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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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Undercover | Bandit x fem!reader

[video by Yogendra Singh from Pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: In which Dominic realizes he's fallen too hard for a woman during an undercover mission and he doesn't think he's fit to work for Rainbow anymore.

🎁 A/N: I wrote this for @kind-wolf‘s birthday but she gave me the okay to post it, so hopefully y’all will enjoy it too 💛

✏️ Warnings: slight angst, 18+ only? idk (the sex is generally only implied but there are some paragraphs in which it’s a little less implied), also a dash of fluff?

✏️ Word-count: 11,555

UNDERCOVER

There was something about early-morning runs that just calmed his nerves, even with music blasting in his ears. There was something in the way his trainers would rhythmically slap against the ground; something in the burning in his lungs, in the way the wind would blow against his face every now and then…

The British countryside expanded to infinity on his runs and it erased anything Hereford Base inevitably brought along—training sessions, mission calls, even more simulations, and then endless tests to pieces of equipment that he surely had not missed while on his last undercover mission.

He didn’t think much about it. About the mission. He always tried his best not to, although he did so unconsciously, probably more out of habit than anything else. It was never easy, to go back to a daily routine that didn’t feel yours anymore, to a routine you couldn’t recognize after having pretended to be someone else for the past six years. Some things just get to your head at some point, and going back to who you had once been feels like being reborn completely, and into someone you can’t recognize. You wake up one day, and you find yourself being forced to put on yet another mask, with the only exception that this is no mask. This is your face. Who you are. Or who you’re supposed to be, at least.

And although most likely unprofessional, this was how Dominic Brunsmeier still felt, six months after his mission had come to its end. He woke up every day and for the first, endless minutes he simply lied there, staring at a ceiling he had problems recognizing, with the reality that he was thousands of miles away from Germany hanging like Damocles’ sword above his head. His ears still subconsciously strained for the sound of two dogs’ nails ticking against the tiles of the floor to come to say good morning, and his left hand still stretched out to feel for someone who wasn’t there—who would never be there again.

That’s why running helped. It emptied his mind—and it also filled his lungs with the smell of wet grass and dirt. And although he still turned around to check behind his back every few minutes in search for furry snouts—one of the habits he had developed in the past life he had been forced to leave behind—, it was getting better, and the music in his ear pods seemed to be starting to do the trick.

Sometime later, when he got back to the Base, he was somewhat ready to be a Rainbow operator once again. At least for that day.

The truth was, he had somehow grown almost detached from anything and anyone Rainbow. He would do something, and then he’d mentally compare it to how he did it before. The way his morning coffee would taste; the way her laundry detergent would smell fresh and somehow cozy; how peaceful car trips would feel, almost as though he could lose himself into one of them for the rest of his life. Now his coffee was just Marius’s boring blend, and the detergent they used in the laundry at the base had no scent. And when he did end up tagging along on short weekend trips, there was no dog whining ecstatically in the back of the car and trying to lick his neck.

“How was your run?”

Monika was looking at him from above the file she was reading—a mission report, a test session report, he didn’t know and he also found himself not caring. That life still felt alien to him.

He shrugged. “Good.” He had somehow become a man of few words, and he had also started to realize that maybe undercover missions weren’t for him. Not anymore, at least. Maybe he had let this one get to him a bit too much, and everyone he had met had grown under his skin without him wanting so and he still did somehow feel like he had betrayed his family, sent them all to jail.

It was a stupid thought—he tried to remind himself of that every time that feeling came up, but maybe he just wasn’t cut for long undercover missions anymore. He didn’t remember when it had become difficult to tell right from wrong, but it had happened, and every time his mind stopped on that period of his life, he found himself growing homesick for a home he never had, not there.

“Just good?”

Elias was there, too. Of fucking course, he would be there. He had been keeping an eye on him for a few weeks now, and Dominic was too much of an expert not to notice. It hadn’t been a surprise to see him enter the kitchen a minute or two after he had.

“Just good,” he nodded

There was some staring, then. Dominic stared at Elias because he wanted to be left alone, and Elias stared at Dominic because he wanted to understand what the problem was, so that he could help his friend. It was all useless, though, and they both knew it: one had closed off too securely to let on anything—or let anyone in, and the other was too stubborn to just stop caring about someone he loved.

That afternoon, though, he was running some errands in town with Marius when a dog stopped right in front of him to sniff his pants. It was a lovely animal, with fur of an almost bronze-red color and a tail that never once stopped wagging.

It brought him back in time, and for a moment he stood there, frozen and rooted to the spot. He could almost still feel the rain on his skin despite that exceptionally bright sunny day. But then, the Irish setter’s owner called Bonnie, let’s go! and Dominic was back to the present day, a bag with stuff he had bought at the hardware store just on the other side of the parking lot in one hand and a bunch of keys in the other.

“Everything alright with you?” Marius asked when Dominic reached him. He had been waiting for him, leaning against the door of the truck, and he hadn’t missed the way his friend had grown rigid. It didn’t matter how much pride Dom felt at the idea of being good at hiding feelings: there was always someone that saw right through his shit. And called him out on it.

“I used to have two dogs,” he blurted out with a smile on his face before he could stop himself. They were both loading bags into the trunk of the car and he hadn’t even felt the words slip through his lips that they were already out there in the open. But the memory had hit him with the same force of a freight train, and he had found himself basking in that warm feeling that had started to blossom inside him at the memory. After all, he loved those two pests like his own kids.

He looked up, the feeling of being caught red-handed quickly seeping in, and he found that Marius had a weird look in his eyes as he watched his every move.

“You had two dogs?” his friend quoted, one hand reaching up for the back door of the car. He closed it shut, and the frown didn’t leave his face for a second. “Back during your mission, you mean?”

“Forget about it. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.” It had always been custom for him to not open up about his undercovers—the person he was when he was on one wasn’t the person he was when he came back to his real life, and that’s how things had to be.

“To hell with your bullshit!”

The first five minutes in the car, however, were spent in silence.

Dominic was still cursing himself mentally for opening his damn mouth—or his memory vault, for what it mattered. It had been the first time he had mentioned anything about her since his return—his return home his friends had cheered him with six months ago, but that homely feeling still had to make an appearance. She had become taboo, and he had done so to protect her—and himself, in a way, for not having to bring her up had seemed to be the most sensible way to forget all about her, at least back then.

But now here he was, catching himself just in time before worsening his case.

“Where are those dogs now?” Marius used the excuse of a red streetlight to speak again and when Dominic looked at him from the corner of his eye, he found his friend already staring.

A shrug of his shoulders will do the trick, or that was what he hoped. Unsuccessfully.

“You’ve barely put full sentences together outside of missions since you came back from Germany. And now you mention two dogs. That you owned, apparently.”

“I didn’t own them, they weren’t mine,” he corrected.

“Whose were they, then?”

The first time Dominic sees her is on a chilly early-April morning. It’s pouring rain outside, and she’s walking two dogs with nothing to shield her from the rain but an old sweatshirt.

It’s half past five in the morning and his first thought is: What the fuck is this girl doing out here in the rain?

He almost slows down his truck when he drives past her. Probably he should be a good person and ask her if she needs a ride, but this side of town is new to him and he doesn’t want to risk anything that would have Fabian put him on his boss’ black book the month after having been fully accepted into the gang.

She’s in his rearview mirror before he has the chance to think his civilized deed through. He finds himself staring for two seconds at most—red sweatshirt, jean shorts that are a tad bit out of season now, and two happy dogs that walk on either side of her without the need for a leash. Then, he’s pulling over and stopping the truck right before the closed garage door of his new two-bedroom house. He still has to fix it—along with other things inside—but Christian has been keeping him busy with errands and whatnot, and he’s lacked the time.

He’s barely out of the vehicle when there’s barking—short, quick barks in succession coming from two different dogs, defying the sound of the rain and the otherwise silence of the early morning. When he turns around, the girl’s dogs are running across the empty street, their owner right behind them, and they’re aiming at him, tails wagging happily and tongues lolling out from open mouths.

They don’t jump up as he expected them to, but they still do take their few seconds of freedom to sniff him up. His shoes, his legs, a hand—and all the while he’s getting soaked through just as much as the girl running over with two leashes in a hand is.

“Hey, buddy,” he coos, almost involuntarily, as he presents the bigger dog with the open palm of his left hand.

It looks like a nice mutt, the fur a shade of brown streaked with white and black, and it excitedly licks his skin after a moment of indecision.

“I’m so sorry.” When he looks up, the young woman is panting, a hand on her side as the other comes up to wipe the rain from her eyes. “C’mon, Otto, come here.”

The white dog with a chocolate-colored stain on the left side of his face is quickly put on his leash, and he sits still by his owner’s feet as she pries Rex from his hand.

“I’m sorry they’ve bothered you,” she offers, and then groans when she can’t seem to attach the leash to the ring in the dog’s collar. “They’re usually well-behaved.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

Rex lunges forward one last time to get a good-bye caress on his head before he eventually chooses to behave and steps back.

“They didn’t do anything but smell me up a bit, it’s all cool.”

She smiles. He smiles. Rex barks happily and turns back to nudge Otto, and both their tails are wild whips against the soaked grass-less ground of his short driveway. Then, she’s gone.

He stares as she runs down the street, thunder finally rolling up high in the steely sky, and he smiles when he hears her laugh and call for the dogs when the rain starts pouring stronger. Then he turns, walks around the back of his truck and up to his door, and leaves the world outside.

That night Dominic sat at the desk in his room. His things had been relocated to a smaller one while he had been away on his mission and although he would have probably complained once, he found that this new accommodation somehow suited him better now. It felt much more secluded and since it was in the newly-built dorm area where his buddies didn’t reside, it felt much calmer. It didn’t give him much need to lie.

And it didn’t give his friends the chance to see that most of his stuff was still in cardboard boxes he had yet to unpack. The mere thought seemed to overwhelm him somehow and even that night, all he did was stare at them for endless minutes before eventually begrudgingly opening his laptop.

The brief and vague chat with Marius that afternoon had given him that sort of push he needed to finally pull out the hard disks and SD cards he had hidden away but that still contained all the files he had to organize. It was nothing major, of course—that kind of stuff had been transferred onto Rainbow servers the moment he had set foot onto British ground, one could say. But he still had private stuff, videos and photographs he had never thought he’d one day keep, back when he had first taken them, but then again, here he was.

Part of his brain did know that wasn’t the smart thing to do, but when he plugged in the black hard disk with that owl sticker she had slapped on it one night after tipsy sex, he found that his hand hesitated on the mouse.

He had chuckled—even now, he could still hear the sound in the otherwise quiet room. It had been at the beginning of that thing that had slowly—and then more and more quickly, like an avalanche effect of some sort—turned into a relationship. Why? he had simply asked, putting his lighter back on the nightstand when she gave it a disgusted look. And she had laughed, too, and he had stared at her sweaty skin glistening in the light of his bedside lamp, at the way her messy bangs stuck to her forehead, and he thought that fuck, what the fuck was he doing? Because I felt like it, she had answered with a shrug and he had laughed deep in his chest before pulling her back over his body.

Maybe he could keep what was in there. He did not have to look, but maybe he’d keep those files stored away in some folder-in-a-folder kind of thing, hidden away from his eyes and hopefully from his mind, until he’d forget all about them. Until he’d stop being a spineless dick, murmured a mean voice in the back of his head.

“Fuck it!” he groaned, finally opening the main folder and watching as his old laptop loaded everything.

There were some pictures he had never stored away in their respective folders, and he suddenly remembered now that it was because he loved them. Loved those two dogs piled up on each other as they slept in his armchair. And loved the way she’d scream song lyrics using an almost-empty beer bottle as a microphone.

Those were memories—and damn good memories at that! There was no reason to shy away from them. Just as a reminder, he reasoned—something to keep for a long time so that it could remind him to keep his head on his shoulders next time he’d be assigned on some other undercover mission. Something that could tell him not to fall for a chick he’d eventually have to leave behind forever. Something that could prove to him that yes, he could enjoy things while living a lie, but that no, there were things he could not bring back home.

Like Rex and Otto.

Or like Y/N.

He meets her again two weeks later, when Fabian drags him along to a club to have fun and maybe get some pussy. Dominic’s not exactly in the mood for pussy for once, still exhausted after having come back from a quick ‘business trip’ to Austria with two other guys, but he doesn’t want to be the buzzkill. He’s also not been in the city long enough, so he’d rather fly low and not risk making even the slightest doubt arise.

So he goes. He dresses up in an all-black combo of pants and shirt, and meets his friend outside one of the clubs Christian owns. The air is warm, and the night traffic buzzes behind his back as Fabian leads him all the way up to the entrance while recounting the weird-ass trip Alex had the first time he did acid. Domi laughs along in all the right points and for a split second, before Julian lets them in without a question, he finds himself thinking that it isn’t so hard after all, to pretend to be someone he’s not every time Fabian’s around. The dude is chill, five or so years younger than he but just as crazy, and there’s this tiny voice in Dominic’s head that seems to whisper to him that they could actually be great pals if the situation and the setting were different.

“What’s your poison?” his friend of sorts asks as he takes him through the place and then to a table—not right up under the stage, but a bit in the back.

“Just beer,” is his reply. He didn’t think he’d be seeing girls perform when he left his house, but now that he’s here and he gets a glimpse of a redhead beauty before she disappears offstage, he’s not exactly opposed.

Fabian’s face is contorted into a grimace of confusion before it opens up into a grin as things seem to clear up in his head. “Oh, yeah, as a warm-up, I see!”

He laughs, leaning back against the seat before he shakes his head. “One of us gotta stay sober enough to take you home when you’re shit-faced,” he bites back, subtly implying to that one time, three months after Dom had officially become a rookie, when Fabian had ridden himself into a tree on his bike. The others had made him look after and take care of the younger idiot, and he had had to swallow down his pride and cater to any and all silly needs he had been presented with and that had felt like a setback in his undercover path.

A girl hurries by then, a serving platter with drinks in hand as she flags down another waitress and mouths something over the music of the new performance, and Fabian is quick at grabbing a hold of her forearm. When she turns around, an expression on her face that makes it clear she would be more than ready to throw hands, it takes Dominic half a minute to recognize her in this new setting.

“Come back to us later, Baby,” Fabian says, his hand moving to swat at her ass before she grabs a hold of it and presses down hard enough to make him wince.

“Don’t make me kick your ass.”

Dominic turns around when she walks past him and watches as she serves drinks at a table. She’s all smiles as she replies back to something she’s being told, and steps back a little when one of the men tries to stretch a hand out and touch her.

“Is that how you act with women?” he asks when he turns back around.

His friend laughs over a text he’s sending—probably to one of the other guys they’re supposed to meet here tonight, or probably to someone else entirely—Dominic does wonder about it, just as he wonders about many things when it comes to the Club, but he voices none of his thoughts. He never does.

“It’s not what you think,” he shrugs, grinning at him before glancing at the brunette performing on stage. He stares for a long while, and Dominic has the time to study some more of the details in the snake tattoo that crawls up the side of his neck and disappears into his hair. “She’s a friend.”

“She’s still not excited about you slapping her butt, though,” the girl in question chimes in when she finally reaches their table again, her serving platter now held securely against her abdomen. “But Fabian’s— Hey!” she grins, stopping mid-sentence when she seems to recognize him from that rainy early morning of fifteen or so days ago. “You’re the new guy on the block.”

“You know each other?”

“Sorta. The boys ran up to him when we were on a walk a few days ago,” she nods, eyes trailing down to where Domi’s left the first two buttons of his shirt undone, tattoos on full display underneath, before moving back to meet his.

Fabian’s pout distracts the both of them, and when she sets her eyes on him, he’s quick at letting out a childish complaint. “You never smile at me like that.”

“Don’t be a douche.” And then, to Dominic: “I’ll pay you real money if you drag him out of here.”

“Geez, women!” Fabian scoffs. “Anyway. Nic, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Dominic.” He watches briefly as they shake hands before continuing. “She’s off-limits, unless she’ll somehow consider you worthy enough of her and her p— I’m just kidding, Angel!” he pleads, leaning away from her hand as she slaps at his shoulder. “C’mon, be a good girl.”

“You be a good boy and I might not spit in your drink.”

Dominic’s still thinking about her sometime later, after some of the guys have joined him and his company for tonight. They’re watching girls perform, but he’s unfocused. Even the beer in his hand has been forgotten for a while now, as his gaze finds itself being attracted back to the bar—or to wherever she is at the moment.

He stares, and even blatantly so, half listening to Fabian’s words echoing in his mind, and half ignoring them. She’s close to Christian, that’s what he knows: she used to be his sister’s best friend before the girl passed away a few years after finishing high school. And, as Fabian has half-heartedly complained more than once, she’s not that friendly with gang members—if you know what I mean, Nic. Not that he’s thinking about that with her! He barely even knows her. What he does know, however, is that there’s a file, back at Rainbow, that he has to fill with pieces of information he finds out here, and he’s starting to wonder what she could know.

And sometimes—every once in a while and almost covertly—she glances back and meets his eye, and when she finds him staring, she seems to stumble over her words for a heartbeat before the smile is back on her face and she turns her attention back to whatever patron she’s tending to.

He’s back the next Friday night, and the week after that, and on the third week, it starts becoming a habit. Fabian’s with him sometimes; sometimes it’s someone else, but more often—because he starts hanging out at the club on whatever free nights he has during the week—he goes on his own. He drinks, spends money on women, and goes as far as paying for personal dances—and maybe it becomes a bit too often, because one day Christian asks him—through Alex, because Christian’s too busy with a rival gang to do it in person—and mentions something about it.

But the more he sits in there, the closer he somehow seems to get to Y/N—and the closer she seems to get to him. It’s just smiles at first; even when he goes up to the bar to order drinks, she’s always too busy to focus on him only. But then they start exchanging a few words—and in the meantime they wave at each other from opposite sides of the road they live on, when they pass by—and then a few puns, until at some point, probably three, almost four months into his habitual trips to the club, she starts actively seeking him out. And if by any chance he’s absent on one of his regular nights, he finds her politely asking whether everything’s alright on the first night he’s back.

He missed that—missed his club nights and the dancers, even the waitresses. Y/N, of course, although he always did his best not to allow his brain to bring her up. But sometimes, out of the blue, the most random things would make one of the many memories he had stored away out of sight resurface and he found himself thinking about her. It would start subconsciously—with something someone said or did, or maybe it was something he saw in the window of a shop, or in one of the girls he’d find himself dancing with when his friends dragged him along. And then, when he caught himself red-handed, it was hard to stop. His brain would fixate on a memory and the more he willed himself to shift the focus of his attention onto something—anything—else, the harder it was to actually do it.

So, he turned his strategy around. He did that when he transferred all his secreted files onto his laptop—and then onto a new one yet again, when the old thing slowed down too much for him to be able to do work-related things on it. The reasoning was, if he kept those memories where he could easily reach them, then maybe they’d lose that hue of exceptionality and he’d get so used to them that it would finally be easier to coexist with them and all they had once meant.

And the next time Marius asked, tried to pull things out of him the same way he’d done with shards of glass after that one assignment in Bosnia, Dominic found himself loosening up. With him only, no one else for the time being, but it still felt liberating. Marius would listen, and he wouldn’t try to guilt-trip him the same way Domi had done to himself. He’d listen, and chime in every now and then, and then he’d stop asking when it was clear his friend wasn’t comfortable with continuing for now.

Y/N hadn’t come up yet. He told him about the dogs, and the guys—about Fabian most of all, and Markus, the two he had bonded with the most. He talked about the club—and he won’t lie, about the women there and the ones he had ended up in bed or against a wall with, as well. Not many, but enough to make Marius tease him for a while before he eventually relented.

But then one day, when most operators had been sent off on various missions, they decided to go on a trip. They took a Jeep car, loaded it with backpacks and food and tents, and took off for a week to spend camping far from the Base.

It had been quite a long couple of months—with training and simulations and tests, and even weeks spent abroad. And meetings in Harry’s office so that the Agency could see where Dominic’s loyalty lied, and how he was doing, how he was settling back into his old routine, now almost ten months after having come back from Germany. Which he… was, in a way. Settling back into his old routine, that is—everything was normal when he was working, at least.

But opening up to his Director wasn’t the same as opening up to his friend. And probably even Harry knew, or had at least come to that conclusion, for he had relented in his questions and had given him more free time, away from his Rainbow responsibilities.

“So, you were telling me about Fabian the other day.”

Marius’s voice shook him out of his thoughts, and Dominic found himself blinking a couple of times at the pale light of the sun that still had to fully rise. He felt almost as though he had dozed off, his tongue still heavy and laced with the slumber he had been forced to wake up from at two.

“What?” he mumbled, fumbling with his seat belt when he realized his friend had parked the car and it was now time to get out.

He had been sleeping poorly the past few days, with endless thoughts incessantly mulling around in his mind and keeping him awake. Stuff about Germany, but also stuff about Rainbow—missions and briefings and that upgrade he was helping Elias come up with for his shield. It all slowed him down, left him less reactive than he had been in a while, always dozing off when he was supposed to do something else. Even his morning runs had stopped being that nice a distraction.

The cup of coffee Marius pushed into his hands was hot, almost comforting in a way, and it sent a shiver throughout his whole body as they stood there, in the low, late-March temperatures. It was supposed to get warmer as the day progressed, or so the forecasts seemed to promise, and he surely found himself hoping for that to be the case.

“You were saying about how Fabian introduced you to this Angel dude,” Jäger insisted sometime later, when they had heaved their backpacks on their backs and locked the Jeep. They’d be back in a week—or that was the plan, but they both knew that if the weather would take a turn for the worst, they’d be back much sooner, neither of them willing to deal with storms and cold temperatures when they could feel warm somewhere else.

“Angel’s not a dude,” was Dominic’s chuckle.

The sun had finally risen and its light, although still pale, filtered in through the foliage of the forest, casting shapes on the ground and on their faces alike. The temperatures had gone up a bit, but Dom was still glad he had listened to Lera’s advice and had taken off with thermal clothes on.

“Angel is— was,” he quickly corrected himself, casting a quick glance at Marius, walking by his side, “my girlfriend… I guess.”

“You guess?” His friend frowned, not even taking his eyes off of the path they were currently trekking on. They still had quite a few kilometers to go before their next stop and he had absolutely no intention of spending them in silence, not now that Dominic seemed like he had slowly regained his ability to talk and let his tongue loose, although not in everyone’s company. But progress was progress, and he didn’t want to risk and ruin it.

Dominic shrugged. “I’m not sure Y/N and I ever officially defined the relationship.”

“Y/N… Angel, you mean?”

“Yeah, we called her that most of the time. Those dogs I told you about… they were hers.”

Marius nodded. Dominic had started to introduce him to bits and pieces of his undercover life—the clubs, the gang, the dogs, the speed races at night, the way Fabian would often crash on his couch when his partying got too wild and out-of-hand, or the way Markus, three years his junior, would often trail behind him like a lost puppy. It was never a chronological recollection of events, with some kind of thread that would link them together. Sometimes he’d ask questions, making sure to remain as vague as possible when it came to enquiring about someone’s life, and Domi would reply with what came to mind.

But now… Now he had slowly started to piece all those memories together, bit by bit, and he was seeing that it was not all black and white, the way some back at the Organization would make it out to be, but more like grayscale. The good and the bad would mix together in the same bowl, and it would make it hard for anybody to draw absolutes.

“Tell me something about her.”

Dominic’s sitting in Christian’s backyard for the first time in two years and a half. It’s something new, but at the same time it feels so familiar, in a weird and convoluted way, as he’s surrounded by people he knew nothing about just three years ago. He laughs at what his friends say, and even whistles with them when the girl Fabian has shown up with leaves in a hurry after printing the fingers of her left hand across his cheek.

“You truly can’t keep them for more than a week, can you?” Christian laughs, taking a sip from his beer as he and Marcel flip the meat on the barbeque.

Fabian groans. “Always pointing out the details, gee. Anyway!”

Some bickering ensues, and Dominic sits back against the seat of his plastic chair with the rim of his beer bottle grazing his lower lip, barely containing his laughter, but still trying his best because he’s usually the one taking Fabian’s sides—even if just out of pure sarcasm. It all only settles when Franziska walks out of the house, a bowl of salad in each hand, saying something about leaving the poor child alone, what are you? Five? before Marcel pulls her into his side for a kiss.

They’re cute—it’s a weird and intrusive thought as Dominic watches, eyes glinting with a badly concealed smile, but it’s also the truth. Franziska and Marcel are like opposite sides of the same coin, but they somehow fit so well together… He’d tell Marius that, years after that day, and he’d recall the way she’d look up into her lover’s eyes with such emotion that, before Y/N came along, it would have made him feel the pangs of jealousy stab his stomach.

“Ugh, lovebirds.” Markus rolls his eyes, and when Dominic turns his head to look at him, he adds a snort and a wave of his hand.

“Kids.” Marcel shakes his head at Domi, almost as though he knows just how Markus and Fabian can get, and Dominic’s the one who’s spending the most time with them. “Always moaning about what they don’t have.”

But no one’s that serious. They all sort of envy what Marcel has, but they cherish it most of all, and although there’s often some playful mocking during gatherings, Marcel still knows they’d all jump in front of his woman without batting an eyelash if that meant keeping her safe.

There’s commotion coming from inside the house, then. The old dog that had been snoozing by Christian’s feet lifts her head, barking low in the back of her throat, still sleepy, before two dogs dash outside and she’s suddenly chasing them on her three paws, long fluffy tail wagging.

The guys cheer the new-comers and although the white one—it takes Dom a while to recognize Otto, Angel’s dog—jumps and huffs to play with Christian’s Stella, the loud and cheering voices send the other one in a frenzy. Rex runs back and forth, tail wagging as hard as a whip, tongue two meters out of his snout. And it’s such a hilarious sight that it sends Dominic laughing with his other friends as the dog almost trips Eva and that jar of cold lemonade over.

Then, when Dominic’s regained enough breath to stop the wheezing and wipe the tears from his eyes with a hand, he calls him over. “Hey, Rex! C’mere!”

He has no time to see the surprise flash across his friends’ faces, for it’s all downhill from there. Rex stops dead in his tracks, front paws down on the grass to his elbows and butt up in the air, his tail still wagging wildly—and really, he doesn’t know how he hasn’t sprained it yet, or how he hasn’t taken off like in some cartoon. His head turns here and there for half a second before his caramel eyes zero in on him. Before Dominic has the time to beg Stop!, the dog is on him: The impact sends his empty beer bottle flying backward as the chair tips back, a leg snaps, and he’s suddenly half-laying, half-sitting almost horizontally with an ecstatic Rex licking his face and his beard, barely able to keep still in his arms.

The other two dogs are quick to join them, and before Dominic can turn his head to the side and see the way Christian kisses Y/N’s cheek hello or hear the way she groans out a fuck! before she can intervene, two more wet snouts blind and sniff at him.

Sometime later, as Markus is complaining under his breath about the ladies’ ‘rabbit food’, Dominic turns towards Fabian and half-says, half-asks: “I thought she didn’t do members.”

“Huh?” Fabian looks up from where he’s stuffing his face with pork ribs and Franziska’s salad, moaning for a second about how much I love fucking onions, God. But he’s quick at looking where Domi’s quick tilt of the head is pointing.

Y/N and Christian are sitting next to each other, heads close as they discuss something before she feels them staring and sends them a quick smile.

“Oh, no. No.” Fabian coughs as he tries not to choke on his food when he picks up with what Dom’s implying—Jeez, no, shit, Angel and Christian? He laughs, still breathless, and chugs down the glass of lemonade Verena’s poured him. “Nah, she’s like a sister to him. Same for her. It was hard for a while after Mia’s death. The gang…” But he shrugs, cuts himself off and trails his gaze back down on his plate. “It was rough. And they’ve grown real close, but there’s nothing more than fraternal love between them.”

Dominic nods. “Oh, okay.”

He’s thinking nothing of her—or is he? They’ve been hanging out quite a bit these past few weeks. He’s been over at her house for a leaking sink just last Saturday afternoon, and she’s made him stay longer so that they could eat dinner together, watch the wrestling match on TV. He’s not… into her like that, he thinks—yet. Because, really, he wouldn’t mind being.

“Why?” There’s a suggestive smirk growing on his friend’s face. “You thinking of—”

But he’s cut off when Christian calls Dominic and steals his attention. No one discusses business during this kind of gatherings, but there’s a look on the man and his right hand, Marcel’s faces that just makes him think he’ll be hearing from them not long after going back home that night. He’s already made great progress on his undercover assignment, but this truly does start feeling like a step in the right direction.

When the party’s over, that night after dinner, he ends up sitting in Y/N’s car as she takes both of them home. Her dogs would be all up in his neck if it weren’t for the shield provided by the passenger’s seat, and she’s apologizing—although with a grin on her face and a tone that doesn’t make her apology come out that sincere—about their behavior.

“I just don’t understand why they like you so much,” she muses. “Rex most of all.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t even know I was that good with dogs before these two.”

Years later, he’d tell Marius Streicher how pretty she looked, with her make-up slightly smudged and the hair locks that had escaped her now messy bun. How accessible she felt—and not even in a bad way, but more like, he could reach a hand out and poke her cheek with his fingertips, or trail his index along her hairline, down the curve of her ear and touch her piercings, or even just lean back against his seat and just, look at her. How peaceful the interior of her car felt.

He’d tell Marius how Rainbow didn’t exist back then. How it was just him and the wrong waitress he had started falling for. And at the same time, how he still had this thought in the back of his mind, constantly nagging him—what if he ended up blowing up his mission in smoke?

“You’re staring,” she’s saying, smiling, eyes still on the road ahead.

“And you’re blushing.”

If there’s one thing he’s learned about her during his countless nights at the same stupid club, then it’s that she doesn’t blush. Not when his eyes are glued to her. He has stared at her much more lewdly than he’s doing now, most of all with a few drinks too many in his stomach and in his system.

She shrugs, and when she stops the car and Dominic turns back around, he notices they’ve arrived at her house. “You should come in,” she says instead, already getting out of the car and opening the back door to let the dogs out. “You don’t have to,” she adds quickly when he gets out, too. And he can’t see her face now that she’s unlocking her entrance door, but he knows she’s still blushing. “Only if you want.”

He wouldn’t tell Marius how her lips felt against his, nor how the drinks they had in her kitchen tasted when her tongue brushed against his. How she felt in his lap, one of her hands on the back of his head and the other up his shirt, against his tattooed chest. How she ground her hips down against him just right and tore a grunt from deep inside his belly and that vibrated against her lips, making her smile.

He’d tell none of that, but his friend would still understand.

What he did tell Marius, however, as they laid under the starry sky, was that, somehow, no one had felt like her again. Not his random hook-ups, the ones he was guilty of picking either because he needed a distraction or because they reminded him of Angel, and not even Katie, that kindergarten teacher Seamus had introduced to him and with whom he had hung out for a month or so. Nothing serious, and he hadn’t even exactly put effort into it, but a part of him still had tried. More for Seamus’—or even just Katie’s—sake than his own.

It was exactly Katie that Marius brought up with a yawn. And when he asked what had been wrong with her—or, well, maybe not wrong per se but more, I don’t know, brother… Amiss?—Dominic had found himself scoffing.

Katie’s not her—but he didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t say how he had fallen for the way Y/N fought in the ring, how she grimaced or grinned, the way her braids would slap against a cheek or a shoulder when her movements would be too abrupt. He’d go to her after the fights, and sometimes still sweaty and bruised, she’d straight up fuck the living sanity out of him—a hand around his throat and the other on his chest to keep her balance as they went at it on either his or her couch.

“Katie was…” He thought it over, fighting with his words and his brain’s ability to pick the right one. “Too nice.”

Y/N hadn’t been just black or just white—she was a whole spectrum of grays, ranging from one end to the other of it. Soft and kind on any day; but then also fearless and strong when she needed to be, ready to raise hell and fight God when she had to.

Dominic would have never been able to picture Katie on a ring, taking blows and also giving them back, because that wasn’t who Katie was. And although there was absolutely nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with being who you are, it just… wasn’t the same. He never found himself with his wrists tied to the headboard of Katie’s bed, with a blindfold over his eyes, almost holding his breath to see—feel—where she’d touch him next. Or how. Or even with what.

And probably that was why he couldn’t take Angel out of his mind—because he knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t be able to have her again. That she was gone, lost in a chapter of his life that he had reached the end of, and that he had left in the past. And although he did often go back to reread it, that was exactly all he could do—read, but never change a word of it.

“You still have time to add something more, though.”

He had almost dozed off to sleep, the exhaustion and exertion of that day’s worth of hiking catching up with him and his tired limbs. And it was only when Marius uttered those words that he realized he had spoken that inner monologue out loud into the darkness of the night.

The stars were blinking down at him, almost winking at his powerlessness in that situation. He wasn’t scared that she might cut his balls off and feed them to the wolves; nor that she might pull her hair back into two braids and teach him a lesson or two.

What stopped him from working was the very last voicemail she had left him, when she had called his German number for the last time. He had seen her cry—cry with laughter at some stupid joke, or sob her lungs out that one time they watched Marley and Me together, the mere idea of one day losing her dogs tearing her up from the inside out. But the way she had breathed into the phone, trying to hold back the sobs, and the way her voice had broken on every other syllable—Please, Domi, pick up. I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know you’re not with the others—it still wrecked him.

He had listened to it so many times that not only did he know every word by heart, but he could hear her voice—the way it cracked, when she’d sob, when Otto would whine in the background. And what was worse, was that he could see her with his mind’s eye—sitting in the empty tub, or on one of the stools in the kitchen, or even behind the wheel of her car. So strong and resolute… crumbling apart because all he had had to offer was a lie.

Or maybe not all—he had been honest with her. Honest the first time he had told her he loved her, and honest the last time he had professed his love. That hadn’t been a lie. The way he’d hold her at night, when she’d sleep with her head on his chest, or the way he had always been ready to pounce on way-too-daring customers at the club, or when he told her she was the light of his life—none of that had been a lie.

But everything surrounding that? His loyalty to the gang? To the guys? To Christian? His made-up past before he settled down in the city? The real reason he’d sometimes love to go on solo trips and enjoy some peace, when he was in fact meeting up with people from his real life?

“I had my chance,” he decided to say instead, closing his eyes against the night sky. He’d been out stargazing with her, once, the first time they had fucked. It had been sweet and peaceful, until it had turned hotter and messier and sweatier. If he stared up at those stars one minute longer, he knew it, he’d be back on that field, with her trapped between him and the plaid blanket, clothes strewn haphazardly all around. And that was the last thing he needed. “And I wasted it.”

He didn’t say how he wasted it by coming back, but the implicature was still out there, heavy and acrid in the otherwise fresh air of the mountains.

But there had been no backing out of it. Rainbow would have come; something would have been done anyway. At some point in his staying, things had moved too forward before his heart had been able to pick a side, and there had been nothing else he could do. He had broken her heart, but he had also broken his own, and that had been inevitable. A fate he had had zero chances escaping. They had found each other too late, and he’d probably die regretting anything about that case.

There was absolutely no going back there, but he had also started to think that his future didn’t lay in Rainbow anymore, either. It had become too much—and also too little, all at the same time. Gang life surely wasn’t for him, but he was starting to realize that his last undercover mission had ended up messing up with him a bit too much, and although it didn’t exactly interfere with the way he acted in Rainbow, it did with the vision he had of it—and of himself as part of it.

“I think I need a break from this,” he muttered into the night, eyes closed both out of tiredness and that lingering sort of embarrassment he felt any time he addressed how inadequate he now felt. “It’s almost been a year and I still haven’t been able to stop long enough to think.”

He didn’t know if Marius had turned to glance at him in the semi-darkness, before they turned off their torches to sleep, but he knew he had heard.

“What Angel? You’re a little minx,” Dominic chuckles, still out of breath, his chest burning with exhaustion every time it rises and falls. His sweaty back sticks to the leather seats of the car, and he knows the sensation she must be feeling can’t be much different.

But he doesn’t turn to look at her. His gaze is glued to her lace panties, hanging from the gear shift in the front. If he didn’t feel too boneless to lean forward and take her phone from the passenger’s seat, he’d for sure take a picture.

“Who are you calling little?” Her laugh is breathless, and when she moves around like a contortionist to sit up straight, her lips brush against the side of his neck, making his skin break out in gooseflesh and the short hair on the nape of his head tug. “I’m still taller than you with my heels on.”

Laughter rumbles deep in his chest, and he lets her pull his head back when she tugs on his hair with a hand. “Details, pretty doll.”

She doesn’t remind him how she’s kicked his butt just a couple of weeks ago during training and part of him is happy because all they’ve been using that accident as is some sort of foreplay that always ends up with her straddling him, making him tremble with the unexpected touches his blindfold always seems to heighten.

When her finger traces the underside of his cock, however, that chuckle dies on his lips and he gasps almost inaudibly in the back of his throat. Suddenly, his suit pants pulled down to mid-thigh feel constricting and he knows that if she keeps it up, he’ll be hard again soon.

“Don’t.” He didn’t intend for it to come out that way, but his prayer is soft on her lips, when she turns his head to the side to stare into his eyes. “We’re running late for the party.”

She shrugs—and he thinks that fuck, if this car didn’t feel this cramped, he’d fuck her brains out, party or no party, not even when it comes to his boss. “You made me come twice,” she replies, matter-of-factly, not at all moved by his begging or by his breath hitching in the back of his throat when her fingers move down to his balls. “I think it’s just fair I pay back the favor, no?”

His chest and neck are still flushed when he walks into the villa Christian has rented out for his New Year’s party. The initial surprise of Y/N caving in for a member has quickly subsided, and no one whistles in their direction when they see them walk in hand in hand.

They greet their friends, exchange quick hugs, and before long, they’re all drinking and chatting.

“You were late,” Christian says. The expression on his face is serious, but the left corner of his mouth is slowly twitching up into a smirk he manages to hide when he tips his head back and downs his shot.

Dominic shrugs, gaze wandering back to where Angel is catching up with Franziska and Verena, one leg crossed over the other, left bare by the slit in her dress. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, trying not to think about how her panties are still hanging from the gear shift of the car. “We had a setback.” He hesitates on that last word, for he tries to come up with something that could at least sound unassuming, but by God, the crotch of his pants feels like it’s growing tighter and he just knows kissing her won’t be the only thing he’ll be doing when the clock strikes midnight.

Christian laughs. “If my car smells like sex—”

“We rolled the windows down. We’re not animals,” he replies with a snort.

“Just… get it cleaned before you give it back.”

Y/N glances back at them then, eyes twinkling and lips still kiss-swollen and bruised under the lipstick she reapplied before getting out of the car, he’s sure. But before she can call him to her or he can walk up to her a bit stiffly of his own accord, Christian speaks again.

“We still have some time before dinner. There’s a meeting in the other room. Marcel has news on that seemingly lost package.”

Dominic turns around, brows furrowed in confusion, before his brain manages to quickly piece everything back together and he follows the other man down a corridor and into another room. He’s almost forgotten about the new cargo coming in—it’s been a feat lately, to remember he’s not actually one of them but an undercover agent trying to blow a gang up. It’s harder and harder, and he knows the lines aren’t blurred—not yet, at least—but it’s become way too easy, to lose himself in his new friendships and in the unexpected love he’s found here.

But when reality strikes back, it’s hard to distract his mind again.

Anton’s there—and while he isn’t the boss, he’s high up enough to be one of Rainbow’s main concerns. The oldest in the group, he’s rarely there, he rarely shows up. He does work behind the scenes, but that’s where he’d rather stay—away from the kids’ stupidity, or that’s how he always jokes about it.

He’s tall and strong—a whole wardrobe of a man, but Dominic’s still been promoted to be his bodyguard and he can’t help but feel a pang of something deep in his brain, and there’s this unsolicited thought bubbling up that makes him feel all sorts of ways. Maybe someone’s had some suspicions about him, and this is all a test—or this is what he thinks before Anton moves the wrong way and he’s forced to explain that the reason for that agonized groan is the extent of the injuries he’s incurred into not too long ago.

But then they’re all back for dinner, and Dominic doesn’t have time to bask in that wave of relief washing over him when he figures out there’s nothing to fear. They eat and drink and play stupid semi-drunk games, until it’s half an hour to midnight and Y/N has dragged him into a bathroom and unbuckled his belt.

It’s quick and messy, and his fingertips dig hard into the flesh of her hips as they stare into each other’s eyes in the mirror.

“I was thinking,” she hums, wrapped tight around his arm as he walks back with her at five minutes to midnight—enough time to make her come once more, or maybe twice, but Alex has promised a great pyrotechnic show and neither of them wants to miss how he almost gets himself blown up like last year.

“My thoughts are still in that bathroom and you tell me you’re thinking?” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to her cheek before he gives her hand a squeeze, almost as though he’s telling her to just continue.

“You dork,” she laughs. “But yes, I was thinking. Why don’t you move in with me?” she asks. “You’re already there most of the time, and your house is always messy and your couch not comfortable enough for…” She shrugs, trying her best to hide her smirk. “Plus, I’d really love to have you there.”

He feigns thinking about it, but when she gasps in mock shock, he pulls her in for a kiss—and that is when their friends must see and whistle. “I’d never say no to that, Angel.”

Her smile is bright and in the moment, he doesn’t even realize he doesn’t have forever with her, although that’s what he’s come to crave for.

He didn’t know how he let Marius convince him to go back to Germany and see her. He really had no clue, just as he didn’t have a clue about many things—what he’d tell her, how she might react, what he’d do after. How he’d feel after—relieved? like he’s finally had some closure? and how would things be once back in Hereford?

There were a million and one thoughts in his mind as he sat there, on his hotel bed. Harry had offered to let the organization pay for it, but Dominic would have felt too bad if he had let him. This was personal, and there was no saying if his heart still lay within Rainbow schemes. He’d probably keep in touch; he’d probably always be available for anything, really, but the more time passed, the less he thought that was still the right place for him.

Düsseldorf was still buzzing with life despite the torrential rain when he walked out into the street. Y/N—he feared too many emotions and memories would resurface if he let himself think of her as Angel—had moved from the city three years after her lifetime friends had ended up in jail, sent behind bars by none other than her lover. They wouldn’t stay inside forever—he knew how these things worked, he didn’t live a delusion.

He had called her, the day before he had booked his flight. If there was one thing he owed her, it was at least that—let her know he’d be coming… if she wanted him to, that is. If she didn’t want to meet up, then so be it: he’d go on with his life the way he had done throughout the past year and try not to regret too much stuff he had been forced to do because of his job.

But when she had picked up the phone—he had called her old number with his old number—things had felt… well, not normal, of course—he had disappeared overnight without leaving a note or a text or a simple word that could let her know what the fuck had been going on during the past six years of his life—of their life. But she had picked up the phone and she hadn’t killed him through the device, and although she had remained silent for most of the call—and he had done the same, truly, not even knowing what he wanted to tell her, for the words just wouldn’t come—she had eventually agreed to meet up.

Not at her new house, although Harry had done some digging and knew where she lived—a nice apartment in a nice part of the city, but Dominic hadn’t wanted to know where, exactly, when his Director had offered to share the knowledge. She had picked a café, a nice and cozy place he had looked up on the internet, but still popular enough that the awkwardness of their date of sorts would be easily drowned out by the other patrons’ presence.

She was scrolling through her phone when he walked in and spotted her in the far left corner. It was secluded enough to guarantee them some privacy, but still not enough to cut them off from the rest of the world. He figured it was just perfect.

“Hey,” he greeted when he walked up to the table she had picked and he tried not to sigh when he noticed she had pulled her hair back into two braids.

She looked up at him—she didn’t glare the way he had expected her to, but she also didn’t smile. “Hey.”

He sat down, and they both stared at each other until a waiter came up and Y/N called for a coffee and an orange juice before glaring the guy away.

The awkwardness of it all quickly filled the space between them, and wrapped them up like a blanket, but it wasn’t just that. She was pissed, and angry, and probably murderous, but under all that he could still see the heartbreak in her eyes.

“Well, I’m here,” she said. “Say what you wanted to say. It’s the least I deserve, I think.”

Dominic opened his mouth to speak, but then the waiter came back and he closed it again as he watched their order being placed on the table. His cup of black coffee and her glass of juice seemed to put even more distance between them and he had to resist the impulse of passing a hand over his shaved head the way he did when he was nervous.

“I’m sorry,” was what he sighed, lowering his gaze first to the table and then back out of the window and the rain-washed street outside.

She leaned forward and took a sip from the straw before crossing her arms and sitting back against the cushioned back of the booth. “That’s it? You came all the way from wherever the fuck you’ve been hiding to just say I’m sorry? No explanation whatsoever?”

Another sigh, but before he could open his mouth to speak again, she cut him off.

“Was any of that real? Was there at least a crumb of truth? I opened up to you and you just—” Her voice trembled, but whether it was out of tears or pure anger, Dominic couldn’t tell.

“It was real.” He was quick at biting back, probably a bit too aggressively than he had any right to be. “It was real,” he repeated after a moment, voice much quieter and eyes boring into hers. “I did love you.”

“Love’s too big a word for the things you’ve done.”

“It was work,” he tried to reason. “I got sent here on an undercover mission—”

“I know that. I’ve been interrogated by the ones who didn’t go in. They suspected me. Because of you. Because I had been fucking the snitch for almost five years.”

He gaped at her for a moment before sighing in defeat. “I loved you,” but he didn’t say I still do, or You’re still on my mind day in and day out, and not even I still see your panties on the gear shift of Christian’s car. “That wasn’t fake, it wasn’t part of the mission. I told myself I wouldn’t fall for you, that it would mess things up, that it wasn’t fair to you. But I still did. Every I love you I said was real. Every single one of them.”

She was silent for a minute before she scoffed and shook her head. “You’re so full of shit, Dominic.”

It was different this time. She had told him that he was full of shit many a time, always laughing, always joking, but this time those words cut deep—deep enough to rob him of his breath for a moment.

“I trusted you,” she continued then, much quieter, voice barely audible above the sound of the music and of the other people chatting. “I thought you’d be my forever. How stupid I was…”

He looked down at his cup, his throat too knotted to even stomach the idea of drinking his coffee. “That makes two of us. I thought that I—”

“Don’t you even dare—”

“That I’d have more time,” he continued unrelenting, shaking his head with closed eyes for a second before opening them and staring at her again. “That I could buy more time. I kept on hoping I’d fuck up somehow, that things would go wrong and that I wouldn’t have to complete the mission. Or that I could have the time to make you hate me before it was all over.”

“Well, I do kinda hate you now.”

“Breaking your heart was never in my plans, though.” He almost moved his hand on the table to place it over hers, but a last-minute realization made him understand that that was most definitely the worst thing he could do at the moment. And not because she could snap his wrist easily, but because he had no right to. “I really did love you. I wanted to take you back with me. I tried to tell you.”

There was a spark of recognition in her eyes, then, and he knew what memory his words had brought back. The two of them relaxing in the bathtub, her back against his chest, her damp hair tickling his neck and cheek. Come away with me, he had told her, fingers trailing up and down her arms, making her shiver. Let’s go far away, where no one can find us.

“I didn’t want it to end,” he confessed. “Any of that.”

“You built everything on a lie, Dominic.” A scoff. “If that’s even your real name, that is.”

“It is.”

It seemed to take her off guard and erased the words she had been about to say.

“My name’s Dominic Brunsmeier, not Neumann. I work for an international unit of elite agents that fight terrorism. I was assigned on this mission because we were informed Anton was doing more than simply dealing drugs. I went undercover with a Hells Angels chapter in the past, so the GSG-9 called me back for this one,” he confessed, voice flat and almost professional. He would have never thought he’d one day be making such a speech out loud, but there he was, in a busy café, in front of the woman he still had the nerve to love but who didn’t love him back anymore. “And my love for you could’ve never been a lie.”

She nodded once and turned her head to the side and to the city outside. He was trying to gauge what she might be thinking, what might be going on inside her head. But she remained unreadable and distant. “They’d kill you if they knew you’re back,” she eventually said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, her chin still resting on the palm of her hand.

He shrugged. “I’ve been close to death too many times to be scared today. This past year…” He couldn’t tell her it had been rough; he didn’t think he had the right to when in her eyes he had gone back home. “I knew I had to see you, even if it was for the last time. I didn’t think you’d agree to meet up, but I’m glad you did.”

They were silent after that. They drank their beverages, and all without speaking a word. But then, when they paid and left, she let him accompany her home.

“I thought you’d break my bones,” he confessed with a chuckle as he stood outside her apartment complex and she picked the right key to open the building’s door.

“I thought I would, too.” She was pensive, lost in thought, and it took her a couple of minutes before she pushed the door open. “But the truth is, I probably could never.”

They stared at each other, and before he could have the time to chicken out, he said, “I know it’s too much to ask, but… We could still have time together.”

She looked at him for a moment longer before she stepped into the building and closed the door behind her back.

Later that night, as he sat on his hotel bed once again, on a phone call with Marius, he couldn’t stop thinking about the last words she told him.

Yes, we could.

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footy-fictionist · 2 years ago

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Domesticity - Marius Wolf

Pairing: Marius Wolf x female reader

Warnings: full of fluff honestly, google translated German, very very very domestic, hense the title

Word count: 1363

Note: As always, English is not my first language. I thought it was kind of criminal that I can't find much for Marius. I guess I really write most of my fics about the people (bees) that aren't incredibly popular. This is completely fictional. Please do not copy or publish my work, reblogging is fine!

She and Marius had been living together for a few months now. She moved in with him when they were together for six months, not wanting to spend a lot of nights without each other anymore. Of course there were the away games and boys/girls weekends, but those were the exceptions. Their one year anniversary is coming up and she realized that they haven’t deep cleaned the apartment since she moved in. She doubts it was deep cleaned by Marius before. Of course it was tidy and they cleaned the house weekly, but there are parts of the house they don’t really pay attention to.

So now that Marius is away for the game against Stuttgart, she decided it was time for a deep clean. Especially after last week, when Marius was ill and she took care of him. It can’t hurt to deep clean everything to get rid of the germs. So that’s why she’s now cleaning the kitchen, the last part of the house to clean. In the past few days, she started at the attic and worked her way down through the house. Of course she took some breaks and she even watched the game, only to be disappointed when Marius didn’t get any minutes and the game ended in a draw.

Marius comes back home today and she hopes to be done by the time he gets there. The music is loud and she’s completely focussed on cleaning, dancing and singing. Hence why she doesn’t hear the front door open and close or the way bags drop to the floor and him calling her name. When he doesn’t get a response, he decides to follow the music. And there she is, completely focussed on cleaning the countertop, swaying her hips to the music whilst she sings along. She doesn’t like to sing around him because she thinks her singing isn’t good enough, but sometimes, like today, she doesn’t notice he’s there. And he enjoys her voice more than anything.

So he watches and listens, not bothering to announce his arrival. He can’t help but think how beautiful she is. She’s wearing nothing special and yet she is the most beautiful girl in the world to him. When the song changes to a slower song, the pace of her cleaning slows down too. That’s when he decides to let her know he’s there. He comes up behind her slowly and softly, trying not to startle her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She startles a little but she relaxes when she sees the tattoos on his arms. She leans back into his hold and he presses a kiss to her temple.

“Hallo liebling, ich habe dich vermisst."

“I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry you didn’t get to play yesterday.”

He just shrugs and pulls her a little closer. She drops the rag she was using and puts her hands over his. They stand there for a while, just swaying to the music that still plays around the kitchen. When the song changes to a more upbeat song, he pulls away from her. Immediately a sound of discontent leaves her mouth, only to turn into a laugh when he turns her around and starts dancing with her. They dance together for a while, he spins her a few times before pulling her closer. She laughs in pure joy, throwing her head back and letting out a full belly laugh. She doesn’t see it, but the way he looks at her can only be described as loving and admiring. He laughs along with her, her joy contagious.

When her laugh stops, he pulls her close to his chest. Her arms wrap around his neck and their foreheads touch. Both of them close their eyes, taking in the moment and each other. They sway a little, but don’t even notice they’re out of beat with the music. All they can focus on is the feeling of holding each other. Without him noticing she sneaks her hand up to his bun. He only notices her hands are there once she starts undoing his bun, he doesn’t do anything to stop her though. She puts the band around her wrist before running her hands through his her. He leans into her a bit more as she plays with his hair. If she catches any knots, he doesn’t notice at all, with how gentle she’s being.

“Ich liebe dich.”

Her whisper is soft and she softly rubs her nose against his before leaning in to capture his lips with hers. The kiss is soft and slow, but shows all the love they feel for each other. Eventually they have to let go because they need to breathe. He reciprocates the phrase and presses a few kisses to her cheek. She smiles as he does so, tangling her fingers in his hair a little more. She pulls back a little to look at him, suggesting that she makes him some food. He agrees, but doesn’t leave her side for a second. She gets the ingredients she needs to make his favourite snack and once they’re all collected, he wraps his arms around her again. His chest against her back, whilst his chin touches her shoulder.

“I deep cleaned the house whilst you were gone.” He pulls away a little to look at the side of her face. She turns her head a little to look at him. “I realized we hadn’t done that since I moved in and after you were ill last week, I thought it was a good time.”

“Why didn’t you ask me liebling, I could have helped you.” She looks at him a little surprised, she didn’t think he’d be up for it. She presses a kiss to his cheek before returning to her task. “Thank you for cleaning the house, but next time let me help you.”

She nods her head at his request. He presses another kiss to her temple as she finishes up with his snack. She puts it on the counter and he takes a seat on one of the stools. As he eats, she makes him a drink and finishes cleaning the last bits of the kitchen. Every once in a while she passes Marius and presses a kiss against his cheek, showing him that she’s missed him and that she’s happy he’s back home. She moves out of the kitchen to put the rags she used in the washing machine and she immediately takes his bags to sort out the dirty laundry for him. He finishes the snack and immediately puts away the dishes before following her to the laundry room.

“You know you don’t have to sort my dirty laundry and football kit right?”

“I know, but I want to. You work very hard for the team, it’s the least I can do since I moved in. I still work too, but not as intensely as you do.”

He smiles at her and as she stands up, she tries to move past him to get to the laundry that needs to be folded. She doesn’t get that far though as he wraps her back up in his arms.

“Marius, let me go. I need to fold that last bit of laundry.”

“Let me do that, you go back to the kitchen and get us some drinks. Then you can look for a movie and once I’m done, we can watch it together.”

She smiles at him gratefully. He presses another kiss to her lips before they part ways. It doesn’t take long before both of them are snuggled up on the couch. Her head is resting right above his heart, the most comfortable place to lay down in her opinion. It’s comforting to listen to his heartbeat and knowing he’s right there with her. His hand is caressing her back and every once in a while he presses kisses to the crown of her head. It’s the way he shows his love for her, pressing kisses to different parts of her face. It’s his way to feel her warmth and where he finds comfort in her presence. Both of them wouldn’t want it any other way.

Hallo liebling, ich habe dich vermisst: hello darling, i've missed you

Ich liebe dich: I love you

Liebling: darling

#marius wolf x reader #marius wolf x female reader #marius wolf imagine #marius wolf one shot #marius wolf fanfic #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot

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footy-fictionist · 2 years ago

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New fic?

So I've written a very very domestic fic for Marius Wolf. I'm curious to know if anyone would read it. I don't see a lot of love for him so I'm curious what you'd all think!

#marius wolf x reader #marius wolf imagine #football imagine

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footy-fictionist · 2 years ago

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Injury prone part 1 - Nico Schlotterbeck

Pairing: Nico Schlotterbeck x female reader

Warnings: Nico's injury for the Peru game, fluff, a lot of it, comforting each other really, mentioning of the reader having a different nationality than Nico, google translated German

Word count: 1409

Note: As always, English is not my first language. I don't know anyone mentioned in here personally, it's completely fictional. There will be a part two for this where the Bayern game is mentioned. And I have to say I just love him with kids and that's the only reason I picked this gif! Please do not copy or publish my work, reblogging is fine!

Nico has always been proud to represent his country, even when the times are hard. After their elimination from the World Cup, people haven’t been the kindest to him to say the least. When he does well he gets praise, but when he makes one mistake, he gets hate. But luckily there has been one stable factor in his life for a few years now. She has been with him through good and bad. Freiburg, Union, Dortmund, she’s been with him through it all. And even now, during the friendly against Peru, she’s in the stands. She refuses to wear the German shirt, but he knows she’s there for him so he doesn’t mind all that much. He understands that she has a different nationality and then also supports her own National Team.

He’s playing a brilliant game alongside his teammates from BVB. Marius Wolf really deserves his spot on the team. But then he feels it, a small stab of pain in his left thigh that lingers. The game is almost over, but he can’t afford to risk it. He has the game against Bayern soon. There is no way he can miss that, so he sits down on the field. As they check his thigh, he knows he’ll have to be subbed off. She came all the way for him to be subbed off. He knows it’s at the end of the game, but still.

In the meantime she’s in the stands worried about him. She sees the look on his face and knows it might be a serious injury. Nico isn’t one to sit down quickly. It has to be serious for him to sit down during the game and to be subbed off. The second she sees him leaving the field, she’s leaving the stands, going towards the dressing rooms. They let her pass when they see her running. She’s running so fast that she made it there before Nico could even enter the medical room. His head is down but when he sees movement to the side he looks up before entering the room. When he sees it’s her running towards him, he fully turns her way and opens his arms. She slows down when she gets closer, as to not hurt him and wraps her arms around his neck.

He clings to her the second she’s in his arms. She’s softly caressing his neck and over the short hairs on the back of his head. His face is against her neck and she whispers a few soothing words to him. It causes him to wrap his arms even tighter around her, fists clenching her shirt trying not to let any tears of disappointment out. The physical pain is bearable, but the idea of not being fit for the Bayern game messes with his head. He’s leaning on her almost completely, as she softly sways them a little. She catches the eyes of the medical staff, who look at her urgently. They’d like to figure out what’s wrong and how severe it is. She moves to let him go, but it makes him pull her right back.

“Nein, noch nicht.” Is what he whispers to her.

“I have to, Liebe. They need to check your thigh and then we’ll be able to tell if you’ll be fit for the Bayern game.” Even after saying that, he refuses to let her go and get checked out.

Only when the medical staff tell him that she can stay with him whilst they check him over, does he release his hold on her, but immediately grabs her hand and intertwines their fingers. He pulls her towards the bed with him and as he lays down, she sits on the chair next to the bed. She rubs soft circles on the back of his and he gives her hand a small squeeze. Where he might be upset about the injury, she’s worried and he doesn’t always think of how she feels about this. He knows he would hate it if she was injured so he can’t imagine how she might be feeling.

As the medical staff check his thigh, he doesn’t look away from her. Their eyes stay locked the whole time, even when he has to answer the questions of the staff. Her eyes show her worry and he tries to reassure her with his. But the second he winces during one of the tests, he sees a frown form on her face. He gives her hand a squeeze and her eyebrows release their tension again. She scans his face to try and find more traces of pain, which aren’t there. As the medical staff conclude their check up, they both look at them to hear the verdict.

“It doesn’t look too bad, we’ll do some more tests tomorrow. But we don’t think you’ll play the game against Belgium, so keep that in mind.”

After that the medical staff leaves the room. Nico sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. She gets up from the chair and stands between his legs, careful not to jostle his thigh. She wraps her arms around his waist this time and hides her face in his neck. He wraps his arms around her shoulders to keep her close. They both trace circles on each other’s backs. They can hear more movement outside the door. The sound of cleats not going unnoticed, meaning that the game must be over. Not that they care, they are content just staying in each other’s arms. Nico presses a kiss to her forehead, glad that she’s there today.

It doesn’t take too long for there to be a knock on the door though. Hansi Flick opens the door and comes in. Nico looks up and tells his coach the verdict. Whilst Nico explains she lets go of his waist and turns around, the idea of them being too close in front of his trainer doesn’t sit well with her. But all Flick does is give her a kind smile. She sends him one back and takes a hold of Nico’s hand again. She knows she has to let Nico go back to everything soon and she’ll have to drive back home. She doesn’t really pay attention to the conversation between Nico and Flick, but looks up when Nico squeezes her hand. He nods his head in Flick’s direction and she looks him in the eyes.

“We were discussing our next moves. I was thinking that it might be better to send Nico home after tomorrow’s examinations, no matter what the outcome of that is. That way Dortmund can assess him as well and decide if he’ll be able to play.”

She is a little shocked that he’ll let Nico go home like that, but agrees nonetheless. It means having him home sooner, which also means finally sleeping a full night again. She always sleeps better with Nico beside her. And that is how it goes, she heads home and the next day after all the tests have been run Nico comes home too.

The second he's inside she's there to help him with his bags. He refuses to give it to her, but she persists. So he heads to the living room and sits on the couch like she orders him to. A few minutes later she walks past him to the kitchen, only to come back with two bottles of water.

"I already put your clothes in the washing machine.” She drops next to him on the couch.

The second she’s comfortable, Nico changes position. He wraps his arms around her waist and lays his head onto her shoulder. He interlocks their legs and tightens his grip on her a little. She wraps her arms around him and runs her fingers through his short hair. This time she’s the one to kiss his forehead. He turns his head to look up at her and she smiles at him. He smiles back before leaning up a bit for a kiss. One kiss turns into a few and he ends up blowing a raspberry on her cheek. It makes both of them laugh, before they settle down.

“Thank you, for everything that you do for me. I know being with a professional footballer is hard, I’m away a lot. But you’ve been with me for years now and I can’t thank you enough. Ich liebe dich.”

“Ich liebe dich auch, für immer.”

Nein, noch nicht: No, not yet Liebe: love Ich liebe dich: I love you Ich liebe dich auch, für immer: I love you too, forever

#nico schlotterbeck x reader #nico schlotterbeck x female reader #nico schlotterbeck imagine #nico schlotterbeck one shot #nico schlotterbeck fanfic #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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Of Matches and Dates | Bandit x fem!reader

[video by rodnae productions from pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: with Valentine’s Day around the corner, Dominic’s friends have managed to convince him to download a dating app. (Not requested, but inspired by the lovely @kind-wolf as always)

✏️ A/N: this is just a lil something for Valentine’s day. I’m still working on my fluff skills :’) Domi’s dating profile is at the bottom of the fic: it took me forever to make but I’m so proud :’) enjoy 💛

✏️ Warnings: none :’)

✏️ Word-count: 5,274

OF MATCHES AND DATES

The club is packed — and Dominic is too tired to even care, for once. His back is burning, and there’s a nasty gash on his left thigh that a doctor has stitched up too tightly and that’s constantly making him ground his teeth every time the muscle tenses up.

He’s forgotten whose stupid idea it was to go out clubbing not even three hours after coming back from a mission on the other face of the Earth, but he does remember he’s there to be Eli’s wingman just in case his date dumps him last minute. It won’t happen, of course, but the kid still worries when it comes to a pretty lady he’s matched with on Matcher.

Matcher is the latest novelty at the base, or so that’s the impression he’s had ever since his jet landed not so long ago. Even Monika has signed up for an account — It’s great to pass time, Domi! You should download it, it’s free, or that’s what she said the second before tearing his phone from his hands to download it herself.

“Here, I brought you drink!” Alexsandr tears him from his musings — and the dull soreness still crawling underneath his skin — and unceremoniously slaps a shot of vodka on the small, high table he’s been leaning against. By the time the glass is halfway to his lips, Dominic has the time to notice half of its contents have sloshed out onto the metal surface of that dingy thing; he doesn’t care: he simply tilts his head back, lets the alcohol wash down his throat and prays it’ll numb everything to a low hum.

“Where is everyone else?” he asks, hissing when someone bumps into his back in passing. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt like every single muscle in his body felt so pulled and tight, but he’s already set up his mind to barge into Harry’s office the next morning and ask for — or demand — the longest leave he’s ever thought of asking.

Alex shrugs and quickly empties the shot he has in his right hand, for the one in his left is already empty. The bar is right behind them, though, so they both know they’ll be making back and forth more times than one would rather know. “Somewhere in there,” he replies, jutting his chin in the general direction of the mess of bodies behind Dominic’s back. “Adriano has a date, too, so he ditched us.”

“So did Elias, Monika and Seamus.” He turns around briefly, throws a look around to try and see if he can get a glimpse of the friends they’ve come here with, but miserably fails.

“Stupid dating apps, making men our age third-wheel like this.” Alexsandr groans something in Russian then, but it’s under his breath and Dominic would never be able to tell what that was with the noise in there — he also doesn’t speak Russian, he finds himself realizing a minute too late. “But I met the French at the bar, they rented out a VIP room for the night.”

“We should gatecrash it.”

Ten minutes later, eight of which spent downing one drink after the other in the vain attempt to outdrink each other, both men walk into the French’s VIP room behind Gustave Kateb, whose English has already started slurring into French when he doesn’t focus enough.

The French aren’t the only people there: Marius sends Dominic a pleading look as Lion fills his head with his usual bullshit, and a bunch of recruits who’ve somehow had the chance to hang around the more seasoned operators sit on the couch on the far left of the room and listen to what Y/N and Finka are enlightening them with. The two women turn around to greet them and although Dominic’s eyes trail down the plummeting neckline of Y/N’s shimmery top, he still has enough attention to spare to notice how the rookies hang from her lips as she keeps on talking.

Alexsandr’s exclamation of jubilee, however, tears him from the sight of the only one he’s had a crush on for a long time now and there’s nothing he can do to stop the other from dragging him towards the couch Montagne is sitting on with not one, not two, but three bottles of vodka on the low table in front of him.

“What do a Russian, a French and a German have in common?” Gilles asks, raising a shot glass and chuckling drunkenly as icy droplets of alcohol trail down the glass and onto the still-bruised skin between his right thumb and forefinger.

“Their hatred for this goddamn dating app?”

But Alex slaps him up the back of his head as he takes the shot their tipsy friend is handing him. “Alcohol!” he booms, making more than a couple of heads turn around before drinking his glass dry as though it didn’t contain but water.

They end up sitting together, Dominic to the right and Alexsandr to the left of Montagne, their knees pressing into each other’s as they joke and drink. They’re the only three in the room that have just come back from a mission abroad, and no one comes to bother them for a long time as they try to relax and let go. The topic of discussion, however, quickly shifts back to the fucking dating app.

Matcher seems to be all the rage, and it somehow manages to sneak its way into even the most unassuming conversations. Neither of them would by now be able to assert with utmost certainty if there truly is someone at the base that doesn’t use it — apart from the people that have spent the last two weeks on a mission, completely detached from the civilian world, that is.

“I’ve heard Blitz has already had something like fifteen dates so far, in less than three weeks at that!” Gilles’ English is softened and slurred out by his French, the same French that always comes back every time he goes beyond a certain threshold when it comes to drinking.

“Fifteen?!” Alexsandr almost cries out, comically counting on his fingers until he’s reached the right number, almost as though by doing that, he’ll be able to fully comprehend the extent of Elias’ adventures.

“He’s fucked with only seven of them, though,” adds Dominic, tipping down another shot before leaning back against his seat, spreading his arms on the backrest and letting his hands hang against the cool faux leather.

Yet again, Alex counts on his fingers — up to seven, and then up to fifteen, just to see how big the difference between the two is. “Christ,” is his only comment just before he takes a long sip straight from the bottle, long enough to finish the two fingers of liquid that remain in it.

“Monique made me download it,” and it takes them a minute to put two and two together and realize Gilles is talking about IQ in his frenchified English. “Snatched mon portable from my hands and gave it back with that fucking app on my home screen.”

Dominic scoffs, the French’s experience with his colleague hitting closer to home than he would have thought possible before today. “Did the same to me. If you had given her five minutes more, she would’ve created an account for you like she did mine.”

They’re curious, both the French and the Russian, and while Gilles is chill, Dominic knows Alexsandr is not going to let him live this down. So, their quick Show us! turns into some rearranging on their seats so that Dominic ends up finding himself trapped between his two friends, looming over him like some vultures.

“Since when do you like cooking dates?” asks Alex when the app opens on Dominic’s personal profile page.

“Monika chose everything, said ‘pussy’ isn’t respectable enough as an interest. Cooking dates apparently work better at getting women, or so she says.”

“You sure she didn’t want you to match up with her?”

“Don’t listen to Frenchie, show us who it makes you match with!” Alex’s hand is quick at shooting out, but Dominic is quicker, pulling his phone away so that his now pouting friend can’t get a hold of it.

“I’ll use it. I don’t want you messing up my app.”

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of having it.”

“And I don’t! I’m just bored!”

But he still touches the search icon, and the other two almost hold their breaths as they wait for the shitty reception inside the club to allow the page to fully load and replace the pulsating hearts of the logo to leave their place to profile pictures.

The first is a 37-year-old woman with curly ginger hair and eyes of two different colors — they’re both brown, but there’s some blue in the left one, as well.

“Pretty,” says Gilles just as Dominic reads what her profession is — florist. “Match with her.”

But Dom is good — and he tells them that, pushing their hands away from his phone to prevent them from doing things with his app. “Make your own account and stop bugging me about mine,” he replies as his fingers tap the bubble with the golden star icon — not a match, more like a ‘save for later’ and although he’s had plenty of one-night stands, ‘saving’ someone ‘for later’ makes him feel fifty different shades of dirty.

The second woman is South African, a bit too far away, but with his job, he could end up anywhere in the world. So, he saves Bea for later before Alex makes him change his search parameters so that the system would find people closer to his actual location.

There’s a barista he’s seen plenty of times at the pub he and Marius often go to. She’s pretty, on the tall side, with hair cut chin-level short and a tattoo that snakes its way up the side of her neck and that he now sees trails down deeper underneath the low-cut tank top she’s wearing in her profile picture. Matcher says her name is Andrea, so he can now put his curiosity to sleep and stop wondering how he should call her.

Alexsandr taps the two-heart button to match him up with her before he can stop him, and the three of them sit there for a long time — or so at least it seems, with the rest of the party blatantly ignoring them as operators come and go as they please — checking out women and deciding what to do with them. And really, it sounds so bad in Dom’s mind when he puts it into those words — they’re judging someone based on one picture and literally three other facts about them — but that’s still the truth of the thing. Some women end up in the starred ‘save for later’ section — which they’ve found out is much nicer than it seems and it’s just a way to still be able to chat without necessarily match yet —, some get skipped, and Andrea is still the only one in his matches — she still has to match back with him, and deep down Dominic can’t help but wonder how their next encounter at the pub is going to feel like.

It’s endless profiles later, when Montagne stands up to ‘go piss’ — or so he says, kicking finesse out of the window — that a familiar face pops up on the app.

Alex chuckles, almost choking on his hundredth vodka, taken by the surprise of such a sight. “Hey! But that’s —” He’s cut off when Dominic elbows him in his left side, where he knows Alex is bruised — there’s no need to yell Y/N’s name in a room full of people drinking, talking and — he notices when he quickly looks around to make sure no one is paying them any mind — making out in the love-seat in a corner.

Dominic should have expected it, really, Monika did tell him everyone and their mother has downloaded Matcher at the base, and that includes Y/N, but he’s still taken aback because he’s had a crush on her for the longest time now and while he has balls of steel and he’s known for it, he still has… problems approaching her when it doesn’t come to missions or training.

But by God, is she pretty! Both in-person and in that picture still floating on his screen. There’s a sunflower field behind her and she’s sporting trekking boots, camo shorts, and a white tank top on a dusty, Ukrainian road. He was there, when the picture was taken — seven months ago, during the last mission they had been deployed to together — with a bunch of other operators, of course. They had taken a couple of days off when things had been wrapped and some of them had stayed behind before finally coming back to Hereford.

And there she is, grinning at him from up close — technologically speaking, that is —, dog tags disappearing between her breasts under her tank top and her head tilted to the side, eyes almost squinting against the late-morning sun. There’s everything on her profile bubble — less than ten miles away, her age, her country of origin, and then that vague ‘police’ typed out next to the white icon of a briefcase, a description Monika’s put into his profile as well.

“So?” But Alex is distracted by Gilles coming back and sitting down once again next to Dominic, and he doesn’t continue.

“Found anyone interesting while I was gone?”

“Y/N,” is Alex’s unsolicited reply. “But this chicken won’t do shit about it.”

Dominic groans. “Why do you have to be so annoying? Jesus! There, matched her. You happy now?” he complains, tapping the match! bubble with the two hearts before he has much time to overthink. “It’ll make for a good laugh when she opens her app.”

They’re all bored anyway, and he’s known for — almost — always choosing the fun way of doing something. She will match him, send him a haha domi gotcha! great to see u on this app — all lowercase, often with that ‘u’ instead of ‘you’ — through the chat feature, and then they’ll be able to laugh it off during training. It could make for a nice sort of inside joke, he muses as he puts his phone away for the night and reaches for the bottle of vodka.

By the time his friends drag him back to the dance floor to try and loosen up their sore muscles, he’s received some matching requests and more than just ‘a few’ messages in his chat from so many different people that he feels his head is spinning.

It’s early morning already when he, Alex and Gilles wait for their Uber to come and pick them up, all of them with more drinks in their body than there is water. The other two have downloaded Matcher for shits and giggles and are now busy sorting through their recommended profiles.

They’ve all warmed up to it — they’ve all used other dating apps in the past, so one more is not a problem, even more when they’re easily bored and with fewer and fewer ideas on how to pass the time they spend between missions.

It’s only when Alexsandr complains that Why am I not getting hot operators too? with a comic pout on his face that Dominic’s phone goes off vibrating in the back pocket of his pants for the millionth time. He picks it out to finally delete the stupid app — too many notifications in too little time, and he’s too tired to be patient.

The notification message reads It’s a match! with an obnoxious sparkling heart emoji, though, and that suddenly turns his mood around and makes him curious. He hasn’t got a real, mutual match yet, just lots of stars that are probably enough to light up the night sky. So he unlocks his phone, opens the app, and after the rather-cheesy explosion of hearts going off on the screen, he finally sees who’s matched him back and the name both knocks the wind out of him and makes him laugh, all at the same time.

He brings it up to her the next day. It’s just after his training session, when he’s walking around the grounds of the Base to take his mind off of things and Y/N is leaving the armory facility. She waves at him, and he can’t but jog up to her to walk with her for a bit.

There’s some small talk, stuff about plans for this next stretch of time before a mission, catching up like friends or colleagues do, and then he drops it — Now that we’ve matched on that dating app, we should go on a date! He says it with a smile in his eyes and laughter in his voice, but it all fades into silence when he realizes that what he’s seeing on her face is confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

He frowns. Maybe she doesn’t remember it. “We matched on Matcher last night. I got your notification when I left the club.” It comes off as a question — what could have been an attempt at shooting his shot in a best-case scenario or something done out of fun in any other case, seems to be quickly turning around to bite him in the ass.

The look on her face is of utter mortification as she looks up at him, realization slowly and then quickly catching up on her like some avalanche. ‘Mortified’ is the last thing he would have thought to see on her face, and he’s taken aback, for once he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Maybe she doesn’t do older. Or she doesn’t do colleagues. Or maybe she sees him as a big brother — most of the recruits seem to somehow see him that way for the first months, despite him never doing anything to even remotely prompt that kind of behavior.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” she finally says, hiding her face behind her hands. “I was shit-faced last night. Lera and I were fucking around with my app since she says I always get the hot ones, I must’ve done it at that moment. I didn’t think I’d get people from the Base, I’m so sorry. Forget about that, please: I didn’t want to make things weird.”

He’s… bummed, there’s no other way to put it. It kind of stings his pride, in a way, but he sees where she’s coming from. He just… didn’t expect for her to not take it jokingly — after all, they are similar in that, and their sense of humor always makes them find the fun side in almost anything.

“Nah, don’t worry.”

But he’s still thinking about it three days later, and both Marius and Elias, and then Monika, Gilles and Alex as well, have tried to come up with a way to fix it — they don’t exactly know what needs fixing, it’s just a stupid dating app, but the look in Y/N’s eyes is still mortified every time Dominic crosses her path.

It’s only when he’s chilling with Lera and Elias on Wednesday night, discussing possible plans for Valentine’s day, coming up on Sunday, that the topic of Matcher and the apparently dramatic match with Y/N crawls its way into the conversation once more. It’s just the three of them in the lounge room, feet up on the coffee table or on the long part of the L-shaped couch, legs crossed at the ankles.

And for a moment it’s like going back to stupid high school crushes when Lera lets it slip that Y/N is simply too embarrassed to admit that she squealed and giggled like a teenager when she got Domi’s match request over the weekend. That that is the reason why she’s so mortified and she — Lera — is tired of trying to convince her that there’s nothing wrong in finding a colleague hot. Brunsmeier is a handsome man, I’d be surprised if the thought had never crossed your mind! — that’s how she recounts it, glancing at Dominic and shrugging her shoulders.

“She’s just afraid the truth might come out,” she says. “To which I’m not opposed, I’m tired of hearing her babble about it every time she starts doubting herself.”

At first, Dominic’s only reply is a pensive hum as he brings the almost-empty beer bottle to his lips for a sip. “I didn’t think she’d somehow take it personally. I would’ve expected her to joke about it, that’s why I was confused.”

They end up thinking of a plan — send her flowers and chocolates, with a note attached, and then show up at her and Lera’s shared dorm room to take her out on a Valentine’s date. His playful crush isn’t that much of a secret when it comes to his friends, after all: he does get drunk — eventually — and he does let his tongue loose — loose enough to hint at stuff he wouldn’t exactly boast while sober.

So, the next day, they put their plan into motion. A delivery man delivers Y/N the biggest bouquet of roses Dominic has managed to find on the website of a nearby flower shop at almost one in the morning, and it’s not only a surprise to her, but to all the operators and recruits that have stayed behind in the mess hall after breakfast as well.

They watch as she eyes the bouquet, lips parted, a frown of almost suspicion on her face — and from that table, Lera sends him a knowing smirk and a raise of an eyebrow that seems to tell him that she was not expecting such an obnoxious thing.

The exchange doesn’t miss Monika’s eye, and the operator is quick at putting two and two together. She slaps his bicep, and when he turns around to glare at her, almost intimidating her to shut her mouth, she smirks. “Look at you, who would’ve thought?” Her German is hushed, and it makes their fellow German colleagues chuckle, too. “Decided to make a move?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I told you that app wasn’t that bad!” she adds when Elias tells her how things have come to that.

The next day, Dominic makes sure Lera leaves his box of Swiss pralines on Y/N’s bed — and she promptly texts him back when her roommate and friend finds it after her monthly session in Harry’s office.

When Saturday comes around, Y/N’s confusion has taken the place of the mortified look in her eyes, and Lera has started trying to convince him to come forward before her friend would start thinking of some joke. Y/N’s not the type to get spooked out — a last-minute secret admirer just in time for Valentine’s day delivering gifts is the least dangerous thing she’s probably ever come across, but he knows it’s time to ask her out.

He finds her in the very lounge room Elias and Lera talked him into moving things forward. She’s sitting on the window bench, staring out at the park of the base and at the flour-like snowflakes coming down and twirling in the wind, before it turns into rain before nightfall.

“Hey,” she greets him before he has time to make a sound, seeing his reflection in the windowpane. “If you’re going to tease me for the ginormous bouquet I got the other day like everyone else did, please don’t.” She chuckles, though, and turns around when he sits at the other end of the bench.

“Nah, I won’t be childish this time.” There’s a grin on his face as he pulls his feet up and rests his arms on his bent knees, teasing her own leg with a foot for a moment just to make her laugh. “Have any clues on who the secret admirer is?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m quite sure Lera knows who this is, but I haven’t been able to tear it out of her yet.”

It’s quiet for a while before Dominic starts saying Look, there’s something I— before he stops mid-sentence and looks up at her. She’s staring back at him almost expectantly, when someone dashes through the hall and distracts them for a moment.

“I’m sorry that match made you feel the way it did,” he says, “but I’m still glad I sent my request. And I know deep down you are too, you’re just afraid of things going the wrong way.” When she frowns, her lips parting, he scoots closed and lays a hand on her knee. “A little bird told me.”

“Yeah, a Russian one, maybe?” She covers her face with her hands, much like she did at the beginning of the week, before she sighs. “Lera likes to babble.”

“I don’t mind.” His hand gives her knee a gentle squeeze, and he waits for her to look at him again. “It finally gave me the excuse to ask you out on Valentine’s day. If you’re down for it, that is.”

On Sunday, he shows up at her door at half-past six, wearing fucking tux pants for once in his life. He’s cleaned up nice — trimmed his beard a bit, combed his hair back with some cream, stole a few drops of Alex’s perfume when he and Gilles made themselves at home in his room while he was getting ready. She’s begged him to skip the roses next time, and so he’s standing there with a bunch of wildflowers in one hand, wondering why the fuck there’s butterflies in his stomach.

She’s just as beautiful as ever when she opens the door, and Lera is nowhere to be found when she invites him in so that she can put his flowers in some water. Red dress, black coat, killer heels, painted lips — she almost takes his breath away.

“You’re stunning.” The honesty in his voice makes her stutter for a moment before he lets her give him a hug.

“You’re not any less,” she grins, pecking his cheek before following him outside and then to the garage level.

He makes her ride behind him on his bike, and the dinner at the overpriced fancy restaurant he’s managed to book last-minute passes in a flash. But even despite that, he doesn’t miss the way she warms up — and opens up — the more they chat: long gone is the mortification he knows she’s felt at the idea of possibly having made things awkward or of having given her crush on him away, and they actually find themselves getting to know each other better through tales from both missions and their civilian lives and childhood.

When they’re forced to leave the restaurant to leave their place to the second turn of patrons on such a busy February night, they walk around the center of the city arm in arm, both wrapped up tightly in their jackets and with their helmets in hand. They talk and talk, and the more they do, the more that faint shadow of embarrassment they felt throughout the week evaporates from their shoulders much like the condensation leaving their lips.

Neither of them is in the mood to return to Hereford just yet. It’s nice to be out and about, doing normal things, falling for what Dominic considers a well-thought-out marketing strategy — although he won’t lie by saying he’d rather be doing something else tonight, or spend time with someone else.

“I’m glad you matched me,” she suddenly confesses, the both of them hurrying up to cross the street before the traffic light turns red. “I would’ve never had the guts to. And I’m glad you did what you did and that we’re now here.”

He grins at her, pulling her closer into his side by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Vodka is the best remedy against bullshitting instead of taking action,” he jokes, and she laughs.

He stares at her as she does, unable to keep in that chuckle.

“Yeah, I’m sure, Sanya always says the same bullshit,” she laughs, shaking her head before pointing at the bowling alley with her helmet, her other arm wrapped securely around his waist. “I don’t wanna go back yet. What do you think about some bowling?”

When they get back at the Base at around three in the morning, Dominic has a rip in the crotch of his pants and they’re both still giggling like kids at the memory of how comically loud the ripping sound seemed when he bent to throw his ball. They were joking around, in the bowling track further from the entrance, when it happened and she had to stand right behind him as he walked back to their booth, both of them laughing loudly, his cheeks burning red in an uncharacteristic moment of embarrassment.

“Bring me your pants when you wake up, I’ll fix them for you,” she chuckles, her hand still wrapped tightly in his.

“We should go bowling again,” he replies instead, looking down at her, now a bit shorter since she’s walking barefoot, her heels in his other hand. “With a proper attire this time, though.”

“Sure, why not?” Her excitement makes him smile, and even in the night lights always on throughout the Base during the night, he can see how her eyes seem to grin up at him. “I’d be ecstatic to watch you lose miserably a second time.”

“You only had luck!” But it’s not a real complaint — after all, he is shit at bowling, but he’s loved spending tonight with her and he’d be happy to replicate it more than just once. “And I let you win.”

“Of course.” Her chuckle is low now that they’re in the sleeping quarters.

And although they should go to bed and get ready for the day of training and simulations awaiting for them when they wake up, they still seem to linger, standing there, in front of the door of her dorm, still hand in hand, smiling at each other.

“Thank you for tonight,” she says eventually, taking a step closer to give him a quick good-night hug, and she grabs her heels when he hands them to her.

“Likewise. I really enjoyed it. We should do it again.” He puts the idea out there, but when she smiles sweetly at him all his doubts seem to sizzle and evaporate.

“We should,” she nods, her fingers playing with his.

“Just ring me up when you’re free from your Matcher dates,” he grins, winking at her, hinting at the quite numerous dates she told him she had since downloading the app.

“Nah, I’m deleting it. I got the one match that matters most, so there’s no reason in keeping on looking.” She balances herself by putting both hands on his shoulders and pecks the corner of his mouth. “Good night, Domi.”

When he opens the door of his room, still grinning, the last thing he’s expecting to find is some of his friends waiting around for him just to know how his date has gone.

“So?” Monika asks, standing up from where she’s been sitting in his desk chair, eyes tired and hair tousled.

“We brought vodka,” Alex grins, raising an almost empty bottle while Gilles points at the empty glasses on the nightstand. “We’ve been waiting for this day for too long!”

“Sorry, man,” Marius says from his bed, both eyes closed and ankles crossed.

“We couldn’t stop them and shooting them dead wasn’t an option,” is what Elias aads, and Dominic knows it’s going to be a long night. But when he’s done talking, he knows he’s deleting that goddamn app, too.

[credits: psd (mine) | dominic | random guy #1 | random guy #2]

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

#dominic brunsmeier #r6s bandit #dominic brunsmeier x reader #r6s bandit x reader #r6s imagine #dominic brunsmeier imagine #r6s bandit imagine #rainbow six siege imagine #angelaiswriting

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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The Contest (6 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Jäger x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N finds herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf had)

✏️ A/N: I’m not entirely satisfied with this part, it was somehow the hardest to write so far, but hopefully you’ll enjoy it! 💛 I also kind of hurt my hand yesterday and it has slowed me down a bit, and since I haven’t started working on the very last part of this fic yet, I’m not sure there’ll be an update on Sunday. Fingers crossed that I’ll manage to write, but just in case, you've been warned 😅

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only (oral f/r, fingering)

✏️ Word-count: 2,897

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

<< part five: dominic << | PART SIX: MARIUS | >> part seven: the winner >>

Marius had managed to come back three days after Dominic’s turn and while he would have preferred to remain on-site with the other operators on the team, Six had called him back to report. After that, Dominic had marched him down to the dorm sector of the Base and had dropped him into Y/N’s hands.

Be quick. The guys and I are tired of waiting, he had half-joked before jogging back down the corridor and out of sight.

“I’m sorry,” Marius said, looking away from her half-dressed form. “He was waiting for me outside Harry’s office and he brought me straight here.”

When her brain started working again after the surprise she had just been presented with, she gasped out glad a cuss word at Dominic. “Oh fuck, you’re still in your uniform! Did he drag you here right after you came back from your mission?”

He shrugged, a hand coming up to give the back of his neck a brief massage before he rolled his shoulders back. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Were the others in on this?”

He looked away for a moment and she knew, then and there, that despite the fact that he was most likely tired out of his mind, he was still down to lie for his friends. But eventually, when he answered with a vague and unfinished Yeah, no, they…, she scoffed.

“I should kick them out of this stupid contest,” she groaned. She let the t-shirt she had had in her hands when Dominic had swung the door of her dorm open drop on the bed and she walked up to the man in her room. “You’ve just come back,” she repeated. “Have you showered yet?”

When he shook his head no in response, she took his hand in hers and led him into the bathroom.

“You don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to,” she told him, “but maybe a shower will do you good anyway.”

There was no need to ask him if he was tired: she just knew he was. She had been on missions as well and she knew how tough it could get when the adrenaline left your system. The tiredness and the soreness caught up — and sometimes even your mind would start wandering.

He turned her around when she turned on the water so that it could warm up for him and when they were facing each other, he pulled her into an unexpected hug.

Marius was a respectful man, he had always been. While Elias had always glanced at her quite a few times, he always respected Dominic — and while she wasn’t Dominic’s, or not exactly at least, he had never done anything that could have been even remotely misinterpreted. And although they had been brought closer by that silly game they were playing, he had never so much as hugged her before.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He inhaled deeply, his face buried into the crook of her neck, and when one of her hands came up to cradle the back of his head, she felt him shiver. “Thank you,” he muttered eventually. He was smiling a tired smile when he pulled back, a playful I’m starting to see why he’s so into you leaving his lips. “However, if you’re okay with proceeding, I won’t say no. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker those motherfuckers will stop pestering me.”

Her chuckle made his smile broaden that tad bit more that his teeth were visible for a moment. But then her smirk turned mischievous and her hands moved up his chest. “We’ll make him pay for playing this card on you.”

She pushed his jacket down his shoulders and as she bent down to pick it up and bring it back into her room to hang it on the back of a chair, he got out of his shoes.

“I can shower you if you want,” she proposed when she reached him again. He was halfway into taking off his shirt and she noticed the purple bruise peeking from underneath the cotton.

“But you said…”

“To hell with what I said.” She knew the rules didn’t allow for them to be naked, but she wasn’t going to ask him to kneel down between her legs, not when he had just come back from a mission. “Yes or no?”

It took him a few moments to say yes, and she knew it was out of respect for his friend. But when he caved in and let his shirt drop to the floor, she walked away from the door frame she had been leaning against and moved to stand in front of him. Her eyes met his when her hands moved over the button of his pants and he gave her a curt nod of his head before she finally proceeded.

“What happened to your back?” she asked, this time not looking at him as she kneeled before him to drag his pants down his legs.

She had seen the nasty blue-ish bruise on his left pectoral, but didn’t bring it up. Bruises were part of the package with their job, but they still had a weird effect on her when they were on someone she cared about.

“Fell down a story,” he answered vaguely as he held onto her shoulders to step out of his clothes. “Nothing to worry about too much.”

“Did you get yourself checked in the med bay?” She had taken his socks off and had stood up again. And as her fingers hooked underneath the waistband of his boxers and she stared into his eyes, she saw that spark of almost guilt flash across his face. “Dom will have an earful in the morning,” she groaned to herself as she pushed his underwear to the floor. “Now get in,” was the order she gave as her hands came up to unclasp her bra. “I’ll be there in a second.”

The shower felt asphyxiatingly confining when she stepped in behind Marius. Private bathrooms on the Base tended to be smaller than the rest when you didn’t share a room with someone else, and never before that night had she consciously understood what that meant.

“At least neither of us is going to slip and fall,” Marius chuckled, turning to face the sidewall of the cubicle so that they could have a little more space.

She let out a chuckle of her own as her hands slid up his bruised back, careful not to press too hard into his tense muscles. “How did the mission go?” she asked eventually when she started soaping him up.

“The usual,” he shrugged. Before he could continue, her thumbs dug into the flash of his shoulders and he hissed. “The guys needed last-minute help securing the objective.” He groaned again when she started massaging his shoulders and the back of his neck and before long, he was leaning his forehead against the tiled wall.

“They called you back quickly, though,” she pointed out. She was doing her best to work some of the knots in his muscles, but it proved to be a hard feat in the confined space of the shower. “That’s good?” It left her lips more like a question and although a last-minute call to leave on a mission was always a pain in the ass, she couldn’t help but wonder how things had gone.

“Yeah, no, everybody’s fine.” She didn’t miss his relieved exhale when her hands pressed down along his spine, where bruises didn’t mark his skin. “The mission has been completed, they just had a few things to do before coming back.”

It turned quiet after that and although he muttered a sorry at his half-erection when he turned around, the atmosphere in the bathroom was peaceful and relaxed. She finished soaping him up, humming quietly under her breath, and after she was done washing him, he surprised her by making her turn around to face the wall she had been with her back towards.

His hands were soft on her skin and much like she had done just minutes ago, he worked on her tense shoulders as they made small talk. She told him about the endless days at the base, and he told her some details about his mission, funny stuff the operators he had been working with had said. By the time his thumbs started their descent down her spine, her mind seemed to be peacefully swimming as her eyes closed in relaxation.

“You’re better at this than I am,” she joked when her brain managed to make her tongue work again. Her head tilted back against him of its own accord and although she did feel him painfully hard against her back for a moment, he was quick to move back.

She gave him his time when she stepped out of the shower a minute or two later. She quickly slipped into her toweling robe, left a towel on the sink for him, and slipped out of the bathroom in silence as she closed the door behind his back.

She had tried not to look — she really had, out of respect for the contest’s rules, the other guys and most of all, her quickly dying resolve not to cheat. But she had had a glimpse of his cock — long and slightly arched — and she had felt it brush against her butt when he had abruptly turned around. So, when she eventually laid down on her bed, she couldn’t help her hand from traveling down her body and stopping between her legs as she listened in on Marius’ soft grunts coming from the bathroom.

She was wet, and it had very little to do with her skin still being slightly damp from the shower she had just walked out of. Her middle finger slid between her folds, the fingertip teasing her entrance, and a light moan left her lips. For a moment, she realized that this was how Dominic might feel — wanting her without being able to have her just yet — but she didn’t have long to ponder that thought and play with herself, because the door of the bathroom opened and Marius stopped in his tracks at the sight of her, her legs spread open, a hand between them, and the bathrobe barely concealing her upper body.

“Look at you.” The smirk that stretched on his lips made the skin of her face burn and although her hands itched to come up and cover her face, she kept them where they were — one on her abdomen and the other with a finger half-way inside her pussy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

It made a shiver run down her spine — how rough his voice sounded, the way he was staring at her, right between her legs.

He stalked towards the bed and when he stopped at the foot of it, he leaned forward to take her hand from between her thighs. The fingers of his right hand brushed against her pussy and his left brought her hand to his lips before he sucked her middle finger clean. She almost gasped at the soft grunt he let out and although she could feel her face on fire, she couldn’t take her eyes off of his.

“I almost kneeled in that shower,” he confessed when he let her hand go. He pulled her closer to the edge of the bed by her ankles and his hands slid up her bare legs before he pulled the string of her robe open. “Did the others take you there?”

She shook her head and although she had been on the verge of squeezing her thighs together under the intensity of his gaze, she found herself simply smirking when he started kissing his way up her legs.

“I should’ve aimed for those extra points then.”

A chuckle was all she managed to consciously let out before he licked a stripe between her folds and groaned at the taste of her before he kissed up her lower belly and abdomen.

The stubble he hadn’t had the time to shave grazed her skin, forcing goosebumps in its wake. It still felt nice — she was used to a whole different level of beard burn anyway — and all she could do was relax against the mattress as his lips made their way to her nipples. He licked and suckled, and although he was pouring his all into it, she felt how tired he was in the way his body was pressing down against hers.

“Marius,” she called, fingernails gently scratching his scalp before she tugged on his hair to prompt him up. “Lie down, I’ll sit on your face.”

He smiled at her — and there was a faint spark of mischief in his eyes when he looked at her right before he let himself plop down on the bed next to hers. He seemed to pour his thank you in the way he caressed the side of her face when she turned her head to look at him, and a little even in the way he moved strands of hair behind her ear. “If I weren’t this tired, I’d surely win,” he smirked, pulling a chuckle out of her. “But I can still give you a good time anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders and fully turned to lie down on his back and as he did so, she couldn’t help but notice the flaps of his towel opening a little, almost as though to tempt her and remind her how much into a dick-fucking mood she was.

When she straddled his face and glanced down at him, her hands firmly holding onto the metal headboard of her bed, she found him grinning up at her like a child on Christmas day. His hands slid up her thighs and his fingertips pressed into her flesh, and when she hesitated for a moment, he pressed his face into her inner thigh and groaned deep in his chest.

“C’mon, let me eat this pussy.” And for good measure, he gave her ass a playful slap that made her jolt.

She chuckled at that, and deciding on having some mercy on him and his post-mission state, she hastily took off her robe, threw it to the side, and allowed him to lower her down onto his face.

He inhaled deeply before diving in, and his tongue on her drew a gasp from her lips. He licked at her, used both his thumbs to spread her labia for better access.

“I tried not to think of you in the shower,” he confessed just as her left hand moved over her left boob and teased the nipple. “But you have a great ass and I…” His hand left another swat on her right butt cheek and her body leaned forward, a moan leaving her lips when his wrapped around her clit.

So you like ass, was what she managed to chuckle before his tongue dove into her and ate her out.

He was noisy — moaning and grunting, and overall most likely enjoying it just as much as she was — and his breath against her made her shiver. Her eyes were fixed on his hair and the hand that had just been holding onto her breast moved down, her fingers tangling in his wet hair. Her hips were rocking gently back and forth, and she could feel that unmistakable feeling starting to build up inside her.

It started off slowly, with his tongue dipping into her before licking forward, teasing her clit, and then it built up much more quickly when he slowly pushed two fingers inside her. Their pads massaged over that sensitive spot inside her and her breath grew heavier, and then quicker. And before long, her eyes were dropping closed and her lips parting as the last coherent thoughts left her mind and moans and whimpers slipped through her lips.

God, he’s good, was the last thought she had before her grip on his hair tightened.

He gave her clit a harsh suckle and she was gone, her head thrown back as she gasped for air, no energy left in her to voice her orgasm. She wasn’t even aware of how tightly she was holding onto the headboard, just of his mouth and tongue on her — and of those two thick fingers still inside her.

“You good up there?” he asked eventually, turning his head to the side to leave a kiss on her shivering inner thigh.

She was staring at the ceiling, still panting lightly, the fingers of her left hand absentmindedly massaging his scalp. Her hips had stopped moving, but she was still out of breath and with the shocks of her orgasm still coursing through her. It felt amazing, though: her head felt completely empty and her whole body at peace.

“Yeah,” she exhaled eventually and when she managed to swallow, she tilted her head down and looked at him. “Yeah, I’m all good.”

“Need help letting go of the headboard?” His hands trailed up the back of her thighs and then her spine, before sliding back down and settling on the curve of her ass.

“I need help with a lot of things,” she chuckled, amused, “but this headboard is the last of my thoughts.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

#angelaiswriting #rainbow six #rainbow six siege #rainbow six siege smut #rainbow six fanfic #rainbow six siege fanfic #rainbow six siege x reader #r6s jäger #r6s jäger x reader #r6s jäger smut #r6s jäger fanfiction #marius streicher #marius streicher x reader #marius streicher imagine #marius streicher smut

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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Long Day | Jäger x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Jäger x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Y/N’s had a long day at work, but Marius is there to help her relax.

✏️ A/N: just a little something to console a friend with. @kind-wolf hopefully you’ll enjoy 💛

✏️ Warnings: hopefully fluff ??

✏️ Word-count: 1,667

✏️ Translation: Schwiegermonster = monster-in-law (lol my new favorite word in German apparently 🤷🏻‍♀️)

LONG DAY

Marius had called off his night with the boys when Y/N had come home from work, shoulders curved under the weight of the shitty day she had had and a long sigh passing past her lips. He had been on the phone with one of them — Dominic, most likely — and she had barely picked up his words as she had been left with energies enough only to focus on one task at a time.

“Love?”

Her hand missed the hall stand and her coat fell to the floor with a soft thud, and had it been a different day, she probably would have cared. But not tonight.

He reached her in the hallway just as she was taking off her shoes, but it was the scratching of the dog’s nails on the floor as she most likely scrambled down the couch to hurry behind her favorite human that drew a smile upon her face.

“Long day?” he asked, taking a step closer so that he could tilt her chin up.

She knew he could read the exhaustion in her eyes and while she usually hid it well — or could generally handle it better —, she had been left too drained to even try and attempt to put on a mask. “You could say that,” she chuckled instead. Tired as she was, she couldn’t stop her head from leaning into the hand he had moved onto her cheek and she looked up at him.

“Do you want to vent?”

He took another step closer and before she could pick up with him, he had his arms wrapped around her waist as his head tilted down to rest on the crown of hers. Words failed her as she found herself trying to sigh the exhaustion off of her and after a while, when the dog sniffed her leg and pressed her nose against her pants, she shook her head no.

“Are you leaving at the same time as usual?” she asked softly, lips moving against the soft cotton of his shirt.

She had missed having him home; coming back from work and finding him tinkering with stuff in the garage or chilling on the couch or even trying his best in the kitchen was a million times better than meeting him behind a screen, with miles and miles separating her from the location of his current mission. And while she didn’t mind him taking time for himself to meet up with his buddies, she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be left alone tonight.

The way he said that nah made her smile and exhale loudly from her nose, but right then, he pulled back to look down at her. “I told them I’m not going. You look like you need me more than they do tonight anyway.” When she frowned, he cupped her face and gently shook it from side to side a couple of times as he smiled. “Let me be the caring husband for once,” he chuckled, pecked her lips, and finally pulled back completely.

Maja jumped up on her and her weight suddenly dropping against her tore a ugh! from Y/N’s lips.

“Yes, I missed you, too,” she cooed, hand scratching underneath the dog’s chin.

Maja had always been a great helping hand when it came to relaxing. She greeted you with her one-year-old-puppy energy, but then it was almost as though she were a sponge for anything you wanted to kick out of your system. A look at her, a boop of her wet nose against her, the happy wagging of her tail, and suddenly the world felt lighter and the room she was in turned brighter and more spacious. Most likely just an illusion, but certainly one she always welcomed with open arms, whether her man was at home as well or away for work.

“Do you want me to cook you something? I thought it’d be your usual pizza night but…”

“No, I just need to unwind.” Eyes still on the dog, she scratched behind her ears before allowing her back down on the floor. “I just want to soak in the tub until someone comes and tells me I don’t have to go to work tomorrow.”

Marius’ deep chuckle made her smile and when Maja scurried away to go curl up among her toys once again, he put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side as he accompanied her to the stairs. “You’re the owner, no one can stop you,” he whispered in her ear before picking her up and walking up the stairs.

She laughed for a moment at that, before she pressed closer to him and left a kiss on his cheek. “You know, I’m tired but I can still walk.”

His Let me pamper you for once, woman! was repeated a second time when he put her with her feet back down on the tiled floor of the bathroom and turned on the faucet of the tub. “I know how to do this,” he half-smiled as he poured body wash into the tub and then turned to look at her.

Then, when he straightened up, he turned towards her and all he needed to communicate was a look. She stretched one hand out for him to grab while her other one came up to remove the hairpin that had kept her hair away from her face for the whole day. A throbbing headache had started spreading right in that area and she felt the skin of her scalp was tense and sore.

Marius’ fingers were deft on the buttons of her blouse and then on that of her pants. He worked on her clothes in silence but then, when his gaze settled on hers as his hands slid underneath the cotton of her blouse and then down her shoulders, pushing the garment down with the movement, the smile he sent her way almost felt like a breath of fresh air.

He undressed her and when he took her hand in his to help her get into the bubble-filled bathtub, she let him do.

“Thank you,” she hummed.

Her eyes closed of their own accord, eyelids suddenly heavy and muscles ready to relax in the warm embrace of the water. She didn’t remember the last time she took a bath — surely months before, most likely to help Marius wind down after a fight or a long mission, she couldn’t be sure — and although she preferred to stick to her much quicker routine in the shower, she found herself basking in the feeling of extreme relaxation this moment brought along.

But then she startled with a gasp when her husband spoke from behind her as he knelt down to pull her hair out of the way of the water. “So, how did this morning go?” he asked.

She had imagined he had left the room when silence had fallen, but part of her was glad and almost even relieved that he had stayed.

Her answer was a groan as her eyes fell shut once again. She had told him about the ‘bad thing’ she had done and he had joked for a moment to try and lift her spirits at the prospect that lay ahead. And while that whispered Schwiegermonster of his had made her chuckle the day before on the phone, she had found herself being annoyed at that unexpected change in routines.

“What do you think?” she huffed, a second before his fingers on her scalp tore a soft moan of relief from deep down her throat.

“I could take care of the problem for you,” he proposed, lips grazing against her temple as the comb he had in one hand started combing through her hair. “Give me one morning with her.”

“Yeah, sure,” she laughed, opening her eyes and tilting her head back a bit so that she could stare into his eyes. They were almost twinkling under the lights of the bathroom, and the grin he had on his face made her lazily shake her head from side to side before she let him go back to combing through her hair. “She’d be able to get in touch with your superiors and have you called back to England in a heartbeat.”

He hummed in response. “She’s free to try.”

Silence filled the room again. She allowed herself to enjoy the gentle scalp massage he was giving her, the comb now forgotten on the floor after he had brushed the rare knots out of her hair. It was warm and cozy and the more he worked on her, the more her headache faded and her body seemed to relax.

At some point, outside the closed door of the bathroom, she heard Maja frisking down the corridor, ready to fall asleep in her bed right at the end of it.

“If I were to take my mother to work and come straight back home tomorrow,” she started, voice slow and low, her mind closer to being asleep than it was to being awake, “would you spend the day in bed with me? I feel like I need to sleep for half an eternity.” Her words stumbled one upon the other as she spoke, but she didn’t care, for he seemed to understand her just fine.

“Of course,” he hummed, his lips brushing against her temple once again, her right one this time, and his hands trailed down her arms until he had her hands in his. “Just directly call her a taxi and stay home.”

His words were tempting and when his fingers tickled her lower belly, she found herself giggling with her eyes closed, the back of her head resting against his shoulder. Before long, she mumbled out a fuck it and turned her head to the side to press a kiss to his lips.

“I might as well do just that,” she grumbled before she sat up when he moved around to grab her sponge.

Look at me working on my fluffs :’)

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/light-pink-flowers-on-white-table-4284200/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ASK)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

#angelaiswriting #rainbow six siege #rainbow six fanfic #rainbow six siege fanfic #rainbow six siege imagine #r6s jäger #r6s jäger x reader #jäger x reader #marius streicher #marius streicher x reader #marius streicher fanfic #marius streicher imagine

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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The Contest (1 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit / Blitz / Glaz / Jäger / Tachanka x fem!reader

✏️ Summary: Dominic Brunsmeier can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut when it comes to eating pussy, and that’s how Y/N found herself being drafted to be the judge of this pussy-eating contest. (Straight out of a dream @kind-wolf had)

✏️ A/N: I... ehm, am a hoe, whoops 🙊 y’all, enjoy! Thank you, Alice, for always having great dreams and for letting me write about this. 🥰 The first actual part is coming soon, I just want to write a bit more of part four to avoid dishing everything out now and making you wait for the rest.

✏️ Warnings: nothing yet, but still 18+ only for sexual themes (oral sex f/r) being discussed.

✏️ Word-count: 1,937

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

THE CONTEST | >> part two: elias >>

When Y/N entered the lounge room, the conversation was already flowing and as she was already tired from the testosterone-filled day spent at the practically almost empty base, she didn’t make much of an effort to join it. She simply reached the alcohol cabinet, poured herself some whiskey, and sat down in one of the empty armchairs, ready to allow her drink and her friends’ voices in the background to fully relax her.

The day she had ahead was another one of those boring days. She was base-bound for the time being: other teams had been sent on various missions and only a bunch of operators had been left behind “on hold”. It wasn’t that bad: it meant having some days off, but those days often felt way too long and their emptiness brought up a heavy boredom she didn’t always know how to banish.

Her head had just leaned back against the cool faux leather of the armchair when her ears picked up bits of the conversation the boys were having and her eyebrows furrowed.

“Eating pussy is not a hobby,” Glaz was saying matter-of-factly.

Y/N’s eyes shot open, and the sip of whiskey that was halfway down her throat almost choked her.

“That’s something someone who doesn’t know how to eat pussy would say,” was Dominic’s reply. His eyebrows were knitted together and his lips almost pursed in disbelief at what his friend had just said. But then, when his gaze swept over and settled on Y/N, sitting right opposite him with the low coffee table separating them, his expression relaxed and his free hand, the one not holding his beer, came up to stroke his beard. “Have you ever eaten pussy so good you start considering learning how to breathe out of your ears?” he said and although he wasn’t talking directly to her, he was talking about her. He had told her just that a couple of weeks ago; he had groaned those words right against the chafed and tender skin of her inner thighs as she was still shivering with the aftershocks of her umpteenth orgasm, and she had breathlessly chuckled out loud at the mental picture that concept had painted in her mind.

At that, Marius laughed, a sound right from deep down his throat as Elias coughed in the attempt not to choke on his own drink. “You know no discretion.”

“Of course not! This motherfucker just said eating pussy can’t be considered a hobby!” Burning with disbelief, Dominic took a long sip of his beer and as he did so, he settled better in his armchair and allowed his ankles to cross as he rested his feet on the coffee table. “You learn how to eat delicious, juicy pussy, Glazkov,” he continued, the corners of his mouth curling upwards, “and then we’ll see if you still don’t change your mind.”

Timur groaned something in Russian and Alex cackled next to him. “I already know how to eat pussy, Christ. I bet I’m even better than you at it. You’re just boasting, but it’s all smoke in the eyes.”

Alexsandr proclaimed his agreement with a raise of his drink and before Dominic had the time to speak again, Y/N intervened, hoping to put an end to the discussion.

“Are you guys really arguing about your oral skills?” she scoffed, pulling her knees closer as her head leaned back against the headrest of the armchair. “How old are you, fifteen?”

“Listen, you know I’m right.” Dominic’s insistence threatened to make her smile, but hiding it was easy behind the rim of her tumbler. “You have to get down eye-level with your woman’s pussy and give it your fucking best. If you don’t go down on her like that’s the best thing you’ll ever do in your days, then you better leave the room to the pro.”

“Who, you?” Marius scoffed, eyeing his friend up and down before rolling his eyes at his Well, yeah, of course.

“Oh, fuck off. What are you, the self-proclaimed Cunnilingus Lord?”

“I don’t see anyone else worthy of that title here, so yeah, sure.”

There was a sudden uproar of “You clearly haven’t seen my women with me between their legs,” and “I’m sure you don’t even know where the clit is,” until Glaz’s voice seemed to drown out the others.

“You’re so full of bullshit, Brunsmeier.”

“I won’t let a child with his mom’s milk still on his upper lip insult me!” And while everyone’s words felt heavy and tense in the silence of the base, they all knew it was just a way to tease each other in the vain attempt to liven things up in these days’ placidity. Maybe an impromptu fight was just what they needed to have some fun.

But then, as Timur and Dominic stared each other down, Y/N’s soft laughter catalyzed the men’s attention onto something else. “I can’t believe you’re really about to fight over this. Why don’t you just sit in a circle and jerk each other off? The tension in here is palpable. When was the last time y’all had an orgasm?” She smirked and when she turned and caught Alex’s almost-shocked facial expression, something she never thought she’d one day see at the mention of sex, she chuckled some more. “You should place bets, and then come back and see who’s actually the best. The winner wins the money and the title of Cunnilingus Lord.” It was a joke, one she didn’t think would have a follow-up.

Silence ensued, and she would swear she could hear their brains work at maximum capacity as they mulled over her words. She knew how filthy-mouthed and filthy-minded these men could be — and she had spent more time with them than she had ever done before the past week — but it was still somewhat surprising to catch them red-handed as they fought about who had it bigger — or, in this case, who ate pussy out the best.

“What about a contest?” was Alexsandr’s proposal. He was sitting with his legs spread open and his hands in-between them, still holding onto his shot glass.

Everyone seemed to agree on his proposal and for a moment, as they spoke their minds, Y/N let her eyes close once more: if they wanted to challenge each other to a stupid contest, let them. The peace didn’t last long, though, because at some point, just as she was contemplating a nice bath instead of a shower before hitting the sack, someone called her name, and her eyes shot open just in time to see Dominic’s mischievous grin before it disappeared for good.

“I was saying,” he spoke up again, voice slow and measured as his feet came to rest on the floor and his legs spread a little wider, catching her eye, “that you would make an excellent judge.”

“And a partial one,” complained Marius, to which Dominic complained with a But she loves getting head! “We all know you two spend more time in the same bed than you do in separate rooms.”

She scoffed at that, more annoyed at the thought that someone would think she’d make someone else win on purpose than she was at the fact that she had just been brought into such a game. “Just because I’ve seen his dick more than I’ve seen yours doesn’t mean I don’t know how to judge good oral skills.” She frowned.

“It’s settled then.” Timur was grinning and his eyes seemed to twinkle under the lights of the room. “We eat you out, and you proclaim the winner.”

“Slow down, I never said I’d participate in your silly game.”

“But you also didn’t seem that opposed to it a second ago,” Dominic remarked. He was smirking again, and she knew he had something in mind. “You make the rules, and drop out if things start getting uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, no hard feelings,” Elias smiled, trying to look more innocent than she knew he was. “We care about you; you know we’d never push anything that could cause you discomfort.”

She eyed them all, one after the other, pondering the pros and cons of having these five men’s faces between her legs and not because of some chokehold during training. She had no problem saying yes to Dominic — she had been saying yes to him for longer than she could actually recall, and he had never disappointed. But it still felt rather weird to know that while it was just sex and they weren’t exclusive, that man was okay with that. He knew how to be possessive, but he wasn��t exactly jealous, and although they had never talked about it, she had never thought of him as someone who would share so willingly.

Unless his ego was at stake, though, apparently.

“There won’t be any dick involved,” she decided eventually. “I don’t know about clothes yet, but if I say you must keep them on, you will keep them on, understood?”

There followed a chorus of Yes, Ma’am and although her body relaxed against the leather of her armchair, she found herself squeezing her thighs together.

“No toys allowed, but fingers are fair game,” she added. “Scratch that, their use is highly encouraged. We can do it anywhere you want as long as it’s somewhere private. But absolutely no exhibitionism: there’s only going to be me and one of you in the room at a time. Only one person in a day, for God’s sake, I have other things to do other than being the judge for your stupid game.”

“Deal,” was Elias and Timur’s rushed reply and they exchanged a look at the simultaneity of the action.

“I’m not done,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I’d say the rule is only one orgasm per participant but if you’re good at it — and you’ll understand it from my reaction —, you have free reign to give me another.” It was a plain attempt at riling Dominic up because it had been clear, just a few moments ago, that he thought he was the best, la crème de la fucking crème when it came to giving head to a woman, and a sick part of her wished she could be able to challenge him that tad bit more. “I don’t care about the order you decide to follow, that’s your business. I’d just like for you to let me know at least the day prior, so that if I’m busy with something Rainbow, we can reschedule.” She sat back for a moment, thinking of something else to add, but she came up empty-ended. “Now, if you accept these rules, you’re in, otherwise forget about getting close to my pussy.”

They all agreed, and they all promised they’d be good boys and behave.

“What’s the final prize?” Alexsandr inquired after a while, almost absent-mindedly.

“The knowledge that the winner is the best in this room at eating pussy? I thought that would be enough,” she laughed. “You can bet real money, that’s your business. But,” and she stared right in Dominic’s eyes as she prepared herself for what was to leave her lips, “another go between my legs could be put up for grabs.”

Dominic’s That’s out of discussion! put the others’ exclamations of jubilee to silence. “You go down on her only once, you fuckers. That’s it.”

Her grin at his reaction only widened when Timur spoke up again.

“What are you worried about?” And then, to the others, barely holding back his laughter, “Maybe the expert isn’t really that great after all.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ASK)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

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The Contest (7 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ A/N: I made it! Many thanks to Alice for some ideas, and to the swipe keyboard on my phone that didn’t kill my stupid hand. I know I always say oh I’m such a hoe for XYZ, but I truly am for Dominic Brunsmeier lol bye. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this ride like I did!

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only (oral m/r for once hehe)

✏️ Word-count: 3,120

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

After the few, very tense days the guys had given Y/N to sort her thoughts out, the day had finally come for the winner of the pussy-eating contest to be announced.

Keeping away from them had proved to be quite the feat and although she had managed to keep them in line for longer than she had thought possible, she had somehow succeeded. The only exception had been Dominic, of course, but she had been prepared for that; it had been no surprise. Just as it hadn’t been unwelcome.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he had complained that afternoon, his lips mere millimeters from the skin of her neck, sure of the fact that he’d be crowned as cunnilingus lord before midnight.

He had relented, though, and that never-faltering pout of his didn’t leave his lips until work got busy and tore him from her side.

Now, however, she was sitting in the same common area the contest had been, for lack of other words, signed and with those five pairs of eyes fixed on her, she felt slightly out of place.

They had waited for the other operators to leave. They didn’t need to know about the little game that had been going on while they had been on their missions, just as the contestants didn’t need to feel any kind of weird way about anyone else knowing. Not that they would feel embarrassed, of that Y/N was sure — she knew who she was dealing with, she was no fool — but she still appreciated the privacy. For her own sake, most of all.

“I don’t know what to say,” she chuckled eventually in the otherwise gravelly silent room. The television had been put on mute and the football match the boys had been watching earlier had already been long forgotten. “I didn’t think much about making a speech.”

Never before had she felt the strong impulse of hiding behind something, anything, as she did now. She had done things with them — or, well, they had done things to her, to be precise — just as she had never been embarrassed of talking about sex. Hell, Dominic brought her dirty talk to the next level!

“But I did think of a surprise for the winner,” she continued before anyone could speak, hanging on her every word as they were. The box in her lap felt heavier than it actually was, and if anything, it was comforting to know that the winner’s crown she had come up with on a last-minute lightbulb moment was just as silly as the contest itself.

“Is that something I can use on you?” The smirk Dominic threw her way positively managed to make blood rush to her cheeks. She knew what that look in his eyes could mean, and she found herself impatient at the idea of finally being able to have all of him, and not just his mouth, again starting tomorrow. He had been pissed for a few couple of hours after he had seen his best buddy leave her room with his clothes in his arms and just a towel around his hips — and then when he had seen her wet towel robe on the floor of her room —, so it was good to know that his moody blues had passed.

Elias snorted. “You seem convinced you’re the one who’s gonna win.”

“I’m not gonna win, I have already won,” the other scoffed.

Alexsandr said something, then. Something under his breath that got swept away by the other men’s childish bickering. But also something that sounded an awful lot like they had all won by having the chance of going down on her. It was sweet, in a way, and although she wasn’t sure she had understood his muttered words right, she still smiled a sweet smile at him.

But although he had always been sweet with her, the memory of the things his mouth and fingers had done to her still made the palms of her hands turn clammy and the skin of her cheeks burn.

“There’s no need to bicker, children,” she scolded when Timur pleaded with her with the look in his eyes. “The winner hasn’t been announced yet, I can still change my mind and make you lose points.”

Dominic and Elias shut up at once and almost comically, they whipped their heads in her direction at the same time.

“Don’t be mean, baby.”

“And you don’t test me, Domi.” But she still smiled at the childish pout this burly man gave her.

“How did you give points?” asked Marius, yawning behind his beer. He still hadn’t had the time to recharge completely after his mission and the position he was in at the moment — laid back against the couch, his legs up and crossed at the ankles on the coffee table — made it clear that he was about to fall asleep right then and there.

She shrugged. “That’s for the judge to know. All you need to know is that the prize is this majestic ammo crown —” she laughed as she took the ammunition belt out of the stolen shoebox in her lap — “and another round with me. I did promise that, after all.”

The discussion was sparked again and she let the men poke each other for a while before calling for silence again.

“I will cut this short because this contest has been dragged out long enough.” She rose to her feet and laid the now empty box on the armchair she had been sitting in. “Some of you misbehaved,” she pointed out, throwing Dominic a playfully pointed look. “Most of you tested my rules’ limits. I won’t talk about your performances, I’ll just crown the winner and call it a day. Any sort of complaint before we proceed?”

She trailed a finger down the back of Dominic’s neck when she stopped behind him and he tensed under her touch. And although she couldn’t see his face, she knew he was grinning in anticipation.

They all stared at her — all but her man, of course — and she took her time to swipe her gaze over all of them. Marius, half asleep, had been sitting the closest to her armchair. Next to him, Elias could barely wipe that smug smile of his from his face. Timur seemed shy tonight: he had been quiet ever since they had been left alone to that closing ceremony of sorts to their contest, barely opening his mouth to speak. She smiled sweetly at him, but when her gaze landed on Alexsandr, her smile turned into an amused laugh.

“You’re such a man child,” she shook her head as she moved over to stand behind him, unable to calm her laughter down at the smooches he was playfully miming. “I can’t believe this is how the winner gets crowned.”

The ammunition crown fit snugly around his head — and it wasn’t by accident: she had felt like a special agent spy sneaking into the Russians’ locker room in the armory facility to take some measurements of his helmet.

“I’m going to add cunnilingus to the Lord on my shield,” he said with laughter in his voice when she leaned forward from behind and her hands interlocked against his chest.

Just as those words had left his lips, muttering ensued and although they all wanted to complain one way or another, it seemed like they respected her too much to keep it up for long. They pouted — Dominic more than the others, his arms crossed against his chest — and they sat back against their seats in silence.

“Don’t take this to heart,” she smiled eventually, standing up straight and digging her fingertips into the muscles in Alexsandr’s shoulders. “You all know how each of your performances went, and they were all really good. But you all agreed on proclaiming a winner, so here we are. Don’t come at me for having to pick one.”

“Yes, but the old man also won more head.” The others joined in on Elias’ defeated groaning, but no one voiced the additional thought they shared: That’s not fair.

Marius was fast asleep when she looked over at him and hadn’t it been for Alex’s hand wrapping around her wrist when she made to pass by, she would have probably moved over to him and covered him with one of the blankets strewn over the back of one of the other couches.

“I will have to pass that opportunity on to someone else, though, sweetheart.”

She frowned her brows at him, but she didn’t miss the way Dominic’s eyes seemed to spark up at the Russian’s words. “What?”

“Eh, I can accept any kind of death but not one caused by a German,” he shrugged, turning his head to look at Dominic. “The poor man has shared you enough.”

When Dominic slipped into her room behind her, some time later, after some more talking (and complaining) in the common area, it was approaching midnight. They had all drunk a bit — Alex had insisted on a few rounds of vodka to celebrate his victory and his huge, selfless heart — and now Y/N felt nice and warm all over.

Dom, however, was still groaning half-heartedly under his breath and although he didn’t accept another man’s charity, his hands still grabbed her hips from behind and pulled her back against his chest.

“Come on, baby, you know I couldn’t let you win,” she smiled, pressing her ass against his pelvis before forcing him to let go of her so that she could turn around. “You know they would have complained about me cheating to make you win.”

He pouted and huffed, and leaned his head down to hide his face in the crook of her neck.

“You know you’re the only one I want between my legs,” she cooed, hands coming up his arms before her nails gently scraped down the back of his neck.

“But you and Marius…”

She chuckled. “Nothing happened, it was all in here,” and she left a kiss on the side of his head. “I did help him shower after you motherfuckers didn’t give him time to rest after his mission, but he only ate me out.”

“No sex?” His voice had the tone of a petulant child and it made her smile. It kind of gave her heart a squeeze, to see this fearless soldier worrying about the woman he wasn’t even official with having sex with someone else.

“Of course not! Why would I?” He let her pull his head back so that they could stare into each other’s eyes, then. “I’m sorry we played along and let you believe something more happened. It was just a silly way of getting back on you for being so insistent with him, I promise.”

“You’re cruel. Both of you,” he huffed. He still pecked her lips, however, and she smiled up at him.

“At least you got the most valuable part of the final prize, though…”

“By chance!” He picked her up with a grunt that tore a laugh out of her.

“It wasn’t by chance. I’m sure they would’ve all passed not to anger you,” she replied, caressing the back of his head as he laid her down on her bed. “The contest is over. They know you’d snap their fingers if they accepted.”

His groan vibrated against her cheek. “They’re all horny fuckers, they wouldn’t have said no. Bones heal, and two broken hands give you more time on leave, which is always nice.”

“Well, I’d still run back between your legs. That must count, no?”

“It does,” but he was already growing unfocused as his hands moved down to the elastic waistband of her yoga pants. “Now let me claim my prize and then we’ll see if you’ve been forgiven.”

She laughed at his antics but before he could understand what she was doing, she had pulled him into a hold and had reversed their positions.

“Since it’s just you and me, maybe another kind of payback would be more appropriate,” she smirked, sly, “don’t you agree?”

He tilted his head up and stared down at her, at her fingers playing with the button of his jeans, a smirk of his own slowly stretching on his lips. Her hands moved, then, and her cold fingers slipping under his t-shirt and gliding over the skin of his abdomen made his muscles tense as he shivered slightly.

“You were made just for me,” he muttered under his breath when her hands moved south again and made quick work of the button and zipper of his pants.

She chuckled. “I still don’t give in easily, though.” She pulled him up into a sitting position, then, and before he had the time to open his mouth to complain, she was murmuring in his ear, both hands tugging on the hem of his shirt: “Take this off, let me see your tattoos.”

He was quick at complying, tearing the piece of clothing from his body in one swift, fluid movement. She was on his lips right after, his head cradled in her hands as she ground down against him. Slow, unhurried, his hands moved from her hips to up her back, underneath her shirt, and when she gasped lightly at the goosebumps his rough skin caused, he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

It was almost lazy, and for a few minutes, they sat like that, with her in his lap, slowly grinding against his growing erection as they kissed. Then, when he pulled on her lower lip and bucked his hips up, she pulled back, pecked his lips once more, and pushed him back down on his back.

She kissed down his body. Down his neck, his chest, and then back up to his throat — kissing, licking, sucking hickeys on his inked skin. When she eventually reached the waistband of his pants and she looked up at him with a smirk on her lips, she found him already staring down at her, both arms under his head.

She giggled at the sight and before she could focus too much on the throbbing between her legs, she hooked her fingers under both pants and boxers and dragged them down his legs, dropping them to the floor.

He was hard. Hard and thick, arched up against his lower abdomen. For a moment, she was back to a few days ago, when he had come in his hand right next to her, a rough fuck leaving his lips as his back arched. He had been a sight to behold, that was for sure, and when she looked up at him now, she found that one of her hands had absentmindedly slipped into her pants already.

“Fuck, I missed this,” she groaned, grabbing both of his thighs as she moved to lie down between his legs.

“Me or my dick?”

“Both, you silly!” she chuckled, right before she licked a stripe up from his left ball to the tip of his cock.

He sighed, and in her peripheral vision she didn’t miss the way his head leaned back against the mattress when her tongue teased his slit.

“Just don’t tease,” he half-begged, half-warned, the fingers of one hand brushing against the back of her right one, still holding onto his hip. “I won’t last.”

“I’ll behave,” she hummed, lips pressed right under his glans. “Or I’ll try to, at least.”

He groaned his light frustration in a string of huffed German, but he eventually tried to relax back and spread his thighs a little wider for her.

Her thumb came up to smear his pre-cum around, and she proudly smiled at the hissing inhale he took at the sensation.

“Always so sensitive,” she hummed, that same thumb now tracing the rim of his cock’s head.

It was hard to focus when all she could think about was that sensation of fullness, of having him thrust up slowly into her in his usual attempt at driving her crazy.

When he begged her to take her clothes off, she didn’t have to be told twice: she pulled up, hastily removed her clothes, and just as her lips wrapped around his glans once more, two of her fingers moved down to her clit and then the wetness at her entrance. She groaned against him, tongue teasing his frenulum before her hand moved back up and her slick fingers wrapped around the base of his erection.

“Fuck, you touching yourself?” he groaned as one of his hands moved to lay on her head.

She took him deeper into her mouth, giving in to his silent request, and hummed her answer around him. His hips bucked and as she set a rhythm to the bobbing of her head, alternating between that and suckling his head, his moans grew louder, his breathless cussing more frequent.

He was gone the moment she took his balls in her hand, and she did her best to relax around him as he twitched in her mouth and ejaculated down her throat. Her name left his lips in a breathless plea and she almost missed it, lost as she was in his orgasm and in the insistent feeling growing inside her.

She suckled on his glans once more after he had finished ejaculating and she chuckled when he pulled her up and off of him.

“That was fast for your standards,” she giggled, giving him one last lick from base to the slit in his tip and watching him shiver.

“Shut up.”

She kissed her way up his body, then.

“You’re cute with your face all red,” she smiled, pecking his lips and moving her legs so that she was straddling him. “I sure missed that these days.”

After that, she let him catch his breath and when he opened his eyes again, his breathing now even, she didn’t miss the spark of mischief in his smirk and eyes.

“Maybe we should do another contest,” he said slowly, hips bucking up against her. They both moaned at the sensation, and his hands came down to her butt cheeks and squeezed them. When she hummed in question, his smirk grew into a grin. “A cock-sucking one.”

“You’re dreaming!” she laughed. “I don’t share what’s mine, you prick.”

His expression softened into a smile and his hands trailed up her spine, fingertips soft and barely-there, forcing goosebumps in their wake. “So I’m yours?”

“Did you have doubts about it?”

He shrugged one shoulder and smoothed the frown on her forehead with his thumb. “Nah, it’s just good to hear you say it for once.”

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

#angelaiswriting #rainbow six siege smut #rainbow six siege #rainbow six siege fanfic #r6s bandit smut #r6s bandit x reader #r6s bandit imagine #r6s bandit fanfic #r6s blitz #r6s glaz #r6s jäger #r6s tachanka #Dominic Brunsmeier x reader #dominic brunsmeier imagine #dominic brunsmeier fanfic #dominic brunsmeier smut

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angelaiswriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Contest (5 of 7) | some R6S guys x fem!reader

✏️ Pairing: Bandit x fem!reader

✏️ A/N: enjoy 😈

✏️ Warnings: 18+ only (oral f/r, fingering)

✏️ Word-count: 3,398

✏️ The links to the other parts are in the masterlist linked in my bio.

<< part four: alexsandr << | PART FIVE: DOMINIC | >> part six: marius >>

Luckily for her, the next day ended up being as busy as the day of Timur’s turn. Thatcher had requested Marius’ intervention in Malta, where he had been deployed with Sledge and other operators, and Y/N had spent the morning helping the man getting ready to leave. Help check his equipment, brief him quickly about the kind of mission he was about to leave on for a few days, keep an eye on the other guys as they loaded said equipment on the aircraft that would fly him to his destination.

By the time she was done and the man had been flown out, she was as exhausted as one can be. Having woken up at four in the morning wasn’t of help; add that to her thoughts (and soul) still being in that locker room with Alexsandr, and it was no surprise that she crashed out in the matter of a few minutes when she reached her room again.

She had asked Dominic to speed it up, though; she had told him Alex had already had his turn and she wanted to continue fast — or as fast as possible now that the fifth and last man wasn’t at the base anymore. The only thing she could do was hope that he’d be back before she could start missing his presence.

And Dominic had been nice. He had agreed on staying with her until she’d fall asleep, and more importantly, he had agreed to give it his best that day. He had done so quietly, almost uncharacteristically quietly, but the excitement in his eyes and in his grin had been all but subtle.

When she woke up, sometime after noon, it took her a hot minute to come back down to Earth. Slumber was still heavily laced with her thoughts — and with her tongue, for it felt heavy and asleep in her mouth. She blinked against the too-bright light of the lamp on the bedside table; a stupid idea of hers to tell Dom to leave it on before closing her eyes, almost in the hopes that she would not oversleep. And although she had slept in and he hadn’t switched the light off, it was almost disappointing to see him gone.

The other side of the bed was empty, and while he had left his sweatshirt behind, hanging behind the door of her room, she knew she wouldn’t find him in the bathroom. Some meeting with Harry, or so she seemed to recall him saying in the very few minutes she had spent awake after returning to her room at nine.

When she eventually managed to wash her face and leave her dorm, the corridor she walked into when she closed the door behind her back was silent. One of the drafted teams had been supposed to return to the base at ten — she had read the papers in the hangar when she had signed Marius’ modules for him — but not a sound reached her ears as she made her way to the mess hall.

It was better that way, she thought. It felt selfish, for a moment, because no one wanted to stay on mission longer than necessary, but if someone else were to know about the contest she had found herself being the judge of, it would be easier to dig herself a grave with her own hands than to face the incessant teasing she would get from some of her colleagues.

“Decided to join us for lunch?”

It was Elias’ chuckle that welcomed her back to civilization — or as much of a civilization as it could be when these men were involved. He was sitting at a table with Alexsandr, who was looking at something on his phone before he lifted his head and greeted her with a knowing smirk.

“Is there anything left for me?” she yawned, pointing at the empty plates still sitting on the table before them.

“There’s some delicious doctor’s sausage for you if you follow me to the kitchen.” Alex was on his feet in a heartbeat, balancing his and Elias’ glasses on their dirty dishes as he still held his phone in the other.

She almost choked on air at that, before the other man said something about going easy on her before he hurried out of the room, her slap already dangerously close to his shoulder.

“No cocks involved, remember?” she said, catching up with Alex just as he was stepping through the kitchen doors. “You made me come twice, but don’t think I wouldn’t disqualify you if you whip it out.”

He turned around with a grin on his face and a sausage in one hand. “Zayka, I don’t need to show you my cock to win this game.”

She had spent the afternoon thinking about his cock, though. Saying the opposite would be a lie. She had paired up with him again to train — to let out some steam had been her exact words, but she knew training wouldn’t help her this time — and by the time she had showered (alone, this time) and had left the gym, Dominic had already had his hands on her.

“Where are we going?”

“We put great responsibility on you,” he said instead of giving an answer to her question. “I thought a surprise would do you good.”

His lips brushing against her ear, she had expected for the surprise to be something else — or somewhere else, right between his legs, for example — but what she found left her pleasantly surprised. When he typed in the code to unlock her door, there was an impromptu dinner waiting for her on her bed.

“I was too busy to actually cook you something.” He grabbed her gym bag and dropped it against the wall as he closed the door. “But it’s still early anyway, so I thought some fruit and chocolate couldn’t be that bad.”

She gave herself a moment to take the sight in. He had laid out a checkered tea towel on her bed, almost as though it were a picnic of sorts, with a tray full of fruit he had already washed and cut. Next to it, somehow balanced against a bottle of bubbly, was a box of her favorite liquor-filled chocolates.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Dom. Thank you.” She took a deep breath before turning around and facing him — more to swallow down a chuckle than anything else.

He was much closer than she had expected him to be, his chest almost pressed against hers when she turned around. His hands came to rest on her hips, and he pulled her closer with a smile on his lips, his nose bumping jokingly against hers.

“Don’t count on this to buy you points, though,” she whispered against his lips, eyes open and staring into his. “More tongue, less planning, yeah?”

“If you weren’t my judge, I’d call you a party pooper,” he pouted. “Let me set the mood at least! I’m ready to bet what’s between my legs that those motherfuckers didn’t even spend the time to do it.”

She smiled at that, and this time it was a genuine smile as she pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then you’re free to proceed with your plan, Contestant number four.”

He picked her up then, didn’t even wait for her to say another word before pushing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he walked her to the bed.

“What do you want to start with?” He didn’t say it out loud, but she knew his dick was part of the choice range when he sat down and thrust his hips against hers.

“We can have fruit later, I want to start with the real deal.” And before he could come up with some pun, she was already tearing the thin plastic wrapping off of the chocolate box.

“Only you can consider chocolate ‘the real deal’ in a situation like this,” he laughed.

She shut him up with a quick peck on the lips before she fed him chocolate. “Just eat,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “That’s what you’re supposed to be doing tonight anyway.”

The sound that left his lips was halfway between a groan and a chuckle, something so inexplicably ‘Dominic’ that she found herself unable to stop that smile from stretching her lips.

“I wanted to be romantic,” he said less than a minute later. He tasted of chocolate and liquor, only faintly of the cherry hidden inside the praline. “And here you are, making innuendos like someone who can’t wait to have her panties torn off of her.”

She chuckled, popping a chocolate into her mouth and smirking at him. One of her hands came up to absent-mindedly stroke his beard before her thumb brushed against his lower lip. “Well, that’s also true, Mr. Isn’t that why we’re here, now?”

“I came here to be romantic,” he reiterated, left hand stretching out blindly for the bottle of wine. “To feed you fruit and chocolate, dance a bit, maybe make out for a while before I kneel for you.”

“Who are you trying to fool?” She leaned back a bit to give him space to uncork the bottle, before one hand slipped down to his crotch and the other up to his throat. The freedom she was taking with him in the confines of the contest was more than she had taken with the others — probably more than she should be taking in the first place —, but it didn’t seem to matter. The others knew she and Dominic fucked, and by joining the contest, they had accepted whatever risk that brought along. “We both know that that mouth of yours doesn’t do ‘romantic’ between my legs.”

“I might’ve had a trick up my sleeve,” he shrugged, taking a sip of bubbly straight from the bottle before tilting it towards her lips. “But now you’ll never know…”

Smirking, she shook her head before taking the bottle from his hand and tilting her head back, eyes always on his. Bubbly was never her first choice — if it wasn’t the kind she liked, then it ruined the moment — but Dom knew what she liked and what she didn’t, and had brought just the right bottle up to her room. “You are something else,” she scoffed, the corners of her mouth tilting upward as she leaned to the side to put the bottle down onto her bedside table.

When she stood up, he grabbed the hand she was presenting him and in a heartbeat, he was back on his feet.

“C’mon, Brunsmeier. I didn’t wanna ruin your plans. Seduce me with your dancing.”

Right when she was starting to think he had forgotten about the music, he whipped his phone out of the front pocket of his pants and put on a slow.

They didn’t move much, it was more like an oscillating movement than anything else, with her standing with her chest to his, the side of her face pressed against his shoulder, her hands on his shoulder blades. And although his hands were palming her ass, it still felt sweet and as she stood there, listening in closely more to his slow breathing than the music he had chosen, she realized that that was probably the first time they were doing something like that. Everything always felt fast-paced and excited between them, and the world seemed to spin that tab bit faster when they were together, so it was a pleasant surprise to be experiencing the other face of the coin for once, at last.

“Are you catching feelings?” she hummed, lips pressed against the side of his neck.

His chuckle seemed to reverberate and sound in her own body when it made him tremble in her arms for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind catching feelings for you, nah.” He moved his head to look down at her, and when his chin bumped against her forehead, she pulled back just enough to look up at him. “But don’t confuse tonight’s tactic with a declaration of endless love, babe.”

She laughed, part of her relieved that he hadn’t said anything right as he was about to play his cards for the contest, and shook her head. “You’re poking me,” she said instead, teasingly, her hips pressing just a fraction closer to his.

“Yeah, I can’t help it,” he shrugged with a smirk, giving her ass a slap when the song came to an end and his YouTube app turned silent. “Can I be naked as well?” he asked as he helped her out of her shirt.

The pleading look in his eyes made her chuckle, but it still made her resolve falter. “You must keep at least your boxers on.”

He pouted for a moment as his fingers undid the button and then the zipper of her jeans, but then there was a flash of something in his features that she didn’t miss and she knew, then and there, that he’d try to have his underwear to come off as well.

“You’re cruel,” he whined, lips barely brushing against hers, beard tickling the skin of her chin. His fingers slipped inside her panties and when they found her wet and hot, his expression turned more mischievous.

“Yeah well, rules are rules.”

“These are your rules, though,” he pointed out, pushing her pants down her thighs until they’d drop to the floor on their own. His hands trailed then up her spine, making her shiver, until his fingers slipped underneath the band of her bra and stopped there.

“That you accepted to follow, yes,” she grinned at his pout.

He whispered a please in her ear when he unclasped her bra and pushed the straps down her arms.

“Behave,” she hummed, slipping out of her shoes and her pants and pushing him a step back. “And then I might decide to do something about this.” With her hand cupping him between his legs, there was no mistaking what she was implying.

He settled with a playful huff, but then let her unbuckle his belt and undo his pants without complaining. She was quicker at undressing him than he had been, which was probably more than what he deserved after trying to tease his way between her legs more times than she could recall since the start of the contest, and before long, he stood in front of her with just a pair of gray boxers on.

“Look at you,” she smirked. Her stomach and the walls of her vagina alike clenched for a moment at the sight of him and she thought that if she truly did manage to follow through with her own rules, then she had one fucking strong willpower. “What got you so hard?”

He picked her up and when he turned around with her in his arms, they both fell onto the bed in a bundle of giggles. “‘The goddess lying naked underneath me’ is as good an answer as any.” His lips attached to the side of her neck and the giggles that were still spilling from her lips left their place to a soft moan as he ground himself between her legs.

“You are so silly,” she whispered, the fingers of one hand caressing down his shaved head to the back of his neck.

“And I shouldn’t have left this fucking tray of fruit on the bed,” he groaned, before she managed to stop him from sending everything to the floor.

“Kneel between my legs,” she said instead, interlacing her fingers with his. “Don’t think about food. Think about eating me out.”

He was more than happy to oblige. She giggled, and the happy groaning he did when he unwrapped her legs from around his waist and kissed his way down her body made her smile widen. He lavished her neck, and then her chest, spent some good minutes making her nipples bead and turn sensitive before kissing and licking his way down her abdomen before finally settling between her legs.

“I missed this pussy so much.” He breathed his whisper out against her slick folds, making her shiver. “So wet and tight…” And as if to test his own words, he sucked on two fingers and slowly inched them into her.

Her chuckle was breathless as she moved a pillow underneath her head so that she could look down at him comfortably if she felt like it. “Sometimes I think you love my pussy more than you like me,” she joked, dragging a heel up his tattooed side.

She almost missed his muttered Nonsense, before he licked at her.

He was slow, this time. Slow but determined, with that come-here motion of his middle finger making the insides of her thighs start shivering already. Under his burning gaze, with his tongue hot and lazy licking up from his fingers to her lick, she was barely aware of the low whimpers brushing past her lips.

“Play with your tits,” he hummed, a second before his lips wrapped around her clit and she hissed in a breath. “I love it when you do it.”

“So I should work for the orgasm you have to give me?”

It was a joke, one that still earned a low groan from him. His free hand trailed up her body, the callouses lightly scratching her skin, and she whimpered louder when he pinched her right nipple between two fingers. “I can’t wait to put that smart mouth of yours to good use,” he warned, before his hand turned gentle on her boob.

Breathing out a laugh proved hard when he went back to eating her out and she felt herself clench around his fingers. Her eyes blinked slowly a couple of times before they eventually closed, and a frown settled on her forehead. “Less talking,” she egged him on, “more eating.”

He came up one last time to say, “You’ve become insatiable,” before he proceeded undeterred, zeroing in on his goal of making her come.

Before long, she picked up his moaning above the almost-buzzing sound of her blood in her ears, and when she fought to open her eyes to look down at him, she found him lazily rutting his hips against the mattress, the muscles in his back rippling with every moment.

Her breathing was hard and labored, and she felt like her whole body was shivering; and the sight of him barely holding himself in check was almost enough to make her come. It was the moment he moved his head just right, though, and his beard brushed against her sensitive skin, that she came with a low cry of his name and the world seemed to explode and go silent at the same time behind her closed eyelids.

He kept on going, and she was barely aware of him still eating her out — this time slipping his fingers out of and his tongue into her spasming core — to help her prolong her orgasm as she fought to ride it out.

When the shivering in her thighs calmed down and all that left her lips were the whimpers she couldn’t control, her automatic reaction to his beard teasing her overstimulated vulva, he playfully licked his way up her body before throwing the pillows across the room and laying down next to her.

His cock was still hard against the side of her thigh and for a brief, quick moment, she thought back to when Alexsandr had come in his pants and she let out an involuntary, soft moan. Her hand automatically reached out to touch it, but she stopped herself just in time and instead of slipping it into his boxers, she cupped him from above them, teasing his balls for a second as he breathed hard in her ear.

“I won’t make you break your rules,” he said and the tone of his voice sounded almost pained against the skin of her cheek. He gently turned her head to the side, pecked her lips, and when she finally opened her eyes, she smiled at him. “But I’ll let you watch me come,” he continued with a smirk on his lips when his hand pushed his boxers low enough to wrap around the base of his dick.

Feedback is always welcome if you want to drop old me a line 💛

Original pic used: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-clouds-and-blue-sky-4870972/

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

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