#i was in hysterics when i found this thank you

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Dignity -

Cato Sicarius x M!Ambassador (Kiran Elander)

Tags: Cato Sicarius Fleas, this shit rated PORN (I promise more plot later), brat taming, praise, fisting, orgasm control

I've gotten the fleas, however I am gay and need to see this man get soft dommed. Heavily inspired by all the x F!Ambassador stuff courtesy of @vyzz-undercover @lemon-russ @moodymisty @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond I blame y'all. Fucking free me. I'm obsessed with both Cato and Kiran now. Thanks to @daily-shenanigans784 for the beta, @cardinalcanis for opening my eyes to big sub marines, and my homies for peer reviewing the sensation of prostate stimulation they will be the death of me

Also @jaghatai-khock u wizard,, how did you know,,

The Chorus: @thisuserislilsilly

- - -

Seeing the cracks finally begin to show as Ambassador Elander rounded on him made Cato Sicarius feel downright giddy, watching the puny man turn on his heel to face him as he stopped in the middle of the hall. 

“Diplomacy may not provide such instant gratification compared to your usual cracking skulls and splashing viscera, but you could at least pretend to care.” Elander said icily, his frustration visible just below the surface, pouty lips curled in irritation. 

“I am a statesman myself, I simply have a preference for efficiency.” He replied in the airy and detached tone that had finally made headway against the pompous little dignitary, delighting in the mocking imitation of the ambassador’s own placid voice. 

Ignoring or retorting Elander’s words hadn’t produced any results, so Sicarius found it downright hysterical that simply belittling him had done the trick after the baseline had so thoroughly gotten under his skin. Theatrically humming and nodding and rephrasing his words for an entire meeting would have been dull if he hadn’t gotten to watch the ambassador’s face turn red, a fitting consequence for how Sicarius felt whilst babysitting him; being unable to be rid of such a thorn in one’s side. 

“Of all the childish—“ Forcing a breath through his nose, Elander flexed his fingers in a squeezing motion, as if his pathetically small and soft hands could ever hope to strangle the Knight Champion of Macragge. “You know what? No lunch, go take a shower, meet me in my quarters at 1100.”

No lunch? Sicarius’s expression rapidly soured and he leaned forward to tower imposingly over the dignitary. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast before beginning talks early that morning. “You don’t have the rank to give me orders.”

“It’s not an order.” Elander crossed his arms, his own expression cooling into something Sicarius knew— and absolutely loathed. The bastard must think he’s being clever. “Think of this as an exchange. You have no reason to listen to me; I’ll be giving you one. It’s your choice whether or not to make this more tolerable for both of us.”

“What could you possibly offer me?” The marine scoffed, however his thoughts began to race— without his permission— to things he imagined the ambassador could offer that had been pervading his mind since some little drop of poison had slipped in weeks ago. 

-

Kiran Elander had been an inescapable presence since swearing fealty to Roboute Guilliman and subsequently joining the fold of the Ultramarines, when he should have been indistinguishable from every other serf scurrying underfoot. 

The scribes had plenty of reason to be in and out of his Primarch’s office, unobtrusively running papers and scribbling down his dictations, which made Elander’s insistence on banal chattering disruptive on its own. A mere baseline being conversational with his genesire was bound to raise Sicarius’s hackles, an audacity that grated fiercely at his nerves when his time standing guard was otherwise a reprieve. 

That talkative attitude extended to every single person he interacted with, serf and Astartes alike, which provided plenty of evidence towards Sicarius’s theory of what a little fraud Elander was. That calm, airy politeness he practiced, the flattery and the warm inviting expressions. Soothing but utterly empty. He’d seen the sharpness through the new drapings of Ultramarine blue and gold, the biting and calculating words he dished out where his Primarch didn’t hear.

But that wasn’t enough, the wretch had also insisted on talking to him, calling out with a pithy little greeting every time he waltzed through the office’s doorway. Feeding him those plastic smiles, asking him useless questions and having the gall to look amused when he failed to sink his hooks into him, trying to lure him into a chat. 

How are you doing today, lord angel?

Lovely planet to be deployed to my lord, what do you think?

Care for a mint, Commander Sicarius?

By the Throne, the accursed mints were a whole other problem. Without fail there was always a tin of mints in his pocket, and always one in his sharp little mouth. His jaw was always working as if he was thinking of the next thing to say, pensively sucking on it in a way Sicarius found infuriating, that deft serpent’s tongue rolling it between his teeth and neatly moving it out of the way when he needed to speak.

The scent of menthol followed Elander everywhere, announcing his presence even before he was seen, accompanied by the equally bright and pungent citrus tang of his awfully sweet cologne. Maybe that was where the problems started, sparking some strange urge to grab the ambassador by the scruff of the neck and breathe him in to find out if there was a real man underneath that sugary veneer.

It wouldn’t be difficult, the ambassador looked as though he had never so much as touched a weapon in his life, picking him up would be as easy to Sicarius as grabbing a tissue. Elander was short even for a baseline male, with long legged and slim gangly proportions, favoring dark tailored waistcoats that gave the illusion that Sicarius could wrap his fingers around his slender frail waist with one hand. Speaking of, the Ambassador’s hands matched the rest of him, delicate and small and soft. 

Sicarius had never met a man of Elander’s station who appeared so utterly useless in combat. The dusty waves of his hair were so pale as to be almost white, so fair that it seemed they would stain with a touch. A porcelain face pockmarked by moles, split wide by frequent smiles that ruined the illusion of doll-like pink lips. He should be stuffed up on a shelf like one and left to gather cobwebs, to be some pretty ostentatious thing to be admired glanced over, rather than taking up so much space for something so insignificant.

Cato Sicarius had never considered anyone pretty. Let alone a man, let alone a baseline… and he was certainly not going to start with Kiran Elander. The weasley little whoreson.

Yet somewhere between his arrival and now, the bastard had gotten into his head. Those disgusting little lips and tongue were always moving, distracting from whatever it was Elander had elected to drone on about, and now even in his absence Sicarius could imagine them, lurid and pink in his mind. Maybe they were warm… but they were just as likely to be cold and hard like plasteel. Fake. He could picture gripping Elander’s face so hard he shattered in his hands. Throne, if Sicarius wanted to, he could ruin him.

So why was he doing as he asked?

-

The shower was an exercise in frustration, as none of the amenities in his accommodations were sized for an Astartes. Such a backwater planet was only being returned to the Imperium due to the presence of humans, of course they’d never been graced by the likes of the Ultramarines before. Elander’s presence is merely to not waste ammunition. Still, Sicarius was forced to maneuver his body under the spray much to his chagrin, cursing under his breath every time he headbutted the showerhead or bumped his elbows against the tiled walls. 

The frustration had to be why his hearts’ rate was so elevated as he aggressively scrubbed himself down, then toweling dry just as mercilessly until his skin prickled. Frustrated with the fact his curiosity was winning over his indignance as he pulled on a set of fatigues in favor of his itchy dress uniform and set off towards the ambassador’s room in long strides. 

Elander didn’t deserve the courtesy of knocking, so Sicarius simply let himself in, growing irritated when he was met with the smell of menthol and saw that the dignitary had been waiting for him. His jacket and waistcoat had been hung over the back of a chair, with Elander lounging sidelong in it, his legs draped over the arm.

“Thank you for joining me, Commander Sicarius. Are you ready to hear my rules?” Sliding out of the chair, the ambassador smiled as he slinked unhurriedly across the room. All of his finery had been shed, leaving Elander in a plain dark blue dress shirt and slacks, the only adornment left being a thin black bracelet.

“The rules of what? Some sort of game?” Sicarius scoffed as he closed the door behind him, cocking his head to look down at the man.

“If it would please your immature attention span, you may think of this as a game.” Hand planted on his hip, the ambassador evenly met Sicarius’s critical glare, expression so placid as to seem bored.

The Ultramarine growled. “You would do well not to mock me.”

“Your cooperation would be appreciated. I have no need to insult you otherwise. Now, are you ready to hear my rules?” 

“Concisely, yes.”

“The goal of this exercise is to test your patience, as I want to see you wait to be rewarded. For the duration, I ask for you to follow my instructions and nothing more.” Elander sighed and tucked an errant strand of cream colored hair behind his ear. “If you disobey, I stop. If you don’t want to finish this exercise, you need only say the word.”

“I assume failure to complete this exercise would mean forfeiting the reward?” Sicarius inferred, searching Elander’s honeyed hazel eyes ringed with grey, probing for any signs of deception.

“Correct.”

“I’ll ask you again, what sort of reward could you possibly offer me.”

The ambassador appeared thoughtful, likely because the crafty little bastard was thinking of a way to sound more enticing. Pursing plush lips, he started to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing surprisingly shapely forearms— perhaps he had the ability to pick up more than just a measly stack of paperwork. 

“Some playtime with your pleasure receptors.” Elander neatly cuffed his sleeves just above his elbows. “Please remove your clothing and be seated on the bed.”

Sicarius barked out a hysterical laugh, head spinning. This was far more bizarre than any feverish Warp-damned dream his subconscious could cook up. “You’re a whore.” He spat out the accusation before his silence and racing thoughts would betray him.

Merely frowning slightly, Elander raised a brow. “Are you implying that I’m tempting you, Commander Sicarius? Because a whore takes payment for someone’s desire for them, I merely have skills to use for your benefit.”

“Of course not.” Sicarius hissed. Tempting? He, Cato Sicarius, was not a victim of temptation. There was no attraction involved. That explanation was easier than whatever justifications and explanations his mind was scrambling for, and that was good enough. 

“Good.“ Elander flashed that inviting conniving smile. “Now, if you’re ready to continue, I recall giving you instructions.”

Removing his fatigues merely required efficiency, but Sicarius felt oddly conscious of how quickly he undressed. Speed could imply anxiety or eagerness, and of course neither of those was the case. However taking his time would be putting on a show for the little slut, a thought that sent a shiver down his spine. Just his spine, certainly nowhere else. There was absolutely nothing exciting about this situation. 

There was nothing vulnerable about stripping himself bare in front of Elander, because of course nakedness amongst his battle-brothers was nothing but mundane, and that wouldn’t change in front of a baseline so undeserving of his glory. Surely it should feel the same.

“A beard like yours but no body hair? What a shame.” The ambassador interjected with that grating tone of faux-innocence and curiosity. Sicarius was extremely aware he was being watched as he discarded his fatigues in a pile on the floor. 

“Depilatory treatment is standard for the use of a body-glove.” With a grunt he sat heavily on the bed, the springs creaking as he settled on the edge, lounging back on his elbows with knees parted to take up as much space as possible and present an intimidating view. It seemed to be working as the expression on Elander’s face was nothing short of admiring as he moved to stand in front of him.

“Someone’s showing off.” A grin crept across his face and Sicarius let out an indignant growl. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” There was no reason to prove anything so obvious as size to such a puny baseline, Cato Sicarius knew he was impressive, and naturally Elander would too.

“It’s okay to be proud.” As if Sicarius needed his permission. He suppressed a shiver of surprise disgust as Elander’s fingertips alighted on his thighs, so delicate it was like the brush of a feather as they trailed over two pairs of neural ports and down to his kneecaps, pale eyes soft with appreciation. “Such a lovely specimen.”

Whether it was the words or those delicate fingertips suddenly slipping under his shaft, Cato felt his cock twitch, reeling as his thighs shuddered of their own volition. Elander’s hand tightened on his knee, as if to remind him of his presence positioned between his legs. How could he forget?

“You will be still.” The ambassador murmured gently, almost crooning. “Wouldn’t want to explain how I was injured if you couldn’t keep control of yourself. You can be patient for me, right?”

Sicarius grunted and nodded once, not trusting himself to open his mouth and hear his own compliance from it. No, he was merely tolerating this. Not an order, an exchange. 

“Very good.” Another traitorous twitch. “Tilt your hips up, please.”

Lifting his pelvis as Elander had suggested, Cato closed his eyes. There was no need to complicate spoil this experience with a view of the bastard ambassador’s face, this was merely a service he could do with his own hand, and certainly didn’t require Elander to be involved.

Yet his hand couldn’t compare to the sensation of those ministrations. Where his were callused, the fingers wrapped sinfully around his cock slid like velvet, soft and warm and precise. They seemed to know his body in a way he didn’t know himself, dexterously squeezing and fondling until Cato began to sigh, his hesitation drowned in new and pleasurable experience. Tension bled from his muscles, relaxing back onto the mattress with a relief he didn’t know he needed.

Then something hot and wet made contact with his glands and those fingertips slid down to uncharted territory and his hips bucked in surprise. Cato’s eyes flew open, feeling cold as those warm touches suddenly withdrew.

“Be still.” The ambassador murmured a patient reminder, one hand resting on Cato’s thigh as the other reached into the pocket of his slacks. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you.”

“Are you going to continue?” Despite knowing the rules, he couldn’t help but feel ornery. How dare this feel good? How dare he stop?

“If you can behave. I know you can, you can be a good boy for me.” Okay, the praise was definitely doing something— some sorcery to him, making a heat pool in his gut, a weakness that had gone previously unexploited. This wasn’t the pride he felt after a glorious victory, it was a syrupy sort of exhilaration that he wasn’t quite ready to interrogate.

Especially not when Elander’s next move had him transfixed. Gripping the shaft, he tapped the head of Cato’s cock against his pillowy lips, holding eye contact as his perfect sinful pink mouth swallowed his glans in one go. That mouth had haunted his mind, but only now did it occur to him why. He didn’t go down far, especially with the way those plush lips stretched around the girth of an Astartes, but that hardly mattered when his tongue was doing all the work.

Swirling around the head in teasing circles, playing with the slit, a bouquet of new experiences dragged a helpless groan out of him. Still stroking Cato’s length, there was a massaging pressure at his perineum, gentle circles slowly migrating down.

“The hell are you doing with my ass?” He grunted, but surprised himself by remaining still as velvety fingertips traced around the hole.

“No hope of finding your head if it’s too far up there.” Elander muttered sarcastically, Cato’s cock resting against his cheek as he fiddled with the thing from his pocket, accompanied by the quiet pop of a bottle opening. “This will feel a bit strange, but if you’re patient I promise it’ll feel good. Pull your legs up, that angle should be more pleasant for you.”

“Fuck you.” Gritting his teeth as he did as he was told, Cato craned his head up as if he could possibly see what Kiran was doing between his legs.

“Patience. This will be cold.” Despite the warning, the sensation of a gelled finger rubbing against the pucker of his asshole made Cato flinch, growling low in his chest.

It was definitely strange. He had certainly been examined before, every last inch of him observed and tested, and that was not the way Kiran touched him. Slow and incremental was his work, first massaging the outer ring of muscle with slick fingers slowly warming the lubrication, the pressure of his circular strokes beginning to dip inside.

That foreign sensation was accompanied by more attention to his cock, mouth now beginning to roam its length as Kiran licked stripes up the shaft, and Cato fought between keeping his eyes on the other and letting his hand sink back onto the bed. He was painfully hard, there was so much more he wanted before he was satisfied, and it was ecstasy. Patience didn’t seem like a chore to appease Kiran anymore… it was becoming very appealing. Cato didn’t even mind when the first finger sank into his hole.

Pain was negligible to an Astartes, but the only thing Cato could think of to describe the feeling of being stretched was an ache, the push of tight muscles initially unwilling to yield. Some vague sort of discomfort, and yet even that was pleasurable, enhanced by whatever witchcraft Kiran was doing with his tongue.

“Do you want me to keep going?” The fair haired man asked softly as the intrusion of his finger rocked in and out, to which Cato groaned. “Yes or no.”

A tremor shook his thighs as he felt his muscles unspooling, from his hips downward. “Don’t fucking stop…”

“I said, yes or no.” Cato whined vocalized his displeasure as Kiran’s fingers withdrew again. This pathetic little baseline knew things about his body he had yet to discover for himself, attempting to play him like a fiddle.

Cato was letting him.

“…Yes.” 

The approving look Kiran gave him was sin, a warm rush of achievement and pride low in his gut, right where his nerves had been sparking at his touch. To Cato’s confusion he unfastened the bracelet around his wrist with some invisible attachment, then deftly wrapped its soft thin silicone around the base of his cock, where it easily snapped into place. The thought that Kiran’s wrist was comparable thickness to his shaft made Cato dizzy, made his mind flounder at thoughts of holding them for a moment before being brought back to attention.

“So good for me, thank you for using your words. Remember, you’re being patient, and you’ve done such a wonderful job at it so far.” Kiran palmed at the tip, spreading the transparent fluid that had begun dripping from it like another lubricant, his touch somehow even more silky and warm.

Two fingers this time, pressing and prodding and stretching. An Astartes could withstand any temperature, and yet Cato felt himself growing hot. An Astartes never tired, and yet his breaths were rapid, his two hearts quickening. A scissoring motion of Kiran’s fingers made that pleasurable ache grow, a feeling of fullness he wanted to chase as they crooked inside him.

“You crave approval, don’t you? Such a beautifully honed weapon, singing to be used for the glory of battle.” Three fingers, pushing, pistoning. “But there’s an easier way to feel that good, to know that you’re doing what you’re supposed to. So good. So natural.”

Cato couldn’t help it as a wanton moan slipped through his teeth, his head falling back onto the bed, just listening and feeling. An Astartes’s duty was service to the Imperium, and yet this new idea of service…

“It’s a shame for such a lovely weapon to be unused, a blade left unpolished… let yourself be used and adored.” Four fingers, now? It was hard to tell, the slender intrusion was sliding so easily. “You don’t even have to do anything, simply experience your purpose of serving mankind and enjoy it.”

Cato Sicarius had never considered submission to be an option. Defeating an opponent in debate or combat brought the joy of triumph, the glory of Ultramar at his heels. There was something perverse in those feelings coming so easily, through… obedience. It was perverse and it felt wonderful, and so very easy. Obeying and being rewarded and feeling so full as Kiran’s fingers sank into his hole, faintly aware of the obscene sound of his whole hand—

“Good boy.” There was barely enough time for Cato to process the fact that Kiran was wrist deep in him before he was seeing stars, hot sparks coursing up his spine, turning his thoughts to static. 

The feeling didn’t let up, repeatedly pressing that spot inside him, the sensation of fullness and pressure building in his gut. Pistoning in and out at a relentless pace as his legs began to shake, eyes rolling as his mouth fell open, dignity forgotten as each thrust drove into him and drew a torrent of gasps and moans from his lips.

“Fu-uck, Kiran—”

“You’re doing so well, sweet thing.” Kiran cooed over the wet and lecherous sound of his ministrations against Cato’s body. “You may move now. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

He needn’t speak twice. Heels barely kept purchase against the sheets, his hips bucked, and a vicious new rhythm formed. Every time Cato rocked back Kiran’s fingers rammed against his prostate, and thrusting forward had him rubbed up against his palm in exquisite torture, the barest shift making his head spin with pleasure. There was nowhere to move to escape those hands, and it was making him more and more desperate.

Pressure built, his cock red hot even as something felt stoppered at the base— where Kiran had placed the bracelet. He needed something, and he could barely comprehend what it was, only that denying it felt like dying.

“Ah—! Please…” Cato gasped, hips stuttering as he couldn’t decide whether to try and escape the sensation or seek more and more and more.

“Asking nicely, Cato? Do you want to cum?” That was it. He wanted to cum, he needed to, he couldn’t care less about the insubordination from Kiran or the begging he was about to do.

“Mnh… ah, please let me—!” His breath hitched like he was trying to come up for air, like swimming in the seas of his youth, desperate to surface. “I need to cum! Ple—ease…”

“Well, since you asked so nicely. Cum for me.” 

Fingers slipped around the base of his cock and in a moment Cato’s world exploded. Release rocked his nerves as his hips snapped up, something white hot and molten coursed through his cock, feeling Kiran stroking him through it as everything else dissolved around him. 

His mind was warm, pleasant fuzz, tensed muscles melting and loosening as his orgasm steadily ebbed, laying flat against the bed. The room came back to him slowly, the savory scent of sweat and his own spend registering before he finally opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him was one that had appeared in dreams he had tried to forget, but was now burning itself into his mind’s eye. Kiran Elander, covered in thick strings of cum, opaque strands in his face and hair, ruining the fine dark blue fabric of his dress shirt. The ambassador’s hazel eyes shone with affection and pride as he wrapped his bracelet back around his wrist, taking a fistful of the sheets to gently press it against Cato’s slicked asshole and wipe away some of the lubrication.

“Was that enough of a reward for you?” Elander looked… smug. Sicarius felt furious.

How dare this useless little baseline think he had any power over him? What sort of games was he playing to think he could get Cato Sicarius to submit to his whims? He could break him.

With superhuman speed he had Elander by the collar, dragging him to the mattress to pin him there, growling under his breath and trapping the little ambassador’s arms by his sides. 

Elander should have been fearful, he should be groveling for his life. Instead, after his eyebrows raised in muted surprise, he appeared to simply go numb. Body limp, face blank, staring owlishly into Sicarius’s eyes. It was like he was playing dead, but there was an air of… disappointment in his gaze. Despite everything, it made him feel nauseous and leaden. Not afraid, disappointed. As if he had expected it.

His heart certainly didn’t squeeze at the thought that Kiran had praised him so warmly, only to expect Cato to disappoint him.

Slowly, Sicarius lowered himself to lay on Elander, slipping his thick arms around that trim waist, and after a moment of hesitation began to clean him in turn. He lapped the drips of seed from Elander’s skin, letting his breathing slow as he licked his porcelain-smooth brow. For a moment the ambassador lay stock still beneath him, but ever so minutely Sicarius felt him relax, slim fingers slipping into his hair.

“...You were so good.” Elander murmured, and Sicarius realized he could scent beneath the menthol and perfume. The delicate natural warmth of skin, soft flesh and clean sheets and sweat. He was real.

[ohithankyou]

hmmm random here but thoughts on passenger princess buck? has there been anything in fandom about tommy taking charge of the driving majority of the time during their relationship, they don’t even realise that it’s always tommy who drives them around it’s so ingrained in their habits, until early in the breakup when buck kinda like on Standby Mode waiting to be picked up when he plans to go grocery shopping for baking or something, realising after awhile that he owns a jeep and can damn well drive himself to the store and idk maybe he bursts into tears a bit while driving, lips wobbling and all

i recall seeing the headcanon during the summer hiatus but i don’t remember if it was all that popular or not but i kinda love it and it makes sense w what we have in canon. when tommy asks buck out on their first date, he says he’ll pick him up (although then he takes an uber home so that confused me?), then at the end of 805, we see it’s not buck’s jeep but a truck parked at the cemetery, meaning tommy drove them there. and in 806, tommy drives over to buck’s and was going to drive them to the movies but then he found his (too good to be true) parking spot 😔. and i’m also going to say it was tommy who drove them to their anniversary dinner, bc why not? so the hc complies w canon in a way and now i’m just picturing Standby Mode buck finally getting in the car after a bit and driving himself to places that tommy once used to drive him to whole sobbing hysterically and i am unwell. so thank you anon <\3 i’m also imagining a tommy who’s waiting for someone to get into the passenger side of his truck or having the reflex of walking over to the passenger side to open the door (be he would be the kinda guy to do that), except there’s no one there anymore.

[softquietsteadylove]

I have an idea for the family law au, what if Thena has a medical emergency (up to you what kind) and Gil comforts and helps to take care of her?

"Gil!"

"Oh, uh," he looked away from the nurse going through her charts, "that's her, actually."

"You know we can't let just anyone in here, sir."

But Sersi trotted over to them, swinging her arms tightly beside her. She turned her big, sad eyes on the nurse, "I called him. Please, we need help."

The woman sighed and rolled her eyes, but it was three in the morning and she waved them along.

"Thank you," Gil murmured, joining Sersi in her trip back down the hall. "Hey, are you okay?"

She nodded, continuing her anxious little tip-toeing that made it seem like she was looking for the washroom. "Thena isn't happy that we called you. But we didn't know what else to do. Just be warned."

He didn't have any trouble imagining the Thena he knew - the Ice Queen of the office - being too proud to call for help in a situation like this. "Sprite kind of told me what happened over the phone but I don't know if I have all the details."

Sersi sighed, coming to a halt and her shoulders sagging (deeply). She toyed with the ends of her oversized green flannel. "It's our fault."

"Hey," Gil corrected immediately and without hesitation, "that's not true."

"It is," she squeaked, sniffling through the tears she was trying to keep at bay. "We were too scared. We heard a noise and asked her to look downstairs."

"And she slipped?" he guessed, which made Sersi squeeze around herself tighter again. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, leaning down slightly. "Sersi, it's an accident. It's no one's fault, okay?"

She hiccuped quietly.

"I'm gonna say the same thing to Sprite too," he continued as he moved closer to the room again. Sersi positioned herself at the door.

"Thena?" Sersi knocked gently and cracked the door just slightly at first. "Gil's here."

"Come in, Sersi." The words weren't harsh, but the tone certainly was that of the Ice Queen of the office.

Gil didn't envy the girls as he closed the door behind him. Thena was obviously having a terrible time, propped up in her hospital bed, a large, uneven bow at the neck of her hospital gown, Sprite miserably leaning against the railing of the bed like a wounded puppy.

She looked up at him, pale and with a little purple at the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Gil."

"Don't be," he excused just as easily as he had with Sersi. He seated himself next to the bed, while Sersi moved to the opposite side to join her other sister. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I broke my arm."

The girls winced, and he watched Thena physically reel in her sharp tone and cutting words. She visibly softened herself, looking at her younger sisters on her other side (her injured side).

"It's okay, the doctor said it's a minor fracture at worst, I'll be fine in a month."

Gil was willing to bet they had been told six weeks, if not longer, and she was doing her best to sugar coat things for the tearful girls. He leaned forward, making an effort to catch Sprite's eye. "You did the right thing, calling me, kid. It was the right call."

Sprite manged to lift her head enough to look at him. Despite the bluer colour than Thena's, they certainly had similar eyes. "Thanks, Gil."

Thena looked back at him, able to do little more than swivel her head and leave her arm cushioned in the temporary sling they had offered. "I'm sorry to bother you, I know it's an unholy time of night."

"Oh, that's okay," he shook his head, "I was up anyway."

"You were-" Thena shook her head faintly. "Why would-!"

Gil blinked, watching as Thena's face shifted through a couple different emotions. Usually he had to try pretty hard to read what she was thinking. But he watched as she outwardly went from confused, to horrified, to maybe even embarrassed. Without any makeup, he could see how pale she really was, and the natural blush in her cheeks.

"I-I'm sorry, we shouldn't have--I'll apologise to, uhm, whomever..." Thena trailed off, shifting herself in the bed needlessly, even risking moving her arm to do it.

Sprite and Sersi adjusted her pillows for her, trying to keep her from the need to move at all.

"You don't have to apologise," Gil frowned, just as confused. "Really, I don't mind. I mean, even if I was asleep, I would have come in a heartbeat."

Thena seemed to know even less how to respond to that. And the kids were just as confused about all of it. She cleared her throat, tilting her head in such a way that seemed like maybe she was just stretching her neck. He leaned closer so she could whisper, "I meant if I should apologise to your...date--I-I will."

"Oh!" Gil squawked, and way too loudly for a hospital at night. He shot back into his chair, ducking his head down as if someone would come into the room and shush him. "N-No, no, really, it's nothing like that!"

"Like what?" Sprite voiced first, although by now Sersi had caught on to at least something along the lines of it.

"Uh," Gil searched for the words, trying not to seem so embarrassed over what was, in actuality, nothing. He cleared his throat, "I-I just mean, you didn't wake me up. I've been working on this special recipe I've been wanting to try. It needs to be basted every three hours for a whole day, and I can't do it while I'm at work, so I try stuff like this overnight and set an alarm for myself."

"Dude, that's psycho," Sprite informed him, and was able to escape the consequences because her oldest sister couldn't reach her to pinch her arm. She corrected her statement, "I mean, uh, cool."

"How often do you cook through the night?" Thena frowned at him.

"Well, not often, and usually I would try it on the weekend, but it was on sale, and I wanted to get it at its freshest , so," he shrugged. Despite the nature of the misunderstanding, he had to chuckle a little. "I'll bring some over for you to try."

"Gil, you really don't-" Thena was in the middle of shaking her head to tell him he didn't have to do anything else.

But he did; he grinned. "I do, though. I mean, you at least need a ride home. That's why I was called, I believe."

Thena practically growled at being reminded of why they were all here together at such a terrible hour in the first place.

"And there's no way you can cook with one arm," he continued, gesturing as he did. "Even if you can type with your non-dominant hand, I wouldn't recommend trying to get in to work while it's still too fresh."

Thena huffed, throwing her head back against her pillow. "Fine, fine, yes, knight in shining armour, do assist us helpless maidens."

The girls snickered at their sister's attitude. But Gil stood and leaned into Thena's upward point of view. "Thena, I know you're more than capable. But maybe, if there's any time for me to help, it would be now?"

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the weird hospital lights, but he could swear her eyes looked a little glassy. "You've done more than enough already."

He did not agree. But he kept that to himself, resisting the urge to sort out her mussed locks of blonde for her. "I don't think of it as enough, or less than or more than. There's just what you can do, y'know? And I can, so I want to."

Maybe that was too reductive. Sprite didn't even look like she had followed what he had said. But Sersi seemed to, and had that excited look on her face as she was gazing at Thena, awaiting her response.

Thena furrowed her brows at him, creating that little knot between her eyebrows he thought was kind of cute. "Okay, counsellor, stop grandstanding."

He chuckled. She thought he made such corny jokes, but she was the one who told lawyer jokes like an old dad at a barbecue. "The defense rests?"

She didn't really laugh, but she kind of puffed out of her nose in a way that seemed amused. And she was smiling. "Fine, but at least sleep a little before you tell the office that they'll be free of me for at least two weeks."

Two weeks off for a six week injury--some would think it unreasonable, but only Thena would look at that ratio and think it was being indulgent.

"Uh, you mean I'll get us some coffee while you're waiting for that cast. Then I'll take us all home and get started on some food for you to keep microwave ready."

"Gil," she scolded him.

"That sound good, girls?" he prompted his two best allies in this argument. He could feel Thena glaring at him extra coldly.

"Yeah Thena, let Gil help," Sprite pleaded first, pinching the blanket thrown over her legs. "He has to drive us home anyway. And you're always telling us delivery fees are too expensive."

"They are," she managed to growl out even amidst her personal conflict. "Fine, but you two are going right to bed when we get home, because tomorrow is school again."

"Bro!" Sprite voiced (loudly).

"Shush," Thena silenced her with one pointed finger. "You're not the one with the broken arm, you don't need any more missed days this semester."

"Why do you get two weeks off?" Sprite grumbled lastly before slumping against the bed railing again. Although, Gil observed, she was still holding onto the blanket as a gesture of comfort. Sprite's huffing and puffing was, in its own funny way, her attempt to seem unfazed by all this.

"Because I can work from home," Thena proclaimed whether that was entirely true or not. "You can't. School tomorrow."

"But," Sersi broached as the true mediator of the three. She leaned on Sprite's shoulders, batting her eyelashes at Thena. "Breakfast sandwiches? Gil can drive us."

Thena gave Sersi a much dryer look. "Don't volunteer people to do things for you, Sersi."

"I don't know what's open right now, but maybe by the time we get all signed out," he offered, glancing at his watch. "But hey, if you guys wanna see what's in the vending machine, I won't stop you."

Thena sighed as the girls accepted his kind cash offering, waving at her on their way in promise to bring her something. She tilted her head on the pillow at him again, "what have you done?"

He leaned closer again, "I sent them away so you can tell me how you're really doing."

"My arm fucking hurts."

He chuckled again, although this time he did pull her blanket up again and at least get some hair out of his way of seeing her properly. "Did they give you enough meds?"

She made a face, and he recognised some true discomfort there. "I didn't want to ask for more while the girls were here."

"Well, that's why I'm here, isn't it?" he smiled, pressing the handy little button hanging right there for a nurse's assistance. "Don't worry about them, Thena. I'll take care of them and I'll get you all home, okay?"

She sighed, really closing her eyes since his arrival, despite her own exhaustion. "I still wish they hadn't have called you like this. But...thank you, Gil."

He would carry her if he really had to. But instead he said, "any time."

"If they get a bunch of sugar from the vending machine, don't tell me I didn't warn you," she mumbled.

"I'll take responsibility for it," he promised as he pulled his jacket off, settling in to be with them until release. "Do you want another blanket or anything too?"

"Ask if the girls can have some? We ran out of the house with whatever we could throw on in a few seconds."

"I will," he promised her, slipping her hand under the blanket and patting her arm.

[criminalamnesia]

Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Second Time's The Charm

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You and your kind of ex-wife

Lips smashed against yours before you could even compute what was going on.

They were still as soft as ever and you opened your own so Alexia could slip her tongue inside.

"Hi," She said, pulling away slowly.

"Hi."

You smiled at her.

She looked nearly the same as when you divorced her and left the country. The same cheeks. The same nose. The same eyes. The same awkward little smile on her face.

“I missed you,” She said,” I heard from Alba you were coming home and I couldn’t believe it. I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Ale.”

Her arms were open and you stepped into them. They were just as familiar as they were when you broke up and you melted into them now.

“Sorry,” Someone said,” What the fuck?! Alexia, you’re dating now?!”

Both you and Alexia looked at Mapi in confusion.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because you just started snogging her in front of all of us,” Lucy replied, hands shoved into her pockets casually,” I thought we were meant to be meeting the new medic but, no, I guess you were really getting acquainted.”

You laughed, shaking your head fondly as Alexia pouted, her arms tightening around you just like they did years ago when Alba teased you for being mushy.

“She’s my wife,” Alexia insisted, stamping her foot.

“Ex-wife,” You butted in quickly as the team��s mouths fell open in shock. Very few of them had been on the team the same time you and Alexia had been married, childhood sweethearts that eloped the day after you both turned eighteen.

Alexia laughed nervously and you narrowed your eyes.

You recognised that laugh. You’d heard that laugh for years when she pretended to a teacher that her homework was just in her locker and that’s why she hadn’t handed it in or when she promised Eli that she wasn’t the one that broke her favourite glass cabinet and it was really her who had kicked a football right through it.

You knew that laugh very well.

“Alexia,” You said, teeth gritted,” What did you do?”

“Now, amor,” She said,” Just remember that-“

“Alexia, confess!”

“I may have forgotten to file the papers.”

“Alexia!” You snapped before sighing. A bubble of laughter emerged from your throat until you were trapped in an almost hysterical laughing fit. “We signed them together. At the kitchen table. How did you forget?”

“I promise I was going to!” She insisted,” But I had other stuff to do and it just got buried and Mama did some cleaning and she must have shredded them on accident!”

“Alexia, that was years ago! Are you saying that we’re still married?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On which answer will get me in trouble.”

Fondly, you tugged on her ponytail. “You are so lucky I love you.”

She grinned. “Enough to stay married?”

You shrugged. “Well, it’s a hassle to file the papers and work out the separation of assets again.”

“Oh, thank god.” Alexia fished something out of her pocket and it was only when she slid it onto your finger again that you recognised it as your wedding ring. She was the one that had bought them and while you knew that hers had remained on a chain around her neck, you hadn’t ever wondered what had happened to yours after you returned it.

You just assumed it had been thrown to the bottom of her jewellery box.

“Have you been carrying that around since you found out I was coming home?”

Like a professional, she skirted around your question. “Home! You need to move in again! The clothes you left all got put into a storage locker so we should probably swing by there after work. Your office is practically the same but kind of dusty so I’ll clean it up while you unpack.”

You nodded, mulling over the plan in your head. “You know that if I have back in then so does Mr Stinky.”

Alexia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You still have him?”

“Yes, Ale! Just because I moved to England doesn’t mean I abandoned my cat!”

She pursed her lips before admitting. “I think there’s still a few of his toys under the sofa. I can never manage to get them all.”

“And I want the left side of the bathroom sink.”

She nodded before freezing. “Hey! Wait, no! That’s my side! That’s always been my side! You can’t just take it!”

You flashed your ring. “You want this to work? I want the left side of the sink.”

“Well…I want…I want…I want the right side of the dresser!”

“Done!”

“Done!”

“Sorry, no,” Mapi butted in. You’d almost forgotten that you were meant to be introducing yourself to the team. “Not done. Let me get this straight. You two got married, divorced but not really and now you’ve decided to get back together?!”

You shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“But you divorced!” It was clear that she was struggling to wrap her head around this.

“It wasn’t really a breakup though,” Alexia said flippantly,” We still hooked up every time she came home. We only really tried to get a divorce because she was leaving for England. I was clingy when I was younger.”

The whole team pointedly stared at Alexia’s hands on your waist and how they hadn’t moved but to put your ring back on your finger.

“Clingier,” You amended,” And I needed to leave for more money. We decided it would just be easier to get divorced but I guess that didn’t work out.”

“Oh!” Alexia said suddenly,” I need to tell Mama! She’ll be so happy! She’s always talking about you to everyone.”

“Oh, I’m glad. I’ll have to call my Mama too. She’s always telling people that her daughter-in-law is Alexia Putellas. You’ll have to come to Sunday lunch this week. My aunts and uncles will be there.”

“Next week we’ll go to mine then,” Alexia agreed,” Mama will want you to try her paella again. She tweaked the recipe.”

“Oh, great! I love Eli’s paella. My-“

“No!” Mapi said, pointing at both of you in turn,” This is moving so quickly. I’m sorry but what the hell?!”

“Oh,” You said,” I didn’t introduce myself properly. I’m y/n. I’m the new doctor on the team. Alexia’s…well I was going to say ex but apparently we’re still married so I’m Ale’s wife! I look forward to getting to know you all.”

[rafesangelita]

cowboy!rafe who wakes up to farmer’s!daughter!reader making him breakfast in one of his shirts 🥞 fluff with a little bit of spice please! thank you so much, i love all of your works!

warnings: suggestive language, fluff, suggestive ending

a/n: lol i made breakfast this morning and listened to this song, so that’s what i imagined lol

rafe was a heavy sleeper, but when he smelt crispy bacon in the air and heard ‘foreigner’ playing on the radio downstairs, he figured he’d go check on what woke him up so pleasantly this morning. wearing nothing but his flannel, there you were making a full table of breakfast. fried eggs, pancakes, bacon and hashbrowns.. all of rafe’s favorites. deciding he wasn’t going to make his presence known just yet, he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching as you swayed your hips to the music.

“i’ve been waiting for a girl like you to come into my life..” rafe whispered the lyrics to himself, his eyes traveling down to your bare legs. you were really in for it if he found out you weren’t wearing anything underneath the worn out fabric. rafe could see you pop a finger in your mouth to try the strawberry jam, the tip of his tongue running across his bottom lip. there was something about a beautiful woman, his woman, making breakfast after a long night of love making that just made him want to propose to you right then and there.

deciding he couldn’t keep his hands to himself any longer, he snuck up behind you, lifting you off of the floor by your hips. “ray!” you yelped, laughing hysterically as he showered you in kisses. “what are you doing up so early?” his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest as your head rested in the curve of his neck. “making my favorite man one helluva’ breakfast. ‘figured you’d wake up hungry after last night..” he hummed. “oh, i woke up hungry all right.” you shivered when you felt his fingers trailing themselves down your stomach.

it wasn’t long before he had you sitting on top of the counter, his stature standing firmly between your thighs as he kissed you sloppily. with your nails digging into his skin, a silent plea for him to take you upstairs, you and rafe groaned when he leaned an arm against the cabinet, the old wood creaking under his weight. “you ‘turn that stovetop off?” he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he took two handfuls of your ass. you nodded your head, both of you abandoning the feast downstairs for something much more.. filling.

[norrizzandpia]

Reckless Driving (LN4)

Summary: When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!

Warnings: Absolutely none. TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF. ⚠️⚠️ (but if I missed anything lmk)

"Hi, everyone! Today, I am out on the Silverstone Circuit with none other than my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n!" Lando's calming voice brought Y/n nothing but anxiety as she waved to the camera. To say she was nervous for their planned youtube video for Mclaren would be an understatement. She had lost sleep over this. Even though Lando had assured her he would keep her safe, she still couldn't shake off the weariness.

Lando smiled down at her pale face before continuing, "As requested, Y/n and I are going to be taking out onto the circuit a new Mclaren and while I drive, she will be asking me questions which I will answer." He flashed his charming smile at the lens of the camera facing them, "She may be nervous, but it's happening!" He smiled mischievously at her as he grabbed her hand and led them toward the car a few feet behind them.

When they reached the passenger seat and Lando gestured for her to get in, she froze. Standing there with her arms glued to her side and her eyes trained on the seat staring back at her, she felt Lando's presence come closer before his hands landed on her arms and his lips came to rest near her ear.

"Baby, it's going to be fun. Trust me, you know I wouldn't put you in any danger. When you get in that car, your wellbeing will be my responsibility and you know I won't jeopardize it." He whispered for only her to hear.

His words and grounding hands were able to soothe her rapidly beating heart as she took a step into the passenger side of the sports car. Looking back up at Lando, who was bent at the waist and resting his arm on the roof so he could meet her gaze, she found his big smile and a look that said he was proud of her. Leaning into the car more and crowding her space, he laid a kiss on her lips, something the crew were eager to pick up on the footage and give the fans what they wanted.

"Thank you, my love." He said against her lips, his breath fanning out around her face and making her feel warm on the inside.

He soon was pulling away and shutting her door, jogging around the car with rosy cheeks to get to his side. Once he was in, he met her eyes again and laid a hand on her thigh, giving the soft skin a firm squeeze. Before their intimate moment could go any further, Lando's assistant was knocking on Y/n's window and gesturing for them to lower it.

With the cracked window, she was handing Y/n the question cards and reminding the couple to keep it as PG-13 as possible.

"Lando, I'm looking at you. Our usual audience with you is young girls, so please don't pull what you did in the last video where you wouldn't shut up about Y/n's body." Charlotte's words made Y/n blush furiously and Lando laughed hysterically. That video had been filmed two weeks before this one and for some reason, as Carlos and Lando tried Japanese food, he couldn't stop talking about how hot he thought his girlfriend was. Carlos found it amusing as well, but the boys were scolded soon after for making the video risky to post with all the pre-teens who followed them. Nonetheless, the video went viral and everyone was fawning over how cute their favorite F1 couple was.

"I can't make any promises." His comment earned him a glare from Charlotte whose eyes alone could have sent him lying six feet under. "Okay, okay! I won't make any comments like that!" He exclaimed as he raised his hands in surrender, his palms beginning to sweat under her intense stare.

Finally, the couple was left alone to have a conversation while Lando went over 100 miles per hour. If she wasn't nervous before, Y/n was nervous now. She felt like she could puke all over the front of the car once the engine started and Lando's foot came to step on the pedal.

He started out slow, wanting to maneuver his way onto the track before fully stepping onto the gas. Once he made it to the entrance, he stole a glance at Y/n who was clearly alarmed by his hesitation.

Lando sighed as he leaned over the center console and planted a kiss on her shoulder, "We don't have to do this if you're too nervous, Y/n. Seriously, they have so many other youtube ideas to fill this one with. Darling, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to. No one's going to be upset with you."

She smiled at him as her head rested on the seat beneath her, "No, let's do it. I trust you and I know, with you, anything can be fun, even a death ride."

Lando laughed and nodded his head, retreating back to the steering wheel and putting the car in drive. Before he could give her time to go back on her answer, Lando was speeding off and reaching 80 miles per hour in seconds.

The first thing that came out of Y/n's mouth was not the questions she held in her hands, but an ear piercing scream that had Lando laughing hard.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, "You can't scream like that!" He said through all his laughing as she braced one hand on the window and another on the roof of the car.

He heard her breathe loudly before muttering "Okay, okay" to herself and reading the first question, "What is your least favorite part about being an F1 driver?"

Lando didn't have to think twice about his answer as he rounded a corner and Y/n let out a strained, unidentifiable sound, "My least favorite part is how much it keeps me away from you. I'm always traveling and even though you can come with me sometimes, I'm still away from you more than I would like."

Even through her anxiety, Y/n's heart warmed at his words and she smiled to herself as she read the next question, "What was the first thing you noticed about me when we were first introduced to one another?"

As he went down a straight, Lando stole a suggestive glance at Y/n. The two knew exactly what his answer was considering they had talked about it multiple times over the few years they had been together. When they first met in a club with their mutual friend, Y/n had been wearing a tighter dress that showed more cleavage than she would have anticipated, and since Lando was taller than her, his first glance at her wasn't her face, but her boobs. His continuing glances throughout the night hadn't gone unnoticed by Y/n and if it wasn't for his charming personality, she would have been put off. Lando had since apologized profusely if he made her uncomfortable with his inappropriate eyes, but because of how much she loves him and the fact that he means well, she didn't take it seriously.

Meeting his gaze from the seat beside him, the couple let out a few giggles and when Lando was about to answer honestly, he remembered what Charlotte had warned him about earlier, "Your bod- um, I mean, your eyes?" His statement sounded more like a question which made Y/n keel over with laughter. However, her laughter was interrupted when Lando sped up and took a narrow left turn. With another scream and plea for Lando to slow down, Y/n asked the next question.

"What's been the best thing that came out of your F1 career?" She white-knuckled the handle on the door.

"Well, there are a few things," Another turn of the steering wheel, "Being able to work with amazing drivers has been surreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream, being able to do what I love for work, and, last but not least, meeting the people that introduced me to you."

With a quick glance, Y/n and Lando were smiling widely at each other, "Baby, you are so sweet." She said as he blushed at the pet name and praise.

At the next question, Y/n laughed, already knowing the answer to it, "Have you ever lied to get out of a work meeting or PR event or anything of that sort?"

Lando's jaw opened and closed, "Oh god, I'm going to get in so much trouble. Yes, I have." Y/n was about to speak when he beat her to it, "BUT, it was only because you were really sick and I didn't want to leave you bed-ridden for hours."

She remembered that week very vaguely considering she felt like she was knocking on death's door. She did, however, remember Lando coming into their bedroom in a full tuxedo rambling on about how he wasn't going to his event because he was too worried about her. She had been so out of it, she let him take off his suit jacket, tie, and shoes, so he could unbutton a few buttons on his white shirt and roll up his sleeves to get into bed with her. If she hadn't been so sick, she would have refused his help and sent him off to his event, but once he got under the covers and wrapped her in his arms, she couldn't allow herself to try and push him out of bed.

As he came up on the last straight, Y/n asked her last question, "If you could, what would you change about your life?"

"I would marry you." His answer came out quickly and Y/n had to make sure she heard him right as he came to a full stop in front of the crew.

Lando's nerves took over as he studied her blank expression, although they disappeared when her face broke out into that smile he loved so much.

"I would marry you too." Each of them stared at the other as they laid their heads on the back of the seat. The cameras around the car caught the couple's dazed, lovesick look, something the fans would obsess over in the coming weeks.

To be honest, neither of the two could have anticipated how viral the video would go after it was released. Millions of people viewed and shared the challenge which introduced more people to F1. The clip of Lando saying Y/n's body for what he noticed first about her was an ongoing meme that, thankfully, the fans didn't take too seriously, and the clip of Lando saying he would marry Y/n was posted by millions, saying how it called them single in multiple different languages.

The only con that came out of the video was that, because of its incredible popularity, Y/n was asked to drive in a sports car with Lando all over again.

[sserpente]

Gifts and Roses

The other day, you saw a trend going around on the Internet where girlfriends shove some flowers into their boyfriends’ hands when they come home and then close the door on them only to then pretend their boyfriends got them for them. Now that sounds like way too much fun to pass up. Good thing Sylus is about to pick you up…

A/N: I saw this on the clock app just now and ran to write this. Have fun!

Words: 1162 Warnings: fluff

The trend was all over the Internet. It was funny if anything and your fingers were itching to try it with Sylus. For the laughs. And his reaction.

He was on his way to you now to pick you up to stay with him in the N109 zone over the weekend, spending some time with him, training together…perhaps you could even convince him to do a cheesy movie night with you.

For now, you’d found the perfect spot to hide your phone to record him. You’d strike when he was about to walk through the door. You looked at your Hunter’s Watch. Which should be any moment.

His knock came as if on cue. Confident, loud…how on Earth did he manage to make his knock sound dominant? You shook your head and quickly grabbed the flower bouquet you’d bought this afternoon. Two dozen red roses that smelled heavenly.

You giggled. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face. Next thing he knew, you opened the door energetically only to shove the flowers in his hands.

“Good evening, ki—”

Then, you shut it in his face again before he could finish his sentence. Five seconds passed, then ten. Enough time for you to cover your mouth with your hands to stifle a hysterical laugh. You had never seen him so taken aback before. Oh, that video was going to be gold!

Finally, he knocked again. You took a deep breath before you swung it open again. He was blinking as if I’d suggested he should start a singing career. “What…the hell was that?”

“Sylus! Oh, what, flowers, for me? Oh, you didn’t have to, that’s so sweet of you! Thank you! Come on in!”

Sylus tilted his head and smirked. “Your antics are getting crazier by the day. If you wanted me to bring you flowers, kitten, all you had to do was ask.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he handed the roses back to you and kissed your cheek in greeting.

“It doesn’t count if I have to ask for them. Besides, your expression was priceless. It…was mainly because of this Internet trend so I set up my camera to—”

Sylus shut you up with a wild kiss. “You recorded me?” he asked then, hands still cupping your cheeks.

“…Yeah?”

“You are testing my patience, kitten. One of these days, you will successfully get on my last nerve and claim it for yourself.”

You grinned. “Would you like some dinner before that happens? I ordered some food for us.”

Sylus nodded. Amused still, he watched you retrieve your phone and followed you into the kitchen where you put the flowers in a vase before you grabbed the still-warm bags of food from the counter to make your way over to the dining table. Sylus had taken a seat already, one of his legs draped over his knee. He was engrossed in his phone all of a sudden and didn’t even look up when you served the food and eventually joined him.

“Busy week?”

“Hmm? No…surprisingly, it wasn’t too busy.”

“Who are you texting then? Are you sending angry emails again?” You raised an eyebrow. Sylus had a knack for terrifying people with his emails. You felt sorry for the poor guy at the receiving end of this one.

“No. No angry emails this time.”

You cleared your throat. “Okay then…I guess I’ll just start eating.”

With a start, Sylus paused and met your gaze. “Are you upset?”

“No! No, I just…I’d rather talk to you than watch you type away on your phone while we eat is all.”

He gave you an amused but honest smile, put his phone back into his pocket without another comment, and picked up his chopsticks instead.

“Thank you. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I qualified for the Senior Hunter Contest this week! The trials are starting next week. Would you…train with me a little over the weekend?”

“Were you now?” He chuckled. “I expected no less from you, Miss Hunter. Well done. Of course, I’ll train with you. But only if you listen to me when I tell you to rest. Unlike last time, hmm?”

“I passed out once, are you going to hold this against me forever?”

He leaned forward as if to make a point. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. So…how was your week?”

You both finished your meal chatting about dubious business deals, Luke succeeding in doing a backflip for the first time and an angry email Sylus did send out on Thursday. Once you were done and you’d cleaned up, he grabbed the bag you’d packed for the weekend and beckoned you to follow him.

You had been looking forward to riding his motorcycle again all week. His affinity for ignoring speed limits (or lack thereof) aside, it was one of your favourite ways to spend time with him. The thrill that connected Sylus and you on your way back to the N109 zone was truly unmatched.

You took a deep breath when you arrived and took your helmet off, inhaling the crisp night air. You absolutely had to put ‘go for a drive’ on your weekend to-do list as well. Perhaps he’d even let you drive yourself. You rather liked the idea of him wrapping his arms around you for a change.

“Come. You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not!” Your body made you yawn before you could stop yourself. Traitor.

Sylus smirked. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to try and overthrow your sleep schedule every other weekend, kitten. I can stay up long enough for us to spend time together regardless.”

“I know but…”

“No buts.”

His large hand found your waist after he dismounted his bike himself, took your bag, and led you inside. Unlike what you had expected, however, he didn’t take you to his bedroom as usual but the guest room.

“I have some work I need to finish. I don’t want to disturb your rest.”

“I don’t mind. I like your bed better than—”

You paused when Sylus opened the door. The guest room didn’t look like you remembered it. Roses. Hundreds of them, decorating every single surface. Even on the bed, there were dozens of rose heads and the floor was speckled with fresh petals.

Your jaw dropped. “S-Sylus…”

“I had Luke and Kieran bring them to the guest room as soon as they were delivered.”

Delivered? “Wait…That is what you were doing on your phone during dinner? You ordered roses? Oh, Sylus…I feel bad now.”

“Don’t. My kitten wanted flowers so I got her flowers. And in the future…” He hugged you from behind, his hot breath ghosting over your ear. “…you better stock up on your vases, sweetie. And no more secret filming me, yes?”

You flipped around and grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I promise. But only if you stay with me until I’ve fallen asleep.”

Sylus smirked. “Deal.”

[amirasainz]

Ok, hear me out. Carlos, who looks after drunk reader. She is like hyperactive and he is trying to look after her.

Thank you💜💜💜

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Hyperactive night's

The club was alive with music, lights, and the sound of clinking glasses, but Carlos Sainz was on high alert. His girlfriend, Yn, was very, very drunk. He glanced over at her, perched on a barstool, swirling the remains of her cocktail and giggling at nothing in particular. They were out clubbing with friends, most of whom were still dancing and having a great time. Carlos, however, had taken on the role of the responsible one tonight, his only drink being a steady supply of sparkling water.

Yn wasn’t just tipsy—she was gone. Her hyperactivity had kicked in about half an hour ago, and Carlos had been chasing her around the dance floor ever since. She had now turned her attention to him, her eyes wide and full of excitement, like a kid in a candy store.

“Carlitoooos!” she screeched over the music, her hands flapping in front of her as if she’d just discovered that she could, in fact, move them.

Carlos, used to this by now, leaned in with a half-smile. “Yes, amor?”

“I wanna—I wanna dance more!” she announced, wobbling off the barstool and stumbling straight into Carlos’ chest. “Let’s dance, papi! Wooo!” She flailed her arms in an uncoordinated attempt at a twirl.

Carlos caught her before she could faceplant. “I think you’ve danced enough for tonight, no? How about we head home, and I’ll make you some water?” He spoke gently, knowing that trying to argue with Drunk Y/N was like trying to reason with a hurricane.

“Water?!” She looked at him as if he’d suggested she drink paint. “Nooo, I want another margarita! Pleeease, Carlitos. Pleeease. I need it! We’re celebrating!”

Carlos chuckled and shook his head, trying to steer her toward the exit. “You’re definitely not having another margarita, amor. Let’s go.”

But Yn was slippery, like a drunk eel, and before he could grab her, she darted back into the crowd. “Catch me if you caaaan!” she giggled, weaving through people like she was running a race. Carlos sighed. Why did she have so much energy when she was drunk?

He waded through the sea of people, dodging sweaty dancers and a guy who had clearly been trying to flirt with anything that moved. Finally, he found her standing near the DJ booth, trying to bribe the DJ with the half-eaten nachos she’d somehow acquired.

“Please play ‘Despacito,’ I’ll give you this!” she said, holding up a sad-looking nacho with one soggy corner. The DJ looked both confused and mildly entertained.

Carlos swooped in just in time, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Sorry, man. She’s had too much.” He flashed the DJ an apologetic smile.

Yn was having none of it. “Nooo, Carlos! I was this close to getting ‘Despacito!’ Why are you ruining my vibe?”

“I’m saving your vibe,” Carlos said, steering her back toward the exit once more. “Come on, let’s go. Fresh air, remember? You like fresh air.”

Yn looked up at him, her eyes wide with sudden excitement. “Fresh air! The ocean! Carlos, let’s go to the ocean!”

Carlos blinked. “Wait, what?”

But it was too late. She was already bolting for the door, her heels clicking wildly on the floor.

“Yn, no!” Carlos shouted, following her out of the club. His legs may have been trained for F1 racing, but right now, it felt like he was competing in an Olympic sprint. Yn was shockingly fast for someone who could barely walk in a straight line.

They burst out into the cool night air, Yn laughing hysterically as she ran down the street toward the beach, which, unfortunately, was only a few blocks away.

“Yn, stop running!” Carlos called after her, trying to catch up. He could feel his heart pounding—both from the physical exertion and sheer panic. She was drunk and running toward the ocean. This was the stuff of nightmares.

Yn, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She kicked off her shoes and started running barefoot down the sand, her arms outstretched like she was about to take flight.

“I’M A MERMAID, CARLOS!” she screamed, spinning in circles as she headed for the waves.

Carlos finally caught up to her and tried to grab her arm, but she dodged him, giggling like a madwoman. “No! Let me live my dream!”

“Your dream is to drown?!” Carlos panted, still trying to corral her as she charged toward the ocean like it was some kind of mystical destination.

“I’m gonna swim!” she announced proudly, stepping into the water. The cold shock of it made her shriek with glee. “It’s so cold—I LOVE IT!”

Carlos practically dived after her, grabbing her around the waist before she could go any deeper. “Nope. No swimming. Out of the water, mermaid. You’re coming back to shore.”

Yn kicked and flailed in his arms, laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Carlos! You’re ruining my ocean adventure!”

“Your ocean adventure is over. You’re freezing, and you’re going to catch a cold,” he said, dragging her back to dry land.

She sagged in his arms, finally giving up, but still grinning from ear to ear. “I was having so much fun.”

“I know you were, loca,” Carlos said, setting her down on the sand. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “But I can’t let you drown. You’re not actually a mermaid.”

She blinked up at him, her expression suddenly serious. “You don’t know that.”

Carlos laughed despite himself. “Yes, I do.”

Yn looked up at the stars, then back at him, her eyes softening. “You’re the best, Carlitos. I love you so much.”

Carlos smiled, sitting down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm. “I love you too, but you’re never drinking this much again.”

She giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Deal. But only if you promise to always save me when I try to swim after too many margaritas.”

“Always,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But next time, you’re staying on the beach.”

Yn smiled, snuggling into him as she closed her eyes. “Okay, but can we go back to the club tomorrow? I still need to hear ‘Despacito.’”

Carlos groaned, looking up at the sky. He was never letting her near a DJ booth again.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

hysteria

kinktober, day twenty-eight

a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.

summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation

word count: 1607

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

“I-I do?” 

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”

Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”

“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”

“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”

“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”

“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”

Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover. 

Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so. 

“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.” 

As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.  

Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath. 

“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in. 

Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing. 

Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?” 

Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”

“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”

“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.

As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”

“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you. 

“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.  

Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”

Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”

“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into. 

The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”

“You wanna get better, don’t you?”

Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”

“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”

“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf. 

“Be a good girl and take it.”

When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream. 

“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew. 

Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”

Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with. 

“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter. 

Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.

“Ah!”

“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”

Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall. 

“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear. 

When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum. 

Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you. 

“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”

Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Pride ! PJO or Time Travel drarry if you please ? Thank you !!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Poseidon hadn’t known what to expect, when he’d found Sally near hysterical and their son’s empty room, when he’d gone to the armory and found a sword missing from the armory with comical IOU scratched in it’s place. He had thought Sally’s mortal mind simply did not have an appreciation for scale, that a teenage demigod was far enough from a seven year old one as to appear closer to a god than a mortal.

He'd underestimated Sally. Not the first time. Hopefully the last.

Percy, nearly fully grown, tips his head back and meets his gaze evenly. He understands why Sally mistook them at first glance.

He doesn’t know if he’s ever had a demigod child take after him quite this starkly before.

“Your mother is beside herself.”

Percy winces, pulling a knee to his chest. “Yeah. The Mist is taking care of the mortal stuff, right? No one’s blaming her for anything.”

Poseidon’s lips thin. “No. Your lack of presence is simply being – ignored.”

Demigod children die young all the time. It wouldn’t do for mortal law enforcement to look into it to closely.

“That’s good,” Percy says. “I should call her. I just don’t know what to say.”

“Why did you call me?” he asks, instead of any of the other questions he’s burning to know the answers to. Just meeting him has been enough to answer some of them.

Persephone’s influence lingers around him so powerfully that if he didn’t know better, he’d be questioning if Percy was his son rather than hers.

He resists the urge to ask after the child version of his son. Sally has already said that Percy doesn’t know, and besides, the difference is not as jarring for him as it was for Sally. He has very little to compare him to.

Percy shrugs. It’s insolent and leaves Poseidon wondering what type of relationship they have in the future that Percy is both this easy in his presence and that Poseidon allowed his son to do something this monumentally stupid in the first place.

Then again, with Persephone’s hand in this, it’s likely he had very little say in it.

“You and Mom are the only ones who know who I am,” he says. Percy couldn’t have known that he’d spoken to his mother before calling him, but he supposes that’s irrelevant. He knows his blood. Barring that, he knows his own eyes. “I guess I just – will you look out for them? If something happens to me?”

Poseidon looks over at the cliff’s edge, at the three sleeping children huddled around a dying flame. Athena, his enemy. Hermes, who he’s never called a friend. Zeus, who’s child shouldn’t even exist, although he acknowledges the irony there. “Is she the child of prophecy, then? Is that what all this is about?”

“She’s a child,” Percy says, voice suddenly hard. “They all are. Isn’t that enough?”

Ah. There’s Sally in him.

“Are you not also a child?” he asks gently.

He snorts. “No. Technically, barely, but not really. This isn’t about me.”

Poseidon thinks it is. He doesn’t see how Percy can be this impossible and this powerful and have this not be about him.

He thinks he knows exactly why Percy has traveled to the past. He doubts it was Persephone’s intention, because she knows better than to believe this is a plan that could work, but maybe it doesn’t have to. She’s clever enough to account for Percy’s choices.

Instead of saying any of that, he rests his hand on Percy’s shoulder. He’s gratified when he leans into it. He must not have been too terrible a father. “You are my child.”

“Dad,” he sighs.

Poseidon squeezes before letting go. “Alright. If something happens to you, I’ll look out for your strays.”

“They’re my friends,” he corrects, but Poseidon is already leaving.

Athena’s child is stirring. It would be just like her get to see something she shouldn’t and wreck his son’s plans, foolish as they may be.

[ennabear]

BAE. i absofrickenlutely NEED you to write something along the lines of decorating sevika with crimis boas and lights and whatever, maybe while she's sleeping idfk- and have her be like 😠 butt because reader is so cute and sev loves them sm, she can't hide her smile OR WHATEVER THE FUCK I SAID U KNOW WHAT I MEAN😭😭

i also made this for you. um. idk. it's not very. crimis sevika, but more crimis if it was sevikamas. imagine her trapped in an ornament ok plu shut ya face now bai luv u o masterful sevika writer

HAIII PLUTOBAE HEHEHE thank you for this idea, you cooked fr!!!! i’m featuring jinx in this because i’m a sucker for the found family trope and also her ass would LOVE to prank sevika LMAOOO 😭 AND THANKS FOR THE ORNAMENTS I’M HANGING THEM ON MY SEVIKAMAS TREE!!!!

one last thing, idk if they celebrate or even know about christmas in zaun so just pretend they do for a sec… thanks guys!!!

potential s2 spoilers under the cut!! read at your own risk!!!

sevika’s been stressed out of her mind. she’s not used to having this much power, but with silco gone it’s necessary. she’s also had no choice but to take jinx under her wing, which she’s not exactly thrilled about, especially now that jinx has taken her own little cub under her wing too. exhausted is an understatement. she’s got no clue how to lead a rebellion, and much less how to parent.

so you feel a little bit mean for what you’re about to do, but your wife deserves some giggles in these hard times, no matter how pissed she’ll initially be. jinx giggles as she tiptoes toward sevika’s slumped over form, her snores echoing through the room. you hope your wife enjoyed her sleep while she could.

jinx pokes her a few times to make sure she’s sound asleep, and if anything it only pushes sevika deeper into her slumber. you coo at your wife, she finally looks so relaxed after these past few weeks. jinx sticks her tongue out and pretends to gag at the affection you show to your wife, but she quickly switches back to excitement when you hand over a long rope of sparkly red tinsel.

she wastes no time in wrapping it around sevika and tying it to the chair with intricate knots. sevika doesn’t wake up as she gets restrained to the chair, not as you lift up her heavy new arm and wrap it in brightly colored lights, not even as jinx sticks a few shiny bows to her head. “ready?” she asks.

“ready.” you laugh, preparing yourself for the way sevika’s gonna bitch and moan when she wakes up. once jinx presses a few buttons, the loudest version of ‘get jinxed’ booms through the room, and you jump back in surprise. it’s so loud you swear the whole building shakes, and sevika’s awake in an instant with her arm rattling to the sound of the bass.

“turn it off, jinx!” she shouts, wiggling against her restraints in an attempt to cover her ears. “JINX?”

as soon as she catches sight of the blue-haired girl clutching her stomach in a fit of laughter, she looks like she’s about to smash the kid to pieces. “JINX!” she shouts over the music, “TURN IT OFF.”

jinx rushes over and shuts the music off before her own eardrums blow out, but quickly returns to giggling hysterically. “merry christmas, sevika. you’ve been jinxed!” she laughs. “you should’ve seen your face! i didn’t think you could look any angrier than you already do!”

“what the fuck is this!?” sevika shouts with that deep growl that you love in her voice. “what the fuck is wrong wi—” and then she sees you. you’re laughing nearly as hard as jinx, and she can’t help but gawk at you. your smile is her favorite thing in the world, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping her going lately, but how could you be so cruel?

taking advantage of sevika’s surprised, annoyed, and offended state, jinx ties a new string of white lights to the back of sevika’s chair and starts running around her in circles. “you’re in on this?” sevika asks you.

“well, yeah.” you admit, stepping closer to her. your wife gasps and blinks at you blankly. “how could you?”

“you were asleep,” jinx cuts in. “that’s what you get for falling asleep on the clock.” sevika sighs at this, closing her eyes to keep herself under control before she can spew insults at jinx. “i’m not ‘on the clock’ you brat. it’s early in the morning, and i wouldn’t be so tired if you knew how to clean up your own messes.”

you settle yourself on sevika’s lap, slinging your legs over her as she tries and fails to wrap you in her arms. “you look cute.” you say. “i don’t look cute. untie me.” she demands. you ignore her, instead picking up a few ornaments and hanging them from the little half-ponytail in her hair. jinx notices this and practically flies over, sticking a few snowflake shaped hair clips in sevika’s hair.

you can’t help but laugh at your wife, she looks exactly like a christmas tree. if trees could scowl and pout, that is. jinx joins you, stepping back to admire her work beside you. sevika’s lips twist into a flat line, her eyebrows so low they’re about to make contact with her eyes. it’s been a while since you’ve felt a true familial love, but this feels real and warm to you. you giggle even harder as a sudden love for your girls floods your heart, and sevika shakes her head at you in disapproval.

jinx shoves a mirror in sevika’s face, and this time her lips slightly twist up in the corners as she tries her hardest not to smile. she’s glowing with the amount of lights on her, and the amount of sparkly ornaments and clips hanging from her pisses her off even more. it’s ridiculous. and hilarious. and she loves you guys so much, no matter how unwilling she is to admit it.

“don’t smile…” you tease. “don’t you dare smile, sevika. don’t do it.” she shakes her head again, refusing to make eye contact with either of you and instead staring at the floor.

“i’m not… smiling.” she says, holding her lips as straight as she can. you sit yourself in her lap again, holding her close as she muffles her not-smile in the crook of your neck. “you love us.” you accuse. she sighs with a defeated giggle, a smile brighter than the lights wrapped around her body finally settling on her face. “i guess you’re right. get over here, you fucker.” she mumbles, gesturing with her head for jinx to join in the group hug.

jinx reluctantly walks over and wraps her arms around sevika as loosely as she can, although you know deep down that they both love each other more than they pretend to. you smile, pressing a kiss to sevika’s head and ruffling jinx’s bright blue hair.

“pull anything like this again, and my arm will chomp your heads off. both of you.” sevika threatens, although she means it in the most loving way possible. “that’s my arm.” jinx corrects, flicking her in the forehead. “and maybe next time you should try falling asleep in a bed.”

[vanesycho]

Baby please drop the Sunoo fwb fic, i'm craving so bad

kinktober day 26 [fwb]

|masterlist|

a/n:since you asking so nicely here it is baby, sorry to keep you all waiting, wanted to stay away from writing smut for a while. I will start filling in the others shortly, thank you for your patience, and enjoy reading.

warnings | smut, sub sunoo being dom, sunoo calling reader 'noona', fingering, eating out, sex toy(vibrator), sunoo kinda manipulates the reader by using his innocence.

wc:1,9k

Sunoo took a deep breath when you still didn't answer his phone. You weren't there when he needed you the most and he could barely keep from touching himself anymore "Ah...Y/n.." your name left his lips in a needy whine. His hand slid down from inside his shorts to his hardened cock, pressing the call button again while he started to slowly touch himself. After a few calls, you picked up the phone and heard a moan from the other end "Hi, sorry- wait.. Are you touching yourself?" Sunoo whined, closing his eyes "What do you expect me to do? I need you and you never look at your phone." he spoke needy, your giggle reached his ears and he frowned slightly, letting out another moan, his hand wasn't enough, he needed you, right now. Right now. "I'm sorry baby but I'm with someone else right now but I promise I'll make it up to you." His breath caught for a moment, he took his hand off his dick and sat up straighter, laughing hysterically "What do you mean.. You're with someone else? We didn't agree on this, we were supposed to be there whenever we needed each other, right?" There was a seething anger inside him that he couldn't make sense of, there was no rule in the agreement that you wouldn't be with anyone else, but despite this, he wasn't, couldn't be with anyone else but you. On the one hand, he knew that you were with someone else, but were you going to leave him alone and satisfy someone else right now? The feeling of neglect took over him "Yes, I know, but I can't just leave him right now, look, I'll make up for this tomorrow, hm? I have to go right now." You hung up the phone and Sunoo laughed angrily, throwing the phone somewhere randomly, brushing his hair back with his hand "Ah...She must be kidding me, fucking-" he threw his head back and closed his eyes, trying to calm down, he was looking forward to seeing you tomorrow and he was sure that he wouldn't let you get away with it.

When the next day came, Sunoo was calmer than you expected, he greeted you with a smile and invited you home. Things went faster than you expected and you found yourself directly in his bedroom in a way you didn’t understand. A little make-out session was making your body burn, Sunoo’s tongue was brazenly joining yours and he was whining between his wet kisses. When you broke away from the kiss to catch your breath, he brought his hand to your cheek, not letting you go too far. “Noona..Why did you neglect me, huh? Am I not good enough for you?” he asked in an almost whispering tone, your chest rising and falling rapidly, he knew you liked him like this, needy, hungry for your attention..He enjoyed using it on you, while you actually thought you could do anything to him, all of this was happening thanks to him, Sunoo was someone who knew how to get what he wanted and no, he wouldn’t lose you to anyone from now on, he would make sure you knew that. “I’m sorry baby..Let me make up for it.”

As you moved in for another kiss, Sunoo pulled back, you looked at him, a small grin on his face. “Apology not accepted, but maybe if you let me be on top tonight I can accept it.” You raised your eyebrows questioningly and laughed. “Really? Well, whatever you want. I wonder what you can do.” Oh, he couldn’t wait to show you that.

In no time, you were both naked, he was on top of you, spreading your legs apart and pressing his knee between your legs as his wet kisses made their way down. He could hear your breathing quicken. The kisses started from your neck first, moved between your chest and down to your stomach, lingering there for a bit, and then stopped when he reached your pussy, breathing hotly on your clit and hearing the small whimper coming from you. “Are you going to keep me waiting like this?” He laughed at your question, pulled away and leaned towards your face. “I’m sure you had a lot of fun when you kept me waiting, don’t I deserve to have the same?” He slid three fingers inside you without waiting, the unexpected movement made you hold your breath for a moment and you cursed. Sunoo leaned towards your ear "Don't spoil the game noona, you haven't been able to forgive yourself yet, just shut up and accept everything that comes from me." He looked into your eyes and smiled slightly, his damn smile looked so innocent, as if he wasn't destroying you with his fingers right now.

Fingers were moving slowly and just enough to drive you crazy, sometimes he would just wait inside you and make you push your hips against his fingers with desire, every time you did this he would let out a giggle and continue. He leaned down and didn't break eye contact, sucking your clit briefly "Tell me, did he make you feel better than me?" His fingers sped up with a sudden movement, you stopped yourself with a moan as you opened your mouth to answer, his fingers were curling inside you as if they knew it by heart and he was hitting your pleasure spot quickly with hard movements. He hit your clit with his tongue from time to time, doubling your pleasure, "Hm..Since I still haven't gotten an answer, I'll take that as a no." Your wetness was so bad that he could see the liquid slowly dripping down between your legs, he brought his tongue to your clit again. He moaned from time to time as he sucked it expertly, and the vibration made you make a whiny sound "Sunoo..Please don't stop." You could feel getting close, your chest rising and falling rapidly, Sunoo's fingers were constantly going in and out of you, the thought of making you cum made him moan softly, he couldn't wait to see how your juices were flowing from his fingers. Your pussy was tightening around his fingers, as he continued to hit your pleasure spot, you came on his fingers after a while. Sunoo continued to move his fingers inside you until you had leaked all your cum. You tried to close your legs whimpering. He laughed and slowly spread them apart with his other hand. “Good? I haven’t even put my dick in yet. Just yesterday you were with someone else and you were still this needy.”

He took his fingers out of you, you watched him as he went to the drawer next to the bed, you tried to catch your breath, Sunoo opened the drawer and spoke again "I wonder if I'm the reason for this neediness or if that stupid fucker didn't fuck you well enough." you looked at the vibrator he had picked up "Sunoo, that's enough, I want to feel you." Sunoo took a deep breath, forcibly opened your legs that you were trying to close again "I wonder how much I can make you scream without even having to put my dick in..." he turned on the vibrator and without going easy on you, he turned it on to full speed and brought it closer, the vibration you felt made you take a deep breath and close your eyes, the sensitivity you felt as you had just come made you whine but it was from the pain, you wrapped your hand around the wrist that was holding the vibrator and tried to push it away but it was no use, he grabbed your wrist that you were holding and leaned it against the bed and leaned over you "You let me be on top and now you're pushing me back?" he started moving the vibrator around your pussy, slowly lowering it down to your clit and earning a new moan, he leaned down to your ear, breathing on your neck "Noona...Please don't be with anyone else again hm?" he brought it back to your clit, the pleasure started to fill your body again, you knew it wouldn't be long before your second orgasm came, Sunoo whispered again "I want to be the only one who can reach you. I feel like I'm going to lose you when you're with someone else...You understand me, right?"

No, you couldn't understand, it was hard to listen to what he said with all this pleasure, when he didn't get an answer Sunoo smiled slightly knowing that you had reached the point he wanted and started to place small kisses on your cheek, the vibration on your clit would make you cum again, you let out a loud moan "Sunoo..." that's what he wanted to hear, just his name, the needy moans that spilled from your lips, he lived for this "Yeah? Are you close? Ah..see? I can make you cum a second time without even needing my dick." your whimpering increased, your stomach clenched, he chuckled at how devastated you were. “I’ll be the only one who makes you feel this way every time, noona…You can’t change that fact.” It didn’t take long for you to come after those words, Sunoo stopped the vibrator and put it aside, letting you recover for a while.

You looked at him with slightly open eyes, you were already tired "What's the point of all this?" You could barely speak, Sunoo pursed his lips in response to your question, then placed a small kiss on your lips "To make sure you don't neglect me again. You know we actually agreed that we could be with others but..Do you need others when I make you feel better than everyone else?" He looked at you with innocent eyes, yes you were with others but it was obvious that none of them made you feel as good as he did, "So you only want me to be with you?" He nodded in agreement in response to your question, one of his hands went to your belly and started caressing your body with slow touches "It's not hard, is it? I know I have everything you want and no one knows your tastes better than me." You laughed at his self-confidence or egotism, Sunoo was a boy of unpredictability and wasn't afraid to show it, you hummed and thought for a while before answering "I guess I can't say no to that, I'm sorry for neglecting you Sunoo, have you forgiven me now?" Sunoo smiled and approached you, placing a long kiss on your lips. "I forgive you... Sort of. There's still one thing left." You frowned slightly. You were about to ask what happened, but what stopped you was Sunoo's cock that he thrust inside you without waiting, the fullness inside you caused you to let out a moan. "Fuck Sunoo... I'm still so sensitive.." Sunoo buried his head in your neck and whined. "I don't care, I've been waiting for this moment since yesterday." He started moving inside you and cut off your whimpering with his kisses. He knew it would be easy to get you, just a few whimpers and you would take pity on him and say yes again. That's what he wanted, to make it seem like he needed you but make you need him. And as you were being drawn into his sweet trap every time, he knew that one day you would be completely trapped in his world.

[bradshawsbaby]

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨ Behind (Not So) Closed Doors✨

As promised, here’s a little story of the one prompt I got a little bit ago! Literally no one voted ‘no’ on the poll for this story and I think that’s hysterical, bunch of thirsty mfs (affectionate 💖)

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You catch Lucifer acting out on his most carnal desires…

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation, voyeurism, fingering, hand job, (oral m & f receiving), p in v

You remember first meeting the King of Hell on the day you checked yourself into the Hazbin Hotel. And you remember thinking that Lucifer looked nothing like you had pictured. Of course he was beautiful, that wasn’t shocking, but he was so…unimposing. Not only that, but he was also kind, albeit a bit dorky as well. Not that it was off putting to you, it was endearing if anything!

Although, you hadn’t spoken to him all that much since the time you’d moved in. Lucifer seemed so nonchalant and relaxed with everyone else in the hotel, save for Alastor, who you noticed always managed to get under the fallen angel’s skin one way or another. Even you knew the radio demon was playing with fire; probably wasn’t the smartest idea to piss off the most powerful being in Hell. Regardless, how he acted around you was a little odd to say the least. It seemed like Lucifer was always trying to avoid you for some unknown reason. Did he not like you?

When you had first spoken to him all those months ago, you could tell he was tense. He rambled, a lot. And he somehow managed to fumble every other word that left his mouth. He quickly left after your initial meeting, and ever since then it had been nearly impossible to get in more than five words at a time. He had an impossibly perfect disappearing act, what with his portaging abilities. One time you greeted him from across the lobby and his only response was “O-Oh! H-Hey you! Uhh, I just, umm…welp, gotta run!” and took off before you could even say goodbye. Truly bizarre.

You eventually went to Charlie, telling her that her dad was seemingly very distant towards you. “Oh, don’t worry about that!” Charlie explained. “He’s a pretty busy guy, so he’s usually popping in and out of here pretty frequently. And he’s told me on multiple occasions that he’s glad you joined the hotel! He can come off as a bit scatterbrained, but rest assured he’s more than happy to have you here! And so am I!”

You smiled and thanked her. From the few months that you’ve known her, Charlie was never one to lie, so you decided to take her words at face value. For now, at least. For some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up with Lucifer. You needed to find out.

A few nights had passed and you found yourself wandering through the lobby. The black nightgown you typically wore to bed didn't provide nearly enough heat, but you didn't want to change back into your normal day clothes either. So, you threw on your favorite pink robe before you left your room, it was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It was late, way later than you should have been awake. Even Husk was asleep, the bar sat devoid of any life. It was difficult to sleep most nights, you were still grappling with the fact that you were, in fact, in Hell. You thought you were a decent person in life. Never religious but you tried your best to while you were alive. But that didn’t seem to matter. Perhaps you should have attended church with your family more often, or donated to more charities, or not cut that one person off at that traffic light. Lying awake in your bed didn’t help these thoughts but getting up and walking around usually helped just a tad.

You glanced over to the fireplace, noticing the flames dancing against the walls. That was strange, considering no one ever used the fireplace, or at least not that you’ve seen. But then you noticed one of the large chairs in front of it wasn’t empty. A white sleeve laid across the arm rest. You walked over out of pure curiosity, just to see who was awake at this ungodly hour like you. You craned your neck to see Lucifer sitting there frozen, his head down and eyes closed with his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked troubled. Before you could speak up, you heard him mumble under his breath.

“What the hell am I going to do…”

Worried, you outstretched your hand, but stopped short of touching his arm. “Sir?”

Lucifer’s eyes shot open instantly, turning his head to see you towering over him. He leapt from his chair completely startled and began stumbling backwards towards the fire pit.

“Watch out!” you warned, gripping his hand, and pulling him towards you. Lucifer held his breath, trying to process what had just happened. His head ended up flush against your chest, your face now feeling as hot as the flames in the pit. You let go of his hand and stepped away from him as fast as you could. Lucifer remained motionless. “I-I’m so sorry, your majesty! I didn’t mean for you to…I’m sorry!”

You finally heard Lucifer exhale. He stood up straight and fixed his wrinkled jacket, making every effort to not look you in the eyes.

“It’s alright, m-my dear,” he spoke softly, “no harm done. A-And please, call me Lucifer.”

“Okay. Lucifer,” you started, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I saw you over here and I heard what you said and…is everything alright?”

Lucifer was tense again. You noticed him clench his fists. “How much did you hear?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “you just sounded worried about something.”

The king let out a sigh, letting his hands relax. “Thank you for your concern, I-I appreciate it. It’s nothing…nothing that you need to trouble yourself with. It’ll be fine.” Lucifer waved his hand, a portal now swirling open behind him, leading to his bedroom. “I think we should both get some sleep now. And t-thank you for catching me. Although, fire can’t harm me…b-but I appreciate the rescue nonetheless!” He was about to step through the portal when you caught his hand once more.

“Wait,” you said quietly. Lucifer looked down at the ground, still refusing to meet your gaze. You frowned. “Sir-I mean Lucifer…I wanted to ask you something. I need to know.” You felt his hand squeeze yours; he was tense again. “I-I’ve been feeling like I’m not welcome here by you.” Lucifer finally lifted his head, his eyes almost piercing your soul. He looked distraught at your words. You never noticed how beautiful his eyes truly were, the soft yellow complimented his pure white skin nicely. You blushed slightly but shook your head and tried to remember what you were saying. “I-I just mean, you seem to avoid me every time I’m near. If I’ve done something to upset you, I’m very sorry. And if you’d rather I’d not stay here, then…”

“NO!” he shouted, now gripping your hand with both of his. “I-I mean, no. You haven’t done anything wrong! Please…Please don’t leave. I should be the one apologizing if that’s truly how you’ve been feeling. I never want you to feel unwelcome here, especially not from me. It…It’s just that…I…” Before he could finish his explanation, his eyes dropped for just a split second before returning to yours. His gaze had somehow shifted into a more panicked expression. He let go of your hands immediately and stepped through his portal in a hurry. “I-I have to go, I’m sorry!” You couldn’t get another word out before his portal disappeared from view.

You stood alone in the parlor, alone and confused. The fire had died out, and you felt a shiver down your spine at the realization of how cold it had gotten without it. But you couldn’t let the conversation end there. You needed to know what was going on with him. You wouldn’t sleep until you did. Luckily, Lucifer’s room at the hotel was very easy to find.

You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but maybe you came on a little strong. Plus, your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more now that you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.

Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!

You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.

What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.

Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.

Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stroked his shaft.

You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.

Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course, the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”

A small gasp escaped your lips.

Fuck.

Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running until you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer avoided you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.

Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it firsthand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.

But of course, those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.

There was a knock at the door.

“H-Hey,” you heard Lucifer’s voice on the other side, “it’s me. Can we talk?”

You didn’t dare move. You hid your head in your lap, pleading silently that he would give up and go away.

You heard him sigh. “I can see your shadow, you know.”

God damn it…

Slowly you rose from the floor, your trembling hand latching onto the doorknob. But your brain wouldn’t let you turn it no matter how hard you tried. How could you possibly face him after what you saw?

“Please?…”

The way he sounded so desperate; it was impossible not to give in. With a heavy sigh, the doorknob turned and you cracked open the door just enough to see Lucifer standing just outside, his glassy eyes looking into yours. You looked away immediately.

“Hi…” you whispered staring down at the ground.

He lowered himself in an attempt to get you to look at him again. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, opening the door inch by inch until he was able to step inside. You shut the door behind him, folding your arms over your body. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence between you two was deafening, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave until you talked.

“I’m so sorry!” you both shouted simultaneously. “Wait, what?”

"Hold on now!" Lucifer interjected, "You have nothing to apologize for!"

"Of course I do!" you retorted. "I invaded your privacy when I watched...uhh, n-never mind." When you glanced in his direction, his entire face almost matched the pink circles on his cheeks. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer. "I-It was an accident! I came up to apologize for scaring you off again. But...I heard you call my name a-and I just assumed you already knew I was outside, so I opened the door and...I'm so sorry, I should have knocked, and I should have left immediately…I-"

You didn't notice Lucifer make his way towards you, throwing his hands onto your shoulders and snapping you out of your spiral. "Hey, no more of that," he soothed. "I'm not angry, and I didn't come here to scold you. This is all on me."

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes. "B-But..."

"My dear, this is my fault, not yours," Lucifer cut you off, bringing his thumb up to cheek to wipe a tear that had fallen. He realized how close he'd gotten to you in his attempt to calm you down. Flustered, he stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. You already missed the closeness. "If you'd let me, I'd like to apologize and, you know, at least attempt to explain myself. Not that what happened was excusable. But if you'd rather I leave now, I'd more than understand. And I don't expect your forgiveness. I...just thought it best to apologize to you directly instead of continuing to avoid you and pretending like nothing happened. I'm deeply and truly sorry for everything."

You felt the sincerity in his words, and you saw the pain in his face thinking he had hurt you. You couldn't let him leave. Not yet.

"Stay...please..." you managed to respond. You made your way over to your bed and gestured for him to follow. You sat down crossed legged near the edge of the bed, Lucifer mirroring your actions. You took a deep breath before speaking once more. "I'm not angry with you either, you know."

A strange mixture shock and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. "Y-You're not?"

You smiled wearily. "No, I promise. I mean, I'm a little taken aback..." Lucifer winced. "...but not in a bad way! If anything, I feel...flattered, you know?" Your face burned at your own candor. A quick glance at him showed he felt the same heat in his own cheeks.

"R-Regardless," Lucifer cleared his throat, "it was still wrong of me. I could try to give excuses about...my ex-wife being gone for more than 7 years now, or tell you that watching you from afar just sparked something in me that I hadn't felt in God know how long, or..."

"You've been watching me?" you teased, flashing him a small grin.

"Shhhhit, well, I uhh...only sometimes!" Lucifer tried to reason. "A-And not for very long! I just, umm, I just noticed how kind you are with everyone you come into contact with, and you're extremely helpful when it comes to the hotel! And your smile...I MEAN, uhh, C-Charlie absolutely adores you with the way she goes on and on about your progress! We both wonder how you even ended up down here in the first place. And well, you...you're," he gulped, "you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on..."

You sat there frozen, your body trembling slightly. Your mind raced a million miles a minute. You tried to get your mouth so form any sort of words, but nothing. Lucifer started to panic.

"I-I'm sorry! That was really forward of me! I shouldn't have-I uhh...God, this is the worst fucking apology imaginable!" Lucifer brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes and lowering his head. "Maybe it would be best if I just g-MMPH!"

You don't know what came over you, but somehow your lips crashed into Lucifer's. His hands flew from his face, now gripping the bed sheets beneath him. He sat perfectly still, but only for a moment. He couldn't help but give into you, letting his eyelids flutter closed and melting under the kiss. You pulled away after only a few seconds, Lucifer leaning his head forward slightly, still needing more. His crimson irises had grown into saucers, his face hot as the sun. Having the literal King of Hell flustered beyond belief from a single kiss was a sight you absolutely wanted to see more of.

"If you think I'm beautiful, then you are someone who is beyond beauty, your majesty," you cooed. You weren't completely sure where this sudden burst of boldness had sprung from, but you liked it. And from what you were witnessing, all signs pointed to Lucifer being completely enamored with it as well.

You went back to your seated position, but now Lucifer was on all fours, crawling ever so slowly towards you. "P-Please..." he begged, "I-I need more..." His face was now mere inches away. He rested his forehead on yours, waiting for your lips to touch his again. The faint smell of apples that hugged his skin was intoxicating.

"You want me to kiss you again?" you asked playfully. "Then you need to tell me something, darling."

Lucifer's breathing had picked up at the sound the pet name you'd given him, his eyes screwed shut. "A-Anything!"

"Tell me then," you said as you began to stroke his soft blond hair, "what were you thinking about when you were touching yourself to me?"

Lucifer whimpered against you. "Anything but that! Please! I-I can't..."

You pulled your forehead away from his, still patting his hair. "I think it's a little too late to be shy now, my king."

A low moan escaped Lucifer's throat as he inched towards you once again. "I...I was thinking...about how wonderful you would taste on my tongue...." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I was thinking about how...how pretty your lips would look around my cock." A kiss to your left cheek. "I was thinking about watching you...fuck...watching you ride my cock until I have nothing left in me." A kiss to your right cheek. "But mostly...I was thinking about how badly I want you to be mine..."

Your lips met once more, and with even more vigor than before. His devilish tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging to delve in further. When your lips parted, your tongues had clashed with such voracity that it had knocked you down onto you bed, Lucifer now completely overtaking you. His hand found the back of your head and pulled you closer into the kiss which you didn't even think possible. With his body completely flat on top of you and even through your robe, it didn't take long for you to notice a certain bulge pressing against your stomach. You chuckled lightly, causing Lucifer to pull away, knowing exactly what you had felt.

"Ha...sorry...my uhh, my body has a mind of its own," he laughed nervously. "If this is too much for you, w-we can slow down. Or just stop completely! It's...It's been a while for me a-and I don't want you to be uncomfortable..."

You placed your hand on his shoulder and gently guided him off of you, putting him on his knees. In an instant, you tossed your robe to the side, revealing your cute black nightgown that left very little to the imagination. Lucifer sucked in a breath as he frantically started shedding his own clothes as well, removing his jacket and dress shirt in a manner that really emphasized his desperation for you. You couldn't help but stare at his bare chest and how it almost glistened in the faint lighting of your room.

"Do you think you're the only one who's body is reacting to this?" You shoved him down gently onto his back, his head now resting against your pillows. "But instead of just telling you, why don't you see for yourself?" You crawled up his body, dragging yourself against home until you straddled his chest.

"Oh, fuck me..." Lucifer almost inaudibly. He snaked his hands up the skirt of your nightgown until his hands reached them hem of your panties. He looked up at you expectantly, and with a final nod from you, you felt him tug your underwear down your legs. He pulled them down slowly, lifting one leg out first and kicking them off with the other. You gazed at him seductively, your glistening entrance now mere inches away from waiting lips. Lucifer's hands grazed up your thighs before stopping just before where you needed him most. Lucifer's breath hitched.

"It's alright," you reassured him. "Touch me. Please, Lucifer..."

"Ahh, wait!" Lucifer stopped his movements entirely. With a quick snap of his fingers, you heard your door lock itself. "We don't want another incident now, do we?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, but it made you giggle, nonetheless. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling!"

Lucifer laughed. "My sweet angel, if you've learned anything about me in last few minutes, it's that I couldn't wait another second longer for you even if I tried."

With those words, you felt his fingers finally find their way to your folds. It was like an electric shock had coursed through your entire body when he touched you. He'd barely begun and you were already soaking wet. His thumb found your clit instantly as he began to rub small circles around it, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You lifted your hips slightly so his figures could push their way inside of you. Words couldn't begin to describe how good he felt. He told you himself that it had been some time since he'd been with anyone, but there was no indication of this being the case as his two digits pumped in and out of you at a steady pace. He knew exactly what he was doing. You whimpered when you felt him pull his fingers out of you, only to watch him dip them into his mouth, cleaning off your slick entirely. "God, you're more delectable than I could have ever imagined! Please, let me taste you, all of you..."You blushed hard and nodded. You scooted yourself up further, hovering directly over his lips. "Still too far..." you heard him say before his hands latched onto your hips and forced you down so you were seated firmly on his face.

"L-Lucifer!" you cried weakly, trying to pull yourself up. You knew it was futile though. Damn him and his angelic strength.

"You won't hurt me, darling, I promise," he said with a wink. "Besides, breathing is overrated..." You felt his forked tongue immediately dart in and out of your drenched pussy. Your broken moans filled the room as he ate you out like it was his last meal. Lucifer switched between tongue fucking you and sucking on your sensitive nub at a relentless pace. That coil in your stomach was tightening with each movement he made.

"Lu-Luci-fer, o-oh my God, f-fuck, I-I can't." You tripped over every other word that left your lips. Your body started to tremble and your thighs shook violently as you felt your impending orgasm. "I-I'm gonna c-cum, gonna cum, oh SSHHHIIIIITTT-FUCKFUCKFUCK C-CUMMING!" You cried out helplessly as you felt your walls clench around nothing, your juices spilling out onto Lucifer's more than eager tongue. He rode you through your orgasm, lapping you up and not wanting to waste a single drop. You felt him release his hold on your hips so you could at last move back down to his chest. You stared at him wide eyed as he looked back at you with the biggest smile you've ever seen. You felt the heat rise up your neck and cheeks as you watched him lick up the rest of your release that hung on his chin.

"W-Wow, that was...fuck, that was amazing," Lucifer sighed. "Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine," you breathed, "more than fine. You...really know how to use that tongue of yours." Lucifer flashed you a toothy grin like he had just told you the worst joke imaginable. You wanted to hide your face but damn it, he was too adorable when he looked at you like that!

"Well, you got your first wish. Allow me to grant your next one..." You shimmied down his body until your face lingered above the very obvious strain in his pants. "Let's make you more comfortable shall we?" You unhooked his belt in mere seconds, his pants following soon behind, leaving him in nothing but his briefs that already had a large wet spot in the front.

Lucifer managed to prop himself up on his forearms, his blush spreading to his entire face. "Sweetheart, y-you don't have to do that, I'm fiii-iiiiii-oooh fffffuck..." Lucifer's protest were cut short when you had brought your hand up to palm his very apparent erection through his shorts.

"Now that's hardly fair, Luci," you scolded him, "I think I deserve my fill too, don't you?" Before Lucifer could choke out an answer, you hooked your fingers along his waistband and pulled his briefs all the way down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock at last. You stopped for a moment to marvel at his length, having to stop yourself from drooling. "O-oh wow, that's umm...that's big..."

Lucifer chuckled nervously above you. "Y-Yeah, sorry about that. I think? Like I said, y-you don't have to-GAAHHH!" Without warning, you delicately gripped Lucifer's shaft, stroking it lethargically. Even though you were moving as slow as possible, the king was already a moaning mess. "S-Shit, you-fuck...feels so good..."

"Is this what you imagined, your highness?" you cooed, now rubbing your cheek against his cock in tandem with your hand. "I wanted to help you out earlier, you know that? When I saw you stroking yourself, I almost pushed opened that door so I could give you what you really wanted. But hey, better late than never!" You chuckled lightly as you licked up his shaft to the very sensitive head of his cock. The taste of his precum was addicting, you craved more. Lucifer writhed under your touch as his whimpers became music to your ears. You circled your tongue around the tip, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath you. You glanced up and noticed Lucifer's eyes were squeezed tight, with his claws digging into your sheets.

"Look at me," you ordered him while you continued to pump his cock. His chest rose and fell faster and faster as he forced his eyes open. "Good boy. I want you to keep your eyes on me." You smiled at him wickedly as you parted your lips and sunk down on his shaft.

"A-AHHH, OOOH FUCK!," Lucifer yelped as he fought against throwing his head back in pure bliss. Your warm mouth enveloped him, the taste of him was nothing short of divine. Your head continue you bob up and down, taking as much of him as you could. Lucifer was a blabbering mess, only able to make incoherent noises. His ability to think had all but disappeared. All he could focus on was the immense pleasure your sinful tongue was providing. His breaths became shallow as your mouth lingered on his cock, refusing to move.

"I-I ca-FUCK...H-HOLY SHIT," Lucifer nearly screamed, his hips now bucking up uncontrollably, forcing you to take more and more of him. "CU-CUMMING, CUMMING...MMPH OHFUCKME!" With one final thrust, you felt his cock twitch, his hot seed filling your mouth. You sucked him off through his orgasm, taking in and swallowing every bit of cum he had. Once he'd finished, you finally let go with a small *pop*. You made your way up his body once more and hovered over his face with a giant grin. You opened your mouth to show him some cum you still had on your tongue before swallowing it down gleefully.

Lucifer's hands flew to his face immediately upon watching you. "I can't believe you just did that! How am I ever going to recover?!"

You laughed as you pulled his hands away from his face, leaning down to kiss him tenderly. He happily returned your kiss, his thumbs rubbing circles on your hips under your nightgown. Lucifer leaned his head back on the pillows and tugged at the hem. "May I?"

"Of course," you nodded. He helped raise your nightgown, lifting it up and easily tossing it over your head and onto the floor. You sat up straight, straddling his stomach and giving him a very nice view of your breasts. "I know you've already felt them once tonight, but I'll let you touch them again if you ask nicely."

"Oh, ha ha," Lucifer mocked playfully, "very funny. That was technically your fault! I didn't just lay on your chest for fun, you forced me there when you pulled me away from the fire!"

You smirked and took ahold of his wrists. "Do you want to touch my tits or not?"

"...Yes, please..."

Smiling, you brought his hands to your breasts. A soft hum emitted from both of you as Lucifer began to knead at your soft mounds, his thumbs running over your sensitive nipples. Suddenly, he started to roll them between his thumb and index fingers, causing you to squeak in surprise. He sat up quickly, pushing you back so that you were now kneeling on the bed and hovering over his thighs. He took one nipple into his mouth as he continued his ministrations on the other. You moaned at the sensation, taking your hand and holding the back of his head for support. He switched sides, making sure your other nipple got the same amount of attention. The feeling of his teeth grazing you nipple sent shivers down your spine.

"Luci," you whispered into his ear. "you had one more fantasy you told me about, did you not?" Lucifer pulled away from your breasts, his eyes wide and full of anxiety. You could feel his heartbeat racing as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"O-Only if you want to," his muffled voice reverberated off your skin.

"Yes, I do." You pushed Lucifer back down gently, noticing his cock was already hard again even without any further stimulation. "My, my, eager are we?"

"Very much so, yes," Lucifer whined.

"You're adorable, you know that?" you praised. Lucifer blushed hard and tried to cover his face once more before you pinned his hands above his head. "Don't you dare hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart. I want to see every single little cute expression you make once you're inside me." A small whimper left his mouth as you released your grip on his hands. You shifted yourself in order to line up your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly rubbing it between your slick folds. "Are you ready?"

Lucifer gasped and threw his head back in response. "Y-Yes, please...need you...need to feel you..."

You began to sink down on his length, feeling him stretch you out beyond what you ever felt before. A beautiful mix of pain and pleasure coursed through you as you finally bottomed out on his cock, both of your moans echoing off the walls. Tears pricked your eyes as he filled you completely, as if you felt whole, now connected as one. You shifted your hips ever so slightly, but it was enough for Lucifer sit himself upwards and wrap his arms around you in a tight embrace.

"You really f-feel like heaven," Lucifer breathed. "P-Please...please say you'll be mine..."

A single tear drifted down your face, and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment. You eagerly returned his embrace, wrapping your arms around him and bringing him as close to you as you possibly could. “I’m yours, Lucifer.” You cupped his face in your hands and brough your lips to his, sealing your promise. Feeling him twitch inside of you, you lifted your body off of him and gently sank back down. You swallowed Lucifer's moans as you continued your pace, bucking your hips and taking all of him with each sharp thrust. Lucifer's hands flew to your hips as he helped you up and down his aching cock.

"F-Fuck, y-you're killing me here, darling, I-HNNG...I'm close..." Lucifer sobbed was your pace became relentless. His hips were now rutting into you as he slammed you down onto him. Your eyes had crossed and drool began to pour down the side of your lips. You were absolutely and unashamedly cock drunk. The tightening in your stomach became almost unbearable, your release was fast approaching and so was his. "FFFFUUUUCCKK, g-gonna cum, g-gonna-ACK, c-can I?..."

"Inside L-Luci," you pleaded, "inside...fill me n-now-GAH F-FUCK, C-CUMMING!" Your walls clenched around his thick cock, pulsating relentlessly as Lucifer continued to pound into you making your vision blur. Your cries mixed with his as you felt him empty inside of you. The grip you had on him loosened as his wings suddenly sprouted out from behind him, catching you by surprise. Lucifer didn't seem to notice, too overtaken by his orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder harshly to keep himself from screaming while his hot seed continued to pour into you. Your muscles finally relaxed as you both came down from your highs. Lucifer's tongue lapped at the mark he had left on you, soothing the sore spot. But now that he'd given you your first mark, all you wanted to do was beg for more.

"S-Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly. "I didn't mean to bite you so hard." He turned his head, finally noticing his ruffled wings. "O-Oh! Well...that's new."

You chuckled. "Your wings are beautiful, Lucifer." You ran your fingers over a few of his scarlet feathers; they were the softest things you've ever felt. His wing folded towards your touch, now almost fully engulfing the two of you. "Wait, are you apologizing for marking me? I'm yours, am I not? Now I have proof!"

Lucifer buried his face in your chest. "L-Love, you can't say things like that! You're gonna drive me insane!"

"Love?" you repeated.

He shot his head up in a panic. "I-uhh...is that okay?"

You kissed his lips tenderly. "It's more than okay, love."

You watched his wings puff up at your words, his smile wider than you've ever seen before. You then carefully pulled yourself from his lap and laid down ever so gently on his one set of wings while the other set wrapped around your body. Lucifer wrapped his arms around you once again, now feeling a double layer of protection and comfort.

"Thank you," he murmured against your ear.

"No, thank you," you whispered back. "It was wonderful, truly. And at least now I can stop worrying about whether or not you hate me!"

You heard a small hum leave Lucifer's lips. "That couldn't be further from the truth, my dearest." A placed a small peck to your forehead. "Do you...mind if I stay here tonight?"

You shook your head. "I wouldn't let you leave even if you wanted to," you teased. "You're mine now too." Fatigue flooded your body as you yawned and felt your eyelids fall. You snuggled your head against Lucifer's chest before unconsciousness had taken over.

"Forever," was the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep in Lucifer's arms.

~~~

WHY THIS ENDED UP BEING SO LONG IS BEYOND ME, HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAYS!

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[deathbxnny]

hello, jing yuan, aventurine and sunday with a teen!assasin reader who was ordered by their master to kill them but couldnt and [character] took them in due to their young age and frankly them being pitiful

Another similar ask:

hiii, dr ratio aventurine and boothill with an IPC agent/assasin teen!reader?

Reader was practically forced onto assasination, is hardened and doesnt show much emotion due to their past kinda similar to bronya zaychik backstory in the azure waters manga

This post is made in combination with these two asks, so I hope you'll like this!! And thank you to the anons for their request!!<33

Content: Angst, assassination attempts, Reader is a teen assassin that has no direct origin, platonic relationships, father/older brother figures, fluff, some brainwashing on Sundays end, sfw

Characters: Sunday, Aventurine, Boothill

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not fully proofread))

》BOOTHILL

He finds your attempt at killing him rather amusing. Maybe a bit too amusing. He laughed hysterically when he finally pinned you down with ease, thinking this was all just a joke... until he realised that you were serious.

Now, Boothill was used to people trying to off him through various ways, his robotic body the perfect proof for that, but he never had a kid try him before. And he had to admit, that you would've gotten him, if he was still fully human! Truly impressive!

He won't bother asking you where you're from or what you lead him to you in the first place. Once he gets you to settle down and hears you telling him that you can't return to your master until you kill him, he just sighs and scratches his head. Well... he doesn't really want a kid to die at the hands of their abusive master... so he supposes that he'll just have to take you in until he finds a hime for you.

He isn't put off by your emotionless behavior and even understands it very well, if anything. He doubts anyone could be happy under the harsh conditions you grew up in, but that doesn't mean that he won't try and teach you how to loosen up a bit. It doesn't occur to him over time that he never really looked out for a home for you as promised. Perhaps you have found it with him already anyway.

》SUNDAY

Sunday found your attempt quite saddening, absolutely pitiful and near pathetic, if he felt cruel that day. He felt no worry or fear, knowing that whoever sent you must've been a fool to think that a child could end him of all people, and yet, he doesn't tease nor punish you for it. It wasn't your fault that you were born to be mistreated at such a young age, after all.

He takes you under his wing as a disciple or student in a way. He wants to teach you the "truth" about life and what it means to be alive in the dreamscape. Your dreams can become true here, so why not teach you how to live on after your palms have been stained red forever?

Your emotionless and apathetic behavior does little to deter or bother him. He sees you as a child he had to save before the shadows of this sinful took over you completely. His tuning ability is not spared on you either, if that's what it takes for you to get better. He eventually starts to view you as a little sibling and is delighted when you get along with Robin.

Deep down, he will, however, always feel a little... worried that you may turn around to betray him the way you betrayed your original master by leaving him, too. But he hopes that all his lessons and the home he gave you makes you stay and be grateful for all the love and mercy he had given you

》AVENTURINE

Similar to Boothill, he finds your attempt amusing at best. Pitiful at worst, as he sees a younger him in your cold gaze. He knows he shouldn't trust you after what you just tried... but he makes a deal with you anyways, after you were forced to take a seat infront of him by some IPC guards. If you beat him in a card game, he'll let you take his life and get away with it. If you lose, then you'll have to allow him to take you in as a little "assistant" of some sort. In reality, he just wants to save you from yourself, this determination even foreign to him yet welcomed bravely.

Unsurprisingly, you lose. He jokes that it must've been due to his unbeatable luck... but he really just rigged the game a little. There was no harm in it, and if anything, he just saved your life through it. Otherwise, the IPC would've just executed you for trying to attack one of their agents. Even if Aventurine doubted, they even cared that much for him... but he won't tell you that either.

He gave you a calming, stress-free life, one far away from all the hurt and death you've been surrounded with since birth. He hears your story and perhaps even shares a part of his own, as he shows you that you are the same in a way. You don't have to kill and hurt anymore under his care, he promises you that and to a younger self he was trying to heal through it.