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qiyutism · 29 days ago

Text

"you became quiet all of a sudden. i'm not used to it."

summary: you had been working late, night after night for weeks now. you don't answer his calls, you give clearly rushed, short responses to his texts. you haven't even stopped by his studio in god knows how long. rafayel cant stand the lack of attention. can't stand being ignored. forgotten. abandoned.

had the bond your two souls share lost all meaning to you?

word count: 3,283 words

content warnings: angst with a happy ending. mentions/fear of abandonment. kissing and implied sex (if you wanna interpret it that way?) but no actual smut.

author's note: this is my first time writing a fic on tumblr! umm this is barely proofread because i'm sleepy asf so apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes, if i notice any i'll go back and edit them. but yeah, this was all mainly inspired by my own headcanons about rafayel's character and by the in-game dialogue below! please let me know what you think and maybe i'll write more in the future :)

tags: @m00nchildwrites @ghoulishnero <3 !!

heart dividers by @/cafekitsune!

the rain poured down like a waterfall, heavy raindrops hitting against your umbrella as you rushed to your apartment building. it was late at night, with the only thing illuminating the sidewalk at this hour being the flickering street lights and occasional blinding lightning from the storm.

after sprinting your way through the rain, you finally made it safely inside your apartment building. trying to regain your composure you paused for a moment, breath heavy with sheer exhaustion as you closed your dripping umbrella.

you sluggishly began your way to the elevators, wet shoes squeaking along the floors and echoing throughout the quiet lobby. pressing the button to go up, you then stepped back and waited only a few seconds before the elevator doors opened in front of you.

you were thankful that no one else was inside as you pressed your floor number and leaned against the cold wall, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh you didn't even know you had been holding in. you remained still, letting your mind and body rest, even for just a moment, before the ding of the elevator brought you back into your body.

you stand up straight and make your way to your apartment door, fishing your keys out of your purse as you get closer. you turn the key in the knob and open the door, quickly ridding yourself of your shoes and almost throwing the rest of your things to the ground. you'll worry about that later.

but right now, you were so incredibly tired.

every muscle in your body ached after weeks of training and battling wanderers nonstop. your head was pounding, as if there was someone inside your head repeatedly beating against your skull.

work had been pushing you especially hard lately, with a sudden increase in wanderer appearances causing hunters in various departments to be stationed around the city to protect citizens, and hopefully find a lead as to what triggered this influx in the first place. over the past month, you had been stationed in several different places around linkon, ordered to eliminate any potential threats to the area and investigate for any clues on what could be causing this.

and even when you weren't stationed out to be constantly battling wanderers, you were at headquarters sorting through mountains and mountains of paperwork. for hours on end, you would do nothing but read and catch up on previous investigations or potential leads that would explain the uptick in wanderers.

and yet, you nor anyone else in your department had seemed to uncover anything.

and for the past few weeks, the stress, skipping meals, and losing sleep had finally begun to catch up to you. when you would eventually be let off work and allowed to go home, you completely shut down. even your closest friends hadn't heard from you in who knows how long. you were always too fatigued to do anything but sleep the moment you stepped through your front door.

even rafayel suffered as a result.

you'll admit, despite everything, you still tried your damn best to reply to his texts and answer his calls when you could. but the frequency of which you two communicated had still been heavily impacted. sometimes, the best you could manage was only a short reply, if only to let him know that you were still alive and breathing at the very least. you hadn't even had the energy (or the time) to pop by his house for a visit.

realizing how bad things had gotten thanks to this increase of demands from work, how horribly you had been neglecting your physical and mental health, how badly you've been neglecting your friendships and relationship, you decided to finally reach out and request for some desperately needed time off. that's all you needed, was time.

some time to sleep in late and be able to wake up and have a calm, slow morning. some time to take a long, hot, relaxing bath to soak the stress and strain out of your poor muscles. some time to eat a big, filling, home cooked meal, a luxury you hadn't allowed yourself lately and instead opting for the convenience of take out meals or junk food snacks and sweets.

you needed time to go over to rafayel's studio and profusely apologize for how distant you had been.

with your thoughts circling back to rafayel yet again, you thought you should check your phone and see if he had sent you his usual stream of texts messages throughout the day. sprawled out across your bed, you slowly reach into your back pocket for your phone and check your notifications for the first time all day.

among the usual system notifications and messages and calls from friends, there was only one person you cared about and were specifically looking for.

30+ unread texts and 10 missed calls just from rafayel alone. you could swear you felt your heart physically break into a million pieces inside your chest seeing the sweet, playful messages slowly turn despondent and sorrowful as the day went on.

goooood morning cutie ♡ i finished another painting last night, reddie thinks u should totallyyy come over later and check it out :P

i went out to the beach today and collected some seashells to make some new paints. i think the hues will be perfect for an old piece i was working on

the hermit crabs outside have begun asking where u've been lately :/

miss bodyguarddd where are uuu :(

you're being quiet again today ...

cutie??

*missed call*

*missed video call*

you stare at the screen for a while, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as guilt digs its claws into your heart. you feel like a horrible partner, with work straining you mentally and physically, you've barely had the time or energy to even talk to your own boyfriend? of all people?

you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts as your fingers begin tapping the screen. you're not even completely aware of what exactly you're saying, all you know is that you need to make it up to him.

you have to see him.

your body feels heavy like a sack of bricks, its past midnight, and the storm outside is only just starting to let up. but looking back at this past month, you realize how much you've pretty much neglected rafayel. barely replying to his texts, and if you do its something sent in a fatigued, half-functioning state. you haven't had the time to answer his calls, not wanting him to see you so disheveled and almost on the brink of passing out at work. you damn sure haven't been able to visit his studio with how busy work has kept you.

mustering every last bit of strength in your body, you slowly make your way out of bed and into the shower. you need to at least wash off the day's stress from your body before heading over to his house. though it's nothing compared to soaking in a nice bath, the scalding hot water still does wonders for your body and you certainly feel more refreshed than before.

you slip on some comfortable clothes, just some sweatpants and a hoodie, before putting your shoes on and grabbing your purse from where you left it when you first entered. locking the door behind you, you begin your journey to rafayel's home, on a mission.

you check your phone again, every bone in your body hoping rafayel was even still awake and had replied to your text from before. usually he stays up late, either soaking in his bathtub or pulling an all-nighter on a painting project. so it's a little disheartening when you glance at your phone and see no new notifications from him. this doesn't deter you from your newfound mission, but it does plant a seed of worry that buries its roots deep within your chest.

the rain had thankfully seemed to have briefly paused by the time you arrive at your destination. you stand in front of the gate to mo art studio, that seed of worry already branching out and stretching through your entire body like a full grown tree.

still no text or call from rafayel.

you stand still, frozen in place by a heavy veil of doubt and ...

... fear?

will any amount of groveling and apologizing possibly fix what i've done? fix the pain i've caused him?

you notice your breathing start to grow louder and faster and try your best to calm yourself back down.

you were already here now. there's no going back.

you force yourself to push the gate open, stepping on the stone path towards the front door of his home. you stand there for another moment and decide to knock first.

*knock knock knock*

no answer.

*knock knock knock*

still no answer.

*knock knock knock knock knock knock*

silence.

taking a deep breath, you reach inside your purse and pull out the key rafayel had given you long ago when you two had first met. with shaky hands you insert the key, slowly and quietly letting yourself in.

your eyes almost bulge right out of their sockets at the sight of what you had just walked into.

the living room was a complete mess, as if a hurricane had came and swept through the whole place. paint tubes lay scattered around, various colors leaking from them onto the floor in streaks. paint brushes look like they were thrown against the wall, all laid on the floor in a pile under a big splat of paint made on the wall. canvases, some big or small, some blank or with a few strokes of paints struck across them, lay on the ground in several pieces, as if a wanderer had came and ripped them to shreds. the entire place just look completely unkempt and almost abandoned.

the only source of light allowing you to see anything was the glow of the moon shining through the open windows, faint wind blowing the loose sheer curtains inwards.

"rafayel?" you whisper, unsure if he's even awake or here at all.

you walk through the house, trying your best to remain quiet. as you continue on, you notice that it seems like some paint brushes and canvases and even parts of the walls have been burned? you reach your hand out to touch the scorched pieces, bits of ash and soot marking your fingers black.

this means rafayel was definitely here, but just what the hell happened?

you carefully step over and around all the mess, making your way through the home when you hear what you think is someone ... mumbling?

sounds like it's coming from his bedroom.

the door to his bedroom is slightly ajar, and before you make your presence known, you lean in and try to hear what's going on inside.

"she's gone. she's never coming back, and it's all my fault."

you immediately recognize the voice, and it's as if your heart was just ripped out of your chest and ripped to shreds.

"was i too clingy? did she feel suffocated by me? did i take my teasing too far? god, i fucked it up again, i can't lose her ..."

you feel tears start to pool in your eyes again, only this time its impossible to stop them from falling. one after another, the more you hear him spew on about what he must have done to drive you away, the more the tears flow down your cheeks like rivers.

in the midst of your breakdown, before you even realize, you instinctively let out a light sniffle. you were quiet, but the silence of the rest of the house only echoed the small sound even more. you heard what sounded like blankets shift before a small, weak voice spoke out.

"is someone there?" he mutters, his voice slightly shaky as if he had been crying as well.

you close your eyes and inhale, a sorry attempt to pull yourself together, knowing you had been caught. you slowly push the door open with a creak and reveal yourself to see rafayel, buried so deep under the covers that only his peeking head is visible. his hair is completely unkempt, as if he hasn't bothered to maintain it in who knows how long. as you slowly step closer you see his tear stained cheeks, the sight tugging at your heartstrings.

he looks like a shell of the rafayel you've always known. the rafayel you've known always had a mischievous grin on his face, like he had a trick up his sleeve waiting for you. the rafayel you've known always had a certain light, or twinkle in his eyes that brought him to life. the rafayel you've known always carried himself in a somewhat carefree and lackadaisical manner that made him honestly quite the joy to be around.

the rafayel cocooned in bed in front of you has lost that playful grin. his eyes as dark as the deep sea, and his carefree attitude has been replaced by a thick air around him akin to mourning.

you stand there, inches away from the bed, the two of you remaining in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

rafayel locked his eyes on you, a mixture of emotions evident in his eyes that he didn't even bother to try and hide. hurt, pain, disbelief, devotion. you could tell even he didn't know what exactly he was feeling right now. so you decided to take this moment of silence to speak first.

“rafayel i–”

you stopped, but your mouth remained opened, as if you were waiting for the rest of your words to load in your brain. and when they didn't, you could only find yourself beginning to sob yet again. your legs felt too weak to support you anymore, your entire body completely overcome with emotion as you sunk to the floor. you held your head in your hands as you simply let your tears flow like a faucet.

“rafayel i’m so sorry!” you began, shoulders rising and falling as you continued weeping.

“i got completely overwhelmed with work lately and everything has just been so stressful! i barely eat and i barely sleep anymore because work has kept me so busy and i’ve just been so tired every day!” you cry out, spilling your emotions out like a dam burst.

you paused for a quick moment just to catch your breath, the tears still not stopping.

“i’ve been wrapped up with work and haven't been able to be here for you and you have every right to be furious with me but please believe me rafayel, you’ve done nothing and could never do anything to ever make me hate you!”

you’re practically yelling at this point, trying your best to sound as sincere and truthful as possible to get him to believe you. you just can't stand to see him like this, it pains you to see the one person you love the most in this world convinced so deeply that you’ve fallen out of love with him.

when that's the absolute farthest thing from the truth.

you both sit in a tense silence for a few moments, your words repeating over and over again in rafayel’s mind. minutes pass and your sobbing finally seems to be coming to an end as you wipe your eyes with your damp hoodie sleeves.

the sound of your sniffles and choked, shaky breaths are muffled by the sound of blankets shifting around on the bed from above. you look up and watch as rafayel joins you on the floor, sitting only an arm’s length in front of you.

“do you still love me?” he whispers, so softly as if someone else could be listening in on you.

“with all my heart, rafayel.” you respond without a second thought, looking him directly in his eyes.

he takes a moment to gather his thoughts, looking off into the distance of the room as he then continues speaking.

“this past month, you became quiet all of a sudden. i’m not used to it. you stopped replying to my texts, stopped answering my calls. you wouldn't even come over to see me anymore. i thought i had done something wrong, that i must have hurt you. i really thought i had lost you, forever.”

his words grow softer and softer as he continues, almost fading out towards the end. he’s still unable to look you in the eyes as he attempts to put all of his racing thoughts into coherent sentences.

“i’m terrified of you losing you. of being abandoned by you.” he finally makes direct eye contact. “even the thought of it is enough to make me sick. when that terrifying thought seemed like it was becoming my reality, i lost control.”

you remember the current state that his home and studio is in. the paint splattered all across the floors and walls, paintbrushes thrown across the room, scorched pieces of the walls from his fire evol. he really did lose himself, because he thought i had left him for good.

he grows quiet again, fading out the last part of his sentence, but you’re latched onto his every word like a man dying of thirst reaching for water. you hear every word that leaves his mouth, as much as it still pains you to hear. it hurts you to hear just how horrible he’d felt this entire time.

you slowly reach for his hand, giving him time to reject your touch if he wasn't ready.

but he doesn't.

you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and feeling the warmth from his palm envelop yours. he looks at you, the numerous emotions displayed in his eyes slowly melting into one.

love.

“rafayel, you will never lose me. and i promise you that. i’m yours, in this lifetime and the next. forever.”

the two of you remain still, hands intertwined, eyes locked on one another. rafayel is the first to move.

he lets go of your hand, instead moving both of his to cup your face and watches as shock momentarily washes over your face. you swear you see a glimpse of that mischievous grin return to his face before he leans in and locks his lips on yours.

you’re briefly caught off guard, but you quickly come to your senses and return the kiss with everything you have in you. your hands find their way to his hair, gripping it tightly and earning the tiniest of moans from his mouth.

time seems to stop as the two of you bask in each other's embrace. you're the first to pull away, only for the sole reason of needing air to continue the kiss.

as you breathe air back into your lungs, rafayel speaks, voice low and soft.

“tell me you love me.”

a small smile finds its way on your face, happy to do anything he asks for.

“i love you rafayel.” you say, planting a kiss on the mole under his eye.

you can tell that a light blush creeps its way onto his face, even in the dim moonlight that intrudes through his large bedroom windows.

“say it again.” he says, voice still low as a whisper.

“i love you rafayel.” you plant another kiss on the right on his nose, watching his blush intensify even more.

finally, he reconnects his lips with yours yet again, this time pulling you close into his lap, wanting to feel your body close and pressed up against his.

and when he kisses you, he devotes the entire ocean to his beloved.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel #love and deep space rafayel #rafayel x mc #rafayel edit #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x you

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theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter · 7 months ago

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Too sweaty🌡🫂

Ona Batlle x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english nor spanish, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

You refuse to hug your girlfriend after a match because she's too sweaty. With the help of her team, she will do everything and anything to get that hug.

The final whistle blew, the sound of roaring cheers erupted across the stadium as FC Barcelona Femení secured yet another victory. The players on the field embraced, exchanging high-fives and grins as the crowd celebrated their hard-earned win. You stood in the stands, clapping and cheering, Ona had been relentless on the pitch today, showing why she was one of the best defenders in the world.

Ona spotted you almost instantly. Her eyes lit up, and with that characteristic grin of hers, she jogged over, arms wide open for the post-game hug she always demanded. You smiled, knowing exactly what was coming next, but as she got closer, you could see just how sweaty she was. Her hair clung to her forehead, her jersey was soaked through, and her skin glistened with sweat. You loved her to pieces, but there was no denying that Ona in full post-match mode was a sweaty mess.

- ¡Cariño! (Love !)

Ona called out, still grinning as she reached the edge of the stands, arms stretched wide.

- Come here!

You took a step back, hands raised in defence, laughing nervously.

- Ona, you’re—

You gestured up and down at her completely drenched form.

- —you’re a little too sweaty for that.

Ona stopped, her grin turning into a dramatic pout as she dropped her arms.

- ¿En serio? After this great match ? You’re really not going to hug me ? (Oh really?)

You shook your head, laughing.

- I love you, but I draw the line at drenched hugs. You look like you just went swimming in your kit!

Ona groaned, shaking her head in exaggerated frustration, though her eyes were still sparkling with amusement.

- It’s just a little sweat, cariño. You’ve seen me worse. (love)

- Yeah, but I didn’t have to hug you then either.

You shot back, grinning. She rolled her eyes but didn’t let up.

- Fine. No hug for now

You smirked, leaning down a little closer.

- Once you’re clean, you can have all the hugs you want.

Ona stared at you for a moment, pretending to be annoyed, but then she leaned in suddenly and gave you a quick, mischievous kiss on the cheek, pressing her sweat-covered face against yours just enough to make you recoil slightly.

- Ew, Ona!

You exclaimed, wiping at your cheek with an exaggerated grimace, but your laughter betrayed you.

- That’s payback

Ona said with a wink before jogging back to her teammates, leaving you shaking your head and laughing as you watched her retreat.

The players had started celebrating in full force, and you could see Ona being pulled into hugs. Their joy was infectious. You sighed as you watched the love of your life soaking in the victory with her team. It didn’t take long for the other girls to notice the slight pout on your girlfriends face. Alexia, having seen the scene, sidled up to Ona, raising an eyebrow as she nudged her friend.

- Entonces, ¿no te da ningún abrazo tu novia después del partido? (So, no post-game hug from your girlfriend?)

Alexia teased, her voice loud enough for you to hear. Ona groaned, but a smile crept onto her face.

- No, al parecer sudaba demasiado. (Nope. Too sweaty, apparently.)

Alexia grinned, clearly finding it hilarious.

- No puedo culparla, honestamente. (Can’t blame her, honestly)

- Pero no me rendiré. (But I’m not giving up)

Ona said determinedly, casting a glance back at you, where you stood watching them from the sidelines, waving innocently. Alexia raised her eyebrows, a mischievous glint in her eye as she quickly whispered something to the other players. You couldn’t hear what she said, but a few of them turned to look at you with knowing grins.

Before you had a chance to react, the entire team started jogging in your direction, their expressions filled with a playful determination. Your eyes widened, and you instinctively took a step back.

- Oh no, no, no,

You muttered, shaking your head as they closed in. Ona was at the front of the pack, her grin widening as she saw your reaction.

- You shouldn’t have refused the hug, cariño.

She teased, her teammates fanning out behind her like a wall of sweaty determination.

- You’re all sweaty!

You protested, starting to back up further as the group approached.

- This isn’t fair !

Alexia, laughing, called out,

- We just want to help Ona get her hug !

Before you knew it, you were surrounded by the entire Barça squad, and any chance of escape vanished. In a whirlwind of laughter and playful jostling, they scooped you up, passing you straight into Ona’s waiting arms. Ona, grinning victoriously, pulled you into a tight hug, ignoring your protests as she pressed her sweaty body against yours. You squirmed, but it was no use. The team had made sure you weren’t going anywhere.

- Gotcha

Ona whispered, her face close to yours, her eyes full of affection despite the playful scene. You sighed in defeat, trying to suppress your laughter as you rested your head against her shoulder.

- Okay, okay. You win. But you’re still really sweaty.

- I’ll take it

She replied with a laugh, kissing your cheek again. The team cheered and clapped, clearly amused by the whole spectacle. You couldn’t help but laugh too, the warmth of the moment washing over you despite being covered in your girlfriend’s post-game sweat.

As the players finally dispersed and Ona loosened her grip on you, you looked up at her with a smirk.

- Next time, maybe I’ll bring a towel.

Ona grinned, her eyes twinkling.

- Or you could just hug me straight after every game, no matter what.

You pretended to think about it.

- Hmm... no promises.

She laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you walked off together.

- You’ll come around eventually.

And as you walked side by side, with the stadium lights dimming and the echoes of the crowd still ringing in your ears, you knew that sweaty hugs or not, you wouldn’t trade these moments with her for anything in the world.

#fc barcelona #barca x reader #barca femeni #barca femini x reader #fc barca #woso x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader

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saiyanprincessswanie · 7 months ago

Text

Rightfully His…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3028

Summary: You thought your husband was a kindhearted, gentleman who was deeply in love with you. When you catch your husband murdering someone in cold blood you freak out and run away from him. Bucky is in search of you and is determined to find you. Will he kill you or will he claim what is rightfully his?

Warnings: Smut, teasing, rough sex, choking, possessive, mention of killing the reader a few times, pet name (sweetheart), brief violence mentioned & minor character killed.

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

It’s been two and a half weeks since you ran away from him. The life you thought you wanted with Bucky was a huge shame. You thought James “Bucky” Barnes was this kind-hearted businessman who swept you off your feet. He was a gentleman, ambitious, caring, protective, and the love of your life. Whatever you wanted, Bucky made sure you had it. It wasn’t about the money and lifestyle though it was how he treated you. He would worship the ground you walked on if you let him. This man was deeply in love with you and you with him.

Now, it turns out he’s a mobster who kills people for a living. Five years of marriage down the drain because you weren’t supposed to be home yet. You had walked in on Bucky interrogating a man strapped to a chair and begging for his life. That life was cut short in front of you as you let out a scream. Bucky looked up at you with both anger and regret in his eyes. He tried to talk to you but you were scared of him and slept in one of the spare bedrooms. Fearful he might kill you next for what you saw. Not wanting to risk it the next day you left.

You had taken money from your bank account, passport, and clothes and fled your home. Going from bus to bus you traveled as far as you could from him and decided to stay in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Keeping your head down you rented out a motel room. You kept to yourself and hardly ever left the room. This was a temporary plan as you tried to figure out how to leave the country. Anywhere in the world was better than here.

Where would you go? Could you move on from this marriage knowing who your husband was? What if he tried to find you? The stress got to you as you ran to the toilet to throw up your lunch. Flushing the toilet you go to the sink to brush your teeth. Your mouth is now minty fresh as you ponder the one question that keeps haunting you. Would he kill you if he ever found you?

Your hands clenched around the sink as you took in your reflection in the mirror. The bags under your eyes show that you haven’t slept much since heading out on your own. Looking away from the mirror you head into the small room and sit on the bed. Your heart mourns for what could have been between you and Bucky. Now that future is no longer a dream for you.

There was a knock at your door that sent fear down your spine. Could it be him? You shake your head at the thought. There is no way he found you in this little town. Again the knock rang out in your room and you slowly made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole you see a woman holding towels. You open it slowly and are greeted by a friendly voice.

“I have fresh towels for you hun. I know it’s been a few days since you switched them out.” She reached out to give them to you and politely you took them.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you mumbled.

“If you need anything hun you just call down to the front desk and we will get it for you.” The lady turned around and started to push her cart to the next room.

You closed the door and set the towels down on the towel rack in the bathroom. A knock on your door rang out again and you wondered what she wanted now. Huffing you walked to the door and opened it up. There in front of you was your husband, Bucky. He placed a finger to your mouth to shush you. His deep blue eyes stared into your soul as he smiled at you.

“Hello, my beautiful wife. Happy to see me?” He chuckled as you stared at him in shock.

Bucky started to push his way into the room and shut the door. You wanted to scream for help but it died on your tongue. You walked backward until your legs hit the bed and you sat down, tears falling from your eyes. This couldn’t be real. How did he find you?

Bucky took in your features and sighed. He knew you were tired from running for the last two-plus weeks. He could tell you were scared of him and that didn’t help what he was feeling inside. Bucky wanted to yell at you and curse you for leaving him. But he knew you were too frail to take his anger. So he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your hand.

“Do you know why I’m here sweetheart?”

Slowly you nodded your head. “T-To kill me?” The tears continued to fall from your eyes as he just stared at you. There was nowhere to run anymore. This was the end of the line for you.

There was a long silence between you both before he said anything. “As tempting as that is, no, I’m not here to kill you sweetheart. I’m here to take you home with me.”

You looked at him confused by what he said. “But I thought… I mean I saw you kill someone. Don’t mobsters like to tie up loose ends and get rid of witnesses?”

Bucky couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Most of the time, yes. But what you witnessed that’s on me for bringing my work home. Do you know why that man was murdered?”

You shook your head no. Did you even want to know at this point? The less you knew the better it was for you.

Wiping the tears that continued to fall from your eyes, Bucky leaned in to kiss your forehead. “That man wanted to kill you. The thought of you being taken from me forever sent me in a rage. You’re my wife and I love you with every breath I take. I tortured that man until I got him to squeal like the pig he was. His reasoning to kill you was to hurt me and the empire that I’ve built. But I vowed to protect you on our wedding day and it still holds true today. I would rather die than see you hurt on my watch. So please understand why I did it. It was all for you.”

His words started to make you feel sick again. Someone wanted you to die? But who? You were merely a housewife. However, that didn’t seem true anymore. You were the housewife of a mobster who ran an empire in New York. He not only loved you deeply but he also killed for you. Killed in the name of love.

“Bucky, I don’t know what to say. This is all too much for me to take in. So you just regularly kill people who threaten me? Was this the only guy or have there been more?”

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “This wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. It’s the head of a rival mob that wants you dead. That’s why you need to come with me so I can protect you. Can’t you see I need you by my side? I’m asking you to trust me and follow me out of here before someone gets to you.”

“How can I trust you Bucky? You lied about your work all these years and pretended to be someone else. It’s like I don’t even know you. How do I know this isn’t a lie to get me to leave with you so you can kill me?”

Your breaths start to pick up as you start to hyperventilate. You could feel the familiar panic attack start to hit. This was not how you saw this playing out. Bucky helped you with your breathing exercises to slowly calm you down.

Bucky looked at you seriously. “You can trust me 'cause I’m your husband. I only lied about my job but that was to protect you. I see now I should have been honest with you from the beginning. But you do know me, sweetheart. I’m still the same man that you married. Please stop thinking I’m going to kill you. That breaks my heart every time you bring it up.”

Bucky stands up now and helps you to your feet. “We need to leave now, please.” He all but begs you.

Catching your breath you look for your bag on the table and start to gather all the clothes and items you brought with you. Within minutes you are packed and Bucky goes to the front door and opens it. His best friend and right-hand man, Steve, looks back at him.

“The coast is clear, boss. Though I’m getting word someone is on their way here now.”

Bucky looks back at you with his hand outstretched. “Come on, let's go home.”

Hearing what Steve said had you holding Bucky’s hand and walking quickly out of the room. Within seconds you are in a black SUV and being whisked away to the private airport just outside of town. Your hand clenched against his as you reached the airport. There was a private jet waiting on the tarmac as you both walked hand in hand and got on the plane. Within moments the plane was in the sky and you were both heading back to New York.

Exhausted from an emotional standpoint you found yourself in Bucky’s lap on the plane with your head under his chin sleeping peacefully. Steve sat in a seat opposite him and smiled at his friend. “I hope you’re right about this boss.”

When the plane landed Bucky woke you up gently by kissing your temple. Your eyes blinked a few times as you stretched your arms over your head. Bucky grabbed your hand again and you both exited the plane where another SUV was waiting to take you home. Driving back home the SUV pulled up to your house on the outskirts of the city. Exiting the SUV you and Bucky walked up the steps and entered the front door. It was exactly how you left it.

“I’m going to head to the bedroom so I can soak in the tub before bed. Is that alright with you?” You questioned, taking your husband's form in.

“Yes, sweetheart, that’s fine with me. I will be up in a minute or two.”

As you climbed the stairs you headed toward the bedroom and shut the door.

Steve watched you both in silence and didn’t speak until you were out of sight. “Do you think it’s smart bringing her back? She could be a liability. Maybe you should have stuck with your original plan after she left.”

Bucky turned to his friend and backhanded him causing Steve’s face to whip to the side. “The decision has been made and she is home now. I can’t live without her. Maybe if you found love Steven you would understand my decision.”

Heading up the stairs Bucky starts to think things out. Truth is it didn’t take them the full two and a half weeks to find you. As soon as you left New York there was a tail on you. Bucky always made sure someone was watching you at all times. So the first day you stepped into that little town he was notified of your well-being. He gave you two weeks to decide what you wanted to do. Were you going to fly and have him chase you around the globe or were you going to come quietly back home to him? Thankfully, you chose right, and now he has you back in his life again. Plus with you going to learn to trust him again he wouldn’t have to kill you after all. Yes, he contemplated it when you first left but his dark heart was against it from the start. He did love you and couldn’t wait to start a family with you. Now that you know the truth he could make you his Queen.

Walking into the bedroom he closed the door behind him. He could see you in the tub from where he stood and licked his lips. You were always a temptress to him and made him weak in the knees. Bucky was gonna make you his tonight to be sure you were never leaving him again. Slowly he started to undress as he made his way to the bathroom. By the time he stood beside the tub, his cock was rock hard. You stared up at him with doe eyes and exhaled with how big and thick his cock was standing at attention. It was something that still had you aching for him, for that stretch between your legs.

“Sit forward sweetheart so I can sit behind you. I want to help you relax.”

You did as he said and made room for him to sit down. The tub was huge and could sit you both comfortably. Once he got seated he pulled your back to his chest and kissed your shoulder. His hands started to wander your body as you started making soft noises of pleasure. Every gasp and hitched breath made him want to take you more. But for now, he knew you needed this first to relax your mind, body, and spirit. He caressed your breasts and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. You arched against him moaning his name softly as his right hand descended your body and to his favorite spot between your legs. His fingers found your clit and started to rub it in slow circles making you whine cause you needed more pressure there. The more he teased you the more you whined against his shoulder. This is how he liked you, a moaning mess who begged for what she needed.

“Please Bucky, I need you. I have to have you inside me.” Your hips moved to the way he was working you and suddenly he stopped, making you huff in frustration.

“I love it when you beg for me. If I’m going to take you it will be in our bed where I can fuck you like I hate you.” He growled out at you.

Draining the tub both you and Bucky got out and quickly dried off. Heading to the bedroom Bucky grabbed you by the back of the neck and led you to the king-size bed. Reaching the bed he pushed you face down and grabbed your hips. Before you could say anything Bucky had thrusted his long, thick cock into you hard drawing out a pornographic moan from you. His pace was hard as he fucked you deeply. Your hands dig into the sheets as your husband takes you like a useless whore. His fingers dig harder into your hips as he groans above you.

“Take my cock. Every fucking inch of it.” He breathed out over and over.

“Fuck, yes, Bucky. More…” you begged.

Bucky’s left-hand moves to your clit and harshly starts rubbing it. In a matter of seconds, you are moaning his name loud for all to hear. Your walls clenching around him almost taking him over that hurdle but he quickly pulls out and flips you over to your back. He pushes you up the bed a little and re-enters you in one painful thrust. Your legs are around his trim waist while he is battering your pussy using you for his pleasure. His right-hand grabs your neck and starts choking you. Your hands fly up to his hand and try to alleviate the pressure on your neck.

“This pussy is mine. You are mine.” He growls out at you. “If you ever leave me again I swear no one will ever find your body. Do you understand me? Nod your pretty head if you understand.”

You frantically nod your head to the best of your ability. As Bucky pounds into your pussy over and over again. After a few punishing thrusts, Bucky feels your body tense around him as you silently scream your release this time taking Bucky with you. Bucky lets your throat go as he cums with a roar painting your insides with his release.

You gasp for air while Bucky pulls out of you and collapses next to you on his side. The only sound in the room is you both panting in and out. Sex was always like this between you both, rough, hard, and exhilarating. But when he said no one would find your body if you ever left again made you nervous. Was he just saying things in the heat of the moment as usual? It had to have been ‘cause he promised never to hurt you.

Bucky got up to clean himself off first then returned to the bedroom with a washcloth to clean you up. He was humming when you both crawled under the blankets to get ready for bed. You clung to his side as you rested your head on his chest. Bucky just wrapped you up in his arms and held you.

“No one will ever mess with you ever again my love. For if they do they will feel the wrath of me pouring down upon them ten times over. You are my lover, my wife, my everything, and nothing will ever tear us apart again.”

“Yes, Bucky.” A part of you loved knowing he would always protect you. That he had the means to do so. The other part was terrified of what this man could do to not only his enemies but to you. Now you were too scared to leave his side ever again.

You had drifted off to sleep as Bucky started to put a plan in place if you ever left him again. The house did have a nice basement that he could convert into a living area to lock you away from the world. He would never be without you again. I mean you’re rightfully his.

Updated taglist 2024

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minnophee-writes · 8 months ago

Text

His Judgement

A/N: Been in such a Dead by Daylight fixation that I don't think it can be stopped. Pyramid Daddy can smash, I don't care - don't @ me. It was a great crime that BHVR took his ass away from us! Also, I wrote this fic while listening to 'Insanely Illegal Cage Fight' by Dal Av + Jackson Rose. For some reason it gave Pyramid Head vibes. This isn't beta read so any grammar and/or spelling mistakes are my own.

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Pairings: Pyramid Head x Female Reader

Fic Warnings: Character death, blood, violence, betrayal, slight angst, blade / knife, death, dub-con touching, dub-con, smaller female / taller man, size difference, hair-pulling (brief), dark smut, injuries, mating press, long tongue action / tongue fucking (brief) / tongue deepthroating, claiming, breeding, squirting (brief), creampie, (🔞MDNI this fic is for ADULTS! Begone minors🔞)

Summary: When things go from bad to worse during a trial against the Executioner, Reader finds herself standing face-to-face with the large killer himself, ready to accept whatever judgement he deems fit to bestow upon her. However the situation doesn't seem to go as she suspected.

Word Count: 4,311 words

Taglist: @stygianoir

You grabbed onto the hips of Feng and dragged her off the hook, her groans of pain audiable but she tried to quieten them as you herded her behind a large rock to mend her wound. Blood oozed from the gaping hole in her right shoulder but you worked quickly to bandage the injure to slow, and hopefully, stop the blood. Feng nodded to you in thanks before you guided her toward the generator that you were working on before going to her aid.

The realm the entity chose for this trial just so happened to be the Midwich Elementary School, the home of one of the most terrifying killers in the entity's realm. It didn't help that the entity wanted to rub salt in the wound and have the killer actually be the Executioner, he was known to be ruthless during trials, showing no mercy, and defying the entity's rules by outright slaughtering people in these sick, twisted matches. Feng was able to run the large man but he managed to outplay her, ensnaring her within his trail of barbed wire - also known as his 'Trail of Torment'. You had taken shelter in a locker nearby when the Executioner placed her on the hook.

Rushing footsteps startled you and Feng, the sudden appearance of Yun-Jin Lee panting and breathing heavily should have been the first sign to let you know of the oncoming danger yet you and Feng continued working on the generator, now with the help of an anxious Yun-Jin Lee. Everything was quiet for a moment, the only sounds were the generator pistons powering up when you noticed Yun-Jin Lee glancing behind Feng for a few seconds before pushing Feng and running off in the posite direction. You stared after the suspicious woman in confusion and agitation when the sound of Feng's scream caught your attention. The looming figure of the hulking Executioner had pierced his heavy weapon into Feng's torso, the tip of the knife sunk deep in her stomach while her arms scrambled for purchase, rapid gasps left her lips and her eyes were wide in absolute fear.

Time seemed to operate in slow motion, your brain now just processing that Yun-Jin Lee sacraficed Feng to the killer to save herself and fled, leaving you to fend for yourself once he was done punishing Feng. Your heart lurched in sorrow and disappointment, more so disappointed in yourself for not having seen the large killer coming toward them, maybe you could've saved the poor woman - if only Yun-Jin Lee hadn't just selfishly pushed Feng toward her death.

Feng turned her head toward you as her arms weakened in strength, her eyes pleading for something that was not an option, something you couldn't give her. The Executioner yanked his knife from her body before driving it back in, a dark puddle of blood and barbed wires appeared around Feng and devoured her into the ground, taking her and leaving no evidence that she was ever there. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing someone you viewed as a close friend, due to being in many trials together and forming a bond, hurt you deep down and caused tears to slightly blur your vision. The scraping of metal on metal brought you back to the present and you're terrified eyes stared at the large killer a few feet from you, his triangular helmet looking in your direction - his helmet tilting slightly to the side as he seemed to glare you down.

In a sudden rush of adrenaline your body shot into action, you quickly spun around on your heels and sprinted in the last place you saw Yun-Jin Lee and prayed for the best. Your legs carrying you down a flight of stairs and turning down a long corridor, your lungs struggling to intake oxygen and vision slightly unfocusing from how hard you were pushing your body to work in running away from danger. By the time you had reached the end of the corridor you pressed your back against the steel wall and attempted to collect yourself. You didn't hear any heavy footsteps coming after you, and a timid glance down the direction you had just come from proved that the Executioner wasn't pursuing you. You seemed to be in the clear.

A breath of relief escaped your lips before a faint whistle caught your attention, your head turned to the right to see David waving you over into a classroom he was holed up in. You rushed over to him, glad to see a friendly, familiar face, and agreed to help him on his generator. You were tempted to tell David about what Yun-Jin Lee did to Feng, how she willingly sacraficed a teammate - a friend, to the killer and left you for dead just to save her own skin, but you thought against it. Your main concern and goal was to repair the generators so you could get the hell out. The elementary school chilled you to the bone, the disarray of everything in the school and classrooms - they they all left in a rush, almost as if they were quickly evacuated unerved you to no end. So your main motivation on completing your generator tasks were because some of the realms absolutely creeped you out. As the third piston started to pick up speed the woman that had caused you grief appeared in the doorway, making her way arogantly to the other side of the generator, acting as if she hadn't just betrayed a teammate.

An occasional spark would fly as the three of you worked on the gen, the progress slow but surely going, David giving quick glances at the only doorway in and out of the classroom. Your nerves were on alert for any sign of the Executioner, waiting for his sudden arrival and hoping to be able to distract the killer long enough for David to get out of dodge. Any creak or groan from the steel structure had your head turning behind you and toward the door in search for the large man but was greeted with nothing which only calmed your racing heart slightly. Your eyes took note of the vault window on the other side of the classroom which led into the other, a good escape route in case the killer were to appear and block the doorway. David must have seen you looking at it and gave you a subtle nod, acknowledging your find and piecing together two wires which completed the generator, the engine running smoothly now and the three of you made a slow approach to the window vault in the classroom. You were first in the line, then David, leaving Yun-Jin Lee to carry the back but as you neared the vault the loud, piercing sound of metal scraping across metal brought their attention to the classroom doorway.

The bloodied image of the Executioner almost seemed to freeze the trio, his shadow loomed and seemed to swallow the entire room before he then took thundering steps toward you. Yun-Jin Lee rushed passed you and David, shoving the both of you toward the killer while she vaulted the crumbled opening. David lost his footing and was tumbling right into the path of the Executioner when you quickly reacted, grabbing onto David's wide forearm and pulling him back, adrenaline giving you the strength to drag David over to the vault as the killer closed the distance between you.

"Go, David! Run!" You shouted before turning around to face the large man.

His knife was embedded in the ground leaving a trail of torment, cutting off one of the paths to getting out of the classroom. You didn't want to lead the killer in the direction of David so you chose to try and run around the Executioner's left side - the one unaffected by his torment. Just when he was within arms reach you bolted to his left and rushed passed, jumping over a small section of the unforgiving trail and making a mad dash down the hallway, the killer's heavy footsteps storming after you.

He was a man on a mission, only having eyes for you, and you were hoping he would lose track of you soon because your stamina was rapidly draining, but he seemed to always know where you were going. You've run through the bottom floor before attempting to lose chase upstairs, quickly turning corners before dipping into a random classroom and ducked behind an overturned table while you took the time to catch your breath. David slowly exited one of the many lockers that were lined against the wall and rushed over to you, a relieved expression painted on his face.

"Thank God you're okay! You're not hurt, right?" He then looked over your figure for any injuries.

"I'm fine, lets just focus on getting that last gen done." You got up and started to dust yourself off before looking David in the eyes with concern yet certainty after your second run-in with the untrustworthy woman, "Don't trust Yun-Jin Lee... She's the reason Feng is dead..."

"...Shit."

David looked shocked and opened his mouth to say something but the approaching march of the Executioner caused you two to run back over to the lockers and hide next to each other, hoping the beast of a man would just keep walking but those hopes were dashed away when his large figure stepped into the room. His helmet slowly scanned across the room in search for you, his eyeless gaze fell upon the lockers that you and David were hiding in, your breath hitched in anticipation. His steady stride carried him across the spacious room, your muscles growing more tense the closer he got to your lockers, when you noticed a little too late that the Executioner was looking at a different locker - the wrong locker.

The Executioner's thick arm shot out from beside his lent body and grasped the locker door and ripped it off its hinges, David's surprised shout ringing throughout the room as the larger man pulled him out of the locker, and placing him onto his wide shoulder. You bursted out of your locker and clung onto the killer's arm that seemed to put him off balance and dropping David. You grabbed David's hand and began to run away, a very angry killer hot on your heels. One of the hallways had a pallet in the middle that you knew you could use to block the Executioner and gain some distance so you made sure to head toward it, your feet carrying you faster while David kept pace and followed your every move. When the pallet was in sight a few feet away a smile started to grace your face for the first time that trial, but that all came crashing down when you noticed Yun-Jin Lee standing on the other side of the pallet, staring you dead in the face before tossing the pallet down and bolting around the corridor. Your feet stuttered for a split second before you decided that one of you were gonna have to vault the pallet first. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Executioner was a lot closer than you thought and was reeling his arm back to strike at David and your brain went into a panic.

"David, watch out!" You screamed as you pushed him ahead of you, the edge of the knife sliced into the outside of your bicep.

The flaming sting of the injury caused you to let out a squeal as you held onto your arm and made a run for the pallet, David waving encouragingly to you on the other side. Your staggered gait didn't get you far when a strong hand gripped a decent amount of your hair and pulled you back, dragging you into a warm, soild body, ripping another screamed from your lips. You heard David shout your name from where he stood before rushing back over the pallet to get to you.

"No! Let her go!" David readied up to throw a punch but the Executioner just thrust his knife upward.

The blade kissed David's skin, cutting through his button-up and exposed his chest which now displayed a deep, flowing wound from where the blade cut him. David winced and clutched his chest, a groan left his mouth as he looked back toward you. You were terrified, uncertain if anyone was going to survive, and it didn't help that the merciless killer had you in his hold and was readying up to strike David again - this time a killing blow. In a desperate attempt to save at least one of your friends this trial you decided to try begging and bargining. Right as the Executioner drew his arm back to deliever a deadily strike you clung onto the arm holding your body to his and began pleading.

"Wait, no, please!" You cried while squeezing your eyes shut, "I-I'll do anything, please... You can k-kill me right now if you want but spare him!"

You were rambling but you were hoping that the killer would at least pause long enough for David to make an escape. The Executioner slowly glared down at you through his large helmet, his head tilted in feigned thought before suddening swinging his arm overhead and implanted his knife into David's neck, blood spurted out everywhere, and his eyes bulged out while his gasps were wet and thick. Whimpers and whines left you as you watched the light fade from his eyes, his body steadily sinking to the floor before it slumped down and hit the floor with a thud. Before you could process anything you were then thrown against one of the steel walls and lifted a few feet of the ground by your throat, a large hand encased it and made it a struggle for you to take deep breaths. He stared you down while he watched you struggle to get out of his grip, his suffocating presence suddenly making you have flashes of some of the children drawings scattered around the school - some of the drawings depicted said killer in front of her, a name scribbled on top that made sense for a child; Pyramid Head. 'Seemed fitting for him', you thought brieftly.

Pyramid Head jabbed the knife into the floor next to you both before using his other hand to grope your body, using it to spread your leg to insert his hip between them and opening your legs wider. The position caused you to have to wrap your legs around his waist to try and lessen the pressure on your neck but he just placed his hand on your ass and held tight, hitching you up higher and pressed you between the wall and his solid body. A deep rumble spread from within his chest and a slick, slimy appendage timidly appeared from under the pulsing puss under the helmet before it confidently started to lick your face, covering your face in thick saliva. The tip slid across your lips a few times before forcing its way passed them, exploring your mouth and worming itself down your throat.

You let out a squeal in rejection but that didn't seem to do anything to the Executioner as he continued to thrust his tongue down your neck, sliding it back and forth, as if it got pleasure from it. His hips humped into your crotch which shot small waves of pleasure up your spine, strained moans escaped your lips while you tried to find where to place your hand before settling with clutching onto the arm that's holding you by the neck. He let go of your ass to ruck up his filthy apron to expose his pulsing cock, the tip red and leaking with pre-cum. You choked on his tongue in horror, trying to angle your hips away from him but he took that as some sort of invitation to shred your pants from your legs, your underwear disappearing with it while he rubbed his thumb against your folds in an attempt to get you wet and wanting. He retracted his tongue from your throat to then go down to your pussy, smearing his saliva over your vulva and clit, teasing your hole by probing it in exploration before plunging in deep.

You yipped from the wet intrusion of his tongue, you could feel it wriggling around inside - pushing against your spongy walls until it found your g-spot, your body eliciting a full-body spasm. Your mouth opened and closed from the onslaught of pleasure his tongue was giving you once he discovered your hidden spot deep within you, not even your toys could find it half the time and yet this large, brutal killer found it within seconds. It left you stunned more than anything else, your brain going fuzzy and all logical thought disappeared. His thumb pressed into your clit again which made you clench your pussy around his tongue, a moan left your throat at the pleasure flowing through your in waves, your body warming up from the growing arousal.

Your head flopped to the side as you let out a sigh, your eyes fluttered opened and your vision was then filled with David's cold corpse lying on the floor, his glazed eyes staring in your direction and your stomach squeezed - threatening to make you throw up any sustenence inside. You shut your eyes tightly before righting your head straight, a cool chill creeped up your spine at the mental image of your dead friend only a few inches away. Once you opened your eyes again you stared up at the helmet, hoping you were looking where his eyes may roughly be.

"Pyramind Head, please-" You managed to rasp out, "- I-I wanted you to spare him... why?"

Tears fell from your eyes and down your cheeks as you continued to look at him but you got no response, the only response you got was a deep, rumbling growl and his tongue thrusting in and out of you faster, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit rapidly as well. Your breath hitched and a loud, prolonged whine echoed around you both, your walls spasming before hot, white ecstasy burst through you - the tight knot that had quickly formed in your lower stomach suddenly snapped that caused you to drench Pyramid Head's lower sternum and tongue. A foamy, white ring surrounded the base of his appendage and smeared itself across it with each thrust, it drove him feral and the pulse in his cock couldn't be ignored anymore.

Pyramid Head thrusted his cock against your wet cunt, soaking his dick in your juices before attempting to align the tip with your twitching hole and as he steadily pushed in it stretched you in an impossibly delicious way. The moan you let out rang down the corridor but your attention wasn't on how loud you were being, your thoughts were on how big the Executioner was and how he may have ruined any other man for you and he wasn't even halfway in yet. He thrusted in a few more inches before the base of his cock was snug against your pelvis, his hips grinded on your swollen clit, your cunt clung to him from the stimulation. After giving you a brief moment to get adjusted to his cock he began to back his shaft from you before driving it back in with a deep, powerful thrust, punching noises and air from you. Each strong thrust loosened your legs from his waist and he decided to wrap his thick arms under them, he brought them up so that your ankles rested on his shoulders and the angle made it feel as though he was fucking into you deeper than before. Your nails dug into his biceps as he drilled into you, the wet sound of skin slapping skin and your meek moans were the only sounds that could be heard, his tongue hovered over your clit as a large glob of spit splattered onto it - his hips smeared and grinded it into your clit and your toes curled.

A silent scream left your lips as your pussy splashed the Executioner in your juices, your back arched sharply as the walls of your cunt throbbed intensely as it milked his cock. A rumbling groan vibrated inside his chest and his hips stuttered for a few thrusts before burying it deep within you, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix and thick, heavy ropes of cum coated your walls. His cock pulsed with each shot of cum and he gave a few small thrusts to fuck some of it into your cervix, laying claim over you by hoping to breed your fertile womb.

You let out a drawn out whine as you felt his cock slowly withdraw from your abused pussy, your gaping hole twitched as it tried to suck in the cum that slowly dripped out of it. Pyramid Head carefully set you onto the ground as he readjusted his apron, his hand grasped his weapon's handle before yanking his knife out of the floor. You lazily stared at the looming figure accepting your fate, knowing it was only going to last for so long before he killed you in painful ways only he can imagine. Your eyes closed as you waited for the final blow, hoping that he would be nice for once and show mercy with giving you a swift death yet none of that happened. You opened an eye to see what he was up to prior to opening your other eye to glance up at his still form.

A horrified gasp came from your left and you turned your head to see Yun-Jin Lee peeking around the corner, her hands covered her wide mouth and her eyes were almost popping out of her head, a disgusted and petrified looked was etched onto her features. Her eyes bore into your tired figure on the ground, too drained to even properly cover your exposed bottom when, faster than you had ever seen him move, Pyramid Head clutched a fist into the other woman's hair and threw her across the air, her body colided with the hard with a hard smack. Yun-Jin Lee yelped in distress and attempted to crawl away from him but he drove his knife into her calf, the blade sliced and shredded through her muscle and bone, and she let out a piercing scream that had you flinching away.

Yun-Jin Lee stared up at the Executioner with pleading eyes but they wouldn't reach him for he has already decided her fate. Lifting his blade high in the air he brought it down with fierce strength, swinging his weapon multiple times and created many deep, slash wounds - each one becoming more violent than the last. Pyramid Head slammed his blade across the forearm of Yun-Jin Lee, her right arm became detattched and slumped to the floor, while his foot crushed her mid-spine between him and the ground. Yun-Jin Lee was getting desperate and frantically thrashed around hoping to wiggle her way from under the intense judgement of the Executioner yet it was useless, he only put more of his heavy weight onto her spine and a cry of pain was torn from her. With two hands he raised his knife and, with the swiftest movement you've ever seen, he drove the blade into her back - a loud crack pierced through the air and a wet squelching could be heard when the knife sliced through Yun-Jin Lee.

The last of her breath escaped her dry lips before her body fell limp, her still figure stayed face down as Pyramid Head removes his weapon, from the now dead corpse, and turned his helmet toward you once again. A small feeling of dread shot through you for a split second but your brain was still foggy from the rough fucking he had given you just moments ago, and your limbs felt like they were made of lead - anytime you tried to move your arms or legs you were met with no response from your muscles. You watched as the Executioner walked over to your slumped body, examining your for a minute or two before he leant forward and wrapped an arm around you, lifting you from the ground and over his broad shoulder.

Pyramid Head started a steady gait toward one end of the corridor, his destination unknown, yet you weren't afraid of being hooked and being sacrificed to the Entity. He walked passed many hooks on his journey, your mind growing more and more confused while you watched one of the hooks fade around a corner as Pyramid Head continued on, his steps only speeding up once the howling, whimsical noise of the hatch could be heard. Pyramid Head turned quickly into a classroom, the hatch a few feet away from you both when he gently set you on your feet, his hand clutching onto your hips to steading you - and to grope you one last time. You warily glanced between the hatch and the Executioner, as if waiting for him to then crush your hopes of escape by beating you to the hatch and closing it, but he just stood there.

The Executioner subtly nodded over to the hatch, giving you a slight nudge toward it and you timidly made you way over to it. You looked back at Pyramid Head one last time and muttered a hushed thank you before disappearing into the hatch, the opening then slammed close and a black, smokey abyss surrounded the Executioner, teleporting him back into the killers realm. Somewhere in the back of his mind a faint voice promised him that within due time you'd be his, that you would become his pet and that was going to be his reward for being such a loyal being.

~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this fic! Make sure to like and reblog this to let me know that you want more <3 Had heaps of fun writing this and hope to write another banger soon 😎

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heretherebeturtles-comic · 1 month ago

Note

⭐

ALRIGHT! I told myself I would write this as a reward for finishing today's tasks, so lets go!

Here There Be - Director's Commentary :D!!

Starting with Chapter 1 part 1 (pages 1-4)

First of all, everyone say a big thank you to my friend and editor OurLadyOfCoffee for double checking the spelling and grammar for this comic.

Any mistakes in the writing are my own fault for making last minute changes and not showing her before posting. If she had gotten her hands on this page "missing in all the time in this city" would never have happened ( u_u)... I'll go back and fix the page eventually.

Pages 1 & 2 (and 20) did not exist in the original draft of the chapter. I made it to the lineart/inking stage and the page flow was not working. April's narration felt too cramped and boring. I completely redid the whole 4 page section, and the end the final result is so much better!

Page 1 - Panel 1 had two purposes! One, the establishing shot, introducing our setting. Two, to show that NYC is rebuilding after the Krang. Its been a few months and thanks to cartoon logic, they have made significant progress fixing everything.

I love to experiment with colour as a storytelling device. I use red/orange multiple times at specific points throughout the chapter. It simply morning in NYC or is there something dangerous on the horizon... (figuratively)? The good ol' "Red sky at morning, sailors take warning."

Page 1. Panel 2 has a little 1987 April reference with the lady in the jumpsuit on the right. I was really excited to see a few folks point it out, even if it's not quite the iconic yellow jumpsuit. The colour had to be muted or the bold yellow would pull attention away from April (the focus of the panel).

Hello Junior, what do you have there? Something that won't get context for a while? These panels almost didn't make it into the final cut due to page/panel limits. I was very happy that the added pages gave space for it.

Page 2 - someone sent an ask a while back confused about what April was saying, so to explain the text in a more straightforward way: "the mutants that started out as humans have been going missing, but no one knows how long it has been happening or who has taken them. April has figured out that the non-human based mutations disappeared first."

that orange again, this time over the spots where the now missing mutants used to be :)<. I have no idea if this sort of thing is too subtle or not subtle enough, but it makes me go eheehehee and rub my hands together like an evil mastermind.

Page 3 - I debated whether or not to have them move after the movie. How much structural damage did the Krang do on their way through? What are the chances of the lair being discovered because of this? Would the city be too focused on cleanup elsewhere to bother finding it? Do I really want to design a whole new lair when this one is cool and we barely got to see it? In the end I decided that it was more important to have a familiar visual that the readers can instantly identify as the turtle's home. We'll see if there are consequences for remaining in a potentially compromised lair. :)

Despite only showing two rooms in the page, I spent several hours gathering references and building a layout for the entire station lair. I do not control the hyperfocus, it controls me.

Did you know that there are two different designs for this one archway in the main room? I love seeing stuff like this! If an animation studio with multiple background artists can have small inconsequential inconsistencies like this, then it's completely ok if it happens in my own work. It's relieving in a weird way.

PAGE 3 - panel 5 is another way I tried to show that a few months have passed since the movie. They have put some work into unpacking some of those boxes stacked in the back.

Page 4 - Hello Two Phones Jones <3

The Jones Duo! They both have a little outfit change :D! CJ has a rough edged jean vest calling back to the 1990 movie with 03 colours. Casey has a base outfit colour change to match and a cropped hoodie reminiscent of 1987, in pink ofc.

I do not yet have the skills to show the fight that happened in that shipping yard, so I decided that this comic would begin in the tense quiet after it. This also starts us closer to the actual plot instead of dilly dallying. Maybe I'll eventually make a prelude comic to show what all went down.

Aaand that's pretty much it for April's 03 style narrated opening sequence! This is where the intro theme would start playing~

Thank you for the star, I hope this was interesting! I make so many small decisions per page, it's nice to share some of my thoughts. :)

#Here There Be Directors Commentary #htb-tmnt #also i recognize that username! hello hello!

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httpiastri · 1 year ago

Text

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 18 days ago

Text

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - Epilogue

Source for pic

Trouble - Epilogue 🔞

Word Count: 6362

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: And here we are... at the end of another installment of my Meet-Cute series. My gosh, three are done and two to go! I guess I never thought I was going to write all of them and I can't take you guys enough for all the support! But hey, I'll leave that to another post! For now, I hope you enjoy the epilogue of this thrilling story. Let me know all about it, please, I'm dying to know if it was satisfying!

Masterlist

Healing isn’t linear.

You thought you were on the right track after moving in with Zoro. You started taking your meds, shared your feelings with your friends, checked in on Shanks every day. More importantly, you don’t keep anything from Zoro anymore.

And you’ve both been very happy.

Until it all crashes down again, and all the healing you’ve done goes up in smoke, like it meant nothing, and you’re right back where you started: afraid, trapped, small, and vulnerable.

It’s the little things that trigger you. And you find that out the hard way.

-*-

Zoro insists on returning to work, even though his injuries are still healing. He and Mihawk have a terrible argument over the phone until his captain clears him for desk duty with limited hours.

It’s not what Zoro wanted, but he’ll take it. Since he can’t exercise as often or as hard as he would like, he’ll take this distraction. Besides, you’ve been telling him that you still want to help your father around the farm, as much as you feel capable of doing, and he gets bored being alone with nothing to do.

It’s on one of those mornings, when the chores are done, Zoro is at the station, and you and Shanks are sharing a mug of coffee by the porch steps that you take another step forward in your healing process.

“Dad…” You begin with a sigh and Shanks sets down his mug so he can give you his full attention. “I’m sorry.”

He hears the smallness in your voice and cocks his head to the side. “About what?”

“About not feeling at home in your house… I… It’s just…”

Shanks places his arm over your shoulders and pulls you towards him. “You don’t have to explain, Bug. I get it. You don’t even have to apologise for it! All I want is for you to heal and be happy, you know that.”

You do know that. But it still feels like you’re abandoning your father, and it weighs on your chest constantly.

With a trembling inhale, you blink away your unshed tears. “Yes, Dad, I know that. But… this is the house I grew up in, and it hurts that I can’t call it home anymore. You’re here, and I can’t bear to be inside for more than a few minutes. I’m sorry.”

Shanks pulls back so he can look into your eyes. He has a genuine, though sorrowful, look on his face when he utters your name softly. “Home is not a place.” Your eyes widen as he kisses your forehead. “I could be living on a ship, or anywhere across the world, and home wouldn’t be there… you’re my home.”

“Home is not a place…” You repeat, and he nods.

“It’s okay if the house you grew up in doesn’t feel like home anymore, Bug. It truly is.” Shanks sets one hand over your heart, still smiling. “Let your heart find your home.”

This time, you can’t stop the tears from flowing down your face as Shanks wipes them away with his thumb. Then you hug him tightly as your chest feels a little bit lighter. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

You pull back and stare into his eyes. Lately, and as you’ve been feeling brighter and better, there have been fewer shadows in them, like he’s managing to push the guilt away, so you know that as you heal, your father heals with you.

You’re his home.

“Okay, Dad, I’m going upstairs to fill a bag with clothes, just like I promised my therapist. Baby steps.” You can’t deny that you’re nervous about spending time in your room. You’ve been inside a few times, but only for a few minutes and never alone. Your therapist proposed baby steps to help you face the most triggering situations, and you’ve been trying that.

That’s why you’ve been helping Shanks around the farm. You had lunch at the farmhouse too, the other day. Granted, you helped your dad cook and then you both ate the meal outside, but it was still progress.

The walls don’t seem so suffocating, the air is lighter. You can do this.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

You nod and get up, dusting off your behind as you take a deep breath and face the door, trying to push the image of the dead cat pinned to it to the back of your mind.

“I can do this, Dad. Baby steps.” You start walking and then stop, turning around. “Well… maybe you can wait in the living room so I can call you if I need you?” Asking for help is also a baby step, and you take it.

“Sure.” Shanks smiles, collects the mugs of coffee, and heads inside with you. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but you can hear the mugs jingling with the slightest tremor from him. “Oh,” he exclaims suddenly. “Some of your city friends sent you some flowers, I guess the news spread there too, because…” He doesn’t say it, but you make the connection: Ichiji. “I placed them in your room. You know I don’t care much about flowers, and they were for you, so…”

You smile and nod as you start to climb the stairs. “Thank you, Dad!” You haven’t said much to your friends from the city. They’re mostly Ichiji’s friends anyway, but maybe you should text and thank them? Could there be a note on the flowers so you know who sent them?

The thought gets pushed aside as you face your closed door, your heart hammering against your chest as you chew on your lips.

Baby steps.

You got this.

With a heavy inhale, you turn the doorknob and enter.

The room is bright, your father has been opening the windows every day to let in the sun and fresh air. Other than that, it seems untouched. Cold, like it doesn’t belong to you anymore.

But there’s no suffocating oppression, no feeling of entrapment. You got this.

And then your eyes fall on your desk, where the flowers stand, and you freeze. Fresh red roses. A huge bouquet of them.

It’s not King, it’s not him, he’s dead.

Your mind knows this, your brain understands that the bouquet came from your friends. King is dead, it wasn’t him, he wasn’t inside.

He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead!

You can’t breathe. Your chest feels tight, and it hurts as your heart hammers away in an erratic, accelerated rhythm.

It’s not him!

Your body trembles violently, and you slump on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and shutting your eyes.

But you still see them. The red roses.

King.

“D–Da–Dad!” You manage to croak out, turning your head towards the open door so he can hear you. Your pills are downstairs, and just the thought of getting up seems daunting. In a matter of seconds, Shanks is kneeling by your side, whispering your name and asking what’s wrong.

“Bug, hey, hey, it’s alright! I’m here! Come on.” He tries to move you, to lift you, but you push him off, shaking your head frantically. You don’t feel safe, don’t feel like you can move, you’re frozen and shaking. There’s only one person that can help.

“Zo…”

Shanks nods and takes the phone out of his pocket, the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes more prominent again.

Zoro picks up the call immediately. “Zoro, she needs you.”

“On my way.” You hear his clipped answer before he turns off the call. He knew what you were doing today, and even if he didn’t, you don’t think Zoro would ask any questions after the words your father just told him.

You need him. And that’s all he needs to know.

Shanks holds you and tries to soothe you as best as he can, but he doesn’t understand what triggered you. You have been in your room before, even though you weren’t alone, but you managed somewhat.

Now it felt like you were reliving the trauma, your shoulders shaking, knowing that you need to get away from this triggering situation, but not managing to do it with your dad. Shanks is safe, you know that, but Zoro is…

Home.

He must’ve broken all speed limits because he arrives at the farmhouse in record time, calling your name as soon as he enters. Shanks answers him, signaling where you are, and you hear dry thuds as he races up the stairs.

He’s breathless and clutching his side when he arrives upstairs because his wounds still bother him, but his eye falls on you immediately.

You can barely do more than sob and tremble.

Shanks falls back to give Zoro space and starts pacing the room, his fingers running through his hair, and you know he feels as helpless as Zoro felt all those weeks ago. But you can’t seem to focus on anything other than the overwhelming anxiety and the fear that King is somehow still chasing you.

“Hey, Troublemaker. Still making trouble, huh?” Zoro kneels beside you, his voice soft but frayed, as he treads carefully. His fingers brush your hair as he tries to coax you to look at him.

You just hug your legs tighter, trying to disappear.

Then Zoro looks around, and his eye widens as he sees the bouquet. “It’s the flowers, Mr. S. Get rid of them.”

Shanks looks confused for a moment, his gaze alternating between Zoro, the desk, and you. But he snaps out of it and does as Zoro tells him, taking them away from the room, away from your sight. And Zoro tries again.

He calls your name softly, but when that doesn’t work, he sits down and shifts your body so your back is leaning against his chest instead of the wall. Then, he hugs you from behind, his legs around yours as his arms envelop you in a crushing hug. Zoro buries his face in the crook of your neck and tries to slow your breathing by coaxing you to breathe at the same time as him.

After a few minutes, when he senses that you’ve calmed down a little bit, he speaks. “I won’t ever let anything or anyone hurt you again. Hear me?” You nod softly and shrink further into his protective embrace. “Wanna talk about it?”

You inhale a very shaky breath, and Zoro searches his pocket for a few seconds before extending a bottle of pills. “I brought you the emergency pills.” You bite your lower lip, stifling a sob. He remembered your pills. Of course he did.

So you take one because you know you can’t be strong all the time. And then, you turn a little bit in his embrace, just so you can look at him. “The freaking roses…” You say, upset.

“You knew they weren’t from him.” Zoro states, and you nod.

“And it still triggered me.” Zoro nods, his hand finds yours, and he intertwines your fingers. “What if… what if I never stop being afraid, Zo?”

He tightens his hold on you and lowers his head until your foreheads bump. “Then I’ll just keep reminding you that you’re safe. That you’ll never be in danger again. I won’t allow it.”

“That’s not exactly fair to you.” You whisper, and the words still manage to scratch your throat, because how can it be fair for him? Why does he have to be strong for both of you? Why does he have to be the one to ground you and bear all the weight?

Zoro huffs in exasperation. “Tch, like I give a shit about fair, Trouble. You’re stuck with me now, no way out.”

A small chuckle leaves your lips. “Like that’s a bad thing?”

“I hope not.” He smirks smugly and kisses your lips softly. “Still want to grab your stuff, or do we come back another day?”

“I can do it.” You whisper. The roses are gone, you took your medication, and Zoro is here. You can do this. He’s not the only one that needs to be strong. “I want to do it.”

“You got this.”

-*-

Zoro leans against the wooden railing of the stairs, crossing his arms over his chest as his eye never leaves your open door. He’s giving you space to deal with this alone, while still being close enough in case you need him again.

His jaw clenches, and he grits his teeth. Fuck all of this. He can’t stand to see the pain in your eyes, can’t stand the haunted, frightened look on your face everytime something triggers you. If he could kill King again, he would. Over and over and over again.

Motherfucker.

No matter how hard Zoro tries, he can’t shake away the rage gnawing at his insides, reminding him how he should’ve done better. How he should’ve protected you better. He wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough.

“Fuck.” Zoro mutters.

“Fuck’s right.” Shanks murmurs as he approaches and mimics Zoro’s stance, leaning against the railing, eyes bored into your bedroom door. Then he hands Zoro a beer. Zoro hesitates, then takes it with a small thanks.

Both men stand in silence, the words left unsaid linger around them until Shanks sighs after a sip of his beer. “I should’ve been here. I’m her father and I couldn’t even protect her.”

Shanks doesn’t have to say the words for Zoro to recognize guilt in them. The same kind of burden he carries, regret and shame mixed together, sticking on his body like a second skin, like something he can’t wash off.

“Well...” Zoro takes his own sip. “I was here. And it still wasn’t enough.”

Shanks looks at him, maybe he, too, understands that they share the same sentiment. A bitterness over wanting to turn back time, to change something that can’t be changed.

“I would give anything to take this pain away from her.” Shanks mutters with a vulnerability that Zoro never saw in him in all the years since he’s known him.

“Same…” Zoro’s voice sounds raw and vulnerable too and he tightens his grip on the railing, like that can ground him here.

Silence stretches again. All that can be heard is the rustling of clothes as you store them into a bag, sometimes a heavy sigh as you try to ground yourself. But you don’t call for either of them, so they leave you alone with your demons.

“Thank you.” Shanks finally says.

“I…” Zoro clenches his teeth. It feels wrong for your father to be thanking him when you still got hurt. “Yeah.”

“I know you wish you could’ve done more, trust me, kid, I wish for the same every damn day,” Shanks’ hand on Zoro’s shoulder squeezes with understanding. “But you saved her, you bled for her, you were willing to die for her. And that’s all a father can ask. So thank you.”

Zoro nods again, his eye never leaving your door as his throat suddenly feels tighter. Then Shanks chuckles and removes his hand from his shoulder, picking up the beer again and finishing it in one long gulp. “You love her.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. And one that Zoro has no intention to hide from anyone.

“I do.”

“I know. You have since you both were kids. I could see it a mile away, you idiot.”

“Oi!” Zoro grits his teeth again, annoyance taking over the sentiment of mutual understanding pretty quickly.

“I trust you.” Shanks sighs and smiles at Zoro, nodding towards your door before straightening up and inhaling deeply. “I trust you to protect her.”

Zoro barely has time to reply before you stride over to them, a weary smile on your lips and a duffel bag hanging over your shoulder. Zoro nods at Shanks, then removes the bag from your hands, carrying it himself. “Ready to go?”

You smile at him and nod. “All good.”

Shanks sighs once more before hugging you a little longer than necessary, then kissing your head. “Anytime you wanna pop up, door’s open, Bug.”

You kiss his cheek and then pull away. “I’m not moving to another island, Dad. We’re literally ten minutes away.” You both chuckle but Shanks’ smile is bittersweet. And so is yours. You know his words have a much deeper meaning, and you’re so grateful to him.

-*-

Healing isn’t the same for everyone. But Zoro is so strong.

Almost two months have passed since the nightmare ended, and there are more times when you feel good than when you feel bad, it’s true. But Zoro is never shaken.

He’s returned to work full-time, and Nami and Robin got you a part-time job at the firm where they work, just something to fill in the endless void, since idle moments send you spiraling into unwanted thoughts.

He trains. Harder and harder every day, and he’s just unshakable. Your rock.

Your nightmares still come. Not every night, and they’re not always insufferable. There are more times when they merely jolt you from sleep than times when they completely freeze you. And you take that as progress.

What you don’t realise at first is that Zoro only acts strong. Zoro seems healed because he never truly lets you see the depth of his wounds. He’s more broken than you know, much more than he lets on.

And he carries this weight alone.

The only reason you realise this is that one night, when your nightmare forces you to awaken and search for the comfort of your rock, you find his side of the bed empty and cold. Sitting up, you let your eyes adjust to the dim light before spotting him.

Zoro sits at the edge of the bed, hands buried in his hair, and elbows resting on his knees. His body is taut and tense, ready for a fight. He’s visibly shaking, though no sound escapes his lips. You call his name softly, but he doesn’t acknowledge you, so you shuffle to his side, hesitate, then wrap your arms around his torso, resting your cheek lightly against his bare back. He’s freezing.

“Zo…” You call out softly again, tightening your grip, trying to pull him back from whatever hell he’s in.

With a shudder, he inhales deeply, his face still lost in shadows.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You urge, feeling small and vulnerable because this isn’t like Zoro at all.

After a moment of silence, when you think he's not going to share anything, he starts talking. His voice is hoarse, rough and frayed, filled with emotion.

“I see him every night when I fall asleep.”

Your breath catches, and you press closer. “King?”

“Yes.” Zoro nearly growls, his chest rising and falling in painful gasps, his fingers dig deeper into his skull, as if that’s the only way to keep his rage contained. “I relive the moment in my head every night, but… when I fight him, I lose. And then… he doesn’t kill me, I just… have to watch as he hurts you, touches you, and–” He doesn’t need to finish. “You keep calling for me, screaming my name, begging for my help, and I can’t move, I can’t fucking do anything!”

Zoro’s voice breaks as his whole body shudders violently and you hug him tighter, tears streaming down your face.

“I can’t stop him!” His breath falters, and he gasps for air. “I just fucking watch as he takes you over, and over, and over.” Zoro drops his hands from his hair and clenches them into trembling fists. It’s like the words physically hurt him. “Every night I wake up and I’m just so angry! I want to tear the fucking world apart, because I can’t stop him, and he hurts you every fucking time!” Zoro’s shoulders heave with exertion, he’s trying to keep his rage locked tight, to be strong, trying not to break.

“I’m fucking useless. Weak. And I can’t save you.”

Your chest aches, and your eyes burn with more tears. This is your rock, your home, your shelter. And he’s falling apart. All this time, you thought he was fine, that he was handling it. But in reality, he was just faking it. Being strong for both of you when he can’t even keep himself together.

You shift, climbing onto his lap and straddling him. Cupping his cheeks, you gently force him to look at you.

“Zo, look at me.” He does and you see it again, that hollowness in his eye, the shadows darkening it. It haunts you. “You’re not useless. You were never weak. And you did save me.”

He shakes his head, a pained sound escaping his lips. “It wasn’t enough. He still touched you, still saw you, still hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You press your forehead against his, your fingers pressing tight against his cheeks. “It’s not your fault! You saved me, Zoro. You did. Stop blaming yourself for things that were never in your control. I’m here, you’re here.” You pull back slightly, searching his eye. “And now we move on. Or he keeps winning. We need to move on.”

Zoro holds your stare, his jaw clenching. His chest still heaves, like he’s fighting an internal war, wanting to believe your words, but not wanting to let go of his own guilt.

“You saved me. He doesn’t get to have your soul too, Zo. He’s already taken enough.”

Zoro swallows hard, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he briefly closes his eye, letting your words sink in. At least you hope they’re sinking in.

“You don’t have to be strong for both of us, you know? You’re allowed to break and to doubt. You’re not weak because of it.” You peck him softly as he opens his eye. “We get to make each other stronger, okay?”

He nods. Vulnerability still lingering in his eye. Then he hugs you, pulling you closer and tighter against him, to make sure you’re safe, real, and his. You hold him back, your fingers tracing soft patterns through his hair, trying to calm his shaking.

Zoro doesn’t cry, but his body breaks with violent shakes. And you let him, you hold him through it.

After a moment, Zoro’s hands loosen their hold as he takes a deep breath. They slither under the shirt you’re wearing - his shirt - and caress your waist, climbing upwards to your spine.

A shiver courses through you at the feel of his calloused touch. He’s warm now. Zoro’s lips press against the hollow of your throat, his hands lowering to your bare thighs, caressing, taunting, igniting a fire.

A low gasp escapes your lips as Zoro’s tongue teases your collarbone, then trails up your neck. You mewl and clench your legs around his sides, eliciting a soft groan from him.

“Zo…” Another gasp escapes as Zoro’s hands climb again, teasing both nipples at the same time. “You sure?”

It’s still early in the recovery process, and you don’t want to create unwanted frustrations. You’ve tried to be intimate more than once before, but Zoro’s injuries were still too severe, no matter how much desire you felt for each other.

He groans again, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss in which he demands and you willingly give. Then he pulls back long enough to answer you. “Yes, I‘m sure.” Zoro kisses you again, more teeth, more tongue, more groans. “We’ve waited long enough.”

You sure have.

He pinches your nipples again, and you buck your hips against his crotch, feeling how hard he already is.

“Fuck.” Zoro whispers as he pulls the shirt over your head. “Fuck.” He repeats as he takes a good look at you, then his lips latch on to your pert bud, his tongue circling it languorously.

“Don’t act so surprised.” Your giggle turns into a breathy gasp as he sucks, your hand caressing the planes of his muscles. “You’ve seen me naked before.”

“Sure.” He answers in a coarse voice. “It still takes my breath away every time.” And then you’re both shuffling to take off the rest of your clothes. Zoro sits you back onto his lap, his hands gripping the back of your thighs as he claims your lips again.

He pulls you flush, and you feel his girthy cock pressing against your clit. “Fuck.” This time you let out and Zoro chuckles.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he mimics you. “You’ve seen it before.” Zoro grabs his cock and slides the tip against your nether lips, gathering slick and teasing you, making your breath hitch. Smirking, he stares into your eyes. “Guess it still takes your breath away.”

With a huffed laugh, you crash your lips against his again at the same time as he slides his cock inside you. Parting the kiss, you arch into him, your hands griping his shoulders tight as you adjust to the stretch. Zoro’s forehead dips towards your shoulder, and he grunts in pleasure once he’s fully sheathed, sending another shiver coursing through your body.

You tighten your legs around him, hugging him, pressing closer in an intimacy that goes far beyond physical connection. Zoro’s hands press your hips as he guides your movements.

“Oh, Zo… that’s…” Biting your lip, you stifle a loud moan. He’s reaching deep, his cock dragging slowly against your walls and repeatedly hitting you just right.

“Yeah, I know.” He answers back with a rough voice, his fingers digging deeper into your skin. This is different from the first time you had sex with him. This is making love: slow, tender, healing. “I got you.”

He picks up the pace, and you meet his thrusts with your own, unable to hold anything back as pleasure builds up in your core, burning your skin, inflaming your desire. Zoro gropes your flesh, his fingers digging into your plush thighs as he thrusts faster.

You feel pleasure cresting, ready to crash into a wave of rapture, and increase your moans, unable to hold anything back. Zoro’s got you, exactly like he said, so he slides his hand between your bodies, and his thumb finds your swollen nub as he presses and circles it relentlessly.

“Zoro!” You cry out before bliss surges through you, shaking your body as heavy gasps leave your lips.

Zoro rides your orgasm with you, with sloppy, uneven strokes before he, too, comes undone, hugging you against him as his head disappears into the crook of your neck, behind a litany of hushed words and whispers of your name.

You both stay still, chests heaving in the aftermath, slight shocks of pleasure still rippling through your body as Zoro is still buried inside you. You take a deep breath and pull back from his embrace, cupping his cheek so he can look at you again.

“You okay?” He nods softly, and you smile. There are fewer shadows in his eye now, and he knows your question was deeper than the physical exertion he just put himself through.

“We’ll be okay.” He states and kisses you softly. “Together.”

Later that night, you both have dreamless sleep. You know you’ll still face rough nights, sleepless ones, or nights filled with horrible dreams. But as long as you’re together, you can both face it.

Because the nightmare might’ve ended, but you weren’t the only one who survived it.

-*-

The day is bright, warm, and uneventful.

“Watch out!” Usopp cries loudly as Zoro deflects a ball away from your face effortlessly before cursing at your long-nosed friend and Luffy.

So, not quite uneventful, but how could it be when you and your friends are all hanging out at the beach?

“You alright?” Zoro asks, still frowning.

“Didn’t even touch me, Zo.” You giggle as he sits next to you, his feet digging back into the sand as his hand wraps around your thigh and pulls you closer. You have come to terms with the fact that Zoro will be extra protective from now on, and also with the fact that it will always be extremely endearing. “Thank you.”

He leans to kiss you, and you sigh into him. Six months have passed since King. You still carry your meds around as a safeguard, but rare are the days in which you have to take them.

Mihawk closed the investigation on your stalker since they caught the accomplices and King is dead. Sometimes, reporters still lurk about, trying to get that scoop you never gave them, always failing to get past your guard dog - Zoro laughed when you called him that - especially now that the half-year mark has passed.

Nami decked one reporter right on the nose a couple of weeks back because he couldn’t take no for an answer. She made the news instead of you, but she wasn’t the least bit bothered by it. Zoro approved.

While there are still days when you find yourself looking over your shoulder, trembling when you get a sudden text, or double-checking the locks on Zoro’s door before heading to bed, the days that flow freely are the most common.

And your friends make sure you have plenty of those in their company, because their company is never dull, boring, or uneventful. This time, it was Vivi’s idea to spend a day at the beach.

And what a wonderful idea it was.

“This feels nice.” You say, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against Zoro’s shoulder, basking in the sun.

“The beach?” He asks as he looks around at all the chaos: Sanji yelling at Luffy, who’s running away from the grill with a piece of meat between his teeth; Kaya helping Chopper put sunscreen on his back and drawing a smile before rubbing it in; Usopp and Barto having a sandcastle contest, to see whose is the best; Brook teaching Vivi how to play the violin; Nami and Robin trying to enter the water slowly, only to be splashed by Sabo and Franky teasingly. “Or the shenanigans?”

You let out a laugh, drinking in all the interactions, letting them warm your heart. “Well, both, but that was not it…” Turning around, you pass your fingers through his green locks and stare into his eyes. “I missed feeling light.” Zoro hums in understanding. “Unburdened… free.”

“Yeah.” He agrees, foreheads bumping. “We’ve earned it.” You nod as you kiss again, softly this time. He’s right, you’ve both earned this peace.

“Come on in, you two! The water is amazing!” Nami calls from the sea, waving her arms at you and Zoro. Then she squeals in delight when Franky sets her on his shoulders so they can have a battle with Robin and Sabo. “Stop sucking face! You’re disgustingly cute!” She shrieks before turning back to try and topple Robin.

You giggle as Zoro pulls back, calling her a witch and mumbling something about not being cute.

With a mischievous grin, you get up, face the sea, and look over your shoulder. “Race you, Mosshead!” Then you start to run without looking back, because a grunt and a curse let you know Zoro’s already on his feet, ready to pounce. You don’t even make it halfway into the sea when he wraps one arm around your waist and spins you effortlessly. A loud shriek that turns into a heartfelt laugh fills the space between you as Zoro sets you down, grinning.

“Guess you’re going to naughty jail for real this time, Trouble.”

You place the back of your hand on your forehead and arch back dramatically. “Oh, heavens, whatever shall I do now?” He grins and you poke his nose, smirking playfully. “But since I’m here, and you’re my jailor, you’re gonna have to whip out those handcuffs now…”

Zoro clears his throat as his eye widens, but to his credit, he still maintains his composure. “Yeah, I will. If you misbehave.”

You lean in, brushing your chest against his, riling him up on purpose. “Guess you’d have to teach me a lesson then, wouldn’t you… officer?” The way you sultrily lick your lips, teasing him, has his ears turning red in less than a second. “Or should I call you sir?”

Zoro’s brain short-circuits for a second, and now his whole face is red. Then you start to laugh and he shakes his head, a real laugh emerging from his lips - that deep, rumbling sound that shakes his chest and the smile that opens up his whole face. You love his laugh.

“You’re impossible!” He exclaims, and you’re about to retort when he picks you up like a sack of potatoes and enters the sea with unforgiving speed, not even giving you time to adjust to the difference in temperature, taking a deep plunge with you in his arms.

You break the surface with an indignant gasp and try to dunk his head underwater as he laughs at your pathetic efforts. When the laughter dies down, his smile lingers, and he pulls you closer, whispering your name with devotion. “You did it. You made it.”

He’s talking about the healing process, you know that. And he’s right. You’re almost there. And even though some days might set you back, you know that in his company, you can overcome anything.

“No, Zo. We did it.”

-*-

Two weeks. Zoro was gone for two whole weeks.

He had been drafted to another training retreat, no cellphones, no email, just the occasional landline phone call, and it was nowhere near enough. You missed him like crazy. He had considered refusing, claiming that he could not leave you alone. He was sure Mihawk would understand and write up his excuse, if necessary, but you forced him to go.

You knew he needed the training to build his strength back up, and you couldn’t depend on him for all eternity. You knew there would be times when you would have to be alone. So it was a test for both of you.

The nights were the hardest part, but you managed by curling against Zoro’s pillow, which still smelled like him. Shanks and your friends made sure you were alright and not feeling lonely, and even your therapist checked in on you, but you didn’t suffer any crises, you plowed through.

It was a victory.

And now, as you wait in the parking lot of the police station, absently chewing on your lower lip and barely containing your excitement by bouncing on the balls of your feet, you can’t stifle the giggle that escapes your lips as you see the bus approach. Raising your handmade sign that reads: ‘Welcome home, Officer Mosshead’, in bright neon green lettering, you grin. You already know he’s going to hate it.

Which is exactly why you crafted it.

The bus slows down as it enters the parking lot, and the loud psshh it releases as it parks is a prelude to the wild thrumming of your heart. The families gathered around, waiting for Zoro’s colleagues share the same anxiety as you, as wives, husbands, and children wait for their loved ones.

When the doors open, you raise your sign high with a sheepish grin. There’s already laughter bubbling up from the officers that exit the bus, some of them shout behind in warning to others, so, when your green-haired boyfriend finally emerges, duffle bag swung over his shoulder, he’s already wearing a scowl from all the teasing.

You squeak as his eyes land on you, and though you’re far away, you can practically hear him grumbling curses.

You’ve missed him. Damn it, you’ve missed him so much.

Unceremoniously dropping the sign on the floor, you start to sprint towards the bus, swiftly evading people as you see the wild green of Zoro’s hair coming closer and closer.

And then you trip over your own feet, stumble forward, arms spread wide as you brace for impact, but you manage to regain your balance and resume your sprint. When you look at Zoro, he’s sighing in relief, arms stretched as if he wanted to catch you, even though you’re still far. You laugh, and he shakes his head, a grin curving his lips as you take the final steps towards him.

You leap into his arms without thought or consideration, and he catches you effortlessly, groping the back of your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, burying your head against the crook of his neck and squeezing him against you.

“Zoro!” You exclaim, breathless as he stumbles back from the force of the impact and hits the side of the bus.

“Hey, Troublemaker!” He grins at you as you pull back to look him fully in the eye. “Making trouble?”

The laugh that parts your lips is freeing, familiar, wanted. “Yes! So much trouble, you have no idea!”

He laughs too, a laugh that now comes easier to him, at least when he’s with you. “Tch… paperwork on my desk by Monday, right?”

You begin to laugh again, but Zoro takes your lips in his in a breathtaking kiss. The noise he makes when you slip your tongue out to seek his sounds like longing and desperation mixing together, and you grip him tighter and harder, enough to ground you. Your fingers thread through his hair and grip as you both deepen the kiss.

It’s only when Zoro’s coworkers start to make whooping sounds and tell you both to get a room that you two part, but not before Zoro flips them off with a grunt. Your foreheads bump together, and you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.

“I love you, Mosshead.”

“Oi!” You giggle because he gets annoyed so easily, but his smirk tells you he’s just putting on an act. “I love you too, Trouble.” Warmth spreads in your chest as you get lost in Zoro’s eye. “Let’s go home,” he says.

You nod, feeling light and free. Because, like Shanks said, home is not a place. Home is not the farmhouse, even though now it starts to feel less scary, less tainted, less haunted; home is not Zoro’s quiet apartment, filled with domesticity and happiness; Home is not a place. It's him.

Zoro is your home.

THE END

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newmoonlover009 · 2 months ago

Text

Distracted - Charlie Swan

“Just kiss me.”

Charlie Swan x Fem!Reader

Summary - Bella tasks you to keep Charlie distracted as she battles her new "sickness." You do as she says. In more ways than one.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, age gap (reader is 23), lying, subtle angst, quickie, fast-paced, kissing, slight grinding/dry humping, neck kissing, unprotected piv sex, a bit of cock warming, cream pie, the use of the words "cunt" and "cock," and the pet name "baby."

(Let me know if I missed any.)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes. Twilight au—details won’t be accurate to the films or books—they are rewritten to fit the story.

a/n - yippee, my first post on my multi-fandom account. In all honesty, I did not proofread this one shot as thoroughly as I usually do. So, apologies in advance if it seems rushed. Enjoy <3

Truth be told, you know of Bella’s… “condition.”

Why she entrusts you with her secret—you don’t know. You’ve only known Bella briefly, having moved to Forks just a year before her return. When word spread that she’d be coming home, Charlie asked you personally to become her friend—a mentor of sorts, even. With long hours at the station, Charlie didn’t have the time to hover, even when he really wanted to.

Bella liked to think Charlie didn’t hover, but he did. Even now.

“Good morning, Chief Swan!” You yelled from your porch, greeting the Chief like you did every chance you got. The two of you had been neighbors for quite some time now since you moved in right across the street into the smallest house in the neighborhood with your mom.

“Mornin’.” Charlie’s gruff voice carried across the street. Usually, he’d disappear into his lonesome house, and only leave when he was called to the station. This time, however, he paused at his door in thought. You watched curiously as he turned around, immediately locking eyes with you, and cautiously approaching your quaint porch.

“I hear your daughter is coming to town, Chief. That’s big news.” You offered conversation, still curious as to why he was purposely approaching you. Charlie was a kind man, and sometimes even friendly to outsiders, but he was still closed off. Perhaps it was your age that prompted him to maintain his distance—two decades is a large difference. Younger people probably freaked him out, you figured.

“Yeah, I’m real excited.” Though, his unenthusiastic tone said otherwise. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, okay.” You remained an open mind, waiting for an elaboration of sorts. “What about?”

“In all honesty, I need you to do me a favor.” His tone was serious, not asking, but rather telling. You would’ve agreed either way.

“Of course, what’s up?” It seemed as though he struggled to find the words to ask, his brows furrowed as he thought intently.

“Bella hasn’t lived here since, well, a long time. She visits, sure, but other than that, she doesn’t know anyone here.” That didn’t surprise you, especially since you hadn’t seen her once since living there. What he said next, however, did surprise you. “I need you to keep an eye on her for me. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re close in age, right? Maybe you can provide some… input in her life that I can’t.” Well, not quite close in age. She was 17. You were 21.

“Oh, Chief Swan, I—”

“Charlie.” He corrected you.

“Charlie.” You repeated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Bella doesn’t know me, and quite frankly, I don’t know her. You do, though.”

“Please?” He looked defeated—embarrassed that he had to enlist the help of his neighbor to welcome his teenage daughter. After seeing the silently begging look on his face, you couldn’t say no.

So, when she called you once the plane landed, returning from her short-lived honeymoon with Edward, your vision blurred and hearing rang as she whimpered the words “vampire” and “pregnant.” She informed you that tensions were high between the Cullens; debating whether she should keep it or… “get rid of it.” Alice, Edward, and Jacob strongly advocated for the latter. You, however, only knew that Bella needed a friend.

It kills you to keep a secret of this magnitude from Charlie—who’s been pacing back and forth since you arrived. Bella asked you to keep an eye on him—a trend in the Swan family, it seems—and to keep him distracted so he wouldn’t drive to the Cullen house himself and demand answers.

“Charlie, please—”

“What do you mean I can’t see her? Is she okay?” His tone is frantic; worried.

“She’s fine. She just contracted a virus and didn’t want to worry you. Clearly, it’s not working.”

“So why can’t she call me? Why are you the one telling me?” Because he’ll know something is wrong by the sound of her voice.

“Because she wanted the information given in person. She thought you deserved more than a phone call.” You deserve the truth, you think to yourself, but you’ve made a promise to Bella.

“Where’s this medical facility? I’ll go there myself–” There is no medical facility. She’s shacked up at the Cullen house just miles away.

“No, Charlie, you can’t. She didn’t even tell me, so there’s no way of you knowing.” You hate how the lies roll off your tongue with ease. He huffs in frustration at your answer, finally taking a seat on the couch while you stand just feet away in front of the television. Sorrow settles like a brick in your gut, so you sit in the empty spot just beside him, your hand landing on his shoulder to offer support. “I’m really sorry, Charlie, but you know she’s in the best hands. Edward–or Carlisle–won’t let anything bad happen to her.”

“I know…” His voice trails off, uncertainty clear in his tone. He knows you’re right, but you also know that the protective dad in him can’t sit idly by. Your heart aches to see the way his eyes glaze over, his brows in a perpetual frown since Bella left for her honeymoon. The poor man hasn’t been the same since the wedding.

His house is empty again and his routine has fallen back into what it was before she came home; working every chance he gets and ordering takeout every night. His incessant sullen gaze has returned; his eyes are no longer softer like they were when Bella was here. You feel her absence as well. The house is eerily quiet–colder than usual–and the smaller things that accumulated in their shared spaces have been packed away and moved. Alice took the liberty of packing Bella’s things.

Your relationship–or rather acquaintance–with Charlie has nearly withered since her departure. There’s no need to speak to him unless it’s to relay a message, like the unfortunate one you’re delivering now. Still, you greet him with a good morning, afternoon, and evening when you see him; which is rare. You quite enjoyed being a part of Charlie’s life, even if it was through Bella, and you felt as though you had finally cracked the man who would hardly speak to you since you moved in.

“She’ll be okay. I promise.” It’s a stupid promise to make when you’re unsure of the outcome yourself.

“I guess you’re right.” He lets out a heavy sigh, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his face falling into his hands.

You gently nod to yourself, taking that as your sign to leave. You’ve done all that you can at the moment; told him of Bella’s “sickness,” given him peace of mind, and ensured that he wouldn’t attempt to see her in person. All things Bella instructed you to do. You feel terrible knowing Charlie’s original plan was for you to watch over Bella, and now it’s been completely flipped in the opposite direction.

“I should get going.” You announce, patting his shoulder and grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything else from her.”

Charlie nods, his warm eyes finding yours. He lifts himself from the couch with a gentle huff and stands to walk you to the door, as he always does. As you mirror his movements, the two of you face each other, subtle awkwardness creeping into the space between you. He’s decently taller than you, forcing your head to tilt back as you match his gaze. His eyes are masking a million different emotions, just screaming to be let out, so you provide the only form of comfort you can think of. Lifting your arms from your sides to reach toward him, his watchful eyes observe your actions as you lazily wrap them around his waist.

His body freezes, stunned by your affection, as you rest your head against his broad chest. Your cheek lays against his cotton T-shirt, saturated in his warm scent—woodsy, cinnamon, and smoky–as if he had just built a fire to combat the slowly approaching frost. A beat passes before you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, his head craning down to rest his scruffed cheek on the top of your head. His heart is pounding in his chest, the muffled sound knocking against your ear. As if to absorb his hurt, you hug him more firmly, your hands interlocking behind him as you adjust your grip.

“Thank you for coming over.” His defeated voice finally speaks above you, and a hand soothingly rubs your shoulder. “It was nice seeing you again.”

The feeling's mutual. The last real conversation you had with him was the wedding night. It hurt your feelings a bit; further confirming that Charlie was only interested in talking to you about Bella, nothing more. Sure, that was the deal, but you had hoped for more. Whatever “more” was, you still aren’t sure.

“Of course.” You breathe out, leaning back to look up at him, your arms still wrapped around him. “I hope to see you again soon. Under better circumstances.”

“Me too.” He lets out a defeated chuckle, the humor absent. “Let me walk you out.”

Although, neither of you moves. His hands stay spread on the expanse of your back as his conflicted gaze bores into yours. An unspoken magnetic pull lures you to him, his eyes locking yours in a curious trance. Your stomach flips when he swiftly leans in, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss. Mere milliseconds pass before his lips are ripped away; just as quickly as they had come.

Your eyes widen and the grip you have on him releases as you take a precautionary step back. Jaw falling slack, your lips part in utter shock, and your eyes blink rapidly as if you’re in a haze. Your face has surely turned crimson, the heat creeping up your neck and settling in the peaks of your cheeks. The look on his face, however, is just as shocked as you are–like he couldn’t believe he did that. He looks… ashamed. It’s almost visible on his face–the way his thoughts race–his voice catching in his throat as if to offer an explanation.

“Charlie…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“Kiss me again.” You rush out, “Please.”

“Are you sure–”

“Just kiss me.” You nearly groan. Unable to wait a moment longer, you step forward to close the short distance between you two, your arms finding their way around his neck and feet standing on their tippy-toes. Your lips crash onto his, your eyes fluttering close as his hands snake around your waist, desperately gripping at your clothed skin. A low hum purrs from his throat while he deepens the kiss, dipping his head lower to accommodate you and satisfy his fast-growing hunger. His mustache and the stubble on his chin rub against you, adding to the pleasurable sensation pooling in your gut.

This was not what you intended when you were tasked with keeping him distracted, but you can’t find a part of you willing to stop. Not when he pulls you in closer by the waist, his fingers digging deeper into your heated flesh, grasping at you so you can’t pull away–like you ever would.

Taking the initiative, your tongue darts from your parted lips, swiping along his bottom lip and eliciting a groan from Charlie. The sound is like music to your ears, only fueling you further when your hands find his loose waves, gripping gently and tugging at the roots. Following your lead, his tongue combats yours, invading your senses with his taste, his smell, him.

Without breaking the persisting kiss, Charlie moves you both and pulls you with him as he lands on the couch in a seated position. Instinctually, your legs straddle him–your skirt lifting and bunching at your hips–and you finally lean away from him to catch your breath, your chest heaving in response. Through parted lips, Charlie lets out quick huffs, his back slowly leaning against the couch to allow his eyes to rake over your appearance; flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and hooded eyes that silently beg for more.

The sight of him is ungodly; sitting man-spread, hands now lazily resting against your hips, and eyes that flood with lust–the chocolatey irises being swallowed by dilated pupils. You need more of him.

Slouching slightly, you lean into him as your lips connect with his neck, leaving sloppy open-mouth kisses along the sensitive skin. His head tilts to the side to grant better access as a strained noise collects on the tip of his tongue. Your hips absently move against him and a surprised sound comes from you when the bulge of his jeans lines up with your aching core. The dull sensation urges you to seek more friction, making Charlie’s hands grip your hips to assist in your efforts.

Soft, satisfied sighs brush past your lips as you continue your work on his exposed neck, pulling small grunts from him and subtle jerks of his hips.

“Are you sure you want this?” His drawn voice calls to you, letting you know you can stop while you’re ahead. The thing is, you don’t want to.

“So sure.” You mumble against his skin. “Are you?” Asking sincerely, you stop what you’re doing to catch his gaze.

He only nods, his eyes darting to your lips and hands absently squeezing, encouraging you to continue. Slowly, you roll your hips against him, building the previous friction back up. The feeling is deliciously teasing, only reaching a certain level of fulfillment before it becomes unbearable. You hold his line of sight, watching as his face gently contorts into a frustrated frown, needing more as much as you do. His brows furrow, creasing the skin between them, and a low grumble gathers in his chest as his legs shift restlessly beneath you.

Releasing your grip from his hair, your hands lay flat as they palm at his shoulders, spread across his chest, and travel down his abdomen, pausing just above the waistband of his jeans. You halt your hip movements, letting your fingers tease at the zipper before asking, “Can I?”

“Please.”

It’s the only word he can muster before you undo the zipper at a tantalizing pace, the soft noise only adding to the fluttering feeling gathering in your lower belly. You quickly unfasten the jeans button, folding the rough denim fabric over to expose his boxers beneath. His jaw clenches when you tug the waistband of his jeans down just enough to reach into the stretchy material and firmly grip him. His stomach visibly tightens through his shirt, a low grunt exiting with a shaky breath as you free his hardened cock. Impressive.

Your closed fist works up and down his length a few times, admiring the way precum leaks from the reddened tip, pouring over onto your hand. Charlie struggles to show restraint as his hips shift upward to match your rhythm. You’re eager as well, feeling wetness gather and soak into the cotton fabric of your underwear.

Impatience gets the better of you when you release him, smirking at the sound of protest from him as your hands find the bottom hem of your skirt and tug the clothing item upward to gather around your waist. His mouth clamps shut when your soaked underwear comes into view, exposing the absolute arousal he elicits from you. Usually, you’d opt for more foreplay, but you need him–you need him now.

Unwilling to waste time, you pull your underwear to the side, using your other hand to grasp Charlie once more. With a little maneuvering, you scoot closer to him, lifting yourself slightly to align him with your cunt. He sucks in a sharp breath when you run the tip through your velvety folds, gathering every ounce of arousal before stopping at your dripping entrance.

Slowly, you lower yourself, allowing your hips to sink onto him and inch his way into you. Neither of you dares to breathe as your walls stretch around him, welcoming him and swallowing every inch until you’ve sunken completely. Both of you gasp–for air, and because of the way his cock twitches and your walls squeeze around him. He’s filled you entirely and you bite back the moan that begs to release. Without even moving, the feeling itself is euphoric.

“I need a minute.” He admits, his voice gravelly and forcing self-control.

“Me too.” You breathe out, your hands resting against his waist for support.

Staying put, you lean forward, capturing his lips in a leisurely kiss. The moments leading up to this one have gone by in a blur, having happened so fast. You savor him, enjoying the way he can’t control the soft groans you swallow as your lips work against his, your walls pulsing in response.

Your hands travel from below you, your fingertips ghosting over his lower stomach, his ribs, and his chest before settling on the sides of his face. His stubble scratches the surface of your palms as you deepen the kiss, humming in satisfaction when he invades your mouth with his tongue. Growing impatient, you feel Charlie’s hands grip tighter, urging you to lift your hips.

The kiss is unbreaking as you follow his lead, letting him raise your hips and pull you back down onto his length. You moan into his mouth as he repeats this action a few more times before you decide to take over. Heavy breaths blow through his nose as you speed up, creating a steady rhythm that satisfies the both of you. You’re unsure how long you’ll last given the coil that’s been wound up tight since grinding against him fully clothed, which technically, you still are.

With your breath picking up, you break the kiss to focus solely on lifting and lowering your hips. The pace is growing quicker, and you notice Charlie’s hips moving to match your efforts. Resting your forehead against his, you lock eyes as you allow an uncontrollable string of moans to push past your plump lips, your eyebrows scrunching in pure pleasure.

“I’m so close.” You confess, feeling your walls flutter around him in that familiar rhythmic pattern.

“Keep going, baby.” His encouragement and use of the pet name through clenched teeth signals that his climax is nearing as well.

Preserving energy and seeking release, you grind your hips instead, and you nearly cry out when your swollen clit rubs against him. It’s enough to bring you to the edge, your climax teetering and waiting to be pushed over. With a few more passes of your grinding hips, it doesn’t take long, and your head flies back to let out a drawn-out moan.

“Oh god, Charlie.” Your voice points to the ceiling as your eyes squeeze shut, your hips sputtering against him. Your cunt pulses frantically around him as you continue your movements, riding out your crashing orgasm and urging Charlie to do the same.

From the force of your climax, Charlie isn’t far behind. His name leaves your lips in an exasperated whimper, being repeated like a mantra. When your head falls forward, and your spent stare captures his, it’s enough to send him over the edge. With a choked groan, you feel his cock twitch inside you, coating your walls with hot cum as he stares deeply into you. Determined to wring out his orgasm, your hips move languidly despite the overwhelming sensation it creates for you, watching as his stomach flexes sporadically.

He lets out a choked noise when he’s finished, the grip on your hips loosening and prompting you to slow to a stop. The mixture of your releases drips out of you, pooling at the base of his cock. Both of you breathe heavily, your chests heaving in harmony as your eyes bore into each other.

You expect a feeling of regret to wash over you, but it never comes.

Instead, Charlie’s hands slide to your waist and pull you closer, his lips peppering gentle kisses along your jaw, hairline, and lips. He reaches over beside him, grabbing a flannel he left draped over the back of the couch. Carefully, he drapes the patterned material over your shoulders, and your hands drop from his face, letting you lean forward and rest your head against his chest. You aren’t necessarily cold, but having shared an intimate moment with him, Charlie feels the need to cover you–to make you feel less exposed and to provide care.

“We should get cleaned up.” You mumble against him, feeling him soften inside of you.

“Okay…” His voice trails off, as if deep in thought. A beat passes before he speaks again, his gruff voice rumbling against your cheek from deep within his chest. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

You smile, genuinely in what feels like forever, “I’d love to.”

Tags:

#charlie swan x reader #charlie swan smut #charlie swan #twilight saga #twilight #the twilight saga #charlie swan fanfiction #charlie swan fic #charlie swan fanfic

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currently-reading-a-book · 1 year ago

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Faux Love, Real Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer must pose as a couple for a mission. However, one question remains: why does he keep calling you 'love'?

Genre: smut

Warning: talking about a criminal case, making out, fake dating (let me know if I forgot something)

Word Count: 882 words

A/N: As always, any criticism is very welcome. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

Anyway, enjoy :)

✧ 🎀 -------------------------------------------------------------- 🎀 ✧

You blushed yesterday, you blushed today and you most definitely will blush tomorrow. You simply will never get used to his soft voice whispering: “Sorry, love.”

As he calmly brushes past you. You will never get used to his rough hands brushing against your skin from time to time. You will never get used to his soft backrubs or his light kisses against your forehead. Perhaps it’s better this way. If you’re used to his permanent presence your heart would break into two when this mission ends. When all of this ends. Every day you’re hoping that the mission is continued another day, just to be with him. And for a certain time, it did work; until it didn’t anymore.

For more than a year, you have been working in the Behavioral Unit (BAU) department of the FBI. As an aspiring Agent, you are willing to do anything to save people. The team welcomed you warmly, always helping you where they could since you were the youngest member. You feel safe because you know they will always have your back. Yet nothing could have prepared you for your latest mission. The mission where you and Spencer had to fake a romantic relationship. Spencer was a good boyfriend; a fake one sadly.

This unsub is targeting young couples, so the team decided you and Spencer would be the best ones to fit his victimology. Quickly you move into a fake house that isn’t yours; drive a fake car and act like a fake couple deeply in love with each other.

“Are you ready to go to bed, darling?”, shouted Spencer down from your shared bedroom.

It was a comfortable room with a carpeted floor and a large king-size bed. Oh, how you loved this bed; nevertheless, nothing compares to sleeping beside Spencer. Your sleep quality improving enormously. Maybe Spencer has to do with it...

Without answering you went up, already in your pyjamas ready to get a good night’s sleep in. Today you search through lots of recordings in hopes of finding a lead in the case; Spencer of course helping you, but how could anybody read faster than Reid himself? You collapse onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted. The slender nerdy boy, with his thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, is deeply engrossed in his book. Every now and then, he looks up from his reading, his bright eyes shining with a gentle smile that warms your heart.

“You must be absolutely tired, love.”

“God, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly. A strange silence surrounded them.

“Come here,” he opened his arms gesturing her to come closer.

She found herself in a state of confusion, uncertain of what to do next. As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards Reid's comforting presence. She knew that cuddling with him would be unprofessional, but his warm embrace felt like a safe haven that she longed to be in. The conflicting thoughts in her mind left her feeling torn and indecisive, so she stayed where she was.

Since she didn’t come closer, he decided to drew closer to her. His hot breath tickled her neck as he whispered against her ears sending shivers down her spine: "You know we have to act like a real couple, you want to catch this unsub, don’t you?”

She gulped silently. Of course, she wanted to catch this motherfucker who’s been killing around D.C., however, all she could think right now was how close Spencer was and how his hot breath felt amazing against her neck.

“Spencer…,” was the only thing she could whisper back.

His hands grip her waist lovingly, bringing her closer to him.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he murmured against her hair, kissing the top of her head softly.

Another gulp. Feeling hot all over her body, you tried to think a straight thought, but how can you think rationally when a hot FBI agent's body is nearly pressed against yours? Particularly Spencers hot body.

“Kiss me, Spencer.”

Without a second of hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. Like a starved man, his kiss was impatient and rough, in contrast to the delicate touch of his hands all over your body. You could feel his warm big hands exploring every inch of your body. Oh, how good it felt.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this since day one,” he cursed against your lips before softly biting them. His tongue teased your lips, wanting to enter your mouth. Gently you open your lips and your and his tongue dance together. His soft lips moved their way down to your jaw, then your neck where they stayed for a bit, nibbling at your flesh. You reached for his curls, gripping them which he responded with a moan.

“If I had to act like this stupid fake couple thing again I would absolutely, do it, just to taste your sweet lips, love.” He smiled against your neck.

“Wait,” you pushed him a bit away from you, “you don’t enjoy this fake dating?”

He took a deep breath. Panic started washing over you. Of course, he wouldn't like your back, what do you think?

"No". His angelic voice brought you back from your negative thoughts: “I would like more if we were dating real.”

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justanothermemestrider · 3 months ago

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"That's My Girl" - Jago Sevetarion x F! Reader

Ask thee and ye shall receive. Here's a fic based on the sparring headcanon from my Sevetar Assorted Headcanons. The sypnosis: Sev takes you down to the training mat to help you train some sword craft, and things get... spicy

Hope yall ready for some heresy.

CW: NSFW, MDNI

Apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. Please enjoy!

"I really don't see why this is necessary."

"Really?" Jago asks. "Sweetheart, have you seen what the people on this ship are like?"

"Well yeah, sure," you say. "But I've got you. And if you're not around, Talos and Cyrion always look out for me."

Jago clicks his tongue, twirling the wooden swords he's currently holding in both hands as he considers your words. "That is true," he admits. "But even then, there is always the chance- no matter how small- that you may be caught out alone on this ship." He offers you one of the swords with a smile. "As such, you need to prepared."

You give him a long, unamused look, eyes shifting between his proferred wooden sword and wry, lopsided smile. The skin of his face is a mess of scars and callouses, but underneath all of that is a strong, almost handsome visage with broad cheek bones and a square jaw. His hair is slicked back save for a handful of thin bangs that tumble over his forehead to frame his eyes and nose. Jago's smile broadens into a grin. "Come on, little bird," he says. "If not for you, then for me?"

You let out a sigh. Without a word, you take the sword from his hand.

"Atta girl," Jago chuckles. He steps away from you, then surprises you by sheathing his sword. His grin suddenly turns feral. Before you can ask, he unclasps the front of his tunic and lets it drop to the floor. His torso, like his face, is ravished by scars, though these are far larger and more vicious looking. Bolter holes, chain blade slashes, stab wounds and burn marks; Jago wears the marks of all of these and even more. Black neural ports run down his shoulders and chest, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. But, just like his face, his scars and cybernetics do little to detract from the beauty of the body beneath them. You can't help but take a moment to drink in the sight of him; the twistedly gorgeous demi-god you call lover and protector. At your staring, Jago chuckles. "You may remain robed if you wish," he says. "But among Astartes, it is tradition to spar as... unencumbered as possible."

"Oh really?" you ask, clearly unconvinced.

Jago laughs again. "Eyes up, little bird," he orders. "Raise your blade. We begin now."

Unable to keep the grin off your face, you does as he commands.

"You remember what I've taught you?" he asks.

You give your sword a cursory twirl. "Of course I do." As if to emphasise the point, you hold it out in front of you in a defensive stance.

Jago gives you a satisfied smirk. "Guess we'll find out soon enough, won't we?" With that, the Night Lord lunges.

You slip to the side, parrying with your sword. The wooden blades crack against each other like bone, and the force of the impact sends painful vibrations rocketing up your arms. Grunting, you take several, darting steps back, but Jago refuses to give you any such breathing room. Several more time, your training blades clash. You know Jago is holding back; he has to, for if he didn't, his first strike would've likely snapped your arms in half. But even with his abilities actively reduced from demi-god levels, he's still faster and stronger than any baseline human could dream of being. Already, your breathing hard. Sweat pouring down your brow as your heart pounds relentlessly. Jago, on the other hand, has barely broken a sweat.

"Don't be shy, little bird," he says the next time the pair of you disengage. "You can't defend forever."

Between heavy breathes, you scowl at him. "Easy for you to say, Son of The Night Haunter, you."

Jago flashes that wry, crooked smile of his from the other side of the training mat. "No warrior is perfect," he says. "Even Astartes have certain aspects that can be exploited."

"Such as?"

"Just look at me, sweetheart. Two metres tall and half a tonne in weight, all of that being bloated muscle and reinforced bone." Jago holds his arms out wide. "What does that make me?"

"I don't know," you huff. "Strong?"

"Nope," says Jago

"Unbeatable?"

"Hah! I wish."

"Sexy?"

Jago laughs. "You flatter me, little bird. But no. Not the answer I am looking for."

"What then?"

The night lord sighs in mock exasperation. "It make me big," he says. "It makes me heavy. And no matter how fast or strong I am, it makes me very much at the mercy of physics and biomechanics. But you-" he points at you with his sword. "-my love, you are not so much. You are lighter. Your body, more flexible and maneuverable. Therefore, such natural laws are far more lenient on you than I. You understand?"

After taking a moment to think, you believe that you do. You tell Jago as much.

"I knew you would." Lowering his sword, Jago bares his teeth in a grin. "Now. Prove it to me."

Raising your sword, you approach him at a slink. Stepping on the balls of your feet, wooden blade out and pointed at his chest. Jago flurries his own weapon. Ripples of tension feather through the muscles of his chest and abdomen. He holds his sword low, clearly trusting himself to be fast enough to raise it should you choose to attack. But it is that very reflex that you intend to exploit.

With the technique of a fencer, you thrust at Jago's throat. Just as you'd guessed, he brings his sword up and around to block. But the moment you see his arm move, your strike turns into a feint. Ducking underneath his arm, you lock your blade around his shoulder and launch a savage kick into his knee. In the same moment, you wrench hard with your arms, turning your wooden sword into a lever over which you toss Jago to the ground. Of course, such a throw would never work in a true one-on-one fight with an Astartes. But against another baseline? Absolutely, it would. And, since he is currently moonlighting as such, Jago lets you take him down. The mat shakes as his body hits the ground. Before he can move to get up, you leap on top of him. Straddling his waist and bracing the edge of your mock sword against his throat. Your arms tremble from exertion, lungs burning as you breath hard and fast through your mouth. But as exhausted as you are there's a smile on your face. When Jago locks eyes with you, it only grows broader.

"That's my girl," he says, his adam's apple bobbing against your blade as he speaks.

In spite of yourself, his praise makes you giggle. "Does that mean I win?" you ask.

"Almost," Jago says. "But you've forgotten one very important thing."

You raise an eyebrow. "That being?"

Between your legs, you feel the rise and fall of his belly as he breathes in and out. You also feel him bending his knees and planting his feet on the floor. "When your opponent is so much larger than you..." Jago trails off. Then, quick as a snake, he grabs your sword with one hand and seizes your arm in the other. Bridging his hips, he throws you off him, sending you sprawling onto the mat. You yelp in surprise as Jago reverses your mount and straddles your hips. His weight is immense; your pelvis feels like it's being crushed beneath an anvil, while your legs and hips are completely and utterly pinned. Jago leans over you, grabbing your sword hand by the wrist while bracing his own sword hand on the floor right beside your ear. Lips peeling back into a predatory smile, he finishes his earlier warning. "...You must never take them to the ground."

Any outward observer would expect you be terrified, but in truth, you only feel flustered. Even after all this time, being this close to him- face millimetres from yours, naked, muscular body pressing against your own- still has your stomach winding itself into knots. And from the bulging hardness you can feel pressing against your lower belly, Jago is feeling the same way.

"This had nothing to do with training me, did it?" you whisper.

"Of course it did," Jago replies. "Your safety is the single most important thing to me. You know that."

"Fine. But it wasn't the only reason you brought me here, was it?"

For the briefiest of moments, Jago's smile turns sheepish. "Alright. You may have me there." Leaning closer still, he touches his forehead to yours. "You know how much I love a woman who can kick my ass."

You reply by kissing him. Tilting your head back so as to give you access to his lips, then locking them within yours with rough and enboldened hunger. Jago immediately returns it in kind. He drops his sword and releases your wrist, scooping one hand up underneath your waist while gripping you jaw with the other. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies fall into place around each other. Your legs wrapping tight around Jago's waist as he pulls you closer still. The heat between your legs presses the hardness between his, and even through the fabric of your clothes, the friction is enough to make you whine. The sound elicits a growl from Jago. You feel the hand at your jaw release, then slide down your front until it reaches the waistband of your trousers. He drags them off you, followed by your underwear. You gasp when the cold air kisses your exposed sex. But quickly, the sound devolves into a moan as Jago presses his fingers into your clit. Electricity bolts through your body. The heat in your core swells into an aching throb. You feel yourself growing wetter, hotter, more desperate and breathless. You claw your fingernails into Jago's back and let out another pleading moan.

"Jago..."

"I know, sweetheart," he rumbles. "But I've gotta slick you up first; don't want to hurt you."

You reply by bringing your hands up to his shoulder blades and digging your fingers into the neural ports embedded in the muscles there.

An involuntary shudder rips through Jago's entire body. His limbs buckle, sending him sprawling flat against your front. The sound that falls from his lips can only be described as a whimper.

"Oh, I see," he growls once he recovers. "And here I was thinking you liked me best when I was nice."

"Most of the time," you answer. "But not today."

Jago bares his teeth in a smile that's both affectionate and utterly lusting. "As you wish, little bird. But don't say I didn't warn you."

You open your mouth to reply, but before the words can reach your voice, Jago locks his hand around your throat. He unclasps his breeches, finally freeing his hard, aching cock. He lines his hips with up with yours, and with a single, savage thrust, drives himself all the way inside of you.

A cry bursts from your lips. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate his length, but even then, the fit is impossibly tight. Jago moans into your ear. The hand around your throat tightens. Without skipping a beat, he starts moving. Thrusting his hips hard, filling you up, pinning your clit against his public bone and rubbing it to the point of pain. Sparks and black spots burst within your vision. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull. Every one of your exhales is a whimper or a moan. Ecstasy doesn't come close to describing this feeling. This raw and primal pleasure that's got your every nerve in a chokehold. Meanwhile, Jago growls and snarls like a beast in rut. His breathing is loud and laboured, his every muscle bulging against his sweat-slick skin. The hand he hasn't got around your neck is pressed hard into your lower belly, forcing his cock deeper and deeper still.

The coil in your belly reaches critical mass. You can feel your orgasm coming, just on the horizon, but not quite there yet. There's no way in hell you could string together a sentence, so instead, you say his name. Once again finding Jago's shoulderblades with your fingers and clawing them into his neural ports.

"Jago... Jago..."

Jago's body shudders again, and a long, almost pained whine interrupts his snarling growls. On his next thrust, he rears up onto his knees, scooping up your leg with one hand and throwing it over his shoulder. The sparks in your eyes become stars. The coil in your belly becomes agonisingly tight. Your spine arches until it's not longer touching the ground and you let out another, desperate cry.

It's then that Jago decides to say something. The words are whispered in your ear, barely comprehensible amidst his growls and moans. But they're there. And they are what finally send you over the edge.

"That's my girl."

Orgasm grips you like a lightning strike. You throw your head back as a scream of ecstasy erupts from your throat. Every muscle in your body clenches and your walls squeeze Jago so tight it makes his voice crack. His rhythm suddenly falters. He releases your throat to claw his hand into the floor. With a throat-tearing roar, Jago finally hits his release, burying his face into your shoulder and pumping you full of his hot, thick seed. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you entangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as you both ride out your orgasms.

When yours finally fades, you collapse against the floor. You still have the energy to gasp at the feel of Jago pulling out, but aside from that, you're completely and utterly spent. Means when Jago rolls you onto your side and drags you into his body, you simply let him. Both of his hearts are beating hard; you can feel their twin pulses pounding against your ear. He doesn't simply hold you, either, but rather he's actively pulling you close. Pressing you hard against his chest and wrapping his arms around you tight as if he were trying to shelter you or keep you from being dragged away. His grip is crushing. His skin and hair both slick with sweat. Gently, you reach a hand up to his face and brush your fingers against his cheek. "Careful," you says softly. "Squeeze me any tighter and you might just break something."

You hear his breath hitch. Slowly, the pressure around your waist and shoulders diminishes. "Sorry," Jago mutters. The extra gravel in his voice confirms what you'd suspected from his pulse, that he's still coming down from his high.

Tilting your head up a little, you press your lips to his collarbone, then nuzzle your face into his chest. "It's okay. I forgive you. This time, at least."

Jago smirks, but says nothing. After a handful of quiet moments, you hear his heart rates finally begin to settle. His breathing deepens, then levels out and the residual tension in his body releases.

You choose that moment to caress his scarred cheek again. "I love you," you whisper.

His chest vibrates against your ear as he chuckles softly. "By the Warp. I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

"Do you doubt me?" you ask playfully.

"What? No! Of course not."

"You do not feel the same, then?"

That actually makes him growl. "Of course I do." The grip around your waist and shoulders tightens. "You know that."

You reassure him with another kiss to his collar bone. "So, why, then?"

"Why?" Another rumbling laugh. "Sweetheart. Look at me. Recall who I am and what I've done."

Retracting your hand, you start tracing one of the dozens of scars running down his chest with your finger. "I see Jago Sevetarion," you say. "The man who cares for me and protects me." You let your head fall against him, eyes slipping shut. "I see the man I love."

Your earnestness seems to take him by surprise, for he does not reply nor react right away. He doesn't seem to know how to. All he can think to do is pull you closer still and bury his face into the crook of your neck.

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