#stop coming for my girl sara

[positivewlwvibes]

y'all talk about wanting complex female characters but you can't even handle sara myers

[pucksandpower]

Big Bad Wolf

Day 27 → Hunter/Prey 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content and Jos Verstappen

Kinktober Masterlist

You sit on the edge of your bed, fingers nervously twisting the hem of your dress. The laughter and chatter from the other girls preparing fills the small room, but it only makes your heart pound harder. The scent of pine and earth wafts through the cracked window, mingling with the sharp tang of nerves and excitement.

Tonight is the night. Your first run.

“Are you ready?” The question comes from Emma, sitting at the mirror across from you. Her voice is steady, calm. Of course it is. She’s been through this twice already and hasn’t been chosen. Tonight’s her third, and the final chance. She looks at you through the mirror, her eyes soft with understanding. “I was terrified the first time too.”

You shake your head quickly. “I’m not terrified,” you mutter, even though the words sound like a lie as soon as they leave your mouth. “Just … nervous.”

Emma lets out a laugh, light but knowing. “Nervous is just another word for terrified when it comes to the run. Everyone is. Even if they don’t admit it.”

Across the room, Sara slips on her shoes, her lips pulling into a smirk. “Some of us aren’t scared at all,” she says, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a practiced motion. “Some of us are ready for whatever the night brings.”

Emma rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but smile. Sara’s been talking nonstop about how this is her year, how she can feel it. She’s been practicing for this night as long as anyone can remember, and her confidence is nearly contagious.

“Not everyone can be the next Alpha’s mate, Sara,” Emma says, rising to adjust her dress. “Some of us are just trying to make it through without tripping over our own feet.”

Sara gives Emma a playful shove. “Hey, speak for yourself. The run is all about instinct. If you trip, maybe it’s just the universe’s way of telling you you’re not cut out for this.” She throws you a glance, her smile softening. “But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just … stay out of my way.”

You let out a breath, trying to relax the tightness in your chest. “I don’t think you need to worry about me being competition,” you say with a wry smile.

Sara shrugs. “Hey, you never know. There’s always a chance.”

Emma shoots you a reassuring look before slipping her hand into yours, squeezing briefly. “You’ll be fine. You just have to breathe and trust yourself. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about being you.”

The sentiment is nice, but it does little to calm the storm of emotions inside you. Everyone here has been through it before — at least once. You’re the newcomer, the one who’s never run, who’s never had to face the possibility of being chosen — or worse, not chosen.

“You’re gonna do great,” Emma says again, as if saying it enough times will make it true.

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself,” you admit quietly, your hands fiddling with the laces on your boots. The soft leather feels grounding beneath your fingers, but it does little to stop the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

“You won’t,” Emma assures. “Trust me, it’s not as bad as it seems. Sure, you’re gonna be running for your life, but … y’know, in a romantic way.”

Sara snorts from across the room. “That’s one way to put it.”

Emma glares at her. “What? It’s true! It’s about the chase, about the excitement. That’s what makes it so exhilarating.”

“But it’s also about who’s chasing you,” Sara adds, leaning against the wall with a smug smile. “You know the males are going to be out in full force this time. The rumors about Max have everyone on edge. Every girl out there tonight is going to be hoping to catch his eye.”

Your stomach twists at the mention of his name. Max. The future Alpha. The one everyone’s talking about. The one everyone wants.

Emma’s expression softens as she notices your reaction. “Don’t worry about him,” she says quietly. “You’re not out there for Max. You’re out there for you. Just … focus on the run. Focus on the moment.”

But how can you not think about him? How can you not feel the weight of his presence, even though he’s nowhere near? Max has always been in the background of your thoughts — unreachable, untouchable. He’s the future of the pack, the one every girl dreams of, even if she pretends not to. And tonight, for the first time, you’ll be running with the possibility of crossing paths with him.

“Max doesn’t even know who I am,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but Emma hears it.

“He doesn’t need to,” she replies softly. “It’s not about that.”

Sara’s smile grows wider, more self-assured. “Well, he’s gonna know my name after tonight.”

The room falls into a brief silence as you all continue to get ready. The weight of the night ahead presses down on you, and the laughter that fills the space seems to grow quieter as the minutes tick by.

You stand up, adjusting the hem of your dress, trying to steady your breathing. The forest is calling, the run is calling. This is the moment you’ve been preparing for your whole life, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

Emma stands beside you, offering a smile that’s meant to calm you, but it only heightens your awareness of what’s about to happen. “We should head down,” she says. “It’s almost time.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest as you follow her out the door, Sara leading the way with her head held high. The packhouse is bustling with activity as girls from all corners of the pack gather, excitement buzzing in the air like electricity. You weave through the familiar faces, feeling the weight of each glance that lands on you.

As you reach the edge of the forest, the moonlight filters through the trees, casting everything in an ethereal glow. You can hear the whispers of the pack, the murmurs of anticipation, the rustle of leaves beneath boots. The males are out there, somewhere, waiting.

You feel Emma slip her arm through yours. “Just remember,” she says quietly, her voice soft against the noise of the crowd, “It’s not about them. It’s about you.”

A loud howl echoes through the trees, signaling the start. The sound is like a jolt of electricity through the group, and the girls around you tense, their postures straightening. It’s time.

The scent of the forest is strong, filling your lungs as you take a deep breath. Every instinct in your body tells you to run, to move, to go.

Sara glances over her shoulder, a playful grin on her face. “Catch me if you can,” she teases, before sprinting off into the trees, her laughter echoing behind her.

Emma gives you one last look, her eyes filled with encouragement. “Just run,” she says softly. “Don’t think. Just run.”

And then she’s gone too, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

You stand there for a moment, frozen, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The run has begun. The chase has begun. The thrill of it pulls at you, your heart hammering in your chest.

Then, with one last breath, you push off from the ground and run.

The forest swallows you whole.

***

Max stands in front of the mirror, rolling his shoulders and adjusting the collar of his jacket. The reflection staring back at him is stern, cold, and unreadable. It’s the face of an Alpha-to-be, someone expected to lead, to dominate, to find a mate tonight and secure the future of the pack. But behind his composed expression, there’s an undercurrent of restlessness. Another run. Another chance to find a mate. Another night where he’s likely to be disappointed.

His fingers trace the rough scars on his hands from years of training, running, fighting. He’s done everything expected of him, worked harder than anyone in the pack, pushed himself beyond what was necessary. But none of that has made this process any easier. No one has caught his interest.

His father’s voice cuts through the silence, and Max doesn’t need to turn to know Jos has entered the room. The old Alpha’s presence is unmistakable, a heavy, oppressive energy that has always suffocated Max. Jos doesn’t need to say much to convey his disappointment, his impatience, his expectations.

“You’re ready?” Jos asks, though it’s not really a question. It’s a demand.

Max doesn’t turn from the mirror. “I’m always ready.”

“Good. You need to be.”

Jos steps into view, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid. Everything about him screams control, dominance, power — the kind that’s forced, the kind that Max has always despised. Jos has led the pack with an iron fist, and he expects Max to do the same when the time comes.

“You’ve let too many runs pass without finding her,” Jos says, his tone low, but laced with warning. “It’s time. Tonight is the night.”

Max clenches his jaw. He’s heard this speech before, every year. “I won’t choose someone just to choose,” he says firmly, his voice colder than he intends. “I need to feel it.”

Jos scoffs, the sound filled with disdain. “Feel it? You’re the Alpha. You don’t need to feel anything. You need to decide. This is about the pack, not your emotions.”

Max turns to face his father, his blue eyes flashing with irritation. “I won’t be tied to someone I don’t want. The pack will suffer if I choose the wrong mate.”

Jos’ eyes narrow, his lips curling into a sneer. “The pack suffers every day you remain unmated. Do you think they respect you more for dragging this out? Do you think they see strength in your indecision?”

Max doesn’t answer. He knows his father’s not entirely wrong — there’s been talk, whispers about why Max, the pack’s future leader, has yet to find a mate. The runs are supposed to be about instinct, about connection, about claiming. But Max has never felt it. Not once.

“Max,” Jos says sharply, stepping closer, his voice lowering into something more dangerous. “You are expected to lead. You are expected to find a mate, and tonight, you will. I don’t care who it is. Just make the choice. You’re not a pup anymore.”

Max meets his father’s gaze, holding it, the tension crackling between them like a live wire. This is the dance they’ve always done — Max pushing back, Jos demanding more. It’s been this way since Max was old enough to understand what being Alpha meant.

“Why do you care so much?” Max mutters, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. “What difference does it make if it’s this year or next?”

Jos’ eyes darken, and for a moment, Max wonders if his father will lash out. But Jos simply lets out a slow, deliberate breath, his expression hardening into something colder, more calculated.

“Because the pack needs stability,” Jos says, his voice clipped. “They need to know that you can make decisions, that you have control. Right now, you look weak. Indecisive. And if you don’t find someone tonight, they’ll start looking for that stability elsewhere.”

Max knows what his father’s implying. He’s been aware of the murmurs within the pack — those who question if Max is fit to lead, if his hesitation means he’s not strong enough to be Alpha. His father has always used fear and control to keep the pack in line, and Max can see now that Jos expects him to do the same.

But Max won’t be like his father. He can’t.

“I’ll find her when the time’s right,” Max says evenly. “Not when you decide it’s convenient.”

Jos lets out a derisive laugh, shaking his head. “You sound like a fool. This isn’t about fate or some fairytale. You’re the Alpha. You take what you want.”

Max’s chest tightens at the words. It’s never been that simple for him. The bond he’s searching for, the connection he craves, is something more. It’s not just about the run, the hunt. It’s about finding someone who challenges him, who understands him, who makes him feel something more than the empty duty that has been drilled into him for years.

“Tonight,” Jos says again, his voice sharp with finality. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Max doesn’t respond, and after a moment, his father turns and leaves the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence that follows is heavy, suffocating. Max stands there for a moment, staring at the empty space where his father stood, his fists clenched at his sides.

He knows what’s expected of him. He knows what the pack needs. But he also knows that he can’t — won’t — settle.

The run. It’s always the same, always a rush of bodies through the forest, the scent of pine and damp earth filling the air, the thrill of the chase. And every year, Max has found himself watching, waiting, hoping for something to shift inside him. But nothing ever does. None of the females have ever sparked anything in him, no matter how fast they run, no matter how close they come.

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to shake the thoughts loose. Tonight is different, though. He can feel it — an itch beneath his skin, a restlessness that’s been building for weeks. Something is coming. He doesn’t know what, but it’s there, just out of reach.

Max steps away from the mirror, grabbing his jacket and slipping it on, the leather molding to his form like a second skin. The pack is already gathering outside, the air buzzing with anticipation. He can feel the energy of the night crackling around him, the promise of the run vibrating through his bones.

He pushes open the door and steps out into the night. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. The other males are scattered throughout the clearing, their eyes gleaming with excitement. They’ve all been waiting for this. The hunt. The chase. The chance to claim.

Max moves through the crowd, his presence commanding attention without him saying a word. He doesn’t need to assert himself. The others know who he is. They know he’s the one they all look to, even if they don’t say it aloud.

“You think this is the night, Max?” One of the males, Daniel, calls out, a sly grin on his face. “You gonna finally pick someone?”

Max gives him a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth lifting in a humorless smile. “We’ll see.”

Daniel laughs, clapping Max on the shoulder. “Well, here’s hoping. The girls are looking better every year, aren’t they?”

Max doesn’t respond, his attention already shifting toward the edge of the clearing, where the females are beginning to gather. The energy around them is palpable, their excitement radiating into the night air. He can feel it — the pull, the tension, the unspoken anticipation of the chase.

The females are lined up, their gazes flickering between the males, their bodies taut with nerves and eagerness. Max’s eyes scan the group, searching, waiting for something — anything — to catch his attention. But as he watches them, that familiar feeling creeps in. The same sense of detachment, of distance.

None of them stir anything inside him. Not yet.

The pack elder steps forward, raising his hands to signal the start of the run. The air grows still, everyone poised on the edge of movement, waiting for the signal. Max tenses, his body ready, his senses sharp.

The elder’s voice booms through the clearing. “Let the hunt begin!”

In an instant, the females scatter, sprinting into the forest, their laughter and shouts echoing in the trees. The males are quick to follow, their bodies shifting, muscles coiling as they take off after them.

Max doesn’t move right away. He stands at the edge of the clearing, watching the others disappear into the woods, his heart thudding in his chest. He feels it — the pull, the instinct to chase, to claim, to find.

But something holds him back. Something feels different tonight.

And then, he catches a scent. Faint, barely there, but unmistakable. It cuts through the night air like a thread of warmth, pulling at him in a way he’s never felt before. His muscles tense, and for a moment, he’s frozen.

You.

Without another thought, Max takes off into the forest.

***

The wind rushes past your ears as you weave through the trees, your feet light on the forest floor. The moonlight filters through the canopy, casting dappled shadows across your path.

You run, but not with any real urgency. At first, it feels more like a game, something you’ve watched from the sidelines for years but never truly been part of. The thrill of the run is there, but muted, like you’re waiting for something to shift, something to make your heart race for real.

You laugh to yourself, feeling a bit of the tension from earlier melt away. The other girls had sprinted into the forest as if their lives depended on it, but you aren’t so sure. You’ve heard the stories of what happens during the run — the wild, frenzied chase, the heat of the hunt — but none of it seems real to you yet. Right now, it just feels like a midnight run through the woods.

You slow down slightly, breathing in the cool, earthy air, letting it fill your lungs. The scents of pine and damp leaves swirl around you, grounding you in the moment. There’s no need to rush. You know there’s a time limit, but the males will be busy chasing the faster girls first. You’re not on anyone’s radar, and that’s fine by you.

Ahead, the trees thin slightly, and you pick up your pace just enough to reach a small clearing. It’s quiet here, the distant sounds of the run — footsteps, laughter, shouts — fading into the background. You stand there for a moment, catching your breath, letting yourself soak in the stillness of the night.

“This isn’t so bad,” you whisper to yourself, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face. You can still feel the remnants of nerves, but they’ve settled now, replaced by something calmer. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting to see the others, but there’s no one. The forest is empty.

You think about what Emma had said — about running for yourself, not for them. Maybe she was right. Maybe this doesn’t have to be about being chased or caught. Maybe this can just be your moment to feel free.

But then you feel it.

It’s subtle at first, just a prickle at the back of your neck, like the sensation of being watched. You pause, your heartbeat picking up slightly as you turn in a slow circle, scanning the trees around you. The clearing is still empty, but the hairs on your arms stand on end. There’s something out there. You can’t see it, but you can feel it.

You swallow, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “Okay, I get it. It’s a mating run. I’m supposed to feel like this.” But your own voice does little to settle the sudden unease creeping into your chest.

For the first time, the run doesn’t feel like a game anymore. There’s a shift in the air, something heavier, something more dangerous.

You take a step backward, your eyes darting to the shadows between the trees. “Hello?” You call, half-joking, half-hoping for a response. Silence answers you, but that feeling — being watched — grows stronger.

Another step back. This time, your heart skips a beat. You turn sharply, scanning the edge of the clearing again. Nothing.

Maybe you’re just imagining it. Maybe your nerves are playing tricks on you.

You shake your head and take a deep breath. “Relax,” you whisper to yourself. “You’re fine. It’s just the forest.”

But your body doesn’t listen. Every instinct is telling you to move, to run, to go.

You try to ignore it, taking another step forward, but that’s when you hear it. The faintest crack of a branch behind you.

You freeze. The forest, which had seemed so peaceful moments ago, now feels alive with danger. The prickle on the back of your neck is now a full-on chill running down your spine.

Someone’s there.

Without thinking, you bolt.

Your feet hit the ground hard, faster than before, your body moving on instinct now. The easy, leisurely run from earlier is gone, replaced by something wild, something urgent. Your pulse pounds in your ears as you sprint through the trees, your breath coming in quick, sharp bursts.

You don’t know who’s out there — whether it’s one of the males from the pack or something else entirely — but you can feel them. You can feel the weight of their gaze, the way they’re tracking you, following your every movement.

Your heart races as you dart around a thick trunk, the sound of your footfalls blending with the rustling of the leaves overhead. The forest blurs around you as you push yourself faster, harder. You don’t look back. You can’t. You just have to keep moving, keep running.

But they’re getting closer.

The trees are a blur now, your muscles burning as you force your legs to move. You can hear them behind you — the faint, almost inaudible sound of footsteps, the crack of branches, the soft rustle of leaves as someone — something — moves through the forest with a precision that makes your heart race even faster.

Whoever they are, they’re faster than you.

You veer off to the right, trying to lose them in the thick undergrowth, but it doesn’t matter. They’re gaining on you. You can feel it.

A low growl rumbles through the air, and your stomach flips. You push yourself harder, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps. Every step feels heavier, the weight of the chase pressing down on you, making your legs ache with the effort.

And then, suddenly, the ground gives way beneath you.

You stumble, your foot catching on a root hidden beneath the leaves, and before you can catch yourself, you’re falling. You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring through your bones as you roll to a stop at the base of a large tree.

Dazed, you blink up at the canopy of branches overhead, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The world spins for a moment, and you try to push yourself up, but your body feels sluggish, weak.

It’s too late.

Before you can even think about getting to your feet, you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist, pulling you up off the ground in one swift motion. A startled gasp escapes your lips as you’re lifted effortlessly, your back pressed against something solid — someone solid.

For a moment, you can’t breathe. The world narrows to the feeling of their body against yours, the heat radiating off them in waves. The scent of pine and earth fills your senses, stronger now, more potent, and you know without a doubt that this is no ordinary chase.

A voice, deep and rough, growls in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Got you.”

You freeze, your body going rigid in their grasp as the words sink in. The voice is low, commanding, filled with an authority that makes your heart stutter. Whoever this is, they’re not just some random male from the pack. This is something else entirely.

For a moment, neither of you move. The forest seems to hold its breath, the sounds of the chase fading away, leaving only the pounding of your heart and the sound of your ragged breaths. You try to think, try to process what’s happening, but your mind is a blur of confusion and adrenaline.

“Let me go,” you manage to gasp, though your voice is weak, trembling.

They chuckle softly, the sound vibrating through their chest and into your back. “You’re not in a position to make demands.”

Your pulse quickens as you feel their grip tighten slightly, just enough to remind you that they’re in control, that you’re at their mercy.

Your mind races, trying to come up with a plan, something to get you out of this, but there’s no use. They’re stronger, faster, and right now, you’re trapped.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” they say, their voice softer now, though no less commanding. “But I’m not letting you go either.”

You swallow hard, your breath hitching in your throat. This isn’t how you imagined the run would go. You never expected to be caught so quickly, so easily. And you certainly didn’t expect the one chasing you to be … this.

You feel their breath against your neck, warm and steady, as they lean in slightly. “Run all you want,” they murmur, their voice sending a shiver down your spine. “But I’ll always catch you.”

Your heart races, your mind reeling as you try to make sense of the situation. But there’s no time to think, no time to process what’s happening.

You’re caught.

And there’s no escaping now.

***

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as the figure behind you tightens their hold. The warmth of their body presses against your back, strong and unyielding. Every inch of you is tense, muscles coiled like a spring. You don’t dare move, barely able to think beyond the pounding of your pulse in your ears.

His hand slides from your waist to your shoulder, and before you can even process the movement, he spins you around. The world blurs for a second, the shadows of the forest twisting into one another, until your back hits the rough bark of a tree.

You look up — straight into the wild, burning eyes of Max Verstappen.

Your stomach drops.

Max.

Max caught you.

You’ve seen Max a thousand times before — calm, controlled, his power coiled tightly behind those cold blue eyes. But this? This is something else entirely. His eyes are dark, almost feral, like something untamed has been let loose inside him. His usual stoic expression is nowhere to be found, replaced by a snarl that twists his lips, a deep growl rumbling from his chest.

You’ve never seen him like this. You never even thought it was possible.

“Max-” His name comes out as a breathless whisper, but the second the sound reaches him, his snarl deepens, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he pushes you harder against the tree. You can feel the rough bark biting into your back, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the heat radiating from him, the way his gaze pins you in place.

“Mine.” His voice is low, guttural, barely recognizable as the Max you’ve known for years. “You’re mine.”

You blink up at him, your heart racing. “What are you-”

But before you can finish the sentence, Max lowers his head, burying his face in the curve of your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, and the scent of him — earthy, primal — fills your senses. You can feel him trembling, his entire body vibrating with some barely contained need, as if he’s fighting to hold himself back.

“Max,” you manage, your voice shaky. “What are you doing?”

His hands grip your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his chest pressing against yours. The growl that comes from him is so deep it vibrates through your body. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Your mind is spinning, trying to make sense of what’s happening. “Get what?”

“I’ve waited for this,” he growls, his lips brushing your skin. “For you.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You? Max has waited for you? The words don’t make sense, not with the way he’s always been distant, cold, focused on his role as Alpha-in-waiting. You never imagined-

“Mate,” Max says, his voice rough and thick with a possessiveness you’ve never heard before. “You’re my mate.”

The world seems to tilt on its axis, everything around you narrowing to just him — his body pressed against yours, his breath hot on your neck, the word mate hanging in the air like a spell.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head, though your body betrays you, leaning into his touch despite your confusion. “That’s not-”

But your words die in your throat when you feel his lips brush over the sensitive spot on your neck — your mating gland. His mouth hovers there for a second, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps, and suddenly, you realize what he’s about to do.

“Max, wait-” you gasp, but it’s too late.

With a low, primal growl, Max sinks his teeth into the tender skin of your neck, biting down hard.

The moment his teeth break the surface, the world explodes.

A shockwave of heat and sensation pulses through your entire body, starting from the point of contact and radiating outward, like a fire igniting inside you. Your vision blurs, your breath catching in your throat as the bond begins to form, snapping into place with a force that leaves you dizzy.

It’s overwhelming, like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Half of the bond, the part that Max has just claimed, roars to life, flooding your senses with an overwhelming need. Your body reacts instinctively, pressing closer to him, needing more — more of him, more of this connection, more of everything.

You can feel his emotions now — raw, intense, and powerful. There’s hunger, desire, possession, all wrapped up in a fierce need to protect. But beneath it all, there’s something deeper, something softer, almost vulnerable.

He’s waited for you.

The thought is dizzying, impossible to fully grasp, but there’s no denying it now. The bond is real, and it’s pulling at you, drawing you into him like a force of nature.

Max pulls back slightly, his mouth leaving your skin but staying close enough that you can feel his breath, warm and ragged, against your neck. His eyes are wild when he looks at you, dark with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “Mine,” he growls again, his voice low, possessive.

You should be angry. You should be scared, maybe. But you’re not. Instead, the only thing you feel is the need to complete the bond, to claim him as yours just as he’s claimed you.

Your body moves before your mind can catch up. You grab him by the shoulders, pulling him closer, and he growls in approval, his hands sliding down to grip your waist. You can feel the strength in his fingers, the way he holds you like you’re something precious and breakable, but also like he’ll never let go.

“Max,” you whisper, your voice shaky, filled with the same need that’s been coursing through him. “I-I need-”

You can’t finish the sentence, but you don’t have to. Max’s eyes darken, his jaw clenched tight as he watches you, waiting for you to make the move.

And then, you do.

You don’t think. You just act, leaning in and sinking your teeth into his neck, right where his mating gland is. The second your teeth break the skin, the bond snaps into place completely.

The world shifts.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced — waves of emotion crashing into you, one after the other, until you’re drowning in it. The connection between you and Max flares to life, and suddenly, you can feel everything. His desire, his possessiveness, his need for you, but also something deeper — something softer. There’s a fierce protectiveness in him, an unwavering determination to keep you safe, to claim you not just because he’s supposed to, but because he wants to.

It’s intoxicating, the way the bond pulls at you, flooding your senses with heat and need. You can feel Max’s pulse racing beneath your lips, matching the frantic rhythm of your own heart, and it only makes you want him more.

He growls low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as you bite down harder, completing the bond. His entire body tenses, a shudder running through him, and you can feel the shift in him, the way the bond affects him just as much as it affects you.

When you finally pull back, gasping for breath, Max is staring at you with a look so intense it sends a shiver down your spine. His blue eyes are dark, his pupils blown wide, and there’s a wildness in him that hasn’t diminished, even with the bond in place.

“Now you get it,” he says, his voice rough and low. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver through you. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

The words are a promise, a claim, but there’s something else there too — something deeper. The bond may have snapped into place like a chain locking around you both, but it’s more than that. It’s a connection, a tether that pulls you together in a way you never expected, never even thought possible.

You swallow, still trying to catch your breath, your mind racing. The bond is overwhelming, but it feels right — like something inside you has finally clicked into place, something you didn’t even know you were missing.

“I-” You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat. You don’t know how to explain what you’re feeling, how to put it into words.

But Max seems to understand. He presses his forehead against yours, his breath still ragged, his body trembling slightly as he tries to control the raw emotions coursing through him. “I know,” he says, his voice softer now, but still filled with that same intensity. “I feel it too.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and for a moment, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you — connected, bound, and inseparable.

The run, the chase, everything that led to this moment — it all falls away, leaving only the undeniable truth.

You’re his. And he’s yours.

The world is still spinning from the intensity of the bond, every sense heightened, every nerve alight with sensation. You feel like your body is on fire, a primal need pulsing through your veins, a need you’ve never experienced before. Max’s forehead is still pressed to yours, his breath warm against your skin as he holds you close, his hands firm on your waist.

But the bond isn’t done.

It’s there between you, humming with energy, demanding more — more of him, more of this connection. You feel it in every fiber of your being, a pull so powerful you can’t ignore it. And neither can Max.

His hand moves from your waist to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as his breathing deepens. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated as he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. The feral look from before hasn’t left him — it’s only deepened. There’s a hunger in his eyes, raw and untamed, and you can feel it reflected in your own.

Max’s voice is low, almost a growl. “I’m not done with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. There’s no mistaking his meaning. The bond, the bite — it was only the beginning. The weight of what’s about to happen hangs in the air between you, thick and charged with tension. You should feel embarrassed, maybe even shy, but all you can think about is him — how badly you need him, how badly you want him to complete what he’s started.

He watches you closely, waiting for any sign of hesitation, but you don’t give him one. Instead, you reach for him, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, wordlessly giving him permission. The bond hums in approval, urging you both forward, pulling you together like a force of nature.

That’s all the confirmation Max needs.

Without warning, he tears at the fabric of your dress, the sound of it ripping in half echoing through the forest. Your breath hitches, heat flooding your cheeks as the cool night air hits your skin, but you don’t stop him. You can’t. The need coursing through your veins is too strong, too overwhelming.

Max wastes no time, his own shirt following your dress in a shredded heap on the forest floor. His hands are everywhere — on your skin, in your hair, gripping you as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His touch is firm, possessive, and it sends a shiver down your spine, every inch of you alive with sensation.

His lips crash into yours, hot and demanding, as he pulls you closer, his body pressing against yours. You feel his heat, the hard planes of his chest against your own, and it only stokes the fire inside you, making the bond between you thrum with even more intensity. The forest around you fades away, the sounds of the night swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears, the frantic beating of your heart.

Your hands fumble with the waistband of his pants, and he growls low in his throat, his hands moving to help you, tearing them off with a speed and strength that leaves you breathless. His hands, large and rough, move down your body, and then, with a swift motion, your panties are gone too, discarded somewhere in the forest.

You’re both bare now, the night air cool against your heated skin, but it barely registers. All you can focus on is him — on Max and the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters. There’s no hesitation in him, no shame. He’s completely unbothered by the fact that you’re standing there, naked and vulnerable, in the middle of the woods. He doesn’t care who might find you, doesn’t care about anything except you.

But you can’t help it — you feel a flicker of embarrassment, heat rushing to your face. You try to cover yourself, but Max catches your wrists, pulling your hands away, his eyes locked on yours.

“Don’t,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “You’re perfect.”

His words send a rush of warmth through you, and before you can respond, Max lowers you down onto the forest floor, his body hovering over yours, his weight a comforting presence. The ground is cool beneath you, but Max is anything but. His skin is hot, his muscles tense with barely restrained control, as if he’s holding himself back, waiting for you to say something, to give him the final permission to take what’s his.

Your heart races as you look up at him, his blue eyes burning with need, the wildness still lingering in his gaze. You don’t have to say anything. The bond between you speaks for itself.

“Max,” you whisper, breathless, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low, rumbling growl. “I’m going to make you mine.”

And then he does.

Max moves with a slow, deliberate intensity, his hands gripping your hips as he enters you, filling you completely. The bond between you flares, snapping into place with a finality that leaves you gasping for breath. The connection is deeper now, more than just physical — it’s emotional, spiritual, a melding of souls that leaves you trembling beneath him.

Every movement sends a wave of pleasure through you, your body arching into his as he moves above you, his pace steady and controlled, but filled with the same raw intensity that’s been there from the start. You can feel his need, his desire, but there’s something more — something deeper that pulses through the bond.

His hands grip you tighter, his body pressing you harder into the earth as he claims you completely. There’s no gentleness here, no hesitation. This is primal, animalistic, a raw expression of the bond between you, and it’s everything you didn’t know you needed.

Max leans down, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss, his breath hot and ragged as he deepens the connection between you. You’re lost in him, in the feeling of him, in the way the bond pulls you together with every thrust, every touch. Your hands find his back, your nails digging into his skin as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, the bond between you tightening with every second.

“I’ve waited for this,” Max growls against your lips, his voice rough and filled with emotion. “You’re mine now.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and all you can do is nod, your body trembling beneath him as the bond reaches its peak, the connection between you solidifying in a way that leaves you breathless.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

“I’m yours,” you whisper, your voice shaky but filled with truth. “I’m yours, Max.”

The bond flares, and suddenly, everything snaps into place. Your body arches, your breath catching in your throat as the final piece of the bond falls into place, locking you and Max together in a way that feels unbreakable, eternal.

Max groans, his grip on you tightening as he follows you over the edge, his body shuddering above you as the bond completes fully, sealing you to him in a way that leaves you both breathless and trembling.

For a long moment, the only sound is the ragged breathing between the two of you, the forest around you forgotten. Max’s weight is heavy on top of you, grounding you in the moment, in the reality of what just happened.

You’re his. And he’s yours.

Finally, Max pulls back slightly, his body still pressed against yours as he looks down at you, his blue eyes softening just a little. There’s still a wildness there, still that possessiveness, but there’s something else now — something gentler, more protective.

He leans down, brushing a kiss against your forehead, and you can feel the bond between you humming with contentment.

“Mine,” he whispers again, but this time, there’s no growl, just a quiet certainty.

You don’t have to respond. He knows.

For a moment, the two of you lie there, tangled together, the cool night air brushing against your heated skin. The bond between you is strong, solid, and you can feel it thrumming with life, with energy, as if it’s still settling into place.

But then, Max moves, slowly pushing himself up and off of you. He stands, completely unbothered by his nakedness, his body still radiating that same confidence and control that he always carries with him. You, on the other hand, feel the flush of embarrassment creeping up again, the reality of the situation hitting you.

You’re both completely naked in the middle of the forest.

Max doesn’t seem to care. He bends down, scooping you up into his arms with ease, holding you close to his chest as if you weigh nothing at all. His eyes are on you, filled with pride and something that looks like satisfaction, but there’s no shame, no embarrassment. He’s triumphant.

You, however, feel your face heat as you instinctively try to cover yourself, but Max’s arms hold you firmly against him.

“Max,” you whisper, your voice filled with mortification. “We’re not wearing anything.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest. “I know.”

He starts walking, carrying you effortlessly through the trees, heading back toward the pack house. You can’t help but bury your face in his chest, trying to hide your embarrassment as the reality of what’s about to happen sinks in.

Everyone will see. Everyone will know.

But Max doesn’t care. He’s proud. You’re his mate, and he’s going to show the world.

***

Max strides through the forest, each step deliberate, his arms cradling you against his chest as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t bother hiding the satisfied smirk that pulls at his lips — he’s found his mate, and he knows it. He can feel the bond humming between the two of you, powerful and undeniable.

The night air is cool, brushing against both of your bare skin, but Max is too focused to care. You, however, squirm slightly, the awareness of your nudity heightening as the sounds of the pack grow louder in the distance.

“Max,” you murmur, glancing up at him, your voice filled with uncertainty.

He doesn’t even look down, his eyes fixed ahead, laser-focused on the clearing where the rest of the pack waits. “Don’t hide,” he says, his voice low, but firm. “They need to see.”

You swallow hard, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks again. It’s one thing to be with Max like this, alone in the forest, but the thought of everyone else seeing you — seeing both of you — sends a wave of embarrassment through you. But Max is unmoved. His grip on you tightens, his arm like iron around your waist as he walks with purpose, unashamed.

The clearing comes into view, the faint glow of firelight illuminating the figures waiting there. The non-participating pack members are gathered, eager to see who’s returning with whom. A hush falls over the group as they catch sight of Max emerging from the treeline, his broad frame unmistakable even in the dim light. He carries you as if you weigh nothing, his steps sure and unhurried, his pride palpable.

A murmur ripples through the crowd as they realize what’s happened. Max Verstappen, their Alpha-in-waiting, has finally found his mate.

Max’s chest swells with pride, and without warning, he throws his head back and lets out a deep, resonating roar that echoes through the clearing. It’s a primal sound, one of triumph, of victory, and it sends a shiver down your spine. His voice reverberates through the air, silencing the crowd as they stand in awe of their future leader.

The reaction is immediate.

Cheers erupt from the pack, a cacophony of hoots, hollers, and whistles. They all know what this means — Max has chosen. He’s claimed his mate, and now, there’s no turning back. The weight of the moment is heavy in the air, but Max takes it all in stride, his posture confident, his gaze sweeping over the gathered wolves like a king surveying his subjects.

You, on the other hand, feel your cheeks flush with heat as all eyes turn to you. Instinctively, you try to shield yourself, your arms moving to cover your exposed body. But Max is having none of it. He shifts you in his arms, catching your wrists in his large hands and holding them firmly against his chest.

“Max, please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the noise of the pack.

He leans down slightly, his breath hot against your ear. “I said don’t hide.”

His words are not a request — they’re an order. And though a part of you wants to disappear into the forest again, another part of you can’t help but feel the power of his command, the certainty in his voice. He wants them to see. He wants them to know that you’re his, that this bond is real, and he’s not going to let anything or anyone diminish that.

As the noise of the crowd grows louder, you realize there’s no use fighting it. Max’s grip on you is unyielding, and the pride radiating from him is almost tangible. He wants the pack to see you, to see him, to understand that you belong to him now — and there’s no room for hesitation.

“Max!” A voice breaks through the din, and you see Jos stepping forward from the crowd, his face a mix of approval and indifference. Jos had always been more focused on ensuring Max fulfilled his duties as the future Alpha than on any personal connection his son might have to his mate.

Max barely acknowledges his father’s approach, his attention still fixed on you, though his expression hardens slightly. “Father,” he says, his voice steady.

Jos’ eyes flick between you and Max, a calculating glint in his gaze. “So, it’s done then?”

Max’s jaw tightens, but he nods once. “It’s done.”

Jos’s lips twist into a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Good. I’ve waited long enough for you to make your choice. The pack’s waited long enough.”

There’s a tension in the air between father and son, unspoken but undeniable. Max doesn’t respond to Jos’ veiled challenge, his eyes narrowing slightly as if daring his father to push further. But Jos seems content with the knowledge that his son has finally taken this crucial step. He gives a curt nod, stepping back into the crowd, clearly uninterested in who Max has chosen — only that he’s done it.

The congratulations continue, pack members approaching Max with grins and slaps on the back, though none of them dare get too close. You’re acutely aware of every gaze, every cheer, as wolves you’ve known for years now look at you differently. You’re not just one of them anymore — you’re the future Alpha’s mate.

Max accepts the praise with a tilt of his head, his hold on you never wavering. His grip is possessive, grounding, and you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him. Pride, satisfaction, and something deeper — something darker that thrums through the bond between you.

“Max! You finally did it!” One of the younger wolves calls out, a grin stretching across his face. “About time!”

Max smirks, his eyes flashing with amusement as he looks over at the young wolf. “I wasn’t going to settle,” he says, his voice carrying easily over the noise. “When you know, you know.”

The pack erupts into another round of cheers, their excitement palpable. But Max’s gaze flicks back to you, his eyes darkening again as the bond between you hums with a new kind of tension. He’s barely keeping himself in check, his control hanging by a thread as the reality of the situation sinks in.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear again, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. “I want to take you back.”

Your heart skips a beat, the heat between you intensifying. He doesn’t mean back to the pack house for rest. He means back to continue what you’ve only just begun.

You glance around, acutely aware of the eyes still on you, but Max doesn’t seem to care. He’s made his claim, and now he’s ready to follow through with it. You feel the blush creep up your neck again, but Max’s confidence is unshakable.

“Let’s go,” he mutters, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s already made the decision for both of you.

Before you can respond, a chorus of howls and whistles erupts from the crowd as they catch on to Max’s intent. One of the older wolves grins, his voice carrying over the others. “Give the girl a break, Max! Let her breathe for a second!”

Max’s lips twitch into a smirk, but he doesn’t slow down. He’s already moving toward the pack house, his focus entirely on you. The sounds of the pack fade into the background as Max carries you through the clearing, his pace quickening as the bond between you pulls tighter, urging him forward.

“Max,” you whisper, your voice a mix of embarrassment and something else — something deeper that thrums in time with the bond.

He doesn’t answer, but you can feel his resolve, the way his grip on you is unyielding, his steps purposeful. He’s done waiting. Done with the formalities, the congratulations. All he cares about now is getting you back to the pack house, where he can finish what he started.

As you approach the entrance, you feel the weight of everything settle on your shoulders — the bond, the pack, the future that stretches out in front of you. But Max doesn’t seem to falter. He’s never been one to hesitate, and now, with you in his arms, there’s no question in his mind.

You’re his. And he’s going to make sure everyone knows it.

***

Max doesn’t slow down as he crosses the threshold of the pack house, his grip on you unrelenting. His focus is laser-sharp, his footsteps echoing in the quiet as the distant sounds of the pack fade into the night. He moves through the familiar halls with a purpose, barely acknowledging anyone who dares to glance his way.

You can feel the tension in him, coiled like a spring, ready to snap. And you? You’re caught in it, completely tangled in the intensity that rolls off him in waves.

Your heart is still pounding from everything that’s happened — from the run, from being claimed, from the eyes on you in the clearing. But now, in the privacy of the pack house, that pounding becomes something else entirely.

Anticipation. Need. You can’t ignore the way your pulse quickens the closer you get to Max’s room, your body still thrumming with the lingering effects of the bond.

Max kicks the door open with ease, stepping inside without hesitation. The door slams shut behind him, the finality of the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He sets you on your feet, but before you can even take a breath, his hands are on you again, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“You thought you could run,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes are dark, almost feral, and you can see the possessiveness etched into every line of his face. “But you were never going to get away.”

You open your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat. Max doesn’t give you time to respond anyway. He crushes his lips against yours, the kiss rough and all-consuming, his hands sliding down your body as if he’s determined to remind you exactly who you belong to.

The kiss leaves you breathless, your knees threatening to give way beneath you, but Max doesn’t relent. He’s a force of nature, untamed and relentless, his touch both commanding and electric.

“Max-” you manage to gasp, but he silences you with another kiss, his hands already working their way across your skin.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a dark promise, “I was always going to catch you.”

There’s no room for argument, no room for anything but the overwhelming heat between the two of you as he pulls you toward the bed. The moment your back hits the mattress, the air crackles with something wild, something uncontrollable. Max is on you in an instant, his hands sliding up your thighs, pinning you in place as his eyes lock onto yours.

“This time,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “there’s nowhere to run.”

Your breath catches as he lowers himself over you, his presence overwhelming, his weight pressing you into the mattress. His lips find your neck, and you can feel the rumble of his growl against your skin as he kisses the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. His hands grip your hips with enough force to leave marks, but the thought only sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

You can barely think, barely breathe, as Max claims you again, the bond between you tightening with every touch, every kiss. This is nothing like the forest. Out there, it was raw, primal, an instinctive act of possession.

But here, in the privacy of his room, it’s something else entirely. It’s as if Max has no intention of holding back — no intention of stopping until every part of you knows exactly what it means to be his.

He shifts, moving his hands beneath your back, pulling you closer to him as his mouth moves down your body, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You arch into him, the intensity of the bond overwhelming as you cling to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

“Max,” you breathe, your voice barely more than a whisper.

His answer is a low growl, one that vibrates through your entire body, and before you can say anything else, he’s pushing your legs apart, positioning himself between them with a hunger that leaves you gasping. The moment he enters you, it’s like a dam breaks inside you, the bond coming to love so hard it almost knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as Max claims you fully, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you.

The bed creaks beneath you, the wooden frame groaning under the force of Max’s movements. You can feel it — the raw power in him, the unrelenting strength as he drives into you, his grip on your hips like iron. The bond between you pulses with every thrust, a tangible thing that seems to tighten and twist, pulling you closer, deeper into each other until it’s impossible to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

You can barely form words, barely think beyond the sensation of Max surrounding you, inside you, his breath hot against your skin, his growls vibrating through your entire being. You feel the bed shift beneath you, the groaning wood reaching its breaking point, but Max doesn’t care. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t stop — if anything, it seems to spur him on.

The moment the bed frame finally gives way, splintering beneath you, Max lets out a low, satisfied growl, his lips curling into a smirk as if this is exactly what he wanted. He catches you before you can fall, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as the broken pieces of the bed frame scatter beneath you.

“Max-” you start, but he cuts you off with another bruising kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“I’m not stopping,” he growls against your lips, his voice rough with need. “Not until you understand.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the embarrassment from earlier flooding back. You’d thought you understood — thought the intensity of the forest floor was the peak of what Max could offer. But this … this is different. This is Max unrestrained, Max with no one watching, no expectations to hold him back. And it’s almost too much.

He shifts again, pushing you down into the now broken bed frame, his body covering yours as his lips move down your neck, his teeth grazing the mark he left earlier. The reminder of the bond sends a shiver through you, your body responding to him instinctively, your fingers digging into his back as you arch into him.

“You can’t run from this,” Max mutters, his breath hot against your skin. “You can’t run from me.”

“I wasn’t-” you try to protest, but his lips find yours again, swallowing your words as his pace quickens, the rhythm of his movements relentless, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.

“I was always going to catch you,” he growls, his voice low and dark, sending another shiver through you. His hands grip your hips again, pulling you against him with a force that leaves you gasping. “I will always catch you.”

You can feel the bond tightening, pulling you closer to him, until it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of you. Max’s growls are low and possessive, his body moving against yours in a way that leaves no room for doubt — you’re his.

There’s no escape from him. And you don’t want there to be.

The bed beneath you is in ruins, but Max doesn’t seem to care. He’s unrelenting, his pace increasing until you can barely keep up, every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through you, pushing you closer to the edge until it feels like you might shatter.

And when you finally do — when the bond snaps fully into place and the pleasure crashes over you in waves — it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Max follows a moment later, his growl vibrating through you as he collapses on top of you, his body still pressed tightly against yours, his breath ragged.

For a moment, the world is still. The only sound is the heavy breathing between the two of you, your heartbeats syncing together as the bond settles, the overwhelming intensity of it fading into a deep, unbreakable connection.

Max doesn’t move for a long time, his arms still wrapped around you, his breath hot against your neck. And though the bed is in ruins beneath you, though everything feels like it’s been torn apart, there’s a strange comfort in the aftermath. Max was always going to catch you. And now, there’s no running from him — or from what you’ve become.

***

The morning light filters softly through the curtains of Max’s room, a faint golden glow that dances across the tangle of sheets and broken bed frame beneath you. The world feels still — quiet in a way that seems almost surreal after the storm of the night before.

Your body aches in the best way possible, every muscle sore and tender, a reminder of how intense things had been. You shift slightly, the warmth of the blankets pulling you back into the heavy drowsiness that clings to your limbs, but something — someone — keeps you grounded.

Max.

He’s beside you, his body still wrapped around yours, his chest pressed against your back, one arm draped protectively over your waist. The possessiveness in his touch is unmistakable, even now. But it’s gentle, too — tender in a way that contrasts with the ferocity he’d shown you only hours ago.

You can feel his fingers in your hair, stroking through the strands with slow, deliberate movements. It’s soothing, almost hypnotic, and you let out a soft sigh, the sound unbidden, as the sensation lulls you back toward sleep. But before you can fully drift off, you hear his voice, soft and low, cutting through the stillness of the room.

“Mijn kleintje hertje …” His voice is thick with affection, the Dutch words rolling off his tongue like a private lullaby. His little deer. There’s something about the way he says it, so gentle and reverent, that makes your heart skip a beat.

His fingers continue to comb through your hair, and for a moment, you let yourself just feel it — let yourself melt into the way he touches you, the way he holds you like something precious. You had seen him as the alpha, the fierce, dominant force who claimed you without hesitation. But now, there’s a softness to him that you hadn’t expected. A tenderness that makes it hard to breathe.

“You can run, you know,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, the barest hint of a growl underneath. “But I’ll always catch you.”

There’s a playfulness in his tone, but it’s layered with something deeper, something that sends a shiver down your spine. He shifts slightly behind you, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips brush against the back of your neck.

“I’m the big, bad wolf,” he continues, the smile in his voice evident. “And you’re my little deer.”

Your heart flutters, heat creeping up your cheeks. It’s absurd — being compared to prey when you’re his mate, when you’re just as much a wolf as he is, when you’ve already been claimed so thoroughly. But there’s something about the way he says it, something that makes your pulse quicken.

“You’re teasing me,” you mutter, your voice still thick with sleep, though you can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

Max hums in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he admits, his hand still stroking your hair, the rhythm slow and deliberate. “But you like it.”

There’s no point in denying it. Not with the way your body responds to him, to the possessiveness in his voice and the way he holds you so close. You don’t say anything, though. Instead, you turn slightly in his arms, shifting so that you can see his face.

He’s watching you, his blue eyes dark and intense, but there’s a softness in them now that makes your breath catch. He looks different in the morning light — less like the fierce alpha and more like the man behind it all. His hair is tousled from sleep, his stubble more prominent in the soft glow of the room, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes your heart ache.

“You were always going to catch me, weren’t you?” You ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s lips curve into a small, satisfied smirk. “Always,” he says, without hesitation. His fingers trail down from your hair, brushing softly against your cheek, and his eyes darken just slightly as he looks at you. “I told you, I was never going to let you get away.”

You bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest as the intensity of his gaze settles over you. It’s hard to imagine now, how you ever thought you could escape him — how you thought you could run from the bond that had been pulling the two of you together from the moment you first felt his eyes on you.

Max’s hand moves to your chin, tilting your face up toward his. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “Every part of you.”

You nod, unable to find your voice. There’s something about the way he says it — like it’s an indisputable fact, something as fundamental as the rising of the sun. And you can feel it, deep in your bones. The bond between the two of you is unbreakable now, solidified by the mark on your neck and the night you spent together.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like a dream.”

Max’s expression softens at your words, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s real,” he murmurs against your skin. “You’re real. And you’re mine.”

His words send a shiver through you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth and safety that radiates from him. Max shifts, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he tilts your face up to his, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

“You can try to run,” he says, his voice teasing but laced with that same possessiveness. “But I’ll always find you.”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, and you can see the truth in his eyes. Max is relentless. He always has been. Whether it’s in the pack, in the hunt, or in his pursuit of you, he doesn’t back down. He doesn’t stop.

And a part of you — the part that’s known since the moment he caught you in the forest — finds comfort in that. In knowing that no matter what, Max will always be there. He’ll always find you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, your voice steady even though your heart is racing.

Max’s eyes darken, his thumb still tracing slow, deliberate circles on your lip. “Good,” he growls, the word a promise. “Because I’d hate to have to chase you again.”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes — something wild and unrestrained — and it sends a thrill through you, your body responding instinctively to the shift in his energy. Max leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his hand still cradling your face as he presses you into the mattress beneath him.

The kiss is softer than the ones from the night before, less hurried and more intentional, but the intensity is still there — unrelenting, just like Max. His lips move against yours with a possessiveness that sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the bond between you tighten, pulling you even closer together.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breath is ragged, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your chest ache.

“I’ll never let you go,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “Never.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of his words settles over you. You can feel the truth in them, feel the bond that connects you both thrumming with life. It’s overwhelming — this connection, this need. But it’s also grounding in a way you never expected.

“I don’t want you to,” you whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Max smiles, a slow, satisfied grin that makes your stomach flip. He leans down, pressing another kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to look at you fully, his eyes dark and intense as they roam over your face.

“Good,” he murmurs, his hand still resting on your cheek. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

You can’t help but laugh softly at that, your heart feeling lighter despite the intensity of everything that’s happened. Max’s eyes soften at the sound, and he leans down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“Mijn kleintje hertje,” he whispers again, his voice soft and affectionate. His little deer. The words wrap around you like a blanket, and you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, into the bond that ties you both together.

For a moment, everything is still. Quiet. Perfect.

And you realize, with a sudden clarity, that you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[heartsaturn]

“i’m wearing tennessee orange for him” - lh43

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which, blood doesn’t run thicker than water

warnings: nothing (??), intended lowercase, set in luke’s last season at umich, awkward!luke and a bit of shy!luke, ends in a bit of a cliffhanger so i’m open for part two requests if anyone wants it

a/n: woah !!! sara actually write a fic ?!? ik ik it’s crazy. this was requested by my one and only @daniiiboo, i deeply apologize for taking five years (a few MONTHS 😓) for this to come out. i still don’t really like this fic but i like it enough to post it.

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if one thing is true, it is that ohio state hates university of michigan. the feeling is definitely mutual. the two schools have been rivals since before you can remember. all you know is that you cannot associate with someone from michigan. you were raised a buckeye, and you will stay a loyal buckeye, right?

well, being a loyal buckeye is really damn hard right now.

it is not an abnormal thing for you and your friends to go and support the sports teams at your school. most of the time, it was football games. sometimes, it was hockey games. and now hockey season is starting. the stadium buzzes with energy at the first rival game of the season. it’s the beginning of october and the beginning of fall, which you believe is one of the best times of the year. the air finally starts to become crisp after a blazing summer. it couldn’t be a better time for a hockey game. so, you and your friend decide to go to the game for the atmosphere.

just here for the atmosphere, you try to remind yourself now. you also happen to be questioning in your mind why a hockey player just tossed you a puck. a michigan hockey player. there is no way that he thought you were a michigan fan because, first of all, there is a very minimal amount of michigan fans. you’re literally at your home arena. second of all, you and all of your friends are wearing ohio state gear. who does this stupidly gorgeous wolverine think he is?

while all of your friends start squealing because of this boy’s gesture, you sit there in shock. you look at the puck that rests in your hands. you don’t snap out of your confused daze until one of your friends nudges you.

“you think he’s cute?” she asks with a small smile on her face. her words are teasing and her smile is smug.

of course, you think he’s cute. how could you not? he is tall, has curly hair that you can see peaking through his helmet, and you note the little smirk that he had on his face as he skated away from you.

“he’s not bad-looking,” you answer. you can’t stop a small smile that grows on your face as you look down at the little gift.

during the game, you and your friends find out that this boy’s number is 43 and his last name is hughes. you can’t deny that your eyes follow him almost the whole game. you try not to let them wander, you really do. upon finding out his last name and jersey number, your friends are able to find his instagram account.

“you guys are actually insane,” you say with a snicker.

“we just found your future boyfriend on instagram, so you're welcome,” one of your friends teases sassily.

the game goes on and the whole arena is filled with chants and overwhelming school spirit as ohio state finishes off the game, winning 4-3 in overtime.

this is not good for luke. his mind has gone into a spiral of what went wrong and what the team could have done better when he remembers his bold actions during warmups. the truth is, luke isn’t some cocky hotshot hockey player. he is just an awkward college student who happens to be pretty darn good at the sport he plays. luke is charming and charismatic. he knows this, mainly because he has been told by other people. he just isn’t all that confident in using these abilities quite yet.

luke can already feel the regret bubbling inside of him because of his previous actions, certain that he has zero shot with this girl. what are the chances of him even seeing her anyway? well, apparently very high because he does see her again.

you had let your friends encourage you to wait outside the locker rooms to see if you could find the boy that they so desperately want you to meet. and then they left you. they left you wandering outside the locker rooms anxiously by yourself. in their minds, it was a way to get you alone with luke. in your mind, it was downright mean. the only people who really stand outside the locker rooms are family members and girlfriends, which you are neither of. you feel out of place and you honestly hope that luke comes out of the locker room just so that you don’t have to hover awkwardly for much longer.

then, your prayers are answered because out walks the same hockey player that had so shamelessly thrown a girl on the opposing school’s team a puck earlier. only this time, the boy looks much less intimidating. he actually looks quite friendly. when he walks out of the locker room, he is talking with one of his teammates. he looks exhausted and a bit beaten up from the loss that his team just faced, but that doesn’t make him any less attractive in your eyes.

luke sees you and immediately recognizes you. he couldn’t forget such a pretty face. honestly, that is probably the only reason that he gained the confidence to toss you a puck in the first place. seeing you smiling with your friends and looking so gorgeous while doing it made luke so desperate to try and flirt with you.

now, luke is a tad stunned. he sees you and just freezes for a moment. he decides to approach you after a few seconds of you not noticing him.

“hello,” you hear a male voice say after clearing his throat. you spin around to see the captivating wolverine from earlier.

“oh, hi..” you reply softly. both of you seem too shy to speak to the other properly.

“thanks for the puck,” you speak up, now looking up at his taller frame.

“oh yeah, no problem. i’m sure you get that all the time being as stunning as you are…” luke says back. his demeanor is still very bashful. although, he can feel his confidence swell as the conversation flows on because there is no way that he is losing his chance with you.

you find his attempt at flirting a bit amusing but still sweet. his continuous attempts to impress you and try to hold the discussion with you are honestly adorable.

“not usually, and not by anyone i would want to get to know anyway. i could make an exception for you though,” you respond, a pleased smile finding its way to your features.

“do you want to get to know me while we get lunch then?” luke asks. very smooth transition, luke. very smooth indeed.

“our schools are three hours away from each other you know…” you say. your words are meant to be taken almost as a warning. not just a warning to luke but to yourself as well.

“i have a feeling i’ll be in it for the long game,” the boy simply replies with a little grin and slight shrug. his casual answer eased you a bit and let you know that he wants to make it work out if you also want to.

you have literally known this boy for a whole two minutes of your life and you are already thinking about if you could go long distance with him. i guess he really did catch your attention on the ice.

“i’m luke by the way,” he says.

“y/n,” you reply.

you don’t dare to tell your family what school luke goes to if you guys do end up making it work.

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word count: 1269

[f0rlorn]

when he sees me → logan howlett

logan howlett (x-men) x female!reader

notes → in which jean and ororo set you up on a blind date with a wolverine. in honor of deadpool and wolverine throwing me back into my x-men phase full force, i nabbed this from my wattpad. fair warning, it was written in 2021.

i stick with real things, usually facts and figures. when information's in its place i minimize the guessing game. guess what? i don't like guessing games.

you had always been a logical person. opting to plan things out rather than diving right in, so when jean offered to set you up on a blind date, you were hesitant to say yes. you always needed to know when and where things would be going down, and most importantly who would be there with you. this blind date contradicted most, if not all of your morals.

or when i feel things before i know the feelings. how am i supposed to operate when i'm tossed around by fate? like on an unexpected date! with a stranger who might talk too fast. or ask me questions about myself before i've decided that he can ask me questions about myself. he might sit too close! or call the waiter by his first name. or eat oreos but eat the cookie before the cream! but what scares me the most... what scares my the most...

it was clear that you were anxious about this, you were waving your hands around like a maniac, ranting to jean about things that didn't even make sense. "y/n, could you stop moving? i really need to finish up on your hair." jean pleaded, struggling to style your hair. you sighed and slouched in your chair, fiddling your thumbs.

"...what if he hates me?"

what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it? what if he runs the other way and i can't hide from it? what happens then? if when he knows me, he's only disappointed? what if i give myself away to only get it given back? i couldn't live with that!

jean turned your chair around so that she could look you in the eyes. "you are a smart and talented girl, y/n. any guy would be lucky to have you. if logan can't see that than he's just stupid." her comment was reassuring. it calmed you down, yes. but you still couldn't stop the nervousness bubbling within you.

"now go get dressed, storm is in the other room picking out an outfit for you." you thanked her and walked out of the bathroom, into your bedroom, where storm was rummaging through a pile of laundry. she smiled and pulled out a blouse for you to wear. she turned towards you and tossed you the shirt.

"the rest is on the bed. i need to go grab one last thing from my room and then you'll be ready to go!" she cheered, excited for you. you had never been much for dating. the few folks you did bring back turned out to be a bunch of douche bags, or had been scared off by some of the other mutants. when jean proposed the idea to the team, they were even more excited than you.

  you pulled off the top you were wearing and threw it in the corner of your room. you took the blouse that ororo gave you and put it on. next you put on the skirt and tucked your shirt into it. storm returned from her room with the item she retrieved. it was a gorgeous necklace with a gold chain and a jewel hanging around it. storm clasped it around your neck. "jean, c'mere!" ororo called for jean to come and see the new and improved you.

  "you look absolutely stunning!" jean praised, her hands on her hips. "let's head on downstairs, we still got some time before we need to get you out the door." jean led the three of you into the kitchen, you starting pacing the room as they sat down at the kitchen island.

  "do i have to do this?" you whined, not at all prepared for what was soon to come.

"there's no point in backing out now! it took me almost an hour to get you ready, you will be going to this date." jean said.                           

"why did i agree to this? i'm perfectly fine here! i'm surrounded with the people i love, i have my dream job... i don't see why i need a new guy in my life. and if life taught me anything, it's that men are garbage." you reasoned, trying to find an excuse not to go.

so i'm just fine inside my shell-shaped mind! this way i get the best view. so that when he sees me, i want him too...

  you were deep in thought, making a list in your head of the pros and cons of going on this date. the truth is, you were actually quite lonely here, and your friends were starting to notice.

   don't you think you're bein' a little, i mean, just a tad-

  ororo started before you cut her off.

  i'm not defensive! i'm simply being cautious. i can't risk reckless dating due to my miscalculating. while a certain suitor stands in line. i've seen in movies, most made for television, you cannot be too careful when it comes to sharing your life. i could end up a miserable wife!

  jean and ororo both gave each other a look. you continued on about how he could be some sort of criminal of psychopath. jean sighed and looked at her watch.

  "y/n, we gotta get going" they got up and ushered you to the car. ororo and jean got in the front seat of ororo's car, and you sat in the back. the entire car ride was filled with you going on and on, with 'what if's' and 'could be's'. there wasn't a single moment where you weren't complaining. jean was starting to think that maybe this wasn't the best idea after all. when you finally arrived at your destination, the three of you got out of the car. they pointed in the direction of the infamous wolverine, pushing you his way. he leaned against his car, lighting a cigar. you walked up to him, a little intimidated.

  "you're logan, yea?" you asked shyly, not really knowing what to do or say.

  "that's me, i'm assuming that makes you y/n." he replied. you nodded awkwardly.

  "shall we head in then?" he asked, looking down at you with raised eyebrows.

"yes, yes we shall." you answered, smiling slightly.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Genshin girls: Dehya, noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Kujou Sara. Ayaka And Yae Miko

Reacting to S/O’s mom leaning close to S/O and not so quietly asking when she should she expect grandchildren

(Genshin Impact) Dehya, Noelle, Eula, Shenhe, Sara, Ayaka, and Yae being asked THAT question by S/O's parents

(Source: Yuushibadesu on twitter)

Dehya laughed at the question and S/O's reaction, as they hurriedly tried to shush their mother.

(Dehya) "Hm...I'll just get back to you on that one!"

However, she does start thinking about it after the dinner.

Kids? She had so much to do to truly live up to the legend of the Lion, and having a kid was not on the agenda.

Dehya isn't sure she's ready for kids anytime soon, or if she would ever be. But, always time later to think about that, right?

(Noelle) "Kids?!"

Noelle is way too young to be thinking about that!

She's just as flustered as S/O, watching the mother only laugh at their reactions.

(Noelle) "I'm far too busy, ma'am! I have to be accepted into the Knights of Favonius, and then there'll be so much to do afterwards!"

It's a topic she shoves into the back of her mind. Kids are the furthest thing from her agenda of things to do.

...Well, at least S/O's mother approved of her.

Eula almost chokes on her food upon hearing the question.

(Eula) "A-Ah...kids?"

She tries to recollect herself and clears her throat.

(Eula) "I am glad you approve of me that much, ma'am but...Kids are not in my foreseeable future. I have many responsibilities to attend to as a Knight of Favonius."

Though honestly, she's using her position as an excuse not to talk about it.

First she'd have to get the approval of Mondstadt so her kid wouldn't get bullied, which would be impossible.

But, the hurdle of the parents approving of her was passed it seemed.

(Shenhe) "Grandchildren?"

Funnily enough, Cloud Retainer had asked the same thing when Shenhe brought S/O to meet her.

And she still has the same answer.

(Shenhe) "I do not know."

She's not entirely opposed, but not in favor either.

Before anything else, Shenhe wants to feel emotions without the red string inhibiting her violent impulses.

Kids can come later.

That does not stop S/O's mother, or Cloud Retainer from asking constantly, however.

Sara completely halts when she processes what S/O's mother had said.

(Sara) "G-Grandchildren...?!"

Her professional air is shattered for the briefest moment before responding.

(Sara) "Until Inazuma is fully stabilized, I'm afraid children is out of the question. I would like them to be raised when we can all rest easy, ma'am."

Sara is a little flustered, but she meant what she said.

Until everyone's safe, there can be no rest.

...She did wonder how much of her Youkai blood would be part of their child, however.

Ayaka spits out her drink and coughs violently, being completely taken off guard.

(Ayaka) "A-Ah, please forgive the mess!" COUGH "i-I was not ready for such a question!"

Ayaka apologizes profusely while her cheeks did their best impression of a tomato.

She barely had time for herself, let alone S/O! The last thing she wanted to do was neglect their own child!

For now? Kids are absolutely out of the question.

(Yae) "Hm, that is a rather good question S/O. When are we having kids?"

Yae gives a dangerous and teasing smile to S/O, tilting her head and enjoying the reaction of their pride dying on the inside.

In all fairness, Yae doesn't particularly care for children at this very moment.

It would add excitement to her life to be sure, but there were...more serious matters when it came to that question.

Such as Yae herself outliving S/O. Would their child live as long as her, or would she outlive them too?

Regardless, that was not the topic to bring up at a family dinner, so she lets those thoughts go unsaid.

[slimmestofshady]

Bad Habits Kill You- pt2

Warnings: Domestic violence (not between you and marsh), mentions of cheating, drug dealing, drug use, mentions of cocaine, guns.

The winter light of the morning peered in through the raggedy shades as you poured the last of the pancake mix into the bowl. Ellie was coloring still in her pajamas with messy hair, the last page of her book, soon you’d have to find something else to occupy her.

Sara bounced joyfully in her play pen, having an adoring smile spread across her innocent face, she was going to be heartbreaker when she grew up that was for sure.

Somehow, same way you were safe for another month from being thrown out on the streets. Marshall brought in two months worth of rent in a week. You hadn’t asked where he’s gotten it from nor did you want to know the answer so long as trouble wasn’t coming around the house and your girls were safe.

The phone ringing reeled you from your thoughts as you set down Ellie’s plate, kissing her on her forehead, mentioning to eat up before picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey it’s me..” Fuck, Marshall would kill you right now if he was here, Andre seemed to only fuel his anger. He typically wasn’t a jealous man, but perhaps he was because Andre had his shit together, his business was flourishing and maybe it was a bit odd that he kept you around with how much you had to call off or leave work early.

“I told you, you can’t call here anymore.” You released a breath if relief that he at least called the house phone before the cell you shared with Marshall, surely he would have called by now had Andre called the phone.

“I just wanted to check in, see if you or the girls needed anything, is that so bad? Besides how am i supposed to get ahold of you for extra hours?” Well no it wasn’t so bad, but in Marshall’s eyes it was. Andre was just a man trying to help and that hurt Marshall’s pride, he had never made a move on you personally, regardless of the nice comment he made to Ellie about you. Marshall didn’t need help from another dude, he didn’t want it, he didn’t want help from no one because he knew how it was. People will always want something in return cause of favor, that’s just how this town worked and he wanted no part of it if it meant a threat to his kids. He may be broke but there was another part to Andre he could see that you didn’t.

“Mommy who is that?” Ellie was always so curious as to what was going on around her, not that you blamed her there wasn’t much for her to do around the house anymore.

“Just talking to an old friend baby.” 

Meanwhile Marshall was on the outskirts of town, cig hanging from his lips while his arms crossed waiting on the dude to fuckin show up.

Glancing down at the barely charged phone, the guy still had 5 minutes.

When a conspicuous black car rolled up, Marshall was immediately on edge. That bitch was expensive and aint nobody in this town could afford some shit like that.

When the man rolled down the window he sighed before huffing and puffing.

“What the fuck took you so long bro? I’m out here freezin my fuckin balls off man!” The guy chuckled before getting out of his car. He was an old classmate of Marshall’s but heard about the trouble going around the block near his house. 

“You got what I asked for?” 

“Man, stop playin you know I always gotchu.” They both scanned out the area to ensure no one was around before Charles nodded off toward the car.

Typically he didn’t do this, but with the events at the house, Andre tryna steal his girl and the break in, he had to do something, even if it wasn’t necessarily right.

“Yo you still usin?” This question alone, especially coming out of left field made Marshall suspicious, he didn’t like sharing his shit around town, the less people knew about him the better.

“Depends, who wanna know?”

“Chill man, shit.” He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a little baggy filled with white power.

“I know it ain’t your usual but here take this, it’ll take the edge off and keep you awake to watch yo baby girl, I know you care for her man.” He was hesitant at first, not having tried coke yet but he succumbed to his bad thoughts swiping the bag from the guy and pushing it deep into pant pocket.

He nodded off as a thanks, watching the man get back in his expensive ass car, shit he could only dream about.

Marshall walked through the door, smiling softly at the scene of you and Ellie fast asleep peacefully on the sofa covered in a blanket. Sara was up bouncing around, he was shocked she wasn’t crying or anything hut boy did her smile light up when she saw her daddy. 

He stepped around the creaks on the floor board carefully, setting down an envelope of cash down on the table before swooping up his baby girl delicately.

“Daddy’s here…” He patted Sara on the back softly, pecking her forehead repeatedly.

Her bright blue eyes sparkled in the dim light, reminding Marshall of why he did what he did. She made all the bad days worth it, she was just a piece of the boulder that was his family to keep him sane.

He walked around the room with her, eventually settling in her nursery, pulling out old photos of when your relationship was flourishing. Pointing Sara to herself in each photo. A couple shots of when she was first born in the hospital, Marshall remembering how happy you both were welcoming baby number two into the world.

Another portrait of this past christmas and her big blue eyes wide while she examined one of the stuffed rabbits you got her, her tiny hands grasping at the animal before whimpering.

He sniffed her bum seeing if she needed change but no, perhaps hungry.

Walking into the kitchen he took out the last baby bottle of milk, eventually sitting down on the recliner and reaching for a bib to place below the small of her chin. The room was quiet leaving Marshall alone with his thoughts once again. His eyes settling on your unconscious figure, holding Ellie closely to your chest, the scene washing guilt over him like a hurricane, knowing that he had lied and wasn’t planning on going back to rehab anytime soon. The questions were soon to come about where the cash was coming from and why he wasn’t attending meetings. His focus was on his kids, minimum wage jobs wouldn’t pay shit and he wasn’t about to work in a factory and risk having Andre babysit again, the man’s name fuels every fiber of hatred in his body. His goal was to protect his girls, his woman, that was it but shit there had to be some give in this vicious cycle he was putting himself through.

A knock at the door startled him from his thoughts, jolting you awake while Ellie stirred in her sleep. 

“Who’s at the door?” Your voice was as quiet as a mouse, Marshall passing you Sara in the process as he got up, looking through the shattered window from a fight he had with a guy on the block that went too far.

Looking through the peephole he was blindsided by the sight of his mom and her boyfriend, telling you to stay inside before closing the door softly.

“What I can’t come inside?” He tucked his hands in his pockets, not in the mood for any shit as he shook his head staring blankly at the woman who made him.

“Not with him you ain’t. When’s break up number seven, next week?” She rolled her eyes in response but still smiling softly, her boyfriend on the other hand already on edge. They’d never gotten along and they never will, Marshall still blamed him for being the reason his ma got into drugs. 

“My little rabbit, so full of testosterone. I just came to bring Ellie and Sara their presents, is that so bad?” If she stole them yeah it was, he had enough shit going on here he didn’t want to add more to the list. Instead of arguing with her, he grabbed the bag from her hand, checking the gifts for any pricetags or names on them but not finding anything.

“I told you I’m better now.” She looked back at her boyfriend who was staring off into the distance, kicking rocks and broken pieces of glass around.

Peaking through the window, you saw her taking a seat on the step. Glancing down at Sara who was falling asleep against your chest, you quickly but quietly put her down in her crib before swinging the door open, scaring her up from the wooden step, causing her to drop her cigarette in the process.

“I have two sleeping girls in here so if you are here to start shit, respectfully, please leave. I-“

“I’m handling it aight? Go back inside.” You shot daggers at Marshall before ignoring his request and coming out the door with your hands at your hips unimpressed at her bold attempt to think she could reconcile.

“Y/N, I was just bringing them their gifts, that’s it.”

“What nearly two months past?” She knew there was no getting on your good side after everything that happened when you were pregnant with Sara.

Marshall wanted to hear his mother out but at the same time was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He hadn’t forgotten about her actions and would never forgive her for that but he just wanted to keep the peace for right now. He held his ground asking her to leave once more when no further words were exchanged between you, that was when her boyfriend Carl stepped in, as if he were in a position too.

“Look, don’t act like you two are perfect people or perfect parents. People fuck up, who would no more about fuck ups than you Marshall right? That’s why your kid’s such a fuckin spoiled brat, why you living in a broke down trailer and workin the block right?” Marshall didn’t notice your questioning expression, instead pushing past his mom and grasping at his hoodie, tackling him to the ground before throwing a ruthless punch. Carl missing the second hit and slapping him across the face. You and his mom rushed over to break up the fight but they were stronger than both of you put together.

The low life, waste of space grasped at Marshall’s collar both of them grunting and yelling before he pushed him through the door, Marshall’s back hitting the old, raggedy carpet jolting your kids awake.

“Get off of him!” You yanked at Carl’s collar and his natural response regardless of you gender was to swing back at you, only for that to be the tipping point of Marshall playing nice.

He forced his head up nudging into Carl’s forehead roughly before taking back control, straddling his mother’s boyfriend and punching into his face relentlessly.

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on my fucking girl!” Finally pulling Marshall off of him, Carl stood up hastily, grasping his jaw and wiping at the blood on his face.

“C’mon, let’s go..” Carl didn’t move still shooting daggers at Marshall as his heavy ragged breaths  and bloody nosy made it obvious who won this fight.  With eyebrows raised and crossing your arms, irritation set in as you were exactly right somehow, someway this would turn into trouble, it always has when it came to those two.

“Whatever, enjoy your fuckin miserable life with your two bastards and whore of a girlfriend. I’m sure she’d let me tap that anytime, isn’t that right sweetheart?” He winked at you, Marshall jolting forward to hit him again but your hands rested on his shoulder pulling him back to reality.

“This isn’t worth it, he isn’t worth it baby..” The elephant in the room became obvious to his mother, knowing that now it was best to leave. Nothing was improving and Carl was trying to be a better man but all her little rabbit did was antagonize him in her eyes.

When they finally left and the door closed, the screen fell off the hinge, yet another thing to repair, just what you needed.

Marshall was hit with a wave of emotions when he saw his little girl cowering under the table, tears rushing down her heated cheeks while she covered her ears from the fighting.

He got down to her level on his hands and knees, softening his facial features to ensure her he meant no harm and the fighting was done.

“Baby c’mere. They’re gone, it’s alright, it’s okay.” Her little bottom lip quivered, her body shaking from the frightening scene. Her daddy was scary when he was mad but he’d never, ever lay a hand on her. After a moment she slowly crawled over to him, grasping at his shirt while she continued to weep into the crook of his neck.

You rushed to a screaming and crying Sara, cradling her close to your chest while your hand rubbed soothing, delicate circles into her little back, cooing endless reassurances that her mommy was here and everything was okay now.

You and Marshall exchanged a look of grief and sorrow mixed with a hint of aggravation that it was the same old shit on a different day. Were your girls ever going to grow up without the chaos and the hurdles life seemed to hit you with repeatedly.

This wasn’t the right time to discuss your relationship problems at the moment, instead setting the bullshit aside and focusing on your girls.

After getting them settled, Marshall walked to the corner store, picking up some dino nuggets and orange juice for their dinner, finally getting them to relax.

Once Ellie was occupied nearly crashing on the couch, you noticed Marshall still sitting at the kitchen table with his headphones on and a paper and pen in hand, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander about the money situation, how was he bringing it in without a job? Carl’s comment lingered in your mind but you took what the guy said with a grain of salt. No. It had to be something else.

Where was it coming from? Granted earlier in the day you were determined to leave the conversation alone, but it needed to be had soon.

Picking Ellie up carefully, you placed her in the bed in your room, still nervous about allowing her to sleep in her own room since her belongings were stolen.

As you passed by him with her tired head resting on your shoulder, you tapped him on the shoulder jolting him from his thoughts. You simply nodded toward the bedroom, indicating you were gonna try to get some shut eye since you had a double tomorrow due to work being slow and not needing you today.

A few hours later he waited until you were asleep, getting off the mattress lightly to not wake you or Ellie, kissing her on the head caringly before heading outside to the car. Checking his surroundings, he huffed grabbing the shiny black object Charles lent him from the glovebox.

Looking around once more, he tucked it into the pocket of his hoodie. He stayed in the drivers seat lighting a cigarette as his hands were shaking from how long he’d gone without any drugs.

Grasping the baggie, he stared at the white powder in the streetlight shining through the windshield, the glow of it’s threatening presence merely urging him to do it right here right now.

Opening it up, he spread the thin powder into a line on the center console, reverting to a old receipt on the floorboard as a way to snort it, he didn’t wanna risk getting it on the cash he was going to give the landlord.

The instant rush of euphoria and energy taking him by surprise, leaving him nearly breathless.

He found himself just starinf blanklessly out the windshield, watching a stray cat run across the street before shaking his head and going back inside before you woke up and wondered where he was.

Before he layed back down, he hid the gun underneath the mattress before resorting back to the table after finding it difficult to even think about sleeping with the new found surge of energy.

[softspiderling]

i’ll call you mine

summary:

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I think you’d really like my friend Jaycee.”

Jaycee. Cregan imagined a blonde, not much different from his cousine. The girls in her sorority looked like a dime a dozen. He couldn’t say he was particularly enticed.

“I’m not really looking to date right now, Sar,” Cregan hedged and Sara only groaned.

“Oh come on, Cregan, I really think you should-“

Cregan didn’t really hear the rest of Sara’s words, because Jace walked into the lecture hall, his eyes scanning the seats before stopping on Cregan, giving him a small wave. Cregan lifted his hand to call him over, before shoving his bag off the seat.

“Hey Sara, I gotta go, class is starting.”

OR; Cregan has a crush on this guy in his class, and his cousin wants to set him up with one of her sorority friends. Also, he’s still kind of in the closet. Good times.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x cregan stark, modern au!

warnings: slight ooc, comes with modern aus, imho

word count: 2,1k

author's note: the jacegan/haylor 2.0 brain rot is real. this idea came to me literally this afternoon and i just wrote it down lmfao. hope you like it <3 plss pls pls leave some kind words/reblogs! this is for jacegan nation <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Cregan had always known he was into guys ever since he was younger. Whenever he was hanging out with his friends, they moaned and talked about Rhaenys, the singer of the The Conquerors, and occasionally about about the drummer Visenya. Cregan tried to chime in as much as possible; they were pretty. He was just impartial to Aegon, the lead guitarist. If Cregan ever chose to tell his friends he was into guys, he didn’t think they’d judge him, they had seemed fairly unbothered when one of their teachers had turned out to be gay.

But Cregan had never felt the need to tell anyone he was into his guys; after his first two girlfriends everyone had assumed he was straight and Cregan never corrected them. While he did have an occasional crush at a player from the opposing team or a frequent customer at the coffee shop he used to study at, it was never something he found worth pursuing.

That changed, however when Cregan got into university. Every other guy was insanely hot and made him question if he ever was into girls in the first place. One especially, Jace, from his Gender Politics class, had Cregan sweating every Wednesday morning, with his lean arms, his brown curls and the freckles on his nose.

“Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Cregan frowned, pressing his phone harder against his ear. His cousin, Sara, had been chatting about her sorority for the past fifteen minutes and he had clinked out about the second time she said “so rad.”

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I think you’d really like my friend Jaycee.”

Jaycee. Cregan imagined a blonde, not much different from his cousine. The girls in her sorority looked like a dime a dozen. He couldn’t say he was particularly enticed.

“I’m not really looking to date right now, Sar,” Cregan hedged and Sara only groaned.

“Oh come on, Cregan, I really think you should-“

Cregan didn’t really hear the rest of Sara’s words, because Jace walked into the lecture hall, his eyes scanning the seats before stopping on Cregan, giving him a small wave. Cregan lifted his hand to call him over, before shoving his bag off the seat.

“Hey Sara, I gotta go, class is starting,” Cregan said, effectively cutting her off. She only sighed and he could basically see her rolling her eyes at him.

“Fine. But you’re not getting out of this so easily.”

He knew he wasnt.

“Bye Sar,” Cregan said, ending the call just in time to see Jace scoot into his seat. He looked great, as usual. The sunglasses on his head pushed his curls back slightly, his button up open over his white tank top.

“Hey, who were you talking to?”

“Just my cousin,” Cregan said, sliding his phone into his pocket. “You look good.”

“Thanks!” Jace said, beaming at him. “Have you done today’s reading?”

Cregan nodded, pulling a face as he opened his Macbook.

“Yeah and it was awful.”

The lecture passed quickly, just like it always did when Jace was there. Cregan wasn’t sure what it was about the other guy, but they just instantly clicked the first time they talked. It just felt like they were supposed to know each other. When the professor ended the lecture, Cregan and Jace both packed their stuff. Cregan always looked forward to Gender Politics, not necessarily because it was an interesting lecture, but because it was the only class he had with Jace. He hadn’t been bold enough yet to ask him to hang out privately.

“Alright, I’ll see you next week, right?” Jace asked, shouldering his backpack.

Cregan nodded, giving Jace a grin as the brunet turned to leave. To Cregan’s surprise, he stopped, looking back at Cregan.

“Hey, I don’t really know if it’s your thing or not,” Jace started, making Cregan hold his breath. “But there’s a party tonight at Alpha Phi. Do you maybe want to go? With me, that is?”

Surprised, Cregan was stunned for a second before he nodded, an easy grin on his face.

“Yeah, sure. Sounds like it could be fun.”

“Cool,” Jace said, pulling his phone out of his pocket, handing it to Cregan. “Put your number in, I’ll text you the details.”

Gingerly, Cregan typed in his number, making sure it was correct, before handing it back to Jace.

“Cool,” he repeated, his cheeks pink. “Um, I’ll see you tonight then.”

Cregan nodded and Jace saluted at him, turning to leave.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Stark!” he called over his shoulder.

The frat house was packed when Cregan arrived a little after ten later that night. This was a bit out of his comfort zone. While he liked to go out every once and then, frat parties weren’t really his thing. He only went once, during his intro week, and Sara had promptly danced on the tables in her bra. He was mortified.

He had been contemplated asking Sara to come, so he wouldn’t be by himself, but inviting Sara meant questions. Why are you going to a frat party? Who’s Jace? How come you never come to frat parties when I ask you to come?

Cregan really didn’t want to deal with any of those questions. So he sucked it up and went by himself. Squeezing past the people at the front door, Cregan immediately smelt cheap alcohol, sweat and beer. He just hoped he’d find Jace soon. With some difficulty, Cregan shouldered into the living room, looking to find a familiar head of curly hair, when he finally spotted Jace by the backyard door. Though he wasn’t by himself.

A prettt dark skinned girl was pressed into his side as she talked, her blonde hair curling around Jace’s shoulder. Cregan couldn’t help but feel a surge of jealousy. Jace had asked him to go to the party, why was he cozying it up with someone else?

When Cregan saw the girl lean in even closer to whisper in Jace’s ear, making him bowel over in laughter, he couldn’t help but feel a pit of disappointment in his stomach.

He should’ve known.

With a small groan, Cregan rubbed his eye, turning on his heel to leave, bumping into several people, but he ignored their exclaims. Of course a guy like Jace was straight. He had probably asked Cregan to come to be his wingman or whatever. Resigned, he took his phone out, texting his cousin.

Cregan: you can go ahead and set up the date with your friend

sara: omg!!! finally!!! i promise you guys at eso perfect for each other

He felt bad for letting Sara set up the date, but honestly, maybe her friend was cute and could help him get over this crush on Jace.

“If I had known that you were in such a bad mood, I would have set the date for another day.”

It was close to noon the next day, and Cregan was staring daggers into the foam of his coffee. It was just his luck that Sara had managed to set the date right for the next day, and she hadn’t even given him a chance to back out again. He was still in a foul mood. After he had left the party last night, Jace had been texting him a handful of times. He hadn’t really made up an excuse to text him back yet.

Jace: hey, got a beer waiting for you. when are you gonna be here?

Jace: ?

Jace: not cool, dude

Cregan still didn’t know how he was supposed to see Jace in class for the rest of the term. He considered just dropping the class, maybe retaking it some other time. He leaned back in his seat, as Sara checked the time again.

“Your friend’s not really big on punctuality, is she?” Cregan asked and Sara gave him a look.

“Jaycee’s not-“ She broke up, her eyes widening in recognition. “Nevermind. Finally.”

Cregan craned his head to look at the entrance, hoping to get a look at Jaycee before he had to talk to herc but there was no girl to be seen. Only Jace.

Wait.

Cregan nearly choked on his own spit when Jace walk into the cafe, raising his hand to wave at Sara as he approached their table.

“That’s your friend Jaycee?” he hissed, his eyes wide.

“Oh yeah, good thing you’re bringing it up,” Sara said, distracted, as she waved Jace over. “Don’t tell him I’m calling him that, he hates it.”

Jaycee.

Jacey.

Jace.

Holy fuck. He had it all wrong.

“You were setting me up with a guy?” Cregan asked incredulously and Sara only turned her head, giving him a look.

“Cregan, I’ve known you were into guys since like 10th grade, how dense do you think I am?”

Cregan gaped at her and she glanced over to Jace, before she looked back to him.

“Close your mouth and don’t embarrass me in front of him,” she muttered under her breath, before she stood up, raising her voice. “Hey Jace.”

“Hey Sara,” Jace said, giving her a quick hug, pushing his sun glasses up.

“Jace, this is my cousin Cregan,” Sara said, turning back to introduce him. Cregan barely had time to close his mouth, before Jace looked at him, his eyebrow raising.

“Cregan, hey.”

“Hey,” Cregan replied, his cheeks growing hot. Sara glanced between them, her eyes suspicious.

“You guys know each other?“

“We have Gender Politics together.” - “Your cousin stood me up last night.”

“What?” Cregan asked, confused. Jace only looked back at him, like he was daring him to prove him wrong.

“Uh, I think I’ll let you guys talk…” Sara said slowly, giving them one last look before she went left. Cregan glared daggers at his cousin’s back, before he looked at Jace, who seemed to be amused, more than anything else.

“I didn’t stand you up last night,” Cregan started; he didn’t like being called flaky. He would never stand someone up, much less Jace.

“I asked you to go to a party with me and you didn’t show up without even giving me a heads up,” Jace pointed out. “I’d call that standing me up.”

“I was there,” Cregan replied, frowning. “There was this girl all over you when I arrived, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Jace frowned at him, his lips pursed before it dawned on him. “Oh, you must be talking about Baela.”

Cregan raised his brows at him.

“Baela, my cousin,” Jace clarified and Cregan felt all sorts of embarrassment run down his back.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Cregan leaned back in his seat, dumbfounded. “So you were asking me on a date?”

Jace stared at him. “Was it not obvious?”

“I don’t really tend to go to parties on a first date,” Cregan pointed out and Jace winced.

“Okay, fair enough. But I wasn’t sure if you were into guys or not, and I figured a party was a safe bet in case you weren’t.”

Cregan grunted, seeing the logic in Jace’s plan. “Well, I am into guys,” Cregan said, even if it felt a little weird to say it out loud. Jace lifted his head, a smile growing on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cregan replied, pausing. “I’m also into you.”

Jace flushed, nodding, shifting on his feet. “Cool…. Me too.”

They just stared at each other for a few seconds before a loud groan came up behind them.

“For the love of god, just sit down, Jace!”

Sara maneuvered Jace into the booth, pushing him next to Cregan and more or less slammed another coffee in front of them.

“Just to be clear, this was my doing. I accept thanks in cash and venmo.”

“Get out of here, Sara,” Cregan snapped half heartedly as Jace only snickered into his coffee. Sara lovingly flipped him off, flicking her hair to the side before she exited the cafe.

“So Sara is your cousin?”

“Let’s not talk about Sara,” Cregan said, scooting closer to Jace, dipping his head, leaving him enough time to pull away if he wanted. “I’d much rather talk about us.”

“I’d much rather not talk at all,” Jace quipped, before he closed the last distance between their faces, putting his lips on Cregan’s in a soft kiss.

Cregan was fine with not talking for a while.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: YOOOOO so what are we thinking?

[contentloadingandstuff]

Nilou, Kujou Sara & Hu Tao Seeing Their Stoic S/O Smile

A/N: It's been some time, hasn't it? Enjoy!

Your disposition is both puzzling and impressive to Nilou. Somehow, no matter how stressful or anger-inducing the situation is, you remain unphased. It’s comforting for her, knowing that you’ll be able to endure anything and be a steady pillar for her to lean on if things get rough. Still, being stoic means that you don’t give in to positive emotions as well, which is a great shame. Would Nilou love to see you smile? Obviously! But she won’t force you to change - she accepts and loves you for who you are.

“I have something important to tell you~!” Nilou’s voice trails off. Your eyes grow soft at her clenched hands and the big smile plastered across her lips. 

You nod. “I can tell it's something good. Don't keep me waiting, honey bee.” 

She nods in return, taking a deep breath. 

“The theater is going to stay!”

Nilou squeals and hops up in glee, her red hair swinging in the air. She twirls around, making your heart throb. The sight… it's too much for you to bear. 

She dashes up to you and grabs your hands. “The city bought most of the shares! Do you know what that mea- Oh!”

You can't stop your hands as they grab her hips and hoist her up to your height. Your lips pepper her features with kiss after kiss, your arms squeezing the absolute daylights out of her petite frame. 

“Amazing! Oh Archons, for a moment there I thought it was over!” You burst out, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad everything is okay!”

“H-hey, slow down a little! You'll squish me like a pancake, baby…” 

Mumbling a quick apology, you hold her up a bit looser. She opens her mouth to speak again, but Nilou's interrupted by a gasp. 

“Nilou? Is..” The feeling of her small hands on your cheeks causes you to trail off. You watch as her face quickly lights up even further. 

“You're smiling!”

At this revelation, a sudden wave of embarrassment floods you. A slight blush blossoms on your face as you clear your throat. 

“Oh… Well… I mean, it's no wonder - your joy is absolutely infectious, my love.” You don't bother to thwart the expression. Your girl gently caresses your bright red cheeks, taking in the image and surely committing it to memory. 

“You're very handsome when you smile, do you realize that?” Nilou speaks, looking you directly in the eyes, hers overflowing with giddiness. “Very handsome~ You should definitely do that a little more often. Please?”

“Thanks for the feedback. I’ll t-try my best.”

You use a kiss to distract her from your flustered self, and put her down. Nilou returns the gesture and grabs your hands. 

“Come on now - let's get ice cream! We have something to celebrate after all~”

You and Sara are soulmates, both mature, responsible and stoic. There is no challenge that you two can’t overcome, whether it be a problem in the relationship or something external. You have each other’s back and push on towards your goals, never wavering or falling behind. Still, everybody needs some downtime once in a while, even her. Surely you could use some guard-lowering as well. Sara understands that expressing emotions might be difficult - she is somewhat of an expert herself - so the Tengu will never force you to relax, and will take things slowly as you learn how to be in a relationship.

The click of the front door surprises Sara, making her heart drop. So soon already? She hastens her movements, fingers fumbling with the silk kimono. 

“Sara? Are you home?” You speak out, and the answer arrives shortly.

“Take a seat, Y/N! I’ll be there in a moment.”

She straightens the fabric and looks up at the tall mirror again. Her hair is orderly, the red Tengu mask now replaced with a white lily braided in. Although rudimentary - mainly due to her inexperience in these matters - the makeup highlights her eyes and contrasts nicely with the gold of Sara’s irises. Despite the long journey she walked with the kimono adorning her body, she still misses the heaviness of armor on her skin, but even she can’t dispute the elegance of the outfit. The majority of the silk is dyed black, vines with cherry blossoms tracing her sides and sleeves, all white as snow. Her obi belt is black as well with various feather shapes embroidered in white thread. 

Sara takes a deep breath to strengthen herself. You can do this. She walks out the door and steps into the corridor, right into your field of view. 

You freeze in place upon seeing her. Your eyes dart around the sight in front of you before landing on hers. She blushes and looks down, her hands finding each other and dropping down to her belly. 

“... do you like it…?” Sara asks shyly, her eyes switching between you and everything but. You blink a few times and nod your head. 

“Of course I do, Sara… You look positively stunning…” You try to avert your eyes, but fail. “Is there a special occasion?”

She grabs her forearm. “Well, no… I just wanted to surprise you. You said I would look great in something like this, so-”

“Wait, you remember that?” You approach her in a fair bit of disbelief. “And this pattern, these colors… Did you…?”

Sara nods. “Yes, my love. I picked them out specifically for you.”

Your lips curl into a huge, dumb smile - just like that of a little boy. “Oh Sara…” 

Her eyes wide with surprise. Did you just smile? 

Before she can have a second thought you kiss her lips, Sara welcoming the affection. Out of breath after a short moment you part, one thing blaring in her mind. 

“You…”

Sara stops herself before she can finish. Your smile persists, radiating a sense of joy she never saw on your features before.

Ultimately, she decides against it. 

“You are too thankful, really. All I did was dress up, after all…”

You shake your head. “No, my love. You don't realize how much this means to me.” You embrace her. “I never fathomed how lucky I am to have such an attentive and loving woman by my side.”

She strokes your back tenderly, a smile of her own gracing her lips. “My love, the same can be said about you. You've done much more for me than I can ever put into words.”

Sara gently pulls away, once again face to face with you. Her hand goes up to your cheek, thumb gently tracing the curve of your beautiful smile. 

“I would do this and so much more time and time again, my love, just to see your beautiful smile.”

No matter what kind of tricks Hu Tao tries on you, you never even as much as smirk at her antics. No joke or situation can make you laugh - but does that mean she will just give up and walk away? You wish! By being so lovable and handsome and wonderful and loving her in return you brought trouble upon yourself, so you better be ready, mister!

Hu Tao rubs her temple, sighs, and readjusts her head on your thighs. 

It was a long day of work, advertisement and her usual shenanigans - scaring the daylights out of Xiangling, trying to get Zhongli to engage in some more modern activities and, of course, trying to get a reaction out of good old you. Despite her best efforts, not once have you broken your usual toned demeanor and went past that polite smile of yours. 

She looks up past the book you’re reading and at your face, bearing the same expression as always. Her eyes trace yours as they jump from line to line, before stopping abruptly. You send her a questioning gaze, but she just shakes her head. 

“It’s nothing, sweetie.” The director replies, and you go back to your lecture. 

Well, she’ll have to try again. And again. And again, though - truth be told - she is running out of ideas. Surprises, scares, pestering… none of what she tried gave any results. 

But maybe this is just how you are? Maybe the lack of expression is your unique feature. Hu Tao’s hand tightens around yours, placed comfortingly on her chest. She closes her eyes, and mumbles.

“You’re worse than Shenhe…”

She can hear you putting down the book, and feel your other hand going up to her hair, giving it a few gentle strokes. 

“Don’t worry about it, Hu.”

You shift, laying down beside her. She snuggles into your arm, letting you envelop her completely. The smell of your freshly washed hoodie fills her nose, prompting her to nuzzle her face right into you. It’s not long before she drifts off. 

When Hu Tao regains sight, the first thing before her eyes is a smile. Your smile. What a nice dream. 

She takes a deep, content breath and closes her eyes again. Her fingers feel your warmth radiating from underneath the fabric of your clothes and hear your steady, deep breathing.  

Hold on. 

Her eyes shoot open and she pulls away. You stir awake, your smile vanishing right away. 

“You did not just…” She gasps. 

“I did not…?” You reply, still hazy from the sleep. 

Hu Tao wiggles free, sitting up. You do the same, startled. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. 

“I try so many things, and this is what finally gets you?” She turns her head away from you, pigtails swinging in the air. “Ayia, you’re such a dork.”

There’s a moment of silence. Hu Tao cracks one of her eyes open without turning around, trying to see your reaction. You sigh. 

“Hey, honey-”

“No.”

“Um, sweetie-”

“Nu-uh.”

A moment of hesitation. “Honey bee…?”

“I don’t want to hear it. You disappointed me, Y/N L/N.”

Another moment of dramatic silence. Suddenly, Hu Tao feels your fingers around her sides. 

Her eyes widen and she tries to defend herself, but it’s hopeless. You strike at her with a barrage of well-aimed tickles, instantly making her squeal and wiggle. 

“Ah! Noooo! Come on!” Her body trembles with laughter, arms shooting out to grab your forearms. Before she can even realize her mistake, you’re already at her armpits, causing her to curl into a defensive ball. With little result, of course.

As she pointlessly struggles against your experienced tickling, you hum in a melodic voice. “That’s what you get for being grumpy, little butterfly~”

Hu Tao coughs a few times. All this laughter is making it a bit hard to breathe. 

“Okayyyy, safeword!” She bursts out once again as your hands slide under her t-shirt, mercilessly tickling her belly. “Uh, red! Blue! Orange! Whatever-it-was!”

You finally release her and scooch, giving her space to recover. After a few deep breaths and getting out a few more giggles, she brushes her messed up hair away from her eyes. You stare at each other for a short moment, and it’s then that an idea sparks in her mind. She quickly sits up and moves over, hands placed by her sides and ready to go.  

“Honey? You have a stain on your sleeve, I think. Can you lift up your arms please?”  

You do as she says, and Hu Tao doesn’t give you as much as a single second to think about the blunder you’ve just made. Enough said, she got much more than a single smile out of you that day. 

Thanks for reading!

[jacesvelaryons]

Another modern!jace x reader social media, maybeee drama w sara snow😈😈😈

a/n: i’m glad someone got that hint and asked for a sequel hehe 🤭🤭this can be a stand alone or seen as a sequel.

part one

masterlist

asks OPEN

let me know if you’d like to be added to my jace masterlist or a masterlist for all my work in general. thanks for the love and support, and most importantly, your patience. I’m trying to update more often between life, and will be able to provide more stuff soon!

i love hearing what you think of my work, and what more you’d like to see from me. 🥰

Did You Like Her In The Morning? (Modern! Jacaerys Velaryon x Female Reader, Sara Snow x Jacaerys Velaryon (unrequited))

spamacc

;)

liked by spamaccount287 and others

user916 hold on- isn’t that?

usernamehere isn’t that jacaerys velaryon?

↪️ random225 yeah that is him 😒disappointed but not surprised

user3842 men ain’t shit! we been knew

username93661 this has to be sara snows snap i know it

↪️person888 i mean who else!

yourusername

with best boy vermax 🥹

liked by baelatargs, rhaenat and others

nettlesishere love you girl!

liked by yourusername

user97 does she not know?

↪️ accountname66 i think she does or pretends it doesn’t bother her 😞

↪️fan7518 poor y/n 😔

↪️hater473 she’s probably staying with him for the money and turning a blind eye to his cheating she ain’t poor she knows what she got into

↪️username9200 you’re such a misogynistic pos making assumptions like that about someone you don’t know and when we don’t know the full story clown

lucerysvelaryon come over for dinner again sometime! it’s been too long!

↪️ yourusername i’ll see you guys soon i promise! miss you my family 🥰

jacaerysvelaryon

suns out.

liked by helaena.buggirl and others

fan638 oh and then he’s hanging out with her brother :/ he’s a cheater pos

↪️usernamehere i’m not a fan or anything but jace and cregan have been friends long before y/n or sara snow were in the picture ok let’s not jump into assumptions

jacaerysvelaryon y/n took this actually :)

↪️ other827 doesn’t negate the fact you’re a cheater 👀

↪️user1511 we don’t know the whole story guys stop

yourusername shared a story

yourusername’s story can no longer be found.

jacaerysvelaryon

liked by rhaenyratargs and others

i don’t like sharing information about me or my loved ones i’d like to keep private, but i’m here to clear up any misunderstandings. i’ve been together with y/n for years and never been with anyone else since. a former fling of mine and my best friends sister has dishonestly posted some private moments i had with her before i got together with y/n, and ive never talked to her since, and spoke with her to cut things off and make it clear im never getting back with her. please respect me and my girlfriend as we navigate this, and leave us the fuck alone.

comments are turned off for this post.

[photmath]

Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent

Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!

As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.

“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.

“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.

“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”

You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”

Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.

Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.

It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.

It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.

“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.

You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”

“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.

Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”

“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”

You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”

He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”

“We saw each other last month.”

“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.

He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”

“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.

You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.

“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.

Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—

“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.

Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”

“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”

“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”

Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.

You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“Who do you have?” he asks.

“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”

He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.

“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.

Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.

“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.

It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.

Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.

Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.

Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!

Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.

You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.

“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.

“We’re good…right?”

His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”

“I can’t just rest my arm?”

Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.

“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.

“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”

“Trent—”

“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”

“What?” you exasperate.

He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”

Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.

Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.

But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.

“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”

The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.

“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”

And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.

“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.

“Trent,” you squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”

“I missed them too.”

There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.

His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.

You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”

“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.

You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.

-

In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.

As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.

“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.

“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”

“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Trent.”

-

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.

His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.

Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.

His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”

“You hurt,” you whisper.

“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”

“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.

“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.

You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”

Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”

“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.

He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.

And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.

“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”

Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”

What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.

“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.

Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”

An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”

“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”

Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”

He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.

You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”

Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”

“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.

His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.

“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.

Jesus.

You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.

He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.

“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.

You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.

With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.

Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.

His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.

Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.

Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.

His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.

He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”

“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.

He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”

“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”

He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”

“I helped you, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”

He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.

-

Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.

Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.

Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”

Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.

“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”

“What?” Trent feigns.

“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.

Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”

The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.

Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.

One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.

Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.

You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.

Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.

You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.

“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.

You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”

For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.

Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.

“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.

Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”

You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”

He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.

----

Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.

[sapphire-writes]

Teacher's Pet (modern!HOTD)

read the second installment Lessons

pairing: professor!Aemond x student!Reader

summary: A night out during the spring semester of your senior year of university leads to a run-in with your former professor.

warnings: NSFW 18+ (explicit sex, unprotected, fingering, oral fem-receiving, overstimulation, titty sucking, praise, degrading language) mature themes, power imbalance

word count: 4.5k

note: I got a saucy little anon saying y'all needed a student x teacher fic from me, and to celebrate 3,000 besties I had to deliver!! thanks for all the love and support, you all mean the absolute world to me! Excited to keep creating for you all, ilysm 😘

You and your best friend Sara Snow grew up together, and spent nearly every waking moment attached at the hip. You know those friends you have that are more like siblings than friends? Sara was more like your twin. So when she stayed in your hometown going to Winterfell State, and you traveled to Citadel University, it was like you’d lost a limb. 

Which meant you had to visit each other as frequently as possible. Sometimes you’d travel back home and visit Sara, and other times she’d come to you. Sara preferred visiting you, she loved the wine bars and clubs of Oldtown.

“The vibe is just different here,” she says, sipping her wine, “I love it. Very chic.”

You’d chosen a new wine bar to explore this time around. It’s a super cute place, with low lighting and a chalkboard bar and tables, with chalk for drawing laid out on all the tables. Sara, being mentally 12 years old, had already drawn a veiny cock in front of you. You swipe it away with your hand.

“Rudeness!” she says, pouting as you destroy her artwork. 

“Stop drawing dicks,” you tell her and she narrows her eyes.

“You’ll have to kill me,” she teases, eyes flickering toward a blonde girl who passes on her way to the bathroom.

“You’re staring,” you tell her and she sticks her tongue out at you.

“She’s been staring at me for a while,” Sara tells you, grinning, “I for one, plan to get laid tonight.”

“I love that for you,” you tell her, smiling. 

“This guy at the bar, totally checking you out right now,” Sara says, sipping on her wine. 

Your face flushes and you turn your head slightly to look. Sara makes a noise of disapproval, setting her glass down.

“Don’t look,” she whispers, pushing some dark hair over her shoulders. 

“I’m not,” you hiss, tilting your head.

“You totally are,” Sara accuses.

“What’s he look like?” you ask.

Sara’s dark eyes scan the man, you watch them move seemingly over his form.

“Tall, platinum blonde, like seriously, must have an extensive hair care routine,” she says, nodding, “We love that, love a man with good hygiene.”

You snicker, living for her analysis. 

“He’s lean, but like you can tell he’s muscular,” she glances at you, “I know you’re a hand whore, and I can tell he’s got nice hands.”

“You’re so rude,” you accuse, blushing because she’s right. 

Sara scoots off of her seat. 

“C’mon, we’re going over there,” she tells you.

“Okay,” you agree and she links your arm pulling you from your seat.

You finally get a look at the guy and your stomach drops.

It’s your professor.

Not this semester, but last semester. Westerosis Literature taught by Professor Aemond Targaryen. A great class, hard as hell. He worked you fucking hard for that A. You mean to tell Sara but you’re still in shock as you come face to face.

“Hey there,” Sara says, smiling sweetly, “I couldn’t help but notice you checking out my friend, thought you’d like to buy her a drink? Maybe keep her company while I visit the loo?”

Aemond’s eyes rake over you, clearly recognizing you. You blush furiously, mouth gaping. 

“She likes Sauvignon Blanc,” Sara tells him, motioning to the bartender, “I’ll be back, take care of my girl.”

And with that, she flounces off toward the restroom.

“I’m sorry professor,” you tell him, nervously playing with your fingers, “If I had known it was you I wouldn’t have let her drag me over here.”

“Something tells me your friend would be hard to deny,” he tells you as the bartender comes over, “A glass of Sauvignon Blanc please, and I’ll take another gin and tonic.”

You flush as the bartender nods, getting your drinks. 

“She’s very persistent,” you tell him, nodding in agreement and casting your eyes to the floor. 

Aemond cannot keep his eyes off your glowing cheeks, the way your lashes flutter against them as you avert your gaze. 

“I can just take this back to the table,” you say, grabbing the glass of Sauvignon Blanc he paid for. 

Aemond shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t drink alone,” he tells you, patting the empty chair next to him, “Indulge me for a bit, will you?”

You look back towards the table you shared with Sara, though she has yet to return to it. She’s probably chatting up that girl she had her eyes on. You bring your gaze back to Aemond.

“Okay, if you’re sure you’re comfortable with that,” you tell him, slipping onto the stool. 

“Because that paper was cruel and unusual punishment, even for you,” you tell Aemond through a laugh.

You’re on your third glass of wine, the hours ticking away as you converse with your former professor. Sara has made herself scarce, though she’s been texting you. 

“You did rather well if I recall correctly,” he says, with a sly smile on his face.

You roll your eyes, taking another sip. You’ve always been a good student. 

“Only because I dedicated a week of sleepless nights to that assignment. Seriously, you should be paying for my therapy after that,” you tease, leaning your cheek against your hand. 

You’ve gotten closer to him during the night, your knees brushing against his thigh, heel clad foot mindlessly rubbing against his calf. You’re not sure if it’s the wine or the ease of the conversation that has you feeling so comfortable around him. 

“Send me the bill,” he jokes back, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. 

“I’ll put it in your mailbox tomorrow,” you giggle, taking another sip, “You know, I was really disappointed when your Essosi Literature class was full this semester.”

“Is that so?” he asks, sipping his gin and tonic, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Now I’ll never have the chance to take it,” you continue, “Unless you teach a summer course, otherwise your popularity has thrown off my entire plan of study.”

“My apologies,” he insists, grinning at you, “My popularity, you say? I thought I was a hard ass.”

“Oh you are,” you assure him, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not popular.”

“How so?” he pushes, a long finger dancing around the rim of his empty glass.

Your eyes follow the circle he traces, up the veins on the back of his hands. How have you never noticed how sexy his hands are? You’ve never been this close to him, his lectures always held in one of the large lecture halls on campus rather than the more intimate classroom settings. You wet your lips, desire pooling in your belly before you meet his eyes once more. 

“You know,” you tell him, unable to keep the secretive smile off of your face, “I mean, you must know.”

“Know what?” he murmurs, staring at you with such intensity it makes your thighs tremble. 

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear, chewing on your lower lip. This will be your last glass of wine, you feel too giddy, too at ease in the presence of your professor. You’re going to regret this little flirtation in the morning, you can feel it in your bones. But the alcohol is liquid courage, and you’re a senior after all. Once this semester is over, you’re out in the real world, done with Citadel University. 

“You’re popular with the ladies of campus,” you tell him, “and the men, and everyone else.”

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Oh really?” he asks.

“Of course, I mean you’re the youngest tenured professor, you are a hard ass grader but your lectures are so enticing, and it helps you’re easy on the eyes-”

You choke as soon as the sentence escapes you. A freudian slip if you’ve ever had one. Aemond’s mouth quirks up into a wolfish grin.

“I’m so sorry,” you tell him, covering your mouth.

“It’s alright,” he assures you, but you’re off on a nervous ramble.

“That was seriously so shallow of me and inappropriate to say-”

“Y/N,” he says, resting a hand on your knee, “It’s alright, really.”

You laugh nervously, enjoying the feeling of his hand on your leg. You can feel the heat it emits through your tights. His hand is huge, and you lose yourself in the moment wondering how it might feel against the bare flesh of your thighs, you neck-

“I should see if Sara texted,” you tell him, reaching for your phone.

You’re greeted by a dropped pinned location and a text from Sara saying she went home with the blonde from earlier. Lucky bitch. 

“And she’s left me,” you say aloud. 

“Everything alright?” Aemond asks.

“Yeah, yeah. This has been great,” you tell him, “Thank you for keeping me company, but I should probably get home, call an Uber.”

“Let me drive you,” Aemond insists, “It’s no problem.”

You bite your lip. You shouldn’t do this right? He’s your professor, your teacher. 

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods.

That’s how you end up in the passenger seat of his mercedes, the dark leather seats warm and inviting. You know you’re staring as you watch him drive, long fingers gripping the wheel, the other hand resting on his knee. 

As you pull up to your apartment, you swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. You almost want to invite him up. He watches you closely, as though sensing the words swimming around your head. No, you're not doing this.

“Thank you, professor, I appreciate it,” you tell him, leaving it at that. 

“I think I embarrassed myself big time Sara,” you tell her groaning on the phone. 

There wasn’t much time to debrief the night before Sara had to head back to Winterfell. You brought yourself to the campus coffee shop, settling in to complete some homework while you had some free time. 

You’d been staring at your laptop screen, and the empty word doc that was pulled up, for the better part of an hour before deciding to call Sara. 

“You did not,” she insists, “I don’t care if he is your professor, he was totally into you.”

“He was just being polite.”

“I know polite, and I know eye fucking. Professor Big Dick was the latter,” Sara insists.

“Sara!”

“You know I’m right,” she tells you.

“Fuck,” you tell her, placing a hand against your forehead.

“Look, if you’re that worried about it, go talk to him,” Sara says, “Drop by his office or something, bring him a coffee and tell him you’re sorry.”

“You don’t think that’s weird?” you ask, nervously chewing your thumb.

“I think it's weird you didn’t suck his dick when he drove you home,” she answers honestly.

“Bye Sara,” you tell her.

“Love you too bitch,” she says, making a kissing noise into the receiver. 

You decide to take Sara’s advice, bringing Aemond a coffee as an apology for your behavior. You walk through the building; it’s quiet with no classes, not many people pass you on your way to the faculty offices. Most doors are closed, but you see Professor Targaryen’s door is ajar, signaling his presence. 

You’d been to his office one time before, dropping in for office hours the previous semester when working on your midterm. He grilled you hard, and you left feeling frustrated but with a strong desire to please him. You always did crave academic validation. 

You knock on the door, greeted by Aemond’s gentle timbre telling you to enter. He’s seated behind his desk, a book open on his lap. He’s wearing gray slacks, a simple button down shirt and his silver hair is pulled away from his face in a loose, low bun. His violet eye lights up as you enter, blue sapphire prosthetic winking in the afternoon light that filters through his window.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” you tell him, closing the door behind you.

You walk further into the room and place the coffee cup on his desk.

“What’s this?” he asks, closing his book and placing it on the desk. 

“An apology from a tremendously bright student?” you tell him, smiling nervously.

“What do you need to be apologizing for?” he asks, picking up the coffee, inspecting the order on the side.

You chose black to be safe, not knowing this is how he preferred his coffee. Aemond takes a sip, humming appreciatively. 

“I just really didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I know I was a little tipsy, and I hope I didn’t cross a line or anything,” you tell him. 

Aemond stands, picking up his book and walking over to his bookshelf. It’s stacked with books, classics and other contemporary novels. 

“You’re very thoughtful, Ms. Y/L/N,” he comments, sliding the book back where it belongs. 

“Thank you, professor,” you tell him.

“If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me,” he tells you, walking in front of his desk.

He leans his back against it, resting his palms on the edge. 

“Why would you apologize?” you ask, tilting your head with curiosity.

“Well, if anyone’s responsible for making our interaction inappropriate it's me,” he tells you, jutting out his sharp chin, “I’m your professor, you’re my student.”

You flick an eyebrow up at him.

“You were my professor,” you tell him, “I’m not in your class anymore.”

“Still, that power imbalance doesn’t just go away,” he insists, eyes meeting yours.

There it is again, that look. The one with such intensity it makes your knees weak. You can see his tongue poking his cheek as though he’s contemplating something. Your breath catches in your throat and you nervously wet your lips. 

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you tell him, “No more flirting with strangers at wine bars for me.”

“I’m not a stranger,” he says.

“You know what I mean,” you tell him. 

The air between you is warm and inviting. It’s like the bar all over again, you can feel some invisible force pulling you closer to him with every word you exchange. It’s so effortless, this playful banter, you fall into it easily with him. You have to stop, have to stop before you cross another line. 

“Anyway, take the coffee,” you tell him, “and let me know if you decide to run that summer class, cause I’ll totally take it.”

“You’re graduating,” he teases.

“They’ll let me hang around, I can be very persuasive,” you insist, kicking yourself for the insinuation.

Aemond lets out a breathless laugh. 

“I’m sure,” he says smirking. 

You stare a moment longer, appreciating how his tall, lean frame looks resting against his desk. Your gaze drops to his hands again. His hands. You blink, steadying yourself, but he’s definitely noticed the mental lag you had. 

“Goodbye, Professor,” you tell him, “Have a good rest of your day.”

You turn walking toward the door. You reach for the handle, pulling it open slightly before a hand reaches above your head, pushing it shut. He keeps his hand on the door as you turn around to face him. 

“Don’t leave,” he murmurs, bringing his opposite hand to trace a line down the side of your face, before cupping your cheek.

Your breathing turns ragged as his thumb strokes your cheekbone. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips, and smell his cologne. His hand strokes the doorframe, following into down until he reaches the handle, flicking the lock into place. 

“I thought we weren’t doing this,” you whisper, hands clenched into fists at your sides. 

“Then why’d you come here?” he purrs.

“I was being nice,” you tell him, as he brings his other hand to your waist, pulling you against him.

“Such a good girl you are,” he whispers and then his lips are on yours. 

Your hands fly to his neck instinctively, pulling him as close to you as possible. His mouth feels so perfect against yours, the mingled taste of spearmint and coffee sharp on your tongue as you greedily drink him in. Your hands fist the back of his shirt. 

You’re practically gasping against his mouth as his hands move to cup your ass, before he bends his knees to lift you up by your thighs. You wrap your legs around his slender waist, continuing to kiss him all the while, moaning as he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

He turns, walking you away from the door and placing you on the corner of his desk, hastily brushing his arm to move loose papers and knick knacks out of the way, sending them crashing towards the floor. Not that either of you care. Your hands work quickly, tearing at the buttons on his shirt, revealing his chest. Your nails rake down his abs, reaching for his belt. You’re desperate and you don’t care, you need to feel him inside you. 

Aemond removes his lips from yours, laughing breathlessly at your eagerness before swatting your hands away. 

“Let me,” he murmurs, sinking to his knees in front of you. 

His hands travel up your thighs and you squirm against his touch as they disappear beneath your skirt. You feel his dexterous fingers loop through your underwear pulling it off of you. You assist him, bunching your skirt in your hands revealing your dripping cunt to him.

“So wet for me,” he purrs, “Are you always like this?”

“Fuck,” you mewl as his tongue flicks out, tasting the wetness between your folds.

He hums with appreciation, as though tasting a fine wine. Aemond pressing his face into you, nose nuzzling against your clit, sending spark waves of pleasure dancing upwards toward your navel. His tongue swirls around your center, dipping into your tight heat. 

“Did you sit through my lectures with your pussy dripping like this?” he asks, voice rough with desire. 

You squirm against his mouth as he wraps his lips around your needy clit, suckling gently and flicking his tongue around the sensitive nub. Your hand flies to the back of his head, foot digging into his shoulder blade. 

His hand squeezes your inner thigh roughly, before slapping the tender flesh causing you to cry out. 

“Oh gods,” you moan, head tilting back in the throes of pleasure. 

“I bet you did,” he answers his own question, smirking at you. 

He moves his attention away from your clit momentarily, dragging a finger through your folds. You can’t see his hands but you can picture them, his long, skilled fingers as you feel him sink one into your tight heat. 

Your spine curves, pushing your pussy closer toward his face as his finger searches for that special spot inside of you. 

“Oh fuck, fuck!” you cry as the pad of his finger pressing against the spot inside of you that paints stars behind your eyelids.

Aemond glances up at you, watches as your brow creases with pleasure, and your mouth forms a perfect O shape. 

“There we go,” Aemond purrs, wasting no time and slipping another finger inside of you. 

Every crook of his fingers has you trembling against him, his pace relentless as pressing against your g-spot. He brings his attention back to your throbbing clit, increasing the pleasure building in your abdomen, tingling up your spine. His tongue laps away, little kitten licks against the sensitive button drawing you closer and closer to orgasm with each flick. 

Tears well in the corners of your eyes and your nails dig harshly into his scalp, not that he seems to mind. Aemond simply groans against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure. 

“I’m gonna come,” you pathetically whine, shaking against the desk.

“That’s a good girl, c’mon,” Aemond insists, slipping a third finger inside you.

The wet slurping of your soaked cunt echoes in the room as he never relents the stokes of his fingers, the flicking of his tongue. It’s all too much and the tightly wound coil of pleasure inside you snaps with a strangled sob. As your high washes over you, all the tension in your body releases. 

Only Aemond doesn’t stop.

“Professor,” you moan, feeling the wave cresting inside of you again.

His fingers are soaked, easily sliding in and out of your greedy cunt. 

“Please, please, it’s too much,” you beg, slumping against the desk.

“But you’re such a good girl,” he insists, “You deserve one more, give me one more.”

“I can’t- holy shit!” you squeak, as his lips suck your clit.

You’ve never been treated like this before. One orgasm-if you’re lucky-has been your experience with your past lovers. But you can’t deny him as his fingers work their magic, his tongue swirls around your puffy clit. 

“Yes you can,” he purrs, and of course he’s right as you feel yourself thrown over the edge of pleasure once more. 

“One more,” Aemond insists and you feel tears leaking down your cheeks.

“Professor I can’t-” you tell him, and he shushes you.

“One more, on my cock, huh?” he asks, unbuckling his belt, “Yeah, you like that idea baby?”

Your eyes light up, and you push yourself on your elbows to watch as he reveals his impressive length. Sara’s always told you guys who are lean are usually well endowed. Boy was she right. Your eyes widen taking in his length, as he grips it in his hand, pumping it. You bite your lip, watching precum leak from the reddened tip.

“I changed my mind,” he says roughly, dragging you toward him like a wolf with its prey, “Two more, you’ll give me two more.”

Your eyes are round as he drags his cock through your folds. You wiggles as he drags the tip over your clit, up and down, using your arousal as lubricant. 

“You’ll cum just like this,” he says, continuing the movement against your sensitive clit.

You’re squeaking and moaning embarrassingly, wriggling like a trapped kitten as he holds your thigh tightly with one hand, while the other continues to rub the head of his cock against your clit. Your third orgasm builds quickly and crashes over you just as powerful as the first two, leaving you gasping for air. 

“So pretty like this,” Aemond murmurs, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to kiss you. 

You whimper against his mouth and his hands move to your shirt, breaking the kiss only to pull the material off of your head. You reach around to unclip your bra, leaving your breasts free and hanging heavy with need. Aemond brings his attention to them immediately, his erection pressing against your thigh as he circlies your nipple with his hot mouth, sucking on your breast. 

You’re babbling uncontrollably at this point as he switches, suckling at your neglected other breast before aligning his cock with your soaked entrance. 

“You sure?” he asks, hesitating for a moment. 

“I’m on birth control,” you manage to gasp, “I’m sure, please, please.”

Aemond grins wolfishly before sinking into your wet heat. His jaw slacks as your pussy greedily accepts him, warm walls holding him firmly inside as he stretches you out.

“So fucking tight,” he murmurs, slowly dragging out only to thrust back in, balls slapping against your ass. 

Your head is full of cotton at this point, unable to form coherent thoughts as he plows into you. His hands rest securely on your lower ribs, as your own hands grip the back of your thighs, allowing your legs to bend at the knee. Your back is arched off of the desk, head thrown back and mouth hanging open in pleasure. 

“You like that?” he asks.

You can’t find it in you to reply, answering only in a breathy moan. Aemond merely chuckles.

“Awww did I fuck you stupid, baby?” he teases, causing you to whimper.

He feels so fucking good, sliding easily in and out of your tight walls, the sounds of lewd, wet slapping filling his office. It’s filthy, it’s erotic, and it’s so so bad of you but you can’t help but love the position you’ve found yourself in. 

“I think I did,” he continues, “Poor, silly, baby thought she could handle it her professor fucking her.” 

Desire and humiliation tingle up your spine, spreading across your body like wildfire at his taunts. The pitch of your moans increase as he brings his fingers to play with your clit. 

“She’s all cockdumb now,” Aemond croons, squeezing your breast.

He releases your breast to bring a hand to grab at your chin.

“Look at me,” he demands, and you do so with tears in your eyes.

The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot, rubbing the tender spot with precise devotion. 

“You’re going to cum all over my cock,” he tells you, “Soak my cock like the good little girl you are.”

He keeps his hand on your face, forcing you to look at him as he plows into you and your fourth orgasm rolls over you. It’s intense, almost painful with the pleasure it brings you as your walls clamp down against his cock. 

“Fuck, baby,” he moans as you tighten around him and he chases his own release.

“I’m going to fill this pretty pussy up,” he tells you, and you feel him spill inside of you, warmth flooding through you. 

You stay connected for a moment, relishing the feeling of him inside of you. You’re incredibly sensitive from the overstimulation as he begins to pull out, moaning slightly with the loss of contact. 

Aemond grabs some tissues, gently wiping down your inner thighs and beginning to clean you up. He glances up at you as you attempt to find your bearings.

“Holy. Hell.” you tell him, breathing heavily. 

Aemond smirks.

“Was that too much?” he asks, a note of concern in his voice. 

You shake your head. 

“That was amazing,” you tell him, shyly looking away. 

You grab your bra, putting it on and reaching for your shirt as he stands. You clip your bra, pulling your shirt over your head as he hands you your discarded panties. 

“Thanks,” you tell him, standing on shaky legs.

You nearly fall over putting your panties back on, Aemond’s arms catch you, helping you stand. 

You chuckle nervously. 

“You sure you’re alright?” he asks, his arms still holding you.

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I should go though.”

“Of course,” he tells you.

You move toward the door but pause, turning to look at him. He’s just finishing buttoning up his shirt.

“Was this…was this a one time thing?” you ask.

Aemond looks up at you.

“It should be,” he tells you.

Your heart flutters in your chest, and a smirk tugs at your lips.

“That’s not an answer,” you tell him.

He smirks at you.

“No, it isn’t,” he agrees. 

You hold his gaze a moment more. 

“I’ll see you around, professor,” you tell him, unlocking the door and leaving his office. 

You walk quickly, heat pounding, desperate to get back to your apartment and call Sara. You hop on the campus bus, holding tightly to the railing, trying to ignore the dull ache between your legs, and the warmth of Aemond’s cum that is still trickling down your thighs. 

Boy are you fucked. 

note: I hope you liked it my loves! Again, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!! For all your support and love. I'm truly so lucky to have such amazing support on this site and a place to post my silly little stories. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! until next time besties 😘

HOTD TAGLIST GENERAL: @bluevxnuss, @thattargboy, @xlilacfrostx, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @marvelescape, @geminithrone, @deltamoon666, @i-killed-ramsey, @tempt-ress, @eddiemadmunson, @zillahvathek, @hangmanscoming, @jojoesq, @f4ll-for-you, @rwdkarla, @cc13723things, @filipiniamultifandom, @watercolorskyy @alexxavicry @sachafirebringer @polireader @jamespotterismydaddy @grv7ay9In35s @sofiaadler @sophielangdonx @doublesparrows, @sophielangdonx, @alitaar, @castellomargot, @paodemorangol1l1, @nik2blog, @arkainea @eddiemadmunson, @malfoytargaryen, @eudximoniax, @targaryen-world, @ghostheartbeat @savagemickey03, @aemondsdaemons, @candypurplebutterfly, @eddiemadmunson, @xxnaly2, @ghostheartbeat, @savagemickey03, @dieg0brandos-wife, @paodemorangol1l1, @hb8301, @padfooteyes, @valeskafics @doublesparrows, @bornbetter, @beyond-the-ashes, @clairacassidy, @aslanvez, @loglady00, @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly, @minami97, @serving-targaryen-realness, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @possiblyafangirl, @shmexie, @winter-soldier-101, @kaelatargaryen, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @floswife, @mizfortuna, @strawberryduvet, @girlwith-thepearlearring, @arryn-nyx, @namelesslosers, @hopelesswritergall

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AEMOND TAGLIST: @warmfieldofgrass

BOLD MEANS I COULD NOT TAG

drop a comment or DM me for Taglist info!

[shanieveh]

REVERSE 07↺: this isn’t the end

wriothesley x fem!reader

Now playing: From the start — Laufey

“Dear Wriothesley,”

The letter was in his hand, like it was in yours before.

Your hand.

One that he used to touch, to feel, to hold.

“I’m leaving, I recently got the scholarship and I dont want anything to disturb me, not even you.”

At that time, he was filled with life, but he understood now. That life was always something he had to sacrifice so much for.

“Thank you for introducing me to your silly tea parties, as we delude ourselves to be the seven deadly sins.”

A breath, a tear, a memory.

“I know you’ll fill that party, the three of us will turn to seven. I would dearly miss being lust, and trying to kiss you.”

He continued reading it.

“So take risks okay! I know you wanted that basketball spot, so practice. Not to much tea now, will you.”

He looks back at his trophy room, one where you once lay with him as he tells you his dreams and aspirations.

“Election is coming up though, how about you start from the bottom and work your way up to the top! Maybe you can get representative of the batch now, oh I can’t wait to see you president!”

Laufey was always your favorite artist, he remembered memorizing a whole song to sing to you. He courted you for months, he loved you for years.

“But I reject you Rio, after all the flowers and songs, I realized this relationship was worthless.”

He was worthless.

He remembered being mad about everything, how can he not when he was the used to being alone in everything. He begged for you to notice him months prior, to just be in the same room as him.

Just a few months later, you came back a new person, a person he never knew. It was like you lost everything, with the brand new friends. But he will always keep his promise.

After all he knew why you had to leave, it was all his fault.

He rejected you, he ignored you, a bit of him loathe your whole existence. Wriothesley couldn’t bear even drinking tea, not until a purple haired girl told him he was allowed to be happy.

And that purple haired, turns to a whole circle of friends, one of his own.

But the duke remembers the clear words he said, running after you, the moment he read the whole letter.

“One day, if we no longer have burdens to deal with, can you finally pick me?”

One day, this isn’t the end.

Even if it meant just being friends, just seeing you from afar, he would do it all for your happiness.

He never understood why you changed, and he never understood why he still loved you anyway.

“So I’ll take my goodbyes. Thank you for the memories and I’m sorry for my rejection, I hope you find someone better.”

——————————[ 06 —↺— 08 ]——————————

the whole campus knows about your 3 year crush on the student body president and basketball captain wriothesley. you were fine with his constant ignoring and rejections until something happened, until you stopped, and a reverse took place... now he won't leave you alone.

TAGLIST I: @vash-yuu @nayukiyukihira @aethion @whodissbitj @astolary @ayayaaayyiirel @randomidk-123 @superdark-soul @sleepy-waffle @kittywagun @ceaether @ichorstainedskin @numwoon44 @eutopiastar @reni502 @fictionalfantasy17 @lucienbarkbark @kyon-cherri @huanator @jqnehr @yourlittlemissworld @zworllyx @unknownlololol @sara-midnight @jaguarthecat @we-wo-we-wo @duhsies @interstellar-equilibrium @ariparri @lolmeowing @aruatsu @k-cris @quacking-simp @vlamouren @semi-orangeapple @tamikahoshiko @imnotgoodwithnamessoidk @portgas459ace @r4yyyyy @vxnuslogy @kazuhasmaid @explosive-wuisa @falors @rirk-ke @shotovhs @aixaingela @ruhaxol @yelleloww @sc1twi @ash4ree

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: Queer horror, part 1

We all like a good horror story, right? You know what's even better? A queer horror story!

A note: queer here does not necessarily mean “guarantee of an f/f or m/m ship with a happy ending”, but rather simply a significant presence of queerness. Some of the books feature no romance but has a same gender attracted/trans/ace spectrum lead, or features an m/f relationship with bisexual, trans or aro/ace characters, or simply features a world-building which is heavily queer inclusive in ways that don’t always compare to our own ideas of sexuality and gender. I have however disqualified works where the only queer presence is along the lines of “gay best friend” or a blink and you’ll miss it confirmation that never comes up again.

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle*

Rose, like her parents, believes strongly that homosexuality is a sin, and holds great pride that her home town hosts Camp Damascus, a successful conversion camp for young teens. But Rose is also experiencing strange and terrifying things: memories of a beautiful girl, a demonic figure that shows up if her thoughts stray, flies crawling out her mouth. Something has happened in Rose's past that her parents won't speak of and that she herself can't remember, and Camp Damascus is at the center of it all. Sapphic, autistic main character, as well as a really cool take on demonic lore that is both inspired by and a subversion of christianity.

House of Hollow by Krystal Sutherland*

Young adult. Something happened to Iris Hollow and her two older sisters when they were little; after having gone missing, they were all returned with no memory of what happened and identical scars on their throats. Years have passed since then, and though seen as strange the girls still lead mostly normal lives - that is, until the oldest, Grey, goes missing, leaving strange clues in her path. As Iris searches for her, a strange man with horns starts stalking her and memories start to rise to the forefront in her mind. To save Grey, Iris will have to find out the truth of what happened all those years ago. Features wonderfully morally grey characters. Bisexual lead, but little to no romance.

Winter Tide (The Innsmouth Legacy) by Ruthanna Emrys*

Aphra and her brother are the only survivors after the government raided their home, Innsmouth. Their only living family are the amphibian people of the deep, whom they will one day join, but until then they are bound to land where they struggle to build new lives for themselves after the great loss of their home and loved ones. Then rumors start to spread of a russian agent seeking dangerous and ancient magic, forcing Aphra to involve herself as they try to stop it. Does contain horror elements but is generally a much more optimistic look on cosmic horror than most lovecraftian stories, told from the perspective of one of his monsters. Lots of focus on found family and rebuilding of community. Asexual main character (however I don’t think that becomes in-text confirmed until the sequel) and multiple queer characters in the supporting cast.

Rules for Vanishing by Kate Alice Marshall

Young adult. One year ago, Sara's sister went missing. Since then, Sara has drifted away from her friends, but when she receives a mysterious text inviting her to "play the game" - the same game that supposedly stole her sister away - Sara and her estranged friends all come back together to find her. Together they set off on a path that legend says appears only once a year, leading them toward the ghost Lucy Gallows and, hopefully, Sara's sister. Bisexual main character, told in a faux documentary style.

Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon

A young pregnant woman flees a cult that left her body strange and changing in terrifying ways. Hiding from both a world wanting to oppress her and the cult seeking to force her back, she does her best to raise her children while trying to find out the truth of the cult and being pursued by a hunter in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Bleak and scary, Sorrowland is a book that will creep under your skin with horrors both fantastical and very, very real.

Otherside Picnic (Otherside Picninc lightnovel series) by Iori Miyazawa

Sapphic light novel with a surreal and episodic horror vibe. Following the directions of an urban legend, university student Sorawo finds her way to a reality populated by horrifying creatures from ghost stories and modern urban legends (of which I’m sure you’ll recognize many). Here she teams up with fellow explorer Toriko, both to find out more about this strange world and to help Toriko find a missing loved one. Also available as a manga and (one season of) an anime. Sapphic.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Amrfield

Miri thought she lost her wife Leah when her deep-sea mission ended in a catastrophe. But Leah was miraculously returned to her - or so it seems. Because something happened down there, deep in the ocean, and whatever it was, Leah has brought it back with her. Surreal and strange, Our Wives Under the Sea will not answer all your questions, but it will give you a unique experience.

What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher

Novella. Alex Easton, retired soldier, travels to visit their childhood friends, siblings Madeline and Roderick Usher, after finding out that Madeline is dying. In the siblings’ rural, ancestral home, Madeline walks in her sleep and looks to be fading away, while around it wildlife seems to be possessed by a strange force. With the help of a mycologist and an American doctor, Alex attempts to save Madeline and reveal the truth of her illness. Nonbinary main character.

Alien: Echo by Mira Grant

Young adult. Twin sisters Olivia and Viola’s parents are both xenobiologists, bringing them all over the galaxy. Most recently they’ve settled on a new colony world to study its wildlife, but it proves more dangerous than they could’ve ever imagined. Under attack from alien monsters, the sisters must keep each other alive while also coming to terms with a dark family secret. Sapphic horror. Part of the Alien franchise but stands well on its own.

Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant*

A research vessel heads towards the Mariana Trench in search of answers of what happened to a ship which mysteriously lost all its crew some time earlier. In the deep dark, something intelligent and hungry awaits them. Very much mermaids of the horror variety. Sequel to a novella, can be read as a standalone. Also contains a sapphic romance, however that is a pretty small part of the plot as a whole.

Alice Isn't Dead by Joseph Fink

Based on the podcast by the same name. Keisha Taylor thought she had lost her wife. She even held a funeral and attempted to move on with her life. But then Alice started to appear, all over America, in the background of every single major tragedy in the country. To find her missing wife, Keisha gets a job as a trucker and sets out on a roadtrip, not knowing what horrors awaits her.

Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Young adult. Over a year ago, the Raxter School for Girls was hit by the Tox, a strange disease that killed off many and left the survivors’ bodies slowly changing in terrifying ways. The island the school is on has been in quarantine since then, and the girls dare not leave the school grounds lest they become victims of wild animals changed by the Tox. But as they wait for the promised cure, one of the girls goes missing, and her friends are willing to do anything to find her. Unsettling, spooky, and sapphic, this is a unique read featuring body horror and messy, dangerous girls.

Meddling Kids by Edgar Cantero

Once, Andy, Kerri, Nate, Peter and their faithful dog were known as the Blyton Summer Detective Club, until they hit their fateful final case in 1977. Now, the year is 1990, and the group hasn't gathered in years. Tomboy Andy is wanted in at least two states; Kerri, former kid genius, is tending bar; and horror nerd Nate is in a mental institution in Arkham. At least he still has the company of jock-turned-movie star Peter - except Peter has been dead for years. Now they must all come together to find out the truth of what happened all those years ago. Lovecraftian horror with a sometimes absurdist vibe and adult scooby do inspiration. Sapphic romance.

Contagion by Erin Bowman*

Young adult. After receiving an SOS, a small crew is sent on a standard search-and-rescue mission. But what they find are not survivors awaiting help, but an abandoned site, full of dead bodies and crawling with something… monstrous. No romance, but features one sapphic co-lead and one who can easily be read as demisexual (however this doesn’t show up until book two, which has more romance).

Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand*

Young adult. The isolated island of Sawkill Rock has secrets. It hosts the legend of a local monster, and the very stark reality of decades of girls going missing, never to be found again. Now, three girls stand at the center of the horrific mystery - if only they can come together, perhaps they can save future generations of girls from a monster that may very well be real. Asexual and sapphic main characters, including a sapphic romance.

Salvation Day by Kali Wallace

A decade ago, the massive ship House of Wisdom was abandoned in orbit after its entire crew was killed in an outbreak in a matter of hours. Now, Zahra and her family of outcasts hope to claim the ship as their own by kidnapping the sole survivor to gain access. But the danger of the House of Wisdom is far from gone. Horror, no major romance but one of the main characters is gay.

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling*

Possibly one of the most unstintingly claustrophobic books I’ve ever read, and definitely the most claustrophobic. Gyre, a caver on an alien planet, ventures into the dark and dangerous underground, guided only by a woman who has no compunctions on using and manipulating Gyre as she sees fit to obtain her secretive goals down in the caves. Sapphic in the most messy of ways.

Gideon the Ninth (The Locked Tomb series) by Tamsyn Muir*

Gideon, raised as a swordswoman by unfriendly nuns, would rather run away and make her own life, but her services are needed. The Reverend Daughter, Gideon’s childhood nemesis, has been invited to a trial to win a place as an immortal by the Emperor’s side, and she’s in need of a bodyguard. Listen, if you’re on tumblr I probably don’t need to explain this book to you. Trust me when I say it’s exactly as good as people claim. Humorous and spooky but also absolutely gut wrenching and clever with a lot of political commentary. There are also, indeed, lesbian necromancers in space.

Family Business by Jonathan Sims

By the author behind the Magnus Archives. When Diya's childhood best friend and roommate unexpectedly passes away, Diya falls apart and, among other things, loses her job. When she's offered a position at Slough & Sons to clean up after the deceased, she sees no other recourse but to accept. Her new job is grisly but important, and Diya starts to get back on her feet - until strange visions of a terrifying man and the dead's last moments start to haunt her. Slough & Sons are hiding something, and it's up to Diya to find out the truth. No romance, bisexual main character and trans woman side character.

Sodom Road Exit by Amber Dawn

Starla didn't want to return to her childhood home of Crystal Beach, Canada, but growing debt has forced her to move back in with her mother, despite the trauma hidden in her old home. But Starla is haunted by more than trauma; she is, in fact, literally haunted, by a ghost that may understand her, but may also consume her. Not overly scary, but handles dark subjects such as childhood sexual assault. Lesbian main character and romance.

House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson*

In a world where the rich drink blood to preserve their health, Marion applies to a position as bloodmaid in a notorious noble house far from home. Suddenly showered with luxuries and debauchery, Marion soon gains the interest and favor of Lisavet, countess of the house. A fresh take on the idea of vampires and deliciously dark sapphic romance inspired by the horrific real-life Elisabet Báthory.

A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson

Dracula inspired novella, following Constanta, who’s turned from a medieval peasant to an undead bride. As time passes the relationship between Dracula and Constanta grows all the more strained and potentially dangerous. Teaming up with his two other consorts, she seeks to unravel her husband’s secrets. Sapphic and polyamorous.

Dread Nation (Dread Nation duology) by Justina Ireland

Young adult, alternate history. In this world, the war between the American states is interrupted when the dead start walking the earth and hunting the living. Jane McKeene has been trained at Miss Preston’s School of Combat to become an attendant, skilled in combat as well as etiquette to protect the wealthy. But Jane wants a different life, and in her search for it stumbles headfirst into a conspiracy. Bisexual main character, aroace side character (who becomes a POV character in the sequel).

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

In a future where those with high testosterone are afflicted by a zombie-like disease, bloodthirsty men have become the enemy. Trans women Beth and Fran and trans man Robbie do their best to survive in this brutal world, where TERF movements seek to exterminate them and monstrous men hunt in the wilds. VERY gruesome and bleak, but also very timely in the present political climate.

Leech by Hiron Ennes*

Unbeknownst to humanity, a sentient hive mind has taken over the entire medical profession to ensure the health of their host species. One of their doctors is sent off to an isolated location where they’re cut off from the rest of the hive mind, only to realize they’re faced with a rivaling parasitic entity. Leech hands you only just enough information to get by, and whether its historical fantasy, an alternate timeline, or futuristic post apocalypse is hard to determine. It’s spooky and a bit weird and wildly creative, and does some neat things with gender.

The Outside by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existential crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired sci-fi where reality is warped and artificial gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

The Gilded Abyss by Rebecca Thorne

Nix Marr is a soldier and damned good at it, but that doesn’t prepare her for her next mission: bodyguard for Subarch Kessandra, beloved royal and Nix’s bitter ex. The two venture toward the underwater city of Fall to seek the cause of a bloody murder spree and a possible deadly contagion. But Kessandra has enemies, the answers she seeks marking her as a possible threat for the nation’s rulers. On their way in an isolated and enclosed underwater ship toward Fall, the contagion catches up, and Nix will have to put her hurt feelings aside if the two are to arrive alive. Sci-fi with flavors of horror and the supernatural and a sapphic romance.

[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Violence. Almost smut. Choking. Semi-public. Knee riding.

“The Angel From My Nightmare”

“10 Things I Hate About You”

“Alright, go have fun. Come get me if you need something,” Sara told her younger brother.

“Do you have to stay?” Connor complained as she and Lauren sat at a table.

“Sorry, kiddo. We gotta have fun too,” she teased. “Go. Have fun. We’ll be all the way over here, you won’t even know we’re here.”

That turned out to be completely wrong.

“It’s super crowded in here… Even Heather Hills and her friends are here tonight,” Lauren observed.

“Ew. She puts the ‘bully’ in bulimic,” Sara muttered.

“Yeah, even I’m not that far in denial,” Lauren agreed, turning as everyone noticed a loud feedback coming off of the DJ’s microphone.

The music stopped, and no one knew what was happening.

“Alright, enough of that,” Rodrick Heffley’s voice blasted over the speakers, replacing the music that had been playing.

Everyone at the roller rink stopped to see that he and the rest of the band had set up near the DJ booth, completely hijacking the music.

“Oh my God,” Lauren whispered, looking to Sara. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” Sara hissed, looking at Rodrick in horror.

“We are Löded Diper, and we’re here to blow your minds,” Bill joined in.

“Oh my fucking God,” Sara murmured, trying her best to blend into the crowd as she scooted as far down the bench as possible.

But she quickly found that anonymity definitely wouldn’t be in the cards for her tonight.

“I’m Rodrick. Rodrick Heffley,” a shaky voice breathed into the mic.

“Hurry up!” someone’s dad yelled, more irritated about not hearing music than the whole music hijacking situation.

“Alright, uh… I’m here to sing one song. It’s a very special song, that goes out to a very special girl. Sara? Sara Walter?” Rodrick desperately searched the crowd for her.

He eventually found her, staring right at her as everyone in the roomed stared, including Heather Hills and the other ‘popular’ girls. Sara’s eyes widened with rage as her little brother and his friends all stared in her direction.

“Sara,” Rodrick stared, his eyes full of fear. “I… I’m sorry. You’re the prettiest, smartest girl in the world.”

Sara’s face went pale as she slowly turned to Lauren with all eyes on her.

“What the fuck?” she mouthed silently.

It seemed no one had anything to offer.

“Sara, I know you’re probably mad at me, and you probably should be. You’re beautiful, and you’re kind, and I don’t deserve you,” he blurted out as everyone watched.

Heather and her friends were now whispering and pointing in disgust.

“Listen, Sara, I get it if you never wanna talk to me again… But I really, really like you,” Rodrick announced in front of the entire building.

“Get on with it already!” another impatient onlooker shouted.

“Right, yeah, here goes,” he continued, rambling as he signaled to the band to start playing. “This song is for you, Sara Walter.”

Bill waved to her excitedly, completely unable to read the room as he tried to make the situation less intense. She watched, completely frozen as the band started playing. It was a bit rocky in the first few seconds, but then, she immediately recognized the song after the first few chords.

Struck by the effort that went into coordinating the entire thing, Sara could hardly control her racing thoughts. She didn’t know whether to be angry at Rodrick for the spectacle, or charmed by the gesture, or creeped out by the entire thing.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you…” the sixteen year old boy sang shakily in front of the crowd, his vocals questionable at best.

“'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be

And I don't want to go home right now,”

Some people in the room, namely Heather’s group, laughed and whispered as Rodrick took the stage. Eventually, the teasing throughout the room got to be brutal, but he still persisted, trying his best not to break.

“God, he’s an idiot, but I still feel kinda bad,” Sara murmured.

“Sara. I’m gonna be completely honest with you,” Lauren raised an eyebrow. “You need to go kiss that boy right now.”

“Seriously? I’m just gonna run back into his arms because he made a fool of himself for me?” she reasoned. “That’s his whole brand!”

“Sara,” Lauren reminded her, her approach stern but caring. “Would Jake Anderson ever have performed your favorite slow song for you in a room full of people, even if his singing was pretty dog shit?”

Sara sat in silence for a moment as everyone still looked over at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What about Tyler Hayden? Or Lenwood Heath?”

“Okay, I get your point,” Sara said softly.

“I haven’t seen anybody give this much of a fuck for you since you were with Nadine,” Lauren admitted. “And you know how much I liked you guys.”

“Yeah,” Sara thought, considering her options.

“I think he really means what he says. Even if he’s fucking stupid,” Lauren told her.

Sara just sighed, looking up at Rodrick on the platform as he sang for her, never taking his eyes off her even once. It was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am,”

He sang like his life depended on it, which it kind of did. As much as Sara hated to admit it, she saw a look of genuine regret in his eyes that day. All she could think about was how much she really did like Rodrick, all the way until the end of the song.

It ended and a complete silence washed over the room, as just about everyone just stood around waiting for a resolution. Even security had been waiting until the spectacle was over to intervene. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but it was the first time that yielded any interesting results.

Of course, Heather and her friends wouldn’t stop whispering, but Rodrick refused to pay them any mind. He cleared his throat as the song ended, staring out at Sara with a sad, dopey look in his eyes as he prayed she’d forgive him.

“Fuck it,” Sara muttered to herself, walking out onto the rink.

She marched up to the platform looking both angry and confused. Rodrick didn’t know what to expect, and slowly stepped down in shock. He stood right in front of her, walking up to her as he waited for her to react to him in some way.

“I’m sorry,” he started to apologize, “I didn’t know how to make it up to you—”

“I don’t care,” she said finally, a resolve in her eyes.

“What does that mean?” Rodrick asked, ignoring the girls who were pointing and making fun.

“That means, fuck it, Rodrick Heffley, I’m really starting to like you too.”

Rodrick’s grunt of surprise was muffled into a spontaneous kiss as Sara jumped into his arms, which was met with a mostly positive reaction from their audience. He was hesitant at first, slowly warming up to her again as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her lips like he’d never get the chance to again.

After a moment, they remembered where they were, and Rodrick awkwardly set her down on the ground with reluctance. He looked up and down nervously, not sure what to say now.

“Can we go?” Sara asked, uncomfortable as she looked around.

“Yes,” he nodded automatically, willing to comply to her every whim, “Yes. We can.”

After being kicked out of the roller rink, again, Rodrick and the rest of the band walked out to the parking lot, reviewing their performance that night.

“You know, I know we’re metal and all, but that was fucking beautiful,” Ben seemed to be teary-eyes.

Rodrick and Sara stepped outside for a moment, as she leaned against the wall in silence, trying to think. Knowing what might comfort her, Rodrick pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, opening it as he offered it to her. Nodding appreciatively at the gesture, Sara took one and held it in her mouth as he lit it for her.

“I’m sorry,” Rodrick blurted out finally, a pained but far away expression on his face, “I, uh… I didn’t know how else to show you I meant what I said. That I really, really like you.

“It’s okay,” Sara sighed, just hoping to move on from the issue, “I understand. Really. We all backtrack. I’m over it.”

“No, really. I don’t want you to think I made a scene just to distract from the way I acted,” he said slowly. “I really meant what I said—”

“Rodrick,” she said, eyes wide open, “It’s fine. It’s done. I’m over it.”

“No, I owe you an explanation,” he sighed, “I… I’ve just never had a real girlfriend before…”

“Dude, this isn’t exactly breaking news,” she looked at him with dead eyes.

“Okay, can you just not be a total fucking asshole for like one second?” Rodrick demanded with laughter.

“Okay, fine,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “I’m listening.”

The look on her face was less than convincing.

“You’re a bitch,” Rodrick laughed, no longer able to take himself seriously, “You’re a fucking bitch,” he pointed at her, his finger less than an inch from her face.

“Oh yeah?” she teased with a light chuckle, cigarette butt dropped to the ground and forgotten.

“Yeah.”

He stood in front of her, trying to remain serious as he leaned against the wall, his hand resting just above her head.

“You’re a fucking bitch,” he repeated playfully, trying to perfect his more serious demeanor.

“Am I a bitch, or are you just a little bitch?” Sara proposed, intentionally provoking him.

“No. You’re just a bitch,” he promised her.

Neither were sure exactly how it happened, but as he got in her face and challenged her, he attempted to jokingly pin her to the wall. At first, this entailed his arm resting on her chest, but then suddenly turned into something else entirely.

Rodrick didn’t intend it at all, but suddenly, the both of them found his hand slipped as he held her by the throat, still grinning.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he told her, before coming to and realizing that he was actually choking her.

First, his eyes fluttered as he realized the mistake he’d made, but once he saw he’d reaction, he felt himself giving into it.

“Fuck,” he moaned out loud, his finger pads pressing on her pressure points harder.

She softly sighed in excitement, the contact with the pressure points heightening the experience even more. Rodrick looked at her with pleading eyes as he choked her, admiring her gratuitously.

He leaned in to kiss her, groaning into her mouth as he pressed her against the wall with his large hand wrapped around her neck. She reacted by pulling him in by the collar, making him feel something even more euphoric. She deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth as he slowly moved his leg up her body, not stopping until his knee trailed down to her center.

For just a moment, he stopped kissing Sara, huffing softly into the warm skin of her neck.

“Is it bad that I kinda wanna see you fuck my knee right now?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “And it’s hot.”

He chuckled happily as he sucked on her neck, roughly biting and sucking. He pushed his knee against her, practically fucking her with it against the wall behind the roller rink. She quietly groaned in frustration as she tried to align herself perfectly on his knee.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he gasped, eyes closed as he kissed all over her neck. “I hope you know you could ask me for anything. I’d do anything for you, or to you.”

“You’re so sexy,” Sara whined.

“I’m serious. If you wanted me to, I’d eat it from the back, and enjoy it,” he said completely deadpan. “All I wanna do is take you home and lay you down and make you come any way I know how.”

“We should probably stop this,” Sara thought intuitively, “Before this wall ends up pregnant.”

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you. And not cuz I think you’re hot,” Rodrick stated. “Honestly. I just see you and I wanna give you everything.”

“You already have,” she confessed, never having seen anyone so willing to risk things for her.

-

A/N: not sure if this is good, wrote it after doing a line

-

[wlwsoccerfics]

Teenage Boy Behavior(Laura FreigangxBrandReader)

Warning: mentions of s*xual tension & more.

National Team Camp was always fun. This one was not any different. You have just arrived together with your teammates from VfL Wolfsburg. Jule being one of them. She also happens to be your twin sister. You are fraternal twins though. You were excited to see your best friend Klara who plays for Bayern Munich and your girlfriend Laura who plays for Eintracht Frankfurt.

"Laura is so eager to greet you she almost stumbled over her own two feet!" Jule told you.

"well we haven't seen eachother in like two months. So can't blame her!" You replied and manage to catch Laura just in time because she jumped into your arms. "Angel face!" She happily called out, kissing you gently. Taking you by a bit of surprise. But you kiss back and things got a bit more heated with the kiss,so you are now the one that is stumbling, trying to keep her balance.

"No way these two are sharing a room! They won't be sleeping that's for sure!" Someone yelled out. It was Selina. "These two have the room next to me! Imagine how i feel?! That's my twin sister!" Jule replied. "Y/n! Stop making out with your Girl and get your ass over here! I want a hug!" Your best friend yelled. During all of the comments you didn't care about what was said and kept making out with Laura but when you heard Klara you broke the kiss. Looking at your best friend. Laura broke free from your arms and stood up, sighing softly. "Cock Block!" She mumbled out. You giggled and ran over to Klara. "Hi!" You happily yelled out and hug your best friend. " Hi, i missed you so much! Not as much as Laura cause i don't want to jump your Bones but still quite alot!" She answered and laughed softly. You playfully slap her shoulder. "Very funny, Klara!" You answered and roll your eyes in a joking manner.

You had an hour to get settled into your room with Laura but for very valid reasons the Team didn't trust the two of you not to get tangled in the Sheets together so Kathy & Giulia got stuck with basically Babysitting the two of you. Especially Laura cause the blonde was staring at you with a look that suggested your clothes wouldn't be on your Body anymore If the two of you would be alone. Which is exactly the reason the Team didn't trust you and they did regret having the two of you in the same room. "Really the two of you can go! I can behave myself! Laura told Giulia and Kathy. "Yeah sure! And pigs can fly!" Giulia said and shook her head in disbelief. "No one belives you Laura. You start drooling whenever someone mentions y/n's name. So leaving you two before a Training Session is not gonna happen!" Kathy added. You look around for your favorite pair of sneakers to wear for tomorrow, ignoring the talk going on in your room. realizing you forgot the pair of sneakers. good thing Jule has the same Sneakers and she would probably be fine with you wearing them tomorrow.

The four of You quickly got ready for practice and met up with the rest by the field. Warming Up first. Standing in a circle with Klara, Lea, Pia, Sara & Lena. All of you were doing some leg stretches. "Seriously y/n Laura is like a Teenage Boy when it comes to you!" Sara replied. Pia chuckled softly. "I mean yes it was alot but i have seen worse." She answered. The others giggled at that. "Oh Pia you haven't seen the half of it. Let me show you what they mean when we hit the Pool tonight!" You told her, grinning softly. you knew exactly what to do to get Laura all worked up. Not that you actually had to do alot for that.

After warming up you practiced some standards, especially corners. Then you did a little practice game.

After dinner you all went to the pool. You were still wearing a T-Shirt over your Bikini because you had promised to show Pia what the others meant when they said Laura was like a Teenage Boy sometimes. You laid in between Jule & Klara. Next to Klara was Pia & next to her was Vivi. Laura came down and walked towards the Pool & you notice her eyes on you, but pretend you didn't see her. 'casually' taking off your t-shirt making sure you are turned towards her. When she saw your breasts in that new Bikini top she stared at you, mouth wide open. Not paying attention to where she was going. Almost tripping over her own two feet. Everyone was giggling at her reaction. "Damn she is down bad!" Pia said. This was quite entertaining to watch. When she reached you she was a little out of breath. "Y-you look stunning Babe! I love that new Bikini top!" Your girlfriend told you. Taking your hand in hers. Eyes focused on your chest. "Babe my eyes are up here!" You tell her, using your intertwined hands to gently grab her face. The others were watching and giggling, whispering with one another. You move really close to her, whispering into her ear. "I know you would love to take that top off of me...so today is your lucky day! When we are back in our room you can!" You let her know. That was enough for her, she let out a small growl and swallowed hard, grabbing you and throwing you over her shoulder. "We are tired! It's nap time!" She announced before walking to the room you two shared with you on her shoulder.

"we better stay away from that room for the next hour!" Vivi stated. Jule shivered. "These two are Like rabbits!" Klara answered. "Okay please Stop! Y/n is my sister! Don't want to think about what These two are doing in there! Such Teenage Boys!" Jule replied.

The next hour was quite eventful. And it was only das one of national Camp. The others had to deal with the two of you for 20 more days. How fun!

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (3/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: without ona, you find other ways to fill the hole in your heart, as the consequences of your own actions come back to haunt you.

word count: 7.0k

a/n: holy shit is this one long. some more cameos for the plot who are all good bros to our dumbasses in love 👍

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V

2018, 5 years ago.

You always hated it when your hands shake after adrenaline rushes. It felt debilitating, like you weren’t able to make rational decisions because all you could think about was trying to hide your trembling hands.

When your coach called you into his office, you were still cradling your right hand, the other pressing an ice pack to the bruise starting to form on your right knuckles. The way he pointed with his head for you to follow him—doing so without a word—reaffirmed that you were definitely in trouble.

It was a warm day in May, and yet you had two training sessions to complete. You were drenched in sweat afterwards, your body warm and buzzing like a furnace. Definitely not a good day to be pissed off.

Coach Dennis sat in his chair behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him. His lips were curling and jutting out like they always did whenever he was concentrating or trying to look angry. It made him look like a fish.

A silence followed, and then he spoke. “Are you aware of what you did?”

You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from blurting out something sarcastic. “I punched a teammate, Coach.”

“You’re aware that that could get you released, don’t you, Y/N?” He asked. “NYCFC has zero tolerance for violence within the first team, much less the youth academy.”

You lowered your head. Your hands were shaking much less now.

“May I ask why you did it?” Coach pressed further when he didn’t receive an answer.

So you told him. There was a group of girls that had been picking on you for years now. You were never the biggest or strongest, so you used your techniques to weave the ball through defenders, to make you stand out, and it pissed them off.

“So you punched one of them.”

“They were cornering me.” You said simply, looking up at him for the first time since the meeting started.

The man sighed and covered his nose and mouth with his palms. You might have reduced his lifespan by a decade right then.

“Y/N, I know you. I know you will stand up for yourself, and I expect nothing less from you, but this kind of behavior will not and cannot fly here. That’s why I’m telling you this, because I know you’ll be special one day.”

“Those girls are bullies, Coach. They don’t deserve to be here. You should be punishing them!”

“They will get their punishment in due time, but you still punched a teammate,” he said firmly. “You did what you thought was right, but violence is never the answer. You can’t punch your way out of everything.”

“Are you kicking me out?” You asked, trying to remain stoic, yet you were fiddling with your fingers.

“No. I’m blocking your Dallas offer.”

FC Dallas had been one of the top scouts that have had their eyes on you, and you had been working extra hard to impress them. This was your chance to break into their first team, and it was gone.

“You can’t do that!”

“Yes, I can.” He pressed.

“Coach, please—”

“Thank you, Y/N.” He cut you off. “You may leave.”

Leaving Dennis’ office, and walking down the hallway, your eyes caught Sara—the girl you punched—sitting in the infirmary, her face tear-stained, red, and blotchy. She had always looked at you with disdain, but now there was a fear in her gaze as she caught yours from far away. When she did, you got a better look at the damage you’d done to her face. You suddenly felt that shame you should have felt back in the office.

“Yo, Y/N,” you heard someone call when you were outside. “I heard about what happened.”

“You’re gonna lecture me, Gio? ‘Cause Dennis already did.”

“No, man. I was gonna say how badass that was,” he grinned.

A slow grin spread on your face. You shook your head, as Gio put his arm around your shoulder and you walked to the cafeteria.

You met Giovanni Reyna a few years ago when you first joined the academy. In a training session where both the boys and girls participated, you were paired with him for finishing drills. With a hard tackle, he’d almost put you in the hospital. Ever since then, you had been stuck to the hip. He was the first friend you made and the longest friend you’d ever had.

You’d stay another year at NYCFC, honing your skills, and avoiding another run-in with your bullies until the transfer window was near. You were still waiting for FC Dallas to call back, as you had for a year now. It was the only place you wanted, and while you knew it was risky to do so, it was your gateway to Europe through their partnership with Bayern Munich.

“Sara is going to the Red Stars, did you hear?”

“Dylan’s going to Orlando Pride.”

“I heard Hope and Mary-Anne are going to Roma and Lyon!”

You had tried to block out the gossip in the cafeteria, but it made you doubt yourself. What did they have that you didn’t? Yes, you weren’t the tallest or strongest, but neither were Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro. But maybe that was just it; you were not Messi, Xavi, or Aguëro, and you would never be.

Gio was leaving too, there had never been any doubt about that; his dad was a U.S. legend, and it was only natural that he’d give the best to his son. Besides, Gio might have been the next best thing after Christian Pulisic skyrocketed to fame within the past few years. The boy’s move to Borussia Dortmund was almost imminent, and people had been whispering about it for weeks, but you were the one he told first.

“When do you leave?” You asked, picking at the food on your tray. Gio and you were sitting outside having lunch.

“Beginning of June,” he said.

“I’m happy for you,” you muttered, voice cracking quietly, but a small smile remained on your face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Don’t be sorry. This is a good thing,” you smiled, nodding as you grabbed his hand over the table. “I’ll just miss you a ton.”

“Hey,” Gio searched for your eyes. “I have no doubt that you’ll be scouted soon. I know it. I know you have what it takes to be at the top, whether it’s in Europe, or here.”

Your best friend left less than a month later. You had wrapped your arms around him so tightly and hid your face in his neck, afraid you might bawl like a baby the last time you saw him on the training ground. But you didn’t cry then.

You did cry, though, when Coach Dennis called you into his office again a week later. This time, instead of expressing his disappointment in you, he hugged you tight, congratulated you, and let you read the email that Portland Thorns FC sent to request a transfer for you to their first team.

2023, present.

“You ever thought about what you’d be doing if you weren’t playing football?”

You had just drifted off a bit when the voice next to you spoke. Furrowing your eyebrows, you wondered how she wasn’t absolutely battered.

“Don’t know. Never had a plan B. Didn’t want to.”

“Right. But I feel like, I go to training, I kick the ball, people come and watch me, and then when I go home after, I don’t know who I am. It’s like . . . I’m nothing without the footballer.”

You didn’t expect your hookup to be opening up to you like this. You’d only just met her a few hours ago at a club. You had played against her a few times in the league but had never spoken to her face-to-face. Though not the best on the dance floor, she made an excellent dance partner in bed.

“Well, having a personality is overrated nowadays anyway.” You replied, closing your eyes again. “Nobody cares who you are until you fuck up on the pitch, so just don’t fuck up on the pitch.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “You have your starter place at City guaranteed.”

You ignored her and turned to the other side. A few minutes later, you heard the sheets shuffling, then the sound of a zipper. “This was fun,” she whispered before you heard your bedroom door opening and closing.

No barks, it meant Bratwurst was asleep, luckily for your ears. Most people you had been bringing home he had been barking at. You wanted to think it was him being protective over you, but he would bark at your teammates too when they would come over, except for one person.

Ever since you came back from the World Cup much earlier than you had anticipated, you liked to find company at clubs and parties. In your time of need, you’d found that you preferred sporadic ones, fewer complications, and headaches.

You were also invited to events; award shows, the British Grand Prix, and a few fashion shows. Those you never really bothered with, but they were chances for your stylist to go crazy with the outfits (which you never complained).

The only good thing to come out of those, however, was seeing Gio again at Paris Fashion Week. The moment you saw him, you gladly accepted it when he brought you into a tight hug, feeling like that 13-year-old again when you first met. You kept in touch over the years, but your schedules were always too different to ever meet up. But it was as if no time had passed, and the only thing that kept you both from talking till morning was that Gio needed rest for his rehabilitation training the next day.

“I’m going on a trip to Ibiza soon with a few friends. You should come,” he said.

“I don’t know, G. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t. I want you to come. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Just because you have a girlfriend now doesn't mean you’re allowed to set me up,” you smirked and shoved him.

“I’ve seen the stuff that came out about you, Y/N,” he sighed. “Is it true?”

“I’m not doing anything illegal if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s not what I meant. About you being seen at clubs day in and day out. What is this really about, Y/N?”

You know Gio wanted the best for you, even though sometimes he was too stubborn to admit it. You were too, but you loved him to bits. Maybe that’s why you two fit together so well.

“I let someone close to my heart, and it fucked me over.”

Gio nodded softly. “Well then. Just consider it a vacation. She’ll still be there though.”

“And you won’t make me go out with her?”

“As if I can make you do anything.”

Unless you were legally prohibited or physically unable to, you would never turn down a proper party. So there you were, on a yacht in Ibiza with your best friend and several other people in his entourage. Gio, that little shit, though having promised not to set you up, was elbowing you at a woman the moment she set foot on the yacht. Anyone with eyes would say that she was beautiful; curly hair, plump lips, and soulful eyes you could get lost in.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It didn’t hurt to try.

You went over to the bar where she stood and ordered a drink. Glancing behind your shoulder, you noticed Gio sending you a big thumbs-up.

“So, you are the one Gio keeps raving on about,” said the woman next to you. Her eyes were really pretty.

“I guess so. That’s me,” you let out a laugh, albeit shakily. “Am I everything you dreamed of and more?”

It was her turn to laugh. “He definitely mentioned your confidence, yes.”

“Well, then I’ll definitely keep you around for sure. But just so you know, I do other things besides kick a football around and look pretty doing it.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself,” you smirked. “I’m Y/N,” you extended a hand.

“Leena,” she took your hand in a firm handshake and raised her drink to you.

You took a sip, and watched her behind the glass, only to notice that she was looking back at you as well. “So, how did you know Gio?”

“I worked with him on a couple of photoshoots. I’m a photographer,” leaning against the bar with her drink, she smiled and pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “He was really nervous, said he didn’t like getting his picture taken. Luckily, I used to work with kids and animals back home in Finland, so making a full-grown man laugh for his headshots wasn’t too hard.”

“You’re from Finland?”

“Mmhm. I go back and forth between London and Manchester now, though.”

“Interesting,” you nodded inconspicuously. “I play in Manchester. Nice city.”

Before you knew it, the sun had started to go down, and it was time to drive the yacht back to port. As you all made your way to the exit to disembark, you waited for Leena before offering your hand to help her down the ramp.

Your group was to head into town, and have some dinner before going to a local music festival to finish the night off. It was dark by the time you arrived at the venue, and you wasted no time in immersing yourself in the music. Gio and the others were long forgotten, and you found yourself enjoying your time with Leena much more than you had anticipated.

You told her about your job, and she asked about the World Cup. As much as you hated to talk about it, having declined several interviews and podcast appearances in which mentions of the tournament were inevitable, you told her everything she wanted to know.

She was so attentive and listened, even though you knew she didn’t follow the sport, and for that you were thankful. It has been a while since you talked to someone about how you felt and have them listen so wholeheartedly.

“Do you ever miss home?” You asked once the both of you had taken a break from dancing.

“Sometimes, but right now my wanderlust is bigger than my homesickness. I want to see everything the world has to offer.”

You swirled your martini on the standing table. “I’ve been away from home for so long, I don’t really know where home is anymore.”

“Well, I think home is where you make it.” She lay a hand on your bare arm, caressing it slowly. “If you’ve already made a home at this age, what else is there to do?”

Your eyes trailed along her arm up to her face. Your heart slowed, and the music seemed to have faded in the background. Despite the chaos of the festival, several drunk people dancing next to you, and your friends have already disappeared somewhere, you suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss Leena.

But it wasn’t her that you wanted to kiss, not really. You wanted to kiss her because it reminded you of familiar feelings, to have someone in your corner that you didn’t have to pretend to. But of course that was all based on a lie.

As she reached into your martini to pick up the olive pick and held it out for you, you bit down gently on the fruit and let her pull the pick away. You smiled bashfully.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks,” you cleared your throat. “Do you want some fries too?”

You needed to get out of there before you did something you regret and ruin a good thing, again.

The bartender was off once you’d given him your order. Whilst waiting for the drinks, you looked around for familiar faces and spotted Gio and a couple of his friends “dancing” to the music in one corner, clearly quite inebriated.

“Y/N.”

You turned around and wished that you didn’t. It was Ona, looking at you like you were some sort of alien.

“Ona,” you breathed.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with friends.” Now would be a good time for those drinks, bartender.

She nodded. “How are you?”

“Fine,” you said too quickly. “Congratulations by the way, on winning.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“You guys deserved it. No matter who’s trying to take it away from you, you did, and you should celebrate it,” you meant it and tried to force a smile that adequately expressed your sentiments. Needless to say, it would be easier to be saying this to one of her teammates, anyone but her.

You remembered the night she broke your heart, the night when you left your heart by the sidewalk as you trekked all the way home on foot.

That was three months ago, and with all the distractions you’ve indulged yourself in, somehow it still ached.

The bartender handed you your drinks just then, and you were off.

“Y/N, wait.” You closed your eyes. “I’m sorry . . . for what I said, how I said it.”

“No, I think you made your point very clear, Ona. Have a good rest of your trip.”

“Y/N, I did feel something too! I did!”

Ona felt like biting her tongue at the look you gave her when you turned around, the two glasses of Negronis dangling in your fingers by your side. She had almost regretted it when your lips trembled, and your chest rose and fell as if an implosion was imminent.

You took a large step towards her and exhaled. “You don’t get to do that. Not after I’ve tried to do everything to forget you. You can’t do that.”

Ona opened her mouth to say something, but she knew anything she said would only add to your fury.

“I hope you’re happy by the way.” You said mockingly. “Seeing that you got what you wanted. Winning the World Cup, moving back to Barcelona. Hope you’re happy. Bye, Ona.”

She watched unmovingly as you walked away from her, back to a table where a woman was waiting, and pulled her towards the crowd to dance. She found herself returning to her group, not being able to get the image of you swaying behind the woman with your arm around her neck out of her mind.

What kind of sick joke was the universe playing to make her see you right when she was supposed to be enjoying her days off? Maybe it was her punishment, having broken your heart then practically fleeing the country immediately after.

“Where’s the drink, Ona? You were supposed to get us some,” Lucy questioned her when she came back.

“Oh, sorry. I thought I saw someone.”

“Oi, is that Y/N? Y/N!”

“No, please don’t.” Ona grabbed Lucy’s arm, and quickly pulled it down.

Realizing Lucy didn’t know about it, she knew she was going to have to tell her one way or another. Surprisingly, Lucy didn’t laugh or tease her about it after hearing the entire story. They were back at their hotel, with another bottle of wine passed between them, and Ona told her new teammate everything.

“You were under our noses the whole time, and we didn’t even realize,” Lucy snickered with a shake of her head.

“Yeah,” the night had taken a toll on her, and Ona started to feel the effect of the alcohol as she lay staring at the ceiling. “Have I made a huge mistake? Letting myself be involved in all this.”

“Obviously, but the heart wants what it wants. Trust me,” the brunette took another sip from the bottle. “It is a hard situation, but she needs space, as much as you can give her so she can heal.”

“Sounds like you’ve been through it before,” Ona smirked and poked her with her elbows.

The older woman only laughed. “Something like that.”

As hard as it was to accept the truth, Ona had to move on. She didn’t have a lot of time to mope around, however, before she knew it, the season had already begun. Barcelona had always been a place to return to, and the team needed someone who had Barcelona in her DNA to complete the defense.

It was all going swimmingly, too much so even. The season started out slow, but they grabbed the wins when they needed them. Then it was time for the Champions League draw. Barcelona had been drawn into a group with RSC Anderlecht, AS Roma, and Manchester City.

Just her luck. She’d have to see you twice before the year ended. Barcelona would be going to Manchester first.

With her chance encounter with you in Ibiza still fresh on her mind, she joined the queue for warm-up, looking up every once in a while in case she spotted you. When she did, you were standing by the sideline talking animatedly to your other former teammate Keira. She tore her eyes away before you could notice her, and swallowed that uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Longing for your American girl?” Mapi said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” Ona mumbled, jogging away to do stretches. “I knew Lucy would blab.”

“So Lucy knows? I was just making an educated guess from the way you keep making those sad puppy eyes at her.”

“At who?” Ingrid appeared from behind.

“Y/L/N,” Mapi raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend with a smirk, and Ingrid gasped excitedly.

“Oh my god, Y/N Y/L/N?! You guys would be so cute together!”

“Guys, come on. We have a match to play,” Ona groaned and begrudgingly jogged away. Just before she started her sprints though, she snuck one last glance at you, when you briefly looked back. As if having been burnt just by a look, you quickly said goodbye to Keira and went back to your half to continue warming up.

“Do you think they were already together?” Ingrid whispered at Mapi.

Mapi sighed, “Definitely.”

Ona started that match on the left, as Lucy also started and occupied her usual right side. You were playing on the right this time to allow Lauren Hemp to be on the left wing. It meant there would be none of her usual duels with you.

Ever since Lucy’s slip-up in the World Cup final, Ona knew she had been more cautious in defense and stayed back most of the time. It gave her the opportunity to set up passes deeper whilst also keeping you at bay, the tactic Ona herself used at United and one she knew you absolutely despised.

Sure enough, you stupidly went up against only one of the best fullbacks in the world. Your dribbling and speed were to your advantage, and Lucy—with all her experience and knowledge of your play—easily controlled you at the flanks. So you tried inverting inside, and Lucy followed you too, if not Irene did.

Man City was pressing high, giving the offense plenty of opportunities in the box, but Barcelona was better in defense. It was only when a precise lofted ball was sent past the back line, that Lucy was trailing after you. You went down just outside of the box. As everyone was getting ready for the free kick, you were still on the ground. Your ankle had been stomped on by Irene during the struggle.

Ona quickly jogged over and put her hand over your shoulder, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Don’t put your hands on me,” you seethed, swatting her hand away, just as the physios came over and sprayed your ankle. Just moments later, you were able to stand up, but you never spared her another glance.

As much as it stung, she clenched her jaw to stop the tears and got ready for the free kick.

Barcelona ended up winning 2-0, a stellar start to their UWCL campaign. While Ona went to shake hands with several players from the opposition, she looked for you, seeing you walk towards the stands. You took pictures and signed for some people, even gave a little kid your shirt, but she saw the way you lit up when talking to someone in the crowd. Upon closer look, it was the woman you were with in Ibiza.

Your smile was blinding as Leena was led down the pitch towards you. “Hi,” you breathed. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Of course I did. You gave me tickets, remember?” She brought you in for a hug. “I’m sorry you lost, but it was very entertaining. I took lots of pictures.”

“Of me, I hope?” You smirked.

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Keep dreaming, Y/L/N.”

Smiling slightly, you brought her in for a side hug. “Thank you for coming,” you kissed Leena’s cheek. “Means a lot.”

Ona was watching the entire interaction, fuming on the inside. Lucy and Mapi knew to steer clear of her path once they returned to the dressing room by the glower on her usually affable face.

SportsPro Media: Y/N Y/L/N Seen ‘Smiling’ After Man City Lost to Barcelona in Women’s Champions League Group Stage “Fans have taken to social media to criticize the winger, 21, after she was seen smiling and conversing with fans at the stands after a 2-0 loss to reigning champions Barcelona. The criticism came after several of Y/L/N’s teammates on the USWNT were also condemned for their overt optimism after barely making it out of their group in the Women’s World Cup this summer. Among the critics was former USWNT international Carli Lloyd. Y/L/N was also seen getting more than friendly with her rumored girlfriend, whom the winger was spotted on holiday with in Ibiza alongside U.S. men’s team’s Gio Reyna after a shockingly early World Cup exit. […]”

When the second round of the group stage came around, you were much better prepared. Though you were playing away in Barcelona, Man City were preparing to win. You were definitely training to do so, so when the starting XI lineup was posted on the door in the dressing room, you were stunned when your name wasn’t on the list. You had been benched before—it was all part of the game—but only during less important games or for your own recovery, but never during an important game like this.

“Gareth, can I speak to you, please?” You said, gritting your teeth when the gaffer opened the door in his office.

“Of course,” he gestured for you to follow inside. “Take a seat.”

You remained standing. “Why am I not starting for the Barcelona game?”

“I’m doing what I think will be best for the team, Y/N.”

“By benching me? You need me!”

“Easy, Y/L/N. No one is above the club, and I don’t appreciate your tone,” Gareth’s tone was despicably calm, yet no less menacing.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself. “I want to know why, in an important game such as this one.”

“It seems . . . that you might have a personal reason as to why you want to start this game, but I have to rotate the squad and—”

“Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean? What personal reason?”

Gareth sighed. “I’ve been informed that you’ve had a personal relationship with one of Barcelona’s players that didn’t end too well.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything?” You all but yelled.

“I’m making a decision that I deem best for the club, and you and every other player will listen because I am in charge!” Gareth had never yelled, not like this. It made you flinch. “I will not have my players’ private life bleed into the performance of the team. Now, you can either support my decision or I will have you removed from the squad traveling to Barcelona, and replace you with someone else who will put the team above their own interest.”

Your mouth is sewn shut, just by the sheer shock at what the manager had just said. You stormed out of his office without another word, slamming the door open to mask what you were truly feeling inside. It wasn’t fury—you were beyond that—it has turned into fear of being replaced; fear of being left behind.

Man City drew that match, and it was just enough to send the team to the quarterfinals, having done it entirely without you. Gareth had made up a bullshit excuse to the press to make you stay home.

Your agent, Toni, was much more furious for you, saying what he did breach the contract you signed and that you should be taking action. In the five years they have been your agent, you have never had to endure that much legal talk over a club issue before. You’d be amused at their passionate rambling if you weren’t already nursing a headache.

“I think you should leave, Y/N,” they finally said after getting off the phone.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “But where would I even go? I don’t have any offers yet.”

“You will, once the news comes out that you’re looking to leave the club. You only have one year left on your contract anyway, plenty would seek to employ you.”

You had been through this before. The waiting after letting it be known that you wanted to leave was the worst, but you weren’t just a nobody anymore. You were Y/N Y/L/N, and you would have it your way one way or another.

“Alright, then.” You nodded firmly. “Let’s have a talk with Gareth. I’m not gonna scurry out of this club like a rat.”

Goal.com: Y/N Y/L/N Looking for Man City Exit After Tension With Boss Gareth Taylor “Sources within Man City are saying the American winger could be on her way out of Manchester this summer. The player has reportedly ‘fallen out of favor’ with City gaffer Gareth Taylor after ‘expressing her vexation over lack of playing time’. The 22-year-old was left out of the squad traveling to Barcelona for the 4th group stage match of the Women’s Champions League altogether and has since featured in significantly fewer matches for the Citizens. Several European clubs are reportedly keen to sign Y/L/N, but she could also be making a return to the NWSL for what could be a record signing in the women’s game yet. […]

Though you were scared, it was much easier to let go of a burden that you have been carrying around for so long.

Which was why you had agreed to come to a concert with Leena when she had asked you. You would let yourself have fun and connect with someone without being scared anymore because what Ona did to you had nothing with who you were, and you sure as hell weren’t going to pay the price for it.

Needless to say, you and Leena had a great time. You were been walking back to your car in the parking lot when you saw a flash. You sighed and walked Leena towards the passenger side.

“Get in the car. Don’t come out, okay?” You told her with a smile, which was quickly wiped off once you saw the photographers approaching.

“Y/N, are you leaving City? Where do you think you’re going next?”

“Did you have a fight with Gareth?”

“Y/N, are you going to Barcelona?”

You entered the car with an exasperated sigh. Your breathing became heavy as you attempted to start the car, and your hand started to tremble.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Leena spoke softly. “Don’t let them get to you.”

She placed a hand over yours and squeezed it softly. Finding her eyes, you nodded gratefully, and drove away, trying your very best not to run those imbeciles over.

You went back to her apartment where you both ordered some takeout. Over a movie, you talked about anything and everything.

It was like that with Leena. Somehow, she has made you feel okay with pouring your entire heart out in front of her, her caring eyes and encouraging silence taking away your doubts about looking like an emotional fool in front of her.

But the moment you saw her eyes dart back and forth between yours, then down to your lips and leaned in, you froze. You wanted this, only because it would be good for you, but you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry, Leena. I-I—” Jumping out of the couch, you stuttered like a broken record. Of course, she would have read it like that, you couldn’t blame her. You didn’t quite know what you wanted, but all you could think about was how different it was to kiss Leena than it was to kiss Ona.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t try to stop you. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. She might as well have been just as shell-shocked as you were by your reaction. You bolted out of there as quickly as you can, like a coward.

Unsurprisingly, Leena hasn’t tried to contact you. You couldn’t blame her, you’d be pissed at yourself too. It seemed everyone was pissed at you these days.

Chloe approached you once in the weight room to ask if you were leaving. You could only offer her an apology, but she brought you in for a hug. You would miss her the most.

Meanwhile, Toni was working tirelessly on your next move, and all you could do was train and be the best footballer you could be while you waited. Even if Gareth didn’t deserve your effort, your teammates did, and you owed it to them to give it your all until the day you left the training ground for the last time.

There was only one destination you had in mind, but going there would mean having to confront your serial one-night stand that you were possibly in love with, who also didn’t share your feelings.

You couldn’t let that deter you from ascending the football hierarchy, though. You couldn’t, and you won’t. You would do it one way or another because it was where you deserved to be. You would show Gareth that he was wrong about you.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Lyon! That’s crazy, Y/N!” Gio said over the phone. He was the first person you told and was ecstatic when you did.

“They still haven’t sent anything official yet, but it’s looking like it, yeah.”

“Well, what happened to the Barcelona deal?”

“My agent was flipping out when I said no, but then this deal came two days later and now they’re flipping out again but for a good reason.”

“That’s awesome, dude! I’m happy for you!”

“I don’t know, I just—I feel like I’m not there yet or something. Lyon wants me, but they’re freakin’ Lyon!”

“Hey, I know all about imposter syndrome, alright? But you can’t let that keep you from playing at one of the best clubs in the world.”

“Don’t let Dortmund hear you say that,” you smirked.

“Eh, we know where we are. That’s why we sold Erling and Jude,” Gio spoke. “Point is, they want you. They clearly see how good of a player you are. So get your ass over to France and show them that!”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re right.”

“Alright, gotta go. But hey, let’s go for a drink next time you’re in town. Hopefully, by then, you’re a Lyon player.”

You ended the call and got up to go take a shower. Just before you went to the bathroom, though, your phone rang again.

Grinning, you picked up again, “Look, if you’re telling me you’re gonna set me up again, I swear to god, Gio.”

But you didn’t hear Gio’s voice or teasing laugh. Instead, there was a shaky sniffle on the other side.

You checked the caller ID, and it was an unknown number. From Barcelona.

“Hello?” You said, unsure.

“Hey, Y/N. I just . . . just needed to hear your voice.”

You sighed because you knew exactly who it was. You had etched the cadence and tone of her voice into your memories during the many nights you’ve spent together.

“It’s Ona, by the way.”

“I know,” you nodded. You didn’t quite know how else to carry on this conversation. “I heard Barcelona’s beautiful this time of year.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, sniffling again. “You should see the beach at sunset. It’s great. I go and sit there almost every night.”

“Are you drunk, Ona?”

“No, no. Maybe a little bit. Just a little bit though. I had two glasses of wine. Or else I wouldn’t have the courage to be doing this. Just like I didn’t have the courage to tell you that I had feelings for you too. Have, I still do.”

You closed your eyes and shut off the water. Then she said it again, “I have feelings for you, Y/N. I think about you all the time. And I know you might be with someone now, but I just can’t . . .”

She started crying again. “I can’t go on without telling you anymore.”

“This is incredibly selfish, what you’re doing, Ona.” You were close to tears too, hearing how much this hurt her.

“I know. I’m sorry I fucked it all up. I’m sorry for hurting you. If I could take back everything I said, I would. I’m so, so sorry.”

You took a deep breath and sat back down on your bed. “I forgive you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was selfish too,” you said quietly. “You should go to sleep. You have a Champions League final to play tomorrow.”

You ended the call before you or she could say anything else.

“Shit,” you mumbled and threw yourself back onto the bed. This was exactly why you had to say no to Barcelona, even though it was your dream to play for them. Alas, it started to feel like a mistake.

You dialed Toni. “Hey, um, please don’t kill me for asking this, but could you reach back out to Barcelona and tell them I’m very interested?”

“I knew you’d pull some shit like this so I’ve stalled them. They don’t know we’re negotiating with Lyon, and would probably be fine with setting up a call soon. It’d be a headache to handle Lyon, though.”

“That’s why you’re the best agent in the world, right?” You smiled sheepishly.

“We’ll see, Y/N. We’ve got some leverage for now, but it’s not guaranteed that Barça won’t say no.”

“Thank you, Toni!” You hung up the phone.

ESPN: Barcelona Completes Signing of Y/N Y/L/N from Manchester City on World Record Transfer Fee “Manchester City W.F.C. has agreed to sell USWNT winger Y/N Y/L/N to Barcelona on a £485,000 record fee. This transfer surpasses Keira Walsh’s own move to Barcelona from the Sky Blues in 2022 with a fee of around £400,000. The signing of the summer was finally completed after several clubs have been reported to enter the race. Olympique Lyon was also close to acquiring the 22-year-old’s signature, but the deal broke down in late June when the player repeatedly expressed her interest in joining the Catalan giants. A technically gifted forward, Y/L/N can play on either side as a winger, and occasionally as an attacking midfielder for the national team. Her impending arrival at La Blaugrana would provide a boost in attacking power to an already impressive Barcelona side. […]”

“Jesus, you look like someone murdered your mother or something. Liven up, please.” Mapi smacked her Ona on the shoulder.

“I’m just a little nervous to see her again,” the younger girl muttered, fiddling with her fingers.

She could hear voices outside the dressing room getting closer. At the sound of your voice, her ears trained. She remained facing her locker, trying to occupy herself until you came in. She really felt like throwing up.

You greeted Aitana first with a quick hug, Marta too, then Lucy brought you in for a spin and released you for Keira to go in for the hug.

You said hello to Mapi and Ingrid, both of whom hugged you tightly.

Then you were in front of her. She had expected you to not even look at her, after what she had said over the phone. But you smiled a genuine smile, the one you used to give her whenever the world was a little too hard to bear.

Ona remembered everything. From the sheer hatred and resentment to the lust and sleepless nights under the sheets, to the longing and heartache she endured away from you.

“Welcome,” she whispered quietly, afraid you might not reciprocate her greeting.

Instead, you pulled her into you and held her tightly.

a/n: i’ve decided to add some lore for our y/n, lmk if you like it, if you don’t like it, if you think it’s too long and you just wanna get straight to the smooching :)) there’s more to come but now the stakes 😌☝️ are higher now that we have some info on what makes y/n ticks. i’m going back to college this week so updates might come later but yeah pls let me know what you think!!