#this shot is so good i had to gif it too real quick

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar : Hangman's shift at the Hard Deck

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: language, fun banter, physical altercation

words: 4,2k

Summary: Jake finally pays his bet debt and works a shift at the Hard Deck. But he also gets a surprising chance of redemption...

a/n: I couldn't end the story without seeing Jake struggling behind the bar. We're even having a full-circle moment that might come as a surprise to you guys but I felt like it was needed. Enjoy!

Link to my masterlist

“The liquor is in alphabetical order. Measure cups are over here. The beer goes in here. Oh, you’re gonna be responsible for re-stock tonight. Gotta take advantage of having a strong man in the house”, you explained to Jake the layout of everything behind the bar for his shift tonight. “I try not to take that personally”, Jimmy commented as he walked by the bar circle. “Sorry, Jimmy”, you called after him and pulled a face.

It was finally time for Jake to pay his bet debt. It was a Thursday night, nothing too crazy but also a demanding shift. You didn’t want to make it easy on him as he has been such an ass the first time you’ve met.

“It’s not rocket science. I got it”, Jake rolled his eyes at you with his hands on his hips, throwing you a condescending look. “Okay, Mr. Rocket Science. For every glass you drop, you get a Dollar out of your paycheck”, you told him. “I get a paycheck?”, his head shot over to you. “No. Which means that you owe Penny money. So, keep it together”, you said and patted his back.

“Ha-ha. Very funny”, he said in a dry tone. “What now?”, he asked as you had ended your little tour. “It’s 30 minutes till we open. So, how about you stack the cooler and cut some limes”, you told him. “Right at it”, he said and walked out of the bar circle. “And while we’re at it, how about you call me ‘boss’ tonight?”, you said and leaned on the counter. “After all, you’re my little bitch tonight, remember?”, you added with a smirk and wiggled your eyebrows.

Jake came back to the counter and leaned on it as well, your faces very close together. “I think, we need to talk about that bitch part again”, he said. “That bet was made a long time ago. Should have negotiated your terms back then. But you were too sure of yourself”, you lectured him and patted his hand that was placed between the two of you. In a quick motion, he grabbed your hand and pulled you even closer.

“And what do I get for playing along?”, he asked in a low tone and his eyes fell down to your lips for a moment before he looked at your eyes again. A smirk started forming on your lips while you contemplated.

“Maybe you should do a good job first before we talk reward”, you told him and as a tease, let your lips glide over his without giving him a real kiss. “Calling me boss would be a good start”, you added as you stood up straight again. “And now get that case of beer and get to work”, you told him.

“Yes, boss”, he said with a grin as he pushed himself off the counter to walk towards the storage room. “Oh, I like the sound of that”, you said and smiled to yourself. This will make for a very interesting shift.

As motivated as Jake was at the beginning, he quickly became overwhelmed with the influx of customers with every passing hour. He was rushing around the bar circle, trying to fulfill the orders. You always kept an eye on him, making him do the ground work. Opening bottles, collecting empty glasses and clearing the tables.

And just like you had predicted it, Jake had dropped some glasses within the first hour. It was impossible not to. You knew that even though he didn’t want to believe you at first.

Your favorite patrons, Ping-Pong and Bert, made an appearance again. “How are my favorite men tonight?”, you greeted them as they sat down in their usual spots. “I don’t know how they are, but we’re good”, Bert said and sat down with a huff. “The usual?”, you asked and they nodded at the same time.

You grabbed two beers from the cooler and opened them. “Jake, we need another case of beer”, you told him as you noticed the few bottles that were left in the cooler. “Right on it, boss”, Jake said and sounded a little out of breath as he had just arrived from another round through the bar, collecting the empty glasses and bottles. “Good boy”, you told him with a wink and placed the two beers in front of Bert and Ping-Pong.

“Got a new bartender?”, Ping-Pong noticed and watched Jake as he rushed out from behind the bar and weaved his way through the crowd towards the storage room. “I’d say more of an intern”, you commented and wiped down the counter close to them.

“He looks a bit…stressed?”, Bert noticed. “Yeah, well…I feel kinda bad for him as he’s clearly in over his head but he didn’t wanna listen, now he has to feel”, you told them with a smirk. “Couldn’t you have just made him sleep on the couch if he pissed you off?”, Ping-Pong asked after taking a sip of his beer.

It was no secret that the two of you were together. Ever since Jake’s big gesture of climbing onto the bar, asking you out in front of everyone and your date, the two of you were pretty open with your affections and pretty much inseparable when you were both here. Jake would sit at the counter a lot, watching you work and distracting you with lingering looks and some inappropriate comments.

When everybody was over by the pool table, you would linger a little longer than usual, stealing kisses from him before you got back to work.

“He’s not in the doghouse, he’s made a bet with me some time ago and that debt is now being paid”, you explained to them. “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s clearly head over heels for you”, Bert advised you. “That’s what I’m counting on”, you said with a wink, but felt your cheeks burning up. “He only has until midnight then he’s free again”, you told them. “Look at you navy guys looking out for each other”, you said and grabbed a fresh little bowl of peanuts to place in front of them. “What are we supposed to do? We made an oath”, Ping-Pong said and put a hand over his heart which made you chuckle.

A little while later, your favorite group came into the bar.

“What the hell happened to Hangman?”, Fanboy asked as he watched Jake hurrying from one side of the bar to the other, trying to fulfill the orders that were shouted at him. “Yeah, where’s the cocky asshole that makes our lives miserable?”, Payback added.

“Tonight, there is no Hangman. Tonight, he’s only Jake, the guy behind the bar”, you told them, looking over your shoulder at your colleague for the night. All of you watched him drop another glass, the sixth one of the night. “Yeah, he’s not really in his element back here”, you told them as you turned around.

“I hate to say it, but I love the sight of this”, Phoenix said and watched Hangman moving around hectically. “Bullshit, you hate nothing about this”, you told her and she shot you a devilish grin.

The others took a seat at the counter as well. They all wanted a first-row-seat to the show tonight. “We would like to place our order”, Fanboy said and had a grin on his face as well. “Sure, what can I get you?”, you asked him and then looked at the others to place their orders.

“No, no. Not you. Him”, he said and pointed at Jake, who was handing out beers at the other end of the circle. You felt a little sorry for Jake. But back when you made the bet, you told him that he would be your little bitch and you were a woman of your word.

“Hey, new customers on the other end. You’re specially requested”, you patted Jake’s back to get his attention. He turned his head towards the direction you nodded at and when he saw who the customers were, his whole face dropped. “Of course”, he mumbled. “I’ll take over here”, you told him and gently pushed him in the right direction.

You quickly took the orders of the people in front of you and started to hand out their drinks while you had one ear listening to what was going on across from you.

“So, what you guys want? 6 beers? Coming up”, Jake said as he was standing in front of his so-called friends. You had a feeling, they weren’t tonight.

“No, I’m not in the mood for beer tonight”, Rooster said and rested his elbows on the counter. “Yeah, I’m in the mood for something more sophisticated”, Phoenix chimed in. “How’s your old-fashioned?”, she added after a second of contemplation.

“And I would love nothing more than a Martini. Extra-dry”, Payback placed his order with a sly grin. “That sounds good, I’ll take that, too”, Fanboy said. “I’ll take a Manhattan”, Bob ordered his drink and looked proud of himself. “And I’ll have a Sex on the beach”, Rooster placed his order as well.

“You guys are absolute shitheads”, Jake commented. “Is that a way to talk to your customers?”, Rooster asked playfully offended. “Yeah, not looking good for a tip with that attitude”, Phoenix shook her head.

“I’ll take a beer”, Coyote chimed in from the end of the line. “Coyote, my only friend”, Jake said and immediately handed him an opened bottle. “Alright, Hangman, chop-chop”, Payback said and clapped his hands together two times to get him to move.

You were listening in from the other side and decided that it was time to save your intern. “Alright, two Martinis, extra dry. An old-fashioned, a Manhattan and a Sex on the beach for our favorite mustache. Coming right up”, you announced and started collecting all the ingredients you needed.

“Jake, give me that tall glass over there and a tumbler from above it and three with the stems…No, not that one, the one next to it…Yes, perfect”, you told him while you started mixing the different alcohols in a shaker and ordering Jake to bring you all the right glasses.

You prepared one drink after the other in a speed that had Jake drop his jaw. You handed them out from left to right. “Not as easy as it looks from the other side, huh?”, you told Jake as you pressed by him to place the drink in front of Phoenix.

“I know. I’ve learned my lesson. Can I go now?”, he asked in a whiney tone like a little kid. “Go? Dude, your shift ends at midnight”, you told him with a raised eyebrow. “At midnight? That’s another 3 hours!”, he exclaimed. “I know, I can tell time”, you countered and had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep you from laughing at his facial expression. “Oh, drinks and a show”, Phoenix commented and took a sip from her drink.

“And now go and collect some empty glasses and bottles”, you said and handed Jake a trey, nodding in the direction of the tables. He looked at you for a few moments with furrowed brows, but you didn’t break eye-contact until he gave up. “Ugh, fine”, he sighed, grabbed the trey and walked out from behind the bar circle.

“If you don’t wanna do this, be better at pool next time”, you called after him which made your group chuckle. “I love this”, Rooster said with a bright grin while he looked after Hangman. “Not as much as me”, you told him and wiggled your eyebrows.

About an hour later, you and Hangman were standing behind the counter, talking to your friends. The bar was well crowded, but everybody was served at the moment and you had a somewhat quiet minute.

“Don’t be so mean, he’s doing a good job”, you told off your friends, leaned against Jake and rubbed his arm. “No, I’m not, but thanks, babe”, Jake said, turned his head and pressed a kiss to your head which made you smile.

“Hangman's in love”, Fanboy mocked him with a bright grin. “We're not there yet” you waved it off with a shake of your head and stood up straight again.

“We're not?”, Jake asked surprised. “We are?”, you asked in return, even more surprised, looking up at him.

“Whoops”, Fanboy said, pulled a face and quickly took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t think this is the time or place for this kind of a conversation”, you told him and grabbed the dish towel to wipe down the counter. You needed something to do with your hands all of a sudden. Jake looked at you for a moment before he nodded his head. “Yeah, you’re right”, he agreed but you saw how he clenched his jaw. You really weren’t ready for this conversation, but you didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

You reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re good, baby. Don’t worry”, you told him, looking for eye contact to see if he believed you. “I know”, he said and shot you a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You were annoyed at Fanboy that he kind of forced you to do this but you could not get through the rest of your shift with Hangman thinking that you weren’t heading in this direction.

You pushed him a step back, away from your friends and stood between him and the counter as you looked up.

“Jake, baby. When I tell you that I love you for the first time, it’s definitely not gonna be in the middle of a shift and just because Fanboy made a stupid comment, okay?”, you clarified. By the way his eyes lit up, you saw that he noticed that you said when and not if.

“And now, it’s time to get back to work”, you told him but couldn’t keep the grin from appearing on your face by watching him smiling at you brightly. “Yes, boss”, he nodded. “Mhm, I really like that. Maybe we should take that home”, you commented and his smile turned dirty real quick.

You hadn’t noticed it yet, but the guy that had insulted you and his friends showed up at the bar. When they saw Hangman behind the counter and how he was with you, they came up right next to your group. They didn't know that they were your friends.

"Good god, Hangman. How did you end up on this side? Did she wear you down in the end?", the guy said and laughed at him. His voice made you turn around and your whole body stiffened. Jake looked up as well and the smile immediately dropped from his face. Instead, he shot him a stern look.

"God, that guy sounds worse than Hangman", Phoenix mumbled towards Rooster, but you heard her, too.

"I need you to apologize to Y/N about what you said last time", Jake said and stepped around you and closer to the counter, putting his hands on it.

You couldn't move a muscle or say anything, you were frozen in your spot. "Y/N, are you alright?", Phoenix asked as she noticed the state you were in.

"I don't know what you're talking about", the guy laughed it off. "You know fucking well what I'm talking about", Jake spat at him and got out behind the bar circle, walking up to him.

"Last time, you were in here you talked shit about her and that wasn't okay. Even worse that she had heard you. So now, you're gonna apologize to her", he demanded.

"Oh shit, that's him", Fanboy was the first to make the connection. Coyote had told the group about the “incident” that caused you and Jake to fight back then.

"Or what, Seresin?", the guy took a step closer, squaring off with Jake. That was the moment Rooster got off his chair and took a stand behind Hangman. The guy's friends positioned themselves behind their friend. You noticed your other friends getting up as well.

"Or I'm gonna make you", Jake almost growled at him. “Look at you defending her all of a sudden. Last time, I didn’t hear a lot about that. Didn’t we, Coyote?”, the guy said and looked over at Coyote who clenched his jaw at his words. “And that was a big mistake. I know that now and I apologized to her and will, as often as she’ll listen”, Jake told him.

The life finally came back to your body, making you able to get out behind the bar circle as well and walking over to Jake.

"Jake, it's okay", you told him to stand down and put a hand on his chest to hold him back. He looked down at you for a moment and his features softened.

"Shit, Hangman. What the hell happened? Did she save your life or something? Or is this Make a Wish?", you heard behind you.

Jake's eyes shot up again, glaring at the guy. In a matter of a single second, a lot of things happened simultaneously.

Rooster took a step forward at what he had just heard, just like your other friends, opening their mouths to defend you. Jake was about to jump the guy. But most surprisingly, for everybody including yourself, your fist shot forward and hit the guy right on the chin, making him tumble backwards into his friends.

It took you a few moments because of the adrenaline but then you felt the pain in your hand. You had never in your life hit someone.

"FUCK! That hurts", you said and pulled a face. "Are you okay?", Jake asked you and took your hand in his to inspect it. His eyes were big, equally surprised as you were about what had just happened. He gently pushed you down on a bar stool, your hand in his.

“This bitch is crazy”, you heard behind Jake’s back and the guy stepping forward, seriously trying to come at you.

Jake turned around in a split second, his fist shooting forward. His punch to the guy’s cheek sent him flying to the floor. The guy’s friends wanted to get in on the fight but Rooster, Coyote and Payback held them back while Jake stepped over the guy.

“And now you’re gonna apologize to my girlfriend or I’ll punch you out of this bar”, Jake growled at him. A circle had formed around them.

“What the hell is going on here?”, Penny appeared out of the crowd, taking in the situation. Her eyes flew from the guy on the floor to Hangman standing above him to you sitting by the bar and holding your hand.

“Russ here was about to apologize to Y/N”, Jake said and took a step back. Penny also knew about what had happened at that night at the bar and she remembered the face of the guy that was now looking up at her from the floor. “So? Let’s hear it”, she said and nodded at you.

Russ looked irritated to say the least. His friend helped him up and he held his chin. A bright red bruise was forming on his cheek.

“I’m sorry for what I said about you”, Russ finally spoke. “You can do better than that”, Jake commented. “It’s okay. Thank you”, you said and nodded, accepting his apology.

“Okay, now that that’s settled, you guys get back to work”, Penny told Jake and you. “And you are not longer welcome in my bar. We respect each other in this place. Something you’re clearly not capable of”, Penny told Russ and showed him the door.

Instead of moving, Russ glared at you. “Are you guys gonna leave now or should we take you?”, Rooster stepped forward, Payback and Fanboy flanking his sides.

“We’re leaving. There are tons of other bars. We don’t need this shithole”, Russ spat into the round and finally left with his buddies.

“The show is over”, Penny announced and urged everyone in the bar to get back to their drinking and chatting.

“We need to put some ice on it”, Jake said when you both were back behind the bar. He grabbed a fresh dish towel, spread it out and put some ice from the big bucket on it. He wrapped it up and put it on your hand.

“Are you okay, Y/N?”, Phoenix asked. Your friends had taken their seats at the counter again. “I’ll be fine”, you waved off but hissed at the paint that shot through your hand as your tried to wiggle your fingers.

“That’s gonna swell up good”, Rooster commented. “I’ve never punched someone before”, you said as you realized again what had just happened. “For that, it wasn’t a bad swing”, Payback commented. “Thank you, guys, for standing up for me”, you told your friends.

“And you”, you turned to Jake. “I never had someone throwing a punch for me. And as much as I don’t condone violence in any form…that was kinda hot”, you confessed. “He had it coming”, Jake told you and grabbed your hips. “And I’m also sorry for what happened back then”, he said and apologized for the umpteenth time. “I think you’re done apologizing. You can never top that anyway”, you told him.

You put your good hand on his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

When the bar had closed and everybody was gone, you and Jake stayed back to clean up. Because of the ice, your hand was a little better but you knew that you will really feel it tomorrow, like Rooster had said.

After the altercation, you two had gotten back to your shift and Jake had gotten back to being overwhelmed by being behind the bar. And you had become limited in your ways of helping him with your bruised hand.

Right now, he was putting the dirty glasses in the basket for the dishwasher and you but the bottles in the recycling bin.

“I feel like I don’t need to ask you but I’ll do it anyway. How did I do tonight?”, Jake asked. You looked over at him for a second and bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing before you continued with the recycling.

“Uhm, let’s just say if this flying thing doesn't work out, we at least know now that bartending isn't an option”, you assessed. When he stayed silent, you looked over and found him looking at you with a raised eyebrow, which made you chuckle.

“Flying thing? I'm a naval aviator. I fly million dollars fighter jets”, he explained in a stern tone, clearly upset that you had called his job the flying thing.

“I know, my little honeybee”, you playfully pouted while you walked over to him and patted his cheek like you didn’t believe him. He furrowed his brows and shooing your hand away like an annoying fly.

“I'm excellent at my job. And don't call me little honeybee”, he countered. “Look who doesn't like nicknames all of a sudden? It's not that fun when I pull the uno reverse card, huh?”, you said and loved how upset he got.

“I like nicknames, just not this one”, he shrugged his shoulders and looked away from you like an upset little puppy.

“You're so cute when you pout”, you told him and grabbed his face with your good hand, squishing his cheeks with your thumb and index finger on either side.

He shook off your hand and crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, biceps bulging. Your eyes darted down for a second.

“Does this bee want some honey?”, you offered, your fingers traveling up his arm. His eyes narrowed at you. “Really?”, he asked intrigued.

You shot him a flirty smile and a wink and walked out behind the bar circle.

“I think the last time we were here alone, I said something about a bar stool and getting bent over it”, you reminisced out loud and slowly wandered over to a bar stool, pulling it away from the counter.

Jake came out behind the bar circle as well, his eyes glued on you as he wandered over to you.

“Too bad it’s not raining”, he commented. You took a seat on the stool as you looked over at the big windows. As it was dark outside, you only saw your reflection in the glass with the bar circle as the only source of light around. That’s how you saw that Jake was just two steps away from you.

“I’ll think we manage”, you said as you turned back to him and pulled your shirt over your head, letting it fall to the ground. You leaned back a little and beckoned Jake over to you with your finger.

You didn’t need to tell him twice as he quickly closed the gap, grabbed your face and placed his lips on yours.

a/n: I still can't quite let go of these two, so there will be a a little epilogue for me to wrap things up.

[elivanto]

STAR WARS: OUTLAWS (2024)

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

bad idea, right? | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,

notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so… enjoy :)

word count: 4.6k

Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.

Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.

You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.

Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.

“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”

To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.

“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.

The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.

She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”

“Did you get a name?!”

After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.

With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”

Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.

Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Finnick.”

********

Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.

Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.

A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.

Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.

Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”

“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”

You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.

“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”

“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”

“Thanks, mum!”

You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.

Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.

District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.

Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.

Oh, fuck me.

He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.

“Finnick,” you greeted.

“Y/N.”

He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.

Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.

Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.

“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”

You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.

“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”

“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”

Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”

He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”

“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”

Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.

You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?

Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.

But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.

Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.

So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.

In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”

He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”

And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”

Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”

You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.

“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”

Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.

This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”

Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.

“I want you,” he whispered.

You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”

He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.

Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.

A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.

Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.

You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”

His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.

“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.

You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.

“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”

Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”

Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.

“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.

He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.

You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.

“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.

Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”

The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”

“That’s right.”

Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.

Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.

And, well, you did.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.

“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”

With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.

With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.

The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.

Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.

“Turn around,” he said, and you did.

You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.

Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.

The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.

You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.

Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.

Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.

“Oh god,” you gasped.

The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.

It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.

You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.

Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.

“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.

His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.

“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.

He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.

“Harder!” you cried.

Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.

His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.

“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”

You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.

He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—

“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”

A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.

You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.

Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.

*********

“Don’t leave again.”

Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.

“Finnick…” you sighed.

“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”

The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.

Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.

You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.” 

tags: @tayrae515

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader

part 2

warnings: derek being derek.

word count: 0.5k ish

summary: you come to the bau to drop off some things

pls pls pls send any requests you have, im itching to write more but need plot suggestions!!

“who’s that?” quizzed elle.

all eyes were on the new face that stood at the door by the bullpen. you stood there, a binder wrapped tightly in one arm, and a brown paper bag clutched in the other. a black pencil skirt adorned your form complemented with a white button up. you stood there with you hair pushed neatly away from your face, your eyes scanning the room for something.

“i’ve never seen her before- is she new?” jj tilted her head slightly.

“i don’t know but she looks good.” morgan chuckled to himself earning a dig from elle.

“leave her alone she looks like a baby.” elle frowned.

spencer who had his head in a book until now, scanned the room, his hazel gaze fixing on you. there was something familiar about you that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“she looks around my age.” reid muttered, joining the rest of the team in studying the newcomer.

“exactly. a baby.” elle smirked at spencer’s defeated expression.

spencer shook his head, earning a pat on the shoulder from derek.

you scanned the room once more, suddenly growing nervous when you spot several sets of eyes on you. you inhaled sharply, shuffling over to the group of profilers in hopes they would direct you to where you needed to go.

“she’s coming-act natural.” morgan practically smacked spencer, quickly sitting up straight from his previous slumped position next to the young genius.

“excuse me- would any of you know where jason gideon’s office is?” you smiled politely, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

your eyes met spencer’s and a light blush dusted over your cheeks.

“just up- up those stairs and to the right.” spencer internally cursed as he stuttered out directions.

“thank you so much.” you gave him another shy smile, nodding to the others before you turned, sauntering away to gideon’s office.

“real smooth, pretty boy.” derek shot spencer a shit eating grin, the older man slinging an arm around the blushing mess that was dr. spencer reid.

a few minutes later, everyone had gotten back to their respective reports, spencer was scribbling away at lightning speed, his interaction with you playing in the back of his mind.

over the low mumbling throughout the bullpen, the door to gideon’s office could be heard shutting. the special agent walking down the steps with you in tow. you were making quiet conversation, the binder and paper bag once in your grasp was gone.

derek leaned over spencer’s desk, all eyes were yet again on you.

you and gideon came to an abrupt stop right by where everyone was congregating.

“thanks again for dropping my lunch, sweetie.” gideon gave you a warm smile before giving you a quick hug which you returned gratefully.

“sweetie?” jj blinked.

“well if i’m too old for her then he certainly is-“ derek was cut off by a stack of case files being dropped onto his desk by none other than aaron hotchner.

“no problem, i’ll see you at home.” you gave gideon another smile before walking away, your eyes meeting spencer’s once more before you left causing his cheeks to burn up.

“that’s his daughter.” hotch scoffed, shaking his head as he walked off.

“daughter?!”

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . WARM ME UP ; — cock-warming various blue lock boys.

FEATURING: nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, bachira meguru + mikage reo.

warnings: f!reader, cockwarming, all characters written 22+, a little teasing in some, slight somno in bachi’s [hes inside of u before ur asleep], slight body worship (?) in reo’s, sensitive boys mostly. note: my mind spiralled w nagi’s first so that’s why his is longer but i decided 2 make it into hcs.

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO

“fuck—ah, y’re g’nna make me die, quit feeling sooo good ‘ts no fair.” nagi murmurs from where he’s got you spread across his lap, resting on the edge of his bed with his cock buried in your sweet walls as he tries to beat his own high score on his game.

you’d gotten a little bored watching him, a little needy as you pressed yourself up against him and admired the way he’d bite on his lower lip as he concentrated, skilful fingers tapping at the buttons on his controller as small, low grunts of frustration fell from his parted lips.

but nagi had welcomed you so easily when you’d made your way into his lap, lifting up his arms to allow you to slide right in before he sent you a lidded, questioning look when he felt you pull at the waistband of his sweats. “huh? ‘m in a game right now, angel.”

“it’ll help you concentrate, sei.. promise.”

it’s doing anything but though, the snowy-haired striker underneath you realises with another needy, warm twitch of your walls around him. even just the press of your chest against his is driving him crazy, feeling you press kisses along his jawline when he whines from missing another shot — he can barely concentrate on anything but you.

“no fair.. you made me miss another headshot, pretty thing.” nagi grumbles as he presses his forehead against your shoulder, sighing while a tight, cute pout rests on his lips. but it’s almost like an apology, the sinful press of your hips against his as you push closer — just enough to knock the air out of him when you press his cock even deeper into you.

“hey, c-come on! angel, y’re playing dirty, wanna up my online ranking.” there’s an unsteady waver to his words that’s followed by the instinctive twitch of his hips into yours, like he’s chasing more of the friction you're teasing him with as he sighs.

“think of it as a boss fight, sei.. don’t wanna make it too easy.” your words are whispery and pretty as you pull back to trace your fingertip across the shape of nagi’s jawline — drawing his full attention as his head twists to look at you. hes starry eyed and dazed, flushed from his cheeks to his neck and you’re pretty sure the eye contact alone makes his cock twitch from where it’s pressed into you.

“eh, ‘ts no fair when you know all my weaknesses, pretty thing. gotta try somethin’ else, i guess.” it’s drawled, filthy the low tone his voice takes before he’s drawing closer to kiss you, whimpering against your lips before he’s forgetting the controller in favour of grabbing you instead.

the quick movements are followed by your back meeting the mattress as he presses you into the sheets with every deep, messy press of his lips. “sei! your game.” you gasp when your words urge his first real thrust into you, so deep and good that your toes curl from where they’re wrapped around his hips.

“eh, it’s fine.. ‘ll beat it later, f-fuck—wanna win this side quest first.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI SAE

sae was tired from practice today, but you were feeling particularly needy and as much as his muscles ached — he still couldn’t help but use this opportunity to his advantage, especially when you were already palming at him just as he returned home.

“i’ve been at practice all day, know i’m tired. is this how you welcome me home?” he drawls from where he’s got you spread out against him — your back is resting against his chest as your head rolls back against his shoulder, thighs hooked over his own as his fingers circle your clit — unmoving even though his cock is already buried deep inside of you.

there’s a certain sharpness to sae’s tone that makes you twitch, shaking your head against him as your nails scratch along his forearm. you’re so desperate for him, for him to move and fuck you — it wouldn’t take much, not when he’s touching you just right, but it’s not enough — he knows that.

“just need you, sae. i, ah—missed you today..” your hips twitch above him, an obvious little plea as his cock brushes along the spongy spot inside of you but he’s too fast, sighing before his free hand is pressing your hips back tight against his.

"how much?" sae grunts with the sweet, frustrated whine that pushes past your lips as he grinds up into you - offering you an inch before he takes it from you completely, pressing a kiss against your shoulder after like hes trying to soothe you. "how much did you miss me, hm?"

the way he presses into your clit is deliberate, baring down harder on the puffy bud until you’re thighs are shaking and twitching, begging for him to hurry up and move. your lips part, head lolling back against his shoulder before he’s pressing another smeared kiss against your cheek, and sending you a sharp looks that’s urging you to hurry up and answer.

“so much, missed you so much! been waiting for you, sae.. wanted you here.” your voice breaks under the weight of your arousal but you swear you feel sae’s cock twitch at the sound. it’s followed by a low hum, like he’s considering your answer before his hand on your hip eases — finally letting you move with another slow roll of his own that presses his cock against the swollen, sweet spots inside of you.

“then take what you need, sweetheart. don’t keep me waiting.”

✩ ˛˚ . ITOSHI RIN

it was impossible to move rin from his place on the couch when he’s examining team plays, his own most importantly — teeth gritting with concentration despite the way you’re pressed into his chest, palming at his body as his cock rests inside of your slick cunt.

but as good as it feels, finally having him buried in you like you asked, you’d rather he was moving — turning you to putty above him and fucking every single thought out of your mind that wasn’t him. so you decide to test the boundaries a little, shifting your hips deliberately until you feel his large palms squeeze at your hips and your boyfriend hiss from between his teeth.

“quit— fuck, quit it.” you almost shiver at the low, sharp tone rin’s voice takes but you can tell there’s no real irritation behind it when you notice the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. he’s just as wound up as you are, his brows crumbling as he tries to focus on the tv infront of him — nibbling on his lower lip to distract him from the warm squeeze of your walls.

“you said you wouldn’t move..” he grits, still refusing to meet your gaze despite the way every squeeze of your hands across his body makes his breathing hitch. you’ve got him so fucking wound up, he’s so lukewarm — so sensitive, he can’t even control himself for 10 fucking minutes.

“but i need you, rin. not my fault you feel so good.” rin can feel the back of his neck stinging with a flush when you smear a kiss along his jawline, making his fingers squeeze even tighter into your hips before he’s growling under his breath. but the way you purr when he readjusts himself beneath you, melting into him with a tiny, slight grind of his cock into you makes him feel fucking dizzy.

it’s fast, the way he’s suddenly readjusting his feet and beginning a pace that’s too quick, and if it wasn’t for his grip on you — you’d have bounced off of his lap completely. every wet smack of his hips is loud and clapping and driven by the pure determination to feel you creaming around him as he sends the game on the tv a lidded glare.

“can’t even control yourself—uggh, shit—you’ve got until the first half finishes to cum or ‘m stopping.. and you better—take all of it.”

✩ ˛˚ . BACHIRA MEGURU

it had become sort of a routine at this point, bachira would come home from practice — wound up and so fucking hard before he was fucking you senseless, followed by him falling asleep pressed up against you while his cock still rested inside of your cunt.

you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t comfortable though and he knew exactly how to get you to accept, bathing you in wet presses of his lips and low chuckles. “jus’ wanna feel you round me, baby. m’kay? sleep sooo good like that, so warm.” you couldn’t deny him, not when you’re still coming down from the orgasm he’s dug out of you.

but now, you feel yourself wake up from your own nap — roused by the sudden movement behind you as you feel bachira’s chest press tighter against your back — followed by the sudden, deep press of his cock along the still swollen spots inside of you. “baby~ already so wet, should’a just woke me up if you wanted it, gotta take care of you.. m’kay?”

you’re not sure if it’s the sleep that still laces your body but you already feel like putty at his touch, he’s deliberately grazing his cock along the spots that crave him most — sending intoxicating little aftershocks through your body that have you gasping with every quick thrust.

bachira chuckles when your lips part to moan, followed by another loud, wet smack of his hips as his head rests against the back of your shoulder. “already so wet, baby. mhm.. you been dreaming ‘bout me? feels like you have~” he sings, whimpers when he feels you squeeze around him at the words but that only pushes him to go faster, deeper.

it’s hard to believe he was sleeping a moment ago with how well he’s working your body, palming and grabbing at your figure as moans fall from his lips — burying them into your skin as he smears kisses along your shoulders. every deep press of his cock is eased by the remnants of both your previous orgasms, squelching loudly as he pushes himself even deeper.

“awww~ i knew you wanted it, baby. mhm— ah! just gotta ask, can make you feel so good~ lemme take care of you, m’kay?”

✩ ˛˚ . MIKAGE REO

reo was obsessed with you, that much was obvious — although he’d spend his whole day proving it to you if he had to. every touch of his hands on your skin made you melt into him, he worked you with such precision but such a gentleness that you couldn’t help but seek out more.

but these moments specifically were some of your favourites, the ones when he’s pulled you onto his lap — onto his cock as his fingers leave featherlight touches along your skin as he looks up at you. it was intoxicating, to watch him appreciate every part of you, taking a slow, languid palmful of your breast as he loses himself in the mindless squeeze of your walls around him.

“does that feel good, bunny? yeah?” reo asks as his breathing cools the spit he’s left across your tits, giving you a lidded — dazed look until you’re nodding out a yes and he’s messily dragging his tongue along your nipple. you feel dizzy with how good it feels, every squeeze of his palm as he suckles at your nipples languidly, massaging and pinching at you as you try your best to keep your hips still.

but every lav of his tongue, every slow and mindless roll of it over your aching tits makes him twitch from where he’s buried in you but he’s too intoxicated, too enamoured by the way your walls squeeze with every swipe of his muscle against you.

“fuck, bunny. look so pretty, keep still for me. kay?” it almost hurts how tight your fingers are digging into reo’s shoulders with your sweet little uh huh, followed by another dreamy whimper as he suckles kisses from one breast to the next. his cheeks and chin are slick with his own spit from every sloppy press of his lips against you, and it feels so fucking good despite the way his cock still hasn’t moved inside of you.

a shaky sound breaks from his lips when you let your head roll back, your hands smoothing through his hair before the pull at the roots and he feels like he could fucking cum right there and then. you feel fucking boneless above him, melting with every greedy palm and press of his lips and hands.

“that’s it, bunny. wanna see how much you need me first.”

© 2023 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[its-avalon-08]

Could you do a Lando one where he and reader have been together since the beginning of his F1 career and during the current season, where he has a chance to compete for the championship against Verstappen and since he won his first race, reader slowly realizes how distant and focused on winning the drivers' championship he is becoming from her and his fans along with the media also realize this, and after he has a chance to win the race and reduce the advantage against Max, she finally confronts him and they have an argument to the point where he tells her that she is being a distraction and that they should break up and she agrees and packs her things and leaves for Carlos' house for a while and Carlos and Rebecca comfort her and let her stay as long as necessary. And weeks after that, everyone realizes how sad Lando is and sees that Reader is no longer present with him at the races and he sees the stupidity he did due to the pressure he is under and tries in every way to talk to Reader and asking her for a second chance, but to no avail. And when Lando loses the championship, he admits to everyone what an idiot he was for letting the pressure of competing for the title end the most important thing in his life, which is his relationship, and mentions that Reader has always been through his ups and downs and that he only asks that if Reader is watching that interview, she forgive him. And days later, when he returns to Monaco, he hears someone knocking on the door and he opens it and sees Reader with tears in her eyes saying that she saw his interview and that she forgives him

i love u anon I LOVE U

the sound of the woman that loves you (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort, neglect

The paddock was buzzing with energy, cameras flashing as media and fans swarmed the track, but Lando Norris walked through it all with a focused, unbreakable gaze. Y/N, his girlfriend of six years, was standing on the sidelines, arms crossed tightly. She knew this season was different – the stakes were higher, and Lando had a real shot at the championship, but something else felt different, too.

She gave him a small wave as he approached, expecting the usual grin, maybe even a quick hug. Instead, he nodded at her, barely slowing his stride.

“Good luck out there, Lando,” she called, keeping her voice light.

He looked back briefly. “Thanks. I need to get to the garage.” And with that, he disappeared into the McLaren motorhome, leaving Y/N in the midst of a crowd of curious onlookers.

She glanced at her phone, scrolling through Twitter to distract herself.

@F1Fanatic2024: “Anyone else feel like Lando's been acting… different lately? He’s so much more serious these days. Miss the old Norris 😕 #ItalianGP” @NorrisNation: “Gotta be the championship pressure. But I miss seeing him and Y/N together, they were always so cute! Now he barely even looks her way… #Monza”

Y/N sighed. The fans weren’t the only ones who noticed. She felt it every day. Since his first win in Silverstone, Lando seemed to have put on a new armor, impenetrable and distant. At first, she chalked it up to the pressure of being a real championship contender, but recently, it felt like there was something more.

Later, In the McLaren Motorhome

“Lando,” she called, poking her head into his team room after qualifying.

He barely looked up from his notes. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated. “I thought… maybe we could grab dinner tonight? You know, relax a bit before the race tomorrow?”

He didn’t even pause, scribbling something down. “Sorry, can’t. I have to go over data with the engineers.”

“Oh… okay. Maybe after the race?”

“If it goes well, sure.” He finally looked up, flashing a tight smile. “If I’m going to have any chance at catching up to Max, I can’t waste time right now.”

Her heart sank. She managed a weak smile back. “Of course. I understand.”

But it was hard to ignore the shift. They’d been through so much together, from his first race to his first podium. She remembered the nights they’d stayed up in hotel rooms talking about their dreams and fears. Now, it felt like she was just another face in the paddock.

Race Day

Lando finished second, close on Max’s heels, reducing the gap in the standings. His fans erupted on social media.

@F1Racer2024: “YESSSS! That’s how you do it, Lando! One step closer to the championship!! #TeamLando” @NorrisY/N_Fanpage: “Does anyone else miss the times when Lando would celebrate with Y/N after every race? She was his biggest cheerleader… what happened? 🥺”

As Lando stepped off the podium, Y/N waited in the sidelines, her heart racing. She expected him to come over like he used to, the way he would spot her instantly and pull her into a hug, podium champagne still dripping off him. But instead, he went straight to the team, surrounded by cameras and fans. She stood there, watching, a bit more alone than she’d felt before.

Eventually, he made his way over to her, but even then, it felt rushed.

“Good race,” she said, smiling up at him, hoping to capture a moment of the old Lando.

He nodded, barely slowing down. “Yeah, thanks. Still gotta catch Max, though. Can’t celebrate too much yet.”

She reached out, touching his arm gently. “Lando, you did amazing today. Can we just… have a moment? Just you and me?”

He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around. “I can’t right now, Y/N. There’s so much at stake.”

Her face fell, but she nodded. “Right. Of course.”

That Night – Hotel Room

Y/N lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the distance between them like a canyon. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the usual F1 fan accounts and updates, and her heart sank a little further as she read the latest tweets.

@RacingGirl2024: “Remember when Lando used to bring Y/N to all the team celebrations? Now it’s all business with him. #MissThem” @LandoF1Updates: “Lando’s chasing that championship with everything he’s got, but is it just me, or has he left everything else behind? #FocusedButDistant”

She knew it wasn’t just her imagination – everyone saw it. She missed the days when Lando had room in his life for them both, but lately, it seemed like racing was the only thing on his mind.

The door creaked open as Lando finally came in. He looked exhausted, eyes tired and a bit dull, but still carrying the spark of his competitive spirit.

“You’re still awake?” he murmured, slipping off his jacket.

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip. She wanted to tell him how she felt, but seeing his drained face, she hesitated. “I just… I miss you, Lando.”

He stopped, giving her an unreadable look. “I’m right here, Y/N.”

“Not really,” she said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like… you’ve already left.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I need to focus right now, okay? This could be my only shot at the championship.”

“I get that, Lando. I’ve always supported you – you know that. But… I didn’t think it would mean losing you.”

He looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Y/N. Just… give me some time, yeah? This is important to me.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I’ll be here. I just hope you remember who was there from the start.”

Social Media – Post-Race Reactions

@FormulaHeartbreaks: “Watching Y/N trying to celebrate with Lando and him brushing her off… that hurt to watch 😔 #StayStrongY/N” @WDCdreams: “Lando’s transformation this season is insane – but I’m scared he’s pushing everyone he loves away. Hope he doesn’t regret it #FocusCanCost”

As she lay next to him in the dark, Y/N wondered how much further he was willing to go for this dream – and whether, by the end of it, there would still be room in his life for them.

---

two weeks later – Lando’s Apartment

It had been two weeks of tense silences and brief conversations, filled with polite distance but nothing of the warmth that once defined them. Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Tonight, they were supposed to have dinner together after weeks of being apart, but Lando was, as always, late. She glanced at the clock, her stomach churning with frustration.

When the door finally opened, Lando walked in, not even bothering to look up as he set his keys down and shrugged off his jacket.

“You’re late,” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady.

He sighed, barely glancing at her. “Yeah, the engineers needed me to stay a bit longer. We’re testing some new upgrades for next week’s race.”

“Of course,” she muttered, shaking her head.

He finally looked up, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that everything – the team, the races, the data – comes before us now,” she replied, her voice beginning to shake. “You’ve been ignoring me, Lando. Fuck, I barely recognize you anymore.”

He rolled his eyes. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. I’m so close to the championship. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”

“I do understand that,” she snapped. “I’ve always been there for you. But you’re acting like I don���t exist. You barely even look at me anymore. Do you realize how painful that is?”

“Painful?” He scoffed. “It’s not like I’m doing anything to you. I’m just focused on something that matters to me right now.”

“What about me?” she cried, her voice cracking. “What about us?”

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “Y/N, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Her eyes stung as she fought to hold back tears. “You don’t have time for me,” she whispered. “You have time for everything else – every meeting, every media obligation – but when it comes to me, there’s nothing.”

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and almost warning, “if you’re so unhappy, maybe you should go. I can’t keep worrying about how you’re feeling when I have this much on the line.”

She blinked, shocked, the tears finally spilling over. “You’re saying I’m a burden? After everything, I’m just… just in the way?”

He threw his hands up, exasperated. “You’re becoming a distraction, Y/N! I can’t focus when you’re constantly upset with me. I need to be 100% in this championship, and right now, I can’t be that with you here, making me feel guilty for every second I spend away from you!”

Y/N’s lip trembled as she tried to hold herself together. “So, what then? We just… end it? Just like that?”

He didn’t answer, just looked away, his face hard and distant. It was the coldest expression she had ever seen on him.

“Fine,” she whispered, nodding to herself. She walked into the bedroom, her hands shaking as she grabbed her suitcase and started packing. Every shirt, every little trinket that she had brought into his space felt like it was mocking her. She heard him pacing outside the room but couldn’t bring herself to stop.

When she emerged, suitcase in hand, he was standing there, arms crossed, face unreadable. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the silence thicker than it had ever been.

“So that’s it then?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Six years, and you can just let it all go for this one shot?”

He didn’t answer, and that hurt more than anything he could have said.

She laughed bitterly, wiping her tears. “I hope this championship is everything you dreamed of, Lando. Because it’s all you’re going to have left.” She pushed past him, tears blurring her vision as she walked out of the apartment, her heart shattering with every step.

Later – Carlos and Rebecca’s House

Y/N knocked, and before she could even drop her hand, the door flew open. Carlos’s concerned face immediately softened when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and trembling figure.

“Oh, Y/N…” he whispered, pulling her into a tight hug. She broke down completely, her sobs muffled against his shoulder. Rebecca joined them in the doorway, gently rubbing Y/N’s back as she let all the heartbreak pour out.

“He… he told me I was a distraction,” she choked out. “After everything, he just… let me go.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, his jaw clenched. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot if he can’t see what he’s lost.”

Rebecca guided her inside, settling her on the couch with a soft blanket around her shoulders. “You can stay here as long as you need,” she said gently. “We’re here for you, okay?”

Y/N nodded, wiping her tears, but the pain still sat heavy in her chest. She thought back to all the moments she and Lando had shared – all the late nights, the laughter, the promises they’d made. And now, it all felt like nothing more than empty words.

---

Y/N sat curled up on Carlos and Rebecca’s couch, her fingers gripping a warm mug of tea that Rebecca had handed her, though she hadn’t taken a sip. Carlos and Rebecca sat across from her, exchanging worried glances. Rebecca reached over, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Rebecca asked softly, her voice laced with concern. “It might help.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes focusing on the tea in her hands. She’d replayed every painful moment a hundred times in her head, but somehow, saying it out loud made it feel even more real.

Taking a shaky breath, she began. “Lando wasn’t always like this. He used to be so… present. Back when he first started in F1, we were everything to each other. He’d come back from a race, even if he’d had a bad day, and he’d look at me like I was the only good thing he had. He’d call me his ‘anchor,’ you know? Like I was the one keeping him grounded.” Her voice cracked, and she blinked back tears.

Carlos looked away, jaw clenched, clearly struggling to hear how much his friend had hurt her.

“He used to make time for me, no matter what,” Y/N continued, her voice trembling as she remembered. “I remember one night, it was after a particularly bad race. He came home exhausted, and I tried to cheer him up. I was rambling on about some silly story, and he just stopped me, took my face in his hands, and said, ‘I don’t deserve you, you know that?’ I laughed it off, but he was so serious. That was Lando… he always made me feel like I was everything to him.” She let out a small, broken laugh. “Now it’s like… he doesn’t even see me anymore.”

Rebecca’s eyes were full of sympathy, and she leaned forward, gently rubbing Y/N’s back. “He still loves you, Y/N. He’s just… lost in all of this championship pressure. It’s consuming him.”

Y/N shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. “That’s what I told myself at first. That it was just temporary. I wanted to be understanding, to give him the space he needed. But it kept getting worse. He’d come home, and it was like he was bringing all the weight of his career with him. He’d barely speak to me, and if he did, it was only about the races, the standings… nothing else.”

Carlos shifted forward, his expression filled with anger on her behalf. “But you were always there for him, through everything. He shouldn’t have taken you for granted.”

“That’s what hurts the most,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I tried to support him in every way I could, to be his safe place. But… it’s like he doesn’t need me anymore. Like I’m just in the way of his goal.” She clenched her fists, the pain intensifying as the words came tumbling out. “He told me I was a distraction, Carlos. Like I’m something he needs to get rid of to succeed.”

Carlos’s face hardened, his fists clenching. “That’s not right, Y/N. You were never a distraction. You were his partner.”

Y/N’s gaze dropped to her lap, her voice thick with tears. “I was so proud of him, so in love with him… I still am. But he’s changed. The Lando I fell in love with would never have pushed me away like this. I don’t even know if he’s in there anymore.”

Rebecca pulled Y/N into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly as Y/N finally broke down completely, letting the tears fall. “I just… I don’t know how to stop loving him,” she sobbed. “Even after everything, even after he said those horrible things… it still feels like a part of me is missing without him.”

Rebecca tightened her hold, her own eyes shining with tears. “You gave so much of yourself to him, Y/N. It’s going to hurt. But we’re here for you. You’re not alone.”

Y/N’s shoulders shook as she clung to Rebecca, her sobs echoing in the quiet room. Carlos leaned forward, reaching over to gently hold her hand. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than this.”

“I just wish…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I wish he could see how much he’s losing. But he’s so wrapped up in his dream, it’s like I don’t matter at all anymore.”

The three of them sat in silence, Rebecca and Carlos offering her the quiet support she desperately needed. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N let herself truly grieve the man she had once loved with everything in her – the man who had loved her just as fiercely but seemed to have slipped away, lost in the world he was so determined to conquer.

---

The first time people noticed, it was subtle – a strange emptiness around Lando that hadn’t been there before. There were no more quick glances to the paddock where Y/N used to stand, no playful smiles or inside jokes shared across the garage. And, most importantly, no sign of Y/N.

The media chalked it up to championship pressure, but his fans weren’t convinced. They flooded his social media with questions.

Twitter

@LandoLover91: Did anyone else notice Y/N hasn’t been at the last few races?

@RacingQueen: Where’s Y/N? She used to be his good luck charm. Lando seems so off without her…

@TeamNorris: You can see it on his face. Something’s missing.

It wasn’t just the fans. In the paddock, everyone saw it too. Even Max and Charles exchanged a look as they watched Lando pace through the garage, his usually confident demeanor tinged with something… off.

Max nudged Charles. “Have you noticed he hasn’t been himself lately?”

Charles nodded, concern flashing in his eyes. “It’s like he’s a ghost of who he used to be. And… Y/N isn’t here anymore.”

Max sighed, crossing his arms. “He pushed her away. I don’t think he even realized what he was doing until it was too late.”

In the McLaren Garage

Carlos was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, watching Lando carefully. He’d been giving Lando the cold shoulder ever since Y/N had shown up at his house in tears. Lando approached Carlos, a hint of desperation in his eyes.

“Carlos,” Lando started, his voice low. “I need to talk to you.”

Carlos’s gaze hardened, and he crossed his arms, his posture rigid. “Oh? Suddenly, you want to talk? Funny, because Y/N wanted to talk too. She begged you to hear her, and you threw her aside. Now, you’re here?”

Lando flinched, guilt swirling in his stomach. “I… I messed up, Carlos. I know that. I let the pressure get to me, and I said things I didn’t mean.”

Carlos’s face remained unyielding. “Didn’t mean? You called her a distraction. After everything she did to support you, to be there for you, you reduced her to an inconvenience.” His voice was laced with bitterness.

Lando’s shoulders slumped. “I know, okay? I know I ruined everything. I’ve been trying to talk to her, but she won’t answer my calls, won’t respond to my messages. I just… I need her back, Carlos. She’s the one good thing in my life, and I pushed her away.”

Carlos shook his head. “Do you even hear yourself? You only realize her worth now that she’s gone. What did you expect, that she’d wait around forever while you treated her like she didn’t matter?”

Lando’s voice cracked, desperation spilling over. “I don’t know what to do. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, Carlos, just… tell her that I’m sorry.”

Carlos scoffed. “You think I’m going to deliver your apologies for you? If she wanted to talk to you, she would have. And after the way you treated her, I don’t blame her one bit for staying away.” Carlos’s eyes softened briefly, but it only made his tone more cutting. “You lost someone who loved you with everything she had, and you took it all for granted. Now, you have to live with that.”

Later, in the Drivers’ Lounge

Lando sat alone, staring at his phone, the endless stream of unanswered messages mocking him. The door swung open, and Max and Charles stepped in, glancing at him with a mix of pity and frustration.

Max crossed his arms, looking down at him. “You’re a mess, Lando.”

Lando’s head snapped up, eyes bloodshot. “What do you want me to say? I know I screwed up.”

Charles sat beside him, his voice gentle but firm. “Why didn’t you see it sooner? Y/N was always there for you. We all saw it – the way she looked at you, the way she believed in you. And you threw it all away for what? A title?”

“It’s not just about the title!” Lando said, his voice breaking. “I was under so much pressure… everyone was expecting me to be perfect, to finally beat Max. I thought… I thought if I just focused, if I could just give everything to racing, I’d be enough.”

Max shook his head, his expression a rare mix of sympathy and disappointment. “And now? Are you enough?”

Lando’s throat tightened, and he looked down, unable to answer. The truth hung heavy in the silence, a truth he could no longer deny.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I keep replaying that night, every horrible word I said to her… and I can’t take any of it back.”

Charles placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes, Lando… there’s no going back. Maybe you just have to live with the choices you made.”

Back in the Garage

As the race weekend continued, the fans picked up on it too. Lando’s pit crew noticed his silence, the empty look in his eyes when he glanced toward the area where Y/N would usually stand, cheering him on. His lap times were erratic, and his usual spark was gone.

Carlos passed by, catching Lando looking lost and out of place in his own space. He leaned over, his voice low. “You’re hurting now, aren’t you? Feeling what she felt when you pushed her away. But you have to understand – you did this to yourself.”

Lando’s voice wavered, a raw edge of desperation seeping through. “Carlos, please. I can’t lose her. I don’t know how to do any of this without her.”

Carlos shook his head, his face impassive. “You made that choice when you told her she was just a distraction. She loved you, Lando. Truly loved you. But you made her feel like she wasn’t worth your time.”

Lando��s face fell, the words striking him harder than any crash he’d ever endured. “I thought I could fix it…”

“Some things can’t be fixed,” Carlos said, voice cold. “Some things… you have to live with. You’re going to realize, probably too late, that your title won’t fill the space she left. You traded something priceless for something you can only hold for a year.” With that, Carlos walked away, leaving Lando alone to the silence of his regrets.

---

Lando sat on the edge of his bed in his darkened hotel room, staring at his phone screen. His fingers hovered over the screen as he typed out another message to Y/N, his heart sinking lower with every word. He’d sent so many texts over the past few weeks, each one unanswered, each one leaving him more desperate than before.

Text Messages to mylove<3

Lando: I know I don’t deserve it, but please, Y/N, just talk to me. Please.

Lando: I’m so sorry. I was wrong, about everything. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing keeping me grounded.

Lando: I can’t believe I said those things to you. Please, I need to make it right.

Lando: Y/N, please come back. I miss you so much. I miss us.

The messages stayed marked as “delivered” but never “read.” Each notification that appeared on his screen felt like a punch to his gut. He opened their old messages, scrolling through the conversations where she used to send him good luck texts, little jokes, and photos that made him laugh on the toughest days. Now, the screen was empty, and it tore at him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He tried one last time, his fingers trembling.

Lando: Please, Y/N. Just one word. Just let me know you’re okay.

He waited, staring at the screen, hoping against hope that this time, she’d respond. But there was nothing. Just the cold silence of his phone screen mocking him, reminding him of the gaping hole he’d created in his life.

Finally, he threw the phone onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. A shuddering breath escaped him as he fought back the tears that had been welling up since she’d left. The weight of his regret was crushing, pressing down on his chest until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He broke down, the sobs wracking his body as he thought about all the times he’d taken her presence for granted, all the ways she’d been his rock, his source of strength. And now, in his pursuit of a title, he’d thrown it all away.

“Why did I do this?” he whispered to the empty room, his voice barely audible through the tears. “Why was I so stupid?”

He thought back to the last time he’d seen her, the pain in her eyes, the betrayal. She had been there through every single moment of his career, from the early struggles to his first win. And in the blink of an eye, he’d reduced her to something he could discard.

The sobs only grew louder, his shoulders shaking as the guilt crushed him. He could barely breathe, the weight of it all suffocating him. He’d lost the one person who truly loved him, who’d been there through everything – and now, he’d do anything to turn back time, to tell her how much she meant to him, to take back every cruel word.

But it was too late. All he had now was the silence, the cold realization of what he’d lost forever.

With trembling hands, he picked up his phone once more, typing out another desperate message, his vision blurred from the tears.

Text Message to mylove<3

Lando: I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll wait forever if I have to. I just… I just want you back.

But even as he hit send, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. And that knowledge only made the pain cut deeper, leaving him sobbing in the dark, broken and alone.

----

The championship had come down to the final race, and it slipped through Lando’s fingers. Second place. It was supposed to be the peak of his career, the culmination of years of hard work and sacrifice. But as he stood on the podium, looking out over the cheering crowd, all he felt was emptiness.

He’d traded everything for a shot at the title. And now, even with the world’s eyes on him, he felt alone.

The post-race interview was supposed to be about the championship battle. The questions started there, but it quickly turned into something else, something Lando couldn’t hold back any longer.

He took a deep breath, voice wavering as he spoke into the microphone. “I know today was supposed to be a celebration, and it should be. But I need to be honest… I made a huge mistake this season, one that I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

The room went silent, the reporters leaning forward, sensing the weight of his words.

“I… I let the pressure of this championship get to me. I thought that if I could just focus, if I could give everything to racing, I’d find happiness. But in that process, I lost the most important thing in my life.” His voice broke, his hand tightening around the mic as he struggled to continue. “I pushed away the person who’s been there for me since the beginning. Through all the ups and downs, the wins and losses… she was always there, believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

Lando’s gaze drifted to the floor, shame filling his expression. “And I told her she was a distraction. I let her believe she wasn’t enough because I was too blinded by this… this dream. I’m an idiot for thinking a title could ever replace someone like her. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you more than anyone ever should, and if I could take it all back, I would. I’d give up every race, every trophy, every… every chance at this championship if it meant having you back. You were never a distraction. You were the only thing that kept me grounded, that kept me… sane.”

His eyes lifted to the camera, his voice soft but clear. “If… if she’s watching this, if she can hear me… I just want her to know that I’m sorry. More than anything, I want her to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I love her. And I would give up everything, every podium, every title… just to have her back. I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. And now… now I’d do anything, anything to make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, but if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me… I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like that again.”

The room was quiet, the air thick with the weight of his confession. Lando’s face was streaked with the tears he’d tried to keep at bay, his vulnerability laid bare for the world to see.

Days Later, Monaco

Back in Monaco, Lando felt like a shell of himself. He moved through his days on autopilot, haunted by the memories of what he’d lost. The house felt empty without her presence, her laughter, her comforting words. He spent hours lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, replaying that interview in his head, hoping that maybe, somehow, she’d heard his words.

Then, one quiet evening, there was a knock at the door. It was tentative, hesitant, as if the person on the other side was unsure.

Lando’s heart raced as he walked to the door, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest. He opened it slowly, and there she was – Y/N, standing on his doorstep, tears in her eyes. Her face was etched with a mixture of pain and longing, the same emotions he’d been carrying since the day she left.

There she stood, Y/N, with tear-streaked cheeks and an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, the softness in her eyes bringing fresh pain and, maybe, a glimmer of hope.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper, his heart pounding so hard he could barely breathe.

She blinked up at him, trying to hold back more tears. “I saw your interview, Lando,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly.

He swallowed, nodding, unsure of what to say. “I… I meant every word. I know it doesn’t change what I did, but—”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, stepping closer. “I know you did. And I believe you.”

Lando’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling over him like a warm blanket, thawing the cold ache that had plagued him for weeks. “Does that… does that mean…”

She nodded, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips. “I forgive you, Lando.”

Unable to hold back anymore, he closed the distance between them, arms wrapping around her, holding her close like she might disappear if he let go. She melted into his embrace, her own arms wrapping around him tightly, her face buried in his chest.

“I’m so, so sorry,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was so stupid. I should’ve known—”

“Shh,” she whispered, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “We both said things we didn’t mean. I just… I missed you so much.”

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, too. I’d give up everything if it meant I’d never hurt you again. I don’t care about the championship, Y/N. None of it matters without you.”

Her hand came up to rest on his cheek, and she gave him a watery smile. “I don’t want you to give up anything, Lando. I just… I want to be part of your life, not something you feel you need to push away.”

“You are my life,” he said fervently, pressing his forehead against hers. “And I’ll never, ever forget that again.”

She laughed softly, though it was more of a hiccup, as more tears slipped down her cheeks. “Promise?”

He nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I swear. I’m not letting go this time, no matter what. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, grounding herself in his warmth. “Because I don’t think I could ever walk away again.”

Without another word, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, the kind that seemed to say all the things he’d failed to put into words. She kissed him back, pouring every ounce of her love and forgiveness into it, their arms tightening around each other as if trying to make up for every moment they’d lost.

When they finally pulled back, both of them breathless, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You know,” she said softly, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. “I kind of enjoyed seeing you grovel on national television.”

He chuckled, his laugh a little choked with emotion. “Well, if that’s what it takes to make you stay, I’ll do it every day if I have to.”

She shook her head, a laugh escaping her. “I don’t think you’ll need to. Just… remember to let me in, okay? We’re a team, you and me.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “A team. Forever.”

And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Lando felt for the first time in weeks that everything might actually be okay again.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving VI

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your schedules don't match

You love Alexia.

You were only little when your father died. You didn't quite understand it.

Your father was a football fan, a big Barcelona supporter so all of his daughters got taken to games with him.

Alba was never that into sports, even just watching them.

Alexia was definitely sporty. You think she was what your father really wanted. She plays football and she adores it.

Your father was already sick by the time you were born. He was already struggling but he still took you to matches. It didn't click with you like it did with Alexia but he could still some athletic speck in you.

He took you to a tennis match instead. He'd never had much interest in tennis but he seemed to know what would appeal to you. You were tiny and Mama had been worried that you wouldn't be able to sit through a match.

But you did.

You sat through a whole match and fell in love then and there.

You were still little though and your father was still sick but he took you to as many lessons as he could.

He was a football fan but he could learn tennis for you.

He never could in the end, not when he died so suddenly.

But then Alexia took over. She didn't understand tennis and she still doesn't understand but she took you to every lesson and went to every match.

You just wish she understood the difference in your schedules.

She was getting ready for another round of Euro qualifiers even though Spain had already qualified. You were at Wimbledon, trading shots with Iga on the practice courts.

"Have you called your sister yet?" She asks, sitting down next to you as you guzzle down your water.

You roll your eyes. "In a minute."

"Do it now."

"What are you? One of my sisters?"

You're teasing her.

Iga is the world number one, by a lot of points. You sit just outside of the top ten. It's a little annoying, your own inconsistency. You can pull it out of the bag during big matches like Grand Slams but you suffer a bit in some of the less grand tournaments.

You're officially the youngest player this tour so you know you're getting babied by some of the other players, Iga especially.

You hadn't thought she had even known who you were until your coach told you she was the one who pushed him to take you on.

She thought you were on your way to being one of the greats.

She also thought you would make a great doubles partner one day.

It was different moving to Poland, away from your Mama and your sisters but Iga made it easy.

She was easy-going and you practically lived at her place so, yeah, you guess she took the more sisterly role in your life with Alexia and Alba at home in Spain.

"Go and call your sister," Iga laughs, spraying you with her bottle until you shriek and run off," And grab me a protein bar or something!"

You roll your eyes but head off, pulling out your phone to video call your sister.

It rings for barely a second.

"Hi Jenni," You say," Can you give Alexia back her phone? I need to talk to her."

"You don't want to talk to me, mini Putellas? I'm offended!"

"If I wanted to talk to you, I'd have called you!"

Jenni laughs before Alexia appears on screen, snatching the phone away from her ex.

"How are you?" Alexia asks, cramming her face onto the screen.

"I'm good!" You laugh," You look good too. Covered in sweat."

"You can talk," Alexia teases back," Have you just had a workout?"

"Practice pitch with Iga," You say," We've got matches coming up."

Alexia frowns. "What do you mean?"

"We've got matches in the next few days. It's Wimbledon, remember?"

Alexia shakes her head. "No. That was last year."

"It happens every year, Ale," You remind her," Me and Iga are competing and then it's a quick turnaround for the Olympics."

Alexia's frowning. "No, because I've got a match on the twelfth. You're flying out with Mama and Alba."

"The Wimbledon final is on the thirteenth. I need to stay."

"What?"

"Iga's out and I've got a real chance. I could really do it."

"But...What about my match?"

"What about mine?" You counter with a sigh," Ale, our schedules just don't match this time. I'm sorry."

"But..."

It's clear to the other girls in the room that Alexia's getting a bit distressed as her mouth opens and closes as she tries to formulate a response.

"But..."

"Listen, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Hey, wait-"

You put the phone down and Alexia just stares down at it, frozen as she looks at your profile picture.

"What's up with the long face?" Jenni pokes her in the cheek. "You're more frowny than usual."

"Nothing. I just...My sister can't come to the game."

"Well, duh, Alexia. She's got Wimbledon to win. She can't just fly out to us."

"I know but..." She blows out all her air. "Never mind. I'm just...I'm gonna go."

When you were little, Alexia tried to go to as many of your matches as she could manage. Sometimes she would come straight from her own games, still in full kit to catch your last ten minutes or so.

It was difficult but it worked.

You've gone professional now and branched out, travelling the world to take part in tournaments and games so you can work your way up and become the world number one.

She shouldn't be upset about you missing her match and her missing yours because that's just how sports work. So many went on at the same time that it was impossible to make every match but, still, a deep pit forms in Alexia's stomach as she thinks about missing your final.

Across the world, you prepare.

You practice on the courts with Iga and your coach. You eat well. You sleep well. You watch Alexia's match on the tv and wish you could be there but Alexia's no longer the only athlete in the family.

She had her career and you have yours.

Paolini is who you face in the final and she keeps you on your toes the entire time. She hits hard and fast and you go one set down immediately.

You pull it back though, managing to equalise the next set and then it's all to play for.

You take a few gasping breaths as you guzzle down your water, leaning back in your seat.

You look up at your box, where your family is watching.

Mama is there, of course, and so is Alba. Alba looks incredibly bored. You know she only comes to the tennis because of you and you're glad she's trying to be supportive but she truly looks like she's about to fall asleep in her seat.

Mama looks much more engaged. She'd told you once that she preferred the pace of tennis to football. There was less risk of injuries in tennis, no one around to slide tackle you or crash into you.

The most harm your opponent could do was smash a ball into your face and that rarely happened. Sure, you could slip and fall but it's not like footballers didn't do that too.

Out of the two sports her daughters played, Mama always found herself calmer at the tennis.

Mama waves at you and nudges Alba in the ribs so she can look up from her phone to wave too.

Your brows draw together in confusion.

There's an empty seat between them and you can't understand why.

So, you just kind of stare as you puzzle out who could be sitting there.

It's not until she comes back, with two beers and a hotdog that you realise who is filling that seat.

She looks exhausted. You can tell even through those stupid big sunglasses and the even stupider hat she's wearing.

She must have gone straight from her match to the airport to get here in time and crashed in Mama and Alba's room to keep it all a secret.

So, Alexia sits in her seat and you grab your racket.

You've got a set to win.

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: After your last night with Oliver you question if things were even real, did you want them to be? Or are things better left unsaid.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), dub con, drowning (kind of, their in a bath it’s more of like a forced breath play thing no one actually dies), sex in a bath, generally fucked up smut overall again

Read part 1 here (this can be read as a one shot too)

You didn’t wake up until nearing noon, up to this point you didn’t realise that had even been an option. Moments after you realised that something must have woken you up in the first place, there was a light knock on the door from one of the maids, a welcome change to the usual bursting in and blinding you with light pouring in from the freshly opened curtain you thought for a few seconds before she did exactly that.

‘Good morning miss, did you sleep well?’ She questions, her voice cheerful as she opens the curtains letting the sunlight flood into the room. Your eyes still adjusting to the dawn, the memories of last night rushing back into your mind. Your ripped night dress and falling asleep naked must have looked suspicious enough but to add to this you were certain your hair must have been a mess. It was only upon looking down towards yourself to cover up that you found yourself wearing a different night dress, one you can’t remember ever having seen before, your hair felt as if it was tied back and your torn nightwear was nowhere to be found.

‘I slept fabulously, thank you for asking’ you reply, feeling like your speech was slurred from drowsiness.

‘Breakfast is ready downstairs’ she replied before exiting the room, the second the door closed you rushed out of bed and almost sprinted towards the mirror. Was any of it real? You were now dressed where you remember sleeping naked, your hair was tied back and brushed where you remember it being down. Your mirror was against the wall like usual and as much as you may try the damn thing wouldn’t budge an inch. The only thing remaining from the night before was the faint swell between your legs and a suspiciously red mark left around your neck, if it hadn’t been for this you would be questioning if the night previous had been real at all or if you’d finally become so delusional from tiredness that you’d hallucinated the entire thing.

You traveled through your day in a haze, you’d like to say that you hadn’t made an extra effort to seek out Oliver but you had once again wandered into every room, down every hall and through every garden, apparently after everything that had happened he was now conveniently a difficult man to find. Was he ever really there? All of those words he said and everything he did was it actually real? He did seem out of character, the Oliver you knew, albeit very vaguely, would never have come into your room, stripped you naked and fucked you like that. You weren’t even convinced he’d ever actually had sex before last night let alone was as depraved as you’d found him to be. Last night he asked you to come to him at 10pm sharp, to meet him in the bathroom that he and Felix shared, but should you go? If you doubted it was even real in the first place wouldn’t just turning up in their bath seem at the very least a little bit unhinged? You weren’t sure what to make or do with any of it, but if one thing was for certain you were going to find out.

The day hurried by and promptly turned to night, surely you’d see Oliver at dinner you thought to yourself, your little hunt that consumed your day proving fruitless. As always you dressed for dinner, this time opting for a white bias cut silk dress which clung to every curve. It somewhat resembled your torn (and now missing) night dress, the main differences being in the wider straps and being longer in length as the hem delicately brushed the floor.

You tried your best to keep your literal and metaphorical cool through the warm air of the summer night, strolling with ease through the door of the large dining room. Your eyes scanned the room for mere seconds before you found him, sitting silently in his usual seat cross from yours, eating and avoiding eye contact at all costs. Taking your seat the usual chit chat continued around you with food placed elegantly in front of you, your eyes beaming forward burning a hole into the forehead of the man across from you in the hopes that your gaze would force his hand in some way. You’d searched for him all day, where could he have been? He looked almost angry. Summoning up your last ounce of bravery you decided, the only way to fight the bull is to grab him by the horns.

‘So Oliver, how did you sleep?’ You asked loudly across the table, loud enough for the rest of the dinner guests to hear, placing a pause over all the other conversations happening in your vicinity. Out of the corner of your eye you could just about make out the puzzled faces of the rest of the table, everyone now wondering how often they’d actually heard you address each other previously to this.

‘Fine, thank you Y/N’ he replied bluntly, his gaze finally meeting yours. You’d hoped opening up some kind of conversation with him would confirm your beliefs in some way, but instead he just looked angry. Maybe that was conformation enough in itself?

‘I thought I heard something from your side of the house’ you muttered out as the conversations around you slowly begin again. His blue eyes becoming black with anger almost daring you to say more as he sat unspoken.

‘Oh did you now?’ He questions. Definitely daring, you thought to yourself. You felt almost as if you were staring out a wild animal waiting to see just how long it would take for you to blink and for him to attack.

‘Yes, I thought I heard someone walking around near my room coming from your direction’ you continue, one hand playing nervously with the soft fabric of your dress underneath the table as the other shuffles food around your plate with your fork.

‘It’s an old house, all sorts of noises’ he replies, his head tilted slightly to the side as if to work out where you were going with this line of questioning. ‘Why, was there something you needed during the night?’ He ponders. Was he still daring you or was he just as confused about this whole situation as you were? Maybe you really had imagined the whole thing. He wouldn’t be asking you that if he had something to hide surely, you knew Felix had a temper with a hairpin trigger and absolutely no one wanted to provoke that. Or maybe that was exactly the point.

‘Oh no, it’s nothing really. Don’t worry, it just woke me up is all’ you reply, trying your best to sweep this entire conversation under the rug as much as humanly possible. You wanted to shrink away and become one with your chair, hiding in plain sight almost as if to disappear completely into a puddle of your own embarrassment. With a shrug Oliver went back to eating and ignoring you again, occasionally joining in with the others conversations as you pushed your food around your plate, taking anxious mouthfuls until the plate was almost entirely emptied.

‘Please may I be excused? I’m awfully tired’ you asked, your question pointed towards Elsbeth at the head of the table.

‘Of course my darling, sleep well’ she says as you hurry off, granting the room a brief Goodnight and a polite smile before making your way down the corridor.

Despite all of this, at 10pm you found yourself pacing your room, if any of it had been real you were well aware that you were late by now, your pacing only increasing as the clock ticks to 10:01pm, 10:02pm and before you knew it 10:05pm.

‘Fuck it’ you whispered to yourself, heading out of your room and down the corridor in the direction of Oliver’s room. Taking off your shoes to be as quiet as possible, your dress swung at your ankles as you almost stormed your way towards the bathroom, your feet padding cautiously but quickly against the wooden floor.

Finally arriving after what felt like hours of walking you found the bath freshly drawn yet the room suspiciously empty. At least this partially confirmed that you hadn’t manufactured this entire situation in your haze of exhaustion. The lights dimmed to their lowest setting you can barely see into the corners of the room, you make your way over to the mirror to take in your reflection standing in front of the sink. Resting your hands against it you check the room again, still no one to be found or so you thought. Letting out a frustrated sigh you concluded that if someone was watching you, as you hoped they were, you’d give them a show.

Sliding the first silk strap down your shoulder you glide your hand across your chest, down to your shoulder and off of your arm. You follow the same with your other arm, still holding the dress to your body as you take one last look around the room before dropping your dress to the floor the white fabric pooling at your feet, a stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the room. Your movements continued as you slipped your bra off, once released massaging your own shoulder softly to relieve yourself from the stress of the day. Your hands slipping lower you step out of your white, matching silk panties, the collection of fabrics joining your dress on the floor.

You turn away from the mirror, facing towards the bath, slowly stepping in and submerging your body in the water, the shine of the golden tub reflecting off of your skin. Dipping your hair in the water you look around the room full of hopefulness again, still, finding nothing. He had to be here, you were sure of it and if he wouldn’t come to you of his own free will, you’d make him just like he made you. Your hand begins to travel south, lowering between your legs rubbing soft circles into your clit. You feel the tension release from your body almost immediately as your pace increases, letting out a stream of breathy moans, the sound reverberating off of the tiles. Your eyes fall closed and your face begins to contort with pleasure as you feel your climax rapidly build, your mind replaying the previous night tempting your pleasure to reach its peak.

Just as quickly as your orgasm built, it was ripped away from you harshly. Your eyes still clenched shut in ecstasy you feel your wet hair being grasped firmly, pulling you under in the water. You try to hold your breath as you’re pushed under but the shock of it almost causes you to breathe the water in. Being held there for a couple of seconds your pulled up just as aggressively.

‘You think your such a clever girl, calling me out like that’ he growls, climbing on top of you still dressed in a white shirt and boxers. His body caging you in underneath him he puts his other hand around your face, squishing your jaw so that your mouth falls open, spitting into your mouth before pushing your head under water once more. You wish that you could have kept the taste of him on your tongue for a few seconds more, a thought that crossed your mind very briefly until you were filled with the panic of being drowned once again before being pulled to the surface once more.

‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just drown you now little one? You know that’s been my plan all along, fucking you and feeling you completely submissive underneath me, nothing you can do to stop me’ he growls, grinding his hard cock into the flesh of your thigh. ‘But you had to be a disobedient little whore, just like the rest of your fucking Catton family’ he continues, you open your mouth to reply but just as you breathe in to speak he plunges you under again, this time pulling your up faster, allowing you to cough up water and look up to him in fear. ‘There’s my good girl’ he sneers, this is exactly how he wanted you completely obedient and pliable underneath him. He wanted the power over you, to make you fear him and love him all at once, something that he was very much achieving. Almost as quickly as he had turned on you, his touch became soft almost loving and his words followed suit.

‘You looked so pretty in that dress, almost like an angel. You wear that for me sweetheart?’ He asks, releasing your hair to press one hand against the roll top of the bath near your head while still holding your cheeks softly in his other hand. You were almost wordless, the contrast in his actions totally throwing you off in a way you would have never expected. You thought you’d seen the darkest parts of him last night, but this was like you’d found another cavern in his soul filled with nothing but hatred for you and everyone around you.

‘Y-yes’ you stutter out, still catching your breath from being held under water, your eyes locked on his as he leans in closer, his face almost touching yours.

‘Yes, what?’ He asks, your eyes scanning his face rapidly to give him the answer he craves, the answer you wish with all your heart and mind to give him.

‘Yes.. sir’ you reply, your words coming out shakily, your body trembling in the gradually cooling water.

‘Such a good girl for me’ he says letting go of your face, his hand sliding down your curves, pulling your legs around his hips your heat pressing into his fully hardened length. He got off on drowning you, that was the first thing that sprung to mind when you felt him between your legs, he wanted your submission and my god did he have it. ‘Fuck’ he groans to himself as he grinds into you, it was almost as if he saw you as an object, just there for his ego.. and other things. Pulling his shirt over his head he discards the wet fabric to the floor beside the bath, pushing his boxers down and gliding the thick head of his cock through your folds.

‘Do you want me to fuck you angel? You’ve been such a good girl, you deserve a reward’ he asks as softly as he could in the given situation. You knew he didn’t really care what you said, if you refused he’d still take what he wanted from you but he knew you’d never turn him down not when he was the only person granting you the lustful excitement that you so craved.

‘Please sir, please fuck me’ you ask looking into his eyes in desperation.

‘Ah, that’s not quite good enough little one. Show me how much you want me’ he demands, pulling you up towards him, leaning back on his heels as he kneels in front of you, his hips lifted to your face height. Tentatively you licked down his shaft, your gaze held by his as you take more of him in your mouth. For the first time, he was letting you take control, his hands gripping the sides of the bath firmly, his knuckles whitening as his fists tighten. You knew not to break eye contact from your last time with him, he liked you to look at him, he loved the power it gave him over you as he moaned unashamed above you. Wouldn’t Felix hear? Wouldn’t you be in trouble? You thought. You’d suspected earlier today that this may be exactly what Oliver was betting on but right in this moment you didn’t care, you’d do anything to please him.

Your hands join your mouth wrapped around Oliver’s length, pumping him as his cheeks flush and one of his hands entangle in your hair gripping it and pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. ‘Fuck angel’ he almost whispers, as you feel him throbbing under your grip, he was close and you knew it. Your fists quickened their pace and you sucked his tip a little bit stronger until his eyes left yours, his head falling back against his shoulders as his eyes close and his face contorts in pleasure, pushing his tip right to the back of your throat causing you to choke as he empties himself into your windpipe, fucking your face as he rides out his orgasm. Just as his climax subsides he pulls his still hard length out of your mouth.

‘Open’ he demands, no other words. You thought he wanted to see that you’d swallowed but you hadn’t, his spend trickling out around the corners of your mouth. ‘Jesus, look at you’ his tone mixed between an insult and genuine concern. Just as you tried to swallow his load again, you were stopped feeling his mouth on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth immediately making your kiss a mixture of both of your saliva and his cum emptying your mouth of it as he pushes you back against the bath, wrapping your legs around his hips once more. The image of you like this seeming to have triggered something in him again, he immediately lines his cock up with your entrance and thrusts up into you making you let out a light scream in a mixture pleasure and pain as he splits you open.

His pace was fast, way faster than you expected as the remaining water in the bath splashes over the edges as he fucks you landing on the floor beside the tub. His eyes baring into yours once again he holds you up above the water line, the blood rushing throughout your body almost deafeningly as all of your senses heighten zoning in on Oliver. Your ruined orgasm returning almost as quickly as it left you feel yourself begin to clamp down on him, you know he can feel it, his hips grinding into yours forcing your orgasm from you almost violently.

‘Cum for me’ he asks, his tone almost begging at this point. ‘Let me hear it’ He demands, another contrast with last night, this time he wants to hear you. ‘Let them all hear it, let them know who you belong to, who fucks you like this’ his words faltering as you clamp down on him, riding out your orgasm loudly just ask he asked, the sound bouncing off the walls you were certain that they must have been able to hear you in the next village over let alone just in the house.

‘Fuck, you really are an angel, look at you’ he says, guiding your gaze to the mirrors over the sink to the side of you as you come down from your orgasm, still continuing at his blistering pace. Watching him fuck you was almost other worldly, the way the dim light reflected off of his almost translucent white skin. You could see his length thrust in and out of you as your eyes met his in the mirror. Pulling you out of your post orgasm haze he doubles down on his pace, one hand on the bath above you the other on your hip as his nails dig into your soft skin. Without warning he emptied himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours as he came within you his moans almost as loud as yours had just been.

Regaining your breaths he pulls out of you, sliding behind you in the bath washing your body clean with the remaining water as your back is pushed against his chest. You wanted to say something, to ask him what all of this meant or if it really meant anything to him at all. You knew you had feelings for him, feelings that grew stronger every time something like this happened between you. You had a need, a desperate want to make him happy, to impress him and to make him need you the way you needed him.

‘Did you enjoy your little lie in?’ He asks, some what out of context with the rest of what had just happened.

‘Uh.. yes’ you replied ‘I wasn’t aware the staff would let anyone sleep in after 8am’ you continued with a giggle.

‘That’s because they don’t. I told them to leave you be a little longer after your somewhat strenuous night’ he replies pressing kisses into your neck as he continues to clean you.

‘And they listened to you?’ You asked, partially amazed that the house staff would ever listen to the wishes of anyone other than the core members of the family.

‘They will’ He says, his voice sterner as his actions continue, pulling you in for one last kiss while running his fingers through your hair. ‘Oh they will my angel’ his words ring in your ear as you begin to fall asleep on his chest ignoring the rest of his sentence, you were his angel.

Tag list - @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirl @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey

[kombuuuu]

HEYY!!! Can you maybe write a fic or small drabble where fem!reader wants hobie to hang upside down so they can ‘spider man kiss’.

(also i luv the way you write hobie :P)

Spider Kisses

Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

“What’re you— oh!”

small thingyyyyy, added a little twist tho C:

—

“Hobie?” Your voice rang throughout the empty alleyway behind your apartment, light disappearing behind the building wall your lover was currently — decorating.

“Wh— Oh! [Name], babe, come look a’ this.”

You partner turned to you, currently hanging from a suspended pole connecting one building to another.

Webs wrapped around his ankles to keep him hanging upside-down. Left hand holding a green can of spray paint, and right holding a paint ridden cloth.

His shirt was riding up (down?) due to gravity, the small peak of skin covered in different paint streaks that matched the tones the wall was now bearing.

“what’re you doing up there?”

He shook the van again, spraying a little detail onto the mural, then wiping a line through the fresh paint to reveal the colour underneath.

“‘M paintin’, love.”

He turned to you, synthetic eyes wide and emoted.

“C’mere, come try.”

He shook the cloth in a ‘come hither’ motion, paint flecks landing on his shirt. You approached him happily, getting close to his mask-clad face.

“Don’ get too close t’ the fumes now, babe.” You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, turning back towards the art to get your first real look at it.

A low whistle came from behind you, “Nice view.”

“Shut it, bug.”

“Arachnid.”

“Whatever.”

You felt Hobie grab his web, releasing his ankles and dropping down by one arm. His feet hurting the ground with a small scuff.

Taking the first good look at his creation, you noticed how you were the centre of it. A dazzling smile with your features painted in a light you’d never known. He’d made you feel so beautiful.

The colours behind you complimented the shades of your hair and strokes of abstract making your features evermore admirable.

“Jesus, Hobie — this is gorgeous.”

“All you, babe.”

He crowded up behind you, letting his slender hands carter’s the skin along your waist and stomach. His muffled voice dropped low to your ear. “Like this, doll.” His right hand travelled up your arm, sliding over yours and disconnecting to wipe at the fresh paint.

His left hand stayed put against your abdomen, squeezing unconsciously. He handed you the cloth, watching your fingers wrap around the fabric and bringing his hand back to your upper arm, rubbing along your skin in a soothing matter.

“Now drag it along there, yeah? Right where it’s still wet.”

You snorted at the innuendo. Hobie scoffing at your childish thoughts and softly pinching your skin.

“Oh, grow up.”

You refocused, dragging your hand along the shade of purple and blue. Streaking them together and revealing the pink underneath.

“Good, you’re a natural at this point.”

You laughed lightly, turning your head towards his.

“It was one stroke, Hobes.”

He winked, a devilish smirk rising his smile lines. “All it takes wit’ you, ain’t it?”

“Oh my god, you’re crude.”

“Nah baby, ‘m honest ‘s all.”

You brought your hand back towards you looking up at the painting again. "Finishing touches."

You gave him a quick, curious "hmm?", before you felt the cloth leave your hands too fast for you to realise. The "thwip" of his webs alerting you of his methods — right as the sound registered in your head, he had shot another back onto the aforementioned pipe, and reached to swipe at the paint around your hair, melting it into you and making you stand out stark against the cohesive colours. "Looks good, dun' it babe?"

"Uhuh."

He spared you a glance, smiling under his mask at the distracted sound of your voice, when he caught you watching him, and not his painting — he could excuse it.

A thought had breached your head, one that had been popping up ever since you had gone to dimension 1806 with him.

—

"Hobie, I'm not a spider person! I can't leave!"

"But I made you a watch?" "

Yes— thank you, I love it. But also that's not the point."

"But the watch.."

"Fuck, fine. Whatever. Don't use that tone on me again."

"Say it's for science."

"Fuck science."

—

That day you had found something.. intriguing. A comic. With a rather interesting cover design. Spiderman — not yours — plastered on the front, upside down, with his mask folded up and kissing Mary Jane. It was probably the most romantic thing you'd ever seen. And now you had the chance.

"Baby."

Hobie stopped wiping the excess paint, giving you his full attention. "Yeah doll, what's 'e matter?"

"Can you— do the thing.. you were doing before?"

He gave you a quizzical look, eyes in his mask squinting. "Painting? I'm almost done, sweethear'. Now I just got'a wipe way the—,"

"No.. no, the uhh.. Thing."

"Babe, ya' gon' have ta' be a bit more specific."

"The— upside down thing."

He snorted. Still hanging from his left hand. "Wh— yeah? I can do it, but—,"

"Don't question my decisions, Hobes."

"God damn, sweethear', speak t' me like 'at more often."

You laughed just as he did, glee falling from your lips as you shifted closer to him. He twisted his body to raise his legs above himself, wrapping the webs around his ankles once more.

"Now what—"

You brought your hands up to his spandex covered cheeks, tracing the lines of his cheekbones under the soft skin of your fingers. Tracing your hands higher, you toyed with the lip of his mask. Exposing the skin of his neck and watching his Adams apple bob out of nerve. "Can I?"

"Whatever you want, Luv."

You rolled the mask just past his nose, hooking it over his bridge, surprising him. He opened his mouth to question why you hadn't taken the whole thing off, before your lips stopped him.

He melted into you, your hands stroking over his cheeks and chin.

It was awkward trying to find your position at first, but you both quickly adapted, his hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer to him. You smiled into the kiss and he followed, laughing about how this was the motive to your request.

Your lips disconnected and he grinned like a fool.

"Tha's why?"

"Oh, shut. It was romantic."

He chuckled again, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Never said otherwise, pretty thing."

—

phone still broken , just like my heart hastag KIILL ME BOW

that was sarcasm but YIPEEEE HOBIEEEE!!!!!

[tightjeansjavi]

Tongue Tied

Joel Miller x f!reader

NSFW 🔞

A/N: I came up with this idea at work 😵‍💫 this one specifically is for @chaotic-mystery you’re welcome bby! This can be read as a stand-alone piece or a blurb/one-shot for ‘Burning in a Hopeless Dream’

Summary: a game of spin the bottle ends exactly how you imagine it to; you and Joel, a headboard banging, and tongues tied.

~word count : 4.2k~

Warnings: possessive! joel, jealous! joel, a lil feral and horny! joel, established relationship, swearing, tension, mentions of alcohol, smut, filth, consent, teasing, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap that willy) oral (f receiving) a huge fucking praise kink, nicknames, cock warming, like just a whole lot of filth. Y’all get the warnings. (+18) minors dni !

Songs used:

“Small Talk” by Niall Horan

“Tonight you are Mine” by The Technicolors

“Dirty Love” by Mt. Joy

“Talk” by Hozier

It was Joel’s brilliant idea to throw you a ‘we’re so glad the knife didn’t go too deep!’ Party.

For some context, just two months ago, you were stabbed by one of Robert’s henchmen. You nearly bled out on Joel and Tess’s kitchen table. Joel was at your side the entire time you were recovering and now that you fully healed, what better way to celebrate than with a little dark humor, real fucking booze, and good company.

Tess had brought her friend Bea over and you already had your sneaking suspicion that they were an item already. Or, at the very least, they were 1000% fucking. Joel was a little slow with these sorts of things but you knew in time, he would figure it out. Regardless, you were happy for Tess and your friendship was seemingly coming full circle. Hell had certainly freezed over at that point. You, and Tess? Friends? Who would have ever thought that was even fucking possible. I guess you almost bleeding to death on the kitchen table was enough for her to finally end the quarrel between you two.

“Where in the hell did you manage to find some real fucking whiskey Tess?”

You were sitting across Joel’s lap on the couch. His arm was loosely wrapped around your waist, his fingers lightly holding onto the side of your hip where the soft skin there met your thigh. He always had to be touching you somehow. Being affectionate was something that Joel really never understood, nor cared for, but you changed his view on it. Now? He couldn’t get enough of you, or your skin on his. He was painfully addicted, royally and utterly fucked, because of you.

You felt him lightly tap his fingers against the sliver of skin exposed under your t-shirt as he took a sip from his own glass.

“Would you believe me if I told you those Fedra fucks somehow have their own stash of top-shelf booze?”

You brought the rim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip and you could feel Joel staring at you. Not in a weird, or creepy way. He was admiring you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Makes me hate them just a little bit more than I already do. Seriously though, what did you have to do to get this stuff?”

Tess laughed and took a sip from her own glass as she leaned back against the wall. “A handjob and a real quick one at that. Dude lasted all of 30 seconds. It was pretty pathetic but hey, I wanted to make sure you could taste some of the real fucking stuff for once. You earned it.”

Joel let out a weird noise, covering it with a chuckle over the rim of his glass. He had lightly squeezed your hip.

You weren’t even phased by Tess’s answer in the slightest.

“30 fucking seconds? Now that is honestly really pathetic. I appreciate you putting yourself through that bullshit. This stuff is definitely better than the other crap we’ve been drinking. So thank you again.” You raised your glass in her direction, a small grin on your lips.

Tess mirrored your actions, raising her glass in your direction before taking a sip.

“Just don’t expect me to put myself through that ever again, alright?”

You giggled, leaning back against Joel’s broad chest, shaking your head.

“Oh god, No! I will never expect you to put yourself through that again!”

It was Tess’s idea for everyone to play a friendly game of spin the bottle. As soon as she suggested it, Joel was grumbling about how it was a stupid game for teenagers and that he would not be participating in those kinds of shenanigans.

“Tess. I ain’t playin’ a silly little girls game. That shit is for teenagers. Do I look like a fuckin’ teenager to you?”

“No, but you’re fucking acting like one right now, Texas. Besides, if you get lucky enough, you’ll get to kiss your girl. C’mon, just one round.”

“I ain’t gotta get lucky enough to kiss her. Can kiss her whenever I want.” He gruffly spoke.

You gave him a light jab to his side with your elbow, turning around in his lap and gave him a warning look.

“Keep acting like that and you’re never gonna get to kiss me again cowboy.”

Joel narrowed his eyes at you challengingly. His eyebrow quirked up in your direction as he leaned in close enough for you to taste the warm whiskey on his breath.

“You wanna fuckin’ bet on that one sugar?” He went to brush his thumb against your plush, lower lip when you had given his chest a light shove, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shuddup. You and I both know you’re not gonna win this one, honey. So get up from this fuckin couch and play this game with us. Or, you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

Joel grumbled something under his breath as he stared at you for a minute longer. He was trying to gauge if you were bullshitting him but by the way you stared right back, he knew you were dead serious.

“Fuckin’ gonna get you back for this sweetheart. You’ll see.”

You reached over and gave his cheek a light, affectionate pat, brushing your thumb against the coarse hair on his beard.

“Mhm. I’m sure you will, cowboy.”

Tess and Bea were already sat on the floor across from each other, an old empty beer bottle between them.

“Jesus fuck. You guys just gonna continue to eye fuck eachother or are we gonna play the game? Just one round, and then we’ll get out of your hair so you guys can rip each other's clothes off.” Tess said with a grin.

Your cheeks heated up at the slightest, from Tess’s crudeness, and the warm whiskey flowing through your veins.

You stood up from the couch, turning to look back at your lover, who was staring right back at you.

“C’mon Joel. Don’t make me ask you again.”

When he rolled his eyes in response, you wasted no time to grab his hand, yanking him up from the couch in one swift movement.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ woman. Alright, alright. I’m up.” He begrudgingly took a seat across from you on the worn carpet.

“We all know the rules, right? I mean..they’re fairly simple anyway.”

“Yeah, Tess. Just fuckin’ get on with it already.” Joel grumbled.

Tess turned to you and pushed the bottle in your direction.

“Think you get the first honors of spinning. Only fair after what you went through.”

You held your hand against your chest in mock shock as Tess gave you the first spin.

“Really? Wow, Tess. I think I’m going to document this moment forever.” You jokingly said.

“Oh, shut up. You’re lucky I actually have learned how to tolerate you. Now go on, spin.”

“I’m so loved.” You said with a giggle before grasping the bottle between your fingers, glancing at the three of them before you spun The bottle.

It spinned a few times before slowly coming to a stop. The opened end of the bottle was pointed directly at Tess.

You glanced at Joel for a moment. His brows were furrowed in slightly as he observed where the bottle was pointing. He was unashamedly looking forward to this, and you could tell just by the way he took his time with bringing the rim of his glass to his lips. His eyes were locked on yours, a smirk appearing.

“Well, you gonna kiss her baby doll?”

You could tell Tess was a little hesitant as she looked at you. You on the other hand? You were already scooting towards her. The liquor was giving you a bit of confidence boost as you reached for her face, gently holding her cheeks in your warm palms.

“You good with this?” You asked, while stroking your thumbs against her soft skin gently.

Tess had given you a slight nod of consent before you leaned in, just lightly brushing your lips against hers, your eyes fluttering shut as you pulled her in close. You teased her for a moment before fully pressing your lips against hers.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Tess kissed you back as she reached up, threading her fingers through your hair.

The kiss lasted all of 30 seconds as you bit down on her lower lip, tugging it out with your teeth before gently releasing it.

Tess had given you one last peck before she pulled back, grabbing what was left of her glass and tossed it down her throat.

“Fuck, I see why you like her so much Miller. She’s a damn fuckin good kisser.”

Joel was looking right at you as he spoke, nodding his head.

“Mhm. She damn well is. Don’t go gettin’ any ideas about stealin’ my girl Tess. She’s all mine, and I don’t take kindly to sharin’.”

You were used to Joel’s possessive nature by now. You lived through it. For some reason, hearing him say ‘my girl’ did something to you. You were absolutely counting down the minutes till Tess and Bea would leave so that you could have Joel all to yourself.

A few more rounds were played, much to Joel’s disapproval. You had ended up kissing Tess a couple more times and when you had slid into her lap at one point, Joel had enough. You could tell he was jealous just by the clench of his jaw, the furrow of his brows and the way he clutched the whiskey glass in his fist. You were afraid if he held it any tighter, the glass would surely break.

Whoops.

Tess and Bea got the memo pretty quick and had left after you crawled out her lap, an innocent look stricken across your pretty face.

“Did ya enjoy yourself sweetheart?” Joel was absentmindedly spinning the bottle now, his gaze falling on you.

“Mhm. Best, ‘we’re so glad the knife didn’t go deeper’ party ever.”

“Mmm. Thought so. You really liked kissin’ on Tess like that huh? You gonna save any of that for me?”

You were leaned back on your elbows as you looked over at him, an eyebrow raised in a suggestive manner.

“You jealous or something cowboy? You looked to be enjoying yourself as well. How about you take a final spin? See if you get lucky tonight.”

“Mmm. I ain’t got nothin’ to be jealous about when I know I get you at the end of the night.”

He spun the bottle once and watched it land facing you. You could both feel the air getting thick with tension. The chemistry was absolutely sizzling, sending all the warning signs that it was about to explode.

“Guess you are getting lucky tonight.”

Joel didn’t even have a moment to respond before you were in his lap, straddling his hips. The tension had shattered when he immediately grasped your hips between his rough, calloused palms. He bunched the thin fabric of your t-shirt up so he could finally touch your warm skin, he felt the goosebumps rising already.

“C’mon pretty girl. Kiss me already, please. You gonna make me beg ya?” He drawled.

You loved having Joel beneath you like this and at your mercy. You loved the way he looked up at you with his deep, puppy dog brown eyes. His lips were held in a slight pout as you brushed your thumb across his lower lip, watching as he nibbled on the tip of your finger.

God, submissive Joel was so fucking sexy.

You leaned down, grabbing his face in your hands before you finally kissed him, slotting your lips together as you held control of the situation. You knew it would only for a short moment before he’d take over. He lowly mumbled against your lips, your tongues tangled, teeth clashing.

“How do you want me tonight baby? You want it sweet? Rough? Filthy?”

He slid his hands up the expanse of your back, his fingers splayed out against your skin.

“All of the above, cowboy. I fucking want it all.”

He flipped you over onto your back with ease, yanking you down so you were underneath him. He was gripping your chin between his fingers, while his thumb brushed against your lower lip. Now you were looking up at him, anticipating his next move, while you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb, eyelashes fluttering. The sight of you beneath him, looking so needy, so pretty for him, had his cock twitching in his jeans.

“Look at you baby. You look so fuckin pretty for me honey. Fuck. Don’t look at me with those eyes. Y’know what those things do to me? Fuckin’ got me meltin’ like putty.” His Texas accent was thick, warm, deep, and it settled deliciously between your legs. You were aching for him already.

“Joel. Baby, please. C’mon.”

“Shh. I know, pretty girl. Gonna treat you real good, okay? You know I will. I got you, you got me. Now wrap your legs ‘round me. Ain’t gonna fuck you on the floor. Next time, Kay sugar? Want you on the bed.”

Joel didn’t have to ask you twice as you wrapped your thighs around his hips while he lifted you up into his arms with ease, grasping you by the outside of your thighs.

He managed to reattach his lips to yours while he carried you down the hall, using his hip to push open your shared bedroom. You only had a moment to breathe when he had tossed you onto the mattress. Your lips were swollen, and your face flushed as you watched him pull his shirt over his head with one hand.

It easily was one of the sexiest things a man could do. Even more sexy because Joel Miller was your man. Your fellow, your guy.

You let out a soft, heart clenching giggle as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with warm kisses. His beard lightly scraped at your skin but you didn’t mind. You fucking loved it.

“Fuckin’ damn near lost my mind when you kissed Tess like that. Fuckin’ filthy of you to climb in her lap. What would have happened if I wasn’t in the room? Hmm sweet girl? Bet you woulda kept goin’.”

His kisses moved from your face to your jaw, and down your neck. He was sucking greedily at your tender flesh. His teeth, lips and tongue worked in a steady flow as he left his marks upon you. He loved the way you would grip his hair, and scrape your nails against his scalp. The feeling had his eyes rolling back into his skull.

“Joel..” you whimpered out his name as he continued to mark you up.

“Yeah, baby? Is it too much? Want me to stop?” He mumbled against your skin. His fingers were pushing your shirt back up, exposing more of your skin. His fingertips lightly brushed against your navel.

“Don’t stop, please. I need more. Joel, baby give me more.”

“Needy little thing for me, huh? Don’t want me to take my time with ya? Mmm..I think you can be a little patient, right sweet girl?”

“Touch me or so help me god—“

His fingers were at the waistband of your jeans, he had popped the button open and was now toying with the zipper.

He loved holding you over the edge like this.

“What’re gonna do about it if I don’t give you what you want, honey? C’mon. Be a good girl for me.”

You let out a frustrated huff, a whine slipping past your throat because you were that fucking desperate for his touch. You absolutely craved it.

“Joel, please. Want you, want your fingers, your tongue. Want it all, please. Please just fucking touch me.”

He chuckled while he slowly dragged your zipper down, slipping his fingers between the waistband of your jeans and your panties.

“Mmm. Well, since you said please…”

He brushed his fingers against your clit, watching as your pretty lips fell open and he drank it all in.

“Take your shirt off for me, sugar. Play with your pretty tits while I play with your pussy, Kay? Fuckin’ wet for me already. Absolutely drippin.’ That for me, or Tess?”

“Both.” You deadpanned as you wasted no time to lift your shirt above your head, tossing it to the side.

Joel couldn’t help but lean down and wrap his lips around one of your peaked buds as he sank his teeth against the sensitive skin, causing your body to jolt up slightly.

He had used his free hand, that wasn’t teasing you, to push your jeans down your legs. He yanked them down past your ankles, along with your panties.

All it took was for him to tap your thigh lightly and you were spreading your legs for him as if on command.

Damn him.

“Absolutely fuckin filthy. Look at you baby. Drippin’ for me, and Tess.”

He was teasing your slick folds, watching your face the entire time, with intensity. He watched your mouth go slack when he had slowly slipped in two of his fingers, pumping them slowly. He loved the way your eyes rolled back when he curled them against the soft, spongy texture of your walls.

Your moans filled the small room deliciously. He couldn’t wait to have you screaming so loud, the neighbors and patrolling FEDRA fucks would be able to hear you from outside.

“Feels good, huh baby? I gotta have a taste. Will you let me, sweet girl? Will you let me have a taste of your pretty little pussy?”

You grabbed his face, roughly pulling him down to you by his chin. You kissed him hard, tasting the smooth whiskey on his tongue, knocking the air out of your lungs and his. “Have a taste, cowboy.”

You pulled away from the searing kiss, your fingers still wrapped around his soft curls as you guided his head down, with zero hesitation.

“Fuckin’ don’t have to ask me twice.” He gruffly responded as he dragged his lips down your navel, scooting himself lower, on his knees. He used his free hand to yank you closer to him, holding his hand down against your stomach firmly with his arm wrapped around you, locking you in place.

He wasted no time to press a kiss to your aching cunt, dragging his tongue across your clit as he continued to curl his fingers. The combination was mind-numbing.

He had you moaning his name as if it was a fucking prayer. Each swipe of his tongue, each time he hit that spot that had you seeing stars, your moans would rise an octave. All for him. Your fellow, your guy.

“Sound so fuckin pretty for me baby. So fuckin pretty.” He mumbled against you, his mouth full of your pussy.

“F-f—fuck Joel. I’m—fuck. So good baby. So fuckin good.”

“Don’t come for me yet honey. Not yet, I know, sweet girl. Don’t give in.”

His beard was slightly scraping against your inner thighs, he shook his head back and forth, causing his nose to bump against your aching clit and your thighs to close in around his head. He surely had deep scratches along his scalp from how hard you were digging your nails into him.

“J—Joel! Fuck—stop! Stop! I can’t—baby I can’t hold on much longer!

His tongue was fiercely lapping at you now, your thighs squeezing, trembling around his head. You never thought the overwhelming euphoria would end till he lifting his mouth from you. His beard, and lips were coated in your arousal. His pupils darkened as he looked up at you.

Your other hand was toying with your breasts, pinching the sensitive nubs between your fingers as you panted, catching your breath as you looked down at your lover.

“Can I have a taste, please?” You breathed out.

He slipped his fingers out, they were coated in your arousal as he sat up on his knees, bringing them down to your lips, smearing them with your cum before he slipped them in. He watched as you wrapped your lips around his fingers, dragging your tongue across the ridges, your eyes fiercely locked on his.

“So fuckin’ pretty for me. You like the way you taste baby? You taste so fuckin’ sweet darlin’.”

He slipped his fingers out slowly, replacing them with his lips as he kissed you hard. Slipping his tongue past your lips with ease. There was something so erotic about you and him tasting your cum together.

You hear the sound of his belt clanking, his jeans dragging down his legs as he rid himself of his clothes, tossing them onto the floor with yours.

You were already pulling him in as close as possible when you felt his tip pressing against the side of your thigh, while his other hand was firmly wrapped around the headboard.

“Gonna scream for me darlin.’? Gonna let the neighbors fuckin’ know you’re mine?” He had detached his lips from yours, momentarily. His forehead gently resting against yours as he dragged his tip against your slick folds, letting out a low hiss.

“Loud enough that they’re gonna think I’m getting murdered, cowboy.”

“Mmm. That’s exactly what I fuckin like to hear. You ready baby? I got you, you got me.”

Joel always knew how to get your heart skipping a beat, and the butterflies in your stomach flapping. Even when you were fucking.

“I got you, you got me.” You let out a soft sigh when he slowly pressed into you, you loved the way he filled you up to the brim, each time. He stretched you deliciously. Nothing about Joel Miller was small, and you fucking loved it.

“Fuckin’ hell. So tight for me. So fuckin tight. Goddamn. Don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to being buried inside this pretty pussy. Grippin’ me so well. So good for me baby.” Joel praised you as he sank into your warmth.

His pubic bone was nudging yours. That’s how deep he was enveloped inside you.

Just where he always wanted to be.

“S’okay? Feelin’ good honey?’ He pressed a kiss to your jaw, nipping lightly at your chin as he dipped his head down.

You nodded, glancing down at where your bodies were connected while you brought your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through the back of his hair.

“S’good baby.”

He let out a breath of air as he drew his hips back before thrusting them forward, he repeated this motion a few more times, listening to the sound his hips would make when they smacked against your skin.

You brought your leg around his hip, digging the heel of your foot into his ass, pushing him in deeper as he started to pick up the pace, his jaw going slack as you clenched around him.

The headboard was smacking against the wall, the shitty mattress squeaking beneath the weight of his thrusts.

The room was thick in the stench of sex, and two lovers in the middle of it all.

Joel’s groans entwined with your moans as he rammed into you. His fingers were holding onto your hip so tightly, you surely would have bruises in the morning.

“That’s it baby doll. Takin’ me so fuckin’ good. Always so good for me baby. Fuckin’ can stay buried in you all fuckin’ night. Drunk off this pretty little pussy. Drunk off you darlin’.” His words came out jagged, in between groans as he dipped his head down to capture your lips once more.

Your tongues tied, teeth clashing, senses on overdrive.

This is where you always wanted to be.

His thrusts grew sloppy, uncoordinated as he came close to hitting his high. In the midst of his peaking orgasm, Joel was always attentive to make sure you got there before him. So it came as no surprise when he had released your hip from his harsh grip, and brought his hand down between where your bodies were connected and rubbed his thumb against your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl. So fuckin close. You gonna cum for me honey? C’mon, I’ve got you. You’re safe. C’mon baby, let go!”

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you came around him, clenching around his thick cock as your thighs quivered, and shook. He came shortly after you, his body shuttering as his orgasm rippled through him. He groaned out your name, his own personal prayer as he came undone, collapsing into your arms in a sweaty heap.

You both laughed as you came to your senses. Your fingers were gently playing with his sweaty hair, his cheek was pressed against your chest, his eyes blissfully closed. He refused to move, even as he went soft inside of you, his cum dripping down your thighs. You both felt safe here in each other's arms.

“That’s the last time you’re gonna say no to playing spin the bottle with me, right?” You whispered, your eyes closed as you rested your chin against the top of his sweat soaked head.

He hummed, bringing his arms around you, holding you close. “Mmm. Never gonna say no to you again baby. Never again.”

He was too tired to move, you were spent as well, so it came natural for him to fall asleep inside of you. Notched together, bodies entwined, right where you both always wanted to be.

[redheadspark]

Divine

Summary - Azriel and his mate find each other again during alone time

Warnings - SMUT! SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Although a bit mild, there is smut in this, no minors allowed from here on out!

A/N - This is part of the Ocean Eyes Series. A little smut piece for Azriel and the Reader to enjoy together! I hope you like it!

"I don't like how quiet it is,"

"I knew you were going to miss him as soon as we dropped him off with Cassian and Nesta,"

"I wasn't going to say anything and ruin the mood,"

Azriel barked a laugh, walking over to the fireplace to feed fresh logs into the fire, across from the loveseat where you were already sitting. Watching Azriel feed the fire and let the flame rise a bit, bringing warmth into your little home, made you relax all the more as the early evening was getting darker outside. 

Both you and Azriel had the evening to yourself, Alec having a sleepover at The House of Wind with his Uncle Cassian, Aunt Nesta, and Cousin Rose. Rose was big enough for Alec to play with her, thinking she was so fun to run around with and play with for hours on end. Cassian reassured you and Azriel that Alec would have the best time with his relatives, promising to teach him how to sword fight and do flips in the air with his wings.

The latter Azriel shot down real quick, but he was happy to let his son go for the night,

Plus, you can tell Azriel wanted to have some time with you and only you. Since you finally healed all the way through from being near close to death, you were simply trying to go back to a normal life. Though normalcy was not going to be in your life anytime soon because of recent events: Eris was still on the run with no leads as to where he was, Autumn Court's alliance with Night Court was shaky because of Eris. 

With all of this happening, you were worried about Azriel. No one told you, but you caught onto the fact that Azriel had a personal target on Eris. He was too strung out, too tight in his backside and his stance, and there was no sign of him being relaxed anytime soon. You understood why, but you also didn't wish for him to be wound tight like a tot.  Even feeling the bond and how he was not even relaxed for one moment. Stiff, a bit rigid, and you hoped you could find a way to get him to relax and unwind. 

Maybe it was perfect timing that you two were alone at your home.

Azriel stood back up, looking at his handiwork in the fireplace and the roaring fire that was now active. You stayed in your spot on the loveseat, your head slightly cocked to the side as you were looking at your mate with adoration and love in your eyes. For the last week and a few days, Azriel nursed you back to health and made sure all of your needs were met. Applying the ointment to your wound, delivering your food to the bed you were resting in, traveling back and forth between the River House and your cottage to get you books and some of your cross stitching when he noticed you were getting bored. Mor joked that he was becoming more of a wet nurse than a Spymaster. Azriel never cared, he was more focused on helping you get back to health and making sure you were 100% better. 

With a nasty sliver of a scare along your wing, you finally were able to leave River House behind and head home. But even when you did make it home and were given permission to be mobile, thanks to Madja, Azriel still was on edge. Rightfully so, you couldn't tell him to calm down because the threat that almost killed you was still out there somewhere in Prythian.  You weren't simply wanting Azriel to go back to the leisurely being he was before, but you wanted that light back in him.

"You're quite good at that, my love," You teased, seeing that smile on his face and the reflection of the fire dancing along his cheeks and nose. He looked back at you, his silhouette against the orange tint of the fire would look daunting to others. But not to you, not when he was walking back over to you and lowered himself on the loveseat to be shoulder to shoulder with you. His wings touched yours, making him look over at your wigs that were tucked against your backside.  Reachingup, he grazed his finger along the scar that was still fresh. You shivered from the touch, your wing was a pinch more sensitive thanks to the scar.

"It's healing well," Azriel stated, his voice calm as he was looking at the wing with intrigue. You weren't paying attention to your wing and its sensitivity, you were focusing on your mate. Watching his hazel eyes dancing along your wing, the smoothness of his cheeks after a recent shave, even the soft smile he had made you feel at peace. 

"Thanks to Madja, and you," You replied, Azriel's fingers that were hovering over your scars moved away from your wing swiftly. He moved his hand over to rest in his lap, though you were faster, and took his hand in yours to cradle it. Azrielwatched, you simply lacing the fingers together and smiling at him. Maybe it moved him a bit, seeing how relaxed and calm you were with him since you both were alone. You had plenty of things to say to him but had no idea where to start. Azriel must have sensed your quietness, he looked at you in concern as he squeezed your fingers together.

"Sweetheart?" He asked tentatively, he was searching your face as you were looking down at your joined hands. You are overwhelmed in that moment, being able to be back home at your home, healthy, and able to share this moment with your husband and mate. It made you want to cry, but something was holding you back from bringing on tears. Azriel reached over with his spare hand, placing a finger under your chin to gently raise your gaze to him. All you could do was smile, Azriel was about to say something else when you finally spoke.

"I'm happy," You explained to him as he was searching your eyes. You might have sounded odd to say that since you were on the verge of crying, but Azriel said nothing and simply watched you as you kept talking, "I'm happy that I'm here, and I have you to thank,"

Your voice sounded broken, yet you were smiling as if nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong, you were in good health and you had your family with you. Maybe you were thinking back to that moment when you woke up in River House, in insane pain, and Azriel perched over you like a guardian angel of sorts. 

Even with the pain, the near close to death, seeing Azriel gaze at you with so much devotion and love in his eyes was enough to bring you back again. You thought for a split second in the bed that you were in a dream, or that you died and were now in some kind of afterlife with Azriel waiting for you. 

But he did more than that, he brought you back to reality. 

Azriel gently grazed your cheek with a singular finger, catching the one tear that was about to spill over, and smiled lovingly at you, "You never have to thank me for loving you with all of me,"

He made it seem so light, so simple, even freeing. He rarely expressed his feelings to others, even with you though you two have been together for centuries. It was the very simple moments that were sprinkled with love and gentleness, youloved those moments since they showed an intimate side of Azriel that he rarely brought into light. 

"There was nothing in all of Prythian that would stop me from having you in my life, sweetheart," He explained, thefinger that traced your cheek was now curling around your jaw, his palm against your jawline and the touch alone was a shocking sensation to you as he searched your eyes with his soft smile and his bright eyes, "I've told you this before and I mean it when I say it: You make my life so much better. I can't picture going on in this life without you in it,"

It moved you to hear that from him, even though you've heard it say many times from him during your long span of a relationship and courtship. Even back when you two met so long ago as teenagers, fresh in your adoration and love for one another, Azriel poured out his love for you and was willing to give you his heart. He did, to which you took it delicately in your own hands and swore to never break.

You haven't broken it yet, hundreds of years and a son later.

You leaned up and kissed him, starting it soft and sweet as he leaned into your touch. His fingers still against your jawwere delicate for you to feel while he kissed you back and snuggled a bit closer to him.  Something about kissing Azriel in that moment, alone in your small living room away from the rest of the world, made you feel a like of fire in your belly.You knew this feeling, you've felt it so many times before in the throws of intimacy and passion. 

But this time, it felt so slow and like a crawling passion.  Nothing rushed the pair of you as the kisses continued, your fingers both digging into his hair and the soft shirt that he decided to wear that night. His own hands and fingers were moving as well, the hand along your jaw was still gentle but was holding you in a possessive manner.  His other hand was slowly inching up along your arm, sending you shivers and chills that you felt all along your skin and even under it as well.

It felt like you were young again, young and pent up with these losing feelings for one another as the kisses were slowly evolving and growing. Azriel never strayed in his affection towards you, his body curled over to you while you two were getting impossibly close and still kissing one another. Now it was passionate, that fire in your belly was only growing stronger as you felt Azriel trace your lower lip with his tongue.  Barely a graze along your lip with the very tip of his tongue.

You whimpered, moving without realizing it and you were now straddling him.

Something inside the both of you clicked open, like a tight chest that was locked down for so long and now finally free. Azriel tilts his head up to kiss you soundly and wrap his arms around you softly. Your fingers were in his hair, tugging at him slightly as your head tilted to the side to feel him kiss you deeply. Nothing else was in your mind as Azriel was touching you, kissing you, making you feel so whole and alive again. Even after being with him for centuries and with a very healthy sex life, this time it felt different. It felt deep, It felt complete.

It felt alive. 

His fingers were now under your shirt, pushing up your shirt to be under your armpits to give you a chill along your soft stomach and backside.  You huffed, throwing it off within a second and diving back to kiss Azriel and framing his face in your hands. He smiled against your lips, you feeling his skin skim along your stomach and hips while your fingers were not moving down to the collar of his shirt to give it a gentle tug. Azriel laughed against your mouth as you tugged it again.

"Impatient little thing, are you?" He teased against your lips, though you silenced him with one massive kiss, your own tongue then licking into his mouth. He groaned, you having a small smirk as you were needing to lean back but Azriel was chasing after your lips. But you placed space between yourself and him, a hand on his chest and seeing his dilated eyes watching you like you were prey to him, His chest heaving, his lips plump and dark, and the flushness in his cheeks. He might have looked like a wreck to anyone else.

But to you, he was angelic.

"Who's impatient now?" You challenged back to him.  He grinned, a predatory-like grin etched on his gorgeous face as he then grabbed the collar of his own shirt and yanked it off. You watched as it fell to the ground, Azriel seeing it too as he broke out into a laugh.

"Thank The Cauldron these shirts are Illyrian friendly," He said in a snort, you giggling as well as you saw your shirt crumbled next to his.  Having this small moment to laugh, even when you both were shirtless and in a compromising position, was a sweet reminder of how you two were so in love with one another. The centuries of having one another,and learning from one another, all lead to a fulfilling life. Nothing felt bland or out of place, you still had those butterflies in your chest when you had these moments with him. 

You both took in a breath together, looking at one another with big grins on your faces as Azriel finally dived back in to kiss you. The heat was still there, no throes of passion but still active enough to have Azriel place his hands along your backside to touch your bra and the latches behind it. You were feeling so good all over, the heat was getting bigger in your stomach as you nodded against his lips.

"Please," You said along his lips, Azriel groaning in approval as his fingers were skillfully taking off the bra straps and letting your bra slip to the ground. His hands immediately moved, cupped your breasts as you moaned against his lips and curled into him more. The feel of his calloused palms against your soft skin, you feeling your nipples hardening immediately from his touch, it was a weakness for you that your mate knew far too well.

You could even feel your core reacting to this, shockwaves under your skin were felt like Azriel moved his lips along your lips and then to your jawline and then your neck. You clung onto him with one hand, your other moving down to undo the buttons of his pants. 

"Let's go to our bed…" You felt Azriel hum against your neck, making you shiver from his lips along your sensitive skin. But you shook your head rapidly, not wishing to lose this momentum or this drive that was building.  You popped the one button open skillfully with your fingers, and the sound alone was heard by both of you.

"No," you said hotly, feeling him lean back and look up at you while his hands were still cupping your breasts delicately. You saw that fire in his eyes alone just in the way he was watching you with desire etched all over his face. You took in a long inhale, almost feeling powerful to have the Spymaster himself bend to your will.

So you leaned down, nuzzling his nose against your own and looking at him directly in the eyes.

"I want you, here and now, on this couch," You instructed him.

You've never seen him cave so fast and so willingly.

You both moved elegantly, knowing this dance far too well as you both helped strip each other's clothes off while remaining close to one another. Like magnets, unwilling to be too far apart as you both were now bare and holding onto each other.  In this little home that was your safe space, a space you two built up and kept strong for years on end, your love was blossoming all over again. Feeling his lips descending to your breast, kissing one breast with delicacy and yet with fire while his other hand took care of the other breast with ease. You were too far gone in the lust and sensations of his mouth and hands on you to notice Azriel's own shadows licking along your skin, making the lust come out all the more. You had to give him credit, he knew how to use all his tools to his advantage. 

Moans and sounds of passion filled your little home as Azriel sunk into you, you both holding onto each other so closely as he finally sunk into you.  It always took your breath away, how he both stretched you to your limit and yet made it feel so perfect and so right. So many times in the past you thought how perfect he felt inside of you, snug against your walls and hitting the right spots within you that made you see and feel stars. You felt it again that moment, his cock fitting you so perfectly that you felt like you two were made for one another. It made you speechless for a moment, frozen in his lap as he was watching your reaction. No matter that you couldn't find the words or put together a sentence, you were feeling everything and everywhere. 

You had no idea what Azriel was thinking at that moment, watching up be speechless as he was buried deep inside of you. He was feeling that sensation as well, pure lust and euphoria rolled into one. Nothing else could feel this amazing, this close to heaven or any kind of heaven, and it all came from you.  Your shining eyes, your tender heart, and yourwillingness to love him for all he was and for all his flaws. But the physical love he felt for you heightened all the more.

But seeing you bare, eyes lusted over in bliss and love with your head tilted back and looking up at the ceiling, chest heaving, and your hair cascading down your back, Azriel was in love all over again.

"Mother Above," He said in a breath, almost sounding winded himself from the sight of you. If he were to die in that moment, he would die a happy being and have no shame in it. You opened your eyes, hearing him and looking at you with your breath barely on your lips. He smiled the rare smile that made you think he hung the moon. He uttered one word, a word that he would use to always describe you and his love for you:

"Divine"

From that moment on, you both moved so softly and carefully yet filled with passion and possession simultaneously. Youwere inwardly thankful that your home was tucked away from anyone else, giving you all the privacy to fully enjoy this moment with your mate as he rolled his hips deeply and almost in a feral manner. You were letting him, having the experience know that this wasn't going to be anything typical. Your sex life with Azriel was never typical: it was always driven to ecstasy. Somehow, this time seemed deeper.  Being on the couch in front of a roaring fire, the sounds of bothyourself and Azriel enjoying one another as you rode him carefully with his arms around you, it all felt like an out-of-body experience.

As you were getting close and closer to your peak, you were closing your eyes and leaning against Azriel as you were feeling every sensation: his cock hitting your sweet spot inside of you with every roll of his hips, his hands roaming along your sweaty skin, his lips brushing along your neck. Even hearing him moan and grunt, the pure love and lust he was feeling too while he pleasing you, was making you get closer to the edge as well.  You both were feeding off each other, a tactic you both have done for years and years.

I love you, Cauldron I love you so much. I can feel you….mph….everywhere! You hear in your mind through the bond,that his voice was sounding raw and emotional as you were moving hotly in his ear. You felt wrecked, emotionally and lustfully as you were attempting to connect words to make a thought or two. But he was fucking you so good, drilling into you to the point that you were losing your breath once or twice. 

Right there Az….fuck…right there! Please…please fill me up. You moaned through the bond to him, the rational side was slipping away and something else was taking over. Something that you could only show to your mate when you were in the throws of pleasure. Perhaps you weren't thinking about it too much, but Azriel let out a gutted moan. Something you never heard in a long time, such a long time. It made you open your eyes briefly, looking down at your mate and seeing the wrecked look on his face.  So disheveled, and yet beyond gorgeous to you as he kept rolling his hips over and over to not stop the momentum. 

You knew then that a new side of Azriel took over. 

Say that again! He pleaded in the bond, his eyes slammed shut as you heard his pleading tone in your mind. You were confused at first, not knowing what he was talking about while you were petting his hair and still staying so close to him. He said nothing at first, just grunting with every thrust he was giving, but you were moving your fingers then from your face over to the top of his wings, being dangerously close to running your fingers along the membrane to throw him off.

Say what, baby? You asked him, almost sounding a bit smug about it while you tried to hold back from touching his wing. Just seeing his face alone was enough to make you want to crumble and fall to pieces, your pleasure getting at an all-time high and about to tumble over. But you still had the one last piece of resistance, of control, to hold back until you knew Azriel was going to tumble over with you. 

To…oh fuck….to fill….fill you up. He confessed, having you smile widely in pleasure flowing through you so quickly to take over your entire body. Hearing that from your mate, from a Shadowsinger and feared Illyrian throughout all of Prythian and even beyond, stunned you.  He was putty in your hands, and the way he was shaking and whimpering against your skin, you knew he was close. Beyond close, and all he needed was a push.

With a brush of your fingers along his wing, you whispered against his ear, "Make me fucking full,"

He roared, orgasming and emptying himself into you in such a force that it made you cry out and orgasm as well.

The orgasm alone was enough to make your head swim and your skin crawl in the best way possible. The pleasure alone, mixed in with the lust and love that you had for one another was now filling the room as your body was riding through each moment that felt like a lifetime. Azriel clung onto you as he was shaking, still riding his own high as you felt like you were going through it in slow motion.  From the top of your head to the tip of your toes, it was all there. You felt out of your body for a split second, floating in the air right above your home and embracing the air.

You were floating back down to the ground again, back onto that couch where you felt boneless in the arms of your mate, who was still shaking himself and feeling just as exhausted as you were. Both of your shared labored breaths, you blinking slowly as the white-hot pleasure that once soared through you was now a Luke warm, a soothing warm. Azriel'sscarred but beautiful fingers were dancing along your bare back, his face dug into your neck and sounding breathless and exhausted. Yet you felt a smile along your skin, you grinning as your face was against his head.

"That's….that's a first," You commented in a gasp. Azriel laughed, sounding so light after giving you an earth-shattering orgasm, "Never took you to like something like that, sweetheart,"

"You bring out the side of me that I never knew I had," Azriel confessed, having you giggle in a shy manner as you finally pulled back a bit to look at a blissed-out Azriel. You loved this look, the look of bliss and pure happiness that could only come from something like this. You were feeling it too, the sense of being the only two beings in the world and everything else ceasing to exist. And having Azriel cradle you close in his embrace, almost shielding you from the outside world and keeping this small bubble of bliss intact.

"You know, the last time we were in a position like this….I got pregnant with Alec," You explained to him as you reached down and ruffled his sweaty hair. He lit up a bit from the memory, you thinking about it too that fateful night when you two were in the deep throws of pleasure together in your bed. It was in the same manner too, you being in his lap and cock buried so deep side of it that you felt every moment and the insane pleasure that he experienced. That memory alone was vibrant in your mind, Azriel leaning up and perhaps reading your mind through the bond, you feeling his flicker of joy over and over as he spoke up again.

"Are you suggesting that we have had a repeat of that fateful night?" He asked, almost in a tease as he saw you blush. Youwere about to hide your face from him, moving your eyes away from him. However, he was faster in catching your jaw with his fingers and making sure you were facing him again. You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he kissed you sweetly. This kind of intimacy, this kind of love, it was something others around dream to at least experience once. Youhad it for centuries, years of building it up together and making it as strong as it was. 

As Azriel pulled away from your lips, he still kept his smile and his loving gaze on you as he searched your eyes.

"If we did, then I am all the more happy for It," You whispered, your heart beating out of your chest. You were thinking in the back of your mind that maybe down the road, sooner or later, another little one would be in your family. It was never a topic you or Azriel spoke about, but then again it wasn't closed either. Life with Alec was beyond a blessing, unlocking a part of your heart and soul you never thought you would have in this lifetime. A child that was the perfect mix of you and your mate, was all you've ever wanted and more.  And thinking of another child, another perfect child that you and Azriel would guide in the world.

It was so tempting.

"I think a shower is in order," Azriel hummed, carefully slipping out of you and you shifting a bit uncomfortably. But he moved swiftly, he picked you up bridal style, you laughing as your arms were around his neck and he stood up. You both were naked and yet ecstatic, Azriel carrying you over to the bathroom that was attached to the bedroom as you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

The flickering dream of perhaps another child in your family was still in the back of your mind. 

The End.

Tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle @acourtofbatboydreams @prettylittlewrites @fxckmiup @alwayshave-faith

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Online Meeting 🖥 pt.3

Alexia Putellas x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

pt.1; pt.2

summary :

While running errands, you’re recognized in public as Alexia girlfriend by some sweet fans. However, things take a turn when a creepy man begins harassing you, making inappropriate comments. Feeling unsafe, you call Alexia for help.

It had been a few weeks since the paparazzi photos of you and Alexia kissing in the park were released. Life had changed more than you’d expected. While most fans were sweet and excited about the two of you being together, there was now a subtle shift in how people reacted when they saw you in public. Alexia had warned you that being recognized might become part of your life, but it didn’t really sink in until today.

You were running errands on your own—a quick trip to the grocery store in the middle of the afternoon. As you made your way down one of the aisles, searching for pasta, a group of young women spotted you. At first, you didn’t notice their lingering glances, but then one of them cautiously approached, a huge smile on her face.

“Hi! Sorry to bother you, but… aren’t you Alexia’s girlfriend?”

Surprised, you blinked before nodding slowly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The girls’ excitement was immediate. “Oh my God, I knew it! Can we take a picture with you? We love Alexia so much, and we’ve been following all the news about you two.”

You smiled at their enthusiasm, feeling a little overwhelmed but touched by their kindness. “Of course,” you said, trying to sound as relaxed as possible.

After snapping a couple of selfies with them, they thanked you profusely and headed off, still buzzing with excitement. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like you’d managed the situation well enough. But as you turned to continue shopping, another voice called out from behind you.

“Hey! You’re Alexia’s girl, right?”

This time, it wasn’t a friendly tone. The voice was low, almost mocking. You glanced over your shoulder to see a man standing there, his posture too casual, his eyes scanning you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Uh… yeah,” you said cautiously, keeping your distance.

“Damn, I didn’t think she’d be into someone like you,” he said with a sleazy grin. “You must be real lucky, huh?”

You tried to ignore him, your heart beating faster as you moved to the next aisle. But he followed, his voice growing louder and more invasive.

“Come on, don’t be shy. What’s she like, huh? Is she as good in bed as she is on the field?”

Your stomach twisted, a mix of fear and disgust rising inside you. The store wasn’t as crowded as you would’ve liked, and it seemed like no one else was noticing the man’s behavior. You quickly pulled out your phone, your hands trembling slightly as you dialed Alexia’s number.

She picked up on the second ring. “Cariño? Everything okay?”

“Alexia,” you whispered, trying to keep calm. “There’s a guy here… he’s following me, saying disgusting things. I—I’m at the grocery store near our place.”

You heard the sudden shift in Alexia’s voice, her tone going from casual to protective in an instant. “Stay right where you are. I’m coming, okay?”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling a bit more secure just hearing her voice. But the man wasn’t done. He stepped closer, now invading your personal space, and you could feel the panic rising in your chest.

“You ignoring me now? Come on, don’t be such a prude.”

Just as you were about to tell him to back off, Alexia arrived. She must have sprinted from the car, her face flushed with anger as she stormed into the aisle. Without hesitation, she stepped between you and the man, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Back off,” Alexia growled, her voice low and dangerous.

The man blinked, clearly surprised to see her in person. “Whoa, relax, I was just talking to her.”

“No, you were harassing her,” Alexia shot back, squaring her shoulders. “Leave. Now.”

He smirked, trying to act like the tough guy. “What, you think just ‘cause you’re some football star you can boss me around?”

Without missing a beat, Alexia took a step forward, getting in his face. “I don’t care who you are. You don’t talk to her like that. If you don’t walk away, I’ll make sure security does it for you.”

A crowd had started to gather, and someone had already pulled out their phone, recording the entire exchange. The man, now realizing he was outnumbered, took one last look at Alexia and then scoffed before backing away, muttering under his breath.

Alexia didn’t move until he was completely out of sight. Then, she turned to you, her expression immediately softening as she cupped your face gently.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes scanning you for any sign of distress.

You nodded, still shaken but grateful. “I am now, thanks to you.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, kissing the top of your head as she held you close. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m so sorry.”

The crowd around you began murmuring, some people still filming, others whispering about what had just happened. You could hear a few of them praising Alexia for stepping in.

By the time you made it home, you thought that would be the end of it, but later that night, you received a message from one of your friends. Attached was a viral video clip of the incident in the grocery store. The video showed Alexia confronting the man, standing up for you without hesitation. The comments underneath were a mix of support and awe.

*Alexia is a queen. Look at her protecting her girl!*

*We love a protective girlfriend. She handled that perfectly.*

*Respect to Alexia for not letting that creep get away with it.*

The video was being shared everywhere. People were calling Alexia a hero, praising her for defending you in such a public way. While part of you was still unsettled by the whole ordeal, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for how fiercely Alexia had protected you.

Sitting beside her on the couch, you glanced at the video, then up at her. She noticed you watching and smiled softly, pulling you into her arms again.

“No one messes with you,” she said quietly, her voice full of quiet determination.

You smiled, resting your head against her chest. “I know. And I love you for it.”

She kissed your forehead gently, her grip around you tightening as the world outside faded away, leaving only the comfort of her warmth and the knowledge that, no matter what, she’d always be there to protect you.

[barcaatthemoon]

pacifier || katie mccabe x reader ||

You get upset during a post-game press conference and Katie isn't immediately there to calm you down.

Katie didn't know why, but she had a bad feeling about today. A quick game against Chelsea was really no big deal. Yes, they were rivals to Arsenal, but a derby wasn't out of the ordinary. They were some of your favorite games, all of the tension leading to absoutely amazing games of football. You were excited about today, and that was why Katie hated how nervous she was.

"Hey you," you greeted as you slid into the spot next to Katie on the bus. You had driven in on your own today, Jonas having arranged a pre-game interview. News of your split with Lioness, Niamh Charles was still circulating, despite being nearly a year old. You and Katie were openly in a relationship, even if quite a few of the fans still held strong to their own little ships and shipping wars.

"How was the interview?" Katie asked. You shot her an annoyed look, which Katie should have taken as the first crack in your happy facade. It was hard to tell whenever you were truly angry, but years of friendship had clued Katie in. The two of you had grown up together, and while Katie was outwardly angry, you were a secret hothead to the likes which left Katie in awe.

"Just a bunch of bullshit about going face to face with Niamh, and now Lucy. If they really wanted to get interesting, why don't they bring up that time I danced with Sam Kerr in Jersey? They really must be desperate for news content," you ranted. Katie covered your hand with hers and gave it a little squeeze. The contact was welcomed, and you leaned in to give Katie a kiss. "Sorry for ranting. How was your morning? Did you get something to eat?"

"I could have done with a few more good morning kisses, but it was fine. Someone very sweet left me a bowl of porridge to be heated up, and I love her very much for it." Katie leaned down and pressed a few kisses to the back of your hand. You smiled as you turned to cup her face with your hand. Katie kissed your palm and continued to trail kisses up your arm until she met your lips.

"Gross, get a room!" Kyra gagged. You rolled your eyes and gave her the bird before turning to kiss Katie. This time, you were being over the top, only stopping when she pulled away with a heavy blush on her cheeks.

"Keep on with that and I won't be able to focus for the game," Katie whined. You let out a laugh before turning around to talk get an update on Myle with Beth.

…

Chelsea's defense was on another level, but that was what you expected. You didn't doubt any of their backline for a moment. You knew that this would be a tough game, but you hadn't expected it to feel so personal. Everybody could see your frustration building up, so your teammates gave you space. It killed Katie a little, but she kept her distance from you at the final whistle.

"(Y/n), you're up for the post-game interview," Jonas told you. You didn't even bother trying to dry your hair or put on real shoes as you followed Leah. You and the blonde were chatting a little amongst yourselves until you noticed two Chelsea players sitting at the table with you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you huffed. Leah glanced at your name plate in the middle, between her and Niamh. Niamh seemed to notice this as well and refused to make eye contact with you as you took your seat. You tuned out most of the questions or gave generic answers until the last of your questions.

"It was very obvious that as well as Arsenal played, the unresolved tension between you and your exes came into play for some of your shots (Y/n). What steps are you taking to prevent that from costing you a good season?"

Katie swore that time slowed down as you attempted to lunge forward out of your seat. Luckily, Leah and Niamh managed to get a hold on you before you could go too far. Katie dropped her phone down onto the bench as she shot off to intercept you from Leah, who was pulling you out of the press conference. You'd be in a world of trouble, but Katie knew how little you cared in the moment.

"Hey, come on, don't do this here. It was just a stupid question, don't ruin your career because of one question. You played a really good game today, they've got an unreal defense," Leah said. It was obvious to Katie that she was struggling, and Niamh standing there staring at you sadly definitely didn't help. "Hey, look it's Katie."

"Can you give us a minute?" Katie asked as she pulled you into a tight hug. Leah went back with Niamh to Lucy, who was distracting everyone with an old story from your early WSL days. "I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault. They set me up, this whole fucking thing was a set up. The pre-game questions, putting me so far forward in formation, and now this. It's like they just wanted to provoke me." You were close to tears, and it broke Katie's heart to see you like this. She peppered your face in kisses as you melted into her embrace.

"I hate that they've done this to you, but I need you to calm down. Let everybody else be mad for you because the last thing I want is for you to get in trouble. If you keep on like this, you'll get in trouble. Trust me, none of us want this for you. Not me, not Leah, not Niamh, not Lucy, none of us. They want drama, so just stay calm and let it be," Katie said. You took her words in and tried your best to apply them. It wasn't easy to calm down so quickly, but having Katie close to you helped.

"Can we just go to the bus?" you asked her. Katie nodded as she led you back to the locker room. Most of the girls in there steered clear of you, only ever having seen you get so heated a couple of times before. Tensions weren't completely settled as you got back home, but Katie was quick to bring you inside and help you in whatever ways you'd let her.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Change: Beau

Summary: Beau's having a normal Saturday night when he catches a strange scent in the wind...

The Change

Pairing: Alpha!Beau Arlen x omega!reader

Word Count: 8,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, minor violence/injuries, fluff, implied smut

A/N: Y'all wanted more of The Change and I thought what better way to fill in some of the gaps than by taking a peak through Beau's perspective! While not 100% necessary to read The Change to understand this story, it's highly recommended!

_________

Saturday Night

“Dad, are you okay?” I turned my head towards Em, forcing a smile. She raised an eyebrow from her chair nearby the fire pit, a blanket over her lap. “You look worried.”

“It’s fine.” Shit. I bit my tongue but she was giving me that look again. That “we need to communicate openly, remember what the counselor said, dad?” look. I slumped down in my chair, trying to ignore the strong whiff of omega floating through the breeze. 

I could smell Em by my side. All sugar cookies, lavender, fresh linen, with that oh so subtle hint of fresh rain that was baked into the Arlen pack. Scenting had it’s limits though. It only worked maybe twenty feet or so away. 

So why the hell did I smell an Omega with rain in her scent but nothing else? We had some land to ourselves, a good ten acres, on the edge of the neighborhood. There was no feasible way I could be smelling an omega all the way up here.

“Dad!” Emily barked. I shot upright, looking around for any sign of danger. “What’s wrong with you? You smell…weird.”

“Weird?” I lifted my jacket collar and sniffed, something certainly off about it. She shrugged.

“You smell, like you did when you found me at the mine,” she said quietly. “You know, way on red alert. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure…” I said, standing slowly. I was prepared to make up an excuse but Emily was watching with those big doe brown eyes and it made my heart clench. Communication. Right. “I uh, smell an omega which is weird when it’s only the two of us out here.”

Em smirked, a frown crawling onto my face. “Well there is one reason Alphas can smell an omega that’s far away when they aren’t in the pack. You know…soulmates.”

I blinked at her, cocking my head. “That’s not…your mom was-”

“Daddy.” I froze still, eyes locked on hers. “I mean this in the nicest way but you and mom are not soulmates. Your bond broke way before you got divorced and soulmates never get divorced. You care about each other but it’s not that soulmate love.”

“I thought you wanted me and your mother back together for the longest time,” I said quietly, slowly sitting. Emily slumped down, fisting her blanket. 

“Me too. But you’re happier here than I think I ever saw you with mom. What’d you tell me? Don’t settle for convenient and easy?” I smiled, reaching over to mess up her hair, earning a groan that made my heart happy. 

“Sometimes I forget my sassy child is full of wisdom,” I said.

“Going to traumatic murder camp and getting kidnapped will do that to you,” she said with a cheeky grin. I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I ruffled it one more time. She’d been pretty shook up after everything last year and Carla didn’t love Em’s dark humor but the counselor said it was a healthy way for her to cope and shit, I wasn’t about to stop her.

These days, it was hard to tell anything even happened to her besides the occasional nightmare.

“I’m going to run out real quick and pick up some ice cream. Flavors?” I asked. She rolled her eyes. “What?”

“Go find this little omega of yours. I can handle being alone,” she said. I stared at her, Em rolling her eyes. “Fine. You can have a sheriff come over.”

“Thank you,” I said, kissing her temple. “Put the fire out for me please when you’re done. I’ll be back soon.”

“Have fun finding your soulmate!” she teased, not noticing the way my heart jumped up to my throat at her words.

Twenty minutes later I was walking around town, following the growing scent of rain when something else mixed in. Something sharp, painful.

Danger. Omega in danger. Your Omega is in danger.

I took off in a sprint down the sidewalk, following the scent and turning the corner to a dark parking lot next to a pharmacy.

“Get off!” someone muffled a shout under a large hand, that someone being my goddamn omega, my soulmate, my everything. 

I drew my weapon and fired a shot in the air without thinking, nearly pulling the trigger on the two scumbags pinning her down.

Calm down. She needs you more than you want to hurt them. 

I reluctantly took a breath, listening to the inner voice in my head. “On your bellies. Hands on your head or the next one goes through your spine.”

The two assholes rolled off of her and I quickly glanced at the omega. Her cheek was scuffed up and she looked sacred but damn, she knocked the breath out of me.

Hairs prickled the back of my neck as I inhaled her scent. 

Fuuuuuuck. She smelled like fresh rain, she had that Arlen pack scent. My vision swam for the briefest of moments as my heart thudded happily at finding it’s soulmate. Alright, I could be a pile of mush later. I needed backup and these guys restrained before I not so accidentally started shooting off pieces for touching her.

“Mam’, are you alright?” I asked. She nodded quickly and thankfully it looked like they hadn’t done more than knock her to the ground before I was able to step in. I pulled out my phone, shoving it between my shoulder and ear. “Dispatch, this is Arlen. I need two squad cars at the Rite-Aid pharmacy off of Main. Two suspects in custody. Attempted assault. Vic appears okay besides some minor injuries.”

“We’ll have two cars over in under two, Sheriff.”

“Thanks, Abby,” I said, staying on the line but shoving the phone in my pocket just in case. I secured one man with my cuffs but I needed something else unless I wanted to sit on top of this guy. Meanwhile, the omega was scrambling across the pavement, trying to pick up the items she’d bought into the plastic bag in her hand. She reached for a small pack of zip ties, slightly odd to pick up in the middle of the night but I’d hold off on my judgment.

“Mind if I borrow that?” She let me take the package and remove a tie, securing the second man, albeit he could get out if he really tried. “Thank you mam.”

She was clearly petrified and putting on a brave face. She shoved a bottle of pills in her bag as I asked her once again if she was alright.

“Never better!” She said in an abnormally high pitched voice. She popped to her feet before I could help her up, a slow sigh escaping me. “Uh, thanks.”

Be a calming presence for her.

But then she was trying to leave down the dark parking lot again and I grabbed her arm on instinct. Didn’t she realize the safest place for her was by my side? “Whoa, whoa. These guys can’t do anything to you. Backup will be here in two minutes tops. I know you want to get home but we need a statement and you should get that scuff cleaned up by a paramedic. Hell, I can do it for you back at the station.”

She just kept staring at me and alarm bells were going off in my head. Did she have a concussion? Did she hit the back of her head? Okay, she needed to be seen by a doctor right now. “Alright. I think you hit your head a little harder than we both realized when they knocked you down. Why don’t you take a seat-”

I was not expecting my dream girl to proceed to knee me in the dick so hard my life flashed before my eyes. I heard a sorry squeak out as she took off and I lay on the ground, trying to get my bearings.

“Nice one, sheriff,” snided one of the men in custody. I grunted, kicking him in shoulder as I sat up. “Fucker, you can’t do that!”

“If it were up to me, I’d beat the shit out of you, drop you off a cliff and let the animals eat you alive.” I rolled to my knees and got up as a squad car showed up, an officer running out.

“You alright, boss?” I waved him off. 

“Read these two their rights. I’m going after the victim,” I said, jogging past him and down the street, catching tail lights in the distance. I made it to my truck and was on the road just as she turned left about a mile away. I cursed as I lost sight but then I rolled down my window, taking a deep breath.

Her scent was subtle but I followed it down a dirt road and up a barely there path through the trees to a rundown looking cabin. There was a light on inside and I jogged up to the door when her scent was stronger. “Miss? It’s Sheriff Beau Arlen. We met just a short time ago. I’m doing a wellness check. Please answer the door.”

The omega ripped open the door, the fear from before replaced with etches of worry. 

“Hi. My dad fell earlier today. I think he broke his leg. He’s in the bathroom.” Oh, this poor thing. I nodded, giving her a smile. 

“Okay. We can call an ambulance and-”

“He’s terrified of public places. Of catching the…sickness.” Sickness? What the hell was she talking about? “I know he needs a hospital but is there any way we can limit the number of people he’s around? Like a doctors office or something?”

I breathed deeply, picking up on her father’s bland scent indicating he was Beta. But in her own home this Omega should have smelled like something more than fresh rain. Anything at all. 

Shit, she smelled like Emily had before she fully presented. Like a blank canvas. But how the hell had this woman in her early thirties that was presented as omega not smell like one?

“How the hell…” I shook my head. She simply hadn’t had a proper heat before which in theory was possible if she hadn’t been around an Alpha during her cycle before. Strange but not completely unheard of. A groan in the background had me straightening myself. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do to accommodate his…needs.”

She thanked me and attempted to have me leave but I was already texting dispatch, telling them I was about to have a first time adult heat. God, I remember when Carla had hers. She was bent over in pain one second yelling at me for existing and trying to jump my bones the next telling me how much she needed me. Even though I was struggling through a damn rut in exhaustive pain.

That should have been my first clue that her needs would always outweigh mine.

I sighed when our argument turned heated, the poor little omega in front of me overwhelmed with fear and hormones and likely a good dose of paranoia. She collapsed as I caught her in my arms, gently laying her down to the ground.

“What the hell did you do to my daughter!” shouted her father from a room off to the side. “You infected her you-”

“Hey!” I barked, placing a pillow under her head and brushing the hair from her face. I stood and stormed over to him, wincing at the nasty piece of meat that was his leg. “You are going to tell me exactly what has been going on around here with her, with you, all of it.”

“You got her sick!” I squatted down, narrowing my eyes. He returned it, breathing hard. “You nasty smelling mutt. You bite her and I’ll kill you.”

“So you do know a thing or two about this situation,” I said with a smile. “Now. Tell me everything or this nasty mutt with a gun and a badge will start thinking you’re keeping your daughter locked away and doing some very nasty things.”

“I would never, you perverted-” I snarled, the Beta biting his tongue.

“Do not disrespect me. I am here to help her and her alone. Now she’s going into heat, uneducated and scared. Her body is going to be in pain and she doesn’t understand why all because you have lied to her for a decade. I would never be so cruel to my daughter.” He swallowed, his gaze going to behind me where she lay on the floor. “She will be fine but you need to tell me everything. Now.”

Five Hours Later

“Good evening, Dr. Y/L/N. This is sheriff Beau Arlen of the Helena police department. I apologize for the late call but we have a situation here with your father and sister,” I said from the corner of the hospital room where Y/N laid fast asleep. She’d awoken confused and more than a little…primal a few hours ago. I could only imagine what it felt like to go through your first heat with your soulmate sitting eight feet away. 

She smelled delectable, enough so I had to ask for some scent blockers for myself so I’d stop getting so damn horny around her. 

“Please call me Emmet. Are they okay? I haven’t heard from my sister in a decade so any news-”

“She’s alright Emmet. She’s currently at our local hospital being treated for her first heat. Your father broke his leg badly a few days ago and is in the ICU recovering from surgery.” Emmet swore on other line and breathed deeply.

“My father is paranoid, Sheriff. I called him on the night of the Change years ago and told him to take my kid sister out of the city for a few days until we knew what was going on. I called him five days after and told him it was okay to go back but they never did. I’ve explained to him over and over again that she is perfectly safe. I could never track him down.”

“They appear to be staying at an old cabin on the edge of town here,” I said, Emmet groaning.

“They went to grandpa’s hunting cabin? Jesus christ. I forgot that place existed. Is Y/N alright?” 

“She’s fine, Emmet. She’s a strong woman, her body just needs to catch up a little is all.” Emmet huffed.

“She was supposed to work at a big accounting firm. She got a really good job out of college and then she disappeared with him. The paranoid fucker’s probably kept her locked up there for years.” My heart skipped a beat. “Sorry. He wouldn’t hurt her. Dad’s just…always been overprotective of her. Always. Something happened when she was young and…yeah, he’s always been afraid of her getting hurt again.”

“Emmet, any information you can relay to me might help me understand your father better. I need to know if your sister has been at that cabin all these years of her own free will or not.” 

Emmet was quiet for a beat, a chair creaking as if he were sitting down in the background. “Our father was a lawyer. A prosecutor. He put away a killer…for a very dangerous and powerful family. I was in college at the time. They broke in one night and killed our mother and kidnapped Y/N. She was maybe four? I don’t think she even remembers. It took a few days to get her back and that was only because she bit one of them and ran away and out a window.” I smirked, closing my eyes.

“Always been tough as nails even when she’s afraid, huh.” 

“Yeah. Dad was different with her after that. Always blamed himself. Way too protective. She tried to appease him but she always wanted to live her own life too. The idea of her being claimed by someone-”

“He literally can’t handle it,” I finished. Emmet hummed. “Thank you for the information Emmet. I’ll speak with your sister more but I doubt we’ll press charges.”

“Mr. Arlen, I’ll be down in a few days. I need to speak to my sister, and father. I’m in Seattle these days and I think it’s best if she stays with me for the time being.” I cleared my throat, walking out of the room and to the hallway. “My father will need intensive rehab if it’s as bad as you say and then in-home care, both of which will be much easier to provide if I’m there-”

“Emmet, there’s not an easy way to say this so I’ll just spit it out. I got involved tonight because I was able to scent your sister from my backyard over eight miles away from where we met. Now, you’re a doctor. You tell me the only scenario in which that is possible.” Emmet was quiet, my heart hammering. “Dr. Y/L/N-”

“Are you a good man?” he asked. I sat down on a hall bench, glancing down.

“I’m divorced, I got ten years on her and a teenage daughter. I am by no means perfect. If she wants to go to Seattle, I will not stop her.” I crossed my arms, leaning back against the wall. “But I can promise you, she will be safe with me and free to live her life. I do not intend to hold her back.”

“I seriously doubt my sister’s going to want to leave your side once her heat calms down and she realizes who you are to her,” he said with a hum. “Sheriff.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll take my dad off your hands once he’s ready for in-home care. Let Y/N live in a town without him for a while.” 

“What’s she like?” I asked, screwing professionalism for the moment. “You said she wanted to be an accountant?”

“Pft, god no. She would have worked at a bakery if she had her choice but you know how parents can be,” said Emmet. “You said your name was Beau, right?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well Beau, considering this is likely the first of many conversations we’ll have throughout our lives, a word of advice. If she wants to work at a goddamn bakery, let her. If you guys ever need help, just tell me. I got more than enough. I just want my baby sister to be alright.” I smiled, relaxing my shoulders.

“I appreciate it Emmet but I do alright on my own. Like I said, I will not be the one holding her back from whatever it is she wants to do.” I could feel her scent pick up, twitchy, wanting me nearby. “I got to run but I appreciate the talk and I’m looking forward to meeting you. I’ll make sure she gets a chance to talk to you tomorrow.”

I hung up and slipped back in the room, pulling my chair closer, her scent calming. My phone dinged and I frowned. What the hell was Emily doing up at 2 in the morning?

How’s the soulmate search going? Pop says hi by the way. We ordered pizza. There’s leftovers in the fridge if you ever come home tonight. Please tell me you’re not stalking some woman in the middle of the night. 

“This child,” I grumbled, typing a long message before my phone pinged again, eyebrows raised.

I can talk to her. I know more about being an Omega than you do to be fair. She’s probably scared. I can dig up those Change puberty books from the basement.

Thank you, Em. We’ll talk in the morning. Now get some sleep..

I frowned, shooting off another text.

Tell Pop if he eats all my mint fudge ice cream again I’m firing him. 

Too late. Night dad!

I sighed, resting my phone on my chest and sliding down in the chair. I kicked off my boots and propped my feet up at the end of Y/N’s bed. 

“So. Not how I imagined my first night with my soulmate,” I said quietly. “How about you, darlin’? Everything you dreamed of?”

She snored lightly in bed, rolling over on her side and staying in a deep slumber. 

“Well don’t chat my ear off, I’m trying to sleep,” I chuckled. She scratched her belly absently, breathing deeply. “Goodnight, omega.”

The Next Day

Despite an albeit awkward start to the day, the smile on Y/N’s face as she and Emily shared the far side of the booth and devoured a brownie sundae was putting a big on on mine. Y/N hadn’t had much of anything besides basic foods for ten years and she was ordering every greasy, fatty, sugary thing on the menu. 

It was kind of adorable the way she guzzled down a pile of poutine on her own and then asked for seconds.

“Is Y/N coming home with us?” asked Emily a little eagerly. I lightly kicked her shin under the table, Em pouting. “That’s child abuse.”

“Child abuse is you hitting me in the nuts with a baseball bat when you were four. Pretty sure you were trying to make sure you were an only child from the start.”

“I wouldn’t mind a sibling-“ I kicked her again, Emily glaring back. Y/N looked between us with a goofy smirk, gravy at the corner of her mouth.

“You guys are really cute. I wish I’d had that with my dad,” she said, her face falling momentarily. She cleared her throat though and wiped off her lips, glancing at me. “Your dad and I have to talk about a lot of things but in the meantime he said he had an idea about where I could stay. You guys have a trailer on your property?”

“Dad used to live in an air streamer when he moved here,” said Emily, smirking at me. “If you need a love nest-“

“Do not tell her about nesting,” I growled, Emily grinning like a Cheshire cat. Y/N blinked at both of us, her head tilting. I cleared my throat when I sensed her…fuck, she was horny as fuck.

Cool it with the Alpha voice bucko.

“Nesting is um, well…” I trailed off, Emily pipping right in.

“It’s when the Alpha goes all crazy and makes you a comfy bed with pillows and blankets and stuff so you can pass a heat surrounded by their scent. And to fuck in a lot but the scent stuff too.” I dropped my head to the table, a low whine escaping. “They teach us in health class.”

“In my health class all they did was show us pictures of STI’s,” said Y/N, her fingers grazing my scalp. I raised my head, heart skipping at the feel of her touch in my hair. Her face was so soft, so unlike the fearful one of last night. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere and Emily’s bluntness is appreciated.”

Emily glanced at Y/N and then myself, making an excuse to use the restroom. Y/N’s hand dropped to the table, a pout forming on my face. She giggled though, the sound calming me. “Can you…smell me, Y/N?”

“Sure,” she said coyly, laughing when I rolled my eyes. “I think so. I don’t quite understand it but I know you’re nervous. You like when Emily teases you but there’s something a little on edge with you. I’m still trying to figure all this out to be honest.”

“It’s okay,” I said, reaching a hand up and gently taking hers in mine. My thumb stroked over the back of her skin and I held it up, closer to her. “You won’t be able to do that with most people. Only your mate can you tell certain things. We don’t exactly understand that part of it yet.”

“I imagine it gets a bit complicated when you mix advanced evolution with metaphysical souls,” she said, tilting her head, turning my hand over and stroking my palm. Her big eyes stared at my skin, nose twitching when she inhaled. “Everything in my head says I’m a moron for trusting a strange man, that you could hurt me or worse. But then I do this…”

She tugged me closer, pulling my hand to her warm cheek, her skin velvety soft. Her bond pulsed hard under the skin of her neck, so subtle no one would notice but I could see it thumping away like it had it’s own heartbeat. Y/N’s eyes searched my face, looking for an answer to a question she didn’t know how to ask.

“There are some people that don’t believe in true mates. They think it’s just hopeless romantics making shit up,” I said, pulling my hand down, grazing her bond with my fingertips. Soft lips parted, Y/N’s eyes dewy at the touch. “Touch my neck.”

She tentatively reached across the table, letting me guide her hand to the left side. “My gland is much smaller but it’s there. Now push down on it.”

Y/N didn’t look convinced but gently nudged two fingers against the skin. I jerked back just as she did, a bolt of peacefulness shooting through my body. She rubbed her own gland, breathing hard. “What the fuck was that?”

“Think of it like there’s a rope connecting our souls. We just tugged on it,” I grinned, rubbing my chest. “So we can’t get lost from each other ever again. True mates form that bond even without the physical connection being met yet which is why you could tell I was nervous.”

Y/N smiled, placing a hand over her bond. “So that’s why you don’t feel so strange. Huh.”

“We can take this as slow as we want to,” I said, taking out my phone, checking the time. Y/N shoveled one last scoop of ice cream in her mouth before sliding out of the booth. “Where-“

“Emily has school in the morning. We should head out,” she said, catching Emily returning from the bathrooms. “We’ll meet you out front?”

“Y/N.” I hopped up quickly. Shit, was I making her nervous? I opened my mouth to speak but she was right there, placing a finger to my lips.

“It’s okay, sheriff,” she murmured, grazing her knuckles over my beard. “Just need a little girl talk.”

“About what?” I asked quietly.

“About…just trust me?” I held up my hands, Y/N backing away before popping outside with Em. 

“Sheriff,” said a deep, monotone voice. I spun around, Donno standing there with a styrofoam box. “Rhubarb pie.”

“I didn’t order-“ Donno shoved it forward, my hands barely catching it. 

“She wants it.” I raised my eyebrow, glancing outside to where Y/N and Emily were leaning against the truck. “She wanted pie and this is all we have.”

“Uh, thanks Donno,” I said. He half growled and I handed him my credit card. He grumpily took it behind the counter, handing it back with a grimace. “How’s things with Tonya?” 

He grunted and I chuckled. 

“Later, Donno. You and your girl stay out of trouble.” I ducked outside with the pie, the girls giving me a smile. “Everything all set?”

“Never better.”

“Hey, Em?” I asked after showing Y/N the airstreamer when we got home. She was downstairs talking to her brother, all sorts of giddy scents coming off her. “Got a sec?”

She put her phone down, frowning when I pushed it away and set it on the charger. “First off, it’s bedtime. Second, is everything okay with you and Y/N? I know everything’s been moving fast and if you want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

“We’re fine,” she said softly, giving me that look I’d seen in therapy too many times. I pouted, Em sighing. “She was…her body did something at the diner. She said you guys touched bonds which made her…you know…down there…”

“Oh.” I sat on the edge of her bed, holding my hands on my lap. “Was she embarrassed? I shouldn’t have-“

“No, she just wanted to make sure it was normal to…get all…slick and fuck, this is as bad as the sex talk.”

“I thought we did a good job with it,” I said, ruffling her hair. “Are you okay with her being here?”

“Duh,” she said, sitting upright and giving me a hug. “She’s your soulmate, dad. Of course, I want her to stay with us.”

I tucked her head under my chin, giving her a deep squeeze. “Dad. Too tight.”

“Alright,” I said, releasing her. “I’ll make sure Y/N understands you already have a mom and-”

“We kind of talked about that when you were paying.” Em shrugged. “Y/N said she didn’t want to overstep anything and said it’s probably best right now if we’re more like friends? Until we figure out what we want.”

“I’m going to have a hard time keeping up with you two staying ahead of me,” I chuckled, hearing a loud crash downstairs. I stood up, Em pouting. “Stay. Go to bed.”

She grumbled as I left and jogged down the steps. Y/N was bent over in the kitchen, her scent stressed but not in pain. 

“Y/N?” I asked. She popped her head up, swallowing thickly as I saw she’d dropped her bottle of heat medication and the pills had gone all of the floor. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

I knelt down and started to help pick them up, Y/N moving farther away to pick up the scattered pills. I reached out and caught her wrist, Y/N’s breath hitching. She looked over her shoulder, body tense. 

“It was an accident,” I said softly. She looked down and I frowned. “Hey. I can smell you’re upset but we still need to talk. What’s going through that head? Did your brother say something?”

“No.” She shoved the pills in the bottle, waiting for me to deposit mine inside. The cap snapped on and she shot up, stepping past me for the front door. I caught up to her on the front porch, not touching her but holding up my hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her temple. “Please move. Better yet, take me back to the cabin.”

“...If that’s where you want to be,” I said. She went straight to the truck, barefoot, climbing inside. I got in after her, leaving my keys in my pocket. I could sense her agitation rising, especially when I turned towards her. “What did your brother say, Y/N?”

“He told me he contacted my dad right after the change. How dad would call him every few years. He didn’t know I thought he was dead all this time,” she breathed out. She shook her head, wrapping her arms tight around herself. “You have an idiot for a soulmate.”

“Now I don’t believe that’s true for a second. I-”

“Beau.” Y/N glared at me but her eyes were more watery than anything else. “You have a teenage daughter that knows more about how sex works in this world than I do. I’m…a child. You deserve so much better than me. I’ve never had a real job. I’ve never had my own place. Shit, my longest relationship lasted two months. J-Just throw me back in the woods so I can be alone.”

Omega in pain. Omega in pain. 

She moved as far away as possible, staring out the window as a primal urge in my head was trying to take over.

Protect her. PROTECT HER. Do your job. 

“No.” She shifted in her sheet, making her eyes as hard as she could. “I don’t care if you hate me. I will never abandon you. Ever.”

“I’m a fucking project, not a soumate,” she scoffed. 

“You think I’m perfect?” 

“Um, have you met you because yes, you are,” she grit out. I growled, her scent shooting through the roof as I leaned over and cupped her cheek. Her lips parted, breath mingling with my own. “W-What are you doing?”

“I don’t like when you’re mean to yourself,” I said, my voice lower than usual as I kept a tight control on letting my Alpha out. Y/N shivered under my touch and she looked away embarrassed. “Don’t you dare be embarrassed for making slick. You are in heat next to your true mate. I’d be concerned if you weren’t.”

“I don’t know anything,” she whispered, still not looking at me. “I don’t know how to be an adult or have my soulmate be someone way out of my league or what you want me to be to Emily. You have an ex-wife and you have such an important job and you’re single dad and it doesn’t matter how nice you smell or if you give me lightning bolts. I am and will be a burden to you.”

I sat back in my seat, breathing hard. Y/N sniffled, keeping her head low. “I know I’ve upset you, I can smell it.”

“I’m upset you’re upset. I’m not upset at you,” I said quietly. Every instinct I had said pull her into my lap, bite her neck and press the magic fix it button to flood her full of so much ooey gooey good feeling crap she’ll never remember why she had doubts in the first place.

Talk to her.

I swallowed, closing my eyes. “My partner died two years ago. He was my best friend.”

“Beau.” She unfurled her hands from her body surely because one of them was interlacing with my own. “I’m so sorry.”

“I blamed myself for a long time. For too long. For something out of my control,” I said, opening my eyes, finding her misty ones. “It drove my ex away. It drove Emily away too for a while. I’m so scared of loving someone else and losing them. Y/N, it took everything in me to not kill those men that attacked you last night. I am not fucking perfect and you are way way too hard on yourself. News flash, nobody knows how to be an adult. We’re all just pretending and a smart woman like you, hell you already are thinking of my daughter before I am. You are not behind. You are right where you’re supposed to be.“

“I…” She sighed, squeezing my hand. “I’m sorry that happened to your friend.”

“Did you get any of the rest of that?” 

“Yeah,” she said softly. “So we both need to take it easier on ourselves.”

“I got faith in us.” She wiped off her face as she nodded, her scent turning calm and gentle. “Come on. It’s been a long day and you’re at the tail end of your heat. You need to get some rest.”

“Dad!” I bottled upright in bed, groggy and reaching for my gun when Emily burst in the bedroom. “It’s almost seven. Move your ass. I’m not getting detention for being late again because of you.”

“Good morning to you too,” I mumbled, setting my gun back on the bedside table and flopping back against the pillows.

“Pro tip,” she said, whacking me with a pillow. I groaned, growling as I sat back up. “Maybe go make you and your new omega girlfriend some coffee? Not like she talked about coffee for like a solid thirty minutes with your coffee snob ass last night.”

“Someone’s got a mouth on her this morning,” I said, tossing back the covers, Em rolling her eyes as she left. “What?”

“I’m so going to be late,” she muttered, jogging downstairs. I grumbled, padding into the bathroom and getting ready for the day. Em was in a mood when I found her by the front door waiting for me but it was no big deal to me if she was late a few minutes. For one, that school started too damn early at 7:30. She had freaking study hall first period of the day which was just plain stupid. Plus that principal of hers had more than a few unpaid parking tickets I could leverage. 

I whipped up a cup of coffee and poured the rest in my thermos, tossing some half and half in the mug before whistling on my way outside. “Dad!”

“Five minutes, pumpkin. Why don’t you lock up and I’ll meet you at the truck?” I slipped outside, Em muttering again as I walked across the yard. WIth two knocks on the door of the airstream, it opened, Y/N half-asleep as she answered in last night’s clothes. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

“You’re lucky you’re hot,” she mumbled, perking up when I held out an orange mug. “Is that-”

“Coffee. Two tablespoons half & half. Hold the cream and sugar.” Her eyes welled up as she took the mug. “You really missed coffee, huh?”

“You were paying attention to what I said last night,” she whispered. I cocked my head, leaning my hip against the door jam. “Thank you for the coffee, Beau. I really appreciate it.”

“No worries.” The truck horn honked and I rolled my eyes, Y/N smirking. “I have to run before that one hotwires the car without me but I’ll be back and we can go shopping for whatever you need. Food. Clothes. Whatever you want. I’ll be back in about thirty.”

“Thanks, Alpha.” She stepped forward and pecked a kiss to my cheek, grinning when I blushed. “That’s adorable.”

“I’m from Texas. We don’t blush,” I said despite feeling the radiating heat on my face. She raised an eyebrow, her smile turning a hair darker. “Omega…”

“You know that only makes me want to find out how to make you blush more, right?” I pouted but didn’t mean it, Y/N seeing right through it. “All that for a peck on the cheek. I wonder how red I can get you when I properly kiss you.”

“Down girl,” I purred, adjusting myself and in desperate need of one of my scent blockers again. “Let’s cool our jets. Once we start playing around, it’s going to be hard for either one of us to not want to bond.”

“Sorry,” she said, not looking it one bit. She pressed the mug to her lips, eyes closing as she took her first sip. “Wow. Yeah, I’m so keeping you. This is the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”

“Well that’s a relief,” I chuckled, the horn honking incessantly in the background. “I’m sorry about the sassy child.”

“It’s fine. Take her to school. I’ll be here.”

“I’ll be right back, darlin’.”

Four Weeks Later

Y/N was tucked against my side, resting her head on my shoulder and draping her arm over my chest. Soft, slow breaths left her lips, nose buried against my pec. Oh so carefully I thumbed over the fresh bite mark on her neck. Ordinarily I’d think the best thing to do would be not touch it but instinct was telling me to gently soothe the ache away and her pain would be gone by the time the flood of hormones in her body dropped.

“How we feeling, Omega?” Y/N tightened her hold on my body, snuggling harder. 

“Fuzzy,” she mumbled, a smile on her lips. “You?”

“Fuzzy’s a good way to describe it,” I chuckled. “You did so well.”

“Not so bad yourself,” she laughed, eyes closing. “You smell even nicer now if that’s possible.”

“I know the feeling.” I stroked my fingers up and down her bare back, tracing patterns against the soft flesh. “So…would you maybe want to move into the house?”

“You really know how to pillow talk, babe,” she said against my shoulder, smirking against it. “And yes, I’m tired of being away from you guys.”

“Okie dokie.” Y/N snorted, lifting herself up onto her palms to look at me. “What?”

“You’re way too hot to be that adorable.” I shrugged, smirking as I gripped her waist and pulled her tight against my chest, earning a gasp. “Oh you want to play?”

“With you? Forever.” I grasped her chin with my thumb and finger, pulling her into a deep kiss. “Who’s ready for round two?”

Three Months Later

“Emmet!” Y/N squealed and jumped into her brothers arms the second I had the front door open. He laughed deeply, dropping his luggage on the porch to catch her.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m forty six years old. You’re going to throw out my back if you keep doing that every time I visit,” he laughed, spinning her around. “How you doing, kiddo? Keeping your Alpha in line?”

“She wishes,” I said, giving him a brief hug when he set her down. “Where’s Max?”

“She’s coming up on Saturday. Covering a double at the hospital,” said Emmet, giving Emily a hug when she popped out of the kitchen. “Em, mind helping me get the presents?”

She threw on her coat and boots, following Emmet outside as I saw Y/N’s father putter around their rental car. Emmet said something to him, the man giving Emily a brief smile before he carefully walked across the shoveled driveway.

“Darren.”

“Beau.” Y/N frowned at him, his jaw clenching when he saw the faded mark on her neck. “Emmet’s right. You really did claim her.”

Y/N stepped onto the porch, waves of powerful scent washing over us. “This is my house, dad. If you’re going to be a dick, you can go sit in a hotel room by yourself for a week while the rest of us celebrate the holidays. As a pack. Beau’s family is coming in tomorrow and you will not-“

“Down omega,” I purred, Y/N allowing me to pull her back a few steps. “She’s a tad defensive of me and Emily is all. Darlin’, why don’t you help the Em’s.”

A moment later Darren and I were alone. I nodded, walking him around the wrap around porch to the side of the house where a pair of rocking chairs sat. I took a seat in the far one, Darren hesitantly sitting in the opposite.

“Y/N and I like to sit out here in the morning and have our coffee together.” Darren grunted, lips pressed into a thin line. “How’s the leg?”

“It hurts,” he grumbled. 

“But you can walk on your own on it. Emmet says that’s a good sign.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Arlen, enough with the small talk. Say what you mean to say away from my daughter.” I leaned back, rocking a few times, enjoying the chill breeze.

“Your daughter didn’t want you to come. The only reason you are invited is because I asked her to give you another chance.” He scoffed. “You were pretty nasty when we showed up at rehab a few months ago and saw she was claimed.”

“You manipulated her into being with you. She doesn’t know it yet but you’ll turn on her. I know cops like you, especially cop mutts. Don’t blame me for seeing exactly who you are.”

“Well fuck you,” said Emily, appearing around the corner. 

Back off, pup. I got this.

Only she ignored the warning in my scent, the clear line she would have picked up in favor of storming over in front of Darren. “You’re an asshole.”

“Em-” 

“The mouth on you,” said Darren, frowning up at her. “You learn that from your father?”

“If anyone’s the manipulative asshole around here maybe it’s the guy who scared his kid into staying in a cabin for a decade,” she spit out. Darren opened his mouth, Emily holding up a hand. “My dad’s not perfect but thank god I have him. Bad stuff happened to both of us but he doesn’t keep me locked up. So maybe stop being an ass to the guy that makes Y/N happy for the first time in ten years.”

“Emily,” I said as she started to walk away. “Em!”

“Ground me but I am not apologizing,” she said, walking off back around the corner. I sighed, side eyeing Darren.

“You know what, you say and think what you want about me but don’t you dare speak ill of my daughter,” I said. “She has been through more shit than you could ever know so do not blame her for being defensive of her family which includes your daughter.” 

I stood, putting my hands on my hips, looking out over the barren yard, a light layer of snow dusting it.

“It’s not personal,” said Darren after a beat. “I’d hate any man that tried to take her away. I’ve hated all of her ex’s.”

“I know something about having a daughter that was kidnapped.” I turned over my shoulder, Darren’s face paling. “You didn’t keep her safe. You squashed her. From the moment I met your daughter, I’ve had to help her learn that she can have goals and dreams of her own. She lived her whole life trying to appease you. She will never do that with me. Never. So I understand the fear and pain of dealing with your little girl being taken and feeling like a failure as a father. But we have to let them go because our little girls are a lot stronger than us fathers give them credit for. Let them show us. The only person my kid mouths off with is me, her mother, and Y/N. Her parents. For her to do that just now means you really ticked her off. So stop protecting Y/N for one second and get to know that strong kid of yours.”

He was quiet, no words spoken between us as he rose.

“Your daughter reminds me of Y/N when she was younger.”

“Em adores Y/N…aside when Y/N goes mom mode and makes Em do her chores,” I chuckled. Darren cleared his throat. “The girls are still figuring out their roles but Y/N’s gotten more comfortable stepping into that parental role. They’re friends more than anything. Family.”

“Right,” he said quietly. “How angry is Y/N with me?”

“Oh, pretty mad,” I laughed. “She’ll forgive you eventually. Probably. I’d stop calling her mate a manipulative mutt, though. Might help out there just a tad.”

He lowered his head with a nod. “Let’s go in before you freeze.”

“Alpha,” Y/N murmured from beside me in bed late that night. I had my face shoved into the crook of her neck, arms bundled under her maroon sweatshirt, formerly our sweatshirt, formerly formerly my sweatshirt. “Noooo, get your greedy hands away from my fleece.”

“No can do, darlin’,” I murmured, arms shoved under the soft material, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to cop a feel.”

“Sure you won’t,” she teased. “We can play in a minute. Real talk right now.”

“What’s up?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist, lifting my head. Her fingers raked through my hair, massaging my scalp. I hummed, resting my chin on her shoulder. 

“I don’t know what you said to my dad earlier but thank you. He was different.”

“Well, Emily should really get the credit. She stole my thunder,” I said, Y/N’s scent swirling around the room. “Our girl really loves you, you know.”

She flushed, smiling when I kissed her jaw. “Thank you both then.”

“You’re welcome. Now,” I said, grabbing the ends of the sweatshirt, pushing them up her body. “I think you stole this.”

“Going to arrest me for it?” she murmured, pulling me into a chaste kiss before rolling to the far edge of the bed and out of my grasp. She sat up with a fake pout, batting her eyes as I crawled over. “That’s a good look for you, Alpha. On all fours for me.”

“For fucks sake, Omega,” I growled, grabbing her ankle and yanking her body underneath mine as she giggled. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something, Alpha Boy.” I laughed into her neck, kissing over her healed mark. 

“For you, Omega, anything at all.”

___________

[devilmademewriteit]

Ultraviolence

pairing: raider!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: thank god—a handsome stranger saves you from the grips of a pack of cruel, cruel men. unfortunately, said stranger, joel miller, is cut from the exact same cloth as the rest of them.

warnings: oh. boy. rough sex/smut (fem penetration, fingering, cum play if you squint) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; raider!joel; canon typical violence; mentions of hair pulling/reader having long hair; light dacryphilia; age gap; pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, girl); slapping, spanking, choking; !!!NONCON!!! (sexual violence/assault, coercion, allusions to more sexual abuse—Dead Dove, Do Not Eat y’all, protect yourselves).

word count: 4k+

no use of y/n in this fic

alright y’all!!! here is the non-con raider!joel fic!! stay tuned for the version coming out soon wherein Joel actually rescues the reader LOL join the taglist to be notified when I post it!!! y’all’s requests will quite legit be the death of me BUT this was fun to write so im not mad. this version is just purely depraved & Joel ‘Big Dick’ Miller is a mean mean man. wrote it pretty fast too so b nice 2 me.

love u all, sorry for searing your eyeballs:)

-em<3

—

The stucco prickles and tears at the flushed skin of your cheek, a reminder that it’ll be winter soon. The birds are sure of it, and most of them managed to get away before the frost stood a chance of nipping them.

You didn’t.

After a few years of non-stop struggle, losing everything but your own life, you figured there were worse ways to go. At least you would be… well—you, in the end.

In whatever shape this man and his leering group of accomplices left you in.

“Against the wall,” and his voice had been the crack of a whip, snapping by your ear as electricity shot up and down your spine, as the tingling realization that the chase was over—the jig, up—settled into your bones. “Spread your fuckin’ legs.”

There were more hounds around… waiting.

Always waiting.

They’d already gotten to your old, tattered clothes. The brisk air bites at your exposed skin, but at least the cold would account for the violent shivers wracking your limbs. Even as the beast pins you to the side of the decrepit house, forces himself between your knees, your primary preoccupation is to stifle your fear.

They’d get everything else on display—but they would never get to see that.

When the screaming starts, those confused grunts, huffs, and squelches of a blade carving into flesh, you mostly commend your own imagination:

“I did it. I’m in my happy place. This will be quick, then.”

But then a rough, unfamiliar hand grabs hold of your naked waist, flipping you around, slamming your spine against the frosty stucco.

This is real.

And you bear witness to his carnage.

He painted the side of the house into a mosaic of inter-mingling blood, splattered like a Pollock against the grass, the wrinkled clothes and the rugged face of your salvation.

His eyes rake over your still-trembling body before he wrenches a red-coated knife—never breaking eye-contact—from the throat of the man you’d been at the mercy of just a few seconds ago.

Blood gushes up from the fatal wound, and you both watch the cruel scene, mesmerized. The attacker’s eyes dull, all evil dissipating from that once-ferocious gaze. The rescuer’s big, wide hands flip him over, stripping him of his stained beige jacket. Then, he carelessly kicks the lifeless form face-down onto the yellowing grass.

“Put it on.”

You uncross your arms, snatching the coat from the stranger’s extended hands. It doesn’t bother you, its belonging to him.

He’s dead; you get his coat.

A fair exchange.

He keeps an eye on you as he sorts through the pickings: a few strips of dried meat here, a loaded gun there (two bullets in the clip—you watch as he checks), and a few good blades, stashed inside pockets, bags, and down shirt-fronts.

The man straightens up.

Tall.

“Get in front of me,” his low baritone strikes you, causing your knees to concede to a slight wobble. “You run, you die. Got it?”

Texan.

Slowly, you nod, and a firm grip circles your wrist, tearing you from the wall.

“Walk.”

Your heart hammers—near deafening in your ears—as the stranger stalks behind you, directing your trembling movements with brusque, snapped commands.

Finally, the scattered orangey-red leaves begin to multiply, the domestic remnants of a past civilization thinning. The neighborhood opens into a field; large oaks and slouching willows shiver under the weak glare of the afternoon sun.

There’s a house up there. It seems to be in alright shape (some things are built tougher than others) and it’s certainly a step up from a few of the more… unsavory places the outbreak had led you to.

Nearing it, you take not of how much it resembles a barn-house. Red, pentagonal roof, and a big, wide, brown front door.

Gingerly stepping a foot on the cracked wood of the porch, you turn to face your rescuer, uncertainty tying slippery knots in your tummy.

Because there’s clamour coming from inside. There’s people in there.

The momentary hesitation allows you to get a good look at your rescuer: he’s greying and dark—mixed, likely, or just disposed to a stubborn tan—and probably in his mid forties. Probably handsome, too, if it weren’t for the resident cruel scowl deepening his apathetic expression, or the violence dancing in his eyes.

A raise of his eyebrows.

“I tell you to stop?” He nods towards the looming house. “Move.”

But… you don’t.

“Are you gonna kill me?” and you’re downright shocked by the strength—the resignation—of your tone, the way the question comes out so matter-of-fact.

That sparse mustache crinkles in the corners, teasing into something wicked. “You want me to?”

“No.”

“So get movin’, then.”

That left little room for debate.

So, you turn, fingers and knees shaking with anxious anticipation. He cuts in front of you at the last minute, shoving the front door open with his knife at his side—for you or for something else, you’re not entirely certain.

He pulls you into the foyer by your forearm; to your great dismay, you’re faced with an entire group of middle-aged men. Killers—for sure—leering at you with that same starved, animalistic look your rescuer had fixed you with.

Then, he tosses the bag on the floor.

“Found ‘em by the school. Decent haul.”

Their eyes tilt to your shuddering frame, dwarfed by the jacket weighing down your shoulders. One of them looks strangely familiar, proud features reminding you of something else you were afraid of. “No shit, huh,” he commends, “Nice work, Joel.”

Joel.

As the shaggy-haired man speaks, his voice strikes familial resemblance, and it dawns on you. Your rescuer’s brother, or at the very least a cousin.

And what he says is a clearly marked taunt. That much is clear. Uttered with the kind of cruel camaraderie which collected on the tongues of men who committed acts of violence together.

Who hunted together.

And it’s obvious you’re not being rescued. Just… reclaimed. Redistributed.

Fuck.

Another voice joins the mix. “How much you think y’could get for her?”

Joel’s profile turns, harsh, brutal lines forming as he assesses you. “Depends,” and then—ohmothermary—he smirks.

“Gonna have to test her out first.”

A few snickers.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

You’re trapped with nowhere to go, once again surrounded by a gaggle of soulless monsters. Fear grips you, but thankfully, it’s muted, now, having been mostly expended during the harrowing events of the morning.

Just an hour ago, pressed to the side of an abandoned house, you’d allowed yourself to give up.

So, it feels easy—natural—settling back into that rhythm.

To submit to your inevitable, violent fate.

Joel’s voice cuts through the clamour of your racing thoughts. “Upstairs, the room with the open door. Go.”

Eyes glued to the floor, you put one foot in front of the other, your insides twisting and turning inside your core. Fuck, you can feel the pairs of eyes following you with every step you take. The stairs creak as your weight presses into them, squealing like wounded prey.

“N’ take that fuckin’ jacket off,” Joel calls after you, the echoes of his booming voice and the group’s degrading laughter chasing you all the way up into the room—the one with the open door.

And it’s nice, surprisingly. Dusty, admittedly, and clearly having belonged to someone else—a long, long time ago—but the bed is made, the window lets the light in, and the walls remind you of cinnamon.

No, this wouldn’t be the worst prison. Or the worst place to die. It’s a sure-fire step up from the gutter between two dilapidated houses.

You keep the jacket on, shivering under its weight. Even as you hear footsteps climbing the stairs, even as the more rational, civilized side of your mind urges you to accede to your (non)rescuer’s every command.

The conversation downstairs dies off just as Joel rounds the corner, appearing in the doorway—a giant. Though your stomach lurches, and though your legs feel like putty, you hold your ground.

“I’ll fight, you know,” you hiss, watching him seal off the entrance to the room behind him. His flannel has droplets of blood on the collar—reminders of your previous captor—would your other attacker have been a better option? Who’d be more merciful to your quivering body?

You charge your voice with every last modicum of strength at your disposal. “I’ll fight.”

He turns, smirking softly at your clenched fists. “S’good, sweetheart. I like a little fight.” He stalks towards you, swiping his thumb along the plushness of his bottom lip, his intimidating presence forcing your back to meet the flat hardness of the wall behind you.

So much for fighting.

There’s nothing living in his eyes as he says it—nothing save the roiling flames of hunger: “You see those guys downstairs?”

You glare up at him, trying not to notice the alluring hook of his nose, or the way your body works against you, responding to the earthy smell of him.

Then, you nod, wordlessly.

“Did you count ‘em?” He splays a hand beside your head, using one hand to pry your arms uncrossed.

Again, you nod. “How many?” He asks, his voice deceptively soft.

“Five.” Breathless.

“S’right, sweetheart. Ever had your lil’ holes stuffed by five guys at once?”

A swallow, and your voice cracks when you’re finally able to put it to use. “No.”

He pries your elbows to your sides, pulling the beige fabric open, revealing the torn remains of your underwear.

It’s almost a croon, feigned concern underpinning his low tone. “You wanna see what it’s like?” He drinks in the sight of your bare chest, almost groaning at the sight of your naked front.

It’s not cold anymore; no, suddenly you’re very hot.

“No, please, no.”

He slips the coat off of your shoulders, letting it fall in a heap to the ground. He assesses you once more: studying every square inch of your skin under his shadowed eyes.

“M’only gonna say this once, sweetheart.” All that fake-gentleness fades from his tone, replaced by the sadistic, authoritative timbre he’d first greeted you with. “I need you to be very careful.”

You’re frozen—all that fight, it drains out of you, captivated by the raider’s looming form, his mesmerizing speech.

“You’re alone, yeah?” A nod, which he acknowledges, trailing a hand up the length of your waist. “S’what I thought. N’ the way I found you today? That’s a best-case-scenario for a girl like you, out here on your own.”

He drags a finger up the centre of your breast, skilled fingertips just barely brushing the peaked nipple. You lean into his touch—the near imperceptible arch of your back doesn’t go unnoticed, and you kick yourself internally as the corners of his lips twitch up.

Still, the raider ignores your trembling.

“You’re mine, now,” he continues, egged on by your involuntary movement. “Means you’re gonna be a good girl n’ do as I say, n’ I’ll make sure I’m the only man who touches you.” His big hand drops to his heavy silver buckle, and the clearly defined, bulging lines underneath it have your heart clawing out of your chest. Joel senses your fear—and it only makes him harder. “I don’t like sharin’ what’s mine, y’know? But you try anything—you step outta line—I’ll throw you to my guys downstairs.”

His hand finds your throat, hunger and warning beating to the same rhythm in his gaze. “I have no problem watching.” He gives your larynx a squeeze, multitasking as he pulls the strap of his belt through the worn loops of his denim. “Understood?”

You have no words left, shaking from head to toe as the reality of the situation finally settles in.

As he works the intimidating weight of his cock out of his jeans.

A huff. Joel flips you over, impatient, pressing your scraped up cheek to the cinnamon-brown of the wall.

Déjà vù.

Your knees are separated by his own, and his weight flattens you. He wastes no time: lining himself up, his tip separates your folds. Resistance is futile—with one hand, he holds your thighs open—even as they try to press themselves closed, even as you whimper at the rough, male knuckles pressed to bruise on the insides of your legs.

Leaving his mark.

It’s not an option to simply take it. Joel forces you to participate in the sinful act: “I asked you a fuckin’ question,” he growls, gripping your chin indelicately. “You understand me, girl?”

A swallow and a flinch as you feel the head of his cock poke at your entrance. “Yes. Okay. Yes.”

“Yes, Joel,” he corrects. “Use my name. You’re mine now. Use my fuckin’ name.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes at the promised savagery in his tone. Holding back a sob, you respond: “Yes, Joel.”

You watch his hand, large and capable, splaying out a mere inch away from the tip of your nose. “Good,” he commends. “Z’are the only fuckin’ words you know, from now on.”

His free hand slaps against your hip, yanking you down onto his hard length. Your hips buck up against his abdomen, responding to the pull of his fingertips, even as you cry out at the sting, the stretch. The raider tries to force himself between your walls—muttering a grunted “shit”—and thrusting up against your ass.

But you’re too tight, too tense, and your stubborn body refuses to open up for him. Finally listening to you.

“Relax,” he orders, surprisingly softly. He moves his hand from your hip to the apex of your thighs, rubbing rough circles against your clit. Fuck, how’d he find it so fast? You gasp at the feel of his fingertips against your most sensitive, touch-starved spot, hating yourself for the way his pressure makes you feel.

Because…

Because—fuck.

It feels… good. The man knows exactly what he’s doing—methodical in his ministrations, prepping you only enough to ensure his own eventual pleasure. “S’too tight, baby,” he breathes against your neck, “Need to loosen up for me, yeah?”

He’s not gentle. No part of it is gentle. Nonetheless, pleasure ripples through your centre and down your thighs as he effectively turns you on.

“Thaaaaaa’s right,” and his voice is mocking and taunting and degrading as he drags his digits away, grabbing and pulling at your breasts, instead. Feeling the involuntary release of your cunt, Joel finally pushes himself in, sheathing the long, thick length of his cock inside you.

“Need to show this pussy what it’s fuckin’ made for.”

A current of pain flutters up your cunt just as he fills it up to the brim. You can’t help it—your stoicism crumbles to dust—and a soft, scared, pained whimper tumbles from your lips.

And he groans at it, thrusting roughly, over and over again. And again. “Hurts, does it?”

His breath is hot against your ear, and despite the fear, the ancient instincts gripping your bones, telling you to run, run, run, fight, fight, fight—it’s… enticing.

Hot.

“It hurts.”

He laughs, low and dark, bringing his hands to circle your hips, steadying you as you stumble on your tip-toes.

“Cry about it.”

And he keeps on going, tearing you open. The way his girth touches every starved part of your insides leaves you wanting, even despite the sting of his fingernails biting into your hips, the tears and cuts stinging at your opening.

You hate yourself for it.

But you clench around him, stifling a pathetic moan.

God, no—I am not enjoying this.

He breathes another laugh. “Feelin’ full, baby? Tell me how good it feels, c’mon,” and your inhalations come in heaves as he pounds into you, delivering a harsh slap to the side of your hip, hard enough for your skin to ripple from the contact. “Do as I say.”

When you refuse to sate him, swallowing all of your little noises, Joel grips your throat, bringing your head slamming against his shoulder. Your back arches into a perfect crescent, spine contorting at his will. A gasped cry fans out against his salt-and-pepper jaw.

A sob—of fear, of frustration, of reluctant pleasure. “You’re evil.”

The grip on your throat tightens, and he looses another laugh, squeezing your skin, muscles, and tendons oh-so-tight.

You’d be wrecked, bruised—branded—come sunrise.

“Yeah?” He groans, cock slamming up into your very guts.

“M-mhmm—” and the saltwater tears start pouring, trailing glistening slopes down your cheeks in long, long lines. Distantly, you hear his answer—“Yeah, well, you’re wet”—as those silver droplets keep on falling. Where they come from, you aren’t certain; of course, the terror, the physical torture, and the frustration at your entrapment contribute to the mess under your eyes.

But that warmth… the unbridled desire radiating between your thighs… that wasn’t helping, either.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans, muttering another “S’it—s’right,” and releasing your throat to tilt your head up to face him. He drinks in his creation, the ruined sight of your tear-stricken face, and his cock swells between your beaten walls. “God, you look so fuckin’ pretty takin’ it from me—cryin’ like your lil’ pussy ain’t desperate for this.”

Joel smiles when you sob.

It goes on for a while. He doesn’t tire quickly, bringing you right up to the edge of reluctant ecstasy before you remind yourself of the hatred you owed the man fucking into you. You get used to the sound of his hips snapping against your skin, your cries mingling with his gravelly, low grunts. It’s a dirty, depraved symphony—orchestrated by the monster between your thighs.

You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips when he finally, finally brings his fingers back down between your legs. He grunts in approval, barely grazing the length of your folds, pressing his thumb into the delicate flesh of your thigh, instead. “Dirty lil’ girl—fuckin’ dyin’ to be an old man’s whore, z’that it?” and he doesn’t even touch you, focussed on his own pleasure, but the proximity alone is enough to have you wrecked.

And you just can’t help it: “J-joel—”

“Y’know,” he chuckles, slightly out of breath, slowing his strokes to address your wanton whine, “You’re gonna make such a good lil’ fuck-toy, baby, f’you keep makin’ those pretty lil’ noises for me.”

The reality of the situation comes barrelling down on you as he acknowledges—praises—your enjoyment of his torture.

This man… this man was cruel. He was hurting you, and enjoying it.

You struggle against him, a pathetic show of weakness. Joel holds you in place effortlessly, arching your back further, keeping your hips preened back to receive the harsh thrusts he delivers to your torn, ruined cunt. “Where you goin’?” He laughs at your pathetic attempt at resistance, grips tightening. “Thought we were havin’ fun, baby—don’t it feel good?”

And he quickens again, slamming into every needy spot inside you. His breaths grow shallow, as rough as his hands and the ferocity of this punishment.

“No,” you manage, fingernails digging into his forearm.

He tuts, the vocal click constricted with lust, and his hand travels the length of you, settling against that aching bud between your thighs. “Fuckin’ liar.”

He presses down, proving his point. Your entire body tenses as pleasure ripples through you—despite your best efforts, climax crests through your core, threatening to implode within you. Joel hums, smirking when he feels your legs parting even wider.

“S’mine now, alright? You’re mine now.” He crams every inch of his cock up inside you, pulling you flush against his chest. “S’okay to come for me—s’okay, baby, I want you to—s’fuckin’ right, let go for me, baby—” and his crooning takes you over the edge.

Christ, it feels so good.

You clench around him, high-pitched pleas and moans tumbling from your lips, his own pair dragging down the swoop of your ear. In that split second, Joel—the devil at your back—is your favourite thing in the world: your hero, your haven, your God. Fuck, you could just kiss him, marry him, fuck him over and over and over and over—

A hand clamps over your mouth during those brief, blissful moments; the man practically bounces you up and down the length of him, muffling the cries of pain and pleasure tearing from your sore throat against the rough skin of his palm. He groans inside your ear—a stammered, sinful “fuuuck”—and then he’s spilling his seed inside you, shoving it impossibly deep as those quick, harsh strokes stutter and slow.

You come to, waking up from your pleasure-drunk daze. Before you get the opportunity to wriggle away from him, the monster flips you over again, slamming your shoulders to the wall. With his forearm barring your chest, and despite your fear and ire—somehow, all you can think about is the fact that he’s not as out of breath as he really should be (given his age and, of course, what he’d just done to you).

Joel leaks out of you. His cum paints masterpieces down your legs.

He slides his free hand down the length of his cock, collecting the last bits of slick clinging to him and not dripping out of you. The intermingling juices are brought to the roundness of your breasts—the raider slathers your sore peaks with his own spend.

“Nobody’s gonna fuck with you—but that means you’re Joel’s girl. Hear me?” With your head bowed, you glare up at him through silver-lined spider lashes, shame beating at your cheeks. When you hum your acknowledging “uh-huh,” the stranger continues on, gripping your jaw to angle your gaze up: “Means you listen—you-you don’t fuckin’ try me—n’ you take everything I give you, every fuckin’ time. Understand?” He tucks his softening length back in his pants, dark eyes dancing with satisfaction as he leers at your destroyed form.

When you don’t respond, he brings the back of his punishing hand colliding with the side of your face.

Something between a squeal and a gasp tumbles from your lips; Joel catches it, placing the pad of his thumb to your bottom lip, pressing down. Your cheek stings from his harsh slap, delivered on top of the scrapes and wounds a different cruel man had left upon your skin.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, baby, but I will f’I have to,” and he’s earnest, commanding and pleading at once. “You gotta answer me.”

Slowly, you croak out a timid, “Yes,” and an “I understand,” followed by a final “Joel.”

Nodding, he straightens, the violence in his gaze fading just minutely. When he lets go, you stagger—the raider senses the instability of your knees, reflexively snaking a steadying arm around your waist.

You’re not sure where the impulse comes from. Perhaps it’s exhaustion, the aftermath of your orgasm, or maybe it’s just a sick, twisted desire to sink into something beyond your body—either way, you respond to Joel’s support by throwing your arms around his neck.

And he responds by lifting you, walking you over to the bed, and tossing you down on the sheets. Awakening into reality, you scamper back, grabbing and yanking at the surrounding bedding in a desperate attempt to cover yourself.

But Joel pays you no mind.

Having had his way, he’s through with you—for now. Nonchalantly, apathetically, he runs a hand through his hair, tracing heavy steps towards the door.

“Lock the door when I leave,” he instructs, but his tone is soft… possessive and commanding, yes, but… caring. “Don’t open it for anyone but me.”

He waits for your show of understanding, your near imperceptible nod.

Then, he sighs, yanking on the handle and giving you his final address over a pair of creaky, squeaky, rusted hinges. “Try to sleep, sweetheart—got a long night ahead of you.” Chuckling to himself, he leaves the sanctuary of the room.

All you can hear as your body grows heavy and warm, travelling somewhere far, far beyond this violent world are the echoes of male laughter down the hall, and a familiar, satisfied, gravelly voice:

“Not worth much, now. Might just fuckin’ keep her.”

And you slip away, dreaming of belt buckles, blood-stained collars, and the lung-squeezing heat of the setting Texan sun.

—

He used to call me DN

That stood for deadly nightshade

'Cause I was filled with poison

But blessed with beauty and rage

Jim told me that

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

Jim brought me back

Reminding me of when we were kids

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

He used to call me poison

Like I was poison ivy

I could've died right then

'Cause he was right beside me

Jim raised me up

He hurt me but it felt like true love

Jim taught me that

Loving him was never enough

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

We can go back to New York

Loving you was really hard

We could go back to Woodstock

Where they don't know who we are

Heaven is on earth

I would do anything for you, babe

Blessed is this union

Crying tears of gold, like lemonade

I love you the first time

I love you the last time

Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines

'Cause I'm your jazz singer

And you're my cult leader

I love you forever

I love you forever

With his ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

Ultraviolence

I can hear sirens, sirens

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

I can hear violins, violins

Give me all of that ultraviolence

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @bookofbee @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @razrsharpwhiteteeth @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @sallymilkweed @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @ayehomo @dzaga890 @killerrxger @niallsbunny @cilliansangel @snowyarcher @grnherbs @mswarriorbabe80 @tercabed @sweettea-and-honeybutter @bbyanarchist @thisgirl-knm @pedrit0-pascalit0

TAGS WILL CONTINUE IN A REBLOG (there are simply too many of you & I don’t want this post to crash <3)

[ivestas]

a good shot

Summary: König had a staring problem, so you confront him about it. 

Tags: sniper!fem!reader x konig, platonic!141 x reader, barely edited, awkward, unintentional confession(?)

Word count: 1.1k

Note: my mw2 obsession is real. been trying to deny it but its all that occupies my brain.... send some reqs?? i have such a bad habit of saying that then not following thru but i promise i will LMFAOOO (nah but fr tho im working on ur guys’ requests, just veryyyy slowly since, again, mw2 brainrot) also sorry if this seems rushed, i just wanted to get this idea out of my head hehe

König had a staring problem. 

You really didn’t know why, but whenever he was near, you could practically feel his gaze burn a hole through your skin. 

You weren’t one to care for stares—you were used to it, especially in your early years as a merc. Most would just be curious why a woman was wearing a bullet vest, especially civilians. 

But... König’s eyes were intense. Nothing like the curious—or even hateful—looks you were used to. 

You were sure you hadn’t done anything wrong; you barely spoke, never really caring too. You kept to yourself. You didn’t particularly stand out next to your flamboyant peers. 

So... why? 

You’d first asked Soap about it: he was a people person, always seemed to know someone’s intentions in an instant. 

However, he was confused. “He stares at you?” 

"You hadn’t noticed?” 

“No? I barely see the lad in general, always skulkin’ in some shadow.” 

“Seriously?” You frowned. “Then you think you’d know why?”

“Hmmm... here, maybe if I get my crystal ball and ponder for a bit I can find out!” 

"Shove the ball up your ass instead.” You snorted. Soap laughed, probably at his own joke than yours. 

Getting up, you headed to your next target: Ghost. 

You found him in the mess hall, taking apart his rifle on one of the cafeteria tables by himself. Without a second thought, you slid beside him. He didn’t acknowledge you.

Propping your head up with a hand, you look at him. Despite it being night, he’s still wearing his balaclava and shades. You decided it’s best not to make a comment about it since you’re trying to pry answers regarding the Austrian Colossus. 

“You’ve noticed König staring at me, right?” 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Do you think you’d know why? I’m sure I hadn’t done anything to piss him off, but he’s always just... you know...” you widen your eyes, leaning in. “Doing this. I don’t know whether to be unsettled or flattered.” 

Ghost carefully puts two pieces of his rifle together, a satisfying click resonating in the air. “Maybe he’s surprised why the 141 got a clown for a sniper.” He intoned. 

“Says the guy wearing a skeleton balaclava and tinted shades—scared the enemies are gonna find out you’re actually just a loser with nothing to his name?” You said the words too quickly, and when Ghost looked at you, he probably knew the thought was bubbling in your head. 

"...” 

“...” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that crawled out your throat, and you noticed that the corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkled. 

“...So you don’t know?” 

He snorted. “I’m no psychic.” 

Sighing, you rose from your seat, leaving Ghost once more in his own bubble. 

You really didn’t want to, but you realized you were gonna have to ask from the source itself—König.  

Now, you didn’t consider yourself a shy or anxious person, but there was something so imposing about König; maybe it was the fact he literally towers over you like some Goliath, or maybe it’s the fact he only speaks in raspy monosyllables, or, maybe, it was the fact that he just always stares at you, but you couldn’t deny the nervousness that writhed in the pit of your stomach. 

But curiosity shined over it, because just why would he just stare? 

So, you decided to head to the shooting field: it was an open secret that König often lurked there at night, shooting away at the targets from the day. No one really complained since he’d replace the targets with new ones at the end of every session.

The walk was short; just a quick turn through some halls and out through a door and you’re in the range. 

König was some meters away, hunched over a stack of crates and a sniper under his arm. His back was to you. 

You stepped on a stray stick just beside your foot. His head shot up. 

He turned around in an instant, sniper tight in his hand. 

They were right. He’s antsy. 

“Hey, König.” 

“...” 

You slowly approached as though he were a frightful deer... but perhaps a cautious bear would be a more accurate descriptor. He could kill you in seconds. 

Like anyone can. It doesn’t scare you. 

Admittedly, it’s a little exciting.

“Can I talk to you about something?” 

“...yes.” 

 “Your eyes—uh, you stare. A lot.” 

His gaze flickered away. 

“Just wondering why you just... stare. I’m pretty sure we’ve never spoken, either—”

“We’ve spoken,” he cut in. Rough and light, as usual. “Mostly on missions though.” 

“Oh... well, I’m just wondering if I pissed you off, somehow? Earned your ire? I’m dumb, I forget and I can be socially unaware—”

“No, no, no!” His eyes rounded, the sniper loosened in his hands. “No, you didn’t! I just, well...”

“...well?” You echoed, prompting him to continue. 

He did. 

“You’re nice to look at.”

Your brain froze. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

“I’m sorry, is that weird?—it is, isn’t it? I apologize, I—”

“No, wait, I’m really flattered, I just—” you laugh breathlessly. In disbelief. “That’s just really fucking flattering.” You can feel your face light up with heat, and all the neat composure you’ve built wash away completely. 

Now, you’re reduced to a blushing schoolgirl at a complete loss for words. 

What were you supposed to say? What does that even mean? Is that an admission of some crush, or were you just eye candy to him?—and did you like that, like his attention or are you just that deprived of contact? 

You force your eyes to his, and you realize he’s hunched over, rubbing at the metal butt of his sniper with a thumb, eyes everywhere except on yours. 

"So...” you rubbed your wrist. “What now?”

He finally looked at you. “Huh?”

You were this far already, you weren’t gonna back down yet. Even if your heart was slamming against your chest. “You just called me pretty? And I have a feeling you’re easy on the eyes too—maybe this is too quick—but wanna hang out then? Like, talk and stuff... because... I’m pretty?”

König stared for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “It would be an honor.” 

“Then let’s hang out right now! Stay here, I’m gonna grab my sniper and we’re gonna shoot shit till bullets’re covering the ground!!” 

König extended his sniper. “Use mine. I want to see how you shoot.” His eyes fluttered, gaze awkwardly averting yet again. You were beginning to find it endearing. “You’re a good shot. And I’d like to get better.” 

“And watching me will help you?”

“Yes,” he said the word with earnest, eyes bright. 

A crooked smile pulled at your lips. Fuck, you weren’t used to this. 

But you liked it. You liked it a lot. You just hoped you could eventually make him feel the same. 

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open