#if i knew how to manage a business I would SO turn this into one HEHEHEH

[natalievoncatte]

“Wake up,” Lex snarled.

Kara’s eyelids were brutally heavy. She couldn’t force them open no matter how she tried, and everything sounded distant, as if she were listening from underwater. The loudest sound was the blood rushing in her own ears and the steady march of her pulse, like the distant rush of some animal moving across leaves.

“Whu?” she managed to choke out.

“Open. Your. Eyes.”

Kara finally managed to split them open, blinking away gummy eyelashes to take a blurred look around the room. She wasn’t sure where she was, only that they were underground. Her limbs felt leaden and her body ached. It was soon clear why.

The chunk of kryptonite in front of her glowed a paler green than normal. It was different somehow, hard to look at.

“What? What did you do?”

“I broadened my mind,” said Lex.

Kara managed to raise her head and look at him. He was stripped to the waist, a flabby early middle aged business executive, much softer than he would allow anyone to realize. He looked a little absurd, especially after all the effort he put into a public image of a physically fit, debonair, imposing man.”

“What is this?”

“That is a very special type of kryptonite. You wouldn’t believe what I had to give up to get it. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

“Where are we?”

“Oh this place,” Lex said, glancing around the stone walls, lit by flicker torches and glowing Edison lamps. “A castle, in Scotland. It was incredibly expensive, I assure you. The grounds are quite lovely, though you’ll never have a chance to see them.”

“Of course I won’t,” Kara rasped. “Can you finish your monologue without the dramatic pauses? I’m on the clock.”

Lex smirked at her.

“This castle was built on a conduit of energy- a ley line. Actually several, and they converge beneath our feet. That and the peculiar construction -sandwiched within these walls are layers of copper, cold-hammered silver, and pure selenium- make it perfect for my purposes.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Oh no no no,” Lex laughed, “not everything is about you, Supergirl. This is about Lena.”

Kara heard a muffled cry and looked around frantically.

“She’ll join us shortly,” said “Lex. I wasn’t finished.”

“You talk too much.”

“Oh indeed. You know, I’ve wondered what she sees in an alien freak like you. Why you’re so alluring to her. I’ve often wondered why you never made a move- I know you think about it. Fantasize about it.”

“Shut up,” said Kara.

“I’ve been watching, you know. Did you think I’d let you out of my sight?”

Lex walked to a table and began toying with a long dagger with a thin, blue-black blade, drawing the edge over his thumb with a wince. He let a thin bloppy stream of his blood trickle into a silver chalice on the table before staunching the bleeding with a towel.

He turned to Kara sharply, holding the dagger.

“Know what?”

“Your little secret? Or should I say, your big secret?”

“I haven’t told her.”

He stopped and regarded her with a smile.

“I don’t mean your real name, Kara,” Lex chuckled. “I mean the other secret, you moron. The one that made you switch from the skirt to pants.”

“What? No, of course not…”

“I know what you want to do with her,” Lex said, kneeling to look Kara in the eye as the heavy chains weighed her down.

“Fuck you,” Kara spat.

“Oh dear me no, I don’t play catcher. Anyway, as I was saying, I think I know what she sees in you. Turns out that rutting with inhuman monsters is in my half sister’s blood. On her mother’s side, obviously. Someone in the deep end of my dear sister’s gene pool interbred with one of the fair folk. The kindly ones. The fey.”

“The what?”

Lex lashed out with the knife and a hot red sting slashed Kara’s cheek. To her shock she felt blood running down her jawline and chin. Lex let it drop into the chalice, mingling with his own, then stood up.”

“Bring her!” he shouted. “Otis you oaf, bring her in.”

Kara’s attention snapped to the far end of the room. Otis Graves shoved Lena into the room. Kara knew it was her even with a black bag over her head. Lena was barefoot and bruised, her blazer and skirt torn from putting up a fight.

There was a thin chain of dark metal looped lazily around her neck.

“Once I learned about this, I did what I always do,” said Lex. “I decided to master my circumstances. I studied, I learned, I applied what I’d researched.”

He turned back to Kara, and as her vision cleared, she saw that Lex was drawn and haggard, thinner than she remembered.

“It took me almost two years to prepare this ritual. I have walked trails blazed by gods. I had to beg, borrow, and steal to piece together the forbidden lore I need. I even had to strike treaties with the pit.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” said Kara.

“Lex,” Lena panted through her mask. “Don’t do this. Let her go. Please.”

Lex barked out a sharp laugh. “Let her go? Come on, sis. That’s Kara’s line.”

Lena let out a sharp gasp, visibly tensing.

“Kara?”

“It’s me, Lee.”

“Lee?” said Lex. “You hate that nickname.”

“Not from her,” Lena said softly.

“Lena, I don’t know what crazy nonsense he’s talking but I will get us out of this. He has some kind of-“

Kara was cut off as Lex kicked her hard in the belly, driving the toe of his shoe up under her ribs. The world exploded in pain and Kara doubled over, almost retching in agony.

“As much as I’d like to spend the rest of the day making you feel pain, we’re on the clock. I have power to acquire, a world to master, and a deal with a devil to weasel out of.”

“Lex,” said Lena. “You didn’t.”

“I did. Promised my immortal soul upon death, but alas, I’m never going to die. Otis, get her in place.

Kara strained at her chains as the big oaf wrenched Lena around and bound her hands behind her back with ancient looking iron manacles.

“The iron keeps her from trying any tricks,” Lex explained.

Kara was tired of his bullshit. The only thing that mattered was Lena’s shocked cry of agony when Otis forced her to her knees on the stone floor, followed by the whimper as he yanked the bag from her head. Her right eye was swollen almost shut and she had a split lip.

Incandescent rage boiled in Kara’s chest with the fury of a newborn star. If not for the strange kryptonite sapping her powers, Otis Graves would burn, screaming in agony in the terrible wrath of a Kryptonian’s gaze.

He hurt her. He hurt her Lena.

“You know how this is going to end, Lex.”

He was leafing through the pages of a heavy book on his work table.

“Out, Otis.”

Graves withdrew, smirking at Lena. She turned to Kara, eyes soft with emotion.

“Not often we get kidnapped together.”

“I’d rather have had a movie night.”

“Ugh, can you two please save the tearful love confession? I’m gagging.”

“Why didn’t you ever ask me out?” said Lena.

“I’m stupid,” Kara sighed. “I thought about it. I was scared. I thought… I don’t know.”

Lex rolled his eyes. “Danvers, are you really going to pretend you didn’t know that my sister is a rug muncher? It’s the worst kept secret in the Luthor family history. Throwing her into a girl’s boarding school was like throwing a pig in shit, but then Mother has always been a dolt.”

Kara ground her teeth. “Don’t talk about Lena like that.”

“Or?” said Lex. “Alright, look. I’d love to spend a bit longer taunting you, but I’m busy. The forms have been observed. I monologue, we taunt each other, I kill you.”

“No,” said Kara. “You try and fail and I drag you to jail.”

“Not this time,” said Lex.

“No, not this time,” said Kara. “This time I break my biggest rule.”

Lena stared at her across the room, eyes wide.

“I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore.”

“How noble,” Lex deadpanned. “Hold still, sis.”

He grabbed her by the chin, dabbing a thin paintbrush in the chalice, and began to paint lines and sworls on Lena’s face in their mingled blood. When Lena tried to turn, her let go and backhanded her across the face. Lena almost fell to the floor and let out a pained yelp.

Kara pulled hard at the chains but the held fast. She felt like she was weighed down by an invisible force, unseen hands digging spectral fingers into her arms and legs.

“It’s interesting,” said Lex. “Everyone assumes you have one weakness- Kryptonite. But you’re just as vulnerable to magic as anyone else.”

“What?” said Kara. “You’re insane.”

“I don’t think he is,” Lena said, wincing at her split lip. “When I was a girl, there were rumors that my mother was a witch, and she did some… some things I didn’t understand.”

Lex smirked.

He propped the book open on his forearm, making a final study of the markings he’d drawn on Lena’s face.

“You know the most annoying part?” said Lex. “It’s that you can’t just do magic. The power source, as it were, has to come from somewhere. The most common place to get it is from ancestor fucking a dragon or a god damned fairy or some other absurd thing. I don’t have the spark. But she does.”

He looked at Lena, a feral, hungry glint in his eye, and began to chant, reading from the book.

Kara flinched. The words sounded wrong, twisting and turning unnaturally as they fell from Lex’s mouth. The air grew heavy, as if a coat of soot and oil fell over everything, and a hideous stink of rotten eggs filled the room.

Lena cried out, eyes flying open in shock. She tried to say something but choked.

Kara lunged, desperate to free herself, to break the chains, to reach Lena and spirit her to safety the way she always did, but she was helpless. A terrible certainty of her own death fell over her like an ebon cloak, and she felt a distinct certainty of things, other presences in the room just out of sight.

“Lex,” Lena pleaded, “Stop. Please. You’re hurting me.”

Kara let out a sharp snarl, a ripping sound of threat from deep in her chest.

Lex briefly broke his chant. “Yes, the ritual will most likely kill you. No great loss. The world has enough degenerates and alien-fuckers as it is.”

He resumed his chanting, and Kara felt a sudden wave of agony through her body. She tried to scream but no sound came. It was as if a giant’s hands had shoved into her chest and begun crushing her lungs from the inside. She fell boneless to the floor, writhing in pain.

Lena lay on her side, tears streaming from her eyes, tears that tinged pink with blood as she jerked and convulsed, teeth clenched.

And Lex… Lex changed.

There was a soft crack and the rhythm of his chanting changed. He grew taller before Kara’s eyes. His arms swelled, corded with new muscle as his paunchy belly flattened and tightened into a washboard.

“That’s right,” he snarled. “Soon it all be mine. All your beautiful power mine. I will be powered by the sun! Lex Luthor will fly faster than a speeding bullet, bend steel in his bare hands! I will be a god, and when I am I will finally lead humanity into its glory! My glory! Lex Luthor, the Man of Tomorrow! Invincible! Immortal!”

Kara could feel herself fading, the world irising shut as death stalked her from below, a hungry predator always waiting just beyond the edges of her gaze. Her hands were pale, the flesh drawn so tight to the bone that they seemed barely more than skeletal. Her hands actually slipped free of her manacles, but she might as well be buried beneath a mountain for all the good it did. She had no strength to move.

Yet she could speak.

“Lena,” Kara rasped out, “Lena!”

Lena forced her eyes open.

“You have to fight him.”

“I can’t,” said Lena, her face shattering into a mask of agony. “It hurts so much, and I’m too weak.”

“You are not weak!” Kara spat, with all her remaining strength. “You’re beautiful and powerful and… magical. You’re my Lena.”

“Kara,” Lena gasped.

“I love you.”

“Kara!”

“I love you, Lena. Please, I need you to know.”

“I know,” Lena choked out, pinching her eyes shut, tears of blood streaking her face as she clenched her jaw in tooth shattering pain. “Oh God I know, Kara. I love you too. I love you so much it hurts. I just wish we had more time. I…”

She went silent, and still. Kara stared at her for an awful endless moment of white hot pain as something ate her alive from the heart out, yet that pain paled next to the agony of watching Lena suffer. She was almost glad that death would take her first, but prayed to the god of a distant broken world that Lena wouldn’t have to see it. She felt a dim hope that somewhere past this, in fields beneath a crimson star there would be a place for them, that Rao would find a way to bring Lena home to Him, that He would not let her wander in the dark, forever lost.

Kara had fucking earned a little grace.

Then, Lena’s eyes shot open, ablaze with stunning, brilliant light. She wrenched from the floor with a sudden strength and arched her back, screaming.

Lex looked down at her as the iron manacles fell ruined from her wrists and she yanked the chain from her throat, her hands wreathed in otherworldly light as the links snapped.

Slowly she rose to her feet, eyes still blazing.

Lena screamed, a banshee wail that shook the walls around them, and her cry seemed to swallow Lex’s frantic chanting, opening vast shark-toothed jaws of music that gouged into his feeble warbling and bit down, devouring it.

He stumbled back, frantically turning pages in his book.

“Fuck you,” Lena snarled, and the words carried an intensity, a physical force just as Lex’s had, but where his sharp wrenching syllables turned the air somehow profane and tainted it with invisible filth, Lena’s burned, not as fire but as daylight burns, clear and bright to chase dark crawling things back into their hateful shadows.

With a soft cracking sound, the strange chunk of tainted kryptonite turned a dull gray.

It had become lead.

Kara planted her palms and pushed up to kneel. She could feel, see the vitality coming back to her. Her frame expanded from skeletal and deathly thin to its normal self, slabs of lithe muscle bunching beneath her colors and crest as she stood and watched Lex shrinking.

Lena sagged, suddenly winded, grabbing the table for support.

Lex silent and stunned, wasted no opportunity. He snatched the dagger from where it lay and raised it high to slam down into Lena’s back.

It clattered to the floor instead as Kara effortlessly grabbed his wrist, feeling her thumb drive between the bones of his forearm.

“I,” Kara said, “am tired of you hurting us.”

So she hurt him.

Lex screamed in agony as Kara closed her hand, pulling every bone in his forearm. She reached out and seized his throat, savoring the hate and terror in his eyes as red sun fire blazed in her own, savage loathing kindling a blaze in her chest. This ended now.

A soft hand fell on her shoulder.

“Kara,” said Lena. “Don’t.”

“Lena,” she rasped.

“Not for him. For you. He made his own grave. Let him lie in it.”

Kara turned and looked at her. There was still blood on her face- the mingled painted lines smeared with her own. She looked so small and fragile and soft and the furnace that burned in Kara was doused, and suddenly nothing mattered but making her safe.

Kara let the sniveling coward go and brought Lena into her embrace, sheltering her with all her might.

“We have to go. Now. Trust me.”

“Yes,” Lex gasped, “time to leave, take me to jail now.”

Kara looked down. Lena’s eyes hardened.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Kara raised her foot and brought out down, snapping Lex’s ankle in a single sharp motion. He screamed and collapsed, crawling for the door.

Kara heaved Lena into a bridal carry and walked past him.

“Supergirl!” Lex bellowed, “you can’t leave me here! You don’t know what’s coming.”

“I don’t care,” said Kara.

She shoved the door open with her foot, then turned to close it the same way. Lena clung to her, arms around her neck.

“Lock him in.”

Kara did more than that. A quick flicker of heat vision welded the heavy metal door closed. Lex screamed and pleaded from the other side.

Something was coming. Something ancient.

“Please. Get us out of here,” said Lena.

A crimson light blazed behind the door, bleeding through its edges. The stink of rotten eggs filled the corridor. Kara turned and carried Lena away.

“Wait!” Lex called. “Supergirl! You can’t leave me here!”

Kara ignored him and kept walking.

“No,” Lex was screaming, “no, wait, we can make another deal, a trade, there has to be something I can-“

“You tried to trick me,” something said in a voice like a hot knife dragged across a tombstone.

“What is that?” Kara whispered.

“I don’t know and I don’t want to,” said Lena. “Get us out of here. Take me home, Kara.”

Kara touched a soft kiss to her forehead, a promise of more and deeper to come. Once they were outside, Kara used the comm bead in her ear, and called Alex, told her what happened.

“Let’s go home, baby,” said Kara.

A year later, she flew back to the castle.

It was secluded, somehow forgotten, a tumbledown ruin. Heart thudding in her chest with uncharacteristic fear, she walked down the corridor into the underground and slammed the door open with her first.

No remains. No body. There was only one sign that Lex had been there at all. Scratches across the store floor, one with a fingernail still stuck in it.

As if he had been dragged.

Kara rocketed outside at supersonic speed, desperate to feel the sun and cleanse the oily, tainted feeling in that room. A cold, lingering dread welled inside her, twisting deep in her belly.

She had to be sure.

Part of her regretted what she did to the old ruin. It was history. Only part of her.

The rest of her flew fifth thousand feet up and came straight back down fast enough to destroy the stonework in massive shockwave that dug a crater where the building had stood seconds before. She then turned her heat vision on it, burning and melting. By the time she was done, by the time it no longer felt like she was being watched, as if she might be followed, there was nothing left but a smoldering, glassy crater. It looked like someone had dropped an atomic bomb.

It still felt like something slithered beneath, but whatever it was, it would not follow and that was all that mattered.

Kara flew. She had places to be. She’d already planned a date night with Lena.

Alex was watching their baby.

[cantfightmoonlight]

"I was more referring to how she takes pleasure in gossip. But, she certainly stole the show, didn't she?" The corner of her lips tilted up into a soft and amused smile at the thought. "Fair enough," was all she said in regards to Todd though, in her own personal opinion, she felt that Rohan and Todd both had a tendency to carry a grudge. Not that she couldn't relate. She just would have acted differently if she had been in shoes is all.

"You want to be frank? Let's be frank. Aaliyah did make decisions in my absence and I take responsibility for ever single one, whether I would have done the same or not, just as I take responsibility for how I voted in that room. But, there is a difference between taking responsibility for my own choices and letting it pass, which as I've pointed out to you over and over again at this point, I didn't let the decision to ban you simply pass. As much as you'd like to believe I did, that decision would have still been in affect if it wasn't for me. You considered joining the pack with Jonah. Do you honestly believe you would have been able to if I hadn't pushed to have the ban re-evaluated?" She asked with a curve of her brow, only to let out a scoff as he continued on. "Listen here, Rohan Persaud-Rivas, you can stand there and resent me for the way I voted all you'd like, but don't you dare belittle what happens behind that room. A solitary advisor? The entire Council voted for you to be banned before I agreed. I was out number. Your fate was already decided, declaring war between species had already been threatened and I have no jurisdiction in that room over any witch. So, as I told you before and I'll say it again- while I am sorry I hurt you, I am not sorry for choosing not to pick a fight with the Supreme and put a target on the clan's back for a fate I knew I wouldn't be able to change in that instant regardless. I decided to find another way. I managed to have your fate overturned and prevented a potential target on the clan's back. And I'd do it again as much as that might not be what you want to hear."

"I'm not excusing myself. I'm simply pointing out that, when I step into the Council Room, I am no different than anyone else there. I'm not a Mayor in that room. I am the Clan Leader and, as I've already said, I continue to lead, because I gave this town and the Clan my word and if didn't, the people I care about would be worse of. When my turn as Mayor is up though, I hope you all are happy when Damien Blake or JC or who ever else decides to take on this thankless job in my stead."

"Yes. I made a choice, but so did you. You broke the accords. You put us all in the position to have to decide your fate and I made a decision you didn't like. Me questioning whether or not I can trust you has nothing to do with you having been or being upset about the choice I made and everything to do with how you chose to ignore me and avoid me rather than having the balls to have a god damn conversation about it. If you had done something that pissed me off, I would have come and talked to you, immediately, because I care about you and you're important to me. I would have wanted to hear your side. So, yes. I don't know if I can trust you, because the second I did something you didn't like, you cut all contact. If you were or are mad about my stance on the matter now, I understand. But, you didn't give me a chance to explain. You didn't even tell me that you were upset until months later. So, how do I know that it won't happen again? How do I know that you won't start avoiding me out of the blue and leave me to have to wonder if I did something to offend you or if I'm being paranoid and you're simply busy?"

"I nearly died, Rohan, and I'm tired. I don't have the energy to try to decipher anyone's feelings nor do I expect anyone to decipher mine. So, I'm telling you how I feel which is that I don't know if I should trust you. Not that I don't trust you. But, that I feel like I might regret it down the line, if I continue to. You think my feelings are ridiculous? Fine. So be it. But, it's how I feel. Either we can talk through it and go on being friends or we can call it here. But, I'm not getting in your car if you chose the latter. It's really that simple."

"Well, Dilan has other ways of getting her point across. Someone getting shoved off a stage is about as Christmas-y in Lunar Cove as snow or gingerbread," Rohan replied with a soft sigh. He shook his head back and forth. "I know he didn't possess me on-purpose, but...his behavior while doing so was less than becoming. Besides, he's tied very strongly to one of the worst nights of my life. Again, not his fault, but it's best we don't try to co-mingle. It's not a one-sided sentiment either, for what it's worth. I understand he's very frustrated that he gets injured when I do." Rohan gave a weak shrug. "I wish him well. I just don't think we need to hang."

Rohan raised an eyebrow. "I mean...yeah? Nico didn't agree with JC's decision. And sure, I'll give you that him leaving put JC in the position to make one. That happened. But I'll also be frank, Meena. Would you have stood behind whatever hypothetical decision Aaliyah may have made in your absence? It would be understandable. United front. But if Aaliyah had voted to ban me, would you have let it pass?" He shook his head. "I also don't begrudge Nico for prioritizing Jasmine. I would prioritize Jonah. But, like...look, if a solitary advisor is enough to make a ripple through the policy of every faction of the town, then I don't know what to say about that."

Rohan knit his brow. "You're the mayor. You're the leader of the vampires. You have your say. Excuse yourself it that's what you want to do. And if you don't want to be either of those things anymore, then stop being them. In any case, Poppy and I aren't friends anymore. So, believe me, no one got a pass. You know what? Maybe Ben did, but he's practically my in-law. And we didn't really know each other at the time."

A hand came up to rub at his temple, but actual irritation now crept into Rohan's voice. "No. No. We're not doing that. You don't get to 'look what you made me do' me. You made a choice, Meena. You can't trust me? Why? Because I was upset by something you did to me? That's ridiculous. Completely. So you know what? Why don't we just call it here in that case? I'm sorry. I can't...like, be half-friends, aware you don't trust me. I just don't think it's going to work. For both our sakes. I'll still give you the ride if you want it, but that's probably not a good idea, is it?"

[loopstagirl]

Mute

For @febuwhump day 1: vocal chords

-x-

“Enough!” 

John smirked as his captor stalked away, frustration radiating from him. He wasn’t having trouble getting John to talk: he was having trouble getting him to talk either in a language he understood or for John to say anything his somewhat limited intellect could handle. 

Shifting position, John sighed. He couldn’t doubt the man’s intelligence that much. Not considering his shore-leave had somehow ended up with him handcuffed to a chair in a warehouse downtown New York somewhere. He’d promised Scott he’d be back at the penthouse for lunch after dropping something off at the office. He wasn’t worried about this man killing him: he was more concerned what his big brother would do when he failed to show up on time. 

“We’re going to try something new.” 

John blinked. The man was back in front of him. John didn’t say anything, just stared at him, acting bored. Yes, he was worried: his hands were cuffed behind him; his captor had managed to whisk him off busy streets without anyone being the wiser; somehow, he also seemed adamant John was able to access his father’s accounts and was refusing to take no for an answer. 

(John wasn’t going to admit that he could: even his dad didn’t know that. John intended to keep it that way.) 

His gaze moved past the man and his heart sank. A camera had been set up. So much for hoping he could get himself out of this without anyone noticing he’d gone. 

He knew how this went. They all did. It wasn’t the first time some low-life criminal had got lucky and attempted to ransom one of them. While they had never got away with it, John wasn’t in the mood to handle his brothers’ teasing that he’d ruined his reputation of being the only one not taken hostage one way or another. Even if Gordon protested that his captors had been of kindergarten age and didn’t count. 

“John!” 

John blinked. He hadn’t paid attention as the man had set up a vid-call with the island. His father’s concerned face was staring back at him from a small monitor. Judging by the tone of his voice, that hadn’t been the first time he’d called John’s name. 

“I’m okay.” John forced a smile. 

“This is how it’s going to go,” his captor said. “Your son is going to tell you what I want. You are going to comply. You will regret it if you don’t.” 

“You’ll regret it if he does,” John muttered. While the man didn’t hear his words, he heard him say something. 

“And you.” He rounded on John. “You’re going to tell your father exactly what I want, or you’ll pay, understand?” 

John didn’t bother answering. He just stared coolly back. 

“Go on then.” His captor gestured at the camera. 

“Downtown New York. Six blocks from the office minimum. Warehouse. Damp smelling, old, can just about hear traffic-,” 

“Silence!” 

The man approached, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking John’s head back.  

“Middle-aged, Caucasian, brown trousers, green-,”  

John gasped. His mouth stayed open in pain as agony shot from a point in his neck, fire running through his veins as he squeezed his eyes shut. Chest heaving, he forced them open to look at the camera. 

His dad was on his feet, yelling something, but there was a ringing in his ears that stopped John from hearing him properly. He tried to say something... and nothing happened. 

His mouth moved, his brain yelled, and no words came out of his mouth. 

“Ah yes, I thought that might shut you up.” The man sounded smug now. John looked at him in time to see him throw a needle in the bin. The man saw him looking and chuckled. 

“I just paralysed your vocal chords,” he sneered. “Be thankful it’s a targeted drug and the effects don’t spread. But never fear: I have another dose if we need it.” 

He turned back to the camera. “Now, where were we?” 

“John!”  

His dad was ignoring the man, his attention fixed on his son. John tried to speak again, but nothing. He shook his head desperately, staring at the image of his father, rising panic making his breathing pick up. 

“It’s okay, Johnny.” The reassuring note helped him control the rapid rise and fall of his chest. 

“It’s not okay!” his captor screamed. “I’ve paralysed your son’s vocal chords, Tracy. Next one goes in his heart!” 

“I don’t think so.” 

John recognised the cold edge to his dad’s voice. The man had overplayed his hand. He might’ve walked away if he just asked for money and didn’t harm John. Of course, he wouldn’t have got a cent, but he might have kept his life. Now, however, it was a different story. 

“You don’t understand-,” 

“No. You don’t understand. You’ve made a very big mistake coming after my family and my boy. If this is not temporary, no jail on earth will keep you safe from me.” 

There was utmost certainty in Jeff’s voice. But it didn’t reassure John. Not temporary? It had to be temporary! His voice was his life! He’d be no good to his family, to International Rescue, to the world, if he couldn’t speak. 

“You-,” 

Whatever the man was about to say was lost in a tremendous crash as the door was kicked in. John looked, but he didn’t need to. Only Scott would make an entrance like that, and the terrified squeak from his captor meant it had the desired effect. 

In two strides, Scott was across the room, his hands bunched in the fabric of the man’s shirt, almost lifting him from his feet. 

“You okay, J?” 

John stared helplessly at his brother. When he didn’t answer, Scott glanced at him. He didn’t say anything else, not needing to ask but seeing the sheer panic in John’s expression. He put the man down. 

“That’s right. I’ve silenced the know-it-all-,” 

He probably didn’t even see Scott’s fist coming. After checking he was out cold once he’d hit the floor, Scott straightened. He too was breathing hard. 

“No one calls him that,” he spat. He glanced at the monitor before hurrying to John. 

“Are you okay?” 

John shook his head. He tried to speak again and stared at Scott, willing him to understand. 

“It’s alright. I’m getting you out of here.” 

John didn’t pay attention as Scott freed his hands and spoke quickly to their dad. From what he did hear, Scott had already been tracking his signal and was close by. John’s description of his location had helped him pinpoint it even quicker. But he couldn’t listen as his dad returned the favour and told Scott why John couldn’t talk. 

“Let’s get you to the hospital, little brother.” 

Scott helped him up. John pointed at the man, then when Scott frowned, shrugged off his brother’s grip and rummaged in the fellow’s pockets. He shuddered when he realised he’d been telling the truth; there was another dose waiting. Scott took it from him. 

“Understood.”  

The doctors would need it to know what he’d been hit with. Hopefully, it would mean they also knew how long the effects would last or have a counterdrug on hand to help. 

A couple of hours later and John had been examined. They’d taken his blood, prodded and poked around his throat, asked him questions he couldn’t answer until someone had finally given him an old-fashioned pad and pen. 

The examination felt like a lifetime. Scott stayed in the room, but kept quiet after a formidable doctor told him that he either shut up or get out. Just because John couldn’t speak didn’t mean he couldn’t answer for himself. Scott had done as he was told. 

Eventually, the doctors were in a huddle on the far side of the room. Scott moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. John held up a hand, asking his brother to be quiet as he strained to hear what was being said. 

“... results are back. It should’ve worn off by now.” 

“We’ll keep monitoring. Let’s do another CT to see if the nerves have been damaged.” 

They left, having no idea their patient had heard them. John looked at Scott, and knew his brother saw the terror in his eyes. 

“It’ll be okay.” Scott took his hand, kneeling by the bed. “I swear, it’ll be okay.” 

John shook his head, blinking through tears as he gestured for Scott to hand him the pad. His brother obliged. 

What if it’s not? 

“Then we’ll find a way,” Scott said. “You know us, Johnny, we always find a way.” 

And if we can’t? If I can’t speak... 

He glanced at the door. He didn’t dare write anything about IR. Scott understood, though. 

“If this is permanent,” his voice shook as he said it, “then we will adapt.” 

John closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Scott. He didn’t understand. Scott was a man of action: he let his body language (or fists, sometimes) do the talking for him. But from the moment he’d learnt to talk, John knew that was what he was destined to do. What was the point of having knowledge if he couldn’t share it? What was the point of monitoring the world’s problems if he couldn’t offer reassurance, couldn’t talk his brothers through danger zones? Couldn’t yell warnings or offer comfort from Thunderbird Five after a bad rescue? 

If he couldn’t speak, John didn’t know who he was. 

“J. Look at me.”  

As always, he was helpless to resist the commanding tone in Scott’s voice. 

“We have Brains. We have Dad.”  

John read between the lines – they had their father’s money, which meant they had the best specialists in the world. 

He started to shake his head again, but Scott rested his hands (gently) on John’s neck, stopping the action. 

“We have options, John. Besides, it might still be fine. Just because it’s taken longer to wear off than it should do doesn’t meant that it won’t. Not like the guy was a pro at sticking needles in people.” 

John knew Scott was trying to cheer him up but it wasn’t working. The fact the man hadn’t been a professional only increased the risk that he’d done something irreversible. Scott saw that his efforts were in vain and he stood up. 

“Dad’s on his way. I’ll go and talk to your doctors, find out exactly what they think rather than what we’ve overheard. It’s going to be alright, little brother.” 

He squeezed John’s shoulder, gave him a long, worried look, and left. 

Once alone, John tried to speak. His mouth was open, his throat working, but not even a whisper escaped him. The words were all in his mind, ready to spill out, to tell everyone was he was thinking, what he was feeling, but nothing. 

No matter what he tried, he couldn’t make a sound. 

He didn’t know how long he tried for. It was if he lost all sense of time, eventually coming back to himself only to realise he was out of bed, on his knees by the side of it, hands scrunched in the blanket in his frustration. The silence of the room was deafening him, mocking him with the idea that’s what he’d be surrounded by now. 

With a wordless cry, he swung his arm up, knocking everything off the unit next to the bed with an almighty clatter. His mouth stayed open in a silent scream. Running footsteps hurried towards his room, Scott bursting in, a doctor on his heels. 

“John!” 

John doubled up as Scott dropped to his knees next to him. Strong arms pulled him upright, holding him. 

“We need answers, doctor,” Scott commanded. “Whatever it takes.” 

“Understood, Mr Tracy.” 

The doctor disappeared again. John closed his eyes, trying to focus on the rhythmic sound of Scott’s heartbeat under his ear, hoping it would calm him. 

“I know what your voice means to you, John. It means everything to the rest of us as well. Knowing that you’re watching over us, guiding us through situations that need an eye in the sky viewpoint. Hearing you reassure us that we did everything we could, even when it feels like we didn’t. What you have to say keeps our family together: it always has. No matter what the doctor says, we will not give up. And I meant it earlier: if there is no easy fix, we’ll adapt. No voice doesn’t mean you can’t speak, little brother. I promise.” 

John couldn’t bring himself to nod. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, allowing the tears to leak out as Scott gently rocked them both, as if John was still the little boy who didn’t understand why other children picked on him for always knowing the answer. 

“I promise, J. It’s going to be okay.”  

There was something safe about Scott’s arms. He didn’t need to speak for his brother to know what he wanted. They stayed there, Scott either not noticing or uncaring that John was soaking his shirt. After a while, he dozed off, exhausted by the day’s events. 

“How is he?” The quiet voice drew him back to alertness. He was still in Scott’s arms but as he regained consciousness, he felt a soft blanket being placed on his shoulders. 

“How you’d expect,” Scott said. “Still can’t speak. The guy who did this to him?” 

“In custody.” It was their dad’s voice. “About to get hit with everything our lawyers can get on him.” 

“Good.” 

“I’ll take him,” their dad offered, but Scott’s grip tightened. 

“I’ve got him.”  

“Virgil’s gone to find coffee and Gordon and Alan are checking the penthouse is secure if we need to stay in town.” 

“It is secure. He wasn’t taken from there.” 

“I know that, and you know that, but your brothers don’t, do they?” 

Scott gave a small chuckle that John felt reverberating through his entire body. No doubt their siblings needed something to do, and John was glad they weren’t all crowding him when he couldn’t reassure them. 

He tapped Scott’s forearm with one finger. His brother’s hold changed until he helped John sit up. John pulled the blanket further around his shoulders, although he wasn’t sure if he was cold or not. 

“Hey, kiddo,” his dad said warmly. “Wanna let your brother off the floor?” 

He took his father’s outstretched hand, allowing him to draw him first to his feet, then into a hug. John smiled weakly when the man drew back. 

“Still no luck, huh?” 

John shook his head and glanced away. It was bad enough that Scott had seen his emotions overcome him. He didn’t want his dad seeing them too. 

“Don’t mind me,” Scott pretended to grumble as he got to his feet. “I’m just the one that’s had a sleeping lump on me for the last hour or so.” 

“You’ll survive,” Jeff said lightly. John appreciated that they were giving him something else to focus on.  

He reached out, touching Scott’s arm and nodding in appreciation. Scott smiled. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

John sat down on the edge of the bed, absently rubbing his throat, wondering, praying, that it was feeling any different. He couldn’t tell.  

He pulled the pad towards him, flicking to his last message to Scott and turning the paper to face his father. 

If I can’t speak... 

He was only supposed to be home for another couple of days. Alan had come down early so Brains could run some maintenance. John was due back on Thunderbird Five by the end of the week. They needed a plan, needed a contingency... 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” his dad murmured. “We’ll deal with that as and when the time arrives. I’ve spoken to your doctors. They aren’t sure why the drug hasn’t worn off, but have a few options of things they want to try. We’re nowhere near the end of the line yet, Johnny.” 

He nodded glumly. They were speaking sense. He’d be the first to tell one of the others not to panic; there was still time and alternatives before they needed to dwell on worst case scenarios. But it was apparently a lot easier reassuring them than it was himself. 

He drew his knees up, hugging them to his chest, feeling young and vulnerable. His family appeared around him, gentle touches and words of reassurance as they tried to make him feel better. But every time he tried to say something, nothing happened. 

Gordon and Alan exchanged worried looks. Virgil was pouring over his chart, murmuring suggestions out loud to Scott, who was watching John and probably not understanding a word. Their dad was once again talking to the doctors somewhere out of sight. 

They’d sat around a bedside, all of them together, countless times over the years. Maybe it was a good thing that John couldn’t tell them to just leave him alone. He was feeling crowded, slowly suffocating under their concern. 

When he finally looked up, he felt Gordon’s eyes on him. There wasn’t pity or sympathy, but understanding. He, more than the rest of them, knew what it meant to lose the one thing that defined who you were and not be sure if you were going to get it out. 

“Everyone!” Gordon called, waiting until the voices had faded away. “Get lost.” 

Alan opened his mouth to protest, but Virgil looked between Gordon and John and grabbed his arm, pulling him out.  

Gordon followed them to the door, poking a finger in Scott’s chest.  

“You, stay.” 

“Yes, sir,” Scott said sarcastically but Gordon was already leaving, calling after the other two to wait up. 

“Budge up,” Scott said, climbing onto the bed next to him. He reached for the TV remote, flicking it on and channel-hopping until he found something vaguely interesting. John wasn’t paying attention to the show, and he doubted Scott was either, but the feeling of his brother’s shoulder pressed against his said more than any words could. 

It was late by the time the doctor returned. His dad had joined them, flicking through his datapad but content to not speak. John highly doubted the other three had gone back to the penthouse like they were supposed to, but were no doubt lurking in the hospital somewhere, waiting for news. 

“We’re going to try something,” the doctor said. He held up a syringe. “With your permission?” 

Scott shuffled out of the way. John looked from the needle to the doctor, and shuddered. 

“I’m here, J,” Scott murmured. His dad also stood up to stand the other side of the bed. 

“We both are.” 

John couldn’t watch. He closed his eyes as the doctor approached. There was a sharp scratch that made him suck in an involuntary breath, but nothing like the pain from before. He swallowed hard. 

“Give it a minute, and try and speak,” the doctor instructed.  

John did so. 

Nothing. 

Not a sound escaped him. 

He looked at the doctor, desperate, but the man was frowning. 

“I hoped that would work. Right, let’s see what else we can do. Don’t you worry, Mr Tracy, we won’t let this beat us.” 

John wasn’t sure which ‘Mr Tracy’ he was talking to, but the doctor hurried out of the room, muttering to himself. 

“I’ll find out the plan,” Jeff said, squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t worry.” 

He went after the man. Scott grimaced. 

“I won’t ask if you’re okay,” he said.  

A treacherous tear slipped from John’s eye, but Scott caught it on his thumb.  

“You heard the doc, Johnny. He’s not given up. Neither should you.” 

John nodded, not able to look Scott in the eye. He couldn’t fall apart on him, not again. Scott seemed to read that in his expression. 

“I’ll give you a minute,” he said. “Fill the others in.” 

Gordon had always needed someone by his side when he was injured or sick. Virgil always wanted Scott. But John had preferred his own space and knew that Scott was trying to respect that now. His brother turned away, heading to the door. 

STAY! Screamed John’s mind. 

“Stay.” 

Scott whipped around, grinning. John blinked at him. 

“What did you just say?” 

Slowly, realisation crept upon John. He hadn’t just said it in his mind. He’d spoken the word, out loud. 

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 26

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 800

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Once again, Lucy was on the other side of the door, like earlier this morning.

Summoning my courage, I opened it. She stood there in jeans and a cashmere sweater.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked, my voice strained.

"Ona, I’m the mayor of this city! And you really have an issue with opening damn doors," she retorted, walking into my apartment uninvited.

"By all means, come in," I said sarcastically.

She turned to face me, her expression sharp, that stern look she wielded so well.

"What the hell were you thinking, Ona? I called you so many times about this morning’s meeting! No answers, nothing! When did you leave? How?" she demanded.

Her face softened as she looked at me. I must have appeared utterly exhausted, my eyes red from crying. I sank onto the couch, and she sat a few feet away.

"At 5 a.m., by taxi," I replied.

"By taxi? Are you insane? That must have cost a fortune!"

"205 euros," I admitted.

"Why, Ona? Why put yourself through this? Is it because of last night? I mean, it’s not the first time..."

She searched my eyes, but I avoided her gaze, her voice calm now.

"Because I betrayed one of the people I care about most. We’re supposed to buy a house in four days; she gave up Canada for me. And what do I do? I sleep with the first temptation that comes along!"

"Well, thank you for reducing me to that," Lucy snapped.

"That’s what we are, Lucy! You said it yourself—it’s just sex. A game we play. We’ve been provoking each other since the start. But this time, it’s different. This time, I was with Alessia again. And at the very first event, I caved..."

My voice broke, laden with sadness and guilt.

"She doesn’t have to know. I’m certainly not going to tell her," Lucy said, her voice measured.

I got up, pacing the apartment.

"You don’t understand! I’m talking about trust! How can I look her in the eye again without feeling ashamed?"

"So this is my fault, then?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"No, it’s MY fault. It’s MY fault for being so weak around you. MY fault for not stopping myself in time. MY fault for falling headfirst into your little game..."

Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to cry in front of her.

"Stop calling it a game, okay? Do you think this is just a game for me, Ona?"

She stood, her fists clenched in frustration. We locked eyes in a silent standoff.

"Why the hell did you even bring me to that weekend, Lucy? There are thousands of entrepreneurs in your city! You picked me. Why? If not to play, to toy with this ‘little architect’ who’d fall right back into your arms!" I spat.

"And you were right in the end!" I added bitterly.

She bit her lower lip, struggling for words. Finally, she spoke, her gaze dropping to the floor before meeting mine again.

"I’ll tell you something, Ona. The day I invited you, when I came to your firm, I wasn’t in your neighborhood at all. I knew you wouldn’t come if I emailed, so I showed up, praying Alessia would push you to go since it’s harder for her now with the baby. Yes, I didn’t invite you purely for your business..."

I shrugged, unsurprised. I had suspected her motives all along.

"I figured as much. You didn’t—"

"Ona, shut up and listen to me," she interrupted. "This isn’t something I say often. I invited you because I missed you. Of course, I missed your body—feeling you, touching you..." 

I looked away, blushing, but she gently lifted my chin so I couldn’t avoid her eyes.

"But more than that, I missed  you . Talking to you, your smile, your presence. I wanted to see you, but it was easier to use the conference as an excuse than to ask you outright. I don’t know how to do that sort of thing. And then there was Alessia, who you got back with..."

Hearing Lucy’s words, her almost-confession, left me reeling. This wasn’t just fleeting passion. There was more to it—something deeper.

Barely managing to speak, I murmured, "Why now?"

"Because I see you hurting, thinking things that aren’t true. I’m not making promises, Ona. I’m just telling you how I feel, right now, in this moment."

She exhaled deeply. "I’m going to go now."

She let her hand brush lightly down my arm as she walked to the door. Just before leaving, she turned back and said softly:

"I want to see you again, Ona."

[kyurochurro]

Frankie Stein!! ⚡ Part 1 of 3 for my 2023 Howl-o'ween Monster High Series!! 🎃 >:)

(Draculaura and Clawdeen are next!! Stay tuned for them, I'll link them on this post later on when they're done!)

[wcters]

𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘

pairing: max verstappen x fem!leclerc!reader

word count: 1.6k+

summary: the story of how you and max met . . . and how protective he and your brothers can be

request: max verstappen and leclerc!reader : overprotective charles and carlos, very domestic and protective max while theyre int he paddock during race, maybe hes also very affectionate. just some fluff and comedy

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos, established relationships | maybe took it too far with the beginning but i couldn’t help it, plus that’s something that max would do

As the youngest sibling and only girl, you knew your family would be protective ━━ especially your brothers. Sometimes you liked it, and used it to your advantage by scaring off random guys at parties and being a little less afraid of walking home at night with them there, but you also hated it sometimes. You knew they just wanted you to be okay and not have to experience the same things they did, but it still sucked. Your parents stuck up for you when they could, but when you first moved out and stayed with Charles there wasn’t much they could do.

They had managed to scare off almost every guy you liked or started a relationship with, saying they were ‘too mean’ or ‘impolite’ or just little things like they didn’t like the way he dressed or how he talked. The longest you had been with a guy was two weeks before he got annoyed at your brothers and left. You ignored them for a week as you only went to school, your job, and hid in your room when you were home. And you bet the got a stern talking to from your parents ━━ especially your mom.

That was the longest you had been with someone . . . Until you met Max. You had heard , and knew of, Max Verstappen as him and your brother did karting together as kids and Charles joined Formula One only three years after, but you had never interacted.

The first time you met was in 2019. You had moved to Monaco for university and were living with Charles. Though Charles had invited you to races before, you always declined busy with school work or your job, where Charles would respond with something along the lines of ‘i don’t know why you have that job anyway’ which you would roll your eyes and flip him off. It was the Austrian Grand Prix that you finally agreed to go, one of the races that Max had won that year. You had gotten some time off from your job and you didn’t have too much work so you agreed.

When you arrived, you were a little overwhelmed so you mostly stayed in the Ferrari garage, talking to Charles and sometimes Sebastian, though they were pretty busy. The next couple days you didn’t have too much time to go out and explore, to worried about watching free practices and qualifying, and you didn’t even think about leaving during the race until it was over.

It wasn’t until the after party that you actually talked to him. You originally weren’t going to go, you were going to stay in and work on homework, until Charles begged you and you agreed . . . but only because he came second and you were proud of him. You were nineteen, so you were legal, but you were sure even if you weren’t you’d be allowed a few drinks, albeit with Charles hovering over you more than usual.

It was about twenty minutes into the party ━━ with you and Charles getting drinks and being introduced to other people ━━ when you got introduced to Max. “Max!” Charles had called over the thumping bass of the music. At first, the Dutch man didn’t hear until your brother yelled right into his ear. He turned around, surprised, before calling a ‘Charles!’ and congratulating him. He didn’t see you until he pulled away from the hug, turning to see you. “This is my sister! Y/n!” He told Max, again yelling. You loudly introduced yourself as you put your hand forward. “Max! You came to watch Charles karting when you were younger right?” You nodded. “I recognize you!”

Max eventually got pulled away by some people, you assumed technicians or mechanics as you don’t recognize them as drivers, and didn’t see each other for another hour. You had stepped outside for a minute, overwhelmed, though you made sure to tell Charles where you were going. When you had, he immediately became concerned but you waved him off, telling him you were okay and just needed some fresh air.

You were leaning against the wall of the building, bottle of water in your hand as you heard footsteps. You quickly turned your head, though calmed once you saw it was only Max. “Scare you?” He asked. You got to hear his voice clearer now, taking in his accent slipping out due to the alcohol. “Can never be too careful. Dangerous for women.” He nodded, but didn’t say anything for a little. As you were taking a sip of water, he started to speak. “First race?” You nodded, “yeah. I’ve watched, obviously, but I’ve just been too busy with school that I haven’t had the chance. It’s been a little overwhelming at times ━━ hence why I’m out here.”

“I get that. It was for me too.” You turned to look at him. “You were seventeen, right?” He looked surprised that you knew that. “Yeah . . . I was.” You could see in his eyes that remembering that was heavy. “That must’ve been hard.” You told him but didn’t plan on talking anymore about it. “It was, but that’s life.” You nodded. You offered him a sip of your water bottle, knowing he must be getting thirsty. He replied with a small ‘thank you’ before taking a sip. “Want to get out of here? I’m done for the night.” You raised your eyebrow, “wow. What a gentleman.” He must’ve realized what that sounded like before he started to sputter, apologizing and saying that’s not when he meant. He look confused when you started to laugh. “I know what you meant. But you are drunk and I don’t have a car.”

He lowered his eyebrows. “Right.” You pulled out your phone, getting ready to call a cab. “I’ll call you a cab and get you one while I tell Charles where I’m going.” “You’re coming with me?” You nodded, “yeah, I’m don’t for tonight too. I’ll help you to your room because you are not as sober as you think you are and then I’m heading back to my hotel.”

You went in, telling Max with a stern finger in his direction to ‘stay where he was’ while you went to grab a bottle of water and tell Charles where you were going. He didn’t approve, warning you to be careful and not fall for anything, but you assured him you were fine.

That night you helped him to his hotel and to his room, finding a bottle of water and aspirin that was in your purse to set on his beside table. While you were leaving, he grabbed your wrist. “Will you take up my offer? Dinner sometime?” You smiled at him. “Sure, but ask me again when you’re sober so you know what you are doing.” The next morning on the plane, you got a text from Max, letting you know he got your number from someone and that he still wanted to take you out for dinner. You agreed, setting a time and place.

That eventual dinner date led to now, almost five years into your relationship. Charles was a bit upset, but after a ‘talk’ with Max, he felt a little bit better about it, and he warmed up after awhile. Your brothers didn’t manage to scare him off. You had warned him, and talked with them about it, so that helped a little.

It was the 2024 Bahrain Grand Prix. You sat in the Ferrari garage talking with your brother and Carlos while also keeping track of your boyfriend during the free practice. You were sitting down in one of that chairs with the two men standing. You didn’t even notice something was happening until you felt something hit the back of your head. You let out a small ‘ouch’ while rubbing the back of your head. You tried not to make a scene, but the mechanic who had hit you let out a big ‘oh shit!’ which pulled everyone’s attention. I

Immediately your brother was on you making sure you were okay while Carlos went to chew out the mechanic. Through the pain in your head, and Charles calling for ice and a medical staff, you heard a mix of fast English and Spanish. It wasn’t until the ice was placed on your head that you started to refocus. “Est-ce que ça va (are you okay)?” You nodded, though regretted it immediately. “Ouais. Tout va bien (yeah. I’m fine).” Carlos eventually came over and pulled Charles away to let the doctor examine you. You told them you were fine and that Charles was exaggerating ━━ which they laughed at ━━ before checking you out anyway and clearing you.

Though you know better, you thought that Charles and Carlos would leave it, but you were wrong because later when you got back from the bathroom, you saw the two men talking to a very angry looking Max. When Max saw you, he left the boys and headed straight for you, using his hands to bend your head down and check the back of your head. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. “I feel like a monkey being inspected by another monkey.” He pulled your head back up so your eyes met his.

“Schatje.” “Max. I swear I’m fine, it was a mistake.” It was his turn to roll his eyes, “a mistake that shouldn’t happen.” You stars at him, unimpressed. “Max Emilian Verstappen if you do anything I’m not scratching your head tonight.” You told him as you walked away.

“Liefje! That’s not fair!”

[honey-pages]

Quick and Quiet - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Quick public sex in a spare room in the lab, possessive Viktor.

1.1k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. NSFW. Dom Viktor. Posessive. Dirty Talk. Creampie.

It was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, the lab and research centre full swing. You and Viktor had been overseeing some minor work that needed doing but nothing too pressing. It was a regular day, people busying past with arms loaded with paper work, inattentive to the growing sexual tension between the two of you. 

You knew that when you got back to his study, things would unfold. You decide to tease him, its only fair that he has to be just as frustrated as you are. You spot an empty room off to the side of one of the main corridors, and nudge him towards the door as you approach.

Viktor looks at you strangely, questioning what you are doing, before catching on.

He chuckles subtly, “Oh really?”

He pushes the door open with his hand and you both quickly step inside, closing it behind you and manoeuvring out of view. He pins you to the wall, his arms on either side of your head. He leans down to kiss you, moving backwards at the last second to make you kiss at the open air.

“Desperate” He mocks, this time allowing the kiss. 

“Maybe I just want you Vik” You smile up at him

“Right here?”

“Right here”

Viktor’s hand trails down the side of your body, feeling you, weighing up the consequences of getting caught. He stops over your waist, lowering to grope at your underwear through your clothes. He presses at your clit, applying just the right amount to have you reactively grinding at his hand.

“You want me to fuck you here, where anyone could hear us?”

You respond by pulling him back into a kiss. Viktor breaks it, turning you around and pinning your hips to a table. You were only just out of view of the door, too close.

“Quietly”, Viktor purred in your ear. 

“People will see Vik-“

“They’ll hear first”

You feel the length of him rest at the side of your thigh. He presses himself to the back of you. He holds one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the table he has you pressed against. 

“You say the words, and I stop. Though I can guarantee someone else will hear them first”

“Don’t stop-“

He muffles your mouth with his hand, having heard all he needed. He bends you at the waist, positioning you over the table. Viktor keeps his mouth at your neck, faintly whispering to you, almost inaudible, breathy.

“Keep quiet and take it.”

Viktor slides your trousers down your thighs, allowing them to pool around your knees. He works his fingers under the hem of your underwear, pulling them down. You feel exposed, realising your nakedness and proximity to the door. If someone would look through, you would not be hidden fully. It would be obvious at first sight. They would know exactly what you and Viktor were doing. 

He unzips and manages his trousers and underwear down to his mid thigh. There is a growing warmth as you feel his cock rest against you. He grinds it on you slowly, reminding you of the familiar length and feel. The heat of him in the cold room makes you more aware of the warmth of yourself and how when you shift your weight, you could feel the wetness slide between your thighs. 

“I didn’t realise you so publicly wanted to be my whore, (Y/N)”

You grind back, his cock pressing against you, a little higher and he may just push in. He lines himself up.

“So eager” He nibbles at your ear, the hand covering your mouth spreading to insert a finger between your lips and against your tongue. 

You swirl your tongue over the tip and he grinds forward, thrusting into you to the middle of his length. You moan against his palm.

There are footsteps from outside as people walk further down the corridor, it feels too good to care.

Viktor slowly thrusts in and out of you, though not deeply. You are completely aware of how deep he usually is, how he normally fills you. You groan in frustration, trying to push back, to make him fill you.

He stops moving, you feel his grin against your skin, his teeth against your neck

“If I knew it was this easy to take you, I would have done this years ago. All it takes is a little bit of danger, and listen to the sound you make”

Viktor pulls all the way out, and pushes all the way in, creating a wet slapping sound. You body is betraying you, dripping wetness down your thigh. Viktor removes his hand from your mouth and you make a silent promise to not give away your location. 

His hand replaces at the back of your neck and he pushes you gently down to the table, bent completely over it. He grips at your waist. His thrusts become more rhythmic, the sounds of the two of you become repetitive and he finds a comfortable pace. 

“You feel amazing, (Y/N). This is mine, you understand?”

“Yes, Vik-“ You respond, trying to keep a grip on your sound level.

He is speeding up, the noise must be audible to the outside. He is panting and whimpering, grabbing at the sides of you.

"Mine?”

“Yours”

“You belong-“ He starts, losing himself in the pleasure “-to me”

“Viktor-“

“Shh-“

You feel wetter than previously. The table was rough and sharp at your waist but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything, you looked around to the door window - no one was there. Would you really have cared if they were? If they watched the way Viktor fucked you?

Your hands are holding onto the far side of the table, fingers white from the force of his thrusts. He buries a hand in your hair, pulling back your neck, forcing your head upwards, tilting to watch him over your shoulder. 

“You’re mine.” He mumbles as he fucks hard and fast.

“They’ll hear-“ You try to protest, a blush rising.

“Then they’ll hear me cum in you” 

His hips are wild, he’s filling you deeply. He is slowing slightly, becoming more powerful in each swing. You feel him twitch and he begins to unravel.

“You’re-“ He manages, louder than he should have.

On his next thrust, you feel him filling you with thick cum, still grinding and pushing between spasms. He maintains his rhythm, coating the whole length of your insides, fucking it into you. 

“Im yours Viktor” You finish his sentence, barely able to string it together.

The footsteps return, closer, faster. 

You both look wide-eyed pulling up your clothes and fixing your appearances, damp with a sheen of sweat and a manic look. The gravity of what you just did has struck. Viktor is still catching his breath. You feel the mess he has made begin to seep into the fabric of your underwear. 

You both make a quick exit, red faced, heading straight for Viktor’s study.

Tag List - @veru-boom, @gubkkki, @hi-hope-hop-in, @gloriousevolutionz.

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2

In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.

Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts

Part 1 Master List

(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)

You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 

The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 

So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 

Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 

“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 

“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 

Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 

Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 

You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 

It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 

“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 

This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 

“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 

“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.

“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 

Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 

“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 

“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 

Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 

“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 

Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 

“Lead the way, Maxie.”  

yourpersonalinsta posted a story

story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?

The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.

Alone, thank you very much.

The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 

Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 

“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  

“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 

You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 

As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 

The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 

Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 

You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 

Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 

A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 

Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 

The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 

You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 

Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 

The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 

“I know but just humor me.” 

You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 

“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 

Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 

“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 

“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.

The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.

He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.

Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 

You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 

You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 

Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 

“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 

Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 

Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 

The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 

A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 

“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 

“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 

Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 

“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 

You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.

Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 

“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 

It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 

You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 

“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.

Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 

He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!

There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.

“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.

Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”

“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.

Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.

You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.

Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.

The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.

"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.

You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.

Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.

"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.

All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.

"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.

You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.

Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.

"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.

"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.

You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.

"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.

You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.

"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.

"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.

His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"

"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.

"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"

When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.

Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"

You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 

Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 

The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find your clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.

“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  

That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 

Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.

“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”

maxverstappen1 posted:

838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?

yourpersonalinsta posted

231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)

maxverstappen1 private stories

story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though

@shelbyteller @martygraciesversion381 @anilovessadbooks @formulaal @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[therealmylesmorales]

Don’t Take It Personal

Summary: you’re a little worried about how much time Vi is spending with her new friend

Part 2

Warnings: vi’s kind of a dumbass, ngl. Angst probably. R plays a sport for the plot (just vibe guys) loser!vi au

WC: 1.6k

Vi made a new friend.

That was a rare feat for her, seeing how out of the few people she considers a friend included you, her girlfriend, and Jinx, her sister.

She came home beaming after her usual workout at the gym. There was a new face she didn’t recognize and to Vi’s surprise, the friendly chat turned into a new friendship.

Her name was Caitlyn Kiramman. You knew her name, seeing the title “Kiramman” around a few buildings. Caitlyn was studying abroad for a few months, hence why Vi didn’t meet her until now. And yet, the new friendship was blossoming quickly. You didn’t mind, just happy that she managed to make more friends without you being present.

That was until Vi started hanging out with her more than you.

Srry, babe cant make it. At the gym wth Cait 💪🏻

11:23am

You frowned a bit at the recent text Vi sent you. You were at the library waiting for her for your weekly study date but when she was almost half an hour late you finally texted her. Only for your girlfriend to take a raincheck. Again.

Seeing how Vi wasn’t showing up, you still decided to stay for at least another hour; work still needed to be done with or without her. When you did decide to leave, you had to pass by the gym in order to go home. You figured Vi was still inside so you didn’t bother to linger until you heard a familiar voice.

”I’ll see you around, cupcake!”

Cupcake?

You turned to see Vi and Caitlyn leaving the large building. Vi immediately saw you and rushed over to you. Caitlyn gave you a polite wave before going her own way.

She was calling her ‘cupcake.’ You felt a little irritated at the—at your— nickname Vi called Caitlyn. Granted, ‘cupcake’ wasn’t one that was used very often, only when Vi was teasing or being purposely irritating to you. But still. It was your name.

Pushing the negative feelings aside you greeted Vi with a kiss. She smiled into it then pulled you into a tight hug, her arms almost crushing you.

”You stick, Vi,” you muttered into her neck.

A soft laugh escaped her. “You enjoy it. What are you doing here?”

”Going home. Then I saw you and…cupcake.”

”Don’t be like that,” Vi groaned, trying to play it off. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Never said you did.” You tried to change the subject, not wanting to make it a big deal. “Are you going to my game Friday or are you going to be too busy with Caitlyn. It’s the last one of the season, Vi.”

“Hey, have I ever missed a game before?” She asked rhetorically. ”But if it makes you feel better, I promise that I’ll be there.”

”Good.”

Vi then wrapped her arm around you, putting you in an almost headlock, and started walking in the direction of the same apartment. “Let’s go. I’m exhausted.”

While what Vi said did ease some of you worrying, it didn’t stay for long. For the rest of the week, Vi was still with Caitlyn. Even though you attended most of the same classes, and stayed in the same home, you only saw her in passing or for only an hour at night. And every word that came out of her mouth was about the other girl.

“I really think you’ll like Cait, she reminds me of you.”

“Caitlyn squatted 210 today! She’s catching up to me.”

”I’m sorry, baby. Cait and I made plans to see that movie. You can still come!” You hate to admit it but that comment made you pissed off more than anything.

Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn. You haven’t even properly met the girl yet it seemed like you knew everything about her.

When Friday finally came, you just hoped Vi would pay more attention to you rather than her friend. Unfortunately, you were proven wrong.

Hey, pretty, the game is starting soon. Are you still coming?

6:37pm

Yoooo Viiii??

7:01pm

Violet, dude, where are you??

7:15pm

Your leg tapped nervously against the ground, scanning the crowd for the familiar pink haired girl, but you came up dry. In the crowd you could see Jayce, Viktor and Mel who all gave you encouraging smiles. Even Jinx showed up, sitting next to Ekko. She gave you a small shrug at your questioning glance before turning back to your phone, possibly texting her sister.

The coach got your attention, urging you to join your teammates on the court. And with a heavy, disappointed sigh, you got up from the bench. You couldn’t focus on Vi anymore, but you still hoped that she would show up sometime during the game. She did promise after all.

But throughout the game, that familiar full head of pink hair was nowhere to be seen. There was an empty spot next to Jinx that was never filled. Trying to ignore the wide open space was almost impossible, but the game was won without Vi cheering for you. Sure, the ball did slip from your hands more times than you’d like to admit, but your team won.

Your friends that did decide to show up wanted to take you out for the rest of the night, a congratulatory dinner, but you weren’t feeling it. And while Jinx doesn’t like saying the word no, she surprisingly let you go home after you refused. You really just wanted to see if or when Vi would be home.

It was nearing nine at night and Vi still hadn’t called you and your recent text went unanswered. The TV was playing a show, mostly used as background noise as your thoughts took over you.

Almost thirty minutes later, you could hear some noise coming from the hallway.

The door to the apartment opened and you could hear Vi humming a song to herself when she locked up for the night. From your spot on the couch, you saw nothing wrong with her so you were glad to know she was safe. But now she had to dig herself out of the hole she dug.

Vi actually seemed surprised to see you but the smile she gave you was instant. “Oh, hey, babe. Why are you still up?”

”Waiting for you,” you shot back, moving to get closer to her. “It’s been hours Vi, we all have been calling and texting you—“

Vi showed you her phone, a black screen staring back at you. “It died a while ago. What’s with the third degree?”

”Do you remember what day it is?”

”Um…the tenth?”

”Um, maybe it’s the day of my game that you’d promise to come to,” you mocked. Yeah, you were being petty but you thought she deserved it.

Vi muttered a small curse to herself and she looked genuinely apologetic. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I swear, I was going to come but then my phone died, and-and I was with Caitlyn and—“

A heavy sigh escaped you at the name. “Caitlyn, right yeah. That makes sense.”

A look came on Vi’s face, one you knew too well when she was about to become argumentative. “What are you talking about?”

”You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Vi,” you pointed out. “I’ve noticed it— we all have. You’re always with her.”

”We’re friends!”

”You’re friends with Jayce but when’s the last time you’ve hung out with him since meeting Caitlyn? Is she too rich for chargers so you couldn’t check your phone for five minutes?”

Vi scoffed at you. “What, you want me to stop hanging out with Caitlyn just because you’re jealous?”

”I have nothing to be jealous of, Violet!” You yelled. “Cait’s a friend, I get that. But you have been blowing me off time and time again for her. And the one time I actually needed you, you were with her instead. How the hell do you expect me to feel?”

A short pause came from Violet. And what she said next, set your skin aflame.

”I just think you’re overreacting. It’s a fucking game, I’ll just watch the next one.”

“Okay, you know what,” you paused, running your hands over your face; it didn’t do much to calm your heated nerves. “I’m not doing this with you, right now, Vi.”

Vi’s tense posture immediately changed at the tone of your voice; it was shaky, as if you were holding back tears. You almost never cried, at least in front of her, so the new sight was worrisome. She heard you breath in harshly before continuing.

“I’m way too upset at you right now to even finish this conversation,” you said quietly to her. “I’m tired…and honestly just want some space from you.”

Vi swore her heart stopped at those words. Space? “You…Y/N, you can’t be serious.” Space was the main thing Vi hated. It meant you leaving her.

”I am, actually.” Your back was turned from her at that point so you couldn’t see her face fall in disbelief at the sight of you getting ready to leave the apartment.

She knew you made up your mind and were done hearing her but Vi still had to try. “Babe, don’t go. You’re right, is that what you want to hear? I’m sorry, alright?”

”Glad you came to your senses,” you muttered, albeit bitterly.

Vi was desperate at this point. “You don’t have to leave! I can sleep out here!”

”When I said ‘space’, Vi, I meant completely,” you said. Your voice was starting to get tense, a tell that you were getting annoyed. “My parents live a few minutes away, remember? I'll be fine.”

”Y/N please, just—“

“Vi! I’ll…talk to you eventually,” was the last thing you said before the door closed behind you.

[shrimpybbq]

season 4 pt1 with rafe, high school gf and their son!

rafe and high school gf who spread his dad’s ashes together. they’re on rafe’s boat together as he spreads the ashes, her arms wrapped around his waist comfortingly. he wouldn’t want anyone else to be with him for this moment

rafe is pretty content with hiring a babysitter to look after the kids when he wants to spend some time alone with his girl, and when he decides to compete at the enduro, he deems the day kid-free. no one would think the couple had two kids and a house together as they stood together on the beach, her hands brushing tenderly against the nape of rafe’s neck as he sat on his bike.

“You’ve got this baby, you know that? It’ll be a piece of cake,” she said, her voice quiet. This was a moment between the two of them, and no one else needed to hear. Rafe still disliked sharing intimate moments in public brazenly, but he still needed reassurance and love.

He nodded, bringing her closer to him as he placed a quick kiss against her lips. “I’m gonna win this for you, baby.”

rafe absolutely adores when he gets to bring his smokin’ hot wife out with him to the events on figure 8. he loves to let his girl get dressed up and all pretty (for him), knowing she sometimes felt frumpy after looking after their kids all day. they’re at the club when rafe starts yelling at a random girl, enraged by her comment about his dad. his wife now having to drag him away with the help of topper, her hands soothing over his chest to try and distract him. it had been really hard for him since his dad died, and he swore he’d only survived bc of his wife and kids.

the couple are at the club they frequent together when hollis speaks to rafe, who after their conversation was no longer paying attention to the older woman, instead focusing on the girl he suddenly tucked under his arm

“And who is this?”

“This is my wife,” Rafe said with a smirk, his arm wrapping around his girls shoulders, placing a quick kiss to the top of her head. At that, the older woman’s smile dropped minutely, quickly excusing herself.

“Who was she, baby?” His wife asked, watching as Rafe turned the business card over in his hand.

“Uhh.. the biggest realtor/cougar on the island.”

“Oh ok, sounds like just your type, huh?”

“Baby, nonono, why would I want a cougar when I have the hottest milf standing in front of me?”

Rafe shielded himself from her playful swats as she came closer, his arms wrapping around his wife’s frame easily and lifting her off the ground.

“Come on baby, you know you’re the only one I want.”

rafe talks about his business deals with his wife often, her lounging on the pool chair as he vents his frustrations. he felt she was the only person he could tell everything to, and she would provide him with advice and solutions that actually helped, not just telling him what he wanted to hear

their son is resting on the other pool chair, exhausted after playing in the pool for hours with his mother and father, whilst their daughter rested on her mother’s chest, sleeping after being fed

rafe feels all of his frustrations slip away when he’s with his children - their innocence and happiness making him feel much lighter

girl dad rafe! he loves charlie but there’s something about his little girl who looks so much like her mother, who adores him and always outstretches her chubby little fingers towards him, that makes rafe’s heart melt

he spoils his little girl more than he should, buying her all the little dresses and shoes and accessories a baby could ever need

rafe who asks his wife to teach him to braid so he can practice for when she’s older!!!!!

girl dad rafe training charlie to be protective over his sister and make sure he’s always by her side

rafe had been addicted to coke, and while he’d managed to give it up, he had replaced the coke with alcohol. high school gf notices and does her best to reduce his intake, but truthfully, after seeing how difficult is was for rafe to stop the coke, she knew that this was probably the best she would get for a while. still, he doesn’t escape without a raised eyebrow when he goes to get another drink from the fridge

topper who knows never to talk bad about rafe’s girl - EVER. he made that mistake once and lived to regret it, having to lie to his parents that he fell from his bike. topper actually likes her now, and he gave himself the title of uncle topper to the cameron kids

as a husband, rafe is so handsy in public. he doesn’t care what people think about him anymore, so he lets himself squeeze and touch as much as he wants

beach time bby! i feel like honestly, rafe doesn’t like bringing his kids around the drunken kooks. they’re rowdy and rude, and rafe is trying to be better

so instead, he loves to take the family down to their private stretch of beach adjacent to the house, and relax and play with the kids. it’s so peaceful to him, and he truly feels content with his life in those moments. he’s got his hot as shit wife in a little bikini with their daughter tucked in her side, and little charlie is climbing all over rafe as he tries to get his father to throw him in the water again

oh he 100% helps his wife pick out her bikini that day, tying the tie for her, his hands roaming a little too much as she giggles in front of him

she had told him once that she felt insecure after having their children, her body a little different than it used to be. truth be told, rafe loved it. every time he looked at her body naked, fucked her or held her in his arms, he was reminded that she brought their children into the world. she gave him purpose and love

(he also likes that her tits are bigger from breastfeeding and loves to squeeze them whenever he can)

rafe is such a good dad bc he puts everything he has into being there for his children. they’re his entire world and everyone can see it

still, he needs frequent reassurance that he is nothing like the father his dad was, instead, he cares and nurtures his children

rafe discusses his plans to make amends with sarah with his wife, and she gives him strategies to try and talk to her (not that he tends to take them), but she also misses sarah

charlie who still asks for his aunty every now and then, making his mothers heart break. sarah hasn’t even met their daughter yet :(

when he makes the decision to do the deal with hollis, he does it for his family. he wants to look after them, and this deal would do that for them.

but when she hits on him, sensually touching his hand, he makes his priorities clear to the woman as he scoffs, pulling away from her

“I’m married…. And you know that - you even met her. I’m doing this deal for her, and for our family, so….”

rafe has problems but that man is so loyal, he actually couldn’t ever imagine wanting anyone else. he fought so hard and went through so much to keep his high school gf by his side and now he feels that she is the only person in the world who understands him fully. in his mind, it’s them against the world

click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

[lushrue]

dinner party (nsfw)

ghoap x fem!reader

cw: oral (m and f receiving), dubcon (sort of?), voyeurism, dom ghost

it was supposed to be a normal dinner party.

by all accounts, it had been up to this point. it wasn’t unusual for your husband to invite the men he worked with over for dinner, especially johnny. the man lives alone, he’d said, least I can do is give ‘em a nice home-cooked meal every once in a while. you always pulled out the stops, cooking something bordering on gourmet that the mess halls couldn’t even hope to replicate. tonight, it had been grilled salmon with wild rice and roasted asparagus.

conversation over dinner was normal, aided by the wine and whiskey loosening everyone’s lips. you’re far more sociable than simon is, but that doesn't take much, so the alcohol kept the words flowing freely. it wasn’t until after dinner that things started to shift.

the three of you settled in the living room with your respective spirits, wrapping up the night with friendly conversation over light dessert. you moved to your usual spot in the armchair beside the bookshelf, but the sound of simon clicking his tongue at you stopped you in your tracks. he was sat in his own chair nearest the sofa, legs spread like a king on his throne. you couldn’t quite keep your eyes from wandering, admiring the way his jeans clung to his thighs. he met your gaze, the corner of his lips quirked up in a mischievous smirk. he patted his thigh and you felt embarrassment burn your cheeks.

you glanced over to johnny, as if to remind simon that you had company, but he didn’t seem to care. his dark eyes stayed fixed on you, silence falling over the room as johnny’s gaze followed his lieutenant’s. simon cocked his head, a gesture that you recognized as obey or else. you didn’t feel like testing the waters tonight, so you padded over to him, perching yourself on his thigh.

your husband’s arm snaked around your waist as you swirled your wine in your glass, staring at the whirlpool it created to distract you from the way johnny was eyeing you. simon had pulled you onto his lap for a reason, and part of you wondered if it wasn’t entirely selfish motivation that had you positioned here. simon’s hand stroked over the crushed velvet of the dress he’d insisted you wear, sliding down to grip your ass occasionally when you got too fidgety.

conversation gradually turned to their work, so you tuned them out. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested; most of it just flew over your head. it gave you time to focus on the way your husband was feeling you up. his hand never stayed in one place too long, sliding from your shoulder to your spine to the nape of your neck and down. it made shivers run down your spine, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs the longer it continued. despite your squirming, you managed to stay ladylike, a metaphorical aspirin between your knees as the two men talked.

“so, how’s y’r sex life?” simon asked, which snapped you back to attention. johnny seemed just as bewildered as you did at the question, his cheeks flushed scarlet beneath the stubble. you nudged simon’s shoulder, shaking your head at him. “simon, that’s not polite,” you said, but he didn’t pay you any mind. he was too busy watching johnny fluster and scramble to find his words. “l.t., I-” he started, but simon held up a hand to stop him. “nah, don’ play dumb with me, lad. heard ya jus’ the other day in the rec room. talkin’ about how ya haven’t had a good shag in months, somethin’ like tha’.”

you were just as embarrassed as johnny was now. you knew simon wasn’t the most tactful of men, but this was a whole other level. johnny stuttered around his words, trying to find some kind of reply that was appropriate for the situation. nothing would be appropriate for this situation, you thought. simon just chuckled, his hand rubbing the plush cheek of your ass. “look how flustered ‘e is, lovie,” he said to you, finally giving you his full attention. “poor man, doesn’ have a good bird like I do. no one to cook ‘im a nice dinner and keep ‘is cock wet.”

as flustered as you were, the words sent a jolt straight to your core. taking care of your husband was a sense of pride for you. you got a primal satisfaction out of sinking to your knees and sucking him dry after he’d had a hard day. it meant the world to you when his shoulders sagged and released the burden that he’d been carrying, all at your hands. you shifted on his lap, pressing your thighs together to get some relieving friction.

simon looked back at johnny, who seemed just as affected. he had his hands clasped over his lap, his gaze cast down at the throw rug like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “ya wanna know wha’ it’s like, sergeant?” simon asked, his voice dropping into a register only you got to hear. “wanna feel my sweet, pretty dove wrapped aroun’ ya?” johnny jolted like he’d been shocked with a prod, wide blue eyes looking up at his commanding officer. there was bewilderment there, you noticed. clearly, he hadn’t been expecting this. but behind the surprise, there was something more carnal. he looked hungry, like a mutt begging for scraps from the table.

your husband placed a firm hand on your back, taking the wine glass from your hands and coaxing you to stand. “g’won, lovie. on your knees for our bashful lad, hmm?” simon’s choice of words struck you. our. this was for both of you, not just simon. the two of you had discussed the idea of a threesome once, but it felt like a pipe dream then. you’d expressed interest, never really expecting simon to share but confessing your fantasy all the same. and now, here it was. Happening.

you did as you were told, kneeling in front of the sofa where johnny was. from this angle, you could see how harshly his chest was rising and falling, his breath quick and uncertain. it brought you a strange sense of satisfaction that you could fluster a special ops soldier so easily. you sat there expectantly, but johnny didn’t move. he just stared at you, almost the same way he’d stared at his dinner plate before digging in. his eyes traced the contours of your body, over your shoulders and down to your full chest, over your breasts and down to the plush of your stomach and thighs where they pressed against your dress.

“starin’ won’ make ‘er cum, johnny,” simon quipped. you drew in a sharp breath, glancing back over your shoulder at your husband. he clicked his tongue again, motioning back towards johnny. “ah-ah, keep your eyes on ‘im, precious. he needs y’r attention more’n I do.” you looked back up at johnny dutifully, your lips parting slightly as you waited for him to do something, anything. the fabric of the rug was biting into your knees, making you a tad uncomfortable. “she’s yer wife, simon, I cannae jus’-” “you can an’ you will,” simon interrupted. “the only way she gets any pleasure tonigh’ is by your hand, an’ I don’t let my wife go to bed unsatisfied.” you let out a whine at that, the stakes so much higher now that you knew the terms. johnny just had to touch you.

“steamin’ jesus,” the Scot cursed under his breath, your whine sending a spark of pleasure between his legs. he’d never heard a woman make that sound before, especially not at the prospect of being pleased by him. “i can touch ‘er?” he asked, but he didn’t look at simon for an answer. his stare was more intense, sizing you up, deciding which piece of you would be most juicy to sink his teeth into. simon hummed in amusement. “unless y’r bloody telekinetic, s’pose ya have to, don’ ya?” simon responded, shifting in his chair. you heard the zipper of his jeans go down and it was almost painful that you couldn’t look at him.

johnny reached forward, taking your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he stroked his thumb along your jaw, shuddering on his exhale. “y’r so soft,” he breathed out, marvelling at the beauty of you on your knees. you lean your head into his touch, following the pulls and pushes of his hand as he inspects you. “such a bonnie bird,” he cooed, spreading his legs and pulling you in closer to him. you shuffle forward, settling yourself more squarely between his knees.

“simon says ya suck cock like a dream. is he righ’?” johnny asked. you nod, leaning forward to mouth at his crotch through his jeans. you could feel how hard he was already from barely having touched you. instead of focusing on the fact that simon was going around blabbing about your blowjob skills, you chose to take in as much of johnny’s musk as you could through his pants. you couldn’t quite smell him, but there was the barest hint of his body wash peeking through.

simon had started stroking himself to the sight of both of you, the wet shlick reaching your ears and emboldening you. knowing that your husband was enjoying this ignited a fire that started in your core and spread through your veins. johnny got the same motivation, locking eyes with simon for only a moment before shoving his jeans and boxers down. you gasp at the suddenness of it, placing your hands on his bare thighs to steady yourself. before you can fully get your bearings, johnny grabs the back of your head and shoves you down.

he’s not as long as simon, but he’s certainly thicker. he fills your mouth almost instantly, your cheeks aching a little with the stretch. you and johnny moan in unison, your eyes fluttering shut as johnny’s hand balls up in your hair. simon chuckles behind you, his hand tightening around himself. “tha’s it, lad. fuck ‘er mouth good, she likes it a bit rough.”

johnny’s hips start thrusting, the ruddy tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. tears bead up in the corners of your eyes, whimpers and moans giving johnny some vibration as he fucks your throat. you applauded yourself for the decision not to wear mascara; cleaning the tears and spit from your face would be difficult enough. saliva dribbled down johnny’s length, wetting your lips as you hollowed your cheeks. the salt of him coated your tongue, precum leaking down your throat. above you, johnny was grunting and groaning like a rutting bull, thrusting into your mouth with abandon. “how’s my girl feel, johnny?” simon asked, his voice sounding strained. hearing just how affected they both were had your pussy dripping with arousal. “fuck, si, she’s…ah, so warm. fuckin’ milkin’ me.”

your tongue traced the protruding vein on the underside of johnny’s cock, delighting in the shudder you earned from him. it didn’t take long after that for him to finish down your throat. you swallowed every drop, taking in everything he offered. he was more bitter than simon, but you enjoyed it all the same. you pulled your mouth off of johnny’s cock with a wet pop, peeking up at him with heavy lidded eyes. the man you saw was not the man who’d sat across from you at dinner. he looked downright feral, grabbing you like a man possessed. he pulled you up from the floor, laying you out on the sofa and tugging your underwear down.

before johnny tossed them away, he held them to his nose, drinking in the smell of you. he groaned, balling the fabric up in his fists. “y’r bird smells like heav’n, l.t.,” he rasped, dropping the panties and fixing his wild gaze back on you. “bet she tastes even better.” without any further warning, he dipped his head between your thighs, thick tongue lapping up the moisture from your cunt. you squealed in surprise, throwing your head back against the cushions. simon bit back a curse behind his hand, watching his best friend devour his wife like his last meal. the mere thought was enough to make him spill all over his hand and stomach, his release silent so as not to distract johnny.

you didn’t think anything could. your thighs clamped around his head to keep him in place, but it was hardly necessary. even the rapture couldn’t pull him away from your pussy and the nectar that dripped from it. as much as you enjoyed the feeling, johnny wasn’t as coordinated as simon was. his tongue was wild, moving for his pleasure rather than yours. 

you twitched and moaned when he would happen to graze your clit, hoping that he’d get the hint, but he never did. there was no technique, no purpose. johnny came up for air, hazy eyes meeting yours. he was pussy-drunk, your juices shining on his lips and chin. he nosed at the inside of your plush thigh, sinking his teeth into the fat there. it stung and your back arched, reaching down to push his head away. the sting wasn’t pleasurable, not compared to his tongue against your cunt.

the moment simon caught the resistance from you, he was on his feet, yanking johnny back by his mohawk. the Scot gasped, back arching as simon held his hair tight in his fist. “easy, mutt,” simon growled in johnny’s ear, pushing his head down to look at you. “tha’s my girl, and y’r gonna treat ‘er with the respect she deserves. not some blushin’ virgin tha’s never had a woman, are ya?” johnny huffed, taking the question as an insult to his manhood. “‘course not,” he said, voice tense and strained. simon shook johnny’s head, then released his hair. “didn’ think so. remember y’r place, treat ‘er right.”

the scolding from simon had leveled johnny, forced him to slow down and think with his brain and not his cock. you twitched and whined as he paid more attention to your aching clit, swollen and puffy with desire. your hips bucked against your will, pressing against johnny’s tongue harder. 

finally, his tongue pushed inside you, caressing your walls. you clenched around him, tension building in your lower stomach. “don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, chest heaving. simon appeared at your side, stroking your hair. his gaze was soft, admiring, a welcome contrast to johnny’s. “cum on his tongue, love. he’s been waitin’ for it, not gonna stop ‘til he gets it.” those words were all it took to push you over the edge, shuddering and whining as johnny licked you through your orgasm.

you felt floaty after, the pleasure of having your husband’s best friend eat you out while your husband watched going straight to your head. there were cooed praises and kisses to your cheeks, but you weren’t entirely sure who they came from. hushed words were exchanged at your feet, then johnny was zipping himself up and kissing you goodbye. simon wrapped you in your favorite fuzzy blanket, the gentle sway of his gait soothing you as he carried you to the bedroom. once he’d laid you on the bed, he started to leave, but your soft hum and hand on his arm stopped him. “si? can we do that again?” you asked, voice soft and wrecked.

simon just chuckled, brushing your hair away from your face. “don’ you worry, lovie. he’s comin’ back for dinner next week.”

[tinyluvs]

imagine dating spencer and you come to visit or something and make him so distracted that he literally can’t info dump on something and the rest of the team is just shocked

yes yes, a hundred times yes 🤭 thank you so much!

catching a glimpse of yourself in the elevator mirror was the last thing you needed right now. you were covered in paint, your dungarees showing up every coloured streak and hand print against the light denim. you're sure there's paint in your hair but you don't have time to dwell on it, you're late

you'd got stressed, painting your boyfriends apartment on your own, lost track of time and then didn't have the time to change before running out of the apartment, just about managing to remember to grab yours and spencer's lunch on the way

"i'm so sorry i'm late," you sigh and frown as you rush through the bullpen to the collection of desks you're oh so familiar with, "please excuse the state of me,"

spencer turns at the sound of your voice, "hi sweetheart," he hums, looking up at you just as you dip to kiss him quickly before pushing the bag of food onto his lap

"hey," you smile softly at your boyfriend before turning to his colleagues, "hey guys, how are we all?" you ask, getting a mixed bunch of replies back

"how's painting?" derek laughs, looking at your appearance and the state of your clothes

you slide onto spencer's desk, pulling your legs up to sit cross legged, "standing six feet up a ladder trying to hold a tray of paint and a brush is hard, i've nearly fallen off twice," you huff,

spencer hands you the sandwich he knows is yours and then seemingly looks at you properly for the first time since you've been there, "hey," he says, almost breathlessly

"hello?" you question, head tilting slightly, "you've already said hi," you say, looking at emily and jj who just snicker and shrug their shoulders but spencer doesn't reply, "oh before i forget!"

your boyfriend watches you carefully as you produce a piece of paper from the tiny pocket on the front of your dungarees, flapping it around to unfold it, your other hand busy clutching your food

"the living room is next, i need to know how much paint to buy," you explain, handing the paper to him, "the cans are one litre or five litres, i can't figure it out"

truth be told you hadn't bothered to try and work it out, knowing spencer would be able to reel off the answer like it's nothing, naturally, he knew the exact measurements of every wall in his house

the boy stares up at you blankly, big brown eyes soft and sparkly. your cheeks heat up under his gaze, your eyebrows raising slightly, "spence?" you nudge him with your knee

he jumps ever so slightly, his head shaking a bit, "hmm?" he asks before only just registering you've handed him something, his eyes scan over it, "oh!" he blushes, turning his chair to face his desk

"what colour are you doing the living room?" jj asks while she stabs at her salad like it's offending her. you'd consulted the girls with all of the decorating developments.

"a light brown i think, we have so much to hang on the walls," you pause to swallow, "so something neutral," you finish with a slight nod

a door opening to your side grabs your attention, aaron coming out of his office with his lunch. he comes down into the bullpen, sitting on the edge of emily's desk, "the paint fighting back?" he asks you, slight smile creeping over his face

you roll your eyes at him, playfully, while the other laugh at your expense, "very funny but i don't see any of you offering to help"

penelope scoffs, "actually, i did" and she was right, however her idea of getting wine drunk and decorating had been quickly shut down by spencer, the only input he's actually offered up in the whole process

giggling, you turn back to your boyfriend who's been far too quiet, "boy wonder?" you say gently, pushing your fingers through his hair, "got an answer for me?"

usually he would have an answer within seconds, his minutes of silence making you frown, he turns to you with the same frown painted across his face, "i don't know," he says

people around you gasp, loudly too, "what do you mean, you don't know?" emily almost chokes on her lunch, sitting forward to gawp at the boy

"i do not know how much paint we need" he confirms

derek scrambles, pulling his phone out of his pocket, "say it again, i need record of this moment" he pleads while garcia smacks him

"well there's a first," david says, wandering over after hearing spencer say i don't know for possibly the first time, ever

your boy stares at the paper in his hand and then up at you, confused, "i have to go and work it out, excuse me" he says, rushed, as he stands and takes off towards circle table room

after a moment of shocked silence you turn to the team who are all staring directly at you, "i'll go check on him, i wonder what's wrong?" you say to no one in particular as you hop off of the desk

"i think i know," jj sing songs and the others hum in agreement as you hop up the stairs and along the walkway into the room.

when you get into the room spencer is stood in front of the biggest whiteboard you've possibly ever seen, marker in hand though the board is still empty of his handwriting

"spence? angel?" you say quietly, staring at his back as he starts to write the measurements of the walls in his living room, "everything alright?"

he hums, not turning to look at you as he continues to work through the problem, "yeah, fine, just can't think properly when you're around," he admits, "not when you look like that," he turns slightly to look at you

"oh, do you want me to leave?" you're sad, its obvious in your voice. nervously you start fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt

your boyfriend gasps, "no, no, honey that's not what i meant!" he says, holding his arm out. you slide into the space, head resting on his shoulder, "you're so beautiful and i love you so much, so so much, my brain just switches off when you’re around"

"really?" you giggle, looking up at him. he hums and nods his head, a light blush rushes up his neck before taking over his cheeks, "i love you too,"

he's taller than you, forcing you onto your tip toes to kiss him, not caring when someone, emily, whoops from the bullpen. gentle hands squeeze at your waist, while you hold his face with one hand, the other resting on his shoulder

"three litres," spencer mumbles against your mouth, you pull away with a sight hum, forgetting what you'd asked of him, "you need three but it's cheaper to just buy five and have left over, now come back" he huffs, his arm wrapping tighter around you to pull you back in for another kiss

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[alisonsfics]

risk it all for you

pairing: tyler owens x reader

summary: you and tyler have liked each other since high school. but you both may have waited too long to tell each other, which leads to a pretty nasty fight between the two of you. that’s when a storm comes.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: ended up being so much longer than i thought it would, but had a blast writing for everyone’s favorite tornado cowboy

The comforting scent of burning wood filled your lungs as you sat by the campfire. You didn’t even notice the smile that was glued to your face as you looked around.

The recent storms had brought in all kinds of visitors, hoping to witness a tornado up close and personal. It was the end of a busy day, and all the chasers were camping out in the parking lot of the motel they were staying at.

Tyler, your best friend since high school, had invited you to the bonfire. Tyler had always been the adrenaline junkie, not you. Chasing tornadoes was his thing, and you were glad to let him have it all to himself.

You were currently sitting in the back of Tyler’s truck waiting for him to bring you back a beer.

“So, you’re telling me you and Tyler have never gone for a ride?” One of Tyler’s friends continued to pester you. You quickly shook your head. You couldn’t bear the thought of risking your life like that. “Never, you all can keep your tornadoes. I am happy staying at home and hearing the stories.” You replied.

“Nobody said I was talking about tornadoes.” He retorted. The whole group erupted into laughter. Your cheeks heated up at the implication. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about it. You definitely had.

You heard a few rogue whistles. “Alright, that’s enough.” You heard a low voice say beside you. You turned to look over your shoulder and saw Tyler with two beers in hand.

“Here you go, sweetheart. Don’t let ‘em bother you too much.” He said, handing the bottle over to you. He jumped up to sit next to you on the tailgate. Even after being friends for years, you still sometimes got butterflies when you hung out with him.

“I mean, you can’t blame them. It’s a complete mystery how we’ve managed to stay just friends. I mean, you are just so hot and irresistible. I don’t know how any girl could stay friends with the infamous Tyler Owens.” You sarcastically teased him.

He nearly spit out his beer as he laughed at your joke. Whenever Tyler laughed at your jokes, it was like a little ego boost.

Many people had prodded over the years and asked you and Tyler why you never dated. Every time you gave a sarcastic response to the questions, Tyler fell a little harder for you.

Tyler leaned against you, clinking his bottle against yours. His arm pressed up against yours. Heat radiated off his skin. You hadn’t realized how cold you were. Tyler noticed too.

“Oh hang on, here take this,” he said, grabbing a blanket from behind him. He carefully wrapped it around your shoulders, so it would keep you warm.

You could smell his cologne on the blanket. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend you were wrapped up in his arms.

“So, Tyler, if you two aren’t together, are you seeing anybody else?” One of the girls sat around the fire asked Tyler. You instantly felt your stomach drop. You’d watched girls flirt with Tyler for years, but it never got easier. You faked a smile, but inside, you had a pit in your stomach.

“Why you wanna know? You want me all to yourself?” Tyler jokingly flirted back.

It was no secret that Tyler was a flirt. It never meant anything more to him. It was always just a flirty comment. But you still got jealous. You knew you and Tyler couldn’t have any kind of flirtatious relationship.

The girl pretended to fan herself and blew a kiss towards Tyler. Everyone was laughing at the silly exchange. You just couldn’t do it.

You set down the blanket and hopped down off the tailgate. “I gotta get something out of my car.” You lied, since everyone’s eyes were glued on you. Jealousy was written all over your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

They all went back to their conversations as you walked away. You wiped away the tear that was rolling down your cheek.

You heard a heavy pair of footsteps behind you. “Wait up. Where ya goin’?” He asked. You both knew you weren’t just “getting something out of your car.”

“Anywhere but here, Tyler,” you said. You continued walking and refused to look back at Tyler. You knew if you looked at him, you’d melt and lose the courage to leave. Tyler could convince you to do anything, and all it took was the twinkle in his eye.

You reached out to open your car door. Tyler smacked his hand against the door, pushing it closed. The loud slam caused you both to jump. It hadn’t been so aggressive in his head.

He mumbled a quick “sorry” and then squeezed himself between you and the car, his back pressed up against the car door.

You focused your eyes on the ground. You refused to look him in the eye.

“What’s goin’ on? Are you mad at me?” He asked you. You rolled your eyes and huffed. He waited for you to answer as you stubbornly crossed your arms. “I’m not mad at you, Ty. I just want to leave.” You said, with your eyes still glued to the ground.

He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You bit your tongue, trying to remain assured. Tyler had to resist the urge to laugh at how much effort it was taking you to keep a serious face.

“Really? Cause it looks like you’re mad at me. In fact, it looks like you’re a little jealous.” He said, smirking down at you. He moved his hand from your chin to brush a piece of hair behind your ear.

You pushed him off of you and took a step back. “Oh, really? Is it that obvious?” You said, hitting his arm. He cocked his head to the side. He was expecting you to deny it, and he was a little shocked when you didn’t.

“So, you are feelin’ a little jealous? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He said, taking a small step towards you. He was wearing the same cocky smile that he always had plastered on his face.

“Do you know how hard it is to see you flirt with every girl you meet?” You asked. He furrowed his brow as he tried to figure out why you were so frustrated. To him, it seemed like there was a very simple solution.

He let his hand rest on your waist, softly toying with the fabric of your shirt. “Well, sweetheart, if you wanted me, you could have just told me. I’m right here for you to take.” He told you, genuinely. Hearing those words come out of his mouth made your stomach do flips.

“It’s different with me and you. We can’t flirt the way you do with those girls.” You told him. You could feel yourself starting to give into his touch, as you leaned in closer to him. “I see no reason why we can’t, sweetheart.” He said, looping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

You could feel your heart pounding. You had to remind yourself to breathe. His cologne was enveloping all your senses. Your eyes were stuck on his.

“Cause with them, it’s casual. But we’ve been friends for years, so it could never be casual. It would have to be all or nothing. It would have to be this serious thing, or we’d risk our entire friendship.” You told him, your voice coming out as a whisper. He ran his fingers through your hair. He couldn’t help but admire you under the moonlight.

“I never claimed to want something casual with you, sweetheart.” He told you. You could feel goosebumps spread down your arms as he looked at you like you were his everything.

You had to pull yourself out of it. You were getting dragged in. “We can’t be together, Tyler.” You said, pulling yourself out of his grasp. You noticed his slight frown as you slipped out of his arms.

“Why not? I think we both know we’d be great together.” He tried to convince you. He didn’t know why you seemed so hesitant when you both knew the feelings were mutual.

He could see the sadness on your face. You wanted to be with Tyler, but you knew it wouldn’t work. “I would always end up as your second priority. It would ruin us, and we’d never be able to be friends again.” You told him. Your emotion was clear in your voice.

He cocked his head to the side in confusion. That was the last thing he expected you to say. He never thought he struggled at showing you how important you were to him.

“What do you mean? Nobody comes before you. Nobody ever has. I’ve always put you first.” He told you. He was practically begging you for answers. He wanted to know how to assure you.

“Owens, I’m not talking about a person. I’m talking about all of this.” You said, looking around you both. There were storm chasers camping out for as far as you both could see. “What are you saying? That we can’t be together because I chase tornadoes?” He asked, starting to raise his voice.

You both were very stubborn people, so it was gradually turning into more of an argument.

“I’m saying you’d always have one foot out the door. And at the drop of a hat, you’d be racing out to risk your life. I can’t be wondering if you’re gonna come home. But, I know how much you love what you do.” You told him. Your voice cracked, and Tyler stepped forward to try to comfort you.

You put your hands up to stop him. He swore under his breath. He was seeing how determined you really were. He was becoming less confident that you could convince you otherwise.

“Well maybe I love you more.” He said.

The thought of losing you was enough to finally push him to confess how he really felt about you. He saw your eyes soften. Those were the words you’d always dreamed of hearing Tyler say.

You felt your heart break when you realized they didn’t change anything. “Oh, come on, Tyler. It’s not fair to throw out words that you can’t back up with any commitments.” You said.

Tyler was becoming more frustrated as he felt you drifting further and further away. “Don’t push me away. You’ve known me for years. You know me better than anyone. You know I’m not reckless. A risk taker? Yes, but I’m careful enough to stay safe. Because I’ve got someone to come home to.” He told you.

You tried to take a deep breath, but all you could focus on was the broken expression on Tyler’s face. “Tyler, I’ve seen you chase tornadoes for years. I’ve seen how much you light up when you talk about it. I know how much you love it. It’s inspiring, it really is, but it’s also the reason you can’t make a long-term commitment to anything or anyone else.” You told him, honestly.

Tyler shook his head, looking down at the ground. You were technically right. He had trouble making commitments. But it wasn’t because of how much he loved storm chasing.

It was because of how much he loved you.

“What about us, huh? We’ve been friends for years. I’ve never missed a birthday or a phone call or a breakup. So, don’t tell me I can’t make a commitment. I have never failed to be there for you. Why would I stop if we started dating?” He snapped at you.

You flinched at how loudly he was talking. He’d never yelled at you before. He noticed how your expression changed. You stepped backwards, putting some physical and emotional space between the two of you.

You pushed past him to open your car door. “Wait, c’mon, don’t leave,” he begged you. He knew he’d crossed a line, and he was trying to remedy it.

“I’m not gonna stay here when you’re yelling at me like that.” You told him. He grabbed your hand and spun you around to face him. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to. I was trying to tell you that I’d always put you first.” He apologized, squeezing your hand. You wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“I can’t do this right now, Tyler.” You said, pulling your hand back and getting in your car. Tyler felt a pit in his stomach as you drove off. He couldn’t help but worry that he’d lost you for good.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he wondered what to do. His eyes landed on the bar across the street from the motel. He started walking in that direction. He felt stupid for being optimistic that you’d reciprocate his feelings.

His friends all called after him, having seen the whole fight go down. They all asked him where he was going, but he ignored them all. He wasn’t quite ready to talk about you and have his friends tell him he’d screwed up. Because he knew that already.

So, while you drove home and started crying on your couch, Tyler went to the bar. He wasn’t even really drinking that much. It was mostly just sulking.

He’d drowned out everyone else at the bar who was partying. He was sitting at the end of the bar staring into his glass. All he could think about was how hurt you looked when he yelled at you.

He wanted to pull you into his arms and apologize over and over until you forgave him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a news alert playing on the television above the bar. His eyes darted up to the screen and saw “Multiple Tornado Spottings”. He realized your house was right in the middle of the storms.

He swore under his breath and raced towards his truck. Fueled by adrenaline, he sped towards your house. He had the pedal pushed down as far as it would go.

Nothing motivated Tyler more than the thought of you being in harm’s way. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and clicked on your contact.

He anxiously tapped on the steering wheel as his phone rang. It only rang once before he got sent to voicemail. He tried to call you again, and you declined the call again.

You were oblivious to the incoming storm, and you were in no mood to talk to Tyler.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Turn on the news, please.” He muttered to himself, praying that he could will it into existence.

Once he got to your house, he barely turned his truck off before jumping out and sprinting towards the front door.

He banged on the door with his fist. The winds were picking up around him. His adrenaline was still running high.

“Go away, Tyler.” He heard you yell from inside. He pounded on the door again. “There’s a storm, sweetheart. We gotta get to the cellar. It’s not safe.” He yelled through the door. He could barely hear himself over the howling wind. He quickly tapped his fingers on his leg, fidgeting as he waited for you to appear.

The door swung open. Your fear was written all over your face. Tyler grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tornado forming in the distance.

The wind was blowing you both around as you raced towards the cellar. Tyler kept a tight grip on your hand. He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

“Lookout,” Tyler yelled, shielding your body with his as a dumpster went flying by you both. After it missed you both, he tugged you towards the cellar.

The cellar doors had already flung open from the wind. He grabbed your waist, pushing you inside before him. You quickly ran down to the bottom of the stairs.

“Sweetheart, get me a stick or something down there or these doors won’t stay closed.” Tyler told you. He was wincing as he struggled to hold the doors closed.

You grabbed an old broomstick and handed it to him quickly. He shoved it through the handles and prayed it would hold.

“Alright, c’mon, we gotta get to the back.” He said, nudging you.

“Over here,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the closet in the back of the cellar.

Tyler closed the closet door behind you both. It was a small closet. You were facing the back wall. He was covering your whole body with his. He had his hand protectively cupping the back of your head.

“Keep your eyes closed and hold on to those pipes, sweetheart.” He instructed you. You quickly nodded your head and did what he told you to do. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head, to try to comfort you.

You both had always had a nonverbal way of communicating. He obviously knew you were scared because who wouldn’t be? But he also knew that one of your biggest fears was something happening to him while chasing a storm. And now you were wrapped up in that.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He assured you, holding onto you tightly.

A high pitched whistle filled the room as the wind started to pick up. You could feel the pressure envelop your whole body. Everything around you was rattling.

Up above you, you could hear thuds as the tornado flung around cars and anything else in its path. It wasn’t long until you both heard the cellar doors rip open.

The howling wind got louder. It made your ears ring. Tyler tightened his grip on you as the closet doors started to shake. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the pipes.

“You promise me you won’t play hero.” Tyler yelled at you. He didn’t want you to get hurt trying to save him. You furiously shook your head. “I’m not letting anything happen to you.” You yelled back.

The closet doors started shaking even more. The hinges were loudly squeaking. You just knew that the tornado was right above you.

A piece of the door ripped off and flew through the air. The air swirled around the tiny closet, making it harder to hold on.

Pieces of the door kept splintering off. One of them sliced against Tyler’s bicep, causing him to wince and bite down on his lip.

The closet doors finally swung open. With the large cut on Tyler’s arm, his grip accidentally loosened. He started getting pulled backwards. He only had one hand on the pipes. He was gripping it with all the strength he had.

You wrapped one of your arms around the pipes and the other around his waist, pulling him back into you. You buried your face into his chest.

Then, the wind almost instantly disappeared.

You both continued to hold onto each other as your adrenaline still ran high. Tyler kissed the top of your head. “It’s over, sweetheart. We’re safe.” He whispered, still trying to catch his breath.

You both slowly pulled away from each other and leaned against opposite walls. Neither of you said a word as you tried to process what had just happened.

“You saved my life, sweetheart.” He said, looking at you with love in his eyes. You could feel the tears start to bubble up. You were finally letting yourself acknowledge how scared you’d been, now that you weren’t in danger anymore.

“I was so scared to lose you.” You whispered, your voice cracking. He pulled you into his arms, nestling his face into the crook of your neck. He softly rubbed your back. “You did everything right, sweetheart.” He assured you.

He continued to hug you until you stopped crying. When you both pulled apart, you could see the guilt in his eyes.

“This was all my fault.” He mumbled under his breath. You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him. You stubbornly shook your head. “None of this was your fault. It was a tornado. You might be the tornado wrangler, but you can’t control them.” You said, trying to cheer him up and lighten the mood.

He grabbed your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours. Neither of you wanted to keep your hands off each other. You both were still worried if you took your eyes off the other that they’d disappear.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you back there. If I hadn’t, we’d both still be at the motel. You wouldn’t have been in harm’s way if it wasn’t for me.” He told you, apologetically. He was realizing that his actions had put you in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I’m sorry that I yelled at all. I wasn’t mad at you. I really wasn’t. I was mad at myself. You should have no reason to doubt how important you are to me. If you do, I need to fix that.” He said, squeezing both your hands. You noticed a smile start to grow on his face when you didn’t pull away.

“You never gave me a reason to doubt you. I was just scared. We’re not all as brave as the tornado wrangler.” You teased him. He let out a soft chuckle.

It was nice to have a peaceful moment, laughing together like you always did, after a life or death scenario.

“Does that mean?” Tyler started to ask you, a smirk beginning to grow. You just giggled and nodded your head. “Yes, it means you can kiss me, cowboy.” You said, cheesily smiling at him.

He didn’t waste any time grabbing your belt loops and pulling you closer to him. You cupped his face and leaned in to kiss you. You let yourself melt into the kiss. His soft lips fit perfectly against yours. Just like you’d always dreamed.

You could feel him smiling against your lips. You both pulled out of the kiss. Tyler looked at you with a look of awe. “I’ve spent years wishing I could do that.” He said, smiling down at you.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[teastyun]

༻ pound town

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

a/n: i'm going to war (exam phase is about to start), therefore i must make haste (my hiatus starts again). also, i got a new job so i'm not sure when my hiatus will end :(

pt. 1 ; masterlist

grabbing the broom from the back of your mechanics shop, you start you usual closing routine as the streets of Zaun more active as the day ends. growing up in Zaun, you appreciate the livelihood of the people, but grew wary of the criminality rising abruptly at the end of each day. enforcers started to patrol the quiet streets of Zaun and hang up missing posters of Jinx, who you've been visited by for several occasions over the last few months for tech equipment she required. you grew fond of the girl and would occasionally even slip a few extra pieces, and she would thank you proudly by telling you about her latest new technological improvements.

one time, she told you about a prosthesis as her newest invention. Sevika immediately came to your mind and the way she held your cheek the last and first time you saw her. or the way her bionic arm held your hips so strongly as you rode her strap. shit, you really are down bad for this woman who doesn't even know your name.

as several months gone by since then, you managed to gather your savings and invest it into your shop for new techs and products to sell. you were finally able to call your shop your full time job and scrap your shifts at the brothel completely. Sevika didn't only save your shop, but she saved you from drowning in exhaustion as the only thing you ever did was work day and night.

you hoped to see her again, but your hope was slowly scarped as each month passed by.

after sweeping the last corner of your shop, you only had to rearrange your products before you could finally leave to go home. as you tidied the screws collection, the door to your shop opened audibly by your crystals dangling from the person entering.

"we're closed-" you start, but stop as you see the person at the entrance.

there she was, standing in her usual cloak and a hood that hid her face, but you recognised her nonetheless. she took her hood off with a smile as she looked at you. "good to see you again."

suddenly, you felt naked again. although she knew your identity (prolly even the whole time), the mask would hide your facial expressions and reactions. now, you are standing there with a shocked impression written on your face, unsure of how to react to the person that is the reason for your shop to still be alive.

"i see you created something out of this shop since the last time I've seen you," she speaks with a soft smile on her lips as she takes a look around in your shop. "thank you. you were actually a huge help last time we've seen each other," you respond, your hands linked together behind your back as you turn to look around your shop.

honestly, your shop is quite shady from outside with its half-broken broken neon sign spelling the name mechs n' treasures. but once you enter, you quickly realise that it's a one man's business by it's intricate appearance. it has so much personality now that you have as much time as you'd like to spent in it, decorating it with your favourite things you've collected over the years that weren't too precious to be displayed in your small flat above your shop. a few colourful crystals dangle around your entrance and the door to your flat, reflecting the neon lights from the streets of Zaun onto the mechanic pieces you sell. tidiness is your top priority, since it's hard to keep such an old shop neat and clean. you love your old and shady, but precious personal shop and wouldn't wish it to be any different. business seemed to be booming recently, too. you had no idea why, but Zaun is a quick and fast learning city with its advantages and disadvantages, resulting in people visiting your shop to buy the pieces they require for their newest project.

now, Sevika is standing in the centre of your shop, taking one of the mechanical pieces into her hands and looking at it in detail.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, looking at her with curiosity. after she puts the mechanic piece back into its tray, she says "I was hoping you could me out with this."

she reveals her bionic arm, where you see the its shimmer capsules completely shattered. surprised, you walk towards her and take her bionic arm into her hand to have a closer look. you inhale her smoky scent and suddenly were confronted with a vivid memory of the first night you guys met at the brothel, as you sat in her lap writhing under her touch. focus. you twisted a few pieces to inspect the reachability of the broken capsules. "I assume you won't be able to take it off?" you ask her, your eyes still fixed on an odd piece you've found.

she shakes her head, "it would be a hazard trying to put it on afterwards. do you think you'll still manage to repair, though?"

after twisting the last few pieces for inspection, you leave her arm. "shouldn't be no issue," you take a look at your wristwatch and notice how late it already is. a few extra minutes won't hurt, you decide.

you nod towards the counter, "take a seat, i'll be right with you."

entering the back of your shop and take a big breath. fuck, this intimidating woman still effects you after several months. at this point, you were sure you even forgot about her.

you grab your toolbox and head to Sevika, who is waiting for you behind your counter on a chair. her cloak is thrown over your register's desk, revealing a similar outfit you saw at the brothel. only now you realise how muscular this woman actually is. her arm is almost fully exposed by her sleeveless top and a choker around her neck makes you shake off your dirty thoughts.

you place the toolbox on the counter before you take a seat next to it. Sevika watches every move of yours, making you even more nervous than you already are.

grabbing your first tool, you lay her arm in you lap and start unscrewing the plates that cover the isolation of the shimmer capsules. her arm felt heavy, but oddly warm in your lap for the fact that it's broken. you remember how the same arm pinned you down on her strap a few months ago.

your brain is almost about to malfunction if Sevika wouldn't have interrupted your thoughts, "so, how is your shop going?" she asks as she leans the side of her upper body on the counter. when you look down at her, she's only mere centimetres away from your face. her grey eyes digging into yours. your pussy clenches as your breathing stops at the sight of her. you quickly look away and focus on her arm again. "it's going well," you start and grab for another tool to remove the shattered pipes. "sometimes it's exhausting to handle a shop alone, but you get used to it, you know."

her eyes follow your movements on her arm while she hums as an indication for you to continue. "once, a dude i recognised from the brothel came to pick up a few things and i couldn't help but wonder what his day job is. he was a sex worker as well, so he probably even recognised me," you tell her. it's unusual for you to share thoughts and memories of your old job. you weren't ashamed of it, but you much happier spending your time in your own shop and not thinking back to your old routine.

she shifts in her seat to look up at you, "i'm glad you were able to escape that shit hole, beautiful," she says quietly, careful of the words she chooses, "do you still remember that night?"

your movements halt immediately at her questions and you felt her eyes laying heavily on you, watching every single movement. the way you took a deep breath, trying not to appear nervous around her. the mere thought of that night made you feel butterflies in your stomach and wetness in your core.

"i do," you confess. without meeting her eyes, you continue your maintenance on her bionic arm in your lap, trying to suppress the urge of jumping into her lap and kissing her senseless. "do you?" you ask in almost a whisper, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

when she didn't, your eyes travelled to hers in question. she seemed to be in deep thoughts as well before she asked "how couldn't i?"

her eyes finally meet yours and you recognise such sincerity and trust in them, you couldn't help the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips.

"you were the only thing on my mind in this cruel world," she continues, making you feel several things at once. "and i don't even know your name."

you chuckled and referred your eyes back to your almost finished work, concentrating on exchanging the pipes.

"so, you're not even going to tell me?" she asks amused.

"what, my name?" you act oblivious, knowing exactly what she wanted. now it was her turn to chuckle at your teasing. "you can be a pain in the ass, you know that?"

you shake your head in disbelief with a smile on your lips as you screw on the last iron plate on her arm.

"move it," you command and she obliges. she moves her joints, making the shimmer that was left in her tank fuel her new pipe, while moving it a few more times in several directions. you've never seen machinery working with shimmer so closely. you wonder how the metal felt like against your skin.

ripping you out of your trance, she stands up. right in front you, almost between your legs, which you desperately wanted to close at the sight as you felt your pussy clench.

"thank you," she looks at you, her eyes wandering from your neck down to the rest of your body. it's like she can't help herself, checking you out as you sit on her cloak next to your work instruments.

"you even look beautiful in your casual attire," she whispers as her eyes meet yours again.

"so," you wrap your index finger through her choker, "how about taking it off and see what's hidden underneath?" you cock your head before you pull her closer. your legs are opened by her thighs between them as she looks down at you, clearly surprised by your boldness. "i don't fuck nameless girls," she says in an equal tone to her low chuckle.

you take a quick look at her lips, wondering what they would feel like on yours. "didn't seem so last time we've seen each other."

your finger is still wrapped around her chocker as you grin. she didn't answer. she knows you're messing with her.

she places her arms on each of your sides, the sounds of her bionic arm moving leaving a shudder throughout your body. she's dangerously close.

"if i remember correctly, last time you've fucked yourself, princess."

shocked by her comment, your grin fades as you suddenly remember how you rode her in that brothel, eagerly chasing your orgasm as she guided you through it.

you let go of her choker and rest your hand at the back of her neck instead, caressing the soft strands of brunette hair as you try to maintain yourself.

"y/n," you whisper. Sevika's eyes widen at first, but a slight grin sets on her lips at the sound of your name.

"beautiful name, princess," she whispers back and you feel her breath on your lips with each sound she speaks.

you close your eyes as you feel her full lips grazing yours. "y/n," she whispers repeatedly. her lips finally touch yours, first cautiously but confident after a few seconds of lingering. you copy her motions and gasp when her tongue grazes your lower lip.

pressing her more firmly against yourself, you part your lips for her tongue to enter. she faintly tastes like cigarettes, but more of a harsh liquor you can't really pinpoint. your arms cling desperately around her neck, feeling her torso pressed around yours in your heated kiss. you lock her against your core with your legs around her hips, moaning as she leaves your lips to leave kisses on your neck. "you have no idea how often i thought of kissing you," she whispers before she trails down kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, licking the line of it and pressing soft bites against your sweet spots.

instead of responding, you pull her up again and lock your lips together. you press your lower body against her in search of the friction you desperately seek, but with no success. her lips form into a smirk against your lips as she realises what you're seeking.

frustrated, you separate yourself from her and motion for her to step aside, so you could jump of the counter. "i have a bed upstairs," you tell her. Sevika stands there confused, but god does she look hot. her lips are glazed from your spit and her hair looks slightly tousled from your hand that clung to it.

she doesn't let you move, though. instead, her hands are pressed firmly on your side as she still stand between your legs. "i thought that might be more comfortable..." you say, unsure of the current situation. she shifts in her stance to let you stand up.

"fuck, yes. i mean, yes, let's go upstairs," she chuckles after stumbling over her own words and her bionic arm moves to gesture you to lead the way. you laugh at her sudden awkwardness but go ahead to lock up your shop.

walking up the stairs, you fumble for your home's keys. Sevika followed you closely behind, touching your waist and kissing your neck as you try to unlock the door, a sigh escapes your lips as you try to unlock your door.

as the door closes behind you, she pins you against it. her hand holds your wrist against the door as she kisses you feverishly. her bionic arm slips beneath your ass to lift you up, so you could wrap your legs around her hips. you press your breasts against her, trying to seek for any further touches. "the bed, Sev," you say between kisses, too occupied to actually resist her touch.

she ignores your words and losses her grip on your wrists instead to wander to the buttons of your shirt, never breaking the kiss. "patience, beautiful," she whispers as her lips leave yours to press a kiss on your cheek. "we have all night, right?"

your arms find their way back around her neck, playing with her loose hair. "please," you respond, your eyes making contact with hers. you peck her lips before you say, "i want to touch you, too."

her head falls onto your shoulder as she groans, "you make me loose my composure so easily," before looking back into your eyes with need and desperation "do you realise that?"

you grin at her confession and kiss her hot and wet, moaning into the kiss as she continues to unbutton your shirt until your bra is exposed to her hand. she grazes the outlines with her fingertips, making a shudder run through your body as you gasp. you press your chest into her touch and she gladly responds with cupping your breast while biting your lower lip.

her index finger grazes your puffy nipple through your bra and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips.

she pecks you one last time with a smile, before looking around your small flat, seemingly inspecting your small setup where your bedroom and living room are combined to your cozy grove.

her hand moves to your back, stabilising you in her arms before she finally heads to your bed to lay you down on it, watching you as you lay there with your undone shirt and the few strands that escaped your hairstyle completely wordless.

similar to her, you exhale at the sight in front of you. Sevika is still fully clothed, so you pull her down by her collar to kiss her hard, wrapping your legs around her waist to pull her body on top of you. "take this off," she whispers against your lips, her bionic hand gripping your shirt as her hand sneaks behind your neck to tilt your head for her to suck.

she kisses and bites your sweet spot, disrupting your motion of pulling your shirt off and making your eyes roll back in pleasure. you moan her name in frustration before she finally let's go.

"this too," she tells you as she eyes every little detail on your torso. when you take your bra off, her bionic hand cups your breast. the sharp and cold details of her metallic hand exposed on one of your most sensitive parts of your body leave you breathing hard, moaning as her pointy fingers pinch and twist your nipple. "you have no idea how often i thought of touching them since that night," her eyes are not leaving your chest as she confesses.

"you could've touched them that night," you respond, your hand finding the back of her head as you play with her small ponytail. after hearing your words she looks at you, almost with a shocked expression on her face. "there's no way i would have touched you without your consent," she tells you. surprised by this sudden turn, you move up to rest your weight on your elbows, looking at her in disbelief. "but you payed for that night with me," you state, still confused by what she just said.

she's just as surprised as you, cupping your cheek softly as she spoke, "y/n, i would never do anything to you without your consent. do you know that?" she asks you, her eyes never leaving yours as she spoke. you've never experienced any sex partner expressing their respect to you verbally. and fuck, this is probably the moment you realise you have feelings for this woman in front of you. you nod in response, still overwhelmed from your thoughts and feelings. she smiles at you as she says, "good girl."

your soaking pussy almost purred at that nickname. kissing her quick but softly, you grind your clothed hips against hers as you kiss a trail down her neck to her exposed collarbone.

she exhales heavily at your motions before saying, "tell me what you want, beautiful."

"i want you to fuck me," you respond after hesitating, still nibbling at her collarbone as a soft moan escapes her.

"with this," you continue as you grind stronger onto her clothed cunt than before.

her bionic arm holds herself on the bed as her fingers trace your curves. "with my fingers?" she teases as she opens your trousers with her other hand slowly.

your lips move up to her ear, licking and biting her soft skin. "no," you whisper, "with this."

you press the seam of her jeans with your fingers against her clit, making her grip your hips hard from your sudden touch. "fuck," she mutters in response, clearly trying to compose herself before she continues to fully undress you.

"under one condition," she starts as she takes in your naked body with hungry eyes, "i'll have a taste before i fuck you," she unbuttons her shirt, revealing a dark bandeau bra beneath. she's in a hurry, so she won't bother to take off her unbuttoned shirt, but moves on by removing her jeans as well as underwear in one go.

you try to take a peek at her body, but she immediately kneels between your legs to kiss the soft skin of your thighs, dragging her motions slowly to your soaking pussy as her hands hold you firm beneath her touch. feeling her breath on your clit, you whine from sensitivity, gripping the sheets beneath you as she finally tastes you for the first time.

both of you moan from the touch, your hips stutter beneath her strong hands. she eats you out like a starving woman, humming at the sounds you're making. your clit is circled by her tongue as she softly bites and sucks before your legs start shaking from the pleasure that builds up in your lower belly.

she moves her arm from your thigh to press softly against it, realising how close you are. "come on my tongue," she tells you, intensifying her motions as you come hard. the way you moan her name sounds similar to a scream, your thighs pressing against her head as you throw your head back in pleasure.

she gently guides you through it by licking in decreasing motions, careful of your sensitivity. as your calming down, she kisses your clit one last time before she straightens herself to watch you after your first high.

her lips and chin are glistening from her pussy and strands that were originally framing her face now hang loosely. "you did so well, beautiful," she whispers, climbing on top of you to press kisses into your face. "fuck, you really sent me to another dimension," you confess, laughing a litte at the absurdity. she chuckles at your words, grinning as she examines your face.

"are you still down for another round?" she asks carefully, giving you the space you might need, but you nod as you smile at her. she kisses you before she straightens again to manhandle your legs, placing one on her shoulder as she moves her own over your other to align with your pussy, not starting just yet. she caresses the long on her shoulder as she presses kisses along with it.

she looks absolutely breathtaking while doing it. you feel her pussy kissing yours, and fuck, she's driving you crazy. the unbuttoned shirt exposes the abs you eyed earlier through the tightness of her shirt. her v-line is deeply defined, even more when she starts to slowly grind against you. her pointy bionic fingers suddenly press into your thigh as she gasps from the pleasure she suddenly receives. her grey eyes watch you heavily, making sure you're alright with her pace as she slowly picks it up.

"you feel so good," you whimper as you meet her motions by copying hers, crying from the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm. "fuck- i'm close again."

she grins at your confession, pushing herself harder on your clit as you cry out from the friction. she's mostly quiet, but a gasp escapes her lips anytime you improve your speed.

"come with me, y/n" she leans down, kissing you with so much passion as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure. you moan into the kiss, your breasts moving with each thrust as your nipples graze against the cotton of her bandeau. you felt your orgasm creeping, but you weren't ready for the intensity it comes with. you cry out against her lips, holding her against you as you feel her groaning from her own orgasm. both your hips stutter in your motions before you stop to look at her.

her head rests in the nape of your neck and the only thing you feel is her hot breath against your skin. as you untangle your legs, you kiss on the side of her head. "are you alright?" you ask after several seconds of silence.

she vaguely nods, still maintaining her breath before she answers "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

you smile as you caress her hair through your fingers. "i'd love to figure it out in the future," you continue, making space between your faces so you could look at her as you speak. "this idea you've just mentioned," you clarify as she looks at you speechless.

she kisses you passionately after a few seconds, smiling as she realises what you were suggesting.

"let me take you to dinner after your shift tomorrow?" she asks as her thumb trails your cheekbone. you nod, kissing her on the cheeks before you answer "gladly."

you both fall asleep, and sooner or later date nights with Sevika become your favourite traditions as you two engage in a passionate, but intimate relationship with each other.

tags: @sevsbaby @womenathleteshaveme @macaroni676

masterlist

[moonlesslights]

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok: