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cosmerelists · 1 year ago

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Pros and Cons of Stormlight Characters in the Middle Seat Next to You on a Budget Airline.

As requested by anon. :)

1. Kaladin

Cons: His legs are so long. His hair is so luxurious. His shoulders are so broad. This large, beautiful man is not trying to be in your space, but the budget airline seat cannot contain him. Pros: You started what you thought was an idle conversation, but by the end of your flight, he had diagnosed your chronic pain and become your therapist??

2. Shallan

Pros: Well, she's more of a regular-sized human and she's friendly but quiet. She seems to just want to sketch the whole flight, so no complaints! Cons: Why does she keep staring directly at a space across the plane and sketching the creepiest symbol-headed creatures you've ever seen with her eyes vaguely glazed over like she doesn't even know she's doing it holy shit is this a Twilight Zone situation where there are invisible gremlin monsters on this plane that only she can see and is it your imagination or do you hear humming from somewhere

3. Adolin

Cons: Listen, this is a budget airline, and this guy seems to think it's a fancy spa?? He's got the slippers, the posh eye mask, the luxurious travel pillow, some really nice face creams, and he seems to be video chatting with a girl even though the internet on the plane doesn't even work. Frankly, you're jealous and grouchy about it. Pros: Okay, he actually seems really sweet and he gave you some of his way-too-nice-for-an-airplane snacks. You take it all back; this guy is awesome.

4. Szeth

Pros: He is so still. So quiet. Almost folded in on himself. Barely...breathing? Honestly, you keep forgetting the middle seat is occupied, and how rare is that! Cons: You just...you think you'd feel better if he just blinked. Just once. Please.

5. Lift

Cons: You had to sigh just a little when a little kid plopped down next to you. Also, she goes to the bathroom every five minutes, and comes back with food every time. You think she might be robbing people. Pros: She complimented your butt quite sincerely. You've always been kinda self-conscious about your butt! But apparently yours is the "second best she's ever seen." Feels nice.

6. Jasnah

Pros: Like, is it possible for someone to just be really good at flying? She came in, expertly stowed her luggage, sat down elegantly, did her seatbelt, used a wipe to clean up the tray table and surrounding area, and immediately starting reading some thick tome. Do you have a crush on her? You might have a crush on her. Cons: She glanced at the book you're reading, and you know she judged you for it.

7. Wit

Cons: Does this guy EVER stop talking? Pros: Okay, actually, you found him kind of annoying at first, but that story he told you about the temple and the duck might have healed years of trauma? Did you just realize that you don't have to forgive your mom and that's okay?

8. Renarin

Pros: He sat down and you were like, "Okay. Cute nerd. I dig it." Cons: You just wish he wouldn't scrawl foreboding-seeming numerals on the back of the airline chair in front of him. Is it counting down to...just before the plane lands? What does it mean???

9. Amarem

Cons: He came in and was IMMEDIATELY like, "I am taller than you and so I should have your seat." And then he just...waited? Like he thought you'd just comply??? Pros: He seems intent on pretending that never happened. Fine by you. That guy seems like an asshole.

10. Zahel

Pros: He falls asleep, like, immediately and doesn't stir for the entire flight. Cons: He's just kinda stinky.

11. Dalinar

Cons: He sits down and, unprompted, says something like, "In my youth I would always battle to occupy every armrest but now, after reading The Way of Planes, I have realized that it is the journey, not the armrests, that matter, so you can have them" and then you're like, "Dude, the person in the middle seat gets the armrests that's just common courtesy" and then he looks at you and you look at him and it's vaguely awkward the whole flight and nobody uses the armrests. Pros: Actually, after a while you do take the armrest and the tension goes down a lot.

12. Taravangian

Pros: He just kinda seems like a nice old man, you know? Kinda confused about stuff, but harmless enough. Cons: He falls asleep partway through and droops his head onto your shoulder and drools a bit and you know you sound ridiculous but it feels somehow calculated. Intentional. Evil.

13. Sebarial

Cons: The very second beverage service starts he's all, "Bring me a BOTTLE of wine" and you're like, "Oh no. It's one of those dudes who gets way too drunk on planes!" Pros: You know? This guy actually seems pretty jolly and chill. You catch yourself thinking, "I wish I could pretend he was my uncle." You're not sure where that came from.

14. Rock

Pros: He scoffs at the provided airline snacks and gets out this thermos and gives you the best damn soup you've ever had in your life. Cons: He's just a large, warm man. Very large. Very warm. Not his fault, of course, but now YOU are very warm.

15. Elhokar

Cons: Every time there is plane turbulence, he mutters something about how it's the assassins coming to finish the job. Poor dude must be really scared of flying. Pros: You feel a warm, parental feeling growing in you as you look at this sad, scared man. Maybe your mom was right. Maybe you WOULD be good with kids.

16. Eshonai

Pros: This lady is, just, SO excited to be traveling that it can't help but make YOU excited to travel. Like, you always thought plane travel sucked, especially budget airline travel, be she is so delighted by everything that you find yourself thinking, "You know, it IS pretty amazing that we're soaring through the sky right now traveling to a new land." Cons: Cons? No cons. You wish you could ALWAYS see flying through this woman's eyes.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Kaladin #stormlight archives #Shallan #Adolin #Szeth #Dalinar #Taravangian #Amaram #Sebarial #Eshonai #Rock #Renarin #Wit #Hoid #Jasnah #Zahel #Lift

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jarofstyles · 1 year ago

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Scarred

Harry and Y/N work at a haunted attraction together- but no one’s ever seen his face.

WC-5.2k

Patreon

Warnings- mention of scars, bullying, anxiety, mention of blood, exhibitionism hint, slight angst and fluff

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When Y/N had first signed up to be a scare actor, she had heard a lot of things.

Be careful of guests with fear aggression. You may get punched.

Do not take candy from guests, there was an incident.

Go for the people who are acting like they are too good for it. They make the best scares.

But the one she had thought was the most amusing?

Everyone is hooking up. Be careful who you choose.

Y/N had no intentions of hooking up with anyone. This had been a side job, a side hustle if you will, some money to pay off bills and let her get a head start on holiday gifts. She’d never anticipated that a scare attraction would have the amount of drama or hook ups that she had been exposed to. It seemed like people paired off, even her friends she’d made that had warned her in rehearsal runs, had found people to fuck around with. She had no plans on doing anything with anyone- until she’d met Harry.

They had been in full costume when she’d met him. Skull makeup skillfully painted on his face, hair slicked back and some fake blood trickling down his temple. It was also splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles, as well as the large axe he dragged along with him to make sparks on the pavement. He had a swagger to his walk, a smirk on his face as he approached Y/N, eyeing her up and down.

Her own costume was of a crazed vampire princess. An elvira adjacent dress with multiple rips, loads more fake blood on her dripping down her chin and smeared around her neck and hands. The choker holding a cross pendant had been his area of attack, gently tugging on it with a hum as he got into her space. Even with the red contacts in his eyes, she could read them well. It was hard not to. “Look at that….” he mumbled to her, their faces nearing as he lifted his hand to expose his cross tattoo near his thumb. “We match.”

That had been it before he walked away that time, but it wasn’t the end of it. It was only the beginning.

The first time they’d hooked up had been in an empty dressing room. Her face in his neck as he fucked into her, trying to hide her moans as he had taken her deep, her leg held in his hand as she was pressed against the lit table. He’d been filthy, whispering into her ear about how he would have done this out there if she had let him, how much he loved to feel her wrapped around him, his makeup smearing on her face and vice versa.

“There we go… what a tight little thing you are.” His breath washed over her lips, keeping their faces close. His cock had gotten deep in her, deeper than she had ever experienced without it being too much, and she had felt like he’d fucked her brain to mush. Repeatedly getting at her most sensitive spot, finding it and keeping right at it.

“Found it, didn’t I? So responsive. Teased me all fucking night, didn’t you?” He held her throat despite it still being sticky with the fake blood, watching her mouth open and panting. Her fingers held to the edge of the table and her knuckles pale, the slight wobble of her leg still on the ground cluing him in. “Do you know what I wanted to do?”

“What?” Y/N whispered. “What did you want to do to me?” She was desperate to know, not able to hide the desperation in the slightest with how well she was being fucked.

“I wanted to bend you over that bench. Brushed my stomach with those fucking nails… saying ‘oops’, like you hadn’t meant to. You did, you little slut. Just like you meant to push that perfect ass into me when you felt me come up behind you.” He hissed, tightening his grip on her throat. “Should have lifted up your skirt and taken you there. You were soaked for me then, weren’t you?” His grin was wicked, making her brain short circut. He was fully done in makeup despite it smearing near his mouth, and there was something so erotic about being fucked by a man in disguise.

“Fuck- more.” She pleaded, gritty voice gracing his ears along with her whimpers. His hand was wrapped deliciously around her throat and his fingers expertly pressing right against the sides, showing his experience and honestly, expertise at the art of erotic choking. “Spit- spit in my mouth, please? Please I just-“ she was cut off by his snicker.

“You’re filthier than I thought.” He laughed, watching in pleasured awe as her mouth opened and her tongue laid out, eagerly catching the string of spit as he messily gave it to her. She could feel his cock twitch in her as her eyes hazily looked up at him, swallowing it with a slightly deranged giggle.

“So dirty.” Her voice wheezed, opening her mouth for more. “Give me everything. I’ll be good, just- I want it all.”

Harry had definitely followed through in that promise. Hell, the man made her cum twice that first time, gently helping clean her up before they’d gone their separate ways.

Y/N had yet to see him without the face makeup on. She’d caught him without the costume and seen the gallery of tattoos he had inked on his skin, but he always beat her there and seemed to like the game of having seen her face without her seeing his. In some ways, it was like a bit of foreplay to them both. Y/N never knew she had a kink that was mask adjacent but here she was.

He didn’t even bother taking it off at the attraction, rather driving home in full makeup. Her friends had said they’d never seen him without it either, but the only thing they knew was his real eye color was green. Harry was a bit secretive and apparently had never hooked up with anyone in the past, despite working here for the last 5 seasons.

“He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you.” Kristen mumbled to her as they did their makeup next to one another. In the reflection she could see Harry standing in a group with some other scare actors, but his focus was on Y/N. Seeing her find his gaze in the mirror, he didn’t look away. Instead, he winked at her, continuing his observation. Y/N felt herself heat under her skin, shaking her head as her hand trembled slightly as she lined her lips.

“I bet he does. Come on, how big is he?” Her friend hissed, trying to gain some sort of juicy tidbit she’d been holding off on.

“Big.” Y/N laughed, placing the cap back on her lip liner. “I don’t know any more about him than you guys do. I know what car he drives, that he doesn’t have any social media, has green eyes and a big dick. But he’s still a gentleman above all else, he always walks me to my car. But that’s about it.” She wished she knew more. Having hook ups happen exclusively at work was hot, but she’d love to be on a bed. And not have to rush.

“I think he’s actually into you.” Kristen muttered. “I heard he was asking around about you. He hasn’t asked me anything yet but he asked Lila if you lived around here or if you travelled.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, meeting Harry’s in the mirror yet again. He rose a brow in return, narrowing his eyes at her with his smirk. “I don’t know why he’s asking other people that stuff when he can just ask me.” She replied, going back to filling her lips in with the lipstick. It irked her a little bit, she couldn’t lie. Y/N had tried to get more information on him but he’d sort of froze when she tried so she respected it and didn’t bring it up again.

“Maybe it’s because when you both are together you’ve got each other’s tongues down your throats.” Her friend snickered, making Y/N kick her shin. That got her to stop, but it didn’t make it any less true. It was real, she feared. Every night, since they were in the same scare zone, it was like foreplay when they walked by each other. His hand brushing her back or her arm, whispering something dirty to her as he passed by, or vice versa. But still.

At the end of the night, when Harry popped up out of nowhere while she cleaned her bag, she felt his hands grip her hips from behind. Her costume had been hung up on the rack, leaving her in athletic shorts and her tee shirt as his fingers dipped under the waistband, pulling her back into him and letting her feel his cock. It was in his jeans, his black tank top exposing his tattoos yet again as she looked at the hands feeling her up. “Heard you were asking around about me.” She said simply, allowing him to touch as she zipped up her bag.

“I was.” Was his answer, lips brushing over the shell of her ear. “Pretty little princess is a bit of a mystery. I’ve found the answers to be satisfactory, though.” He sighed, making her skin flood with chills as he kissed the delicate skin right behind her ear. Y/N found it hard to think when he touched her like this but it was hard to pull away when his touch was something she craved. Even in her day to day before she went to work, she thought about his mouth and his hands, How he tasted. She had bruises from him and they were constant reminders.

“What answers did you find?” She asked, leaning back in his hold and letting her ass rub against his length. His nose exhaled a harsher breath at the action, hands tightening on her as he groaned.

“Well.. You live around here. You’ve got a cat. Work full time. Know your age, know you like banana taffy which, in my humble opinion, is vile. But I don’t know enough. I want to know more.” His deep voice was hypnotic, making her want to spill her life story to him, but looking in the mirror to see his face still painted made her pause.

“I’m the mystery?” She laughed. “You don’t let anyone see your face. All I know about you is your name, your car, that you like ACDC, and you’re good in bed.” She huffed, turning around to face him. His contacts were out and the mossy green looked down at her, a grin lighting up his features as he replied.

“Good in bed, aye?”

“Harry.” She deadpanned, crossing her arms. “I’m serious. I don’t know much at all. Is this something you want to keep just here? Cause I’m a little confused why you’re asking around and wanting to know more when you’ve never let me see you without the makeup on before.” She could see him sober a little bit, body stiffening a little when he could tell she was serious. “It’s like you make it a point for no one to see your real face, which, it’s cool if that’s a boundary but I feel a bit at a disadvantage when you’ve seen all of me and I’ve barely seen any of you.” It felt a bit ridiculous to say, perhaps she was overreacting but it was something that she felt. She’d felt there was a bit of an imbalance.

Harry was quiet for a moment, releasing her from his grip as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to mull over it for a moment, making Y/N hope she didn’t upset him but it was a conversation they’d eventually have to have.

“I’ve never done this before.” He finally mumbled back. “I like this job because it lets me escape the day to day. The stares I get normally, it's the stares I want. I don’t- I don’t want you to feel disadvantaged because of it.” Obviously that bothered him. His brows were furrowed and his stance stiff, which she felt slightly bad for but it was simply the truth. It confused her a little bit, but he continued. “I just like what I’ve got going on here, and I don’t want people to look at me differently or anything like that. As for you, for us… I don’t want to keep it just here, but it’s the excuse I’ve got to keep the makeup on.”

Now she was very confused. Looking at him with it written on her face, she placed her hand on his arm for comfort as she tried to get his eyes to meet hers again. “What do you mean?” She asked gently, trying to approach the subject delicately. It was relieving to know he didn’t want to only keep it here, but it made her concerned to know something was holding him back from showing her his face. “You know, if you show me your face I’m not going to tell anyone else what you look like. If you want privacy, I respect that. It's not my secret or face to share.” Y/N hoped he would know that even in the short time they’d known each other.

“No, I know- I don’t think you would. I just worry because-” He obviously didn’t like talking about it and it made him uncomfortable, as this was probably the most they’d talked without slipping into something sexual, but he seemed to take her concern seriously. “I worry that you’re going to see me without the makeup and be repulsed or something. All of my exes, well both of them, they said they were okay with me and then it got too much when people stared at me and- fuck, okay….” He groaned, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got a massive scar going down the side of my face. Goes through my eyebrow, over my eyelid and down my cheek. Some skin is fucked up on the side too, s’textured- I was in an accident when I was younger and it fucked it all up.” He breathed, making Y/N’s heart ache. Once he started talking though, he was going and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she just slipped her hand down to hold his and nodded for him to continue. “I’ve grown up being called all sorts of shit and a monster- hell, even coming here to audition, they thought I was in some special effects shit. They were mortified when I told them it was just my face after they said they’d want to make it more gory, but… I come here in my makeup and no one sees the scar. They just see me and they think I’m attractive, and even if it's a little weird, I can anticipate the staring cause it’s not my imperfection. It’s anticipated. Dunno if I’m running my mouth for a stupid reason, but-”

“No. It isn’t stupid.” Y/N said firmly. “First, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, had to be hurt like that, and had people who hurt you because they’re cowards and can’t deal with people staring at you. That’s bullshit and it pisses me off.” She huffed, obviously irritated. “But I am not going to be repulsed or horrified. I like what I’ve seen of you this far, didn’t even think I’d hook up with anyone here if I’m honest, but you are extremely attractive, Harry. I’m positive that once the face paint comes off, that isn’t going to change. Scar or not. It’s how you carry yourself, how you talk. How you touch.” Her other arm lifted to wrap over his neck, pressing her body into his own. “If you aren’t ready to show me, you don’t have to. I won’t ever make you show yourself here either.” She motioned to the room around them. “ I understand, having an escape from that must be so nice but… I promise you, I’m not going to run away just because of a mark on your skin. I like you from what I know so far- even if it isn’t a lot.” Her voice was tender, trying to convey just how much she meant it. It could be such a good thing, at least in her opinion. They had incredible chemistry and got on and she wanted to see how far it could take them.

Harry took a moment to absorb what she said, nodding hesitantly before he pulled her back into an embrace. It broke her heart to feel his shaky hand on her back. He didn’t seem to be afraid of anything but this, working in a place built for screams and monsters, his real face was his secret. Y/N didn’t like that people had made him feel ashamed over something he had no control over. “I-I do like you.” He said quietly, chin on top of her head. “I was even worried, y’know, for after the season was over because I like how I feel around you, but I’ve been scared t’show you. If you really want to see…” He was a bit braver with her face tucked into his neck, her fingers stroking the hair peeking from his beanie that covered his head. “I think it could be cool if you came over t’my house.”

“Yeah?” Her face brightened and Harry swore right there that it would make it worth it. The underlying anxiety was still there but hell, Y/N hadn’t even blinked at the idea he maybe wasn’t as attractive as she thought underneath the makeup. “Okay! When?” Her body bounced in excitement and it made the pressure on his chest lift just a smidge.

“Uh- tonight? If you want.” He offered. “Or tomorrow, I’m not like, super bus- I write from home as my other job, and I do on the side too- so I make my own schedule, it’s really up to you.”

“I’d love to come tonight.” The excitement was audible in her tone, the more she spoke the less he felt anxious. “Let me grab my bag. Uh, why don’t you text me your address.” She suggested, pushing some of his hair back. “I’ll follow you there but in case we get lost.”

“Course.” He went to take out his phone but was interrupted by a pair of petal soft lips connecting with his, making him abandon his plans and inhale sharply as he reciprocated the soft kiss. His hand on the side of her neck, pulling her back in when she went to pull away and making her giggle.

“There will be plenty of that once we get there. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

—————

Harry’s place was cute.

In a row of condos, his was at the end and she could see a fence hiding what must be a hard. Long rather than wide, she was impressed immediately as she pulled up behind his car. He had already arrived but waited patiently at his front door, seemingly already put his stuff away.

Y/N wanted to coo at the decoration of the front porch of his place. There were a few carved pumpkins, a spider web, and purple and orange string lights hanging on the banisters. He obviously liked Halloween but she got her explanation when she started up the steps.

“Got a niece and I watch her for my sister sometimes.” He began to satiate her ravenous curiosity. Y/N was dying for any bit of information about him. “We uh, we had a pumpkin carving night with her and my mum.” There wasn’t any embarrassment which she loved. The man in front of her seemed to love his family with no shame and that was attractive to her beyond belief, her wide smile pairing with her nod.

“You get cuter the more I get to know about you.” Being openly flirtatious wasn't her norm, no, but she wanted Harry to actually see she liked him. She was sensitive to his insecurities and wanted it undeniable that she was into him, which wouldn’t be hard to prove. She really, really did. “Though I’m sad I missed out. I haven’t carved a pumpkin in years.”

Not wanting to be presumptuous, her bag was left in her car but… she definitely did want to stay for a while.

“That’s awful.” He clicked his tongue. “If I had a spare, I’d remedy that but… maybe another night.” The hint towards having more time with her away from the attraction made her heart soar if she was being honest, but she tried to hold composure so her smile didn’t look absolutely insane.

“I’m holding you to that.” She controlled her grin as he stood up, opening the front door for her. Immediately she was greeted with a comforting home. It was the exact opposite of what she had expected as a bachelor living alone. Photos of what looked to be his family on the walls, the odd art piece, a hanging rack with his keys and a few beanies and a sweater. He had a wicker shoe rack and a woven red rug in the entryway, stairs immediately to the left and what looked to be a dining room to the side.

“I’m sorry for a bit of a mess. I don’t really have people over much, so my dining room is my work space and… yeah. It’s got papers and shit.” He rubbed the back of her neck. “My office got small and I like to spread out.” It was a cute little quirk that she found to be fucking endearing. Seeing the neat stacks of paper and his laptop, what looked to be a light box? She wasn’t sure, but she thought she recognized it. He had a knit cardigan hanging off the back of a leather office chair on wheels, softening the look of it and making her wonder what he was like outside of work even more. He seemed to be… soft.

The house smelled like apples and cinnamon and she saw a wax melter thing as they walked through and he led her towards the living room, a step down to the space from the kitchen. Hardwood covered in a few different rugs that should look bad but didn’t. They all fit somehow, even on top of one another. A soft looking couch and giant bean bag looking thing were there too, making her wonder which he preferred to sit in.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked, standing with his hands behind his back. A slightly nervous thing he did. “I’m gonna go uh, take the makeup off.” It broke her heart to see his nerves come back like that. Her hand gently tugged on his arm, trying and succeeding to pull his hand into her own.

“I’m fine for right now but, I just wanted to remind you that I do like you already. I want to get to know you, to see your face. Okay?” Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand, noting his knuckles were still split. He’d blamed it on the gym. “I know it’s still scary but believe me when I say that you aren’t going to scare me away, and I’m not going to tell everyone what you look like. You’re safe with me.”

Her reassurance seemed to do a lot, his head falling from his stiff shoulders and looking at his feet as he sighed. Of course he was riddled with nerves. The one girl he actually liked had never seen him without his so-called mask, and he knew he could look jarring to people who weren’t prepared- but there was no use in wasting time.

“Alright. I trust you.” Weirdly enough, he actually did.

Hearing Harry’s return down the stairs, Y/N sat up a bit straighter. He’d been gone for about 10 minutes, 15 maybe. She tried to distract herself on her phone but it would be a lie to say that it worked. Her own nerves were acting out. Her biggest fear was reacting in a way he perceived as negative. He was trusting her with this, and she really didn’t want to fuck it up.

Y/N had no idea what to expect besides a scar. So seeing his face for the first time had really thrown her for a loop- because the scar held the least of her attention.

Harry was hot. Handsome. Attractive. Every word you could use to describe a god of a man, that’s what she would use to identify him.

His hair that was usually slicked back had been washed clean, damp waves falling slightly in his face. Paler skin than she had imagined, but it was still beautiful. His nose was on the bigger side like she preferred. His jaw and cheeks sharp, carved to perfection. If she could have compared him to anything it would be one of those Greek statues, or maybe what she had always imagined Apollo to look like. His skin was smooth and it looked soft, sans the slight stubble on his chin and around his mouth- she was familiar with that, though. So were her thighs.

His eyes looked even greener like this, not hidden behind the elaborate makeup. His lashes were still slightly clumped together from the shower, and by the time he had hesitantly sat in front of her, she was itching to have the eyes look up and back into hers.

The scar was noticeable, yes. It went down his face as he had previously described, the pinker skin with some puckering trailing down his left side. It made her heart hurt to know that this was the cause of his insecurities though, because honestly? In her opinion, it didn’t take away from his beauty.

It wasn’t often that she would describe a man as beautiful, but he truly was. Her words escaped her for a moment, but as soon as she had a coherent thought, she took a breath. “Harry….” She began to reach a hand up before pausing. “Can I?” Motioning to his face. He hesitated before nodding, leaning forward.

Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, looking over his face with a saccharine smile, feeling the heated skin under her fingertips as she traced over the raised skin. “You are absolutely fucking beautiful.” She mumbled. “Wow. You had nothing to worry about because… I’m a little shocked at how attractive you are. Knew you would be regardless but I'm kind of in awe of you.” She laughed, making him smile. She could feel it under her hands, pulling one away to make a discovery.

“For fucks sake! You’ve got a dimple too?” She whined. “That’s unfair. You should get to choose between chiseled features and dimples.”

Harry was flushed, but he joined in her laughter. There was no part of it that felt inauthentic. A bit of him felt silly, actually, with seeing her react so well. He’d worked himself up, gotten so anxious and upset over the prospect of her seeing him and being horrified that he had almost denied himself of getting to know her deeper.

“Yeah?” A shy tone tinged his voice making him want to cringe, but he truly was slightly shocked at how well she took it.

“Yep.” She chirped, climbing into his lap, helping herself to him. His hands went around her body as she took a closer look at him, seemingly enjoying what she saw and it made him a little flustered. The look in her eye was of genuine desire and attraction, the same if not more intense from when she had flirted with him at work. It wasn’t a reaction he was used to- or one he really looked for. “Harry… can I be honest?”

His stomach dropped to his feet, terrified for a mere moment before she continued at his jerking nod. “I think people stare at you because you’re fucking hot.” The blunt words were not at all what he expected, eyebrows shooting up at the opinion of hers. That’s… certainly not what he had thought she would say. “I’m serious. I’m kinda drooling over you. I have and do when you’re in your costume cause, duh, but you’re genuinely one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen. And the scar…” her finger ran over it on his cheek. “It’s part of you. It’s attractive. To me, and I’m sure many others.” Her mouth turned downwards for a second. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to erase the trauma you had to endure from growing up with it. I’m positive people have bullied you and said horrific things. But I just think… more people probably find you attractive than you realize. And your ex girlfriends are absolute fucking morons, no offense.”

The passion in her last statement had him sputtering out a laugh. She truly meant that! “I can’t say that’s the reaction I expected but, it’s better than I hoped.” He admitted, arms looped around her waist. Her eyes were drinking him in and admiring him, something he wasn’t used to. Maybe she was right about that, but he was used to and conditioned to believe his scar was ugly. Her approval wouldn’t necessarily fix that overnight but it definitely gave him a confidence boost.

“I’m sorry I hid from you.” His voice was quiet, letting her explore his face. “I really… I really liked you and I was so scared that it would scare you off. I got in my head about it. I don’t like being known as the ‘scar guy’ when there’s a lot more to me but I knew that if people at work knew what I’d look like they’d see me as that.” Which, it was understandable. Y/N seemed to get it, nodding along in support. “I don’t think I’m ready to show my scar there. I kinda of like being someone else there, but…” he licked over his bottom lip. “I'd like for you to see the real me. If that’s something you’d still be interested in.”

“Of course it is, Harry.” She insisted. “I’m only more into you now. Don’t get me wrong, your makeup is sexy and I love your persona there but… you’re right. There’s so much more to you that I’m dying to learn.” Her fingers pushed his damp curls from his eyes, exposing his face and tipping it up so she could brush her lips against his scarred cheek for a soft peck. “So let’s start. Tell me who you are.”

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unabashegirl · 5 months ago

Text

my best friend's dad | part 2

/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.

Author's note: I initially decided not to post this part on Tumblr, but people began having issues with me because of that decision. I received rude messages in my inbox, but I'm going to posting it—not because of the rude messages, but because my Patreon subscribers asked nicely for another part. I want to be very clear: I WILL NOT BE POSTING THAT PART ON TUMBLR. No matter how many insults I receive in my inbox, this will not change. i hope you enjoy.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all the one shots and much more :) thank you beforehand!

word count: 2.4K

warnings: smut

part 1

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry, determined to keep a respectful distance from Y/N after that morning’s perverted thoughts. He dressed in a freshly washed swimsuit and headed straight for his studio, a serene space filled with natural light and a calming view of the beach and pool below. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing background as he settled in at his drawing table.

He immersed himself in his work, focusing intently on finalizing the layouts for the new building project. The creative process helped clear his mind, and he found solace in the familiar rhythm of sketching and planning. Occasionally, he glanced out onto the balcony, where he could see Y/N below, absorbed in her book.

She looked peaceful, the morning sun casting a soft glow around her. He noticed her occasionally reaching for a piece of fruit from a bowl beside her, her expression content as she turned the pages. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight.

By midday, Harry had completed the layouts he set out to finish. He stretched his arms and stood up, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Glancing out at the balcony once more, he caught Y/N turning herself onto her chest and untying the top of her blue bikini. She slipped on the top and threw it beside the sunbed. She was topless and Harry tried to hold his composure.

“How is Bahamas?” Jeff, Harry closest friend asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

“It’s fine” Harry responded as he sat down and took off his reading glasses.

“It doesn’t sound like it. How is Scar?”

Harry sighed, knowing Jeff could read him like a book. "Scar's doing well," he admitted, leaning back in his chair and glancing out at the tranquil ocean view from his study. "But... there's something else."

"What's going on, mate?" Jeff's voice held concern.

Harry hesitated, unsure how to articulate the conflicting emotions he'd been grappling with since Y/N arrived. "It's Y/N," he finally confessed. "She's Scarlett's friend, and she's... she's a guest here."

Jeff remained silent, sensing there was more to Harry's unease.

"I find myself thinking about her more than I should," Harry admitted quietly. "She's smart , funny, and..." he trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the attraction he felt.

"You've got it bad, haven't you?" Jeff said knowingly.

Harry chuckled ruefully. "It's complicated. She's much younger, and I shouldn't be thinking about her like this."

"Maybe it's just a crush," Jeff suggested gently. "It'll pass."

"I hope so," Harry murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I just need to focus on work and keep my distance."

"Or you could test the waters. What if she's also interested?" Jeff suggested, knowing that his friend always played it safe and never ventured into morally gray areas. He believed Harry needed to embrace life more, and perhaps Y/N was the catalyst he needed.

Harry sighed again, torn between Jeff's suggestion and his own reservations. The idea of pursuing something with Y/N was both exhilarating and unsettling. He valued Scarlett’s feelings and didn't want to jeopardize them or make things awkward between them.

"I don't know, Jeff," Harry finally replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "She's Scarlett's best friend, and there's an age difference..."

Jeff interrupted gently, "You can't control who you're attracted to."

Harry nodded slowly, considering Jeff's words. He knew his friend meant well and understood his perspective, but the thought of complicating things weighed heavily on his mind. He had always been cautious, preferring to maintain boundaries and avoid unnecessary risks.

"I just don't want to mess things up," Harry admitted quietly, his gaze drifting back to the view outside. The ocean shimmered under the afternoon sun, a peaceful contrast to the turmoil in his thoughts.

Jeff nodded understandingly. "I get it. Just see how things unfold. You'll figure it out."

As they ended the call, Harry leaned back in his chair once more, reflecting on their conversation. He knew he needed to tread carefully, balancing his growing feelings with his respect for Scarlett and Y/N’s feelings too. He just wasn’t sure if he just wanted to sleep with her or something else.

Harry hadn't been in a relationship for years. He had devoted his time to work, ensuring his daughter had a comfortable life. If he thought about it that way, he felt he deserved to have some fun. However, he still didn't know if Y/N felt the same way toward him.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Harry?" It was Y/N, holding a bowl of fruit. Her hair was wet but pulled back by her sunglasses. Harry noticed she was already getting a bit sunburned and looked tanner than she had just three days ago. "I just thought you might like a snack," she said sheepishly.

Harry smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Y/N. That's very kind of you," he said, standing up and walking over to her. He took the bowl of fruit from her and placed it on his desk.

"So, this is where the magic happens," she said with a grin, walking over to the drawing table.

"Yep, this is it," Harry replied, his heart racing slightly at her presence. "Come, take a look.”

He led her to the table, where his latest project was spread out. Y/N leaned in, her shoulder brushing against his as she examined the intricate designs. Harry could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, and he fought to keep his focus on the work in front of them.

“Oh! Look at that” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. “The detail is breathtaking”.

"Thanks," Harry said, his eyes flicking to her face.

As Harry explained his vision for the project, he couldn't help but notice how close they were standing. The small studio felt even smaller with her beside him, and the tension between them was palpable. He tried to keep his voice steady, but the proximity was making it difficult.

At one point, Y/N reached out to touch a section of the blueprint, her fingers lightly grazing his hand. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he glanced up to find her watching him intently. The air seemed to thicken around them, and for a moment, the world outside the studio ceased to exist.

Harry cleared his throat, trying to dispel the growing tension. "So, um, that's the main living area," he said, pointing to the layout on the paper.

They stood there, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. Harry's mind raced, torn between the desire to close the gap between them and the need to maintain the boundaries he'd set for himself. He could see the same conflict in Y/N's eyes, and it only intensified the pull he felt toward her.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. "I should let you get back to work," she said, stepping back slightly, though her eyes lingered on his.

Harry nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “I was thinking of taking a break and going for a swim. Do you want to come?”

She gave him a small, smile. “Yeah”.

They both made their way out of the studio and down the path towards the private beach. The sun was burning hot as it neared lunch hours, and the air was filled with the sounds of seagulls and the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. The crew was starting to prepare the table for lunch, setting out plates and utensils under the shade of a large umbrella.

As they walked, the soft sand crunching beneath their feet, Harry stole glances at Y/N. She looked radiant in her bikini, her skin glowing under the sunlight. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

They waded into the water together, the cool waves lapping at their legs. Harry couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as they moved deeper into the ocean, the water enveloping them in its refreshing embrace. The sun glinted off the surface, creating a dazzling display of light and color.

As they swam, Harry found himself drawn to Y/N, their laughter and playful splashes creating a sense of intimacy and connection. They floated on their backs, gazing up at the clear blue sky, the worries and tensions of the world seeming to melt away.

"I think my face is getting burned," Y/N said as she stood up near the shore, the water lapping at her waist. Harry swam over to her, concern in his eyes. He stood up beside her, leaning in to check on her more closely.

"Let me see," he said softly, his voice full of genuine concern. As he leaned closer, his eyes scanned her face and cheeks, which were definitely flushed from the sun. The close proximity made Y/N's heart race, but she couldn't help staring at his lips, her breath hitching slightly.

Harry noticed her gaze, and his heart pounded in response. He could see the nervous anticipation in her eyes, and it was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, deliberately, he closed the gap between them, his eyes locking onto hers.

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. "Harry," she replied, her voice trembling slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gently cupped her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly against her sun-kissed skin. The world seemed to stand still as he leaned in, his lips finally meeting hers in a tender, lingering kiss.

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she responded, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but quickly grew more passionate as they both gave in to the emotions they'd been holding back. The warm ocean water swirled around them, adding to the sense of intimacy and connection.

Harry's hands wrapped around her waist as the waves nudged them deeper into the water. With the sea current interrupting their kiss, Harry lifted her off the ground. Y/N instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on tightly.

Their lips met again with renewed passion, the sensation heightened by the cool water surrounding them. Harry's grip on her tightened, anchoring her against him as the waves swayed them gently. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss.

Harry kisses her again but the softness if gone and now there is a sense of urgency. Y/N lips moved to his jaw and then to the side of his neck. Harry hand coming to grip her jaw to stop her.

“Are you sure?” He asked, not wanting to take advantage of her. She was younger and with less experience than him. The last thing he wanted to do was to pressure her into having sex. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t want”

“I want to” Harry didn’t question her any further. Perhaps because of his own selfish reasons. He untied her top and released her breasts, he tend to them, putting one of them in his mouth as his other hand massaged the other. He bit her softly, earning a whine from her.

“Harry” she moaned as she watched him devour her breasts. His hot mouth against her cold skin was a different sensation. Y/N was surprised that she had deliberately agreed to have sex at the beach, in the ocean. However, the desire was too intense to make it back to the house.

Y/N’s feet started pushing his swimming trunks off his body wanting to feel and see him.

“This is wrong” Harry said as he started to make his way out of the water and towards the shore with her still wrapped around him.

“So wrong” Y/N said as he laid her down on damp sand. Harry’s hand went to her sides and untied the sides of her bikini. Something had taken over him. He was ravenous for her.

“Spread your legs baby. Wider” His face was quickly buried between her legs.

“What if someone see us?” She asked though it quickly converted into a moan as Harry pressed his tongue on her, his nose brushing her clit. Harry hummed at the taste of her, she still tasted salty from the ocean water.

“Just like I imagined it” His finger drawing circles over her clit as he continued licking her and sucking her sensitive folds. “Don’t cum yet. I want to be in you when you do” he warned, his English accent raspier that usual.

“Then fuck me” Y/N begged, to which almost made Harry cum in his swimming trunks. It was such a stark contrast from who had arrived a few days ago. His hands frantically pulled down his swimming trunks. Harry’s head teased her entrance for a second before he sunk into her. He filled her up completely and for a second Y/N was worried that she wouldn’t be able to take it.

“God” She whined, throwing her head back, her hair getting covered with sand. Harry stayed still as he allowed her to adjust. He also needed a second at the newfound sensation.

“Fuck” he groaned as he pulled out of her and back into her. Her wet walls around him clenched up, as she looked at him drunken eyes. “You are so tight”.

She was overheated. The sun, the hot sand, and the way he looked at her as he pounded into her was too much. They were starting to get sticky. Harry hands gripped her hips, helping him to keep the constant pace.

“Cum f’me” he exhaled between thrusts as he felt her clench around him. Harry watched her come undone as she whimpered his name over and over again. Harry followed right after her before dropping right beside her.

Y/N looked over at him as they both tried to recuperate after their orgasms. She could see his skin covered with sweat and salt from the ocean and he still managed to look incredibly attractive.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy” He said with a smirk with his eyes still closed.

She didn't feel an ounce of regret...yet.

part 3 | sneak peek

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loveinhawkins · 2 years ago

Text

Steve gets the idea from Dustin and Robin, in a roundabout way: Robin insists on buying a camping stove from The War Zone, which Dustin pounces upon with glee as soon as he notices it.

“Oh, we’re cooking with gas now,” he says, which is the worst pun Steve has heard thus far.

Eddie snorts, almost but not quite hidden underneath the sound of the engine. Steve smiles.

“Y’know there’s a stove right here?” he asks in benign exasperation, gestures behind him to the little kitchen area of the RV.

“Steve,” Robin says, “that’s not as fun.”

“Yeah, come on, Steve! It’ll be like at Camp Know Where—”

“Know Nothing,” Steve mutters automatically.

“—we oft dined al fresco.”

“Oft,” Eddie parrots, and Steve can faintly feel the movement of him laughing, from where he’s pressed up against the back of the driver’s seat. “Al fresco. Henderson, what lab did they make you in?”

“Eddie, either shut up or back me up, I wanna get a culturally enriching experience outta this.”

“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realise this was a field trip.”

“You’re excused.”

“Okay,” Steve cuts in, “have fun playing at camping, Henderson, but don’t come crying to me if you, like, blow yourself up.”

Robin chuckles. “Such a happy camper.”

“Boo,” Steve says flatly.

He parks the RV a little bit away from a store just off the main road—heads in alone as it’ll draw less attention. Out loud, he says it’s so he can focus without hearing whining pleas to buy junk food, whether Dustin-approved or not, but he already knows he’ll cater to each and every one of the group’s demands.

Eddie, surprisingly, doesn’t put in a request, says he’s happy to just go along with whatever everyone else wants—a far cry from when Nancy had relayed, with more amusement than frustration, “He said he wants a six-pack.”

Steve figures that the whole being wanted for murder thing would kill anyone’s appetite, but it still makes his stomach sink, that the most substantial meal Eddie’s gotten a chance to eat has been lukewarm Spaghettios.

They set up ‘camp’ in a field, and Robin’s the first to rush outside, shortly followed by Dustin, both intent on using the stove she’s bought.

Steve leaves them all to it, kind of enjoys the temporary peace of just messing about in the RV on his own—it gives him enough time to find where some crockery is kept, anyway.

He’s heating up chicken noodle soup on the stove when Eddie comes back in and tells him, “They got it working, no explosions yet.”

“Oh, miracles can happen. Good timing, by the way.” Steve switches the burner off, pours the soup into a bowl and sets it down on the table—where he’s already laid out a spoon. “Yours is ready.”

At first he doesn’t think the silence is all that unusual. He’s not really looking either, focusing on rinsing out the pan he’d used. But when he does glance up, it’s to see Eddie just standing there, looking at the bowl of soup and blinking rapidly.

It’s almost like… almost like he’s—

“Woah, hey,” Steve says, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Eddie says, even though he’s still quite clearly tearing up. “Absolutely nothing. Jesus Christ.” He groans, presses a couple of fingers to the inner corner of his eyes. “This is fucking mortifying, just pretend you didn’t—ugh.”

In barely a blink, he shuts himself away in the bathroom.

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again. “Hate soup that much, huh?”

A watery laugh from behind the door. “No.”

There’s a silence. Steve dries the pan and puts it away before calling, “It’s gonna get cold!”

It won’t for a while yet; he can still see tendrils of steam rising from the bowl.

There’s a long, drawn out sigh, and then Eddie opens the door, sidles in to take a seat at the table.

For a moment, Steve thinks he isn’t going to acknowledge it, which is fine. But as Eddie picks up the spoon he says, head down, “It’s just. That was, uh. Really—really nice.”

Steve’s concern abates a little; he can’t help giving a slight smirk. “Would it help if I was mean instead?”

Eddie laughs again, no tears in it this time. He shrugs with a grin. “Do whatever you want, man.”

He’s eating slowly, his spoon dragging through the soup. His eyes seem distant.

“It’s just… I miss—” His voice threatens to break, but doesn’t quite get there. “I miss… home.”

Before Steve can think of a reasonable reply, Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes. He drops the spoon with a clatter. “God, that sounds so—”

“It doesn’t,” Steve interrupts.

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie picks up the spoon again, keeps scraping it against the bottom of the bowl.

“Dude, what did I tell you? You’ve gotta give yourself a break.”

Steve pauses, stuck on what to say next.

He can’t even relate, honestly. Home has long become something he couldn’t… Something he couldn’t really miss, exactly.

It’s ever-changing: the luxury of eating a late breakfast in History; the crunch of leaves underfoot as he walked the railroad tracks with Dustin; the chill of the freezer in Scoops Ahoy, Robin’s snorting laugh bouncing off the walls.

Now it’s his car radio playing as he gives rides on busy school mornings. A high school basketball game. A goddamn video store.

“I think you have this thing,” Steve says slowly.

“A promising start,” Eddie says, lips twitching.

He’s finished the soup. The sight spurs Steve on.

“I think you have this thing,” he repeats, more confidently, “where you think that, like, we’re seasoned monster-killers, and you’re—”

“Uh, speaking objectively, Harrington, that’s kinda what you are.”

“My point is,” Steve says, “that you don’t need to—shit, I don’t know, man. Just. You don’t need to apologise or whatever. You’re doing fine.”

Eddie blinks. He’s cupping the empty bowl with his hands, breathing a little deeper, like the residual warmth is calming.

And that Steve can relate to: in the days after Starcourt, when Robin pretty much dragged him to her house, empty thanks to her folks visiting extended family. They both pretended that they just wanted to stay up late because they could, because they were just teenagers enjoying the summer, and Robin had made shitty hot chocolate from a powder, heating up milk on the stove; when Steve complained that he could hardly enjoy it through a busted lip, she’d said, still jittery, “I just thought—it’s just nice to hold, y’know?”

She was right.

One of Eddie’s fingers starts tapping against the bowl, the underside of his ring making a series of restless clinks. Steve wants to still his hand, gently press it further into the warmth. Settle him.

Eddie stands up with the bowl.

“I can—”

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Eddie says, already at the sink. He turns on the faucet, smiles. “Thanks, by the way.”

It’s so simple, so domestic, and all of a sudden, Steve’s struck with a thought: oh, I want this.

“No problem. I’ll get you something better, after… um, everything.”

Eddie chuckles. “Oh, Jesus, I think I actually would kill for some fries.”

Steve clicks his fingers. “So we’ll make it happen.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I hate to break it to you, man, but as soon as they hear about free fries—” Steve jerks his head towards the chatter outside, “—they’re gonna demand to come with, they’re like piranhas.”

He expects Eddie to play up the joke, to groan and complain.

But while he does laugh, Eddie just sighs before saying in earnest, “That sounds fucking fantastic.”

And his eyes are warm and fond, like maybe he’s found another home in all of them, too.

#another ‘throwaway’ line from a previous ficlet wouldn’t let me go #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve and robin #steve and the party #eddie and the party #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months ago

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Already Gone {8} || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x spy!fem!reader Summary: After a record smashing 2023 season it seems to be about to repeat as 2024 begins. Warnings: 18+ only, violence, reader injury WC: 2.3k One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

The season had ended on a high with Max rightfully where he belonged. You had accompanied him to the FIA awards and cheered proudly as he accepted the winners trophy before jetting off to the Swiss Alps for a much needed break. Unfortunately work was never far away and all too soon it was time to make your grand entrance at the annual end of year Board of Directors meeting at the Scuderia Ferrari Headquarters.

The memory of the shocked faces when you walked into the meeting room and took the last chair around the table never ceased to make you smile. The brooch pinned to your Chanel suit jacket had recorded the moment of silence before chaos erupted while you reclined back in the chair to watch the men scramble for an answer.

Now it was time for the new season to begin.

Melbourne, Australia

It should have been a safe place. You had walked the perimeter three times just to check for any signs someone would be trying to get into the event. You hadn’t found any. Leaving the security team to their job, you returned to Max and accepted the cocktail he had ordered.

Australia was always a lively place for Red Bull as they gathered a range of their athletes across a dozen extreme sports and created some promo videos for the year. This year was no different with a party to kick off the week long trip down under and it was more than just the Red Bull family in attendance.

“What’s wrong, liefje?”

You shook away the lingering feeling that something was amiss and draped your arms around Max. “Nothing, baby, I’m just a little on edge.”

“I thought things were going well with the Board?”

You scanned the room for the current Ferrari drivers, and the future one, spotting them all in separate areas and deep in conversation. “They are, I haven’t been able to find anything planned yet but it doesn’t mean they won’t try something.”

“Relax,” he soothed as he kissed his way across your collar and up to your lips. “You can have the night off worrying. I want my girlfriend not my bodyguard.”

“Maybe if you stop winning all the time I will be able to relax,” you teased. “You’re just too damn fast, baby.”

Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he dipped his head to your ear. “I went slow last night, didn’t I? I think I got in trouble for that too the way you begged me to go faster.”

The witty retort you had to torture him with was lost as two men stumbled over their feet and knocked into Max. Unsure of their intentions you shoved them back and stepped in front of him protectively but all they could sum up were a few drunken expletives at your lack of hospitality. It was only going to get worse when you signalled for security to escort them off of the premises.

“It’s fine, liefje, I’m safe, we’re safe,” Max soothed as he rubbed your tense shoulders. “Have another drink with me.”

You turned to the bar and reached over the counter for two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka. “I don’t know how many more 1-2 finishes I can survive,” you admitted as you tapped his glass and downed your shot. You could feel the desperation growing with each Ferrari board meeting but it was the meetings that were happening in the shadows that concerned you more. The only reprieve was that Mercedes had started the season off poorly so it was one less team for them to worry about competing with. “I think we should hire more personal security for you and maybe Checo too now.”

“Do you know what I think? I think you worry too much.” Max laughed at the roll of your eyes in response.

“One of us has to be the responsible one.”

Max took your shot glass and the bottle of vodka, placing them on the bar top before taking your hand and giving it a small tug.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m being the responsible one and taking you back to the hotel,” he said with a grin. “A bottle of wine in the jacuzzi with you is much safer.”

There were plenty of drivers parked outside the venue for when guests wanted to leave and the valet waved one forward. Plastic barriers kept fans back, photographers snapped shots for the newspapers and police lined the entrance for anyone that grew too bold. You scanned both sides of the tiled floor for anything out of place and shifted as you saw a flash catch the glint of metal.

When the gunshot rang out, your first thought was of Max. He had only been a few feet behind you, but with the crowd that had gathered in the hopes to get an autograph you had lost sight of him. Had he been hit? Had he ducked along with everyone else? You dared a glance over your shoulder and found he had been quickly covered by the policemen while the man you had spotted tried to make his escape.

Max’s leather jacket billowed at your sides as you sprinted after the shooter and you heard his voice over the screams of panic, he was calling you back, but there was no way you were letting the man get away. You made it two blocks before he dove into the back seat of a black sedan and fired off a few wild shots as it shot away from the curb.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you dialled Max’s head of security and it picked up on the first ring. “1NF 2DU, Toyota Caldina,” you panted as you leaned against a building and watched the car disappear around the corner. “Male, early 30’s, brown hair, and fucking short. 9mm Beretta Nano.”

“Got it,” Harry noted before the phone was jostled. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

You looked down at the tear in his jacket and pulled it aside to see blood soaking your blouse beneath. You closed your eyes as the burning spread to your lungs and your panting grew more laboured. “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, they won’t let me leave,” he growled the last part at Harry who was holding him back from chasing after you.

“Good…that’s good…you’re good,” you sighed in relief and slid down the brick wall. “I love you, Max.”

You heard what could only be described as a roar of pain before the line died and you were left looking at the background image on your phone. You had never been happier than that moment of waking up in Max’s arms on a lazy Sunday before the season began, your head on his bare chest and Achilles curled up on your feet with Jimmy and Sassy. The daily stresses of life hadn’t begun to claw itself to the forefront of your mind and nothing existed outside of those four walls.

As a teenager you lived life a day at a time, not caring if it was the last one because you had never had something to look forward to. Now, the longer you stared at that photo, determination grew stronger than the pain in your chest and you cut your palms on the brick as you pulled yourself to your feet.

“Liefje! Y/N!” Max’s voice carried above the sound of sirens and you tried to call back to him but only a hacking cough sawed through your lungs and your vision dimmed. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

Your steps faltered as you followed his voice and when your legs collapsed beneath you his strong arms were there to catch you.

Max thought about just going to the car but there was a young boy holding out a cap and he couldn’t leave the little guy disappointed. He looked up to tell you he would just be a moment when he saw you shift suddenly, then the gunshot rang out. Everything moved so quickly as bodies surrounded him and the crowds screamed in the chaos, and he lost sight of you making chase down the street.

“Max, stay down, we’ll get you out of here,” Harry stated calmly as he pulled Max away from the policemen.

“I’m not going anywhere without Y/N.”

“These are her orders, shh,” Harry growled as he saw your contact calling and answered in an instant, listening intently. “Got it.”

Max snatched the phone from Harry before he could hang up. “Schatje, where are you? Are you alright?”

The pause was long enough for him to hear his heartbeat in his ears and when you finally answered your voice didn’t sound quite right, “I’m fine, baby, are you okay?”

Max looked at Harry who was using his muscle mass to build a wall between him and the street you had run down. “I’m fine, they won’t let me leave.”

“Good…that’s good…you’re good.” Your voice was growing quieter as he grew more agitated. “I love you, Max.”

Max looked at the floor where he had last seen you and noticed the darkened spot of blood stains that led away from him. Strength he had never known flooded through him and not even Harry’s arms that were as thick as Max’s thighs could hold him back. His trousers threatened to rip from the long strides and the quick pace of Max’s sprint and he screamed for you, praying for an answer as he followed the blood drops down the street.

Max knew there were people following him as he ran to the silhouette he innately knew was you. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?”

“On its way.”

The street lights illuminated the pain etched in your face when you tried to walk to him but your legs collapsed. “I’ve got you, liefje, I’ve got you,” Max promised as he felt his hands grow slick with the blood leaking out of your side. “I’m not letting you go.”

Max could count on his hand the number of times he had felt true fear. He remembered the way his mother cried when she had him down to tell him she was leaving and how she wished she could take him too. He could remember the sound Achilles made when the neighbours dog escaped their property and chased him. He would always remember the look in your eyes before they closed.

For three days Max sat at your side, only moving from the room when you were wheeled away for scans and tests. Christian stopped by each night for an update that hadn’t changed and flowers arrived from the Board but Max dumped them straight in the bin, but other than that the room was empty and quiet.

Max knew he wasn’t liked by a lot of people but he never really believed that his life had become a target. You loved that he was still naive to the dark side of the sport and you happily became the shield that protected him from the innocence that had long been stolen from yourself. It was why you put yourself into the trajectory of the bullet meant for him.

Max could still see the footage that Harry had found from the lobby cameras. He had nearly thrown the laptop across the room where he waited for you to come out of surgery. That minute shift, the smallest of movements, had saved him - but at what cost?

“I found a little house,” Max said quietly as he held your hand. “It has an orchard and plenty of space for our babies, and no city around for miles. It needs some things fixed up before we could live there, but it sounds like a good place to retire.” He closed his eyes and lay back in the uncomfortable chair, your hand still resting in his so he could feel for any sign of life.

“I didn’t die just for you to retire now,” you rasped, your throat dry and voice hoarse.

Max was on his feet in an instant, capturing your face delicately as he kissed you with a sound that was some cross between a sigh of relief and a joyous laugh. “You didn’t die, liefje, I couldn’t have survived that.”

“I’m pretty sure I met the devil,” you groaned as you tried to sit up, “he spoke Italian.”

“That’s just Benedetto,” Max said with a flat laugh, placing a hand on your shoulder to stop you moving while the other pressed the call button. “You need to keep still.”

You weren’t impressed by the intrusion of the doctors and nurses who came flooding in and after answering dozens of pointless questions, because yes you were in pain after being shot, they finally left again.

“They’re just doing their job,” Max murmured as he found space on the bed to sidle in with you. He carefully shifted you so that he could lay his arm out before tucking you in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Let them prod and poke you until they are satisfied you are completely healthy again.”

“I just want to go home-hey! Why aren’t you at the track?”

“Did you seriously think I would leave you?” Max shook his head at the idea and kissed your forehead. “You risked your life to save mine, I know exactly where I want to be.”

The stitched in your side stretched as you craned your head back so he could reach your lips. You had thought there would never be another kiss so you were going to savour the feeling that came with it. “I love you, Max.”

“Ik hou van jou.”

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #max verstappen x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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levi501ackerman · 9 months ago

Text

Object of Affection | Levi x Reader Fluff

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Summary: Some may think Levi is whipped or your servant. But acts of service is how Levi shows his love

Word Count: 1.9k

Megans's Note: song correlated: Ridin' by ASAP Rocky ft. Lana Del Rey. btw whenever I say song correlated I dont mean it with the intention to offer to listen to it while reading. It was just the song that inspired the idea or that was on loop while writing. posted: 4/18/24. I'm really glad AOT has sparked me to write again. I need more practice lol. Enjoy.

Eren, Jean, and Armin were the first of your friends to be sitting at breakfast in the dining hall. Sasha was in one of the lines to get food. It was a sunny day and a few ODM drills were available for whoever wanted the practice. Some other classes were going on as well. It was a general casual day for the scouts. For some scout units, there was food preparation for future expeditions, but for you and your friends, you did not have much on the agenda.

“I think I’m going to do some drills today,” Eren said. “Are you going to join us?” He asked Armin who usually went to Erwin’s office.

“Yeah, I can. I finished the little project with Commander Erwin.” He said then took a bite of his bread. Sasha hurried to the table to sit down. Her plate had a bigger portion than everyone else at the table. “It is a nice day outside too.”

More people started entering the dining area. The morning crowd of scouts was starting to pick up. Jean noticed you and Levi walked through the door.

“Y/N’s coming. Maybe she’ll practice with us,” Jean said. The table noticed Levi say something to you and then you smiled and started going towards them.

“I don’t know she’s been spending a lot of time with Hange and Moblit doing research and testing theories,” Eren said.

“Morning guys!” Sasha brightly greeted the table. The line for breakfast was moving a little slower with the incoming scouts. Everyone acknowledged Sasha.

“Sasha, are you going to do drills today? We’re all going to.” Armin asked invitingly.

“Yeah, and I think Y/N was thinking about it too,” Sasha said. You approached the table and smiled at your friends.

“Are you not going to eat?” Jean asked.

“Levi’s getting my food.” You said. They look over to see Levi's arms crossed standing in line with the scouts.

“Why don’t you get your food yourself?” Eren asked

“Levi knows I don’t like standing in lines so he just said he’ll start getting my food.” You said. Jean and Eren laughed.

“Wow if only I could have the captain serve me food.” Jean joked and you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face.

“He’s not serving me, he just knows I don’t like standing in lines so he offered to get my food from now on.”

“What if he gets you the wrong food?” Eren asked.

“Well Levi knows what I like,” you said.

“We’re going to do drills today, you should come,” Armin said. Most of your free time has been spent with Hange and Moblit. You looked up to Hange and she liked you. You enjoyed working with her and in general learning more about the titans.

“Yeah, I’ll come.” You said and your friends were elated you were joining them. “Ugh wait! I forgot my belt and some straps in my room.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s such a nice day out for drills too. Hopefully, it won’t get hotter.”

A few minutes later, Levi put a plate of breakfast in front of you. He softly smiled.

“Do you want water or tea?” Levi asked.

“Water please.” You said and then he walked away.

“Yeah sounds like a server to me,” Jean said.

“Stop it, Jean. He’s not serving me. When you get a girlfriend you’ll understand that you’ll want to help her and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” You said back.

“I feel sorry for whoever decides to date you, Jean,” Sasha said with a full mouth and you both giggled.

“Whatever I am a catch,” Jean said. Levi came back with water for you and some tea for himself.

“I have a meeting I’m going to go to now,” Levi said to you. The table greeted Captain Levi and he acknowledged them normally.

“I’m going to do drills today with my friends.” You said to him.

“Nice weather for that today.”

“Yeah, but, I left my belt in my room—”

“I can go get it.” Levi offered.

“Thank you that would be really helpful.” You said and he left for his meeting.

“Y/N’s has him whipped,” Jean said.

Truly you did. Levi wanted to help you in any way he could. On the last expedition, he made sure you had your own food to take of yourself. Levi always triple-checked that your gear was in top shape. If you mentioned something was sore, he would offer his best to massage you. If you mentioned anything that inconvenienced you he would do his best to find a way to fix it for you. You once mentioned that the drawer to your nightstand kept getting stuck halfway when pulling it out and you would have to tug hard to get it to keep pulling out. Later that day he took apart your nightstand to fix the sliding drawer. All of a sudden it was working and you didn’t think about it anymore. You didn’t even know Levi fixed it until a week later.

Once, when you and Levi passed by a stationary shop, you mentioned how you have been journaling since you were young. You had eight journals and mentioned a slight fear that they would end up getting damaged or burned in a fire. You treasured your journals that were filled with your memories. He later got you a small perfect-sized fire box that you could keep your journals safe in.

You and Sasha met up with Mikasa and decided to be grouped for the drills. It was getting a little warmer than expected. But there was still a slight breeze. You three started stretching and getting your gear together. Then you noticed Levi walking up to you with the belt and straps you needed.

“I got the belt you needed,” Levi said and your heart fluttered. It was so sweet how helpful he’s always been.

“Thank you,” You said.

“You look really pretty,” He said and you blushed a little.

“I’m about to get really sweaty.” You laughed.

“It’s starting to get hotter.” He said squinting and looking up at the sky. “Show the dummy titans no mercy.” He said and you smiled while watching him walk off.

“You two are so freaking cute!” Sasha said making you blush more. “I’m so excited for when I get a boyfriend and we can go on double dates!” That did excite you and you smiled.

“I can’t wait to meet the guy who deserves you.” You said while putting on your belt and straps. “A guy that’s sweet.”

“I think you need someone who loves meat just as much as you do,” Mikasa said. “Or someone who can cook—” Sasha squealed.

“Oh my god that would be perfect!”

“That would be the perfect guy for you,” you said.

“You guys want to compete for the most kills?” Jean called out in the distance. Connie was now with him, Eren, and Armin.

“Mikasa is going to win! Back out now while you can!” You yelled back. The drills began. “Mikasa you should give him a head start!” You said and Sasha laughed. Though it was spring and getting greener outside the temperature got hot while everyone was doing drills. It was an unexpected rise. You pulled at your shirt trying to get ventilation whenever you had the time to do so. The heat made everyone work harder because flying in the air gave everyone a slight breeze. After the drills, everyone was sweating. It was a good workout but people were getting tired quicker because of the heat. When walking back to your stuff Sasha was giving Jean crap about Mikasa beating him. It wasn’t a surprise but the competition did make Jean work harder. Jean was a great scout and even gave you some helpful pointers with the ODM gear. Out of everyone doing the drills, he got the second-highest kill count right behind Mikasa. As you approached your stuff you noticed three water bottles that were perspiring because of the heat.

“Is this not where we put our stuff?” Sasha asked. But then she saw her bag and Mikasa saw her stuff.

“Whose water bottles are these?” Mikasa asked. You noticed the drenched little note under the water bottle closest to your stuff. The note read: I noticed you guys didn’t have water. Stay hydrated.

“They’re from Levi. He got us water because he saw we didn’t have any.” You said and Sasha started chugging hers.

“That’s considerate of him,” Mikasa said and the three of you started chugging the cold water.

“Thanks, Levi it hit the spot!” Sasha said and crinkled her empty bottle.

“I need to change, I’m so sweaty and probably smell bad.” You said. Many scouts who did drills all had the same idea to take cold rinse-off showers. No one was expecting a spike in the temperature. When you got back to your room with Sasha. You noticed another water bottle and a note near your bed. It was from Levi again. Come to my office for dinner. You smiled and told Sasha. Your heart fluttered because he was so sweet and no one else saw this side of him. He used to be so shy in front of you and you used to think he didn’t like you. Levi would be his normal self to everyone but then he would be quiet in front of you. It made you feel insecure until Hange exposed Levi. She and Moblit told you that Levi talked a lot about you and wanted to get to know you. Hange may have been the one to tell you that Levi thought you were pretty. Which gave you the confidence to approach him.

In the evening you went to Levi’s room, and you were ready for some alone time. When you knocked on the door, Levi opened it pretty quickly. He shut the door behind you and embraced you in a big hug. He smelled nice and then you noticed the smell of his office.

“Sit down I made us some soup.” He said. “I saw they had that bean mixture you don’t like for dinner.” Your heart fluttered and the soup smelled good. The smell made you hungrier than you were before. “I got some bread and mashed potatoes though to fill you up more. You need the energy from being outside most of the day.” He said.

“Thank you, Levi,” You said grateful for how thoughtful he is. It was so nice how much he tried to help you or thought of ways to make your life easier.

“Anything for you, Y/N,” He said and you two began eating. The soup was satisfying and Levi getting bread for it was a good idea. Honestly, Levi did a lot for you because he cared for you so much. He had little to no dating experience before you and he did not want to do anything to make you feel like he didn’t respect you. Levi has always been considerate of you since you started getting close and dating. He would listen you to and remember little things about you. You felt cared for and though you and Levi haven’t told one another that you loved each other. You already knew.

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 10 months ago

Text

Series Masterlist

Chapter 19

Warnings: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SA/R*PE; Dead dove don’t eat; typical TWD violence and gore; physical violence (both man on woman & woman on man); flashbacks containing body/genital mutilation

A/N: This is a heavy, heavy chapter. Please consider the warnings before reading. It’s imperative to the story so if you need a different version with the details removed, please message me.

The floor was cold. Though the weather had been mild the day you left the prison, the concrete beneath you was achingly cold. You were still barefoot and in your pajamas, the chill easily creeping past the fabric to settle in your very bones.

The tray Millie had left was untouched, save for the emptied bottle of water. It wasn’t that you weren’t hungry, you were famished. The blonde had said the food was from Philip. Had it been from Jazz, such a meal would certainly have been poisoned. This Governor, you knew nothing of him, only that he wanted information on the prison. You had taken a risk with the water.

When the door opened, you sat up quickly and pressed your back against the wall, eyes narrowing at Todd in the doorway. The man scowled.

“Get up. The Governor wants to see you.” You didn’t move. In just two long strides, he towered over you with his fists trembling. “Give me a reason. Just one.”

“You never needed a reason before.” You retorted calmly, keeping your back flat against the cold stone as you stood. With a growl, he snatched your arm with a grip that would surely bruise, dragging you toward and out the door.��

The hallway beyond was littered with windows that bathed the cold concrete in warm light. You couldn’t resist closing your eyes and relishing the welcomed heat. It didn’t last long, Todd jerking you forward even as you walked in step with him.

The place was a maze of halls and doors that you couldn’t possibly hope to memorize. I’ll damn sure try. Turning another corner, a door was open, the wall lined with three barrels and a generator in the middle. You stowed that information away, it could be useful.

Another long hallway, doors on each side and one at the end, larger than the others. You were led (dragged) to that particular entryway, Todd holding you in place while he knocked, loud and impatiently.

“Come.” A cool voice sounded from the other side. The door was opened and you were shoved inside, Todd not following. He sneered at you when you glanced back as the door closed. The room was the apocalyptic equivalent of elegant, unlike the areas you had seen on the trek to it. Rugs, dirty but their patterns clear enough. Various artwork littered the walls. A simple desk sat in the middle. A smaller room connected with an en suite that you suspected might even work and a two seater table.

At the desk sat Philip, his fingers steeled just in front of his chin.

“I thought you could use a break from the cell.” You held his gaze, every instinct telling you to run. Where would you go? They weren’t stupid. Todd was right outside. “What’s your name?”

“Why am I here?” You snapped, curling your lip at his impassiveness. “Why did you stop Jazz?”

He shrugged, the calm air surrounding him more intimidating than any of the men you had encountered under the club owner’s thumb. “Simple. You’re of more use to me alive.”

“I won’t tell you anything.” You challenged, squaring your shoulders. The man chuckled.

“Is that so?” He stood and rounded the desk, leaning back on it with his hands gently gripping the edge. “Rick and I have unfinished business. I’ve been informed that his guard dog has taken a liking to you.”

His name is Daryl. You couldn’t tell him that. The less he knew, the better. “They helped me, taught me how to survive. I was going to leave. That was the understanding but Jazz came before I could go.” Lie. You had no intention of ever leaving. The group had welcomed you with open arms. They had suffered with you through your struggles, never judging. You would have stayed as long as they allowed. As long as Daryl wanted you there.

“You’re a spunky little thing. I like that.” He pushed himself away from the desk and crossed into the smaller room, gesturing to one of the seats at the table. You hadn’t noticed the two plates and glasses of what appeared to be orange juice.

“What the hell’s this supposed to be?” You refused to move, pinning the man with an acidic glare. Your fists clenched at your sides when he smiled coolly.

“It’s breakfast.” His tone was so flippant, bordering on mocking.

“You think you can get me to roll over on my family with some eggs and bacon?” Each syllable was dripping with venom, verbalizing every ounce of bitter resentment you were being forced to contain. “Fuck you.”

“You’ve got me all wrong. I just want to treat you to a decent meal. Then maybe a more comfortable room.” He took his own seat and picked up the juice. “Have a seat.”

“You can’t—”

“Have. A. Seat.” He was no longer smiling, something sinister darkening his remaining eye. You flinched, unable to stop yourself. The gentle, polite man he had been parading around was gone, his true colors casting a shadow over the room. There was no other choice but to indulge him. Moving cautiously, you never looked away from him, even as you pulled out the chair and slowly sank down. “There. That’s better, isn’t it?” He gave you no time to answer. “Eat.”

You kept your eyes on him, equal parts terrified and infuriated. After a decent forkful from his own plate, he met your gaze, clearly daring you to force him to tell you again. Your hands trembled from fear and hunger, making it nearly impossible to keep anything on your utensil. The two of you ate in silence, three-fourths of your food remaining as he swallowed his last bite.

“Let’s try this again.” Philip sat back in his chair, watching you move around the items on your plate. If you ate anything more, you’d surely vomit. “What’s your name?”

Your gaze remained downcast, fear gripping you tightly in a way you hadn’t felt since before Daryl walked into that club. “Y/N.”

“Good girl.”

Your stomach rolled uncomfortably.

“I’ll be damned. Good girl.”

You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. You just knew it now, but those words from his lips still managed to make you feel nauseous. “Sorry.” You looked at your feet, feeling like you were back in that cage, back with those dirty men and their insatiable needs and—

His hand came into view, two fingers tapping softly against your chin. You didn’t want to look at him, see the disappointment certainly awaiting you, but you weren’t in the club anymore. You were safe. You looked up.

He looked nothing short of stricken, blue eyes filled with remorse and concern. “Shouldn’a said it like that.” His hand fell away from you. “Meant it as…well, uh, m’ proud’a ya.”

“Thank you, Daryl.”

Your chin wobbled with the effort of holding yourself together. Philip was watching you intently, something just shy of satisfaction in his smile.

“Here’s how this is going to go, Y/N.” You were shaking harder now, tracking every move he made once he had stood and began to walk into the other room, stopping by the window to gaze outside with his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m going to ask you questions. And each time you refuse to answer, I will allow my men to attempt to loosen those pretty lips.”

Daryl awoke with a groan, still sprawled out in the back of the van he’d staggered into the night before. He still felt groggy, disconnected. It was as if he was watching his body move as an outsider, just a spectator to the clumsy motions. Fetching the canteen from his bag proved to be arduous, unscrewing the cap even more so. His shoulder felt hot, the infinitesimal abrading of his shirt and vest near torturous.

He drank deeply, unskillfully replacing the cap before gingerly removing his vest. The leather was stuffed into his bag as if it were personally offensive. Sitting back against the cool metal of the van’s interior, he began to calculate his next move. He had to be at least ten miles from the prison. It was doubtful the new ‘club’ would be within such direct proximity but it was possible that his family could find him here. He had forced their hand. Even he had to admit that it would be easier with their help at that point. He had no tracks to follow, no indication of a direction.

He was beginning to lose hope.

His head was hanging when he heard it. Voices. Close. It wasn’t any of his. He knew his people, from their tone to their gait. Muscles coiled, ready to fight, he waited and listened. Two. He could handle two, even with the injury. He moved with them as they walked the length of the van, one stopping by the driver’s side door while the other appeared to round the front.

Knife out, Daryl laid flat behind the bench seat, listening as the doors opened and the vehicle moved with the new weight.

“Don’t know why Jazz has us scouting for new girls every goddamn day. There’s already six there. We should be searching for people willing to pay; finding the old customers.”

“Man, he ain’t thinking straight. Ever since he found his favorite toy at that prison, he’s been a loose cannon. Can’t even really consider him the boss anymore.”

The hunter’s teeth worried his bottom lip, pressing indents into the flesh until slick copper filled his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t believe he tracked that bitch down. Did you ever get a piece of that before Jazz sold her off?”

“Oh, yeah. Still had fresh cuts from Todd too. Bled like a stuck pig but she was dry as a bone. Made things easier.”

“I fucked her too. Twice. Jazz let me have her a second time when I brought those two bitches and a shit ton of ammo back from Peachtree City. Had to smack her around to get any noise out of her though.”

Daryl felt bile creeping up his throat, burning his insides and leaving a taste he’d need at least three cigarettes to chase away. These men were useful and, rather than face any other grim details of your abuse, he sprang and sank his knife into the temple of the man in the passenger seat. The driver’s hand went for his gun holster but the archer was faster, pressing the cold steel against the man’s throat hard enough for a thin line of blood to color the blade.

“Don’t be stupid.” He hissed, sorely tempted to drag the weapon anyway and open a fatal wound just for the satisfaction of watching the bastard bleed out. “Toss the gun on the floor over there.” Compliance came quickly with the understanding that Daryl could kill him before he could fire a single shot. “Hands on the wheel.”

“Whaddaya want, man?” The man’s knuckles turned white from his grip, a fine tremor vibrating his body that shook Daryl’s hand.

“Tell me where the new spot is.”

“They’ll kill me if I do.” The lackey reasoned, his voice wobbling.

“I’ll kill ya if ya don’t.” The hunter’s tone was low and deep, his threat one that he was barely able to resist carrying out even without the information he desperately needed. “Better yet,” the knife disappeared from the bloody skin, a gun roughly pressed against the man’s head. “You’re gonna show me.”

You had tried to prepare yourself as best you could. Answering questions about the prison, about Rick and Daryl specifically, was never an option. Even when the Governor’s large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter with each refusal, you didn’t break.

Sitting in the room they had thrown you into, you counted your breaths and listened to the movements outside the door. Two girls had been sent in to dress you and you had intimidated them, sending them scrambling from the room.

They would have been more gentle than Todd but you could not afford to show any form of fragility. You would not be broken or otherwise persuaded. The prison community had stood up for you, and it was your turn to stand up for them.

Todd had taken the opportunity to strike you, twice in the face and once in the ribs. It was a futile endeavor from the start. In the end, you wore the clothes they had demanded: a three piece combination of white lace and sheer, garter belt straps tugging upwards on the thigh-highs. The bustier was tight, at least one size too small. It was probably intentional, both to exaggerate your cleavage and just to make you uncomfortable. Todd had made a valiant attempt to add a pair of heels to the ensemble but quickly dismissed the idea when you used one as a weapon against his groin.

The area around the wound from the prison felt hot, deep blue and purple already coloring your cheek from Todd’s fist. The bustier squeezed your tender ribs. You prodded the area gently. Not broken.

Muffled voices sounded from the other side of the door. Two—No, more than two. You knew what was about to happen, forced yourself not to tremble, to hold back the vomit creeping up your throat. The door flew open, two men stepping inside and leering at you. Their eyes raked over your body, dark and hungry. There was no kindness to be seen.

“You’re a pretty one.” The man had to be in his sixties, what hair remained was gray, his face sunken and eyes bulging. The urge to pull away when he roughly grabbed your chin was instinctively trampled. They weren’t as rough if you did as you were told. His fingers were cold and textured, calloused tips scraping over your skin. “You want her mouth or her pussy.” He addressed the other man while still admiring you, pulling a gun from his belt and a condom from his pocket, the former taking up residence on the small bedside table.

At the very least, Jazz had rules that the Governor appeared to have still enforced. Condoms were required. Pleasuring the woman was never an issue or intention but dental dams were available in large number. They couldn’t risk spreading disease in the fine establishment.

“Well, since I’m already back here.” The hands that grabbed your hips weren’t gentle, not that you expected that from these types of men. Forced onto all fours, your satiny panties were moved aside. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck is this shit?!” It wasn’t what was about to happen to you that brought the tears to your eyes, that made the sting so unbearable that you were forced to let them fall. It was the reaction, always the reaction to your mutilated body. There had been no mention of the scars on your torso and back, even the ones on your buttocks and thighs were overlooked. They were seen as par for the course, you supposed. But the moment your most delicate areas were exposed to any man, the reaction was always the same.

His boot was crushing your sternum. It was nearly impossible to breathe. Too concerned with failed attempts to pull oxygen into your starving lungs, you couldn’t focus on the way Todd bent over you, the way he pressed his other boot atop your left inner thigh. His large hand held you open, more bruising to be seen on the right thigh.

“Don’t wanna do as you're told? Think this cunt’s too good for our clients?” You shook your head frantically, not sure what you were answering. Maybe you were trying to say you didn’t want to die beneath his boot heel. “Jazz wants to make sure you know your place.” The metallic hiss of a switchblade preceded the first agonizing drag up the length of your labia.

You couldn’t scream. Couldn’t make a sound as he carved into you, over and over. Your blood was warm as it seeped into your folds, down into the cleft of your ass. He made sure to allow the cold steel to taste that part of you too, careful not to tear either opening or hit any arteries.

“Maybe I should take your clit.” You could barely hear him, his voice garbled as if you were submerged. The weight disappeared and you desperately gasped, working toward enough oxygen to scream. The pain was unbearable, unlike anything any client had put you through before. “It still wouldn’t be enough for what you took from me. You’re fucking lucky Jazz wants everything to still function or I’d fuck this right into you until you bled to death.”

“Please— stop, please—hurts.”

“Good.” He hissed, dragging the knife over just above your slit. “Good.”

You could hear the man behind you opening a condom, see the one in front of you doing the same. God, you hated the taste, the texture. You’d vomited before and received a dislocated shoulder afterwards. Over time, you’d learned to deal, suck it up.

“Say ah, pretty girl.” The old man tapped his cock against your chin. He was small, a fact for which you were thankful. The condom’s excess was bunched and rolled at the bottom of his shaft. You would have laughed if not so certain it would cost you. When you tried for a deep breath to prepare yourself, the man behind you thrust into you, sheathing himself in one go. Your mouth fell open in discomfort only to be breached.

“She’s so fucking tight, goddamn.”

You closed your eyes, let your mind drift while they used you. They weren’t being too rough—yet—so it wasn’t difficult to allow yourself to take shelter in your memories. Before the prison, you had to find the darkest places, the wide cracks to hide you from the pain. It was different this time. You had experienced happiness and safety. You had shared smiles and laughter. You had a place to run even if only in your mind.

You were a spectator to the memory, watching everything unfold down to the last detail.

“We deserve this.” You looked like a child on a snow day, happily staying in bed with your favorite snack and your favorite person nearby.

You looked back on the scene fondly and wondered how there always seemed to be a bowl of berries for you.

Daryl snorted, still stretched out with his head on the pillow. You gave him a look and leaned down to nudge his shoulder with your elbow. “Don’t feel right, layin’ on my ass while ev’ryone else works.”

“Just enjoy it, okay?” You offered him a berry. He kept his arms folded behind his head and simply opened his mouth, smirking when you dropped the fruit from several inches above.

It could have been one of the best days of your life, the way the two of you teased one another and laughed. Daryl was so carefree that morning despite the events of the previous night. He was playful. He had chased you, lifted and spun you around. You could still feel his arms around your waist, the warmth of his hands as you tried to free yourself.

You replayed it all over and over, never allowing yourself to venture further to where it all went to shit.

“S’in there?” Daryl asked, motioning with the gun but never taking it far from the lackey’s head—Dom, he had learned. The man trembled but didn’t answer. Tired, dizzy, and aching, Daryl had little patience to spare. The barrel of the gun was pressed in again with enough force to bend his prisoner’s neck sideways.

“It’s the generator and—and the fuel. If you go in that door, take a—a—a left.”

“Women.” Daryl coerced with a rough shove. “Where they keep the women?” His eyes darted to the left where a row of vehicles sat, along with three red gasoline jugs.

“Man, he’s gonna kill me. I can’t—”

“Didja forget who’s holdin’ the fuckin’ gun to your head right now?” He spat.

“You have to—to go around front.” Dom’s hand was shaking violently, but he managed to point toward the left. “There’s two doors there. Use the green one, the long—uh, long hallway to the right and then the second left. They’re all kept in those rooms.”

“All of ‘em?”

“The new ones—those go in the holding rooms. There’s three. Take that first left when you go in. The first three doors.”

You would be there.

The archer’s vision swam. He knew he was running out of time. Without a word, he pulled his knife and plunged it into the top of the man’s head, shoving the body over upon the withdrawal. “Thanks, Dom.” He huffed, shoving the gun back into the holster. As far as he was concerned, any man in the building was an enemy. If he came across the women, he’d let them go unless they interfered. His priority was you.

Staying low, he crept through the overgrown grass, allowing it to conceal him on his path to the door. He could hear the generator once he was a few feet away, rumbling and clicking. Huh. Tellin’ the truth after all.

The door screeched as he pulled, louder than made him comfortable. “Fuck.” He was already moving at a snail’s pace, slowing even further to control the sound. With enough space to slip through, he peered inside, exhaling softly to find the hallway empty.

He needed a plan.

Halfway to the containers of gasoline, he took pause and lowered to one knee, the world tilting and spinning. His stomach ached with a nauseating hunger, the sensations in complete contradiction. The bullet wound was pulsing, irritated. There was a brief thought of infection but he didn’t dwell, there was no time.

Soon enough, he willed himself to continue.

Beginning at the edge of the building, he poured a line of fuel toward the generator door, cautious and vigilant. So far, he’d seen no one else. What if they were inside—with you? Hurting you? His expression grim, he pulled open the door just as carefully as the first time and, upon finding the hall clear, continued the trail up to the barrels.

He could only dare to hope that you would be in one of those holding cells, a safe distance from what was sure to both crumble that side of the building and lure the dead to infiltrate. He dropped the jug with care and exited, walking a surprisingly straight path toward the corner, stabbing a lone walker along the way.

He struck his zippo against his thigh and ignited the flame, burning the end of his cigarette. There was no time for a proper break so he savored two quick draws and began to walk away as he flicked the smoke into the gasoline, the doused grass catching easily.

He was already halfway to the green door when the first explosion rattled the old factory.

The ground trembled and you fell flat onto your front, both men scrambling to tuck themselves away and get to the door. You were aching, but more confused, watching the men move in a panicked frenzy. You were on your knees when the door opened, a man much smaller than Todd filling the doorway.

“We’re under attack!”

All you could do was blink when you found yourself alone and staring out into an unguarded hallway. With no time to waste, you grabbed the gun that had been left behind and tucked it into the side of your stockings.

The door was closed behind you, giving the impression you were still trapped.

You knew you wouldn’t remember the twisting maze. You could even be sure you weren’t heading toward the blast instead of approaching your opportunity at freedom. Men and women were moving around you, too frantic to even realize who you were. Maybe they did and simply didn’t care.

The females all seemed to move a certain direction, including Millie. There was recognition in her wide eyes when they fell on you, but she said nothing, lingered for a mere heartbeat before she pushed her way through the others. You fell in behind them, certain they were moving toward safety, whether that meant escape for them or not.

A door was pushed open, barely closing to snuff out the light from outside before another woman would exit. A way out. I can go home. Hope ignited deep in your chest, your pulse hammering. Once you made it through that door, you wouldn’t stop until the prison gates. Until you could see Daryl, safe and whole, running to intercept you. You could almost hear that gravelly voice reprimanding you for leaving without a fight, even as he drew you against him.

You were nearly there.

“I don’t think so!” A hand twisted in your hair, yanking against your scalp with such intense force that you felt skin tearing and warm with blood. Todd wasted no time, pinning you against the wall by your throat, your feet kicking fruitlessly. He struck you; one, two, three times, your mouth and nose smeared and torn and dripping. “I finally have a way to be rid of you. For my brother.” Bones ground in your neck under his ever tightening grip. He was going to kill you. You were going to die.

“Show me.” Daryl narrowed his eyes and waited you out, the wheels turning quickly in your head, flipping through the catalog of maneuvers he had demonstrated. His hold on your throat was gentle but firm. “Arm up.” You extended your left arm straight up against the wall. “Good. Angle your shoulder, grab my hands with that’un but bring down that arm on mine.” You did as instructed, almost moving before the words left his mouth. “Ya loosened the hold, now what?”

Gritting your teeth, you straightened your left arm and pushed your shoulder forward before slamming down on Todd’s forearms. The very second you felt the give around your neck, you drove your elbow into his face as many times as you could before he staggered back. Your feet found purchase during his stunned moment, the image of Daryl sprawled on the ground with a smirk on his face playing like an old movie just behind your eyes while you grabbed the man’s hair and pushed him down to meet your knee.

“Atta girl.”

Todd fell heavily, shaking his head to send crimson splatters across the wall. You were already moving, barreling toward the door, now closed after the women had all made their way out. Just as it flung open again, a bruising grip surrounded your ankle and brought you crashing down with your palms barely taking the brunt of the fall.

“You’re done for, bitch!” Todd roared. He was dragging you back to him while getting to his feet. You rolled onto your back and kicked at him wildly yet futilely. His smile was bloody. His hand was pulling the switchblade from the pocket of his jacket.

This was it.

I tried. I’m sorry.

The loud crack of a gunshot echoed against the stone walls, prompting a surprised shout from you. You covered your ears, wide eyes meeting Todd’s. The hole in the center of his forehead barely bled at first, a simple trickle down the bridge of his nose as he collapsed heavily to his knees and then to his front, never to rise again.

Todd was dead.

Your chest heaved, the sight of one of your violators growing cold at your feet was both a relief and a shock. The trembling was beyond your control. You were in a fog, suddenly lost and blank. The pain, the torture. He’d never touch you again and you just couldn’t process that it could be real. Until…

“Y/N.”

Eyes going impossibly wider, you rolled onto your stomach and sought out the door.

“Daryl.” It was only a whisper, that was all you could manage. The light from outside made him a shadow, a silhouette lowering his right arm with the gun still in his grasp. Your legs moved at the same time his did, but as yours kicked to push you upright, you couldn’t seem to gain traction. Growling at your ineptitude, you clambered to your knees. “Run.” You commanded your body out loud, a painful need that was driving you forward, to feel him and assure yourself he was real.

Somehow you met him in the middle, your arms wrapping around his neck. He staggered slightly, off balance when you locked your legs around his waist. He wrapped his left arm around your back with a grunt.

“You came for me. You came for me. You came for me.” You chanted against the right side of his neck, no longer caring about radiating strength and ability. A guttural sob shook you from the inside out, a noise so heart wrenching that it took a moment to realize it came from you.

“I gotcha. M’here.” You noticed that the archer was trembling just as fiercely, tightening his hold. He leaned his head against yours, nuzzling his cheek into your hair. “M’gonna take ya home.”

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eldritch-spouse · 4 months ago

Note

Eating at my own fingers for some Berle smut 😫😫😫

[Don't worry, he'll eat your fingers for you.]

TW: Foodplay; Dubious consent

Berle's steps echo around the inside of the manufacturing area.

" Lollipop! My sweet little gumdrop, my tootsie pie! "

Oh he wants something.

Finishing helping a fairly depleted chocolate flavor into a vat, you seal the exhausted slime in there and shiver as you come out of the frozen rooms, rubbing some warmth into your arms. It's crazy to think how much it must cost to keep this place so cool in the middle of literal Hell.

" Yes? "

" There you are! "

He announces, so close to the skin of your back that it nearly frightens the soul out of your body.

" Come come come- I need you to taste something immediately! "

That's half of your job nowadays. Running around taking note of which flavors are depleting, take them to the vats, and put a variety of sweet ice cream novelty flavors in your mouth. You're really hoping there's enough magic in these things to prevent you from getting cavities. Or maybe that's why he's always buying you "the best toothpaste out there for humans".

Part of you thinks sometimes Berle isn't even making you taste-test new flavors, he just wants to feed you. Which is fine by you, less time actually working.

You're dragged to the front of the shop, sort of. More like the area where people can choose to have independent scoops of ice cream from non-living samples. A sort of tasting booth, to make sure you don't just call a slime-cream to your table, taste them, only to make a face afterwards. You'd feel mildly offended in their place.

The thing is, "free tasting", in Gluttony, is about three or four fat scoops on an already large cone. You've been living here for a while, and less than that would probably be considered insulting.

In turn, that is also what Berle regularly attempts to shove in your mouth.

The prince is behind the balcony, reaching for a fresh container and twirling an original brand spoon in his hand. More than the excitement in his eyes, his own tail seems to dance behind the demon.

" New flavor? " Your eyes widen.

Berle hums brightly. " Perhaps! Oh yes, maybe! But not yet, too much to test, too much to think about legally ahah, providers, but I wanted you to test it out for me just this once, okay? Really fast- "

It's only after he retrieves a spoonful that you can see the ice cream itself. It looks creamy, swirls of soft lavender and salmon blending together nicely, a sugary sweet scent to it. Berle has such a talent for making any kind of ice cream look appetizing. This gift of his has made you reconsider an embarrassing amount of bizarre flavor mixes.

" Open wide! "

You do. Probably wider than you should have.

But it's reflex at this point. Like most gluttons, he's got this habit of simply overfilling a spoonful. Loading it with so much that one would guess his intent is to make you choke. But no such thing, Berle insisted when you pried, he merely forgot your limitations. He loved you, so he wanted you to have more, always.

Recently, the prince has gotten better with dosing for humans, in no small part due to the growing popularity of his establishment, bringing in customer diversity. You however, have choked and coughed food back out enough times to trigger a brand new survival mechanism at the mere utterance of 'open'. Your jaws part as much as your feeble human anatomy allows them to, sometimes popping in the process, and your tongue hangs to further keep things unobstructed.

Berle is bad at masking what pleases him.

He enjoys that you've learned to do this.

Seen by the tint to his cheeks as he eagerly shovels the spoonful into your mouth.

Predictably, it's so much that it makes your cheeks puff humorously, but it's manageable. You don't choke, just shiver at the coldness and try not to bite down. You let it sit in the gradually decreasing warmth of your mouth, mulling on the flavor.

Sweet, incredibly sweet, but light all the same. The burst of sugar isn't long enough to let you get sick of it, fizzing away to a pleasant freshness. You can't tell the ingredients used in this. Funnily enough, you almost never can, aside from the most common flavors such as strawberry, chocolate and caramel, for example. Maybe it's just that you don't have the same complexity in your tastebuds as a glutton does, so your brain mixes and mashes signals into something unreadable. You're aware of lot of Berle's subtle work goes entirely unnoticed to your dull palate- That he keeps trying to provide new taste experiences for you in spite of knowing you'll never get as much pleasure from any as one of his own is a testament to the prince's morbid love.

" So? So? " He grins so incredibly wide that his cheeks strain, offering you a second spoonful that is slowly accepted.

He's graced with a response as soon as you're not nearly drooling. " Amazing, as usual. It's not as heavy, I feel like I could have a lot more of this one than anything else but... "

" But...? " The demon's malleable horns shift as he tilts his head.

" But, I can't really tell what it's made of. " He hasn't even told you the name of it either, so there's hardly a hint.

" Ah yes yes, I expected you wouldn't. See, it's more uhm- Synthetic, than my usual work. Not at all like me, I think you'd know that of all people, lollipop, ahah- But part of my work does involve branching out, constantly, right? I'd usually be against something so err fabricated, so... Implicative, but I just couldn't pass this up! You understand, right? "

While he blabbers, you begin to sense a slight increase in temperature. You know damn right that Hell would blink out of existence faster than the air conditioning in this establishment could fail, so something's clearly amiss.

" -Especially after they said it would be perfectly safe for human consumption! Of course, I can't just sell this willy-nilly without being sure that things won't devolve into a rampant mess, it could be weaponized I know this- But perhaps as an offer to couples who come here together on their cute little meet-dates, right? The effects then would be harmless, like now- "

It's getting really hot. You're sweating. Should probably take that jacket off.

Wait, what did he say just now?

" The what-? "

" Hm? " Berle pauses.

" You said... " A fog clutches the creases of your mind, massaging it into a fine, aimless pulp. God fucking damn it, what did he just make you eat? " ... Effects? "

" Mhm, right right! This type of ice cream is made using material from a person, causing whoever eats it to feel madly infatuated for said person, ehh needy, if you will- This means it has to be commissioned obviously, so there's a certain wait time and the material has to be handled carefully! It could be blood, I think most people will want to use their blood, but I personally used... " Berle's peppy expression turns into something much less innocent as he watches you squirm in place, trying to keep up with his chattering. Your eyes linger on his mostly bare form and satisfaction carves its way into those mismatched eyes.

" Something else, you know? "

There's a flicker of recognition in your gradually muddling brain. You manage to offer the royal infernal an annoyed, near frigid look, reminiscing about the unsavory part of your role here. Getting to taste-test flavors is a euphemism for being a bit of a lab-rat. And while you're sure that Berle wouldn't deliberately feed you something he thinks could genuinely cause harm, he's not above this type of scummy behavior either.

A pulse of want has your teeth clenching while your legs propell you to him, causing the prince to all but giggle loudly, putting the spoon and container away when you grab onto his stupid pink apron.

" Let me... " You murmur, fevered with the desire to have him. Any way, any part, you have a strange urge to get Berle into your mouth. Flashes of you kissing and biting and tasting every inch of his skin assault your mind.

Bizarre, as if out of nowhere, you developed an erotic oral fixation that was simply overwhelming in intensity.

" Oh hoo hoo, working well working well! How are you feeling, gumdrop? "

It starts with a searing kiss.

It's less genuine affection and more of a need to cram your tongue as deep into him as you can. A laughable objective, given Berle has a tongue that puts plenty of his own kind to shame. If that weren't enough, he's always enthusiastic, so you never had a semblance of a chance. He kisses back and, sensing your fervor, generously supplies more of that multicolored muscle into you. You choked aggressively the first few times he was stupid enough to do this to you without thinking, nearly threw everything back out, but your time inside this Ring has changed you in many ways. Not only have you become more voracious, it's as if your gag reflex is often muted in select moments. Given the thing dragging over all crevices of your mouth and throat, you should have started to flinch and panic, but all that's there is an unnerving breed of glee and mild oxygen deprivation.

Berle dominates, much to your slight frustration, pulling you back when the embrace simply becomes too gross to prolong. Not that you care if your chin is soaked, not that you care if the taste of all the cloying sweets he had today is now imprinted on your own taste buds.

A shameless hand darts down, feeling what it had hoped to.

Behind the rather thin fabric of Berle's apron protrudes the very thing you're sure he'll have no problem letting you stuff yourself with. Berle shares a concubus rib somewhere in his lineage, that's likely why he wears so little all the time, why he even thought of this flavor as an appealing suggestion. It's also the reason he somehow always seems to be able to tug you away for some quick tomfoolery.

There's no doubt he's the one pleasantly surprised when you drop to your knees and swipe that apron aside.

Berle's now throbbing length has the exact same coloration as his tongue, that borderline rainbow-like hue, like a pastel gradient of sorts. You've asked him before if he was born this way, as unlikely as it seems, but he doesn't ever provide a straight answer. Rainbow body parts are something you'd expect of a mermonsters and fey types. Not a demon, certainly.

Part of you believes he just got body modifications because it makes his cock look like some kind of rare candy cane. Somewhat of a dangerous gambit, given another glutton could get confused enough to bite him, with those infernal teeth...

But you're no glutton.

All you do is lick across the length of him like he really is no more than a rainbow twister lollipop, earning yourself a shaky gasp, before putting the very tip in your mouth and swirling around it. You have no idea why this is what you want so bad, why it's making you so happy, you just know you needed to feel him exactly this way.

For all his usual rampant excitement, all Berle can do now is grab onto the counter and watch you work a sizable portion of his girth into your throat. Another perk of your prolonged stay in Hell, you could say. The you from a few months ago could never swallow this much of a partner without crying and gagging real ugly.

" O- Ohhn- I do thhink maybe some alterations should be made -Ahahn- For humans specifically? Mmmm it seems to be taking you by stohh- "

You can feel Berle pulse within the walls of your mouth, lips flush against the root of his cock, kissing his slit. Normally, this would take some effort from your part, some warmup. A nasty noise follows as you slurp all the way back to the top just to chase that hint of tang. Berle's eyes roll back for a second and a choked moan escapes him. You're relentless, pumping him while catching your breath, only to dip back down with a dirty vigor, proudly feeling him hit deep spots within you.

Berle has learned not to fuck your mouth. All larger infernals must learn this sooner or later when they pick smaller partners, and the prince is no exception. But that doesn't mean he's not digging his claws into the counter for dear life and flexing his legs for control.

The only thing that makes you pop off his candy cock is when the confectioner's phone starts ringing, this jarring tune reminiscent of a festive jingle, breaking the mood. Berle himself looks annoyed, studying the caller ID before smiling and making a 'continue' motion.

Alright then.

He's talking immediately.

" Old friend! " Pause, one hand falls to the back of your head. " Yes yes yess- " That last one must have been for you. " I did get the sample, tested it already- Why, with a volunteer of course, I have my ways... "

His scummy ways.

Perhaps it's mean of you, but you take the opportunity to tease Berle and drag him across your lips like some pervert's version of lipstick. He nearly frowns, exerting some pressure to make you quit it. Whatever gargle of surprise you make is covered by his loud tone.

" Yes- Uhuh- Look though, we'll have to tone it down a bit. " He gasps. " No, it's just- My volunteer was human, and it really took them for a spin, y'know? No, I'm serious! Not even two spoons in, they were already under, that's fast! Very fast hhnoly shit- "

You would have laughed at that slip up, but all that happens is a devilish contraction around his shaft.

" N-No, it shocked me. " Berle coughs. " You should have seen-... I don't think so, royal lineage wouldn't make it stronger just on hhh its own. I think maybe you could make it a little less sudden, give it a little buzz period, y'know, hahahn Lords fuck- "

The person on the other side of the call appears to be blabbering just long enough that Berle feels confident in distancing the phone a bit and growling, making the most out of their rant by urging you to move faster with curt bucks of his hips. Sometimes he slips out of your mouth entirely, frustrating for the two of you yet desperate in a whole other dirty way.

When Berle pays attention again, the person must have been calling for him.

" Ah- Ahah, sorry yes I'm here- Excuse me if I sound muffled I'm always running around you know it's just how the job is it never stops please continue yes- " How does he fit that much air into his lungs?

It feels like he's close to cumming. Normally, Berle would be moaning and snarling about it, but he can't be nearly as vocal right now, so all you have to guide yourself is the oscillation of his composure and his tensing lower abdomen.

At some point, the prince throws his head back and appears to lean onto the counter as if to balance himself, blowing steam through his nostrils in a way the caller might mistake for exhaustion. His tail wraps around your chest loosely, getting to your neck and squeezing briefly.

That's the cue.

No mercy.

" Hrrhn... Nno no, it's perfectly fine, I know how it is with newer products. It's perfectly fine no one got injured at ALL- It's totally okay, I'm not disappointed no nooh- " He slams a fist on the counter, mad that the call is going on for as long as it has.

You've never actually seen Berle get angry from a lengthy conversation. It would be hilarious if you weren't so fixated on getting him to cum.

" I have a lot of faith in you guys I'm sure everything will work out and I'dlovetoworkwithyouallinthefutureokaybyebyegottagotoodles- " He launches the phone at some unfortunate wall. " My pretty pretty lollipop you're gonna suck the soul out of me like that- "

And you do. Because his usual yapping is cut short only a few seconds after, becoming nothing but senseless noises as Berle hunches and pants open-mouthed, giving you the rewarding rush you wanted. Much to his distaste, you pull back to get to taste it, regretting it when it's predictably too much and forces you to pull away. The prince makes a mess of your cheek and neck, ruining even the top you had picked, before you try to get the last of it on your tongue again.

And as soon as you swallow, the urge that had possessed you earlier releases its clutches, the cloud of need turning your vision pink fading suddenly.

You're left with sore knees, an aching jaw, and the moderately gross sensation of hot ropes on cooling skin.

" Couldn't you at least have asked before starting all t- "

You're interrupted by Berle's cumstained fingers wedging into your mouth. Not even this you're allowed to waste.

" But aren't surprises so much more entertaining? I really think they are, didn't you have fun? Besides, it'll be my turn soon, don't you worry lollipop, what kind of lover would I be if I didn't thank you for such wonderful feedback- "

You wonder who that supplier is...

#Berle oc

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sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast · 1 year ago

Text

Day 15: Spanking

♤♡-Pairs: Albedo x gn!reader

☆☆-Warnings: Spanking (duh), calculating praise, light temp play(its cold in dragonspine), gloves, albedo enjoys it and so do you (;

"Allow me to repeat what you just asked me." Albedo spoke softly with a cold undertone. His notes now left on the bench as he stares at you, posed in thought. "You would like me to...spank you?" Your face heats, shifting from one foot to the other. It took all day to simply work up the courage to ask him. It'd been something you wanted to incorporate into your sex life for a while. And its not that he'd decline but he simply would...ask too many questions.

You nod. And he hums, nodding his head. "I see. Well, we should think of this as an experiment correct?" He didn't wait for an answer, pushing some of his lab equipment to the side, creating a bare spot on his table. Albedo patted it.

"Wait-now? But it's-" you looked around. You were currently in his lab area, the one on Dragonspine. Snow covered the ground and only the fire in the middle of the carved out cave warmed the area. "Is there a problem?" He questioned, his hands absently rubbing the top of the table. Unintentionally teasing you-or perhaps it was intentional. You bit your lip before walking over, standing until he motioned for you to slip your pants off. And you couldn't help but notice he didn't show..much excitement. But more of a, calculated intrigue. "Are you sure-?"

You'd only managed to slip them down to your knees before he pushed you towards the table. Your front pressed against the table, pants around your ankles now as your ass was presented to him. Only covered in your underwear.

"You want me to do this for you..., don't mistake my casualty for lack of excitement. I will enjoy this just as much as you."

Your body was racked with a shiver; unknown if it was because of his words or the cold now settling into your bones. You felt his hand come to your ass, rubbing it with calculated motions before taking it away. Landing it back with a harsh smack that made your back arch. And an embarrassing sound leave your mouth. "Mmmhmm!"

He hummed, staring at the reddening flesh of your cheek. Rubbing it once more before doing it again. The sound reverberated in the cave. He enjoyed when your body twitched each time he did it. Albedo thought you should've brought this to his attention sooner.

The cold of Dragonspine made each smack harder. Frigid air numbing your skin until his gloved hand cracked on your ass. But it felt better than you imagined, you could already feel yourself get aroused by this. "Are you enjoying yourself?" You heard him ask, his hand sliding to the other cheek to rub. Smacking it too. You yelped, "Mmhmm, yes-yes i am."

Smack. Another blow landed to your ass.

He pushed up against you, a new yet obvious erection in his pants. Pressed flush against your ass, he said, "So am I. What do you say we...test another hypothesis?"

Masterlist

creds: to my bestie for the idea/character ♡♡

Prev. ☆ Next.

#genshin impact #kinktober #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #albedo #albedo smut #albedo x reader #albedo x you #lovelies getting freaky

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lunicho · 1 year ago

Note

Thoughts on massage therapist hubby yeonjun who sees you’re tense and agitated after a long day and just has to offer his services. He starts out super helpful but your little moans here and there have him removing your clothes one by one under the guise of wanting to “help”. In the end he just ends up fucking you just how u like it to take the stress away :) -🧚‍♀️

oh i have to answer this rn ik i haven't been on here answering asks much but!!! i actually went to massage school and although i didn't finish this is just.... yum..

thinking abt him having a love for deep tissue work bc he loves to see you ball your fists and whine and get all out of breath,, loves the way you sigh in such a relieved way when the pain subsides and all that's left is your body feeling so much more refreshed than before. loves helping his baby feel better,, anyways 😁

he'd start off slow and helpful, trying to set up the massage table as quietly as he can in the middle of your living room, just in case you have a headache. he'd slide the coffee table over near the massage table and he'd set up some oils and some candles, your favorite ones to be exact. he'd worked at his studio this day so everything was left out since he hadn't put it back quite yet. he's naturally a flirt so it's normal for him to grab your arm, trailing his hand down to yours, interlocking your fingers as he brings you over to the massage table, relaxing music playing from the tv. he'd have already asked you to change into something tight as it's always recommended for ease during clothed massages. sometimes he'll straight up ask you to get on his table naked but his intentions are truly pure at first with this one. you always look so good in your sports bra and leggings.

he'd start by warming up your body, gently loosening you up. his hands would move skillfully amongst your body. he'd quietly remind you to breathe, even guiding your breaths with his own when he hears that you're still a little tense from your day. his hands easily locate your areas of tension, swiftly getting rid of them. he'd start off on your back, the whimpers that fall from you going straight to his cock. he can't help it!! the curve of your ass looks so good in his favorite leggings and your little whines don't help much either :(

when he has you flip over you can't help but take notice of his bulge in his sweats, but you don't initiate anything. his hands would continue over your body, adding more oil into his hands so he can slick his hands over your arms and chest, his fingertips slightly dipping into your bra. you'd moan on purpose when he does this, knowing he won't be able to resist for long. he'd have you pull the band of your leggings down below your belly button as well, hands dipping into your waistband once again. he's losing it a bit this time, his hand hesitating to go further into your pants. he'd mutter to you about how you should remove your pants so he can put oil on your legs and really help you feel relaxed and ofc you agree!! but with your pants gone it's not long before he's rubbing you over your panties, one hand squeezing your breasts. he loves when you're laid out for him, you're like his own little anatomy chart.

he'd play with your pussy, the oil on his hands providing some slick for him to easily glide all over you. he'd move down your legs, continuing to massage you more in between. i could soo see him standing at the head of the table, fucking into your throat while he plays with your clit 😵‍💫😵‍💫. but just fucking your throat won't do,, he'd wanna fuck you on the table, moving down to the floor later on, getting onto the couch after that even!! he'll go as much as you want, as long as he can relieve your stress 😵‍💫

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itzsana-kiddingmenow · 6 months ago

Text

𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙜��𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙙:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 2k

𝙖/𝙣: dunno how to feel about this one yall

𝙩/𝙬: use of restraints for jeongin’s part, but not heavily mentioned, rough tickles

𝒍𝒆𝒆: minho, jeongin

𝙡𝙚𝙧: chan, jeongin, minho

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9 @sunny-117

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s🖤

No matter how many times he thought of it, Jeongin didn’t understand how bursting into his arch-nemesis’ lair would let them beat him.

Although…Chan always had seemed fond of their rival…teasing, flirty smirks and quips exchanged between the two, but what Jeongin knew was that Chan cherished Minho’s smile more than anything else.

It was pretty appealing to watch the two, even though in the end one would always end up bandaging the others’ wounds. It was a…complicated relationship.

These thoughts raced through the sidekick’s head as he snuck into the familiar place through the back entrance, breaking the lock in.

Jeongin assumed Minho would probably be asleep, considering it was 12:30 in the morning.

He reached for his device in his pocket, intent on calling Chan and letting him know he made it.

Jeongin never got that chance.

Lights switched on and he was thrown to the floor with a grunt as Minho raised a glass bottle over his head. Innie shrieked in fear and held his hands out in peace.

After recognizing him, Minho relaxed a bit, still holding the bottle. Jeongin had time to notice the older wearing a comfy-looking hoodie except for his usual dark style.

The two stared at each other, both lost in thought. “Why are you here?” Minho scoffed, setting the bottle down but keeping the younger still pinned beneath him.

Jeongin gulped, staring up at the villain in fear.

“Not spilling, huh?” Min suddenly stood up, pulling the younger along with him, and Innie struggled his hardest, yanking and tugging at his pinned hands in Minho’s. “L-Let me go!! Please!!” Jeongin shrieked.

“Nope. I want to know where Chan’s place is. And you’re gonna tell me.” Jeongin could hear the sleepiness in the older’s voice, but decided not to act on it for now.

“No, I’m not! There’s nothing you can do to make me spill and I’d rather die than betray him!” Innie yelled. “Now let me go!”

Minho sighed a long, tired sigh and pulled the younger into a dark room, pressing him onto a flat table and latching his limbs into place. Even though Innie screamed for help and desperately tried to escape, it didn’t work.

“Just shut uppp…” Minho groaned, jabbing the boy in the side and startling when the boy let out a small, cute shriek of laughter. And then went dead silent.

“What was that?~” Minho smiled, a soft, gentle smile that Jeongin finally understood why Channie loved. The villain certainly didn’t act like one.

“N-Nothing.” Innie blurted out and tried to clamp his limbs down protectively, just to be met with a smaaallissue. He was tied.

“Why were you laughing?” Minho asked, poking the younger’s side again, earning a similar shriek.

“That tickles!! Please, leave me alone!” Innie begged, just to let out an ungodly scream and loud laughter when Minho kneaded as his side experimentally.

“Oh? So all it does is…make you laugh?” Minho wondered to himself, moving both hands to the younger boy’s sides and kneading unevenly, gently.

However, for poor Innie, this only tickled more. “PLEHEASE!! Lehehehet gohoho!!” The boy angled his body away, just to be met with the other hand on his upper ribs.

“No…noho—nohot thehehere please!!” Jeongin pleaded, frantically thrashing around and trying to escape.

“Oh? Is this a bad spot?” Minho asked genuinely, pressing his finger pads against the area and watching Jeongin crash down onto the table with a squeal.

“Hm. Okay.” Minho shrugged, turning away. Jeongin breathed a sigh of relief, just to let out a howl when the fingers returned just to tease him, kneading down the space and pulling the loudest of laughter from the poor lee.

“That’s so cute~! You’re laughing so loudly!” Minho giggled, moving down to the poor boy’s hips.

“Does this tickle?” Minho pressed down on the bone and relishing in the desperate scream Jeongin let out.

“IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES!! IHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES TOHOHOHOOO MUHUHUCH!! STOHOHOHOP THIHIS TOHOHORTURE!!” Innie frantically screamed, rattling the entire table with his thrashing as Min kneaded roughly into his hip bone.

“Maybe I’d stop if you told me where Chan lives.” Minhos shrugged. “But who knows?”

Jeonginnie gasped for air the second Minho let up for a break, moving towards his upper body again. “Wahahait…noho…”

“No breaks. You’re gonna tell me.” Minho threatened, but Innie shook his head, though a little slow in doing so.

“Fine. Then no mercy.” Minho suddenly placed his hands on Innie’s underarms and went to town, and the younger was screaming again, loud cackles pouring from him endlessly, it never stopped, it never slowed down.

Minho’s tickly fingers moved from his armpits to his neck to his sides to his belly, and Jeongin could never predict where they were going next, and he was completely helpless.

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE OHO MY GAHAHAHAHAD!!” Jeongin pleaded, back arching as he tried not to break, he couldn’t say anything, Chan’s life….Chan’s life.

Chan sent him here…on purpose. He wanted Minho to catch him and arrive at his place.

All Innie knew was that he was breaking, and he finally gave in. “FAHAHAHAHAINE!! FIHIHIHINE IHIHILL TEHEHEHELLL YOU PLEHEEHEHEEASE STOHOHOHOHOP!!”

As per his deal, Min let go, watching Innie’s body crash to the table as the younger gulped in as much oxygen as he could.

“That worked much better than I thought it would.” Minho declared, and Jeongin glared at him. “You suhuck.”

“You were the one who was laughing,” Minho retorted. “Now show me.”

He unlatched Jeongin from the table, still holding the younger tightly but gently on the wrist to prevent escape.

The two headed to Chan’s place…though Minho had forgotten to change from his dark blue hoodie, shorts and messy bed hair, he was ready to take down the hero who he had been fighting with…albeit playfully.

Jeongin meanwhile, was wondering how Chan would react to him giving in just to some tickles. He thought Chan would be disappointed, maybe even upset with him.

Jeongin unlocked the door and frowned when Minho told him to stay outside.

“Chan?~” Minho sang quietly, entering the house and grabbing a bottle as a weapon.

Suddenly, two hands wrapped around his waist and Minho squealed as he was hoisted bridal-style into someone’s arms.

“Minho~” Chan cooed, snatching the bottle from the villain, whose cheeks were now a bright pink, although it was a little dark for Channie to see it.

“This isn’t funny. Put me down. I’m here to defeat you.” Minho tried to sound threatening and scary, but the way his voice shook when Chan rubbed gently along his back or the way he yawned in the middle of the sentence wasn’t doing him wonders.

“Cuteee~” Chan giggled, causing Minho to squeak. “Innie, you can come in now.”

Minho squirmed and tried to leap out of the older’s arms, but Chan tsked and gently held on. Min whined and slumped like a tired kitten into Chan’s embrace, head leaning against the hero’s chest.

“When did he become your damsel?” Jeongin laughed.

“He was always my cutie. So grumpy, aren’t you?” Chan booped his nose. Minho just grumbled and didn’t fight back.

“I…I thought he was a villain. You know, someone who was evil.” Jeongin trailed off.

“Ohhh, yeah, um…Min’s not exactly a villain to me.” Chan explained, rubbing his thumb along the younger’s cheek while the kitten looked up at him with wide eyes.

“He tickled me!! Just to tell him where you were!” Jeongin pouted.

“Oh? You tickled my sidekick, huh?” Chan squeezed the younger’s cheeks.

“Chan!!” Innie shouted. “Get him back somehow or something!”

“Fine.”

Minho shrieked when Chan set him on the couch, kneeling in front of him. Jeongin walked behind the couch and grabbed Minho’s arms, leaving the middle sitting on the couch with his arms pinned.

“Ready?” Chan asked, and Minho didn’t respond, hiding his face in his arm.

Chan sat gently onto his knees, placing his hands on either one of Minho’s sides. He frowned when Minho yet again, didn’t react.

“Hey, kitten. You have to tell me if you’re okay…” Channie gently tilted Minho’s chin to face him, and was shocked when he saw the gleam of unshed tears in the younger’s eyes. “Hey, let go, Innie.” Chan ordered, the younger responding almost immediately and then sitting next to Chan on the couch.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” Chan scooted closer. Minho’s lower lip trembled and he looked up at the hero with a truly vulnerable look that had Channie scrambling to pull the boy into a hug.

“Why are you nice to me…?” Minho whispered, and Chan could feel his heart shatter.

“Because you’re misunderstood, and I feel like even you deserve love.” Chan pressed a small kiss to his forehead. Jeongin rubbed along the kitten’s knee gently.

“My sweet kitten. I’ll cheer you up, okay?”

Minho was returned to his previous position, and Chan asked his question again. “Is this okay, sweet thing?”

Minho nodded with a blush, squeaking when Chan’s fingers pressed into his sides.

“I-I’m not ticklish…” Minho feebly tried to lie his way out of it.

Chan raised his eyebrow disbelievingly. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you beg no matter what.”

Minho crashed backwards onto the couch with a squeal the second Chan lifted his hoodie and snuck his hands onto the warm skin.

“So ticklish~” Chan giggled, squeezing up and down the sensitive sides he had latched onto.

“Pleheheheasee~!!” Minho giggled, and Jeongin was awestruck at how cute the normally stoic villain sounded.

Chan admired the younger’s wide smile from his spot. Moving his tickling fingers along Minho’s ribs, the leader laughed along with the villain screamed with laughter, throwing his head back.

“CHAHAHAHANNNIEE!!” Minho pleaded, suddenly trembling desperately when Chan pulled the middle down more to stretch out his stomach.

Minho laughed a wild, bubbly laugh when Chan gulped in air to blow messy raspberries into his belly, the hero shaking his head to spread his stupidly ticklish hair all over the boy’s stomach.

“STAHAHAHAHA—I CAHAHAHAN’T!!” Minho whined, jerking around desperately as Chan moved to his v-line, gently moving the pant line away to access the hypersensitive skin.

“Wahahait…” Minho panted, suddenly letting out a high pitched scream when Chan attacked his lower belly. Jeongin watched in amusement as the villain who had so brutally attacked them just a few weeks ago was now thrashing around laughing on the couch.

“How much does this tickle out of ten?” Chan cooed, leaning down to blow another messy, torturouslyticklish raspberry onto the sensitive skin beneath him.

“TEHEHEHEHEN!! FUHUHUHUHUHUCK THAHAAT TIHIHICKLES!!” Minho wailed, struggling to pull himself out of the situation and Jeongin’s grip.

“You’re so adorable, Min~”

Chan reached down and skittered his fingers along the boy’s thighs, earning an out of breath scream and more cackles. “NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE!!” It tickled too much, Minho could barely handle it.

“OKAHAHAHAY!! OKAY OKAY!! PLEHEHEASEE!!”

Chan laughed as he continued to tickle Minho’s thighs, causing Jeongin to have to tighten his grip as Minho frantically cackled, flinging his whole body around, trying to clamp his thighs closed, but Chan’s body was in the way.

“I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT!!” Minho pleaded.

Chan finally decided to let up, scooping the younger up and taking him to his room.

Jeongin watched at the door fondly as Chan tucked the sleepy boy in with a kiss to the forehead, and Chan blushed when his sidekick sent him a teasing glance. “Not one word.” Jeongin headed to his own room.

Chan clambered into bed beside the already fast asleep kitten, who smiled a tiny, cute smile when Channie wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“My little villain~” Chan cooed, pressing kisses along the nape of his neck. Minho whined, reaching back to intertwine his fingers with Chan’s.

“Maybe I love you too much to attack anymore.”

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz #lee jeongin #lee! minho #ler chan #ler minho #AHHHH DO YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE

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dfortrafalgar · 9 months ago

Text

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. posting two chapters today just because chapter 11 was so short in comparison! Beware... chapter 13 is when things start to get heavy again </3

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 12

[Prev] [Next]

While Law was busy with work, Shachi and Penguin had become more akin to doting brothers than friends during your post-op care… but today your apartment was bustling. Penguin had taken the liberty of using your phone to invite Ikkaku, who brought Nami and Usopp in tow. As you laid in your bed fighting off a mild headache, the sounds of chattering and cleaning in your apartment filled your closed off bedroom. At one point, something heavy had clattered against your kitchen floor, followed by harsh shushes warning the perpetrator of keeping silent so you could catch up on sleep. Not like that made a difference.

You checked your phone that was set charging on your bedside table. 1:00PM. You were thirsty.

Standing, you grabbed your empty glass and began to pace out of your room and toward the kitchen. Your recovery had been incredibly swift, and you had achieved a total of five days off from work with the help of the weekend. Your incision site healed quickly with a barely-visible scar, and while you still had a bit of recovery left, you had begun to feel much more like yourself. Helped in part by your official diagnosis: endometriosis. Not that you were surprised by that, but it definitely felt good to have an actual answer to your troubles. The few cysts that were found on your ovary were also benign, and your call with Dr. Robin to discuss your results left you feeling surprisingly refreshed. Things felt like they were finally starting to look up.

You rounded the corner of your apartment and entered your living area, the smell of pine and lemon-scented floor cleaner invading your nostrils and making you grimace. Your gaggle of friends were seated around the kitchen table, digging into more left-over chocolate chip cookies that, at this point, had to be beyond stale.

“Hey, there’s the woman of the hour!” called Usopp. “Sorry if we woke you up.” He flashed a toothy grin as he popped a cookie into his mouth.

You smiled, meandering to the sink to refill your glass with fresh water. “Nah, it’s all good! Thank you guys for cleaning up and spending time with Bepo, I really appreciate it, you know.”

Nami leaned back in her chair, tossing her arm over the back of it to twist her torso and gaze at you. “It’s no problem at all, it’s the least we could do! You deserve all the rest you can get after everything that’s happened.” Her friendly grin quickly morphed into one of mischievous intent. “Though, if you wanted to Venmo me, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Nami! The poor woman is struggling!” Ikkaku placed a firm slap to Nami’s shoulder, making the red-head wince.

You were laughing as you approached the table to sit with your friends, politely denying the stale cookies that were offered to you. “No no, she’s right. I’ll think of something I can do to repay all of you for all the help you’ve been to Law and I. I don’t feel right not treating you guys back in the same way.”

Shachi stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles, uttering a deep groan at the feeling of his shoulders extending. “Give your future kid my name, and we’ll call it even.”

“No fair, I wanted my name passed down!” shouted Penguin.

You sputtered a laugh against the lip of your glass. It still filled you with a bit of discomfort to discuss the topic of pregnancy so soon, but your friends’ lighthearted attitudes made your feelings a bit easier to cope with. “Not to disappoint, but Law and I already have names picked out. None of you were on the list.”

Two disappointed sighs came from your husband’s best friends, but Ikkaku excitedly leaned forward against the table with her head in her hands. “What are the options?”

You circled one of your fingers around the rim of your glass. “Law really wanted his family to be honored in some way, so right now our favorite choices are Cora, Rose or Rosa, and Lami. He said he felt a little strange having our kid’s first name be his sister’s, so if we have a daughter her middle name will probably be Lami.”

Usopp sighed dreamily. “He’s so sentimental, isn’t he?”

Ikkaku giggled. “Never say that to his face, though, or he’ll–”

The front door cracked open. From the corner of the room, Bepo picked his head up.

“Say ‘what’ to my face?” Law entered his apartment with a grouchy expression, closing and locking the door before shrugging off his light jacket and placing his hat on a hook behind the door.

“Hi, honey!” you called, your eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of your husband. “You’re home early!”

Law stretched his back and wobbled toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing an energy drink from the door. “Well, I had a surgery this evening, but the patient ended up coding.”

Nami cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

“He croaked,” replied Law, taking a sip and assuming a protective stance behind your chair. “Can’t perform surgery on a dead guy.”

“Aw, that’s too bad…” Ikkaku chimed in, her excited posture manifesting into a more forlorn slouch. “You must see that a lot, huh?”

Law shrugged. “Not really, most of the time it’s elderly people who die before they get treatment. It’s hard when you’re old.”

You reached a hand up behind you, placing it on your husband’s shoulder. He took his free hand and wrapped it around your own. “Well, I’m glad you got to come home early. Everyone spent the entire day cleaning the house while I was in bed.”

“Is that why it smells like pine cleaner in here?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“Usopp spilled the bottle on the floor,” Nami piped up.

“It was an accident,” the curly-haired man replied with a perturbed hiss.

—

The plate of cookies was discarded, the kitchen was finished being cleaned, and your friends had all departed for the night, leaving you and Law cuddling alone on your couch as a brain-dead comedy rerun played on the television. Bepo remained on his plush bed in the corner, his entire body upside down and snoring away peacefully. You laid against Law’s chest as his lean hands ran up and down your sides, ghosting the skin beneath your cotton shirt with pleasant electric tickles that made you stifle a giggle occasionally.

“Hey, can we talk?” Law asked, eyes still trained on the television, but clearly not absorbing any of the half-assed jokes and canned laugh track.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, shifting a little against his body to face him. You reached over his head for the remote that was sitting on the arm of your couch, pressing the power button to turn off the television and envelope you and your husband in a calm silence.

Law smiled weakly, his golden eyes now trained on your own. “Did you get a call back from your doctor?”

You nodded. “I do have endometriosis, and the cysts on my ovaries are benign. She actually said they were quite small and said if they started causing me more trouble, then they could be dealt with.”

Your husband ran his hand over the back of your head. “And how do you feel about that?”

You sighed, leaning your head against his chest, listening to the way his heart thrummed against his rib cage. “I feel… strange. It’s weird to know that this entire condition was under the radar for my entire life until we started wanting to have kids. And everything’s been happening so quickly, sometimes I feel like the entire world is spinning around me.”

Law hummed. “I bet… it’s been a hard few months.”

You closed your eyes, your own hand trailing fleeting touches up and down his shoulder. “Thank you for sticking with me, Law.”

Your husband picked his head up to gaze down at the top of your head. “Why would you have to thank me for that?”

“Well…” you began, struggling to form words. You felt too ashamed to face him head-on, and chose instead to keep hiding your gaze in his chest. “We’ve been married for over two years, and I still haven’t been able to give you a baby like we’ve wanted. So the fact that you’ve stayed with me–”

“Let me interrupt you right there.” Law’s tone was firm and authoritative as he interjected. “Do you remember what I told you before I got my own test done? That I’m your husband and that I refuse to leave you over an idle issue?”

You dug through your brain’s memory bank, finally settling on the vision of the two of you in much the same position as you were now. You smiled faintly. “Right, the issue that might be resolved.”

Law pinched your cheek in his fingers. “Will be resolved. And do you remember what we promised each other on our wedding day?”

“Law, why are you quizzing me?” you questioned, voice barely higher than a whisper, as you finally lifted your head and made eye contact with your husband.

He didn’t answer you, instead continuing his own train of thought. “On our wedding day, one of the promises we made to each other was ‘in sickness and in health.’ I feel sick to my stomach when I imagine a world where I leave you over this.” His hands continued rubbing your back as he spoke. “No one could have predicted this outcome. No one could have ever expected a reality like this, but it’s a reality that we’re sharing. I’m happy without children just as I’d be happy with children. What matters the most to me right now, at this moment, is that you’re still here with me. Right now, your health and wellbeing is more important than any hypothetical child.”

Law’s words were rapidly provoking heavy, salty tears to well in your eyes, which quickly overflowed down your cheeks and into the fabric of his shirt. One of his hands caressed your cheek, feeling as your jaw shifted and you sniffled away the snot that was also forming in your sinuses at his words. You blubbered, a weak smile crawling onto your weary lips. “How do you always know how to make me cry?”

Your husband’s chest bounced slightly with his own chuckle. “You bring the sap out of me.”

You laughed into his neck. “For someone who claims to be shit with emotions, you’re surprisingly eloquent.”

He responded to your words by placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head. “Well of course. I need to make sure I keep my wife smiling, after all.”

After a few brief moments of gentle caresses, your tears subsided enough for you to ask, “When we get the okay from my doctor… Do you still want to try again for another baby?”

Law smiled. “For as long as you want to keep trying, so do I.”

#fem reader #reader insert #x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #i'm losing you

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somedaylazysomeday · 9 months ago

Text

Good Intentions Part Twenty

The Haven gets a new donor, Silco wants a side deal.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 4,900

Warnings: Ongoing references to sex as a form of payment, veiled references to organized crime, arguments, oral sex (fem!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, and blackmail

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

You did your best not to squint at the men on the other side of the table. Doing so would only make it look like you were suspicious of them.

You were suspicious of them, of course, but there was no need to be obvious.

“My apologies, gentlemen,” you said slowly. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but with all of the opportunities available to you, I don’t understand why you are so interested in helping to fund the Haven.”

“It’s complicated.” Jayce Talis, the most famous Piltover inventor in recent history, rubbed at the space between his heavy brows.

“I do own and operate a relief organization and facilitate certain healthcare treatments, including minimizing the effects of Shimmer withdrawal,” you pointed out mildly. “Maybe, if you explain it slowly, I can follow along.”

One corner of his mouth curved upward, emphasizing the fullness of his lips. He was famously handsome and infamously unavailable, but that was fine. Your tastes ran in other directions.

His business partner - a man who was known around the Undercity only as Viktor - crossed his arms, slouching back in his seat. You tried not to judge it as a show of poor manners, especially when he straightened his leg with a wince. It was very likely Viktor just needed to adjust positions. Of course, it was equally likely that he didn’t find you very amusing.

“Make your point, Jayce,” Viktor muttered. “We have important business to take care of at the lab.”

“Yes, the lab,” Jayce said, adding a nod in your direction. “As you may already know, HexTech is doing well. We have made several important advancements and are set to debut more over the next few years. We own the patents to everything outright, so all profits come to us. Piltover has given us a few dozen grants and investments have flooded in. We have plenty of money to pursue the further development of HexTech.”

You nodded. It all seemed simple to understand so far.

“There is one particular area where HexTech does not excel: outreach.” Viktor interrupted with an impatient look at his now-pouting business partner. “That is why we reached out to you.”

“Yes, but is there a particular reason you want to support the Haven rather than any other Undercity outreach?” you pressed. Maybe you were a little paranoid, but your recent experiences with Silco had convinced you that being more discerning was probably a smart move.

Jayce sat forward slightly. “The Haven’s track record is impressive. Your expense justification reports have all shown remarkably low operating costs, your residents have started to find work with other Undercity businesses, and there’s plenty of buzz about the dent you’ve made in the Shimmer trade in your neighborhood.”

The blood roared in your ears at that. “That’s an overstatement, of course. Drug use waxes and wanes in neighborhoods over time. It’s just coincidence that Shimmer use decreased when the Haven opened.”

Jayce furrowed his brows, but Viktor looked like you had finally said something interesting. “I assume that is the line one must repeat vehemently if one wants to avoid the attention of the chem barons.”

“Chem barons?” Jayce repeated, now frowning harder. “They’re a local legend, a convenient shadow government that the people can blame their problems on.”

“Of course,” you agreed.

Viktor looked darkly amused. “Nothing more than a legend, certainly.”

“Yeah…” Jayce said slowly, glancing between you and Viktor. “Anyway, we’ve heard about the decreased drug use and we want to support that as much as possible. You and the Haven seem like the best choice to make that happen.”

“How is your security?” Viktor asked abruptly.

“We have a small team of guards for the exterior of the building,” you said honestly. It probably wouldn’t help anything if you told them exactly who was paying for that small team of guards. “There is almost no Enforcer presence in the Lanes, so we can’t count on a patrol happening at a crucial time.”

“I can pull a few strings,” Jayce assured you, totally confident. “I have some connections with the Enforcers. Piltover wants to support new development, especially when it isn’t tied to the drug trade. And they’re not going to find anything better than an anti-Shimmer organization with a proven track record.”

You nodded in acknowledgement of his point, but looked to Viktor. “And you? Do you also think the Haven is a good match for HexTech’s goals?”

Viktor lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I fail to see what impact your outreach could possibly have on the Undercity. The politics are snarled, the people are desperate, and there is too much money to be made from exploitation.”

That was a harsh assessment, but it was true. Jayce cleared his throat uncomfortably, but Viktor spoke again before the better-mannered of the pair could offer any reassurances. “That being said, I am… reluctantly impressed by what I have heard of your meetings with Silco. There are few willing to argue with him.”

You stiffened slightly at Viktor’s mention of Silco. Up to that point, you had both pointedly avoided using his name, as evidenced by the way Jayce was glancing between the two of you.

“I don’t understand,” Jayce admitted. “Who is Silco?”

“You will find out,” Viktor said, the statement sounding both threatening and utterly inevitable as he stood. “I must return to the lab. Jayce, I agree with whatever choice you make.”

You watched as Viktor leaned heavily on the cane and left the building. It was situated at the edge of Piltover, just across the bridge from the Undercity. Jayce had assured you multiple times that, if they were not working on time-sensitive experiments at HexTech, they would have been more than willing to meet you in the Undercity. He may have even been telling the truth.

Jayce was still half-smiling when he looked back at you. “Who is Silco?”

You got the impression that he would keep pushing until he got an answer, so you chose your words carefully. “He is a… major player in the Undercity. He wants- well, he says he’s working for the good of the people. That’s up for debate.”

“But what does he do?” Jayce pressed.

“He’s an industrialist.” You sat very straight on the edge of your chair - not quite standing, but giving the impression that you were ready to leave. “Speaking of helping the Undercity, I need to get back to the Haven. When you’ve made a decision about your outreach, please let me know.”

“Easy enough,” Jayce said, standing to offer a hand over the table. “HexTech would like to provide funding for the Haven, to be used in whatever way you think is appropriate.”

You were giddy with excitement, and it rushed through your veins like adrenaline. Somehow, you managed to keep a straight face long enough to thank Jayce and accept the check he filled out for the Haven. It was generous, which made your heart soar. You would be able to help so many people!

The good news put a spring in your step and you were still bouncing as you climbed the stairs to Silco’s office. Thankfully, no one was around so early in the day - you had serious doubts about your ability to look cranky and irritated right then, but you would have been obliged to put on a performance if there were onlookers.

“You seem cheerful,” Silco noted as you closed the door behind yourself.

“So far, so good,” you told him, walking over to his desk. “What’s the plan for today?”

He ignored your question. “Productive morning, I take it?”

“Very.”

You peered out through the window. The Last Drop was just barely tall enough for you to catch glimpses of the building projects happening over near the Haven. The mechanic’s shop was well on its way to being completed, the construction crews had broken ground on the second apartment building, and the grocers were taking over an existing building, so they were already in the process of hiring staff.

As you leaned back, you caught sight of a familiar handprint on the glass and your lower belly tightened with the reminder of how it had gotten there.

“And how much will HexTech be allotting you?”

With the casually conversational way Silco asked his question, you didn’t immediately notice that anything was wrong. Your attention was split between the handprint on the window and the ever-increasing needs of your body. At last, awareness filtered through and you froze.

‘I-” You cleared your throat, giving your best innocent expression as you turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Silco gave an impatient gesture. “Come, pet, we have already discussed that I know all that happens in Zaun.”

“Nothing happened in Zaun,” you said blandly.

His answering look was dry. “But a potential alliance between the Haven and HexTech undeniably concerns Zaun and her future. Do me the courtesy of assuming I know of your meeting with the two inventors behind HexTech.”

“Fine,” you agreed, largely because he gave no indication of moving on. “I met with the owners of HexTech.”

“Thank you,” Silco said, gaze drifting to the window. “And how much has young Talis decided to give the Haven?”

You paused, uncomfortable with the idea that you needed to place a boundary. You and Silco shouldn’t be close enough to need things like boundaries - the clear divisions between you should have been so obvious as to be implied. “I’m not sharing that information with you.”

“Why not?” he asked. “If I know the size of their donation, I can exceed it.”

“I don’t need any more donations at the moment,” you told him.

Silco’s brows unfurrowed. “Ah, that much? Congratulations. You may rest secure in the knowledge that the sale of your morals has fetched so high a price.”

You recoiled at the slight before you could stop yourself. A drug lord was going to lecture you about morals? That bothered you. Surely that was the cause of your discomfort. Any other reason would imply that Silco was important enough to you that his opinion mattered.

“I didn’t have to sacrifice my morals to accept their donation, unlike others the Haven has received in the past,” you told him icily.

Silco stood abruptly, his chair lurching back with the movement. You held your ground, though it took more effort than you were comfortable with. “My donations served your residents just as well as the ones from HexTech will, and at far more dire a time. Do not act as though I were not there to support you every time you have needed me.”

You gaped at that. “Because we’re in a deal! Every donation served you just as well as it did me - it increased your leverage over me and the Haven. Convenient, since you need me around for an easy source of sex.”

He scoffed, looming over you. “Do you truly believe that there are not others who throw themselves at my feet? I receive more offers of easy sex than you would believe possible.”

“Then why keep me around?” you pressed.

“Because you are the only one who offers the slightest hint of a challenge!” he snapped, breathing heavily. You had stepped into him rather than away, and he was already so close that your chest and his were nearly touching. You glared at each other from inches away before one or both of you closed the gap separating you.

His mouth was hard and unyielding against yours, disinterested in any hint of refusal. Fortunately, refusing his kiss was the last thing on your mind. The energy of securing the HexTech donation was still crackling through you, and sex was a wonderful outlet. The slight tinge of irritation accompanying it only served to increase the appeal.

You met him with lips that were already slightly parted, and your tongues were dueling in a moment. Kissing Silco wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to you, but it was still rare enough that you considered it a novel experience.

Your toes were curling at the slow luxury of his mouth on yours. Silco was rarely in a hurry, even now, when you were apparently taking a break in the middle of a fight. Your interest was only piqued further when he started removing your clothing with rough movements. When he had finished, he pushed you backward as you gasped with shock.

Fortunately, Silco had thought far enough ahead to position you close to his desk. The sensation of your bare ass on the cold surface of the desk was jarring, but you watched Silco eagerly. You were more than willing to brave the temperature difference in order to watch him undress for you.

To your surprise, Silco lowered himself, fully-dressed, into his throne-like chair. You eyed him, frowning as he took your ankles in his hands. They were placed to either side of his chair, leaving them supported by the arm rests at his sides. It went without saying that your knees were forced open by the position, leaving your core exposed to the air… and to Silco’s gaze.

That mismatched stare was fixed between your legs, studying the most private parts of you as you tried not to squirm. When he reached out to touch your cunt, you felt his fingertips like electric shocks… but he only parted your folds and continued his silent observation.

Irritation, embarrassment, and need swirled together in you until the pressure pushed words from your mouth. “Silco. What are you doing?”

“Studying my favorite acquisition,” he replied distantly. Even lost in your own distraction, you could feel the echo of your first time together, in this very situation in this very office, when Silco had said something similar. “And wondering how my pet can be so very unyielding, yet yield so delightfully in other areas.”

You frowned at him - not that Silco was looking at your face. “Whatever answers you’re looking for, you aren’t going to find them down there.”

That made him glance upward, a small smile playing around the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps it would be best if you lay back.”

You complied, though not without rolling your eyes. “If we’re having a repeat of our first session, I hope the sex is more satisfactor- Oh!”

Without any sort of warning, Silco’s mouth had closed around your clit. You half-lifted back off the surface of his desk, staring down at his face between your legs. You could only hope that your expression was less desperate than you felt, but wicked pleasure filled Silco’s gray-green eye, so you didn’t think that was accurate.

And then he set about making you forget all about expressions and irritations. Silco buried himself between your thighs, teasing you with fingers and lips and tongue and teeth. He nibbled, he stroked, he thrust… He used every hint of weakness he had gathered from you over your time together, recalling every sensation that drove you wild and subjecting you to all of them at once.

You arched up off the desk so sharply that the muscles in your back and abdomen protested. Your knees tried to close around Silco - either to keep him close or to force him away from you, you weren’t sure which - but his shoulders kept you spread open and subjected to his torment.

By the time he had pressed three fingers deep inside of you, your body was glistening with sweat. You were panting, your hips trying to both ride him and grind closer to the lips that were wrapped around your clit.

Silco always ate you like he was trying to ruin you for anyone else, but this was more intense than anything you had experienced with him before. You didn’t remember when you had sank your hands into his hair, but it didn’t matter. You were using him only as an anchor; he never moved far enough away for you to need to pull him back.

At last, he removed himself from you, pulling away almost entirely. The only parts of his body that was touching you were his shoulders, still holding you spread open for him.

“Silco?” you asked, an edge of desperation clear in your voice.

“Shh, pet,” he soothed. “I am trying to decide whether you deserve the reward of coming on my tongue.”

You whined, lifting your hips as if you could convince him to come back.

“I am less than thrilled by your association with the Piltover business,” Silco admitted slowly. Torturously slowly. “Yet I suppose you may have earned a treat for coming to meet with me anyway. Is that correct?”

You nodded.

Silco leaned slightly closer. “You would not break our deal over a single donation from another business, would you?”

You shook your head.

Silco came even closer then - still not touching you, but near enough that you could feel every exhale on your damp folds. “Does our deal still stand, pet?”

You nodded, but Silco shook his head. “I need to hear it in that lovely voice. Tell me, darling: does our deal still stand?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, the dryness in your throat making it difficult to speak. “Yes!”

“Ahh…” he mused. “How long will it stand?”

He watched you with a gaze so sharp you understood instinctively that he would only accept a spoken answer. This one was more challenging; he hadn’t told you what he wanted you to say and thinking was difficult when your brain was soaked in hormones and arousal.

“Until- ah!” Silco had darted a long lick up your folds - not touching anything firmly enough to throw you over the edge, but still startling. And distracting. “As long as I’m in the Undercity.”

“Our deal will stand as long as you are in the Undercity,” Silco repeated. You nodded and he looked thoughtful. “I suppose I must offer sufficient incentive for you to stay, then.”

As if the shock of it removed you from the situation, you noted it dispassionately as he parted you a little more, nestled his nose against your clit, and thrust his stiffened tongue up inside of your heat.

And then the moment of observation passed. You were thrown back into your body just in time for it to go through an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body arced up off the desk again, muscles spasming so hard that you had the vague sense of Silco holding your hips against the surface so you didn’t throw yourself onto the floor.

But that was a dim knowledge, far in the background of your thoughts - the vast majority of your brain was caught in a stranglehold of pleasure. How could you be expected to lay still when every bit of you was crackling with such intense energy? You had to move. It was not possible to do anything else.

At last, Silco removed the live current that was his mouth against your core. He had to struggle against the grip you had on his hair. You weren’t really trying to keep him in place, but your muscles had locked down in the aftermath of your orgasm.

“How do you feel?” he asked conversationally, when he had freed himself from your grip, losing a few strands of hair in the process.

“Nnn umm…” Nope, those weren’t words. You tried again. “Needum mint.”

“Take your time,” Silco invited, relaxing back into his chair. He licked his lips, cleaning the shine of you from them with his tongue. Watching the process made your uncomfortably sensitive body tighten, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. When he had licked everything he could reach, Silco retrieved a handkerchief and wiped his mouth, chin, and cheeks.

If you were capable of higher thought at the moment, you might have been embarrassed by how much of a mess you had made on Silco’s face. Fortunately, the brain fog was still too dense, and you just watched him vacantly.

Rather than rush you into another round, Silco snagged a piece of paper from beside your hip. He lifted it and started to read. From the light that filtered through it from the window behind him, you could see that there were schematics of some kind drawn on the page. They were highly detailed, but something about the writing looked young, like it had been done by someone without fully developed fine motor function.

And then Silco’s fingers wrapped around your ankle and you stopped thinking about anything else. Especially when those fingers began to play idly against your skin, tapping an unfamiliar rhythm on your anklebone.

“How much more reading do you need to do?” you gritted out at last.

Silco glanced up at you instantly, eyebrows raised. “I can stop at any time, pet. I was under the impression that you needed a moment to recover.”

“I have recovered.”

“Why did you not tell me immediately?” Silco asked.

Despite the censurious words, he lazily tucked the schematics into a desk drawer before he stood. In a moment, he had opened the front of his trousers, pushed aside the layers of fabric, and lined himself up with you.

There was something almost sweet about the fact that Silco was so hard. He had brought you pleasure without being touched in return, and yet his erection hadn’t flagged while he sat quietly reading for minutes. For all that he was a selfish, manipulative bastard, Silco was surprisingly impacted by the way he affected you.

Any hints of altruism were shoved aside as Silco plunged inside of you. Rather than hesitating or asking if you were ready, he surged powerfully forward until he was seated as deep inside you as he could be. Your hips shifted to accommodate him and your legs trembled against the arms of his chair as you struggled to surface against the pressure of him stretching your walls.

Silco’s hands were tight on you. One was wrapped around your hips, providing an anchor point as he began to thrust in and out of you. His other hand was firmly on your ass, half-lifting and half-squeezing as he rolled his hips against you.

That rolling motion made your lips part for air as you stared up at the ceiling. Silco was big enough to fill you, but something about that motion put pressure against your walls in a way that felt almost cyclical. It was like he was fucking a little circle inside of you every time he pushed in, which meant that you got intermittent pressure against your g-spot. It was magical.

You tried to lift against him, to counter-thrust and speed things up, but Silco wasn’t having it. His grip was firm enough to hold you utterly still, making sure that all you could do was experience the way he was taking you apart for a second time.

“Silco, please,” you gasped out. “Faster. Harder. Please.”

“No,” he denied simply. Silco’s hand momentarily released your hip to grab your wrist instead. He tugged it downward until your fingers were brushing the throbbing place between your legs. “If you want your pleasure, you’ll have to take it.”

You were tempted to deny him and yourself, if only to prove that he wasn’t in charge of you, but the slight graze of your fingertip over your own clit made you squirm. But if you were going to be responsible for your own orgasm, you were damn well going to make sure that Silco helped.

With some effort, you lifted your legs from where they were still resting on the armrests of Silco’s chair. It took only a moment to wrap them around his waist, and when you tightened them, the pull was strong enough to force Silco forward against you.

When he had bottomed out inside of you, Silco’s grip shifted upward, pressing against the surface of the desk on either side of your hips to support the shift in his center of balance. His eyes widened, startled as you kept him close. You used your newfound freedom to thrust your hips, moving him and out of your core as you strummed at your clit.

The resulting sensations were enough to take you sailing over the edge again. This orgasm was less abrupt than the last one, but almost more satisfying because your inner muscles had something to lock down around.

Dimly, you registered that Silco was trying to withdraw from you, but couldn’t escape the grip of your leg muscles. You only understood his reasoning when his body stiffened, face tightening and growing slack as he reached his own peak.

Silco’s orgasms tended to be subtler than yours, but even his legendary poker face failed him. His expression tightened, then went slack as his body spasmed in a series of explosive surges. He hissed out a curse that sounded like half a prayer, his lips continuing to move long after he had stopped speaking loud enough for you to hear it.

Slowly, you let the tension seep from your leg muscles. When your feet were dangling toward the floor once more, Silco eased himself out of you. The first spill of your combined mess seeped directly onto the surface of Silco’s desk, but he cleaned it up and caught the next with the same cloth he had used to wipe his face earlier.

When Silco was seated in his chair once more, you took the cloth and held it in place as you slid down from the desk. Silco smiled wryly. “I never intend to make such a mess, but you are irresistible. Especially when you’ve wrapped me in those lovely legs. If I must be trapped, I will say that I prefer to be trapped in your embrace.”

“Flatterer,” you accused gently.

“It is a lovely benefit when the truth is flattering,” he replied, giving you a look you didn’t quite understand… until he added, “Now, pet, tell me how much I should write for the amount of my next donation check.”

You turned toward him with an irritated huff. “Are you still talking about this? I don’t need an extra donation from you, especially not when your motivation is simply to outdo someone you consider a threat.”

Silco’s lip curled. “I hardly consider those two boys to be a threat.”

“Then what is your problem with them supporting the Haven?”

“I dislike the idea of Piltover gaining a foothold here in Zaun,” Silco explained after a moment of thought. “Even if their influence is only over a small outreach. It could hinder the growth of Zaun’s independence.”

You bit back the irritation that rose at the Haven being referred to as a small outreach. It was a small outreach, of course, but it was so important in your life. It hurt to be reminded that your work was considered minor to other people.

“Fine,” you said instead of telling him any of that. “What are our options? I’m not telling you how much they donated.”

“Very well,” Silco said tightly. By all appearances, he was displeased with your insistence, but something about the look in his mismatched gaze gave you the distinct impression that he was getting something he had been angling for all day. “If you will not allow me to match HexTech’s donation amount, I would be willing to overlook their involvement in the Haven…”

“And what will it cost me?”

“I want to be part of the Undercity Innovation Committee.”

It took a beat for you to remember what that was. “Jazper’s group? No. Absolutely not.”

Silco watched you in silence. His brow creased and it was like watching a far-away storm building into something catastrophic.

“I have no control over that,” you expanded. “I can’t risk everything I’ve built - I can’t risk the Haven - to argue for you being part of the meetings.”

“And I would never ask you to,” Silco assured you smoothly. “I have other resources at play. All I need from you is not to argue against me being on the committee.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “So you don’t need me to fight for you? Just don’t tell them not to let you join?”

“Yes.”

It seemed simple. Almost too simple. And yet… it had been a long day. You could use some simplicity. “Fine, I agree to those terms. If someone else brings up the possibility of letting you join the committee, I won’t argue against it.”

“Perfect.” Silco took the end of your conversation as an opportunity to refasten his clothing, so you started to get dressed as well.

By the time you had finished, Silco was holding out a slip of paper toward you. You looked from it to his face, unwilling to accept an unknown item from him. He continued to offer it anyway.

“If I understand, your objections were not to me making a donation, but to me trying to make a larger donation than HexTech,” Silco explained. “I do not know how much they donated, but here is my offer.”

“Silco…” you lamented, arms still folded across your chest.

He lifted a brow. “If you prefer, I could resume trying to discover the HexTech donation amount…”

You sighed loudly so there could be no mistaking your irritation as you snatched the check from his hand. You didn’t look at the amount, but the way Silco grinned as you shoved it into your pocket didn’t seem promising.

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. I'll see you next month with another update!

Quick reminder: this story does take a lot of time and effort to write, edit, and format every month. At this point, we're up to roughly a 200-page book. I appreciate the likes that you guys give me, but reblogging my work is the only way new people can find it. I would really appreciate it if you would reblog not only my fics, but any fics you enjoy!

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honeyedmiller · 9 months ago

Text

Law of Attraction — Epilogue

series masterlist | previous chapter

rating: 18+, minors dni

word count: 2.7k

warnings: no outbreak au, professor!joel, plus size!reader, responsible alcohol consumption, a reunion, confessions of feelings (lots and lots of feelings), no use of y/n.

epilogue synopsis: a year later, you find yourself attending another criminal justice exposition, but everything’s different this time around.

a/n: this is it! thank you all so much for sticking with me through this lil series, even though the updates were super sporadic. thank you for giving my take on professor miller the love you did. i appreciate every single one of you. love u all. xoxo

divider by @saradika-graphics <3

You almost laughed when Margot told you where the upcoming criminal justice expo was being held this year.

The same exact hotel as last year, because apparently, attendance was at an all-time high and it got phenomenal feedback. This time, you were going because the forensics department you were in was invited as a whole unit, with Margot chosen to give a speech to represent the department.

You’d grown close with Margot the year that you’ve been back in California. Your job was amazing, you worked with a great team, and you were truly, genuinely happy for the first time in so long.

So much has changed within the year. You felt like you’d done a lot of growing as a person, figuring out who you are all while living your best life.

Joel had decided that he’d keep his distance for you, because you deserved to live your life and heal and not worry about him all the way back in Texas. You protested at first, but then steadily came to the realization that it truly was for the best.

That’s all he wanted for you—the best—and he couldn’t give that to you if he was just going to hold you back. Plus, a long distance thing would’ve just been too much for the both of you.

Distancing himself was for the best.

Doesn’t mean you didn’t miss him like hell. He’d texted you from time-to-time to see how the new job was, how you were settling into your apartment with Adrienne, how living in California was again. He cared, alot. More than he’d probably admit.

As the new semester started for Joel, the texts dwindled down into nothingness. It wasn’t intentional. You both were just busy, occupied people who had jobs to do.

Still doesn’t mean you didn’t think about him often.

You’d wonder what shirt he’d be wearing on a random Wednesday, if he drank one cup or two cups of coffee on a particularly grueling day, what music he’d listen to on his way to work.

You knew it would be best if you could just stop thinking about him in general, but it was hard. The man had a big impact on your life, even though things were more than okay between you two now. You just couldn’t shake him.

You had some pretty decent distractions, but at the end of the day it was just him. Joel, Joel, Joel.

Margot went over how the presentation was going to go at the expo, and luckily you didn’t need to do much talking. Or anything at all, really. Just smile and wave as you’re introduced, as Margot had put it.

The setup was exactly as you’d remembered it—a huge room with tables that showcased different areas of expertise in criminal justice, and a stage at the very front of the room with an open bar in the back.

A small, fond smile curls on your lips as you recall wearing that sophisticatedly sexy black number and Joel’s eyes as he ogled over you.

You were wearing a pale pink blouse this time with gray slacks and black heels. You couldn’t deny yourself of the proud feeling tugging in your tummy. A year ago, you wanted to be a pro. Now you are.

“Okay team,” Margot started, and all of you gave her your undivided attention. “Put these lanyards on. There’s forensics teams from all over Southern California today, so let’s represent Los Angeles and be on our best behavior.”

You laughed softly at Margot’s motherly side shining through. Your lanyard had the words Los Angeles PD Forensics Department with your name written below it, and Forensic Analyst below your name on a laminated card that was clipped at the bottom.

“Feels like a badge of honor bestowed on us.” Your coworker Brandon joked.

“Kinda does, huh?” You laugh along with him. Brandon started the same time you did, so you luckily weren’t thrown into the workforce alone. He’d become someone near and dear to you over the course of the past year.

Margot led you all toward your seats in front of the stage. More people filed into the room, experts from every which way coming up to introduce themselves. Chatter died down once everyone was settled and the speeches began. Each department head from different counties—Orange, Riverside, San Diego, San Bernardino—all gave their speeches and introduced their teams. Margot was last to go, thanking everyone for being able to make it out to the expo. She introduced you one-by-one, sporting shy smiles and humble waves to the crowd.

There had to be easily more than three hundred people in that room. Even waving hello was nerve wracking, so when Margot thanked everyone once more and wished them a good time, you were relieved when parties started to disperse into their respectable groups.

“Let’s get a drink. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a long night.” Brandon nudged you, and you happily obliged. You considered ordering a Mai Tai, a smile curling onto the corner of your lips at the thought. You opted for a single glass of Disarrono on the rocks.

You sipped generously on your drink as Brandon was in full swing of conversation with your other coworker, not paying much mind to what he was saying.

Your mind clouded with thoughts of last time. The way Joel looked at you, the way you felt under his burning gaze, the carnal need for him that settled into your bones, the things you did with him just fifteen floors above this one. A devastating wave of need and nostalgia washed over you in that moment.

”Helloooo?” Brandon waved his hand in front of your face, and you looked at him with threaded eyebrows. “Where are you, babe?” He asks, and you smile softly.

”I’m sorry. Just deep in thought, I guess.” You laugh it off, internally rolling your eyes at yourself.

Get. It. Together.

”Wanna talk about it?” He asks, resting a hand on your shoulder. You shake your head and sip your drink. The last thing you want to do is wallow in self pity.

“Well if you want to get your mind off of things, Mr. Hunk over there has been making eyes at you for some time now.” Brandon juts his chin over your shoulder with subtlety. You furrow your brows, turning around to lock eyes with a deep, familiar, warm gaze.

You freeze in place, not really believing your eyes at the moment. It felt like your mind was playing tricks on you, mainly because being here had memories of him and the little bits of bliss you indulged in together.

Your feet seemed to have a mind of their own as you made your way to him, meeting him halfway before stopping before his broad frame.

“Joel?” Your voice is nearly a whisper, impossible to hear over the loud chatter in the room. A small smile curls onto his lips as he looks at you with sincerity.

“Hi sweetheart.”

He looks a bit different. His hair is longer, the graying brown locks hanging over his forehead in soft curls that frame his handsome face. His matching stubble is a bit longer, probably from lack of shaving over the last few days. You spot the heart shaped patch amidst the gray, though, and you want to kiss it. You want to kiss him.

“What are you—” You start, but he shakes his head.

“They invited me back because I actually got a new job. ‘M gonna be a criminal law professor at UCLA starting this summer.” He says, and your eyebrows pinch together.

“Wait, so you’re moving to LA?” You ask, struggling to comprehend the news he just dropped on you.

He nods, a sheepish smile on his lips as he tries to gauge your reaction.

“That’s amazing, Joel, congrats on the job.” You grin up at him, trying to mask your excitement.

You didn’t exactly know where you stood with him, since so much had changed since the last time you physically saw him in person.

“Thank you.” His voice was soft amongst the chaos of others. You had so much you wanted to say, but the words just seemed to die on your tongue every time you opened and closed your mouth to speak.

“Wanna go talk somewhere more private?” He’s leaning toward your ear now so you can hear him better. He leans back and looks at you, a flash of uncertainty crossing his gaze. He was probably just as nervous as you were.

You nod at him and hold up a finger as you step back to your group, telling Brandon you were going to step out real quick. His eyes flickered between you and Joel, giving you an impressed nod.

You almost wanted to laugh, given that he had no clue about the history between you and Joel.

Margot didn’t have anything planned for the team until tomorrow, so it was a free-for-all kinda night. You downed the last of your drink for that quick spike of liquid courage, setting your glass onto the bar top before you were by Joel’s side again. He led you out of the expo with a hand on your lower back, not caring who saw anymore.

He didn’t want to hide anything anymore. He was ready to lay all of his cards down on the table, hoping you’d be willing to hear him out.

“I have a room here for the weekend—would you be comfortable talking in there? If not, we can—” Joel starts nervously, but you reach up and give his bicep a small squeeze of reassurance as you wait by the elevator.

“That’s fine Joel.” You smile at him, and you can see his shoulders visibly relax as he nods. The elevator dings, and you both step inside. You nearly want to laugh, hard, at how he pressed the ‘15’ button.

Total déjà vu settles into your bones, recalling the insane sexual tension between the two of you the last time you rode this elevator up to the fifteenth floor. You look at your reflections staring back at you, and you don't see desperate and needy in your gazes. You saw steadiness and growth.

He looks at you and gives you a small smile, a flash of I remember too, before the elevator comes to a full stop and opens its doors. He leads you to his room and unlocks the door, tossing the key card onto the entry table as you both shuffle into the room.

You didn’t know what to expect. You didn’t know if he wanted to just talk, wanted to talk and do more, or just do more.

“So,” He starts, scratching the back of his neck. “Wanna talk on the balcony?” He nods his head toward the spacious balcony with two seats and a small table outside.

Relief floods your body in an instant, grateful he only wants to talk. You grin at him and head toward the balcony, sliding the glass door open before stepping out into the California warmth. You take a seat across him him, heart racing in anticipation as your gaze meets his.

“First off, I wanna start by saying I’ve been doin’ a lot of reflecting this past year. Should’ve never put you through that situation darlin’, n’ for that I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s safe to say we’ve both moved past that part.” You try to keep your tone lighthearted, but Joel shakes his head.

“‘M sorry for what I did to ya. You’re a beautiful, smart, amazing woman n’ I took advantage of the situation. It was fucked up. Tess gave me an earful, believe me.” His smile is sad as he looks down at his hands folded in his lap.

“Why did you?” You meekly ask.

“I was scared of gettin’ hurt again. My ex fiancée wasn’t a good person. She cheated on me multiple times n’ gaslit me into thinking I was goin’ crazy, even if there were major red flags about her and her behavior. Didn’t see through any of the bullshit though, and I feel like I projected my bottled up hurt into what was going on between us. I can’t tell ya how sorry I am.”

“Why did you get so upset with me when I reminded you that I’m not her? I would never do such a thing to you.”

“I realize that now, baby. I guess I just got so upset that what she did was being thrown in my face, and it set me off. Listen,” He sighs, rubbing the crook of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, “I should’ve never let things get the way they did. Should’ve never proposed that stupid fuckin’ idea in the first place. I know it’s been a year n’ all, but I still want you, baby. I wanna be with you, show you off, and love you out loud like y’should’ve been all along.”

You still at his words. Love?

“Love?” Your voice echoes your thoughts in a whisper, staring at him doe-eyed and shocked.

“Yeah, baby. Love. Finally not a fuckin’ coward and can admit it. There’s no other woman like you. I wanna be with you, if you’ll have me.” The hopeful look in his eyes makes you want to cry.

“I don’t want to get hurt again, Joel.” The thought of getting your heart broken again was something you knew you couldn’t bear. The circumstances may be different this time around, but you’ve worked on yourself so much and—

He grabs your hands in his, bringing them up to his mouth so he can kiss your knuckles.

“I know. And I can promise you, from the depths of my very bein’, I’ll do everythin’ in my power to make you believe when I say I would never, ever hurt you again. It hurt me to see you like that, sweetheart. N’ knowin’ I did that? Absolutely fuckin’ killed me.”

“I forgive you, Joel. I’m–I’m willing to give this a go, but please, for the love of god, take care of my heart.”

“I promise, sweetheart.”

Joel kept that very promise. A year later and your relationship with him was stronger than ever. He showed you off unashamedly. Truthfully, you were worried at first about what people would think about the age difference between you two, but no one really bats an eye at that stuff in Los Angeles like they would back in Austin.

You got to experience the beautiful side of being loved by Joel Miller—soft, kind, attentive, insatiable. He was a man who was a jack of all trades when it came to being in a relationship, and you couldn’t have been happier with the leap of faith you chose to take a year ago.

He’s reminded you every day how beautiful you are, has loved on you and cherished you every day, and if you’d let him, would quite literally praise the ground you walked on.

He was all about you and he made you feel like the luckiest, sexiest woman alive.

You wish everyone could experience a love like this.

There were many bumps in the road, but it took all of that to get you to where you are now: incandescently happy and in love.

You look over at the gorgeous brown-eyed man who was tracing circles over your shins that were thrown over his lap, burying himself in papers he was grading—the very same paper he first helped you on that started this whole thing.

A soft smile spreads on your lips as you watch him intently, enjoying this little full-circle moment to yourself.

He furrows his brows, and with a slight pout to his lips, pushes his glasses up his nose before looking up to lock his gaze with yours. He gives you one of those soft smiles that makes your heart melt continuously. He squeezes your shin in reassurance, always needing to be touching you in one way or another.

He couldn’t get enough of you.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words slip easily past his lips, and you lean forward to give him a chaste kiss.

It might’ve been a force of pure attraction at first, but your heart formed around him.

He was yours, and you, his. This is how it was always meant to be, you think.

“I love you too, Joel.”

And you really do.

You always will.

tags: @ilovepedro ; @punkshort ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana ; @pamasaur ; @untamedheart81 ; @harriedandharassed ; @endlessthxxghts

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