

"well, how did it just happen? you don't see devon macking it with kwon because it just happened." robby shot at you. he felt decieved and honestly you understood. you would feel the same if you were in his shoes.

"ew, robby." tory came from behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "devon has standards." robby managed to relax a bit with tory at his side.

"i'm with robby." miguel shrugged. "i wanna know how this happened." he pointed at you and axel. axel still had his arms around you, holding you close to him.

"it started when we went to the tapas bar-"

"on our first day? man european's move fast." demitri shook his head in disbelief and then noticed everyone was looking at him. "continue."

you were about to speak but axel beat you to it. "we met on the beach. we talked and... i really liked her. i couldn't just let her go."

"i wasn't expecting axel and he wasn't expecting me either. it just happened." you smiled at axel and then at your teammates. "i didn't want to lie to you all."

"but you did." robby narrowed his eyes at axel.

"ah, leave 'em alone." johnny lawerence's voice got all of your attention's. "he's the sekai tekai champion. at least she's not dating another one of these losers."

"johnny." daniel larusso scolded. "you just called your son a loser."

"shit. not you robby."

"i know, dad." robby rolled his eyes and waved the two sensei's off.

"so are you switching teams, or...?" demitri asked and you immediately shook your head no.

"of course not. just because we're dating doesn't mean we need to train at the same dojo." you looked at axel. "tory and robby aren't in the same dojo anymore."

"yeah, but that's different." robby started, although once he said it he knew it wasn't all that different.

"actually, i might be looking for a new dojo." axel spoke and glanced at all your friends faces. everyone was taking him in at a different pace. sam, devon, and tory already liked him for you. demitri and eli were still confused as to how they missed it. robby and miguel were the most cautious of axel. both of them had been dealing with axel's agression the most, robby dealt with it on the mat and miguel was the subject of a lot of jealous stares after a brief misunderstanding (axel didn't like the way miguel adjusted your headband for you).

everyone now looked at robby to give some sort of approval of the situation. robby wasn't unreasonable. he was probably the most forgiving person on the team considering everything he's been through.

"only you would come back from barcelona with a new boyfriend." he shook his head, smile creeping up on his face. he was still a little bitter about the match, yes, but he also had never seen you that happy before and he wasn't gonna be the one to take it away from you.

axel could tell that having your friends on your side was really important to you. once everyone was smiling and the tension passed, he took the opportunity to kiss you again in front of your friends and the rest of the arena.

[everand1r]

Subtle affection

How I think some of the twst boys would cheer you up when you’re down

A/n: I found these old hcs sitting in my drafts so I decided to post it while I work on other fics.

Warnings: might be ooc I guess?

Cater

Being a shoulder to cry on. He knows what it’s like to put on a mask, to hide how you truly feel. It’s hard for him to open up, but you’ve wormed your way into his heart. If you ever need to vent, he’ll be right by your side.

Leona

Leona would take your mind off of whatever was bothering you. He’d sit with you in the botanical gardens, showing you each flower and what they mean. He makes note of which ones are your favorite. Just don’t mention anything when a bouquet of your favorites show up on your doorstep.

Jack

He’d take you out on a nice walk in the evening. You immediately feel better, walking side by side and seeing the warm hues of the sky as the sun begins to set. Although you are lost in a trance towards the sky, Jack finds himself paying attention to the breathing view beside him.

Azul

Azul would make you a special meal on the house. You want something on the mostro lounge menu? Coming right up! The way your face lights up when you dig in, along with your praises of his cooking skills has him blushing.. He was supposed to make you feel better not the other way around!

Floyd

He’d question you at first trying to see what’s wrong, but he can take a hint. If you want to be left alone he’ll leave you alone. You want a distraction? Great! He was planning on having some fun. You’ll come join him yeah?

Kalim

Kalim would try to find a way to cheer you up.

He’d give you a box of your favorite dessert, he made it himself! Well jamil had to help… but he wanted to help cheer you up so here you go! His sunny disposition is quite contagious, you find yourself smiling as you offer him to come inside and eat your dessert with you.

Jamil

He would offer subtle support. Jamil knows how it feels to be overwhelmed and wouldn’t want to impose. His silent way of supporting you is much appreciated. Just spending time with him in a quiet room is more than enough to make you feel at ease.

Vil

Vil is demanding but he is not unreasonable. Everyone has terrible days and when you have yours he’s inviting you over to pomefiore. He’ll dress you in the nicest and softest clothes and pamper you. A soft smile adorns his face when he sees you relaxing under his care. It’s hard to feel bad when you’re getting treated like royalty.

Rook

Rook (unsurprisingly) knows exactly how to cheer you up. Whatever you need in that moment, he has. Tissues? No problem. A mirror to freshen up? He’s got you. A coat to hide yourself, here you go. Rook will always be nearby when you need a little pick me up, he’s just weird like that ❤️

Epel

He’d use his apple carving skills to make your favorite things. Your mood is lifted when you see just how much care he puts into carving an apple for you. when he’s finished, you spend so much time admiring it that you don’t notice the pink tinting his ears as you send words of praise his way.

Malleus

He’d lend an ear to you, letting you vent about whatever is bothering you. He’d also offer a solution if that’s what you want. If not, he’s content with sitting down with you and offering his silent support.

[cobaltperun]

Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics

5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't

(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.

But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.

This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.

"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.

“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.

“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.

“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.

“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”

She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.

Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.

“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.

Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.

Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.

“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.

“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.

“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.

“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.

“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.

“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.

About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.

“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.

“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.

~X~

The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.

“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.

You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.

“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.

She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.

“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.

You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.

Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.

“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?

“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.

She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.

You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”

“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.

~X~

“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.

“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?

“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.

She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.

“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.

“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.

“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.

And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.

~X~

It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.

Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.

“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.

“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.

“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.

“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.

Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.

~X~

“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.

“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.

“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.

“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.

“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.

“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.

~X~

You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.

You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.

“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.

At least you hoped she would.

You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.

“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.

“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.

“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.

“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.

“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.

“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”

Unlike you, she had a way to flee.

But that meant you would be alone with Sam.

“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.

“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.

“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”

Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.

“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.

“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.

Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.

“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.

“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.

“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.

“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.

[b14augrana]

Nenita

You plan a surprise for Irene’s birthday

Irene Paredes x teen!reader

Part of the Scrubber universe

masterlist

Warnings: pure fluff, no warnings needed!

A/N: in honour of irene’s birthday, i decided to write a little fic. there will be a new section in the scrubber masterlist for all the blurbs about cute moments with scrubber and the girls! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

Your calendar was very significant. You marked off your birthday, upcoming matches, Christmas, but most importantly… all your big sisters’ birthdays. Each of their birthdays were marked on your calendar in pink glittery gel pen.

You were giddy the night before their birthdays, probably even more excited than they were. Tonight, it was Irene’s big day that you were looking forward to as you laid on your bed stomach-first, filling in a card you made yourself.

Birthdays were a big deal for you because it was probably the most appropriate time to tell someone just how much you loved them.

Your captain was a very special woman. She was your second mother, mentor, and friend, all in one. Everyone needed an Irene in their life, but unfortunately there was just one, and not-so-unfortunately, she ended up with you and your team.

Those were the words you wrote on her card before sealing it in the envelope. With a smile, you placed it on top of the neatly wrapped gift stashed in your closet… that was piled on top of what looked like a dozen more.

The morning of the 4th of July, you were up before Irene. Carefully and quietly, without hitting the walls with your tower of gifts, you walked out of your bedroom with them and placed them on the coffee table. You placed your card in front of them and scrambled to the fridge to pull out the cake you made for her.

You weren’t a professional baker, but you knew how to make simple things like a cake. Irene loved red velvet cake, so when you stacked it all together with a homemade cream cheese frosting you had worked all week on (almost) perfecting, the end product was a birthday cake. You decorated it with the help of Fridolina, using sprinkles and cake toppers she had chosen, then two big ‘3’ candles right in the middle.

You were proud of your cake, even if it wasn’t the best. You figured that it would be nice to test out your baking skills instead of buying a red velvet cake that already cost you an arm and a leg without extra decorations.

Your culinary creations didn’t stop there. Next on the menu was french toast that you dusted with powdered sugar, drizzled with maple syrup, and garnished with strawberries and blueberries. It made you feel like a proper chef, and once you finished constructing your meal, you looked at it in pride. It almost looked good enough to go in your stomach.

“Irene,” you whispered, nudging her bedroom door open as you carried her breakfast and a cup of coffee into her room, on a tray. Your grin was hardly containable.

She rolled over, looking at you through squinted eyes. Her expression brightened and her eyes widened when she realised what was happening, and she sat up while a smile flashed across her face.

“Meu nenita, moltes gràcies,” she replied, her smile widening as you placed the tray on her lap and put the coffee on her bedside table.

“After you eat, come to the living room. I have to give you something!” you chimed, skipping out of the room and leaving the woman to eat her food.

When she emerged out of her room, you were standing in front of your gift tower with your arms behind your back and a beaming smile on your face. You moved to the side, gesturing to your gifts. “Surprise! Feliz cumple, hermana!”

Irene gasped quietly, placing a hand on her chest as she looked at you in surprise. Before even paying another thought to her gifts, she pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you gently. “Nenita, you didn’t have to. How did you get all of this– no, how did you hide all of this?”

“I can’t tell you that,” you responded, “I’ll have to do it again next year. Open the card!”

You picked up the envelope and handed it to her, almost bouncing off the walls in excitement. She tore it open carefully and pulled out the card, taking a minute to read it before lowering it and looking at you with glossy eyes.

‘Dear Irene,

From the very first day I played with you in Barça, I’ve seen you as a second mother to me, away from my home. Not only do you take care of me and let me live under your roof, but you inspire me and teach me to be better than what I am capable of, on and off the pitch. I am lucky to spend my days with you; a beautiful, loving, and talented person. Being under your guidance and having you by my side during every game has made me the player I am today and I will always be grateful for having you in my life now, and hopefully forever.

Feliz cumpleaños, hermana! T'estimo per sempre.’

You were the one to initiate the hug as you wrapped your arms around her. She was quick to react and do the same, embracing you affectionately. “T’estimo, meu hermanita,” she mumbled.

Once you had pulled away, your grin hadn’t faltered one bit. “When all of the girls get here, we can have cake!”

“What do you mean, all of the girls?” Irene questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Y’know, all the girls. Alexia, Mapi, Frido, Ingrid– who else.. oh, Caro, Marta, Aitana, Lucy and Ona,” you answered, “Now go on, go get ready. The icing is going to start melting!”

[kimingyuslover]

Coup de foudre

synopsis: same old case, he never believes in love at first sight, until he met you

word count : 1,199

pairing : Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

genre : love at first sight!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, suggestive.

warnings : simp!wonwoo, mention of alcohol, Jeonghan made appearance, Dokyeom mentioned, make out session (not detailed), slightly suggestive at the end.

★ finally! a full fluff fic, but i can't think anything, so maybe the plot is kinda rushed.

☆ check out my other works > main masterlist

Wonwoo never believes when people tell him that they're falling in love at first sight. To him, love needs time and patience. You can't just say you're in love with someone when you first see them.

That's until he met you.

You both met at a college party, you wanting to relieve your stress after the final exam, Dokyeom– your friend since high school, invited you to his frat party.

Whereas Wonwoo just wants to spend his weekend night with his frat brothers.

You went to the kitchen to take another bottle of vodka because Minghao said that it needs to be refilled.

There you met the most attractive man you've ever met in your life. Wonwoo just stood between the kitchen island and kitchen shelves with a phone on his left hand while the other filled with a cup of gin.

“Uhm, excuse me, can you please take that bottle? I can't reach it. It's on the top shelves” you said sheepishly to Wonwoo.

He froze for a second, admiring you like you're a piece of art that God made special for his eyes. He realised that it's been a few seconds since you asked him, and he hasn't given his answer yet, nor did he make a move to grab the bottle you ask for.

“Sorry, here” he said after snapping out of his thoughts and grabbing the vodka bottle from one of the top shelves.

“Thanks! care to join us? we're having a beer pong” Your offer was reciprocated with a small smile attached to Wonwoo's face and followed with a ‘sure’ from him.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

The second time he met you was when he bought coffee from the cafe that's close to your campus, not expecting to see you there working.

“Welcome! How can I help you?” you said automatically before lifting your head only to realise that you saw this man a few days prior at a party.

“Can I get one medium americano and one cheesecake to go? i'll pay with my credit card” He replied with a smile while handing his card, which makes you mirror his smile with yours and take his card in your hand.

“Okay then, that'll be 10,000₩” Before you continue your sentence, Wonwoo already tells his name, maybe a little bit too loud because everyone can hear it.

“Here's your card, wait for a few minutes and your order will be ready to go, Wonwoo” you said with a wide smile still plastered on your face.

Wonwoo smiled shyly at you after he realised he had embarrassed himself a few seconds ago.

Then not long after that, you call his name when his order is ready, and Wonwoo doesn't want to miss his chance, so after he takes his order he asks you to go somewhere with him.

“Are you free this weekend?” he asks you carefully, makes you halt your movement, before smiling apologetically.

“I'm packed this week, maybe next time” but before you can go to your original station, he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“Give me your phone number so i can text you next time” he says, making you smile. The next thing he knows, you take tissue from the counter and write your number with your pen.

He said his thanks when he got out of the café, he was surprised when someone loudly spoke to him.

“huh? pretty smooth flirt skill you got there, care to share?” That person was Jeonghan, his childhood friend, and the question makes Wonwoo slap Jeonghan’s shoulder lightly.

“Shut your mouth” Wonwoo walked away with a grin on his face. The fact that he got your number only on your second meeting was superior. He can't wait to text you tonight.

[ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ]

Okay, maybe not tonight. He's too anxious to send a message to you. He's an overthinker and an ambiguous man.

Hi, this is Wonwoo|

Hi, this is|

Hi|

He thinks it over and over again to send a message to you, doubtful of himself, but at the end of the night, he still sends a message to you, a simple one.

Hi, it's Wonwoo

He turns off his phone and charges it on the nightstand beside his bed, opting to close his eyes and open the message from you tomorrow so his heart will calm a little.

And tomorrow rolling faster than he could imagine, it feels like he just slept thirty seconds ago, but he's eager to see your reply.

hi Wonwoo, i checked my schedule, and i think i can go with you on tuesday next week, i don't have any class.

He nearly jumps out of his bed, but that action comes to an image after he sees Jeonghan on his door, looking confused at his behaviour.

“That cafe girl replies? lucky you, she seems sweet, pretty, and kind of cute” and with that, Jeonghan walks to his room, which is the opposite room from Wonwoo's.

After Jeonghan left, Wonwoo couldn't hide his smile, feeling like the happiest man on earth.

And days go by like a wind always blows on each day, it goes fast.

Before he knew it, it's D-2 before his meeting with you, and he was still stuck on picking his attire for this unofficial date (in his mind, it's official).

He has no other choice than calling Jeonghan, who seems so excited for his bestfriend unofficial date.

After a while, Wonwoo finally found his outfit that he would be using on this date.

White high-waisted trousers with a cream half-zip sweatshirt will be his attire for the rest of the day, which goes with black framed specs attached on his face.

He's been waiting for you alone at the restaurant downtown that you two talked about the night before.

After tapping his shoes for almost 5 minutes, he sees a glimpse of you, your pretty smile, and the outfit you wear adorning your body.

Wonwoo, still remember that day, you were wearing a white midi dress with a cream blazer on your hand and a white ysl bag walking towards him with a big smile on your face.

“So, that day is the day you love me?” you said, looking up to Wonwoo, who was playing his ps5 while you're laying on his lap.

you're curious about how he fell in love with you, so you asked him.

“No, sweetheart, I fell in love with you at first sight when we met at my frat party” Wonwoo said while stroking your hair with a gentle smile on your face.

“And you're my first love too” Wonwoo continued after you sat down beside him.

“I'm your first love?”

You asked him with that pretty eyes of you, gaze full of questioning his statement.

Wonwoo can’t help but give your lips a peck and a peck and another peck that turns into…

A heated makeout session, so he takes you to your shared bedroom.

He plopped down beside you after hours of hot making love, “you're my last love, and i'm hoping i'm your last” he says, then gives you lips a long chaste kiss.

“I love you”

“I love you too, sweetheart”

[nishloves]

jelly; yuji itadori (jujutsu kaisen)

yuji itadori (jujutsu kaisen) x f! reader // fluff oneshot //

words : 1.5k // masterlist

requested by @feat-sun

hey there sunny! i sincerely hope this is upto your expectations and that you like this little oneshot which I wrote (I'm sorry that it's rather short) yuji is such a walking green flag and it was so fun to write him 😭🩷 also let's pretend that sukuna is prolly hibernating inside yuji's brain (coz i didn't know how to add his snarky remarks in the fic 🥲) also, hope it's to your liking <3

"yuji~" a small pout graced your features as you laid your head on yuji's shoulder while he gamed, too oblivious to your pout and desperation.

you just wanted cuddles and he wasn't giving you any, you understood he couldn't just turn the game off and spoil you and you didn't want to seem like someone who would deprive her boyfriend of games but you were feeling clingy and yuji not paying attention to you did slightly hurt a little.

"yuji," you reluctantly whispered in his ears as your boyfriend just hummed, "y/n, give me like fifteen minutes please, todo and I are nearly going to wipe this round off!" he announced, burying himself deeper in his video game as you pulled away from him.

you could vaguely hear todo's voice asking yuji if he can still play the round and your boyfriend immediately said a yes with so much hype that it almost made your pouty mood foul.

you realised you weren't gonna get any attention from him, so you switched to the next best thing, megumi.

you got up from your boyfriend's side and went over to megumi's room, who looked at you lazily and allowed you to come in.

"itadori annoyed you?" megumi asked as he passed you a can of coke which you happily took.

"precisely. i don't really think it's his fault though, maybe I'm just being clingy and desperate," you groaned, sipping your drink as you settled yourself on fushiguro's bed who scowled at you as he had just made his bed.

"it's not bad to want your partner's attention," megumi muttered.

"but atleast lay down like a person, not an animal," he smacked your leg as he sat on his bed's edge, thinking about how to retain his peace back and help you without offending you.

"not my fault that you're grumpy, grandpa," you muttered, nudging fushiguro with your toe as he sighed in exasperation.

and then something clicked in his brain,

"hey, you had a crush on inumaki, right?"

"mhm yes."

"how did you go from inumaki to itadori is beyond me, but why don't you hang out with him?"

"inumaki?" you asked, your eyebrows quirking up.

"yeah, you used to like him so maybe you won't leech off attention from him," he rolled his eyes as a grin embarked on your face.

maybe megumi didn't mean that it will help making yuji jealous but that's what you thought.

you suddenly got up from his bed and left the can on his bedside as megumi called after you, while you just grinned in his direction and saluted him before taking your leave.

"did i accidentally do something?" megumi whispered to him himself as he smacked his head on the bed.

you rushed towards inumaki's room, a small smile on your face as you knocked on his door.

"good morning inumaki!" you greeted as inumaki's eyes turned into crescents on your arrival.

"kelp." (greetings)

"well, yuji is busy, so i was just wondering if you would you know... like to go to the market with me? i was thinking to buy some clothes and accessories," you said, a bashful smile on your face.

"tuna mayo?" (me?)

"yes!"

"tuna tuna" (do you really trust my skills?)

"i do, and it will be more fun if I have someone with me, so please?" you asked, trying your best to seem convincing as inumaki sighed, a small smile evident on his face as he replied, "salmon." (okay)

as much as fun you were having with inumaki, it was better posting every picture you took with him on social media; a picture where you both are grinning next to each other, another where you dressed inumaki up with jewelries and a girlish hat, another where you both hid your faces beneath ridiculous masks and another which you took next to beach and the best of all, you captioned the post with "a platonic date" and inumaki commented with red hearts on it.

now amidst the outing, inumaki had himself understood the meaning behind your actions, but you were really so sweet to be around that he didn't say anything, well why should he when he was having so much fun too?

"thankyou so much, leaving my intentions aside, i really did enjoy the outing," you grinned at inumaki as he smiled at you slightly. his eyes looked away from yours to the scenery as he said, "oh salmon cod roe." (hey look here)

you whipped your head around to where inumaki was pointing and it was the prettiest sunset you had seen, pinkish sky with hues of blue still lingering, clouds framed the sun as slight wind blew on the beach, you grinned and clicked a picture of it, and then a picture of inumaki with the sunset, and then posted it too.

"salmon tuna mayo kelp roe cod," (you're really going after yuji, aren't you? even he will get jealous of that.)

"I am," you affirmed as you chuckled, a small smile on your face as you found yourself lucky for having such great friends.

"thankyou so much."

"mustard leaf." (it's okay)

now when you had returned, maki had called inumaki over for some second year discussion and your eyes fell upon megumi and then on yuji who was talking to gojo behind megumi.

another wild thought crept up to your mind as you rushed towards megumi to give him a giant bear hug almost making the poor guy fall, but as cold as megumi was he was still very tolerant of you and he still reciprocated the hug.

you could feel yuji's eyes boring into you and you could see gojo's lips quirking up as he understood just what was going on.

"thanks for the drink today megumi," you gushed as fushiguro slightly patted your head.

as soon as you pulled away from megumi you eyes landed on another pair of kind brown ones, his face contorted in a frown as he looked away from you, you giggled as gojo whistled, "I think there's some talking due here so~"

he pulled both you and itadori together as yuji whined for being dragged.

"nu-uh you both are gonna talk and we," he pointed towards himself and megumi, "are gonna leave."

he pushed you both in a room and closed the doors (he didn't lock them) as yuji groaned and looked at you, "what was that for y/n?" he asked, a pout etching it's way on his face again as a small smile quirked up on your lips.

"what do you mean, yuji?"

"baby~" he whined, looking away from you, "you know what I mean..." he fiddled with his fingers as he looked down at the floor, "you know... you going on a date with inumaki..."

"but that didn't mean anything," your heartstrings pulled at you as despite your plan you rushed towards him, your hands snaking around his waist as you rested your cheek on his back.

"i don't know, you both looked pretty happy, and you were gone for practically the whole day," yuji murmured, his hands coming to rest on yours as he leaned his head back on yours.

"yuji," you laughed at his whines as his pouts became more prominent and he pulled you in front of him from his back, your eyes widened slightly as you momentarily stopped laughing from the pleasant shock.

yuji's hand rested on your shoulders as his eyebrows were furrowed, you don't think you have seen him look this adorable before.

"you shouldn't laugh on that!" he whined, a deeper frown on his face as his eyes sincerely looked sad. "i came to find you in fushiguro's room and then he told me that you were out with inumaki, you didn't even inform me by yourself."

your smile dwindled as you lean forward, letting your lips rest on his as you kissed him softly, you could feel yuji's hold relax on you as he pulled you in a hug, pulling you closer to him.

"sorry for making you feel bad, yuji."

you both pulled away as your noses still touched, both of you red with slight embarrassment and proximity, and both immediately realising that you just had your first kiss with itadori!

"sorry for ignoring you earlier, baby," he muttered against your lips as he looked at your eyes for any signs of discomfort from the kiss, but all he saw was your radiant and bashful smile as his heart started beating miles faster.

"y/n, baby..." he murmured as you hummed cooly, "yes?" his hands rested on your waist as he leaned his forehead to touch yours, his ears red as he still looked into your eyes.

"can i kiss you again?"

you grinned, rubbing your noses together you said, "yes."

[sunflowersteves]

another day, another dollar || b.b.

pairing || bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

summary || Is Rooster jealous that some random aviator won't stop looking at you? Definitely not.

author’s note || i'm so glad you guys enjoyed my last rooster fic!! i have so many ideas for rooster and i hope you guys enjoy this one! <3

warnings || jealousy, misogyny (not from rooster), fem!reader, some mention of violence, smut, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, a little sub!bradley, [18+ only]

“Getting pretty busy, huh?” 

You turned your head around to the unfamiliar voice. You almost raised an eyebrow—he looked smug. “Yep.” You replied, short and sweet. 

You gave him a strained smile in hopes to keep up some customer service facade. You whirled back around to continue to pull the tap and fill up more beers.

He decided to talk to you again. “Think you can handle all this by yourself?”

At the Hard Deck on a buzzing Friday night, you were the only one tending to the bar. Ever since dusk peaked at seven-thirty in the evening, you had been busy refilling beers and taking orders—then occasionally ringing the bell when someone couldn’t pay their tab. 

Penny asked you for a favor when Amelia came home from school with a really bad case of the flu. You knew she felt bad enough leaving you alone on the busiest night of the weekend, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit. You had wished Amelia a speedy recovery. 

You were doing pretty well from the rush of Navy officers, lieutenants, captains, and everywhere in between asking for ales and lagers.

It had actually been somewhat fun chatting up conversations with people. Out of nowhere, though, this lanky twenty-something man stationed himself right in the front of the bar.

He had been staring at you for more than five minutes, and when you paid him no mind—since you were quite frankly busy with customers—he decided to strike up a mundane conversation. It was almost nauseating. 

When you had turned your head the first time, he had his elbow resting on the bar and twirled a pint of beer in his hand. He had a fresh face and flirty twinkling eyes that almost made you gag a little. You knew exactly what he was doing, and you weren’t interested. 

You could tell he was a Naval Aviator with the whole khaki color suit and hat on his head. You could also tell that by the looks of it that he’s new.

You didn’t spin back around, though, when he asked you that question. You didn’t want to give him any attention—hopefully, he will get the goddamn hint. 

“Think you can handle all this by yourself?” Gross. 

“I’ve been doing this for a while. I think I can handle it just fine.” You then turn to Coyote with the four beers he asked for—a genuine smile on your face. He thanked you kindly before sauntering back off to your group of friends by the pool table. 

“Really? I’ve never seen you in here before.” He locked eyes with yours before trailing down your figure and admiring the curves of your hips in tight jeans—a shudder of disgust ran through your body. “I would’ve remembered someone like you.”

Yeah, he was definitely new because if he saw the six-foot-four Top Gun aviator—the top one percent of fighter pilots in the world—that was glaring daggers into him, he would have shit his pants on the spot. You were sure he would never set foot in the Hard Deck again. 

You were Bradley’s, and Bradley was yours. Everyone in the vicinity of the bar knew that. You were always perched on his lap while he spread his skilled fingers across the piano. His arms were always wrapped around your waist as you destroyed Hangman in darts. You two practically couldn’t get your hands off of each other every second of the day. 

No one in their right mind would disturb the pure, raw love between the two of you.

Not tonight, though. Tonight, you were forced under the confinements of the bar area, giving this newbie the perfect opportunity to try and stake his claim.

“Maybe you’re the forgetful one, kid. I’m here every weekend.” You fought the urge to smile in victory when he gave an annoyed expression as the word kid left your mouth.

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

“You gonna do something, Rooster?”

His eyes never left your cute irritated face. He watched you give the guy a one-worded answer with a mundane expression. As much as he wanted to give you the kiss of a lifetime, he stood back. “No.”

With Bradley’s answer, Jake was even more amused. “No? I’m surprised. I’d figure by now you’d be trailing over to her like some lost little puppy.”

Bradley bit his cheek to keep from snapping back. He knew that Jake was just giving him shit. He knew that he was just trying to get him all riled up.

It’s what Jake does. But he couldn’t let anything get to him, or he would trail over to you like some lost puppy. Hangman was undoubtedly and stupidly right. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise in surprise at the brooding silence. He expected some little quip and then a smack upside the head from Phoenix right next to him.

Damn, this must be really grinding Bradley’s gears. Jake almost felt guilty for his friend sulking in the corner of the Hard Deck.

“Don’t let Bagman get to you, Rooster. He’s just jealous that your girlfriend rejected him first.”

Phoenix grinned with a teasing smile, and Jake just grumbled to himself. At that, Bradley snorted and shook his head. He was still silent, but his demeanor had at least changed. All of the pilots smiled at Rooster’s shoulders relaxing just a smidge. 

Bradley hated feeling jealous—the angry green monster that sprouted in his chest and sat home in his head was relentless in its hold on him.

His heart always throbbed in his chest, and anger bubbled through his veins when some guy or girl gave you a bashing smile and feather-light touches to your shoulder.

He always stayed silent—brooding—as he watched you from afar. He never wanted you to feel like he didn’t trust you because he did. Oh, he did. He trusts you more than anyone else in the room, and he flies life or death with some of them. He would follow you to the ends of the earth if you had asked him to.

He figured it is most likely some unresolved tension from the tragedies that have struck during his thirty-five years of life, and anyone that wanted to take you away from him burned a hole in his chest.

So, to combat these ingrained feelings, he sat idly by as that guy’s hips were attached to the bar and watched you dodge every single flirtatious glance and awkward pick-up line. He knew you could handle yourself, and there was a whole gaggle of naval aviators that would stop at nothing to make sure you were doing okay. 

“Need another beer?” A peace offering. Jake was already standing up from the bar stool and about to make his way over to you.

He nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Bagman.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

You looked bored. You looked so absolutely uninterested in this guy still speaking to you, and now, he was over-explaining how F-18 engines work and fly. You were a mechanical engineer. You knew how plane engines work. 

You tried to tell him you did, but he was quick to interrupt to continue telling you about how F-18s have more than one-hundred thousand horsepower.

If you didn’t respect Penny’s establishment and reputation, he would’ve been thrown out of the bar by now. Typical men with their typical egos. Though now that you think about it, you’re sure Penny would have encouraged it. 

Your eyes locked with Jake’s, and your eyes lit up at the familiar face. Finally, someone you actually enjoy talking to. Not that you would ever tell Jake that. 

“Need savin’ over here, hot shot?” Jake had interrupted the aviator and ignored the very irritated look that was sent his way. It was almost like the guy was insinuating that he had caught you—that you were going to be his tonight. The feeling of possession he exuded made you want to gag again. 

Jake could tell you wanted this shift to be over as soon as possible. Your eyes glanced at the random man staring at you before turning your attention back onto Hangman. “Nothing I can’t handle. How many beers?” 

“Two, please.” Jake smiled—cocky little shit. “I think you should go talk to your boyfriend over there. He’s been stewin’ for quite a while.” He paused, eyes sliding over to the stranger. “I could even help ya with the bar.”

You turn around to fill up the empty glasses that he handed to you. “Don’t I know it, Bagman.” It was like the aviator that had been hitting on you all night had disappeared—though, you wish. Just you making drinks while your friends entertained you. It was nice for a moment, actually. “I’m due for a break soon enough.” 

Jake spoke too soon, though, because Bradley was already making his way over to the bar. He couldn’t help himself when he saw the guy stare straight at your ass and bite his lip. The action made his blood seethe with vexation, so his feet started walking before his brain caught up.

“Boyfriend?” The guy looks shocked. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. “What the fuck? I’ve been trying all night, and you didn’t say a fucking thing?”

You pursed your lips. Irritated. “I did.”

“Huh?”

Rooster stood tall near the bar, watching the scene before him. He studied the menacing glare you struck at the guy and a hand resting on your hip.

“I told you multiple times when you were talking about damn plane engines that I have a boyfriend—who’s a naval aviator by the way. I’ve made it crystal clear.”

He didn’t miss a beat. The stranger’s eyebrows were furrowed in rage. He stood up from the bar in an irate stance. “You’re a fucking bitch. Do you go around eye-fucking all the guy's then?” His eyes move over to Jake’s.

“You allow your slut to do this, man?”

You, Jake, and Bradley all froze. The whole bar dulls out into silence from his loud gestures, and all eyes are on you four now. 

The audacity of this kid to insult and degrade you when all you were doing was listening to this guy talk and talk. You gave clear signs of being uninterested. Clear. Not to mention he also had the sheer audacity to make a scene in Jake and Bradley’s presence.

“The fuck did you just say?” You were almost in his face as you leaned over the bar—a hard glare set on him with your fueled anger. The grip you had on the bar counter was starting to ache, but you didn’t care. 

“Tame your fucking girl, would you?” Jake’s hands clenched by his side at the comment.

Bradley’s chest heaved up and down, and he could feel the burning emotion consume his entire body and soul. His hands were almost trembling by his side as his thoughts of tearing this asshole to shreds simmered inside his head. 

The guy scoffed. He tried to turn around to leave but was met with Bradley’s hard chest. Clearly, he had no idea what was coming.

Bradley was sweet—a kind, gentle soul. He has picked you up from your lowest and drew you back up. He has told you things about himself that not even he understands. Bradley Bradshaw was a good man—one of the best, you would even argue. 

However, he had a temper. Call it the jet fuel that was practically injected into his veins, but when that temper was pushed to the brim because someone fucked with you? Yeah, they should hope to be six feet under before Bradley could get to them. 

Bradley towered over him, almost making the guy tower down. He was seeing red—fully unsaturated rage at the disrespect toward you. The guy tried to regain some confidence, oddly enough. “Move out of my way.”

Bradley didn’t move—he didn’t even blink. His jaw clenched and unclenched. His eyes bore into the stranger to assess him. His hand twitched at his side as if it was gearing up to make a move. 

“Apologize. Now.” His voice was deep—it was gruff and hollow that immediately went straight to your chest. He didn’t look like the Bradley you knew, the Bradley that would carry you for three miles from a sprained ankle.

This Bradley looked menacing. This Bradley looked deadly. And you weren’t going to lie, it was hot as fuck. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Bradley’s eyes flashed with something you were unfamiliar with. He has been jealous before, yes, but it has mostly been the reassuring kind. This was pure seething rage. His eyes were almost red from the amount of anger that pulsated through his body. 

“Apologize.” Bradley breathes out, but his eyes are digging into the man in front of him. “Or I will rip your fucking kneecaps off.”

Jake stood tall—back stretched out as he watched the interaction. He would spot for Bradley any day, especially to assholes like this random guy. He wanted to be ready for anything that could come Bradley’s way. 

The guy opened his mouth but quickly snapped it shut as Bradley took a step closer if it was even possible. He almost dared him too—almost wanted him to so Bradley could get in some punches that this guy deserved. 

“I-I-I’m sorry.” The guy tried to take a step back but was met with the bar counter. “I didn’t mean—”

“Not me.” Rooster pointed directly at you. “Her.”

He spins around faster toward you than you had seen a person spin in your life. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He looks up to your boyfriend for approval, but Bradley’s eyes locked with yours. You nodded as a signal to your boyfriend that you were okay—things were okay. All you wanted was for this guy to leave and Bradley to be by your side again. It’s all you could think about.

Bradley’s eyes retreated back to the stranger, and you could have sworn that the guy almost flinched. “If I ever see you in here again, I will not hesitate. Do you understand?”

The aviator nods vigorously and tries to ignore the deadly glare from Bradley. His hands picked at his sides in nervousness. “Do you understand?” Bradley repeats.

The aviator’s eyes widened. “Y-Yes. I understand.” 

Bradley’s posture somewhat succeeds back into a relaxed form, his eyes already returning back to you in comfort and warmth. Every tipsy person located in the bar had shouted in celebration for kicking out the guy that ruined all the fun. Coyote and Fanboy unkindly escorted him out of the bar and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “Don’t fucking come here again.”

In the bar, everything and everyone had gone back to normal. People started laughing and smiling once more—shoveling more drinks into their mouths. Some even started racking the balls on the pool table and throwing darts.

For you, though, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Bradley. 

He was on you in less than a second, taking two full strides around the bar in desperation. His hands gripped your hips harshly and his lips collided against your own. Your back bumps into the bar, which causes the bottles of booze to rattle against the glass. 

His tongue is shoved into your mouth, and he groans deeply at the taste of beer. His nose harshly bumps against your cheek—messy and harsh with every swallow and molding of your mouth.

You almost whined into him. “Bradley.” Your breath fanned up against his cheeks, and his knees felt so fucking weak for you.

His body starts to sloppily drag you away from the bar and into the back corner of the Hard Deck. His lips never once left yours in a fury to feel you—to be inside of you at any and all cost. His hands make their way down the back of your thighs, and you instinctively jump. Your legs wrap around his torso as he continues to walk backward.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. Go fuck like bunnies. I’ll man the bar, I guess.” But there was a hint of a small smile on his face. Finally, you two could cut the shit and fawn over each other once again. 

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

Bradley pulls you into the supply closet near the break room at the back of the bar. His back hits one of the shelves, and you could hear the sound of cleaning bottles falling onto the floor. 

Neither of you could stop your fluttering hands that followed each other’s curves. Bradley’s lips trailed down your jaw and neck, which left you breathless and aching for more. Your body feels hot—and elated—from his calloused fingers digging into the flesh on your stomach.

“Bradley, please.” He thinks he knows what you are begging for. He wants to taste you on his tongue. He wants you creaming into his mouth until you’re so dumb that you don’t even remember your own name. 

To his chagrin, though, you stop the trailing hand that is trying to make its way between your thighs. “I wanna taste you, Bradley. I wanna swallow your cum.”

His eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell—” Bradley breathes out, fast and light. He watches you sink down onto your knees and clumsily drag his shorts to pool around his ankles.

You weren’t very graceful from your pure desperation to have his cock in your mouth. Bradley didn’t mind, though. 

His cock jumped from the sight and thought of you in such a state of yearning. “Pretty baby.” He whispered, but it sounded more like a whine. 

Your lips trailed kisses around his thighs. “Do you know how hot it was to see you almost lose your shit on that guy?” Your words slurred together from the intoxication of his broad muscles and lips that were sucked in between his teeth.

You pull down his boxers and almost drool from his ruddy tip dripping in pre-cum. You lightly graze your fingers across his shaft and your mouth waters from his shaft twitching. Your eyes flickered up to see his reaction, his hooded eyes watching you pump his cock.

“You had been watchin’ me all night, Roo. I could feel it.”

He licked his lips. “He-He—” He moans your name. “F-Fuck. He-He can’t take you. I–” God, you’re so hot from your lust-filled eyes racking over his hopelessly hard cock. He withers in your grasp, and he couldn't help but say your name over again. 

“Oh, Roo, no. He can’t take me, hmm?” You hum out the last part of the sentence so your mouth can gravitate to the bulging vein on the side of his cock. “I’m fucking yours, Roo. I’m yours.”

You swirl your tongue and suck your lips around his tip. His hands latch themselves into your hair, and he tugs and tugs. How is he already so close to the edge?

You’re barely touching him, but he feels like he’s on cloud nine, and the knot in his stomach twists and pulls.

“F-Fuck, pretty baby, yeah. You’re mine. You’re mine.” He repeats the saying as his hips involuntarily hump your mouth. You gag around him and his cock shoves further deep into your throat.

You want to guide him to a sweet release for being such a good partner to you. He is yours. He is your Bradley. 

“Oh, fuck–fuck baby, please. My fuckin’ girl—yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He lowly groans out—deep, guttural, and sultry—while his cum paints the inside of your mouth. Thick ropes shoot into your mouth, and the salty taste made you salivate even more. Your eyes watch his hung-open jaw and his eyes trailing down to watch you suck around his cock. 

You swallow all that he has to offer, and you moan out his name while still stuffed with his cock. His eyes widened slightly at the action, and his heart swirled in his chest. How did he get so lucky with you?

You go to stand up and pull his pants back up, but he catches your hands.

“Oh, pretty baby, you aren’t leaving me so soon, are you?” His palm rests below the back of your neck and pulls you into him. His breath fans up against your cheeks, and he presses sweet kisses on your jaw, working his way up to your temple. 

“Roo, if you don’t fuck me right this minute—”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, pretty baby, we’re jus’ getting started.”