#i meant to answer this last night. i fell asleep.

[necrotic-nephilim]

for ask game: casstim, post war games

Tim's first heat starts in Bludhaven and, alienated from all familiar bonds, he invites Cass into the nest. but it turns out that despite everyone thinking Cass was a beta or delta, she's an alpha stuck with the presentation due to starvation as a child. and being close to an omega in the heat provokes her first rut.

for the ask game!

post-War Games CassTim my *beloved* god. especially with Omegaverse it's all so good bc i *love* playing with how Cass' upbringing could affect her presentation-

the isolation of everyone post-War Games is a lot of fun to play with, especially how it affects Tim and Cass. they don't see eye to eye about how things should've been handled. and worse, they're both grieving Steph. it makes being together awkward and full of long silences neither of them know how to fill. but without any other options and trying desperately to just fix things, Tim invites Cass to his nest. mostly because he doesn't *expect* her to say yes. i like the idea of Cass being pretty averse to all things secondary gender because of her own complex about (assumedly) not having one. everyone defaults to assuming she's a beta, but there's never been any proper confirmation. so it's a last-ditch effort for Tim to find *any* kind of companionship after everyone he's lost. his first heat has him feeling awkward and vulnerable. so when Cass says yes bc she's also just lonely and vulnerable, he's so started he didn't expect it. he happily makes room for her in his nest, but it's a bit awkward at first. Cass is just going through a checklist, making sure Tim is eating and drinking enough, cuddling him, but still holding an emotional distance. part of it is her unresolved feelings and part of it is her stunted presentation, it all makes her very confused and awkward no matter how much Tim tries to connect to her.

i'm personally a big fan of heats not being "out of your mind horniness" but more so being "emotional distress and physical discomfort". sure Tim is horny and could really use a good fuck rn, but mostly he's just cramping and craving an emotional connection, especially as his first heat without a real pack. the Batfam have vaguely acted as a pack before, but now they're so fractured it sends Tim's hormones on an emotional fritz. he doesn't like that he's an omega having his first heat, he doesn't like that his pseudo-pack is such a mess, and he doesn't like how something is clearly wrong with Cass. she's trying to hide it, but Tim can tell she's getting more and more uncomfortable the more they hang out in his nest, just watching movies. she keeps shifting around and getting up for some reason. and the worst part is, *she* doesn't know why either. she doesn't know why Tim's scent is so distracting and why she's suffocating in this need to protect and hold him. she almost feels bad about it, like she's objectifying an omega in heat who just wants her company. Cass doesn't fully understand social dynamics, but she knows omegas are seen as vulnerable and fragile during heat and Tim came to *her* for help, and now she's messing it up, somehow. she can smell the distress on his scent as he's so worried about her when she's the one who should be taking care of him and clearly, she's doing a bad job of it, no matter how much Tim is trying to convince her otherwise and just talk to her.

i think it's fun if Tim notices first. Cass wouldn't have any idea what these feelings are and she's often so disconnected from her body's signals she's not processing the attraction and arousal from her rut, just this burning need to protect Tim, which she had already. it's when Tim has his face buried in the crook of her neck that he frowns and actually smells her. and he awkwardly asks if she's an alpha and Cass has to tell him no, bc everyone knows she's assumed to be a beta. and so Tim has to very awkwardly tell her that he's pretty sure she's an alpha and he's *definitely* sure she's going into rut. and now Cass is *more* uncomfortable. because she's so used to her body being used to hurt people. and she's heard the stories, how alphas go into ruts around omegas and use to as an excuse to assault them. and that's the *last* thing she wants to do when Tim has trusted her with such a vulnerable moment. i'm just very fond of Cass fearing intimacy because she doesn't know how to use her body for pleasure, only for pain. she tries to pull away, saying she'll find someone else to keep Tim company. but Tim is promising her it's okay, promising he knows she wouldn't hurt him and that they don't *have* to do anything. his instincts are begging for sex, but he won't push for that unless he knows she wants it too.

the sex takes a while for them to build up to. maybe Tim's heat lasts a couple days and Cass is in and out or her rut the whole time as her body adjusts to presenting as an alpha. they're helping each other through it. Cass is trying *hard* to hold back her urges, she's taken the worst kind of pain the world has to offer, she can handle some hormones. but the more Tim's heat lasts the more the nest smells like both of them and she finally breaks, whispering a soft "please" in TIm's ear, and that's all Tim needs to understand. the sex is taken slow and a little awkward. Cass functionally understands how sex works, but concepts of foreplay are utterly foreign to her. i like the idea of Cass being the dom, but still needing guidance from Tim as to what feels good for him, how she should touch him. i love the idea of Tim guiding her to eat him out bc it'll make it easier for him to fuck him and Cass enjoys giving Tim head so much for the taste and all the noises that he makes that she drives him into overstimulation, coming over and over on her tongue until he's sure he's gonna pass out. she fucks him hard, but her words are so gentle in his ear and it's such a dizzying contrast. when Cass finally knots Tim i think she cries. the overwhelming emotion just finally gets to her and they hold each other like that while Cass cries and feels loved.

in the aftermath, they *try* to go back to normal. both of them agree mating would be a bad idea that could overcomplicate things. but they can't seem to stay away from each other. they end up sleeping in each other's beds, always visiting each other. it's very normal for Tim to wake up to Cass crawling through his window to climb under his sheets. they smell like each other so much that everyone can tell Tim is seeing an alpha but no one realizes it's Cass for a while because no one realizes she's an alpha. the truth eventually comes out because Tim and Cass end up glued at each other's hip. it takes a few years before they officially mate, but everyone knows it's an unofficial official sort of thing. Tim's heats are always spent with Cass and they're ferally protective of each other. they definitely don't have an easy relationship- there's so much unresolved trauma between the two of them that they struggle with emotional vulnerability with each other. sometimes they end up arguing and not speaking for days and *everyone* can feel the tension. but they always make up in the end bc they will always seek each other out for company and comfort.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

But she had to promise to stay on Berk. Because if she didn’t make that clear, they— being Hiccup, her mother, and maybe Astrid— would be worried about her taking off again. And the last thing she wanted was for them to worry about her.

Sighing, she replied, “Hiccup, I know this— hunters this, hunters that— can you please stop reminding me? I’ll probably be dead before hunters stop looking for me…”

Ugh. Him wanting ‘extra time with his sister’ meant that he wanted to talk to her, and it was definitely about something serious… “Y’know… we can definitely have the dinner, or, or get together, or whatever this is, but… I kind of have other things I want to do? Like uh, go see Camicazi, and Finley! So um, that ‘extra time together,’ might have to wait…”

Turning her gaze downwards, she shrugged. “Well, yeah, I’m okay with it, we can do whatever you want with like, getting together and redoing Snoggletog or whatnot…”

"I just--" He sighed, "I just know that you don't want to stay stuck here forever, that's all. I don't want you to feel trapped..."

He raised his brows at her, "This won't take long, Danny." Running a hand through his hair, he said, "I may not know how to fix what's been bothering you, but I just want to make sure you know that I'm here, if you ever need someone to talk to. Though I will say, in my experience? Talking with Toothless has helped me through quite a bit... Twilight might be able to do the same for you."

Meeting her gaze, he added, "I'm trying not to be overbearing, it'll just take some time..."

At her words, he gave a slight nod. "Okay. If that's what you truly want. We will get together, then."

Valka returned, steaming cups of tea in hand. She handed one to Danny, and the other to Hiccup before fetching one for herself.

There were so many things Hiccup wanted to say, but wasn't sure if he should. Setting his cup down, he stood up. "I should get Twilight back to the stables, get her saddle off and get her some fish..."

Turning to his sister, he gave her a small smile. "It's good to have you back, Danny."

[honey-dont]

Def a trademark is like... Sharp edges and angles... Shaped!

yay shapes <33

[vancalox]

1, 9, 11 and 22 for the RT asks!!!

THANK U HAZE SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

1. Where are they from? What is their homeworld like? Do they miss it?

leda is actually a voidborn who grew up on the von valancius voidship 😶 it would be a ridiculous coincidence if it wasnt also kind of the most pragmatic move on theodora's part — keeping your direct heir (in this case her grandniece) physically on the same ship as her in secret so she always had a "break glass in case of emergency" option ahould all else fail. unfortunately it didn't get very far given leda manifested as a psyker and (due to running away) was inevitably caught by the inquisition. nevertheless, she grew up on the (upper) lower decks, not as dire as what we see in void shadows but still pretty bleak. she was fortunately often looked out for by the younger/kinder acolytes of the adeptus mechanicus who were stationed on that level. the only reason she left is to escape the vision she'd had of the blackship arriving — ironically it was her trying to escape which ended up getting her captured in the first place

anyway. returning all those years later as a fully sactioned psyker primaris (probably?? need to read more into what those requirements actually are) with an ulterior purpose and a boatload of baggage is . . . interesting for her. shes quite prideful/spiteful so shes glad to be back to prove to herself/others how far she's come, but she also genuinely DID miss the simplicity of life on the lower decks, and how dulled down the horrific conditions were by virtue of her having been a child at the time and too young to know any better. those first few months after things stabilize she frequently sneaks down to the lower decks to hang out in local watering holes incognito - and also to see if her old friends and neighbours are still alive. none of them are lol. lmao even

9. What was their Darkest Hour? How does it affect them today?

can't remember the exact name of it but it's the one involving being tortured in her past - which synergizes well with her RO being heinrix. the torture in this instance however is one she has complicated feelings about, given it's directly related to her experience on terra lmao. i don't think anything that she went through in commoragh could ever come close to the experience of what happened to her that day, and it's only her resolve to undermine the dogma of the imperium that really grounds her and keeps her from falling into despair after that.

11. Who amongst their retinue are they closest to?

other than heinrix it's absolutely yrliet :( in fact she was honestly closer with her than she was with heinrix for quite a while in act 2. there was for SURE a spark of homoeroticism going on prior to the cammoragh mess which drove heinrix absolutely insane w jealousy <3 unfortunately because leda is Not as good a person as she pretends to be she does willd up killing yrliet at the end of act 3. she didnt want to, but she saw it as a neccessary form of appeasement for the crew and the only way to reinforce that her benevolence does have its limits. having also emerged from cammoragh she was NOT in a good place and absolutely leaned into her dogmatic roots to survive. she regrets it forever though. yrliet haunts her until her death i think, and its for yrliets memory that she continues to help the aeldari where she can and make sure theyre taken care of — for her friends' sake.

22. Do they have any augmentations? Were these installed out of necessity, or as a cosmetic choice?

i feel like leda has a prosthetic trigger finger for tactical reasons NGNDMFJF but she's honestly not too true-fleshed up tbh, since she's made her trade as a sniper and thus hasn't sustained any injuries requiring augmentation. she has some heavyduty psyker implants which present visually with a steal scalp (do not ask me how she still has a full head of hair growing through it lol science i guess) and a reinforced spine to assist with adapting to gravity as a voidborn. otherwise thats about it!

[thechibilitwick]

i swear i said this somewhere but i lowk forgot anyway i think what u mentioned yesterday on imposter boulevard was right, as in the way that es’s choice of words cldve confused kzi n that him outright giving his understanding of the definition of unfaithful/probably confused is purposeful in both trying to clarify but also to avoid accountability to a degree before it overtakes him ltr on n makes him break down. the second factor i forgot abt is that the guy doesnt kno what es saw in his mv right,, that him saying that he ‘didnt consider this a possibility’ is him realizing that even mind violating song extraction machine cant save him nymore n do the work of uncovering his inner feelings for him when he himself has lost the ability to do it, as he says ltr on. can u imagine a kid looking into what u think is ur deepest feelings on display, deeming u innocent for the stuff thats plagued u for so long, n then they tell u haha yeah no i only did that cuz i didnt understand shit ur feelings r way too damn complicated but also i can infer frm that little info that ur unfaithful ur self absorbed u act on ur sexual urges too much i personally as the indifferent guard representative of impartiality am especially hateful towards u after seeing a glimpse of the true self uve been too scared to show anyone ur whole life. itd make sense for him to get so defensive all of a sudden if he was put into the spotlight that quickly

man idek what to say cuz you pretty much said everythign there is to. sigh sigh sighhh

it's like the whole thing with wanting to finally be understood and seen for who he truly is yet being so terrified of needing to express it himself. but also the fear that regardless of if he tells the truth or not he can still be misunderstood, so rather than tell the truth himself and take fault if things go wrong he can have something or someone else say it for him and thus leave less of the blame to him... or smth like that i'm probably just repeating what you said.

so much shit going on with this guy my brain is getting fried tho idk what else to say waghghhhghh

[iguessitsjustme]

Hi rae!!! For the violent ask game 7 and 14🩷🩷

Heyyyy

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

This is a tough one because I don’t typically let the fandom influence my opinions on shows or characters. There are definitely characters that I think the fandom could calm down on (again, staring at the MDL comments) but I typically have my thoughts on the character and even if I dislike how the general fandom acts, I don’t start to hate characters because of it. I’m pretty good at separating my feelings on the fandom and my feelings on shows/characters/whathaveyou. Anyone that knows me irl will tell you that I like what I like and I don’t let superficial things ruin that for me.

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

It has been a loooooong time since I read fics regularly. Part of the reason is because there just aren’t fics for the shows I want fics for but I do occasionally read them. Especially if it’s recommended to me. But I guess I’ll go back a few years to when I was reading fics regularly and say people sometimes just get the characters wrong. I get different interpretations of characters, but there were times that I genuinely thought they just wrote about the wrong character and got names confused. But whenever I disagreed with the characterization, I’d just back out and find a new fic. It didn’t happen very often so there were plenty for me to read that got the characters perfect.

Choose Violence Ask Game

[schauerromantik]

I'm happy to hear that!!

I'm feeling quite good tbh. Thanks for asking 💕

aw that's good to hear!!! hope today is going well for u too <3

[gnabries]

i love u so much it physically pains me ........have i ever mentioned that

right back at you!!!

[adultbabystories]

"I’m gonna give my boy the Christmas morning he deserves!” your daddy told himself before the holidays.

He planned every minute of it. It’s been months since he began your forced regression, or as he called it, regressive therapy. Daddy worked hard to get you comfortable with your new baby clothes, baby soothers, toys, and most importantly, your diapers.

Last year, when you guys first started dating, before the regressive therapy began, he wished for a baby boy. You wanted to please him and to be polite, you wished for him a baby boy as well. How could you know that a year later, his baby boy was going to be you?

Almost a year had passed and your journey had been bumpy. From willing, to resisting, to obeying, then crying, and finally accepting, you took your place as the baby of the house, seeing him as a dominant figure, but not as a fatherly one. You knew it was his dream, not only breaking you physically but also mentally. He wanted you to be completely dependent on him. Not only for your physical needs but also for your emotional needs.

Daddy got the house all decorative with the Christmas spirit. A tree, decorations, even stockings! On Christmas Eve, you had dinner, just the two of you.  Your bib got all the mess away from your festive baby clothes. You had a good time, but still, you wanted a grown-up holiday.

He got you to your nursery, changed your diaper into a thick night one, and dressed you in a warm blue onesie. He guided your diapered butt into your crib and laid you down, putting a pacifier in your mouth.

“I promise you the best Christmas morning little fella, Daddy promises,” he said, kissing your cheek, and got the crib’s rails up.

With the mobile above you playing, you fell asleep, sucking your paci.

“OH OH OH!” someone was shouting, waking you up.

“OH OH OH! I’VE HEARD THERE’S A BOY WHO HAS BEEN GOOD THIS YEAR” the shouting continued. 

The crib rails were down. If they were down, you knew Daddy had done it, and it was okay for you to get out.

You hopped down from the crib and walked to the living room. You felt like you wet your diaper at night. It was a rare thing, but it happened from time to time. You turned to the living room, Christmas music was playing in the background and a new giant tree was standing in the middle of the living room. It was so festive and beautiful. Daddy was standing beside it. He was a heavy guy. He lifts weights but also loves to lift plates. His belly went through a pants braces. He wore red fleece pants and a Christmas hat. Covering his face was a fake wight beard. He looked like a fun mature Santa!

“Do you remember what you told me on our first Christmas?” he asked.

“No” you answered, secretly knowing what he meant.

“I remember, that you told me, that as a little kid, you always wanted a big, festive Christmas, with a giant tree and presents underneath it. You told me, that you always wanted to sit on Stanta’s lap and ask for a new toy. You wished for the Christmas of your dreams, and now my little guy, you can have it”, Daddy said, with a hopeful spark in his eyes, “Do you like it?”

You stood there and felt so emotional. This man, your new Daddy, worked so hard to make your dreams come true. Your body had weakened, and you wet your diaper without realizing it. Not only your body had weakened, but your emotional and mental state as well.

For the first time ever, you took your thumb, and put it in your mouth, starting to suck on it. It felt right, it felt good, it felt like home, it felt like something you wanted to do.

Daddy looked at you. At your blue fleece onesie, at your puffy wet diaper, and your fist stuck into your mouth. He gave you your dream, and you finally gave him his.

“Marry Christmas, my boy,” he said, “now come and sit on Santa’s lap”.

-------------------------------------- Teddy Boi is having one magical Christmas! Check him out on Twitter (@)Teddyboi99.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 13 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: One night with Bradley leaves you wanting more of him in every way, and he's more than willing to make sure you're satisfied. But there shouldn't have been any other interruptions. Especially not when your newly established boyfriend was so willing to talk about the future.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You fell asleep with Bradley's big arm wrapped around you and the front of his naked body pressed to the back of yours. He stroked your skin and whispered the sweetest things next to your ear. Like how he was going to cook breakfast for you in the morning, and how he never wanted this weekend to end. Like how he had been falling for you for months.

You were worn out from sex in his bed and sex in the shower, and you yawned as you said, "I can't believe I just met my boyfriend a week ago."

He snorted softly and kissed the shell of your ear. "We've covered a lot of ground during that week. And we met way before that, Gorgeous. I knew you were perfect well before last Friday."

Bradley was too much, and all you could do was succumb to the warmth of his body all over yours as you dozed. You never slept this well, but especially not over the past few months. You'd found yourself always a little bit worried about Bradley's deployment when he was gone, and you were constantly wondering when you'd hear from him again. But right now, your body seemed to realize you were allowed to relax completely since he was with you. When you woke, it was to find the early morning sun shining through the curtains into the bedroom you already felt comfortable in after just a short time.

"Bradley," you murmured, his arm heavy against you. Then it tightened as he pulled you closer, and you smiled when your back met his chest. But you gasped softly when you felt his erection press against your thigh.

"Morning, Baby," he whispered in a deep rasp that left you seeing stars. His fingers were tracing the valley between your bare breasts, and his lips found your shoulder. "How'd you sleep?"

You needed to contain yourself. You'd already had him twice last night. You shouldn't be feeling like you needed him every waking minute all day long. But you did. "So good," you replied, and it came out as a soft moan that left his fingers trailing down your belly as you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of his exploratory touch everywhere.

When you rubbed your leg back against his cock, you were rewarded with a grunt. When you did it again, he asked, "Will you let me taste you?"

The haze of sleep was still clouding your mind as he skimmed his fingers lower and lower. He'd already had his tongue in your mouth and all over your skin. He tasted you last night. But when he tucked his big hand between your thighs and cupped your pussy, tracing little shapes as he awaited an answer, you realized what he meant. And you realized how badly you wanted his mouth where his fingers were.

You turned your head back until you met his brown eyes. His cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted as he raised his eyebrow. "Yes," you whispered, and he was in motion. You rolled onto your back with a giggle and let your legs part, but he pushed them open wider with his hips as he settled on top of you.

"I'll bet you taste as sweet as you kiss," he murmured before letting his lips skim along yours. "Like fucking sugar."

Just when you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, an excited expression on his face as he started to move down your body. A chill ran through you as your warm skin was exposed to the air, and Bradley took the time to nip at your breasts and belly before he was gently sucking on your inner thigh. Your pussy was spread for him as he eased your legs even further apart, and you let your fingers tangle in his hair as he said, "I have an idea. Something I've wanted to do for weeks."

"Yes," you whined as he kissed your clit softly.

"I didn't even tell you what I'm going to do," he replied, nuzzling his nose against you as he stroked your thighs with his fingers.

"I don't care," you said, back already arching slightly as you tugged on his hair. "I want you to do it."

He licked one long stripe through your pussy, moaning as he tasted you. "Holy hell. So fucking sweet." His mouth found your clit, and you squealed as he sucked until your nipples were furled and your heels were digging into his bed. When he released you, he looked up your body, met your eyes and said, "I want to make sure my pretty teacher knows her ABCs."

"What?" you gasped, head already spinning, but then he grinned a bit devilishly as he rubbed his stubbled cheek against your inner thigh. "I know my ABCs," you promised.

"We'll see," he replied. "There will be a quiz."

Bradley's big hands gripped your thighs, and his tongue swiped the letter A up and down and across your pussy. "Bradley!" you cried out as he kissed your clit softly and almost soothingly after making your hips buck.

"Next is B, for Bradley's," he rasped, and your belly clenched with desire as he drew the letter B with the tip of his tongue. Once again, he punctuated the letter with a soft kiss, and you had to grasp at his bedding to keep yourself as still as possible. His shoulders were broad and digging into your thighs, and he was smiling as you whimpered when he drew a smooth letter C.

"Oh fuck me," you whined, convinced you were dripping all over his sheets with need as he drew a D and an E.

"We can fuck in a minute," he replied, clearly unhurried as he drew a perfect F, G, H. When you started bucking, he took a break to kiss along your thighs and let his hands trail to your knees. 

The fact that you weren't even slightly self conscious as you demanded, "More," made you feel incredible, and you dug your fingers into his hair again. I, J, K, L and M were written with his tongue in such rapid succession, you were panting. "More." N, O, P, Q and R made you clench around nothing as your back arched and you stared at his headboard. You were trying to stay in control, but your orgasm was building with S, T and U. 

Your thighs were starting to tighten around his head, and he had to coax them further apart, giving you a little break as his nose grazed your clit. As soon as you relaxed your legs, you heard him murmur, "Good girl," before he flicked the letter V down to your opening and back up. The W had his tongue back on your clit, and his X and Y gave you a small reprieve before he traced the letter Z all through your pussy until you were shaking with need.

"Fuck." You were pleading with him as he brought his big body back above yours, bracing himself with his biceps as his heavy cock rested against your soaking, needy pussy.

He kissed your neck and your ear lazily as he whispered, "Quiz time. What was the letter B for?"

You sighed as he started to push his tip inside you. "Bradley's," you managed before he took your breath away with a deep thrust and a thumb to your clit. You came almost immediately from the fullness and the direct stimulation, and he devoured your mouth as your shaking hands found his shoulders. His thrusting was fluid and delicious just like his mouth had been, but now his tongue was tangled with yours. You just held on as tight as you could as you whined his name shamelessly.

"I want to cum inside you again," he grunted. "Please."

"Yes," you immediately agreed, clenching around his cock as you thought about the mess he'd made last night. 

As the rush of your pleasure started to recede, you watched his handsome features while he got closer and closer to his own orgasm, his eyes fixed on your face. When you brought your hand up to cup his cheek and touch his scars, he growled your name and made a mess of you all over again.

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

Bradley just had arguably the best night in recent memory. Or maybe ever. Now he had you in his kitchen at 9:00, and you were wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and his cum while you looked in the refrigerator for breakfast options. He stepped up behind you and wrapped one arm around your waist and let his chin rest on your shoulder. As you poked around at the gallon of milk and the carton of eggs, he murmured, "Want me to make you French toast and coffee, Gorgeous?"

"Absolutely," you practically moaned, pulling both items out and setting them on the counter. He worked around you, reaching down a baking dish and cinnamon while he stood behind you, occasionally kissing your ear while you dipped slices of raisin bread into the concoction he whipped up.

He was about to turn on the stove when you spun to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck. His sweatshirt rode up your body, and he let his hands rest on your bare ass as he grinned. "So do you want to hang out here again next weekend or up at your place?" he asked.

You made him feel confident, and he squeezed his fingers into your warm flesh as you laughed and buried your face against his neck. Your soft groan was followed by, "I already want so much more."

He was about to tell you that you already had him wrapped around your fingers when you went stiff in his arms. Bradley heard a key in his front door as you pulled away from him, and his head tipped back in frustration at the surprised look on your face. You were tugging his shirt lower on your thighs and clearly panicking as you looked toward the living room, and then your face went stony.

"It's not what you think, Baby," he promised when he caught sight of the intruder who was standing just inside his house in her matching hot pink spandex shorts and sports bra, spinning her copy of his house key around on her finger.

"How many fucking ex-girlfriends do you have, Bradley?" you asked, voice shaking as you stared at Natasha Trace. He could practically hear the tears in your words even though your sentence made him want to laugh.

"I am most certainly not his ex-girlfriend," Natasha replied, clearly as appalled as he was by the mere suggestion.

"Who is she?" you asked quietly as soon as you were focused on him, your back to the front door. "Don't lie to me."

"I wouldn't," he insisted, and you let him pull you closer as he said, "That's my best friend, Natasha. We usually go for early runs together before it gets too hot out when neither of us are deployed."

"Oh," you gasped softly. "She's the friend you had steaks and beers with last Sunday?"

"Yes. I've been friends with her for thirteen years. There's nothing going on." Bradley could appreciate that Nat was objectively very pretty, but he'd rather starve for a week than have to see her with less clothing than she had on right now. He kissed your forehead before he looked at his friend and said, "Nat, this is my girlfriend. She's going to be around here a lot. So maybe text before you use your key?"

But now you and she were looking at each other curiously as your hand drifted down his bare arm where he was standing in his favorite pair of gym shorts. You laced your fingers with his as Nat said, "I knew she looked familiar when you showed me her picture!"

"You're so familiar, too," you replied before looking up at him. "You showed your best friend my picture?"

Nat snorted with laughter. "He had to swipe through an entire folder to find one that wasn't personal." You buried your face in your free hand even as you laughed, and then Nat said, "But he could have just showed me the one that I took of you on the beach!"

When you looked at her again, your lips parted in surprise. "It's you! Oh my goodness, Bradley! Natasha took my sunset photo for me! The one I sent to you when you were deployed."

He knew that photo well, and something about this just felt right. "Prettiest thing I'd ever seen before I saw you in person."

"I guess it worked," Nat said with a smile, still twirling the key. "When I took it, you did say it was for the hot guy you hoped was going to ask you out for dinner."

"He asked me out for dinner and then some," you said, dropping his hand and taking a step closer to her. "I'm really sorry if I came across as rude, but his horrible ex, Vanessa, knocked on his door after I got here yesterday. I just thought I was going to have to fight someone for a second here."

Nat waved her hand letting you know all was forgiven, but her voice was snippy as she looked at Bradley and asked, "What the hell did Vanessa want? I sent her and her goddamn cup packing months ago."

He was about to respond when you said, "She was awful. She was so mean to him, and then she acted like she wanted to sleep with him, and then she was mean to him again!"

Nat's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure she took one look at you and got so jealous. You're lovely, and from what Bradley has told me, he's falling in love with you."

He choked on the air he was inhaling as he reached for you. Now you had a dreamy look on your face as Nat smirked at him. "Are you sufficiently convinced I'm not being catfished? Can you leave now?" he hissed. He wanted to tell you those words himself. He was thinking about doing it over French toast and coffee before Nat showed up.

She basically ignored him as she asked you, "Are you sleeping over again? I won't bother stopping to get him for a run tomorrow morning if you are."

You glanced up at him and bit your lip. "I mean, I was certainly hoping to sleep over again."

"She's sleeping over again," Bradley confirmed, kissing your forehead.

"Okay, I'm sleeping over again. But," you added, turning back toward his friend and tugging his sweatshirt lower on your thighs, "You should definitely come by again tomorrow. I'll have him ready for a run at 9:00. I don't mind sparing him for a bit while I lounge in bed."

Nat smiled and started to back towards the door. "Sounds good. I'll be back tomorrow, and I'll even take a nice picture of him for you when he's all sweaty and looks like a mess. Also, we should get coffee sometime. Get my number from Rooster?"

"Will do," you said, waving to her as she vanished back outside, shutting the door behind her. You jumped into his arms and buried your face in his chest. "I'm so embarrassed that I met your best friend without pants on."

Bradley burst into laughter as he started to lead you back into the kitchen. "I'm sure that didn't faze her one bit. And I swear I don't have any other recent ex-girlfriends or any other best friends or anyone else who should interrupt us while I make you French toast."

"And coffee."

"And coffee. And anything you want."

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

Once you had a belly full of Bradley's homemade breakfast and coffee that he tried his best to replicate from your favorite Starbucks drink, you ended up on his couch. But this time you were on your back, and you couldn't stop laughing as he tried to join you comfortably. "I'll buy a bigger couch," he grumbled, wedging his knee between the cushions and bracing himself with his hands so he didn't squish you.

"No. You can't. This is my favorite thing ever." The sweatshirt was pushed up above your belly button now, and the fabric of his gym shorts was soft against your slick core as you moved your leg to make more room for him.

"I can't say I'm not loving it too," he murmured, kissing you. "I still can't believe you're here. I can't believe I blindly got mail from the woman of my dreams."

You were down bad. You were down horrendous. You were never going to be able to get back up after Bradley Bradshaw. His skin was warm and smelled so good as he kissed you everywhere and told you how much he liked every inch of you inside and out. His fingers were laced with yours, and he nearly fell on the floor as you nudged his ribs with your knee. You laughed at the look of surprise on his face as he caught himself. "Let's go back to your bed," you whispered. "I'm going to need a little more room to do what I want right now, but we can come back out here later to snuggle."

"Shit." He got to his feet and helped you up. "Let's do it."

The two of you spent the day between his bed, his couch, and the little patio table out back. You never really stopped touching him, and you and he never really stopped talking. "I'll come back here next weekend," you promised him as you sat on his lap outside and watched the sunset.

"But maybe I can spend a night at your place during the week," he mused.

"Sure, but your house is so much nicer than my apartment."

"I'm glad you think so, Gorgeous. There's plenty of room for you here."

It was too easy to imagine, so you tried not to, but living here would be incredible. You'd be with Bradley all the time, and then when he was deployed, you could take care of everything so he didn't have to worry about it. This would be the easiest fantasy to get lost in if you let yourself, and the implications left your skin tingling as you kissed him. The sky grew darker around you as his big hand found your thigh like it belonged there.

"You should really start thinking about what you want for breakfast tomorrow," he muttered, inching his hand up as your forehead rested against his. "And let me know which day I can visit your classroom again, because I think I'd like to stay over at your place afterwards. It would make the most sense."

"God, you're too much, Bradley." You were going to melt if he kept this up. "Any day is good except for Thursday, because my kids have gym and library."

"I can work with that." His hand went higher, making you even crazier for him in the cool dusk air. "You think you need another ABC refresher? I could use a snack."

Your cheeks heated with need even as you agreed and led him inside to his bedroom. "You're always hungry, aren't you?"

"For you," he insisted.

Later, when the two of you were a pile of tangled up limbs, and your skin was slick with sweat, Bradley collected you against him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat started lulling you to sleep as your exhausted body relaxed completely against his. Your eyes were closed, and you were just starting to doze when Bradley's arm tightened gently around you. His voice was deep and sure, right next to your ear, and you smiled as he said, "I love you, my Gorgeous pen pal."

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

Well, he said it. He said it, and now I'm melting even more for him. A mid-week sleep over already? I don't think I can help myself, but that morning commute might be brutal. Only one way to find out. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby (for the ABCs!)

PART 14

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[half-oz-eddie]

“I can feel you staring at me, Evan.” A half-sleep Tommy mumbled.

“M’not staring.” Buck mumbled back.

Tommy slowly opened his eyes, his half lidded gaze met with Buck’s intense glare.

He sighed as he rolled onto his back. “What did I do in your dream this time?”

“You pushed me out of a moving car!” Buck exclaimed. “I-into oncoming traffic!”

Tommy let out a soft grunt and rolled over. “Dream Tommy is a dick. Go back to sleep.”

Buck lied back down, body stiff and tense. “You were yelling.”

“Wasn’t me.” Tommy mumbled. “I never yell at you.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“For what?”

“I dunno. Anything. Maybe my subconscious is telling me that you’re mad at me.”

“Doesn’t your subconscious usually tell you about your own feelings?”

“Yeah but this is the third time I’ve dreamt about us having a big fight that resulted in you killing me.”

“Again. Wasn’t me. Love you way too much to kill you.”

“Yeah but—“ Buck paused, quickly realizing what Tommy just said. “Did you just say that you love me? Tommy?”

Buck gently nudged him, only to be answered by a loud snore.

“You can feel me staring at you but you can’t answer my question. Hmph.” Buck grumbled.

Buck eventually fell asleep and woke up in bed alone, the memory of their 4AM conversation rushing back to his mind.

He dragged himself into the kitchen where Tommy was pouring a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Evan.” He handed him the cup. “Did you sleep any better after dream me tried to kill you?”

Buck rolled his eyes with a tut. “I fell asleep…eventually. No thanks to you.”

“Oh, Evan.” Tommy moaned. “What was I supposed to do, honey? The dream version of me that you created is a way bigger asshole than I am.” Tommy grabbed Buck’s hips and gently kissed his forehead. “If I could, I’d go into your dream and kill him myself so he could never touch dream Evan again.”

“Yeah?” Buck smiled. “What if Dream Evan is an asshole too?”

Tommy smiled back. “For some reason, I doubt that.”

They shared two chaste kisses and Tommy offered Buck some cream for his coffee.

“Hey, uh…do you…remember anything else from our conversation last night?” Buck asked.

“Hm…” Tommy pondered. “I remember you asking me if I was mad at you, which was, very silly, by the way.”

“And then?”

“And thennnn…nothing. I fell asleep.”

“Oh.” Buck responded dejectedly.

Tommy worriedly furrowed his brows, pulling Buck closer to him. “Did I say something wrong? Was sleepy Tommy a dick too?”

“No.” Buck snorted. “You uh…y-you said…you…love me.”

“Oh!” Tommy chuckled. “Sorry about that.”

Buck’s face quickly fell flat. ”S-sorry? Wha—uh—whaddya mean?” Buck asked with a nervous chuckle.

“I just…I didn’t think that was…an appropriate time to say it for the first time—“

“But you meant it, right?” Buck eagerly interjected.

Tommy nodded without hesitation. “I did. I just wish I wasn’t saying it after my doppelgänger in your subconscious…pushed you out of a moving vehicle.”

Buck laughed. “I uh—I think I have those dreams because I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of me?”

“No. Not—not of you. I was…afraid you…wouldn’t love me back. That you’d…reject me.”

“Evan.” Tommy pulled him in for a loving embrace. “I do. I love you very much. Okay?”

Buck sighed in relief, melting into Tommy’s arms.

He never had one of those awful dreams again.

[call-memissbrightside]

Continuation of this

Katsuki and your son didn’t return from their camping trip until late Sunday night, but you were waiting.

Thankfully Katsuma fell asleep on the road back, and he made no fuss tucking him away in his bed. Katsuki waited to jump on you when the door to Katsuma’s room clicked shut, then did he take care of you.

It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, and it’s been even longer since you’ve slept with Katsuki. Yet, there was no hesitation or embarrassment when you willinging took off your garments of clothing as you blindly led your ex to your bedroom. Katuski wanted to take in the little details of you, things that he might’ve missed or things that changed since the last time he’s been with you… but laying you out in the bed without any barriers of clothing to hide behind, with the moonlight spilling in just perfectly to cascade every dip and curve of your body, the young man decide to indulge just for once. If I’m lucky, this will happen again, he thought.

As highschool lovers that you once were meant you’d make love, you both were virgins when you got together but now you were older, wiser, and less awkward when touching one another. There was no hesitation, no verbal checks and balances like you’d give when you were sixteen. Now, his eyes asked the questions and your little smile answered each and every one of them. That night, five years after leaving Katsuki to raise your son without him, Katsuki and you fucked like you needed to make up for lost time.

—

You gained a sixth sense through motherhood, and you were startled awake. Blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you take in the sight of Katsuma, with rumpled blonde hair standing by the foot of your bed. Thankfully, you were covered with your blanket, and he didn’t seem to notice nor care that you were in bed with Katsuki..

“Mommy, I’s sick,” Katsuma whispered, a little hand rubbing at his eye.

You felt Katsuki laying behind you, with an arm secured tightly around your hips as his steady breathing tickled the nape of your neck.

“What’s wrong baby?” You’re mindful of keeping your naked body covered with the blanket as you sit up, trying to not startle Katsuki but he instantly wakes up from your movement.

“What’s wrong buddy?” Katsuki’s voice is heavily laced with sleep, but he takes a deep breath, peeking over your shoulder to look at his son.

“I’m hot.” Katsuma was sweating, perspiration wetting the crown of his head and the hair that grew there. His cheeks were red like apples, and his little eyes held feelings of pain.

The back of your hand automatically touches his forehead, eyebrows furrowed at the intense heat you feel.

“I think you have a fever baby,” You comment, worryness replacing whatever satifaction you felt just moments before. “Go lay back down and I’ll get the thermometer.”

Katsuma wordlessly obeys your command, and you don’t hesitate to spring up and get dressed. Katsuki watches you, you feel his eyes on your back as you slip on some clothes.

“What should I do?” Katsuki catched his shirt you threw at him with ease, putting it on and beginning to dress too. You don’t know how to answer, mind going on overdrive on how to proceed with having a sick child. Katsuma was usually a healthy kid with a minor cold every two years, but to wake up with an intense fever? What could it be? How serious was this? –

“Y/N?” Katsuki felt useless in this situation, he’s never dealt with a sick kid nor did he know what to do for Katsuma in that moment. He needed you to guide him, lead him, shit, tell him what to do because he was clueless. The young man could tell you were worried, it’s the way your face had a stony expression on it that painted a clear picture: something wasn’t right.

“There’s some medicine in the cabinet above the microwave, could you get it?” You asked him, looking through your drawers for the thermometer. Katsuki, thankful for some direction, swiftly went to retrieve the medicine. In the silence of the kitchen, did the seriousness of his actions catched up with Katsuki.

We had sex, Katsuki recounted, we had sex so now what? Are we together? No – he shook his head, finding a child’s ibuprofen – Would she even want to get back together? What about Katsuma?

Heading to the five-year-olds room, Katsuki put aside any lingering questions in his mind. Just like you decided, all those questions and decisions would have to wait – Katsuma needed him.

[wtfaniii]

Hear me out- VIP reader and Frontman In-ho

Reader goes up to In-ho and is all like “I’m bored, can you entertain me?” And bro goes “You shouldn’t be bored, and I’m not really on the table for entertainment, but I’ll see what I can do” then ensues actions n shit. Really most of this is dealers choice in everything that happens, I just want more VIP reader content <3333

Uhhh I love it!!! I hope I understood what you expected from this!

A better show

Fem reader VIP x Front man

Summary: You are looking for better entertainment than just shows where low-class people die.

Warning: Nothing explicit but some innuendo, flirting, some submission.

N/A: I've only written smut once in my life HAHAHA, I hope you like this.

Money buys happiness.

Or at least that's what everyone around you had told you for as long as could remember.

You were disgustingly rich and beautiful but few dared to approach you for fear of rejection or your bodyguards.

You wanted action so when they talked to you about financing some deadly games for entertainment you accepted, however, this was only your third year attending as a spectator and fell asleep during the second half hour, if it weren't for the wonderful liquor they served you would surely be snoring.

Once again, you were a spectator as the players played lut, you were bored but the only thing that made you come back every year to that place and wear a heavy gold-plated honey badger mask was to enjoy the presence of a certain masked man dressed in black.

There was something about him posture and voice that captivated you, you could even swear that from time to time he saw you too.

And you were right, In-ho looked at you sometimes, she was the only woman who was part of the VIPs and your bored expression throughout the show seemed intriguing to him.

All these men were disgusting and to him you were a beautiful flower growing in a pond of dirty water.

Even though he had never seen your face even once.

Although of course, you also had a certain selfish and classist character, you had only learned what you were taught since you were a little kid.

They both looked at each other and you, with a smile that showed your white teeth, snapped your fingers and gestured for him to come closer.

However, he sent one of his employees to which you quickly denied —No, you —You pointed the finger at him specifically and he had no choice but to obey you.

Maybe the alcohol was taking its toll on your system but this time you were feeling bolder than usual, just to be sure, you took one last big sip from your glass as he stopped next to you.

—¿Do you need anything? —he asked cautiously.

That deep voice and the scent of him perfume made you sigh and squeeze your legs together.

Yeah... you'd definitely had enough alcohol for tonight.

—I'm bored, ¿can you make this night more entertaining for me?

From the way you looked at him and the pout on your lips, In-ho immediately knew what you meant, but he decided to play with fire a little, nothing in this life is easy.

—¡Uh!... It seems our dear badger wants some honey —said the man with the lion mask using a playful and funny tone.

You ignored him, you were now too focused on getting what you wanted to get angry over a few rude words.

—I apologize if this bores you, but I'm in no position to entertain, I just maintain order and make sure the guests are happy.

From your posture he could tell that you didn't like that answer but he also knew that you wouldn't give up.

—I'm a guest and I'm not happy —You faked a smile—I'd be happy if you sat down with me, believe me, I'll make sure you don't get into trouble.

The silence in the room lasted a few seconds, In-ho felt the gaze of the other guests on you but that didn't stop him from continuing to challenge you.

—I repeat, the entertainment is not my responsibility, but if you agree, I will look for way to... satisfy you.

Front man walked to his podium and made some motions for someone to take charge while he took care of you.

After a few minutes he turned to you and extended his hand with chivalry and elegance.

—¿Would you like to accompany me to a more private place?

You smiled under the mask and took him gloved hand as you stood up.

—Gentlemen, I say goodbye for tonight, you guys keep enjoying the trivial spectacle.

You said calmly, despite the exotic environment you were in you still maintained your education and manners.

—¡Have fun! —the man in the buffalo mask exclaimed, followed by a loud laugh.

"They are idiots" you thought, letting yourself be guided by the handsome masked man.

You two took a few more steps until you reached a somewhat colorful room with a huge sofa in the center.

—After you —he said softly, giving a small bow and leaving a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

You could only feel the cold material his mask was made of but you kept quiet, the simple act made your heart warm, it was ironic how you called him just for some fun but this man could make you shiver with a couple of non-sexual actions, it was just him.

Once you walked in and looked around at the bright colors you heard him close and lock the door, then you felt his presence behind you.

He very delicately placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled down your golden robe a little, revealing the bare skin of your neck, collarbone and shoulders.

In-ho paid attention to your breathing, that way he would know if he was doing it right or not, he took off one of his gloves to allow you to feel his skin touch you.

—¿Can you take off your mask? —You murmured curiously.

—I'm afraid that would be impossible, our identities are protected for security reasons.

You sighed and turned on your heels to stand in front of him, not allowing him to say or do anything you placed your own hands on golden mask and removed it revealing your face.

Once you dropped the mask to the ground In-ho remained silent, observing your features.

You were younger than he had thought, your eyes looked at him with desire but at the same time confidence and longed for affection, ¿how bad did your life have to be to look for affection in a stranger with a mask?

When you put your hands on his covered face and tried to remove the mask, he stopped you and walked away from you to the couch and grab a black cloth bandage.

—If you want me to take off the mask, you'll have to cover your eyes.

It wasn't a fair deal but you accepted it just because you were starting to get wet just from him attitude.

[...]

The soft sound of your breathing as he kissed the skin of your neck was the only thing that could be heard in the room, In-ho was sitting on the couch without his top clothes on, his lips leaving a trail of wet marks on your neck and his hands resting on your hip.

You felt so vulnerable and surrendered to him as you straddled him lap, naked and blindfolded.

You were used to having control over everything, giving orders and other things but this feeling of knowing that someone else could have control over you, could move you or manipulate you was new, it was exciting.

You let out a gasp as you felt the leader's fingers move closer to your core, teasing you a little.

—You're very anxious, ¿how long have you been waiting for this?

The mockery in his words made you shudder, you moved your hips against him searching for friction but he held you firmly with his other hand.

—Don't move —He whispered in your ear —You asked me to entertain you and that's what I'm going to do.

Seeing your red cheeks and your half-open mouth made In-ho feel his pants tighter than usual, yet he remained calm and continued playing with your center, enjoying the lewd sounds you gave him.

Their lips met in a hungry kiss and you finally had the chance to move your hands a little, which went from being on him chest to descending towards the belt of him pants.

With a few deft movements you got rid of him belt and pulled down his pants with a little effort.

He moaned lowly as he felt your hand caress him, if you could see him you would have seen the lust in his dark eyes and dilated pupils.

—I need you, now —You almost begged, it was pathetic how you begged for more from this man whose face you hadn't even seen.

—Ask me to give you what you want.

He still wanted to continue playing with you a little but he was also as eager as you so as soon as you said "Please" he lifted you up a little and positioned you so he could enter you without any effort because of how wet you were.

In-ho closed his eyes and a soft growl escaped his lips as he guided your movements on him, he would have loved to look into your eyes as you rode him like this but his identity was above that, or at least for now.

Besides, a certain part of him was also excited to be a secret from you.

With his free hand he grabbed your hair, made a small knot and tilted your head back to have access to your neck once again, while you increased the pace of your jumps he was in charge of leaving red marks on your skin.

When he felt you tense up he made you stop and without letting you go he turned you both around so that you ended up on the couch, this time he on top of you.

He began to thrust into you, at first it was slow, letting you feel every inch of him and then he was a little rougher, slowly increasing the speed and strength, your screams of pleasure were music to his ears, your nails scratching his back was another of his favorite sensations.

He placed your legs on his shoulders forcing you to take him completely which made you arch back and moan even louder.

—You are such a beautiful mess... —Lust and desire dripped from his words, he wasn't lying, having you like this under him and causing your screams was almost enough to make him finish inside you but he refrained from doing so, he wanted to keep taking you —You will be completely mine for this night.

He put one of his hands on your neck and squeezed lightly, cutting off your air flow and causing you to moan muffledly. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little only to pick it up again and after a few seconds you reached your climax.

—¡Oh fuck! —You screamed as soon as you finished and your legs shook, however a soft squeal left your lips when you felt him hot sperm fill you.

It felt so good, this was definitely better than those crappy, boring games.

In-ho was breathing heavily and his face was completely red but he still didn't want to let you go, he had already tasted you and now he wanted more.

They both wanted to continue.

So you didn't refuse when he pulled out of you and made you get off the couch just to kneel in front of him.

—I have never knelt before any man —You said confidently and with an arrogant smile on the side.

—There's always a first time —He wrapped his hand in your hair and settled back with his legs spread on the couch —Now open that pretty little mouth.

You obeyed him without objection and when he could feel your warm mouth around his member it made him throw his head back with a moan.

It would be a long and entertaining night.

Now you can make sure you don't miss any year of these games and he'll be more than happy to give you that pleasure you longed for.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (21/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.

Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.

Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.

The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.

His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own. 

You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep. 

You don't want to be awake. 

Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.

All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.

But you still don't know why he treated you like that.

You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days. 

The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.

"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."

Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window. 

Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.

You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.

He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."

Jealous?

A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –

"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."

You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body. 

That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically. 

But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.

"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.

Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"

You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."

Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"

You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."

His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."

"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."

"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job." 

"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.

And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"

The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"

You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch. 

"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"

Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."

"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective. 

The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."

He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.

"You have a nutritionist."

Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him." 

Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"

"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."

You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"

"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."

You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"

"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."

"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."

So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?" 

"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."

You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -

"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"

Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."

Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."

You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."

"Haha."

You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."

Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."

"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name." 

"But?"

"Do you really need reasons?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin. 

"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -" 

A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.

It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.

Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."

"Mm-hmm." 

"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."

"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier. 

"But -"

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me." 

When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck. 

He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. 

You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it. 

"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."

"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke. 

Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face. 

"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."

"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."

Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin. 

He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."

next part

[azsazz]

In Safe Arms (Part 2)

Bodyguard!Azriel x Celebrity!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Hey ! Ik u are hella busy and I am so proud of ur for ur publication , but if u ever get time could u do a Celebrity reader x bodyguard az?

Warnings: A little PTSD for reader alluding to a horrific incident but not much described besides blood.

Word Count: 3,702

Notes: Happy New Year my loves!

_________________________________________

You’re jolted awake at the rocking of your SUV dipping into a pothole.

Your spine straightens on its own accord and your bleary eyes snap open, frantically scanning the space, on high alert. Your heart pounds in your chest as you desperately try to take in your surroundings. Outside the window, there is nothing but darkness, the skies and scenery draped in midnight-hour black.

It takes you more than a second to realize where you are. In the back of an SUV on your way to your parent’s charity gala that you cannot miss. Except that the weather in New York took a turn for the worse, a heavy blizzard that no news stations mentioned before you fell into an exhausted sleep last night. No planes in, and no planes out.

Which meant that you had to find alternative transportation to make it to Chicago before the gala, which meant that Azriel had to arrange safe travel for you to get there on time, his job already on the line from his mistake only days ago.

Not the kiss. Not the weak fucking moment he had in the bathroom of your suite after a passerby tossed an unknown object at you that split the skin above your brow.

Your parents don’t know about the kiss. You tried to convince Azriel that it wasn’t worth telling them, and he tried to convince you that it couldn’t happen again.

His eyes had been hard. He’d been wearing that same stoic mask he showed up on his first day with. “We can’t do that again,” he’d said, like the kiss was transactional. Like he didn’t feel the passion that lit your entire body up, the wanting in your bones.

No kisses have happened in the days since.

Your eyes connect with Azriel’s through the rear-view mirror and the sight of your infallible bodyguard has you relaxing against the warm leather seat, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Azriel says softly. His rough, gravelly tone sharpens his apology.

“It’s fine,” you brush off, but it’s not fine. Nothing that has anything to do with you is ever fine.

Silence takes over the car. He hasn’t even turned on the radio to keep him company while you slept. You frown at the thought, then realize that silence is probably what Azriel is used to, what he prefers.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you admit.

Azriel’s gaze stays focused on the road, not another vehicle in sight. “You needed it,” he defends, and you shrug.

“Where are we?”

“A few hours away from the Ohio border,” Azriel answers. You glance at the neon glow of the clock. It reads just past one in the morning, which means that you still have seven or so hours of driving to go, depending on how bad the road conditions are.

You’re supposed to be in Chicago by ten a.m. for brunch with your parents and the charity director for the gala, but with all of the delays that have happened since New York, you’d much rather spend as much time as you can away from the crazy normal that is your life. This unexpected road trip feels like a breath of fresh air that you didn’t know you needed.

You squint, peering around the passenger seat. The roads are clear from snow, piled high on the sides of the highway, but that doesn’t mean that there can’t be patches of black ice to look out for.

You decide to keep Azriel company. You don’t want to be sleeping the night away peacefully while he navigates through four states to get you back to your parents. You know for a fact that he’s gone days without speaking a single word nor getting an ounce of sleep, but right now, with the dark of night blanketing the car, it feels cruel.

Azriel protests when you unbuckle and climb over the console, claiming the front passenger seat. His hands are white-knuckled around the steering wheel and he tries to keep his focus on the road, though you do catch him sneaking a protective peek over at you more than once. It makes you want to snort with amusement, there’s no threat here, unless he hits a patch of aforementioned black ice, but you trust Azriel with your life, so you should be fine.

And you are. Azriel’s shoulders don’t lose a strand of tension until your buckle slides locked with a click. Even then, he can hardly relax. “You shouldn’t be up here.”

“And you shouldn’t be driving this late at night,” you retort easily, kicking your feet up on the dash. Azriel’s hand comes down over your knee before you can fully prop up your legs, guiding you in a gentle yet stern matter to keep your feet on the floor. You follow his command so that he doesn’t banish you back to the back seat.

He hardly acknowledges you, focusing on the task at hand. Delivering you in one piece to Chicago in time to arrive at all of your scheduled meetings. He will not fail your family a second time.

With his focus pinned on the road, you drink your bodyguard in. His eyes flicker from the rearview mirror to the side mirrors to the windshield in meticulous rotation. You trail your gaze down the straight slope of his nose to his pink, plush lips. You haven’t stopped thinking about his mouth on yours since the desperate kiss you shared in your hotel room two nights ago, and a warm heat coils low in your stomach at the memory, waking you up.

“You look tired,” you murmur, distractedly. He does. The gray circles under his eyes aren’t the only thing giving Azriel’s exhaustion away. It’s in the way he blinks slowly, but forces his eyes wide. It’s in the way he drums his fingers against the steering wheel for something to focus on other than the road. It’s in the empty cup of coffee stacked on his old ones. He’s stopped thrice tonight for a caffeine boost and you slept though them all. He’d be jonesing for another if you hadn’t climbed up into the seat beside him. His entire body is tightened with alert now that you’re here.

He isn’t tired, he’s wired. Three large black coffees might have been too much, but it’s your presence that has Azriel more alert than anything. His skin heats at the feeling of your eyes on him, can feel every movement you’re making from across the console.

He taps his fingers against the wheel to expel the nervous energy. You wonder what’s going on because Azriel’s resolve never cracks like this. Everything was fine when you were in the backseat, asleep. He didn’t have to interact, possibly mislead you. He was free to dig into his mind, overthink every little thing that’s happened between the both of you since this little journey began.

He knows you too well. He has to. He’s read your file, like he does with all of his clients. Somehow, you’ve managed to worm your way into his mind, deeper than a flesh wound.

“I’m fine,” he assures. He rubs a hand down his jaw, the short stubble tickling his skin. He needs to shave.

“We should stop for the night,” you protest, catching glimpse of a sign on the side of the highway that shows that you’re only a few miles away from a town to get gas and sleep.

“We need to be in the city early,” Azriel refutes. He chances a glance over at you. Your arms are crossed over your chest and you’re wearing that stern, determined look on your face that makes his cock twitch in his pants. He keeps himself carefully still. “We don’t have time to stop.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that we stop for the night, Azriel,” you reply. “I was telling you that we are going to stop for the night.”

He should protest, he knows that he should. He doesn’t know anything about this town, if it’s filled with lunatics or people who’d try and harm either one of you for your expenses. The decked-out, expensive SUV is a sign screaming rich.

You don’t remove your glare from him until he veers the vehicle onto the exit ramp.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“I’ll take the chair,” Azriel says, eyeing the single bed in the room. “I won’t be sleeping anyway.”

Your nose scrunches. You stare at the chair for a long second and return your gaze to Azriel’s. The entire point of stopping for the night was to rest, to let the storm that caught up to you play out and hopefully finish the drive with clearer conditions.

Something clenches in your chest. You’re not sure if it’s your heart or your stomach or both.

He won’t sleep because there is only one bed.

“So, you’re going to sit in that chair,” you repeat like you don’t understand. You don’t, and you point to the faded green armchair. The rests are made of a blonde wood and the back of the chair sits so straight that there’s no chance anyone could actually fall asleep in it. “And do what? Watch me sleep?”

His jaw sharpens, the muscles flexing as he clenches his teeth. His hazel eyes follow the point of your finger for a fleeting second before returning to yours.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s watched you sleep.

“I’ll turn the chair toward the window,” Azriel answers like this is a solution. If it makes you uncomfortable, he will even wait in the car.

The real solution would be for him to get in the fucking bed with you and sleep for a few hours. You saw the stack of empty coffee cups in the car. You saw the strain in his posture, the way he was forcing himself from giving into his exhaustion.

A disbelieving noise crawls up your throat. He’s so fucking stubborn. It’s not like you’re both eighteen and the prospect of touching looms over you. No, you’re both adults. You’ve seen him sans clothes, even if it was an accident, and Azriel has been in the room with you during fittings with designers your father fully didn’t trust. He may have been turned toward the window, you toward the mirror, but there was always the thrill that maybe he’d peek over his shoulder, give you a long once-over, that maybe some sort of want would infiltrate his hard, hazel eyes.

You’ve imagined it more than once.

“Azriel,” you scold. You busy yourself with moving your luggage to the empty desk in the corner. The table wobbles as you set your things on it, but it stays upright. You quickly move back toward the bed and tug the blankets back, doing your best to reign in your cringe as you think about the possibilities of what could have gone on in this dingy motel room on the side of the interstate. You’re used to luxurious, five-star hotels catering to your every need, not rundown motels that reek of mothballs and crime.

Ghosts. Are there ghosts?

“We stopped here specifically so you could sleep,” you try to argue, but you sound distracted, and Azriel’s gaze snaps to yours, his shoulders straightening like he’s going into protective mode.

He catches you staring dazedly at the bed. Your fingers are curled tightly into the blankets, lips pressed together tightly. Your chest is rising and falling more quickly, and he rounds the bed, coming to your aid.

Azriel knows the life you’re used to living. What you must be thinking about a place like this. He could say something mean, mention how spoiled you are, how it’s just like the hotels you usually stay in, minus the amenities. He wants to tell you that people have done worse things in nicer rooms, especially the ones you tend to stay in, but he knows that your frozen features are due to something else, a dark memory that edges up every once in a while.

“Let me get you some fresh blankets,” he murmurs. His hand comes down around your wrist gently, drawing you slowly from your daze. The heat of his body sears through the thin fabric of your pajamas, and you latch onto that as you squeeze your eyes shut and force the memories away.

“No,” you choke, sounding much more put-off than you’d like. Azriel knows your past, you remind yourself, he knows everything about you, this isn’t you looking weak. You’re only human. “It’s fine, I—” you swallow roughly as a smatter of red conjures behind your eyelids. You try hard not to flinch, but it’s there, the blood on the walls like some fucking mural.

You look down at your hands, painted with the same crimson. Your clothes, and as you drag your eyes up to the bed—

“Hey,” Azriel snaps, hand planted firmly on your cheek, tearing you from the awful memory. You blink and your eyes latch onto his worried hazel ones. You didn’t even notice Azriel turning you around, how your hand went from clutching the sheets to fisting in his black button down. “You’re not there, you hear me?”

You nod because your throat is too tight to do anything else. Tears brim your eyes and Azriel wipes an escaped drop that drags down the apple of your cheek. His touch is too soft, too tender.

You pull away, ripping yourself from his hands. You turn toward the bed and don’t allow the dreadful recollection another thought. You slip between the sheets and try to hide your trembling movements by tugging the blankets all the way up to your chin.

You can feel Azriel’s presence behind you. You always can, whenever he’s in the room. It’s like the two of you are magnets. There is an attraction to him that you can’t place.

He knows that you won’t be sleeping now. That the harrowing memory of what you’ve been through lingers in the surface of your mind and if you should fall asleep, it will only haunt you worse.

Azriel’s known about your past, the terror that you’re trying so desperately to run from, to forget. It chases you like death is on your heels, ready to grip you with its bony fingers and drag you into the dark. He’s been briefed on how you might respond when the trauma inevitably claws its way back, but this is his first time experiencing it happening to you. How it grips you around the throat and threatens to consume you.

His jaw aches from grinding it so tight. The one thing that he can’t protect you from is the one thing he wants to protect you from the most.

He has a job, and this is part of it, he tells himself as he kicks his shoes off.  

“Shove over.”

“What?” You ask, confused. You peer over your shoulder to see Azriel shrugging off his jacket. It leaves him in a black t-shirt that clings to his body exactly the way you want to. You never thought you’d be jealous of a piece of clothing, yet here you are. You carefully tear your gaze away.

“You need to sleep and I know your stubborn, spoiled ass isn’t going to do it if I’m not doing it with you” he pauses. That sounded so fucking wrong, but Azriel trudges on. “So, shove over.”

You fight the smile that threatens to curve your lips at his comment. If it was coming from anyone else, you’d be offended, but you know that Azriel doesn’t mean it as anything other than a joke. You scoot further toward the edge of the bed, shivering at the cool sheets. Your goosebumps only prickle further when Azriel’s weight hits the mattress, and the warmth of his body washes over you.

You try not to let your breathing shallow as he settles himself in. He’s not even touching you, for Mother’s sake, and yet you’re responding as if you’re a teenager lying beside her childhood crush.

“Don’t think about it,” Azriel’s voice startles you.

You might smile at the rough demand in Azriel’s tone if you weren’t feeling like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for someone to come up behind you and shove you off.

“Easier said than done,” you mutter. When the light flickers out, your body locks, and the memory explodes in your mind like a fucking gunshot wound.

“I said, don’t think about it.” Azriel’s voice is a gruff command in your ear, snapping you back into reality. Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, and you can hear the struggle in your lungs as you try to gulp down what little air makes it through your constricting esophagus.

Hands wind their way around your waist and you don’t have a second to struggle before Azriel tugs you back into his chest, molding his body against your back. A warm, heavy arm is draped across your side, and his hand finds your shaking ones beneath the blankets, offering you a lifeline.

You clutch onto him. Azriel murmurs softly in your ear but you can’t make out the words. They’re in a different language. French or Italian or Spanish, you think. You sure that if he was speaking English, you still wouldn’t understand with the way that you’re focusing on fighting past the demons in your head.

The room is pitch black. You always sleep with a light on, even if it’s just the screen of your phone lighting up the darkness. You haven’t been in a blackened room like this since that night, and Azriel knows it, which is why, with some maneuvering, he turns on the flashlight on his phone and sets it on the bedside table, illuminating the room in an awful white light that has you all but melting into his body.

“Thank you,” you whisper. It sounds much too loud in the quiet of your motel room.

“Go to sleep,” he answers plainly. His bluntness almost makes you smile.

But you can’t go to sleep, and not just because of the lingering aftershocks of your memory. As those slowly eke away, you focus on the feeling of Azriel’s body pasted tightly against yours.

You swear you can feel every muscle that is packed onto his hard body through your clothes. Your ass is nestled against his front, and you want to wiggle oh-so badly, to writhe against him in the hopes of feeling what he’s working with down there.

He’s still fully clothed, you notice. Didn’t think twice about climbing into the bed behind you to console you. You wonder if he’s uncomfortable before realizing that with his military trained past, he must have slept in worse conditions than this before.

Which makes you cringe. Here you were, freaking out about a fucking motel when there are people who are going through much worse. Embarrassment flares your body and you squirm uncomfortably.

Azriel’s arms lock tighter around you, and he tugs you closer. You didn’t think there was a closer, but there is. His breath fans across your ear when he speaks. “If you keep moving like that, we’re going to have a lot more than a blizzard and stiff fucking sheets to worry about.” He sounds callous, but there’s a strain to his tone, one that has all of the fiery feelings in your veins converging between your thighs.

Your movements halt immediately. “Sorry,” you say, but there’s no sleeping now. Not when his words are out there, hanging in the air. That if you kept moving, you’d have a different kind of stiffness to think about. One that you’re much more interested in than the starchy sheets.

You close your eyes anyway, trying to fight off the interest stirring low in your gut. The image of Azriel naked, rolling on top of you drifts into your mind. Your pussy clenches when he slowly parts your legs and flashes you a devious smile before lowering himself between your legs.

Movement has your eyes jolting open. You’re holding your body so tightly that Azriel would be terrible at his job if he didn’t know that you weren’t asleep like you should be.

“Sleep,” Azriel reminds you brusquely. His hand splays across your stomach, his thumb stroking across the soft fabric of your shirt in a soothing motion, or what would be a soothing motion if you weren’t three seconds from creating the foulest dirty thoughts about him or two seconds away from actually doing something about it.

“Okay,” you breathe, trying to force annoyance into your words instead of the arousal that slips out anyway. Azriel’s thumb falters and you swear you feel something against the curve of your ass twitch. Your breath catches in your throat and now you know that the movement against your hind wasn’t a part of your imagination.

The noise you let slip has blood pooling into Azriel’s cock. He refuses to move, refuses to do anything except squeeze his eyes shut and practice the techniques he learned in the Royal Marines to keep himself in fucking check. He promised that after the kiss in the bathroom that he would keep away from you, that this relationship would stay professional only.

Professional feels so fucking far away from this.

You find the courage to whisper. “Azriel?”

He grunts in response, to let you know he’s awake and listening, and you like the sound all too much. “That doesn’t sound like sleeping.”

“I’m not sure that I can,” you admit.

Azriel sighs softly, his breath tickling your neck. “You didn’t even try,” he answers simply, but his fingers begin tracing a soft, soothing pattern across your forearm. You latch onto his hypnotic touch, wishing it would move further south. “Just think of better things. I’m here, and you’ll be alright.”

I’m here, and you’ll be alright. Because he’s your bodyguard, your protector, and he won’t ever let anything happen to you, mentally or physically.

You shut your eyes and think about those words, the soft touch from a man so callous and strong, long until you fall asleep.

[ssentimentals]

Hii can i request mingyu + hurt prompt #34? Thankssss

hi sweets! thank you for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

hurt prompts: 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?'

someone is caressing your hand. it's a nice feeling to wake up, especially when you know who is responsible for said action. mingyu's face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes and you smile a little. mingyu doesn't smile back and memories of last night rush in, reminding you why you're waking beside him and not in his arms. before panic rises, you remind yourself that mingyu is caressing your hand gently now, so everything can't be that mad.

'morning,' you whisper, afraid to talk in a normal voice for some reason.

'morning.' mingyu repeats and clears his throat. 'slept well?'

you don't really remember how you fell asleep; probably knocked out from crying and fighting. arguments with mingyu were rare but whenever they did happen, they sucked all the energy out of you, leaving you drained and exhausted. truth to be told, you don't even remember coming to the bedroom, so mingyu probably carried you here once you fell asleep in the living room.

'not really,' you reply, not feeling rested at all. 'you?'

he shakes his head. when you first started dating, you both promised each other to never go to bed angry, so what happened last night is an exception of sorts. 'the things you said yesterday... did you mean them?' mingyu asks quietly, voice muffled by the pillow.

your mouth opens but nothing comes out. to your horror, you don't even remember about which things mingyu is talking exactly - a lot of stuff was said yesterday and not all of it was said due to anger or frustration. but mingyu is sensitive, always has been in a much more delicate headspace than you, so you tiptoe around the question, looking for the right answer while also staying honest: 'any of the mean and angry words - no. i love you, gyu, i'd never actually mean any of those. but what i said about the whole thing, like in the beginning, what made me upset in the first place.. yeah, i meant that. i stand by it even now.'

mingyu doesn't say anything at first. he just stares at your hands, chewing on his bottom lip, thinking about your answer. you both treasure honesty the most, so he knows you're being sincere. 'okay.' he settles for in the end, taking a deep breath. 'i also didn't mean everything i said after we moved from the kitchen to the living room.'

you smile and hesitantly interlace your fingers together. 'i know, gyu.'

he nods again and squeezes and when he does that, you feel like you can breathe again. if mingyu is not declining physical contact, if he's still here then you two can work it out. 'we don't have to do it now,' you say, not wanting to get up. 'we can just lay here for a while.'

sigh that mingyu lets out on this is full of relief. 'yes. yes- yeah. please.'

you both move in sync, slotting your bodies together until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another one begins. 'sleep a bit more for now,' mingyu whispers, holding you tight. 'i'll be here when you wake up.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini