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brunchable · 23 days ago

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This is Your Boyfriend Mom? [3]

Pairings: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Our savage wittle boi Lucas x f!Reader.

Summary: It's Lucas' 7th Birthday and Bucky finally meets the Dad from Finance. Bucky also FINALLY got a haircut lmfao.

A/N: I will just keep posting Step-Dad Bucky content, this doesn't really have set plot, just cute and funny moments while Bucky navigates how to be a Dad.

The Night Before the Party

You were busy setting up the last of the birthday decorations when you heard the front door open. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then Lucas came sprinting into the living room, eyes wide, looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

“Mom!” he shouted, excitement and shock mixed in his voice. “Bucky’s back, and... uh, something’s wrong with him!”

You raised an eyebrow, turning toward the door just as Bucky strolled in, a smirk playing on his lips. You froze, your hands still holding the banner you were about to hang up.

Bucky had chopped his hair. Gone were the long, unruly locks he’d been hiding behind for months, replaced by a clean, short trim that made him look—well, if you were being honest—like he’d just walked off the set of a cologne commercial. Looking absolutely handsome.

“Wow, look at you. All... polished.” You blinked, trying to suppress a grin.

Before Bucky could respond, Lucas crossed his arms, pacing around him like a tiny detective on the case. “So, Mr. Metal Mop finally decided to join the human race, huh?”

“Really, Lucas?” Bucky sighed.

“Oh yeah. You’re like a whole new person,” Lucas continued, squinting at him. “Seriously, who are you, and what have you done with the walking disaster that usually lives here?”

You let out a snort of laughter as Bucky’s jaw twitched. “It’s just a haircut, kid.”

Lucas tilted his head, eyes narrowed as he pointed dramatically at Bucky’s head. “This? This is not just a haircut. This is a ‘I’m about to show everyone I’m the coolest guy at this party’ haircut.”

“What? No, it’s not! I’m not trying to show off.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, smirking like a seasoned detective who’d just cracked the case wide open. “Oh really? ‘Cause you didn’t care about looking like a caveman until now, right before my party. Coincidence? I think not.”

“I just felt like a change, alright? This has nothing to do with the party. I’m not trying to outshine anyone.” Bucky crossed his arms, standing taller, trying to play it cool.

Lucas grinned wider. “Uh-huh. Sure. So, you just happened to get a haircut right before a big event? Not competitive at all?”

Bucky groaned, clearly trying to keep his cool. “I’m not trying to compete with anybody. I just thought I’d make things... easier for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, right. Easier. You know, if you wanted to look good for once, you could’ve just said so.” Lucas snorted, shaking his head.

Bucky’s jaw twitched as he quickly looked to you for backup, but you were too busy laughing to jump in.

Lucas leaned in dramatically, whispering, “You can relax, Bucky. We all know Mom doesn’t love you for your looks.”

You burst out laughing, clutching your sides as Bucky stared at Lucas, half-amused, half-offended.

“I’m not—,” Bucky started, running his hand over his hair again. “It’s just a haircut!”

“Oh, sure,” Lucas said, stepping closer, his face serious but his eyes full of mischief. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that Patrick’s gonna be here tomorrow? You’re not trying to look cooler than him? You know he works out, right?”

Bucky frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “Patrick works out?”

Lucas shrugged. “Yup. I heard him mention it once. But hey, at least now you look like you can keep up.”

“Please. I don’t need a haircut to keep up with your Dad.” Bucky crossed his arms and scoffed.

Lucas smirked, still circling him. “Mmhmm. That’s why you’re all cleaned up—so you can make sure nobody at the party outshines you.”

You were practically doubled over at this point, tears streaming down your face from laughter.

“I’m not competing with anybody!” Bucky insisted, throwing his hands up.

“Right, because getting a ‘too cool for school’ haircut right before the party is totally not competitive.” Lucas grinned wider, seeing that he had Bucky cornered.

Bucky clenched his jaw, still trying to hold his ground. “This is a tactical haircut. Streamlined. It’s practical.”

Lucas grinned, clearly not buying it. “Oh, tactical, huh? Right. Is that what you’re gonna tell everyone tomorrow? ‘Hey, check out my tactical haircut. You like?’”

Bucky chuckles and points at Lucas, “Okay, that’s it. You’re done.”

Without warning, he lunged forward, scooping Lucas up and flipping him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Lucas squealed, laughing uncontrollably. “Bucky! Put me down!”

“Oh no,” Bucky said, shaking his head as he carried Lucas toward the couch. “You’re gonna sit here and think about your life choices.”

Lucas, still flailing and laughing, managed to gasp, “At least I didn’t need a haircut to look cool!”

Bucky plopped him down onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re gonna pay for this tomorrow, kid. You just wait.”

Lucas grinned up at him, still breathless from laughing. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, give me a tactical timeout?”

“Unbelievable. You’re supposed to be on my side here.” Bucky glanced at you, exasperated but unable to hide his smile.

You finally managed to calm down enough to speak. “Oh no, I’m staying out of this. Lucas is absolutely right.”

Lucas beamed with pride as he gave you a thumbs-up. “See? Mom knows what’s up.”

Bucky groaned again, dropping down onto the couch beside Lucas. “Alright, fine. Have your fun tonight. Tomorrow, though, I’m stealing all your cake.”

Lucas gasped, feigning horror. “Not the cake!”

Bucky grinned, leaning back. “Oh yeah. Tactical move.”

× × × ×

The birthday party was in full swing, with kids running around, balloons everywhere, and Lucas at the center of it all. You were watching from a distance, laughing softly as Bucky awkwardly navigated the chaos. He was holding a cupcake in one hand, clearly out of his element, but smiling nonetheless. Everything was going smoothly.

The Avengers were scattered around, trying their best to blend in. Clint was at the snack table, sampling every kind of chip he could get his hands on. Tony was in full I’ve-paid-for-everything-here mode, handing out goodie bags like they were shares in Stark Industries. Nat and Steve were casually watching the kids play, exchanging side glances, while Sam was trying (and failing) to explain some complex game rules to a group of seven-year-olds.

Everything seemed perfect.

Until he arrived.

“Uh, hey,” Bucky muttered to you, nodding toward the door. “That’s, uh… him, right?”

You turned to see Lucas’ dad, Patrick, making his way into the party, looking a bit too put-together for a kids’ birthday—pressed suit, perfectly styled hair, and an aura of someone who had just closed a very important deal five minutes before arriving.

“Yep. That’s Patrick,” you said, trying not to laugh at the grimace on Bucky’s face.

Patrick spotted Lucas and waved. “Hey, buddy! Happy Birthday!” He strode over confidently, handing Lucas a brightly wrapped present.

Lucas opened it, pulling out a brand-new Nintendo Switch. He looked up at his dad and gave a polite smile. “Uh, thanks, Patrick.”

Bucky, still watching from a few feet away, cocked his head. “Why’s he callin’ him Patrick?”

You shrugged, whispering, “Lucas just started calling him that on his own. I think it confuses him.”

Patrick glanced over, finally noticing you and Bucky standing there. He smiled—though it was more of a tight-lipped one—and made his way over, extending his hand to Bucky.

“Hi, I’m Patrick. Lucas’ father,” he said, with an air of someone who’s used to introductions being brief and businesslike.

Bucky hesitated for half a second, staring at Patrick’s perfectly manicured hand like it might explode. Then he awkwardly wiped his own hand on his jeans before shaking it.

“Bucky. You know, the boyfriend.”

The words hung in the air like an awkward mist. Patrick’s smile twitched. “Ah, yes. The… boyfriend. Great to meet you.”

They stood there, shaking hands for what felt like five or ten seconds too long, neither one letting go, each one’s grip tightening ever so slightly. You watched from the side, holding back a laugh as the tension built.

Finally, Patrick cleared his throat and let go. “So, uh, how’s the party going?”

Bucky shrugged. “Good. You know, kids. Loud. Messy. Chaos.”

Patrick nodded, chuckling awkwardly. “Ah, yeah. Well, you know, in finance, things are a bit more... orderly.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Finance, huh? That sounds... fun.”

Patrick straightened his posture, clearly missing the sarcasm. “Oh, it’s very rewarding. Numbers, investments... making sure the market flows smoothly.”

Bucky blinked. “Yeah, I bet. I usually just stop markets by throwing people out windows.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Patrick stared at Bucky, unsure if that was a joke or a confession.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand. “So, how about that gift?” you asked, trying to change the subject. “Lucas, do you like it?”

Lucas, who had wandered over to Bucky’s side, gave a polite nod. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

Patrick smiled, clearly not noticing how forced Lucas’s enthusiasm was. “Glad you like it, buddy.”

As Patrick turned to talk to one of the other parents, Bucky crouched down next to Lucas and whispered, “Hey, what’s up, buddy? You don’t seem that excited.”

Lucas looked up at Bucky and sighed. “I already have a Switch. He bought me one for my 6th birthday. He just… forgot.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, glancing between Lucas and Patrick, who was fidgeting with his phone. “Ah. I see.”

Patrick, overhearing, laughed nervously. “Well, uh, you can never have too many Switches, right?”

Bucky stood up, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah. Or, you know, you could... I dunno, maybe remember what you got your kid for his birthday last year.”

Patrick blinked, clearly not sure whether Bucky was joking or not. “Well, you know, with finance and all... numbers just blur together sometimes. I have a lot on my plate.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Right. Numbers blur. Must be hard to forget when you’re counting millions.” His voice was laced with sarcasm.

Patrick chuckled, but it was the kind of chuckle people do when they’re uncomfortable. “Yeah, well… finance life.”

Bucky gave him a pointed look. “Yeah, but I bet remembering your kid’s birthday gifts doesn’t really blur with anything, does it?”

Patrick looked away, clearly flustered, mumbling something about "busyness" as he shifted awkwardly in his suit.

From the other side of the party, you could see Clint and Tony watching the exchange with amusement, whispering something to each other while Steve shook his head at the spectacle. Nat gave a sly smile in your direction, clearly picking up on the tension, while Sam made a “yikes” face, pretending to zip his lips as if to say, Yup, this is awkward.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, and you let out a snort of laughter, patting Bucky on the arm. “Well, Lucas, now you can... switch between your Switches?”

Lucas looked up, a confused smile on his face, while Bucky chuckled softly under his breath. Patrick, however, just stood there, looking like he wished the earth would swallow him whole.

Patrick, cleared his throat and forced a smile. “So, Bucky, what did you get Lucas for his birthday?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing at you for a second before smirking. “Oh, I didn’t go the ‘two-of-the-same-gift’ route,” he teased, earning a snicker from you.

Patrick’s forced smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Right, but I’m sure you got him something nice.”

Bucky gave a nod, gesturing toward the corner of the room. “Got him a custom-built bow and arrow set.” He paused for effect. “You know, something a little more memorable.”

Patrick blinked, clearly caught off guard. “A… bow and arrow? For a seven-year-old?”

Bucky crossed his arms, still smirking. “Hey, I’ve got a friend who’s pretty good with those. Thought it might be a good skill to have. Besides, Lucas loved it.”

Patrick glanced over at Lucas, who was currently showing the bow set to Clint, who was eagerly demonstrating how to hold it properly. Lucas was grinning from ear to ear.

Patrick, trying to recover, chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I’m sure the Nintendo Switch will still get plenty of use.”

Bucky leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough so only Patrick could hear, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, if Lucas forgets he already has one.”

Patrick's smile tightened again as he awkwardly laughed, clearly regretting asking.

From the sidelines, you could see Tony and Sam observing the whole interaction with raised eyebrows. Tony leaned over to Sam, whispering,

“I’m giving this five minutes before Finance Dad taps out.”

Sam grinned, nodding in agreement.

× × × ×

The birthday cake was finally brought out, candles lit, and the room filled with the excited chatter of kids and adults alike. Lucas stood proudly at the center, his face glowing in the soft flicker of the seven candles. Everyone gathered around the table, cheering him on.

"Alright, everyone!" you called out, smiling down at Lucas. "On three! One… two… three! Make a wish, Lucas!"

Lucas squeezed his eyes shut and puffed out his cheeks before blowing out all seven candles in one swift breath. The room erupted into cheers, and you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

Just as the cheers started to die down, someone in the crowd—most likely Tony—yelled out, “Time for a family picture!”

The laughter and chatter quieted as you, Lucas, and Bucky moved toward the cake, ready for the photo. But, just as Bucky stepped up beside Lucas, Patrick appeared at the other side, standing just as close.

Both Bucky and Patrick froze, their eyes locking in an awkward stand-off. Neither moved, both unsure of what the protocol was in this moment. Patrick chuckled nervously, shifting on his feet.

“So… family picture, huh?” Patrick said with an awkward smile, trying to ease the tension.

“Yeah. Family picture,” Bucky replied, his tone flat, clearly unimpressed.

The two men stood on either side of Lucas, staring at each other, neither willing to give up the spot closest to the boy. Lucas, meanwhile, was too focused on choosing the biggest slice of cake to notice the tension brewing between the two.

Clint, who had been quietly observing the whole thing from the side, leaned over to Natasha and whispered, just loud enough to be heard by others, “Looks like someone's gotta blink first.”

Natasha smirked but said nothing, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her.

Sensing the growing awkwardness, you tried to step in. “Um, you know what, why don’t we take a couple of pictures? That way, everyone gets in,” you suggested, hoping to break the standoff.

But neither Bucky nor Patrick moved. Instead, they both shuffled even closer to Lucas, determined to be the one standing right beside him. Patrick forced a smile, trying to mask his discomfort.

“Well, I mean... I’m his dad, so...” Patrick began, his voice light but strained.

“And I’m here every day,” Bucky shot back, his voice deadpan, arms crossing as if he was daring Patrick to push further.

They stared at each other, tension hanging in the air, both waiting for the other to step back. By now, the Avengers had all noticed. From the other side of the room, Tony leaned over to Sam, his voice a stage whisper that was impossible to miss.

“Who’s taking bets? This is about to get good,” Tony said, grinning.

Sam chuckled. “Ten bucks on Bucky. He’s got that murder stare locked and loaded.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, stepping forward before things got any more awkward.

“Alright,” you said, laying down the final word. “Bucky, you can be in this one. Patrick, you’ll be in the next one.”

Both men blinked in surprise, caught off guard by your no-nonsense tone. Bucky gave a small, smug smile and slipped into place beside Lucas, casually throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders.

Patrick nodded stiffly, his smile tight and forced. “Sounds fair.”

“Great,” Tony clapped his hands dramatically, clearly reveling in the tension. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Everyone say ‘awkward’!”

The camera flashed, capturing the moment, Bucky’s subtle triumphant grin beside Lucas, while Patrick stood to the side, looking like he was mentally calculating how soon he could make a polite exit.

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pin-k-ink · 3 months ago

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WICKED ⋆✦⋆ narumi gen

synopsis ➸ when hoshina’s daughter lands the role of narumi’s vice captain, he can't resist the chance to mess with his rival. narumi’s got a plan, and it starts with using you to hit hoshina where it hurts most.

tags ➸ dilf!narumi, huge age gap (20s + 40s), a darker look into the rivalry between hoshina and narumi, male masturbation, obsessive behavior, dub-con, biting, hair pulling, hand job, unprotected sex, dirty talking, daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling, nipple play, he takes a picture of you, marking, dry-humping, manhandling, begging, narumi is kinda icky and depraved (to me)

wc ➸ 5.2k

Narumi lounged back on his bed, the springy mattress creaking beneath his weight as he flicked idly through the file on his tablet. Just another stack of recruitment dossiers to mindlessly skim - no different than the hundreds before it. At least, that's what he assumed until your profile photo filled the screen.

His brows hiked as he drank in the sight of you. Silky hair framed delicate features and eyes that seemed to glimmer with subtle challenge even through the static two-dimensional image. But it was the curves emphasized by the figure-hugging uniform that really caught his wandering attention.

A low whistle slipped past Narumi's lips as heat began pooling low in his abdomen. "Well, hello there..." He muttered appreciatively, gaze roaming your form with undisguised interest. "They didn't even do you half justice in those crappy file pics, did they gorgeous?"

You were... captivating. All plush curves and soft skin just begging for his rough palm to trace exploratory paths. And those full lips? Narumi's mind instantly supplied visions of them stretched obscenely, choking back whimpers of pleasure as he—

"Down boy," he chided himself with a rumble of amusement. There'd be plenty of time to properly indulge those baser thoughts once you arrived. Despite approaching his mid-forties, the man was still fit enough to make good on the many fantasies that had started to occupy his waking moments. He may not have the same vigor as his younger self, but age and experience brought other benefits that would undoubtedly have you screaming his name in no time.

For now, he flicked back through the summary to refresh his memory on the cold data.

20 years old. The one who’s replacing Hasegawa as his second-in-command. Steadily rising star with a spotless record of distinguished field service...and the daughter of Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro.

Narumi's jaw clenched at that last tidbit. Figures the old man would angle to foist his progeny off on the rivaling division somehow. He could practically taste the smug glee Hoshina must have felt in using you as some bizarre pawn to antagonize him.

But a slow, wicked grin curved Narumi's mouth as he raked his heated stare over your photo once more. Nestling back against the pillows, he allowed the fresh fantasies to unfurl - visions of making his old rival watch helplessly while he slowly unraveled that perfect, pristine exterior. Imagining how righteously affronted Hoshina would look witnessing his only daughter coming undone on Narumi's cock.

"Could just eat you right up, couldn't I sweetheart?" The rasped endearment felt like velvet over his smirking lips. "You have any idea how many times your pretty little face is gonna make me bust some seriously sweet nut while I'm ruining Daddy's pride and joy?"

He punctuated the sleazy musing with a squeeze to his rapidly stiffening cock straining his sweats. The dull friction elicited a gruff moan of approval as Narumi's lids fluttered shut, losing himself in the prospects.

He pictured tossing those sweat-slick tresses back as he savagely railed into you from behind, splitting you open on his dick until you could do nothing but babble incoherencies and keen for mercy. Or maybe he'd start off slower - string you along with velvet whispers and feverish caresses until you turned into a mewling, quivering wreck desperate to get fucked like the wanton slut he envisioned lurking beneath that girl-next-door facade.

Either way, Narumi intended to make sure every unraveled cry and shudder wrenched from your abused form was branded indelibly into his skull. There wouldn't be a single encounter where he didn't thoroughly decimate you on every level before sending you waddling back to dear-old-Vice-Captain-Daddy with his cum dripping down your trembling thighs.

Narumi growled around the punched-out moan tumbling free as his cock pulsed eagerly at the twisted visions. His fist worked faster, palm slick with precum that undoubtedly ruined the sheets but he didn't give a solitary fuck. Nothing seemed to matter beyond stoking this molten need into a blazing crescendo while imagining all the sick, wild ways he could defile that spit-polish perfection the second you—

A crisp series of raps shattered through the heated reverie, yanking Narumi back to the present with a frustrated groan. He snatched a pillow to cover his straining erection just as the door creaked open and you stepped across the threshold, spine ramrod straight and every inch the composed professional.

You faltered almost imperceptibly upon catching sight of him sprawled indecently, sheets rumpled and still panting harshly. The widening of your eyes and delicious bloom of pink tingeing those lovely cheekbones was nearly enough to fray his unraveling composure instantly.

"Captain Narumi," you offered by way of formal greeting, determinedly avoiding his blatant state of undress like a seasoned pro. "I've arrived to assume my new duties as your Vice-Captain. If you'll just—"

"No need for formalities here, sweetheart," he cut you off with a roughened purr that seemed to make your breath hitch. Tossing the pillow aside, Narumi sat up and utterly drank in the sight of you.

"You're among friends now," a wolfish grin curved his lips as those hooded rubies roamed over your form. "So how about we skip all the bullshit introductions...and you start making yourself comfortable?"

Over the following weeks, Narumi made a blatant show of keeping you firmly tucked under his wing. To the outside ranks, it appeared the fearsome Captain was simply being an attentive mentor, guiding his fresh-faced new Vice Captain through the rigors of frontline leadership.

But Narumi couldn't resist reveling in the dark undercurrents simmering beneath his motivations. Watching you exceed every lofty expectation during field operations only stoked the flames of his twisted fascination. You moved with such lethal grace, like a blade glinting amidst the chaos - cold precision personified.

But Narumi hungered to shatter that icy control utterly. He wanted nothing more than to strip away those layers of professionalism until only your basest, rawest essence remained bare and molten for his conquest. So he carefully curated reasons for you to remain at his side as often as possible - utilizing every slight pretext to keep your presence firmly under his command.

It started small - having you compile tactical briefings and oversee training drills rather than delegating the tasks. Minor details that would place you at his hip far more than strictly necessary. Before long, you were practically operating as his personal adjutant in addition to upholding official vice captain duties.

And then there were the excruciating nights where Narumi would deliberately dawdle long past reasonable working hours - flaunting his expectation that you remain steadfastly at your post regardless of the late hour or flimsy excuse for lingering at headquarters.

Those were secretly his favorite indulgences though - surreptitiously watching you toil over piles of paperwork from the comfort of his private office. There was something darkly tantalizing about observing you like that - hair tousled, sleeves rolled up to reveal your forearms, throat working soundlessly as you chewed your plump lower lip in concentration.

Without fail, his gaze would hungrily trace each subtle line and swell of your body beneath the unforgiving military-issued uniform. On more than one occasion, Narumi nearly slipped by rutting himself to sticky completion right there while fantasizing about bending you over that very desk to give you something far more needful to keep occupied under his pitiless scrutiny.

Just the mere thought of the breathless, muffled whimpers you'd choke out around his brutally thrusting cock always had Narumi's spent length twitching in renewed interest with embarrassing immediacy. His hands itched to drag you flush against his chest where he could inhale the sweet, floral notes of your hair while grinding his stiffening cock right against the pert curves of your ass until you were quaking with helpless surrender.

Those dizzying urges only worsened in the evenings when Narumi could hear you on the phone handling your usual obligatory updates to dear-old-daddy back in the Third Division. Your voice always took on an unconsciously cloying lilt, saccharine and bright like the innocent child you undoubtedly had been once upon a time.

"Mm, of course Daddy...Captain Narumi keeps me working extra hard, but I can handle it." You'd chirp with breezy confidence that never failed to make the broad strokes of his cock throb wantonly.

Narumi pictured the look of shock that would undoubtedly cross Vice Captain Hoshina’s face if he realized just how thoroughly your new commander intended to put that boundless "dedication" to the test. The mere vision of his long-time rival recoiling in outraged propriety at the first lascivious groan Narumi would wring from those rosy, forever-tainted lips was nearly enough to make him combust on the spot.

"Tell Daddy you've been an exceptionally good girl for me," he'd nearly slurred out loud more than once in the thrall of his depraved musings. "And I might just give you a special...reward to really cement that hard-earned praise."

On more than one agonizing occasion, you'd caught his molten stare lingering far past the point of discretion and promptly flushed crimson. Those lovely eyes would widen with something like self-conscious alarm before darting away in an awkward flight response. But the tiny crinkle of your brow and minute tremble to your fingers never failed to betray the tiniest spark of intrigue you clearly had yet to extinguish completely.

Narumi drank in each visceral tell and reaction with ravenous gulps. Every inadvertent confession of lingering curiosity strummed deeper chords of delirious longing in his core, threatening to come completely unraveled before his unslakable need to thoroughly decimate what was left of your untainted command over yourself.

After all, how could you not sense at least some inklings of the maelstrom steadily brewing behind Narumi's heated appraisals by now - when he radiated the banked force of his rapacious hunger like a sundering gravitational collapse? His every wicked regard carried wordless promise to eventually draw you screaming and writhing into the ensuing black hole of undoing so imminent between your inexorably entangling orbits.

Narumi watched you move about his quarters with undisguised hunger simmering behind his hooded stare. The taut lines of frustration etched across your features as you ranted only added a delicious edge to the visceral appeal he found in your presence these days.

You'd truly settled into your role alongside him over the past month - embracing the leadership mantle with the same unflinching grit he'd glimpsed in those early scouting reports. Narumi relished witnessing you command the same level of deference and respect from the Division ranks that he himself did.

Except when you were alone together like this. In these unguarded moments, he couldn't resist basking in the brief flashes of unrestrained fire you allowed to slip through your carefully curated control. The way your cheeks would flush with indignant heat, those thick lashes flaring wide as temper overrode decorum if only for an instant.

In those precious slivers of heightened emotion peeking through, Narumi allowed himself to envision stripping away the last vestiges of propriety altogether. He pictured the furious blaze that would undoubtedly blaze behind your gaze while he hauled you bodily against him - pinning you captive with his body while subjecting your jawline to the scorching brand of his hungry mouth.

Would you fight him at first? Try to slap or shove ineffectually until the first punishing sweep of his tongue parted those plump, scolding lips on a gasp of shock? Narumi's cock twitched eagerly at the mere thought, already envisioning the sweet capitulation of your struggles once he utterly drowned you in sin.

"—are you even listening?!"

Your sudden spike in volume sliced like a scalpel through the thick miasma of carnal imaginings clouding Narumi's thoughts. He blinked twice, reality re-asserting itself with your stormy features hovering just in the periphery of his vision now, radiating wrath.

"You realize this is the fifth meeting you've foisted off onto me in as many days, right Captain?" The venom dripping from your final word indicated you wouldn't accept any more of his brushoff distractions.

Good. Narumi felt the first flickering tingles of excitement dance along his nerves. This abrupt shift in your demeanor set his blood singing with visceral promise of the imminent clash to come.

Still, he affected an air of indolent nonchalance - giving a shrug as he leaned further back into the plush office chair. Narumi deliberately let his thighs part wider, inviting your incensed focus towards the subtle print of his cock already straining beneath his sweatpants.

"So?" The single word carried a taunting cadence rich with dismissal. Narumi felt the first stirrings of unrepentant glee brew in his core as those lovely eyes sparked hotter, flicking down despite your feigned disregard. "Sounds like you're finally earning your keep around here instead of me having to cover your sorry ass."

There it was. The first telltale signs of your composure beginning to splinter around the raw edges at last. Narumi could see your chest rising and falling more rapidly, could practically taste the indignant heat beading along your exposed collarbones.

He licked his lips in a slow, pointed sweep just to drive the final nail home. "But please...do go on wasting any more of my time rehashing those precious little meetings. It's so cute how seriously you take yourself sometimes."

Your jaw ticked almost imperceptibly at the jibe. Narumi felt his restraint stretching thin as he drank in every visceral fracture in your mask - every harbinger of the impending eruption barreling straight towards his carefully curated machinations.

Then, as if snapping from some suspended reverie of your own, you finally pivoted to face him directly. Narumi's breath stalled between his clenched teeth as you stalked towards his lounging form with tightly leashed vehemence.

Your expression was a thunderhead of open displeasure and restless, quaking need as you closed the final distance. Only when you were directly before the chair and his spreading thighs did you halt - glaring down with scalding reproach and barely banked rapture.

Narumi released the breath he'd been holding on a hissed inhale as your proximity swamped his senses. He could taste the heady floral notes of your shampoo from this distance. Could see the way the low vee of your uniform gaped just enough to offer a maddening sliver of cleavage left flushed and sweat-dampened from your tirade.

He tried to draw his gaze back up, to meet whatever furious retort you'd inevitably unleash head-on...only to falter upon the quiet, yet utterly lascivious noise that emerged ragged from his very core instead.

You froze instantly at the punched-out, needful groan rumbling from Narumi's strained chest. Your irises flared wider as shock spilled through those lovely pupils expanding with the first inklings of dawning, visceral understanding between your locked stares.

Narumi didn't move a muscle as you searched his expression with rapt, breathless focus. Daring you to find anything short of searing, unrepentant lust radiating from every taut line of his form in that suspended heartbeat. Daring you to acknowledge the final plunge you stood quivering upon the precipice of claiming for yourself should either of you so much as draw another haggard inhalation.

A fresh bead of sweat traced a maddening path between the velvet swells of your breasts, damp hair now clinging against your flushed nape as something profoundly heated kindled behind that momentary stupor. Your tongue peeked out to trace the plump swell of your lower lip - a reflexive, innocuous gesture that Narumi somehow felt ricochet straight through his groin like a bolt of lightning.

He couldn't take it anymore. Narumi growled low in his chest, rising up and reaching out to seize a handful of your hair. He pulled your startled yelp straight into his mouth, swallowing it down with an unholy groan as he claimed your lips with the bruising crush of his own.

As he expected, you tensed instantly - the instinctive desire to shove and slap and scream warring with the visceral, carnal urge to reciprocate. Narumi could taste the frantic conflict swirling between your gasping breaths, could feel the first tremors of desperate surrender trembling through your frame before he felt your teeth sink sharply into his lower lip.

Narumi jerked back with a snarl, hand still fisted painfully in your hair. You glared at him with such unrepentant, furious defiance that he felt the final thread of his restraint snap clean. He surged back in, wrenching your head back and baring the smooth column of your throat to his greedy mouth.

He latched onto the tender skin of your collarbone, sinking his teeth and tongue into the flesh and relishing the strangled moan he wrung free from your lips. Narumi dragged his palms roughly along the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against his chest in a violent collision. He ground his pelvis upwards, the insistent press of his arousal dragging a shuddering whimper from your parted lips.

"Didn’t your Daddy ever teach you to respect your superiors, little girl?" Narumi purred the taunt against your ear, feeling his cock jerk at the breathy whine his words ripped free. He could feel the way your spine arched against his chest, hips tilting down to grind against his throbbing length despite the feeble attempts you made to shove at his shoulders. "Or were you hoping he'd catch wind of what a filthy, depraved whore you're turning out to be?"

"Fuck you!" You gasped the retort, nails digging furrows into the meat of his shoulders. Narumi chuckled darkly, grinding the outline of his stiffening cock even harder against the damp warmth radiating from the apex of your thighs.

"Oh, I intend to," he growled, the words vibrating straight into your core as he sucked a fresh, vivid mark along the side of your neck. "I'll make sure every fucking soul in this place knows what a cock-hungry slut you are for your Commander."

Your spine bowed against his chest, thighs trembling as you struggled to regain any semblance of control. Narumi grinned, releasing his bruising grip in your hair to trail both hands down to the curve of your ass. He squeezed the soft mounds harshly, reveling in the way you squirmed in his hold - your breath hitching as he rocked you forward into the hard, unforgiving line of his erection.

"Look how wet you are," Narumi rasped, dragging his fingers along the inner seam of your uniform pants. He felt the fabric growing damper by the second as you rolled your hips in desperate circles - chasing any friction possible.

Narumi yanked the zipper by your cleavage down, tugging the garment loose. Then, with a savage jerk, he wrenched the material free, leaving you bare from the waist up. Narumi's mouth went dry as the sight of your breasts bounced free, pert and full and so utterly perfect.

Without another word, he surged up, latching onto the nearest hardened peak and suckling it deep into his greedy mouth. You keened at the abrupt stimulation, spine arching further as your fingers tangled painfully into the unruly tufts of his salt-and-pepper hair.

Narumi's tongue flicked and laved across the straining tip, groaning low in his chest as the heady scent of your arousal thickened and perfumed the air. His cock twitched with every needful noise you whimpered into the stifling silence, precum leaking freely and slicking the fabric stretched taut across his pelvis.

Just the idea of you dripping all over his uniform was nearly enough to send him spiraling into oblivion then and there. Narumi released your nipple with a wet pop, glancing down to where the slick outline of his arousal was clearly visible straining through his sweatpants.

"Go on," Narumi rasped, gripping you by the hair again and forcing you to stare at the obscene bulge. "Take it out."

You froze at the command, and for a moment Narumi wondered if he'd finally pushed his luck too far. Perhaps it had been too soon, too rough to demand this much from you. Maybe his own desires were too steeped in perverse fantasy, too depraved to satisfy your own budding urges.

But then your gaze flicked back up, and Narumi nearly choked on the sheer, unbridled lust he found smoldering in those lovely irises. Your tongue darted out again, sweeping a tantalizing line across those plump, swollen lips. Then, without breaking his stare, you lowered a hand towards the front of his sweatpants.

Narumi exhaled a ragged groan as your palm pressed flat against the damp material, rubbing along his aching cock in slow, languid sweeps. Then, with deliberate intent, your finger hooked the elastic band, drawing it slowly downward and releasing the engorged, pulsing head.

His erection sprung free with a wet slap against his belly, and Narumi hissed at the sensation. His shaft was a furious shade of red, throbbing with each erratic beat of his heart. Narumi watched you drink in the sight of him with rapt, unabashed interest - taking in every inch of his swollen, twitching length with a hunger that bordered on delirium.

You licked your lips again, and this time Narumi couldn't hold back his needy growl. You met his wild-eyed stare with a wicked grin, then reached out and wrapped a fist around his cock.

"Fuck!" Narumi groaned, thrusting up into your grip. His shaft twitched and wept, dribbling clear fluid all over the inside of his sweatpants. The slick noises of your hand sliding along his rigid length seemed to echo through the room, punctuated only by the labored huffs of both of your panting breaths.

Narumi couldn't look away from where your hand was stroking his cock. Watching the swollen crown appear and disappear through the tight tunnel of your fist was almost enough to send him careening over the edge. He hadn’t been touched like this in so long, and never before by anyone who stirred the raw, ravenous depths of his lust as you did.

"Stop."

Your hand slowed, though didn't fully release his twitching shaft. Narumi swallowed down the desperate urge to cum with a pained grunt, then fixed you with a hooded, burning stare.

"Take off the rest," he rasped, and was rewarded with the first genuine shiver of anticipation rippling through your frame.You didn't hesitate this time, and Narumi couldn't stop the dark, possessive thrill that surged through his gut as he watched you strip the remaining clothes from your body.

As soon as you were bare, Narumi leaned forward and grasped you by the hip, dragging you across the desk and settling you directly atop the polished surface. You let out a strangled noise of shock, which quickly turned into a low groan as he spread your legs wide, baring the glistening, swollen folds of your sex to his feasting gaze.

Narumi couldn't tear his attention away, the first inklings of primal instinct roaring to life as he watched the fresh wave of arousal spill forth, trickling down the crease of your ass. You were utterly soaked, and the sight of your flushed, glistening folds begging for his touch was nearly enough to send him spiraling.

He reached out, tracing a single digit through the silky heat of your slit, gathering the evidence of your need on his skin. He glanced up, meeting your dazed, lust-glazed stare, and smirked. "What would your precious Daddy say if he could see you now?"

He brought the finger to his mouth, sucking the glistening juices from the pad of his digit. Your eyes flared wider at the act, pupils dilating as a fresh gush of arousal drenched the desk beneath your spread thighs. Narumi felt his balls tighten in warning, a surge of white-hot lust barreling down his spine.

Without further preamble, he shoved his sweatpants the rest of the way down, kicking them off and onto the floor. Then, gripping your ankle, he pulled you further to the edge of the desk. You fell backwards with a muffled squeak, bracing your palms on the surface as he gripped his swollen shaft and rubbed the head through the sopping mess of your slit.

The first press of his cockhead against your swollen folds was the single most blissful sensation he'd ever felt. Narumi has had his share of lovers throughout his years, but none could compare to the overwhelming perfection of sinking into the molten heat of your cunt for the very first time.

The tip slipped through with a squelch, and the both of you released a simultaneous, punched-out groan. You were so tight and impossibly wet that Narumi almost blacked out at the first inch or so of penetration. His balls tightened with every pulse of his cock, and he knew if he didn't find a modicum of restraint soon, this would all be over before it even truly began.

Narumi gripped the base of his shaft, breathing deeply as he fought for any measure of control. Then, after a long moment, he slid his hands up to grip the swell of your hips. With a single, vicious thrust, he slammed his pelvis forward, burying the entire length of his cock into the clenching, molten vice of your sex.

Your back arched clear off the desk as your spine bowed in a rigid line. Narumi couldn't resist the temptation to lean down and latch his mouth onto one of your bouncing, swaying breasts. He suckled the hardened tip between his teeth, rolling the pebbled flesh against his tongue as he began to rock his pelvis.

He fucked into you with deep, languid thrusts - each roll of his hips sending his engorged shaft bottoming out and dragging along your pulsing, spasming walls. Narumi groaned around the nipple trapped between his teeth, the taste of your skin and the feel of your cunt squeezing him so tight making his vision spark white.

He released your breast with a wet pop, licking the tip and relishing the breathy whine he wrung from your lips. Then, with a smirk, he reached out and grasped your wrist, pinning it above your head.

"You're going to learn exactly who's in charge here, little girl," Narumi growled, increasing the pace of his thrusts. He ground his pelvis into yours, relishing the breathy sob of bliss he wrung from your throat. "And when I'm through, I‘m going to be the only one you call 'Daddy'."

With that, he reared back, then plunged into your sopping channel once more. You arched up against his chest, breasts bouncing and head lolling as you cried out. Narumi grinned down at your debauched, disheveled form, loving every bit of the wanton picture you painted spread out across his desk.

He kept up the pace, reveling in the way you quivered and writhed with each drag of his cock against your pulsing walls. Every inch of your skin was flushed and gleaming, a fine sheen of perspiration coating the swell of your breasts. You were utterly stunning, a living portrait of debauched perfection that he wanted to commit to memory.

Narumi's breath caught, and his grip tightened on your wrists. "Go on. What’s my name, babygirl?"

You moaned, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you clenched and fluttered around his aching length. "C-Captain— ah!"

"Wrong," he growled, punctuating the reprimand with a sharp slap across the swell of your ass. You gasped, arching off the desk, and Narumi had to bite back a groan as the movement shifted the angle of his cock just right.

"Try again," he ground out, fighting to maintain some semblance of composure as he drove into your tight, molten cunt. You whimpered, squirming beneath him. "Who’s fucking you right now, little girl? Who does this sweet, needy cunt belong to?"

"Fuck— Captain, I can't—" you stammered, breath hitching and spine bowing as his pace increased. Narumi was unrelenting, hips snapping in a punishing rhythm that left you gasping and writhing, pinned and utterly helpless to do anything other than take every inch of his thick, swollen shaft.

"Wrong. Fucking. Answer," Narumi punctuated the words with three sharp, resounding slaps across the curve of your ass. "I told you what I want to hear, little girl. So say it, and I'll give you exactly what you need."

You were so close, trembling on the precipice. Narumi could tell by the way you quivered around his pistoning shaft, the way you arched and whimpered, trying desperately to find any sort of friction against your throbbing clit. But Narumi wasn't going to let you off that easy, not yet. He was too close, and the idea of cumming inside your tight, grasping cunt, of marking you as his and his alone, was a thought far too intoxicating to ignore.

"Come on," he growled, increasing his pace even further. The sound of his pelvis colliding with the swell of your ass echoed through the office, loud and lewd and so utterly obscene. "You know what to say. Be a good girl and do it for me."

The words sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your body, and Narumi felt your pussy clamp down, spasming and rippling as you teetered right on the edge. Your eyes were glazed and hazy, jaw slack and tongue darting out to wet your parted lips.

"D-daddy," you whimpered, and the word was so small, so broken and hesitant that for a moment Narumi wasn't sure he'd actually heard it. But then it was there again, a bit louder and far more certain. "Oh fuck, Daddy! Please!"

Narumi's restraint finally broke, and he reared back with a triumphant roar. His thrusts increased in intensity, becoming frantic and brutal. You sobbed and shuddered beneath him, eyes rolling back and breasts bouncing with every snap of his pelvis.

"Say it again," he ground out, the sound coming out more like a feral snarl than actual words. "Fuck, say it again. Scream it."

"Daddy! Oh God, Daddy, please!" You wailed, fingers scrambling to grab at any purchase you could find. "Please don't stop! Don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum! Ah! D-daddy, please, please—"

You threw your head back, spine arching off the desk as a strangled, broken cry spilled free. Your inner walls clamped down around his throbbing shaft, milking him and fluttering as gush after gush of liquid sprayed across the desk and dripped down his pelvis.

Narumi's vision went black as his balls drew up, a torrent of molten cum surging up his length. He roared as the orgasm crashed over him, pulling out just in time to shoot ropes of white across your quivering, shaking body.

"Don’t fucking move." Narumi snarled the words, fisting his twitching, leaking cock and stroking the length in rough, desperate tugs. His gaze raked over your naked, debauched form, committing every detail to memory before he reached over to grab his phone.

His hand was a blur, and within seconds he had the device positioned directly above your cum-splattered torso. You looked up, bleary and confused, blinking those pretty, dazed eyes at the flash of his camera. His cock rested against the swell of your abdomen, still thick and heavy and half-hard. He snapped another shot, relishing the way his seed pooled against the smooth expanse of your belly, dribbling down your side and dripping onto the desk beneath you.

"What— what are you doing?" You asked, voice hoarse and rasping.

"Don’t worry your pretty little head about it," Narumi replied, grinning as he saw what appeared beneath the pictures as soon as he sent them.

'Read'.

There was about to be mayhem in the Defense Force.

#kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu no. 8 x reader #kaiju 8 x reader smut #kaiju 8 smut #kaiju 8 x reader #narumi x reader smut #narumi gen smut #gen narumi smut #narumi gen x reader #narumi gen #gen narumi #narumi smut #narumi x reader #gen x reader smut #gen smut #gen x reader

298 notes · View notes

santanasaintmendes · 3 months ago

Text

make tacos, not war

part4! to the cosmic girl records

¡cosmic girl records!

summary: tacos, tequila, beaches, the mexican grand prix, beefing with charles and getting roasted by the grid, anything else?

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: gorgeous girls on pinterest all credits go to their rightful owners!

disclaimer!: there are sensitive and offensive jokes used below so do not interact if you are not ok with those things! If there is anything that i have included that is seriously inappropriate and harmful to people contact me and let me know so i can do my best to make sure everyone is happy!

a/n: AHHHHHHH! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported the ¡cosmic girl records! so far it seriously makes my day to see all the likes and reblogs.

warnings!: talking about addiction to alcohol (the 2019 rookies call y/n an alcoholic), joking about death, y/n calls checo mr taco man, swearing, offensive jokes, british slander i’m sorry 😞, stealing of best friends, the knife emoji?

word count!: 1.6k

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, georgerussell64 and 4,472,382 others

unfortunatelyy/n: siesta, fiesta, tequila and repeat!

tagged olliebearman

view 23,392 comments

bestie1: while i rot away in my pj’s watching friends smh 😔

unfortunatelyy/n: I LITERALLY ASKED IF U WANTED TO COME TOO????

bestie1: oh yeah

user1: SHE’S SO PRETTY TF??

user2: the third pic 😍

user3: the first pic 😍

user4: the second pic 😍

olliebearman: the first pic: moments before disaster

unfortunatelyy/n: don’t expose me like that???

user9: hittin’ the man with the triple question mark, shit’s about to get real

olliebearman: she fell into the water.

unfortunatelyy/n: OPEN THE DOOR

user12: GIRL WHAT

olliebearman: NO STOP TRYING TO BREAK DOWN THE FRONT DOOR YOU PSYCHO

unfortunatelyy/n: that’s fine. your windows open

olliebearman: WHAT

user5: is he still alive

user6: he may be dead i fear

unfortunatelyy/n: update: oliver james bearman is no longer a problem in today’s society 😄

landonorris: damn hittin him with the full government name is cold

unfortunatelyy/n: shut up what do you know

landonorris: more than you that’s for sure

unfortunatelyy/n: WHY CAN’T U JUST LEAVE ME IN PEACE

landonorris: if i remember correctly, YOU were the one who wanted to be friends

unfortunatelyy/n: I WAS 5. i was young, dumb and foolish, i didn’t know what i wanted 😔

landonorris: @georgerussell64 @alex_albon

georgerussell64: hmm, i smell a liar

unfortunatelyy/n: tf u sniffing around for mf

alex_albon: damn so aggressive

unfortunatelyy/n: shut up your girlfriend’s cheating on you with me

| alex_albon: 🥲

user7: alex’s smiling through the pain fr

user8: the 2019 rookie’s goal this year: make y/n suffer

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

schecoperez: i approve, nice photos

unfortunatelyy/n: thank you mr taco man

user9: MR TACO MAN HELP

user10: okay now i’m convinced they’re besties

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user11: I could use a glass of tequila right about now

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, georgerussell64, alexandrasaintmleux and 6,382,493 others

unfortunatelyy/n: tequila, tamales, a boy, what more could a girl want?

tagged olliebearman

view 93,392 comments

user1: did ollie so dirty in the third pic 😭

user2: that’s what happens when u cross y/n 😭

olliebearman: i take it you’re still mad at me?

unfortunatelyy/n: yes ❤️🔪

user7: NOT THE KNIFE EMOJI

carlossainz55: remind me again to never offend you in any way

unfortunatelyy/n: @olliebearman watch and learn

olliebearman: ok 😔

landonorris: yeah ollie 😒

olliebearman: why are you attacking me too 😭

landonorris: idk it’s fun

olliebearman: wow.

user3: we love savage y/n, may she reign forever

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

landonorris: y/n confirmed alcoholic

georgerussell64: y/n confirmed clown

alex_albon: y/n confirmed delusional girl

charles_leclerc: y/n confirmed idiot

user8: damn 😭

unfortunatelyy/n: DAMN WHAT DID I DO TO YA’LL

charles_leclerc: live.

alex_albon: steal my girlfriend.

georgerussell64: take my phone charger WITHOUT my permission

landonorris: @charles_leclerc what he said

unfortunatelyy/n: . . . I-

landonorris: absolutely speechless, completely baffled, rendered loquacious

user5: i didn’t realise lando had that many words in his vocabulary

georgerussell64: okay pop off shakespeare i see u 👀

unfortunatelyy/n: I HATE YOU ALL ESPECIALLY YOU @charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: it’s okay we all hate you too!

| unfortunatelyy/n: i don’t usually swear but you charles marc herve percival leclerc are one little shit

charles_leclerc: DIE.

user6: oof his ego took a hit with the full name

unfortunatelyy/n: after you, ladies first 😌

charles_leclerc: @olliebearman come and get your girlfriend she’s escaped her cage

unfortunatelyy/n: HEY THAT’S NOT FAIR @alexandrasaintmleux I’M ABOUT TO MURDER YOUR BOYFRIEND COME AND GET HIM BEFORE I DO

user4: HELP GUYS THE KIDS ARE FIGHTING

olliebearman: @alexandrasaintmleux gf/bf duty calls 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: 😔

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, lewishamilton, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt and 3,382,382 others

unfortunatelyy/n: ready for this weekend!

tagged olliebearman

view 18,372 comments

olliebearman: thank you for the nice photos this time 🥰

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

unfortunatelyy/n: you’re welcome peasant

olliebearman: i can never win around here

user3: poor ollie 😔

user4: THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE IS KILLING ME

user1: guys we’ve officially lost her to ferrari 😔

landonorris: traitor.

unfortunatelyy/n: excuse me child

landonorris: don’t play dumb, you abandoned mclaren and here i was thinking we were best friends

unfortunatelyy/n: WHY DO YOU KEEP ATTACKING ME IN MY OWN INSTA COMMENTS FACE ME LIKE A MAN

landonorris: don’t change the subject

user2: bro took a hit on his ego with that one

landonorris: i’m calling in the reinforcements @charles_leclerc @georgerussell64 @alex_albon

unfortunatelyy/n: STOP 🛑✋

georgerussell64: she can’t even admit it

alex_albon: shame on you

charles_leclerc: why’d u call me i literally drive for ferrari

landonorris: cuz u roast her the best

unfortunatelyy/n: u guys suck

charles_leclerc: he’s not wrong

unfortunatelyy/n: I HATE YOU

charles_leclerc: the feeling is mutual

landonorris: you not only betrayed me but the other idiots too

alex_albon: i speak for all williams fans when i say FOR SHAME

georgerussell64: FOR SHAMEEEEEE

lilymhe: 🤨 whatchu hatin on my wifey for @alex_albon @georgerussell64

carmenmmundt: yeah? 🤨

alex_albon: @georgerussell64 help what do we do

georgerussell64: if anyone asks, i’ve left the country.

user5: GEORGE HELP

alex_albon: how could you abandon me like that

user6: such a fake friend fr

liked by landonorris, olliebearman, oscarpiastri, georgerussell64, alex_albon, lilymhe and 6,829,200 others

unfortunatelyy/n: cheat meal!

tagged olliebearman

view 38,292 comments

user1: she’s never beating the alcoholic allegations im afraid 😔

user2: WHY DOES THE FOOD LOOK SO GOOD, I’M BOOKING A FLIGHT TO MEXICO RN

user3: get zambrero?

user2: STFU IT’S NOT THE SAME

landonorris: caught in 4k 📸

olliebearman: @unfortunatelyy/n YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO POST IT ON YOUR INSTA

unfortunatelyy/n: darling, every photo i take is for my insta

user4: oo that gave me the chills “darling”

user5: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER OLLIE SHE’S BRITISH NOW

user6: y/n now: 🤓🇬🇧

ferrari: @olliebearman pick up the phone

olliebearman: NO.

user7: RUN OLLIE RUNNNN

user8: god bless y/n for these photos may she reign forever 🙏

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user9: smh, guys we’ve lost y/n to the tequila, only god can help her now

user10: get yourself someone who looks at you the way ollie looks at that bowl of food

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

georgerussell64: why would you expose ollie like that, let my guy have his cheat meal without the entire internet coming after him

unfortunatelyy/n: woah what happened to you

georgerussell64: im afraid to ask what you mean

unfortunatelyy/n: who knew george russell would vouch for MY BOYFRIEND

georgerussell64: well it’s better than pushing him into the barriers every weekend

olliebearman 😰

user11: i have an odd itching feeling that the 2019 rookies still hate ollie for dating their younger sister

user12: ya think

liked by olliebearman, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes and 5,382,493 others

unfortunatelyy/n: i cant. it’s race day.

view 38,492 comments

landonorris: wow. exposing me like that. i hope u die alone

unfortunatelyy/n: doing it for the plot 🤷‍♀️

user7: AMEN SISTER 🙏🗣️

user1: poor lando, what was the tea tho 👀

user7: y/n’s got her priorities set straight

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user2: SPILL THE TEA LANDOOOOOOO

carlossainz55: what is tea

olliebearman: it’s a drink??

olliebearman: oh.

unfortunatelyy/n: it’s okay i still love you

olliebearman: ok 😔

charles_leclerc: SPILL THE TEA Y/N 🗣️

carlossainz55: 🗣️🗣️

maxvertappen1: 🗣️🗣️🗣️

georgerussell64: 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

schecoperez: 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

landonorris: IF YOU TELL THEM YOU DIE

unfortunatelyy/n: threatening me in my own comments, who do u think you are? |

landonorris: . . . your best friend . . . ?

unfortunatelyy/n: nah, oscar’s my best friend now

landonorris: @oscarpiastri ?

| oscarpiastri: @unfortunatelyy/n: YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO TELL HIM

unfortunatelyy/n: whoops 🫢

| landonorris: i see how it is 😔

user4: still waiting to know what the tea is

landonorris: YOU’LL NEVER KNOW

| unfortunatelyy/n: hm, we’ll see 👀

landonorris:😰

user5: oscar and y/n best friends confirmed 👍

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user6: the y/n i know would spill the tea 👀

unfortunatelyy/n: 👀

user6: HELP Y/N

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 8,382,859 others

unfortunatelyy/n: love you to the moon and back a million times, always and forever, congratulations my love 🐻❤️

olliebearman: love you to the moon and back 🌙💞

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user1: LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK? MY LOVE??? ARE U KIDDING ME 😭😭

user2: it’s the onions. it’s the onions. it’s the onions

user3: im not crying you are

user4: homeboy’s turning 1

user5: i can’t wait for lando to pop up in the comments it’s like whenever y/n posts he’s summoned or sum shit like that

user6: ah yes, young love

user8: OMG I’M CRYINGGGG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

landonorris: @olliebearman u know, orange would look better on you, there’s a free seat available here at mclaren 👀

oscarpiastri: i thought you said we were okay

user9: why do they sound like an old couple tf 😭😭

landonorris: i say a lot of things i don’t mean, traitor 😤

oscarpiastri: you’re acting like a child

landonorris: no you are!

oscarpiastri: says the guy who just used an exclamation mark in an insta comment

landonorris: its official. i’m going to dive bomb you off the track next week

oscarpiastri: what? after your DNF? cuz i don’t think that’s possible

user8: DAYUM

| unfortunatelyy/n: ooooooh he got u there @landonorris

landonorris: I HATE YOU, YOU STOLE MY BEST FRIEND

unfortunatelyy/n: i can’t have stolen him if he was my friend first

landonorris: wHaT.

oscarpiastri: ah yes, the magic of childhood friends

user7: HELP WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT

landonorris: but she’s american and you’re australian. . . right?

unfortunatelyy/n: mhm sure

olliebearman: 😦

landonorris: 😦

taglist time!: @ilivbullyingjeongin

a/n: thank you for reading if you got to the end! I hope it made you laugh, have a great day xx

235 notes · View notes

fallingskiesandrisingseas · 2 years ago

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Susan Pevensie comes back from Narnia and tries to forget, not because she doesn't believe in Narnia anymore, but because it hurts too much thinking about what she lost.

In Narnia, she was revered, respected. People wrote songs about her, asked for her hand in marriage. She was with her siblings, and she was free, and she could finally stop worrying about her brothers dying in an air raid. She had a people she protected, a land she ruled, and family to look after. She was respected in courts and battefields alike.

Narnia brought other problems, of course. Not all her suitors were kind about her rejection, and Peter and Edmund were expected to lead armies, which meant they were always in the line of fire. More than once had they come home with grave injuries that took months to recover from, even with Lucy's secret potion.

It is this Narnia Susan vividly remembers just aftee she comes back, a wild and savage land where magic roams free, but evil roams free too. It is the Narnia of eternal winter, of giants and ogres, of Aslan dying on the Stone Table. The Narnia of Telmarines, of dead friends, of failed sieges.

England forces her back into obedience, into a mold. Tells her to behave in a way expected of a young lady. Lucy can stay wild a little longer, but Susan has an education to focus on, men to impress. England tells her she is below her brothers again, should get married and have kids.

So Susan tries to forget, convincing herself that the stiff upper lip, tight collars, kneelong skirts, ridicule from adults when she speaks her mind and forced silence is better than the freedom she had in Narnia.

For that freedom had to be paid for in blood. At least in England her family and friends don't risk dying, not after the war.

She alienates from her brothers and sister further. She tells them Narnia was a game, a fantasy. But the difference in faith is also due tk the way she has to hide how it changed her. Peter, Lucy and Edmund do not have to. The boys write long essays about justice and religion, join the fencing team. Lucy dances everywhere she goes and is known to never wear shoes if she can help it.

But the archery club at school will not accept Susan. Neither will the debate team. Her teachers are annoyed with the fact she never slips up, disgruntled at the fact a woman runs rings around them intelectually. Susan is a young woman after a time of war, and all of society would rather she shut up and do what she is told.

Soon, Susan has new friends, new things that matter. All these adult thoughts she can only discuss with her brothers and sister drive her crazy, and there is no one around that takes them seriously. And so she tries to grow up as fast as possible, get to an age where people listen to her again. She forgets so that she doesn't have to deal with the feeling she was meant for much more, to ease the mourning of all that she lost when she kissed Caspian goodbye.

All the Pevensies start forgetting Narnia slowly, the memories fading. Soon none of them remember the names of their generals at Beruna. They forget the smell of battle, the weight of an iron sword in their hands. But they all still walk as if their crowns are on their heads, and ride horses in a way none of their instructors understand. It takes a while before they are back to their Narnian levels, but it is clear to them someone has instructed them before. None of them can figure out what commands they use, however. Is it western style, perhaps? Or maybe rodeo? They cannot have been taught in England, not with the amount of control they can exert with and without saddles, the sense of balance. Some of their teachers are astonished by their academic growth, but others attribute it to the lax education standards after the war. Susan is sold short most often, but all the Pevensie children suffer from arguments with teachers and attitude problems. Teachers generally don't like it if you behave like you are older or more important than them. It's worse because they are almost never wrong, even though all of them feel the effects that having a teenage brain has on their speed of thought and the coherence of their arguments.

The Pevensies deal with these remnants of Narnia in different ways. Susan becomes an actress. She picks West End over Oxford because the stage is a place she is allowed to be free. And since Narnia, dry textbooks don't thrill her like they used to, while the fantasy concepts of spirits and courts and magic and other things thespians work with entince her all the more. Inside her is a longing to become someone else. She knows where it comes from, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Susan plays a queen often, or a diplomat, or a model. Something about her performances have audiences hooked, convinced she was royalty in a different life.

Remembering Narnia hurts. She scolds someone for being reckless with the stage props while teaching them the correct way for a full minute before realizing the person in question is older than her, and doesn't listen to a young woman. He has the same name as her younger brother.

So Susan forgets. But as she carves her way into the elite of old Hollywood, years later, she begins to remember as well. What it's like to have a voice. How it feels like to have people listen.

When Lucy, Edmund and Peter die in the train accident, Susan weeps for days. She knows what she has lost in them. She is now the only person fluent in their interpersonal language, the only one that still remembers the mating call of the centaurs, what jokes a forest spirit makes. She is now truly alone in the world.

Narnia comes rushing back to her during this grieving period. Eventually, she remembers that she used to have a voice, a crown, lovers of whatever gender she wanted. And also how Narnia would have you pay for freedom in blood. They gave up on that freedom to protect her siblings. only to lose them anyways. Suddenly, Susan remembers how Narnia was fair, how a bargain struck was a bargain kept. She remembers the nymphs, the trees in spring. She remembers the beauty of it all.

Later, when Susan is a grown woman and an arrived actor in Hollywood, Aslan begins returning to her dreams. He never speaks to her, but the sight of him gives her strenght. She was once Susan the Gentle, who accompanied Aslan to his death. It is time she returns to being that person.

After the Stonewall riots and during the AIDS epidemic, Susan is the only actress willing to make a public stand. It costs her 2 box office hits and a 3 month ban from the tabloids. But she remembers justice, and the price of freedom. Others start looking to her for wisdom, just like they did all those years ago. Susan feels her quiet strenght returning, her faith slowly coming back.

She stops wishing she could forget Narnia. The magic that was responsible for the memory faded with time. Maybe it was just to protect her from mourning a world where she was so much more.

When Susan looks at the boys coming back from wars in Korea and Vietnam, she recognizes the look in their eyes. Reflected in their behaviour is a maturity that shouldn't be present in teenagers. The loss of innocence, the unrepairable damage to their childhood illusions. It is a look she spent her twenties avoiding mirrors for, because she knew what it meant. No matter what she told herself then, she believed in Narnia. She still does now.

She knows her siblings are in a different place now, and that she revoked her faith in that place, but slowly, as the years grey her hair and wrinkle her face, she begins to believe she may one day join them there. She remembers Aslan as a kind lion, even if he wasn't a tame one.

She grew old in Narnia once, after all. She hopes to die there.

Once a queen of Narnia, always a queen of Narnia

#my most famous post on here is about the Pevensies coming back to England #here are some more thoughts about it.#narnia meta #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #narnia #peter pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #susan pevensie meta #idk this concept of forgetting the other world seems fucked up #prince caspian #character analysis #fanfic #edmund pevensie #susan pevensie fanfic #the problem of susan

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justagalwhowrites · 1 month ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 3: Parents

You and Joel try to figure each other out and you and Ellie navigate your new relationship while you get ready to go to LA. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Remembered negligence by a parent. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 7.5k

“Again.”

You threw a punch at the sparring mitt on Joel’s hand.

He shook his head once, tightening his jaw. You weren’t landing the blows well, something was holding you back.

“C’mon, you got more in you than that,” he said, almost taunting you. “Again.”

You yelled then and really pulled your fist back before swinging forward yet again. This time, though, it actually forced his arm to move some, making him recenter his weight as he tried to keep position.

“There you go,” he said. “Keep doin’ that, let’s go.”

“Seriously?” You panted, dripping sweat, your sports bra clinging somehow even tighter to your skin than it was before the workout started, something Joel was desperate to not pay attention to. “I feel like I’m about to die.”

“Gotta build up that muscle,” he said. “Come on, Siren -” he said your code name like the taunt it was. “Hit me.”

You really went after him then, wailing on the sparring mitts and coming for him hard and fast enough that it forced him to step back.

“Better,” he said eventually and you lowered your hands, your chest heaving. “See? Knew you could do it.”

“Yeah, turns out all it took was remembering what a dick you are,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice. “Way easier to want to punch you then.”

“Ma’am?” Esmo’s voice appeared at the door to the pool house. “The car will be here in an hour.”

“Thanks,” you panted, shucking your gloves and looking to Joel. “You all packed and ready?”

“I’m ready,” he said. “Won’t have to worry about me.”

“You say that,” you said, putting the gloves away and grabbing your water bottle, chugging from it as you caught your breath. “But we’ll see how you do once we actually get to L.A.”

“Don’t think it’s gonna be much of a challenge,” he said, even though he knew you were right. He just wasn’t about to say it. “Just don’t do anything stupid, we’ll be fine.”

“Aw, now where’s the fun in that?” You asked, starting back toward the house. “You OK to get the kid?”

“What if I said no?” He asked. “I’m not a damn chauffeur, you know.”

“Sure about that?” You asked. “Because you beg to drive often enough…”

“I got the kid,” he said. “Go do whatever air-headed shit you gotta do before you get on a plane.”

You mouthed his words mockingly back at him as you made your way to your room and Joel made his way to the kitchen to get water for himself.

Things with you had fallen into an almost surprising cadence in the week since his birthday and the conversation in your kitchen.

It wasn’t that he liked you or anything as extreme as that. He’d just learned how to see you more as a person and less as the specter who haunted the wall of his daughter’s bedroom. You were still spoiled and overly opinionated and frustrating to no end but you were also oddly kind, sharply observant and a dedicated parent to a child who wasn’t yours to begin with.

Even though your love and care for her was obvious, Ellie seemed to want to tiptoe around you for a few days after she got suspended. She avoided staying anywhere you were for too long, but Joel saw how you’d perk up when she came in and then visibly deflate when she left without saying much of anything at all to you. You tried to pretend like it didn’t bother you, even as you spent hours on the phone with the school trying to convince them to let Ellie come back early without saying why she’d picked a fight with that asshole boy to begin with. He didn’t buy it.

Eventually, you wore the school down, and Ellie only missed two full days of classes. She just didn’t seem all that eager to return when she climbed in the car for Joel to drop her off the morning she went back.

“You ready for school?” He asked eventually, glancing her way, trying not to think of navigating conversations like this with Sarah. There were points in time where he could tell something was bothering her but prying would just make it worse so he asked the innocuous questions in hopes she’d give him something - anything - to work with.

“I guess,” she shrugged, staring determinedly out the window.

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” He asked eventually when she didn’t give him anything else to work with.

She sighed heavily.

“I just…” she looked at Joel, her small hands twisting around themselves on her lap. “I know that stupid fucking boy is going to keep saying that shit. What do I do? I know, I know, I can’t hit him. Even though I should be able to fucking hit him.”

Joel tried not to laugh at that. He didn’t entirely disagree.

“He scare easy, you think?” He asked, glancing over to Ellie.

“He seems like a little bitch,” she replied. “So yeah, probably. Why?”

He shrugged, coming up with a plan. Or a semblance of one, anyway.

When he got to the school, he didn’t go to the drop off line. Instead, he parked and got out, Ellie frowning as he did.

“Show me this kid,” he said, nodding for her to lead the way.

She scanned the crowed for a second before she found him, leaning against the side of the building, looking like he was vaping before the day started.

“There he is,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “Fucking asshole.”

“C’mon,” he said, walking up the hill toward the school, keeping an eye out for any teachers or parents who might cause any trouble. “We’ll handle it.”

Ellie kept up, her much smaller legs needing to almost jog to keep pace with his longer, purposeful stride. Thankfully, the kid was trying to stay out of sight, making Joel’s plan a lot easier.

The kid was, as it happened, also cocky as hell.

“Well look who’s back,” he said, shoving back off the wall and not seeming to care that Joel was there. The fog from the vape reeked of pot. “What, your whore mom get them to let you out of your cage early?”

“You motherfucker!” Ellie lunged for him but Joel held her back. She looked up at him, indignant, but he focused on the kid in front of him. He barely came up to Joel’s chin, maybe 16 years old and suddenly seemingly aware that he’d picked a fight with someone who wasn’t smaller than him. Joel stepped closer, squaring his shoulders, letting himself tower over the kid. He gulped, almost comically so, and stepped back until he was against the wall again.

“We got a problem here,” Joel said.

“I.. I don’t…” the kid stammered, but Joel cut him off.

“Don’t remember askin’ you a damn thing, you little shit,” he said. “I said, we got a problem here. And that problem is you. Now, see, I don’t take too kindly for assholes like you causin’ problems for my people and Ellie here is one of my people. You may not know it but it’s my job to make sure she don’t have problems so you being one… well, that’s an issue, ain’t it?”

The kid was silent.

“That was a question,” Joel said, staring him down. “Answer it.”

“Yes sir,” he said quickly.

“Good boy,” Joel said using the same tone he would a dog who’d misbehaved. “The way I look at it, we got two ways to handle a problem. We can remove it or we can resolve it. I got all kinds of ways I can remove a problem but resolving it is easier. I like easier. Which would you rather I do?”

The kid was silent, his eyes darting.

“Answer. The. Question.”

“Re…resolve it,” he said, shrinking lower on the wall.

“Good,” Joel said. “That means, you stop talking shit. You don’t look at her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t talk to anyone else about her, you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re gonna treat her and her family with respect,” Joel considered. “And you’re gonna keep your thoughts - and hands - to yourself. I hear about any other shit like that comin’ out of this school? I’m going to assume it’s coming from you and I’m going to assume you’re a problem that can’t be resolved. That means you’re one that needs to be removed. Do you want me to remove you?”

“No sir.”

“What was that?” Joel asked, even though he’d heard him perfectly fine.

“No sir,” he said, a little louder that time.

“Good,” he said again. “Now apologize to Ellie.”

His eyes darted to Ellie and back to Joel.

“But…”

“This ain’t a debate,” Joel growled. “Apologize. Now.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly to Ellie. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of it, I’m really sorry, I won’t say any of that shit again, I promise!”

“Good,” Joel said. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll make sure they know about this little vaping habit of yours. Don’t think Texas takes too kindly to drug use, regardless of who your damn daddy is. Remember what I said about problems. Don’t become one and I won’t need to treat you like one. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

Joel gave him one final up and down, almost surprised to not find piss staining the front of his pants when he did. He looked back at Ellie.

“Should get you to class,” he said. “C’mon.”

He guided Ellie away from the kid and toward the sidewalk and she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut until they were out of earshot.

“That was so fucking cool,” she was damn near beaming up at Joel.

“He bothers you again, tell me,” he said, stopping to face her before she made her way to the front door of the school. “I’ll handle it.”

“Would you beat him up?” She asked, her eyes lighting up.

He made a face.

“He’s a fuckin’ kid,” he said. “I don’t hurt kids. But he don’t need to know that. So let me know and don’t go trying to handle shit yourself again, OK kid?”

“OK,” she said, giving him a firm nod. “Thanks, Joel.”

He just gave her a nod back and watched her go into the school, staring down the kid still cowering against the wall as he made his way back to the car.

Ellie started spending more and more time with Joel after that. He took her to and from school almost every day and it only took a few days for her to start talking to him.

He didn’t invite it, not really, it just kind of happened. It started with her throwing her book bag in the back seat with a little too much force and sighing heavily and Joel’s latent fatherly instinct kicked in before he realized what he was doing.

“Everything OK?” He asked, raising her brows and glancing toward her as he made his way around other cars picking up kids as the school day ended. She just looked at him, incredulous, until he shrugged. “Don’t take a genius to see something’s goin’ on. That kid give you more trouble?”

“No,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. He was quiet, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, giving her room to sit in the silence. And then she sighed. “It was another kid. Said some shitty stuff.”

“Shitty stuff like what.”

“Just stuff,” she said, clenching her jaw before deflating. “I just… I don’t think I want to talk about it yet.”

“Well,” Joel said. “Here when you do. Know your aunt is, too.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, watching Joel for a moment. “Want to kill some shit when we get home?”

“Assuming you’re talkin’ about in one of those damn games…”

“Duh,” she said. “Don’t think I’m allowed to do it in real life even though some people fucking deserve it.”

Joel tried to keep from smiling at that. The kid had a mouth on her. He shouldn’t encourage it, he knew that. He shouldn’t encourage her spending time with him, either. But something in him liked that she sought him out, that she felt like he was someone who was safe, someone she could confide in.

“Sure,” he said. “We can kill some shit.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Hey,” he said. “Language.”

And he watched as she rolled her eyes good naturedly, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Knowing he made her feel a little better tugged at him, too. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to care. You and her were a job, nothing more. Caring about either of you was stupid at best, a liability at worst. It was best to keep his distance.

He played the video games, anyway.

Joel watched as things softened with you and Ellie in the week that followed and then, eventually, as he was having coffee before taking Ellie to school and you were sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, reading something on your iPad while eating avocado toast with a cup of coffee - because of course you ate fucking avocado toast - she sat next to you, plopping her backpack down on the open chair on the other side of her.

You set the iPad down gently and gave yourself the excuse to do it by using both hands to pick up the toast, taking a small bite and chewing slowly before picking up your coffee with both hands next so the iPad wasn’t a distraction.

“So,” Ellie said eventually. “You have that movie coming out soon, right?”

“I do,” you said, looking over at her and smiling just a little.

“Probably have to go do all that promotional shit soon, huh?” She asked, brows raised.

You nodded.

“Next week,” you said. “You’re going to go stay with your grandmother while I’m back in LA.”

She nodded slowly.

“Are you going to be doing the TV shows and shit?” She asked.

“Some,” you said. “Doing a few days of interviews for different outlets and then I’ll be on Jimmy Kimmel the day before the premiere.”

“Remember that time you were the voice of the cartoon duck when I was little?” She asked, smiling bigger. “You brought me and Mom to the premiere?”

You laughed a little.

“Yeah, you didn’t want to wear a skirt then either,” you said. “You were like seven and you insisted on wearing jeans on the red carpet.”

Ellie laughed, too.

“I liked that movie,” Ellie said. “It was good.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled at her. “I made it for you.”

She smiled tightly, the two of you watching each other for a moment.

“Maybe we can watch it together when you get back?” She asked. “Haven’t seen it in a while.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’d like to that.”

“Cool,” she said as Esmo set a breakfast sandwich in front of her.

Esmo gave Joel a look, a death glare that told him to keep his mouth shut lest he disturb the delicate dance happening at the breakfast bar as the two of you ate side by side in silence, neither of you looking at the other but also not at any phone or tablet.

Eventually, when Joel knew he was going to have to get Ellie loaded into the car, she broke the silence.

“Hey Sissy?” She said, looking at you hesitantly.

“What’s up kiddo?” You asked, watching her with a gentle smile on your face.

“I…” Ellie paused, looking to the side for a moment and taking a deep breath before facing you again. “It really fucking sucked when my mom died. Even though we knew it was coming it still really, really, really fucking sucked. But as bad as it was… I know it would have been a whole lot worse if you weren’t here. I’m really glad I’m not doing this shit on my own.”

Even from his place near the coffee maker, Joel could see you starting to tear up as you reached out and cupped her cheek.

“I’ll always be here for you,” you said, voice wet. “You’ll never be on your own.”

“I know,” she said. “I just… wanted you to know. That I know.”

You smiled.

“Thanks, kiddo,” you said. “Have a good day at school, OK?”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “Have a good day doing… whatever it is famous people do.”

You snorted and Joel got Ellie to school, the uncomfortable tension that had been in the air in the house since the day of the fight fading.

It was a relief for Joel, too. He tried not to think about why, instead deciding that he was happy that he didn’t need to try and tiptoe around you and Ellie anymore. He’d felt oddly uncomfortable, knowing that you were hurting. He found himself trying to avoid picking at you the way he usually did, any small, cruel pleasure he took from it nowhere to be found when he knew you were actually miserable.

He wasn’t sure why he cared. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know why he cared. Now, things could go back to normal.

And they did. Mostly.

You still did the exact opposite of what he asked you to do whenever possible. You still went for coffee at the local coffee shop at least once a week, the one you’d gone to so much that Joel was certain the girl behind the counter knew who you were. You still went grocery shopping yourself. One day, when you apparently wanted to send him into a blind rage, you drove to a public park and got out of the car without saying a word.

“Hey!” Joel yelled, jogging to catch up to you as you stretched a little, jogging in place as you did.

“Yes, Big Miller?” You asked, brows raised, that stupid baseball cap that you pretended like protected you from everything under the sun pulled low over your face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?” He asked, his hands on his hips, jaw squared.

“Going for a run,” you said, as though this were the most typical thing in the world.

Which, if you weren’t the most famous woman in the world, it would be. That just wasn't the case. Not with you.

“Not out in public you ain’t,” he said. “Back in the car. Now.”

“Back in the car. Now,” you said, puffing your cheeks out mockingly. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t feel like running on a treadmill today, it’s finally not 115 degrees outside, I’m going for a run in the park. Keep up if you want, sit in the car if you don’t, it’s really no skin off my back either way.”

You started at a jog down the path before Joel had a chance to argue. He just growled, following along behind you, sweating through his t-shirt and jeans and wishing he was in his gym shoes instead of his fucking work boots. He glared as he passed other people on the trail, each of them looking at him like he was some kind of crazy person.

“See, was that so bad?” You asked, panting for breath, your skin covered in a sheen of sweat as you made it back to the car. He snatched the keys from your hand and stalked to the driver’s door as you laughed. “God, you’re so sensitive! Such a baby…”

So the next day - when you decided to go to fucking Target in the middle of the afternoon after going to the dentist - Joel had had just about enough.

“No,” he said as you pulled into the parking lot. “Absolutely not.”

“Well that’s unfortunate for you,” you said, ignoring him and getting out of the car, anyway.

But Joel was ready for you this time, catching you as you came around the trunk of your SUV, making you jump. “What are you… Hey!”

He ignored you, looping an arm around your waist and forcing you back as you beat uselessly at his chest. He wrestled the back door open and forced you unceremoniously into the back seat before he climbed in the driver’s seat and pushed the button to activate the child locks.

“What the fuck!” You protested, pulling helplessly at the door handle.

“Act like a fuckin’ child and I treat you like a fuckin’ child,” he said. “No reason for you to go to fucking Target. Already went to the store this week, don’t need any more of this shit from you.”

“You realize that I pay you, right?” You snapped, leaning between the driver and passenger seats to scowl at him. “I’m literally your boss, you can’t just manhandle me into my own fucking car because you’re in a mood!”

“Actually, pretty sure your manager signs the checks to my brother’s business,” Joel said, fighting the urge to smirk about it. “Studio, too. Think that makes them my boss, not you. Besides, I’m paid to worry about your safety which means I don’t gotta listen to you.

“You’ve been lucky that no one has really noticed that you live here yet but all it takes is one asshole with their goddamn cell phone camera out sharing your photo to one of those damn magazines and you’ll get swarmed everywhere you go,” he continued. “That what you want? These idiots following you everywhere? Following Ellie everywhere? You want your damn stalker showing up at your door?”

You sat back in a huff, crossing your arms and glaring out the window.

“Then maybe you should fucking listen to me,” he said. “Know what I’m talking about.”

“Such an asshole,” you muttered and Joel smirked.

This relationship with you he knew. This, he could handle.

But he still found himself walking a strange line with you as the two of you worked on your fight skills together. Spending a few hours with you every day, showing you how to move your body, your body that was barely covered by those tight little gym outfits. He might loathe those as much as he loathed needing to be around you.

Because, when all was said and done, he couldn’t ignore the fact that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. It was disorienting, even after being around you as much as he was, to see you and recognize that you were real, that you really were just that beautiful.

It wasn’t even that he was attracted to you, he told himself, the fact that you were beautiful was just a fact. Anyone could see it, even him in his deadened state. The fact that his heart beat faster when your hand brushed his skin was just biology. He was just a man, of course he’d have some sort of physical reaction around someone who looked like you.

He tried not to think about needing to be in close quarters with you in new territory over the next few days, about what strange feeling he’d been sure was long dead would awaken in him then.

At least he could still put you through your paces.

Joel came home from picking up Ellie just as the car taking the two of you to the airport pulled up outside. Joel loaded his bags into the trunk of the car, waving off the pushy chauffeur as you herded Ellie to the car with all her bags.

“And you have the charger for your Switch?” You asked, your arm around Ellie’s shoulders.

“Yes,” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“And your laptop for school?” You asked. “Because you can’t get out of homework just because you don’t have it…”

“I have it,” she said. “And I have like 20 pairs of clean underwear and a toothbrush and…”

“And your phone?” You asked.

She looked at you, incredulous.

“Duh.”

You laughed and gave her a squeeze.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s get you dropped off so me and Big Miller can get out of here.”

Ellie snorted.

“Yeah, you and Big Miller need to go do movie star shit,” she said, getting in the back of the car with you, Esmo giving her bags to the chauffeur. “Don’t want to hold up such important things.”

“Alright, Siren,” Joel said. “Let’s go.”

The three of you went to Ellie’s grandmother’s house and she almost tackled her, you getting out and greeting her with a warm hug, too.

“Hey Mom,” you smiled. “Thanks for taking our trouble maker here.”

“Try and stop me from hanging out with my favorite granddaughter,” she smiled.

“I’m your only granddaughter,” Ellie rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

“Have time to come in for a few?” She asked. “Introduce me to this tall, dark and handsome man you brought to my door? I’m Elise, by the way.”

“Oh that’s just Big Miller,” Ellie said, smirking.

“Big Miller?” She frowned down at her before looking at you. “What’s a Big Miller?”

“He’s the security guard I mentioned before,” you said. “And I’m afraid we have a plane to catch.”

“Don’t they wait for you these days?” She teased.

“Not when you fly commercial,” you teased a little back. “But I’ll be back in a few days. Let me know if you need anything.” You turned your attention to Ellie. “Behave yourself, alright?”

“She always behaves,” Elise said. “Which is why I get to load her up with sugar before she goes home.”

“Hell yeah!” Ellie said before looking back to you. “I’ll be good, Sissy. Promise.”

You seemed satisfied but were still slow to get back in the car, giving another final round of hugs before getting back in.

“Directly to the airport, ma’am?” The chauffeur asked.

“Please,” you said, watching out the window as Ellie and Elise headed into the house.

Joel found himself checking on you in the rearview mirror as you made your way to Intercontinental in Houston, a recommendation of Joel’s you’d actually heeded.

“It’s a bigger airport,” he’d said. “Less likely for people to notice you and, if they do, they got no reason to think you live in Austin. Extra layer of security.”

You did your makeup - something he didn’t like noticing - and then kept mouthing words to yourself as you kept your nose buried in an iPad.

“What are you doin’?” He asked eventually and you looked up, your eyes meeting his in the mirror and he tried to ignore how fucking pretty you were when your makeup was done. Didn’t seem possible that you could get any damn prettier but of course you found a way.

“Trying to get off book for the chemistry reads I have tomorrow morning,” you said.

Joel frowned and twisted around to face you.

“The fuck does that mean.”

You smiled a little and he felt a twinge in his chest, one he resented.

“It means I want to have my lines memorized before I need to read them with some people who are kind of auditioning tomorrow,” you said. “It’s not required or expected but I like being able to really focus on the person I’m working with and be a good scene partner. There are a few up and comers, it can be intimidating being in a room and reading with someone like me. I want to make sure they’ve got everything I can give them to do well.”

He just grunted, facing forward again as you got closer to the airport. He hated when you did shit like that, something that seemed kind and thoughtful. He didn’t want to think of you as that type of person, it made him uncomfortable and it was worse when he knew he was about to be closer than usual to you over the next few days. It was easier to keep his distance from you when you were a spoiled brat. When you were nice or observant or, heaven forbid, vulnerable, he was keenly aware of the effect you had on him, on the way he wanted to look at your too perfect face and feel your fingers on his skin. It was an effect he needed to get over. You were a job. Nothing more.

There was a team of people waiting for you at the airport, half a dozen of them damn near swarming the car as the driver pulled up to the curb.

“So it begins,” you said, an ominous note in your voice before you plastered a smile on your face as someone opened the door for you.

The team ushered you through the process of getting you into the airport quickly, apparently desperate to avoid the disruption that would come with your presence if you were noticed. Your bags had been sent ahead earlier in the day and someone in a suit took your tote bag with your iPad and laptop and book and rushed it ahead to security as someone else finalized both you and Joel’s check in on the flight.

“I got a firearm in that bag,” Joel said as someone took his luggage from him. He turned to someone in a suit next to him, one who was paying far more attention to you than to him. “Hey, that OK? They hear me about the gun? Really don’t want to get to fuckin’ California and not have my side arm…”

“I’ll make sure there are no issues,” the man said, giving Joel a tight smile

They moved both of you to the front of the TSA line, the check seeming more cursory than anything for you, at least. They still gave Joel a full pat down, one that strayed a little too close to his crotch than he was pleased with, giving the agent a death glare until they pulled their hand away. Then, in another flurry of people in suits, the two of you were ushered into one of the fancy fucking airport lounges Joel had always walked past but never even dreamed of going inside, tucking you away in a private corner with a reserved sign on the table, a server immediately rushing to take your order. The whole process took maybe 10 minutes, you with a glass of white wine as you folded yourself back into the corner of the couch, settling in with your iPad in your hand again.

Joel scoffed derisively. This shit was almost heaven sent, a reminder of just how easy life was for someone like you. Exactly the thing he needed to remember that you weren’t just some pretty face, that it must be easy to be fucking nice when everyone was waiting on you hand and foot all the time.

“Yes?” You asked, brows raised as you lowered the tablet.

“It always that easy for you?” He asked. “Just everyone takin’ care of all the hard shit, no lines, no dealing with authorities, just stroll right on through?”

You laughed a little, shaking your head.

“It’s easy here because no one was looking for me,” you said. “Wait until we get to LAX, then we’ll talk.”

“What makes you think it’ll bad?” He asked.

“Well, someone on the flight is going to notice me,” you said. “They always do. They’ll tweet about it, probably with a picture they didn’t ask my permission to take, and then half the paparazzi in LA will show up, ready to catch me looking tired and cranky after a flight because I haven’t given them shit in months and, unfortunately, my picture sells.”

“And it’s really gonna be that quick,” he said, skeptical, his brows raised.

“Oh, definitely,” you said. “And it’ll be like that the whole time I’m in LA, there will always be a photographer right on my ass, all day every day. Quinn tipped them off to a few places I’ll be so they will hopefully calm down otherwise but yeah, it’ll get crazy. The good news is, the people in LA are used to it. They see movie stars every day. There will always be a few tourists or super fans who come up but it’s not too bad, just the photographers are rough.”

He nodded slowly, processing. He’d worked closely with Tommy in the week leading up to this, coordinating with a security team in LA. You’d have a driver, other people besides him on hand in situations that might be dicey or where more people would know where you were but Joel was still going to be your body man. He just wasn’t sure exactly what to expect once he was on the ground. He’d never dealt with paparazzi, at least not in fucking Los Angeles.

You finished working on your lines after a while, putting your iPad aside and just looking around the small parts of the lounge you could see from the corner where they’d put you.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Joel asked after a while, curiosity nagging at him.

“Sure,” you shrugged, trying not to look taken aback. “What’s up?”

“Ellie’s grandma,” he said slowly, trying to figure out how to word it. “Seems like you’re closer to her than your mother.”

“That’s because I am,” you said. “And that wasn’t a question.”

He gave you a look and you laughed once.

“I guess I was just… I didn’t know why that was,” he said. “Was wondering.”

You considered Joel for a moment.

“This falls under your NDA,” you said. “Just so we’re clear.”

“Course,” he said.

“Do you know much about my career?” You asked, adjusting in your seat as you did.

He shrugged.

“A little. Know you’ve got an Oscar for some movie I never fuckin’ saw. Know that show you were on, Siren, of course.”

You nodded slowly.

“Well, I was ‘discovered’ when I was five,” you said. Joel’s brows shot up. “I was in line at the grocery store with my mother and a modeling agent saw me there. According to her, he practically signed me on the spot and I started working right away. I don’t remember it well. The work was just catalogue at first, nothing crazy. Then I started doing commercials… by the time I was seven I was on my first TV show.”

Joel frowned at that.

“What show?”

“That sitcom Family Tree?” You said it like it was a question. “It aired in the 90s and the early 2000s, I was the precocious baby of the family. Cute, smart ass, that sort of thing.”

“Oh shit,” Joel laughed. “That was you? Jesus, I remember watching that show with my parents…”

You smiled a little.

“Yeah, that was me,” you said. “My first big job. I met Elise and Anna, Ellie’s mom, on that job. Elise was the tutor for the kids on the show, we basically had our own little school with the five of us. She brought Anna to set one day and we hit it off… Anyway, the point of this is, my mother was my manager. I was on that show for 10 years and I was doing movies, too. My mother was in charge of all of it. She handled my contracts, publicity, all the money… that was the real problem.

“She stopped seeing me as her daughter pretty early, I think,” you continued. “Probably hard to see the person making you rich as your child, not when all you want is to get more money. More, more, more, she was never happy with it. She would throw me at any job that was offered as long as it paid, no real direction to my career for years, not until I started to be old enough to have some of my own damn artistic vision. But… well, she handled the money, every cent I made and boy did she handle it, handled it right out the door.”

“Jesus,” Joel blinked back his shock.

You shrugged.

“I figured out what was going on when I was about 14,” you said. “By then, I’d been working almost 10 years and I didn’t have a damn penny to show for it. In fact, I owed the IRS a shit ton of money because she hadn’t paid taxes, either. It was a disaster because I was suddenly without a manager, penniless, in a legal shit show and I needed to find someone else to be my guardian because lord knew I couldn’t stay with my mother after that. I tried to make a go of it on my own - I thought it would have been easier, it felt like I’d been taking care of myself for long enough anyway - but, when I was through the worst of the financial stuff, I went to live with Elise.”

You laughed a little and Joel wasn’t sure why, none of this shit was funny.

“She was so pissed at first,” you said. “She didn’t say it at the time, of course, she didn’t tell me any of this until I was in my 20s but she was furious I hadn’t come to her right away. She’d already been looking out for me more than my mother ever did, she seemed to know that my mother wasn’t doing anything to take care of me. She had me spend the night with Anna all the time, she was always checking to make sure that I was safe on set - more than I can say for a lot of other kids who have worked in this industry, let me tell you. She was always there for me. I just was afraid that, if she took me in when I had nothing at all, she’d somehow end up on the hook for all the money my mother and I owed everyone. I did an action movie with some stupid, bloated budget when they needed some smart alec teenager to play the kid of the hero and waited for that check to clear. It was enough to cover almost everything I needed to pay back and then I felt like it was OK to go to her and tell her everything. So, as far as I’m concerned? Elise is my mom. The woman who gave birth to me just happens to share my DNA and not much else. I’ll take care of her, check in on her, make sure she has everything she needs for a comfortable life, but that’s it. She is not my mom.”

Joel watched you for a moment, just processing. Without meaning to, he pictured Sarah at 14 - just a year before she’d died - and she was still a kid, just a kid. He pictured her trying to navigate a world that was cold and cruel and cared nothing for her safety without anyone to help her and his blood got hot, his fingers clenching a little tighter, his jaw setting a little firmer.

You frowned at him, cocking your head at him as though he were a curiosity.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” he said eventually, sitting back in his chair and looking back out at the room, watching for potential threats against the shockingly human thing that was you. “Just didn’t expect that is all.”

Someone came and got the two of you for the flight, when boarding was winding down and you wouldn’t need to stand there and wait with all the other mere mortals and Joel was able to tuck that odd feeling down low inside him again. It didn’t matter that you’d once been a vulnerable kid hung out to dry, you’d clearly done just fine for yourself. He didn’t need to think about you that way. It wouldn’t make a difference now, anyway.

The two of you were seated in the front row and, for the first 20 minutes or so of the flight, Joel started to think that you might have been wrong. You’d kept your head down and folded yourself into the window seat as quickly as possible, not giving anyone much of a chance to look at your face. Maybe no one would really notice you, maybe you would be able to make it out of the airport on the other side with no one the wiser.

And then some asshole heading back to his seat from the bathroom froze, his jaw dropping when he saw you.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

You smiled a small, almost amused smile.

“Hi,” you said.

“You’re not…” he said, looking around the rest of first class like he might have been crazy. The man across the aisle for Joel leaned forward, peering around him as he frowned.

“Afraid so,” you scrunched your nose in a way that Joel was sure was meant to cute and charming and probably was to everyone else but, to him, it was just enraging.

“Holy shit,” he said again, stepping in front of Joel as if he wasn’t there at all. “I loved you in Fast Track! That one chase sequence where you were driving backwards was so cool, how did they do that? I read you did your own driving, is that true?”

“I did some of my own driving,” you laughed lightly. “But I didn’t drive much there, we had a stunt driver that actually faced backwards in the car and drove when we were in reverse. I did drive the forward facing parts of that sequence, though. I’m glad you liked it.”

“Can I get a selfie?” The guy asked, already pulling out his phone before you even had a chance to say no. “My best friend is in love with you, he’s going to freak out, he had your poster on the wall of our dorm freshman year.”

Joel was about to tell him to fuck off but you were unbuckling your seat belt.

“Sure,” you said, getting up and standing next to him so he could take the picture. You smiled and looked far more beautiful than anyone sitting on a plane had any right to be and Joel gritted his teeth. “What’s your name?”

“Sean,” he said, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure you were real.

“Lovely to meet you, Sean,” you said. “Tell your friend I said hi.”

He went back to his seat and you sat back down and Joel couldn’t help but notice the way your fingers tightened on the end of the arm rest, as though you could dig your nails into the plastic if you just tried hard enough. It was the only indication that anything was wrong. If he hadn’t been around you so much over the last few weeks, he’d never have noticed but now, it seemed impossible not to.

Sean, it seemed, opened the floodgates. People started cautiously approaching, all talking to you, all awed by you, all asking for selfies that you obliged with a smile. You answered questions patiently, signed napkins, took a video where you said hi to someone’s wife. All the while, Joel ground his teeth while people damn near sat on his lap while they waited to get a moment with you.

Eventually, a flight attendant got fed up and made an announcement.

“Everyone, we understand that we have a high profile passenger on board,” she said. “While I’m sure this is very exciting for some of you, we still need to maintain safe travel conditions while in route to Los Angeles. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened so flight attendants can do their jobs and you’re not hurt by unexpected turbulence. Thank you.”

Joel could have kissed her as everyone reluctantly made their way back to their seats and you visibly relaxed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did.

“You alright?” Joel asked, keeping his voice low.

You opened one eye, looking at him quizzically before closing it again.

“Fine,” you said. “Just ready to get to LA.”

Joel kept his eyes and ears open the rest of the flight, hearing your name come up in hushed whispers from all around them. He heard the snap of a cellphone camera shutter and looked around, glowering, for the culprit but never spotted them. Joel searched your name on Twitter. You were trending, pictures of you being rushed through airport security earlier and from the plane everywhere while everyone under the sun tried to figure out what the fuck you’d been doing in Houston, Texas, to begin with.

When the plane landed, the flight attendant let you and Joel off first to avoid the threat of chaos as you made your way quickly toward arrivals.

But you paused, just shy of the end of the secured area, staring it down the sliding doors as though they were an opponent.

“We doin’ this or not?” Joel asked, probably gruffer than he should have.

“We are,” you said, not looking at him. “I’m just… saying goodbye to the quiet life I’ve had the last few months. I’m going to miss it.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, you just made for the security doors, greeted by a sea of cameras as the chaos of your existence in Los Angeles welcomed you home.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you for being patient with this series! I've started graduate school so everything I care about seems to get put on the back burner anymore. I hope you enjoyed it, anyway.

This LA arc I am SUPER excited for. Get ready to learn so so SO much more about Siren and Joel both as things ramp up in the City of Angels.

Also, sending some love to one of my besties (who does NOT read my fic but does know I write it) who answered the arbitrary questions I had about the Houston airports. She's the best.

Thank you for choosing to spend your time with my work! Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #the savage and the sanctuary #bodyguard!joel

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azsazz · 2 years ago

Text

Winter Winds

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon req: ik you probably won’t get to this in a while but i just read “in ribbons” and absolutely loved it!! got me so hot and bothered. anyway, thinking abt az, reader, and the kids got me thinking…what if the entire ic and their kids are all at wind haven for some trip or something. the oldest kids are pre teens, a bit older maybe. while at the camps, someone attacks the reader and she’s like seriously hurt. like seriously seriously hurt. az goes ballistic, and all the kids get so worried. but especially the older ones, maybe wren baz and zuzu, they get super angry and want to help az get revenge for their mother?

Warnings: Injury, mentions of blood and gore. Traumatized children but they are otherwise unharmed.

Word Count: 4,921

Notes: You didn’t think I forgot about posting today, did you? Silly. I didn’t make them pre-teens, they’re I guess a bit younger than that but close, but I think I’ve got most of the idea in here, except the revenge part. Sorry about that and sorry in advance this one’s kinda sad.

_________________________________________

“Daddy?!”

His son’s frantic voice slices up his spine like an icy blade, plunging deep and cleaving him in half.

At the sound, Azriel’s body flashes hot with adrenaline and everything else slows to a crawling pace.

He spins on his heel instantly, ignoring the grumbling of the camp warlord who’d been reporting to him, now muttering under his breath about letting his savage brood run wild in the camps, that he doesn’t know how to raise them.

His family means more to him than anything, and that terrified shout from his son to grab his attention isn’t one he’s heard in years.

Something is very very wrong.

Azriel’s heart stammers in his chest like the frantic beat of wings in war when he locks eyes with his second oldest son, Baz.

He shouldn’t be out here alone, even if he has been in the training camps for nearly two years now and knows his way around. If any of the warriors had grabbed him and thought to teach the Azriel a lesson through his child…the spymaster shivers at the thought.

The more pressing concern, the one that makes his brows twitch into confusion and fuels his feet forward and nearly halts his heart in his chest, is that young Baz isn’t dressed for the cold. The Illyrian mountains in the peak of Winter could give even the most attuned warrior frostbite in mere minutes, and Baz isn’t even wearing a coat.

Worse yet, there’s tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks, cherry red from his journey.

He must’ve run the entire way to meet him in boots that are untied and tripping him in his haste to find his father. If someone’s stolen his jacket Azriel will be the last thing they see as he–

Azriel’s slipping out of his own coat, uncaring that the snaps rip open by the base of his wings. He needs to get his son bundled up, and quickly, before he comes down with something worse than the cold Azriel already knows is in his future. He scoops Baz into his arms, wrapping him carefully and hugging him close to his chest. His shadows swirl around both of them, already preparing to winnow them away.

“What’s wrong buddy?” he’s whispering, wiping the tears from his son's bruning face. Sometimes he and his older brother will get into arguments that have one of the boys running to Azriel in a fit full of tears but never something quite like this. Baz knows how to put his coat and tie up his boots and not to run across the camp alone–

The little boy in his arms releases a sob that nearly shatters the snowy peaks of the mountains surrounding them, “Mommy–”

He doesn’t need to continue. Azriel winnows them back to the house without a second thought, hugging Baz tightly to his chest, lips pressed to the crown of his sweaty black hair. He hopes that his son can’t feel him trembling, fisting his hands in his coat to stop the shaking. If something has happened to you he doesn’t know what he will do. How he will survive.

But he would’ve felt it, if there was something wrong, through the bond you share. He lets his shields slide down, reaching out for that golden thread, the one that feels like warm summer winds in the night sky, your hand caressing his soul.

There’s nothing.

Azriel gives a sharp tug but receives no response as he and his son arrive in a mass of black shadows on the front porch. The bond grows more taut with worry the more he tries, desperate pleas for you to respond that go unanswered as he shoves the door open with a heavy boot.

The house is in complete chaos.

His shadows scatter immediately, searching and returning with whispers of bloody fingerprints on the counter top, streaking across the wall in his bedroom, on the doorknob to the bathroom, while he frantically searches the room for the rest of his children.

Horror coils his gut at the scent of his mate’s blood, thick in the air. It makes him choke, hot and heavy in the back of his throat.

Azriel sets Baz down, nearly tearing the door off of its hinges when he shuts it and turns the lock. He allows himself a single drawn out breath while his mind reels for a plan of action.

Wren looks more worried than his little brother, though Azriel knows that his eldest is trying his best to keep his emotions together for his siblings.

He had a screaming Jax in his arms, the younger boy clearly distraught about the heightened feelings of anxiety and concern smothering him. He reaches up for Azriel as Wren carries the struggling babe closer, trying his best to keep hold of his brother.

“Dad,” Wren breathes a sob of relief, but Az notes the twins in their playpen, Malos’ cries are loud enough for the silent wailing babe beside her, four sets of tiny hands curled around the brim of the pen with white knuckled fingers.

“Wren, I need you to watch your siblings for a little bit longer, okay?” Azriel’s voice is strained with tension as he calls out to Rhysand in his head, his golden eyes a hair wider as he searches the room for Zuzu. He rubs a reassuring thumb across Wren’s cheek and over Jax’s hair, trying to calm the little boy down. “Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass will be here any minute, alright bub? They’re going to take us all to the River House.”

Wren’s lip quivers but he’s squaring his shoulders as he looks up at his father, “Mommy’s hurt.”

“I know,” it pains him to say it, but by now he knows, “I’m going to get her, will you and Baz help the little ones put on their shoes please?”

Wren nods and sets to work helping his father while Azriel rushes towards the bathroom where his shadows have located both Zuzu and you.

He finds Zuzu is sitting in front of the bathroom door, banging on it as she wails for you. Her throat must be raw from the screaming because she sounds horse, tears dripping down her face and snot bubbling from her nose.

Azriel hears Rhys and Cassian appear in the living room, and he lifts Zuzu up from under her arms as Cassian appears, his first thought to help his brother.

“Az–” Cassian sounds nervous for his brother. When he’d gotten the call a short time ago telling him that he and Rhys needed to pick up the children because something had happened to you his heart dropped, terrified for his best friend.

“Just take her, please,” Azriel pleads, letting the worry he feels coat his words. His throat is tight with emotion and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep himself from going berserk because he can see the red painted handprint on the brass knob and the smell of your blood is overpowering.

“I’ve got her,” Cassian nods, and the look in his hazel eyes gives Azriel brings forth that last shred of hope as his brother turns away and he twists the knob.

His knees nearly give out at the sight of you, unconscious and lying in a pool of your own blood. You look paler under the luminescent faelights, the hand holding together the gaping wound in your side now slack in the puddle of crimson.

Your name is a cry of helplessness on his lips as he dives forward, knees cracking against the tiles as he slides closer, pressing his fingers to the pulse point in your neck and caressing your face with the other, a shaky hand brushing the hair back from your face.

His shadows have alerted him that you’re breathing, but barely so, and he releases a shaky breath because he wasn’t able to feel the barely there beat of your pulse beneath his fingers with how badly they’re desensitized from his own burns and the pounding of his own heart.

But Gods–the gash in your side is something a warrior would receive in battle, like you have taken a long sword to the side, your flesh tearing open, muscles and blood and–

No, he doesn’t want to think about whether he sees an organ or not. No, he needs to focus on stopping the bleeding. Azriel can’t help but think, his beautiful mate…who has done this to you?

Rhys and Cass both appear within seconds, having called for the best healers in Velaris to the River House, where his children now are, under the care of the High Lady and Inner Circle themselves.

“Az,” Rhysand murmurs, hardly louder than a simple breath as he takes in the state of the room. His spymaster, on his knees in a pool of your blood as he tries his best to stop the bleeding. The towel you had grabbed is already sopping wet with blood and there’s no signs of it slowing.

His wings are drooped low behind him, the slippery warmth of the floor against the thin velvety skin is a reminder of exactly how much blood you have lost. Had he been any later, had you not sent Baz–

“Help me.”

It makes both brothers freeze, the utter helplessness, the devastation in Azriel’s voice, so small, so soft, unlike anything they’ve ever heard.

They jump into action.

“Az,” Cassian approaches him like he’s approaching a wild beast, unsure of how to approach this side of him, soft footing and hands raised in surrender. The spymaster lets his brother place a hand on his shoulder, turn him from his spot so that they’re looking at each other.

Cassian has never seen Azriel so panicked, not in the 500 years they’ve been best friends. Not through the wars, the nightmares, the births…not even through the mild complications you’d gone through when the twins were born. No, he was a solid wall, not an ounce of emotion had cracked through the barriers he had built, but this…

His chest heaves with every breath he takes, short and quick and filled with anxiety. Azriel’s hands are vibrating when Cassian takes them in his own. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling in your blood, that Az’s hands are slippery with it, all he cares about are his friends.

“Az,” he tries again, and the usual honeyed gaze of the shadowsingers meets his own. He’d startled him. Can see the swirling emotions racing behind his eyes; the hatred, the scared, the utter fear, his mind unable to grasp onto one feeling long enough to put thought into it. “We’re going to take you to the River House, okay?”

He’d carry him if he had to, but Rhys can get the job done. There’s worry that Azriel might explode, break completely in his hands and let the beast within him finally take over. And if that happens, he’s glad the children are far away, because no one, not even Cassian nor Rhysand, will stop him from turning the Illyrian camps into nothing more than a tornado of black mist.

Azriel isn’t seeming to comprehend what he’s saying, head tilting down to look at where his hands rest in Cassian’s grip, thumb sliding through the cooling blood on his hands like it’s not the ichor of his mate, painting his hands the color of Cassian’s siphons.

Rhys comes around the both of them, crouching to place a hand on each of their shoulders. The wisps of darkness that carry them through the planes of the continent must strike something within Azriel because he’s tensing under his touch and wrenching away.

“Az,” Rhys commands softly, hands raised to show no sign of wanting to corral his brother’s anger, “The babes are right in there.”

The reaction from his statement is near instant, locking down his emotions little by little like the scales of his armor retracting into his leathers, until there is almost nothing left.

Azriel spins on his heel, already heading towards the shut door between him and the muffled cries of his children on the other side.

Cassian steps into his path, stopping him.

He watches the spymaster assess him with a trained eye but Cassian’s already weighed his brother's reactions in his head, being a true warlord himself. There is no way he will let the children see their father like this, worked up with their mother’s blood all over them.

Rhys draws the attention of the shadowsinger again, both Illyrians goading him like a tiger waiting to strike, “(Y/N) is this way. She’s with Madja and her best healers.”

The sound of your name strikes him low, chest caving and reaching down the bond for you again, knowing there will be no response, a wall of icy metal stopping him from entering.

Azriel glances at the door again, but makes his way towards the room you’ve been hauled off to, worried for your wellbeing.

The saliva is thick in his mouth as he ascends the stairs, his brothers tight on his flanks. His hands are curled into tight fists and he can feel the cracking of your blood on his hands in a way that would normally be calming if it were anyone else's blood, but not yours.

Never yours.

He pushes into the room and doesn’t look at the wound or the few nursemaids that are crouching over you. He doesn’t look at the bowls of water stained crimson, the towels dripping or the clothes they’d cut you out of, he keeps his focus on your closed eyes.

He’s quick to find his place at your side, perching out of the way as he reaches for your hand but freezes when he catches sight of his own.

“Here,” Cassian’s soft voice has him looking up, the warlord holding a freshly damp rag for him to take, not even a touch of red on it.

His throat works against a swallow as Azriel takes it, scrubbing his hands like he’s the one who’d rubbed his skin down to the bone and left these scars.

He does the best that he can without spiraling. He’s had blood on his hands before, many times, but the fact that it’s your blood has him reeling, immediately stopping the work on cleaning his own hands in favor of helping you clean yours.

When he’s done he hands it back to Cassian who gives him a soft nod and a sad smile. Neither are the things he wants to see right now. All he wants to see is you opening your eyes and looking at him, smiling, laughing, unharmed.

There’s nothing else to do but wait, which he does so quietly, stroking his thumb across your forehead while his other keeps your limp hand firmly tucked in his grasp.

He doesn’t look at the wound they’re stitching up, but he can’t help himself from reaching down the bond every few minutes, silently praying to the Mother that you will respond.

His brothers wait by the door. Rhys lets Cassian get cleaned up and check on the children while he watches Azriel from across the room, his own heart aching for his brother in this situation, to be near his own mate at a time like this.

But he stays put because that’s what any of them would do for each other, even when Cassian comes back, hands clean and clothes new, no traces of your blood on him.

They know that there will be no moving Azriel from your side to clean up, so they don’t even try. When Feyre dips her head into the room, catching a glance at you and your mate on the lone bed, a handful of healers working frantically around, they share a look.

It’s Rhys who approaches him this time, making sure his footsteps are heard by the shadowsinger as he nears.

He watches Azriel’s shoulders pull up taut, his spine stiffening and shadows curling his rounded ear that the High Lord is approaching.

His golden gaze is a harsh glare, a warning to stay away, and although Rhys understands the look, it still hurts.

“Az, maybe you should get cleaned up,” he suggests softly, keeping a healthy distance away from the bed. The healers have started sewing up your wound, having been able to stop the blood and stabilize you, and their work will be done soon.

The shadowsinger’s face doesn’t change as he looks back down at you, dismissing Rhys with that single action.

“The kids,” he tries, “They’re worried. They want to see you.”

Azriel nearly startles at the mention of his children. They’d been half scared to death when he’d last seen them, frantic and worried about their mother just as much as he was. He can see them all clearly, Wren trying to be strong, Baz’s red face wet with tears, Zuzu and Jax and the twins all crying out for help, understanding that something was horribly wrong.

“The kids,” he murmurs, as if he’s not even there. Azriel pets your hair again, smoothing his fingers down your cheek, across your lips, finding their way to the juncture of your jaw and throat, where your pulse is.

Rhysand waits with a baited breath as Azriel counts, comes to whatever conclusion in his mind that he can, grasping for some sort of sign that you might be okay.

The beating of your heart is constant, evened out even though one of the nurses has already told him as much. He won’t leave you if he doesn’t think you’ll be okay.

But he knows you would want him to make sure the children are okay, so he places a kiss on your hand, ignoring how the warmth hasn’t quite returned to it completely, before settling it comfortably at your side and standing from the bed.

He follows his brothers from the room and as soon as the door snicks shut behind him and the wail of Zuzu is carried to him on the whisper of a shadow, he breaks.

He makes a break for his children, his flight sense kicking in but he’s hauled backwards into the arms of Cassian, holding him tightly across the chest as he struggles.

If he were in his right mind he’d be able to figure a way out of his hold.

“Az, you have blood all over you,” Cassian grits, his breath puffing with the struggle of keeping Azriel in his hold. He’s writhing like an animal, trying to tear his way through whomever he needs to to get to his family. “You can’t go in there like this. You’ll scare them.”

That makes him stop struggling, worming his way out of Cassian’s touch.

“But Baz didn’t have a jacket on–”

“He’s already been looked at by a healer,” Rhys supplies, trying to calm the skittish shadowsinger.

“And Zuzu’s been screaming her head off,” he retorts just as easily, mind reeling at how his children must be feeling.

“She’s been given a soothing tea for her throat,” Cassian adds, fiercely protective of them as he is his own children.

“And Jax–”

“Jax is an empath,” Rhys agrees, ushering Azriel towards the other end of the hallway, “And it’s normal for him to react like that with all of the emotions running rampant in the room at the time. You need to calm yourself down if you are to hold him, your reactions will harm him more than Wren’s. For now he’s fine. They’re all okay, Azriel. Here and in one piece, waiting for you.”

Azriel’s wide eyes are glossy as he looks between his brothers, back and forth as if he’s searching for anything other than the truth there.

He won’t.

“They’re okay?” he asks again, not quite sure he believes it.

Both of his brothers nod, “They’re okay Az. Promise.”

.·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·.

You feel like utter shit.

Like you’ve been carved down to the bone with a blade. There’s a pounding in your head and when you open your eyes the room spins, bright with light. Your head goes with it, the whispers of words striking like a bell tower to your brain.

“(Y/N)?”

That voice silences everything.

You squeeze his hand, blinking against the faelights until the three Azriel’s you see finally become one, perfect, mate.

“Az,” you breathe.

He bites his lip, hardly able to contain the relief he feels in this moment. He knows you’ve just opened your eyes but he’s squeezing his shut tight and resting his forehead gently against your own.

And the bond floods with warmth, his breath catching in his throat.

“I’m here,” your free hand finds his hair, smoothing through it the best that you can in your weakened state, “I’m here, Love.”

He nearly whimpers, would have if his mind hadn’t gone immediately into spymaster mode, seeing you awake.

He pulls away from you all too quickly, sitting straight in his spot beside you, the golden glow of his iris’ swimming with dark shadows.

“Who.” he asks, and it’s not a question. It’s the only word he can get out, voice dipped in steel and as sharp as the blade he’s been filing for the days you’ve been under rest.

“Some old relative,” you cough, throat dry, and you hiss at the pull in your stitches. Azriel is quick to help you drink some water down, soothing the roughness in your voice and the pounding in your head. “Claimed to be so, at least.”

“Fucking bastards,” he spits, the shadows in his eyes sweeping into hot, angry flames, “I’ll kill every single fucking one of them.”

“Az,” you sigh. You love your mate dearly and this is about as normal a reaction as you would expect from him, but you’re so achingly tired. “Are the kids okay?”

He shudders at the thought of something happening to your children and kisses across your knuckles, your hand in his shaking ones.

“Yes, the babes are fine.”

You settle a bit more, knowing that truth. The fact that Azriel has referred to them as babes shows you just how terrified he truly is.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, propping his chin where your hand is holding his.

“Tired,” you offer, because you’re afraid that a joke might push him over the edge. “Can I see my babies?”

Azriel looks like he might protest. You’ve been changed and brought to a different room once the painkillers and healing drinks the nurses had forced down your throat had begun to work, but he thinks of his rowdy children and your fresh injury, he worries for you.

But you’re pleading, “Please, Love. I need to see them.” And he gets it.

Because he finds himself needing to see them as well.

“Drink some more water, tell me what happened, and I’ll get Rhys to bring them in.”

You hold his gaze, nodding finally.

Azriel helps you drink some more water, nearly a whole glass before you begin.

“I was on my way back from the mercantile,” you start, swallowing harshly as you wrack your brain for what had happened. “Just a quick trip to get some treats for the little ones,” you laugh dryly, tears welling up in your eyes. Azriel’s quick to thumb them away, caressing your cheek with his warm hand.

“I didn’t see him coming until it had already happened,” you admit shamefully. Your mate had taught you better than that and you had failed him.

Your mate sends nothing but warmth down the bond because while you may have been taken by surprise, he knows you didn’t go down without a fight.

“I didn’t understand how bad it was until after he was laying in the snow next to me and I looked at my torn coat and saw all the blood.”

You remember crying out as his blade slashed across your body and took you to your knees. You’d been able to act through the pain, kicking a foot out behind you and sweeping your attackers feet from under him.

It was easier to pry the longsword from his hands when he was gasping for air and even easier to make sure he never took another breath again.

“I don’t remember getting home,” you exhale a shaky breath, “I was just holding my side and there was so much blood Az, so much blood.”

He shushes you softly, upset with himself that he’s asked you to share this story. If he had known your attacker was dead he wouldn’t have asked and before he can try and stop you you’re already continuing.

“I was afraid to go home,” you admit, and his hand clutches yours tighter, “I didn’t want the babes to see me like this.”

Your admission hangs over the both of you, loud in the otherwise silent room.

“I’m glad you did,” Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion, “If you hadn’t and I had lost you…”

“You didn’t,” you reassure, maybe for the both of you, “Let’s not think about that.”

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to think about anything else but he nods, agreeing.

“I hid it the best I could, but you know Wren,” the thought of your oldest brings a smile to your face, “He’s so smart, that one. I told him to watch the babes for me while I went to clean up and he tried to talk to me, tried to ask me what was wrong but I just kept going, telling him that I was fine and would be out in a minute…” you trail off because you weren’t out in a minute. On the floor unconscious in a minute more like.

Azriel kisses your knuckles, lingering on your fourth finger before he answers, “He told Baz to come get me. I was talking to a commander and he came running up screaming and crying out for me. Scared me shitless I tell ya. Didn’t even have a coat on.”

Your eyes bulge and you try to sit up, distressed over your son out in the mountains without a coat, “Is he–'' your question is cut off by a hiss and Azriel’s on his feet guiding you back down onto the bed, gentle hands on your shoulders.

“He’s alright, Love. They all are. Got them all checked on while they were helping you. Not even a sniffle,” Azriel soothes. He relaxes when your shoulders droop and you settle back into the pillows.

“Thank you,” you whisper, thumb brushing across his knuckles, “I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). So fucking much,” he breathes, shuddering when you caress his cheek.

You tug on him weakly, puckering your lips for a kiss that he easily ducks down for, the tension melting away from his body now that you’re awake in his arms.

“Can I see them now?” you ask as soon as you pull away. Your mate huffs playfully, already calling out to Rhys in his mind.

The door slams open, Wren and Baz racing into the room with the Inner Circle hot on their heels. Rhys is holding Zuzu, Feyre’s hugging Jax close to his chest while Cassian and Nesta each hold a babe, their own boys trailing in behind them.

Azriel shoots to his feet, catching his two oldest sons around their waists before they can launch themselves at you.

“Mommy,” Wren cries from his father’s grasp and Baz bursts out into tears at the sight, reaching over Azriel’s shoulder for you.

“Az, let them go,” you scold lightly, but caress the bond, thankful for stopping them before another injury could happen.

“Boys, you need to be gentle with mommy, okay?” Az holds each of their arms, making sure that his order has been received by each son before slowly letting them go.

They’re both on your uninjured side, Baz tumbling into your arms. He climbs up onto the bed and you hold him close, letting him cry into the crook of your shoulder, reaching out for Wren with tears in your own eyes.

“Hi baby,” you whisper, voice thick.

“Mom,” he breaks, tears spilling as he climbs up next to Baz, letting you run your fingers through his hair.

You bite your lip, holding your boys as close as you can, before looking around the room at the rest of your children, your family.

Each one is looking at you with smiles, some pained, some relieved, some teary, and you know that if something had gone wrong, that your children would be in the best of hands.

Your teary gaze slides back to your mate. He hadn’t looked away from you while you were taking everyone in, seeming to know exactly where your mind had just been. But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, all he wants is to hold you and his children as close as he can, forever and always.

Cassian hands Knox off to Azriel as he rounds the bed to your injured side, taking the spot next to you to block your injury as he gestures to his brothers and their mates to bring forward the rest of your children.

Let us know if you need any help, Rhys speaks to Azriel and the shadowsinger nods, looking at you with the babes all curled in close, hugging each other tight.

He knows they won’t leave you now, but he doesn’t care because everyone is here together, in one piece.

One big family.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #dad!azriel #daddy!azriel #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #azsazz #azsazz next gen #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #acosf #acofas

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frogchiro · 11 months ago

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As a proprietor of a Skyrim blog myself, do you have any other headcanons for our darling Call of Duty gentlemen? Perhaps what their classes and roles might be in that universe?

Ngghh I love this ask and it's perfect for a come-back!! And I'm very sorry that you had to wait so long for this :((

My Skyrim hyperfixation comes back every year around this time so have this super specific roles/races of the CoD men <3 This was brought to you by Kin's hyperfixation and me listening to Skyrim soundtrack <3

Simon would definitely be a Nord through and through; big, burly, hairy and strength for days! Perfect body for surviving the harsh Skyrim winters, hunting Saber-tooth tigers and bears for their precious pelts for keeping warm or lugging heavy wood after him to place in the hearth in his modest cabin deep in the woods near Dawnstar.

Johnny would be a Breton!! Just think about it!! He's canonly a demolitions expert, knows his way around explosives right? Sooo he'd be adept at Destruction Magic, always eager to learn until it eventually turns into a fight where he just...blows his opponent up/ That's how he got kicked out of the Winterhold Academy for being insubordinate and seriously harming one of the students there by loosing control of his spells. Now he's traveling through Skyrim as a mercenary/adventurer, always getting into fights and being known for exploring places where no one else would dare to go it.

My boy Kyle is a proud Redguard! A skilled fighter and extremely knowledgeable, he was traveling through Tamriel as an adventurer too, visited Morrowind, Elsweyr and while he was traveling through Cyrodil he met the big, burly Nordman, Price! He actually saved him when he got accidentally cornered and heavily injured by a group of Draugrs when he was exploring old ruins and Price helped him fight them off and then took him back into his camp and helped him. Since that time Kyle is a loyal friend and companion of Price, learning all the time from the older man and bettering his fighting skills <3

And now for John!! He's a Nord too, an older and seasoned warrior and former soldier in the Imperial Forces, he stationed most of his life whenever he was send and now that he's retired Price decided that he wants to return back to Skyrim. I imagine he'd settle somewhere in the Rift, close to a village but far enough to have a lot of privacy...Or at least wanted to until he met the young Redguard man, Kyle, and saved him <3

Bonus!:

Philip would definitely be half -Nord-half -Imperial, idk why I just feel it😭I think that even though there's Nord in him as well Philip would be very adamant on disregarding that side of him, always introducing himself as Imperial since he'd kinda have that mindset instilled in him that Nords are just mostly meat-headed savages. He rose through ranks in the army and is now a general like Tullius, known for his strategic mind and skills in battle. He got acknowledged by the Emperor himself and given an award; poor Phil thought he'd be rewarded in gold, lands and riches but instead his 'reward' was to be stationed in Solitude and supervise the Imperial forces in Skyrim😭

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #skyrim au #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader

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twodogs-twocats · 5 months ago

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The Maskmaker and the Masked - Part II (Sleep Token’s III x fem reader) - 18+, NSFW

As your work on the new Sleep Token masks progresses, your relationship reaches new levels during a night out. Turn on your favorite spicy dance tunes to add to your reading pleasure.

Warnings: Smut - 18+, Minors DNI. Fingering, toy play, public sex.

Part I 🖤 Part III

You had never been a religious person, but you were becoming quite devout. As III straddled your body, his long legs like a steeple, his fingers danced between your thighs rubbing you lightly over your underwear. You whined and bucked your hips. “Please,” you whimpered, a prayer for pleasure.

For two weeks it had been like this: You were staying at the manor, spending most of your day diligently crafting the new masks for the band. The work was intense, almost spiritual in nature, consuming your every waking moment. Well, every moment except those that happened at night, when you wound up in III’s bedroom where he thoroughly consumed you.

III pushed your underwear to the side so that his fingers could explore your warmth, already wet with anticipation. His eyes gazed hungrily at you, as his other hand reached up towards your throat. He placed just enough pressure on your delicate neck to make breathing difficult. A crackly moan escaped your lips.

“You make the prettiest fucking sounds for me dear,” he whispered, his fingertips creating white indents on your skin. “But we can’t get too excited just yet.”

After your first time together, the sex had quickly escalated into something desperate, passionate, and savage. Every night, buried in the mismatch fabrics of III’s bed at the manor, the two of you explored the boundaries of each other’s physicality - everything from making love to fucking. There was something about him that inspired your creativity, left you always wanting to try something new. Tonight was no exception.

III’s hand on your throat remained while his other hand left your dripping core, beginning to trace long, lazy lines up and down your thighs. You were wearing a very short black leather skirt and a corseted top that left little to the imagination. III looked handsome in tight black jeans and a long-sleeve black dress shirt, which he had unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. He wore his stage mask, now shifted slightly above his lips. “Are you ready to do this?” he asked.

Your time at the manor had been busy, but fun. The boys and their team took good care of you, and had even taken you out sightseeing a few times. On one of your outings, you had passed by a nightclub. Deep booming bass vibrated under your feet, and red light poured from the behind the door. The whole place looked very hole-in-the-wall, but what really caught your eye was the rather beautifully carved mask the bouncer was wearing.

You had been walking with III, his large hand wrapped around yours, while you tried to conspicuously observe the club.

“It’s a fun place,” he said, noticing where you were looking. “We come here from time to time because everyone at the club is required to wear a mask. Just makes things easier for us.”

“Seriously?” You asked. “Isn’t that a bit.. well, dangerous? Anyone could get away with anything?”

III winked down at you. “That’s sort of the point love.”

And that’s how the idea came to you - a night out at the club with III. That is, if the two of you could manage to leave the bed. “Ugh, I suppose we should get going,” you said, rolling out from underneath his massive frame.

“I mean, we could certainly stay, if you prefer,” he said. You noticed a bulge straining against his tight jeans. Clearly neither of you had any sense of self-control.

“It’s going to be fun,” you winked at him, smoothing out your hair. “Trust me.” At this, you reached into your purse and pulled out a small silicone toy and a remote control.

III’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he gifted you a devilish grin.

You took a taxi through the golden dreamscape of London at midnight to arrive at the club. Behind the bouncer, behind a black painted door, were masked revelers partying on a red-lit dance floor. The place was packed, the music loud and sensual. The smell of sweat and perfume filled your nostrils. You were quickly overwhelmed.

III placed his hand on the small of your back. “I’m right here,” he spoke into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You leaned back into him, his body warm and strong. Even surrounded by so much stimuli, his presence commanded your attention.

You stopped at the bar, then made your way to the dance floor. You managed to find a small square of empty space. The music was some slow electro-beat with a driving bass that echoed in your chest. III immediately placed his hands on your waist, pulling your close. He looked beautiful, his black hair hung loose around his mask, his chest already gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. You were wearing an elegant silver masquerade mask you had designed yourself.

“You look beautiful tonight” His voice was faint, even though he was yelling in your ear. The minty smell of his breath drew you in, your lips just a breath away from his as you replied, “I’ll look more beautiful once I’m dancing.”

“I do not doubt that one bit,” he chuckled as he drew your hips closer. The strong muscles of his legs rubbing up against your thighs lit a fire in your core. You began to sway to the music.

III was an excellent dancer. He led you gently, throwing in some rather ridiculous moves that made you laugh. It was your first time out of the manor just the two of you, and you were having an amazing time. The alcohol in your systems loosened you both up quickly. III’s hands became more adventurous running up and down your waist and your backside. You took the opportunity to turn around, grinding your ass against him. His breath caught as he savored the friction of your hips.

“Naughty girl,” he growled. He kept one hand gripped tightly on your hipbone, while his other hand reached down to trace small circles high up your inner thigh. That heat in your belly grew stronger, your breath picking up. The fever of strangers’ bodies as they danced filled the air around you, but all you could focus on was III, as his fingers made their way up underneath your skirt.

His hand on your hip left for a brief moment. You leaned back into him, letting him support your weight as you swayed to the music. His other hand still lingered inches away from the lining of your underwear.

All of a sudden, you felt a vibration begin inside of you, hitting you right on the spot that made your knees buckle. This is what you had been waiting for. A chance to play a risky game with III. A chance to let him have his way with you in full view of others.

A fiery pleasure spread from your core up through your belly. You arched your head back into III’s chest. The music now changed to a fast-tempo sultry pop beat, and the pace of your sway increased to meet it. III brought his other hand back to circle gently around your neck, as he began to kiss your jaw. His fingers under your skirt resumed their exploration, playing with the edges of the fabric of your thong.

Your cheeks burned as you glanced around the crowd to see if anyone was watching you two, but with all the masks it was hard to tell. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own worlds of rhythm and sweat, but for all you knew you could be giving someone a very sexy show. Especially now that III’s hand had left your neck to land at your waist, his thumbs hooking underneath your shirt.

The vibrator inside of you was starting to build. Your eyes rolled up and you whimpered, the sound absorbed by the music. III’s fingers hooked the fabric of your underwear to the side and he started to circle your clit, the action somewhat hidden by the fabric of your skirt. His cock pressed into your backside, and you ground your ass against him. His chest vibrated as he groaned.

Your knees started to wobble as your orgasm approached. You couldn’t believe you were going to come in front of all these people but you didn’t care. Not when III was starting to trace his tongue up and down your neck, his mask pushed up to just under his nose. The music was building to a frantic pace. The bodies around you were a vibrant pulsating mass. All that mattered was III, one hand in your drenched pussy, one hand now fully up your shirt playing with your breasts, his mouth on your neck, and the remote controlled vibrator laying a steady rhythm deep inside you. The two of you were laid bare on your altar, the masked figures around you were your devotees, the music a hymn sung in your honor.

You could feel III’s movements growing sloppy, his cock now fully hard in his jeans. There were no words spoken between you, only the sweat and pull of your bodies. The song reached a soaring peak and you came with the music, your body arching into III’s. His grip tightened, his hand on your clit guiding you through your orgasm.

As you came down you could barely stand. III turned you around and kissed you deeply, taking your weight as you collapsed into him.

In the back seat of the taxi, sweaty and tired, III gazed at you with heavy lids.

“This was the best night I’ve had in a long time love,” his voice was tired but he sounded happy. “I don’t get to do this often. And I’m glad I got to do it with you. You have the most beautiful mind. I like the dirty things it comes up with.”

“What can I say III, you bring it out in me,” you yawned, and III pulled you into his side.

“Stay with me tonight?”

You giggled. “Of course, where else would I go?”

He hesitated for a moment. “You will go home eventually right? Once you finish the masks.”

This thought was crossing your mind more and more. You knew you were getting close to being done, but you were not in the mood to talk about it now. The thought of leaving III an ocean away left an ache in your chest and you needed to ride the high of what had just happened a little longer.

“Eventually. But not yet.” You gave him a soft kiss and snuggled closer, but inside, your heart began to crumble into pieces.

#sleep token #iii #sleep token fanfiction #writing #sleep token iii #fanfiction

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smehur · 22 days ago

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Drarry fic recs #6

[podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry written by @lettersbyelise and read by @timothysboxers

Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

A delightful fic and a phenomenal reading! There are few things I love more than ex-rivals Harry and Draco discovering they actually enjoy each other's company, especially when it's done with such humor. The game of kill, fuck, marry was hilarious, and so was the dancing. And Draco's final birthday wish, well. 🔥 A phrase seen in many stories but rarely delivered with quite that much cheek. I'm all smiles and biting lips just thinking about it. 10/10 would read/listen again.

ready, able by @garagepaperback

“Well, even if we went through with it, it wouldn’t work. But thanks for the grand heroic rushing in. A certain element of purity is needed to break it." Malfoy licks his lips, "You’d have to be a virgin.” Harry keeps every muscle on his face particularly still, hoping it looks to Malfoy as absolutely blank as it feels to him. Half a minute passes. “No,” Malfoy, already doing a poor job of sitting normally on his chair, bends in half, nearly falling out of it. He’s laughing. “No, Potter, no. No- don’t- you’re twenty-five years old!” “And?” Harry asks, heat staining his face. - Malfoy has a problem, Harry wants to help.

Apart from being captivating, tantalizing and touching, this story is also an interesting (and, for this reader, unique) take on the fuck-or-die trope, which I'll generally read "for fun" but will only take "seriously" if it's somehow challenged and reshaped till choice reasserts itself. Like in this fic! Which, on top of everything, (spoiler alert!) ends with one of the hottest sex scenes in my HP reading so far. Truly exquisite. 👌

Savage by @marguerite26

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Another instance where excellent fic managed to sell me a trope I'm not a fan of: werewolves! It's a phenomenal story, with an interesting, political plot, excellent pacing, flawless characterization and steaming hot sex. What more could one hope for?

Virtuous by @heyjude19-writing

Draco is only sin inverted.

I loved this short piece down to the last word. It's so multifaceted! At face value, it's a confession of an unredeemed Draco, but is he? Is he really? Or did "fake it till you make it" work a little better than he expected? I'm fascinated by this because it touches on the question of whether a person can really change, which is, obviously, central to Drarry. Does a selfish motivation behind an act of kindness make the act less kind? I don't know the answers. But I do so enjoy fic that asks the questions!

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

This story is very old and predates the canon ending of the series (thus missing out on a lot of canon Drarry content that would've made it even better). It's also a bit old-fashioned, compared to the fic I mostly read these days, and it triggered some of my technical pet peeves. Yet it hooked me within the first few paragraphs, and I grew to love it with a slow-burn passion. Draco's sudden disability is depicted in a very straight-forward, matter-of-fact, incredibly effective yet sensitive way; and his manner of coping with it is perfectly in character. Meanwhile, Harry is blind in his own way, which helps build the tension but never crosses the line of being too contrived. I had so many feels reading this. It's just beautiful, warts and all.

As always, my heartfelt thanks to the authors of these, and all other lovely stories shared within this amazing fandom, and to the readers helping spread the word. 🥰

#harry/draco #drarry #rec list #fic rec #harry potter #my post

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amber-lucca44 · 6 months ago

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Couldn't sleep and was bored, and kinda hate Drake so um

Drake's biggest fuckups I've caught on this beef

He loves trying to diss Kendrick for his height. Yk like a toddler would.

He tries to say Kendrick's Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers was a bad album. If we're talking critical reviews, it had a Metacritic rating of 85/100, compared to Drake's highest ever rating of 79/100 for Nothing Was The Same. In fact, Kendrick's lowest Metacritic score so far has been 80/100 for Section.80, again over Drake's highest.

...and if we're talking sales or streams, well first, no one ever challenged Drake's sales compared to Kendrick. I think we all know Drake is pretty much unmatched when it comes to that. Second, if sales were a factor to determine quality of music, then holy shit "Despacito" must be an all time magnum opus like nothing anyone ever heard before lol.

Trying to call Kendrick a sellout for doing songs with Maroon 5 and Taylor Swift? Drake calling someone else a sellout? 🤡🤡🤡

The line where he said Kendrick isn't on the big three because SZA, Travis Scott and 21 Savage "got him wiped down". Okay, first, I'm pretty sure this guy thinks big three means just "the three best selling" and uhhh no not quite. And second, and most obvious, SZA? SZA isn't even a rapper, why are you trying to bring her into this? 🙄

The AI to imitate 2Pac's and Snoop's voices. A few points here. First of all, the fucking disrespect to 2Pac, what the fuck. Glad Pac's family threatened him to remove it. Second, Snoop Dogg is alive. You just used his AI voice cause you know damn well he wouldn't be caught dead doing a verse on a Kendrick diss for you. And as a third point, it's just funny you felt like you had to use AI to make a diss track. Ghostwriters weren't enough for this one ig lol.

"Taylor Made Freestyle" was all just him begging on his hands and knees for Kendrick to reply something and give him some attention. Drake took almost a month replying to Kendrick's verse on "Like That". And he's begging for a response to "Push Ups" like a week after it was leaked (and the same day it was even officially released in the first place)

He tried to say the things Kendrick would diss him with. He was mostly right but oh boy did Kendrick do so much more.

Is he a Swiftie too? Cause he wouldn't let her go for "Taylor Made". In his mind, he swears Kendrick wasn't dropping a diss cause he didn't want to interrupt Taylor Swift's album's success, which is just a funny and dumb conclusion to make.

Spends the end of that track just talking, trying to praise Taylor for "managing Kendrick's schedule". 🤡

Drake beginning "Family Matters" with an n word and then going "yeah I said it I know that you mad" really came off sounding like when 12 year olds play online and say the word to seem tough. 😂

"Always rapping like you trying to get the slaves freed". Dang so making songs that actually have substance and meaning means you wanna free slaves, okay.

About these next lines...

Kendrick said he hated the girls you fuck referring to your dumbass being a pedo and hated you trying to hook up with underage girls. Not at any point did he say anything about their color tf.

"I've been with black and white and everything that's in between" okay so all underage girls okay got it. Again that was never the point. 😐

"You the black messiah wifin' up a mixed queen" Drake seriously missed the whole entire fucking point. Kendrick never said he didn't like you for hooking up with white women, what the fuck. And again the messiah thing is just funny.

He mentioned Whitney on "Push Ups", and some gave him the benefit of the doubt thinking he might have just done some wordplay about Whitney Houston being called the same as Kendrick's wife, wasn't clear enough. But these lyrics here are what made it abundantly clear he did want to try to mess with his family. I'm sorry but at this point that's not a rap beef, you intentionally tried to make it personal. Maybe you knew you never had a chance so you thought going there would make it possible to win? As if you didn't have a horrible fucking record already.

"Why you never hold your son and tell him 'say cheese'?" Maybe he doesn't want to expose him too much to the public while he raises him, decent human beings would understand that.

"We could've left the kids out of this, don't blame me" Kendrick said you don't know shit about raising a child based on information that was already abundantly public (see "The Story Of Addidon") and also based on the fact that you, despite having that child, love playing tough on IG and dropping disses using AI begging Kendrick to reply. Trying to get Kendrick's children involved is totally on you, buddy. Kendrick wasn't the one dealing with being exposed with having a child no one knew about and you wouldn't acknowledge.

He loves baselessly claiming that one of Kendrick's children isn't his. Again, baselessly, so literally just gossip lol.

And speaking of baseless stuff, he's really keeps running on his claim that Kendrick has beaten his wife. THERE IS NO EVIDENCE OF THIS. Like at all. In his mind, he probably thinks that since his easily provable bullshit was exposed, he'll try to invent some bs on Kendrick too to make it seem like they're both horrible people. The only piece of shit we know of in this beef is you, Drake.

Not at Kendrick but in a diss aimed at The Weeknd, Drake had to pull out his homophobic card. Disgusting. Fuck, it's so easy to dislike this guy. 🙄

Saying that Kendrick's music only "hitting hard" when Baby Keem writes on it. Is it cause he has writing credits on "N95"? He does ad libs on the song so I'm pretty sure that's why he's listed. Are the ad libs that fire? Lol

"Kendrick just opened his mouth, somebody go hand him a Grammy right now" awww he jealous bout Kendrick's Grammy's lol 🥺

He brought up Kendrick's transgender uncle, and was transphobic to try to diss Kendrick. Just plain ignorant and disgusting as hell. But of course he did. 😑🙄

Tried to blame Kendrick for 2Pac's family threatening legal action for his "Taylor Made Freestyle". Bro what you did was plain disrespectful and it was just bound to happen.

Did he really try to brag about the video leaked of him masturbating? 🤡🤡🤡

And this nonsense right here, was it cause he visited Ghana or something? He's trying to pin Kendrick as a racist? Huh?

...and follows this up with an ignorant, racist, weird ass comment dissing Michael Jackson too for no reason whatsoever. 🤡

Talking to the mirror here lol

Naming his diss track "The Heart part 6" was almost clever. Except for the fact that yk the song is fucking trash.

The first line on this song calls Kendrick "the Pulitzer Prize winner". Yeah pointing out an accolade as amazing as that one at the beginning of a diss towards him will definitely do it. 😀

Having a comment by Dave Free as the cover for the single. Is this his evidence for a kid being his? 😂

Saying you "plotted to give Kendrick information" doesn't even help you much when it's all easily believable based on your background lol.

Denying the child Kendrick is exposing him to have, again, doesn't help your case at all after Adonis.

Goes back to saying Kendrick beat his wife and one of his children is not his, again with no evidence or hint whatsoever, only to go and say he's all about "facts". 🤡

Okay so, be careful everyone, don't leave heart emojis to any child or baby post ever, cause Drake is going to think you're the father.

Why is he even bringing up Kendrick's confessions on "Mother I Sober"? How is bringing up a traumatic potential sexual abuse incident a good way to dodge your own sexual abuse allegations? And that's not even exactly what Kendrick said on the fucking song! It's just disgusting.

And then tries to ridicule Kendrick for being a victim of this. What the fuck is wrong with this mf.

Okay and this one is just cringe. He tried to spin Kendrick's jab on "Not Like Us". B sharp isn't even a thing btw. 😂😂🤡

"I'd never look twice at no teenager" there is literally video of you kissing a teenager on stage, for starters. So you just look at them once before you creep on them how does that work

"Only fucking with Whitney" ah yes the old "I'll fuck your bitch" trope very clever and original Drake

Drake believing some bullshit he saw around about Kendrick using bots to boost his view count is just hilarious. He really thinks Kenny sat down and took some time to actually do that. 😂😂

He thinks people will cancel Kendrick over his baseless battery accusations. 🤡

He ends it with another minute rant like the one he did on "Taylor Made", and starts by saying the beef was "some good exercise". Ngl it is the first time I hear Drake rap at all in a while. So yeah gotta thank Kendrick for getting Drake to actually TRY to do some good music at all. (It's not even good but yk better than whatever trash he was doing before the beef)

"Just let me know when we getting to the facts, everything in my shit is facts" *doubles down on baseless claims of battery and one of Kendrick's children not being his*

#music #kendrick lamar #drake #hip hop #rap #rap beef #fuck drake #it's okay to laugh at him y'all #he's ridiculing himself so by all means proceed #vonnie rants 😗#vonnie talks 💕

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