#keep with me forward all through the night

[its-avalon-08]

Omg you recent lando fic has me smiling like crazy no joke.

I was hoping I could request something similar ish. Where reader is Max.V. Sister and Lando wants it to be secre, bu the reade thinks he only wants to keep it secret because he's going to break up with her soon. (Dating for a while), and when the reader tells Carlos this, he tells Lando, who decides to let the whole world know by running up to her and kissing her just before the race.

secrets and shushed voices (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort

The buzz of conversation in the Red Bull hospitality was overwhelming, but Y/N Verstappen had mastered the art of tuning it out. She adjusted her team polo, flipping through her notes for Max's debrief, when she felt a presence near her. Without looking up, she muttered, “Unless you have coffee for me, I’m not interested.”

A soft chuckle answered her. “What if I said I could charm you into being interested?”

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing at the source. Lando Norris leaned casually against the table, his grin infuriatingly perfect.

“Charm me?” she repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume that’s possible.”

“Bold is my middle name,” he shot back, undeterred.

“Funny,” she quipped, turning back to her notes. “I thought it was ‘Overtakes on Softs.’”

His laugh was genuine, and she hated that it made her chest flutter. “Touché, Verstappen. Touché.”

Over the next few months, their paths crossed often—media days, driver briefings, paddock run-ins. Lando made it his mission to tease her relentlessly, and to her dismay, she found herself looking forward to it.

One afternoon, she’d been ranting about how Max ignored her race notes.

“I bet he ignores them because you write, like, an essay for every corner,” Lando teased, plopping down beside her in the lounge.

“You’ve never even seen my notes!”

“I don’t need to. You scream ‘overachiever.’”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “And you scream ‘class clown.’”

“Ah, but clowns are memorable.”

“Annoying, more like.”

“Annoyingly charming,” he corrected with a wink, making her laugh despite herself.

--

Their playful banter became a staple in the paddock, much to the amusement of their teams. Max often shot her knowing looks, while Carlos liked to poke Lando with, “Mate, just ask her out already.”

But Lando enjoyed the chase. Every lingering glance, every sarcastic comment, every moment they shared—it all felt electric.

One night after a particularly chaotic post-race party, they found themselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the marina.

“You’re surprisingly tolerable when you’re not trying to be funny,” Y/N remarked, leaning against the railing.

“And you’re surprisingly fun when you’re not intimidating,” Lando countered, nudging her playfully.

She looked at him, the usual walls in her eyes softening. “You don’t actually think I’m intimidating, do you?”

“Only in the best way,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re... different, Y/N. In a good way.”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she covered it with a smirk. “You’re such a flirt, Norris.”

“Only with you.”

--

It was after a rainy qualifying in Silverstone when everything changed. Y/N had stayed late in the garage, waiting for Max, when Lando appeared, soaked and grinning.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked, handing him a towel.

“Trying to decide if I should do something really stupid,” he said, his voice unusually serious.

“What kind of stupid?”

“This kind.”

Before she could process his words, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly. The world seemed to blur as she kissed him back, a hundred unspoken moments between them finally falling into place.

--

Dating Lando was like stepping into a secret world. Behind closed doors, he was thoughtful, goofy, and overwhelmingly sweet. But in the paddock, he insisted they keep their relationship under wraps.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed,” he’d said one evening, his hand brushing her hair back as they lounged on the couch. “I just want us to have this—our thing—without the world tearing it apart.”

She had nodded, understanding his reasoning, but over time, doubt began to creep in. What if he wasn’t ready to commit? What if this secrecy was his way of keeping an exit strategy?

As Lando hugged her tightly after another stolen moment in the shadows of the McLaren motorhome, her thoughts spiraled.

He’s holding on so tight, but for how long? Am I just a phase he’s going to grow out of?

His voice broke through her haze. “You okay?”

She forced a smile, burying her face in his shoulder. “Yeah. Just tired.”

But as he held her, all she could think was, How much longer until he decides to let go?

--

Y/N sat in the McLaren hospitality, her hands gripping a lukewarm cup of tea she wasn’t drinking. She’d just watched Lando breeze past her in the paddock—no glance, no smile, not even a quick touch on the arm. He’d turned the charm on for the cameras as if she didn’t exist, leaving her to stew in the weight of their secrecy.

She set the cup down with a loud clink and stormed out. A short walk later, she was in the Ferrari hospitality, where Carlos and Rebecca sat chatting.

“Carlos,” she blurted, her voice trembling. “He’s going to break up with me.”

Carlos frowned, sitting up straighter. “¿Qué? Who’s breaking up with you?”

“Lando!” she exclaimed, collapsing onto the couch beside Rebecca, her emotions spilling over. “He doesn’t want this anymore—I know it!”

Rebecca placed a calming hand on Y/N’s knee. “Slow down, cariño. What happened?”

Y/N sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. “It’s everything. He didn’t even look at me this morning. No hug, no kiss. Nothing. He just… walked past me like I wasn’t even there. And it’s not just today—it’s been months of hiding. He insists on keeping this a secret. I thought it was romantic at first, like we had something private, but now—” Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Now you think it’s because he’s trying to find an easy way out,” Carlos finished, his tone heavy with disapproval.

Y/N nodded, sobbing into her hands. “He says it’s to protect us, but I don’t feel protected, Carlos. I feel like I’m not good enough for him to want people to know.”

Rebecca pulled Y/N into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re more than good enough. If anything, it’s him who’s too blind to see what he’s doing to you.”

Carlos crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in thought. “Has he given you any reason to believe he doesn’t care about you anymore? Other than the secrecy?”

Y/N hesitated, her voice muffled against Rebecca’s shoulder. “It’s all the little things. He’s so different when we’re alone—he’s kind and loving and makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world. But the second we step into the paddock, it’s like I don’t exist. I just… I can’t do this anymore.”

Carlos’s face hardened, his protective side kicking in. “He needs to hear this, Y/N. But not from you—no, not while you’re like this.” He stood abruptly. “I’ll talk to him.”

“No!” Y/N sat up, her eyes wide. “You’ll just make things worse!”

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly. “But he’s my friend, and I’m not going to sit here and watch him break your heart because he’s too much of an idiot to see what he’s doing. He needs a reality check.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement. “Carlos is right. He knows Lando better than anyone—you should let him handle it.”

Y/N sniffled again, her resolve softening under Rebecca’s calming presence. “You’re sure you won’t tell him I sent you?”

Carlos crouched in front of her, his expression softer now. “I’ll make it about what I’ve noticed. He’ll never know you said anything.”

Y/N nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

Rebecca gave Y/N a comforting squeeze before Carlos kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll fix this, amiga. Trust me.”

As Carlos left, Y/N leaned into Rebecca’s side, her tears slowing but her heart still heavy. “What if he really does want to break up with me?”

Rebecca stroked her hair gently. “Then he’s the biggest fool on the planet, and we’ll make sure he knows it.”

--

Carlos leaned back in his chair in the McLaren hospitality, casually sipping on a bottle of water as Lando scrolled through his phone. They had been talking about summer break plans, with Lando suggesting a group trip to Ibiza.

“Ibiza would be fun,” Carlos said, setting his bottle down. “But only if you bring your girlfriend.”

Lando choked slightly, quickly glancing around to see if anyone overheard. “Shh, man!” he hissed, leaning closer. “What if someone hears you?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Lando frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Carlos straightened, his tone turning serious. “Y/N came to see me today. She’s convinced you’re going to break up with her.”

“What?!” Lando’s voice rose before he quickly lowered it, glancing around again. “Why would she think that?”

“Because, mate, you’re treating her like some big secret, like she’s something you’re ashamed of,” Carlos said bluntly. “Every time you refuse to acknowledge her in public, every time you say no to posting a picture or holding her hand, she feels like she’s not enough for you.”

Lando’s face paled, his phone slipping from his hand. “That’s not… I don’t—” He stopped, his mind racing. “I’ve never said I’m ashamed of her. I thought she understood why I wanted to keep it private.”

Carlos leaned forward, his eyes hard. “She might have understood at first, but it’s been ten months, Lando. She’s tired. And frankly, I don’t blame her.”

Lando opened his mouth to argue but stopped as Carlos’s words sank in. His mind spiraled into a series of flashbacks.

-flashback-

He remembered the first time she’d asked if she could post a picture of them on her story. It was a harmless shot—just their intertwined hands on a table.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he’d said quickly. “You know how people can be.”

Her smile faltered, but she nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”

-flashback-

After a race in Monaco, Y/N had waited for him by the McLaren motorhome. When she tried to hug him, he’d gently pushed her into the shadows.

“Not here,” he’d whispered, glancing around nervously.

Her shoulders had slumped, and she took a step back. “Right. Sorry.”

-flashback-

At a post-race party, Rebecca had taken a picture of them laughing together. Y/N had been so happy, showing it to him with a hopeful smile.

“Becca sent this to me. Can I share it?”

Lando had hesitated. “Maybe not. It’s just… better if we keep it private.”

The light in her eyes had dimmed, though she tried to mask it with a nod. “Okay.”

present day

Lando’s chest tightened as the memories hit him. He hadn’t realized how often he’d dismissed her feelings or how much his need for secrecy had chipped away at her confidence.

“She thinks I want to break up with her?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos nodded, his expression softening. “She’s scared, Lando. She loves you, but she’s scared that you don’t feel the same way.”

Lando ran a hand through his hair, his heart aching. “I’m such an idiot.”

Carlos smirked faintly. “You said it, not me.”

Lando ignored the jab, his mind already working. He couldn’t let her think he didn’t care. He couldn’t let her feel like she wasn’t enough.

“I need to fix this,” he said firmly, standing up so fast that his chair scraped against the floor.

Carlos leaned back with a satisfied grin. “About time.”

Lando’s mind raced with ideas, his determination growing. He’d spent months hiding their relationship from the world—now, he’d show everyone exactly how much she meant to him.

--

The pre-race chaos was in full swing. Mechanics bustled about, drivers made their final rounds with engineers, and the paddock buzzed with energy. Y/N stood to the side near the McLaren garage, watching quietly as Lando spoke with his team. Her arms were crossed, her heart heavy from the morning’s events.

She had seen him arrive, head down, moving past her like she didn’t exist. Again. The weight of the past few months pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Rebecca’s words from earlier played in her head: “If he doesn’t see what he’s doing to you, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Maybe he doesn’t.

Suddenly, she noticed Carlos walking toward Lando, giving him a nudge and pointing in her direction. Lando froze, his head snapping up. Their eyes met briefly before Y/N turned away, unable to handle the hurt.

But before she could step back into the crowd, she heard his voice calling her name.

“Y/N!”

Her heart jumped. She turned to see Lando jogging toward her, his race suit partially unzipped and flapping as he moved. She frowned, confused. What is he doing?

As he reached her, he stopped, slightly out of breath. “I need to talk to you.”

“Now? You’re about to race,” she said, her tone wary.

“Now,” he insisted, his blue eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. “I’ve been an idiot, and I need to fix this.”

“Lando, what are you—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he stepped forward, cupping her face gently with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry for making you feel like you’re not enough, for hiding what we have, for… everything.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Lando…”

“I was scared,” he admitted, his forehead resting against hers. “Not of being with you, but of the world ruining what we have. I thought I was protecting us, but all I did was hurt you, and I hate myself for it.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore,” she whispered.

His eyes widened in shock. “No. God, no. I want you, Y/N. I love you. I’ve loved you since the day we met, and I’m done pretending I don’t.”

Before she could process his words, he pulled her into a kiss—deep and unapologetic, right there in the middle of the paddock.

The world around them seemed to pause. For a moment, there was only him—his lips on hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her, as if he was afraid to let go.

When they finally broke apart, she noticed the stunned silence around them. Cameras clicked furiously, and the hum of murmured voices grew louder.

“Lando…” she started, her cheeks flushed.

He grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Let them talk. I don’t care anymore.”

“But the team, the media—”

“Let them say what they want,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “I’m not hiding you anymore, Y/N. You’re my girlfriend, and the whole damn world is going to know it.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding. His words, his actions—it was all so overwhelming.

“Say something,” he said nervously, his grin faltering.

She threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion.

Cheers erupted around them, and Carlos’s loud, teasing whistle cut through the noise. “¡Eso es, chico! About time!”

Lando laughed, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You good now?”

Y/N nodded, her tears finally spilling over—but this time, they were happy ones. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Because I’m not going anywhere, and I’m making sure everyone knows it.”

She smiled through her tears, and he kissed her again, sealing the promise with every ounce of love he felt.

[dadsbongos]

sweetnerd

@toxycodone / @maniacpixiedreamboy been waiting to post this one for ya (based on this post of his)

summary - daisuke -desperate for some release after months of passionless jerking- begs to eat you out one night.

1 k words / 18+! mdni

Recently, the lock on medical had been snapped off. Thankfully, you knew the culprit to be Swansea after a belligerent search for painkillers. And unfortunately, you were responsible for watching over the numerous drugs each night.

Well, you claim it’s a misfortune but really you placed the burden upon yourself. Anya insisted that she would sit with you -- seemed borderline inconsolable at the idea of you being there alone. Then she told you the code to unlock the ship’s gun.

You weren’t sure why a nurse and her assistant had access to the gun when even Captain Curly didn’t, but you also weren’t getting paid enough to ask. Besides, you’ve never had a reason to use it so why concern yourself?

As if sensing all such serenity, the Tulpar bangs outside. Then Daisuke is clambering inside, hands on the doorframe and cheeks flush. His knees are pressed together, his whole body bent like some cheap hanger. Hair tousled, strands upright in odd angles -almost electric in nature. If not for the utter strangling silence behind him and his heavy breathing, you might’ve thought the rest of the ship was on fire.

“Dai… suke..?” you sit up groggily, scrubbing exhaustion from your eye, “The hell’s wrong with you? Do you know what time it is?”

“Do you?” he shoots, abandoning the argument a second later in favor of quietly humming, “I wanted to ask you…”

“Yeah?”

“Uhm, ugh… It was easier in my head… earlier…” he mumbles, hand drifting down toward his pelvis. He scrunches the crotch of his sleep pants, a lofty sigh escaping at the squeeze, “Can you- I’m just, you get it? You’ve gotta,” he clenches his eyes, seemingly shaking away the humiliation that very instant and looking at you with the biggest, wettest plead you’ve ever seen, “Can you please sit on my face while I jerk off please? Please?”

The pinched look on your face does not scream disgust, which only relieves him slightly -- he hadn’t really considered what he’d do if you reported his question to Captain Curly. Head too hot with want to forethink something as trivial as a sexual harassment lawsuit.

“Why…?” you lean back, hesitant though not appalled.

“I need to get off, like crazy,” he stumbles forward, slow enough for you to roughly shove him back if you want to, “All I got is an old mag, and it’s junk!” you can hear the delirium thrumming through him the longer you keep him waiting, “You’re so hot, I just wanna eat you out… You don’t even have to do anything, just ride my face! I’ll be good, I promise. We can stop whenever, too, I don’t need to finish,” he swallows harshly before whispering something you’re not totally sure you were meant to hear, “Just the memory could make me cum anyway.”

“Uhm…”

“I’ll give you some of my sweetener stash!”

“I don’t want that, Daisuke…”

“Then forget you heard it!” his dark eyes scramble over your body, “What else can I give you?”

Your own gaze flips over his shoulder, out the still open medical door and down the hall. Empty. Quiet. You snag him by the loose collar of his spare Pony Express shirt, sunshine fabric pillowing between your finger, wrangling him into the bay.

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, “The lock’s busted.”

Daisuke’s rosy lips drawl upward, loose and loopy and disbelieving, “You’re serious?”

“Aren’t you?”

He nods hastily, jumping back onto one of the care beds before flattening across it -- pleading silently up at you with wet puppy eyes while scrubbing sweaty palms down his thighs. Crinkling the soft material until it’s ricketing down his knees; watching hawklike as you slowly strip. Then you crawl atop of him, he clutches you by the hips and blows out a wildly uneven breath.

Barely able to find the strength to blink -lest he be cursed to cut the sight of your bare skin from his eyes- Daisuke only just scrounges the wherewithal to assist you into kneeling over his scorched face.

Exhaling between your thighs, Daisuke winds one hand around your thigh -blunt nails digging into the fat- while wrapping his cock with the other.

Craning his neck, he approaches eating you out the exact way you assumed he would: eagerly and without forethought. Absent of technique, but so full of hunger; his tongue parting and swirling wherever he pleases in that moment. As rhythmless as he is, he’s overtly sloppy -- wet clicks livening the silent room.

Billows of loose breath echoing. You sigh as he whimpers into you. Your weight jostling over his face as he bucks wildly into his tight fist -the resulting gasp only makes him thrust up harder.

“Ah, Daisuke,” pure instinct encourages you to reach down and wrangle his hair, keeping him still for you to grind down and fuck his face. Swirling your hips for that wet friction and Daisuke puts up no fight: only moaning louder into you. Vibrations making you shudder and weep again, “Ah- Daisuke!”

He croons beneath the praise, thumbing the soaking head of his cock while tongue-fucking you open. Desperately stretching his neck to nuzzle deeper into you with his own mewls leakier than a broken faucet. The messy sound of his clenched fist rapidly working his cock grows louder -- you glance over your shoulder to find him shiny with precum. Hand a mere blur over his thick erection. Ruby head peeking at you with every thrust until pearly ropes are painting his knuckles -- some more ambitious shots flying onto your back.

You’d somewhat expected him to slide back like some content, melty goop.

Daisuke surprises you when he smears cum over you whole before using it as lube to slide in, nearing knuckle deep. He moans in time with you as if he can feel it -or maybe just because feeling you clench around him is that good.

“God,” he whimpers beneath you, fingers curling inside you, “I could die down here…”

It might’ve been alarming, if he hadn’t said it so dreamily.

Maybe you’ll let him go down on you more often, if he’s always going to be so eager.

[valalice]

ꨄ︎ cw. fem!reader. smut nsfw. ab grinding/riding. sevika is a tease & a little condescending & mocking. smoking ( on sevika's part ). slight praise. begging. reader calls sevika sevi.

sevika's grip on your hips steadies you. the familiar feel of her warm calloused hand on you is a stark contrast to her coolly sharp mechanical arm. "shit. y're so wet already." she acknowledged. eyes flickering between your face of pleasure, your tits, and the movement of you working yourself on her—now—glistening abs. "needed you all day. looked s'good." you mumbled. arching into sevika, hands landing on her tits to gain leverage to grind you clit against the muscle at a new angle.

"is that so?" she teases. your shut tighter and you clamp down harder on your already swollen bottom lip, determined to reach the bliss you've starved after all day. "mhm," you muffle out. your eyes startle open at an absence of a hand on you, only for sevika's large hand to be placed on the nape of your neck, a thumb stroking your cheek. there's a hungry glint in her eye and she moves her hand to the back of your neck to push you further into her, encapsulating your lips in a heated kiss.

when the two of you disconnect there's a sloppy string of saliva that connects you with her, it only pushes you over the edge more. you push yourself back up, but with her hand still on the back of your neck, she pushes you back down once more. lips just barely touching, "tell me how bad you needed me," your glossy eyes widen at her request. "and no more closing your eyes and biting your lip bullshit." her grasp on you releases and she reaches over to grab her cigar and lighter. the shift in her hips as she reaches over and the tightening of her mechanical arm still on your hip to keep you from moving too much as she moves has you clenching your cunt as the slight friction. lighting it, throwing the lighter back onto the nightstand and inhaling the smoke, her eyes momentarily before puffing out the smoke through her nose.

you're met with the comforting grey of her eyes once more. sevika corks up a brow at you. "well? get to movin' and talkin'." her words breaking you out of the trance you were under, settling back into a position, beginning to grind your slick cunt on her tummy again. "atta girl."

the smoke from sevika's cigar filling the room adds to the cloudiness of your mind, "needed y'so bad." you repeat for probably the third time this night. "how so?" brows squinting together, your mouth falling into a small "o" shape. your body becomes hotter when you realize you're already close to coming soon. "ah— like this. me on top of you." you gasp.

"hm," she grunts, taking another drag of her cigar. the puffs of smoke exits her mouth as she speaks, "'nd what's got you all worked up, doll?" you know she's teasing you, she knows damn well what's got you so horned up. but regardless you tell her. "you. y're crop top. tummy and abs." she snickers at your answer. finding the way you're panting like a dog in heat cute.

"but, i wear the same thing everyday. what's so different?"

a loud groan erupts from you. falling forward into her once more. "sevi," you whine. "i—"

"you what?"

blinking down to glare down at her where you're met with a smirk. oh. "you're playing with me."

her eyebrows lift and the smirk turns into a grin, but it's quickly replaced by her taking her cigar into her mouth. "i wanna cum. please." the squelching noises of your cunt on her abs fills the room. you're so overworked and restless to reach your high.

"i don't know—"

you cut her off, "please, please, please." moaning out, "been so good, thinkin' of you 'nd only you all day." giving her the best doe eyes you can muster up at this moment.

sevika's gaze softens before it turns away from you. stretching out her arm to bud the end of the cigar. "sit up f'me." doing as she obeys. the hand once holding the cigar falls back into its place on your hips. she grinds you down onto her abs, "fuck, sevi." your wetness making it easy for her to continue moving your hips back and forth. she thinks there's something so raw and intimate about how you surrender your body to her, your willingness to trust that she'll take care of you the way you need. it swells something within her chest, and when you look so pretty all glistening, soft, and your chest shallowly raising and falling to contain and exhale air that you so desperately need. she can't help but give into you.

"c'mon, pretty. cum for me." she coxes in a husky lull. her harsh grip on your plush hips grinding your aching puffy clit onto her muscle tips you over. with a final gasp you shutter, whining out as sevika helps you ride out your high, still manipulating your hips to move. you slump against her, falling straight into her. curving your back so you'd be able to litter sloppy lovesick kisses across her face. "alright, stop that." you allow sevika to pull you away from her face, showcasing your dopey grin, "y'know you love it." you argue, leaning back down to give her a quick peck. "not really." she grumbles. rolling your eyes at her response you teasingly pinch her nipple. a gasp comes from sevika, sheepishly you giggle at her hardening expression. sliding off of her body to lie next to her.

"don't know why you got off. you're just—" she doesn't finish her sentence. "'m gonna what?" confused, brows furrowed as you watch her face soften. following her line of site, you're met with sevika's entire abdomen covered in your slick, traveling all the down past her belly button. you swear you see a glint in her happy trail and you know it's not just sweat. "sorry."

her dark gaze snaps to you, "sorry? you're cleaning your mess up."

[eternalguk]

Before Sunday Ends | jjk. (M)

I love you the first time, I love you the last time.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : With scents of vanilla lingering in the air. With the comforting sound of Jungkook cooking. And, with a deep, unspoken connection that needs no words... you find yourself falling in love with Jungkook all over again.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, boyfriend.jk & teacher!reader (just slight references)

↠ Word count : 4.5k

↠ Warnings : flirting (you make cringe!), kissing, making out, mentions of shirtless Jungkook, mentions of food / cooking, making out, shower!sex (he fucks her from behind), unprotected!sex, a small spank for oc, mentions of hickey’s, Jungkook has a filthy mouth, Jungkook himself. (I think that’s everything, please let me know if I miss something).

↠ A/n : hi there ; happy Sunday 🤍 although it is not officially winter, the start of December usually is for me! So, as we roll into a month of wintery nights and frosty mornings, I hope that boyfriend!jungkook can bring you comfort 🫶🏻. Your feedback will be appreciated & happy reading 🦢!

The pale light of an early winter afternoon filters through the frosted windows, casting a cool, silvery glow across your cozy apartment. The faint rustle of an icy breeze stirs the heavy curtains, their edges lifting slightly to allow the crisp, earthy scent of the season to seep in.

It is a rare, lazy Sunday morning—perfectly quiet except for the sounds coming from the kitchen, where your boyfriend is busying himself.

Jungkooks back is to you as he moves about with casual grace, preparing something simple yet comforting. You haven’t even asked him what he is cheffing up, knowing he would insist it is a surprise.

The sizzle of food in the pan mixes with the occasional clink of dishes, but the atmosphere itself is quiet, serene. The kind of peace that only comes when two people are so deeply in tune with each other that words are unnecessary.

And that is exactly what life with Jungkook is.

You watch him from the couch, your heart swelling with a mixture of affection and contentment. The past feels like a distant memory, the scars that once felt so raw now healed by the warmth of his love. He had been patient with you. Gentle and understanding. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word had woven you back together, piece by piece, until you felt whole again.

You stretch out with your blanket, trying to relax, but the stack of unmarked essays on the coffee table keep catching your eye. With a resigned sigh, you reach forward, fingertips just brushing through the papers when Jungkook’s voice floats from the kitchen.

“Yah, don’t even think about it,” he calls out, not even bothering to turn around.

You still, knowing you’ve been caught, and huf out a laugh. “How did you even know?”

“Because it’s Sunday and you always try to sneak in grading,” he taunts, still facing the stove as he flips something in a sizzling pan.

What is he even cooking?

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he finishes off before cracking open another window.

“I am resting. I just thought I’d get a head start…” you reply. Though the defense is weak even to your own ears.

“Mhm,” he immediately acknowledges your defence, clearly unconvinced. “What happened to the deal we made a couple of nights ago? Sundays are for us. No grading, no lesson plans, no sneaking off to answer emails.”

Speaking of emails…

“Yah! I know what you’re thinking.”

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning back and propping your chin on your hand. “Yeah, well, you’re one to talk…” Your brain racks for something to taunt Jungkook about.

“Mr. Timer-for-Everything,” you teass, “Bet you’ve already set three timers for each step, haven’t you?”

You could’ve done better than this, but it’ll do.

“Excuse me, but this is a very precise art. Unlike someone, I don’t wing it.” You could almost hear Jungkook’s smile as he stirred the contents of his pan.

You grin yourself. “So precise that you can catch me reaching for my work without looking?”

Jungkook sets the spatula down and finally turns around, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

Oh, his beautiful face.

“I’m good like that, babe.” He wipes his hands on a towel and walks over, stopping just in front of the couch. “Now, hand over the papers.”

You hold them closer to your chest in mock defiance, eyes twinkling. “Make me.”

Jungkook shakes his head, amusement dancing in his gaze, as he leans down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

The warmth of it had barely registered before he begins to pull away, but you quickly hook your arms around his neck, pulling him back down and deepening the kiss.

His mouth is warm and soft, and just as you feel him starting to reciprocate it with his usual energy, Jungkook pulls back with a reluctant laugh.

“Ah—wait, wait,” your boyfriend chuckles, breaking free as you frown. “My timer for the onions is about to go off.”

You snort as he scurries back to the stove, shaking your head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe you time every single step. It’s like cooking is a military operation for you.”

Jungkook flashes a smile over his bare shoulder. You almost feel guilty for wearing his t-shirt, but the breathtaking view of his back makes you feel otherwise.

“Hey, it’s a form of respect for the ingredients, you know? Plus, this way I know it’ll taste good.” He glances at the sizzling onions with a contented look, before turning back to you, more serious. “Just like you know taking a break makes you a better teacher, so… no more work today, okay?”

If only your school cared this much about your wellbeing.

You bits back a smile at his soft, affectionate tone. “Okay, okay. You win.”

You were truly so blessed to have Jungkook in your life. A million reminders will never be enough.

Satisfied, Jungkook sends a boyish grin your way before returning his attention to the stove, a sense of warmth filling the room as the smell of caramelising onions and spices floated through the air. As you watch him, you feel your heart swell a little.

Sundays like this weren’t just a break—they were a reminder of everything you shared. And maybe, just maybe, that was worth more than any head start on grading.

An hour had passed and you had become bored of endlessly scrolling through TikTok. Having tried reading a book, browsing through Netflix and messaging your friends, you decided to settle for your favourite pastime. Ogling your beloved boyfriend.

Jungkook must have sensed your gaze because he turned around, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What?” he asks, his voice a low, affectionate rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

“Just admiring the view,” you respond, grinning as you stretched lazily on the couch. The sunset lamplight caught in your hair, giving you an ethereal glow that makes his heart skip a beat.

He chuckles, before putting away the last dish and making his way over to you. Jungkook had insisted that he would wash the dishes today as well, not letting you lift a finger.

“I think that’s my line,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. His kiss is slow, lingering, and filled with unspoken promises. Exactly what you needed before.

When he pulls back, his dark eyes search yours, as if he is still trying to comprehend how someone like you could love him so completely. You cup his soft face, thumb brushing lightly over the scar on his cheekbone. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, his voice full of emotion. “I love you more.”

The two of you stay like that for a moment, simply basking in each other’s presence, the world outside forgotten. Flirtatious gazes being exchanged, having an effect on both of you even years later.

Eventually, Jungkook slides onto the couch beside you, pulling you into his lap with a playful tug. You laugh, the sound bright and carefree, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you close.

You trace the tattoos on his arm with your fingertips, your touch feather-light. Each mark tells a story, and you loved how they were a part of him, just like you were now. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “Desserts almost ready, but it can wait,” he mumbles, his voice thick with the lazy drawl of a man completely at ease.

Dessert. Yes, you heard that right. Jungkook had spoilt you so much. What had you done to deserve him?

You nod in agreement, turning your head just enough to catch his lips in another kiss. This one is deeper, more insistent, as if he was trying to convey everything he felt for you in that single moment. His hands move to your waist, holding you tight, and you feel the heat of his body seeping into yours, a comforting presence that grounds you.

The warmth of the fireplace fills the room, wrapping around you like a blanket, and the world outside faded even further. All that matters is the two of you, lost in the quiet rhythm of your breaths, the gentle hum of life moving around you.

Jungkook’s kisses grow more urgent, his hands wandering, exploring, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You feel a familiar warmth pool in your stomach, a spark igniting between you that has nothing to do with the setting sun. He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in soft, ragged bursts.

“Stay with me?” he asks, his voice a soft plea, his eyes coloured with emotion.

“Always,” you whisper back, your heart racing in time with his. You now feel the early winter chill spilling from the cracks in your window sill, but it doesn’t matter. With Jungkook, every chill and every breeze feels like a form of comfort.

He kisses you again, and this time there is no mistaking the intent behind it. His hands moved with a newfound urgency, tugging gently at your clothes, (his t-shirt) and you feel yourself responding in kind, your body melting against his. There’s something intoxicating about the way Jungkook touches you, so reverent, and so completely in love.

Jungkook’s fingers trace lazy patterns along your back as he pulled you closer, his gaze warm and heavy-lidded. You were both tangled up in each other, basking in the soft glow of fireplace. He lets out a sigh, his hand pausing.

“I really, really want to keep this going…” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But I keep smelling the onions from earlier.”

You blink, caught off-guard, and feel your face flush. “Then… well, go shower,” you reply, stumbling over your words. “It’s fine! There’s, um… the whole evening left.”

“Whole evening left for what?” Jungkook flirts.

“Yah~”

Jungkook laughs, giving you a look, before his lips curve up in that signature teasing smile of his. “Or…” he begins, voice laced with suggestion, “you can just join me?”

Your face heats even more, and you bite your lip, looking away. “I—uh—I mean…”

He laughs, tipping his head to the side to catch your eye. “Come on, jagi. You don’t have to be shy with me,” he says softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Besides, I think you need a break from that whole evening plan you’re making in your head.”

You let out a breathy laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “Oh, so you know my plans now?”

Jungkook nods, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “I can read you like a book,” he mutters, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss just below your jaw. “And right now, that book is saying… maybe a shower with my hot and sexy boyfriend wouldn’t be so bad.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at his goofiness, but you feel yourself melting under his gaze. His hand slips into yours as he sits up, pulling you with him to head upstairs.

“After all,” he says with a playful glint in his eye, “we do have the whole evening left.”

“Why is this still on?” Jungkook grunts, walking you backwards into the running shower as he practically rips off your t-shirt.

His t-shirt.

You gasp, the cold finally hitting you. Jungkook smirks seeing the shirt on the floor. He was in for a ride.

His hand tightly grips your jaw in place, noses touching as his hot, minty breath fans your face. His mouth captures yours in a fast, rhythmic movement as he undoes your red lace bra he chose himself earlier today.

All you had done was suggest there was a whole evening left. And now?

Now, you are watching your boyfriend hiss in delight as he feels the warm water run over his sore muscles. Jungkook throws his head back, groaning as he presses your naked self closer to his toned body.

He turns back to stare down at you, sending a wink your way before he dips his head into the junction of your head and shoulder, pressing slow and sensual kisses up your skin. You moan whilst craning your neck, craving more of his sinful mouth as his veiny hands wrap around you.

Jungkook unhurriedly drags his tongue up your pulse point, spontaneously biting down as you reel. He continues pressing gentle kisses until he reaches your ear.

“My baby’s enjoying this, isn’t she?” he whispers with his mellifluous voice, knowing how sensitive it makes you. It sends a shiver down your spine, eyes shutting tightly which only spurs Jungkook on further. “Guess I’ve found a better form of stress relief for you. I should’ve known.”

You purr when he takes your earlobe between his plush lips, suckling the soft flesh in his hot mouth. He doesn’t miss the chance to breathe into your ear again, knowing it’ll only arouse you further.

Jungkook grabs your ass, pulling you closer. His semi-hard cock rubs against your stomach, eliciting heat to run through your core. You reach for his hair, pulling at it as you yearn for more. He groans, backing away from your neck, hovering his lips against yours. He pecks you twice before taking both of your hands and pinning them against the steamy shower wall.

You glance up to your restrained hands, pouting at not being able to touch Jungkook. He notices your pursed lips, smiling to himself at your cuteness before letting them go and cascading his own down your body to your backside.

“Can we fuck?” he asks you shamelessly as he kneads your ass with his rough hands.

“You know it’s never a no from me, baby,” you tip-toe, whispering into his ear. About time you gave him the same energy back.

You run your fingers up and down his biceps with a knowing smirk.

“God, I missed this,” he rasps in his husky voice before reaching down to kiss you intensely. Jungkook touches you all over as he grinds his built, wet body against yours in the most seductive way. The scorch water cascades down his body making him look hotter than usual.

“We literally just had sex yesterday ,” you snort whilst pulling away from him.

Jungkook isn’t pleased with your comment and he shows this by diving for your neck and biting, making you moan indulgently in his hold. Your knees buckle, but his strong grip on your hips stops you from slipping.

“Fuck, babe,” you groan out as the sting spreads. You dig your nails into his toned arms, letting him know how good you feel. Jungkook removes his mouth from your pulse point, instead pressing soft kisses against your jawline, contradicting his previous ministrations.

“You always taste so good,” he hoarsely whispers, “I’ll never get enough of you,” he adds before he joins your lips again. Jungkook mouths at you sensually, kissing you with an insatiable force that leaves you breathless when you pull away.

You throw your head back, arching into him. Jungkook knows you need more and smirks at you falling into your usual state of submission around him.

“Wan’ more,” you whine. Jungkook reaches forward and presses kisses against the column of your throat. You drag your nails down his chest, evoking a playful growl from your boyfriend.

“More?” Jungkook teases you. You quickly nod, moaning his name, hoping it would provoke him to provide you with the relief you desperately need.

Jungkook brings his tattooed hand to cup your breast in his palm, eliciting another needy moan from you. He hisses pleasurably at your lewd sigh as you twitch in his hold.

“All mine to play with, huh?” he whispers in his low-pitched voice as he fondles your breast, dipping his head down to them to press open-mouthed kisses.

Jungkook decorates your skin with dark, flourishing hickies and you can only hope that they fade before you have to return to your responsibilities.

You feel Jungkook lightly smirk against you when you let out a sultry sound.

“My sensitive princess,” he says as his breath tickles your ear, leaving you to feel more aroused and dizzy.

You physically feel your pussy gush as your body buzzes due to the unmitigated affect your lover has on you.

“Kook, please,” you whine loudly, needing to feel him inside you before you combust untouched. You crave for this man as if you haven’t just been having sex from the moment he carried you inside your bathroom.

“Wanna turn around so I can fuck my princess how she deserves to be fucked?” he sighs out against your lips before joining them together for the umpteenth time that day.

You move your hands to cup Jungkook’s cheeks whilst you gaze at him with imploring eyes, showing him immediately that you’re extremely needy.

“You’re so fucking hot, babe,” he exhales wistfully, smothering his lips with yours again for an all too chaste kiss.

Jungkook tilts his head further to nibble on your plush lower lip, his skillful tongue.

“Want you in me, baby,” you prompt him urgently, “wan’ your big cock.”

Jungkook is quick to comply, hastily tightening his grip on your waist, “Go on then baby, turn around for me.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice, shifting so your face presses to the fogged wall of the shower. You glance over your shoulder fleetingly, admiring your boyfriend’s personable build.

His perfectly sculpted body that glistens underneath the water, jet black hair cut sexily short, beautifully tattooed arm and damn eyebrow piercing he got recently has you feeling giddy all over again, the same intoxicating effect from your college days together.

You can’t wait to marry this man.

Jungkook sweeps his wet hair back and you moan again, the heat of the shower water making him more delectable than before. The most erotic thoughts flood your mind and you grow more impatient, anticipating his next move.

He catches you staring at him and a mirthy smile graces his face as he grabs hold of his length, pumping himself a few times. His tip painfully glints a burning red and it leaves a heavy ache in your core, making you press your legs together to provide yourself with temporary relief.

Jungkook catches you off-guard, grabbing hold of your hips and yanking you back so your ass presses against him. You jump at his sudden attack, peeking behind only to see him wear a shit-eating grin on his face.

He drags the palm of his large hand down your smooth back, relishing in your silky smooth skin. “So fucking sexy,” he mutters, “and all mine.”

Reaching for your ass, he slaps it playfully, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

“Kook, please,” you groan out of frustration. He softly apologises before rubbing his hard-on against your ass, stepping closer to press the length of his girthy cock against your soaked folds. The sensation is strong enough to bring you back to reality.

Jungkook is going to fuck you and fuck you good.

Your legs part on their own as you arch your back, offering your ass to your husband shamelessly.

Jungkook curses at the salacious scene before him, pressing his cock further into you and somehow growing harder.

“Fucking incredible,” he rasps with his mellow voice, “ready?”

“Jus’ fuck me, Kook. You’ve got me all soaked.”

“Fuck, so hot,” Jungkook groans as he rubs the tip of his hard cock up and down your dripping pussy. He reaches your hole, teasing it as you moan for him to give you more.

“Gonna stretch you out so good, baby,” he mumbles more to himself, goading you with a gentle pressure that’s enough to rile you up.

“Quickly,” you urge him once again by arching more and wiggling your ass against him, tired of his unnecessary teasing.

Your boyfriend finally decides to push against you, sliding his cock past your folds, burying himself deep within you. The two of you groan at the lewd feeling.

Jungkook lets out a guttural moan as he watches the view of him entering your tight pussy. He hears you let out the most sinful sounds as you bask in the feeling of him filling you up whole.

“Jungkoook...”

“Fuck, the way you moan my name,” he breathes out as he buries himself to the hilt, hips rolling into you with the deepest of strokes.

Jungkook fits into you snuggly, grinding in you with small and precise thrusts. His fingers dig into your hips, his eyes fixated on the soft and plump swell of your ass.

He groans satisfyingly, watching his cock slip in and out of you easily, hard thighs rubbing against the back of yours in the most euphoric way.

“J-Jungkook, fuck, always so big.” You whimper, your entire body craving more of him.

“But my good girl takes it so well, doesn’t she?” he praises you, shutting his eyes underneath the hot, steamy water. Jungkook gasps, dipping his head into your shoulder and letting it rest there as he begins to smack his hips into yours relentlessly. He feels your walls flutter and tries hard to contain his load and not shoot it inside you just yet.

“Moree..” you plead, body shaking with utmost pleasure.

Jungkook complies, going deeper as he hits the best spots inside you. You press your temple against the tiled wall as he fucks you with languid, steady strokes. You feel his cock throb inside you, moaning his name again.

“Harder..” you mewl, compelling him to growl as he provides you with forceful thrusts, letting out the most animalistic of growls when he hears you cry out in delight. His tattooed arm reaches forward, veiny hand gripping your breast, pinching your hardened nipple as he presses sloppy kisses just behind your ear.

“Gonna fuck you so hard everyday,” Jungkook pants, thrusting with more fidelity as your walls pulse around him, “for your wellbeing of course,” he swears breathlessly.

You’re so caught up in being pleasured, you don’t even laugh at his joke.

He knows you are getting close and snakes his other hand down to your clit, rubbing vigorously as he drives you closer towards the edge, eliciting the most whiny moans out from you.

“Mmm, Koo’ you feel so, so good,” you cry out as he rams his cock further into your wet mess, groaning at the sensation. His delicious abuse on your engorged clit makes you hiss out in pleasure.

“Your wet pussy feels so good, baby,” Jungkook moans out as he continues his onslaught, pulling you back onto him.

“Holy shit, Jungkook,” you whine, knees buckling at the savouring drag of his appetising length.

“Right there, baby?”

“Oh God, yea..” you moan, nodding your head incessantly.

You mewl again, arousal spilling out of you, but Jungkook fucks it right back in. He pinches your nipple again whilst simultaneously teasing your clit. Jungkook sucks a hickey on your shoulder blade, cum aching his heavy balls as he pumps into your soaked walls.

You throw your head back onto his shoulder, stretching your hand to tug at the short tendrils of his hair. Jungkook knows exactly what you mean without you having said any words.

“Wann’ see you, baby,” you whimper, “need to feel you more..”

Jungkook groans at your neediness, pulling out of you fairly quickly, both of you wincing at the loss of warmth. He wastes no time in turning you around and lifting you up, deeply penetrating you again as he continues with the same, brisk pace as before. You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you so your foreheads touch.

“All mine,” he growls, “only mine.”

“Only yours, baby,” you purr, “all yours to fuck.”

Jungkook moans deeper as you begin to grind against him, clinging onto him firmly as you attempt to alleviate the burning pressure that shoots through your core. He knows you’re closer than ever, hearing your moans turn into gasps.

“Fill me up first, babe,” you manage to whimper out of yourself. You crave to feel full of his cum, squeezing against him to urge him more.

“Ah shit!” he grunts, orgasm hitting him as his hot cum shoots inside you, painting your insides white, shoving his face in your shoulder.

Jungkook sneaks his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him as he repeatedly pecks your pulse point. He is mindful of your sensitivity, allowing you to relax before he picks up his pace again.

“Wanna ruin you, my love.”

You’re at a loss of words, the only thing on your mind being that you’re once again being fucked full of Jungkook’s cum. He reaches down to place more hickies on your neck as his eyes remain glued to where you both connect. He watches your stomach clench and relax with pleasure, throbbing hard he fears he might shoot his second load into you before you can have your first release.

You sob and wail, clutching onto him further. Jungkook snakes his hand back down to your clit, rubbing against it as he tries to urge you to squirt around his cock.

“Close?” he asks you as he grunts, rubbing your clit harder and faster. You inform him yes through quick nods, eyebrows furrowing as the pleasure overtakes you completely.

“Come all over me, angel. All over my cock,” he demands with a growl against your open mouth, rutting against you in a frantic manner.

You clench down on him as you release with a mix of your boyfriend’s names and curse words. You ride out your climax with him and he puts less pressure on your clit as he watches you in your throes of pleasure.

His confidence shoots up, smirking at the way you scream his name over and over whilst squirting out both his and your mess.

“Fuck, that was incredible.” You’re breathless as you carefully slip out of his hold, leaning against his broad chest for support.

Jungkook pulls you into him, pressing soft kisses against the crown of your head as he praises you for how good you were for him. Your chest swells with pride, feeling shy as you curve further into his warm body.

He reaches to turn the shower off, dipping his head down to litter soft kisses over the hickies he made. You pull him back to face you with his hair and he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

You feel him still slightly hard against your stomach and chuckle to yourself.

“Wanna fuck me again, baby?” you ask him with suggestive eyes, “Bedroom though, I can’t stand here any longer.”

Jungkook gulps, nodding his head fervently.

“Fuck, you’re in for it, Mrs. Jeon,” is all that leaves his mouth. You become shy as you hear you favourite nickname.

Jungkook flashes you his signature smirk before abruptly lifting you and taking you towards your shared bedroom, whispering all he’s going to do to you.

The things you do before Sunday ends.

Thank you for reading 🦢! Please do leave me some feedback; it motivates me to write 🫶🏻. Have a lovely week ahead. Sundays can be so difficult for me, so I hope this makes you feel better if you also get the Sunday scaries :)

[robolvrr]

f-r-e-a-k !‿⁠✷｡✧

lost light members react to human porn (and develop some preferences of their own.)

ft. skids! megatron! rodimus! swerve! ultra magnus!

nsfw under the cut.

rodimus prime - top-five ranked

when he first heard actual, genuine human content had reached aboard his ship, he had quickly formed a half-assed meeting to announce that he, of course, being captain and all should review with ultra magnus.. and perhaps rewind too, before dispersing it out to the crew.

of course when ultra magnus expressed his surprise at this new leaf turned, eager to scour through intergalactic protocol he simply let one word out the other audial and made some grave, grammatical errors to distract the mech and let the captain do his own decision making.

he spends a lot of time nitpicking. he doesn't like movies as much so he reserves those to swerve nor does he care too much about books.

a functioning computer however....

he's bored. and curious. two demons that never dwell well together in the same room.

clearing browser history? never heard of that!

good thing the previous owner has lots of bookmarks, because he finds it infinitely easier to sift through links there than carefully type.

"porn...hub? what's that? must be some kinda uh.. uhhh... uh."

cue the fan whirring. he's hunched over and slack jawed, staring at the frankly color-clashing archive and almost pushing himself away when the cursor hovers over a video - and the humans in it start moving.

clicked the first video with a bold "#1 ranked". he really shouldn't. he really, really should just toss this tempting contraband out the nearest garbage disposal.

"unhh! harder! haaarder! ♡"

he's focused hard on the spike - cock, he learns, or dick, humans got lots of funny terms - ruts rough into you, forcing you to melt forward and squeak through sheets.

the loud, exaggerated moans make him pitifully decide otherwise. imagine him, all weak in the knees, sliding down to sit as he watches transfixed.

flesh on flesh hitting sounds a lot better when it's this and not fighting.

sooner or later, he's huffing into his servo, jacking off his spike and squeezing the tip so rough he's almost jealous seeing you bouncing away. you'd be so, so fragging soft. he can imagine squeezing your limbs and twisting you around to his liking.

overloads fast. he's almost ashamed enough to be embarrassed.

now? can't reach his climaxes unless there's some raunchy, wet-coated squeals in his memory banks. doesn't bother searching up anything because he doesn't have the patience to cultivate. you just happen to be at the top so he gladly sticks watching your holes get sticky any cycle.

skids - playboy bunny

"oh for prime's sake, chromedome don't make me feel like i'm trading for somethin' illegal."

won a "mystery stash" from a late night gamble. of course, not all of rodimus's finds stayed quiet.

he isn't sure why it's such a big deal. the cardboard box which spills open easily under a digit's care isn't filled with weaponry or bombs.

it's almost funny, this giant picking up a magazine in a pinch, helm tilted and keeping it an arm's distance away like the pages might bite.

he looks at the front cover for a long, long time.

his processor isn't catching up. then he squints. gets reaaaaal close.

there's you! all dolled up, as the humans would say. except you're really not, because half of your squishy aft is out, and your servos are covering up your chest but aren't doing a good job.

neither is the bright, blue bow christened at your pelvic area, where he realizes with a jolt is lacking any modesty panels of any kind.

flips a page. oh, it's you again. curved over a lounge. cheekily spreading yourself with a... gathering of lace twisted around your frame.

another one. you got something round in your mouth. he looks carefully at your lips.

and then he's flipping through all of it, and digging into the box and oh, he's found a jackpot because it's all you.

now he understands why it's got the markered "collectors items" on the side. he doesn't question too much when he spits lubricant down onto his spike. dedicated some of that cotton candy gossamer all over your february edition of playboy in approval.

megatron - classic erotica

a true mech of literature. now, unlike many of the lost light, he's had his run in with humanity before. not that he particularly got or wanted to enjoy their culture back then.

though when he did find his way back onto a possible path of redemption, he did indulge once upon a time.

at his spark, he's a poet. a linguist. enjoyer of golden age, art and craftsmanship.

earthen literature has its.. moments. he reads novellas and lost to the history manuscripts, plays, all of which have almost all been uploaded to more convenient means as upkeep for the paper is a pain.

however, he has found one book. a funny looking book, with a funny looking cover.

he observes, rigidly, the scandalous embrace of what he assumed to be the characters, how clothing lacked in areas it shouldn't and skin was almost.. glistening. "seven nights of passion." a chuff left his dermas.

ah, to pit with it. why not?

megatron finds himself slowly involved with the chapters despite the comedy of its advertisement. the writer, you, no doubt under a penname, push development shockingly far.. for a human.

and the intimacy? interfacing? so descriptive. while he has not seen what he is reviewing, he can imagine it. images of sweaty bodies, grinding and yearning and crying.

cybertronians have no reason or function to. the thought of a human, pushed to the brink overloaded with stimulation is... stimulating.

it is a shame when it comes to an end but he might in his free-time peruse for more. leaves his plating warm and intake dry.

the authors note suggests that your inspiration drives from personal experience.

his ... array fizzles at that. fascinating.

swerve - r-rated movie night

"wowza. that's hh. haha. woah! they all do that.. ?"

first movie he flipped onto the projector was supposed to be an "action and feel-good film with hints of romance, angst and sci-fi elements."

not even halfway through, you, the imaginary captain of the imaginary "roman's ravager" have your uniform shimmied down to your ankles, mouth mashing against your supposed rival, who everyone has been heckling for the past forty-five minutes.

some of the mechs cheer, other grumble and argue to skip, others squirm and grimace. swerve watched you push the other down, head tilting back as the camera zooms to your face.

"it's just acting, ya' degenerates, stop acting like protoforms!"

it isn't until he feels a servo smack upside his helm that he starts fumbling for the remote. too much noise but now he's getting a comm from mags asking about what the rackets for so! fast forward he goes.

at 1x.

while the chaos starts to settle, he peeks between digits. catches glimpses of your open mouth. the goosebumps down your chest. how you shake at the insinuation that someone is between your legs, servicing.

slag. when's the last time he's even played with his valve?

movie night was a hit regardless of the commotion. he has to clean up after, which thankfully didn't result in any expelled energon or skid-marks.

that also means he's alone. alone, in his bar. all by himself, staring at the rest of the discs with your pictures on the front, credits humming in the background.

it'll be good for the economy. (all of it is pirated.)

maybe it's for the best. because now, he's realizing you really are a great actor, in lots of different genres, able to adapt and really grab his attention.

it's not as if his spark pulses seeing you in costumes, or using that soft voice you do in all your roles when you make a point.

not like he's riding his digits and crunching into a fist when you're running on the beach, sand dappled and leaving little to imagination.

ends up on his back, charged up and shaking. hurts to speak, to move or to dab up the puddle of transfluid, laughing deliriously when his panels are even too much effort to close.

ultra magnus - audio praise

"you're doing such a good job. you're perfect. you know that, right? yes you do, so good for me."

when he first heard you, he damn near crushes the auditory device and full-blown shudders in the confines of his hab. he's sputtering, optics wide and there's a million reasons he should report this to rodimus and question just what he's given him.

"to help ya uh... research? take the edge off pal."

half-contemplates storming back to the bridge himself if it weren't for your sugar-coated mumbles still coming through the unpaused recording.

you'd think he was dealing with a ticking blast with how he warily handles the device, gruffly spitting out curses that he'd otherwise never allow in crew vicinity.

"i want you to reward yourself. you earned it, honey. can you do that for me? here, listen."

to his horror - and crumbling interest - a slick cacophony of sound rattles in his helm. there's panting, a shift of material that he assumes is tangled around you and frag, he's able to think up you and a thousand faces.

what's worse? is he's hypnotized. you don't demand. you coo to him, just loud enough to let him know you'd be broken too. if he let himself let down that wall, just for the twenty minutes you sing in his audials, he'll know it's done with you just as weak.

"g—gooood job ahhhh!" that does it. ultra magnus groans, shutting off his optics entirely. his large servo feels up along his frame as you suggest.

"i wish you were here. hah.. mmn! could see me. see me fucking myself to you. let you kiss me. you deserve it, sweetie. deserve me on you."

magnus and the sobbed growl to his motors reminds him just how lonely he's felt. always monitoring. always stressed. hearing the spit collect at your throat as your commands grow hoarse makes you feel real.

would you... would you kiss him? would you let him pick you up, rest you flat on his servo and have his glossa lap up your want?

he towers over nearly all. having a partner so much smaller, tinier than even an minibot, shouldn't run up a charge but it does.

he overloads when he's sticking digits near the casing of his spark, ignoring the spurts of pre sizzling down his thighs.

"w-was that as fun.. for you as it was for me?"

dazedly falls onto his berth. this isn't leaving his dermas unless he's had a drink.

a/n : a little haha funny idea i had. there's just something so funny thinking of these giant old robots realizing just how much porn is out there.

[reaper2187]

Caitlyn kiramman x female reader

The escape plan

Ghosts of the Past

The safe house Caitlyn had arranged was a modest hideout on the outskirts of Piltover. It was quiet, secluded, and far enough from prying eyes to allow them time to regroup.

Y/N stood at the window, gazing out at the city lights in the distance. Her posture was relaxed, but her mind was far from still. Vi sat at the small table, drumming her fingers anxiously, while Caitlyn was in the corner, tinkering with her rifle.

The silence stretched until Vi finally spoke. “You’re gonna tell me what’s going on, right? About Jhin?”

Y/N’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though her gaze remained fixed on the window. “You really want to open that box, Vi?”

“Yes,” Vi said firmly, leaning forward. “You disappeared for years, and now I find out you have a brother—a brother who’s infamous, by the way. How does that even work?”

Caitlyn looked up, intrigued. “You’re Jhin’s sister?”

Y/N sighed, turning to face them. “Jhin and I...we’re complicated. He’s my brother, yes, but we’re not close in the traditional sense. We share a bond, but it’s one built on understanding, not affection.”

“What kind of understanding?” Caitlyn asked, her tone cautious.

Y/N stepped closer to the table, her expression unreadable. “We both see death as more than an end. For Jhin, it’s art—a masterpiece to be created with precision and care. For me...it’s a host. Something inevitable, something I’ve embraced. Death isn’t cruel or kind. It simply is.”

Vi frowned, her frustration evident. “That doesn’t explain why you never told me about him.”

Y/N’s gaze softened, a rare flicker of vulnerability breaking through. “Because it wasn’t your burden to carry, Vi. Jhin and I have our own paths, our own ways of dealing with the world. Bringing you into that would’ve only made things harder.”

As the conversation settled, Caitlyn found herself drawn to Y/N’s perspective. “You speak about death as if it’s a friend.”

“In a way, it is,” Y/N replied, leaning against the wall. “You’d be surprised how much clarity it brings. Most people fear it, run from it, but it’s the one constant we all share.”

Caitlyn studied her, her curiosity growing. “And Jhin? Does he share that clarity?”

Y/N’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Jhin sees the beauty in it, the symmetry. For him, every kill is a performance, a statement. I respect that, even if I don’t always agree with his methods.”

“You respect him?” Vi asked, disbelief lacing her voice. “The guy’s a psycho.”

“Maybe,” Y/N admitted, shrugging. “But he’s also a genius. You can’t deny that.”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Y/N’s words settling over them. Caitlyn found herself wondering what it would be like to see the world through Y/N’s eyes—a world where death wasn’t something to fear but something to understand.

Later that night, while Caitlyn and Vi were sleeping, Y/N sat alone by the window. The faint hum of the city outside was a stark contrast to the stillness of the room. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, intricately folded piece of paper.

Unfolding it, she found a single line written in Jhin’s precise, elegant handwriting: “Every stage needs its performer, sister. When will you embrace yours?”

Y/N smirked, the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes. Jhin always had a flair for the dramatic. She folded the paper carefully and tucked it back into her pocket, her thoughts drifting to their shared past.

Jhin had always been the artist, the perfectionist. Even as children, he had a fascination with detail, with creating something beautiful out of chaos. Y/N, on the other hand, had been the realist, the pragmatist. Where Jhin sought beauty, she found purpose. Their views aligned just enough to coexist but diverged enough to keep them apart.

The next morning, Caitlyn found Y/N sitting on the steps outside the safe house, her expression distant. She hesitated for a moment before joining her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Caitlyn asked.

Y/N shook her head. “Too much on my mind.”

Caitlyn sat beside her, her rifle resting across her lap. “I’ve been trying to figure you out.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Good luck with that.”

“You’re not what I expected,” Caitlyn admitted. “When Vi mentioned you, I thought you’d be...different.”

“Different how?”

“Angrier. Bitter. But you’re...calm. Like you’ve made peace with everything.”

Y/N turned to her, her gaze piercing. “Making peace doesn’t mean forgetting. I’ve done things I can’t undo, Caitlyn. But I’ve also accepted that those things are part of who I am.”

Caitlyn nodded slowly, her respect for Y/N growing. “You and Jhin...do you think you’ll ever see him again?”

“Probably,” Y/N said with a faint smile. “Our paths tend to cross when we least expect it.”

Caitlyn hesitated before asking, “And when they do, what happens?”

Y/N’s expression softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability breaking through. “That depends on him.”

As the days passed, the group worked on building a plan to stay ahead of the enforcers who were undoubtedly hunting them. Y/N proved invaluable, her experience and resourcefulness keeping them one step ahead.

Despite her initial reservations, Caitlyn found herself drawn to Y/N—not just her skills but the quiet strength beneath her stoic exterior. There was a complexity to her, a depth that Caitlyn couldn’t help but admire.

Vi, too, seemed to be healing. Though she and Y/N still had their differences, the bond they shared was undeniable. They often sparred in the mornings, their playful banter a reminder of the sibling-like relationship they had once shared.

But the shadow of Jhin lingered over them all, an unspoken reminder of the danger that still lay ahead.

Hope you enjoy part 4 someday now, if you have any requests send them my way, and ye hope you like it

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 5

AN: I’m trying to write consistent enough so I can publish at least once a day. Can you guys leave live reactions and comments so I know what people like/don’t like and which direction I should go!

TW: Verbal abuse, mention of death

Word Count: 3.3k

The hum of conversation filled the athletic lunchroom as different teams gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories. Paige sat with KK and Ice, her tray of food untouched. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts completely occupied.

KK nudged Ice with a smirk. The two of them trying to figure out who’s going to break the ice with the senior. KK decides to speak, “Alright, Paige, spill it. What was up with you and Azzi the other night? The tension was crazy.”

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah,it was impossible not to notice. Your eyes were glued to her all night.”

Paige’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her tray. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” KK chimed in, laughing. “You were raking her over like she was the last piece of dessert. And don’t even get me started on how you two just happened to disappear together.”

“And when you came back?” Ice added, raising an eyebrow. “Both of you looked flustered. Something definitely went down.”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

KK grinned, leaning forward. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious there’s something there. So, what’s the deal?”

Paige sighed, her hands dropping to the table. “Look, what happened that night stays between me and Azzi. That’s all you’re getting.”

KK crossed her arms, giving Paige a mock glare. “Girl boo, keep your secrets. But you’re not fooling anyone. I know something happened”

For a moment, Paige stayed quiet. Then her expression softened, her voice dropping. “I really like her,” she admitted feeling vulnerable.

KK’s teasing demeanor shifted to curiosity. “Like, really like her?”

Paige hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... maybe even something more.” Her eyes grew distant as her thoughts drifted to Azzi, her best friend for years. Memories flooded in—late-night talks, shared victories, moments where Azzi’s laughter had been the only thing to pull her out of a funk. It all swirled together, making her chest ache in the best way.

KK and Ice exchanged a look, their teasing forgotten.

“Wow,” Ice said softly. “That’s serious. So why haven’t you made a move?”

Paige sighed again, leaning back. “Azzi and I talked about it. We’re waiting until I can break things off with Jess. She’ll be back soon, and I owe her that conversation first.”

KK frowned. “That’s... responsible, I guess. But it sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” Paige said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Azzi’s intoxicating. When we’re together, it’s like nothing else matters. But I want to do this right. Azzi deserves it”

Ice reached over, squeezing Paige’s arm, surprisingly being serious for once. “You’re doing the right thing. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

KK nodded. “Yeah. We’re here for you, P Boogers. And honestly? We’re rooting for you and Azzi. After all I need my parents together”

Paige chuckles slightly and smiles, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, guys. I just hope I don’t lose my mind in the meantime.”

KK chuckled. “You got this. But hey, if you ever need to vent, we’re all ears.”

…

The rhythmic thud of the basketball echoed through the empty gym as Paige sprinted from one end of the court to the other, her breathing heavy and her shirt clinging to her from sweat. Each shot she took landed clean, the ball swishing through the net. She wasn’t keeping score—she was too lost in her own head. Her emotions were a storm: guilt over Jess, frustration with herself, and that overwhelming pull toward Azzi that she could no longer ignore.

Her muscles burned, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The gym was the only place where she could let everything out without saying a word.

Azzi stepped through the gym doors quietly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the familiar figure of Paige moving across the court. She lingered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching Paige in her element. The 6'1 blonde was a force, her movements fluid, her focus intense.

Azzi smirked. There was something captivating about Paige when she was like this, pouring all her energy into the game. After a few moments of quiet admiration, Azzi decided to approach, her footsteps light as she sauntered across the gym floor. “You trying to make the hoop fall in love with you too?

Paige startled slightly, not fully processing what the younger girl said, stops mid-dribble throwing Azzi a half-smile. “Just needed to work some things out.” She bounced the ball once more before tucking it into her arm..

Azzi smirked, stepping closer. “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

Paige shrugged, her eyes dropping to the ball in her hands. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently taking the ball from Paige and setting it aside. “Or maybe you just need a better distraction.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You offering?”

“Always,” Azzi said, her voice playful but her expression serious. She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against Paige’s. Without hesitation, she intertwined their fingers, giving Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture was simple but grounding, and Paige felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She glanced down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice softer now. “You’ve got this look on your face, like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. What’s going on, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, her thumb unconsciously brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “It’s...complicated.”

Azzi smiled gently. “When isn’t it?” She leaned in slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek—the same spot she has been gravitating towards lately when she wanted to offer comfort without pushing too far. “Take your time. I’m here.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the warmth of Azzi’s kiss lingering. “You make it sound so easy.”

Azzi chuckled. “That’s because you make everything else look so hard.” She squeezed Paige’s hand again, her thumb now drawing small circles against Paige’s skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, you know.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze meeting Azzi’s. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Azzi said, her smirk returning. “But seriously, Paige. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, the weight of Azzi’s words settling in her chest. “Thanks, Az,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning in just a bit closer. “Anytime, P.”

For a while, they stood there, the only sound the faint creak of the gym floor beneath their feet. Azzi finally broke the silence, her tone lighter. “You know, as much as I love seeing you like this—sweaty and intense—you really should take a break. Recharge that beautiful brain of yours.”

Paige chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, grinning. “But that’s why you love me.”

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, Azzi gave her hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I can tell you’re not done. Meet me later?”

Paige nodded, her voice quiet. “Yeah. Like always.”

Azzi winked before turning to leave, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the gym doors. Paige stared after her, her hand still warm where Azzi’s fingers had been. She knew she wasn’t ready to say everything yet, but she also knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to let Azzi go.

…

After spending a few more hours in the gym Paige opened the door to her room, expecting a quick stop before heading to Azzi’s, but the moment the light flicked on, her stomach dropped. Jess was sitting on Paige’s bed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from crying.

Paige froze for a moment, a knot forming in her throat. The sight was unexpected. “Jess?” Paige asked softly, trying to mask her discomfort.

Jess looked up at her, her gaze unfocused, but when she saw Paige, she stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Paige’s heart clenched, but she kept her voice calm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jess’s face crumpled again as she took a breath, barely able to hold it together. “My dad… he passed away,” she whispered. “I had to take a break before the funeral, and I just—everything’s falling apart, Paige. I don’t know who else to turn to. I really need you right now.”

Paige felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. She wanted to be there for Jess, truly, but at the same time, everything inside her screamed that she couldn't keep pretending anymore. She’d been doing that for months now, and the reality of what she’d been hiding, the feelings she’d been trying to push aside, were too strong to ignore.

“Jess, I’m so sorry,” Paige said, her voice soft, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “But I don’t think that’s the best idea… I think we should break up.”

Jess blinked, her face going from shocked disbelief to something darker, a mixture of anger and pain. “You’re kidding, right?” she spat, standing up from the bed, pacing. “You’re doing this now? After everything?” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t take long for the hurt to turn into sharp, biting fury.

“I just—” Paige started, but Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

“You’re fucking heartless, you know that?” Jess’s words sliced through the room, and Paige flinched at the venom in her tone. “I come to you in my worst moment, and you just walk away?” Jess’s eyes were wild with rage now, the tears mixing with her anger. “I’m here grieving, and you’re just dumping me? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know how you’ve been with her? How you’ve been fucking her behind my back?”

Paige’s stomach churned. She never expected the words to sting this much even if they weren’t true, but Jess wasn’t done yet.

“You think I don’t see how you look at her?” Jess continued, stepping forward, her finger jabbing toward Paige in accusation. “You don’t even care about me, do you? You’re just some selfish bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants and leave me hanging when I need you most!”

Paige opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but Jess wasn’t finished.

“Don’t fucking act like you’re the ‘good person’ here,” Jess sneered. “You’re not. You’re just a slut who can’t keep her hands off her best friend. God, I knew I was always second choice to her, but this? You’ve been making excuses for months. You’re such a fucking coward, Paige. You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

Jess’s words hit harder than anything Paige had expected. She stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of each insult. But despite the tears welling up in her eyes, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there stoically, taking it, letting Jess’s words sink in.

“You think you’re better than me, but you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us,” Jess spat, her chest heaving as she took in a breath. “Maybe worse. You’re a fucking liar, Paige. Always have been. Always will be.”

The room fell into an unbearable silence, except for the sound of Jess’s heavy breathing. Her face was twisted in a mix of grief and disgust, and Paige could barely look at her. She wanted to say something—anything—to make this stop, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what felt like the world on her shoulders.

Finally, Jess’s voice broke, though it was laced with rage. “You know what? Fine. You’re done with me. I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re some fucking angel when you’re just as much of a mess as I am. Go to her. Go be with your precious little Azzi. I hope she’s worth it.”

Jess stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door banging against the frame echoed through Paige’s mind like a hammer.

Paige stood there for a moment, her chest tightening, her heart pounding. The silence in the room was deafening. And then, as if on cue, the tears came.

They started slow at first, the first tear falling down her cheek like a steady drip. But once the dam broke, they came in a flood, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the bed.

She just wanted it to stop.

She buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally spilled out. She had waited so long to try and do the right thing. She’d tried to be a good person for Jess, to make things work, she basically forced herself to be with Jess so she wouldn’t be embarrassed but it was never right. Not in the way she felt for Azzi. She had put herself in this impossible position, and now, after everything, she was being told how awful she was for trying to make things right.

Her breath hitched, and the sobs came harder. She slid down onto the bed, curling into herself, trying to catch her breath. Her head spun, and she just wished Azzi was here. She wanted to feel Azzi’s warmth, her gentle touch, something to remind her that she wasn’t as terrible as Jess had made her feel.

…

Azzi paced around her dorm room, glancing at the clock. Paige should’ve been here by now, she had texted Azzi that she was leaving the gym a while ago. Her stomach twisted, a strange unease settling in. She’d tried calling, but Paige didn’t pick up. A flash of worry crept up on her. After a few moments of hesitation, Azzi grabbed her phone and decided to checked Paige’s location—her friend was just a few doors down in her suite.

Something wasn’t right.

Azzi threw on her jacket and grabbed her things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As she started walking toward the door, her phone buzzed. It was Ice.

Azzi’s pulse spiked.

"Hey," Ice’s voice came through the phone, a little strained. "You need to come over. Paige... Paige has been crying. I don’t know what happened, but she won’t talk to me about it."

Azzi didn’t wait for another word. She practically ran out the door, not even bothering to grab her keys as she bolted for Paige’s suite.

When she arrived, Ice was standing by the door, giving her a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She’s in there," Ice said, stepping aside to let Azzi in. "I don’t know what’s going on, but... just be gentle with her, okay? She needs you Azzi."

Azzi nodded, her chest tight as she made her way to Paige’s room. The door was cracked open, and as she stepped inside, the soft glow of the neon lights illuminated the chaos of Paige’s room. Paige was curled up on her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and devastation. The sight alone was enough to break Azzi’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking. She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down beside the blonde, her heart shattering even more when Paige didn’t even look up at her. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Azzi whispered again, slipping into a familiar tone as she reached out to gently touch her friend’s cheek.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. She just sniffled, her body trembling as she fought to hold herself together. Azzi noticed this and, without hesitation, slipped under the blankets next to her. She eased herself into a comfortable position, pulling Paige gently against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the older girl and traced small hearts on her back with her fingers, just trying to offer comfort, to let Paige know she was there.

It didn’t take long for Paige to begin speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jess... Jess came to my room today," she began, her words broken. "Her dad... he passed away. And she was asking me to go with her for the funeral. But I... I couldn’t. I can’t be with her anymore, Azzi. I—" Paige hiccupped on a sob, her voice cracking. "She just... she called me horrible names. Told me I was a player basically, that I’ve been lying to her, that I’m a terrible person. And the worst part is... I kind of believe her. Pretending to like her was selfish."

Azzi’s jaw clenched as she listened. Her heart ached at hearing Paige speak so softly about something so painful. The thought of Jess saying those things to her, especially in such a vulnerable moment, made Azzi furious. She could feel the anger building in her chest, and if she ever saw Jess again, she’d be sure to make her know just how wrong she was.

But that wasn’t her priority now.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige, lifting her chin to make their eyes meet. "Paige, stop. You are not a bad person. You never have been. It’s okay to put yourself first. And you’re not a player for having feelings for someone else. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel good—who makes you feel safe."

Paige’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up again. "I don’t know anymore, Azzi. I just feel... I don’t know who I am."

"Yes, you do," Azzi reassured, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from Paige’s face. "You’re Paige. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re brave. You’ve done everything you can for Jess because you care, but this? This is about you now. You deserve to be loved the way you’ve always dreamed of. And I can’t sit by and let you think you’re anything less than incredible."

After a while Paige finally let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders. Azzi’s words settled in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized just how much she needed this—needed Azzi.

"I’m so sorry, Azzi. Thank you for dealing with me." Paige whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi returned the smile, brushing her lips against Paige’s forehead in a soft kiss. "I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll always be here for you."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost foreign to her after the storm of tears. "You’re such a tease," she murmured, her voice lightening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "What? I’m just showing you some love."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, love, huh? I think you’re a little too comfortable with that, Azzi."

Azzi grinned. "Maybe I just can’t resist you."

Paige’s smile widened, her gaze softening as she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Well, you’ll just have to try harder, then."

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming.

They spent the rest of the evening together, the weight of the world slowly lifting from Paige’s shoulders as they joked, flirted, and just spent time in each other’s company. Eventually, they settled in to watch a movie. Paige’s head rested against Azzi’s shoulder as the movie played, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, a peaceful smile on her face. Azzi kissed her cheek gently, watching her sleep with a tenderness that filled her chest.

The movie continued playing, forgotten in the background, but neither of them cared. Paige was safe, and Azzi was right where she belonged—by her side.

[playboysaleen]

Through Ash and Iron (6)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: I slacked last night to post this chap, ya girl was tired lol. f this 9-5 ON A SUNDAY- anyways yall enjoy lol

_________________________

The hum of the Undercity stretched below you as you sat perched on the edge of an old rooftop, the air thick with the scent of metal, oil, and faint traces of decay. The flickering neon signs in the distance cast an eerie glow across your features as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. The city buzzed with life, chaotic and unyielding, but up here, it felt strangely quiet.

“Brooding already?” Jinx’s familiar voice broke the silence.

You turned your head slightly to see her slinking toward you, her wild hair catching the light like a chaotic halo. She plopped down next to you with her signature reckless ease, her legs swinging freely over the edge as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I don’t brood,” you shot back with a smirk. “You’re confusing me with Vi.”

Jinx snorted. “Vi’s brooding is all fists and scowls. You? You’re more of a ‘mysterious loner with a tragic backstory’ kind of brooding. Very cinematic.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Yeah? And what’s your deal? Crazed powder monkey with a flair for dramatics?”

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. “Excuse me, but I prefer the term artistic mastermind.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “That’s definitely what people call you.”

The banter continued, sharp and fast, each quip met with equal intensity. But then, amidst the teasing, Jinx’s voice softened just slightly. “I missed this.”

You glanced at her, your smirk fading into something gentler. “Missed what? My dazzling wit?”

“Maybe,” she said with a sly grin, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “Missed you.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of everything you both had been through pressed down like a storm cloud. Without thinking, you reached out and took her hand, your thumb brushing over her scarred knuckles.

Jinx’s gaze dropped to your arm, her sharp eyes catching the faint lines of ink peeking from under your sleeve. “What’s with all these tattoos, anyway?” she asked, tilting her head. “You never told me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the question digging up memories you preferred to keep buried. But Jinx’s curious stare was relentless. “They’re… a map,” you admitted finally. “A map my so-called family gave me. They told me it would lead me to something important—something I needed to find to figure out who I was. But it’s from my past, and I haven’t looked at it in years.”

Her interest piqued, Jinx leaned closer. “A map, huh? Lemme see more of it.”

Before you could protest, she tugged at the hem of your shirt, lifting it enough to reveal the intricate network of lines and symbols inked across your chest and stomach. The tattoos were stark against your skin, a labyrinth of pathways and cryptic markings.

Jinx’s fingers hovered above the lines before tracing them lightly, her touch featherlight. “This… this is insane,” she murmured, her usual chaotic energy replaced by quiet fascination. Her fingers stopped at a particular symbol etched near your ribs.

“Wait a second.” Her voice grew sharper, her finger tapping the symbol. “This. I’ve seen this before.”

You glanced down. “What about it?”

“It’s Silco’s symbol,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and unease. “How the hell do you have this?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “I don’t know. It’s just part of the map. I never understood half of what these marks mean.”

Jinx stared at the symbol for a moment longer before her fingers resumed their path, tracing the lines of ink as if trying to decode you. Her touch lingered, and her voice softened again. “You know, when I was a kid… I used to dream about someone like you.”

Her confession caught you off guard. “Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant, almost wistful. “Someone who could pull me out of the mess I was in. Someone strong, who’d see me for who I am and not some broken thing. Someone who could…” She trailed off, her eyes meeting yours. “Give me the life I always wanted but could never have.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, and without thinking, you leaned closer. “And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Now I’ve got you. So, I guess… dream fulfilled.”

The warmth in her eyes pulled you in, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance, your lips pressing against hers. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the unspoken things you’d been too afraid to say.

Jinx melted into you, her hands gripping your shoulders as if anchoring herself to reality. And for a moment, everything—the chaos, the pain, the uncertainty—faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet glow of the Undercity.

Caitlyn sat at her desk, a chaotic array of maps, reports, and scattered photographs spread across the once-pristine surface. Her office, once a model of order and discipline, now reflected the turmoil in her heart. The faint hum of Piltover’s cityscape filtered through the window as she poured over the last known locations associated with you. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she refused to stop. Not until she had something solid to go on.

“Commander Kiramman, there’s… not much to go on here,” the enforcer standing before her said hesitantly, his voice grating against her frayed nerves. “The reports from the Undercity are unreliable. And the last sighting was weeks ago.”

“That’s unacceptable!” Caitlyn snapped, slamming her hand down on the desk. The officer flinched at her sudden outburst. “I don’t care if the information is unreliable. You are reliable, aren’t you? Then do your job. You find her.”

The enforcer opened his mouth as if to protest, but the icy fire in Caitlyn’s eyes silenced him. “This isn’t just another case,” she continued, her voice low but seething with urgency. “I don’t want excuses—I want results. She’s alive, and I need to find her before someone else does.”

The officer nodded nervously and backed out of the room, leaving Caitlyn alone with her thoughts. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face as a wave of emotion washed over her. She couldn’t shake the guilt, the memories of what she had done to you.

For weeks, Caitlyn had been consumed by a singular need to find you—not to capture you, not to punish you, but to make things right. Now that she knew the truth, that Ambessa had fed her lies and manipulated her into believing you were responsible for her mother’s death, the weight of her actions was unbearable. She had hurt you in ways she couldn’t take back, and yet, she couldn’t let go of the feelings she still carried for you.

She cared for you. Loved you, even. That much she couldn’t deny anymore.

You had always been a mystery, but there was something about you that drew her in—your strength, your resolve, the quiet way you carried the scars of your past. And now, knowing you had been innocent all along, those feelings burned even brighter, mixed with an aching need to atone.

She stood abruptly, her decision made. Grabbing her coat, she strode out of the office and made her way to the grand steps of Piltover Tower. By the time she reached the top, a crowd of enforcers had gathered below, their curious murmurs filling the air. Caitlyn stood tall, her sharp gaze scanning the assembled troops as she prepared to address them.

“This city,” she began, her voice steady but firm, “has been through hell. We’ve lost good people—our families, our friends. And in the midst of that pain, we’ve made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes.”

The enforcers exchanged uneasy glances as Caitlyn’s words hung in the air.

“I’ve come to realize that some of the choices we’ve made, some of the people we’ve blamed, were wrong. There’s someone out there—a person who was wronged by this city, by me. And now, they are in danger.”

She took a deep breath, her voice softening as her eyes drifted to the horizon. “Y/n isn’t a threat to us. She never was. And I won’t let Piltover’s mistakes take her away from me again.”

The crowd murmured, confused but attentive.

“I’m ordering a citywide search,” Caitlyn continued, her voice hardening with resolve. “Every corner of Piltover and the Undercity will be searched. I don’t care how long it takes—we will find her. And she is to be brought back alive.”

Her last word rang out like a commandment, silencing any doubts among the ranks.

“There’s another threat,” she added, her expression darkening. “Someone is targeting her—someone who wants to use her for their own gain. We cannot allow that to happen. I won’t allow it.”

Her gaze swept over the crowd, and for the first time in weeks, Caitlyn felt a sliver of clarity amid the chaos. She turned sharply, walking back into the tower, her mind already racing with plans.

This wasn’t just about making amends or clearing your name. It was about protecting you, saving you from the same forces that had taken so much from her. Because deep down, Caitlyn knew the truth: she still loved you, and she wasn’t ready to lose you again.

The streets of the Undercity buzzed with the usual mix of life and chaos as you walked alongside Sevika. She lit a cigar as the two of you moved through the crowd, your hood pulled low to avoid unnecessary attention. It was a routine now—your almost daily rounds to reinforce your presence. Let the people see you, remind them that you weren’t a ghost, that the streets still had a protector, even if it wasn’t the one they expected.

“I don’t get why you bother with all this,” Sevika muttered, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. “Your face is plastered on every corner. Pretty sure they know you’re alive.”

You shrugged, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Gotta stay ahead of the rumors, Sev. Besides, it’s not all for appearances.”

“Right.” Her smirk was as dry as the tone in her voice. “Totally not about that dish Jinx keeps whining about or those goggles you were ogling for the kid.”

You shot her a look, but it was playful. “She’s been craving it for days. And Isha… she’s been working so hard on her little machines. She deserves something nice.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, taking another puff. “You’re soft, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a small smile. “But they make it easy.”

Her expression softened briefly, but then she leaned in, her tone turning teasing. “So, you and Jinx, huh? Gonna make it official or keep tiptoeing around each other?”

You scoffed, the tips of your ears burning. “I don’t even know what we are. But… it’s something. She’s something.” You hesitated, your voice dropping as the words spilled out before you could stop them. “They both are. Isha and Jinx, they make me feel… like I belong. Like I finally have something worth holding onto.”

Sevika’s teasing grin faltered, her usual tough exterior replaced with something quieter, almost understanding. “Yeah, well… don’t screw it up.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Her mood shifted abruptly, her eyes narrowing. “Speaking of screwing things up… you know Caitlyn’s been sniffing around, right?”

That caught your attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen her,” Sevika said, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. “Gathering troops, barking orders. She’s definitely on a mission, and I’m guessing it’s to find you. Word’s out, Spark. She knows you’re alive.”

You frowned, your mind flickering to Caitlyn and the weight of your history with her. But before you could dwell too much, you changed the subject, unwilling to let the conversation linger there. “What about you, Sev? When are you gonna stop babysitting me and get yourself a love life?”

She barked a laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, because brooding loners with bionic arms are a hot commodity these days.”

“Hey, I’m proof it works.”

Sevika rolled her eyes, shoving your shoulder lightly. “Shut up and go get those goggles, sap.”

The teasing put a smile on your face as you ducked into a dimly lit shop tucked into the corner of the street. The air was thick with grease and the metallic tang of machinery. Rows of mismatched tools, gadgets, and gear lined the shelves, but it was the sleek pair of goggles hanging near the back that caught your eye. You reached out for them, turning them over in your hands, when a voice from the shadows made you freeze.

“Well, well… if it isn’t the lost one.”

The voice was low, measured, and carried an unsettling familiarity. You turned slowly, your eyes locking onto a tall, gaunt man stepping out from the shadows. His face was pale, his sharp features shadowed by a hood, and his eyes gleamed with a cold intelligence.

“Singed,” you said cautiously, your grip tightening on the goggles.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he said, his tone almost amused. His gaze flicked over you, lingering like he was studying a specimen under glass. “But it’s me who knows you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Don’t you?” His lips curved into a thin, cruel smile. “Oh, you’ve forgotten. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? The past buried so deep, you don’t even recognize the name you were given.”

You narrowed your eyes, but before you could speak, he said it—a name you hadn’t heard with that voice since you were a child. The sound of his tone–it sent a jolt through you, like a trigger and for a brief moment, your vision blurred.

The purple flash. It came unbidden, your body reacting to the name like a spark to a fuse. Your heart raced as you blinked, forcing yourself back to clarity, but Singed had already noticed.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, his smile widening. “It’s still in you. Buried, yes, but not gone. I was right to be patient.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded, but your voice wavered.

“Oh, you’ll understand soon enough,” he said cryptically, his words slipping into a language you couldn’t place. The sound of it was almost hypnotic, a strange rhythm that made your head swim and your body feel weightless.

You stumbled back a step, gripping the counter for support, your eyes unfocused. The world around you felt hollow, distant, as his voice echoed in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” Singed said, his tone almost mocking. “I’ll find you again. When the time is right.”

And just like that, he was gone, slipping back into the shadows as if he had never been there at all. You stood there for a moment, your breath shallow, your mind racing with questions you couldn’t answer.

The lair was dimly lit, the hum of machinery in the background blending with the occasional clink of metal tools on the workbench. You sat on a battered old chair in the corner, your hands clasped tightly, your elbows resting on your knees. It had been hours since you’d spoken. Since you’d even moved.

Your reflection in a nearby cracked mirror caught your eye. You barely recognized yourself. The sharp confidence you once carried felt dulled, replaced by something hollow, something unfamiliar.

His voice. That name.

“Spark.”

The word echoed in your mind like a haunting melody. It wasn’t just the name—it was the way he said it, the power it held over you. Your fingers twitched as you recalled how your body had responded against your will. A primal reaction you couldn’t control, one that made your stomach churn with disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you muttered under your breath, your voice hoarse.

Jinx’s light steps barely registered until she plopped down on the floor beside you, cross-legged and watching you closely. Her usual manic energy was subdued, replaced by something softer, more curious.

“Alright, what’s eating you, Big Shot?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’ve been sitting there looking like someone stole your favorite gun.”

You glanced at her, your jaw tightening. You wanted to brush it off, but the weight of the encounter was too much to carry alone.

“Do you know someone named Singed?” you asked, your voice low and strained.

Her expression shifted immediately, her playful smirk vanishing. “Yeah… I know him. He worked with Silco back in the day. Creepy guy. Always muttering, always experimenting. Why?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. “I ran into him earlier. He… he called me by that name, Jinx. A voice I haven’t heard since I was a kid.”

“What name?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Spark,” you whispered, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “And when he said it… it was like… like I wasn’t in control anymore. Like I had to listen.”

Jinx’s expression darkened. “What do you mean ‘had to listen’?”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. “It was like I wasn’t myself. My body just… responded. I felt feral, like there was something buried in me that he was pulling out. I wanted to fight it, but I couldn’t. I felt… hopeless. Submissive.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jinx’s fingers tapped against her knee, her gaze fixed on you but distant, as if she were piecing things together.

“I don’t like this,” she finally said. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “I need help, Jinx. I need to figure out what’s happening to me, why I reacted like that. And I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

Jinx hesitated, biting her lip. You could see the conflict in her eyes. She hated the idea of you being vulnerable, hated the thought of you needing anyone but her. But she wasn’t blind to the truth.

“You’re saying this is bigger than the Undercity,” she said quietly.

You nodded. “I think it is.”

She ran a hand through her hair, groaning in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but… you’re right. If Singed is messing with you, and he’s tied to whatever happened to you as a kid, we need someone who knows how to deal with him. Someone with resources.”

Your heart sank as you caught on to where she was going. “Jinx—”

“It has to be Caitlyn,” she interrupted, her tone firm despite the reluctance in her eyes. “She’s the only one who can help you figure this out. I hate it, but if it’s between that and losing you to whatever freaky science Singed is pulling, then I’ll deal with it.”

You looked at her, surprised by the resolve in her voice. Her loyalty was fierce, but this level of sacrifice was new, even for her.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, searching her face.

“No,” she admitted with a wry smile, “but I’m sure about you. If Caitlyn’s what it takes to keep you safe, then fine. But I’m not gonna let her take you without a fight. Got it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the weight on your chest lifting slightly. “Got it.”

She reached over, taking your hand in hers. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t care how many towers we have to burn down. You’re not going through this alone.”

Her words settled deep in your heart, and for the first time since the encounter with Singed, you felt a flicker of hope.

Caitlyn’s quarters were dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional sound of her shuffling papers or the creak of her chair. You stood in the shadows, watching her as she slumped at her desk, her head resting in her hands.

Her once pristine space was unrecognizable. Papers were scattered everywhere, drawers left half-open, and an empty teacup sat forgotten on the edge of the desk. She exhaled deeply, her body trembling as she fought back tears. But eventually, the dam broke.

“I hate this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice shaky. “I hate how much I care. How much I miss you. And you’re probably out there hating me after everything I did to you.”

You shifted in the shadows, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“I trusted you. I loved you. Still love you, even though I shouldn’t.” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Even if you don’t love me back… I can’t stop. I can’t let go of you.”

You clenched your fists, emotions swirling inside you. You felt deeply for Caitlyn, more than you were ready to admit, but now wasn’t the time to explore those feelings. There was too much at stake, too many questions that needed answers.

Still, seeing her like this broke something in you.

Leaning against the doorframe, you spoke lightly, trying to mask the weight in your chest. “You know, your security’s terrible. Anyone could just waltz in here.”

Caitlyn froze, her tear-streaked face snapping toward the sound of your voice. Her wide, disbelieving eyes found you as you stepped forward, your lips quirking in a teasing smile.

“Hello, Commander,” you said softly, the playfulness in your tone betraying the tension in your heart.

She didn’t hesitate. Caitlyn launched herself out of her chair, her boots thudding against the floor as she closed the distance between you. You barely managed to catch her as she threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a desperate embrace.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice muffled against your shoulder. Then, louder, as if saying it would make it real: “You’re here!”

Her hands found your face, her thumbs brushing against your jaw as she held you at arm’s length to look at you. Her fingers were trembling, her breath hitching. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I… I’m so sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For not trusting you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You let her hold your face, her warmth grounding you in the moment. “I’m here now,” you said softly, your hands resting on her waist. “But I need your help, Cait. I really need your help.”

She blinked, her tears slowing as she searched your face. “Anything,” she said quickly. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just tell me.”

You stepped back, reluctantly breaking her hold, and removed your coat. Then, with a steadying breath, you lifted your shirt over your head, exposing the tattoos that snaked across your torso.

Her eyes widened, her gaze tracing the intricate lines and symbols etched into your skin. She reached out instinctively, her fingers hovering over one of the symbols near your ribs.

“These…” she whispered. “You’ve never explained them to me before.”

“They’re a map,” you said, your voice low. “My so-called family gave them to me when I was a child. I didn’t understand what they meant back then, but… Singed does. He called me by a name, Caitlyn. ‘Spark.’ And when he said it, I wasn’t… myself anymore.”

Her fingers brushed against one of the symbols, and you shivered at the contact. “He did something to you?” she asked, her voice tinged with anger.

You nodded. “I don’t know how or why, but it’s like… he has some kind of control over me. I need to understand what these tattoos mean, what he’s after. And I need you to help me find out.”

Caitlyn’s eyes softened as she looked up at you, her hands still tracing the lines of your tattoos. “We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly. “I’ll do everything I can to get you through this. You’re not alone.”

She pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around you. For a moment, you let yourself sink into her embrace, her warmth chasing away the lingering cold left by Singed’s voice.

You held her close, your cheek resting against her hair. “Thank you, Cait.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you, her blue eyes filled with determination. “Whatever it takes,” she promised.

You nodded, a small flicker of hope igniting in your chest. For the first time in days, you felt like you had a chance to take control of your fate.

The dim glow of the desk lamp illuminated the worn records of Silco’s operations scattered before you. You sat hunched over, elbows propped on the table, flipping through the faded pages. Caitlyn had been quiet for some time now, seated across the room with her own stack of documents, but you felt her gaze lingering.

You glanced up, catching her staring. She didn’t look away.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips.

Caitlyn blinked as if pulled from a trance. “No, I just…” She trailed off, setting her papers down and folding her hands in her lap. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “You’ve changed me.”

Her words caught you off guard. You tilted your head, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I mean, the way I see the world,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “I used to think everything was so black and white. Good and bad. Piltover and the Undercity. But you… you made me see the shades of gray. The hope. The humanity I ignored in the people I was supposed to protect.”

Her blue eyes softened as they met yours, and something in her expression made your chest tighten. You tried to brush it off, turning your attention back to the records in front of you, but her voice drew you in again.

“You gave me hope,” she admitted. “You made me believe things could be better, even when I was at my lowest.”

You were about to respond when you realized she wasn’t across from you anymore. Somehow, she was beside you, her presence warm and steady. Her fingers brushed against your arm, and your breath hitched.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the moment. “Cait, I…” you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I’m seeing Jinx. And… I have feelings for her.”

Caitlyn froze for a second, then nodded, her expression unreadable. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I understand. I’m not trying to come between you two.” She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting slightly. “But I need you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”

Her voice wavered, and before you could react, her hands were on your face, her touch gentle but firm. You froze, your heart pounding as her gaze locked with yours.

“Cait…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay on task,” you added quickly, trying to redirect the moment. “We need to focus on what Singed is planning.”

Caitlyn sighed, her hands falling away as she pulled back slightly. “You’re right,” she said, though her eyes lingered on you a moment longer. Then, as if something clicked, her gaze sharpened, and she leaned closer again, her eyes catching on the faint symbol etched onto the side of your neck.

“What’s this?” she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over the mark.

You frowned. “It’s part of the map. Why?”

Caitlyn stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she crossed the room. She rifled through a stack of papers, muttering to herself until she pulled out a crumpled sheet. Her eyes darted between the paper and your neck, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“This symbol,” she said, holding the paper up for you to see. “It’s tied to Hextech. There’s someone who might be able to help us. They’ve worked on experimental tech, mapping neural pathways, and… well, they might know how to decipher this.”

You stared at the paper, the symbol on it eerily similar to the one on your skin. Your fingers brushed over the mark on your neck as unease and curiosity warred within you.

“Who are we talking about?” you asked, your voice steady despite the knot forming in your stomach.

Caitlyn looked at you, her resolve clear. “Heimerdinger,” she said. “If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

The faint, persistent hum of that voice had been tormenting you all evening, like a needle threading through the fabric of your thoughts. You tried to ignore it, to push it back where it belonged, but its grip only tightened.

The teacup slipped from your trembling hands and shattered against the floor, porcelain shards scattering like stars across the wooden boards. Your knees buckled, your hands flying to your head as a scream tore loose from your throat—a sound that was raw, primal, and animalistic.

Your vision spun, flashes of fragmented memories—or perhaps illusions—assaulting you. Faces you didn’t recognize, voices layered over each other in chaos, the faint glow of a strange symbol seared into your mind. And the voice. That commanding, icy voice calling you by a name you hadn’t heard in decades.

“Spark,” it whispered. It echoed, again and again, rattling inside your skull.

“Y/n!” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the haze. Her footsteps were quick as she rushed to your side, dropping to her knees beside you. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

You couldn’t answer her. You couldn’t see her. Your eyes were wide, flickering between their natural gray and an unnatural, glowing purple. Caitlyn froze, her hands hesitating in midair as your gaze snapped toward her.

Her breath caught. “Your eyes…” she whispered, fear lacing her voice.

Your breath was ragged, shallow, as if something deep and primal was clawing to the surface. The world blurred, your senses heightening in unnatural ways—every sound sharp, every scent piercing. You were becoming something unrecognizable, something feral.

Through sheer will, you found a sliver of control. With trembling hands, you fumbled into your pocket and pulled out the emergency flare Jinx had given you. Your hands shook as you thrust it toward Caitlyn, your voice a low, broken rasp.

“Go,” you managed.

She stared at you, stunned for a moment, before the severity of the situation sank in. Without hesitation, Caitlyn grabbed the flare and sprinted to the nearest rooftop. The night swallowed her footsteps, and moments later, a sharp hiss filled the air as the flare ignited.

The smoke rose thick and red, a stark beacon against the starless sky.

->

Jinx sat at her workbench, goggles perched on her forehead as she tinkered with a delicate trinket. She worked with an uncharacteristic focus, her tools clicking against the small device. A faint smirk played on her lips as she muttered to herself, occasionally shooting Isha a glance.

Isha sat nearby, her small frame rigid and tense, her wide eyes darting between Jinx and the object in her hands. The girl’s expression said everything: curiosity, apprehension, and admiration, all swirling together.

Jinx noticed the look and wagged her finger, a teasing grin curling her lips. “This little beauty? It’s not gonna bite, kid. Unless I screw up. Then…well…” She mimicked an explosion with her hands, laughing as Isha’s eyes widened further.

Isha’s head snapped up, though, her gaze fixed on the window. Her lips parted slightly, her brows knitting together in concern.

“What is it, gremlin?” Jinx asked, not bothering to look up. “I swear if it’s another—”

Her voice died as her eyes followed Isha’s line of sight. The flare burned bright in the sky, its red smoke twisting like a serpent against the black.

Jinx froze. The world seemed to stop around her. Her breathing quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. Without a word, she sprang to her feet, her stool clattering to the ground.

Her workbench became a blur of movement as she scrambled to grab her weapons, tools, and anything she might need. Every motion was frantic, precise, desperate.

Sevika was making her way to Jinx’s lair when the chaos hit. The red smoke was unmistakable, its ominous glow visible even through the smog of the Undercity. She turned the corner just as Jinx barreled into her, nearly knocking them both over.

“What the hell—” Sevika began, but Jinx’s hand gripped her collar before she could finish.

“It’s Spark,” Jinx blurted, her voice unsteady, her eyes wide and wild. She didn’t need to explain further; the desperation in her tone said it all.

Sevika hesitated for only a heartbeat before she nodded. Her hand moved instinctively to her weapon, her expression hardening.

“Let’s go,” she said, and the two of them took off toward the flare, their footsteps echoing through the labyrinth of the Undercity. Neither of them spoke, their shared urgency driving them forward into the unknown.

<-

The room felt impossibly small as you clawed at your mind for control. Your breaths were shallow and ragged, each inhale jagged like broken glass scraping your lungs. The voices—taunting, commanding, relentless—coiled around your thoughts like venomous snakes.

The table in front of you cracked under your tightening grip. Your strength betrayed you as it splintered and gave way, collapsing in two with a deafening crash. Your hoarse scream tore through the room, raw and primal, echoing against the walls.

You stumbled to your feet, your body swaying like a marionette with severed strings, and found your way to Caitlyn’s bathroom. The tile felt icy under your bare feet, but you didn’t notice. Your trembling fingers twisted the faucet handle, and steaming hot water roared from the showerhead. Without hesitation, you stepped under the cascade, letting the searing heat soak into your skin.

The world blurred as the water streamed over you. Memories began to rise, vivid and haunting, like waves crashing against the walls of your mind.

You were small again, no more than a child. The bridge stretched before you, cracked and broken, its foundation trembling with each explosion that rocked the air. Smoke choked the sky, and screams pierced your ears.

A man knelt in front of you, his face obscured by the haze, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“Sparky,” he said, his hands cupping your tear-streaked cheeks. His tone was warm, protective, but tinged with desperation. “Listen to me. You’re strong. Stronger than you think. But you have to go. Run.”

“I don’t want to leave you!” you cried, clutching at his arms.

He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll find you. I promise. I love you, kid. Never forget that.”

Another explosion roared behind him, the shockwave forcing him to let you go. His body shielded you from the debris, but the force sent you stumbling backward.

“Go!” he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the chaos.

You turned and ran, your legs heavy with fear. The bridge groaned beneath your feet as more explosions rattled its structure. Then, the sound of splintering metal tore through the air, and the ground vanished beneath you.

You screamed as you fell, the world spinning into a blur of smoke and sky. The man’s distant cry of anguish echoed after you.

The memory collided with the present as your scream ripped from your throat once again. You stumbled back against the shower wall, the water now unbearably hot, but you didn’t care. Your hands gripped your head, nails digging into your scalp as you slid down to the floor of the shower.

Jinx burst into Caitlyn’s residence, her face flushed with urgency. Her mismatched eyes darted around until they locked onto Caitlyn, who had already armed herself and was braced for confrontation.

For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension. Caitlyn’s sharp gaze met Jinx’s defiant one, both women silently acknowledging what neither wanted to say aloud: they both loved you, and they both knew it.

Jinx clenched her fists but broke the silence first. “She’s in trouble. You know it, and so do I.” Her voice was steady, but there was a crack in her tone, a vulnerability she rarely allowed.

Caitlyn nodded reluctantly, her grip on her weapon loosening. “I know.”

Sevika, leaning against the wall, smirked. “Well, isn’t this cozy? Two sides of a war teaming up over a girl. Feels like I’m stuck in a bad romance novel.”

Neither Jinx nor Caitlyn acknowledged her quip, but they both shot her sharp looks before heading down the hallway.

As they approached the bathroom, Caitlyn noticed the steam curling out from under the door. Her chest tightened.

“Stay behind me,” she said firmly, motioning for Jinx to wait.

But Jinx ignored her, shoving past and throwing the door open.

The sight that met them was chilling. You lay slumped in the shower, the hot water pouring relentlessly over your face and body. Your skin was pale, your lips parted as shallow breaths escaped you.

Jinx was the first to move, skidding to her knees beside you. “Hey! Come on, don’t do this to me now!” Her voice cracked as she shook your shoulders gently.

Caitlyn followed, her heart pounding in her chest. She crouched next to you, her hands trembling as she reached for your face. The heat of your skin against her palm was alarming.

Your eyes fluttered open, but they weren’t the gray she knew. They glowed an unnatural purple, their intensity sending a shiver down her spine.

“Y/n?” Caitlyn whispered, her voice barely audible.

You stared at her blankly, as if you didn’t recognize her. Then your lips parted, and a guttural growl escaped, low and feral.

Caitlyn turned to Jinx, her expression grave. “I need to detain her. For everyone’s safety.”

Jinx bristled, her hand already reaching for her pistol. “The hell you will!”

“She’s not herself!” Caitlyn snapped.

“Like I care!” Jinx yelled back, her voice breaking.

Sevika lingered in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “Oh, this is gonna end well,” she muttered under her breath.

The tension in the bathroom was suffocating, Jinx and Caitlyn standing inches apart, their heated argument escalating.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jinx hissed, her voice sharp. “She’s not some wild animal to be locked up in your tower like a damn trophy!”

“She’s a danger to everyone, Jinx!” Caitlyn fired back, her tone equally biting. “If we don’t control this, people will die. You can’t just ignore that because you—”

“Because I what?” Jinx interrupted, stepping closer, her mismatched eyes blazing. “Because I love her? Like you don’t?”

Sevika, leaning against the doorframe, let out a frustrated growl. She’d been watching you the entire time, noting the way your body tensed and twitched, your breath ragged, your purple eyes flickering faintly as if battling something unseen.

They didn’t notice the moment you stirred, your body beginning to rise from where you lay. Sevika did.

“Enough!” she barked, stepping forward just as you fully began to sit up, your glowing purple eyes locking onto the nearest target. With a single motion, Sevika’s mechanical fist slammed into your temple.

The metallic sound of the impact echoed in the room as you slumped forward, unconscious.

“What the hell, Sevika?!” Jinx shouted, rushing toward you.

Caitlyn froze, her face pale as she watched Sevika lower her arm, her expression dark.

Sevika turned on them, her voice sharp and unwavering. “You two were so busy fighting over who loves her more that you didn’t even notice she was about to tear both your throats out.” Her voice cracked slightly as she muttered, “And then Isha would be alone.”

Jinx’s mouth opened to argue, but nothing came out. Caitlyn lowered her gaze, guilt washing over her.

“You think this is a game?” Sevika snapped, her glare shifting between them. “You think any of this is about your feelings? It’s not. If she goes feral again, it won’t matter who she loves or who loves her back—none of us will make it out alive.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, composing herself. “We need to detain her. Somewhere safe.”

“Not the tower,” Jinx said immediately, her tone defensive.

Caitlyn frowned. “Jinx—”

“She’s not going there,” Jinx growled. “Ambessa’s there. You think I trust her anywhere near Spark?”

Caitlyn hesitated but relented with a nod. “Fine. Somewhere secluded.”

Sevika sighed heavily, bending down to lift your unconscious body over her shoulder like a sack of flour. “Let’s move. We’ll figure this out on the way.”

_________________

Well...

[porkcutletbowl44]

The Man You Need

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: 🔞NSFW. MDNI. unprotected p in v sex(wrap it in foil before you check her oil), dirty talk, creampie, PWP, Insomnia!reader, brief mention of misogyny, semi-public sex, shower sex, reader is also kinda bratty

(Ik y'all are only here for the porn that's why the plot dies quick lmao)

A big thank you to the 200 followers and counting 🫶🏻🩷

• · ────── ·🔞🖤🔞· ────── · •

"Y'look knackered, 'aven't been sleepin' enough?"

Simon's voice forces you to stop staring at the stale scones under the heat lamp, yanking you out of that day dream of falling face first into the breakfast line to get real sleep.

"Just the usual insomnia," you reminded. "What plans do you have today?" You asked, gatherthering the last of your breakfast.

His long strides effortlessly keeping up with your shorter ones. He towers over you as you both approach the table where you both sat normally.

"Just the usual, trainin' new recruits." He answers in the same manner as you, he sits down opposite you. He stretches his long legs out under the table, his calves brushing yours.

His eyes fixed on you like little bugs on your skin, taking in every detail of your face.

"'ow long has it been since y'last slept through a night?" He asks gruffly.

"Saturday." You answered.

His jaw clenches momentarily behind the thin fabric of his balaclava, and his shoulders stiffen.

"Y'mean to tell me its been three days an' you're still functioning?" He retorts, skepticism written on his face. He knows you, and he knows how bad your insomnia gets.

"Yeah. Doesn't help when we have to wake up early."

Ghost lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand over his face.

"You can't survive on 2 or 3 hours o' sleep a day. Y'know you're pushin' it too far. You're going to collapse soon if y'don't get your sleep under control."

He's always stern when he speaks, but with you it's like he's scolding you like a child who doesn't know any better.

You do know better; you've busted your ass to get where you are. You've had to deal with everything in the book to fight to where you are now in the military, and he knows that, he's been there the majority of the time and yet he nags you everyday about something.

"Well I'm trying, Si. Melatonin doesn't work and it gives me bad headaches." You mumbled irritably.

"Doesn't work, eh? An' I can see those bags under your eyes. Headaches too..." He rubs his chin as he looks at you, his eyes calculating. "What 'ave you tried so far, love? I've told you to keep me updated."

"The sleepy tea worked for a little bit, and then it didn't. I tried running before bed, no screen time, benadryl..."

Simon grunts and leans back in his chair, listening to you list all the things you've already tried and don't work, his frustration only seems to grow with this situation— or you?

"Bloody hell. You've tried everythin', 'aven't you? Nothin' seems to work, it's as if your body just won't shut down."

Sometimes this leads to the same thing over and over again, the 'you have to sleep' or, 'why do you do this to yourself?'. You just smile and nod, because yes, you can 100% control this.

"Well, sometimes another thing works, but it's just too much of a hassle." You shrugged, sipping some vitamin water.

Simon's brows furrow as he hears your muttered words. He leans forward, his gaze intense.

"What 'other things?'"

You sometimes keep things from him, and he won't let you get away with it this time. Or, there's the other times you are blunt, disgustingly blunt. You live with a bunch of men, who do not have a filter, that alone has killed yours out of existence.

You blink, fidgeting in place. "Ahem. Me time?"

He's not dense, he knows exactly what you mean and he's not one to back down from anything that usually makes normal people squeamish or "grossed out".

"An" 'ow is it 'too much o' a hassle exactly?" He asks, a slight raise in an eyebrow.

"My hand cramps." You rolled your eyes, it was obvious, who doesn't have that problem sometimes?

He crosses his arms over his broad chest with a humored look, your honesty can be either amusing or completely looked over.

"Your hand cramps, you say? Thas a hell o' a reason."

He chuckles softly, his eyes raking over you, taking in the sight before him. His gaze is heated. Your face can feel it, it's warm, it's like he's putting your face close to a bonfire with that look. For months you two do this... This thing that borders flirty and suggestive but at the same time it doesn't quite feel like either.

"Yeah. Thinking about going down to the store."

His eyes snap up, crossed arms going lose from his chest. He's not stupid; he knows what "going down to the store" means.

"You're talkin' about goin' to get one o' those things." His voice is low, but not quite harsh. He's almost hesitant to say it out loud, but he says it with so much disdain.

You deadpan. "A vibrator, Simon. A vibrator."

The tops of his cheeks flush red beneath his balaclava at your blunt response. You giggle a little, not expecting such a reaction from Lieutenant Ghost. What's the big deal? Did guys not talk about fleshlights? Brand recommendations?

He clears his throat before speaking, a little husky and quiet. No way, are you embarrassing him with girl stuff?

"Y-yeah. One o' those." He stutters, his usual confidence wavering. "Yes, thank you, love. I realize that. I just..." He trailed off, blinking a few times.

"Y'can't be serious. You're goin' to use a toy instead o' asking for help?"

It's like he can't believe you just said that out loud, in a busy mess hall no less. This is what it took? Talking about sex toys to make him awkward?

"Uhm...yeah? I less you have a boyfriend in your pocket waiting for me." you retort.

And yikes, he didn't seem to like that. His eyes squint, probably crinkle in his nose. He paused, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes studying your face closely.

"You don't seriously think y'need a toy instead o' just asking me, do you?"

Why does he sound hurt??

Your stomach does a backflip off your intestines and into a hot tub of oil. He did not just say that. You must be asleep, yes, you must be dreaming.

You giggled, "Good one."

Simon gives a low grumble, his jaw flexing and grinding. This apparently wasn't a laughing matter to him. Is he serious? Your tongue works over your teeth, trying your absolute hardest to be so cool, nonchalant, you don't care you don't care—

"'M not jokin', love. You don't honestly think that a toy would be better than the real thing, do you?"

Of course it's not fucking better. But what choices did you have? Sleep with one of your teammates and then get a dishonorable discharge? Make things awkward in your team?

"Oh... Considering it's illegal to have relationships, yes. A vibrator won't leave me, cheat on me, break my heart... It's perfect." You shrugged— it was for the best anyways.

He knew the rules just as much as you did. And he followed them religiously. What the hell is going on? Why would he just suggest that out of the blue?

"Y'think you'd be better off with a piece o' silicone than takin' the chance on me?"

You pinch your thigh under the table. Nope. You're still here in mess hall, in front of your now cold breakfast, and Simon is still trying to convince you to fuck him.

"Y'wouldn't be satisfied with that thing. You'd get bored, love..." He sounds so sure, and jealous when he speaks of the horrible, terrible, vibrator.

"How would you know?" You quired quickly.

Just to double check. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.

"I know 'cause I know you. You'd get tired o' that thing eventually, you'd want somethin' real."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lidding, darkening, consuming.

"You'd want someone to touch you, love. Not some piece o' plastic an' silicone."

"Yeah, like I'd ever get that," you barked out a laugh out of sheer nerves.

He didn't like that anymore than your last dismissive reply, you may just be convinced about now. So, cue to you squeezing your thighs together in your seat. Acting completely normal. Because everything about this is so normal; your coworker just telling you to come to him for a good fuck to be able to sleep.

"What do y'mean by that? 'ow can you say that with a straight face? Y'don't think anyone would want to touch you? Let y'know 'ow loved you are?" He grumbled, his hands clenching on top of the table.

"Y'think you're so undesirable that nobody would want you? Bloody hell..." He shakes his head.

"Simon, take a look at me." You licked your lips to prevent a shout of frustration, yikes, you do need sleep.

Simon's eyes fly over your form, from head to toe. He took his time studying you, his eyes lingering over the curves of your body, the way your hair fell over your face. There isn't a damn thing wrong with the way you look.

"'M lookin' at ya, love. An' what I see is perfection. So tell me again... what's your damn point?"

Oh, good God. It's real. But this is better than you imagined; you want to make him work for it. All because it's hotter to get a man to work for something, get all riled up.

"What do you see? A cutesy little girly girl? A nice little housewife for a big strong man?" You asked sarcastically.

"I see a woman who's strong, capable, an' bloody beautiful." He glares, offended you'd even think about saying that, "You're not some dainty damsel in distress, you're a force to be reckoned with..."

"My point exactly. Men don't want a chick that's more man than them." You rolled your eyes at just mentioning the delicacy of fragile masculinity these days.

Simon grunted and rolled his eyes, his irritation building into something you might not want to poke at.

"Thas where you're wrong, love." He points his spoon at you. "Not all men are as narrow-minded as y'think. I know damn well I want a woman like you. Strong, feisty, sexy."

"My point, Simon! I don't want some fucking pussy, I want someone whose more man than me." You huff.

You're not entirely implying this trait about him... You just wanna see him work for it.

"You're not goin' to find that in a bloody toy, love. You're lookin' in the wrong place if y'think some plastic will make y'feel better. Y'want a man? You already 'ave a man."

He was right there, willing to give you what you needed. But how far will he go?

"Yeah but... I want something real, too." You tried to explain.

This flirting back and forth was something you enjoyed; but what would it mean in the long run?

"Exactly." He huffed a bit exasperated. "Y'want somethin' real. Somethin' I can give you."

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you, his eyes deep and intense.

"Y'don't need a toy, love. You 'ave me. 'M real, an' I want you. Don't settle for some piece o' plastic when y'know damn well what you really want."

Okay then, schizophrenic, game on.

"I want someone stronger than me, someone to give me a reason to act like a woman," You snorted.

You were infuriating at times.

"An' y'think I can't give ya that? Y'think I can't make y'feel like a woman? Like a fuckin' queen?" That retort comes out low, accusing. "I can definitely make y'feel like a woman. Y'don't need someone stronger than you, love. Y'just need me."

Nail on the head with that one; yet how far can you take it? You lean between your elbows, squeezing your tits together to make you look as enticing as possible.

"Do I?" You purr.

Simon freezes in time, his plastic spoon almost falling away from his thick fingers. His hand does scramble for it to his credit but he almost dumps his bowl in the process. You hear him clear his throat roughly, Adams apple bobbing at the hem of his mask before it disappears. You bite your lip with a challenging gaze, would he take it?

"Yes," He replied firmly to cover up his hesitation, "Y'need me, love. Y'just don't know it yet. I can make y'feel things no toy ever could. Think y'need a man t'make you feel like a woman? I can do that, an' I will happily."

You smirk, "You're gonna have to try harder than that,"

"Oh, I will, love. You're just askin' for a challenge, aren't you?"

"You afraid to take it?" You shot back slyly.

He was anything but afraid with that look. He was up for the challenge, and you know he's gonna prove it.

"Baby, 'm not afraid o' anythin' when it comes to you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "As long as you can take what I can give you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes searing into yours. There was danger in his gaze, it only made it all the more delicious.

"Y'think you can 'andle me, love? Y'think you're ready for what I can do t'you?"

"Only if you can prove it." You grin.

Ghost let out a low growl, his eyes darkening at your challenging tone. He thrived on it, it only fueling his drive to prove himself to you.

"Oh, I'll prove it, love. I'll prove it again an' again until y'can't even think straight."

"No, no, prove you're more man than me." You corrected easily.

"Y'want to know why 'm more o' a man than you? I can make y'feel things you 'aven't even imagined before. I'll 'ave you beggin' f'me, addicted t'me."

"I'll be waiting, then." You set the challenge in stone. This was it.

The bear has been poked enough. He was on a mission now.

"You'll be beggin' f'me before the night's over." He boasts smoothly, a promise and a warning all in one.

"If I get a good night's sleep I'll consider keeping you,"

You were maddening, and he both loved and hated the way you pushed his buttons. It was all in good heart; for the most part.

"You're already keepin' me, love. Y'just don't know it yet."

You bite your lip, taking a quick survey of the area before replying. This was getting too good to be true.

"Don't disappoint then, we have..." You glance at your watch, humming, "six hours until lights out."

"Thas more than enough time." He grunts, all smug and cocky behind his mask.

Step one, getting recruit work out of the way. It's boring as fuck, mostly watching the Lieutenant scare the absolute piss out of the fresh meat.

Simon was barking orders left and right, ruthless to the soldiers in training. Almost as ruthless as the sun beating down on them.

You abandoned your spot in the shade, clip board in hand. You balance two water bottles on the wooden board as you approach to offer a beverage.

"Thanks," he grumbles, his eyes darting around to ensure no one witnessed the small gesture just like you.

He took the offered water, downing half the bottle in one go and adjusting his mask back in place. You drag your pin down the clip board to check off what's already done.

"Forty laps?"

"Forty laps."

Simon confirmed with a gruff nod, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before turning back to the recruits. Despite the challenging heat, he refused to end the training drills early no matter how much you teased him about buying him a little extra on your toy run— Viagra.

You thought it was hilarious, him? Not so much.

"An' they better pick up the pace!" He barked, the deep baritone easily reaching the pirvates' ears.

You circle that box, "And the sixty pull ups?" You breathed a bored sigh.

Simon grunted in annoyance.

"Done."

He informed in a low grumble, his jaw working under the balaclava. It was an excessive amount, but many of the recruits wouldn't even make it halfway through. But he didn't care, he was in a mood. A horny one. When was the last time this guy got laid?

"Wasn't accepting any half-assed attempts, either."

"The rope climbing?" You tap your pen at the box.

Simon glances down at the list, eyeing the scribbles and doodles next to the ticked boxes.

"Done." He replies simply.

You could faintly hear the sound of the recruits groaning and grumbling in pain and exhaustion, you almost felt bad. It was minor flashbacks to your recruitment days, yet Simon didn't seem to have that same sympathy judging by the satisfaction in his eyes.

"Aaannnd... Combat." You hum, one last task left for training.

This was where things get interesting.

"Its last. Need to let 'em rest a bit first. Suppose they earned it."

"Generous," you comment blandly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep checkin' off the list. I wanna get these fuckin' recruits dismissed soon. 'M sick o' the heat."

The day dragged on painfully slowly. The heat was relentless until the rain would show up any minute, and he was more irritable than usual. Even the recruits seemed to notice his foul mood, giving him a wide berth whenever he was in their vicinity. You were starting to grow bored of his usual job of scaring the hell out of the recruits, (not so bored when sweat rolls down the thickness of his biceps and the bounce of his tits when he jogs up to the trainees to yell at them) and overall wondering when and how the fuck you're supposed to get laid at this point.

Finally, the training was over. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the compound. The recruits limped and hobbled their way to their assigned lodgings, exhausted and sore.

Simon, on the other hand, seemed like he had even more energy than usual. Despite the long, grueling day, he was somehow wired and restless. You should ask what energy drink he uses after you wrap this up. (Hint: it's the male drive to get some pussy).

As the recruits dispersed, one in particular caught your eye. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious of the bunch, strutting around like he owned the place. You and Simon had seen it countless times before, it got old fast.

"Arrogant little prick," Simon muttered irritably.

You tongue your cheek, "What? Threatened by him?"

It's a pointless taunt— Simon? Threatened? Gosh, it's so fun to get men worked up. Simon's eyes narrow at your comment, a grunt bursting out from him.

"Threatened? Me? Fuckin' hell, no." He grumbles offendedly. "I could take 'im apart within a minute. Can't stand the ones caught up in their own 'ead,"

You hum in agreement. You know for a fact you'd pay to see that one day, and Soap would be right behind you.

"You're lucky you're the most tolerable person 'ere," he adds goodnaturedly.

You backhand his shoulder lightly, "Oh, look, your best friend is coming over!"

And speak of the devil, the recruit struts over with that piece of shit arrogant smirk. Simon rolls his eyes in annoyance as he turns to face the strutting recruit.

"Great. Just what I need," The sarcasm is laid on thicker than the suspicious gravy served this morning at breakfast.

The recruit saunters over, his obnoxious confidence on full display. Simon clenches his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Sir... Do we have more extensive training available?" He asks slowly, his own ego taking a hold of his tongue.

Simon's eye twitches at the recruit's pompous tone. Extensive training, more like a request for special treatment to feed that ego.

"Extensive training?" He echos roughly, "F'you? Why?"

The recruit shrugs boredly, "I think your ways are a bit old fashioned, too easy,"

Easy, old fashioned? This cocky little bastard doesn't know the first thing about hard work. And he's about to serve himself his very own buffet of living hell from Simon. You distract yourself with the grass below your feet, taking everything you have to not laugh.

"Y'think we make things easy on you?" He sneers, taking a step closer to the recruit. "Y'think you're hot stuff, eh? Well, you're in for a rude awakening, rookie."

Your lips purse, frowning deeply to stop the smile.

"What makes y'think you deserve anythin' beyond the standard training regime, hmm? You 'aven't earned a fuckin' thing yet." He glares at the recruit, his eyes dark and intense behind his mask. "Y'get your fuckin' arse to the barracks. Your extensive training for the next month? You'll be cleanin' the bathrooms before lights out."

The recruit's smirk falters at Simon's orders. He's not used to being talked back to, much less being told what to do. But he tries to maintain his cocky attitude, not wanting to back down in front of you, maybe. Ugh, men.

"Bathroom duty? That's... a little degrading, isn't it?"

Simon chuckles darkly, his eyes dancing with amusement. This cocky bastard was really pushing his luck more than you were. You almost feel bad if it weren't so funny.

"Degrading?" he sneers. "Welcome to the military, rookie. It's not a goddamn country club. Y'think you can come 'ere, demand extra training, an' expect special treatment? This ain't a playground. You're 'ere to learn discipline, not stroke your ego."

You stifle a laugh behind your clipboard. This was too good, and all the more hot to see Simon angry.

Simon shoots a sidelong glance at you, even though he's supposed to be acting tough and intimidating, he seems to let himself crack through the lieutenant role around you.

The recruit, on the other hand, doesn't notice your amusement. He just looks sulkily at Simon, clearly not pleased with the prospect of bathroom duty.

Simon grabs the recruit roughly by the collar, the display of power and dominance making you jump in place. Simon's firm grip on the recruit's collar startles the cocky little punk, his eyes wide in surprise.

"See, this is your problem," Simon grits lowly. "Y'think you're untouchable. Y'think you're better than everyone else. But lemme tell you somethin', wanker... you're not."

The recruit stammers, eyes frozen with fear.

"Disobey your superior officer again an' I'll make sure your walls are covered in you."

He gives the recruit a rough shove, releasing his collar. The recruit stumbles back, shocked out of words.

"Consider that your final warning," Simon growls. "Now get your arse to the fuckin' barracks, rookie."

The recruit seems to shrink under Simon's intimidating aura, his cocky demeanor shattered and squashed to dust. He mumbles a half-hearted, "Yes, sir," before hurrying away.

You check your watch, "Well, today has been fun. It's too bad you only have three hours left."

Three hours left, you say? He hadn't even started yet. Because of training, of course.

"Three hours, huh?" He grumbles, eyes setting in determination. "Don't count me out yet, love. I can do a lot in three hours."

"Hurry it up, or in three hours I'll have a brand new shiny vibrator." You grin cheekily.

"You won't be needin' any damn vibrator if I 'ave anythin' to say 'bout it," he hisses. "I don't need any bloody gadgets to 'elp out."

He starts to stalk towards you, his eyes intense and focused. Your thighs squeeze together, pleased with your outcome.

"Three hours is more than enough time f'me to prove myself, love. An' you'll be beggin' before the clock strikes, guarantee ya that."

"Right," you drawl with a roll of your eyes.

He reaches up with a rough hand, grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes meet his.

"Y'think I can't prove myself in three hours, huh? That I need some bloody toy to 'elp me out? I promise you, love, you'll be singin' a different tune."

You giggle teasingly, biting your tongue through your smile.

"Tick tock, Simon." You singsong.

You were mocking him, challenging him, all for this purpose.

"You're playin' a dangerous game, love," he growls down at you, "Y'think you can tease an' walk away with that pretty lil smile on your face. But you're gonna find out real quick that I won't back down, even when you're being a cheeky lil minx."

You smirk dreamily, staring up at him with raw want. You kinda want him to do something extravagant, proving himself just because. When was the last time you had fun like this?

"You're pushing your luck, love," he grunts, his voice gruff with barely concealed desire. "If you keep lookin' at me like that, there ain't gonna be enough time to do everythin' I wanna do to you."

You pull from his hand, turning on your heel as you call over your shoulder,

"I'll be waiting, Si,"

You were taunting him, teasing him, with that sultry little comment and casual tone. You feel his eyes on your ass with each sway of your hips, that naked feeling let's you know he's undressing you with his eyes.

You whip out your phone to look at the time, alas, there's just no way what you want can happen. The rules, regulations, and the severe lack in privacy.

Shooting Captain a quick text for permission to leave base for an hour you head into the higher up showers for some much needed washing of the sweat collected on your body.

As you toss your towel on the bend, your phone buzzes.

'Permission granted. I'll let the team know you'll be out.'

Your heart drops to your ass as you frantically text back—

'Wait no that's not necessary!!!!!'

And then, to your horror, you get a ping in the group text.

Shit.

The team knows youre just going out, but Simon knows. Simon knows you're chickening out from the challenge.

"Fuck!" You hiss, frantically looking around the showers as if there were anything that could help you.

There's nothing. Not the gathered pubes in the moldy shower drain nobody uses, not the faded rusting lockers, not the dirty windows that nobody will ever be able to see out of no matter how much scrubbing

You're fucked.

But how fucked, do we wager? Does this mean Simon will get in his feelings and never talk to you again? Will he out you? (No, it wouldn't ever—) What if he gets revenge?... What kind of revenge?

As you stand there, panic setting in, a voice rings out from the entrance of the shower area.

"What 'appened to three hours?"

You squeak as the door slams, the deadbolt echoing through the room.

You are locked in the showers with Simon.

"What's with the sudden cold feet?" Simon grunts as he rounds the corner, closing the distance between you in slow, measured strides.

"I-I can explain—" you stammer, phone dropping on the bench next to your towel.

He stalks towards you, his steps slow and deliberate. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze that makes your heart beat even faster in your chest.

You're trapped, unable to back away, and he looms over you like a caged beast.

"Explain why you're runnin' away from the challenge you issued, love?" he drawls, stopping just a few feet away from you. "This I 'ave to 'ear."

He crosses his arms as he stands there, his eyes never leaving your face. You're in for it now, his expression seems to say.

You chuckle nervously, gesturing between the two of you, "I mean, realistically it can't ever happen—"

"Who says it can't?" He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "I don't care 'bout the damn regulations, love. That's not gonna stop me from 'aving you."

"Y-You are all about the rules, Si. You follow them to a T— You wouldnt—" you swallow thickly. What have you done to yourself this time.

"I usually follow the rules, yes," he concedes tauntingly, "An' right now, those rules are fuck all to me anymore."

Your tongue suddenly feels heavy in your mouth, "W-What about—"

Simon leans a forearm over your head and slouches down, his eyes darkened by lust and determination.

"What 'bout...?" he mocks, "Y'think I give a damn 'bout those old geezers with their rules right now? All I care 'bout is 'aving you, 'ere an' now."

Simon's free hand reaches up, his fingers lightly tracing your jawline. "I'll show you 'm fuckin' man enough to 'ave you."

While you are speechless, he adds for you to better understand. "It's just you an' me in 'ere."

"But—" you squeak.

Simon's hand moves quick to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"No," he growls, "We don't need to follow the rules in 'ere. We don't need anyone's permission. We could be loud, we could be rough. No one would ever know."

No one... Would know.

He leans in, his lips hovering just centimeters from your ear. "Just us in 'ere. You tellin' me you'd rather 'ave some stupid fuckin' toy over a man that can fill you up all night long?" His hand slides down to your throat, holding you tenderly but firmly, "Just say yes, love."

You whimper in delight, his eyes flickering down to your shifting thighs.

"Yeah," he purrs, his hand angling your head up against the wall. "Y'know you want it. Y'want me."

You want him more than sleep. You want him more than some real fucking food.

"Y'know you don't need anythin' else but me t' fuck you stupid."

"Yes," you moan.

Simon's eyes gleam with approval, his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

"That's good fuckin' girl," he growls.

He licks your neck through the mask, chest expanding with a deep inhale that crushes you to the wall.

"Say y'want me," he demands in a gravelly whisper.

What is thinking? Why would you have to think?

"Want you s'bad," you whine.

"Fuckin' right you do," he mutters.

His other hand drifts down, slowly tracing down your body until it lands on your waist, shoving you into the shower stall. For a moment, you thought you were going to get a little groping, made a knead here and there. But no, you're just standing like a dumbass in the empty shower stall.

"Strip." He growls.

Your skin erupts with gooseflesh in the bare shower shall, his gaze unwavering as he waits for his private show. He steps closer, his own clothes still on, thick arms folding over his chest.

"Slowly," he commands, "Show me what's gonna be mine."

You pinch the hem of your cargos, and then switch to your shirt.

What the hell do you even start with?

"Trousers first," Simon instructs roughly.

He stands there, still dressed, but his eyes devouring every inch of you as you slowly pop the button.

You slowly shimmy the waist band over the swell of each hip, pushing down to your ankles. Simon's breaths grow heavier as you flick the material off your feet his eyes transfixed on the movement.

"Thas it. Bra next," he commands, velvety smooth, "Nice n' slow. I want t'see all o' you."

Bra? Bra next? Why not your shirt?

You kick the cargos away, your shirt barely covering over your panties as you unclasp the bra through your shirt and maneuver it out from one of the sleeves to hold it in the tip of your finger.

Simon's eyes zero in on your pebbled nipples and pretty panties, the thin fabric doing little to hide your curves.

"Good girl," he purrs, "Now come 'ere."

You're... You're not even done. He motions with his fingers for you to approach him, his eyes dark with need.

"Do the thing," you manage out.

"The thing?" he grunts in an enticing voice, taking a step forward as you gesture to your mouth and nose.

He reaches up and pulls the mask to his nose, revealing his lips.

"Is this what y'want, love?" he asks, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you breathe as you wet your lips.

Those would taste so good. You just know it.

"Y'want to see m' mouth, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of those now revealed lips that show his canines, a chipped tooth, his lower face in general in its scarred glory, "Y'want to see what I can do, love?"

He closes the remaining space between you in a single stride, grabbing you by the back of the neck and yanking you forward.

His free hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with dark hunger that makes your pussy pulse.

His mouth descends on yours, his lips claiming yours in a fiercely possessive kiss. You moan lowly, one of your arms circling his thick waist. He's burning up, hot and sweaty under his clothes that reek of his natural musk.

One of your curious hands ventures down, squeezing at his ass. He breaks the kiss with a surprised grunt, a coy smirk.

"Naughty, that," he huffs, "But I like it. My turn,"

The world before you lunges back, his mouth descending on your neck. He sucks and bites at the sensitive skin, his teeth leaving red marks in their wake.

His hands have a rough exploration, sliding down your skin, pausing just above the waistband of your panties to slide in to the globes of your ass. You stand in your tip toes to lean into him, whimpering at his rough gropes and kneading.

His mouth continues it's path down your neck, his teeth grazing the tops of your covered tits as his hands roughly squeeze and massage your perfect ass.

"Look at you," he growls, "Squirmin' an' I haven't even started."

He pushes your ass up, looking over your shoulder to watch it bounce. His hands slide lower, pulling the elastic of your panties down slightly, "Look at this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're fuckin' soaked through."

And he's right.

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid that sticky mess thats unbearably uncomfortable. He tuts, delivering a slap to your ass.

"Tryin' to get yourself off, love?" he purrs, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties.

You can't tell the difference between the onyx color from his pupils, you can hardly look at his eyes when his mouth is right there and his own tits are in your face. God, you want to nibble on those chapped lips, feel those fat biceps squeeze you as his hips snap on the backs of your thighs—

He backs you up, his hard cock pressing against you through his jeans, "Y'want it?"

"Yes!" You mewl.

"Thas what I like to 'ear, love," he husks, his fingers playing with the crotch of your panties. "Get that shirt off, wanna see those pretty tits finally."

You squirm, pulling your shirt up and off and throwing it somewhere that doesn't matter right now.

"Perfect," he rasps, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, "These are fuckin' nice,"

You arch, eyes rolling at the nice kneading to your sore flesh of being stuck in a bra all day. To your displeasure, freezing water sprays down your body and your uncomfortable groan bounces off the walls until the water warms up.

He's still fully dressed though, his clothes sticking to his muscular frame, accentuating every hard muscle and scar.

"Shower's a bit shitty," he says, his eyes raking your body. "But we don't 'ave to wait for that to get goin'."

Your panties have disappeared into his pocket, you follow the way his fingers shove it in— Your eyes divert to that large bulge behind the zipper.

"I know what y'want," he grunts, his hand moving to the belt and zipper.

Simon pulls down his zipper, the metal teeth parting revealing a black pair of boxers, which does little to hide the already impressive outline of his hard cock nudging up against the waist band.

He pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, his body still clothed in a tight black shirt and underwear drenched in water.

Your saliva glands burn at the sight of his happy trail plunging past the waist band, eyeing that nice size you only got a little feel of on your leg—

"Want a closer look?" he purrs, his hand slowly palming the base of his covered cock, precum bleeding out from the thin fabric on his thigh.

You make a face at him, your face burning with embarrassment

"What's the matter, love? You shy now?" he says with a smirk, his hand continuing to slowly palm and squeeze, "Y'were all full o' attitude today."

His head tilts mockingly, stroking himself for you, enticing you. Pinch yourself again, this might actually be a dream—

"Go on," he rasps, "Feel me."

You follow a trail of water down to his shirt clinging to his body, his drenched happy trail, and then the outline of his cock.

With one hand, you tug the waist band forward, clenching as he sucks in a breath that makes his abs tense.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear, "Go on," he husks, "Take it out, love."

He leans back, watching you intently, waiting for you to do as told. Maybe you do like to be told what to do in this context. With your other, you pull him free with your eager hand.

He moans, he fucking moans.

"Thas it, love," he husks out, his voice a little strangled. "Feel me up."

His hands rest on the wall behind you, caging you in. He hips rock into your hand, each stroke of your fist pulling the foreskin back.

"You're so big," you whimper.

Simon lets out a deep, gravelly groan as you speak. It just might be the hottest sound you've ever heard. Right next to the time he was lifting heavy dumbbells, letting all those grunts and growls loose.

He looks down at you, his gaze burning with lust and need, "You want it, baby?" he asks, his hips grinding against your hand harder, "Want this big dick?"

"Want it so bad, Si," you mumbled against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick his teeth.

his mouth claiming yours in a rough, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately tangles with yours, his teeth biting and tugging at your lower lip.

"I know you do," he grunts, his tongue slipping past your lips to slide against yours before speaking again, "You've been eye-fucking me all afternoon, love."

His hands start to wander along your body, mapping your curves with rough caresses,

"You're gonna get it," he husks.

One of his hands moves down to your hip as he moves lower, his mouth following the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and bites.

"Want m'cock in that pretty pussy? Or your mouth?"

Where do you fucking think, smart guy?

"In me, inside me, please," you mewl.

His massive paws squeeze your hips to spin you around, planting your hands against the wall.

"Bend over," he growls, his eyes roaming over your body, "'M gonna give you what y'want."

His hands on your hips start to maneuver your body, making you arch your back and hips out.

He runs a hand up your spine, "So pretty," he murmurs as he takes in the sight of your body bent and on display for him.

He steps up behind you, his body flush against your back, his clothes still fucking on and wet and sticking to your body.

"Gonna fill ya up nice n' good," he sucks on his teeth with a low growl, "Been thinkin' o' me all day 'aven't you?"

His hips rock against your ass slowly, his bare cock rubbing on your supple skin.

His hands massage your ass, kneading and squeezing the flesh as you lean on your forearms, moaning as the blunt head notches to your dripping slit.

"Want m'hands all over you," Simon growls against your flesh, his rough palms skimming over your curves, "Mm, relax, yeah? Nice n' easy— Yeah, thas a good girl,"

His hips do a slow, deliberate grind, rocking into you to make room for him as he moves his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

There's slow shallow thrusts, working you open until he takes a deep stroke down to the base. Fuck, he's thick all over, heavy even inside your walls. If you had the brain power, you'd reach below and hold his balls.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he husks darkly, his breath hot against your skin, "I wanted this since I first saw you."

He's so intense he's burning a hole through you with his gaze, his hands still exploring your body, worshiping every curve, every dip, every inch of you.

His hands slide down to the front of your thighs, coaxing your legs further apart, opening you up for him.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in," he breathes, "I knew you'd feel amazing under my hands."

Your cheek presses into the shower wall with a strangled moan,

"S'deep,"

Simon growls at your moan and pushes into you with more force, his hands squeezing your ass to yank you back, spearing you over and over on his cock.

"Fuckin' knew you'd feel s'tight an' good,"

His hand presses on your lower tummy, mouth hot and panting against your shoulder blade. He grabs the back of your hand, his fingers threading through yours and pressing it against the wall.

"Take it, take—this—cock,"

You choke out a moan, slumping against the wall, "please, so close, so close—"

"You gonna come f'me, huh?" he asks, his voice raw and breathless.

It's a lovely sound on him.

"Yes, please, wanna come, haven't came this fast before—" you beg.

He lets out a ragged, possessive growl at your words, his hips piston roughly against your ass, full balls swinging on your clit over and over.

"Come on, pet," he snarls, deft fingers twirling tight circles around your clit.

You whimper loudly, hands sliding down the slick shower walls, hips straining for him as you come hard with a broken mewl.

"That's it, fuck—"

He breaks off in a gutteral moan, hips stilling as he spills inside you. Simon catches you as your legs buckle out from under you, scooping you up against his chest to lean you back against the wall.

You don't even know what just happened in the span of 5 minutes. He's panting hard, his heart pounding against your back.

"Fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Fuckin' perfect, love,"

You smile lazily back at him, pawing at his shoulders to pull him in a soft languid kiss, his lips claiming yours in soft, sweet caresses. He melts against your touch, the fierce need from earlier receding now that you're sated. He returns your lazy kiss, his hands gently roaming up and down your back.

"Bloody hell," he mutters against your lips, "Fuckin' perfect, woman." He nips at your neck, "'M not done yet."

Looks like he is the cure to your sleeping problem.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 16

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS !!! MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, guns, shooting

Chris’s POV

I didn’t wake up until 3pm, sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. My body ached like I’d been hit by a truck, but the heaviness wasn’t just physical, it was mental too. The events from last night lingered in my mind like smoke, refusing to clear.

Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I saw a notification from Y/n, her name lighting up the screen. She’d replied to my late night text at 7am , like the early riser she was:

"Probably won’t be finished until 6, but I’d love to meet you after! Can’t wait. xx"

A grin spread across my face as I read her message. Y/n had quickly become the best part of my life, the one constant that kept me grounded in the midst of the chaos. Knowing she wanted to see me, even after last night when I’d left her house abruptly, made me feel.. normal. Like I was just a guy with a girlfriend, looking forward to dinner or a drive. Not a dealer. Not someone neck deep in this life.

But then my mind shifted, and I couldn’t help but think about Nate. He’d been heavy on my thoughts since the funeral, and not just because of Danny. After last night’s incident at the docks, I wondered if he knew what had happened. Did Vince fill him in? Did he know I’d gotten into a fight with an H Block, or was he still in the dark?

I sat up, tossing my phone on the bed and running my hands through my hair. I needed to see him. Nate wasn’t the type to reach out, even when things got tough, but I couldn’t let him spiral alone. The weight of Danny’s death was already crushing enough. Add in everything else going on with the cartel, and I knew he was probably close to his breaking point.

Grabbing my jacket, I slipped on my sneakers and headed out the door. Driving to Nate’s place, I tried to clear my mind, but the tension in my chest wouldn’t go away. I kept thinking about last night, the way I fucked up that H Block guy, the adrenaline that surged as Vince encouraged me to keep going. That’s what haunted me most. I’d crossed a line, one that was getting harder to ignore.

When I pulled up to Nate’s place, something felt.. off. I spotted a black sedan parked a couple of houses down, its windows tinted. It wasn’t a car I recognized, and that alone was enough to make me suspicious. Nate’s neighborhood wasn’t exactly known for flashy cars, most of the people here drove old Hondas or pickups.

I stayed in the car for a moment, watching. No movement. No one got in or out of the sedan. Maybe someone swung by to pay respects to Danny. Maybe it was a cop since Danny’s death was now a murder investigation, after all. Or maybe it was something worse, like someone from H Block scoping out Nate’s place.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone and sent Nate a quick text:

"I’m outside. Want to go for a ride?"

No reply. I waited a minute, then another, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Finally, the front door creaked open, and Nate stepped out. The sun was low on the horizon, casting the street in an orange glow as he walked toward the car. He looked rough, dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was crushing him.

I nodded at him, and he climbed into the passenger seat without a word.

“What’s up?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb.

He shrugged, staring out the window. “Not much.”

I glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood. “You look like shit, man.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s been a shit week.”

“How you holding up?” I asked, trying to break the silence.

Nate shrugged, still not looking at me. “Same as you’d expect. Just tired of everything.”

I didn’t push him, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. After a minute, I asked, “You figure out who it was that tried to make the hit at the funeral?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Yeah. But no idea who he’s connected to. Guess he thought he’d make a name for himself, going after us at Danny’s funeral of all places.” He paused, clenching his fists. “But he’s gone now. Fled the city. No one can find him, but I’m not worried. He’ll show his face eventually. When he does, I’ll handle it.”

I didn’t doubt that. Nate wasn’t the kind of guy to let things go, not when it came to family.

“What about Danny?” I asked carefully, keeping my eyes on the road as I drove. “You guys got any leads on his murder? Pieced together what happened that night?”

Nate leaned back in his seat, running a hand over his face. “Not much, but Vince gave me some details. Danny was found outside the warehouse at the docks.” He turned to look at me, his face grim. “Vince was one of the first on the scene, but he couldn’t stay. He got some of the guys to move Danny’s body before the cops could get there and start poking around.”

My stomach twisted. “Why’d they move him?”

Nate scoffed, his tone bitter. “Why do you think? The warehouse is full of supplies. Cops start sniffing around there, and it’s game over for us. Vince didn’t have a choice. Told everyone to play it like Danny was shot somewhere else, that they drove him to the hospital but died on the way.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, my knuckles going white. The thought of Danny’s body being dragged around like that made me sick.

Nate continued, his voice low and cold. “Hospital bought it. Cops bought it too, at least for now. They think he was killed in the middle of nowhere. But we know the truth.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating. My mind raced, piecing together the events. “Say it was one of those H Block fucks” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “What if someone from their crew was trying to break into the warehouse and Danny just happened to be there at the wrong time?”

Nate frowned, turning to me with suspicion. “What makes you say that?”

I hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth. “Because I ran into one of them there last night” I admitted, my voice low. “Caught some guy trying to steal our supplies. Vince told me to handle it, so I did. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? If they’re getting bold enough to hit the funeral, they’d try the warehouse too.”

Nate’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with anger. “You think it’s connected?”

“I don’t know” I admitted. “But it feels too close to ignore.”

Nate didn’t say anything for a while, his gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun dipped lower. “We’ll find out” he said finally, his voice hard. “One way or another, we’ll find out who did this. And when we do..”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. The fury in his voice said it all.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. The weight of what had happened was sinking in deeper, but I couldn’t let it consume me. Not now. Not when there was still so much left to unravel.

"Wait, the fuck were you doing at the docks last night? Thought you had a dinner to attend?" Nate says, raising an eyebrow as I pull into a gas station.

I sigh, pulling the car to a stop near the pump. "And I did attend that dinner" I reply, stepping out. "But Vince pulled me out early. Needed me for a run. Ended up partaking in a physical fight, too. Exactly how I wanted to spend my Thursday night."

Nate lets out a dry laugh, leaning back in his seat. "Makes two of us in physical fights last night. At least I didn’t get my lip split open." Nate smirks, grabbing at my face.

I smirk, rubbing my thumb over the slight sting still lingering on my lip. "I thought you said the guy fled town? Who the hell were you fighting?"

"Three H Block runners" Nate says nonchalantly. "Teenagers. Just needed to let some anger out. Came out without a scratch."

Typical Nate. I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head as I open the door and step out of the car. He doesn’t do things halfway. I start pumping gas, my mind replaying the fight from last night. As much as I wanted to forget it, the tension wouldn’t leave my body.

After filling up, I walk into the convenience store to pay. The fluorescent lights buzz above as I hand over a twenty and grab a bottle of water for the road. Stepping back outside, my eyes instinctively scan the lot.

That’s when I notice it. a black sedan parked by the pumps a few spaces away. It’s the same type I saw near Nate’s house earlier. My stomach twists.

Has to be a coincidence, I think to myself, trying to shake off the paranoia. Now that I’ve seen one, I’m probably just noticing them everywhere.

The thought lingers, though, as I slide back into the driver’s seat. I glance at the time. 5:30pm. Almost time to pick up Y/n.

"You need me to bring you anywhere before I drop you off?" I ask Nate casually, adjusting my rearview mirror.

"Where you headed?" he asks, cracking his window and lighting a cigarette.

"I'm picking my girlfriend up at six." I say, sliding it in with just the right amount of smugness.

Nate’s head snaps toward me so fast I almost laugh. "Girlfriend?!" he repeats, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You kept that quiet."

I grin, knowing exactly how surprised he must be. "Didn’t come up."

He shakes his head, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. "Man, you soft now, huh?” 

“Maybe” I chuckle. “But if any questions are ever asked about this, say you and I got into it okay?” I say pointing at my lip.

“Is that what you told her?” Nate raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah man, couldn’t tell her I had someone pull a knife on me. She’d flip. She doesn’t know about the whole incident at the funeral, fuck, she didn’t even know about the funeral. You love to carry a knife on you too, so it check out in my brain.” I say shaking my head.

“God you’re in this thing a couple weeks and couples therapy is already calling.” Nate laughs.

Y/n’s POV

The courtroom had been stifling all day, and I was practically counting the minutes until I could leave. My phone buzzed just as I was tucking my notes and books into my bag.

"I'm out front. Take your time x."

A smile broke across my face as I read Chris’s message. This day had dragged on relentlessly, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Just the thought of being in his company made everything feel lighter.

I made my way out of the courtroom and through the courthouse doors, the crisp evening air hitting me as I spotted Chris’s sleek Mercedes parked at the curb. He looked out through the passenger window and his face lit up when he saw me approaching.

As soon as I got in the passenger seat, I leaned over to kiss him, melting into his warmth.

“It’s so nice to see you” he said softly, his eyes holding mine for a moment longer than usual.

“It’s nice to see you too” I replied, buckling my seatbelt.

He started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the space. “Where do you want to get food from?” he asked, glancing at me.

I didn’t have to think long. “Honestly? I’m really feeling McDonald’s right now.”

Chris laughed, his expression a mix of amusement and fondness. “If McDonald’s is what my girl wants, McDonald’s is what my girl gets.”

I couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t fancy, but I loved how he always made me feel like my choices mattered.

We headed to the nearest McDonald’s, sliding into the drive thru line. After some playful back and forth, we decided on a 20 piece chicken nugget meal with sweet and sour sauce, paired with two Pepsi’s.

When we reached the pickup window, the smell of fresh fries filled the car, making my stomach growl.

“You better not eat all the fries before we park” I teased, reaching for a couple as he handed me the bag.

“Hey, we both know fries have a lifespan of, like, five minutes” Chris shot back, smirking as he grabbed a few for himself.

We drove to Castle Island, the sky was now pitch black. Chris pulled into a quiet spot near the water, cutting the engine. The world felt still except for the occasional rustle of the trees and the distant sound of waves.

We opened the bag and dug in, alternating between nuggets and fries, laughing as we both reached for the sweet and sour sauce at the same time. It was simple, but moments like this with Chris always felt special.

“This is perfect” I said, leaning back against the seat, the salty tang of fries lingering on my tongue.

Chris glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make everything perfect.”

I felt my cheeks flush as I nudged him playfully. “You’re so cheesy.”

He chuckled, but his eyes softened. “Only for you.”

Chris smirked, tossing another nugget into his mouth as he turned to look at me. "I love having you as my passenger princess," he said, his tone light and teasing.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Passenger princess? Really?"

"Yup" he said with a grin. Then his expression shifted slightly, like he’d been meaning to bring something up. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, do you drive?"

I couldn’t help but laugh at the question. "Can I? Yes. Can I legally? No."

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Wait, what? Why not?"

"My driving test is coming up soon" I admitted. "I never really needed to know how to drive until we moved out of the city. So I only started learning recently. But honestly, the thought of the test freaks me out."

Chris chuckled, his smile softening. "That’s kinda cute. Don’t stress about it, though. And, for the record, I have no problem driving you around. I’d take you over Nate any day."

I grinned at his playful jab. "Speaking of Nate, have you talked to him since the whole argument?"

Chris nodded, his eyes flicking to the water outside the windshield before meeting mine again. "Uh yeah.. I was actually with him before I came to meet you. Everything’s cool now."

I nodded back, taking in his response. I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of me. There were questions I’d been holding back for a while, and now felt like the right time to ask. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course" he said, tilting his head slightly, his expression open.

"So.. in the gang or whatever you call it," I started cautiously, "is there anyone else like you and Nate in it?"

Chris paused, wiping his hands on a napkin before leaning back in his seat. "Age wise, you mean?"

I nodded, watching him closely as he mulled over the question.

He shrugged, his tone casual, but there was a faint edge to it. "Nah, not really. It’s just me and Nate in our 20’s. He’s the youngest, and I’m only a year older. Everyone else is in their thirties or forties or older."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Seriously? Just the two of you? That’s.. a little unexpected."

Chris considers this for a moment, looking out toward the horizon before turning back to me. "Yeah it can be weird sometimes. But Nate and I stick together. It’s not like the older guys treat us badly or anything, they just see us as the runners, not the ones calling the shots."

I nod again, chewing on his words, a tangle of thoughts forming in my mind. I decide to push some of the heavier ones aside, for now, focusing on enjoying this moment with him.

"You and Nate have always been close, though."

Chris smiled faintly, his eyes softening at the mention of his best friend. "Yeah, we are. He’s like a brother to me. Sometimes I just wish he’d get out of this life, you know? But I don’t think he’ll ever change his ways."

I wanted to tell him that he deserved better, that they both did, but I held back. Instead, I leaned into the moment, savoring the way he’s starting to open up to me.

"Well" I said softly, "I’m glad you two are okay now. And for what it’s worth, I like seeing this side of you, open, honest. It makes me feel closer to you."

Chris looked at me, his expression shifting to something tender and unguarded. "You’re the only person I feel like I can talk to like this" he admitted.

My heart swelled at his words, and I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his.

We sat there in the car, the last of the fries growing cold as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. But deep down, I felt like something had shifted between us, a step closer to understanding each other’s worlds, even if they were still so far apart.

"Can we go back.. to yours?" I asked softly, trying to keep my voice light, not wanting to come across as invasive. "I mean, I want to make the effort with your family, like you have with mine."

There was a brief silence before Chris responded, his voice a little uncertain. "Uh.. yeah, sure."

His hesitation wasn’t lost on me, and I quickly added, "If it’s too much, it’s okay, I just thought I could get to know your world a little better."

I saw his lips tighten slightly, and he turned toward me with an almost apologetic look. "No, it’s fine. It’s just.. it’s nothing compared to what you live in. Your house is so pristine and presentable.. whereas Uncle Jerry’s place, well.." His voice trailed off, the words left unfinished, as if he didn’t want to insult his uncle’s place.

My heart tugged at the mention of his uncle. I knew Chris had a complicated relationship with his family. He’d told me before that after his own family cut him off, he’d been staying with Uncle Jerry. I reached over, placing my hand gently on his arm. "That doesn’t matter to me, Chris. I just want to be with you, wherever that is."

He looked at me, his eyes softening, and I could see a faint relief in his expression. But then, I felt the need to add something else, something I’d been thinking about for a while. "And besides, I was thinking, when you’re out of all this, maybe you could try reaching out to your family. Maybe try rebuilding those connections."

Chris’s face hardened for a second, and he seemed to retreat inward. I held my breath, not sure if I’d crossed a line, but then he exhaled slowly, looking out the window.

"I don’t know, Y/n" he said quietly. "I dont know if they’ll ever accept me back. Not after everything." His tone was guarded, but I could hear the underlying pain.

I squeezed his arm, my voice gentle. "You never know. People change, Chris. And you’ve changed, too. I just think, maybe.. they might not be so quick to turn their backs on you if they see that."

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence between us stretched for a few moments. I wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but I didn’t press further. I could see he needed time to process it.

Instead, I smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, it’ll be an adventure, right? Going to Uncle Jerry’s place?"

Chris smirked, his eyes flicking toward me. "Yeah, if you call it that. You’re really sure you want to see where I grew up?"

I nodded, my expression sincere. "Absolutely. I want to know all of you, Chris."

A genuine smile spread across his face then, and he leaned over to kiss my forehead lightly. "Alright. Let’s go then."

We both settled into a comfortable silence as he started the car again, the city slipping away as we headed toward his uncle’s place. And though I didn’t know exactly what would happen when we arrived, I knew one thing for sure, I was ready to be there for him, just like he had been for me.

Chris’ POV

As we pulled up outside my uncle Jerry’s place on Medford Street, I couldn’t help but shake my head. The house didn’t exactly scream "homey" and in the low light, it looked even worse than usual. "It looks like a right trap house, doesn’t it?" I said, laughing under my breath, but my words carried that familiar bitterness.

Y/n, always the optimist, tried to reassure me. "It’s not that bad" she insisted, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was still taking in the sight of the place.

I just hoped Jerry wasn’t asleep on the couch. I wouldn't want to subject her to that, she didn’t need to see the way he lived. Shit, I barely could stand it myself. I’d hoped he’d be passed out in his room, preferably not stirring when we came in.

I reached over and unlocked the front door, the sound of the key turning in the lock echoing through the stillness of the night. The house was dark, which was perfect. The less Y/n saw of the chaos, the better. Exactly what I wanted, since you can’t see shit.

We stepped inside, the heavy smell of old furniture and stale air hitting me immediately. The house was quiet, too quiet. Jerry’s room was at the back, and the living room was to the left, with the usual mess of old magazines, fast food containers, and a busted-up couch. I wanted to get us to my room as quickly as possible, where things were.. more put together.

Since Jerry’s place was a bungalow, there wasn’t much to navigate. It was basically a long stretch with rooms off to the side. I led Y/n to the right, to the first door that opened to my room. I flicked the light switch, the soft glow illuminating the space, and I motioned for Y/n to come inside.

"This is where I crash" I said, trying to sound casual, but there was a tinge of pride in my voice. Compared to the rest of the house, my room was pristine and presentable. I kept it clean, I had to, if only to feel like I had something that was mine.

Y/n took a moment to look around, and I could see her eyes soften as she surveyed the room. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. A small bed, a desk neatly organised with books, and a few pictures hang on the wall. Nothing fancy, but it was a place where I could think, breathe, and for the first time in a while, I felt comfortable with her being there.

"Make yourself at home" I said, closing the door behind us. The place was quieter, calmer than the chaos outside, and it felt like a bit of peace.

I watched as Y/n moved around the room, touching a few things here and there, but not too much, respecting the space. I felt a sense of pride surge through me. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was a part of me, and in that moment, it was enough.

Y/n had sat down beside me on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked under her as she glanced around my small, dimly lit room. I could feel her eyes lingering on the few personal touches I had scattered around, nothing flashy, just things that made this place feel like mine. And for some reason, having her here with me felt different than anyone else ever had.

"You know" she said softly, breaking the silence. "I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately."

I turned to look at her, my heart tightening at the way she spoke. "What do you mean?" I asked, leaning back slightly on the bed to face her more fully.

She shifted, pulling her knees to her chest as she glanced down, then back at me. "I mean.. us. What we’re doing. What it all looks like in the long run. You know, once this.. all this.. is behind you." She gestured vaguely, the weight of what I was involved in hanging heavy between us. "I can’t help but picture us, together, in the future. Somewhere.. where we can just breathe. You and me."

My chest tightened, a lump forming in my throat. I knew what she meant, and honestly, I’d never really let myself think about it, about a future, about a life with her outside of everything that dragged me down. But hearing her say it out loud made it feel real. It made it seem possible.

"I’d like that" I said softly, my voice hoarse, vulnerable. "I’d like to have a future with you. Somewhere.. just us. Away from all this shit."

Her eyes softened, and she moved closer, settling in beside me on the bed. There was a quiet kind of understanding between us, the unspoken bond growing stronger with each moment. She leaned into me, her head finding its place against my shoulder. "We’ll get there" she whispered. "We just have to take it one step at a time, right?"

I nodded, my hand finding its way to her back, pulling her a little closer, the warmth of her body grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed. My hand slid to her side, fingers gently tracing the curve of her waist as we sat in the comfortable silence.

Then, without even thinking about it, I turned to her. Her face was close, the soft curve of her lips tempting, and before I could stop myself, I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, like we were both still figuring out what this was, what we meant to each other. But the longer it lasted, the deeper it became, until there was no space left between us.

I felt her hands move to my chest, pushing me gently backwards, and before I knew it, she was straddling me, her legs draped on either side, her breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps against my lips. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of heat flood through me, my heart racing as I looked up at her. There was a wildness to the moment, an urgency, but it felt right, like everything had led up to this. To us.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, then down to my chest, her touch sending electricity through me. My hands found their way to her hips, pulling her in closer, the warmth of her body against mine driving me crazy. But just as I was lost in the moment, just as everything felt like it was finally falling into place, the sudden beep of my phone broke through the haze.

I groaned, pulling away from her reluctantly as I reached for my phone. The alarm was a reminder—a notification for something I couldn’t ignore.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, silencing the alarm. My stomach tightens at the reminder.

“Shit” I mutter.

“Is everything okay?” Y/n asks, tilting her head slightly, her soft expression making me hesitate.

“Yeah.. it’s.. work” I answer, fumbling for the right words.

“Oh” she says, standing up from the bed. I can tell she’s disappointed, though she’s trying to hide it.

“What do you have to do?” she asks quietly, her voice almost reluctant.

I sigh. “I’ve got to deliver some weed. Just a fifty bag, so it’s not much. I can drop you home first, and then go do it. The dude knows me, so he won’t care if I’m a little late.”

“Yeah, that’s okay” she says with a small nod, but her shoulders sag just enough for me to notice. I hate this. Hate that I keep doing this to her.

We make our way out of my house and back to the car. I unlock it, and we both slide into our seats. The engine hums to life as I glance over at her. She’s staring out the window, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

“Have you made any attempts to try to leave yet?” she asks suddenly, her tone colder than before.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. “No.. not yet” I admit. “I said two weeks because.. because I have to figure out how to get out. It’s not as easy as just walking away.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her silence weighing heavy in the car. Finally, she speaks, her voice low.

“Where’s this going to?”

“Longwood” I reply. “Why?”

“You have to go through Longwood to get to my place,” she says, glancing over at me. “Just deliver this off, then drop me home. At least it gives me a bit more time with you.”

I hesitate. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m just throwing you home, either.”

“I’m sure” she says firmly. “Put it this way, it’s probably one of the last runs you’ll ever do, right? I’m glad to be here, ending this part of your life with you.” She gives me a small, reassuring smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The drive to Longwood is quiet. Occasionally, Y/n hums softly to the radio, but I can tell her mind is elsewhere. Mine is too.

When we arrive, I park a little down the street, avoiding the house. No way am I letting anyone see her here. I text the dude to let him know I’m here, and he replies almost immediately, telling me to meet him around the side of his place. I glance at Y/n sitting in the car, her fingers absentmindedly drumming on her knee as she stares out the window. I glance at her. “I’ll be quick.”

She nods, giving me a faint smile, though the worry in her eyes is unmistakable.

I lock the car behind me as I step out, tucking the fifty bag into my jacket pocket. Walking down the street, I keep glancing over my shoulder, my eyes flickering back to where the car sits. I hate leaving her like this, even for a few minutes.

I round the corner of the guy’s house and stop, positioning myself at the edge where I can still see my car. It’s a habit, maybe paranoia, but with Y/n sitting inside, I can’t take any chances. I lean against the wall, trying to shake the nagging feeling in my chest. I shouldn’t have brought her with me.

The dude comes out from the back of the house, his hoodie pulled up over his head. He nods at me as he approaches.

“Yo” he greets casually, pulling a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and handing it to me.

I slip him the bag of weed in exchange. ��All good?”

“Yeah, man. Easy.” he says with a grin before disappearing back into the shadows.

I turn to leave, relief washing over me. Simple. Quick. Just the way I wanted it.

As I step back onto the street, I hear the low rumble of a car creeping slowly toward me. My heart sinks.

A black sedan rolls up, its headlights off. It stops just a few feet from my car, parked awkwardly in the middle of the road.

A black sedan.

Again?

Something’s wrong.

I freeze, watching as the passenger window rolls down ever so slightly. My breath catches when I see it – a hand, pale against the dark, gripping the barrel of a gun.

“Fuck” I whisper, my eyes darting to the car where Y/n is sitting.

Before I can move, the first shot shatters the silence of the night, followed by the sound of breaking glass. My car’s back window explodes into shards, and I hear Y/n’s muffled scream from inside. The sedan’s tires screech as it takes off, leaving the street in chaos.

Fuck. Y/n.

a/n: BUCKLE THE FUCK UP BITCHES

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 9 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @mattsredgaphoodie

[faerybones3]

Me and the Devil

Simon interrupts your prayers. You mistake him for someone else.

simon x fem!reader | read on ao3

2.4k wc

cw: canon typical violence, blood and gore, a bit of religious psychosis for funsies, simon is a dick, religious imagery, simon manhandles you

The only sound you could hear was the hammering of your heart as you sprinted across the street, keeping yourself as low to the ground as you could in order to stay out of sight.

You just had to make it to the church. You knew you’d be safe there.

Rain sloshed around your ankles, soaking your shoes.

You turned a corner and halted, ducking behind a car, when you saw a group of men dressed in all black tactical gear and helmets. One of the men, their leader if you were to guess, was speaking in halting spanish to another man kneeling on the ground before them. You pressed your hand to your mouth to stifle your cry as the leader kicked the kneeling man in the head. 

You didn’t stick around to see what happened next. You knew all too well what happened to helpless women on these streets in the dead of night, and you had no interest in becoming their next meal. If they found you, they would not spare you an ounce of their wrath. 

When at last you came to the large church at the center of the city, you quickly checked the area for threats, and quietly slipped in through the front door.

For the first time in what felt like hours, you felt your body relax. Those men, the ones in all black, had invaded Las Almas, had invaded your home, overnight. In a matter of hours, they had turned the city into a feast of violence, gorging themselves on the blood of your friends, your people. 

But you had made it to the church. You were safe now. You were protected. 

Deft hands gripped the rosary tucked securely into your shirt as you pulled it out and over your head. You wrapped it around your hands as you approached the altar at the front of the church. A large stained glass window loomed over you as you kneeled. You quickly glanced up at it. The image of Jesus, bleeding and dying on a cross, looked down at you. The rain from outside warped the depiction, and he seemed to regard you with a kind of commiseration as you stared into the blue glass of his eyes. 

You bowed your head again and started to pray. 

You were so engrossed in your prayer that you didn’t hear the door creak open several minutes later. 

It was the heavy footsteps that echoed along the walls that finally made your head turn. A hulking figure, shrouded in shadow, stood in the far corner of the room. He blended so well into the darkness behind him that you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the tiny glint of white coming from the area where his face should be. 

You stood from your position on the floor, fearing the worst. 

He mumbled something you couldn’t hear and then began to walk forward. When he stepped into the light, you screamed. 

What looked back at you was something, someone, from your nightmares. Your childhood boogeyman. The one lurking in darkness, who would “get you” if you disobeyed your parents. Hulking and dressed in all black; his face, a mask of ivory bone. The priest would speak of him with wariness, warning you not to believe his false tongue, for his gift of temptation was a siren song. 

And he stood before you now. The devil had come for you. 

He held up his hands as his footsteps toward you quickened. You quickly unwrapped the rosary from around your fingers and launched it at him. It had no effect as it bounced off of his chest, landing with a dull clack onto the floor. Unfazed, he continued his march towards you. You frantically backed away from him, tripping on the steps up to the altar and landing on the heels of your hands. It was all in vain, he was too quick. He caught up to you in two strides and yanked you to your feet. It wasn’t until he covered your mouth with a large, gloved hand that you realized you had still been screaming.

“You need to shut the fuck up,” he said in a low, rough voice.

What had you done to deserve this? Had you offended God in some way? You had always tried your hardest to be good and faithful. Why was he punishing you now? 

Under his hand, you sobbed. Too paralyzed with fear, you couldn’t fight against his harsh grip. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and seeped into the fabric of his glove. The two of you stood like that for another minute, him looking at you with cold, dead eyes, until he spoke again. 

“Not gonna hurt you, but you’ve gotta be quiet. Can you do that?”

He wasn’t going to hurt you? It had to be a trick. But his grip around your face was near suffocating, so with wide eyes, you slowly nodded. 

His eyes squinted from behind his bone-white mask, clearly not believing that you wouldn’t try to scream again, but eventually he dropped his hand. 

You stood stock-still as he stepped away to mumble something into what appeared to be a radio in his vest.

Radio?

A man on the other side answered almost immediately, voice gruff, and you heard snippets of their conversation. Words like “shadows” and “graves” touched your ears in between the grinding radio static. 

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked when you found your voice. 

He mumbled something else into his radio before looking back to where you stood, still frozen, in the aisle. 

“Not really in the business of killin’ helpless women.”

You kept your eyes trained on him as you took a few steps and retrieved your rosary from where it had landed on the ground when you threw it at him. Bunching it in your hands, you glared at him. 

“You don’t fool me, diablo.”

His eyes narrowed at you from underneath his mask. 

“The fuck are you on about—“

Your heart dropped to your stomach as suddenly, a loud boom sounded from the front door of the church. The devil’s head whipped around at the noise. In a single moment, he closed the distance between you, grabbed your arm and threw you down like a rag doll between the nearest pews.

“Stay down,” he growled. 

Having no choice but to obey, you shoved your head between your knees and scrunched down, willing yourself to become as small as possible. 

In the next moment, you heard the sound of the church doors crashing open with a resounding bang. Heavy footsteps followed. 

A booming voice sounded from the other end of the room. 

“Found you, asshole.”

And then, gunshots. 

Bodies thudded to the floor, someone screamed, and the sound of a blade cutting through flesh rang in the air. You clapped your hands over your ears, praying for all the world that this was all just a nightmare that you would soon wake from.

As the noise died down, you craned your neck to look up. Half a dozen bodies littered the floor, looking more like pincushions than people. There, in the center of the room, the devil stood in the middle of it all. With the strength of ten men, he had savagely cut them down as if they were nothing but insects. Bile rose in your throat at the sight, but you quickly forced it back down with a groan.

Assuming the worst was over, you attempted to rise to your feet, only for something large and heavy to crash into you, bowling you over. Your back ached as it hit the cold wooden floor. You cried out in pain and shock. Something, no, someone had pushed you back down. 

Before your brain could process what was happening, a man came into view above you and used one giant arm to pin you to the floor. His other arm was raised above your head, and you noticed the glint of a knife clutched in his hand. 

You screamed. Your arms shot out and you desperately clawed at the man, using all the strength in your body to fight him off. But he was twice your size. You were nothing to him, useless in defending yourself.

His body suddenly went slack as a bullet lodged itself in his throat. Hot, sticky blood poured out of him, leaking onto your face, your nose, your mouth, suffocating you. The knife fell from his fingers and clattered to the floor. His heavy head dropped to your chest and you desperately scrambled to shove him away. You rose on unsteady feet for the second time, gripping the back of the pew for balance. You wiped frantically at your face and your hands came away covered in scarlet gore.

When you looked up, you saw your infernal savior staring back at you, gun in hand. He regarded you for a moment; he seemed to be thinking hard about something. His eyes then raked over your ragged and bloodstained figure, and you felt small and weak under his intense gaze. 

You broke eye contact to retch onto the floor. 

While you spilled the contents of your stomach, he barked something into his radio again and then set to work removing a plate carrier vest from one of the many bodies strewn about the place. As soon as you sat back up, he thrust it into your arms. 

“Put it on, we’re leaving.”

You stared at him for a beat, vest in hand, your breath coming in croaking gasps. Surely he didn’t mean for you to go with him? Was he kidnapping you? 

“Now!”

You flinched. Once again, he left you with little room for argument. You couldn’t stay here; surely there would be more of those men coming now. You could already hear the faint sound of gunshots in the distance. 

The one place you thought you would be safe, now ripped out from under you. 

With shaking hands, you slipped the vest over your head and attempted to tighten the straps, but it didn’t do much good. The vest was huge, and you looked and felt ridiculous in it.

You followed your devil protector out the front door, walking quickly to keep pace with him. He held his gun to his chest, eyes searching constantly for hidden threats. More gunshots sounded in the distance, getting closer with every step you took. 

As you reached the gate surrounding the church, you spotted a man on the outside.

“Ghost!” He yelled when he spotted you both. 

“Soap!” 

Ghost? Soap? What kind of names were these?

Your devil, Ghost, grabbed your arm and mercilessly pulled you along. Once through the gate, he shoved you in front of him and, ever the bodyguard, caged his body around your own as the three of you ran down the steps. 

“We need a vehicle, on me-!” He was so close, you could feel the sound of his shout reverberate through his chest. 

You ran across the street, ducking behind abandoned cars for cover as the boom of gunshots surrounded you on all sides. You had never been more terrified. The only thing keeping your body moving was the adrenaline pumping through your blood and the unrelenting hand gripping your shoulder. 

Up ahead, you saw a truck with the lights still on. The other man had seen it too, and yelled. The three of you sprinted to it. Approaching the truck, the pressure on your shoulder subsided as you were released. He threw open the backseat door, grabbed you again by the vest, and unceremoniously threw you into the back of the truck. 

You landed on the backseat, but quickly rolled over to the floor. You kept your head down as you felt the truck back up, hit something, or probably someone, and then stop. One of the men shouted again and you heard another gunshot. You didn’t dare lift your head to see what had happened. You learned your lesson from last time. 

The truck started moving again and the men remained quiet up front, catching their breath. You didn’t rise from the floor for another few minutes. 

At the sound of you climbing up to sit in the backseat, the second man looked back at you. His eyebrows scrunched up and a brief look of shock passed over his face, as if just now processing your presence. 

“Who the fuck is this?”

Ghost’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror briefly before he turned his attention back to the road. 

“Civ,” he said quietly.

The man looked aghast.

“We babysittin’ now?”

There was a tense moment between the men. The air in the truck felt stiflingly hot. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you remembered the drying blood that still coated your face and body. You wished they wouldn’t talk about you as if you weren’t there, but you bite your tongue. 

“She’d be dead if I left her.”

“She’s no safer with us, L.T.”

Ghost didn’t respond.

You opened your mouth to speak, but an uncontainable giggle burst from your lips as sudden realization dawned on you. 

“Lieutenant,” you said as another, louder laugh escaped you. 

You doubled over, fully cackling now at your own stupidity. Of course he was no devil. He was just a man. How foolish and afraid you had been. 

Of course your God had not forsaken you. He had sent you a savior. Albeit a very strange and terrifying savior, but a savior nonetheless. The devil had not come for you. At least not yet. 

The two men silently watched you as you laughed. Tight concern pinched the face of the man riding shotgun. When your laughter died down, he twisted fully in his seat to face you. There was an almost cautious smile on his face, as if you were a wild animal that would bite him if he made a wrong move. 

“Name’s Johnny, miss.”

You wiped the heel of your hand across your cheek and told him your own name. He nodded politely and turned to the other man. 

“And, eh— Ghost,” said Johnny, gesturing awkwardly with his hand. 

You scoffed under your breath. “Weird fucking name,” you said quietly. 

Ghost’s eyes darted up to yours in the mirror again, and Johnny barked a laugh of his own.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em, L.T.”

[goreandbunnies]

⛧☾༒︎ 𝔇𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 ༒︎☽⛧

Sukuna x Reader, Toji x Reader

Summary ๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Almost six months after meeting him, I had finally managed to escape. At least that's what I thought, hidden in that alley, holding my breath and waiting for the search party to get further away from my spot. But this city was his, he had eyes everywhere. I needed to leave as far away as I could."

Warnings ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Explicit language, sexual explicit scenes, sexual assault, drugs and alcohol, explicit violent scenes, gun violence, emotional and physical manipulation, dub-con, mentions of cults, blood and blood play, knife play.

Word count ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ 10.5k (in progress)

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more & @cafekitsune

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1

Six months earlier 1.

The music was blasting through the club’s speakers as our group got inside, my friend Amy leading us all to the VIP booth she had reserved for us.

She had booked half of the fanciest, high end club in town to throw the most indecent bachelorette party humanity had ever witnessed. I didn’t know where to watch - the entire place was either shining or sparkling. Chrome, black and white all over the walls and floors, where the lights reflected on the mass of sweaty bodies dancing around us. The very long and exclusive waiting list to get in made the few people allowed in there feel privileged. Blessed.

“I can’t believe you managed to book that club, Amy,” another friend of ours gasped as she looked around as well.

“Ben is friends with the owner, when we said we wanted to plan both parties here, he offered to book it for us,” Amy replied, filled with pride. I smiled at her.

Amy had been my best friend since high school - she and I were polar opposites but somehow ended up inseparable. She was tiny, blonde, a social bee, always chatting with new people and making friends whereas I liked the quiet and the comfort of my inner circle.

I readjusted the pink “maid of honor” sash on my tight red dress and watched as Ben - the future groom - and his party arrived. They had decided to do a joint party to enjoy the lush club and I knew Amy wanted to keep an eye on Ben to make sure his cavemen friends wouldn’t hire a stripper for him.

“Hey there,” a voice said behind me, hands grazing my arms. I shivered and took a step away.

“Hey,” I gave Brad - Ben’s best friend and best man - a polite smile but took another step away from him just to be sure.

Brad and the rest of the party were in high school with us. We all grew up together. He used to bully me for being too tall, standing out in any girl group, only to hit on me constantly now that we were both adults. Except I had zero interest in the preppy looking guy in the slightest. Whenever he was around me, all I wanted was to run away.

“Looking good tonight, want me to get you something to drink?” He stepped forward to basically scream in my ear over the music. I placed a couple of fingers on his chest and kept him away.

“I’m not drinking anything you bring me,” I smiled again, this time struggling to stay polite.

“After all these years, really?” He laughed, as if it had been a fucking joke to him. “It was one time and you had so much fun,” he said as he sat heavily on the black cushioned seats.

“You fucking roofied me and I almost drowned in the pool at that frat party,” I spat at him angrily.

“Water under the bridge, baby. It’s in the past, you should move on,” he laid his arms out on the back of the seat as Ben and the rest of the guys sat next to him.

Sick of him ruining the night for me, I gave him the middle finger before heading for the VIP section of the bar where Amy was ordering shots for us girls. I dropped on a stool and sighed.

“Lemme guess, Brad?” Amy asked as she collected the shots and placed them on a tray. I nodded.

“I don’t know why Ben is still friends with that asshole,” she shook her blonde head, her curls bouncing around. “I mean everyone knows what he did and no one bats an eye cause his father is loaded,” she rolled her eyes before placing a shot in front of me and taking one for her.

Amy was the one who had driven me to the police station to press charges against Brad. She yelled at each and every officer until one sat down to take my statement. But one flick of Brad’s father's checkbook and the file disappeared into oblivion.

“As long as he doesn’t come near me, I can tolerate his presence,” I said before clinking my glass with hers and downing the shot in one gulp. Amy hummed in pleasure as she looked around before turning back to me.

“Don’t look but there’s a guy who’s totally checking you out over there,” she discreetly nodded over her shoulder. I chuckled.

“How can you tell, maybe he’s checking you out,” I made sure not to look as ordered but curiosity was getting the best of me.

“Cause of this,” she pointed at her plastic tiara with a veil, her short black dress and her “future bride” sash. She turned around again to peek and I followed her gaze to a gigantic, scary looking guy.

That man looked like every single red flag packed into a pile of muscles, bodyguard type, with a burning stare and a vertical scar on the side of his mouth. He seemed to be a couple of years older than us, early thirties, but he had nothing in common with the guys sitting a few feet away. He was violence incarnate and even from afar, standing still, arms crossed over his large chest, I could feel the anger coming off him in waves.

Amy was right, it wasn’t her he was staring at, but me. Quite openly. His stare lingered on me for a while, taking in the length of my bare legs up to the red dress I was wearing, the tattoos on my arms - my damn boobs and eventually, his eyes locked with mine. I raised an eyebrow before returning the favor and eyeing him down.

The black t-shirt he was wearing didn’t leave much room to imagination - his arms were the size of both my legs together and his chest seemed to have been molded in pure iron. When I looked at his lower body, I wasn’t surprised to find that his legs matched his arms - the thickest thighs known to man wrapped in tight black suit pants.

My eyes ran up to his broad shoulders, thick neck then up to his face, eyes dark partially hidden by slick dark hair falling in front of them. He sure did look scary, yet I couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful. The rage that vibrated off him was intoxicating.

Somehow, I got the feeling that he felt out of place, like a fish out of the water down here with the mass of bodies and loud music. The permanent frown on his face was pretty clear - he wasn’t happy to be here and he was not to be fucked with.

“Damn he looks scary,” Amy raised her eyebrows at me before a new song played, causing her to shriek like a banshee. “That’s my song! Let’s get on the dancefloor, where are the girls?”

She took my hand and dragged me away, not before I managed to give the stranger a small smile and for a second, I swore I saw the scarred corner of his lip rise.

Copyright © goreandbunnies, bitchcraft18 2024, all rights reserved, do not repost, use or plagiarize. Do not translate.

Taglist ♥ @sweetlandspos @tojislittleprincesss @paradisestarfishh @unheavenlypacked

[catboydreamer]

“i’m not your toy.” Scaramouche x reader

includes misunderstandings and vague descriptions /implications of a explicit relationship so keep that in mind.

the two of you had a routine at this point. a simple rhythm that started with accidental stumbles . it started slow with lingering touches and ended with hands on thighs, grips on waists and everything in between. 

he started to get suspicious, though.

every night, you’d leave him, hastily putting on your clothes that were discarded in a hungry haze. 

you never looked him in the eye, refusing to let him see how your heart ached and most importantly, you didn’t want to see how he felt. 

after yet another night of this, he lays on the bed, propped up by his elbows. he burns right into you, eyes narrowed. he feels something deeply for you, and it’s burning right through him. 

before you can scurry away, he throws the sheet across the floor, marching up to you. 

he doesn’t care anymore about social standards or anything ridiculous like that. his hand comes up quick and hot to hold your face to him. 

you see the anger in his eyes, red eyeliner smeared around the edges. it confirms every fear that ever came across your mind. you try to swallow but it just hurts.

“I’m not just some fuckin’ toy for you to play with and discard. this ends here. got it?”

with that he pushes you away, your head inches from hitting the door. and finally, you can breath. and you want to say something. anything to get him to understand how you truly felt. 

“kuni-“

you have never seen him whip around so fast in your life. he pushes you into the wall, his arm pressed to your throat, threateningly. his eyes glow blue, and tears start to form within the rims. 

“dear god?! are you fuckin’ stupid? you don’t GET to call me that.” 

your heart starts to break and you can’t stop the tears and how your shoulders start to shake. 

“kunikuzushi, I-i love you.”

he loosens his grip, his arm falling as he stumbles backwards. 

“w-what? what did you just say to me?” he’s pleading at this point. 

the glow in his eyes slowly fades,  flickering in and out. 

“I love you. i was scared you didn’t feel the same. so of course, I tried to hide it by never letting you see how I looked leaving. because it broke my heart.” 

slowly, he moved forward. as you looked at him fully, you saw his flushed pink cheeks and a quivering smile on his lips. he looks up at you slowly as he finally reaches you again. a hand comes up gently to your left cheek. you lean into it.

“we’re so stupid.” is all he said through tears rolling down his face.

it took you by surprise, eyes widening until all you could think of was this; pry his hand off your face and pulling him in for a hug. you rub his back as he chokes out loud sobs. 

he’s been holding this in for weeks. he hated how it made him feel. 

you hold him until he can look at you again. 

it’s when he’s looking up at you with tired and sorrowful eyes that you realize he never truly confirmed his own feelings. 

you smile, “so what is it? do you love me too, then?”

scara huffs, shoving you off. he falls back onto the bed. he crosses his arms. 

“isn’t it a bit obvious?”

you pretend to think, “hm. not obvious enough. mind explaining it, pretty please?”

“god, you’re so annoying. of course, I love you, you brat.” and yet, saying this makes his face and the tips of his ears turn a shade warmer than they once were. 

before he could protest, you jumped at him, peppering his face in small kisses. 

he tries to push your face away with his hand but his grip is weak. he sighs, a smile overcoming his face unintentionally.

this , you vow to always make him smile like that over and over again. 

[fa1ry03]

Under the lights

Author's Note: Hi! This is my very first piece, and I wanted to start with something short and heartfelt. It’s just a little blurb about comforting Joe Burrow after a tough loss because let’s be real—he deserves all the love after putting his heart on the field. I wanted to capture the mix of angst and tenderness that comes with moments like these, while keeping it intimate and meaningful.

I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think—your feedback means everything as I’m just starting this journey. Thanks for reading! 🧡🏈

(630 word count) Send in request plsss!

After the Game

The room was heavy with defeat. Joe sat slumped on the edge of the couch, still in his team-issued hoodie, his damp hair falling in loose strands across his forehead. The television flickered with highlights from the Steelers' win, each replay a fresh wound he didn’t want to acknowledge.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching him. He hadn’t said much since he walked in—just a gruff

“Hey”

before retreating into himself. You knew better than to push too soon. Joe’s quiet after a loss wasn’t unfamiliar, but tonight, it felt heavier, sharper.

Finally, you stepped forward, your socked feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. You plucked the remote from his side and turned the TV off.

“Joe,” you said softly, lowering yourself onto the couch beside him. “Talk to me.”

He didn’t look at you, his hands clasped together, knuckles white. “What’s there to say? I played like crap. We lost.”

“That’s not all on you.”

“Feels like it is,” he murmured, his voice rough. “The team counts on me. Fans count on me. And I... I let them down.”

The vulnerability in his tone broke your heart. You reached out, placing a hand on his thigh, grounding him in the moment. “You’re human, Joe. Not a machine. You cant carry the team by yourself, Jor”

He finally turned to look at you, his blue eyes clouded with frustration and self-doubt. “But I want to,” he said, his voice cracking. “I want to be better. For them. For you.”

“You are enough,” you said firmly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatpants. “No game, no win or loss, changes that.”

The words hung in the air between you, and something in him softened. His shoulders dropped, and he exhaled a shaky breath.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling him into your arms. He didn’t resist, burying his face in the curve of your neck, his large frame trembling slightly as he let go of the weight he’d been carrying. You held him close, running your fingers through his hair, murmuring reassurances until his breathing steadied.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone.

“Don’t start,” you teased gently, pulling back just enough to cup his face. “You’re stuck with me, Burrow.”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face before his expression turned serious. “I mean it,” he said, his voice low, raw. “You’re my anchor, Y/N.”

You leaned in, pressing your forehead to his. “And you’re mine.”

The air between you shifted, charged with something deeper, more intimate. His hands slid up your sides, his touch featherlight but deliberate. You shivered, caught in the storm of his emotions.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” you murmured, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

He hesitated, his gaze searching yours, before finally surrendering. “I need you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The night unfolded slowly, a tender exchange of love and comfort. You traced every scar, kissed away every doubt, and held him until the burden of the loss faded into something distant and unimportant.

In those quiet hours, the game didn’t matter. It was just you and Joe, wrapped in the safety of each other, rebuilding the confidence the world had tried to strip away.

😊

[a-wolfs-bad-moon-rising]

Are you there L.T.?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Student!Reader

(Finals are coming up and I think nothing more than fluffy Ghost would help more than anything.)

(Fluffy fluff from the big man himself)

My eyes crack open and I stare up at my ceiling. Daylight floods in through my windows illuminating the room. I hear the soft hum of my heater trying to keep my apartment warm in contrast to the cold wind bustling outside.

I sit up on my elbows and blink bleary-eyed, scanning the room. It feels like I hadn't slept at all. I just wanted to take a nap. I haven't been sleeping well at night because it's exam week and I'm beyond stressed. I nibble my nail as the anxiety sits in and I reach for my phone. I pray that more time as past since I laid down for a nap.

The cushions under my legs sink in as I lean forward. I pick up my phone and tap the screen. I blink a few times before registering that I had only been asleep 10 minutes.

With a groan I toss my phone to the side and put my face in my hands. I squeeze my scalp, my fingers closing around strands of my hair and I breathe shakily.

I can't believe how much the stress is getting me. I will myself not to cry and an idea pops into my head. Maybe there's someone who could provide moral support. I look at my phone a moment before picking it up. I tap on a familiar app and scroll through. He may not even be on leave. He may be deployed somewhere. He almost might not care to talk his old teammate off the edge during something as trivial as exams.

But he was always a good guy. Someone I looked up too who provided comfort when I needed it. Worth a shot. Who is it? My old Lieutenant. Simon "Ghost" Riley.

I tap on his contact and send a message.

LT?

I wait a few moments aching for a reply before I realize it probably won't come. I get up and with a pop of my joints I head to my shower.

Behind the bathroom door, I open a closet and pull out a fluffy towel. I set it on the counter before picking through my closet for a change of clothes. I turn the knobs in my shower. A few squeaks and the water flows through the shower head. The water was cold at first, the temperature picking up a few minutes later. I watch the steam rise and I undress getting under the spray.

I spend a good amount of time decompressing and allowing the water to soothe my body. I had just lathered myself up with soap when I hear a ping from my phone. Almost breaking my neck jumping out of the shower, I haphazardly dry my hands off before picking up my phone and tapping the screen.

I smile seeing the ghost icon. Suds slide their way down my body but I pay no mind as I open the text

(Y/N).

Always a man of a few words.

Long time no see. Are you in the area by chance?

I am for now. What's on your mind?

I'm struggling with finals and the stress is getting to me. Can't sleep, any ideas?

You've been on countless missions with 141 and finals got your nerves going?

I freeze and sheepishly reply.

Yeah.....

I had left the military after my contract ended. I kept close contact with the other members. I'm particularly close with Soap. Price was always fatherly and Ghost, I leaned on him a lot inside and outside the military.

Want me to come by?

I smile and type out my response before I finish my shower.

I'd like that it'd be nice to catch up!

Once I finish cleaning, I towel off and get dressed. It'll take Ghost about half an hour to get to my apartment so I settle on making a snack as I wait for him.

A knock at my door has me rushing to open it. Standing there is Ghost. I'll be honest it took me a bit to get used to his face without the mask.

"LT!" I exclaim a little to enthusiastic.

He nods at me with a ghost (see what I did there?) of a smile.

"(Y/N)"

I smile and open my arms. He awkwardly does the same and I'm just happy he's indulging me. I lay against his chest and give him a squeeze. His smile subconsciously gets bigger and he holds me back.

I let him into my apartment and he looks around.

"So finals gettin ya frazzled?"

"Yeah.....I thought after the military nothing would stress me out but this....civilian life is worse."

"Ain't that the fuckin truth."

"I just can't wrap my head around this." I gesture to my textbook. "How the hell am I supposed to know the answer to....this?"

I show him a question in my book. His eyes barely scan it before he gives me an answer. I deadpan before looking it up.

"You did not fucking know that." He chuckles and leans towards me.

"Give me another." He says with a cocky grind. We go back and forth and he irritatingly gets ALL OF THEM. He even caught on when I was bullshitting and flicked me in the forehead.

"Ow!" I yelp

"Don't act like a brat jus because yer strugglin." He says simply. I grumble and rub my head as he laughs.

"Alright I'll help ya siddown." He says.

"No LT I can't take another second if studying."

"I said sit." I blush and comply sitting next to him as he picks up my book. I groan and he shoots me a look.

He goes back and forth with me explaining problems and helping me figure them out. Towards the end I finally start to get the hang of it. I answer the last question, the one that gave me the most trouble.

"Are you sure?" His unreadable eyes pierce me and I stress. I squeeze my hands and look at him.

"I'm sure." He looks at me blankly and I start to sweat.

"That's right." He says. I breathe a sigh of relief and fall against my cushions.

"Thank GOD!" Ghost chuckles at my enthusiasm.

"Atta girl I knew ya could do it." He says and I flush.

"Thanks LT you always did make things easier on me."

"Ah that was all you love. Jus needed a little help is all." He says and I blush.

He stands up, his massive frame towering over me and stretches.

"Well let me take ya out and we can get some dinner."

"Really?"

"Sure let's go. Don't tell Johnny, damn bastard always tryin to get a free meal out o me."

I giggle at the mention of Soap and I grab my jacket and gloves go layer up. I pull my boots on and brave the cold. I look at him and in confirmation. He opens my door and let's me out shutting it behind us. I lock my door and we start walking down the street.

We banter for a few minutes catching up on what the rest of the crew is doing. A snowflake melts on my neck and I shiver. Without a word Ghost takes off his scarf and wraps it around my neck. His hands brushing my hair and shoulders. Thank God the cold made my cheeks rosy already. We get to a bar and he opens the door for me. I stamp my feet out and we sit at the bar.

"What'll ya have?" He asks me. I give him my drink order and he orders for me. I sit next to him happily.

"When's your exam?" He asks me. I sigh.

"Tomorrow." I say. He nods.

"You'll be jus fine love." He gives me one of his rare Ghost smiles. We order food and keep talking about the good old days and how things are now. I realize how homesick I've been for the 141. I'm stuffing a French fry in my mouth when I hear a loud voice.

"Blood 'ell." Ghost sighs and I smile knowing what's got his nerves. I swivel in my chair and look at beautiful blue eyes. The Scotsman smiles at me.

"Soap!" I exclaim and hop off my chair. I jump up and hug him and he holds me back.

"Hey there lass. How ya been?" He asks me and I nuzzle his chest.

"Good Soap! I missed you!" He smiles and picks me up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest.

"I missed ya too lass. What're you and the missus doin ere?"

I giggle

"He was helping me study for my exam tomorrow." Soap feigns hurt and looks at me.

"Oi why didn ya ask me fer help?. Instead ya ask our tightass oer there?" He says. I laugh and Ghost pipes up.

"Johnny you're a bloody sod." He says. Soap smiles at him and sits down.

"I am not go on quiz me. I'll be I get more right then you."

After a humbling experience, Soap settles to joking around with us and sharing my food. We watch the rugby game on the television and go back and forth talking. I sit happily between the two men and feel content being around two familiar people.

"Thank you guys. This has really helped."

"Always lassie."

"Anything for ya love."

Later on that night they walk me home. I walk in between them and the follow me all the way to my door. I undo the scarf Ghost gave me and hand it to him. Soap snatches it and wraps it stupidly around his head. Ghost shoots him a death glare but doesn't bother taking it back. Soap smiles cheerily at him.

He opens his arms to me and I hug the Scotsman tightly.

"Goodnight Soap. Thanks for being here."

"Always lass, treasure seein ya." He kisses my hand and I blush. I turn to Ghost. He carefully gives me a hug and Soap smirks at him.

"G'night love. Good luck on your exam t'morrow. You'll be jus fine."

I smile and let him go.

"Thanks LT."

They let me go inside and I crawl under my warm covers. I lay sleepily against my pillows and relax. I feel more content than I had in a while and I gently sleep.

The next morning I stand in front of my classroom. I grip the straps to my backpack tightly and shift from foot to foot. I try and calm my nerves. I was never the best test taker. I go to take a step when my phone goes off a bunch of times. Vibrations felt through my pocket as I get bombarded with messages. Wondering what the hell is up I open my screen and my heart melts. It's a group chat from the 141.

(Soap): Oi. Everyone wish (Y/N) good luck on her exam today. Not that the lass has to worry her pretty little head

(Price): Good luck love. You were an amazing soldier, you got this.

(Price): Get back to work Soap.

(Gaz): Ayeooo (Y/N) has finals? Knock em dead sweetheart!!! 🫶

(Konig): Gut luck Liebling

(Keegan): Showtime (Y/N) we got your back

(Roach): Good luck!

(Ghost): Good luck soldier.

I read the messages happily soon the chat turning on Soap and instead berating him. I giggle.

(Y/N): Thank you guys! I'll do you proud.

(Keegan): We know you will sweetheart. Soap was that you I saw walk by in that stupid scarf?

(Soap): Why yes it was

(Ghost): it's not stupid

(Price): I didn't know we were all jerkin off today. Let the girl take her test and get the fuck back to work.

(Soap): Aye sir

(Ghost): Roger

(Keegan): On it Capn

(Konig): I will get back to it

(Roach): I wasn't a part of this.

I laugh at the messages as they cease. My phone vibrates one more time and it's a separate message from Ghost.

(Ghost): Stop stressing. You've always been a bad test taker but you're more than capable. Kick ass today.

(Ghost): I'm proud of you

My heart melts at his words and I beam. He was always a man of few words but this meant the world. I take a breath and head into my class to take the final. My mood and confidence boosted knowing I have a whole army behind me.

~~~~~

(Soap): Wow I like it a lot!

(Wolf): Thanks me too!

(Soap): I like how you shamlessly added me in there.

(Wolf): *blushing* Soap you're basically my husband at this point of course I'm going to.

(Soap): *Rolls eyes* Shameless

(Ghost): You procrastinated studying to WRITE about studying?

(Wolf): Hell yeah I did. And it worked.

(Ghost): That makes no sense.

(Wolf): Yes it does shush.

(Soap): Lass no it doesn't.

(Wolf): *pouting*

(Ghost): Get the 'ell over ere and study!

(Wolf): B-but!

(Ghost): NOW!

[admirationandromantics]

Going overboard, 7: Loss

Told you that you would get two chapters tonight! Actually felt so bad about the last chapter, but I promise, none of the others are that short. Personally, this one was the funniest one to write, playing around when Josh is at his worst (I promise I'm a good person), but I like having a bit of freedom with everything yk? Anyways, hope you like it, and get ready for chapter 8 tomorrow <3

❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀

The lights turn on, and Ashley’s crying. Chris is still intact. I let out a breath of relief. 

“No, no, no get away” Ashley shouts. We all move closer, seeing the Psycho walking slowly towards them. Chris aims the gun, shooting him several times. For a minute, I forget about the fake bullets, and my hand covers my mouth to keep me from shouting. Josh laughs. 

“Oh Chris, oh Chris Chris Chris Chris.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of blanks before?” 

“I mean, really?” 

He takes off his mask, revealing himself. 

“Josh?” Chris asks, confused and tired. Ashley keeps blinking, and Sam runs forward, getting her untied. Josh keeps laughing. 

“Josh!” Sam exclaims, probably glad to see that he’s okay. I look down, and can't meet his gaze. This is not the Josh I know. He doesn’t stop laughing. 

“Josh…” Mike says. 

“Oh, oh, very good. Every one of you got my name!”

“And after all you’ve been through! Good, good-good-good. I mean, how does that feel? Right? How does it feel? Do you enjoy feeling terrorised, humiliated, panicked? All those feelings my sisters got to feel that night one year ago. Only guess what, they didn’t get to laugh it off, no, no, they’re gone.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed Josh, but none of us are laughing” Mike scolds. 

“Oh come-come-come-come-come, why the long faces? Come on. It’s good to get the heart racing every now and then, right? And race they did, I mean, every one of you, just pitter-pat, pitter-pat! I hope you appreciated my little phantasmagorical spectacle! I mean, no detail too small, no opportunity missed.”

I walk over to Chris, getting him untied as well. I notice a camera some paces away. He fucking video-recorded all of it. 

“It was such a delight to play the puppet master to all of you Pavlovian panic. And all that gore! I mean, it was gore galore! Fake bodies, I mean, god that shit was expensive. Oh, and no retakes, only double-takes! Hook, line and sinker for every little stinker!”

“Josh, why are you doing this?” Sam asks. 

“Don’t even ask this squirrelly little runt. He’s got no clue, he’s out of his fucking tree” Mike yells. 

“He’s off his medication” I state. “And he has been for a while.”

“Awe, come on you guys. Revenge is the best medicine!” 

“You’re done!” Mike threatens. 

“Mike, he’s sick” Chris adds. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s gone way overboard, but he’s obviously having some sort of episode” I support, looking down at Chris. 

“What, I do know what I’m doing, you guys are going to thank me when you become internet sensations.”

“What, what?” I exclaim. 

“Oh you bet this is going viral ladies and germs. I mean, we got unrequited love, extreme grief, gore, blood. Oh so much blood! I don’t think there’s enough hard drives in China to count all the views we’re going to get you guys.” Mike shakes his head. 

“What are you talking about, you ass-hat. Jessica is fucking dead!” 

“What?” Everyone turns to Mike. 

“Did you hear me?” he asks, walking slowly towards Josh. “Jessica is dead, and you’re going to fucking pay you dick!” he shouts as he hits him in the head, making him fall to the ground, eyes closed, and not getting up. 

“What the hell Mike!” I yell. 

“You stay fucking out of this!” he shouts back, pointing at me. “This fucker is going to pay, you hear me!”

I don’t say anything else. If he really did kill Jessica, then we can’t do anything else about it. We all make it upstairs, Chris has tied his hands, and I hurt just looking at him. I have to keep reminding myself that this is for everyone’s safety. 

“What are we going to do?” Sam asks. 

“Emily and Matt went to the radio tower for help” I say. 

“When?” 

“After this freak faked his own death” Chris adds. 

“And they haven’t come back yet?”

Shit. During everything, I had forgotten about them. 

“Well, one thing is for sure, this guy is not staying here” Mike states. 

“So where should we take him?”

“The shed?” I ask. If he had a whole set-up there, it might be livable for a night. 

“Okay, you coming?” Mike asks. I nod in reply. 

“I’ll come too” Chris adds. 

“We’ll wait here for Em and Matt” Ashley states. 

***

We take Josh outside, the guys being harsh and brutal. I just look down, not facing either of them. As long as they don’t really physically hurt him. 

“Guys, come on, seriously, this is crazy you know” Josh says, refusing to keep going. 

“Shut up man, the only crazy here is you”

He looks over at me, pleading. “Come on, you love me, you care about me, you wouldn’t do this”

“Just till the morning, Josh, so we can get you some help.” Mike keeps pushing him, eventually leading him to losing his balance and falling. I grab hold of his arm, lifting him up again. But right when he’s on his feet again, he tries to run back to the lodge, causing Mike to shove him again. 

“Good God” I whisper. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“Locking you up, bro” Mike snarls. “So you can’t do anything stupid before we call the police in the morning”

“Come on, I didn’t do anything-”

“Are you serious?” Chris interrupts. 

“You’re a goddamned murderer, is what you are” Mike interjects. 

“I didn’t do it. Michael please, just listen to me man. I did not hurt Jessica.”

“Guys, we don’t know anything for sure” I add. 

“Listen to her, she’s saying I didn’t do it”

“Josh, we don’t know anything, just keep silent till tomorrow, please” I plead. 

He stays silent for a while, making it easier to get him to the shed. 

“You’re just seeing what you want to see. You’re blind!” Josh yells. 

“Stop talking!” Mike shoots back, throwing him down. 

“Mike…” I yell, and Chris immediately follows. “Dude, chill”

Mike gets over him, holding him in place. 

“It’s not my fault you suckers can’t take a joke”

Mike twists his hands, making Josh give a small whimper. “Oh, wait, did I hurt you? Did you just feel a little bit of pain?”

“Mike” I threaten. There’s no use acting like this when he’s obviously not in the right state of mind. 

“Oh, I’m so soooo sorry” Mike continues taunting. Josh continues to shout, telling him to stop. Chris looks away, unsure about how to handle the situation. 

“Mike stop it” I tell him, and he forces Josh up on his legs again. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am that something happened to Jessica, but it wasn’t me, I swear I don’t know what happened” Josh explains. Something feels wrong, but I can’t wrap my head around it. When it happened, what was Josh doing? Chris finally interjects. 

“Josh, do you really expect us to trust you after everything you’ve put us through?” 

He starts laughing, maniacally. I can’t face him, can’t see him like this. 

“Can’t we all just get along?” he asks in a child-like manner. Mike grabs him, and I don’t know what else he’s doing but it makes Josh scream. “We’re not dicking around.” Mike starts pushing him into the shed. 

“This was not how it was supposed to go down, this was not, just not…” Josh continues rambling. 

“You’re just a bunch of bullies! You can’t hang me out to dry like this!” 

I sigh, tired and exhausted, like I’ve been all night. Josh keeps yelling, Mike pushing, and Chris seems completely shattered. He’d lost his friend too many times today. 

“Not like you got the guts to do anything about it, huh?” Josh continues, pining Mike. 

“Ohh, you’re the biggest coward there is” Chris chimes in. 

“Uh huh? I did something! I made you believe in a world that I created, and I showed you parts of yourself you were too afraid to visit!”

“Would you shut up Josh!” I yell, everyone looking at me with surprise. “You tricked us, you manipulated all of us, your friends, me… And you did all of this while hiding behind some screens in a basement with a mask. Don’t you understand how fucked up this is?” My voice cracks, and I can’t help it. Anger, annoyance, betrayal. I was there, I could’ve helped him, he kissed me. He distracted me in the worst way possible just to shut me out yet again. 

Mike turns back, taking hold of him and forcing him on a chair beside a pole. Josh continues grunting in protest, shouting at us. Both the guys tie the rope around, having to hold him down while doing it. 

“Can’t tie him up if he just wiggles around!”

“Josh”

“Give me a little wiggle room!” His eyes are nothing like what they usually are. It seems like some type of spark has left them, which is now filled with a dark fog. 

“Plastic ties, way more good for hostage situations…” Josh mumbles. 

“What the hell is going on with him?” Mike asks. 

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him like this before” I answer. 

“It’s so difficult to see him like this” Chris adds. 

“Ashley’s a dumb dumb…” Chris turns to him, asking what the hell he’s talking about. 

“Well, I said you’re a dummy dummy!” 

“Chris don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying” I plead. Josh starts making kissing sounds, teasing and pining Chris. 

“You know what that sound is? It’s the sound of never kissing Ashley you pussy!” 

“Stop!” Chris grabs a plank, already holding it in the air. 

“Josh, please”

“You know, you might as well let Ashley sleep with Mike.” I look over at Mike, and he’s already looking around confused, unsure about the circumstances of the whole conversation and how it led back to him. I shake my head to him, urging him to stay out of the whole thing and don’t contribute to the fire. 

“I mean, at least he has some notches in his belt. He’ll treat her right!” Josh shouts as he’s humping the air. 

“You’re fucking pathetic Christopher!”

“I’m going to beat his fucking head off!” Chris shouts. I quickly grab the plank, dragging it out of his hands. 

“Don’t listen to him, man, it’s not worth it” Mike tells him, hand on his shoulder. Josh shifts his target, looking over at Mike and starts repeating his name. 

“What is it Josh?”

“What happened with Jess, Mike?”

“You know what happened” 

“No, no I don’t. I’ve got a problem Mike-”

“No shit Sherlock” Chris whispers. Josh continues. 

“I don’t remember killing Jess…”

“Christ”

“I mean, like, I feel like I would remember killing her, you know? She’s so soft… And she’s probably got like, a really tight bod”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Mike screams, aiming the pistol at him. 

“Woah, woah, woah, Mike” I carefully thread. “Put the pistol down.” He lowers it, staring at him with contempt. 

“Josh, will you please just shut up?” I urge him, trying to persuade him. 

“Only if you give me a little show.” My annoyance and anger cover the slight missing of him. 

“You know…” he starts. 

“You were a fucking obstacle in my whole thought-out plan” 

“I mean, some of the thrill of it is being a bit spontaneous, right? And the only way I manage to get you out of my way was to literally fuck you senseless!”

I take a deep breath, this isn’t him, he would never say stuff like this. The other guys look surprisingly my way, Chris waving his arms in an awkward manner, not knowing what to do. 

“And like, fucking we did! And when you figured it aaaaall out? There was no other thought that came to mind than to get you down and going and on and on and on…” he keeps chanting, and I lift the plank in the air and hit him. Hard. 

“Shit, why the hell did you do that?” Chris asks. Mike just shakes his head, glad that the continuous mumbling is gone. Josh is knocked out, and Chris’s immediate reaction was to check for a pulse. 

“I didn’t fucking kill him” I scold, but he just gives me a dirty look. 

“You guys go back to the lodge, I’ll stay here” Mike offers. I shake my head. 

“No worries, I’ll stay here with you. Maybe he’ll wake up in a better state of mind, and if he does, I need to apologise.”

“I’m going to leave him with the guy who pointed a gun to his head and the girl who knocked him out?” Chris asks, and we both nod. 

“Fine, just don’t hurt him again, please?” he says as he makes his way outside, walking back to the lodge.