#my pants fit me again but somehow i feel b*****

[mrsshabana]

I NEED to give Dilftaro the sloppiest head in the backseat of the family van in front of our family house 😭

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, oral sex, blowjob ꔫ‧₊ Note Ask and you shall receive (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) What a good way to celebrate my return from vacation ♡

After a romantic date with your husband, you pull up into the driveway of your home. Gyutaro puts the van into park and sighs.

"I wish we could do this more often."

"I know, me too," you lean forward and kiss his cheek.

It's not often that the two of you get to have dates like this. Ume came over to babysit the kids so you and your husband could have a much needed date night together.

"I mean, we don't have to end the date just yet," you say as you put your hand on his thigh.

His cheeks immediately turn pink, "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean...," you trail off and begin unbuttoning his pants, "we should take advantage of this opportunity."

"B-babe!" he gasps as you pull his semi-hard cock out of his pants, "But we-we're in front of the house!"

"It's fine, it's dark out anyways. No one will see," you smile and begin stroking his length, "Besides it's been so long since I've been able to do this for you."

Leaning over, you tilt his seat back so he can be in a more comfortable position, and then you prepare to pleasure your husband.

He moans softly and all of his worries begin to melt away as you wrap your lips around him. Slightly bucking his hips, involuntarily following the warmth of your mouth.

"Ahh fuck..." he groans and tilts his head back.

Gyutaro works really hard to support you and take care of his family, so you love when you get moments like this to worship his body and make him feel good. He's the perfect husband and father, so he deserves it.

"Feel good, Gyu?" you coo as you stop for a moment to take a breath. But before he can respond you're lowering your lips onto him again.

"Y-yeah," he pants, bringing his hand up to gently hold your hair.

He could roughly grab your hair and pull you up and down his cock, but no he's much more gentle than that. Carefully caressing your hair and softly bucking his hips. Being so gentle and caring, just as he always has been throughout your relationship.

Giving him a sloppy blowjob in the family van seems like a fitting reward. So that's exactly what you do.

His toes curl in ecstasy when you manage to fit all of him down your throat. Over the years you've somehow managed to fit all of him without triggering your gag reflex.

Bobbing your head up and down, going faster and faster as his moans increase in volume.

You know he's getting close when his thighs begin to tremble and his member twitches.

"Y-Y/N ah I-I... Ngh!" he moans incoherently as you milk him with your pillowy soft lips.

He's so fucking close, and you know just what to do to bring him over the edge. You flick your tongue over his frenulum, that soft spot right below his cock head. It's very sensitive, and it's your secret weapon to giving your husband the most amazing orgasms.

The muscles in his shaft contract, twitching violently as he spews hot sticky semen into your mouth - splattering across your tongue and throat.

A loud groan of satisfaction leaves his lips, like all of his stress and worries have been released and he feels nothing but pure bliss.

He looks down at you with nothing but love and admiration in his eyes. Usually, men his age who are married with two small children don't get to have moments like this. All they get is missionary sex once or twice a month.

But no, not Gyutaro. His wife loves him to the moon and back and isn't afraid to show him just how much she loves him. Not to mention that after all these years the passion you feel for each other is only getting stronger each day.

"Y/N..." he mutters between content sighs, "I love you..."

"I love you too Gyu," you say after you swallow his load. "Maybe from now on we can make this a tradition after every date~"

[pryllee]

Mutual

Blade x Fem! Reader

Somnophilia, friends, degrading kink, hickeys, bruising, non-con / dubcon, switching, nosebleeds, first time! Kinda rlly short...

A/N: Again, please bare with the possible bad writing. Wrote this within like a hour on a school night too so I'm sorry if it's too rushed... Was planning to upload a ”fingers” one first but imagine deciding to try f blade as he sleeps but hes secretly awake and enjoying it...

——

How exactly did you find yourself in this situation, with him sleeping on your bed peacefully like a baby after coming to you since he'd finished up ’something’.

He fell asleep almost instantly which seemed a little suspicious... You periodically glanced at his face from time to time, considering something.

Pushing away the hair covering his other eye, admiring his porcelain-like skin. He was handsome with apparently alot of admirers like you, yet you wanted to steal him for yourself. After all, you guys are ”friends”.

Pondering for a few seconds, you again found yourself straddling his lap, him still apparently asleep.

You grazed your clothed sex against his, biting onto your bottom lip frustratingly. You kept the soft moans stuck in your throat as to prevent his wakening,

You finally decide to go through with it and unbuckle his pants, you blushed softly at his boxers, reconsidering it again before you say, ’Fuck it, I'll never have this chance again..." You slid his boxers down enough to reveal his shaft as you lowered yourself, sucking and licking at it till it hardened.

– 'Bit too big, will it really fit? –

You tried to thrust it in your mouth, looking up to see his reaction or at least a sound, yet he still remained unfazed, having you gag at his length filling up your mouth, you rubbed at your still clothed slit..

Bobbing your head at an awfully slow pace, feeling your panties dampen intensely till you stopped and catched your breathe...

– I guess I should put it in now... –

You went back to your original position, taking no time to slide your panty to the side, trying to align your hole with his hardened tip holding onto his broad chest slowly taking it in...

”Mmng—" You interrupted yourself, covering your mouth as you barely even took it all in yet felt your stomach tighten around it vigorously...

Accidentally somehow slipping, all of it slid in making your back arch as you almost fell into his chest head on,

You felt tears bubble up slightly with little drops of blood flowing down onto him.

Slowly moving up, you lost your strength halfway trembling crazily. You tried to find your composure yet your breathe hitched as if you were hyperventilating,

You decided to check his eyes, trying to recheck if he was awake... As you opened one of his eyes with two fingers, you jerked back almost violently falling onto the mattress behind when you saw it staring at you, yet he grabbed onto your wrists as you laid flat on your back.

His tip was still inside you—and he slammed it back in fully with force making you yelp, "Making a move on me when I'm sleeping, really?" He leaned in closer as the grip on your wrists tighten.

You started to try thrash your arms around to escape but failed due to his harsh grip on you, pinning you down as he started to thrust it in 'n out, "Ahngh– Blade! I—I'm sorrrr....rrrrryy!"

You cried out leading him to go at a faster pace, practically pounding you while you started to feel blood trickle down onto your mouth, and wrists feeling like it was gonna snap in half with his tightening grasp.

"Fuck—" He grunted, "Shut up and take my cock like the bitch you are." You could hear his breathe hitch, struggling to properly breathe as he pulled your upper half over to his lips, pulling you into a messy kiss feeling his hot breathe harshly hitting at your face throwing your arms around his head,

He moved his head lower as he bit on your neck, sliding a finger down to your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion stimulating you harshly, "B—Blaaad..ddeeee!- it hurts–Ngh..— stop pleeas–seee...." Your relays having short intervals, moans mixing in slightly as he let go one of your bruised wrist that was clenching and clawing at the air, it felt like your back was going to snap in euphoria.

"Such a slut—telling me to stop yet you continue to clench down on my cock so tightly down there," He tugged on your hair, throwing your head back as you felt yourself nearing your climax, your nose bleeding vigorously yet he just licked it up, planting on a kiss on it—

—till you felt yourself release liquid flowing down onto the bed sheets, and throwing your back violently almost falling into the bed if he didn't wrap his arm around your waist, eyes rolling yet he began his pace again

"Nnooo... 's too much—" Whining as you felt his pulsating cock, shutting you up with a kiss before biting you at the cheek, and chest leaving hickeys—again feeling something thick yet liquidy fill you up inside as he paused, before doing another harsh slam into you flipping you over,

"Shouldn't really interrupt my first sleep in a long time too, y'know... You should pay the price for doing so." He flipped you over, shoving your head into the bed like he was trying to suffocate you, he propped your ass up into the air as a harsh spank landed...

Gonna be a long night, won't it? He was planning to do this to you first if you weren't going to anyway. Not like you had a choice...

——

[bills-wife-1]

heyyy can you write some smut where it's like enemies to lovers and you were smoking outside at night and then bill appears out of nowhere and started making fun of you for smoking then you bring up his smoking habits and it wasn't so fun anymore and you started arguing but eventually end up making out and more

Warnings: unprotected sex

Swearing, semi public (in a car)

A/n- Sorry if this like low key sucks I haven’t wrote in a long time and yea😭😭 (hope I did at least partly what you wanted)

Fuck you

It was about 11 pm, and I was currently standing outside of a huge house party that my best friend had somehow convinced me to go to, I’d much rather be home in my room, I felt insecure and just stressed out. I hate parties, but I’m doing it for her. I lit my cigarette and took a drag looking up at the sky, my friend had ditched me again for the fifth time already so I might as well just stay out here. I was lost in my thoughts until, I heard a voice. A voice I definitely didn’t want to hear right now. Bill. Kaulitz.

“Ooo someone’s not having a goodnight, why aren’t you inside loser? Too busy making your lungs black?”

He taunted.

“Can’t you fuck off? And what are you even talking about I know you smoke too, everyday after school coming to the gas station to get a new pack! At least I’m not addicted, I do it for stress relief!”

His face dropped.

“What the fuck, how did you even- you’re a liar!”

He started,

“I think you’re just mad that I know about your little secret..”

Bill grabs my arm looking at me with his angry brown eyes, his beautiful angry brown eyes. What am I thinking? I hate him. Right?

All of a sudden I was cut out of my thoughts by a pair of lips smashing onto mine, I was shocked but I eventually melted into it.

“Let’s go to my car, yea?”

He asks his voice soft and breathy.

“Mhm..”

We headed to his car and hopped into the back her layed on the seat and motioned for me to sit on his lap, we continued to make out, as I felt his tongue sneak into my mouth. I let out a small whimper.

I felt his arm sneak to my back and pull up my shirt, lifting it off of me. I was left in my skirt and my Lacey white bra. He looked at me with slanted eyes.

“You’re so gorgeous…”

He said breathing heavily.

I leaned down to kiss his neck, and I felt his arms sneak around behind me to unclip my bra,as I felt my bra slip off, my nipples hardening I started to feel a bit shy, trying to cover up but bill halted my movements,

“S’okay baby.. you look s’good..”

I looked him in the eyes as he leaned forward leaving harsh kisses on my breasts.

After a minute he lifts up his hips slipping his boxers and pants off at the same time.

Holy fuck.

He was huge. That was not gonna fit inside me.

“You okay hun?”

He asked with a soft tone.

“B-bill I don’t think.. I- that’s not gonna fit-“

I stuttered out

“It will baby.. don’t worry..”

“You’ll just have to get used to it.”

He replied.

“Uh- okay..”

After I replied I felt him ride up my skirt above my hips, and pull my panties to the side. He grabbed his length putting it right at my entrance.

“It might sting just a bit baby, but you’ll get used to it.”

Before I could reply I felt him push me down onto his length,

I immediately felt the stretch, I squeezed my eyes shut, catching my breath.

“You’re okay honey..”

he brushed my hair out of my face. We sat there for a second and then he asked,

“Can we move now?”

I slowly nodded and he helped me go up and down, it hurt but felt so good at the same time,

“Ooo shit… good girl..” he cooed

“Mm!”

Was all I could muster out.

“Fuck!” I squeaked quietly.

We started to go at a faster pace, I couldn’t control any nosies I was making at this point, they were just spilling out of my mouth,

“You’re doing so good honey, keep going, I’m almost there…”

“Ah! Fuck..” I moaned out

“Bill I’m gonna.. cum..”

I squeaked.

“Me too princess, do it with me..”

He said, out of breath

“Fuck fuck!” I moaned feeling the coil in my stomach snap, cumming

as I felt bill thrust into me a couple more times before releasing into me, luckily I was on birth control. We both lied there catching our breath before he spoke.

“You did s’good baby.. we should do it again sometime… would you want my number?”

He asked with a slight smirk.

“Sure!” I respond, and he gets a peice of paper writing it down as I got dressed, I picked up my phone and saw, 20 missed calls. From my best friend I completely forgot we were at a party.

“Shit! She’s probably lost somewhere..”

bill looks at you confused giving you the paper.

“Sorry, I completely forgot I was here with my friend, I gotta go! I’ll see you around and I’ll text you!!”

I said rushing out of the car

“Okay!”

Bill replied, he couldn’t ever remember why he hated her in the first place now.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

the one with the bathing suit (b.r.b.)

a/n: yeah.... i don't got an explanation. takes place in the flight risk universe

summary: The time Bradley saw Sunshine in a bathing suit and was allowed to do something about it.

warnings: suggestive themes/comments, bathing suits (because that's a warning in and of itself), swearing, brief mentions of insecurities, brief mention of body sizes, future Bradley and Sunshine, this is my nod to all my fellow vanderpump rules watchers, unedited

Bradley's hand slides into your own as the two of you enter the Target, the cool air hitting you as you enter the store. You slide the sunglasses up to sit atop of your head as you pause, figuring out where the Customer Service desk is.

"Thanks for coming with me." You say as you spot it, tugging Bradley along.

He hummed. "No problem, my love. Shame the pants didn't fit."

You rolled your eyes at the memory of trying them on for him after an impromptu shopping trip with Amelia the other day. The two of you'd bickered about whether or not you should keep them, the pants a hair too small to be comfortable.

Bradley, however, had appreciated how they had made your ass look.

("You say that about everything I wear." You'd said with a scoff. He'd only been able to offer you that cheshire grin of his.)

You let your eyes wander as the two of you wait in line. Target had just put out their selection bathing suits for the summer and you were somehow always surprised by the fact that they continuously got cuter every year.

Bradley squeezed your hand when he caught on to where you were looking. "I think you need a new suit, my love."

You roll your eyes as you step forward in line. "And where in the world would I wear it?"

"I think you forget you live in a beach town now, Sunshine. You'd get good use out of it."

You roll your eyes again as you step up to the desk. "You just want to see me in a bikini."

Bradley doesn't deny the point as the girl working the counter begins to process the return. You thank her as she returns the money to the card and exit the area, headed for the door. Bradley's hand in your own stops you, tugging you over to the bathing suit area.

"B..." You mutter, eyeing the bikinis anxiously. "I don't need to make myself insecure on purpose today."

"I'm looking for me, I don't know what you're talking about." He says, bypassing the bikinis into the much smaller one-piece section.

You snort as your eyes fall on a rosey-pink colored one-piece. "That's cute." You comment, rifling through the sizes. "Too bad they don't have one in my size."

"This one might fit." He says, pulling it from the rack.

You eye it nervously. It was adorable, with an open back and straps that were to die for. "There is no way in hell that'll hold up my boobs." You blurt out.

He grins. "Sure it could."

You shake your head, taking it from his hands and putting it back on the rack. "I hate bathing suits. Make me so insecure about my thighs."

He clears his throat. "Respectfully, my love, no one is looking at your thighs when you are wearing a bathing suit." His eyes roam over your body. "Much more distracting parts of you to look at." You shoot him a look, even as you feel your cheeks warm.

"We need toilet paper."

-

"I have a present." Bradley announces as he enters the house. "You're watching the new part of the reunion without me?! You said you'd wait!"

Your eyes flicker to the paused screen, Andy Cohen in the middle of proclaiming "My cards!"

"'M rewatching last week's episode."

Bradley's shoulders visibly deflate at the explanation, relieved you hadn't gone ahead and watched the reunion episodes about the Scandoval that had rocked the nation without him.

You smile, pushing yourself up on the couch. "Whatcha got?"

"I bought that bathing suit you were looking at this weekend."

Your face falls. "What?"

He holds his hands out, quick to soothe you. "You don't have to keep it if you don't like it." He rushes out. "But you didn't try it on, and it was cute, and you've been saying you needed a new suit anyways."

You sigh, pushing yourself off the couch and grabbing the Target bag from his hands. "I'll try it on." You say as you approach the stairs to go up to the bathroom. "But I really doubt it'll fit."

He follows you closely, sitting on the edge of the bed as you disappear into the bathroom to try it on. You take a deep breath, shedding your clothing to pull the material over your body.

You take another deep breath, nervously opening your eyes as you turn back to the mirror.

You... You don't hate it.

You tug at the straps, adjusting the top.

You actually really don't hate it.

The material is comfortable and does surprisingly fit. Your eyes flit nervously over your chest, fighting the urge to cover it up.

"You wanna see?" You call out.

"Obviously."

You take a calming breath, unlocking the bathroom door, slipping into the bedroom.

Bradley's eyes go wide as his jaw falls open. You roll your eyes, huffing out a nervous laugh. "Okay, B, don't gotta gawk."

He shakes his head. "Nuh-uh, 'm gonna."

You feel your cheeks warm as you struggle to look at him. "'S just a bathing suit. You've seen me in those before."

"Yeah, and this is the first time I actually get to do something about it. Sunshine, you look so fucking good." He says, his eyes still roaming your body. "Holy fuck, and I spent years not getting to appreciate you in one of these things. What the fuck was I thinking?"

You let out another nervous laugh, looking back down at your feet. You hadn't even remembered to take your socks off before trying the suit on, not even thinking Bradley would see the piece on you.

"How do you feel about it?" He asks after a minute, his voice much softer.

You shrug, finally raising your head to meet his gaze. "I don't... hate it."

He grins. "Yeah?"

You shrug, taking another step closer towards him. He reaches out for you, hands falling to your waist.

"I've always loved the way you look in a bathing suit Sunshine, but fuck." He says, gaze planting right on your chest.

You duck your head, cheeks growing even warmer. "Not always."

He tilts his head in disagreement, clearly remembering the lake day from your camping trip in college.

("Careful now, Bradshaw." Eli had said to him. "You spend too much longer appreciating her tits in that suit and you're gonna get punched in the mouth.")

"You gonna keep it?" He says, pulling you onto his lap.

You nod, letting out a breathe. "Yeah, I think so."

He grins, shuffling the two of you back further on the bed. "Perfect." He says, his hand gliding down your body. One plants itself firmly on your ass while the other makes it's way back up towards the straps. "Because now I get to do this," He says, tugging at the straps, letting it unravel. "Without worrying about having to return it."

He captures you in a searing kiss, hands coming up to push the material off of your body.

[the-ace-with-spades]

(I don't have the energy to make some cover tiles for this chapter but here it is for the people who read it on tumblr)

5 times Jake crossed paths with Fire Lieutenant Bradshaw and 1 time he met Maverick's son

Part Four | read on ao3

The Officer's Son | 1.6k

Jake is walking down the corridor, steps fast — he’s already late to the pre-flight briefing and Maverick seems laid back but he’s sure even he had limits.

He is marching through the whole building, passing an intersecting corridor and does a double take when he glances to the right. He is sure he’s imagined him, but he still stops mid-step and turns back around, takes a deep breath and he swears he hears Javy’s voice as he struts to his goal, suddenly disinterested in impressing Maverick. Act normal.

Because Bradshaw is standing in the middle of a corridor of NAS North Island.

If this ain’t fate, he doesn’t know what is.

“Didn’t know we had a fire inspection today,” he speaks out and instantly wants to hit his head on the nearby wall.

“Lieutenant,” he says only and then quirks an eyebrow at him, looking at the patch over his heart.  “Or should I say Hangman?”

Bradshaw puts his hand on his hip, cocking it to the side, and Jake bits down on his tongue.

He is wearing the uniform, that’s how Jake’s attention got caught in the first place, the dark blue pants and button up long-sleeved shirt. His broad shoulders are perfectly shaped in the tight fabric, straining to be confined, and the front where the buttons are is so form-fitting Jake could trace his abs with his fingertips.

His ass, finally clearly visible, is nice and round, and he bet he’d fit in Jake’s palm perfectly. The turnouts were sexy but god, he definitely prefers Bradshaw like this — coated in the uniform, buttons fighting on his chest, the SDFD patch on his huge bicep, and B. BRADSHAW in a bright white thread stretched out on his chest.

“Just Jake, for you,” he remarks, sending him a wink.

“Thought it was Jacob,” he says, eyes sparkling innocently, and mentally, Jake swears — he probably knows his middle name, too, just because he saw his driving licence. He needs to make him forget, somehow. “No inspections planned. That’s not my department, anyway.”

“Don’t know about that, you can inspect me any day,” he says and it’s cheesy and not his best shot but Bradshaw is smiling, the apples of his cheeks rounding up as he bites down on his lip.

Sounding amused, he asks, “Has that ever worked for you?”

“I don’t meet that many firefighters — you tell me,” he says as he takes a step closer. He needs to lift his chin to look him in the eyes but it’s so worth it.

The sun from outside, where the planes are standing in neat rows, shines through the window wall, and turns Bradhshaw’s eyes into dark amber, sprinkles of gold shining. He looks at Bradley and he locks their gazes, eyebrows raised lazily as he gives Jake a once over — his eyes go up and down his body and Jake straightens his back, cursing how unflattering the flight suit is.

Bradshaw's gaze is unreadable and Jake feels hot in the face as he clears his throat, every move so smooth, like he's doing all with the purpose of getting Jake more flustered.

It's working, if anything, because Jake's mind is somewhere in the clouds with his jet wash.

“Not much luck then,” Bradshaw tells him, finally, turning to face the elevator, giving his a good view of his side profile, the way his jaw twitches and the curve of his nose not letting Jake look away.

The light is stuck on level three, has been for a while now. 

“It probably broke again,” he remarks, just because he doesn’t know how to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah,” Bradshaw sighs, but the soft quirk of his lips is still there. “I know this model.”

Vaguely, Jake remembers him and his crew being called to elevator rescue right after Jake asked him for his number — which, even the memory makes him cringe.  

“Thought taking the stairs would be more of your thing,” he remarks.

It's a bit cliche but Bradshaw is a firefighter after all and he's goddamn fit. Jake would gladly follow him on the way up the stairs and enjoy every step and curves that would flash in front of him as those tight navy blue pants would stretch in all the right places.

“I only have clearance to go to level four, I can’t open the stairwell."

Jake bites down on the inside of his cheek, curious who Bradshaw is going to — they don’t often have civilians on base, even rarer ones that are allowed into venturing to level four, where most of the admiralty residents. “You have an officer waiting for you?”

“My dad forgot his lunch,” he says, raising up his right arm — Jake hasn’t noticed, but he’s got a thermal bag in his hand, neatly folded between his long fingers. “I’m bringing it in.”

“A bit out of your way,” he notes — Bradshaw’s station is in the north west of San Diego. “I could escort you up.”

“I think I’ll wait.” 

At this point, Jake is sure he’s just playing hard to get. Well, two can play the game — Jake’s never had anything easy in his life so be it.

“Or I could escort you outside,” he offers, voice turning low, thumb pointing behind himself, vaguely towards the rows of jets in the window behind his back. “My jet is right there, ready to be taken for a joyride.”

He doesn't know how he'd actually manage that — he's pretty sure Maverick is laid back enough to not dishonourably discharge him on the spot but he isn't sure he's big enough of Jake's fan to fight his case with Cyclone.

Well, to hell with it.

Bradshaw puts his arm back on his hip and he must be doing it on purpose — his arm looks so huge and his chest is puffed up, like he tries to hover over Jake with all the two inches he has on him. His bicep is so big Jake just wants to drape himself all over it and then maybe get it wrapped all over himself next.

Jake takes a step closer, meeting him headfirst, the dryness of his mouth suddenly so prominent as he can't clear his throat without making a ragged sound.

“Did Nat not tell you?” Bradshaw asks.

His cheeks warm up, feeling as stupid as the moment when Tasha told him Bradshaw’s a commercial pilot in his free time. He tries to not show it — it was a dumb thing but how could he have known? — and instead pretends he doesn’t get what Bradshaw’s getting at. “Tell me what?”

“That I can fly on my own, Lieutenant,” he says, the lazy, smooth voice is back, smudging the vowels on his tongue.

“Not in a fighter jet,” he counters. “I bet you’ve never seen one up close, not to mention sit in one in action.”

The elevator opens.

Bradshaw turns to him, just a little, and shuffles closer on his feet, just a bit, enough that he can feel the warmth of his breath, before he swivels again, gracefully stepping into the elevator compartment as he says, that slow, unbothered voice penetrating Jake's lungs, “You’d be surprised."

Jake makes himself breathe again, blinking the tension out of his body. Tries to play cool, tries to cock his hips out and give him a look from behind his eyelashes, but it all feels so clumsy.

“Hey, the offer is still on. Maybe I’ll even let you pull the stick.”

Bradshaw raises an eyebrow, slowly and pointedly as he licks his lips, and swaps his visitor pass on the key panel. “Which kind?”

Bradley closes the elevator before Jake can step in.

He could catch up with him, take the stairs and meet him on level four, probably, but that is starting to sound stalkerish and obtrusive, even for Jake's asshole methods. Not to mention that he could easily run into Maverick up there or worse — into whichever senior officer that's Bradshaw's father. He doesn't remember seeing Admiral Bradshaw anywhere in the commanding list but he isn't stretching his luck when there's not much of it in the first place.

He goes to the ready room, sits down next to Javy and tries to pretend everything is alright.

Thankfully, Maverick isn’t there yet.

Javy raises his eyebrow, awaiting some explanation. 

“So,” Jake says when Javy doesn’t stop staring at him like that. “Bradshaw—”

“Your firefighter?”

“He’s not—” Javy raises his eyebrow higher. “I saw him, like, ten minutes ago.”

“On base?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, only now encoding what has happened. What he’s learned about Bradshaw. “His dad is an officer, apparently.”

“What? How do you know?”

“He was bringing lunch to someone on level four,” he explains.

Javy’s eyes widen and he whistles under his breath, looking like Jake’s situation is making his day. Amused, he remarks what Jake is mentally panicking about, “So at least senior, maybe flag officer.”

“Yeah.”

“Oof,” is all Javy adds. “Good luck.”

"It's not like I'm going to meet him again, right?" he says, but he doesn't sound so sure even to his own ears.

Javy doesn't answer anything because Maverick finally walks in and they both stand up at attention.

Maybe it's fate, after all, that he sees Bradshaw everywhere, even here, but even fate runs out of ideas at some point.

[slytherhys]

hi! i have a request for your november prompts! elriel nsfw with prompt B. "I'm afraid of the dark."

maybe elain comforting azriel at night, if you know what i mean? wink wink

A/N: I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this, so forgive me if you don't like it

TW: Explicit Sexual Content | 1.3k words

The Light In Your Dark - An Elriel Oneshot

Elain blinked her weary eyes against the darkness, trying to make sense of why, exactly, she was waking up in what seemed to be the middle of the night. A series of tangled thoughts raced through her mind, none of them making any sense whatsoever – but then again, she had only fallen asleep moments ago from the looks of it.

Her body was sore yet sated, her heart rested easily inside her chest, the result of a night well spent in Azriel’s arms, where soft, mellow words had been exchanged, where her love felt lonely no more. For the first time since she came out of the Cauldron something had finally settled inside of her at the words that had left the Illyrian’s lips, at the care that spilled out of his eyes when he gazed at her. It was no surprise she had easily fallen into a fitful sleep, no surprise at all that, for the first time in months, no terrors had visited her during the night.

She just wasn’t sure the same could be said of Az.

A sharp gasp startled her, making her finally turn her heavy body around, only to be met with darkness. Not that of the night, but a different one; one that was more familiar than not. She could barely see the man that it covered.

“Az?” She called gently, her voice raspy from sleep, as she sit up slowly, trying not to startle him. She wasn’t sure how to proceed; this had never happened before – the nights they had clandestinely shared a bed, little sleep had been involved. Not anymore. And certainly, never again though. So she reached for him, hoping her touch would somehow soothe whatever raced through his mind that had his eyes widening as he stared into nothing.

No answer came, only heavy pants threatened the eerie silent that surrounded her. She could barely make out his hand, but she reached for it nonetheless, knowing in her heart that nothing would ever happen to her – not where Azriel was concerned.

“Azriel?” She repeated, brushing her fingers across his scarred hands – as beautiful as they had always been. The shadows seemed to retreat slightly as Azriel peered up at her, his expression barely visible under the darkness. His skin was lacklustre, glistening with sweat as he panted. Elain smiled, her other hand tentatively reaching for his cheek – his eyes wide and set on her face the entire time. He furrowed his brows, blinking repeatedly as if clearing out whatever had clouded his mind.

“Elain?” He called, voice dark as midnight.

“My love,” she inched closed, smiling sadly as she pressed herself against his body. “What’s wrong?”

But Azriel simply watched her. Elain could barely make out the light of the lamp on his bedside table, the shadows around it dimming further as they turned into something else. She paid them no mind though, her eyes never leaving his. She wasn’t entirely sure what plagued him, but she would help him, nonetheless.

Waiting for an explanation she knew would come, she pressed her lips against his cheek, her hands wrapped around his clenched fists. His heart was beating erratically fast, but his breathing was thankfully slowing down.

He uncurled his fist, gently resting her hand against his leg before reaching for her hair. Elain was sure it looked like a mess, but Azriel didn’t seem to care as he pushed it away, his eyes never leaving hers. He took a deep breath, as if readying himself for the words he was about to speak.

She knew he was still getting used to opening up after centuries of mystery, so she was grateful for every word he shared with her. Every secret.

“I’m afraid of the dark.” He muttered; his eyes closing. Confusion clouded her mind, but Elain remained silent – she knew well enough how it was to have your own fears questioned and she did not wish it on the beautiful man in front of her. Asking questions would only lead to pain.

She felt his other hand uncurl, reaching for hers as he spoke again. Elain let him hold her. “You yield your demons and you’ll be their master; not the other way around.” He said, as if answering an unspoken question, closing his eyes as if in pain. Elain frowned, watching him carefully.

Azriel’s hand dropped from her hair, trying to pull away from her. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this.” He muttered, his brows furrowing as he stared at her other hand – the one that remained wrapped around his. “I wasn’t supposed to feel like this anymore.” He gulped, looking up at her. “Not with you by my side.”

Elain shook her head, brushing his hair away from his face as she felt her heart break.

How many centuries had Azriel endured such pain? Such terrors haunting him every night when darkness settled. Had he ever felt comfort? Had he ever felt safe? His shadows were not his demons, they were both aware of that, but it wasn’t the time to get into that. Elain could see in the way his shoulders tensed, in the frigid way he held himself, as if loosening up would only break him, that tonight wouldn’t be the night they would talk of such things.

Tonight, he needed light – and there was nothing that would stop her from giving it to him.

She reached him, a tentative hand reaching out to trail down his tattooed arm. He grabbed it instead, stopping her before she could even begin.

“Maybe you should go.” He whispered, his eyes growing colder as he watched her. She wouldn’t let him run from her. Not again.

“Do you want me to?” She asked shyly, not entirely sure how she would react if he said yes. They were so new, a young flame that risked going out with a fleeting whisper - she refused to let it.

“It’s not something I’m strong enough to want.” He said instead, and it was as if something unwound inside her chest. She took a deep breath, pushing up to her knees. Azriel’s gaze snapped to her legs, waiting for her next move.

“Then let me take your mind away, Az.” She said as she settled a leg next to his hip, straddling him in his lap. Azriel’s eyes hooded as his hands immediately reached for her waist, and that touch alone was enough to have Elain ready to take him. “Let me love you.” She whispered against his lips, kissing him as she had done for months now; as she would do for the rest of their lives. A sweet promise that there was no letting go.

No fabric stood between them – not after they had fallen asleep with tangled, sweaty limbs, his hand brushing her hair, her fingers trailing gentle words against his skin – so Elain held on to his shoulders as she kissed his lips, her center grinding against his hardening member, coating it with her arousal. She whimpered as she felt him enter her, stretching her beyond pleasure. His hands guided her up and down his length as delicious groans escaped his full lips. Elain’s entire body lit up like the Starfall sky under his touch, his pubic bone brushing against her clit with every thrust and making her toes curl against the sheets. His scarred hands brushed her skin, not leaving one inch untouched. It had been seconds, minutes, hours of his length pounding into her – Elain couldn’t know for sure – but as she clamped around his cock, feeling him spill inside of her with her name spilling from his parted lips, Elain bring herself to care.

She panted, coming down from her high as she leaned against his sitting form, his member still inside of her. Light seemed to burst inside of her – all because of the male that loved her back.

And if he was afraid of the dark, she would spend her nights showing him just how much light he gave her – if only so he could take some of it back.  

[narrators-journal]

another ryomina but w 5 and 12 (:

I can’t promise this is very good, but it’s one of two Ryomina asks, so I’m taking it as a chance to just purely INDULGE with my thoughts on RyoMina. So, Nyx is sort of treated like Ryoji’s mom, and canonicity is acknowledged, but loose. I hope you all enjoy this one too <3

Kinktober prompt list: Here

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Breeding, gentle breathplay, at least implied pet play, rough sex, Ryoji’s kinda a slut lol.

Creaking, slapping, sighs and moans. The weight of a body on top of him, and another settling over his mind, the warmth of impatient breath’s fanning out across his skin, the fingers pressing against the back of his neck as Minato held the god’s collar. Everything felt like too much, but nowhere near enough at the same time. Even after the blue-haired man was given to him until the seal was no longer needed, Ryoji still couldn’t get enough of Minato’s touch.

The scent of clean laundry and lavender, the unyielding onslaught of stomach-clenching pleasure, the guttural growls of, “good boy…” “You're taking me so well….” panted into his ear as he clawed into the rumpled sheets of the bed, it was intoxicating. Like the powerful wildcard exuded some aphrodisiac, or...whatever other drug wiped out any thought in a person's head.

Ryoji couldn’t be bothered to think of one to fit that description at the moment. Not with Minato clawing into his hips, biting at his neck like a cat in heat, trapping the god in place as he slammed into him at a ruthless, thorough pace that sent shockwaves of painful pleasure and an erotic powerlessness that turned Ryoji’s muscles fork tender and swept away any coherent thought beyond breed, breed, breed.

A, clearly, out of place urge in the man’s head. But...the longer Minato had him tripped in deliciously demeaning torment, the stronger that desire grew. Feeding the flames of the lustful forest fire already in his belly, and drawing out more whines and needy cries, “B-breed me! Breed me, Mina, please!” He begged, gasping slightly when the blue-haired man suddenly halted his thrusting and grabbed the back of his collar to pull his head back. Restricting Ryoji’s oxygen as he hummed with an edge of amusement in his lazy voice, “What was that, nightshade?” the god able to feel him grin when he shuddered at his husky question, “Breed...me.” He repeated, doing his best to look into his lover’s stormy eyes with his best submissive, pleading look, “Please?”

For a long moment, Ryoji could only blink blearily, wheezing breaths through the pull of his thick collar. Minato looked into his lust-dulled eyes in silence until, “Man, you really don’t have a single other thought in that head of yours, do you?” At that, the brunette did his best to nod, the lack of air seeping into his head to thicken the haze. Which, he was sure Minato could see, judging from the small smile tugging at the man’s lips before he finally released the collar and let Ryoji flop back onto the mussed bedding, gulping down air and moaning at the headrush that replaced the sluggishness.

Laying there, his legs shaking, Minato’s arms on either side of his shoulders, the god of death tried to scrape together enough coherent thoughts to be at all ashamed of his position. Laying on his belly, with a mortal buried hilt-deep in his ass. Letting a piece of prey turn his mind into mush, and pleading to somehow get a kid from him. Nyx would be disgusted with her avatar, for sure.

It made the coil in Ryoji’s belly tighten.

Tightening further when Minato lowered himself so that his chest was pressed to Ryoji’s back, his lips leaving a warm trail of feather-light kisses from the base of the brunette’s neck to his ear, where he almost purred. “You want me to breed you, nightshade?~” In a dangerously honeyed tone that made the god whine like a whore, “Yes! Pleash!” “Do you?” He asked again, his words thrumming against Ryoji’s skin as he spoke, all while grinding into his lover’s ass to get more mindless moans and slurred pleas from him.

Only satisfied when the brunette was begging and squirming beneath him. Kept from moving his hips to get even a crumb more of friction by the hand Minato kept at his hip. “Okay, handsome. Calm down.” He said with a breath of a laugh.

With that, he returned to humping into Ryoji. Trading his more feral, fast pace for one that would make the mindless man beneath him jolt with each thrust. Bracing himself by keeping one hand on Ryoji’s hips, and putting his other one on his shoulder. Not that Ryoji was prone to escaping, the god was reduced to little more than a mindless whore, muttering out, “Please...please, breed...please, please...breed me…” amidst the lewd noises he let out more and more the tighter the coil in his stomach got. Until, with a damn near howl, a powerful burst of heat turned the god’s vision white.

However, as the warmth of his own seed subsided on his stomach, and Ryoji could get air back into his lungs, he found that the warmth in his belly wasn’t fading the same way. Taking too long to register as the warm fullness of his lover filling him with his own cum. “Mina…?” He mumbled, almost unintelligible after his orgasm had swept away his energy like a tsunami. A state the wildcard seemed to be in as well, laying on the brunette, his face buried in his neck as he regained his composure. “Are...you okay?”

The blue-haired man gave a grunt in confirmation, running a hand up the god’s soft side affectionately before he mumbled, “I’ll clean you up later. Cuddles first.” Which, Ryoji nodded at. Letting the man pull him down and wrap his strong arms around him. The softer kisses and his simple company in the mess of blankets, sheets, and pillows gave the brunette that same buzz and warmth that he enjoyed.

A nice end to such a feral night of fun.

[somnambulants]

i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with exes to lovers with nat?

word count: 3.9K notes: thanks for the request! i’m glad you like my writing! i also may...have started thinking about writing a second part because im super attached to this fic. let me know if thats something you guys would be interested in!

“Barton, you’re such a –“

Your world stops turning at the sound of that voice, everything else becoming static. It doesn’t matter that you’re standing in a room full of people that you’re supposed to be impressing.

It’s been over ten years since you’d last heard that voice.

Vaguely, you know that Captain America is speaking to you but the only thing you can pay attention to is her.

You turn slowly, and the second you lay eyes on her you know for sure.

It’s definitely her.

You see it the second she spots you too.

In all the time you’d known her, she’d always been so much more proficient at hiding things than you but you still see the way her eyes widen as she takes you in and the way her face shifts into something that resembles shock before she manages to mask it.

“Nat!”

You startle a little, having now somehow completely forgotten that Captain America was next to you and that you were in the middle of a tour of your new workplace the second you’d landed eyes on her.

Oh god.Your new workplace.

Your new workplace that was also clearly her workplace.

As she approaches, you futilely look for every possible way you can escape. “This is Y/N. Fury’s informant while Agent Emery is on reconnaissance. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha? Romanoff? Absurdly, you have the sudden urge to laugh.

She really couldn’t have come up with a better name after fleeing the country all those years ago? It’s a surprise to you that you hadn’t heard about her sooner with that alias.

Pushing that thought away and hoping that your face shows the professionalism you’re trying to convey, you straighten your spine and clear your throat. “Nice to meet you.”

Captain America’s eyes flick between the both of you. Maybe you’re not doing as good a job as you’d thought.

Natalia-Natasha takes the hand you extend to her and shakes it. “Likewise,” she says, and you hate the way your body still reacts to her voice all these years later; hate the way her touch still makes you feel.

Even more so, you hate that you don’t know what it is you’re feeling more of as you look into her eyes: fury or heartbreak.

She makes a flimsy –well flimsy to you – excuse and leaves the conversation after that. You watch her walk away, clenching the hand she’d touched into a fist as you resist the urge to put it through the wall next to you.

Somehow you think you’d have a hard time explaining it to the man still standing next to you, who is now watching you with a thoughtfully puzzled but not suspicious expression.

Not yet, anyway.

--

Your dreams that night are fitful and full of her. The first time you’d met, you’d been nothing more than children.

There are no children in red room though. Only fighters and a fighter, she definitely was.

You? Not so much. You’d never been designed to last more than a day in that place and you wouldn’t have, if not for her.

Natalia throws you back against the mat, again and then again and again. Each time you stand up with more difficulty until eventually, she throws you down so hard your vision blurs for a second.

You never had a chance against her, something you knew before you even stepped foot into the room and you know they must have known that too when they set you up against the most experienced fighter here.

It’s abundantly clear you’ve been set up to fail.

The next time she hits you, your legs give out beneath you and you can’t bring yourself to get up this time, even though you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.

You know how this works.

Bracing yourself for impact, you close your eyes and wait. It’s pathetic. You know.

The final blow never comes. When you finally crack open an eye, you find Natalia, arms crossed, just gazing down at you.

It might have been your imagination but her eyes don’t seem quite as hard as they had been before.

She extends a hand after a second of her just watching you and you watching her. A little part of you is convinced it’s a trick; that the second you take her hand, you’re going to fail whatever test this is.

Still, against your better judgement you take her hand and, rather than the macabre images playing out in your mind, instead she actually helps you stand, surprisingly gentle as she does so.

She gives you a second to reorient yourself and then her whole demeanour changes, turning cold and stiff as she crouches down back into a fighting position.

“Try again.”

Just as abruptly, you’re thrown into another and another. Quick flashes of the past that still haunt you.

Natalia taking you on your first mission.

Natalia holding your hand as you cried over the body of the first man you’d killed.

Natalia lying beside you on your mattress, running her hands through your hair gently when your nightmares became so bad you’d go days without sleeping.

Years and years of training. Years of bruises and broken bones. Mission after mission. Somehow, it’s all maybe not-quite worth it but it almost is – almost – because of her.

When you kiss her for the first time, you think that might be the first time either of you has had any control over what you do with your bodies. 

You can't remember a time where you'd had something you'd ever wanted and you wanted her so badly.

You can’t get enough of it. Or her.

And then, one day, you wake up and she’s just... gone. 

--

The next morning, feeling irritable and exhausted from your disturbed sleep, you walk into the avengers training room and find the one person you’d been hoping wouldn’t be there.

Of course, your mind spitefully whispers because of course it wasn’t enough for the universe to thrust her back into your life but it had to throw her in your face too.

When you enter, she has her back to you but you know she knows you’re there by the way her back stiffens slightly.

You watch as she stands up straighter at the words you throw at her back, unable to help yourself: “What is this? Babysitting duty? I think we’re passed that, aren’t we?”

She turns to you. “I usually come here early,” is all she says. She doesn’t respond to the bite in your voice.

You make a non-committal sound and then just decide to ignore her, stomping past her to make your way to the far corner of the room. You work by yourself in peace for about ten minutes before you hear the sound of footsteps and all of a sudden she’s in front of you.

“I need a partner,” she says. 

You have the urge to laugh in her face, before it strikes you how cathartic it would be to punch her right now, no matter how childish it might be, so you stand, letting the weight you’d been holding drop back to the floor with a loud thud, and follow her across the room.

You both crouch down in anticipation and you take a second to really look at her.

Her expression is unreadable. The pang you feel when you realise that surprises you.

There had been a time when you’d known her like the back of your hand and now she's nothing more than a stranger standing in front of you.

It hurts a lot more than you’d thought it would.

--

This continues for weeks. You don’t know why you let it happen but you do. You get up early; you go to the gym; you spar with her and then you fulfil the duties you’d been hired to do.

It’s almost easy to slip back into that headspace of your whole life revolving around her. Because it does. All you do is think about her when you’re not around her.

Over those weeks, you still barely speak a word to her because at least if you don’t speak, you have some kind of power.

To your surprise, she lets you ignore her, lets you pretend you don’t hear her whenever she speaks and you resent her a little more for that. You’d rather she hated you as much as you want to hate her.

It would make it all so much easier.

--

Eventually, though, you break.

You’re not strong enough to ignore your desire to know everything; to know how she’d ended up here. And why she’d clearly cared enough to stick around and try and save the entire world when you, a single person, hadn’t even been worth enough for her to stay.

“Why,” you pant, mid spar one morning. She’s kicking your ass, as usual. “Why here? Why the avengers?”

You’d sworn to yourself you’d never ask her this question but the yearning to know has been burning inside you since you’d walked into this building over a month ago now.

Equally as breathless, Natasha drops the careful façade she’d had up and looks at you with those eyes; the ones that could have made you do anything at one point in time. You’re not convinced they still couldn’t. “I wanted to do better… be better than what we were…. Isn’t that why you’re here, too?”

That answer hurts you more than any of the hits she’s landed on you this morning. And there’s been a lot. She’s still the superior fighter, even if she had left so long before you.

God, those words hurt to hear. Especially to have you lumped in with the clearly bad part of her life, whether it was her intention or not.

Maybe that’s why you say what you say next. Maybe there’s a little part of you wishes this whole situation would hurt her as much as it hurts you.

“How… uncharacteristic of you,” you ignore the last part of her sentence because honestly: you don’t know why you’re here. You feel like you’ve been lost and drifting your whole life and the only thing that had ever made sense to you was her.

You know your bitterness has bled into your voice with your words but you don’t make any effort to mask it. And if you can hear it, she definitely can too.

In the blink of an eye, she stops sparring with you, straightening up quicker than even you can catch. You let out a breathless huff of air as she grabs the front of your shirt pulling it so you’re forced forward until you’re almost nose to nose with her.

You hate that for a split second, before you can control yourself, you lean in slightly. As much as your mind can’t stand her, your body has no such feelings and it still wants her. You know you have no hope of hiding it from her so you don’t even bother.

“You don’t know me,” she says. The words come out of her mouth fiercely but the look in her eyes is soft, beseeching, like she wants you to hear her. “I'm not that person anymore.”

Like it matters.

It’s like you’re suspended in time for a second, and all you can think of as you look into her eyes is of the woman you knew.

You hate that you still miss her.

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes that you want to believe mirrors the torrent of emotions currently taking over you – the sadness, the anger, the grief – but you know better than to have hope when it comes to her.

You know all too well how it ends. And you’ve had enough of false hope.

Typically, in a fight, you know Natasha would come out on top – has every time -- but she’s never had your anger directed at her the way it is now and she isn’t expecting the way you’re practically vibrating with it as you shove her away, so hard that she stumbles backwards, only just managing to stay on her feet.

“Clearly,” you spit at her as you straighten up, and start walking towards the exit.

You know she’s still just standing there in the same spot. You can feel her eyes on you.“Yeah, run away,” she mutters under her breath.

It’s the first time she’s shown you the attitude you’d been giving her for weeks and her reaction is justified, you can admit it, but you don’t care.

You spin around, fury overtaking you as you advance on her until you’re pinning her against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” you hiss, glaring into her eyes. “I forgot you’re the only one who can do that.”

“That was different.”

You laugh. It’s not a nice one. It sounds like an injured animal trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. 

“Why? Because it was you doing it? Excuse me for not being —“

All of a sudden, she’s kissing you. Or you’re kissing her.

Either way, you’re kissing and you don’t know how exactly it happened but you know that you can’t get enough of her; can’t get her close enough even though there’s no longer even an inch of space between you.

She flips your positions, tugging you closer, and you’re abruptly bathed in cool air as she rips your shirt off you, shoving you against the wall.

Your heart picks up rapidly as she kneels in front of you, easing the rest of your clothes off in one fluid moment.

“I hate you. So much,” you tell her as you step out of your pants and it’s not convincing even to you. Still, you repeat it again and again as she kisses down your body – so tenderly and gently that your voice starts to wobble.

You hate it. You hate her.

She looks up at you from in between your legs, now on her knees. It’s such a vulnerable position that you find you can’t look at her and you have to close your eyes. Natasha digs her nails into your thighs as she forces them apart.

“Look at me,” she demands. Her grip tightens until you obey; you know you’re going have crescent shaped bruises tomorrow. Her gaze is soft and tender and just all consuming. You know there’s no coming back from it. You’d never had a chance, even back when you didn’t mind not having one. “Don’t look away.”

You don’t, not even when she finally, finally, touches you and your head falls back against the wall. 

You hold her gaze the entire time knowing how incredibly stupid this is and not caring at all about how much you’ll regret it later when you’re thinking straight.

--

And regret it, you do.

You stop working out early. You walk the other way in the halls if you see her. You know people are catching on that something is going on between the both of you; have caught multiple avengers giving you quizzical looks whenever you’re in the same room and it makes you feel even worse than before.

You channel all that regret into something more meaningful and commit to doing a damn good job at what you were actually here for. And you do. You can admit you do a fantastic job.

Every time you hand a report in or come back from a mission, you swear see a glimmer of approval in Fury’s eyes. Something you’d heard was notoriously hard to come by.

You must have done something really shitty in a past life though because after weeks of throwing yourself into your temporary duties, you walk into your temporarily office and are immediately flagged down by Fury, who debriefs you on the details of a mission he’s sending you on.

You’re thrilled for about three seconds until you see the name of the person you’re going with.

Agent Natasha Romanoff.

Fury is looking at you with a scrutinising expression when you look up from the file. Every time he looks at you it’s like he can see inside your soul. “Is that a problem?”

You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile. “Of course not, sir.”

--

It is a problem. A big problem, in fact.

You don’t speak to her on the flight there. Even though it’s only the two of you confined in the aircraft. You don’t even so much let yourself look at her. You can feel her looking at you multiple times, though, even though she’s piloting and should only be looking at the course in front of you.

There are no words exchanged between you all day beyond the times you absolutely have to speak. 

At least not until you reach the tiny hotel room you’d been given.

The second the door closes behind you both, she turns to you and opens her mouth and maybe it’s cowardly but you cut her off before she even start speaking.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you say and flee the room with your entire carry-on, worried that if you pause to sift through your things, she’ll keep talking.

Still in the same spot, the look on Natasha’s face when you emerge from the bathroom is full of clear exhaustion. You hate the way it makes you feel. Empty. Sad. It’s exhausting for you trying to convince yourself you hate her.

“I’m sorry I left,” she says and you freeze. “I wanted to come back. Find you. I just didn’t know - i didn’t know if you even wanted me to.”

You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Now you have you don’t know what to do. “Why did you leave?”

She hesitates. The look in her eyes tells you you’re not going to get a full answer. That as open as she’s trying to be, you still don’t get to know why she abandoned you. “It’s a long story.”

The evasion stings. “An apology means nothing if you won’t tell me why.”

It’s an unfair thing to say. You know that but you don’t really feel like being fair right now.

You chance a look up when she doesn’t respond and find her looking down at the floor. It makes you wonder what — or who — she must still be protecting by not telling you. 

It becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else after the silence between you drags on long enough that the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable.

You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the tears in your eyes so you flick the light off and turn the lamp on your shared nightstand off, throwing the both of you into immediate darkness. It’s definitely too early to be sleeping but you don’t care.

Eventually, after laying there rigidly for what feels like hours and listening to the sounds of Natasha tossing and turning in the other bed, you finally fall asleep and are immediately thrown into dream after dream that quickly turn into fitful nightmares.

Nightmares that may be more aptly called memories. After one particularly bad one that thrusts you back into consciousness, you bolt upwards, still half asleep. 

You only narrowly manage to avoid bumping straight into Natasha, who’s hovering above you, because of her hand on your shoulder holding you in place.

You flinch away from her instinctively and she backs up to give you a little space.

The only sound in the room is your heavy and desperate gasping for air. Natasha, now perched on the very edge of the bed, bites her lip, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

She probably does. It doesn’t take a genius to guess.

“Are you –"

“I’m fine,” you say flatly. You stare up at the ceiling, absently counting the tiles as you try to slow your breathing.

You’re hyperventilating, you know it, you just can’t get yourself to stop. You’re also sweating, it’s disgusting. You can feel how all of your clothes are stuck to you. Your hair flattened to your neck.

If you hadn’t been dealing with this for so long, you’re pretty sure that you’d think you were having a heart attack instead of a panic attack.

But you have. Been dealing with it. It’s just something you’ve come to expect now. You just never thought she’d be here to witness it.

All of a sudden, as you’re still trying to calm your breathing, the bed dips below you.

Your eyes fly open in shock to find Natasha sliding onto the mattress beside you, still on top of the covers.

Gingerly, she rests her head on the pillow next to your head and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.

It’s slight but her hand brushes against your own a few minutes later.

You suck in a breath between your teeth, but despite yourself, you let her move closer, until she’s so close you’re almost touching, and you can hear her quiet breathing.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes slip closed again. Seeming to understand you’re not going to push her away, Natasha shifts closer, until you’re both shoulder to shoulder, the way she used to lay next to you when you had bad dreams when you were kids.

She grabs your hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she moves it to her chest where you can feel her heart thrumming rapidly under your fingertips. Surprisingly, it still works; you breathe in and out, in out in out, in time with her heartbeat.

You must at some point fall asleep because all of a sudden you can hear birds chirping outside the window and the sounds of people outside in the street.

When you open your eyes, you expect to find the spot next to you empty and the covers unruffled, as if she’d never been there at all but to your shock she’s still there beside you, awake and on top of the covers.

The circles under her eyes make you think she must not have slept at all.

You slide out of the bed and head towards the bathroom without saying a word, where you turn the shower on and just sit under the spray for what must be at least an hour, letting the water run over you and trying not to think.

This time when you return, she’s gone.

--

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. If nothing else, you both work well together as a team. You can still read her movements like a book, and she knows to anticipate what you’re doing before you even know yourself.

The days go fine. The nights not so much. You don’t speak about it but every night you’re woken up by the same dreams and every night you wake up to find her kneeling beside you.

If you were stronger willed, you would’ve shoved her away the first time, but you can’t bring yourself to. Maybe it’s a little selfish but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

The last night of the mission is when you finally break, though. Something shifts in the air when you wake yourself up gasping and meet her eyes. The same eyes that had been blank and lifeless in your dream. 

You know she feels the shift as well by the way she’s looking at you, cautiously hopeful.

You don’t say anything though and neither does she. You just lay there, side by side, and watch each other carefully for what could be seconds, or it could be hours.

Her eyes are begging wordlessly: Truce?

Despite yourself, as you gaze back at her, you find yourself giving in. For tonight at least.

Truce.

[mypoisonedvine]

hi hope you feel not-depressed soon bub 🥺 I really liked claimed because andy barber and abo is the hot shit im into so for a drabble maybe andy being rough and feral with reader during her heat and a sprinkle of ✨breeding kink✨ perhaps

thank you!! I hope so too lol

been a while since i wrote for andy so we'll see if I still have his character down lmao!! very filthy a/b/o breeding nsfw below the cut!

"m'not gonna be gentle," he warned as he unbuckled his belt hastily, "I can't."

you whimpered as you nodded, too lost in the sickly-sweet heat swirling in your brain to say out loud that you didn't care if he was gentle-- you just needed him now.

his cock was already throbbingly hard when he pulled it out, and you whined as you licked your lips. "shh," he soothed, kneeling down, "you're gonna get it, baby, I'm gonna give you all this cock, okay?"

"alpha, please," you choked, your body somehow fighting to spread your legs even further even though it was physically impossible; you were already on full display for him in the puddle of slick you'd made on the bed, arching your back and rocking your hips up into nothing to show off your sopping, needy cunt.

you cried out happily when he shoved himself inside you, all in one go. "fuck, that was easy," he breathed, "normally I don't fit on the first try, remember? I'm usually too big for you, but I guess your heat got this pussy all sloppy for me, huh?"

whining, you tried to move your hips to force some friction, but he held your hips still with a strong hand; even such a small show of force-- of domination, of his strength that made you helpless to him-- made your hole clench around his cock.

that was when he lost it: he pinned you down at your shoulders and started to rail you senselessly, grunting and growling each time he slammed all the way in, breathing through his teeth and flaring his nostrils. he looked monstrous like this, like everything terrifying about alphas all at once, and you shuddered in raw, primal pleasure at the sight.

"my omega," he reminded you, "my omega-- mine. gonna breed you and fill this cunt up 'til you've got my babies in you. how's that sound?"

you just moaned pathetically, not able to do much else anymore.

"you're gonna be pregnant, that's what you want, right?" he continued, taunting. "need your alpha's seed nice and deep? you wanna be my little breeding bitch?"

crying again, you nodded vigorously, sobbing when he fucked you harder.

"okay, baby, but I'm not gonna stop," he promised, "I'm gonna keep going until your heat's gone and you're so full of come you can't even think. don't get mad at me when you're knocked up and big 'cause you forgot your pills... you know I can't resist you when you're in your heat, cryin' all pretty for me..."

"please, please," you panted, "just come-- come in me, breed me, alpha..."

"yeah, like that," he smiled, "tell me whose you are again?"

"alpha!"

"that's what I thought."

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Red Room

Summary: Meeting Yelena in the red room is the best and worse thing that’s ever happened to you. Warning: romantic Yelena x Fem!reader pairing and depictions of violence.

Those first weeks in the red room pass in a blur. You have one room. Just you. Meals are delivered like clockwork; no one speaks to you. Your only company being the television set that plays the same clips; morning, noon and night.

Until one day the lights flip on brightly above you and a woman enters. You squint up at her, “hello?”

“Hello.” She replies, “are you ready to get out of here?”

“Where will I go?” You wonder.

“Wherever I tell you.”

That is your first encounter with Madame B. When you were younger you thought her something of a savior. You know better now. Still when she calls for you, there’s no choice but to go.

You make your way down the long hall, florescent lights humming above you. Finally reaching the room you’ve been assigned; you grasp the door knob. Feeling the weight of the cool metal against your palm, with a steadying breath you turn it.

Inside is only Madame B and a girl. One you’ve only seen in passing, one of Dreykov’s favorites.

“Y/N, meet Yelena. She will be your partner from now on.” Madame B leads the introduction.

“Did something happened to Oksana?” Your brows pull together, voice small. Afraid to cross an unspoken boundary. She’s always been your partner.

“Oksana is no longer your concern.” The woman bites out. “Shake hands and prepare for your lesson.”

You nod, biting your tongue.

Lesson…

Sparring.

Dancing.

Captive simulations.

What will it be this time?

“Oksana is ok.” Yelena tells you, once the trainer is out of earshot.

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand out to shake without another word.

“Is that why they kept you locked up so long? You don’t play well with others?” The blonde takes your hand, eyes narrowed into slits.

“I don’t play at all.” You inform her. Pleasing these people is your ticket out of here, and you will get out.

“Everybody plays, whether you want to or not.” Yelena tells you, letting your fingers slip from hers. “Just don’t get in my way.”

——————————————————————-

You don’t get in each other’s way. Somehow having Yelena as a combat partner is a lot less annoying than you anticipated.

Oksana is a better friend, but you aren’t here to make friends. You’re here to kill. Topple regimes from the inside out, Yelena helps you do that.

Your training with Yelena is different. Chipping away parts of you until you fit together seamlessly. From trust falls to synchronized attack plans, you name it you do it. Sometimes until you bleed.

One of your trainers, Ivan, has taken a liking to blind folded direction. Outside of captive simulations it is your least favorite team building activity.

You remind yourself to focus and breathe. In some ways guiding is worse than being guided. “Veer slightly to your right.”

Yelena lifts one bare foot, holding it airborne, allowing you to assess the placement of her next step. “Here?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, as she clears the bit of shattered glass. “That’s perfect.”

———————————————————————

Your first real assignment comes on Monday, June second.

“Come in, Miss American Pie. I have eyes on the target.” Yelena informs you through the ear piece.

“That’s still not my name, over. Stay high, I’m going down.” You reply, deploying your rope and riding it to the ground.

“Five ticks northwest and the package is yours.”

“Copy.” You follow her instruction, ducking away as a bullet shatters the window beside you. “Easy.” You chastise, in a hushed whisper.

“Sorry,” she apologizes half heartedly. The kill was necessary and she had a clean shot.

You spot your target, ready to turn onto the main street from the alleyway. You wrestle him to the ground, he puts up a good fight. Not good enough.

You wipe the blood from your hands before removing the usb drive from his breast coat pocket. “Just admit it,” you taunt, turning to the building Yelena is scoping from, “you’re proud of me.”

“Y/N!” Her tone is not playful at all.

What’s wrong? Before you get a chance to ask the man you’d assumed dead has his knife buried in your thigh.

You crumple to the ground as he prepares to strike again. In the time it takes to unholster your weapon a silent bullet reaches his temple from the sky.

You squint up at Yelena, watching her ride her teether down to the ground beside you. “Thanks.” You pant, inspecting the damage.

“That was sloppy,” she frowns, searching her pack for the midkit, then tearing open a package of gauze. “You always check the body, confirm the kill.”

“I know, I was stupid.” You gasp, feeling Yelena apply an obscene amount of pressure to your wound.

“We need to move to the extraction point, they can deal with you in medical.” Yelena rises, tossing your arm over her shoulder for support.

“It won’t happen again.” You promise, leaning heavily against her side.

“You’re right, it won’t. I have no idea what happens to me if you die.” She grumbles, somewhat bitterly.

———————————————————————

Interactions with Yelena are sparse after that. She doesn’t trust you. Only showing up for your lessons and leaving the moment they’re finished. You understand why she’s angry, you would be too.

According to your weekly rotation, today should be live target practice, however you are directed to a different room.

Once inside your eyes find the chair. You hate that chair. You hate this room. Nothing good ever happens here.

Slowly you move toward Yelena at the far wall.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been holding back in combat lessons.” Ivan says, tapping a finger to his chin. “Why is that?”

You bite anxiously at the inside of your cheek.

“I said why is that?!”

You notice Yelena flinch from the corner of your eye. “It’s my fault,” you hold up a hand. “I took a hit on our last mission and my partner was being mindful of my injuries.”

“Oh I see.” He smirks, condescendingly. “You don’t want to hurt each other.”

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.” Yelena points out. The red room drilled that into you.

“That is true.” His eyes dart between you. “But we can’t have you afraid of sparring together. Now can we?”

Your jaw ticks, awaiting the consequence.

“When’s the last time you girls ran a captive simulation?”

“Two weeks ago.” Yelena presents her left index finger to him for inspection. The nail just beginning to grow back.

Ivan hums, “When’s the last time you ran a captive simulation on each other?”

Your heart drops, all the blood running out of your face. Not for months.

“Hmm,” he wets his lips. “Who gets to play the captor first?”

Neither one of you volunteer.

“Belova,” he purrs. “Come choose your tools while Y/L/N straps herself into the chair.”

You don’t hesitate, it’ll be worse if you do. Tuning out his incessant chatter you find your seat. The metal chair sends a chill up your spine. Bending at the waist, you strap each ankle into a leather restraint, then your non dominant hand. Free hand waiting, curled around the arm rest.

Yelena kneels before you, her selections resting at your feet as she closes the final strap around your wrist. Your breath quickens.

“Fifteen minutes on the clock then you’ll switch.” Your spectator announces. “Make them count or we’ll start over.”

On autopilot Yelena reaches for the scalpel.

You don’t mean to scream…but eventually you do. You always do.

———————————————————————

Yelena knows your weaknesses and regularly exploits them to leave you face up on the floor during hand to hand combat sessions.

You used to resent her for it, but it made you strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been or hoped to be. The day you finally best her the room is filled with hushed whispers. Now you are ready.

You learn to move in harmony. The trainers ease up a bit and the other girls line up to watch you like an exhibit. You are two halves of a more perfect whole.

“Madame B, can I ask you something?” You say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course.” The older woman replies. “What is it?”

“Why was my training so different with Oksana?”

She leans in. “You were not brought here to be a partner to Oksana. She was standing in until we could be sure you were ready for a partner. Nothing more.”

“Was I brought here to be Yelena’s partner?” The question burns at the back of your throat.

“I understand the desire to seek meaning in these things. You hope to find your place in the world.”

You nod.

“But you have no place in the world,” the words cut like a knife. “What you do have is an opportunity to prove that you are not a waste of space, time, or resources. Come, let’s sit for debriefing.”

You wait in silence for Yelena to arrive, finally she does. Taking the seat beside you in the meeting room.

“In two days you will undergo the graduation ceremony, after which you are granted up to three days recovery time before you will be deployed to Moscow.” Madame B reviews the information, handing you each a folder of details.

“Enclosed you will find your identification cards and aliases. I suggest you take this time to familiarize yourselves. Tomorrow we will begin shooting photographs for the past two years of your lives. Report with several changes of clothing. Congratulations on this assignmet. It is a great honor.” Madame B dismisses you.

You open the file. ‘Katherine and Irena Reiner.’

“We’re sisters?” Yelena guesses.

Worse. “We’re married.”

“Even better.” She says under her breath, rising from the chair.

———————————————————————

Life in Moscow is different. Good. The neighbors are easy enough to convince. You play your parts to perfection.

The company you work for being the main focus. They have access to some sort of programming that Dreykov is desperate to get his hands on. You know better than to ask why.

Most mornings you get ready together, discussing the events of the previous day to prepare for the next.

“How come you only speak English?” Yelena wonders, turning off the steady spray of water from her shower and reaching out to grab a towel.

“I have a theory,” you reply, spitting excess toothpaste into the sink. “I think keeping me dependent on translation had more pros than cons.”

“They taught me.” She says, stepping onto the bath mat. “But I guess that’s different.”

You were brought in much older a majority of the other girls.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, seeing each other as if for the first time.

“I could teach you.” She offers, breaking the connection as she turns away.

“Yeah?” You pass the brush through your hair.

Yelena shrugs, “I have nothing better to do.”

“Just don’t teach me the wrong words to make me look stupid.” You arch a brow.

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

Hours turn into days. Days into weeks and suddenly you stand on a blurred line. How much is she pretending? How much are you?

The two of you rest on opposite ends of the couch. Enjoying another round of prime time television.

“Yesterday I was talking to that girl in accounting.” Yelena pulls your attention from the picture.

“The blonde one?” You ask, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

She attempts to catch it in her mouth. Having had more than a few drinks her coordination is lacking.

You smirk, when it falls into her lap.

“No Maggie.” She corrects you, finding the wayward piece and biting into it.

“Mmm.” You hum.

“Mmm? What do you mean, ‘mmm?’” Yelena’s brows pull together.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I was just acknowledging what you said.”

“You didn’t sound very happy about it. Did she do something to you?” Yelena demands, straightening her posture.

“No, she didn’t do anything. Anyway tell me what happened.”

“She’s worked there for a long time. I think she knows more than she says she does.”

“So are you gonna talk to her again? See if she’ll open up?” Yelena has that effect on people.

“I am married.” She rolls her eyes, flipping her left ring finger in place of the middle.

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

“I’m crazy about you, know you. Ever since we met in high school. You didn’t like me at first but you came around.” Yelena elaborates.

“I don’t remember seeing all that in our cover story.” You cock your head to the side.

“That was a shit story, I’m rewriting it.” She waves a hand.

“Tell me more.” Tell me everything.

———————————————————————

“Did you get milk?” You shout, peeking into the nearest paper bag.

“Was it on the list?” Yelena hollers back, from the front door, kicking it shut. Her arms full of groceries.

“I don’t remember,” you say, unpacking the head of lettuce and eggs.

“You made the list.” She scoffs, setting the rest of the haul on the floor.

A knock pulls your attention away from the food.

“Who is it?” You wonder.

“It’s me, George. From next door.” Your neighbor answers.

Yelena rolls her eyes, waving you out of the kitchen. It’s your turn to make small talk.

You step carefully around the produce to the main entrance. “Hey George.” You smile, swinging open the door, “what’s up?”

“Katherine!” He greets you. “Could I borrow Irena for a minute?”

“Is that lawnmower giving you trouble again?” You guess, leaning against the door frame.

“It’s running great actually. There’s something else I’m curious about though.”

“I can send her over after dinner.” You attempt to dismiss him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” George moves his foot to prevent the door from closing, producing a pistol from his waistband.

“George!” Yelena waves, clearly oblivious.

“Irena,” he looks down at the gun, pointed at your chest, “we have much to discuss.”

“Clearly.” Yelena agrees, coming to join you on the threshold. “Are you going to tell me why you have my wife at gunpoint?”

“We should take this inside.”

“I’m good here.”

He presses the barrel against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. “You sure about that?”

“On second thought, I could go for a drink. Do you like scotch?” Yelena takes a step back, leaving room for him to enter the house.

“Who sent you?” George demands, guiding you into the kitchen.

“We also have brandy.” She says, expression unreadable.

“Who are you working for?” He asks a second time, adjusting his grip on the gun. “First one goes in her leg.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yelena drawls. “But I’m going to warn you, if you hurt her, you die.”

“You have three seconds to give me a better answer,” the nuzzle of the gun sits flush against you upper thigh. “One, two-“

Yelena lunges, the gun firing into the floor when he’s knocked off balance.

George tosses her off as if she weighs nothing. You rush him, knocking the fire arm to the other side of the room. Your arms locked around his neck, flush to his back. He rams you back first into the china cabinet.

You fall away with a grunt.

“Now,” the man rights himself. Wiping away the blood from his split bottom lip with the back of his hand. “We’re going to have fun.”

Taking a fist full of your hair he begins pulling you toward the center of the room. You grab for a large shard of glass, slicing it over the back of this knee. He releases you, doubling over.

“I warned you.” Yelena snarls, stabbing her knife into his belly, making a straight line up to his sternum. “You thought you could use her to break me? They used to make me torture her! They used to make me-“ she breaks off, withdrawing her knife. Only to ram it in again and again.

George, if that was his real name, is long dead. A crimson puddle blooming on the floor. It doesn’t stop Yelena, hot, angry tears rolling past her cheeks.

“Yelena.” You say softly.

“They used to make me do it.” She repeats, the weight of the words crushing down on her.

Your arms envelope her from behind.

“No.” She sobs when she feels you there, holding exactly where it hurts.

“It’s ok.” You whisper against her ear.

The blood stained blade clatters to the ground. Her breathing ragged as both her hands find yours, squeezing tightly. Don’t let go.

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not.” She cries, frantically shaking her head.

“I did it too.” As if she needs reminding. “They made me do it too.”

She allows you to stay curled around her, desperately trying to absorb some of that pain.

———————————————————————

Yelena’s drug of choice is alcohol, the spirits burn their way into her blood stream. Erasing all that she’s done.

“You want a glass?” She offers, setting the bottle of clear liquor down on the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You shake your head, hair still damp from the shower.

“Don’t be a hero,” she rolls her eyes as she takes a seat. The water had washed away any trace of George.

“Fine,” you take a long swig from the bottle in question.

“You’ll thank me later.” She tosses back a shot, sliding the strap of your pajama top down to assess the damage to your left shoulder. “It’s deep, going to need stitches. This is why we don’t go through china cabinets.” Yelena chastises, moving for the first aid kit.

“Yeah, not my finest moment.” You peek at her. “But it worked.”

“Mmm,” she hums, returning to her spot. Flipping open the white box and removing what she needs to stitch you up.

First she hits you with the antiseptic “сука!” Bitch.

“See,” you can hear the smile in her voice, “you are learning.”

You let out a pained laugh, “I guess I am. We need to call someone to clean this up.”

“Here,” she hands you her phone, blowing gently over you wound. “You take care of that, I take care of you.”

Your heart clenches at her words. But Yelena is your partner. That is all.

“Belova, do you have a status update?” A familiar voice answers after the first ring.

“Yeah, we need a cleanup.” You say matter of factly.

“Agent Y/L/N.” He greets you. “How many?”

“One.”

“For now,” The man remarks.

“You didn’t tell us we weren’t alone in this pursuit.” You purse your lips.

“There’s a reason we sent the best. I’ll put in for a clean up crew in the morning.”

“Let them know the body is in the bathtub.”

The goes dead.

The conversation distracts you well enough from the dull ache of the needle poking and pulling at your shoulder.

Carefully Yelena bandages the abused skin. Her finger tips running along the back of your arm.

“Thank you.” You whisper, relaxing into her touch.

Her lips ghost over your skin. “You’re welcome.”

Oh.

Slowly you turn, as if not to startle her. Yelena’s eyes find yours.

You move closer, tracing the line of her jaw. “Thank you,” you repeat.

She nods, still unsure.

“Of all the people I could’ve been stuck here with…I’m glad it was you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” She pulls your hand away gently.

“You’re right. I don’t have to say anything.“ You murmur, “But I want to… and it would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

“We can’t.” She knows it. You know it. “It will get in the way. They’ll kill us.”

“No.” You chuckle bitterly. “They’ll make us kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Yelena insists.

“You won’t have a choice.” You point out. “Didn’t you hear about that stuff they started pumping into people?”

“Mind control.” Yelena replies in Russian.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe we get out.”

“Maybe,” you smile sadly, “maybe we find each other.” In another life.

———————————————————————

Three days later Yelena comes home late. During your day off you were tasked with the more mundane tasks of running a household, but you suppose there are worse things. She finds you in the laundry room, drink already in hand. Her mouth set in a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You drop the piece of clothing back into the basket.

“I have it.” Yelena confesses.

You press your lips together, you knew this was coming. That information is the only reason you are here. “Did you contact them?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“You say that like I have a choice.” She stares down at her drink.

“I just meant-“

“I know what you meant.” Yelena knows you, better than anyone. The red room saw to that. “Do you want to stay one more night?”

“Do you?” You wonder.

“When I was a little girl…I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

“In the morning,” you offer. Any longer and the risk will be too great. “We’ll go in the morning.”

She nods, taking in the room around her. “I wanted it to be real.”

“It was.” You choke down the lump in your throat.

———————————————————————

Your return to the red room is swift. No pat on the back or celebration to be had. Just two pawns, returning to their places on the board.

You’re separated from Yelena. Because your loyalties are to each other and that poses a threat. But what did they expect? They made you this way.

You are alone. Perhaps the most alone you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’d just forgotten that you could feel things. You remember now and wish you didn’t.

Like it or not she changed you. Knowing her had changed you, for better or for worse. After Yelena you were never the same.

Word of Oksana’s escape only fuels the need to chemically alter the minds of all agents. Beginning in order of importance.

Finding Yelena seated on the bench outside the physician’s office steals the breath from your lungs. To see her now is blatantly cruel and calculated.

Still you sit in the empty space beside her.

“Do you know where your orders are?” She asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Budapest. You?”

“Back to Moscow.” Yelena informs you.

You swallow hard, your pinkies skating past each other.

“Agent Y/L/N,” the doctor opens his door. You watch as another widow exits, she doesn’t look any different. Maybe the mind control drugs aren’t affective.

You steal one last glance at Yelena. Her eyes are desperate, ‘don’t go.’ Both of you knowing you can’t stay.

“Enjoy Moscow.” You whisper, moving reluctantly to your feet.

She tears her gaze away, unable to watch you leave. “I hear Budapest is beautiful.”

You hope so.

Wanna know what happens next? Check out chapter one of Miss American Pie! 💜

Yelena Belova Taglist: @captainwonderwidow

[ssplague]

Chapter Two

A rough start we get off too

Series Masterlist

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

⚠️Warnings: SMUT, improper use/depiction of certain kinks, abusive, manipulative, toxic behavior, unreal ideals of sex, use of daddy, ddlg themes, hard Dom, etc.

Let the SMUT commence

The way each pair of lips fit so perfectly together was absolutely enthralling: Passion was raw, ferocity was made so obviously evident from the growl he emitted at each attempt you made at sucking his tounge into your mouth. Only separating to take in a few large gulps of much needed oxygen, before diving back in to repeat the process over again.

“Please….P-Pleaseee…Kat..Suki…I-“ he presses a finger to your lips. That brief period of oxygen deprivation seemed to of induced a delirium of sorts. Assessing your thoughts has become similar to sifting through wet sand; Try as you might, you just can’t seem to comprehend what exactly you’d been attempting to beg him for in the first place. This look of empty headed confusion is also something Bakugou commits to memory, a first glimpse of his dumb little girl. He surveys you with bemused interest, looking as composed as ever.

“Down that bad for me hah? All I did was kiss ya a little and you’re already falling to pieces on me” the finger on your lips slides down to tilt your chin up, while he dips his head down to whisper in your ear. “Cant even imagine what kinda mess you’ll become once I finally split cha open with this big cock, such a stupid little girl”.

You suck in a deep shuddering breath as your legs suddenly give out beneath you, leaving you helplessly sliding down the wall. Bakugou laughs in such a condescending baritone as he effortlessly picks you up and deposits you on his bed. Picking his chair back up, he moves it beside the bed to take a seat in front of you.

“Listen real close to what I’m about to tell ya cause its important, open those fuckin’ ears princess cause if I end up havin’ to constantly keep repeatin’ myself…” he leaves the implicated threat hanging in the air between you two. Swallowing what remains of your now virtually non existent pride: You sit up straight and lean forward slightly, making sure to hold eye contact while he spoke. As the one sided conversation progresses and you inevitably begin to feel the need to either scoff or mouth off, you lightly bite your tounge. When the need to roll your eyes seems irresistible you make sure to blink a few times.

Bakugou and his ego always seem to have a way of destroying any sort of illusion that he is anything other than a self-righteous narcissist. Well, now he’s YOUR self-righteous narcissist…CORRECTION; You cant think like that anymore….from now on he’s….daddy.

The thought accompanies a brief pang in your metaphorical gut, is it regret? Maybe guilt? You aren’t sure.

“-Last ones, your still paying attention right princess?”.

Hearing his question has your eyes immediately snapping back into focus. You take in the handsome (but grumpy) face in front of you, nervously wondering when exactly he’d invaded your personal space.

“Y-Yes daddy, I’m listening to you” you stutter slightly, now noticing he’s actually kneeling on the mattress with you.

“So every day I expect you to do your absolute best” now with each statement he leans further into you, “You’re always going to remember how much daddy cares about you”. He presses a large hand against your chest, forcing your back down against the pillows behind you. “Realize that daddy always knows what’s best for you” both hands now rest on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

“You’ll always know that you can rely on daddy, and will trust him one hundred percent of the time”.

The intensity of his crimson stare has your face burning up, and heart rapidly pounding in your chest. It’s now taking a serious amount of conscious effort to keep your eyes locked with his. “Any questions? Comments?…..concerns?” he puts an emphasis on that last word, wolffish grin firmly in place.

Shaking your head apparently wasn’t a good enough answer because its followed with a stern; “Use your words princess, you either say: Yes daddy or No daddy….understood?”.

“I understand daddy….I’ll follow your rules daddy” you reply, embarrassment evident at having to repeat the unfamiliar word.

“You sure? It’s not like you to have absolutely nothing to say” he’s testing you, you’ll play into it this time.

“Well if you insist…..I do have a question, just one” at this his eyes instantly narrow and you could have sworn you’d seen a few stray sparks emit from his palms.

“Would it be too much to ask daddy if he wouldn’t mind kissing me again?”

🌆

Euphie checks her phone for the eigth time since she’d last texted you over forty-five minutes ago. Why weren’t you responding? Maybe she really had pushed you too far this time….A large hand comes to rest over her much smaller one, at this she finally sets her phone facedown on the table with a sigh.

“She wont stay angry with you forever, her and Bakubro might be having such a good time together that she’s forgotten all about her phone” Kirishima tries his best to reassure with his usual smile. The sudden wide eyed, dead pan stare he gets in return whipes that smile from his now reddening face. He’s realized far too late at what his words seem to of implied.

“I didn’t mean it like that! Really! I promise I didn’t! M’sorry”. Seeing the red head this flustered is so adorable, his companion cant help but giggle.

“I know Eji, dont worry about it”.

Entrusting your care to Bakugou was fine: He cares about you almost as much as she herself does. If she wasn’t certain how genuine the boy’s feelings toward you were, none of this would ever have happened.

Yeah, everything is going to be just fine….You’ll thank her one day.

💥

Bakugou’s crimson gaze is way too intense while roaming over the female laying down on his bed. Having her completely bare, and spread out before him is an accomplishment he shamelessly contragulates himself for. She’s getting self conscious now: Delicate hands come up to cover her chest, and plush thighs press together in an attempt to hide the drooling mess kept between them. It’s all or naught though as her legs are suddenly wrenched apart, and each wrist is now pinned above her head, held in just a single one of his hands.

“Nu-uh princess, no hiding….keep those legs open…wanna see all of you” condescending words only seem to widen his feral grin.

Seeing his cock now freed from its previously strained confinements as its looms above you, standing tall, has your leaky little hole twitching. The smooth inner walls inside repeatedly clenching in anticipation. Bakugou trails a finger from clit to slit as he hums in approval.

“What’s this hah? Such a fuckin’ mess your makin’ down here”

“S-Sorry daddy…I cant help it…Just want you so bad…dont wanna wait any longer…Please dont make me wait more” a soft roll of your hips accompanies your pleading whines. Your continuous begging for his cock has that monster stirring in him again, he has to forcibly push the dark thoughts away before addressing you again.

“If I dont prep you then-“ you interrupt him.

“It’s fine! I can take it, please just take me…” he notices your moment of hesitation before you lock eyes with him while adding “make it hurt”.

You’re just so fucking bold!

Trying to make demands, disguised as requests! Its so cute he cant help but caress your cheek before bestowing upon you the last gentle kiss you’ll get until he’s throughly DESTROYED you for anyone else.

“Dont ever fucking tell me what to do again” he growls before slamming his hips forward.

He’s buried balls deep inside you: Your initial gasp at the sudden intrusion, now morphs into a silent scream that has a you arching up off the mattress.

“Got that you greedy little slut? See what happens?” He taunts through gritted teeth.

Your cunt squeezing and spasming around his cock feels incredible, to the point he has to busy himself with sucking harshly on your neck to keep from releasing desperate whimpers of his own.

“I can take it…please move….m’sorry daddy…please don’ be mad a’me….”

“M’not mad at you baby….s’okay” He manages to reassure you through his clenched jaw. He finally starts to move inside of you, desperately trying so hard to take it easy on you. All precedent falls apart when your legs wrap around his waist, now he’s digging you out.

“Y’okay?” He rasps while continuously ravaging your tight cunt.

“M-mm-more than okay” you stutter.

“Taking my cock so well baby girl….Fucking hell!” His lewd compliment causing your insides to involuntarily clench.

“Deeper! Deeper!” You plead.

Katsuki thought you’d preferred his shallow thrusts, but if you really wanted your guts rearranged he’d be pleased to make it happen. He grabs one of your legs, placing it up on his broad shoulder, while the other remains curled around his hip. Straightening up he smirks down at you, before delivering a harsh slap to your clit. Now beginning to rapidly piston his hips while taunting you: “What did I tell you earlier hah? Answer me dammit!”.

His hot hand comes down on your inner thigh and you cry out: “N-Not supposed t-to tell y-you what to d-do!”. It shouldn’t be possible for you to be squeezing him even tighter, but somehow you do. That can mean only one thing… “Gonna cum aren’t you princess? I can feel ya choking the life outta my cock”.

A pathetic whine accompanies your vigorous head nods and he growls in response: “You.better.fucking.not” a thrust accompanying each word, “Y’dont fuckin’ listen, shouldn’t let ya cum at all with how you keep misbehavin’, better start fuckin’ beggin”.

Horrified at the thought, you fight through the fog permeating your brain and force movement out of your lolling tounge.

“P-please daddy, I’ll b-be good from now on if y-you’ll just let me c-cum! Y-you’re just making me feel so good daddy, no one’s ever made me feel this i-incredible before” your panting breaths making it too difficult to continue speaking. Even if he doesn’t believe it, your words are entirely true, this is the first time you can ever recall feeling like this during sex. A foreign sensation is making its way into your gut, your limbs are moving of their own accord, you cant think straight when you manage to speak next: “Its too much! Too big, Too deep, Too intense! I c-cant take anymore please make it stop!”.

“Stop? Oh fuck no princess, after all this lip you’ve been giving me, you think I’m gonna let you tap out like a little bitch? Think again” his thumb begins to rub harsh circles against your clit. “We’re not stopping until you cream all over my cock like a nasty girl like you is supposed to, then you’re gonna do it again when I blow my load inside this tight fucking cunt and you’ll scream my name while I fucking do it because this pussy is all mine! Got all that you fucking whore?”.

“Yes daddy” you whimper, face screwed up in tight concentration as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your eyes fly open as you blindly search for his hand, gripping it tightly in attempts to anchor yourself in reality as a sudden rush of dopamine floods your brain. White hot pleasure seemingly overwhelming every single nerve in your body, making your legs shiver as you faintly hear yourself calling out his name repeatedly. Katsuki is the only thing you know in this strange foreign place: This comforting warmth suddenly invades your tummy, continuously being pumped inside you while you moan at the newfound sensation.

A pair of strong arms wind themselves around you, pulling you closer, making you feel safe, at ease, loved?

“Come…back…..come back to me” he’s calling for you. Your soul had to of vacated your body; You feel Weightless, you’re floating, “Daddy?”. Suddenly you start sinking, and without warning your body jolts, “Katsuki?!”.

“M’right here princess, daddy’s got you….Disappeared on me for a lil while” his familiar voice is grounding. His fingers card gently through your hair, and for the very first time you’re seeing a “Soft” side to this so easily angered man. Sighing contentedly you snuggle into his chest, letting his caramel scented sweat overwhelm your senses.

“I really like this”

“Hah?! That’s all you have to say?!”

Ah there he goes, moment ruined, illusion shattered.

“I’m sorry. But I’m not entirely coherent just yet…you uh…you kinda did a number on me there” you mutter sheepishly, making an attempt to escape his embrace. Its immediately thwarted, and your pulled right back against his chest. “Ah fuck…knew I shoulda just made you wait and prepped you properly….Sorry about that, guess I just got caught up in everything”. Surely hell has frozen over: Katsuki Bakugou just not only admitted a possible wrong doing, but APOLGIZED for it as well!

“Ive wanted to do this with you for so long: Fuck you, hold you, be with you, and I fucked it up! Just like I always seem to fucking do, I-“

“Daddy” your voice effectively silences his self-depreciating rant. His hand begins to gently run up and down your back as he mumbles a “Yes princess?”.

You lean back slightly, tilting your head up so those cute doe eyes can stare up into his, the smile your wearing makes his chest tighten.

“M’not hurt, sore but not damaged….I wasn’t referring to my body, I meant you did a number on my mind…Besides I asked for it remember? I’ve wanted this for a long time too, so I got impatient…Please dont berate yourself, lets just enjoy this moment as the first of many now…Kay?”.

That’s right, you’re his now; Along with the opportunity to care for and make sure to correct you…he’ll be able to do this with you again. You had given yourself to him after all, so he can have you as many times as he wants, whenever he wants! He’s far too occupied with his lewd thoughts to care about the foreboding darkness thats begun to emerge from its confines within his skull.

You don’t remember falling asleep but Katsuki gently prods you awake: “Baby…wake up, Its dinner time…I made food for us…c’mon princess you need to eat”.

You whine, attempting to burrow further beneath the blankets, “Not hungryyyy...wanna sleep more!”.

“Dont make daddy ask you again, you wont like what happens”.

Not interested in ruining such a wonderful night, you begrudgingly sit up. Noticing he’s seated at his desk, with a large steaming bowl set infront of him. You slide out of bed, standing up and realizing you’re naked, but strangely not embarrassed by it.

“Here” he tosses you a shirt, “Now c’mere, hurry up before it gets cold!”. Pulling his shirt over your head as you pad over to him and take a seat on his lap. Noticing the single spoon and bowl has you looking at him with genuine curiosity. “Since you like actin like a damn baby so much, figured I’d continue treatin’ you like one” his words make you grin sheepishly again, and you hold out your hand expectantly waiting for him to hand you the spoon….he doesn’t.

Taking an impressive spoonful of the steaming food he then proceeds to blow on it before bringing it up to your lips.

“Say ahh, brat”.

“Wha-?”

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he shoves the spoon into your open mouth. Of course it tastes amazing, but he doesn’t plan on keeping this up right? WRONG!

Repeating the pattern of giving you a bite and then taking one himself.

“I can feed myself y’know…” you mutter growing increasingly flustered at the insulting action but more so the fact that its making you feel….excited?

“I dont think you can princess….I always hear Euphie bitchin at ya for skipping breakfast or to hurry up and come eat dinner” pausing to feed himself, then repositioning the now loaded spoon back infront of you before continuing.

“That shit ends today, gonna teach ya how important it is to take care of yourself, and if you wont? Then I guess daddy will have to do it for ya”.

You’re squirming in his lap by the time you accept the last bite,swallowing thickly before making an attempt at vaulting off his lap. Large hands immediately snag you around the middle before your feet even touch the ground.

“No, No, thats not how we do things around here, where the fuck are your manners?” he slips a hand between your clenched thighs to move them apart, and then brings a slap down to the inside of each. You dont even know why he’d done that and the shock is evident on your face. “You like when I baby ya, dont lie to me LITTLE girl”.

“No I-“

“What’s this then?” he quickly interupts while holding up the palm he’d previously slapped you with. Glimmering in the low light is your sticky arousal coating his palm.

“Sorry” your voice is barely audible as you hang your head in shame.

“Mhm sure you are…Here I am being a good care taker to you and what did you do? Sat there thinking all kinds of nasty things while I spoon feed you, you really are a fuckin depraved slut aren’t you princess?”

You bite your lip as your eyes start to water,still refusing to look up and far too embarrassed to respond. A finger beneath your chin forces your head up and his breath hitches when he notices tears getting ready to fall. A malicious smile now turns his lips upward as he cups your cheek, “Look at that…shes about to start crying and all because of what? Cuz you just exposed yourself for being the depraved little slut you are?”.

“NO! No im not I-“.

“You are” his grip tightens painfully on your jaw, pulling your face forward so its now just an inch away from his own, “And I fuckin’ love it”. Then he’s surging forward pressing his lips against yours; Forcing his tongue into your mouth, hand coming around to grip the back of your head. Your lungs are on fire while his hand slips under your shirt to harshly grope at your chest. Clawing his forearms is finally enough to get his attention and he reluctantly pulls away. You’ve just barely began catching your breath when he suddenly stands up, keeping a firm grip on your ass to carry you, before dropping you onto the bed.

“Take that off and-“

*knock knock knock*

The sudden knocking followed abruptly by Kirishima’s muffled shouting, startles both you and Katsuki, and the rattling door knob has you immediately springing into action.

“Hey we brought back desert to share with you guys! So just meet us at my room whenever you feel like it, Euphie’s changing her clothes and then she’ll be there too, we’re gonna watch a movie if you two wanna join us!”.

He must have heard Bakugou’s standard non-committal grunt in response, because you hear his retreating footsteps trail off down the hall.

Grabbing your skirt out from underneath the bed, you stand back up.

Just as you’d gotten to your feet your immediately pushed face first onto the mattress. A sweaty hand takes hold of your hip in a bruising grip, while the other delivers a sharp pinch to your ass cheek. Yelping in response to the sudden harsh yank of your hair that proceeds a whisper of:

“You didn’t really think I would let you off that easy did you? Your fuckin’ cake can wait brat, we’re done when I fuckin say we are, got it?”.

✨

A/N: I hope this chapter was to everyone’s liking, I’m actually kind of nervous to post it but 🤷🏼‍♀️ Chapter 3 has a fair amount of smut in it as well so look forward to that. I’m hoping to get another one shot up for “A man of his word” this week, if you like extreme Yandere Bakugou check that out. I have one penned but it needs to be typed up.

[dorimena]

hey could you do reader motorboating any my hero character.

Of course I could (´ ω `♡) I hope you don’t mind me doing three instead of one.

(´ ω ` )ﾟ｡

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰; Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shota & Monoma Neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw in Monoma’s part, nsfw-ish in Aizawa’s, motorboating, ⅔ fluff, ⅓ suggestive, cuddling, soft boys, mentioned kink, mentioned fetish, crossdressing/feminization, Bakugou’s tits, cursing

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; gender neutral reader, movie date night, Tsubaraba’s briefly mentioned, aged-up characters, Monoma & Bakugou are 18+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I hope I did this correctly! In case no one knows what motorboating is, let us take our beloved Urban Dictionary and recite:

“The act of pushing one's face in between two ample breasts, and rocking one's head side to side very rapidly while making a vigorous, lip-vibrating "brrr" sound.”

𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖇𝖔𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

☙ If there is one thing Bakugou loves more than resting on your lap is you resting on his chest

☙ Maybe not so much when you’re both about to sleep, because he needs to feel comfortable and sometimes his muscles ache more just before bedtime

☙ But during the afternoons you both are free and decide to just relax at home is when he much likes seeing you resting your head on his chest

☙ Or juicy tits, as you like to tease

☙ Which he very much likes that you refer to them as, but you don’t know that (you actually do)

☙ If there is one thing you love more than resting on his chest, it’s smothering yourself in them

☙ And he’d just go with it, chest rumbling in laughter as it kind of tickles

☙ Step two sets in place and you start making weird sounds that oddly sound like...

☙ “Are you fucking serious right now?!”

☙ Why do you sound like an engine?

☙ Why are you trying to make the sound of an engine?

☙ “Why not?”

☙ And he really doesn’t know what to say, not with how you dive back in and go back to imitating the motor and rubbing your face between his juicy tits

☙ And if this doesn’t get him suddenly embarrassed with your new way of appreciation, then he doesn’t know what else it could be

☙ He’d be red by the time you’re done and satisfied, hand groping around his chest instead as he tries convincing himself he does not like this

☙ He loves this

☙ Do it again, it’s… oddly soothing

☙ Aizawa knows how muscular he actually is underneath his baggy clothes

☙ He also knows how much you love his muscular body

☙ Whether it’d be because you’d find it challenging to make such a hunk of a man submit, feminize, pet play, make all your kinks and fetishes come true-

☙ Or because it makes a good body pillow for when you two are lounging on the couch while some weird European movie plays, per Hizashi’s recommendation

☙ Or was it Yagi’s-

☙ Who cares, what matters right now is that your hand stopped pawing at his chest and he can feel you squirm and shift, and wonders if this cuddle position became a bit too stifling or uncomfortable for you

☙ As much as he’s exhausted with his everyday live, he still puts you and Eri first, his main priorities

☙ “Y/n?”

☙ You look at him, smiling as you caress his cheek before leaning close and kissing where you’ve touched him

☙ It doesn’t really ease his inquiry, but it’s enough to know you’re probably just getting more comfortable

☙ He feels a sudden pressure on his chest and looks down to see your head in between his, um, natural pillows, an eased and blissed expression settling in

☙ Humming lowly in a bit of delight, his attention returns to the television

☙ Until he feels some weird, rapid moving, as if something was wiggling around

☙ And on his chest is your head, so when he looks down again, he just watches you rock your face side to side

☙ He doesn’t really say anything, or do anything, just keeps watching and forgetting all about the movie

☙ He can hear you giggling between the bad impersonation of a motorboat, ruining the fun because now he’s laughing with you

☙ Aizawa doesn’t ask what you were doing, or why you did it, just let it go and just felt his heart warm up even more

☙ He would’ve been worried about it being heartburn, but he knows it’s just him falling in love with you again

☙ And when you randomly do it again before you both go to sleep, he purrs in delight

☙ He could get used to this, and maybe he should focus more on his chest muscles to make them squishier, huh?

☙ Monoma knows what motorboating is

☙ Tsubaraba randomly shared such a piece of information at random when he went to hang out with his friends a few days ago

☙ But it sounded really weird

☙ Why would anyone find that fun?

☙ Seems like a huge turn off, and he hates that

☙ He doesn’t bring it up, not even when you ask him what’s in his mind whenever he randomly sports an odd expression when he even dares remember that… thing

☙ Like, is it a kink? A fetish?

☙ Or is it some weird tickling mechanism? Maybe for cuddling purposes with a bit of fun?

☙ You, however, have been dying to try it with him

☙ Whether it’s him motorboating you or you motorboating him

☙ And what’s a good enough opportunity than when you have him dressed up in another cute, cottagecore dress you bought for him when you went shopping with the girls from Class B?

☙ On your bed lies a sweaty, heavily panting, recently blissed and fucked out Monoma, whose flower themed hair accessories are kind of everywhere on the pillow he’s resting on and the dress, even if pulled up to his chest, is covered in cum

☙ But if you lift the dress up a little more, you can see his chest and finally motorboat this bitch

☙ Without anymore hesitation, you delicately lift the material more, even if it ends up bunching awkwardly on his collarbones, kinda, and lean in

☙ Monoma thinks you’ve already started cuddling him, and he mewls softly at the idea of finally relaxing and not losing his head over how heavenly you feel riding him mercilessly

☙ But the moment you start moving your head rapidly and start making those weird lip-vibrating sounds, his soft smile turns into a confused frown, eyes blinking as he tries processing whatever the fuck is going on

☙ Until he somehow remembers what Tsubaraba told him about motorboating

☙ And Monoma’s ready to throw a fit, a fight, anything to get you to stop because god this is embarrassing

☙ Not so much you doing a horrible motorboat imitation

☙ 0.1% because this actually doesn’t feel so bad and unlike what he thought

☙ 99.9% because he’s somehow getting turned on?

☙ What the fuck Monoma?

☙ You can feel him twitch every time you somehow manage to brush against his nipples, ‘forgetting’ how sensitive they are

☙ And his cute gasp of your name is enough to make you start kissing his skin whenever you take a break from rocking your head

[ponderinqs]

Pushed Away || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, underage drinking, angst, gun usage, SLOW BURN!!!

word count: 3.3k

summary: you’re best friends with jj, but something happens one day, leaving you and the rest of the group confused and worried about him. what happened to him? did you do something to hurt him? or maybe, there’s something rather... emotional going on inside him. something he’s never felt for anyone before in his life.

a/n: here’s me apologizing for not posting this WAYYY sooner. listen,, i got huge writers block for a very long time, and i wasn’t feeling up to anything obx. but now that season 2 has come out, and the fact that i’m at the beach right now (approximately 2 hours away from where they film outer banks), i finally have some motivation to write. soooo yeahhhh. hope you enjoy LMFAOOO. also, read the other parts if u haven’t already!

unedited. please excuse any typos :)

comment if you want tagged !! :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

—————————

It’s been about four days since your friends found out about your past. A week since you spoke to any of them.

When you came home that night after seeing Rafe, you and your mother got into a screaming fit over how she needs to stop trying to change you back to who you used to be.

“You don’t get to tell me who I am! I get to choose that!” You yelled, finger pointed at your mother.

“Excuse me?! I am your mother! I can do whatever I need to do to get you to stop turning into someone you’re not!” Now your mother was screaming at you, probably waking the neighbors.

“Life was better when dad was here! Now you’re just a pathetic excuse as a mother!!” You felt regretful for the words that left your mouth, but in the heat of the moment, it felt like the right thing to do.

You felt a hand come across your cheek. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, young lady!”

She left the house shortly after you two fought. Your mother has been gone for a few days, which left you holed up in your room, alone, letting the nasty thoughts fog your brain.

You groaned as you got out of your bed, trudging to the bathroom to see how awful you looked. Your hair was disheveled and you looked like absolute shit. “God…” You whispered, letting your fingers graze your cheek. You winced as you felt a slight sting from the movement. It was still sore, and even if there wasn’t much of a mark anymore, you could still see a slight red tint to it.

You finally decided it was time to leave the house. The sun was beginning to set, but you didn’t want to be holed up in your house for another day. After cleaning up and looking somewhat normal, you walked downstairs and went to open the door, but someone was at the door, just about to knock. It was Pope, looking frantic and scared.

“Y/N! Hi!” He pulled you into a quick hug. “You gotta come quick, there’s something wrong with JJ.” He looked at you, scanning your face for any response, when he saw the slightly reddened cheek mark.

“Who did that?” He spoke softly, his finger touching the mark lightly. “My mother.” You sighed. You didn’t feel like worrying everyone, but it was already happening.

“We can talk about this later, okay? But c'mon, we gotta go.” He nudged his head to his car as the both of you made your way over to the car.

“Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?” You spoke after a few minutes of pure silence while Pope drove. “I really don’t know. He went back home last night and something must’ve happened there. You’re like the only one that can get him to calm down.” He smiled at you as he pulled into the Chateau.

You both got out and walked towards the front, where JJ was seen pacing back and forth, Kiara and John B just watching him. They both saw you and stared, not saying a word.

JJ turned around and saw you, the two of you making eye contact. He stopped pacing, and you saw the sun shine through his beautiful hair, but you also noticed more cuts and bruises scattered around his pretty face.

You approached him with caution, looking into his ocean blue eyes the entire time. The two of you didn’t speak any words, but somehow you still calmed JJ down. You grabbed both of his arms as you looked at his face, examining each and every cut and bruise.

Instead of speaking, you hugged him. You wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, resting your head on his chest. He was hesitant at first, but he also wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck.

You felt wetness on your skin, making you hug him even tighter. JJ let out a choked sob, still holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping him from completely losing it. You stroked his back, your eyes watering as you listened to him cry into you.

“I can’t do it.” He mumbled into your neck in between sobs. Your heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time this week. And again, you couldn’t do anything to help him, which made you feel helpless. All you could do was stand here and hug your best friend, hoping something would make everything stop hurting.

JJ went limp in your arms as the two of you fell to the ground, JJ covering his face with his hands and he continued to cry. “JJ..” You whispered softly, grabbing him and holding him to your chest. You ran your hand through his hair a few times, trying to get him to calm down.

You looked around at the other Pogue members, signaling that they need to give you two a minute. They understood and nodded, walking into the Chateau and closing the door behind them.

After they were gone, you moved JJ away from you as you pulled his hands away from his face. Your foreheads rested against each other’s, the two of you not daring to break eye contact.

His eyes were red and puffy, tears still streaming down his face. He looked at you with his sad eyes as you felt raindrops beginning to fall on the top of your head.

Soon it was beginning to rain even harder, but the two of you just sat outside, staring at each other and not speaking a word. “I can’t deal with him anymore..” JJ’s voice cracked at the end, letting out another choked sob.

You cupped his face with your hands, kissing his forehead lightly. As you pulled his face away, he noticed the faint cheek mark on your face. “Who.. who did that?” He said quietly, his hand coming up to touch it.

Shivers went down your spine as you felt his touch, along with a slight sting. “Shit.” You hissed, looking down at the ground.

“It was your mother, wasn’t it?” He moved his dripping wet hair out of his face, looking into your eyes.

You nodded slowly right as a bolt of lightning cracked in the air. Thunder boomed through the atmosphere within seconds, and the two of you shared the same look. “Let’s go inside, okay?” You grabbed his hand and helped him stand as the two of you went inside.

The three friends looked up at the sound of the door closing, seeing the both of you drenched with your hands still intertwined.

You squeezed his hand, leading him to the extra bedroom. You watched the fragile boy lie down on the bed, turning his back to you.

You turned around and went back out to the rest of your friends. “Um, we’re gonna stay here tonight.” You shuffled your feet.

“Everyone is staying here. The hurricane is coming through right now.” John B sat on one of the couches, finally looking up at you.

You nodded. “He’s gonna be okay, Y/N. Just give him time.” Kiara looked up at you, giving you a slight smile.

You sighed and made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a few towels before you returned to the extra room, seeing JJ in the same position that he was in when you left him.

“Hey, I got some towels so we can dry off.” You got onto the bed and set the towels in front of you. JJ turned around and sat up, grabbing a towel and drying off his hair.

“Do you have extra clothes here?” You asked, and JJ just simply nodded, pointing to the worn down dresser across from the bed. You stood up and walked over, opening it and finding some random clothes for you and JJ.

You tossed JJ a random marina shirt, and a pair of shorts. You found a blue shirt and some sweats, and put them onto the bed. “Well, close your eyes.” You grinned at him, and JJ smirked before covering his eyes with his hand.

You stripped from your wet shirt and tossed it to the corner of the room, making a note to wash it tomorrow. When you looked at JJ, he was peeking out of his hand. “Maybank!!” You giggled as you hurriedly put the shirt on.

“Well, I like the view.” He commented, making the heat rise up to your cheeks. You shook your head and pulled off the drenched pants you had on, rushing to put on the sweatpants.

“Keep em off.” He smirked, his hands now completely away from his eyes. “Oh, shut up.” You finished changing and got into bed, JJ now getting up and changing. “Do I need to close my eyes?” You spoke as if you were a little child.

“That’s up to you.” He smirked again. You decided not to as you watched him slowly peel his wet shirt off of his body.

Without realizing it, you were biting your lip and staring at his defined torso. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” JJ laughed, pulling the dry shirt onto him and then taking off his drenched shorts.

Seeing JJ in his boxers was something you never thought you would witness, but I guess it had to happen sometime, right? He slid on his shorts and got back into bed.

Rain pattered against the window, along with the occasional lightning strikes and thunder. The two of you sat in the darkness for what felt like hours.

“Why did your mother slap you?” JJ spoke, the air thick with something you couldn’t quite explain.

“I called her a pathetic excuse for a mother. So she slapped me. Then she left.” You turned to face JJ, your faces inches away from each other.

“Why didn’t you come to see us? You were gone for a long time, or at least a long to the three of us. We were all scared and confused.” JJ’s hand moved to rest on your cheek, staring at you. Even in total darkness, he could make out your features.

“I didn’t want to. I thought you guys hated me.” You relaxed into his touch, sighing.

“We don’t hate you, Y/N. We are all just a little disappointed that you never told us.” He moved a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

The tension was thick, and it scared you. You’ve never been this vulnerable to each other. JJ never let his guard down, and neither did you. The time you shared outside was something that has never happened before.

“Do you feel better?” You spoke softly, wondering if that was the right thing to say. You didn’t know if you were overstepping any boundaries the two of you had. A lightning bolt lit up the sky, followed by a large boom of thunder as JJ began to talk.

“Yeah.. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He shrugged it off and pulled the thin blanket up to his chest. You gave him a confused look. “JJ, I will always worry about you. That’s what friends do. We always look after each other and make sure the other one is okay.” You scooted yourself closer to him. You felt him shiver as your arm grazed his.

“Just don’t bother worrying about me, okay? I’ll survive.” His finger reached up to his face to touch the multiple cuts and bruises on his face. You heard him wince as the wind picked up outside.

Rain began rapidly pattering against the window, wind shaking the trees and scraping up against the side of the shack.

“JJ look.. I’m sorry for going full ghost on you guys for that long. I should’ve let you all know that I was okay.” You whispered, your hand resting on his shoulder as you laid your side to look at him.

“Nah I get it. I do it too.” JJ shrugged. You stared into his blue eyes, trying to figure out what was going on inside of that beautiful brain of his. He was too focused on the storm outside to realize that you were staring at him. When he finally made eye contact with you, your heart seemed to have skipped a beat.

“What?” He asked, his voice soft and caring. “Nothing.” You mumbled and laid down, getting comfortable with your pillow and the blanket you were currently sharing with JJ.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” JJ said before he turned on his side and tried to fall asleep. You were facing his back, your eyes glued to him. Slowly but surely your eyes closed and you both fell asleep to the sound of the wind and rain outside.

-

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. Looking down, you saw JJ sleeping on you, his hand draped across your stomach with soft snores emitting from his mouth. You smiled and brushed some hair out of his face. You inspected his small cuts and bruises on his face, your index finger grazing each and every one of them.

Soon JJ’s eyes peeled open and he looked up at you. “What are you doing?” He mumbled, his eyes darting to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

“Oh, nothing. Good morning.” You replied, moving your finger away from his face. JJ rolled himself off of you and got out of bed, mumbling a ‘good morning’ before he exited the room and went to find the others. You followed him shortly after, finding no one in the living room.

“Uh.. guys?” JJ questioned, walking around the small boat house as he tried to find his friends. You then spotted John B outside, along with Kiara and Pope. “JJ, they’re outside.” You spoke before walking outside.

You looked around at the damage the hurricane had caused. Branches and twigs were scattered around the yard, along with a lot of random debris covering most of the grass. “Holy shit. She really did a number.” JJ admitted, walking around the yard, stepping on some twigs and picking random stuff up.

“Yeah, no kidding.” John B replied, his hands on his hips as he looked around at all the damage.

Surprisingly, the Chateau didn’t take much damage. You had noticed a bucket sitting on the floor earlier, so there must be a leak. Other than that, there wasn’t much else that needed repairing.

Suddenly, your phone in your pocket started to ring. Grabbing it, you saw the caller ID and it showed that it was your mom. “You have to be kidding me.” You muttered under your breath.

Catching your friends’ attention, they all turned to look at you. “Your mom?” Pope asked, wincing to himself once you nodded.

You answered the call and put your phone up to your ear. “Y/F/N Y/L/N, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She screamed through the phone.

“What do you mean?” You kept your voice calm and controlled, because you knew if you raised your voice this phone call would be a lot worse than it already is.

“Leaving the house when I’m not there?! Doing god knows what with those low life’s?!” Your mom responded through the phone, her voice getting increasingly louder by the second.

“First of all, you left me!! What the hell was I supposed to do holed up in that house?! And I have told you this time and time again, they are not low lifes!” You retaliated back, making sure that your mom knew that she was in the wrong.

“That’s what you think.” She responded flatly. You just scoffed. “You make me sick, mom. You really do.” You responded, beginning to walk around in circles.

“You need to come back home. I mean it.” Your mom responded sternly. She could do anything, but nothing would tear you away from your real family.

“No. I am not coming back home for a while.” You shook your head, making eye contact with Kie.

“Excuse me? Yes you are. I will send the cops after you if I have to.” She responded, now raising her voice yet again.

“I cannot believe how disrespectful you are right now, mom. No, I am not coming home. You have given me so many reasons to not come home. I am going to stay here where I am more loved. Fuck off.” You yelled and ended the call, not caring about what she had to respond with.

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry you have to deal with her. That’s horrible.” Kiara walked up to you and gave you a hug. You hugged her back, resting your head on her shoulder.

The rest of the Pogues soon surrounded you and hugged you. You smiled as everyone hugged you.

-

About 30 minutes later, everyone was standing around a large fire that had started to burn all the twigs and branches scattered across the yard, when a Range Rover pulled up next to John B’s van.

You were not surprised when you saw Rafe get out of the car. “Oh hell no..” John B scoffed, walking over to Rafe.

“John B.. John B. Relax. I’m just here for Y/N.” Rafe smirked as he looked over at you, holding his hand out to stop John B.

“Rafe. Get out of here.” You told him, staying near JJ just in case he tries to do something.

“I got you, I got you.” JJ whispered in your ear, placing his hands on your hips as he held you close.

“It was your mom again.” Rafe’s voice got louder as he started to walk closer to you.

“I don’t care about her. Now leave.” Your heartbeat began to rise as he got closer and closer.

“Nah, I don’t think I will do that.” Rafe was now four feet in front of you.

“Hey, buddy, back it up!!” JJ yelled, staring at Rafe to make sure he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“Aw look, you have a bodyguard. How adorable. You know, Y/N, me and you had history. I used to be your bodyguard. Isn’t that right?” Rafe smirked at you.

Before anyone could react, Rafe grabbed you by the arm and pulled you towards him. He held you close to his back, his arm locked across your chest.

“You dickhead!” JJ screamed and ran over to grab you.

Suddenly, Rafe pulled out a gun, causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

He clocked the gun at you, the barrel sitting right on your head. You gasped, tears trickling down your face.

“Tell them, Y/N. Tell them what we were.” Rafe said, smirking as he looked around at the group.

“Put down the gun and I will!!” You yelled, only causing Rafe to push the gun onto your head more. You let out a yell.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you just better tell them now.” Rafe looked down at you, smirking.

“Me and Rafe,” you sniffled, looking down at the ground. “we had.. history. More than what I have told you. We… we dated.” You let out a choked sob.

Rafe slowly moved the gun away from your head. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned, stilling holding you close to his body.

All of the Pogues looked at you in disbelief. You couldn’t even find it in you to look at JJ.

“Cmon, Y/N. Let’s go.” Rafe gave your friends a little wave before he walked over to his car with you and shoved you into the passenger seat.

You were unable to fight him. You gave up, just staring at the floor of the car.

As Rafe started the car up, your friends started to run after you. Rafe quickly backed up out of his spot and peeled away. The last thing you saw out of the passenger side window was JJ, looking scared and very upset.

[axwalker]

Jealousy--One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2. Engagement Tour. 

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

WORDS: I’m using my WD golden ticket so 3,000 words. 

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT!! 🍋🍋🍋 A very frustrating Drake and Alexis.  

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 !!!! 

I’m participating in the  @wackydrabbles​   prompts. This week’s prompt is “I can’t do this anymore.” 

I apologize for any grammatical errors.   

Tags in the comments ;) 

DRAKE

Standing next to my window, I admire the Roman ruins of the Palatine hills as the royal train rolls into Rome. I’ve always loved Italy, but something about this trip is getting to me. It might be the woman occupying the cabin next to mine. It might be the fact that my best friend is almost as crazy about her as I am. Almost. He can’t possibly care for her the way I do. I down the rest of my glass and pick up a simple shirt and a pair of pants for tonight’s banquet. Fuck the black tie.

Since O’Brien came back to court, I tried to avoid her as much as I could. As a result, I’d cut off a leg tonight just to lay eyes on her again. I crave her like a drug. I spent the last few days debating with myself, and each day I grow a little more desperate, my arguments growing wilder and less probable by the minute. “Maybe” is how every single thought began, each one borne of desperation. Maybe I can make Liam understand that I’m crazy about the woman he loves. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve been lying for months. Maybe Alexis will realize that she wants a quiet life with me. It’s a weakness on my part; I just need to get through this banquet without giving into it.

Thank God there’s a bar. I’m going to need something to make this experience tolerable. I grab a whiskey and drink half of it before I even head to my table. I’m halfway there when my eyes meet Kiara’s. She’s been leaving me flirty messages since we built the barn to celebrate Liam’s engagement. She’s a beautiful and smart woman but I couldn’t be less interested. 

“Come with me,” she says, pulling at my elbow. “I saved you a seat.” 

At that very moment, Lexie walks in. She’s wearing a red silk dress that matches her lips, pours over her curves, and reveals only a hint of cleavage while allowing you to imagine what you can’t see too fucking easily. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back, highlighting her long neck and her gorgeous face. As always, I seem to settle on her mouth. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her wear red lipstick before, and, for some reason, this opens an entire box of fantasies. I want to see it soiled. To kiss her so hard that neither of us can breathe. To pull back and find that mouth ajar, panting, the lipstick a red blur around the edges., I want it so badly I’m not sure how I’ll get through the goddamn night without having it. My hands sliding that silk dress over her head, learning every inch of her the way I’ve dreamed about for months. Except right now, Lexie’s eyes are fixed on the point where Kiara’s arm is linked with mine, and her expression—sad and wounded—is like a knife to my chest. I step away from Kiara, grabbing my drink and draining it. “I’m sitting with Maxwell and Olivia,” I tell her firmly. 

 “Doesn’t Lexie look gorgeous?” Max asks. My eyes move across the room again. Her red dress shimmers, sticks on her curves. `

“She looks like she needs more clothes,” I complain. 

“Olivia helped her choose that dress,” Max says with a brow arched. “It fits her like a glove.” 

“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s sort of the problem.” 

My gaze is still on her, though. Moving up from her hips to her waist to her breasts, back up to that mouth of hers. I picture it again; the lipstick smeared, her breathless under me. And then a single hand cups her hip bone, visible through the thin silk, and I’m ejected from my fantasy at high speed. My lust transforms into rage in a single breath. Fucking Signore Francesco Lombardi. When everyone finally takes their seats, I discover that she and Francesco are at the table on the other side of mine, giving me a painfully direct view of the two of them. Whenever she stands, his eyes are on her, devouring her. He paws at her when she returns, jumping to pull out her chair but managing to get his fucking hands over approximately sixty percent of her body when he does it. And if he tries to look down her dress one more time, I’m definitely taking him out. I don’t give a fuck about our diplomatic relationships with Italy. I go to the bar again and ask for another glass of Macallan. Tonight it’s either get drunk or completely lose my shit in front of hundreds of witnesses. Pretentious food and great speeches are given out that I don’t notice. She is more real to me than anything in this room or out of it, the only thing I can see. No one knows her fears like I do. No one knows how fragile she really is, how deeply sweet. How funny and smart and kind. But I know. And for all the fighting we’ve done, there aren’t two people in this room as made for each other as the two of us. My world is constructed entirely of rules about what I owe Liam –my education, my career, and so many other things. But somehow, it excludes the only thing that matters to me. Her. If it weren’t for how Liam feels about her, she’d be here with me tonight. I watch her say something to Liam, and he nods, his eyes telling her how he feels. Jealousy runs through my veins. 

 “Enough,” I say quietly as I stand. I don’t know what possesses me to follow her. I know, with every bone in my body, that I have no claim on her. But I saw that look in Liam’s eyes, the one that says he’ll do anything for her, and I found myself on my feet. She’s halfway down the hall by the time I reach her. She looks over her shoulder warily when she hears me, but she is too late. I’m already there. I grab her elbow before she has time to react and pull her into an empty office. She stiffens and pulls back, ready as always to fight. Eyes flashing and hands on her hips. Seething before I’ve even said a word. “You have no right to—” That’s when I cup her jaw and capture that mouth I’ve longed for the whole goddamn night.

ALEXIS 

 His mouth comes down on mine, demolishing my pathetic attempt to object. He seizes it thoroughly, with such certainty, as if he’s spent his entire life practicing for this precise moment. His hands raking back through my hair, his tongue finding mine as he presses against me. His mouth moves over my neck, and he groans, a noise of both despair and satisfaction. 

“You didn’t want me a week ago, but now you do?” I start to push back, but he holds me tight against him. 

“I just don’t want you stuck in a shitty ranch with a poor veterinarian when it all ends. It was never about not wanting you.” I know there are other reasons why I’m supposed to object, but they escape me. I’ve wanted this too long, his hands on my body, my skin pressed against his, and his mouth creating a trail of kisses down my neck. It’s right. I’ve known nothing in my life with such certainty as the fact that nothing in the world matters more to me. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and then he pulls one strap of my dress down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder and collarbone, almost reverently. Nipping with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He pulls the dress down to my waist, unclasps my bra with a single hand. He cups my breasts, bringing his mouth to them in the same way, sharp and sweet at once and creating a need in me so intense that it borders on pain. I gasp and arch toward him, submitting entirely as my head falls backward against the wall. He pulls back just enough to see my face. His chocolate eyes are dark now as he searches mine, looking there for something he desperately needs. Permission. He wants permission. As if I’d ever tell him no. 

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.” 

“You’re sure?” His voice is gruff with desire. And when I nod, he pushes the dress over my hips and allows it to slide to the floor. His hands follow, skating over my hips, down my thighs, and I stand before him now in nothing but panties and heels. “That fucking dress nearly killed me,” he says, smoothing my skin as he kisses me again. He pushes against me, his shirt against my bare skin, his erection pressed hard to my stomach, a quick pulse there as if he is desperate for friction. He slides his index finger under the elastic of my panties. The moment he touches me, my whole body jolts. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re already soaked.” His finger slips back and forth, lightly, in torturous circles before it pushes inside me. 

“Oh God,” I whisper, my body bowing toward him. He adds a second finger, and this time his groan is louder than mine. 

“Jesus, Lex,” he growls. “You’re going to be the end of me.” 

I unclasp his belt and unzip his pants reaching down to pull him from the confines of his boxers. He is thick and heavy in my hands, hissing as my fingers wrap around him, tugging gently. 

“Stop,” he exhales after a minute. “I’m not gonna last if you do that, and there are so many things I want to do to you first.” 

He pushes my panties down and lifts me up almost simultaneously, turning to deposit me on the table behind us. He kisses me once, hard. “Lie back,” he commands. He drops to his knees, spreading my legs so I’m displayed before him. Suddenly, his fingers are joined by quick swipes of his tongue. 

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Drake … just—”

 His mouth and tongue lick and brush and pull, creating flames that begin there and spread all the way to my toes. I try to move, but his free hand clamps down on my thigh, holding me in place. 

“I’ve dreamed about doing this every goddamn night for months, Alexis. So let me.” 

I can’t even nod in agreement because suddenly, everything inside me is building so quickly that I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going. 

“Oh,” I gasp. And then his fingers push inside me and I explode with a cry of ecstasy and surprise, arching against his mouth. He doesn’t pull back, but instead slides his hands beneath my legs and tugs me closer, buries his face to create wave after wave of something I never thought would happen in the first place. 

“Holy shit,” I breathe. He leans over to kiss me and when he does, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him against me so suddenly that he gasps in my mouth. 

“Lexie,” he groans. 

“Please,” I whisper. It seems impossible for anyone to be more satisfied than I am now, yet I still need the very thing Drake wants most, the thing he is so sure he shouldn’t give. He looks tortured and pulls back, but I tighten around him, pressing him against me. “Don’t even think about stopping right now.” He shifts his hips just enough that he is pressing right there, not inside me but mere seconds away from it. In a single pulse, he could be buried deep inside me. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice tight. “Do we need …” 

“No,” I beg. “Just do it. I’m on the pill.”

He pushes in, barely. He’s so thick that already I’m stretched to the point of pain. 

“Oh fuck, Lexie,” he whispers. “God, that’s so good. Just give me a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.” 

Finally, he moves once more, going slowly, a low noise deep in his chest as he finally shoves all the way in. 

“Are you okay?” he asks between clenched teeth. I nod as I adjust to the size of him, pain still outweighing the pleasure. It’s when he starts to withdraw that the pain recedes as a burst of pleasure sucks the air from my lungs. It feels too good, something so vast and all-consuming it can’t possibly end well. I never finish this way but oh my God… If it were ever going to happen, it would be now. His next thrust is faster, more certain, but he stops entirely at my sharp inhale. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks. 

“No.” He didn’t hurt me. He stunned me. His strokes come slow and rhythmic then, as he leans over, finding my mouth with the table bracing his weight, his arms taut. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he says, holding still inside me. 

“Keep going,” I beg. “Don’t stop.” 

“Patience,” he grins. “You have no idea how hard it is not to come right now.” 

I grab his ass and push upward, ignoring his warning, thrilling at the low grunt he makes. “Alexis,” he growls, “goddammit.” 

His hips jerk back and then forward, almost involuntarily. It’s all I need. I cry out as it happens again, everything inside me bursting. He thrusts quick and hard, desperate now, and then stiffens with a single guttural noise as he pushes in one final time. He falls against me, his mouth against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. It’s closer than I’ve ever been to another person, and I would like to stay here, just like this, forever. But after a moment, I open my eyes when I realize what we’ve done. 

It’s a little like waking from a dream. What the fuck have I done? The best sex I’ve ever had and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made just occurred simultaneously. The guilt and astonishment collide with each other. It was wrong. No matter what other considerations there are, I just slept with Liam’s best friend.

I know I don’t owe Liam anything. I came to Cordonia to see if there was something between us beyond that kiss in New York, and there wasn’t. He’s engaged to Madeleine and I’m hopelessly in love with his best friend. Bu this isn’t about me. This is about Drake. 

I just became that woman. The kind of woman that would stand between two brothers. The type of woman capable of breaking a lifelong friendship in a moment of lust. 

I know that sooner or later, Drake will resent me, us, if he loses Liam. Somewhere inside, I knew that, but because I wanted him and was jealous of Kiara, I chose to ignore it. He looks up at me, and his smile fades. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks. There’s dread in his voice. His jaw hardens. “You regret it.” 

“Drake,” I sigh, nestling in his chest. “It’s not that. It was…amazing. I just need to figure this out.” 

“Figure what out?” 

I bury my face in his neck. I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. I wish there was a way he could just hold me and take me to his cabin and work this all out on my own later. But there’s not. “What happens next. I mean, it shouldn’t have happened. We both know that. Liam… “

“No,” he snaps, pulling away. “Do not bring him up. Are you really going to let the way it might look to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not it’s okay? This is about us, Lexie. No one else.” 

Except it’s not everyone outside this room. It’s him. Until a week ago, Drake was determined to push me away. He didn’t want to betray his best friend. He told me over and over again that he wasn’t that kind of man. That he would never forgive himself. 

I let my need obliterate every reasonable thought, as usual. And in doing so, I’ve let myself down and—far worse—I may have put Drake’s friendship with Liam at risk. I pull away and grab my dress and bra off the floor. 

“We have to get back out there before someone notices we’re gone.” 

He buttons his shirt. “So you want to go back and continue flirting with Liam like this didn’t just happen?” he asks.

.

It’s right then, at that precise moment, that I realize that no matter what happens, Drake and I will never be together. Liam will always be there, between us. Right now, in our post-orgasmic bliss, Drake is not thinking straight, but I know what he will be telling me tomorrow morning. Or at least how he will be feeling. Guilty. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” I take a deep breath to calm myself. “So what matters most is that we both get through the banquet like nothing happened.” 

“And then what?” He growls.

His anger doesn’t scare me. “Can we please just get through the next hour?” I ask. “Liam is out there. Olivia, Max, Kiara are out there. The most important thing either of us can do right now is to act like nothing’s wrong.” 

He fastens his belt and moves to the door, his jaw rigid. He’s doing what I asked, but I hate that he’s leaving mad. I’m doing this for him. I don’t want him to lose the only relationship in his life that matters to him. “Drake, wait—” 

 “For what?” he demands. “I just fucked you on a table, and now you’re sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?” With those parting words, he crosses the door and walks out, leaving me heartbroken. 

[winking]

🤢🙁🍔

[simplee-dreaming]

The Monsters

A/N: This is a Supernatural tickle fic requested by an anon.

Word count: 1294

Summary: Sam and Dean try to jog their sister's memory by turning into the scariest monster of all...

-------------------------------------

“GIVE ME THE KNIFE”

“NO!”

“GIVE ME THE DAMN KINFE Y/N OR SO HELP ME GOD”

Sam ran into the kitchen to you and Dean fighting.

“What the hell is going on here?!” He asked.

“GIVE ME THAT DAMN KNIFE!” Dean shouted again, ignoring his brother.

“GET YOUR OWN DAMN KNIFE!” You yelled back. You extended your arm as far as you could so Dean couldn’t grab it, despite him holding you in a wrestler’s pose on the floor. Sam looked at your hand to see what knife of theirs you had stolen this time.

It was a butter knife.

Sam chuckled softly.

“Really guys?” He said.

“I JUST WANTED A SANDWICH AND SHE SWIPED MY KNIFE!” Dean yelled. You winced as his face was close to your ear.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET YOUR OWN DAMN KNIFE, THIS WAS MINE FIRST!”

Dean grunted and you shrieked as he used every last bit of strength to pin you onto your stomach. You kept your arm out and frantically shook it left and right so Dean couldn’t grab it.

“I swear Y/N, give me that knife or you’re gonna pay.” He said sternly. He lunged for the knife again and you quickly swiped your hand away.

“Fine. I guess I’ll have to resort to plan B.” He said. He lay down on top of you and you grunted.

“Shift your fat arse, you’re crushing me!” You said. He adjusted and resorted to sitting on your back instead. He latched his hands around your ribs and started squeezing. You instantly withdrew your arms and shrieked.

“DEHEHEAN NOHOHO!” You cried.

“Give up the knife or I’ll keep going.” He warned. He moved his hands up and wiggled his fingers into your neck. You screamed and cackled.

“AHAHAHAHAHA DEHEHEHEAN STOHOHOHOHOP!” You laughed out. Dean knew this was your weak spot, and he also knew how to make sure it tickled bad.

“Give me that knife.”

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHAHAHA”

Dean sighed loudly and dug his fingers deep into your neck. You let out a loud scream and fell into silent laughter. You kicked your legs and banged your hands on the ground until you finally threw the knife across the room. Dean stopped immediately and skidded over to the knife.

“Finally.” He said, getting up to make his sandwich.

Sam gave you a hand up and laughed.

“How many times have I told you not to mess with Dean?” He said.

“I’m not scared of him.” You said, sternly.

“You should be.” Dean said, twiddling the butter knife in his fingers. You scoffed at him.

“And why’s that?” You asked.

“Because Sammy and I are your big brothers, it’s only natural to fear us.”

You scoffed again.

“I wouldn’t fear either of you if you turned into giant monsters and threatened to eat me.” You said. Dean tilted his head at you and then looked at Sam.

“So you’re saying that even if we were monsters you wouldn’t be afraid of us?” Sam asked. You nodded.

“Hm. That’s funny. Considering you were terrified the last time we were monsters.” He continued.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“When you were a kid, Sam and I were monsters and you were so scared of us.” Dean said.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, looking at them both.

“Don’t you remember, Y/N? Dean and I turned into monsters a lot. We always used to hunt you down. And you always begged for mercy.” Sam said, slowly walking towards you.

“I’m confused.” You said.

“Remember how your screams became laughter? Does that jog your memory?” Dean asked. You looked at him blankly.

“Seriously? Nothing? Alright, well maybe this might help.” Dean said, moving towards you.

Sam leaned in closer and brought his voice down to a whisper.

“Remember...the tickle monsters?”

Your eyes shot open and you looked at them both.

“N-no no no..” you protested.

“Scared now?” Dean asked.

“Guys I’m Y/A now, I’m too old for that game.”

“Who said it was a game?” Sam asked.

“Uh-oh, I...I think I’m transforming…” Dean said.

“Shut up Dean, you’re not funny.” You said.

“Who’s Dean?” Sam asked. You glared at them.

“Oh dear, I’m changing too!” Sam said. They both clung to each other in an over dramatisation of a transformation.

“You’re both pathetic.” You said, but your heart was pounding.

“Hm, now is that any way to talk to your tickle monsters?” Dean asked.

“We’ll give you 5 seconds.” Sam said.

“I don’t need…”

“5…”

“No, guys, I…”

“4…”

“Stop it.”

“3…”

“I’m serious!”

“2…”

“Sam come on.”

“1…”

They both lunged towards you and your instant instinct was to leg it. You bolted up the stairs and slipped into your room, you slammed the door shut and stood in front of it, but your strength couldn’t match theirs. They both burst into your room and tackled you to the floor.

“GET OFF” You screamed.

“Just like the good old days. Ready Sammy?”

“Ready Dean.”

Sam wasted no time in drilling into your hips whilst Dean shoved his hands under your arms and tickled your armpits. You shot your arms to your sides and tried to twist away.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA” You screamed. Dean smiled at you and picked up the pace.

“STOHOHOHOP IHIHIHIT” You screamed in between fits of laughter. The boys looked at each other and simultaneously said “nah”.

Sam started wiggling his long fingers into your tummy and you started thrashing.

“SAHAHAHAMMY NOHOHOHOHOHO” You tried to push him off but you arms were still involuntarily pinned to your side.

“Awww, does Y/N have a ticklish little tummy?” He teased. He lifted up your shirt slightly and gently tickled the bare skin. He knew light tickles were worse for you. He laughed along with you before lowering himself and blowing a big raspberry on your tummy. Dean stopped in shock at the shriek you let out from that raspberry.

“Do that again, Sam.” Dean said. You let out a chorus of no’s and tried to protect your tummy with your hands but Sam grabbed them and pinned them to your sides before blowing raspberry after raspberry on your tummy. He giggled at your shrieks and decided to nom which made you shriek even louder.

“I think you’ve just uncovered a second weak spot.” Dean said. You shrieked and giggled at the ticklish feeling of Sam gently nomming on your tummy.

“Alright, my turn now.” Dean said. He moved himself up to your head and stuck his fingers into your neck. You screamed loudly and tried to move your shoulders up to protect yourself but you couldn’t.

“NO  NO NO NOHOHOHO AAHAHAHAHAHAHA” You screamed, unable to take the feeling.

“You’re just too ticklish for your own good, Y/N.” Sam said. He still had your arms pinned to your sides as he blew more raspberries on your tummy. You soon fell into silent laughter and your face went bright red. Both boys stopped immediately and let you up.

“You...are...evil…” you panted, propping yourself up against the edge of your bed.

“We had to jog your memory somehow.” Sam shrugged.

“And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy that. You always loved it when we tickled you as a kid, constantly begging for more.” Dean teased. You elbowed him and he laughed. Sam put his arm around you and cuddled you close.

“Sorry if we went too far.” He said, kissing your forehead.

“It was fine...Dean’s kinda right…” You whispered. Dean raised an eyebrow at you and tasered your side, making you shriek. He laughed.

“I miss being a kid.” You said, sinking your head into Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re always going to be our baby sister though, Y/N.” Sam said, holding you closer.