#over to stand in front of me with his ears perked

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Little Miss Sunshine 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Nick Fowler

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Nick and Cloudy.

Summary: a bored man needs a new light in his life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Nick's eyes stray across the street. He's distracted. He shouldn't be with the tall beauty across from him and her sparkling sapphire eyes. She's stunning to look at but he has to admit her conversation is as dull as the tablecloth. He tries not to let it show. He nods and mutters something about the earrings she keeps bobbling her head to show off.

He swallows a yawn. It's a nice restaurant, the food's always good, and yet he feels so nonplussed by it all. He lives the high life. A nice house, beautiful women, an exciting job. None of it hits anymore. It's all so boring.

Even when he's away on some mission, he doesn't feel much. It's all just so ordinary to him. He does his job and he does it well.

His eyes wander again. He's hungry. That's it. They ordered fifteen minutes ago and the wait is making him restless.

He tilts his head as he watches the girl in her hot pink jacket. He's never seen denim that shade before. Her faded jeans are tattered around the ankles and she wears a pair of heavy boots that were likely once a shade of rose but now no more than a dingy grey. She stands on the curb, watching and waiting down the road. The bus comes this way. The patio looks out on a busy street but today, the lively traffic only feels like a nuisance.

She raises her chin to see over the cars. She perks up then unhooks her large knapsack and brings it around the front. She shoves her arm inside and searches inside as she looks down. She rips her hand out and several items go flying over the pavement. She bends to pick them up as the bus nears the stop. Despite her efforts, she's too slow. The driver doesn't see her and drives past.

She stands, clutching a transparent pouch and her pass, her heavy bag weighing down her other arm. She waves helplessly and tries to chase the bus down. It doesn't heed to her nor does the cyclist heading in her direction. She barely avoids the collision and her foot slips off the curb. She lands in a heap between two bumpers.

He frowns as he watches her. He twitches, ready to get up and jump over the little fence onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians pass her by without a single look. Kelly says his name and he looks at her with a 'huh'.

"Pathetic, isn't she?" She looks across the street and snickers.

He shrugs, "seems like she's having a bad day."

"She's an idiot." She insists.

He grimaces and leans back. "You think so?"

"Sure, I mean. Look at that colour. It's not good on her complexion and she's got that bag overloaded. Can hardly blame anyone but herself--"

"She seems busy. On her way somewhere."

"Oh, I'm sure," she snorts and rolls her eyes. "She really looks like the popular type."

"You know what, I'm not too hungry anymore," he says.

"What?" She scoffs.

"Yeah, waiting kinda turned my appetite." He takes out his wallet and counts the bills. He folds them and lays them on the table. "It's on me. You can give mine to a friend or take it for yourself."

He stands and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. She gapes at him.

"This isn't about that weirdo across the street?"

He sighs, "no, you're just kind of... not interesting."

He tweaks a brow and turns on his heel.

"Nick," she squeals after him. He doesn't stop.

He struts down the street and crosses at the lights. It's only then he glances back. She's making a scene, crying at the table. He can't remember why he asked her to come to lunch. She has nice legs but she just laid there when they hooked up last week. It was just another thing that had grown stale on him.

He makes his way along the other side. He keeps his distance until Kelly storms off, engrossed in her phone as she angrily texts whatever enabler responds first. He nears the girl in the pink coat. She sits on the curb. She's deflated. Her bag is in her lap as her legs are loosely crossed as they hang off the edge.

Kelly isn't wrong, just not in the way she said it. The girl isn't pathetic or stupid, just a bit down on her luck. He feels a pluck in his chest, the most he's felt in a long time. He's always been the person where everything just sort of goes his way. This doesn't seem to be very different. After all, life brought this curious figure into his life for some reason, right?

He passes her and takes out his phone, using the front-facing camera to get a look at her as he does. She's young. Judging by the keychain on her bag, she's attending the local college. Makes sense. She probably doesn't need a man his age circling her.

He crosses the street again. He looks at her and a wrapper bounces off her head. She looks back at the litterer as they don't even notice their offense. She huffs and gets up. She checks her phone. She grabs the wrapper and puts it in a trash can nearby.. She drops her shoulders and sets off down the pavement. She might be down but she hasn't given up.

Neither has he. Not yet. He thought he was done, that he had everything, but he's so wrong. He just wasn't looking in the right places; at the right people.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Private Lessons

Rating: Teen and up Audiences

Warning: party theme...

Paring: Chris Sturniolo x !dancer reader

Fandom: Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: being a dancer has it's perks...

Credits to @muwapsturniolo and our dancing convo!

Madison always threw the best parties. She had this way of making everyone feel like a VIP, even if it was just a random Friday night at her house.

The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the energy in the room was electric. As one of her backup dancers, I was used to letting loose when we weren’t on stage. So when Sexyy Redd’s “SkeeYee” blasted through the speakers, my body moved instinctively.

I danced with the girls at first, laughing as we hyped each other up, our movements sharp and effortless from muscle memory. But then—just as I dropped low, rolling my hips to the beat—I felt someone behind me.

Chris.

I didn’t have to turn around to know. I could feel his presence, the way his hands hovered just close enough to make my skin tingle. He matched my movements seamlessly, his chest almost brushing my back.

Okay, so he could dance.

I smirked, pressing back just enough to test him.

Chris didn’t back down. Instead, his lips brushed my ear, voice low and teasing.

"Damn… I might need some private lessons."

I bit my lip, glancing over my shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but those blue eyes held something dangerous.

"Think you can keep up?" I shot back.

Chris just grinned. "Guess I’ll have to find out."

I nearly forgot about it. People say things at parties all the time. I didn’t expect him to follow through.

But then I checked my work schedule, and there it was:

New Private Lesson Booking: Chris Sturniolo.

This man actually signed up for a private dance lesson.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I texted Madison.

Me: "Your boy's brother really just booked a private dance lesson. What do I even do with him??"

Madison: "LMAO don’t play, he’s lowkey smooth. Have fun with that 😭"

I wasn’t gonna lie—I was intrigued.

Chris showed up wearing sweats, a loose hoodie, and that cocky little smirk that made my job a thousand times harder.

"You came prepared," I teased, arms crossed.

"Of course." He leaned against the mirror, tilting his head. "Gotta impress my instructor, right?"

I rolled my eyes, motioning for him to stand in front of me. "Alright, let’s see what we’re working with."

Chris mirrored my stance, waiting for direction. I stepped closer, placing my hands on his shoulders to adjust him.

"Relax," I murmured.

"You’re tellin’ me to relax?" He chuckled, shifting his weight. "Kinda hard when you’re all up in my space like this."

I smirked. "You did ask for private lessons."

"Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d be this hands-on." His voice dropped slightly, teasing, but there was an edge to it.

I raised a brow. "You scared, Sturniolo?"

Chris scoffed. "Nah. Just wondering how long it’ll take before you admit you like me touching you."

Oh.

My stomach flipped, but I refused to let him win that easily.

"Focus," I said, stepping back before he could see the effect he had on me. "We’re starting with basics."

For the next hour, I walked him through body rolls, footwork, and rhythm control. He wasn’t bad—actually, he picked things up pretty fast.

Every now and then, though, he’d find a way to get under my skin.

"Am I doing this right?" he asked at one point, purposefully messing up just so I’d correct him.

I sighed, stepping behind him. "No, your stance is too stiff. Here—" I placed my hands on his waist, guiding his movements.

Chris turned his head slightly, voice barely above a whisper. "You sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to touch me?"

I huffed a laugh. "You’re so annoying."

"You love it."

I didn’t answer.

Because, unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

Chris stretched his arms, rolling out his shoulders. "Not bad for a first-timer, huh?"

"You did alright," I admitted, trying to sound unimpressed.

He smirked. "You gonna reward me for my hard work?"

I raised a brow. "And what exactly do you want as a reward?"

Chris stepped closer, tilting his head. "Dunno. Maybe another dance?" His voice dropped. "Or… you could just admit you like having me around."

I exhaled, shaking my head. "If I admit it, will you shut up?"

"Probably not," he said, grinning. "But I’d love to hear you say it anyway."

I sighed, crossing my arms. "Fine. You’re not the worst student I’ve ever had."

Chris clutched his chest dramatically. "Wow. So heartfelt."

"Take it or leave it, Sturniolo."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, I’m taking it. But don’t worry, instructor—this isn’t the last time you’ll see me."

Something told me he was right.

And for some reason… I didn’t mind one bit.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[robertsbarbie]

i never feel unsafe when i go on walks with tucker because i know at the end of the day he will protect me (even though he’s a big softie) but today yall i was real worried!

[bi-writes]

thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup

mail-order bride

"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"

you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).

a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.

you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.

you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.

the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.

"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"

"wot?"

"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"

"for wot?"

"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"

you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.

simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.

his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.

"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."

you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.

"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."

he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.

"simon?" you whisper.

he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.

"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.

he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.

there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.

"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.

when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.

he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.

joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.

and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.

"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--

"love you, too, baby."

"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.

"if i tell ya, it won't come true."

"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."

he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.

that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 

Antoine shook your shoulders. 

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 

“O-okay.. I guess..” 

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 

“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 

 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter two | formula one imagine

chapter two: a dutchman and an italian in london

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

y/n still has a decision to make, maybe a little visit can sway her vote

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PREVIOUS PART

the next morning y/n found herself sat on her couch with only brando’s loud purrs breaking the stifling silence. the letter from kimi sat on the coffee table collecting the condensation from y/n’s abandoned glass of orange juice as she continued to mull over the decision.

stuck in her mind, y/n stopped petting brando and stared off into the grey skies of west london. she told herself over and over again that decisions like this should be easy. simply, if she wanted to do it, she would’ve known the first time the offer was floated to her. but she didn’t have that immediate burst of excitement, instead she felt her heart stop and hairs on the back of her neck stand up. in that moment y/n had realised that a place that ignited that kind of reaction in her was not a place she needed to be - therapy had worked it seems.

but then again, if it was such a sure no, why wouldn’t it leave her mind? pictures of her in black alongside the young italian, back at the tracks she loved and around the people she admired flashed across her mind.

three polite knocks rung out across the apartment. y/n wasn’t expecting visitors and the front desk hadn’t notified her of any visits or deliveries. it was probably mrs. granger from down the hall forgetting which door was which again so she ignored it and went back to petting brando.

three more knocks, a little more urgent this time, came ringing through the rooms. brando’s ears perked up as he jumped down from the couch and trotted towards the front door.

“brando, come back here,”

y/n whisper-shouted towards the cat who neglected to heed her warnings. tiptoeing into the kitchen, y/n rifled through her draws for a weapon, settling on a ceramic rolling pin as her weapon of choice. as she crept towards the door y/n could hear some quiet bickering being dulled by the thick door and then a sudden pounding at it. brando meowed in surprise and bolted, likely for his preferred hiding place under y/n’s bed.

“y/n open the fucking door i know you’re in there!”

max verstappen. y/n sighed, lowering the rolling pin and opening the door. much to her surprise the dutchman wasn’t alone, peering over his shoulders was kimi antonelli himself.

“were you going to make me into a pie? move out of the way,” max said looking at the rolling pin and pushing past y/n into the apartment.

“yes, i guess you can come in max…”

max shucked off his shoes and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cracking open a red bull. kimi followed apprehensively, taking his shoes off slowly and placing them neatly by the door.

“see! it’s almost like you knew i was coming,” max said with a smug smile, “now where’s my little boy?”

almost on cue, brando strolled back into the kitchen and immediately started rubbing against max’s legs. the dutchman knelt down and scooped brando up in his arms, red bull long forgotten as he doted on the cat.

“now you’ve tormented my son, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

y/n asked, arms crossed and with an unimpressed look on her face. looking over to kimi, the italian quickly ducked his head and fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. max continued cuddling brando, ignoring y/n’s questioning stare.

“i’m giving you two ten seconds to give me a good reason as to why you’ve come to disturb my peace today before i throw you out,” y/n announced. max cleared his throat and straightened his back, much to the chagrin of brando.

“right, okay,” max started, “you gotta take the job y/n. look at his little face,” max leant over and pinched kimi’s cheek, “look at him he’s so young and innocent. think of all the big ugly bullies like carlos and lando, you can’t leave him alone with them!”

“you came to guilt me into taking the job?”

“no!” kimi squeaked, “that was max’s idea. i wanted to come and tell you my reasons myself. i wrote you a letter but i don’t know if it ever made it to you.”

kimi’s eyes locked on the letter on the coffee table and looked back at y/n, eyes getting watery.

“oh. you did get it,” kimi started biting at his nails, “i’m sorry for coming and invading your privacy miss y/ln, we’ll leave you alone now.”

the italian turned to max, pleading with his eyes to go. max held up his hand, jostling brando again.

“we’re not going anywhere kimi, this has gone on far too long. y/n i get that you don’t really want to come back and for very valid reasons, but deep down i know you do. racing is everything to you and i know you changed your mind when you read kimi’s letter.”

kimi’s head shot up, looking at y/n with an unbridled and heartbreaking amount of hope. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, as if to stop himself from blurting out whatever he was thinking.

“that bullshit article about zak is no reason not to come back. he’s doing it on purpose to keep you from coming back. he’s a fraud, we all know he is. he’s terrified of you, that’s why he takes cheap shots at you. you don’t need to go anywhere near him in the paddock but don’t let him keep you away from what you love.”

y/n sighed, her head in her hands but max just grinned, sending a wink kimi’s way.

“you know i’m right y/n.”

“why can’t you be a mentor? you can look out for kimi?” y/n countered, her words sharp like an animal backed into a corner.

“and have to spend more time with george russell? i’m sorry kimi but there’s only one person worth suffering through that for”

kimi didn’t really seem too bothered by the dig at his new teammate, his eyes not leaving y/n’s, holding onto every word.

“so you’re saying that i should have to suffer through that instead?”

y/n smirked at kimi and took her cat from max’s arms. she sat back down on her couch and motioned for kimi to come and sit beside her. the italian sat cross legged, body angled towards y/n. to his surprise the first thing the brit did was place brando on his lap. kimi let out a soft yelp before brando started nudging his head against kimi’s chin. ”he likes you, that’s a good sign. my brando is an amazing judge of character so i trust he would pick out a good work partner for me”

kimi stopped petting brando so abruptly at y/n’s words that the black cat pawed at his chest to regain the italian’s attention.

“so you think we could work well together?” kimi asked in a small voice, making sure to continue stroking brando’s head this time.

“the annoying one over there won’t leave me alone if i don’t say yes,” y/n said, nodding towards max. the dutchman let out a ‘i heard that’ from the kitchen but left the other two to their discussion. “but he’s also right. i love racing and it hurts me very deeply that i can’t do it anymore. but i also see a lot of myself in you and your letter was so sincere it’s honestly changed my whole world view. i’ve been throwing myself a pity party for three years, enough is enough - and i can’t think of a better racer to be a mentor to.”

“really?”

the smile on kimi’s face was all-consuming, his eyes crinkling and a little giggle escaping as well.

“yes. although i am also impressed you came all the way from monaco to ask me.”

max plucked brando from kimi’s lap and crashed into the armchair, “oh he came all the way from italy actually”

y/n’s head whipped back to kimi who shrugged, whispering a small ‘worth it’ under his breath. max continued,

“he messaged me on instagram - my official account so vic had to text me about ‘this kid who wants to see if you’ll go to london with him’. then he drove all the way from milan to monaco and then we took air max here. he’s a very dedicated one you got there”

“you drove from milan to monaco? do you even have a road licence?”

kimi went to interject but y/n kept going, “it’s so early, when did you drive? you didn’t drive overnight did you?” the silence was answer enough.

“that is so not good for you kimi! right,” y/n stood up, dragging kimi with her, “i don’t have the spare room set up yet so you’ll have to deal with my bed. i have some of max’s clothes here that you can borrow but i order you to go take a nap and in a couple of hours i’ll take you both to lunch.”

kimi followed y/n like a little duckling to her room, hearing max in the background grumble about how he never gets offered a bed for a nap. y/n grabbed some clothes from her bottom draw and handed them to kimi.

“sorry they’re red bull branded, that loser doesn’t wear anything else, we just won’t tell toto will we?”

kimi let out another giggle, heading towards the en suite room to change. at the door he turned to y/n who was plumping the pillows and making the bed.

“thank you for taking a chance on me. i promise i’ll make it worth it.”

“don’t worry kimi. i think we’ll be great together. get a couple hours of sleep and we’ll get some food.”

y/n moved towards the door and gave kimi a soft smile as she closed it. the italian felt an even bigger smile break out on his face and allowed himself to let out a girlish squeal - he just had to text ollie about this.

back in the living room both max and brando had moved to the bigger couch and stared at y/n with knowing eyes.

“what?”

“nothing. just by my calculations it took you a whole two minutes to crumble and start the mother duck act.”

“so you don’t want me to come back?”

y/n poked, max sighed.

“you know that’s not what i mean. but it’s cute, it suits you.”

“shut up,” y/n said, fighting off a blush, “do you want to watch some tv while the little one sleeps?”

max yanked the remote from y/n’s hand and patted the seat. it was just like old times, nearly.

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maxverstappen1

liked by olliebearman, isackhadjar and 803,899 others

maxverstappen1: when in rome

view all comments

user1: you’re not fooling me buster

user2: the way this is defo vic being told to create a diversion

user3: sorry to break it to the gal she’s not doing her best

victoriaverstappen: keep me out of this one

landonorris: rome you say

maxverstappen1: that’s what the caption says does it not

maxverstappen1: can you not send me twitter links you know i do not have the abomination that is that app on my phone

user4: so you haven’t seen all the f1 yuri ??? you’re missing out

maxverstappen1: what is yuri?

maxverstappen1: i’ll google it one sec

landonorris: can we get back to my original point please?

maxverstappen1: manners lando!

landonorris: they butted into our conversation ???

landonorris: you’re not in rome so stop lying

maxverstappen1: you’re right 😟

maxverstappen1: i’m in monaco!

landonorris: YOU’RE IN LONDON WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE IN LONDON

maxverstappen1: nuh uh

maxverstappen1: i literally saw you on my morning run today lando

landonorris; don’t try and gaslight me bitch

landonorris: i saw the twitter account of your private jet it says you’re in the u.k. ?

maxverstappen1: that’s an invasion of privacy lando, i can’t believe you

landonorris: THEN STOP LYING

maxverstappen1: wow, big accusation buddy, you must be learning from george

user5: max will never not bring that up

user6: the way y/n and george used to be so close i wish i could’ve seen her reaction to that whole thing

user7: considering he never said anything in support of her after everything that happened… well i don’t think he would’ve gotten much support from her

user8: george russell and y/n y/ln takes a drag i haven’t heard those names together in a long time

user9: real ones know they were the OG brit ship

user10: yall just can’t let a woman exist can you

user11: lando up in the business sorry mclaren you can’t fool me

user12: i think if y/n does come back to f1 she should be allowed to shoot one man a day there

user13: i agree

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the trio are huddled around a cramped table way in the back of the quaint restaurant. both drivers are meant to be following their meal plans but have both gone for the hearty bowl of pasta recommended by y/n.

“i can’t believe my best friend is going to be back in the paddock, i love you my little italian man,” max sighs happily, ruffling kimi’s hair. “but also i don’t care if you’re going to be in the mercedes garage, i need a united front against george this season i am not letting the shit he pulled last season fly.”

kimi suddenly stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, looking at y/n alarmed.

“kimi, stop worrying, i’ve said yes, i’m not going to back out now,” y/n said, refilling the italian’s glass of water, “but i can’t guarantee i’ll be anything but just civil with george.”

“wait!” kimi yells, mouth full of pasta, “ollie and i have always wanted to know what happened between you two, if we’re allowed to know…”

y/n and max shared a look.

“i didn’t know me and george were such a hot topic with the rookies. i don’t know whether to be annoyed or not?”

“well it’s just me and ollie,” kimi slams his cutlery down and waves his hands, “one time i was wearing some of your merch after an f2 race and i was sat with toto when george came in and he took one look at my shirt and just glared at me. it was very weird but we’d never heard of anything about you two.”

“i mean we haven’t spoken in three years so i’d be impressed if there was still some gossip to go around,” y/n turned to max, “but if it’s anything like the last two races, it won’t take long to kick off again.”

max laughed to himself when y/n grabbed his hand.

“what did you say to him allegedly? that you’d put him on his head in the wall… well it sounds familiar…”

both max and kimi gasp, the younger leaning in, on the edge of his seat.

“oh boys, let me take you back to 2019…”

may 2019.

jimmyz smelt overwhelmingly of sweat. fancy sweat, but sweat nonetheless. y/n was stuck in the sea of bodies, clinging to the arm of mick schumacher and her watery vodka cranberry like her life depended on it. many hours earlier she stood proudly on the top step after winning the formula two feature race by an impressive ten seconds, her dancing partner standing second on the podium.

“i’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” mick tried to shout over the booming music. y/n waved her half-empty glass in his face and gave him a thumbs up. the german nodded and turned, starting his fight to get to the bar.

now alone, y/n let the atmosphere of the club and her earlier victory wash over her. yes, she was doing the typical white girl club dance but she’d earned that right on the track. y/n was lost in the music when mick finally returned, balancing his drink, two tequila shots, two limes and a packet of salt.

“i told you i didn’t need a drink, silly,” y/n yelled in his ear.

“the barman told me podium sitters had to have a tequila shot, jimmyz law?”

y/n took the shot glass from him and one of the limes. mick licked two lines on his hand and poured out the salt. she raised her eyebrow at him.

“what? we’ve done worse?”

she leaned forward and licked the salt from the german’s hand, threw back the shot and sucked on the lime. tequila shots still hadn’t gotten easier. mick beckoned her forward and whispered in her ear, “miss monaco winner, i fear we have an audience.”

y/n pulled back and looked around jimmyz. lewis hamilton was nearby, taking off his comically wet shirt for a captive audience after daniel had insisted on emptying another bottle of champagne on the brit. sebastian vettel had dragged an unwilling charles to jimmyz, who despite the thunder in his eyes, tried to dance along with his teammate. the trio of rookie brits were all off to the side, both lando and alex were trying their luck with the many girls alongside them in the vip booth but george stood alone. he was glaring, y/n thought it was at her but on a closer look, george was attempting to murder mick with his eyes.

“well doesn’t he look like a ray of sunshine,” comments mick, spinning her around again. “i should probably go check on him, that williams was as shit as ever today, he doesn’t take losing very well.”

y/n thinks she hears mick mutter a little ‘he should get used to it’ but elects to ignore it. she lets him spin her once more before making her way over to the booth.

“penny for your thoughts mr russell,” y/n asked, dragging him to sit down in the booth with her. george sits down but puts some healthy room between them and looks around, paranoid.

“leaving room for jesus, georgie? don’t worry, i won’t tell if you don’t?”

y/n laughs at her own joke but george looks less than impressed. y/n face falls as she takes a long sip.

“hey, i know today was tough but you don’t have to take it out on me i’m just trying to talk to you.”

george grumbles something under his breath. y/n looks at him, asking him to repeat himself. george looks out onto the dancefloor, not replying.

“you clearly have a problem, can you spit it out or i can just go back to mick.”

“i’m sure you’d love that”

“excuse me?”

george scoffs and goes to stand up. y/n gets up just as fast, a little unstable on the heels she thought she could handle for just one night out.

“i said i’m sure you’d love to go back out there and rub all over mr nepotism out there,” george shouted spitefully.

“i’m allowed to dance with my friends george. i don’t see what the problem is here.”

george wipes his face in frustration, “that’s the issue - you don’t think. what if people were allowed to film in here. a video of you like that, licking his hand like that - imagine what they would say?”

“i don’t have to imagine when you seem more than happy to say it yourself george.”

“i’m trying to be a good friend, clearly someone has to think of these things if you won’t”

y/n laughs bitterly, “my knight in shining armour, thank you for taking time out of your day to metaphorically slutshame me so i don’t have to.”

george groans and slams his drink down onto the table.

“mick is not just a friend, he is a competitor. there’s a difference. people will say things - that you’re sleeping with him to get an advantage, that you’re using him and his name to get a seat in formula one,” george said, exasperated.

“or is that just what you think?” y/n said, looking up at george with tears in her eyes.

“no! of course not, but people will say that y/n you have to be careful.”

y/n’s tears turned to hot, angry tears, the tequila shot pushing her to say the things she would usually push down.

“let them. if what you say is true, they’ll say it even if it’s not true. who cares? what do you expect me to do when i make it to formula one? take a vow of celibacy and not leave my hotel room every weekend?”

“i’m not saying i agree with it but this is how the sport is right now unfortunately. your image will matter so much more,” george said, trying to grab her hand but y/n yanked it away from him.

“george, people will call me a slut no matter what i do - i’m not going to let it stop me from celebrating when i want to, when i deserve to,” y/n hissed, she’d had quite enough of this conversation, this is not what a monaco winner does to celebrate.

“they won’t respect you if they see you like this,” george pointed to her dress, a short black number that showed off her legs but had a high neck, “they definitely won’t respect you if they see you dancing like that with mick or licking his hand.”

y/n’s head was hot, she needed george out of her sight or this could get ugly. “it sounds like i’ve already lost your respect, or did i even have it to begin with?” george protests, but y/n kept going.

“why do you really want to keep me at home? do you want to have me all to yourself, is that why mick is bothering you so much? or can you not stand the fact that i might beat you next year? a girl you deem a slut might be faster than you? might get a better seat than you faster? i might be a girl and you might think in some fucked up way that you have dibs on me because you’ve known me so long but let it be known, you try and pull anything with me on track and i’ll put you on your fucking head in the wall.”

y/n turned on her heel and stormed out of jimmyz.

present.

“oh shit.”

max whispered while kimi sat with his mouth open, struggling for words.

“we were young there,” y/n goes to explain, “but he ruined that monaco win for me. i think in a weird way he was trying to help but it came out wrong.”

the waitress had come to start clearing away the table and kimi was still gaping like a fish.

“that was so much worse than i was expecting. am i still allowed to tell ollie, i promise he won’t tell.”

y/n chuckled, “you can tell who you want, kimi, i don’t really care. it’s a fun tidbit, maybe if he pulls a fast one again with either of you it’ll be a cute ted’s notebook segment.”

“now that would make the sky prices worth it.”

GQ Man of the Year Red Carpet Live Updates

excerpt of red carpet interview between Y/N Y/LN and interviewer

interviewer: hi y/n! wow you look beautiful tonight!

y/n: thank you so much, you look amazing too!

interviewer: oh! you’ve got me blushing…

y/n: that’s my job!

interviewer: it’s amazing to see you, this is your first public appearance in over three years, we’ve missed you!

y/n: i know, i was nervous for tonight, i thought maybe i’d be on the red carpet and everyone would’ve forgotten who i am…

interviewer: we could never forget you

y/n: that’s too sweet

interviewer: especially when you’re turning looks like these

y/n: i know, three years of religiously wearing sweat pants, i knew i had to dress to impress

interviewer: don’t leave us for the sweat pants for that long i beg

y/n: i think you’ll see me out and about more often don’t worry

interviewer: is that a hint

y/n: it can be… as much as i would love to give you the exclusive darling, i have a contract i have to abide by

interviewer: very intriguing… well thank you for stopping and talking with us tonight

y/n: no worries! i’ll see you around

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the apartment was quiet when y/n returned from the GQ Man of the Year event, max and kimi had only been there for a couple hours the day before, but already the apartment seemed scarily empty. brando slinked up to y/n brushing against the expensive fabric, meowing for food as if y/n hadn’t gotten the notification for his automatic feeder.

“oh stop being so loud, baby,” y/n slumped down on the couch, kicking off her heels, “i might order some food and give you some scraps if you’re nice to me.”

the back of the dress was too complicated to tackle on an empty stomach so y/n resigned to eating cheap takeout in her designer dress. the chicken shop was embarrassingly frequent in her recent orders but she purchased her usual order anyway, not like she had a diet like the others anymore.

after just five minutes of scrolling through twitter, seeing her fans having a meltdown did bring a smile to her face, the bell went. her usual chicken shop was good, but not that good. however, in a good mood, y/n swung the door open with a smile.

“oh. you’re not my chicken shop order.’

“no. i’m not. but you are a mercedes mentor now?” lewis hamilton said with a tenacious smile.

“i’m kimi’s mentor,” y/n reminded him quickly, opening the door enough for him to enter.

“quite a get up you’re in,” lewis said, “quite a way to annouce your return.”

y/n poured a glass of water for him, “technically sky announced my return. you sad you missed me at mercedes?”

lewis smirked and moved around the kitchen counter. he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “what could you teach me?”. the air was thick with tension and the room was suddenly a lot hotter, y/n didn’t know where to look or how to reply. as she stood there, just inches away from lewis with her mouth open, ready to reply, the bell went again.

“that’ll be the front desk with my food,” y/n choked out, moving back towards the door and taking in a deep breath. she took the food from the concierge and slips him some money as a thank you.

y/n placed the order on the counter and flicked her eyes back over to lewis. “i’d say we could share, but this is definitely not vegan. was there a reason you came? i didn’t even think you had my address?”

the smirk again. “i can’t just want to come and see you? in his excitement max was very loose-lipped, but i can’t say i’m too angry about it. i would’ve preferred if you had trusted me with it from the start…”

“no one had my address,” y/n replied.

“max did.”

“max is different”

“how so?”

“he just is, okay? i didn’t think anyone would want anything to do with me after the crash. i just wanted to wallow in peace”

“please don’t assume how i feel about you again,” lewis finished his water and moved towards the door, “i’ll leave you to your food, don’t be a stranger in the paddock.”

lewis picked up her hand and gave it a quick kiss and left as fast as he came.

what the fuck. the door shut and y/n was floored. what just happened?

whatever it was, it would have to wait until after she had eaten to be processed. while plating her food, y/n picked up her phone and opened her text thread with max.

i’m serious dude, stop giving people my address.

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fin.

note: oh wow so this series blew up - i'm serious i got such an influx in followers i'm so glad you guys are enjoying it! some new players have entered but you'll just have to keep guessing! one warning, i do go back to work thursday so updates will slow but one of my new years resolutions was to write more anyway!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998

[psychoticfemmm]

drunk on you

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: After a wild night of partying, JJ takes care of his drunk girlfriend, enduring her chaotic antics and relentless demands for kisses while the Pogues tease him endlessly.

The music thumped loudly in the background as JJ Maybank maneuvered his way through the crowded beach party, your drunken laughter echoing in his ears. You were practically draped over his shoulder like a giggling mess, your hand clutching the strap of his shirt while your other hand lazily waved at everyone passing by.

“JJ! I’m having so much fun!” you slurred, your face lighting up as you spotted him glancing down at you. “But I need—wait for it—another kiss!”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t need another kiss, princess. You need water. And maybe a nap.”

You pouted dramatically, squirming in his grasp. “Nooo. JJ, you’re being so mean. Just one!”

He stopped for a second, setting you down on your feet so you could look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “What did I just say? Water first, then maybe kisses,” he teased, a crooked grin on his face.

You leaned closer, practically pressing your forehead against his chest as you whined, “But you’re my boyfriend! It’s your job to kiss me whenever I ask.”

“You’re impossible,” JJ said with a sigh, but the fondness in his voice gave him away.

From a few feet away, Sarah, John B, Pope, and Kiara watched the scene unfold, laughing amongst themselves.

“She’s relentless,” Pope said, shaking his head in disbelief. “JJ looks like he’s babysitting.”

“Hey, at least she’s not crying,” Sarah chimed in, smirking. “That’s progress.”

“She’s definitely about to though,” Kiara added, watching as you flung yourself dramatically against JJ’s chest, shouting something about him being “the worst boyfriend ever” for withholding kisses.

“Alright, that’s it,” JJ declared, bending down and effortlessly scooping you into his arms bridal-style, just like in the picture. “I’m cutting you off. You’re done.”

You gasped, throwing your head back in faux outrage as your legs dangled over his arms. “You’re kidnapping me! Someone stop him!”

“No one’s stopping me, sweetheart,” JJ said with a laugh. “You’re out of control.”

The group burst into laughter, John B pulling out his phone to record the whole scene.

“JJ, this is gold,” John B said between laughs. “I can’t wait to show her this tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare!” you shouted, suddenly animated, though your words were slurred. “John B Routledge, I swear, if you—JJ, make him stop!”

JJ rolled his eyes, adjusting his grip on you. “You think I can do everything, huh? I’m already carrying your drunk ass.”

“Because you love me,” you replied with a smug grin, poking his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah,” JJ muttered, though his smile betrayed him.

When you finally made it back to the house, JJ gently set you down on the couch. You flopped over dramatically, your arm draped over your face.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” he said, handing you a bottle of water.

“I’m going to hate you in the morning,” you quipped, though your smile said otherwise.

JJ rolled his eyes, plopping down beside you. “Fine. One kiss. Just one.”

You immediately perked up, your face lighting up as you crawled onto his lap and kissed him. It was a bit clumsy and overly enthusiastic, but JJ couldn’t help but laugh into it, pulling you closer.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” he said, pulling back before you could start again. “We’re in front of the Pogues, for crying out loud.”

Sure enough, Sarah, Kiara, and the rest of the group were standing in the doorway, watching with grins and smug expressions.

“Aw, JJ,” Sarah teased. “You’re such a softie.”

“Shut it, Sarah,” JJ shot back, his cheeks red.

“I think it’s cute,” Kiara said, nudging Pope.

Pope smirked. “You mean hilarious.”

You, however, were too busy giggling in JJ’s arms to care. And despite the teasing and chaos around him, JJ couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, you were his chaos—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You groaned as sunlight streamed through the window, making you squint against the bright rays. Your head pounded, and your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton.

“What the hell…” you muttered, shielding your eyes as you slowly sat up.

From the doorway, JJ leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed and a smug grin plastered on his face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his tone entirely too cheerful.

You glared at him. “Why are you so loud?”

“Not my fault you had a little too much fun last night,” he teased, walking over and plopping down on the bed beside you.

You groaned, dropping back against the pillows. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, I’m definitely reminding you. Do you want to hear about how you demanded ‘one more kiss’ like, a hundred times? Or how you tried to fight John B because he wouldn’t stop filming you?”

Your eyes shot open, and you turned to him with horror. “I did not.”

“Oh, you did,” JJ said with a laugh. “And you called me, and I quote, ‘the worst boyfriend ever’ because I wouldn’t kiss you in the middle of the party.”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning. “I’m never drinking again.”

JJ leaned down, brushing his lips against your temple. “Don’t worry. I think it was adorable. Drunk you is my favorite.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said with a grin. “But don’t worry, princess. I’m here to take care of you.”

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Because at the end of the day, JJ always had your back—whether you were sober or not.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

since you guys loved the last JJ fic𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

send requests! ⋆˚✿˖°

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.

"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."

"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.

Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?

Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.

So for once, you could breathe easy..

Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.

He must get a kick out of watching you perish.

"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"

"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"

"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."

Silence.

"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."

"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"

"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."

"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.

But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.

"Is the document for sale?"

"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."

You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.

Sebastian's Document

Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?

For some reason, it made you frown a little.

"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.

"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"

"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"

For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"

"It's more of a courtesy to you."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"

".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"

"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."

With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-

"Hey."

You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.

"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."

Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."

"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."

Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.

What you did was certainly a nice gesture.

He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.

[navybrat817]

Feeling in a mood today. Would you consider some angst with Bucky? You can ignore!

I feel like angst isn't my forte, nonnie, but I'll try?

Stood Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you out on a date and doesn't show.

Word Count: Almost 1.2k

Warnings: Angst, sadness, insecurities, embarrassment

A/N: This may get a Part 2. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You chose a simple black dress for your first date with Bucky. It wasn't too dressy or over the top, but still nice enough that you hoped it caught his attention. If the sight of you could put a soft smile on his face and warmth in his stunning blue eyes you'd consider it a win. Maybe he'd even tell you how beautiful you looked.

But your date was supposed to start almost an hour ago, and he still hadn't arrived.

You perked up when you looked toward the door, only to feel disappointed yet again when it wasn't Bucky who walked in. Checking your phone, you scrolled back through the messages. You had texted him earlier in the week to be on the safe side and he confirmed all of the needed date information; date, time, restaurant. You arrived at the right place at the right time on the right date. It was all you looked forward to this week.

You thought Bucky was looking forward to it as well since his last message was, “Can't wait to see you, doll.”

The sergeant looked almost nervous when he asked you to grab dinner with him. You were pretty sure he ran a hand through his hair three times before he got the question out. But the way his eyes lit up when you said yes, it was a look you’d never forget.

“It’s a date,” he had smiled, your heart fluttering. “Maybe we can go dancing after? Or we can dance in one of our apartments? Or we can play it by ear.”

“I’ll wear my best dancing shoes.”

You were trying to stay optimistic that he would show, but the knots in your stomach tightened when you realized he still hadn't replied to your follow up messages since you got to the restaurant. Did he have to take a last minute mission and couldn't let you know? Was he just running late? Or did he simply change his mind about the date?

“Where are you, Bucky?” you whispered, praying he wasn't hurt or worse.

The server cautiously approached your table once you set your phone down. “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m fine,” you forcefully smiled, gesturing to the untouched glass of wine in front of you. “I’m still… waiting,” you added, your voice cracking on the last word.

A look of pity crossed the server’s face. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt other eyes on you, too. You didn't want their sympathy or anything else for that matter. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

You managed a nod and nothing more, your eyes burning as you blankly stared at the menu. It didn't make sense. Bucky wasn't the kind of man to stand someone up. He wouldn't leave you in the middle of a restaurant by yourself without a good reason. Right?

Your hands shook when it went past the hour mark and you typed one more message to Bucky. “I’m still at the restaurant and worried since you aren't here. I hope you're okay.”

It took another fifteen minutes for it to finally sink in that Bucky wasn't coming. As much as you didn't want it to, it hurt. So much. Luck wasn't on your side when it came to relationships, but you thought this would be different because, well, Bucky was different. You should've known better though. You should've known him asking you on a date was too good to be true.

The server made eye contact with you across the room and quickly made her way over when you took out your wallet. “Oh, that glass is on the house. Unless there's anything else I can get for you?”

“Oh. Um. Thanks.” The gesture brought tears to your eyes, and you wished you could bury yourself in the ground then and there. “I don't need anything else, but I still owe you a tip for taking up the table for over an hour,” you said, leaving some cash on the table and giving her one last smile as you stood up on shaky legs. “Have a good night.”

“Ouch. Stood up. Been there before.”

“Oh, shit. I think she’s crying.”

“Poor thing. She was sitting down before we got here.”

The whispers from the patrons were practically screams in your ears as you left, and you had to steady yourself once you got outside. The cool air did nothing to soothe you, and wiping your cheeks didn't stop the tears from falling. Humiliation aside, your heart ached. Putting yourself out there wasn't easy, but this sort of rejection hurt more than a firm “no”.

Worry seeped in because you didn't want to believe Bucky would do this on purpose. What went wrong? Why didn't he show up? There had to be a reasonable explanation.

You dialed his number, your heart stopping when his voicemail popped up after a few seconds. “Hey, this is Bucky. Leave me a message.”

You cleared your throat to speak. “Hey. It’s me. I waited for you… at the restaurant, but I guess… I guess you just couldn't make it, so I'm heading home.” You paused to sniffle and prayed he wouldn't catch it if he listened. “Can you just… let me know you're okay? Please, Bucky?” you asked, hanging up before you could say more.

The little optimism you had left faded completely when you checked your messages one last time. The messages had gone from delivered to read. He got them and didn't respond. Not one single word. He just… ignored you.

Maybe everything was fine with him after all and he realized you weren't good enough to go on a date with.

Choking on a small sob, you tucked your phone away. You didn't bother with a cab. The walk could help clear your head. You didn't care if the distance would ruin your shoes. It wasn't like you had anyone to dance with tonight or any other night.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered to yourself, curling in on yourself as you walked. It hurt, but you’d be fine. You'd suck it up, put a smile on your face, and convince everyone that all was well because that was the way it had to be.

But how would you face Bucky come Monday? You still cared about him, but how would you be able to look him in the eye and hide the hurt you felt from being left all alone in that restaurant? How would you move forward together if he didn't want you?

No, not together. There was no togetherness at the moment since Bucky stood you up. He clearly didn't want you. Maybe he never did and he only asked you out as a fluke or some obligation so people would stop trying to set him up.

You wiped at your cheeks again. The unknown was going to keep your mind racing until he told you why he didn't show. He owed you some sort of explanation.

But tonight, you'd walk home alone with a heavy heart and hoped that whatever Bucky was doing that he was okay.

I need a happy ending for them immediately. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[alisonsfics]

words unsaid

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after months of flirting and unconfessed feelings, you and carmy get in an argument when a customer gives him her number.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, angst, carmy being completely unaware of everything

After wiping down your stations for the night, you and Carmy headed to the lockers to grab your bags. You both were exhausted after a hectic night.

“You have any plans for the rest of the night?” Carmy asked, curiously. You shrugged, looking over your shoulder at him as you fiddled with your locker. “You mean besides eating leftover pizza and then passing out from exhaustion?” You joked. You heard a small chuckle from Carmy.

He noticed you were tugging at the locker and the door seemed to be stuck. “Here, let me help you with that.” He offered.

You stepped out of the way and let Carmy take a shot at it. He jiggled the handle a few times and then was able to tug it open. “My hero,” you teased, as he walked back to his own locker.

If you had turned around, you would have seen the pink tint on Carmy’s cheeks.

“Anyway, did you want to maybe go grab a drink. I mean, only if you’re okay with postponing your pizza plans. Those sounded important though,” he teased you. You were one of the few people that Carmy would actually joke around with.

You jokingly scoffed at him. “My commitment to my leftover pizza is none of your business, Berzatto,” you responded, trying to maintain a serious tone. Once again, the sound of his soft chuckle met your ears.

“Hey, guys. Our last table wanted to personally thank their chefs.” Richie said, sticking his head around the corner.

Carmy gestured towards the door, politely letting you walk in front of him. Richie guided you both to the booth that currently seated three women. They were the only remaining customers from the dinner service.

Richie quickly introduced you both to them, and then he headed back to help with clean-up.

You noticed that two of the women seemed to be smirking at their other friend. “The food tonight was absolutely amazing.” One of them perked up and complimented you both.

You politely smiled, letting Carmy take the lead since he was the owner. You saw his posture shift as he went into customer service-mode.

“Thank you very much. Thank you for coming to visit us tonight. We’re glad you liked it.” He said, putting on a polite smile.

Carmy didn’t see it, but you noticed the two women quickly raise their eyebrows at their other friend. She then directed her attention to Carmy.

You knew where the conversation was going, and you hated how it tugged at your gut. You felt a heavy weight on your shoulders, and it took a lot for you to fake a smile.

Carmy was an attractive guy, and he was a chef, which was a pretty good recipe for success. You saw customers fawn over him constantly, but it never got easier.

That being said, Carmy wasn’t technically yours, but he was. He wasn’t your boyfriend by any means, and you weren’t his girlfriend. But, he dropped everything any time you called, and he’d do anything for you.

Your relationship was sometimes flirty, but neither of you had ever taken it further.

“Yeah, the food was really excellent. You’re an amazing chef. I definitely have a reason to come back.” The woman said, coyly.

You forced yourself to bite the inside of your lip, so you could keep your pleasant facade. You noticed their check sitting on the table and decided to use it as your excuse out of there.

“Thank you again for coming,” you said, smiling, grabbing the check, and heading back towards the kitchen. The woman looked like she finally realized you were standing there.

Carmy quickly thanked them again and followed right behind you.

Once the kitchen doors closed behind you, you turned to Carmy. “Being a chef does it every time, Berzatto,” you teased him.

Instead of being met by his usual grin, you saw him tilt his head as he tried to figure out what you were talking about.

“What do you mean?” He finally asked, when he couldn’t figure it out. You waited for a second, almost thinking he was playing dumb. “She was hitting on you, Carmy.” You told him. His eyes widened as he looked at you. “No, she wasn’t,” he argued.

You looked down at the check you were holding, which confirmed your suspicion when you saw a phone number written across the bottom of it.

“Really?” You asked, sliding the check into his hand. Your hand grazed his as you did, which almost made Carmy short circuit. He looked down at the check in his hand and saw the phone number clear as day.

“So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked you. From his perspective, he was asking how he was supposed to let her down and tell her he wasn’t interested. You didn’t take it that way.

“Well, if you’re interested, you call her.” You explained. He was speechless. He stood in front of you, not having a single coherent string of thoughts in mind.

“Wh…what—what do you mean?” He stumbled over his words.

You were practically fuming. You thought that you and Carmy had a thing going on, but he seemed to be pretty interested in asking this girl out.

“Are you interested? Do you want to go on a date with her?” You asked, your tone coming out a little more hostile than you intended. You were just jealous and even more unsure of where your and Carmy’s relationship stood.

“I…I don’t know,” he stammered, taken aback by this whole situation. He was getting love advice from the girl he wanted to be with, but was getting love advice for a different girl.

“Well, you’re the only one who can figure that out,” you huffed and quickly walked away from him. You knew if you continued the conversation for another minute, you’d start crying.

You grabbed your work bag and slammed your locker shut. “Woah, you okay?” Sydney asked from beside you. You hadn’t even noticed she was standing there. You took a deep breath before responding.

“Not really, you wanna go get a drink?” You asked her. She could tell that something had really gotten to you. “Yeah, of course. Is it about Carmy?” she asked, quietly. You just nodded, biting down on your lip and trying not to tear up.

“It’s okay. C’mon, let’s get you out of here,” she said, wrapping her arm around you as the two of you walked out the back door.

Still stunned from the whole encounter, Carmy walked into the office to hopefully clear his head. He sat in there for thirty minutes, continuously replaying his conversation with you in his head. He knew you were mad, but he wasn’t sure why. He was also thrown off by why it seemed like you were encouraging him to go on a date with the other woman.

After wracking his brain for answers, he still had nothing, so he headed towards the back alleyway to smoke a cigarette. He found Richie doing the same thing.

“You okay, cousin?” Richie asked, clearly being able to see how on edge Carmy looked. “Fuck no,” Carmy mumbled.

“Is this about your girl?” Richie asked, having already gotten a text from Sydney that explained what happened. “She’s not my girl, Richie, but I think we’re in a fight, and we’ve never been in a fight before. I just don’t know why she’s mad.” Carmy explained.

“You don’t know why she’s mad?” Richie asked in shock. Carmy looked at him with a confused look and shook his head.

“You two have been flirting and hanging out more and more. Then, you tell her that you maybe want to go on a date with this other girl. You don’t think she’d be hurt by that?” Richie asked him. Carmy didn’t understand why everybody was suddenly an expert on his relationship today and why he was so out of the loop.

“What do you mean, we are just friends.” Carmy argued, not being able to admit anything to the contrary, “wait, how do you know about our conversation?”

“Sydney told me. She’s busy trying to cheer Y/N up because she’s pissed at you.” Richie said, quickly brushing past it, “how does the idea of her going on a date with someone else make you feel, cousin? Like when you watch those customers that stare at her,” he asked.

Carmy hesitated. He knew the answer. “I fuckin’ hate it, but I’m just being protective. We’re friends, and I care about her.” Carmy replied, still in denial.

“Cousin, do you really think colleagues go out for drinks after work and get coffee together before work as often as you guys do? You know all her favorite movies, and her favorite flowers, and the words to all her favorite songs. And that big dinner you made for her birthday,” he told Carmy. Hearing all of it like that made Carmy realize how special your relationship was, but he was having trouble admitting it out loud.

“I’m a chef. I make food for people. It’s what I do.” Carmy argued, not even believing his own excuse.

“Yeah, because it’s like your fuckin’ love language, dickhead. How did you not see this?” Richie asked.

Carmy didn’t know what to think. “So are we like together?” He asked, stunned. Richie shook his finger at Carmy.

“Not until you finally grow a pair and actually make a real move. Ask her out to dinner, tell her how you feel, give her some grand gesture.” Richie told him.

Carmy stood still for a moment, processing what he had just heard.

“Where are her and Syd right now? I need a ride.” He told Richie, desperately. Richie quickly grabbed his car keys, and they both headed out the door.

“I know we’re not dating, but I just don’t understand why he didn’t say he wasn’t interested. Like, surely I can’t be imagining all of the flirting and how sweet he’s been.” You rambled to Sydney, taking another sip of your drink. Sydney nodded along.

“Maybe he felt like he was put on the spot because I’ve seen how he looks at you. He really cares about you but just has a shit way of showing it.” Sydney mentioned.

You looked down at the bar, slowly stirring your drink around. The front door of the bar quickly opened, slamming against the wall. Both yours and Sydney’s gaze went right to the loud noise.

You both saw Carmy burst into the restaurant. His eyes searched around until they landed on yours. He rushed towards the end of the bar where you and Sydney were sitting.

He stopped in front of you and caught his breath for a minute. “I am so fucking sorry. You are my everything, and I really fucked it up. And I don’t even know what I was saying.” He started to ramble.

You were shocked to say the least. “Carmy, you wanna go talk outside?” You suggested, assuming some privacy for this conversation was probably a good idea. He quickly nodded and held out his hand to help you down from your seat.

Sydney gave you a reassuring smile, and then you felt Carmy’s hand on the small of your back as he followed you outside. Now that he had a better grasp on your relationship, he felt much more confident, which made him more affectionate. And you loved it.

He rushed in front of you, so he could hold the front door open for you. You both saw Richie waiting outside. “Syd’s inside. Can you give us a minute, cousin?” Carmy asked him. Richie quickly nodded and headed inside to freak out with Sydney that they were so close to getting you two together.

“I didn’t mean any of that earlier. I was just confused, and it felt like you wanted me to ask that girl out. So, I was questioning if you felt the same way I feel about you.” He apologized. He had to stop himself from grabbing your hands. He wanted to, but he wanted to apologize first.

“Enough of what I want. Tell me before I waste anymore of my time. Carmen Berzatto, what do you want? Do you want to be with me?” You asked him. You felt like you were being harsh, but you wanted everything to be out in the open.

“I want to be with you so fuckin’ bad.” He said. One of his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He used his other hand to cup your cheek and close the distance with a kiss.

Richie and Sydney saw the kiss through the window and had to stop themselves from cheering.

You stumbled forward a little since Carmy had pulled you towards him so quickly. He tightened his grip around your waist, while smirking into the kiss. You let your hands rest on his forearms, feeling his biceps flex under your fingertips.

The kiss was rushed, fueled by months of pent up feelings and the fear of losing each other that you both had experienced. Neither of you wanted to let the other go.

His lips tasted like spearmint as they moved effortlessly against yours. There was a loud clap of thunder above you both, and the sky opened up as it started pouring.

You both pulled out of the kiss in shock at the freezing rain that was hitting your skin. You both just grinned at each other, knowing how picture-perfect this moment was.

“You wanna go inside?” He almost had to yell for you to hear him over the rain. You just shook your head. You wanted to enjoy every single second.

He grabbed your hand and spun you around in a circle, watching as the rain droplets flew off the ends of your hair.

You were smiling and giggling. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back into a kiss. “You are perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed you.

He finally pulled out of the kiss when he noticed you shivering. “This is magical, but I’m not gonna let you get sick.” He said, wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you back inside where you were met by the smiling faces of Richie and Sydney. They both immediately pulled you into a hug.

“You know how hard we had to work for this to happen because you both wanted to be in denial for months that you’re head over heels for each other.” Sydney teased you both. You just smiled at Carmy, and all you could think about was how the rest of your coworkers were going to freak out when they heard.

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[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 13)

Goddammit, you never felt this small before. Sure, all hybrids are twice or thrice your size, but why do you feel this way only now that you were standing in front of Johnny's kneeled down form?

He was kneeling down. Kneeling down. And was still bigger than you standing up.

He was large too. All of them were, really. Men as buff as them naturally had large bodies—it was impossible not to notice that their arms were as thick as your torso.

So....

How exactly were you supposed to fight with him?

It's a play fight, just a play fight, but still, you didn't know what to do. This was insane, how could someone like you fight with a werewolf his size...? And he wanted you to "mess him up"??

You should've suggest playing UNO instead, this is torture.

"Mhm.... I-I... dunno what to do...?" You mumble, uncertain. Your eyes flick to his form—the way excitement buzzes through him, his tail wagging fast behind him, ears pressed flat against his head. His toothy smile never wavering.

Big canines too, bigger than Ghost's.

"It's easy, lassie." He cooed, voice more controlled and calmer than what his body language was showing. "Come on, ya trust papa, right? Papa will never hurt ye."

"I don't know how to fight...." You insist, frowning a little in worry, still shuffling quietly in front of him.

“Don’ have tae. Wha’ does a wee pup ken?” He snickers, rolling his eyes as his accent gets stronger out of nowhere. “Ah just like ma kids messin’ me up! Ye can bite, scratch, or anythin’ else, really. Ah can take anythin’, ye wee runt!”

You hesitate, still looking over his form in worry and confusion. You didn't even move from your position, just holding onto your hoodie as you rubbed your socked feet with each other.

Johnny’s excited, competitive demeanor softened a bit as he sized you up, his tail wagging less and his ears perking up again.

“C’mere, puppy, c’mere… pstpst, it’s alrigh’…” He cooed gently, beckoning you closer with a small hand gesture. “Come tae papa, he’ll teach ye everythin’, aye?”

You blushed in embarrassment at his attitude, letting out a quiet sigh as you approached, still clutching the sleeves of your hoodie.

He immediately flashed you a big, toothy grin—sincere, yet still intimidating. His dangerous demeanor remained as scary as ever. Honestly? He looked kinda insane.

And then—

Big hands grabbed you, making you gasp in surprise as he took you down onto the mat. Technically, he just kinda grabbed you and eased you onto your back, but still—you weren’t expecting it! It was fast.

“Down ye go.” He smiled in a terrifying mix of gentleness and smugness. “Now what, wee bonnie baby?” His tone was pure challenge.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, frozen for a few seconds. His big palm rested gently on your chest, fingers spread just enough to frame your neck as he held both your shoulders down with one hand, caging you in. His feral eyes and sharp grin never wavered as he loomed over you, kneeling like a true predator.

You breathed in shakily at the thought, both small hands coming up to grasp his wrist, trying to gently push his hand away. Your legs curling up close to your chest.

“Don’ let him pin ya down.”

Ghost’s voice immediately caught your attention, making you turn your head on the mat to glance at him sideways on the edge of the mat. He stood with his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face, watching closely.

“Aye, runt, why’re ye lettin’ me pin ye down?” Soap teased again, one of his fingers gently rubbing your cheek from where he held you against the mat.

You bit your lip at the provocation, anxiety creeping back in. You pushed with a bit more force, trying to make his hand move, but weakened your grip when he laughed mockingly, leaning his head down dangerously close to yours.

“Look at this… nae claws at all, such cute wee fingers… trimmed nails and all, eh, wee baby? Price was talkin’ ‘bout ye humans… how we’ve gotta keep ye groomed right—short nails on hands an’ feet, brushed wee teeth, and trimmed hair… are all humans frail wee thingies like ye, runt?” He snickered, a broad, teasing smile stretched across his face.

"Big talk for a dirty mutt." Ghost joined in, voice low and raspy as he steaped on the mat, feet covered in black socks.

You immediately tensed up in worry at his tone, eyes widening as your body locked up. It sounded harsh, and for a moment, you genuinely feared they might start arguing right then and there.

But...

Johnny just laughed it off, his smile still wide, his hand still pressing you down against the mat as he kept an eye on Simon entering the mat from his peripheral vision.

“Are ye gonna get in the way, Si?” Soap asked menacingly, tilting his head slightly, baring his teeth at the other man.

“No. I don’t plan on fightin’ ya. I’m here for the kid.” he answered simply, dropping heavily to his knees by your side. "Come on, fledgling. His fingers are wide spread, tuck your hands under them."

You blinked up at him, stunned for a few seconds, before quickly glancing back at Johnny’s hand. Letting go of his wrist, you forced your hands under his fingers, slowly but surely lifting it off your shoulders and chest.

Sure, Johnny wasn’t putting much strength behind it, and he was still cooing at you the whole time, but you managed to take his hand off of you, only for Simon to roughly shove Johnny down onto the mat.

“Hey!” Soap laughed, falling onto his back, his elbows holding his body up.

"Go, up, come on." Simon nudged you, pushing your sitted form in Johnny's direction gently.

You got to your feet, slightly unsteady, feeling the gentle push of his hand that made you tumble on top of Soap, who was just staring at you with a smile.

“Hurt him. Go for his neck.” Ghost instructed, arms crossed as he watched you both.

“Wi’ these wee hands?” Soap cooed mockingly, his hand coming up to gently grab yours and rub with his thumb.

Ghost sighed quietly at your lack of reaction, watching you sit on top of Soap’s waist, your hand held in his, looking uncertain. Truly, zero instincts with this one.

“Gaz was right… it really does feel like when we had only newborns.” Soap laughed quietly, messing slightly with your hand, moving it around. “Ah used tae put them on ma chest for tummy time, too.”

You frowned slightly in confusion at that, head tilting slightly to the side.

"What's that...?"

“Oh, it’s—Ah mean…”

Even though Johnny was still smiling, he frowned a bit too, apparently caught off guard by your question. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. For a moment, it even seemed like pity crossed his face too.

“It’s when ye put babies on a soft surface, belly to the ground, and leave ‘em there. Helps ‘em strengthen their bodies so they can start crawling later on,” Ghost explained calmly, pushing you up slightly higher against Soap. “Now, come on, try to hurt him. He can take it.”

You still hesitated at that, unsure about actually trying to hurt one of your foster parents. Still, you sighed quietly before grabbing the hand that was holding yours and pushing against Johnny's face, hearing him laugh.

"Yeah, that's not going to do much." Ghost commented dryly.

Before you could say anything else, you let out a small, surprised yelp as Soap suddenly switched places with you, grabbing your small body effortlessly and getting on top of you once again, big grin still plastered on his stupid smiling face.

This time, at least, you managed to place your feet against his chest, pushing him slightly away from your body.

"Ya ken, Price's always liked a rough fight," Soap chuckled, a smug smile on his face as his big hand wrapped around your calf. "Me too, o' course, but he's even more violent than me, if ye believe it. Big bastard roughed up everyone as a soldier, an' let all the kids rough him up right back as a parent. He loves it."

"To be fair, most of us do." Ghost nodded from his place on the mat.

"But how does a wee thing like ye plan to do it if ye dinnae even try?"

At that, your leg was quickly pulled back, your body dragged across the mat as you let out a small shriek, only to immediately laugh right after when Soap stopped pulling you by the leg.

Actually, you were so busy giggling in a mix of surprise and excitement that you didn’t notice Johnny and Simon looking at you with surprise and contentment. It took them a bit, but they finally managed to make you actually laugh.

And what a cute laugh you had.

"Guys, come on up, Price still wants to check if her cold's gone away and watch a movie!" Kyle called out from the stairs, smiling gently at the scene.

"Heard that, lass? Hope ye like cartoons, ‘cause we love ‘em!" Johnny smiled excitedly, helping you up onto your little feet.

"I actually developed a liking for them after bein' forced to watch thousands of different ones as our kids grew up," Ghost commented, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Coco's very nice. Would ya like to see it, kid?"

"I'm... not sure...." You mumble, not recognizing the name.

"Yer gonna love it, lassie! Ah guarantee!"

Part 12 /

[poguelandiarafe]

tough guy | rafe cameron

paring - rafe cameron x gf!reader

warnings - mentions of violence and getting stabbed

summary - rafe is telling you, topper and kelce about his day and brings up the fact he got into yet another fight. you don't like this so decide to put him in his place, knowing you're the only one who can (not set in any particular season).

masterlist

--------

to anyone else, dating rafe cameron would be scary, a struggle even. he's a man known for his reputation and will do anything to uphold it. whenever he enters a room all eyes are on him and it amazes you how he commands such attention without any effort at all. his features are strong and bold, just like his personality, and it's this that drew you in in the first place. the way he kept everyone at a distance, not letting anyone in.

except you.

you love a challenge and were determined to be let into his world. you're headstrong, stubborn, and know exactly what you want in life, stopping at nothing to get it. you're hot too, of course, but it's your determination that rafe thinks made him fall for you. it's like he's dating himself your personalities are so similar.

and you love to push his buttons, calling him out on whatever dumb shit he does.

--------

you're sitting on the sofa at tannyhill, rafe's arm slung over your shoulder to keep you next to him as he rambles on about another reckless thing he's done today. topper and kelce are scattered around the living room, taking turns to finish the joint you don't want anymore, listening to rafe. they're seemingly invested in whatever he's saying whereas you sit there scrolling through instagram, paying barely any attention to him.

"and then he pulled a knife on me," he laughs, "was fucking crazy."

your ears perk up, throwing his arm off your shoulder and sitting up to properly look at him. he looks at you briefly before going to carry on what he was saying but you cut him off.

"are you fucking crazy?" you ask, finger poking into his chest.

the room goes silent. topper and kelce freezing, in shock you spoke to rafe like that without him immediately shouting at you.

his eyes narrow at you and his brows furrow, "no? what's that meant to mean?"

"you were reckless, rafe. you can't start throwing punches every chance you get. jj literally pulled a fucking knife on you and you're here laughing about it." you say, voice raising from anger.

"you don't tell me what to do." rafe says, jaw clenched from being spoken to like that in front of his friends.

you match his intense stare, "i think i have every right to if you're putting yourself in a situation where you could die."

"he tried to sink my boat, i'm not just letting that shit slide! it's not like he'd actu-" he starts before you cut him off.

"don't you dare say he wasn't serious! what if he was, huh?" you snap, getting up and standing in front of him, "what if he actually stabbed you and i got a phone call saying you were in hopsital or that your body had been found? then what?"

it's quiet for a moment, rafe thinking over what you said. he feels guilty now, not really thinking about the consequences if something were to actually have happened, his adrenaline having clouded his rational judgement at the time.

"alright, alright. i get it baby. i'm sorry." he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"you're not invincible just because you're rafe cameron. i don't want anything to happen to you."

he stands up, pulling you into him but you don't budge, arms crossed over your chest.

"i'm sorry for being reckless," he whispers into your hair, before he smirks, "but don't act like you don't love that i'm rafe cameron."

you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around him now, "not when you're acting like this, i don't. just... promise to cool it. it hurts me when you come home covered in blood and bruises from yet another fight you've been in."

"okay, i promise i'll try. you're lucky you're hot." he mutters.

"you're lucky i put up with your shit." you counter, a smile on your lips.

while you and rafe were busy arguing, topper and kelce were silently smoking the joint, sharing looks every so often as they listened in.

"how does she get away with speaking to him like that?" topper whispers to kelce in disbelief.

"i have something he can't live without." you quip with a wink, overhearing him.

"okay, gross." kelce says.

"his words." you shrug.

[pholla-jm]

Comfort Me

IMAGINE: COMFORT ME ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: set during the heian period. sukuna is a bit ooc. ~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing you noticed was that the room was dark, with no source of light around you. Your heart was beating incredibly fast and you felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. 

Your previous nightmare caused fear to settle into your every bone. 

You lift your hand, noticing right away that it was shaky. Searching for the one person you wanted to get comfort from. And you knew that he would give it to you. You were his wife after all.

Your lover, Sukuna, wasn’t in the bed with you. A small whimper leaves your lips as you sit up in the bed. You couldn’t see a single thing in front of you, but you knew the layout of your bedroom from heart. 

You scuffle across your bedroom, on a mission to find your husband. If he wasn’t in bed, then he would be in his throne room. Sitting on his throne, just pondering. You didn’t ask what he thought about at times during these, but it was best not to. 

You don’t usually bother him when he’s in there, but right now you really needed him. So with a deep sigh, you push open the door to the room. He was right where you expected to see him. 

Sukuna perks up when he hears the door open, ready to slice the person who dared to enter the room without his permission. However, he stops short seeing that it was just you, his queen. 

“What are you doing up?” He asks and immediately your bottom lip starts to tremble and the urge to just curl up against his chest while his arms hold you against him. 

“I…” You look down at slippers, feeling a bit nervous to say what you wanted to. What if Sukuna ridiculed you for reacting this way to a silly nightmare. 

However, it was quite the opposite to Sukuna. In his eyes, he found you… cute. He would never say that word out loud though. His wife, standing in front of him, wearing a cute nightgown with matching slippers. Hair a bit tousled from tossing and turning, and the way your bottom lip jutted out made him want to kiss your lips. 

“Tell me, what’s wrong my queen.” 

Sukuna spreads his legs, arms uncrossing to make himself look more inviting to you. 

“I had a nightmare…” you whisper. “Speak up. I can’t hear you from over there.” 

You shuffle over to Sukuna, “I had a nightmare.” You say again, louder so he could hear you. 

A tiny smirk plays on his face. He wanted to tease you more and make you say what you wanted him to do. But he thinks you already suffered enough. 

“Come here.” He says holding his arms out for you. You didn’t have to be told twice. You walk over to him, climbing into his lap. As soon as you sit in his lap, his arms enclose around you. Pushing you right into his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, beating against your ear and the warmth of his skin immediately calms your own racing heart. 

It was silent between the two of you for a little bit. Until Sukuna gets up, adjusting you so that he could carry you like a baby. “Where are we going?” You whisper. “Back to bed. I have to protect you from the nightmares.” 

You blush at his words, but still happy that Sukuna was comforting you. 

Sukuna’s steps were smooth, and you couldn’t even tell he was walking. Soon, the both of you are in the bedroom. He gets in the bed, not once dropping you or moving you from your position. 

Now the both of you were laying down in bed. All of his arms wrapped snugly around you and it is exactly what you needed. It felt like Sukuna was protecting you from everything that would hurt you. 

It was like the world outside melted away and it was just the both of you. 

It was perfect.

[alastor-simp]

*•.¸♡ 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕕 ♡¸.•*

✦𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

✦𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝟷𝟾+, 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

✦𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸, 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚎, 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝙿 𝚒𝚗 𝚅 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, , 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚢 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜 , 𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚎, 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝙿 𝚒𝚗 𝚅 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆, 𝙺𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, , 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚢 𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜

✦𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚢 𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚍!! 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍/𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝙲 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

✦𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝: 𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚢 @saradika-graphics

One hand holding your legs, the other carrying your heels, Sylus slowly entered the bedroom. His bright red eyes gazed sweetly at you, as he made his way closer to the couch in the room. Not wanting him to let go of you, your arms tightened around his neck, causing him to chuckle. "If you don't want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave." He maneuvered his body to where his back was facing the couch, arms still holding you up. Pulling him closer, you placed your cheek against his chest, eyes gazing at him innocently, "What if I don't want you to leave...?" Arching his eyebrow at you, his arms slowly brought you down to the ground, allowing you to stand in front of him. "Then...we better make the most of your time before dawn." He said, lips drawn into a sexy smile, as he stepped back, crimson eyes staring down at you seductively.

Your hand planted onto his toned chest, making him huff in delight, before applying pressure, causing him to fall down onto the couch. His eyes widen in surprise, but was quickly replaced with a burning desire, as one of your knees plopped between his legs, allowing you to get closer to him. Tracing his cheek, then his neck, you tugged, bringing his lips to yours. It started with one kiss, then two, then three, until the both of you couldn't keep your lips apart anymore. Large hands pulled you closer, one tracing your butt, squeezing it, and the other cupping your head, deepening the kiss even more.

Parting for air, hot and bothered from the passionate make-out, the both of you gazed at each other with desire. Enamored, Sylus traced his fingers on your lips. "You really don't want me to leave?" He whispers, lips perked up in a smirk before he descended on your lips again. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer into him. His tongue traced your lips before entering inside your mouth, dancing with your tongue, making you moan. Feeling the growing bulge under you, you grinded your butt onto it, hearing a low growl from him. "Sy.....over there." You whispered, eyes glossy. Rising from the couch, his arms held you up, kissing your lips and neck with every step he took.

Placing you on the bed, he crawled on top of you, cheeks colored pink. Smirking, your fingers traced his chain necklace, pulling him even closer, sporting a quiet gasp from his lips. "Looks like we're on the same page when it comes to not wanting to waste time." His hand traced your cheek, eyes filled with sinful lust. Feeling shy, your head turned away, only to be stopped by a hand holding your chin, "Stay focused, kitten." Moving his hand from your chin, he covered your eyes, his voice whispering in your ear. "Don't look." He purred, lips coming back to yours, the taste of sweet honey and fine wine filling your mouth. Hips thrusted into you, groaning into your mouth as his hand moved up your arm, hand finding yours, grasping it tightly. Wanting more, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. Pulling away, he licked his lips, as he let out a small laugh, "Greedy, aren't we, kitten?"

His hands traced your leg, pulling it up to place a soft kiss onto it, sending shivers all over you. "Do you want it, kitten?" He whispered, dropping kisses from your knee to your inner thigh. Your head nodded before you could even process it, making Sylus pull you even closer, causing you to panic, hands placed against his chest, stopping him. Raising an eyebrow, Sylus stopped his movements, but continued to trace kisses from your leg to your chest. "You haven't changed your mind, have you...? You just said "Yes."" His lips continued to leave kisses on you, moving now from your chest to your neck, "I can't hold back anymore."

Biting kisses attacked your neck, back arching from the sensation. "D..don't bite." You mewl out, head in a daze. A deep chuckle vibrated against your throat, as Sylus removed his head from your neck, his red eyes playful. "Mmm..first you want it rough, now you want it soft....You're a tough one to please tonight, kitten." His fingers hooked into your pants, lowering them down slowly, allowing him to see your drenched panties. The bulge in his pants was protruding out even more, as it pushed in between your legs, hitting your clothed lower regions. "What do you really want? Won't you be honest and tell me like you just did?" His eyes locked onto yours, his lower body continuing to thrust between you. Biting your lip, suppressing your moans, you glared a bit at Sylus, "I'm not falling for your tricks."

Pushing his chest, he was now the one with his back against the bed, with you straddling him. His eyes widen for a second before he shook his head, amused with your actions. "Oh, so you want control? Unfortunately, I can't give it you....not yet at least." Warm hands grasped at your legs, pushing you closer, drenched panties hovering above his face. "Sylus!! What are-" Your words were cut off as Sylus leaned closer, teeth pushing your panties to the side, allowing his tongue to tease your lower lips. You let out a gasp, body melting at the sensation, but you felt entirely embarrassed by this position, so you attempted to move, only to be stopped by Sylus hands, squeezing your legs, keeping you in place. His tongue found your clit, flicking and teasing it, making you moan even loader. Unable to resist any longer, your whole body weight planted on his face, moving your hips to grind into it, increasing the pleasure.

Something inside you started to tingle, making you panic. "Sy....let....let go....I'm...gonna...ah." Trying as hard as you could, you try to move away from his teasing mouth, but it proved futile. "Don't run." His husky voice whispered from below you, before moving back, swirling his tongue deeper inside of you. "Mmgh...ah...Sy..ahhhh." You moaned, body quivering from the ecstasy, as you began to release, climaxing inside his mouth. He continued to use his tongue, cleaning what was left. The strength in your body left you, becoming jelly as you slowly fell backwards, back hitting the bed again, twitching from the orgasm. Sylus returned back to his position, hovering on top of you, as he licked his lips, savoring your flavor. "Did you enjoy that, kitten?" He whispered, deeply satisfied with how you were responding to him.

"Y....your... so annoying." You shuddered out, voice hoarse from the moans you had screamed out. Chuckling deeply, Sylus moved closer, giving your forehead a kiss. "I won't deny it. I guess you can say I lied you're not the only one feeling greedy....and I won't be leaving until this greed is completely satisfied." His words were thick with desire, as he spread your legs wide, allowing his body to slot in between them again. "Oh...it seems I misspoke." He chuckled out, making you stare at him confused. "Greed can never satisfied...but you can temporarily soothe it." His hand reaches for the zipper on his pants, pulling it down slowly, his member popping out, allowing you to see it in all its glory, heart racing at the sight. Breathing heavily, Sylus came closer, holding you by your waist, his member prodding you gently, but not entering you. "Say it again. Y/N, do you want it?" His red eyes gazed into yours, waiting for your answer.

You could feel your heart beat out of your chest. You knew this is what Sylus wanted from you, your permission, your consent. Grabbing his cheeks softly, you brought him closer, softly kissing his lips before you pulled away, smiling gently at him. "This is my answer." Lips curving into a tender smile, his lips locked against yours in a passionate dance, hands grasping at your top, pulling it up. Breaking from the kiss, you allowed Sylus to remove your shirt, allowing your bra to pop out. "Heh...cute." He smirked, voice raspy, as his fingers moved behind to unhook it, letting your breasts spill out. Standing up, he opened his shirt wider, full abs and V line on full display, entrance clenching at the sight. Sensual eyes noticed your reaction, lips rising into a cocky smirk. "Like what you see, kitten?"

Too aroused to even utter a word, only thing you could do was nod your head. Sylus laughed again, grasping at your legs, hooking them around his back, chest meeting yours, his gorgeous face in front of you. "I'll go slow, sweetie." He asked softly, making sure you were okay before he started. Nodding your head again, the prodding sensation you felt slowly began to come inside. There was a small sting, making you wince, nails digging into his back. Small kisses planted on your cheek, your nose and your neck, easing the pain a bit. "You're okay.....you're okay." Loving words whispered in your ear, as his length inched slowly, burying inside you fully. "Fuck....your so tight." He deeply grunted, hips paused as he waited for you to adjust. You felt so full, just one small movement from him had you reeling your head back. "Sy....you...can...move."

Moaning into his ear, sent a shiver down his spine, as he removed his head from your neck, saccharine lips smiling at you. Pulling out slowly, he thrusts back into you, going at a slow rhythm before picking it up, ramming his cock inside of you. The spot he kept hitting inside of you made you see stars, as you pulled him closer, hooking your arms and legs tighter around him, screaming out his name. Warm hands had grabbed at your bouncing breasts, fingers massaging them, wet tongue licking away at your nipples. Brain numb, you could only whimper at the ministrations as Sylus continued to pound into you, hitting your sensitive bud.

"So...so good....Mhm!" Nails scratched down his back, red lines left behind as waves of pleasure continued to flow through you. "So good for me, sweetie." Muttering into your chest, he sped up, his cock hitting you deeper. Eye rolling back, loud moans erupted from your lips as the tension of your incoming orgasm was starting to surface. "Sy....Sylus! I-I'm gonna....ahhhhhhh!" His head left your chest, moving closer to your ear, dragging his tongue on the lobe. "Cum for me, kitten." His husky voice, sent you over the edge, as your grasped him tightly, electrified by immense pleasure. Clenching, white gushes of your fluid bursted out of you, as you cried out his name. He soon followed suit, wrapping his arms around you tightly, he grunted out, speeding up.

Throwing his head back, he groaned deeply, pure hot seed filling you up, moaning at the overfilling feeling. The both of you remained in this blissful state, only sound being heard was both of your panting breaths. Body collapsing on top of yours, his head nuzzled against yours, arms wrapping you in a warm hug. "That was amazing. Did you enjoy it, kitten?" Arms feeling like jelly, you sluggishly moved them, hugging Sylus back. "Y-yeah." Chuckling deeply, he peppered your face with kisses, lips planting onto yours once again, giving you a deep kiss. Your hands grasped at his silver locks, rubbing it softly. His hips gave another thrust, hitting your spot again, arching your head, breaking the kiss. "Sy! Wait....give me a minute." His cock never left you, once again rock hard inside your walls. Grinning smugly, he caressed your cheek, "Oh kitten...I believe I did say that greed can never be satisfied."

-END-

[nerdygirlramblings]

did someone say omega!soldier? here you go

previous

The next two hours are a complete whirlwind. You find yourself back in front of Adam, who has the most shit-eating grin, being officially and properly introduced. He holds out his wrist for you to scent, and as you finally tell him your name, you hold out your hand to him. Price passes him your transfer papers and tells Adam to pull together everything he needs to make sure the transfer goes through smoothly. He makes you sign releases for your service records, so your skills can be paired with those of the other 141. His smile freezes momentarily when he apologetically says, "You're going to have to re-qualify on your weapons and do another PT check."

Price cuts in and says, "I'll make sure we get that squared away, Adam. Ye'll have 'er new quals within a fortnight."

Adam also makes you release your medical records. "Need to know anything that would be necessary if you're injured on an operation and can't get to base medical."

You're pulled into a virtual standing meeting with Laswell who was apparently anticipating this and promises to pass this news up the chain of command on her end as well. Price also has you record a quick introduction for him to send along to Farrah and Ale, names that mean nothing to you yet, whom he says are members of other military units who often work closely with the 141 in certain areas of the world.

You're given a tour of the task force's barracks by a grinning Soap who tells you, "Noo tha' you're part 'a the team, you're welcome here whenever ye want."

You end the day walking with the 141 into the mess for supper. The conversations quiet when you walk in after Ghost with Gaz at your back. Hushes comments spreading from the tables nearest the door to further back in the room. It's not like half the base didn't see you with them yesterday, but there's something different now. Yesterday they met you there; walking in together, everyone knows a dynamic has changed.

As you pass by the alpha whose nose you broke, there's the scent of burning ozone wafting from the table, and you hear someone mutter "fuckin' slag."

Before you even register what's happened, you're overwhelmed by the acidic scent of burning rubber. Ghost leans over, grabs the offending soldier by the scruff of his neck, and slams him into the table top. You're standing close enough to hear Ghost when he growls in the other man's ear, "I ever hear ya fuckin' disrespectin' a member 'a my team again, I'll kill ya." Ghost then shoves the man back into his seat and glares around the now silent mess. "Eat," he commands, and heads get quickly buried back into meals, conversation ticking up to cover the oppressive anger still radiating off Ghost.

He stalks silently to a table in the back of the mess, the rest of the pack and you following in his wake. None of the others seem surprised or fazed by Ghost's behavior. You're a little disturbed, in part because you've never been on the receiving end of such protective behavior. Your omega, however, is preening over the alpha's display.

You're sat between Soap and Gaz again, but this time it's Price and Ghost who collect food for the table. You watch them head for the line, their eyes constantly scanning the room, pointing at little pockets of soldiers. You turn to ask Gaz what it means only to find him glaring at other tables, seemingly at random.

When Price and Ghost get back, you're quiet throughout the meal, trying to follow the conversation that clearly picks up threads of things you know nothing about. You perk up when Ghost rumbles your name. "Yer wi' me on the range tomorrow mornin'," he says. "Hear Adam needs new weapons quals." He glances at Price, who nods. "Gunna see wha' ya can do."

You blink at him for a moment. "Er, yes, sir. Er, half five, sir? Or does earlier work better?"

The pack shifts a little. Soap tilts his head quizzically while Ghost asks, "Wot? Why on earth would we be on the range so bloody early?"

You feel a ripple of shame work its way down your back. "Er, I usually go early. Before it gets too crowded." Now Price is looking at you, too. You can see he's trying to guess what you're not saying.

Ghost huffs, grasping things quicker than Price. "Ya mean, ya go before ya piss off alphas simply by being an omega wi' a good eye." You shrug in response, eyes on the table. "Fuck 'em if they can't handle 'ow good ya are." He looks at you, and you can feel his stare burn your cheek. When you can't take it anymore, you glance at him. He catches your eye and says, "Oh eight hundred, sharp, yeah? Ya show me if yer as good as Garrick keeps sayin'."

You swallow quickly, throat bobbing, as you reply, "Yessir. I'll be there."

next

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt finally confronts brat!reader about her sudden distance, but it doesn’t quite go as expected

conversations like these were hard for matt, to say the least — he hated to feel like he was overstepping boundaries you'd so carefully set in any way, but he had to. everything was going so well between you two. for it to all suddenly slip between his ringed fingers like water? he couldn't just sit back and let you push him away like this.

with the silence in the living room, save for the cartoon mazzy had fallen asleep watching beside matt, he felt a familiar yearning in his chest. now had to be the time. he was done psyching himself out of words like he had the past week now.

standing from his spot, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler, matt practically tip-toed over to your bedroom. your head snapped up when you heard the three soft knocks on your door frame, assuming it was matt getting ready to tell you he was heading home for the night, like had become recent routine. matt then cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets in a brief moment of silence. "you're gonna have to tell me what's wrong eventually, " he finally spoke up, heart pounding in his eardrums like they never had before.

"what?" was your immediate reply, playing dumb as your deadpan facial expression remained unwavering.

matt's eyebrows immediately furrowed, knowing you were just playing games with him now. he couldn't be too upset though, or else he'd never get to the bottom of all your weird behavior. "baby, is it something i did?" he questioned, completely disregarding your clueless act, "we can talk this through; we always do. you just have to tell me what's wrong."

the way you looked at him - like he were some sort of lunatic standing in front of you - he couldn't say it didn't hurt. always being 'mr. fix it' was getting exhausting, and for probably the first time since he met you, matt began to wonder if it was all really worth it. all the games you played, tugging at his heart strings and using your guys' child to manipulate him... there had to be something more out there, right? was driving him crazy fun for you?

a clear desperation wrote itself all over matt's face, his expression as he stood so timidly in your doorway making you want to crawl out of your skin. “matt…” you trailed off, shifting your seated position in your bed.

“what?” he replies, voice coming out in an almost whine-like manner. he felt this insatiable sense of dread wash over him, like he somehow knew what you were going to say before you even said it.

but when you remained silent, he just couldn’t take it anymore. “y- y’know what, forget i even said anything,” he finally breathed out, an empty feeling at the idea of giving up so easily — there was nothing else he could do, though. he knew how you were: if you didn’t want to talk, you simply weren’t going to. that’s what he told himself.

and he began to turn away, one hand clinging to your doorframe as if it were telling him he needed to stay. “matt, come sit.”

he stopped in his tracks, ears practically perking up at the sentence. his head instantly snapped in your direction, bright blue eyes widened in surprise when they caught you patting the empty space of your bed in front if you. he almost didn’t believe it, all the negative emotions that had once rushed through him in painful waves seeming to instantly subside as a glimmer of hope fluttered in his chest.

maybe that was stupid of him, but this was a real step for you two. a big one, he was sure of it. he wasted no time in taking a few steps across the room to reach you, carefully sitting in front of you. watching as matt bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation, a nervous habit he’s had all the time you’ve known him, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

matt was so ready. he needed to know what was wrong, eyes eagerly scanning your face at the idea of you finally opening up to him after all this time. “you know you’re a great dad, right?” you muttered, your words much different than what he’d expected.

that caught him off guard, a small twitch in his features telling you he was a bit confused. he wasn’t sure what mazzy had to do with any of this. you two were co-parenting just fine, always have been, whether you were on good terms or not. but he kept quiet, silently urging you to explain yourself.

“and you’re so loving–full of emotions that…” you paused, trying to think of the right words.

somehow, matt was catching on, no longer so pleased with the idea of you ‘opening up’ to him anymore. it was like you’d taken him on a roller coaster he didn’t sign up to ride, and he hated that. “…that i can’t handle.”

right, he knew that. matt knew you were never fond of his big emotions, always telling him he can be too much at times. and he understood. he never wanted to put whatever he was feeling onto you. he wasn’t, though; he knew he wasn’t. so what’s all this about?

it took a moment for matt to think up a response, sighing a bit before he cleared his throat. “i don’t get what that has to do with you acting all weird. i’ve only been trying to keep us together… as a family,” he opposes, shrugging a bit to seem less caught up about this than he actually was.

too quick for matt’s comfort, you nodded, a small hum following. “does that apply to the sex, too?”

almost taken aback, his mouth opened as if he were ready to say something, but nothing came out. “you suck at no strings attached, matthew. i know what you’re thinking every time you come around,” you added, each word like a barbed blade stabbing at an open wound. was this too cruel? no, it couldn’t be—you were only telling him the truth, and god, did he need to hear it. “you think that whenever we’re sleeping together, we’re on ‘good terms’, like it’s grounds for fixing everything and becoming one happy family where your daughter’s parents are happily in love.”

you had him there and he knew it, but for you to just sit and tell him all his efforts are for nothing so easily? he knew there had to be something more to it. you weren’t telling him something. “but when we’re not-”

“it doesn’t work that way. now go home, matt”

and don’t ever say matt was in denial because he’s not… at least, that’s what he told himself as he did the walk of shame from your apartment to his car, that nagging feeling of yearning he’d felt earlier somehow worse now.

w/c : 1.1k

a/n : there will be no part two

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!