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suni-writings · 4 months ago

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Stop hating me.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it

“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”

“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.

Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.

“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?

“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”

As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.

“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”

Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.

“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”

Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.

“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”

She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.

“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”

She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.

“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”

She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.

She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.

“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”

“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.

“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.

“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.

Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.

“Who do you think, princess?”

After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.

The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”

Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.

“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”

She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.

“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.

“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.

Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.

“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.

“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.

His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.

“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”

She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.

“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.

And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?

He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.

“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”

When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.

After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.

As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.

Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.

Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.

He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.

“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”

“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.

He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.

When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.

“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.

“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”

It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.

“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”

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azrielbrainrot · 3 months ago

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Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should he seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him, as the other met to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader

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autisticmudkip · 26 days ago

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October 7th. This marks a year since ongoing genocidal war began in Gaza. A year since Gazans have known safety or peace. A year full of grief, suffering, and death.

Please, take time out of your day to support some Gazan fundraisers today. Help Palestinians who are suffering get food, water, medicine, and shelter for themselves and their families. Here are some places you can start:

Mohammed Iwais @mohdiwais is trying to care for his family of 27 people, and needs help getting warm clothing for them as the weather gets colder.

Vetted by 90-ghost

Abdul Salam and Omar Al-Anqar @nader5555, @omar-1111 are trying to take care of their family, including their father Ahmed, who has cancer and urgently needs medicine and surgery.

Vetted by @/gazavetters, #4 on spreadsheet

Alaa Amsee @alaakh998 is trying to care for her two young children, Maria and Hamza. There is regular bombing around her, and she needs to buy medicine for her son.

Vetted by @/ ibitisams, @/90-ghost, #307 on ButterflyEffect Spreadsheet.

Marah Balousha @freepaleatine95 wants to be able to continue studying computer engineering, but she and her family are trapped in this war instead. Her parents need medicine for diabetes and high blood pressure, and what little belongings her family had where damages or lost when their tent flooded.

Vetted by @/90-ghost on a previous account

Nour Ashour's @noor-yashour 4 year old son Muhammed is disabled and urgently need physical therapy and medications, both of which are hard to get due to the war.

Vetted by @/90-ghost

Hasan @hasangaza is only 19, but he is trying to take care of his family. His older brother urgently needs medication he can't afford or find in Gaza.

Hasan has yet to be vetted, but I have talked to him a lot and his photos again reverse image search, and I genuinely believe him to be legitimate.

Please donate to at least one of them, and multiple if you can. Whether or not you can donate, please share this post, and share some of the posts from each of their accounts. Help them get what they need. They have been living through a year of war, and they deserve a better life than this.

Tagging for reach (please message me if you want to be removed):

@anneemay @tumkaafiho @balaclava-trismegistus @ripley-stark @irhabiya

@kyra45-helping-others @dirhwangdaseul @heritageposts @postanagramgenerator @womenintheirwebs

@tamamita @toesuckingoctober @beybuniki @commissions4aid-international @soon-palestine

@dykesbat @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @punkitt-is-here @turtletoria

@handweavers @economicinflationkink @velvetys @ddeck @lesbiandardevil

@symeona @a-hopeless-aromantic @badgirlsrus @atlasandheracles @cowhidepillowcase

@wamly-the-crab-god @blackpearlblast @olovelymoon-slow-answers @greed-the-dorkalicious @kordeliiius

@cloudedcari @tachycardial @evileyeamulet @pompompotato @shamemp3

@7bitter @tortiefrancis @killy @toiletpotato @fromjannah

@ankle-beez @theultracharmingladynoire @nibeul @wayward-bitch @sweetsweethate

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #october 7 #mohdiwais #nour-yashour #alaakh998 #nader5555 #omar-1111 #hasangaza #freepaleatine95

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gguk-n · 2 months ago

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Chapter 5- Racing for Love

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N spends her time in Netherland with Max while his girlfriend no where to be seen. They spend Christmas and New Year together. Y/N can't get over Max; maybe it's for the best. Max realised he loves her.

{Reader's POV}

I headed back to the hotel after the race to get dressed and meet up with Max. Every one was going to be celebrating Max's win at the club. All the drivers were also joining, making it the perfect opportunity for us to meet. I was so excited. I wore a navy blue body con midi dress, it made me look and feel hot. I had told Max I'd meet him there, yet he insisted on picking me up. I was almost done getting ready when Max knocked on my door. I opened it to a much cleaner Max. I grabbed my purse and headed out with Max. "Is your girlfriend in the car?" I asked walking along with him. "No" he answered and then we walked in silence to the car. On the way there I asked again, "Is she meeting us there?" "No" he replied shortly. "Why?" I asked again. "She went back home" Max said in a tone that meant he didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

At the party, I had a lot of fun. I got to meet everyone who were very kind, welcoming and funny. They were all shocked that Max had a friend for so long that no one knew about, Charles and Lando included. We laughed, we drank, Max was pretty sober, not having touched a drink since we got there. "Why aren't you drinking?" I slurred having gulped down my previous shot of vodka, I'd lost the count of how much I had to drink since I got handed a glass as soon as one finished. "I drove here, we need to drive back to the hotel" he replied. "OHHHHH, LET'S DANCE" I shouted over the loud music. "You should go, I'm good here." Max replied while preventing Lando from toppling over. I sauntered my way to the dance floor, a guy had made my acquaintance as soon as I started dancing and we were having a lot of fun until, Max came dragging me back to where we were sat. "Max, I'm having fun. Lemme go" I whined trying to pull my hand away from his but drunk me wasn't very strong. "Drink some water and then we're leaving." he stated. "What? But we just got here. Look at all those bottle" I pointed at the bottles behind the bartender, "I need to sample those" I cried. "You can sample the alcohol later. We don't want you to get alcohol poisoning." he said shaking his head. "I have a good tolerance. SEE" I said while finally breaking free from him to try to walk in a straight line only to fail miserably and almost fall. I was only saved by Max's crazy fast reflexes, who caught me at the right moment and carried me over his shoulder back to his car, all the while I was screaming. "PUT ME DOWN....MAXIE.....YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY....PLEASE....I THINK I'M GONNA puke" I puked as soon as he put me down next to his car; thankfully having the brain to stop myself from puking all over his expensive car. I brushed the back of my right hand against my lips after puking, "Thank god I didn't puke on your car. haha. I don't think I can afford to clean it" I laughed. He handed me a bottle of water and got me in the car after that. The hang over wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be; maybe because Max got me medicines to help.

I spent the next few days in Zandvoort going to some of the very few places Max was allowed to go and have fun as a kid. We even went go karting. It was a shitty feeling racing against a World Champion since that idiot can't just enjoy the race. He had to make everything a competition. How did he expect me to win when this was the first time I was karting while he did this as a living for many years. We had bet on the fact that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted; in all my confidence I had said yes, I had forgotten that my opponent was Max Verstappen. Yet, when he won after one pout, Max forgot he's the winner and let me get what I wanted since it was technically cheating since this wasn't his first time and it was mine. So, that's how we ended up watching Barbie at the end of the day. As I wiped away tears, I saw that Max was also wiping away tears. I'm never gonna let him hear the end of this.

The next few days were a blur, I tried to make the best of the situation since I wasn't sure when I would get to meet Max again. I packed up my stuff, a question still lingered on my mind; where the fuck was his girlfriend?. So, I decided to have this conversation in the car where he wouldn't be able to escape me like he did the last few days. Max carried my stuff to his car and loaded it in the car. I sat down on the passenger seat waiting for Max to come. We drove off towards the airport when I said, "Maxie, I haven't seen your girlfriend since the race. I was really looking forward to getting to know her" "Oh, umm" he sighed, "Actually, we broke up" he said while looking straight ahead. "What? Why? Is it because you hugged me first at the race. Fuck, should I apologise?" I rambled. "Schat, nonsense. We hadn't been getting along for a while. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her for a while, it just happened when you were there. It's not your fault" he clarified. My shoulders sank while I waited to get to the airport. I bid Max a good bye and he promised to come visit or have me visit during the off season. I promised to meet him soon. With a heavy heart, Max disappeared in the crowd as I walked into the airport.

We went back to our previous routine of talking on video calls. I ended being spoiled a lot more now that he knew where I lived because I would come home to a new package I didn't remember ordering at my front door when I returned from work. If I asked him why, and he'd just shrug it off and say that it was something that reminded him of me when he was in that country for the race. After a few packages, it was overwhelming me. I felt like I was using my rich friend for financial gain. We were on call after I had opened up a package I got from Brazil. Y/N- Max, you can't keep sending me so much stuff. There was a box full of trinkets and snacks from Brazil. Max- It was nothing, did you like it? Y/N- No Max- oh ok, what do you want? I can get that for you? Y/N- Maaaaxxxxx, that's not what I meant. You have to stop sending me stuff now. It's getting over whelming. Max- But...I just wanted to bring a little something back from every race. Y/N- Yes, do that for yourself. Not me Max- I've always wanted to take you along to races and bring you stuff back from races since I've known you. Now that I can, let me make up for all the lost time. Y/N- I get the sentiment Max, I do, but no. It's making me feel crappy since I'm not able to get you anything. I enjoy our friendship, I do not want to feel like I'm using you. Max- You're not using me. I'm using myself, honestly. Y/N- I don't want to come home to anymore packages any more. If you really want to get me something, think about it for a couple time. One or two items that you would like to get for me, is perfectly fine. Max- Ok...I really wanted to get you things though. Y/N- You can tell me about your weekend. I'll listen but this is overbearing to me. Finally he got what I meant.

We ended up making a plan for the off season. Max had won the season with the amount of points he had scored. It was a given that he was gonna be the World Drivers Champion for 2023. So, I wanted to celebrate it with him. He offered to fly me out to Abu Dhabi for the race which would not be possible since I had work. That's why we planned to spend the Christmas break together. I did suggest leaving a few days before Christmas so he can spend it with his family but he was vehemently against it. I had started Christmas shopping in November, could've done it earlier. I got Max an ugly Christmas sweater with the grinch and a matching one for myself. It would be like a friendship bracelet. We would be spending the holiday in Monaco because of the privacy and I wanted to get away from here for a few days at least. I kind of wanted to clear my feeling for Max during this trip too. Being on the receiving end of Max's affection with gifts or the phone calls wasn't easy when you were in love with him. He made it so difficult to try and get over him when he would sweet talk his way back into my heart whenever I thought I didn't like him in that way.

I had sent my collection to the author I was editing for currently since she wanted to read it ever since I mentioned that I wrote. I sent her the email a couple days after going over the collection one last time. It was exciting and nerve wrecking. Maybe getting the opinion of a fellow author would help me make it better and improve it, if need be.

The last race of the season was upon us. Max was crowned the World Driver's Champion for the third time. I texted him as soon as the race ended and congratulated him. I couldn't believe that I got to witness a Max win. The day couldn't get any better when I got a call from the author I was editing for who said that she loved the collection of poems I sent her and she wanted to help me get it published under the publication she worked for. She had been working for that publication for so long and was the biggest earner that they couldn't deny her request. In her defence, she said that the poems were so good that any one stupid would only reject it. I was asked to edit it and the author was an angel to help me out. Her reasoning was that this was a mutually beneficial relationship since she hadn't enjoyed working with someone as much as she enjoyed working with me.

Winter break couldn't come any sooner. I had packed my bags; no work, done with my editing side gig. I couldn't wait to hang out with Max. The flight there felt so long, maybe it was the excitement of wanting to see him. Max was waiting for me at the airport when I got there. A big smile on his face as I walked towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him. He twirled me around a little before putting me down. We walked back to the car with my bag in Max's hand. The ride there was filled with a lot of talking on Max's part. Hearing him go on about what he loved was the warmest feeling. "The cats are so excited to see you" he said. "So, you aren't?" I joked. "What no" he was flustered. "I'm excited to." he mumbled a tint of red visible on his cheeks. My heart leapt in my chest as I watched him blush. What if I wasn't delusional? What if he liked me? I thought.

At his home, the cats were a little cautious of the stranger that had entered their space but recognised me quickly by my voice and a few hours later I was sat with both of them sat on either side of me; petting the two with both of my hands. Max snapped a picture of us sat on the couch. "Can't believe this is the life you live" I said petting his cats, a soft purring exuding from both. "Having cats is the best thing ever" I almost screamed from excitement. Max laughed. "I might kidnap them" I suggested. Max shook his head, "You will do no such thing"

The next few days leading up to Christmas were a a blur, we spent time around the city, walking around and site seeing. Max was a great tour guide since he stored the most random information in his head. He gave me a quick history lesson on a lot of the places we went to. We walked along the track in Monaco since I wanted to. We went hiking; I was very out of shape is the conclusion I've come too. We spent the day leading up to Christmas cooking at home and decorating the place. This was the first time since I moved out from my parents place did I end up celebrating Christmas.

We ended up sleeping on the couch as we watched Christmas movies after tiring our self out with the decoration. I woke up in Max's arms, a warm fuzzy feeling erupted in my stomach as I watched soft snores emit from Max's lips. I carefully pried myself out of Max's grasp. When I returned, I found a disheveled Max sat on the couch. "where did you go?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. "I had to pee" I said, now sitting down on the couch beside him. "Should we open presents?" I asked. "Lemme freshen up" Max mumbled while getting up. He came back, much more awake and with 2 cups of coffee for us. We drank in silence until Max brought his present for me from under the tree and handed it to me. There were a few actually; a book on Formula One with Max's face on it, a pendent with a sapphire stone and a stupid coffee cup saying 'best friends forever'. I smiled as I held the cup against my lips acting like I was sipping coffee. "Thank you Maxie" I said. He just smile. "Now, it's your turn." I said. He grabbed the other presents; which included an ugly sweater, a Sid from Ice Age plushy and a perfume from Max's favourite brand. "These are a lot of things" he said. "Yeah, I wanted to spoil you" I smiled. "I feel spoilt" he smiled back. "I got us matching ugly sweater" I said while going to grab mine. We ended up putting our sweaters on. "I didn't tell you but I got signed by a publication" I said while Max inspected his sweater. He looked up with shock and happiness in his eyes. He quickly hugged me, "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it" he said while hugging me. I hugged back, "Thank you for believing in me" I said with tears in my eyes.

Christmas was a weird day, we had Turkish kabab because Max wanted to. I wasn't one to say no to delicious food. The days between Christmas and New Year were a bit of a blur honestly. On new year's eve, we went out with a couple of his friends. I had decided not to drink my weight in alcohol. As we all counted down the time to new year, the excitement palpable. When the clock struck 12, I was pulled towards the guy next to me who had made acquaintance much to Max's dismay. He pressed his lips against my lips, easing me into a kiss. When I pulled away to look at Max, who's eyes flashed hurt. I hugged Max wishing him a happy new year. We left a little while later. Max was uncharacteristically quite as we drove home.

We never spoke about the silent treatment Max gave me on the way back from the club. I left Monaco a few days after. Our friendship returning to it's long distance status. With Max having to train for the next season and me having to prepare for school and my book.

The next few months were a blur with both of us quite busy. Max kept is his streak of winning the races and watching him win was a proud feeling. He would call me at the end of the day to discuss what happened and I enjoyed listening to him even though I didn't know shit about cars.

I spent the entirety of my spring break and summer break with Max, travelling to his races; which he insisted I joined. The feelings I had for him only grew. I tried to keep myself in check but all the small things he would do made it impossible. He was caring and sweet and kind, and most of all my first love that I had a hard time moving on from.

His summer break was spent lounging around my house. He accompanied me to the launch of my book; going as far as to promote it on his socials. People had started to speculate that there was something going on in between us. Max didn't really answer those questions or even try to kill the rumours. He got me a big bouquet of my favourite flowers when he came to the book launch. We went out for dinner to celebrate; ending up on all the tabloids the next day. I apologised to Max about the mess but he was unbothered, a little smile played on his face after he read the articles but nothing more.

After the summer break, Max was flying out to Netherland, for his home race. I couldn't join him due to there being a few tests I needed to grade but promised to be there for the race. I flew in the morning of the race, Max showing up at the airport to pick me up. He wouldn't let me be on my own, if he was there. We caught up on the stuff that happened in the 2 days we didn't speak. It felt like routine talking to Max. If we didn't, it felt like my day had gone my horribly and everything that could go wrong would go wrong. There was comfort in Max's voice and his arms whenever he hugged me.

I accompanied Max to the paddock, the cheers loud. Last year, was the first time I was here, this year it felt so familiar even though it was only my second time. Max wasn't starting pole but he could still finish first since he was in the front row. The race started off with Max over taking Lando at turn 1. The chance of Max wining his home race for the fourth time seemed more likely. But as the race went on, Max lost his P1 to Lando who kept the distance between him and Max a constant. Making Max finish P2, the way he started. He got out of the car to find me and his team waiting for him. I mouthed a congratulations as he walked towards me. He had tears in his eyes, "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner." he said wiping his tears. My heart skipped a beat; "You can still ask me out" I suggested. "But I'm scared of what you'll say" he muttered. "My answer would be the same, whether you were P1 or P2" I said. "And what's that?" he asked expectantly. "I would love to go out with you, Maxie" I said with a smile and tears in my eyes. Max almost jumped when he heard me, "Go on and finish up. We have a lot to talk about" I said pushing him towards the media pen.

I was waiting in his driver's room just like last year. But this time it was different, there were butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. I found myself pacing around the room, imagining what we would say. I was pulled out of my thought by Max now standing at the door. "Hi" he greeted shyly. "Hey" I replied, sitting on the sofa followed by Max. We sat facing each other, he took my hands in his, "Lifde, I can't believe this" he began. "me neither" I chimed in. "I've liked you for so long, I don't remember a time I didn't like you since I've known you" I continued. Max couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you felt the same" I said. "I didn't think you felt the same either." He added. "Y/N I really wanted to win this race and ask you out as a race winner." He sulked. "You're already a race winner and a three time champion at that. I couldn't ask for more. Plus I couldn't care less; to me you'll always be a winner" I said. He took my face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. I nodded. His lips inched closer to mine before they touched, our eyes fluttered close, his lips dry and chapped against my soft shiny glossed lips. Our lips moved in synchrony, tilting our head as we deepened the kiss. His hand trailing down from my cheek to my waist to pull me closer, I was now sat on his lap. I pulled away breathless, our foreheads touching, breaths intermingling, eyes locked; "I love you Y/N" he stated. "I have for a while. I didn't know how to say it. I'm glad not winning pushed me over the edge" "I love you too, Maxie. Can't wait to celebrate your fourth championship" I said. "You think?" he asked. "I know" I said, cupping his cheeks to kiss him again. His hands on my waist pulled me closer, as if it was even possible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in between kisses. "Yes" I breathed out as we continued to kiss.

When god sends blessings, it becomes hard to count. I got the man of my dreams and the stepping stone to my career goals.

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thealbatrovss · 2 months ago

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snow angel // wolverine x reader

summary: you try and ask logan out. when did he start making snow angels?

oneshot- a little angst and then just pure fluff.

word count - 1k+

masterlist

The bar was loud. Your heart was beating even louder.

Logan sat at the very end of the counter. His leather jacket hung over his seat. He was trying to light his cigarette. The bartender was telling him to knock it off. He cursed. “What kind of bar doesn’t let you smoke?”

“This one.” The older woman plucked it out of his mouth before he could take the first inhale. He rolled his eyes, sipping on his beer, catching your stare.

You shrug your condolences, face warming up and turned away. You wore your best outfit tonight. One that made you feel confident. And you were going to need all the confidence you could get.

It wasn’t that big of a deal, but you were going to ask him out tonight. After years of lingering glances, flirting on missions, shoulder brushes and hallway conversations, it was well past time. You always thought he’d be the first to initiate any sort of conversation about it. But that never came.

It scared you, making you go through every single interaction you had with him. Did you remember all those moments wrong? Were you really just friends?

No. You weren’t wrong. Something was brewing between the both of you, and you had to be the one that challenged the storm.

Yet, here you were, stuck picking at the wooden board beneath you as you both drank by yourselves.

Underneath all that rough exterior you found a soft man who would do anything for the ones he loved. You saw it in the way he stepped up whenever The X Men needed help. Whenever a student failed, he told them to get back up again.

He was kind. Much kinder than the winter blizzard raging outside. Even if he didn’t always show it, you felt it.

After saving your ass during this afternoons mission, you offered to repay him with a drink. He of course couldn’t say no to that. Especially since you were paying.

That left you in the present, seated across the bar away from him. Alone. There were only a few seats left and none of them were next to each other. So you continued to stir your fruity drink, leg bouncing up and down aggressively.

It couldn't be that hard. You were an adult, god dammit. All you needed was a little drink and you’d be sharp and on your feet, walking over to him. Too bad you were nursing a third.

The man seated next to you shot you a glare, as if he were telling you to stop hitting his seat. You mouthed a couple, “sorrys,” and turned back to Logan.

He was with a woman. A very beautiful woman. She was sitting right by him. Somehow she was able to convince the man next to Logan to switch her seats. The man seemed dejected as her full attention turned to your teammate and friend.

You tried not to give in to the nagging insecurities and the, “I told you sos,” festering in your mind. But then she put her hand over his and he didn’t even bother to move it. He actually smiled a bit. Or was that the alcohol making you see things?

“This was stupid,” you mumbled, wanting to fold into yourself. The room was hot, almost suffocating.

Jackie stopped cleaning out the glasses in her hands and turned to talk to you. “What’s stupid?”

“Nothing, Jackie.”

“The drink I made? You better still give me a tip.”

“Of course I will.” You handed her some cash, not really caring how much you gave her.

She stuffed it into her pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually a pain in the ass.”

You scoffed, rubbing your hands together anxiously. The woman was giggling now. You didn't have the strength to see Logan’s reaction. Nor did you want to. “Thanks for that.”

“Hey, I'd take pain in the ass drunk any day over whatever wallowing you’re doing over here. What’s going on?”

You downed your last drink in a few gulps, letting the alcohol sting. “Sometimes you’re just too late is all.”

Then, with a wave goodbye, you put on your coat, and headed back to the car. You’d wait there, see if Logan would come out to greet you with a drunk smile soon to fade due to his regeneration or you’d see his lips stuck to the women in the bar as they stumbled out the door. It hurt to think of the latter.

You sat in the freezing car, hoping the heat would kick in soon. The butterflies you felt when he was showing you how to play pool just an hour ago turned to snakes. Everything was uncomfortable. Your clothes, the weather, the leather seats, the heat finally hitting your cold face. You didn’t want to cry, but those drinks were very unforgiving.

The snow glistened in its furry. It didn’t take its time reaching the ground, it came down with no mercy. The light of Jackie’s Bar was blurry against the tumbling snowflakes. You tried to make out the figure exiting the bar and standing in front of the car. The person moved soon after you could make out the yellow on his jacket.

“What the hell?”

Logan held his arms out in the furious weather, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. He shook his head, the white icy dancing off his hair. You could hear him shout something that sounded like your name before he fell onto his back in the powered snow.

You hurried out the car, wondering if Logan was really that drunk or if that even was Logan. But it was. And he was making snow angels. Well, he was trying to at least.

“Is this how you’re supposed to make them?” He moved his feet and hands at the same time but in the same direction, creating streaks on the ground. Nothing an angel would look like. “I’m not doing it correctly, am I?”

The cold nipped at your nose and ears, but the drinks thankfully kept you somewhat warm. You bit your lip. “You’ve never done one before?”

“Nope.” He continued to do every single step wrong and you continued to watch it happen. “This isn’t that fun.”

“When you’re a kid it’s everything.”

He sat up, looking over his shoulder at the work he did. “Well, I’ve been an adult way longer than I ever was a kid.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The snow started to slow down, gently drifting through the wind. Logan rubbed his legs like he was nervous to say something. “Why’d you come out here?”

You swallowed. It was so damn cold. “I could ask you the same thing?”

He shrugged. “Jackie dared me to.”

“Jackie?” You wondered. “Was she finding a way to get you out of her bar? What did you do this time?”

“Nothing.” He scratched the back of his head. “I think she knew I wasn’t really into that lady back there.”

You looked from the bar and back at the man sitting in the snow. “That’s surprising. I thought you two looked cute together.” You wanted to slap yourself. What was this self sabotaging? Maybe you just wanted to rip the bandaid off, finally be free of whatever was happening between the two of you.

Logan let out a laugh, shaking off the snow from his jacket in a pointless attempt. “I think the blizzard has frozen your brain. Just think about what I just said.”

You put your hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m not the one making snow angels well past midnight.”

“It got your attention though.” He pointed out.

You tilted your head to the side in defeat. “You always have my attention.” The filter inside your brain decided not to work apparently. Maybe it was frozen. Your eyes widened at the realization.

“Good.” It was only one word but he said it like it could and would fix anything. “We’re finally getting somewhere.” Logan stood up, inching closer. “I’d like to kiss you now. If that’s okay with you?”

And you nodded. It was the easiest thing in the world to agree too. You were shivering and it was so cold but he asked if he could kiss you and nothing else mattered in that moment.

When his lips finally touched yours it was soft and gentle. He held your cheeks with his fingers, they were surprisingly warm against your cool skin. The kiss grew more intense, the flick of his tongue sliding slowly against your bottom lip. Your hands found his hair, his found your waist. It was a kiss trying to soak up years of missed opportunities. Of late night talkings and infirmary visits. Missions gone wrong, missions gone right.

When you finally parted for air, his hands moved back to your cheeks. He smiled like the smile would never come off his face. “Next time you get jealous, just come and talk to me. You’re fun to talk to. More fun to kiss.”

You rolled your eyes and nodded in reply. “Does this mean alcohol angels next?”

He groaned at the joke, still smiling. “Come on. Let's get in the car before you freeze to death.”

#the wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #the wolverine #logan howlett #ravens masterlist

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ellsbclls · 24 days ago

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Can I request something with Vi? Maybe like dating headcanons, or maybe where Vi and reader got separated after the council incident that happened but reunite after vi came a pit fighter, and once they see each other again talk a bit before making out

thank you thank you thank you thank you, angel 🥹 i had the absolute hardest time trying to choose which prompt to do, so for the time being i'm gonna word vomit about how good of a girlfriend vi would be, and then i'll work up the courage to execute such a fun and cool scenario!

𖨂 DATING VI HEADCANONS;

⟢ vi has always been lead by her heart and so, when she finds someone who embraces it — not for what it can be but for what it is — she lays her weapons down

⟢ during her shifts, she'll squirrel away at little souvenirs to bring home to you. it's not enough to just tell you about it, she needs to veil your mirror with a string of noxian banners, the emblem scratched away and embroidered with lily-shaped bolts and acrylic wire. she needs you to know that you're the first thing that comes to her mind when she sees something so tender in the face of violence. by the end of the week, your vanity is overflowing with so many little trinkets that its barely useful anymore, save for her gifts and the exhibition of them. and yet, when she slips the vein of a curling leaf into the palm of your hand, you find a sliver of space for it to live and stretch in front of the face of the mirror, listening intently while she explains how it marked the beginning of another fall with you.

⟢ when she finds herself close enough to you, she always tucks her head into the soft of your jaw. and not even in search of a kiss, or at the expense of her teeth. she just breathes you in, where your heartbeat lives, and rocks you back and forth, matching her rhythm the the flighty rate of it.

⟢ she hates to bother you with her gauze, and her dressing never cease to bother you. with how often she uses her hands, its inevitable that they will unravel, they'll tear and crease by the end of the day, but god forbid she asks you to help her. no, it won't be until you walk in on her in the bathroom, and she freezes in time — her canines snagging at the tail of a bandage roll while her other arm angles so precariously that it's almost comical. "i've got this," the words are so mangled between her teeth that you choose to ignore them. "i'm sure you do, but humor me." when you take the mantle, she can't help but notice how strong your hands are, how steady, like you're performing surgery. and in a way, you are, putting her back together the only way you know how — carefully.

⟢ despite her hands and how heavy they are, she touches you gently. near hesitant. her fingers sweep at the bottom of your eye when you’re drowsy, or tug at the corner of your mouth until it’s nothing but a cheesy half smile, clumsily obvious in her efforts to simply be near you. she’ll say “eyes up here, mister” when she notices how sleazy she’s making you look, but then blush into a blister when you do obey, flashing a pretty pair of doe eyes back at her, your sleazy smirk erupting into something saccharine and beguiled. she barely notices how easily you melt into her touches. so accustomed to drawing blood, to digging into the heel of her palm and restraining, that she feels giddy and drunk with the prospect of holding you and knowing you won’t falter.

⟢ she's also a little gross

⟢ well, a lot gross, actually. she’ll clean her runny nose with the bottom of her shirt, or dig it into the scruffy pink heat of her armpit and stop, letting the scent hit her tastebuds before she, without fail, shrugs it off. and whenever you catch her in the midst of doing something so gross, she’ll freeze and maintain an eerily impressive sort of eye contact with you, knowing full well that you’ll break eye contact with her before she has a chance to feel ashamed by her actions. it’s the price of growing up with brothers (+ jinx) and never paying for it.

⟢ in her restless hours, when you and your body lay half-hazed and dreamy, tucked into the throws and comforts of your bed, perfumed by the drowsy memory of a shower and toasted rice, she comes and crawls into the open spaces you’ve left. for her. to map out and nestle into from above the covers. when she finally finds you, as if you’re not impossibly intertwined already, she needles her arms around your back. nevermind how useless they become in the morning when the prick and pin of morning emerges. who cares? for just one selfish moment it’s just the two of you, cast to an island of quilted sands and dreams.

⟢ she also has a hard time saying no to you. the words come out, sure, but the actions never quite line up.

⟢ like one instance, early into the post-war rehabilitation efforts. most of piltover had been ravaged, a shiny metropolis brought to pieces — ivory rubble and the singing of distant songs. remarkably, the only remaining piece of infrastructure was the bridge to zaun. its made it easier for the relief efforts to come, and in droves they come — filling empty stomachs, arms aplenty with gauze and vodka, ornamenting what’s left of piltover with remnants of a zaun left unspoken for, whispers of something new and whole. and yet the only thing she hears is the hum of your voice, a gentle echo — "do you think the fish shop is still open?"

⟢ for you, it's simple, but to her the request is haunting. she hadn't the heart to tell you that, of the many things that zaun could not preserve, the fish shop was the first to go, and she had spent the remaining weeks finding ways to break it to you. but all fell short in comparison to just doing something about it, even if that something meant tracking the limescaled chef to the heart of zaun and requesting your order a la carte, her heavy gauntlet punctuating the request through the hardwood of his makeshift home.

#vi arcane #vi x reader #vi x fem!reader #vi fluff #guys this is bad #im so sorry i hope i get better the more i write #and i hope you find a way to enjoy this?#love you!

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 9 months ago

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Lovers

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)

Warnings: smut!!, cheating

the background of the story: a few months ago you decided to visit your friend Sophie who lives in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him. A few weeks before you locked yourself out of the apartment, you shared a kiss that you couldn't stop thinking about…and neither could he.

Y/n's POV

After about half an hour of waiting in front of the locked door, the elevator opens and the eagerly awaited Charles steps out. Of course he had to be the one to come and 'save' me because who else would it be? Our relationship has not changed much in these months. Somehow I also accepted that that kiss happened once and that was it. After all he is taken so I forced myself to stop thinking about him entirely.

As he steps out of the elevator, at first he doesn't say anything but just smirks at me.

"Please, just don't say anything." I say as he comes in front of me pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jeans. He was looking as handsome as always wearing a simple white oversized t-shirt and light washed baggy jeans. No one could ever pull off rings, bracelets and sunglasses the way he does with his perfectly messy curls.

"Y/n." He says putting the key into the lock. "Wasn't going to." As the door finally opens I see smoke coming from the kitchen. My lasagna..

"No, no, no, no!" Horrified and worried, I start repeating, running towards the kitchen, begging God that I didn't set someone else's kitchen on fire and that only the lasagna was harmed.

"What is happening?" Charles runs after me.

"Oh thank God.." I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that nothing is burning in the kitchen except for my lasagna, which turned completely black.

"What exactly are you thanking God for?" He asked mockingly, watching me take the tray of unrecognizable lasagna out of the oven.

"I'm thanking Him for not accidentally setting this whole apartment on fire."

"You're a real danger Y/N." He laughs leaning over the counter. "Like in every possible way." And I join him. I feel like I'm in love with these so beautiful and yet so rare moments of laughter with Charles.

"Thank you for coming here with the keys. I really don't know how else I'd manage to enter the apartment since Sophie and Carlos are in Madrid."

"That lasagna would be a nice thank you for having to come here, but since you're such a great cook.." He mocks again, but I don't mind it.

"Oh stop it!" I wave my hand and open the fridge to see what's left in there. "Well, I don't have anything else left to offer you except beer?"

"I'll take it."

One beer for me, one for him, one for him, one for me, and then again one for him, one for me and so the hours went by without even realizing that it was already dark outside. We were sitting on the floor on the carpet in front of the couch. The TV was on, but we got into talking so much that no one paid attention to it.

"I still can't believe Carlos and Sophie are getting married." Charles says taking another sip from the bottle.

"I personally think it's a bit too fast 'cause they've been together for only like a year, but if they feel like that's it, then I'm all for it. He's head over heels for her."

"Yeah, I guess when you know you know."

"Besides, it's perfect timing since she's pregnant with him so-"

"What?!" At that moment I realize that my tongue works faster than my mind and I pour out Sophie's secret to Charles.

"Oh no no! Forget it please!" I don't know what was I trying to achieve with this? Maybe erase his memory?

"Sophie's pregnant? Carlos is going to be a dad?!" He asks unable to wrap his mind around the fact.

"Yes, yes they're having a baby, but please be quiet about it because literally no one knows but me. Carlos is just about to find out."

"Oh my God..I can't believe it." I notice that his face drops a bit. He doesn't seem all that excited about the rather exciting news. After all Carlos is his best friend. Or at least one of them.

"What?" I ask. "Aren't you excited for him?"

"I am, of course. But it just got me thinking how so much good things is happening to him - he's getting podiums, every weekend he gets better and better, he's getting married, now excepting a child and then I'm over here feeling like I'm fucking stuck in a place..I don't know." This is the first time that after 3 and a half months of knowing Charles he is showing his vulnerable side. He is finally opening up to me and we're finally having a meaningful conversation.

"Why are you feeling stuck in a place?"

"I don't know how to explain it. Nothing's pushing me forward, I feel empty. I feel like I'm waiting on something, but it's not coming." I'm trying to read between the lines what he is trying to tell with this, but unsuccessfully. "I'm fucking struggling."

"Charles.." I listen to him with a heavy heart and wish to hug him and wipe the sadness away. "I'm sorry that you feel this way. What about Ava? Shouldn't she be your motivation?"

"She should be my motivation." He says with a sneer. "Except that's not the case. I once wanted her to be the one to push me forward, but now I'm not even sure if I want it to be her. She's never fucking there and I got tired." I remember when Lando said that he's never talking about his relationship with them and yet here he is talking about it to me, almost a stranger to him, even though it's obviously painful for him to share his feelings.

"If the relationship no longer makes you happy and fulfilled, then why not put an end to it?" I honestly ask him dying to know his answer.

"It's not as simple as it seems. She's Ava Wolff." He says taking a look at my eyes. "And I would like to change the subject now."

"Okay." I decide not to push it. The time will come when he will say that too. "But, just so you know I like you tonight." I say trying to light up the mood and succeed when he chuckles.

"Really? Well I guess better late than never. But, just so you know I've liked you since the Monaco GP." He says and starts playing with the red bracelet I gave him that day for good luck remembering how devastated he was that day because he didn't perform well and his girlfriend wasn't even there at his home race.

I start to stir in place from his words trying to hide the fact that he made me blush. He notices it anyway and pulls himself closer to me.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks calmly looking straight at me as I tried to look anywhere but his mesmerizing green eyes.

"I'm not." I say quite softly and uncertainly. He scoots even closer to me, so close that I can feel the warmth of his breath on the skin of m neck. He is facing me while I am facing the TV. My heart is beating so harsh I can feel it pounding against my rib cage.

"Y/n.."

"Hm?"

"I've been trying really hard to forget about it," He says, referring to the kiss we shared, as he moves a strand of my hair behind my ear and keeps his palm on my cheek. "I just can't seem to." Before I can even think of anything to say, our eyelids slightly start closing and our lips meet.

At that moment everything becomes less important, neither of us breaks the kiss, we decide to save the "this is wrong" and "we shouldn't, we have to stop" for later.

He kissed me so delicately, his lips softly brushed mine. He was so careful caressing my cheek with his thumb and the kiss was so tender leaving me wanting more.

"Charles.." I breathe out whispering.

"Don't overthink this, please. I'm dying to kiss you over and over again." His words were enough to erase any doubt in me whether I wanted this or not. They got me hooked eagerly wanting more of whatever this was. Once the kiss turned from gentle to passionate, then firmer and more determined, I knew I desperately needed him in every way that there is.

"I want you." I was trying to refrain from moaning since he hasn't even touched me properly yet and I was already a mess.

"You have me so easily. Come here." He pulls me into his lap so I straddle him without breaking the kiss. I worked my mouth against his while his hands were roaming my body under my oversized t-shirt. Once he reached the bra clasp he stopped for a second to take a look at my eyes asking for permission to remove it.

"Take it off." I whisper and seconds later the bra was thrown to the side. With one hand he cupped my breast and with the other he pulled me down making me grind on his stiffened crotch. He threw his head back groaning as I pressed myself against him.

"Fuck, take these off." He says tugging at the hem of my shorts. I obediently do as he orders, taking my t-shirt off along the way and in a matter of seconds I'm sitting in his lap only in my panties completely revealing myself to him. He takes a second to admire my naked body with hungry eyes and slightly parted lips eyeing me up and down.

"You're so beautiful, fuck." My heart flutters at his sweet comment even though I didn't want him to be sweet-talking to me. I wanted him to tell me how much he wanted me, what he would do to me, and how he wanted to have me.

His hand found its way to my panties rubbing me over them feeling the now already damp lace fabric. "You're soaking, is this for me? Have I made you feel this wet?" He wasn't even trying to hide the smug on his face. I gasp at his words and his touch, but he wanted to hear me. "Answer me."

"It's all for you." He pulls my panties aside and starts rubbing small and slow torturous circles on my clit.

"This isn't the first time that you're wet for me now is it?" He murmurs against my lips and I gulp panting. "I know it isn't. I know you've been thinking about me." He glides his fingers over my wet folds up and down before he slips his middle finger inside me. I wince at the the coldness of his finger, but soon start moving my hips against his hand.

"Look at you.. So hot, so eager for me. I've been getting hard thinking about you and your innocent lips wrapped around me even though they're anything but innocent." He slips another finger inside me and I almost finish right away at the profanities that he's telling against my skin. I start to unbutton his pants while he takes of his shirt. He lifts himself up on the couch and I stay down on my knees between his legs. I pull his boxers down his legs revealing the long shaft that sprung off his hitting his lower stomach. I decided to tease him a little and start working my tongue everywhere but the tip where he needed me the most. Once again he throws his head back in pleasure desperate for my touch around him and I enjoy every second of listening him moaning my name. I lick his balls and gently dig my nails into the skin of his thighs. He tries to grab himself, but I stop his hand and put it back on the side.

"Wrap your lips around me, you're driving me insane." I smirk as I see him on almost begging for me. It doesn't take long until I do ad he pleases taking his shaft and giving it a few strokes before I start bobbing my head up and down paying special attention to his aching red tip.

"You're taking it so well for me, so fucking beautiful." His words are prompting while he's moving hair out of my face and collecting it into a ponytail so he can lead my head. I continue doing what I was fastening my pace until he stops me taking my chin between his fingers.

"I don't wanna cum like this and if you continue I sure fucking will. I need to feel you around me. Do you want me to fuck you, hm?"

"Yes, Charles fuck I do." I pant as the aching feeling between my legs rises. He pulls me up by my elbows and I straddle him again as he pulls me again for another long kiss his tongue fiercely wrestling mine. He takes his shaft into his hand prepping it a bit before positioning it on my center. I don't wait for him to pull me down on him, I do it myself rolling my hips against him at first slowly so I can adjust to his length and enjoy every second of the feeling of him inside of me.

"Yes baby ride me, you're so good for me. You do it so good." Butterflies errupt in my stomach at him calling me baby. His thumb brushes over my lower lip and I hold onto his hand. His other hand slides down to rub circles on my clit again and I feel my legs starting to shake.

"Oh Charles, Charles.." I cry out his name clenching around him.

"Eyes on me." He lifts up my chin making me look him in the eyes while I come undone around him and he starts working his hips upwards wanting to prolong my climax. I try to squirm away as the excessive feeling of pleasure overwhelms me and sensitivity takes over. Charles stops me by tightly wrapping his strong arms around me hugging me and hiding his face in the crook of my neck leaving trail of small gentle kisses.

"That's it. You're doing so well for me. Can you keep going?" I nod my head yes and he's quick to turn me over and lay me down onto the couch. He pulls himself out of me and presses himself against my stomach his lips never leaving my neck. I tug on his hair with one hand and with the other slide my nails down his back.

"Kiss me." I plead and he does so. He teases me with his tip going over my now too sensitive and wet folds.

"Will you be able to cum for me one more time?"

"I don't know.." I whisper with a trembling voice. "But I don't wanna stop." That's all it takes for him to push himself deep inside me tiredlessly working his hips in and out of me.

"You're so fucking tight." He attaches his lips to my hard nipples flicking his tongue arounf them and nibbling on them making me whine out his name.

"Charles..oh yes."

"So fucking hot hearing you moan my name." He says. "Fuck, what you do to me..Touch yourself for me."

I slide my hand between us down to my clit making quick circular movements and the sight of me touching myself drives him completely crazy it has him rolling his eyes and panting.

"Fuck, baby I'm close, I'm gonna cum." He starts moving his hips faster hitting my walls making me clench myself around him and screaming out his name as I finish one more time. Seconds later he pulls out stroking himself at fast pace and cumming all over my stomach.

Barely catching his breath he gives me a peck on the lips before falling onto me and I close my eyes playing with his locks.

Leaving Charles on the couch, I get up and head towards the bathroom. I slide down my now completely soaked panties and step inside the shower. As the lukewarm water hits my skin, I let out a deep breath and close my eyes letting myself go through all the emotions that have accumulated in me in the last few hours.

Guilt washes over me because I don't feel guilty and because I know I'd do this all over again with him. I have never before experienced something so passionate, sensual, exciting and satisfying, something that left me wanting more of him. I find myself smiling thinking about him and what we just did, but even though i don't want to let myself expect anything, I forgive myself this time because i'm still under the impression of him tightly gripping my body, kissing me all over my neck and calling me 'baby'.

I hear the sound of the shower door opening and soon Charles' hands are resting on my waist and his lips are pressing against my shoulder. I smile tilting my head to the side.

"You're washing me off yourself already?"

"I was hoping you'd come." I turn to face him wrapping my arms around his neck. He leans in to kiss me only this time slowly and gently. "Can I ask you something?" I ask and he nods. "Are you drunk?" He chuckles at my somewhat funny question. It was clear to me that he couldn't get drunk from 3 cans of beer, I just wanted to check how aware he was of our actions. I wanted to get out of him how he felt about this, I wanted him to tell me something, even though at the same time I was afraid of what I would hear. I didn't want anything to ruin these moments, even though I was very curious and impatient.

"Drunk off of you only." I blush leaning my head into the crook of his neck, but he sensed what I was getting at. "Let's not think about anything and enjoy the moment, okay?" He presses a kiss to my forehead and I feel relieved although on the verge of overthinking this.

"Are you tired?" He asks quietly against the skin of my neck.

"A little bit." I gasp letting my eyes close. "Why?" Just as I asked the question, I felt him slowly pressing himself against me.

"Because I can't get enough of you." His tonuge slides over my bottom lip asking for permission and I let him in without any hesitation. "I want to hear you moan my name again." He says into my ear abruptly turning me around and pressing me against the shower wall. He pushes himself inside of me and starts thrusting in and out again further and further.

"Charles.." The slapping of our wet skin echoed throughout the bathroom.

"How are you so tight, fuck.." His pace picked up and I could feel both of us were close. "I'm close baby, I'm not gonna last long."

My back was arched and I held onto the glass with my palms. Soon my legs started shaking and his hips stuttering against me as we both finished at the same time. The moans filled the small space inside the shower as we were coming down from our highs. I was so weak, the strength in my legs long gone I would've fallen down if he hadn't held me.

"Are you okay? Talk to me." He asks gently caressing my cheek.

"I am." I smile assuring him with a kiss. "Let's take a shower and go to bed okay?"

"Okay."

After we showered and dried off with towels, we went to my room and got into bed. Neither of us said anything, he just pulled me close and held me tight around the waist as if I was going to run away any second. There wasn't even any need to say anything. Being in his arms, feeling his breathing on my skin felt so safe, so intimate that I wished this would never end.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris

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magicbystarlight · 19 days ago

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Lioness

Sergei Kravinoff (Kraven the Hunter) x Reader

Summary: Your friends drag you to a club on Halloween and you catch the eye of a hunter.

Warnings: 18+, smut, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, no condom mention, self-deprecation, overall very fluffy. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Yet another work that's mostly self-indulgent, but partially for Lovely 💛

It was loud. Even with the earbuds shoved into your ears to drown out the incessient buzz of conversation, the music still pounded in your bones. And fuck, it was hot. You’d thought the cozy lion jumpsuit would be a better costume than the tight spandex catsuit Felicia had tried to get you to try on.

You sat in the booth watching the club move around you. Gwen had procured it at a discounted rate by promising a table full of pretty girls. Why you’d been included still confused you. At twenty eight to their twenty one, you felt more like a mother than a friend to the girls in your comms class. More often than not they were at your apartment, eating the only home cooked meals they’ll have all week, and enjoying the quiet they can’t get in a dorm. They’d invited you out before, but never as vehemently as tonight.

“If she’s not going, I’m not going,” MJ had declared, throwing her feet up on your coffee table. Most likely a lie, you realized now as she danced in her non-costume costume with a wide grin. But it worked. Because here you were.

Your focus shifted to each of the girls, checking they were all alright. Felicia was dancing with MJ in the catsuit she’d tried to get you in. Gwen in a some seventies aesthetic she claimed made her Stevie Nicks was at the bar talking to some guy you recognized from campus. You’d kept count of all their drinks and so far they seemed reasonably buzzed. But it was Halloween and the creeps were out in droves.

Your gaze drifted to the rest of the patrons standing at the bar. There’s more skin than fabric. One man in particular wore some cheesy jungle getup with only an open vest lined with a faux lion’s mane and a tooth necklace to cover his torso. Not that you blamed him. With a body like that…

Heat bloomed across your face as you realized he was watching you as well. Your attention fell to the table. God that was embarrassing. The rum and coke you’d ordered when you first set down was more water than anything, but it gave you something to fiddle with. It wasn’t enough to hold your attention for long. You looked for the girls again, finding them exactly where they had been a few minutes before. And finding the man gone.

You let out a laugh. You were being ridiculous. He probably wasn’t even looking at you. Who would? You sighed and leaned forward to put your empty glass on the table.

A shadow moved in the corner of your vision that made you jump. The man stood at the edge of the booth, smile playing on his lips. They moved but you couldn’t hear anything. Oh! Right. You pulled out the buds. He said something else, but you still couldn’t hear him. The loud beat drowned him out.

He gestured to the booth in a silent request. You nodded and moved over, biting your lip. He took a seat. His frame dwarfed the bench. And you. An arm stretched behind you. He leaned in, the smell of sweat and cologne drifting over you, beard scratching your ear. “Your costume is inaccurate,” he said with a voice like honey. Warm, rich, and sweet. Something tugged at the hood you’d pushed back. “A lioness does not have a mane.”

Something in you deflated. That’s why he’d come over? To mock your costume? As if you weren’t embarrassed enough. “I’m aware, thanks.”

His hearing was better than yours. A puff of air hit your ear. “Retract the claws, little lioness. I only meant to start a conversation.”

You’re saved from responding by the bottle girl, Amber you think, stopping by. She had a new rum and coke and two shots of a clear liquid. “I didn’t order this,” you tried to shout as she took your empty glass. She pointed across the table. At the man. Right. He stretched out his hand, a bill between two fingers. From the blue tint you’d guess a hundred. She disappeared a moment later.

"Let us start, again, yes? I am Sergei." He picked up the shot glasses and offered one to you. "Though I often go by Kraven."

"I don't really like to drink much."

"Neither do I."

He moved back and you stared confused as he downed one of the shots. He again offered the other. You took it, bringing it to your nose. There was no discerable smell. You took a sip. "It's water?"

Sergei laughed. "A hunt is no fun when the game is tranquilized."

It took a second before it clicked. "Ah. Hunter," you pointed to him, "lion," you pointed to yourself. "Clever."

“So,” he began, plucking the shot glass from your hand, and tipping it down his own throat, “why are you here tonight if not to drink or dance?”

“Who says I’m not here to dance?”

He nodded towards the floor where Gwen had joined MJ and Felicia. “If you wished to dance, you’d have joined your companions.”

You started to explain that it was them who had dragged you out here despite your protests, but stopped. “How did you know that?”

“Hunter,” he touched his bare chest, “lion,” his fingers caught your chin. “A good hunter always observes his prey before he makes his first move.” He was really into the whole hunter persona he’d crafted. Maybe he was an actor. Or one of those cosplayers. Either way you didn’t think it’d be quite so alluring if he weren’t so attractive. He leaned in again, that same scratch of beard against your ear. "Would it be to forward to mention how much I'm looking forward to having your pelt on my floor tonight?"

He couldn't be serious. You weren't ugly, but you were wearing some silly pajama-like jumpsuit and nearing thirty. There were several dozen younger and prettier options he could take home tonight. Ones who could match the aesthetic of his six pack. A quick glance around and you could see a sexy lion and tiger and bear. "Is this a joke?" Your gaze returned to him, trying to calm the quickening pace of your heart. "Some bet with your buddies?"

He head cocked to the side and released you, brows furrowed. "A joke? Why would I joke?"

"Why would you want me?"

"Why would I not?" Your mind raced to come up with a response, but Sergei continued, "You are a beautiful woman. I have not been able to tear my eyes from you all night." He brought a hand up and ran a finger down your jaw. "I am a simple man. I see something I want and I pursue." A flush crept up your neck. It's hard to ignore the hunger in his eyes. They bore into you, dark and earnest.

"You're serious?"

He took your hand and held it against his chest. His heart beat out of sync with the music. “There is nothing I desire more than to ravage you tonight.”

A shiver ran down your spine. Your gaze fell from his eyes to your joined hands to the muscles glistening beneath to the bulge in his—

You diverted your eyes back to the dance floor. None of the girls were there. For a moment he was forgotten. Worry replaced whatever feelings he stirred. Where were they? Did they leave you behind? Wouldn't Gwen have told you? You'd seen her only moments ago.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back to the moment. Sergei was staring at you. He said something. Damn music was too loud. You leaned in, gesturing for him to repeat himself.

"Where has your attention gone, little lioness?" He sounded amused.

"I can’t see my friends."

His chest rumbled. “They are by the bar.”

You turned your head. Sure enough they were sitting at the bar. Watching you. Gwen held her thumbs up and Felicia mouthed, “Oh my god.”

It seems they approve.” Your heart fluttered. The way he was looking at you, the way his fingers had begun to stroke the back of your neck, the heat rolling off him in waves, it all left you breathless. “Perhaps we should get some air? I have a place not far from here. A little quieter, no?”

Your gaze flicked between his lips and his eyes. Was this really happening? Was a man who looked like a Greek God about to invite you back to his place? Your eyes dropped to the tenting of his pants. Oh yes. He was. "Okay."

"Good." He rose and offered a hand.

The crisp air outside did little to cool your thoughts. The girls had been all smiles and wiggling brows as you made excuses for your exit. Felicia had pulled you into a tight hug and whispered, "That man’s going to wreck your pussy."

Sergei's place wasn't far, as promised. But you wouldn't be able to tell anyone how you got there. Terribly stupid, but allyou were aware of as you strolled through the crowded downtown streets was the firm grip of Sergei's hand and the warmth of his body beside yours. A ridiculously long elevator ride later and you were at his door.

"You've been quiet." The lock clicked after he punched a code in on his door. “Are you nervous, little lioness?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

The door opened. Sergei motioned you inside. You stepped into the darkness. The silence was deafening after the constant drone of music and busy streets. A click and the lights flickered on. The first thing you noticed was how normal the apartment was. Well, not normal. Rich. A bit old fashioned. But you half expected to see game heads on the wall and fur rugs. But the only thing that seemed to hint at such a thing a glass case holding an old style rifle.

Thick, muscled arms wrapped around your waist, dragging you back against the solid mass of a man. Your breath caught. His lips found your neck. "Are you saying I am your first?"

"Not first, but," you bit your lip, "first one I've followed home."

"I'm honored," he rumbled. Teeth nipped at the tender flesh below your ear, tongue tracing the shell. A shiver ran down your spine, heat settling between your legs. A hand roamed up, over your breast, and settled on the zipper on your chest. "May I?"

You nodded, a breathy, "Yes," leaving your lips.

His fingers toyed with the pull and slowly drew it down. Breathe fanning across your neck, he peeled it off your shoulders and down your arms. A trail of goosebumps followed his hands. The jumpsuit pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but the silly lingere Gwen had made you buy during a drunken late night study session.

"You are stunning." Sergei spun you around, his hands trailing down your sides, and resting on your hips. "My little lioness."

"Sergei," you breathed, hands gripping the front of his vest.

"Do not be shy." His lips brushed over yours. "Touch me. Kiss me. Claw me. Do what you will."

Your hands slid up his bare chest and locked behind his neck. His mouth covered yours in hungry kiss. Heat exploded within you. Desire you'd thought lost to youth roared. Raw, unbridled desire. He kissed you until the need for air became too great. Your lips broke apart. Your lungs burned. Sergei wasn't as bad off, his chest rising and falling evenly.

He smiled down at you, eyes bright, and stroked your cheek. "Breathtaking."

Your stomach fluttered. His words, the way his hand had moved from your cheek to rest against your pounding heart, the heat and hardness pressing into your soft belly. How was this happening to you? A man like this couldn't want you. Could he?

"Sergei, I—"

He pressed a finger to your lips. "You are still thinking this is all in jest."

"I'm—"

"A gorgeous woman," he said, pressing his forehead against yours, "who I wish to ravage until the sun rises."

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped.

"You doubt my intentions," Sergei murmured. "Do you think I will leave you unsatisfied?" He rolled his hips into you, cock straining against the fabric.

"No."

"No?"

"Of course not, that's not what-"

"That is right." His hand found your ass and squeezed, fingers teasing at the lacy thong. "So, allow me to please you."

Your fingers twisted in his mane. "Okay."

In one smooth motion, he hooked an arm under your legs and swept you off the floor. You gasped, clinging to his broad shoulders. "What are you doing?"

"Taking my prize," he growled. He carried you through the living room and past the kitchen, your shoes lost somewhere in between. In the next breath he was kicking in a door. The bedroom. The lights flipped on and the bed came into focus. Your gaze flicked around. A bookshelf. Closet. A chair. And then, finally, the mirror. You stared, wide eyed, at the two of you. He placed a kiss against your temple and strode to the bed, setting you on the sheets. He shrugged off the vest, revealing his and kicked off his shoes. Your thighs pressed together.

Your hand reached forward. Fingertips grazed his abs. "Wow," you murmured, eyes following the trail of hair disappearing into his waistband.

"Does it please you, little lioness?"

You nodded and let your fingers drift to the button of his pants. You paused and looked to his face. "Is this okay?"

Sergei chuckled and cupped your cheek. "Of course."

You popped open the button with shaking hands. Your heart was pounding in your ears. You dragged the zipper down. Sergei's hands moved to his belt, tugging the leather free. A few tugs and his pants slid to the floor. His erection strained against the fabric of his boxers.

He pushed them down and kicked them aside. Your breath caught. He was huge. It must be against some law of nature for a man to look that good and be that big.

You reached for him and stroked. He groaned and leaned into the touch. Again, thumb running over the head.

"Enough of that." He'd pulled out of your grip, leaving the memory of his heat blazing your blame. "I want to taste you." He fell to his knees, dragging you further to the edge.

He bit into your thigh, soothing the sting with a kiss. Up and down he went on both, only allowing his nose to brush across your mound.

With a bit of help, he dragged down the lace and discarded them across the room. He purred, "What a pretty pussy."

He buried his head between your thighs, his tongue finding your clit with ease. You jerked away from the sensation. No man had found it before. They'd licked around for a minute and move on. Sergei swirled his tongue around it and you tried to pull away again. He growled, wrapping his thick arms around your thighs and dragging you back.

The tip of his tongue ran across it, teasing the sensitive bud. Your back felt to the bed, arching and gasping. He growled again, lapping at you. Your nails dug into his shoulders. Your hips ground against his, pushing his tongue harder against your clit.

"On my god," you gasped your body quivered.

It was so much so quick. The tension in your stomach grew. It was going to snap. You were going to fall apart. "I'm going to-"

He pulled away.

You whined and tried to tug him back. "I was so close."

"I know, little lioness." His tongue grazed over the clit. "But tonight you are only allowed to cum on my cock, yes?"

You whimpered. That wasn’t fair.

"Yes?" He asked again, sucking your clit between his lips.

"Ah!" Your back arched, but his arms didn't allow you to move far. "Y-yes!"

"Good girl." His beard tickled as his head dipped lower. A moan fell from your lips as his tongue entered you.

He continued, licking and sucking and fucking with his tongue until you were a quivering mess beneath him, once more on the edge. And then he pulled away. One of his arms released a leg. Your bra was tossed aside and a hand trailed down your stomach and through your folds spreading your wetness, before his thick fingers pushed into you. You groaned, hips bucking. It was slow to pump in and out, dulling the climax that had been so close but not allowing it to fade.

Sergei added another finger, scissoring them inside. His thumb rubbed your clit in gentle, but sporadic circles. He was torturing you, teasing the edge but never letting you fall over.

"Please fuck me.” You begged.

"As the lioness wishes."

The delirium he’d left you in made his actions seem like a blur. One moment your one the edge of the bed, him kneeling in front of you, and the next your somewhere in the middle, his body hovering just above, the head of his cock poking between your spread legs.

You reached up and gripped his back, holding tight. His cock slid along the lips of your pussy, coating the head with you. "Please," you pleaded.

His cock pushed in a single fluid motion. Without resistance or pain. Not even discomfort. “A perfect fit,” he said before capturing your lips.

You moaned against his mouth as he began an unrelenting pace. A hand slipped under your neck, the other holding your hip in a bruising grip. Every thrust sent you further into a blissful haze. You babbled, incoherent. Begging and praising. Your nails trailed down his back, trying to anchor yourself.

His rhythm faltered. He pulled away, panting. His face was flushed, beads of sweat rolled down his temple, pupils blown. "Turn over."

"What?"

He pulled out, cock bobbing, and gripped your hips. He rolled you over. "On your knees."

He slid back into you with ease. A groan filled the room. Yours? His? He was hitting a spot that had the coil in your belly tightening. "Fuck, Sergei, I—"

"Go ahead."

You fell forward, face pressed into the blankets, back arched, and came. Stars danced behind your eyelids. You clenched around him.

He leaned over you, lips on your back. "Good girl."

He didn't give you a chance to catch your breath as the high slipped away. His fingers found their way to your clit.

"S-sergei," you whined.

"Again."

He didn't relent. Didn't slow. Kept you there, trapped beneath him, writhing. Tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. "P-please."

"Again."

You shook your head.

"Again, little lioness."

"I can't," you sobbed. A lie. You felt the wave gathering in the horizon.

"You can."

"Sergei," you cried.

He buried himself deep. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Again."

You came again. A choked moan tore from your throat. Every atom felt as if it had exploded with you.

His teeth grazed over your skin. His voice, rough and deep, murmured, "Such a good girl."

A whine escaped you. His fingers had not stopped.

"Again."

"Sergei—"

He growled. His arm hooked around your chest, pulling you up. Your back flush against his chest, he moved again. The angle hit a new spot making you writhe and moan and beg.

"So good," he murmured. His other hand slid to your breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, rolling and tugging and pinching.

"S-sergei. P-please."

"Once more."

"No."

"For me," he purred. “I must feel you once more.”

You shook your head, trying to fight it.

"I know you can."

You whimpered, a few stray tears leaking from your eyes. White filled your vision. Your whole body trembled, muscles twitching. You weren't sure what was worse-better. The torturous, slow build or this overwhelming pleasure that had you on the verge of seeing god.

The coil snapped. Your head fell back, a loud cry of his name escaping your lips.

"That's my lioness," Sergei growled. His hand fell from your breast, snaking between your bodies. "Cum with me."

His thrusts grew erratic. A string of foreign words left his lips. His fingers circled your clit, extending your climax with his. Your muscles tensed, a final cry of his name falling from your lips. Sergei cursed, the last of his spend filling you.

He dropped, the weight of him pinning you down. The smell of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air. His heart pounded against your back.

His cock pulsed inside you. For a while the only sound was your shared labored breaths.

You clenched as his lips met the junction of your neck and shoulder, his own hips jerking from the overstimulation on his softening cock.

"Sorry," you said.

"I am not." He kissed your jaw and slid out, a flood of warmth dripping down your leg.

"Fuck."

He rolled off and the bed dipped beside you.

You turned your head to watch as he splayed out across the it. One arm propped under his head, the other stretched out beside him. You let your eyes follow the trail of hair to his spent cock.

"I must apologize, little lioness, for ending the hunt so soon. I normally last much longer, but you felt far too good."

"Oh," was all you could think to say.

His laugh rumbled. "Do not be embarrassed. Your pleasure is a gift. I intend to treasure it."

You sat up, wincing. You were going to be sore tomorrow. But that was tomorrow. Tonight was a dream. And what a wonderful dream it was. You swung your legs over the side.

"Where are you going?" Sergei asked, sitting up.

"To get cleaned up and grab my costume."

"You wish to leave?"

You stood on shaky legs. "I should get back to my apartment before it gets too late."

"It is already late," Sergei said, taking your wrist. He nodded to the clock on his nightstand. How on earth was it already nearly four? It had only been a little past midnight when you’d left the club. "You'll stay here tonight. I want to make you breakfast."

Your brows rose.

"Unless you do not want to?"

You looked at him, eyes roaming over the muscles that seemed impossible for anyone to maintain. The handsome features of a man who could have anyone he wanted. And he’d wanted you. Why not let the dream last a bit longer?

“Come,” he said, patting the he’d beside him. “Lay with me.”

You joined him and he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. His nose pressed against your hair, inhaling deeply. "I think this has been my most successful hunt."

You laughed, a yawn interrupting. Maybe he’d drop the persona in the morning.

His lips met yours in a lazy kiss, the scratch of his beard leaving you warm. You sighed against him and relaxed, listening as his heart began to beat in time with yours. "Sleep, little lioness."

“But the mess?”

“Tomorrow’s worry. Sleep not. I have exhausted you.”

You didn’t argue and nuzzled further I to him. "Night."

"Sweet dreams."

Other New Fics:

A Lady and Her Knight (Gwayne Hightower x Reader)

Favorite Dress (Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

#sergei kravinoff x reader #kraven the hunter x reader #sergei kravinoff smut #kraven the hunter smut #aaron taylor johnson

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miniy00ng1 · 2 months ago

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Not Yours

Five Hargreeves x Female!Reader

wc: 1845

warnings: swearing, fighting, lmk if i missed anything!

find my masterlist here

hiii lovelies! i really enjoyed writing this, i will probably make a part two since the ending isn't really an ending, but i just wanted to get something posted! in this piece i refer to Viktor's character as Vanya since in the series at this time he did not come out yet! as always please ignore any grammar errors, give me feedback, and i hope everyone enjoys! thank you <3

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A bright blue flash appears in the foyer of The Umbrella Academy, from the flash comes the Hargreeves siblings, slowly coming to after being disoriented from time travel. The siblings surround the singular round table in the room, sitting atop the table was a newspaper.

Five Hargreeves, the youngest looking of the group, snatches the paper off the table frantically searching for a date. “Holy shit…I think we did it. It’s April 2nd, 2019, the day after the apocalypse.” Five lets out a dry chuckle, surprised he and his idiot siblings succeeded.

Klaus lets out a cheer of excitement, he rests both arms over the shoulders of his two nearest siblings, pulling them close, “Go team! I mean look at us, we’re so amazing you guys. I think we should celebrate by breaking into Dad’s very special liquor cabinet.” The siblings laugh, all relieved they survived and saved the world, yet again. As the group begins to wander towards the sitting room, Five stops in his tracks–something, no, someone was missing.

Five looks at the bunch ahead of him, he counts their heads once—only five, and then recounts afraid that he’s made an error. He whips his head behind to check for the missing person–his missing person. Five releases a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding, panic beginning to set in, “You guys…where’s Y/N?” The siblings immediately become aware to the fact that you were missing.

“Maybe she ended up in another part of the house? We should split up and look for her.” Vanya suggested. The group murmurs in agreement, designating sections of the house for each sibling to search. Before the siblings can break off, something strange catches Diego’s eye, “Hey, why is there a painting of Ben over the mantelpiece?”

The siblings immediately gather around the mantel and stare in confusion at the painting of their dead brother, which was previously a painting of their missing brother. “Shit, that can’t be good…” Five hisses, trying to figure out what was going on. The siblings attention is pulled away from Ben’s painting as a figure abruptly stands up from a nearby chair. The fireplace sheds light on the figures, it was their previously dead father—Reginald Hargreeves.

“Dad, you’re alive.” Luther says softly. The older man scoffs and speaks in his shrill voice, “Why shouldn’t I be? And I am not your father, boy.” The monocled man corrects Luther causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. “What? What’re you talking about? Yes, you are. This is the Umbrella Academy.” Allison questions. “And you would be wrong again. This is not The Umbrella Academy, this is the Sparrow Academy.” As if on cue, six figures appeared near the railing of the balcony in the room.

“Those are my children, The Sparrows. After meeting you lot in the 60s, I was so put off by you that I made it a point not to adopt you, and instead found the others. I was quite successful and adopted eight of them.” Reginald states proudly, his hands behind his back. Another familiar voice grabs the attention of the Umbrella’s, “Dad, who the hell are these assholes in my house?” Ben Hargreeves, formerly dead, but now clearly alive stands before the group. Five squints his eyes at Ben, trying to determine what was off about him. Was it the hair?

“Oh my god! Ben-er-ino is that you? You look so good alive! Well, I mean beside that haircut, but I can look past that. Come give your favorite brother a hug!” Klaus squeals in excitement, approaching Sparrow Ben with his arms wide open. Sparrow Ben meets Klaus with a solid punch to the face. Klaus stumbles back and Luther manages to catch him. “What the hell was that for Ben?” Klaus groans, holding onto his nose.

Five examines the Sparrow siblings, trying to size them up, “You said you got eight. Where is the last one?” Five questions out loud. Suddenly, a small teenage, female figure appears seemingly out of thin air next to Ben. The Umbrella siblings slightly jump at the appearance of another person in front of them before they calm down and realize it’s you. But why are you standing next to Sparrow Ben and why are you wearing a school girl outfit with a sparrow logo on it.

“Y/N?” Five calls out, you tilt your head in response to hearing your name. You squint at Five with confusion, “How the hell does the kid know my name?” You look to Reginald for answers to which he doesn’t provide any. The rest of your siblings join you and Ben in front of the strangers in your home. “I think it’s about time you guys leave.” Marcus states, puffing out his chest. “We’re not going anywhere, this is our house.” Diego replies stalking closer to Marcus. “All right, it looks like we’re going to have to settle this the old fashion way.” Both groups of siblings get into fighting stances, readying themselves to beat the shit out of each other.

You roll your eyes, your siblings have always had a flare for the dramatics and it’s just never been your style. You use your powers–manipulation of your appearance, to make yourself invisible once again. You study the way the young boy immediately looks for your presence, trying to get even the smallest hint of where you’ve gone. As your siblings start to fight with the strangers in your house you sit back to enjoy the show.

Each one of your siblings is matched up and fighting one of the Umbrella Academy siblings and with the way things are going down, you’re betting on the Sparrows. Marcus is clearly winning against Luther and you’re becoming bored watching them hit each other back and forth. You then come across Diego riding around on Christopher asking him repeatedly about “who his daddy is” this makes you giggle. You then make your way into the foyer where you observe two more pairs of siblings fighting.

Something on the table catches your eye. A sleek, black briefcase rests in the middle, you don’t recognize it, but recall that the Umbrella’s first appeared in this room. You snatch the briefcase and decide to keep it, just in case. “Y/N! Come here and look at this freak!” You hear Jayme call your name from the top of the staircase and follow her voice. Once you reach the top of the stairs you make yourself visible and see the teenage boy, who they call Five, making out with the air. “Guess who the little perv is macking on.” Jayme says wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“Gross Jayme, why do you have to say it like that?” You say scrunching your nose in disgust. “Let me deal with him.” You signal Jayme to go away. The boy is still stuck in his daydream and continues to make out with the air. In order to get him out of the dream state you hit him in the side with the briefcase, knocking him off balance. Five rolls to the floor, shaking his head trying to re-enter reality. Immediately realizing his compromised position he quickly gets to his feet raising his fists but once he realizes it’s you, he drops his arms.

“I’m not going to hit you Y/N. I would never fight with you.” As Five lets his guard down, you use this to your advantage, immediately swinging your body in an attempt to roundhouse kick him in the face. He blinks away, dodging the kick, and appears on the other side of you causing you to stumble back since you missed your target. You prepare to hit him again but he blinks away for the second time, this time right behind you and pressed to your backside. Five’s arms wrap around your body, holding you in place, the briefcase still tightly clutched in your hand.

“Love, stop this. I am not going to fight with you.” Five says through gritted teeth as he holds you arms down to your side. You struggle against his grip trying to wiggle free, “I am not your love.” In that moment you swing your head back hoping to knock into his head but a flash of blue light surrounds you. You’re back in the foyer with Five and a couple of his siblings. “Someone hold onto her and make sure you don’t lose that briefcase. I’ve got to make sure Vanya’s okay and then we’ve got to get the hell out of here.” Five calls out to his siblings, Luther takes over the hold on you as Five blinks away and snatches the briefcase out of your hand. “I will kill you if you don’t let me go you fat gorilla.”

The Hargreeves siblings manage to “win” the fight against your siblings thanks to Vanya’s powers and take you as hostage without the Sparrows noticing. Luther carries you over his shoulder while the group tries to find a place to rest. Once arriving at a nearby park, the siblings sprawl out and complain about their aches and pains. Luther sets you down on a park bench laying his legs over yours to hold you down. “Get off of me you overgrown monkey! Let me go home or I’ll make you regret it!” You say trying to come off as threatening but Luther doesn’t take you seriously. “You know Y/N, you used to be a lot nicer. Now you sound like Five, and he’s an asshole. Here’s a fun idea! Why don’t you go back to being the nice Y/N we all know and love.” Luther sighs, covering his eyes with his arms and ignoring anything else you say or do.

Five sits up straight from the table he’s sitting at, “Luther quick, hand me the briefcase. Maybe I can time travel us back to the correct timeline.” Luther groans at the thought of having to move, he brings his hand to the floor in search of the briefcase to which he finds nothing. Luther lets out an awkward chuckle, “Yeah…about that…I might have dropped it when that blind one was chasing us with her scary birds.” Luther winces in preparation of Five’s wrath. The look on Five’s face turns murderous, “I ask two simple things Luther, that’s it. So simple even a monkey could do it…or maybe not. Keep my wife safe and don’t lose the briefcase. Is it that damn hard!”

You let out a laugh and tune back into the conversation at the mention of yourself, “Not your wife short stuff!” Five’s attention is now back on you, his nostrils flaring in frustration, “Yes Y/N, you have made that painstakingly clear. And you’re certainly not as sweet and loving as my Y/N and you’re annoying as hell. But until I can get my Y/N back, you’ll have to do. Not to mention, you’ll come in handy once the Sparrows realize you’re gone.” Five lets out a breath as an attempt to calm down, “We need a game plan and a place to stay seeing as we don’t have one anymore. Anybody have any ideas?”

part two, part three

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves x female!reader #number five #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves x reader

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quill-is-brainstorming · 1 year ago

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I've just re-read the short lived duel that Aeneas and Achilles have in Book 20 of the Iliad and it's actually the most hilarious fucking thing.

So it starts out with Apollo disguising himself as Lycaon, one of Priam's many sons, and telling to have a go at Achilles. Keep in mind that this is post-Patroclus Achilles. Aka: berserk Achilles. Aka: so fucking mad he would fight a literal river Achilles.

Aeneas, who is capable of critical thinking, says he doubts he can actually take him on. He also references a time when he was herding cattle on Mount Ida and Achilles ambushed him, adding that the only reason he survived then was because Zeus gave him enough strength to book it (cracking up the official times that he's been saved by a god from certain death to 3, you go dude!).

However, after a bit of back and forth and a ton of hyping up on Apollo's part, Aeneas decides to try anyway.

Like, what could possibly go wrong?

Achilles notices Aeneas charging at him and he begins to taunt him. It's something among the lines of: "I'm sorry, are you, background trojan character #61, actually gonna try and beat me? And then what? Do you think that Priam will reward you in some way? Maybe making you king after him? Well it's BULLSHIT, because Priam fucked so much that your chances of succeeding him are basically 0. Ahah. Loser."

Now, you'd think that maybe Aeneas got enraged at the comment and attacked him, or maybe he even got scared and backed down, but NOPE. What does Aeneas do?

Well, first of all, he insults Achilles' insults, comparing his bickering to that of a child. Literally, "I heard third graders do better than that." And then he decides to list his and Hector's entire fucking family tree.

You know that part of the Bible that's like "this guy sired this other guy, and this other guy sired yet another guy" and so on? It's basically that.

So after he's done with all that, Aeneas states that while he'd love to have a battle of insults with Achilles, because according to him he's actually very good at insulting people (his words, not mine), they should probably throw hands now. Achilles agrees.

The duel is shortlived and Aeneas gets his ass handed to him. Badly. As expected. And he's about die when ✨️POV shift✨️ we're not on Olympus where Poseidon, Hera and Athena are watching this absolute train wreck go down.

Poseidon, pitying Aeneas, suddenly goes on a rant. It's something among the lines of: "come on guys, look at him, he's just a little guy! He literally has no stakes in this war, he doesn't deserve to die here! He even gives us lots of gifts and sacrifices, he's literally such a nice guy. How can we do this to him!?

...oh and also he's part of some prophecy, Zeus would get mad if he died."

The fact that the way it's worded makes it sound like Aeneas being part of a literal prophecy is an afterthought to him absolutely floors me, Poseidon is literally just attached to a random dude that's fighting on the opposite side to his because he thinks he's nice.

After all that Hera is pretty unimpressed and states that she really doesn't care if our man lives or dies as neither her or Athena have ever saved a Trojan from death, she however adds that Poseidon is free to do whatever he wants.

The literal moment Hera stops talking, Poseidon lunges down from Olympus and onto the battlefield to look for the two combatants. When he does, he saves Aeneas like only he can do.

You know how when Diomedes first tries to kill Aeneas, Aphrodite gently folds her hands around him to shield him? There's none of that here. Poseidon just runs up to him and literally flings the motherfucker.

It literally says that he flies "high in the air". It's like a Looney Toons sketch.

So Aeneas lands and, while he's obviously a bit dazed, Poseidon proceeds to call him a madman and essentially tells him to never do something stupid like that again and just wait until Achilles is dead, then he'll be able to murder Achaeans to his heart's content. Aeneas is fine with that.

Achilles, who just saw his opponent just get yeeted into the fucking sky, just shrugs and goes "welp, guess that guy's off limits, I'm gonna go kill someone else now I guess lol".

This entire scene is pure fucking gold and the fact that I've literally never seen anyone talk about it just breaks my heart.

#tagamemnon #trojan war #the iliad #the aeneid #achilles #aeneas #apollo #poseidon #hera #athena

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goldsbitch · 7 months ago

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Just don't talk--------

-you might say something that hurts.

p10 to Just don't talk

summary: Enemies to lovers on steroids. The PR teams strike again.

Y/N was unusually giddy while doing interviews on the grid that day. It was hard to be nervous when in the corner of her eye she saw Lando, in his usual glorious unbothered style, seemingly more confident than he'd been the past few weeks.

Smiles shared in secret, both of them being lifted up by enormous amount of butterflies. Yet they both tried their best to keep busy in order to push off their inevitable "what are we" talk.

She was more than sure what she wanted to be to him. But the thought of him not being willing to make the lead was a scary one - so let's just ignore it and keep thinking about his tongue on her neck. And Lando? He was doing exactly the same. Both of them blissfully unaware that their crush has started to become impossible to hide.

"Y/N, what do you think about the car on this track? Will you be competetive enough for a podium?" was a simple and boring question that Y/N tried to answer in a creative way, but nothing was coming to her mind. With a great smile, she replied: "Yeah, I have a pretty good feeling that things are turning out for good."

Lando was "not so accidentally" passing by at that exact moment, deliberately taking the rout where he would have to walk past her, because his body just wanted to be near her at any point possible. His school boy instinct kicked in and in the same way as a five-year old boy would pull his crushes hair, he snatched Y/N team cap of her head gracefully in order to tease her.

"Hey!" she screamed in the middle of listening to another question from the interviewer and turned around, knowing well who that was, as she watched him approaching before. A small amused smile escaped her, it was impossible to stop it. Same for Lando.

"Oh, hello, Lando," the interviewer acknowledged him, hoping for some good viral content.

"Hey," was his speedy response, probably not ever trying to hide his own amusement.

Y/N tried to keep it cool and look at his lips. "Give it back, Lando." Nope, she failed at keeping her smile in.

"You know where to pick it up, honey," he said simply, winked and said goodbye to the interviewer as he walked away. Y/N's stomach dropped at how obvious he was with his flirting in public and how impossible she found it to keep herself together. She took a moment before resuming, internally fuming. She was happy and mortified at the same time.

"Well," Y/N said as she turned back to her interview. "Where were we?" And there it was - a fatal smile that would cost her in the future.

The interviewer was full on a mission to not let that go. "I see the mood has shifted between you two, has the previous feud passed now?"

"I guess you could say that, yes," she replied, slowly pulling herself back, heart still beating like after running a marathon.

"Do you guys spend time together off the track? Has that maybe helped?" How the fuck was she supposed to answer that?

Not so confidently, she pulled out a cliché line in order to save her. "We do our talking on the track." It was technically not a lie - what they did in their spare time was definitely not limited to talking.

"I see," the interviewer said, not satisfied with her answer.

"I'd love to chat, but my team is calling," he pointed somewhere off camera, somewhere where there definitely was not someone from her team pointing at her. She excused herself and strolled away, in the other way that Lando went, as quickly as possible.

Yes, she did. Oh god, it was becoming unbearable. How was he so infuriating? How can one manage to be so....ugh!!

The day passed by in a blur of meetings, interviews and fan meet and greets. Since their "joint" interview was live though, it took only few hours for the first edits to appear on social media, hashtags getting created and the two of them going viral once again. It was all a bit overwhelming, Y/N sat there and secretly watched every single edit she came by. There is one thing to fantasize secretly about your crush, another thing is when the whole seems to get on the same boat and romanticize the fuck out it. Was it making the whole thing more awkward? Probably, but Lando's and Y/N minds were too busy thinking about each other in order to take in the point of view of others. The whole grid became aware of the pair quickly becoming a meme.

Oscar limited himself to eye rolling only, as he was more than aware of what was going on.

Y/N was shocked to find Lando already sitting in with his and her team in one of the FIA's meeting rooms. The fact that this was happening outside of their team premise should have been a clear sign - they are being called into the same meeting. Nowhere to hide now.

Lando was sitting there, casually cramped up in a chair in an anatomically impossible position, legs twisted all around. "Can't he not sit like a normal person for once?" was Y/N first thought. The reason he sat like that was to prevent himself from foot tapping the whole building down. Acting cool and innocent, that was his strategy. He was sure they'll tell him to tone it down, not to bother Y/N publicly, he'll just nod at everything they say and then go finally cum all over her chest once again, just to prove to her that she is his. Not a hard task. He glanced at her innocently as she stepped in, doing a real bad job at hiding her shock. He rolled his eyes and smirked. This girl was so innocently cute. His own comms team shot him a warning look, so he just proceeded to stare into the ground. Y/n had very little time to get her strategy ready, cursing herself for not discussing this with Lando prior to this.

"Thank you both for coming on such a short notice," was how Lando's team opened the conversation with. You could cut the tension in the room with a butter knife.

"As you're both aware, we have tried several strategies in the past in order to get your image out in the best light as possible."

Y/N let out a laugh which she could not contain in, to which Lando shot her a surprised, horrified and slightly amused look. Unbelievable.

"Continue, please. I am listening," he said, just to spite her.

"Thank you. Please guys, let's keep this civil and adult," this time her team stepped in to put her down. Lando could not remember having this much fun.

"To continue what my colleague started to say, lots of several approaches which did not bring the ideal results. And with today's development, we feel like this is another time for us to step in. You're both faces of prestigious brands and the teams rely on you being likable characters. Am I right?"

Lando nodded, as if he was lying about understanding a new topic in a math lesson - maybe little too much. Y/N just bit her lip and remained silent.

This whole thing was so bizarre, like being caught for stealing a candy bar while having a stolen gold necklace in your pocket.

"What would you suggest?" Lando asked and Y/N doubted anyone in the room was fooled by his act and must have seen though him. He was obviously having the time of his life. At this rate she would have a hole in her lower lip if she would keep biting it down this was.

"I'm glad you're asking, Lando, and hope you'll be able to cooperate."

"You can count on my sincere involvement in your strategy," he stated seriously and stared at Y/N comms team. His own team knew what was up with his attitude but decided not to call him out just yet.

Y/N glanced at the papers resembling a contact on the table. This is it, she thought, the no contact and no involvement agreement. They're going to stop them from talking to each other in public? Is that even allowed?

His's comms manager took a deep breath. "The numbers on all our socials have spiked up greatly since your interaction became of a positive nature. What we've seen today - that will make our sponsors more than happy."

Lando was quicker than Y/N to connect the dots. His mood changed drastically within seconds and he finally sat up straight.

"No. Not a chance," he burned his team with his hard stare.

"Lando, please, let us finish."

He was not having that. "I know what you're going to say and no, you can't just order us to do that."

"Nobody is ordering you to do anything. We're simply...Putting this on the table.

"Forget that, no way in hell am I ever going to agree with this," he said, pointing at the contracts lying on the table. The room went silent for few seconds.

"I'm sorry, what are we talking about here?" asked Y/N, not really having the dots connected just yet. Lando briefly forgot that she was in the room, suddenly regretting his quick dismissal. But he was not the one to be forced into anything like this. Better him having it break to her then them, right?

This time he was the one to take a deep breath and while speaking to Y/N, he still stared at the comms teams. "They want us to start fake dating for PR." He was hoping he got it wrong. But the silence on the other side of the table just proved him right.

This came as a shock to her. Was this their masterplan? Did they really have to meddle all the fucking time? "I...I didn't think these things actually happened in real world," she stated, honestly.

Why couldn't these two just get a minute to talk among themselves? Y/N's mind was once again stuck in a rut because of Lando Norris existing at the same time as she did. Million questions on her mind, but the biggest one - why was it such a hard and obvious no from him? He did not even consider it. This could have been an easy escape for them.

"What would that look like exactly?" she asked, wrapping her head around it.

She received smiles from the team, them being happy that she was seemingly somewhat on board. "Well, we would set a clear timeline with a deadline and a scheduled break up, set up a social media strategy, you'd accompany each other on social event and the PDA would be very clearly stated upon the mutual agreement between you and your lawyers. Involvement of other people around you would always be discussed prior and clear communication is key. We do not want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Of course, an NDA is part of this agreement."

It was impossible to look at him just yet. Her head was spinning. She was on the verge of crying and had to somehow hold herself together in front of all those people. She had to get out fast, like fast fast. She had her answer. He did not like her in the same way she liked him.

"Excuse me for a moment, I feel sick," she said and swiftly got up, nearly tripping over her own feet as she sprinted out.

part 11

_________________________________________

@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour @starmanv @riverxsq @eviethetheatrefreak @chonkybonky @bicchaan @saachiep81 @chezmardybum

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little-diable · 1 year ago

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Jessie - Dean Winchester (smut)

Another song fic, are we surprised? No, we aren’t. We really aren’t. Inspired by the song “Jessie” by Joshua Kadison. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is missing Dean too much, so she tells him all about the places she wants to visit with him – mere dreams Dean is set on turning real.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, car sex, very fluffy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.6k words)

“Hello?” Dean’s raspy voice echoed through the motel room, eyes flickering to the alarm clock placed on the old nightstand, reading 5:01 am. With a sigh leaving him, he plopped back down on the bed, waiting for her to start talking, not yet fully awake just yet.

“Dean? Hi, uhm, It’s me.” His heart skipped a beat at the sound of (y/n)’s voice, unable to stop his smile from spreading. With his tongue kissing his teeth he allowed himself to relax even further into the mattress, happy to hear the voice of the woman he had been in love with for years. “Did I wake you? I probably did, huh?”

“It’s alright, sweetheart. What’s going on? Nightmares again?” A hum left her, he could hear (y/n) shuffling around, probably trying to get comfortable on her mattress – the mattress he hadn’t been laying on for weeks, missing her more than words would ever be able to describe. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about a trailer by the sea, we could go to Mexico. We'll drink tequila and look for seashells. Doesn’t that sound sweet?” Dean’s heart couldn’t help but ache at the words rolling off her tongue, a quiet confession he longed for just as much as she did, desperate to grab her and a few boxes filled with clothes, set on moving away from the life Dean was fully stuck in.

“That does sound sweet indeed. You can always sell your dreams to me, you know that, darling.” For a few seconds neither of them spoke up, cherishing the quiet this night offered to them, minds taking them to the places they could only dream of, wondering if they’d ever be fortunate enough to spend their upcoming years together, somewhere new, somewhere where nobody knew either one of them. “I’ll try to drive down next week, we should be done here soon.”

“Don’t feel pressured, we both know you and Sammy are the only ones who can save this world.” Dean’s raspy chuckles clawed through him, fingers rubbing his tired eyes. Before either one of them could speak up once again, the door of the motel room was pushed open, exposing a sweaty Sam, returning from his morning run. And with a low “I love you, sweetheart” Dean ended the call, not sparing the teasing smirk his brother wore any of his attention.

……

She woke with a gasp, eyes finding an all too familiar pair of green ones. Dean’s cold hands were settled on her waist, waking her from her nap. With a gasp rumbling through (y/n), she pulled him down, arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his waist, murmuring his name as if she was trying to convince herself that he was actually there with her.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” Dean murmured his words against her neck, fingers teasing her skin, trying to pull her even closer, not daring to let her go just yet. Oh how he had missed being with her, how he had missed the four walls she called her own, allowing Dean to find his way back to her whenever he could squeeze in a few calmer days.

“God, I missed you too, so much. How are you? Any scratches I should take care of?” One of her hands began to stroke its way down his spine, feeling the muscles flex beneath her touch. Her touch had something awfully familiar to it, and yet Dean still struggled to accept that she was his, his only.

„No, I am okay. Come, I want to take you somewhere.“ Dean rose from the bed once again, hand stretched out for her to take. She looked up at him for a few moments, confusion swimming in her pupils till she finally gave in, allowing Dean to pull her in for another tight hug. “You trust me, right?”

“Of course I do.” Her giggles were swallowed by the kiss Dean pressed to her lips, hands placed on her waist, keeping her close. For a few seconds they allowed themselves to get lost in the kiss, communicating the emotions their bodies have been taken up by for the past days, their every longing, the pain of missing one another too damn much.

“Let’s go, I don’t want to be late.”

……

Hours later (y/n) found herself sitting in Baby’s comfortable seat, hand placed on Dean’s thigh, eyes focused on the rising sun. For the past hours Dean had driven them closer and closer to this very place, the beach (y/n) had been longing for. It had taken her a while to understand where he was taking her, and yet she still couldn’t believe that this was real, that he had actually taken her longings to heart.

“I love you, Dean.” A few tears welled up in her eyes, a sight that left Dean grinning, pulling her in for a slow kiss. She didn’t interrupt the sweet gesture, not as she rose from her seat, not as she allowed Dean to pull her into his lap. It didn’t take long for the kiss to grow rather heated, tongues meeting, teeth clashing, hands tugging.

The fire his mere touch managed to alight inside of her even managed to distract (y/n) from the beautiful sunrise, back turned towards the shore. Her hands found the hemline of his shirt, tugging on the worn out fabric in a desperate attempt to free Dean from the layers of clothing keeping them separated.

“Backseat, I want you to be comfortable.” Dean’s murmurs rumbled through Baby, begging (y/n) to let go for just a few moments, wordlessly crawling back with Dean following moments later. She watched him pull his shirt over his head, exposing the skin she had been longing for, greedily moving her hands up and down his chest. “My pretty girl, fuck, how I missed you. One day it’ll be just us two, I'll love you in the sunshine, lay you down in the warm, white sand, and who knows maybe this time, things will turn out just the way you planned.”

With a smile thrown his way, (y/n) couldn’t help but marvel at her boyfriend, the handsome man her heart had always been aching for. Only the hurried movements of Dean’s fingers managed to rip her out of her thoughts, freeing her from her jeans, with her panties soon following. He longed to fully undress her, and yet it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take, not when somebody could walk past the car any moment. She was his to admire, his to love, certainly not somebody he’d ever willingly share.

“Dean,” she whimpered his name, needing to feel him buried deep inside of her, not caring about any teasing, any foreplay that would keep him away from her any longer. Her body was aching for his touch, folds covered with her arousal, a sight that left his cock twitching – he could cum right there and then, Dean was sure of it. Within a few moments he had freed his cock, hand wrapped around him as he brushed the tip through her folds, lubing himself with her arousal.

Their eyes connected as Dean pushed into her, slowly, taking a few moments to adjust to the sensation that left both moaning in unison. For a second neither of them dared to move, relishing in the familiar closeness, the beautiful feeling they were desperate for whenever they were away from one another. Only as (y/n) choked on his name, fingernails clawing at his neck, did Dean dare to move, quickly building a fast pace.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, feels heavily, fucking heavily.” His praises rumbled through Baby, echoing off the four sides that felt like home to the two of them. (Y/n) couldn’t reply, at least not verbally, could only moan and whimper whenever he hit her swollen spot. Dean’s eyes were focused on her pleasure-drunken features, the eyes that had rolled back into her head, the teeth that were drawing blood from her lower lip, a sight so beautiful Dean could only hope he’d eventually take this memory to the grave.

Their bodies met over and over again, hands searching one another’s closeness, limbs trembling, very well aware of their way too quickly arising highs. Dean was set on fucking her into oblivion, set on making her forget her own name, just for the sweetest high they were oh so close to. Her walls fluttered around him, begging him to finally push her over the edge as one of her hands found her heat, rubbing her pulsing bundle of nerves.

(Y/n) called out his name as she came, head pushed off the seat to find his lips, swallowing the deep groans rumbling through Dean. He fucked her through her high, prolonging her orgasm as he chased his own, only letting go of her seconds before he came. With a deep exhale Dean came on her lower stomach, painting her skin white – a moment she had been dreaming of for nights on end, a moment that felt more intimate than any others.

“I love you, so fucking much, Dean Winchester.” With a laugh clawing through Dean, he kissed her one last time before he reached for a tissue, carefully cleaning up. He murmured the loving three words right back at her, eyes finding their way to the red painted ocean and the burning sky.

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural smut

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padfootagain · 1 month ago

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Love in Verses (XII)

Chapter 12 : Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again

Hi! Here is new chapter! This one is… interesting… Whiskey is very dangerous, indeed…

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 2527

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting – over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

Mary Oliver, Dream work, 1986

You ended up at your place with Andrew. After that awful dinner you both needed some emotional support.

You didn’t talk about the meal though. He didn’t mention how Frank had hurt you, you didn’t talk about how Andrew deserved better than Sam.

That was your final conclusion after the evening. Andrew deserved better than her. You didn’t know all the details that had drawn him away from a professional career in music, but you knew that it had been a tough decision to make for him. The way Sam made it sound, Andrew had simply given up. And yet, his eyes still lit up every time he talked of music.

You sat down on your couch with a bottle of whiskey, getting lost in thought as you replayed the conversation through your head. You had noticed how Sam had stopped listening the second you had started talking about your job, about music… about things Andrew loved. And perhaps you were too busy grieving for him, but was Frank the same with you? Because Andrew deserved someone who listened, someone who actually cared…

What did both Andrew and Frank saw in Sam that you didn’t? The question was relentless, spinning in your head again and again, a fly trapped under a glass trying to escape. What did you lack that she had?

You watched Andrew as he downed his first glass of whiskey. Neat. No ice or anything. He didn’t flinch, merely let out a long exhale as he let his head fall back onto the backrest of the couch.

“God… that felt good. I needed that,” he sighed, pouring himself another glass while you drank yours as well.

You winced slightly at the burn of the liquor, but silently asked for more anyway.

“What’s next on the list of things to ruin?”

Andrew chuckled at that.

“I reckon we haven’t really ruined anything yet… but… I guess not much until the New Year. You’re still coming to their party?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “We need to make a plan for this. We need to ruin something and then save the day.”

“We should ruin the champagne.”

“And replace it with another excellent one? Good idea. That could work for you.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know… Maybe help Sam. That would impress him.”

“Hmm… a knight in shining armour? Ruin her dress and you fix it?”

“Oh…. That’s nice! You’re very good at this Andy, that’s a little scary!” you joked, nudging him. “I could give her my dress, and wear some disgusting clothes instead. The self-sacrifice will make him grow fond of me.”

“I’ll make sure to have the worst change of clothes in my car.”

“Perfect.”

“They said they wanted to organise the party in some sort of club…”

“Hmm… I bet you love the idea.”

“I’m already panicking at the mere thought.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

You thought yourself silly for offering such a useless argument, but Andrew didn’t seem to think of it that way. Instead, he gave you a grateful smile.

“Why are we doing this again?” you asked, question aimed the ceiling as you sighed, Andrew shifted by your side.

“Because we love them.”

His voice sounded like a lie. It was true though. It had to be, somehow…

You drank again, tried to think of something else, let silence settle instead. It was okay. Silence with Andrew felt comfortable, like the world shushed under a blanket of snow. Natural. Slow.

And outside the world kept on turning, as if you weren’t in pain, as if you weren’t grieving. Wasn’t that a strange truth? Frank had left, and the world hadn’t stopped with him. You wished you could feel it spinning again, look at the rest of the world and feel its beating, and be part of it once more. Maybe, if someone listened to you, and understood you, and made you feel safe again… if you could be yourself with them…

“I’m glad you listened to the record,” Andrew spoke after a while and another emptied drink.

“I loved it.”

“It’s one of my favourites. My father listened to it often when I was a child.”

“Is he the one who made you love music so much, your father?”

Andrew nodded.

“He was sick when I was a child. Bad surgery on his spine. He never recovered.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was a drummer, back in the days. And even after everything changed he just… I don’t know. No matter what we said to each other, how angry we were, how much we argued… we’ve always had music in common. Even when we couldn’t communicate properly, we would put on a record, sit in silence and listen to it, and then we’d discuss it, and things would get better.”

You knew that he was blinking tears away, heard him sniffing. He wasn’t looking at you and you were still staring at the white ceiling. It didn’t matter. Perhaps it even made it easier.

“I just… I didn’t… I made a choice, back in the days, you know? I wasn’t being a coward or something, I just… I didn’t want to tell other people’s words; words that I didn’t care about, I wanted people to listen to me. I wanted to make something that was true and earnest. I wanted… I wanted for someone to listen to me…”

He sniffed. You reached across the couch for his hand, easily found his fingers. He held your hand so easily, like it was obvious, like your hands were meant for that gesture, for holding onto each other. His so large, yours so small in comparison…

“I thought she used to listen, but I don’t know anymore. She wasn’t listening tonight. She hasn’t listened in a while. Do you think…? Do you think she ever listened to me? I had so much to say that I couldn’t express, I didn’t know how, I still don’t know how… I wanted her to listen… God I wanted for someone to listen, just once… just once…”

You tightened your hold on his hand, and you hoped that he would understand what you meant by this simple gesture. That you were listening now. That you listened. That you understood him. That you were there…

“Thank you.”

His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough.

You struggled with your own tears as you spoke again, your voice shaking.

“I don’t understand why Frank needed to wait for me, and not for her. What… I feel like I’m lacking something…”

“You’re not.”

You felt his stare on you now, but you kept your own gaze set on the ceiling.

“You’re not lacking anything, stop it. Frank is the one who left…”

“Because he saw something in Sam he didn’t see in me. And I don’t know what it is. And I’m scared… I’m scared that I thought he cared about me, and he didn’t. I’m scared to have built my life on that kind of lie. And the worst is… I still want it. I want the life he promised me.”

You were surprised when Andrew let go of your hand. But then you felt his palm cupping your cheek, the brush of his thumb drying your tears.

You finally turned to him, he gave you a sad but soft smile.

“Don’t cry over him. Please, don’t cry.”

You sniffed, let him caress your skin for a moment longer. It felt reassuring, anchoring. Soft and tender. Safe. You felt safe with him…

You shook yourself, moved to the bottle of whiskey again.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t cry,” you nodded, drying your face on your arm. “Let’s get hammered instead, that was the deal!”

Andrew silently agreed by handing you his empty glass for a refill.

“Tell me something silly,” he requested.

“Something silly?”

“Something about… your college days. Those are always worth a good laugh.”

“It’s good craic,” you agreed with a chuckle. “Alright… I’ll tell you a couple of stories. But you’ll have to tell me some as well!”

“Fair enough.”

You exchanged a smile, united your glasses with a cling.

And then you talked about yourself. And he listened.

Your head was spinning, you weren’t sure anymore if it was because of the alcohol or how much you were laughing.

You let yourself fall back into the sofa, holding on your painful stomach, tears in your eyes and on your cheeks. God, you hadn’t laughed so hard in… you were about to think ‘since Frank’ but you couldn’t remember ever laughing so hard with him.

“There was this one time,” Andrew went on. “I was playing with a band… Alex thought it would be hilarious to hide my guitar… I was so fucking panicked, I fell down the stairs leading to the stage and almost broke my neck…”

You doubled over with laughter, and he followed you close.

“How did you pay him back?”

“I told the girl he fancied he couldn’t read music, and she went on to teach him…”

You were hysterical at that point.

“And then…” Andrew choked on his own breath, and it took him a moment to recover and speak again. “Then, he was too afraid that she would push him away if he said anything, so he pretended he didn’t know and let her teach him all over again…”

You were both laughing too hard, the alcohol blurring your senses and making the stupid jokes and silly stories funnier than they ought to be. You looked at the bottle of whisky, admired the empty part of it, felt the burn of its effects on your cheeks.

And you looked at Andrew who was drying his cheeks, his long fingers spread across his stomach. He took off his glasses, they were wet with happy tears. He put them down on your coffee table and leaned into the couch again, slouched and comfortable, with his cheeks flushed with the liquor you had been drinking through the evening. His hair was held back in a messy bun, that had only become messier along the evening.

Damn, you couldn’t help the thought when it crossed your mind, because he was so bloody handsome…

He felt your stare on him, turned his attention fully to you. Focused and expectant, as if he knew you were about to say something incredibly interesting. And this black shirt he had on…

There were butterflies in your stomach and stutters on your tongue while your heart was pounding. You didn’t think. You didn’t think at all, you only felt, and wanted and easily yielded… and perhaps it was just the liquor, you would blame it on the whiskey in a few hours, but for now, you weren’t thinking about tomorrow morning. And for the first time in three months, you weren’t thinking about Frank at all either. Instead, you were thinking of Andrew, of how gentle and warm he looked sitting with you on your couch, how inviting his lips were, how you longed to touch his hair and his beard and him and…

… and then your lips were on his.

You felt him raising his eyebrows, but when you leaned closer and let your fingers find their way to his cheeks, the brush on your cheekbones told you he had closed his eyes too. And there you were, kissing him, and he was kissing you back, your mouths moving in perfect unison somehow, despite a first kiss and too much alcohol. He pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist, while his other hand came up to cradle your face. The long fingers soon moved to your hair though, pulling you closer while he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow, lazy movement while you kissed, gasping for air every now and then, but your lips always connected again after a mere instant. You weren’t sure for how long you kept on kissing, too long for it to be meaningless, and yet you refused to think for now.

When you at last opened your eyes again, Andrew blinked at you, seeming a little shocked, and you weren’t sure if it was a good sign or not. You felt dizzy… dizzy with his scent, something of wood and a tinge of spices. Dizzy with his taste still on your tongue, a mixture of whiskey and something that was just him. Dizzy with the burn of his beard against your skin, with the heat of his body against yours.

Dizzy with him…

“Y/N?”

The way he whispered your name, his words a little slurred because of alcohol, and yet it sounded so good, tender, like he cradled the vowels and the consonants in his mouth, with tenderness in the way he spoke it out loud…

He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go, his hands on your waist and in your hair still, and you held onto him for a moment longer, admired how your kisses had reddened his lips.

Why did it feel so good to hold him? Why did it feel so good to kiss him…

“Erm… You… you kissed me.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did,” you whispered, refusing to pull away, remaining in his arms and your lips only centimetres away from his.

“You… I mean… We…”

You felt him leaning closer again as he took a deep breath, felt the brush of his lips on yours… but just when you were about to lean in, he pulled fully away, moving further away on the couch.

“Wait… what’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, regretting his brown curls between your fingers and the warmth of his breath against your mouth. But then your brain kicked in again, and your eyes grew round as the realization of your own movements sank in.

You had kissed him. You had kissed Andrew…

Holy…

“God, I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I… I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. God…”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, but it was obvious that he was shaken.

“That was so out of line, I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s okay… I… I think we’ve both had a little too much to drink.”

“Yeah… yeah, I think it went to my head.”

Why was your heart aching when you thought he regretted it. He should have regretted it. And you ought to regret it too…

“Frank and Samantha…” you mumbled under your breath, thinking out loud, but Andrew caught your words and nodded.

“Yeah… yeah, we… they are the ones we want.”

He slowly nodded, ran his hand across his face, as if to clear his head.

“You… you were just drunk. Just drunk…”

He looked at his watch.

“God…it’s almost 2 a.m. We should go to bed…”

You nodded again, but stopped him when he pulled out his phone.

“I have an extra bedroom, you can stay if you want.”

“I can take a uber.”

“It’s late. You can stay, if you want to.”

Slowly, he nodded.

You let him head to the bathroom, and hid inside your bedroom, resting your back against its wooden surface as you closed it.

What the fuck was that?

#hozier #the hoziest #andrew hozier byrne #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier series #hozier fic #hozier au #hozier professor au #professor au #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

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selineram3421 · 9 months ago

Note

Heeeey, semi-insipred/totally inspired by "As the World Caves in" can you do a story that involves Alastor going after that one last killer he hadn't got yet. Like alot of serial rapist-murders, they have a type they go after. Maybe Alastor's fiance is exactly 100% the type, and he starts noticing a new car in their neighborhood and a new seemingly friendly face in their lives that seems to be VERY interested in his fiancé, but mostly he is just seen walking a dog and from gossip might be the new bf of a neighbor (who doesn't fit the type). Nothing OBVIOUSLY suspicious to your averge person but maybe not Alastor.

Maybe they can be kind of a foil to Alastor where Alastor in his own twisted way has a nobel cause of trying to stop extremly dangerous crime by killing criminals that the cops aren't getting either on purpose or theoufh incompetence.

Maybe the serial rapist murder also thinks they have a nobel cause thinking they are "saving women from this terrible world." Or whatever idea that they got in their head to justify their wants. Maybe just some guy. Crooked cop knowing how to dodge the system. Ifk.

Idk, I'm messy and here for the DRAMA!

Ooooo~ Some of you wanted mooooooore. Lol.

Coming Apart

As The World Caves In

Human Alastor X Human Reader Oneshot

Warning!⚠

⚠ she/they for reader, mentions of hunting, blood/gore(discriptive injuries), fluff/angst, food mention-breakfast, hinting at the start of cannibalism, stalking, attempted rape, murder, blood!, bad dog owner, reader gets their hands dirty, self defence ⚠

Being engaged to Alastor is very much like being partners in crime.

It is never boring.

Instead, its quite exciting and unexpected at times. Sometimes its good but sometimes it could also be bad.

Like right now.

It was late at night.

Only students working on papers or assignments are up at this hour. Thankfully with blasting music, headphones or not.

You were up waiting.

Alastor was out on one of his "deer hunts", you like to call it. Only because you found antlers mounted in his dorm when in college and thought he hunted them.

It gave a good cover for his occasional late night outings.

The hour was way past twelve, quiet in the apartment save for the ticking from your antique mantle clock sitting on the windowsill.

Outside was a different story.

Modern times have a more active night life, and cars pass by now and again. Not too often.

Thank god I don't live on a main street.

You thought, scrolling through images on your phone. Trying to ease the multiple worried thoughts swarming in your mind.

He was late.

Later than usual. Both of you had a long talk about how to carry out his "hunting" properly to ensure it did not disturb nature too much.

It was still bothering you.

He's late.

Then you notice that you've started bouncing your leg in place, and your thoughts keep spiraling.

Finally, there's a sound by the door.

Practically jumping up, you rush over and check the peep-hole, seeing him looking down the hallway and leaning over a bit.

Opening the door quickly with a smile, it shifts into a gasp. "Alastor!", you end up saying in shock instead of happiness.

He's holding himself up by leaning his hand on the doorway, his other hand is red and pressed up against his abdomen. "Hello darling..", he gives you a wobbly smile. "I'm home."

"Get inside, quick!", you whisper shout and pull him carefully.

He hisses in pain but follows you inside the apartment, not going too far. Moving to the wall, he slides down against it to a sitting position in the entryway. Letting out a few more noises of pain when you peel away his hand and shirt from his wound.

"Al.. Al honey, we have to get you to a hospital.", you manage to not stutter out.

"No-what? No. Then they'll ask how I got stabbed.", he says and moves your hand away with a sound effect to go with it. "Pssshh."

"And that tells me how much blood you've lost.", you say as you call an ambulance.

Both of you end up learning more first aid so this doesn't happen again, and so there is no suspicion.

At least it was never boring. Both of you hate being bored.

❇

Weekend mornings are Alastor's favorite.

Because every weekend morning starts off with music.

"Lovin' you is easy cause you're beautiful~", he sings and dances with his fiancé in the kitchen.

"Don't forget to flip the pancake.", they say and give a quick kiss, that turns into a slightly longer one.

Flipping the pancake quickly, he goes back to them to continue dancing.

"And everything that I do is out of lovin' you~", he hums the rest.

The radio continues to play the song as the two prepare breakfast.

Coffee is almost done and mugs are set out, plates are on the counter nearby the stove, and the table has a vase full of flowers that were picked from yesterday's grocery shopping.

Yes, everything should be perfect..

But why does this look lacking?

Alastor thinks as he stares down at the plate he is putting food on, which has scrambled eggs, toast and sausages.

"And every day my life is filled with lovin' you~", she sang while pouring coffee into the mugs.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he finishes up serving the food and takes the plates over to the table.

"Darling, do we have anything planned for today?", he asks as he sets the plates on the table and pulls out the chairs.

"Hmm.. I don't think so.", they say, making their way to the table with the mugs full of coffee. "I'd like to go thrift shopping though, we can try finding that old radio you wanted.", they say placing the mugs on the table.

"I quite like that idea. Let's do it!", he agrees with a smile.

The two sit down to eat and talk about what else they might buy.

Its a week later that his fiancé notices a new face in the neighborhood.

"Do we have a new neighbor?", they ask while looking out the window, but staying near the wall to be out of sight.

"A new neighbor?", he asks and makes his way over, standing next to them and also taking a look.

There's a man sitting at the bus bench on his phone with a dog leash in one hand. Odd thing is that a dog is nowhere to be seen.

"Do you think someone was dog sitting for him?", she asks.

"Perhaps, but we can't be too sure.", he says. "Let's go back to planning love. We're almost done with all of the food options."

"Don't forget the sweets table.", they say and head back over to the couch.

"How can I forget your sugar addiction.", he says with a light laugh and follows behind them.

"At least I know you won't steal my treats."

A few more days pass and the stranger is still hanging around the apartment complex. Not liking the odd vibes he gives off, Alastor visits an elderly neighbor that both of you like to call Grandmother.

He knocks on the door, holding a pie his love baked before heading off to work.

The door opens, revealing an old woman with white hair and wearing a purple dress, with a small pink flower broach pinned on their off white cardigan.

"Alastor, what a surprise.", the old woman smiles.

"Hello Ms Rosie, how are you today?", he offers a smile back.

"I'm doing well dear, come in!", she says and opens the door wider, walking to the living room. "Where is that lovely fiancé of yours?"

"They had to go to work today, one of the people called in sick.", Alastor answers and closes the door behind him before following the woman.

"Would you like tea? I just made some cinnamon tea.", Rosie now makes her way into the kitchen. "Set the pie down on the coffee table."

He sets down the pie like asked and sits down on the couch, knowing the woman would make a slight fuss if he didn't.

Rosie comes back with two mugs of tea and hands one to him before sitting down on the other end of the couch. "How are you dear? Anything interesting to tell me?"

"I'm doing well, nothing too interesting but my fiancé and I went to a few antique stores last weekend.", he says with a fond smile, remembering when they got excited over finding a 1930s typewriter.

"Oh how lovely, was there nice jewelry or tea sets?", she asked.

"There was a good amount of tea sets but most of them were incomplete. We managed to find you something that you might like.", he says before taking a sip of the tea, burning his tongue in the process.

Too soon. He thought with a small sigh.

"How sweet of you both. I'll make you both something to wear. Do you like sweaters?", Rosie continues to talk about different kinds of sweaters she could make for them.

"We both like sweaters, I'll visit again soon and let you know what kind with my fiancé.", Alastor says and puts the mug on the coffee table. "I wanted to ask if you know something about that strange man sitting on the bus bench across the street with a dog leash. He looks about like he's in his late thirties."

"Hm.. Yes, that man came into the building once. Asking to put up some missing dog flyers. Don't understand why he's just sitting on the bench. Maybe he's just waiting for someone?", Rosie says, mumbling the last bit. "Well, the other women say he might be a boyfriend of some young girl living in the apartment. Of course its just a guess."

"Hmm. I see.", he hums.

"Why do you ask dear? Did that man cause trouble?", Rosie asks.

"No, just surprised by the new face.", Alastor flashes a smile.

Before leaving the old woman's apartment, she gives him some red tea.

The next day both he and his fiancé are walking to the car when the strange man walks over.

"Excuse me, have you seen this dog around?", he asks them and holds up a flyer.

"No.", Alastor says after taking a glance at the picture.

The dog looks fluffy and has a bandana around its neck, but the image is terrible and you can barely tell what kind of dog it is.

"What about you miss?", the man then asks them, taking multiple steps forward.

"No, sorry.", they shake their head, taking a hold of Alastor's arm.

"We'll keep an eye out.", Alastor says quickly taking the flyer and the two keep walking. "Are you alright love?"

"Yeah, that guy just got too close.", they say.

That night, he looks up a list of stalkers and assaulters online. Only falling asleep after remembering that he has work tomorrow.

During work, there was an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

When it hit five, he gathered his things quickly and left the radio station. The drive back home was a little annoying due to traffic, but he got there earlier then he usually does.

Then his phone rang.

Picking up the phone after seeing it was her, he let out a small sigh of relief.

"Hello darling. I just got home, so-", he started.

"Hey Red, remember that guy that kept sitting on the bench across the street? He- he followed me to work today.", they say shakily. "He had flyers like last time but he's been outside the building since putting some up."

"I'll be there. Stay on the phone with me and tell your boss the situation.", Alastor says quickly and gets ready to head out.

"Ok.."

When he gets there its dark, only the street lamps, a few stores, and cars passing by are giving off lights. The phone call ended when he said that he was around the corner.

Getting out of the car and running over, Alastor heads inside the building they work in and asks for them.

"You're their fiancé right?", the woman, who he assumes is your boss asks.

"Yes, are they ok?"

"Yeah, but the guy is still around. I'm going to need you to "buy" something while they sneak out. That ok?", she asks.

"Yes, that's fine. I don't care.", he says and gets a few bags of candy in the front.

Then he sees them walk out to the front.

"Hey.", they wave.

"Thank goodness you're ok.", he sighs and pulls out his wallet and keys. "Take the keys while I pay, the car is nearby. You have it yes?"

"Yeah.", they nod and take the keys, then look over to their boss. "I'll head out now."

"Walk out with Anthony and be careful.", the woman says as they head to the back. "The candy is for them isn't it?", she says as she scans the items.

"They eat candy while at work don't they.", he says with a chuckle.

After getting everything, he heads back to the car and sees that they've made it inside safely.

She unlocks the drivers side when seeing him walk up.

Opening the door, Alastor gets in and passes them the bag of candy, locking the door quickly after closing it. "How are you feeling love?", he asks while starting the car.

"Uh, a bit terrified to be honest.", she says and takes out sour candy. "Thank you for the candy."

"Let's go home.", he says.

Both of them keep an eye out for any cars that might be following them. And to be extra safe they don't turn on the lights when entering their apartment.

❇

After that, you called the police but of course nothing was done about it. They only said that they'd keep an eye out.

It was unsettling.

That guy knew where you lived and where you worked.

Seeing your uneasiness, Alastor suggested that both of you get away for the weekend and rent a cabin.

"We'll have Rosie come by and house sit for us so it looks like we're still here. I'll rent a car and we can go up to that mountain you told me about so much.", he holds you close, pulling you into a dance.

"Really? We can go anywhere, it doesn't have to be-", you started but were shushed with a kiss.

He pulls away with a smirk.

"Yes darling, you love it up there and you can show me all of the little shops you've explored, like that Little Dandelion bakery.", his smirk softened into smile as he lifted his hand up to caress your cheek. "I want to see you smile up at the trees again."

You hid your blushing face by resting your head on his chest with a soft huff. Alastor chuckles and continues to sway you in place, kissing the top of your head.

Rosie came to your apartment with her knitting tools and measuring tape the next day, a Friday evening. She had a book on patters for sweaters, yarn rolls almost spilling out of her bag.

"I'll take your measurements before you head out, go through the book if you want something specific.", the old woman said placing her things down on the coffee table.

It didn't take long before you both went out through the back of the building, going to the rental car that Alastor got. You helped put some of the bags in the trunk before he stopped you.

"Don't bother with this love, get in the car and lock the doors until I'm done.", he kissed your forehead.

"Ok.", you nodded and went into the passenger side.

Once finished, he joined you in the car and began driving. Both of you didn't know that the man had taken note of all the licence plates in the area.

The drive was peaceful, just an hour and a half away. You held the map on your phone as the car passed by familiar grassy hills and the old church ruins. At some point you both got off the car to get snacks and stretch your legs.

Driving up the mountain, you were beaming when the car drove through a cloud.

"I hope it rains, it's so pretty and smells nice in the rain.", you commented.

Soon both of you arrived and you told him to park near the shops.

"The restaurants are nearby, so we don't have to walk that far.", you explained.

Alastor smiled as you dragged him from shop to shop, and even praised the food from one of the restaurants that you took him to. The last stop was at the bakery you favored.

He took the orders while you found a spot to sit outside.

Paying for the sweetbread and coffee, he also got you a small pie. It didn't take long for the drinks to be ready and they quickly gave the baked goods.

Now I see why they like it here so much. Good service. He thought before stepping outside and looking for you.

But you weren't anywhere to be found.

"Darling?", he placed the items on a nearby table and looked around the area.

You would have told him if you were going somewhere, he knows that you would have waited for him. Something was wrong. Where were you?

Looking at the woodland floor, Alastor quickly went into hunting mode. It was quite easy to pick out shoe prints as the dirt was still damp from the morning rain. He knew your shoe size and the pattern on the bottom of your shoe, because you added little hearts to make markings with every step you took.

He found the little prints, but what had him more alert was the signs of struggle.

Someone had forcefully dragged you away.

Quietly, he followed the prints and soon found you pressed against a tree with a man covering your mouth.

"Don't you see I had to save you?", the man said as he tried to undo your pants.

"Mph!", you clawed and punched to get out of the gross thing's hold, effectively scratching the man's face till it bled.

"STOP FIGHTING ME!", he shouted and threw you on the ground.

You hit your shoulder on a rock which made you yelp in pain.

Alastor used this moment to tackle the man.

"YOU FUCKING PIG!", he growled and started beating the man in the face. "HOW DARE YOU! YOU NASTY, LOATHSOME-!"

"ATTACK!"

There was a loud bark and then before he knew it a dog was trying to maul him.

"Get off you beast!", Alastor tried his best to throw the dog off but it just kept biting and ripping his jacket.

He was angry.

At the man and at himself.

How could he have ignored everything else? He should have noticed there was a mutt. But in that moment all he saw was red. He couldn't let that man lay another hand on you.

"Argh!", he yelled as the dog bit his leg. "You little shit!", he kicked the dog.

It took longer than he would have liked but he knocked the dog unconscious.

Alastor dragged himself to lean on the trunk of a nearby tree. Arms and legs firing up with pain, him barely able to move an inch before the burning flared up again.

"AAAAHH!"

He heard his love scream out.

Finding her and the disgusting man near the other side of the trail, he sees that they've taken the upper hand and pulled out their sharp pair of scissors.

Ah, its Mr. Stabbington.

"STAY STILL YOU BITCH!", the man yells, grabbing her by the neck and trying to choke her. "CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M DOING YOU A FAVOR!?", he rolled them over until he was back on top.

"L-LET GO OF ME!", you coughed before stabbing him in the neck.

Blood splattered and dripped onto your face as the man looked down at you in shock, his face staying frozen that way as he dropped.

You shivered in disgust as the body pressed against you, feeling how aroused the creep was when you moved your leg to kick his lifeless body off. Not sparing another glance at the body, you quickly turned to rush over to your lover's side.

"Alastor!", you cried, throwing the scissors as you stumbled over, kneeling down by his side to look over his wounds. "Oh god, you're bleeding so much-!"

The dog had left bite marks and gashes, his blood starting to sink into the soil.

"I-I'll call the local police and-and an ambulance will get here!", you took off your jacket and covered him before shakily taking out your phone. "Fuck!", you shouted at the no signal.

He called your name softly and held onto one of your hands. "I'm going to be ok, just go to the cafe and bring help."

"I don't want to leave you here.", you sniffed, and pulled the chain of your necklace, a whistle at the end of it. "I'll use this and shout but I'm not leaving your side."

Your love nodded and let you do what you wanted.

"You look beautiful in that shade of red."

It only took a few minutes before someone had come to help.

"HOLY SHIT!", the person yelled and ran over.

Local police arrived and the clinic vehicle as well, you told the police the summary of what happened before promising to tell the rest after Alastor was taken care of.

You got into the back of the clinic van and held onto your love's hand whenever you could.

He would be ok.

He had to be ok.

This took me a while but yay. More human Alastor. There will be more✨

~Seline, the person.

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