#wasn’t she a stunner? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovelywritinglady · 2 months ago

Note

Okay so maybe the plot for the Nanami x house maid reader is some of both smut and wholesome but maybe he finds reading working so hard one day his on a mission with gojo or Geto or both so he offended her a job to be his maid and after a while he finds himself in love????

Yesss!

His Maid

Nanami Kento x fem!reader

I’m which you are Nanami Kenton’s maid and through some annoying events, you become so much more.

SMUT. Fluff, mild angst, mild misogyny(Gojo) and wholesome themes.Changed the plot slightly. Protected sex, Semi vanilla sex.

Six months had passed since you had answered an ad in the paper about a younger gentleman needing a maid. You knew that it was sketchy and slightly dumb but at that time you were really desperate for money. After you answered, you met the man in question at a bakery. At the time, you were grateful for the public setting just in case anything would go wrong. To say you were happily surprised was a complete understatement. He was by far the most handsome man you had ever seen. The interview went so well that you started the very next day. And after only a month of working for him, you had developed a serious crush on the salary man, but you knew that opening yourself to him might make you end up losing the best job you'd ever have. Little did you know that our boss had felt the exact same way.

Today was another average working day for you. Coming in around 9:00am cleaning the kitchen, cooking him breakfast, and tidying the space as he left for work. And then cleaning the rest of the house a well as doing laundry and doing other task that needed to be done. It wasn’t exceptionally hard considering Mr. Nanami was a naturally clean person. The time was now 3:30 pm and it was time for you to go back home. As you were preparing to leave, you heard the door to the apartment open and two men walked in with one of them chatting away. The second man was your boss who was silent as he closed the dirt behind himself and his company.

“Hello Sir, I was just on my way out.” You greeted bowing to show respect.

“Ah, thank you Ms. L/n. Perfect work as always.” Nanami responded looking around his apartment admiring your handiwork. Feeling warm at the sight of you.

“Thank you sir!” You replied giving him your best smile which earned you a small smile back.

“Well hello there cutie.” The taller white haired man spoke coming closer.

“Good day sir.” You said trying your best to be polite as you tried to get past him.

“You didn’t tell us you had such a cutie working for you Kento.” He teased slightly blocking your path, making you feel uncomfortable.

“Please refrain from harassing Ms. Y/n, Gojo.” Nanami spoke calmly however you could tell he was mad.

“Jeez chill, Kento I was only saying hi.” The man you now know as Gojo spoke with his hands up.

“It’s quite alright. Good evening Sir, I’ll be leaving now.” You interjected not wanting the situation to get heated.

“Yes, but please would you mind waiting outside for just a moment?" Nanami asked you

"Sure." You responded slightly confused as you made your way out of the door.

"Was that really necessary?" Nanami asked with visable annoyance

"Hey, its not my fault your maid is a stunner." Gojo replied leaning back against the wall. "Is that why you hired her Kento, I thought that I was enough." Gojo pouted

"Get out.” Nanami sighed looking at Gojo with disgust.

“What! Kento we have important things to discuss.” Gojo yelled

“Yes I know, but your blatant disregard for Ms. L/n.” Nanami exclaimed firmly.

“What do you mean? She’s just a maid Kento, cute maid, but just a maid.” Gojo spoke nonchalantly

“Geez, I’m going I’m going!” Gojo said finally leaving the apartment. As he passed you, he gave you a playful smirk and wished you a good day. This action made you feel slightly disgusted and you questioned to yourself why Nanami would ever hang out with someone like him.

After a few moments, Nanami came out giving you an apologetic look. His blood was still boiling at what had just occurred. You smiled at him looking up in his eyes.

“Miss L/n, I’m sorry for him.” Nanami sighed

“It’s completely fine sir, I will admit I was a bit shocked.” You laughed slightly which made Nanami smile a bit.

“Thank you for being so patient.” He replied grabbing your shoulder slightly

“You’re welcome sir, is there anything else you need from me today?” You asked feeling a blush creeping from his bold touch.

Nanami paused at your question as there were many things he needed from you. However, he knew that if he crossed that line that there would be no going back. He knew that if you didn’t feel the same way that he could lose you forever and he couldn’t have that.

“Sir?” You asked pulling Nanami from his thoughts. You had noticed that he went blank as his eyes stared deeply into you yours only to pull away quickly leaving you slightly disappointed.

“No, thank you. You may go.” He responded coldly disappointed in himself for not giving in to his desires.

“Y-yes good day sir.” You stuttered unsure of where this hostility came from.

You then turned to leave feeling awkward and disappointed at the situation you had found yourself in today. Your heart beat faster than you believed it ever had. The feeling you had kept bottled up were eating you alive as you walked back to your car. However, you only made it about 20 paces when you felt a hand grab your left arm. Instinctively you turned around only to be met with the desperate eyes of Nanami Kento.

“Miss l/n, please forgive me for my boldness, but I cannot contain myself.” He spoke taking a deep breath. “I confess that I have stronger feelings for you than any employer should have for his employee. I have felt this way for far too long and it’s been clouding my mind. I have feelings for you and I cannot go another money longer without making those feelings known.” Nanami declared giving you a nervous smile.

You stood there for a moment absolutely flabbergasted by his sudden confession. You didn’t know what to say. Everything you had felt the past few months that you had to keep it yourself felt too overwhelming. Words failed you as you tried to replied but your body would it allow you to speak the things weighing on your heart. You could see that Nanami was awaiting your response looking slightly scared at your lack of an answer. So, you did what your body dictated. You grabbed his face with your free hand, pulling him to you as your lips crashed upon his. He immediately kissed back with the same fire that you had displayed. Every emotion you both had been feeling came out in the action of this kiss. Nanami let go of your arm and wrapped his around your body. Your now free hand grabbed the back of his head as you pulled him deeper. Your lips moved passionately against his, his body on yours, your hands on him.

Nanami decided mid kiss to take you back inside his apartment. He suddenly picked you up making you gasp and break the kiss. However, Nanami immediately placed his lips on yours again slightly softer this time as he wakes into his apartment closing the dirt behind him with you still being held in his arms. He brought you to the couch putting you on your back as he continued his kiss. Once you were there, he let go of his kiss looking down at your now disheveled face.

“I’m glad you feel the same.” He whispered kissing your forehead before resting his against yours.

“As am I.” You replied stroking his cheek.

“If you don’t wish to continue that’s completely okay.” He reassured to you lifting his head to look at you better.

“I want to, I’ve wanted to for awhile.” You admitted

“I promise that if you feel even a little bit uncomfortable we can stop.” He added not wanting you to be uncomfortable

“I’ve never been more comfortable in my life than in this moment with you.” You moaned softly feeling his clothed erection on your stomach.

“I feel the same.” Nanami responded kissing you tenderly.

“Make love to me.” You asked holding him close

“Anything for you.” He spoke taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt leaving you speechless at the sight of his toned abs.

You soon followed his actions taking off your own blouse leaving yourself in your bra, hoping he’d take that off for you. And as though he was reading your mind, his hands touched the soft skin of your boobs. You then touched him feeling how hard his muscles were making you more wet than before. After a few more gentle touches, Nanami slid his hands behind your back unclasping your bra with ease and then tossing it to the side. You felt your face get hot at his efficiency and rubbed your still clothed pussy.

“Breathtaking.” He he whispered as his voice deepened.

“You’re so beautiful.” You responded feeling hazy.

“Took the words right out of my mouth darling. Now, let’s get the rest of these clothes out of my way. I don’t think I can wait any longer.” He said breathing deeply looking in your e/c eyes.

“Please, I need you.” You replied feeling more needy than before.

You both took of your remaining clothes with haste. Both hot and needy for one another. As soon as Nanami was done he jumped up quickly grabbing a condom and placing it on. Once done, Nanami captured your lips in a heated kiss as his hardened cock pressed against your throbbing pussy. He rocked his hips against you as you wrapped your legs around him rocking against him. You held him against you feeling his cock twitch as you grabbed a fist full of his beautiful blond hair as you passionately kissed him.

Nanami reluctantly broke the kiss sat up a little admiring your perfect body feeling lucky to have you in such an intimate way. He then grabbed his cock making sure it was aligned with your hole.

“Are you ready?” He asked teasing your entrance.

“Yes, please fuck me. I need you.” You said desperately.

“That’s my girl.” He spoke pushing into you slowly. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” He moaned as your walls molded to his cock perfectly.

“Oh god, Nanami!” You moaned pulling him to you as your hands pressed against his strong back making Nanami groan.

“Y/n, oh sweet y/n.” Kento called out picking up the pace.

“Please faster.” You pleated.

And just like that, Nanami picked up the pace filling you so well with his cock hitting your g-spot more perfectly than anyone ever had better than anything you had even given yourself. It was a overwhelming sensation but you didn’t care. You needed him and based on his thrusts, you knew he felt the same. His arms were wrapped around your body with one had on your hip and the other on your cheek. He felt like he would cum at any moment but forced himself to hold out as he needed to feel you longer.

“Nanami, touch me.” You pleated

“Anything for you.” He grunted moving the hand on your hip to your clit rubbing it perfecting making you moan louder than before as you pressed your nails into his back leaving marks.

“Harder my darling.” Nanami asked to which you obliged making him moan deeply.

Soon, the knot that had been winding up was slowing coming undone as you were close. You then suddenly huffed a staggered moan as you finally climaxed as you clamped your walls around Nanami making him groan. He then smiled realizing that he had successfully made you cum. You saw this smile and pulled him against you kissing him as you were feeling overwhelmed with Nanami being stuffed inside you still.

A few seconds later, Nanami suddenly stopped and pulled out as he loudly cried your name. Once he finished, he laid on your stomach trying to calm down from the immense high he just had.

“How d-do you feel.” He asked you though staggered breaths while he nuzzled in your stomach.

“Amazing, just amazing.” You said running your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.

“Me too, I haven’t felt so good in a long time. Thank you.” He whispered closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around you, making himself comfortable.

“Anything for you.” You replied softly grubbing his cheek.

“Will you be mine?” He asked holding you closer.

“Of course I will. Nanami I was yours as soon as I kissed you.” You admitted

“I was yours as soon as you kissed me.” He replied sounding sleepy

“I’m so glad I accepted that ad.” You admitted feeling marvelous wonderful.

“I’m glad I can’t cook or clean well.” He laughed making you chuckle.

Thank you so much for reading!💜 I hope you liked it! Thank you as well to the person that requested this fic!! I apologize for the delay as life got pretty busy. Thank you for your patience.

Please feel free to like, comment, request, reblog, follow, and reblog.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

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random-imagines-blog · 6 months ago

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One Thousand Cheers {Dean Winchester x Female!Reader}

Wordcount: 2669 Requested by: @ab1nsur Summary: While hunting demons on the beach, you get caught up in a rather revealing contest. Warnings: Swearing, Spring Break chaos, A touch of non-consensual touching, demon mischief.

Demons on a beach during Spring Break. This felt like some sort of teen romance novel, and you could see the cover now - some red painted muscular guy holding some lusty teenager, the sunset behind them. Course, demons never actually looked like that. The ones you were looking for blended in well enough, looking like bikini-clad twenty-year olds who were looking for a hookup, rather than for souls. “Ever feel like you’re too old for this crap?” You asked Dean, standing up on a bench to try to look over the crowds for your demons, or for anyone who looked like they were being lured away. “Spring Break - what I wouldn’t give for a week off to feel like a stupid kid again.”

“This is your idea of a fun Spring Break?” Dean said, his eyes too busy scoping out the beach, and making sure that his Revolver was tucked away inside of his jacket. He’s the one that stood out for wearing one, in this almost 90-degree weather. The sun going down didn’t cool anything any. “My break was another hunt, and I’d be lucky if it wasn’t somewhere that was raining all the time.”

“I think that’s why you are the way you are. You didn’t get to party enough,” You chuckled. “Didn’t get to raise a little hell like these idiots.”

“Yeah, that’s my problem alright. Didn’t party enough,” Dean grunted. Then his eyes seemed to catch on something, much like how a cat will suddenly spot a squirrel and look ready to pounce. “To the left.”

“I see one to the right,” You whispered back. “Split up?”

“Going to have to,” Dean said. “We’ll meet back up over there.”

He motioned his head to one of the larger stages that seemed like it was preparing for a Wet T-Shirt Contest. You rolled your eyes at him. Of course, that’s where he would want to end up. “Alright, but only because it’s a good central location. Not because I wanna watch you get an eyeful.”

Before he could come up with a witty retort, you were off the bench and walking among the people. In your jeans and white t-shirt, you didn’t exactly fit in with them either, but at least you weren’t wearing a heavy jacket. Your own weapon, your knife, was tucked into a holster attached to your leg, and your fingers brushed against the hilt with every step that you took towards the woman who had flashed her black eyes at you. It was tough to maneuver through the crowd, tall men often standing in the way of your line of your vision, a couple of them playfully trying to touch you. You slapped their hands away and carried on, too focused on the mission to give them a piece of your mind. Otherwise, you would have picked them apart and left them absolutely decimated with only your words.

There she was. A fucking stunner. The vessel must have been a supermodel or something because this demon was getting a lot of attention, exactly like it wanted. It had it’s pick of tall, muscular, college-age men who didn’t actually think much about their future and would make a deal for something as stupid as money. Bargain away their soul for a couple of fun weekends in Cancun or something similar.

Going up and incapacitating it wasn’t an option, not with so many witnesses. There was no way you were going to be able to form a salt circle around it with all of these people around, it would get trodden on, if it didn’t immediately mix with the sand. But you couldn’t let it just take these men away either. If you could save their souls, best bet you were going to try.

“Hey, you,” You called out, jogging a little closer, running the back of your hand against your forehead where sweat was starting to gather and drip into your eyes. All the attention turned to you in that moment, and the demon knew that it had the advantage here. Its smirk made you want to rage. You had to use some quick thinking to get these men away.

“Can I help you?” It said, in a sickly-sweet voice. The fucking confidence in these demons - must be a younger one.

“You’re the bitch who gave my brother herpes, aren’t you?” You said, your mind flashing to Gabriel of all people, and the trick that he had pulled on Sam, making him pretend he was in a commercial for Herpexia. “Yeah, I remember you. Now I know my brother is too chickenshit to say anything, but I will.” You put your hands around your mouth to mime a loudspeaker of some kind, getting more people to look. “THIS CHICK HAS HERPES. DON’T SHARE A DRINK WITH HER OR SLEEP WITH HER. SHE WON’T EVEN CALL YOU AFTER ANYWAY!”

The demon growled, a touch of its true nature showing, the eyes darkening as the guys around her started to subtly walk away, deciding that it just was not worth it. So at least one part of your idea was coming to fruition.

“You play dirty,” she said, her head tilting menacingly towards you. The eyes were so focused on yours. You stepped in a little closer, your hand closing around the hilt of your weapon as a little room was made by the absence of her suitors.

“Yeah, I was inspired by a tricky angel, what can I say?” You said, your own gaze glaring. “What happened to just hanging around crossroads, huh? Surely that has more dignity than picking up these scraps.”

“Dignity? Now - you’re one to talk,” The demon said, the smirk growing on her painted red lips, which perfectly matched the bikini that she was wearing. Her hands were on her hips. She knew there were still too many people for me to do anything drastic, like go charging. “Always hanging around the Winchesters. Clinging onto Dean.”

“I don’t cling,” You scoffed. “I said, actually. It’s something that friends do. Which you wouldn’t know, because demons don’t really have friends, do they? You’re not the most likeable sort.”

“Friends?” The demon said, chuckling, which got on your nerves. “Come on, y/n. Even from down below we can see how bad you have it for Dream-Boy Dean. Which is why you cling.”

“I think this part, right here, this is why you guys have a bad rep. The deals, the hellhounds, the annoying possessions, they’re all bad, but this right here? This is why you’re never going to have friends,” You glared, feeling yourself getting riled up. Which of course is what they wanted.

“We take bets down there, on how hurt you’re going to be when he turns you down,” The demon-woman giggled. “I bet a hundred souls that you’re going to call on one of us. Make a little deal so that he’ll love you the same way that you love him.”

"This isn’t going to stop me from killing you, you know. Actually, it’s making me want to do it more. And then you can go back down to hell and pass on the message that all of you are going to lose your money, nobody wins. You’re all just - so damn wrong.”

Your stomach was churning inside of you. The anger was making you start to become careless, but it wasn’t just the words that she was saying which were pissing you off. It was the fact that she had a goddamn point. OF COURSE you clung onto Dean Winchester. Has anyone seen him? He’s one of the most handsome men in the world, women and some men everywhere fell for him. And you had the pleasure of getting to know him, which made your admiration worse. He was a badass, he was confident, he was funny, he had this bad boy look down pat. But of one thing you were absolutely sure. You would never, ever be stupid enough to make a deal with a demon. Not for love, not for power, not for anything. If you ended up ever confessing your feelings to Dean, and he didn’t feel the same - that was that. You already prepared yourself for it.

“So do it,” The demon-woman said. “Kill me. But you know I’ll be back. That’s the thing that you really should hate about us demons. We always come back.”

“Yeah, it’s really annoying,” You had to admit. Your hand fastened around the hilt of your knife. “And it makes prison sound pretty damn worth it.”

She backed up, turned around and started to run, weaving through bodies. It appeared to be more of a dance than anything else, with her bare feet against the sand. You found it a little harder, running in your sneakers. The constant dipping into other people’s deeper footprints made your thighs burn as you kept moving. You wanted to have your knife in your hands but considering how many people were around, how there could be accidents, it wasn’t the smart thing to do. So, you were stuck just following, hoping to tackle. No, praying to all the angels that you knew that she would get hit with one of those giant beachballs that people were throwing around, so you could drag her out of there easier.

Dodge and weave. The people were growing closer and closer together. You were having to use your elbows. With the congestion, you felt like you were a piece of floss, struggling to get between teeth. You kept getting sprayed with something, water probably. No, ugh, it smelt like beer. Someone was actually shaking up their beer and then pouring out the foam over people.

You wrinkled your nose, wiping it away from your eyes before it could get into them, and then looked around again. You had totally lost her. There were other girls around in red bikinis but none of them had her face. You pushed more and more - until you found yourself being against a stage. Two arms came down and grabbed onto yours, pulling you up, confusing you further.

“And we have our last volunteer for the wet t-shirt contest!” An emcee said, different colored spotlights dancing around your body. “What’s your name, jeans?”

There were cheers coming from the crowd that you had just elbowed your way through. Your mouth went dry as you realized that everyone was now looking at you. You turned your eyes to the DJ booth where a man that looked like he was out of an LMFAO music video was standing, mic pointed out towards you.

“Y/N,” you said, loudly.

“Y/N! Come and stand with the other contestants, you all know how this goes don’t you?”

While he explained the rules of this stupid contest that you now couldn’t get out of, since everyone was looking over at you, you looked through the crowd. Your eyes first landed on the demon, who was smirking at you from amongst the crowd. Her ruby red lipstick made her look all the smugger and you shook your head at her, mentally threatening to make her exorcism as painful as possible. The next pair of eyes that you caught were green, and boy, were they wide.

Dean Winchester could be a bit of a gambling man, often with his life, but he would have never bet that he would see you be a part of a wet t-shirt contest.

One by one, the girls in your lineup had buckets of water poured over them. Your heart was pounding when your turn was coming up. You weren’t dressed like these other girls. You didn’t have on a skimpy bikini top. Hell, it looked like the girl two down from you wasn’t wearing a bra at all. She looked like Jennifer Aniston in Friends. You looked down to make sure that you were wearing one, and yes, thank Chuck you were, and it wasn’t one of your bad laundry-day bras either.

A gasp came out of you as a bucket full of COLD water was poured over your head. It was freezing absolutely freezing, and made you feel chilled down to the bone. But it had the effect that they wanted. Your white t-shirt was now drenched, and clinging onto your body, the way that the demon claimed you clung onto Dean. The cold had the effect on your body of making your nipples harden and start to point out of the thin fabric of your bra. The crowd in front of you went wild, a hundred, a thousand cheers coming out from them as they clapped for your body.

You warmed up pretty quick from how flustered you were feeling. Your eyes were still stuck on Dean’s as his trailed down your body, taking in the sight of you. It wasn’t the most exposed that you had been, since he had given you a hand with stitches on your abdomen before, but it was all about context. This wasn’t seeing you because he was helping. This was him seeing you because you somehow got put into a contest meant to give straight men and lesbians material for their spankbank.

And even though you hadn’t wanted to enter - you got in second.

And a bonus of a 100-dollar cash prize.

That part wasn’t so bad.

You took it without any pomp, just accepted the bill out of the emcee’s hand and hopped off the back of the stage with the intention of circling back around and trying to avoid the mass of people. Music was playing louder now that the contest was over. Free drink tickets were being thrown out from the stage. People were being pulled up to dance. It was basically a stampede over there, and you had to finally resign yourself to the fact that if the demon was in there, she was out of your reach.

You saw Dean exiting the crowd out of the corner of your eye and walked in his direction, pulling the shirt away from your skin, though once you let go, it immediately clung right back with a sick squelching sound. You crossed your arms in front of yourself instead, protecting what little modesty that you had left.

“Not a word, Winchester,” You warned him. He put his hands up innocently, though you knew that he had something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say.

You watched him as he took his heavy jacket off and he put it around your shoulders. You weren’t cold any longer, but you did take the opportunity to cover up, muttering a thank you as you crossed your arms in front of yourself to hide your wet t-shirt from view. “Can’t complain about a hundred bucks though,” he said, with a corny smile.

“I can complain that the demon bitch got away. I swear, she did that on purpose. Lead me to the stage so that I would get picked. Crowley is probably down there, laughing his ass off, knowing that his demon did this.”

“We’ll find them,” Dean said, resolutely. “- after you buy me an overpriced beer. You can afford it.”

You nudged him with the new weight of the jacket, making him chuckle. It was a welcome sound, after being humiliated and disappointed. “Fine, fine. One beer - but we’re looking for these hellspawns while we drink, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, gruffly. “We’ll squish these cockroaches.”

You nodded and he put his arm around your shoulders, leading you towards one of the makeshift bars on the beach, selling beer at three times the price of what they should be. Your heart was beating quickly again inside of your chest as you were pulled in close to him, the smell of his leather surrounding you. Your words flickered back to what the demoness had said - you clung to him. But right now, it almost looked like ...

He was clinging to you.

#Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester oneshot #Supernatural #Supernatural oneshot #x reader #imagines #deanw

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 8 days ago

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Toussaint L’Ouverture [no propaganda submitted]

Manuela “Manuelita” Saenz

a. “In addition to being a stunner (I mean, look at her), she was also Simon Bolivar’s girlfriend and she saved him from an assassination attempt at the theatre Colón, buying him time to escape with her tricks. Her British husband begged her to come back for several years (she was a catch so he wasn’t exactly going to divorce her for adultery) but she said no. When Simon Bolivar died, she kept his letters due to both love and a sense of archival duty. She entrusted them to a historian. Manuela Saenz was multilingual and spoke to people like Italian revolutionary Giuseppe Garibaldi and American writer Herman Melville. She died in exile because people were scared of her. And she was hot.” b. Defendant and fighter in the battles for the independence - Feminist icon. Fought for women's rights - General since 2007 (Ecuador) - Caballerese de la Orden del Sol del Perú by José de San Martín - Fight in serveral independence battle,cincluding the finals one to consolidate de Independence of Ecuador and Perú. She earned the title of "Coronela" of the Colombian army - Left her husband for Simon Bolívar "La libertadora del libertador": He liberated 5 countries and she liberated him. She also saved his life from an assassination atempt. - Novels, poems, operas and plays have been written about her. She appears in several TV shows and movies.

#latam independence sexyman

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lulublack90 · 8 months ago

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Prompt 6 - Ensure

@jegulus-microfic April 6, Word count 709

The fighting went on for what felt like hours. Order members against the Death Eaters. It was probably a lot less than he thought. James still didn’t know how long the fighting had actually gone on for.

He’d taken a stunner to the chest and flown backwards into a wall. He didn’t remember much after that, apart from Sirius’s and Remus’s blurred backs in front of him as they protected him from further damage.

Aurors began to apparate into the warring groups. The Death Eaters, now substantially outnumbered, began to disapparate. The abandoned factory filled with the sound of the retreating cracks and the final few curses flung over shoulders.

“James! James! Hang on, we’ll get you out of here.” Sirius sounded panicked. “Remus, help me. We need to get him to Marlene.”

James felt hands under his armpits, hauling him up and then the uncomfortable squeezing of apparition.

“Marlene!” Sirius yelled into the dark house. “Marlene?! Where the fuck are you?!” The brown-haired witch stomped into the room.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to Black?” She stopped when she saw James’s limp body. “Get him to the bedroom.” She ordered. James’s feet dragged along the wooden floor. He didn’t have the energy to lift them.

They deposited him on the bed, and Marlene hurried in with her healer’s bag. She began running her wand up and down him, muttering under her breath. Several glowing diagrams floated above him. “Hmm,” She hummed as she inspected him. “He’ll be fine. You’ll have a nasty bruise and probably be quite sore for a week or so, but I have a balm that will help with that.” She vanished the diagrams and dug around in her bag.

With another wave of her wand, she opened the buttons on his shirt, revealing the purpling skin beneath. Gently, she spread the balm across his chest. He sighed with relief as the tightness across his skin eased. He quickly fell asleep. Too tired to keep his eyes open.

It couldn’t have been that long after he fell asleep that shouting woke him.

“Did you really think I couldn’t find him, Sirius? I know exactly where he is every moment of the day.” He recognised that voice, but his sleep-addled brain couldn’t make the link.

“Go away, you’re not wanted here,” Sirius growled back.

“Oh, get out of the way, Sirius!” A scuffle occurred, and then James heard footsteps coming towards his room. The door flung open, and there stood still in his Death Eater robes was Regulus. James was beyond shocked. He hadn’t seen his ex for over three years.

“Reg?” He croaked. Regulus walked to the side of his bed and took his hand. “Why are you here?” He didn’t pull his hand away. Even though Regulus was fighting on the wrong side, he knew he was safe.

“I needed to ensure that you were alive.” He said flatly. James looked up at him, peering at his emotionless face and into his eyes. His eyes always gave him away. Most people couldn’t read them, but James could. Those steely grey windows into Regulus’s soul. He was scared. His fingers trembled ever so slightly around James’s hand.

“I’m okay, love. Marlene checked me over. No broken bones, just bruising.” He watched as Regulus’s shoulders relaxed a notch.

“I’m glad.” He barely whispered, his eyes trailing over James’s body. He lifted James’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Stay safe, James.” He demanded before he gently placed James’s hand back under the covers and left the room. “Yes, yes, Sirius, I’m leaving. But if you think I’ll leave him alone, you’re as mad as Voldemort.”

Sirius and Remus came rushing in once the door had slammed shut behind Regulus.

“James, are you alright?” Sirius clambered into the bed, checking on his friend.

“Yeah, I’m fine. He was just checking I wasn’t dead. He won’t be back. Don’t worry.” James knew he was lying. Regulus had revealed something that he didn’t think the other two had picked up on. ‘As mad as Voldemort.’ James ran those words over and over in his head for hours. Hope, building in his chest, that maybe, just maybe, Regulus wasn’t as lost as they’d all thought he was.

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ohraicodoll · 2 years ago

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You Bury Me

Joel Miller x Feral Reader/OC The Last of Us 7k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: A failed trade, a dress, music, and their own form of confession. Warning: Hurt/Comfort. Explicit Sexual Content. 18+ Minors DNI

“I'll never know If there's danger in confession Or it's memory that presses Like a blade against my throat Another word and I could choke But what's worse? Tellin' you my feelings Or to die without revealing That you got inside my head And set a fire there instead?”” -”Ya'aburnee” by Halsey “Ya'aburnee means "you bury me." In Arabic however, it represents the idea that you hope the person you love will live longer than you, so you don't have to live without them.”

“Well aren’t you a stunner,” Tommy grinned, looking her over despite her stance giving off the vibe of a wet cat being forced into a room full of children. She shot him a withering stare, glare sharp, but the hostility wasn’t there like usual. Just extreme discomfort. He only kept smiling and she disliked how they were starting to be unaffected by her now that they were getting used to her.

She glowered, hands fidgeting with the material of her dress, feeling bare and uncomfortable outside of pants and entirely weaponless. The dress was snug, fitted to her body, short bell sleeves of all things draped from her shoulders. She hadn’t worn anything fitted in over a decade, hadn’t worn anything other than pants since the Outbreak. Even now she wore whatever she could grab off the floor, whether it be hers or Joel’s or Ellie’s. At this point Joel was complaining about both of them taking his shirts. But Maria had forced the black dress onto her and pushed her into it even after she’d sneered at the ruffled skirt and v-neck that showed more cleavage than she was comfortable with. Tommy’s wife was starting to grow immune to her snapping as well, knowing that for as much as she barked, there was zero bite against her especially while she was pregnant.

She’d brought it on herself and was going to suffer through it. When sandals were brought out, she flat refused. She could fight in a skirt if she needed to but she drew the line at anything other than her boots, no matter how much Maria corrected her that she wouldn’t be fighting at all. This all had been done with much protesting. A lot of protesting. But she’d been at a disadvantage. She had initiated the trade. Maria didn’t need anything from her and therefore didn’t have anything she wanted for the trade she’d been trying to do between them. Instead, the woman had given her another option in the spirit of integration. She had to come to one of Jackson’s monthly gatherings and dress up for it. Literally. She almost walked out. Almost. This felt like a sort of punishment of the worst kind. A punishment for all the stress and fights and problems she’d been at the center of. Maria was trying so hard to force her to be like everyone else and didn’t understand it was like stepping on a pile of sharp, hot blades. It was physically uncomfortable to be around so many people, especially dressed as she was. No armor. No one understood how intense that feeling was except for Joel, even Ellie having a hard time processing sometimes.

Maria grinned smugly in that overly assured way she always did when she thought she knew better and her teeth grit behind thinned lips. She needed Ellie or Joel as a buffer between her and everyone else, not liking the feeling of the attention being on her. But the teenager had already run off to find her new friends and she wasn’t going to hold her back. The older man was nowhere to be seen since working a construction shift.

She was trying. God, was she trying if only for Ellie and Joel’s sake but it was hard getting used to being surrounded and not on edge 24/7. Ellie had made sure to wolf-whistle at her when she’d seen her, now that she knew how, and asked if she was wearing the outfit because she had a concussion. The little shit. She wanted to lay out back with the pigs and die. “Fuck off, It was part of a trade,” she bit out, the words easier in her anger, slightly glaring at them both in an attempt to hide her discomfort, “All this for a damn record player.” Tommy’s brow furrowed and he looked over at his wife with a frown, “Record player? Our record player?” Maria shrugged, “Yeah, we don’t really use it or have any good records for it so I’m trading it to her.” The younger Miller winced, looking between both women almost fearfully though the look he was giving her was far more nervous, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry but I traded that today. I didn’t know-” “You traded it?” her voice cut him off incredulously, irritation and the bitter taste of disappointment on her tongue. Her tone was sharp, cutting, as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, “Seriously? Maria-” Tommy cringed harder, eyes roaming as if to search out Joel or Ellie out of safety, while his wife raised her hands placatingly, “I didn’t know, Red. Listen, I’ll figure something out. I’ll see if someone else has one and I’ll make it right.” She felt stupid. She never asked for anything herself. Never tried to get non-essential items or things just for her. Every trade she had made or request had been for the two people she cared for or the kennels. Join the community, they had said. She tried. If only to keep from getting kicked out and Joel and Ellie from being ostracized because of her. Everyone was still terrified of her and she knew that if she got kicked out, there would be no stopping the two of them from following her no matter how much she protested.

So she tried even when it felt like being skinned alive for their sake.

She’d tried to make bridges between her and Tommy, get along somewhat with Maria and even approached her for a trade. It had felt like she was being choked while doing it, but she had and had then suffered Maria’s ministrations and been forced out of her comfort zone for even a hint of a prize. Had sat there, seething as Maria did her hair and dabbed makeup on her, nails digging into her thigh. Now there was nothing but embarrassment.

Stupid. Fucking stupid. Her cheeks were flush and her chest tight, feelings she never allowed to sink in now flooding her. Embarrassment. She was so embarrassed. She hadn’t felt embarrassed since she was younger, hadn’t cared what people thought of her in the years since the Outbreak but now- the feeling was hot and sticky in her chest.

Spinning away from them with a snarl, she pushed through the crowd of happy people dancing around them having a good time and tried to ignore the flutter of her skirt against her legs and the pressing atmosphere of too many people. Skin bumping against her bare arms, laughter in her ear, the lights too bright. Too many eyes, staring, judging, standing at her back. Their laughter was choking her, the music for once not helping but muffling her ears to the point she couldn’t hear herself think. Panic. It hit her hard and she tried to breathe as she ran for the exit.

It’d been a mistake. She wasn’t the same girl from over twenty years ago who had loved music so much she had forced herself into the spotlight despite her fear and anxiety. Letting Maria dress her up, making her feel like a semblance of that girl again, had been a mistake. That girl had died and needed to stay buried if she was going to survive. She wasn’t bashful, gentle, pretty, or delicate. No, that’d all been beaten out of her over and over and over again by life and everything cruel. The world chewed up those types of people and she hadn’t let it, had gnashed her teeth at it and become something else to survive. Maybe she wasn’t made for settlement life. She wanted to claw the dress off her body and burn it, stick her head in a bucket of water until the makeup ran off. She had let herself want something and got burned for it. At least Joel hadn’t been there to see it all, mock her for playing dress up and see how she lacked in comparison to all the other women he could have. She wasn’t sure if she could handle his laughter. He kept her around because she was ruthless, not because of how she looked, and now she appeared weak. Ellie noticing had been bad enough. She didn’t remember the walk home. Only the press of the fabric constricting her skin, the slight buzz of the electricity overhead, the way her heartbeat was overwhelming in its rapid pace. Her breathing was choked around the panic and rage and embarrassment crawling through her veins and she needed to hide away for a while. The slight squeak of the front steps grated in her ear but pulled her back into herself enough to realize she had made it. She huffed out another annoyed sigh, unlocking the front door. She was going to shower, rinse all the stares and laughter and evidence of her humiliation, and hide in bed. Maybe get up early and take a morning patrol shift if only to clear her head and avoid the looks of all the townspeople that had witnessed her embarrassment, breathe in the woods and the wilderness. Hell, maybe she’d take a dive into the river and let it wash her downstream and away from it all. But as she opened the door, she came to a frozen halt. There was music playing in the living room. The soft crooning of Ella Fitzgerald filled the space, the tune soft and low with only the slightest crackling of a worn speaker. It wasn’t the busted radio Joel had tried to fix that cut out every other second. The lights were low, only a lamp on in the corner, and the music made the space feel so much softer, almost warmer. And there it was. The record player she had made the deal for sitting on the top of a small end table that most of the time was covered in books or tools or gun parts. “Hey,” she could feel Joel’s presence even before he spoke, that part of her mind that always kept track of him no matter where he was in the house or around her. But her eyes were stuck on the record player and the spin of the vinyl, watching the motion hypnotically and flooded by the music. Everything drained from her, leaving her hollow, frozen, empty. Her voice was loud in her ears, a roar in a chasm, but she knew it was barely a whisper in the space between them, “I was going to trade for that.” Joel didn’t reply but she could see him rub the back of his neck out the corner of her eye, the slight wince crossing his face as he tucked a hand into his belt, “Sorry, I got it from Tommy today…I knew you had your eye on one and you’ve been stashing records in the downstairs room with no way to play them. This one even has one of those cassette slots for that tape you keep and I know Bobby who runs the library has a good stash of those-” “Joel, shut up,” she whispered though none of the usual harshness was there. Instead, she was struggling to breathe, to suck in air past the knot in her throat and the stinging feeling in her eyes. He’d gotten it for her. Not for him, but for her. He had noticed the things she did, what she liked, and had done something nice for her. Often the things he did for them were utilitarian in nature though he did more for Ellie. It was how he showed he cared. Fixing Ellie’s window, loading the woman’s packs with everything she might need the night before her morning shifts, getting her new boots when her old ones started to rip. But there was no practical reason for the record player. He knew bits and pieces about her that she had given him, scraps of her life. Knew she had tried to be a singer before the world went to hell and her love of music. Knew that the cassette tape in her bag, the one she’d murdered people to keep from getting a hold of, contained her favorite music her sister had made for her as well as her own voice from a rough band practice Annie had recorded. It’d been a birthday present. Remembered the way she would trace her fingers over the records in the wreckage of stores as they passed through them on the road. He’d watched and cataloged it all and had noticed. He’d always noticed her. “Maria made me dress up in exchange for that,” her voice was raspy, choked, “Stuck me in this stupid dress and forced me to put on makeup and did my hair and made me go to that party. All part of a deal so I could get that player.” Joel was quiet, not interrupting but taking her in. Gauging how best to approach lest she run or snap. She could feel his eyes burning into every inch of exposed skin, to the tightening of her hands and the clenching of her jaw. But slowly he stepped a bit closer, more into the light, with a sigh, “It looks good on you-” “I look fucking stupid, Tex,” the words were spit out aggressively, “I feel ridiculous. They all saw me and there were so many people- But I did it. Then Tommy said he’d already traded it and…I don’t know.” She finally turned to look at him, the words a jumble. She couldn’t even understand what she was trying to convey. The overwhelming feeling of shame and disappointment and panic that had flooded her and made her want to run. She caught the way the light reflected off his eyes, the furrow in his brow and the tightness in his shoulders. He was being careful. Even after all the time they’ve known each other, he knew sometimes to be careful. Not to spook her. “You don’t look stupid,” he muttered gently in an effort to convince her and met her eyes, not breaking eye contact and trying to persuade her to listen, “You…you look beautiful and I’m not just fucking saying that. I wouldn’t lie to you, darlin’. Don’t listen to that voice inside your head, listen to mine and what I’m saying.” She swallowed, heart racing, “Why?” “Why listen to me?” “No, why did you do it? Why did you get it?” The thought weighed heavy, but also was a distraction to keep from focusing on his voice calling her beautiful. It was dumb and meaningless. Placating. He hadn’t mentioned needing a record and had listed things that only pertained to her. She had records, she had been eyeing it. It felt like she owed him a debt, but that thought also sounded like an excuse, the alternative something she couldn’t quite process. The record was ending, the soft music stopping and leaving them only in silence. He stared at her, took in the hard press of her lips, the way her fingers were fidgeting with her dress, the stiffness of her body as if at any second she’d bolt like a wild animal. Maybe she would. She was more animal than woman most days. Joel sighed and chewed on his lip, tasting a hint of blood from the dry cracked skin, “Because I knew it would make you happy.” The scoff that left her mouth was broken, half-hearted. It tasted of excuses and denial. “When have you ever cared about what makes me happy?” “Don’t,” the word was hard and unyielding, almost a snarl, his brow furrowing deeper, “Don’t do that. We’re far, far past that kind of bullshit now, Starshine, and you know it. We’ve been far past that for a good while now. Maybe out there you could have gotten away with that bullshit, but not here and now. Not after everything.” She did know it. But it was the last barrier she could keep between them, a shredded tattered thing to shield herself. The vestiges of that hatred that had burned at the beginning of their relationship so long ago, had stayed long after he started fucking her and then had dissipated when they weren’t looking like a magic trick.

Distrust had turned to respect and then protectiveness behind their backs. She didn’t want to think about what it had turned into next. She’d done so much to keep them both safe because they were hers. She’d burn the whole fucking world down for them, would rip and tear whoever she needed to just to keep them safe, and would smile the whole way. But she and Joel had never spoken out loud what they were. She knew what Ellie was to her, to them both, but between the two adults? That was something else. They were hers and he had said she was his before. But it wasn’t something solid or straight forward. The last tinges of her old self who had been awkward and didn’t know how to navigate dating and relationships still hung on in that aspect, but it was mostly fear. It was a dance she didn’t know the steps to, a language she never learned. She understood sex and family but it’d been so long since she had a relationship and her last had been twisted into something ugly. It was tangled together with her sister, with her death and her screams and the sound of a gunshot. She didn't know how to detangle love from violence. Joel stepped closer and her instinct screamed to run. Her heart was beating like a rabbit caught in a trap, the intimacy almost as frightening as a gun to her head or a Clicker’s teeth. She wasn’t breathing anymore, dressed fisted tightly in her claws. “I know shit’s different here, but unless you have some plans to go back across the country then this is it,” Joel’s accent was thick as he continued to step closer, words direct and to the point, “This is home. This is the place we protect. Ellie, me, and you. And if this is where we’re gonna be I want you to be happy. I want you to have your music, have whatever you want. I’ll fix that guitar and we’ll teach Ellie or I’ll hunt down all those dumb comics she likes so much. Fuck, I’ll be the one to learn to cook if I have to so she stops complaining and so you don’t have to. I’ll let you bring those dogs home whenever you want and maybe let Ellie keep one. I want you happy.” She was choking on her heart, air trapped in her throat and she didn’t know what to do but stand there and shake and listen as Joel painted an image of a life she wasn’t sure she could allow herself to want. “You’re it for me, darlin’,” Joel huffed out a chuckle and shook his head as if disbelieving he was having to tell her outloud, “You and me. I’m not looking at anyone else. I don’t want anyone else. You and Ellie are my purpose and that means I’m going to take care of you both until the day I die. In whatever capacity that means. Whether it continues like we’ve been, continues to a church one day, or out there in the woods without Jackson. It’s us three. I’m not asking you to let your guard down or stop snapping at any dipshit who thinks they can handle you or be some domesticated stepford wife. But I want this place to be home. All of ours.” Her eyes were flickering everywhere else except his own and she wondered if she had ever felt so terrified. Not since the beginning. Not since watching her own version of Ellie get torn to shreds. Not since she’d hollowed everything inside her but the rage and the ugly parts and let it fester into something wild. She’d survived beatings, survived with the worst type of people, survived being a weapon and not once was terrified during those years. Fighting and survival was easy. Killing was easy. Mindless sex was easy. Feelings were not. Feelings got you hurt, got you killed, killed you slowly and made you crazy with worry and the endless possibilities of what could happen. She’d seen Joel wrestle with them. The panic attacks and that numbing fear. There weren’t supposed to be feelings with her and Joel. But that was a lie. They’d been there, deep and hidden under other things. Protecting Ellie. Getting her to the Fireflies. Adjusting to living in Jackson. Jobs and patrol and helping. They were all a distraction. He lifted a hand to her cheek and she couldn’t help the flinch, the shivering as if she was standing in a freezer. But Joel didn’t back off, let her get adjusted and close the distance between them on her own like coaxing a wounded animal to safety. Her hands dropped the now wrinkled fabric of her dress and instead reached out to grip his flannel shirt, relaxing bit by bit while his hand moved to dive into her brushed and slightly curled hair. “You’re mine,” he whispered, feeling the soft strands between his fingers, “Say the word and I’ll get you every damn record player in this town. Whatever makes you happy.” She choked out a laugh that was half a sob, the sound releasing from her throat, and her eyes stung. But she only squeezed them shut, struggling to breath and enjoying the feeling of his touch. His other hand rested over hers on his shirt and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaning against her, “You do look beautiful, baby. I promise. You take my goddamn breath away. It’s a good thing I didn’t see you out there, I’d probably have made an idiot of myself or bashed someone’s face in if I caught them staring.” The laugh that ripped through her seemed to break loose everything choked up inside of her. He called her beautiful. The words sent something close to butterflies in her stomach. It didn’t feel real and this new territory still terrified her, but little sparks of joy lit her way. She had vague memories of feeling this way years ago. But this was real and now and felt so much brighter than her memories. She couldn’t help the slight smile, voice still slightly unsure, “I had to promise Maria I wouldn’t fight anyone there.” Joel chuckled, holding her tighter against his chest, rocking her slightly, “You wouldn’t be breaking your promise if I was doing the fighting.” Looking up at him, she let herself sink into his warmth and lifted a hand to trace the beard along his chin. It used to be that this was the Joel she would get at night only. Slightly teasing, slightly playful, more open especially after sex. A stoic wall in the daytime. Something had shifted after leaving Jackson that first time, after he’d tried to dump them off on Tommy. Shifted more after his injury and Denver. Now as they settled into life in Jackson, she could see fully how at ease he was with her. There had been progressively more smiles in the daytime, more soft touches even if discreetly. Eventually not so discreetly. His hand in her back pocket, his arm around her shoulders, on her back. Starshine morphed from being an insult to an endearment. It had been a slow, gradual change, but it had happened. She had only refused to acknowledge it, maybe out of fear. Now staring at him, she let herself see that more often he was smiling at her than frowning. Only called her Red when he was angry or frustrated otherwise it was Darlin’ or Starshine. His room had quickly turned into their room and every morning he was usually wrapped around her. Was there waiting at the gate everytime she had to leave without him, though he preferred to stay at her side. Tommy had once called all three of them codependent and maybe they were, but they were safest with each other. They were home. So she lifted herself up and drew his face down to her, breathing against his lips and almost tentatively kissing him. Like it was new, like she would have if it was twenty years ago and they were meeting back then. She couldn’t say all of what she was feeling out loud, was too tired to admit how much he had shaken her foundation with this one seemingly small act and then demolished it entirely with his words. So she breathed into him, whispering along his lips, “You’re mine too,” and kissed him softly and hoped he knew everything that entailed. He pressed back against her harder, mouth slotting against hers and groaning. The hand in her hair gripped her neck and pulled her as close as she could get, the other moving to grip her waist and the soft fabric there. She felt unsure, awkward, not used to feelings being between them so openly and the pace being soft versus brutal or fervent. Her fingers trailed over the salt and pepper beard of his chin, the slight wisps of curls at the base of his neck, the muscles of his biceps as they wrapped around her. It was almost an effort not to sink her nails into him, to bite his lips with her teeth. Their steps were fumbling as he walked her backwards until her back hit the living room wall. His hand was roaming all over her, touching the bare skin of her legs and drifting his fingers upward under her skirt. They kneaded the soft skin of her thighs and he moaned into her mouth though that quickly turned into a chuckle as his hands found the pair of shorts she put on under the dress. He looked down, lifting the fabric to peer at the additional clothing underneath, “Did you put shorts on underneath this?” She blushed, swatting his hand to drop the skirt, “Shut up, I felt naked.” Joel chuckled and bent, pressing kisses to the underside of her neck before trailing lower, biting and dragging his lips as he went, “You’re cute when you’re bashful, ya know that? It’s fine. Just one more thing to take off ya.”

Her hands dug into the fabric of his shirt and she was determined not to pout, objecting at being called cute of all things, but quickly found herself melting at his ministrations. The delicious friction of his beard on her skin always did something to her and she was feeling especially sensitive to him, her nerves on fire. Joel bit down on the junction between her neck and shoulder, sucking and teasing the skin, drawing a moan from her mouth. There’d be a mark there, she knew that, and didn’t care. “I wouldn’t mind you wearing dresses more often. Jesus, woman, you’re gorgeous,” he moaned against her skin as he kissed the top of her cleavage. Unconsciously, a yelp left her mouth when he bent down and scooped her up with his hands under her ass, arms flying around his neck and legs crossing around his waist. He grinned at the sound and the flush that heated her cheeks, “I got ya, darlin’. Just wanted to get you to the room before the kid bulldozes in here.” “You are not climbing those stairs with me,” she hissed, looking at the staircase behind them. No matter how strong he was, she also was very aware of both their ages and that if they injured themselves stumbling down the stairs on their way to have sex she’d ask Ellie to put her out of her misery. Joel huffed a laugh, “You’re right, I’m not. We’re using the downstairs room. I’m old, I ain’t stupid.” The spare bedroom on the first floor had quickly become the spare after Joel had complained the handful of times she’d slept down there. Now almost every night she shared the upstairs bed with him lest she wanted to be woken up by him kicking the side of the mattress and grumbling to “get to the room.” It held various things they had scavenged and collected like the guitar Joel had made a project to get to working order, the pieces for it she’d traded along with his craft bench she got for him, her hoarded music, and the various knickknacks she hadn’t wanted to clutter up what she had deemed Joel’s room. Though every now and then the things she put there would somehow appear upstairs, out on full display on top of the shelves and dressers mixed in with his belongings. His own way of making her stuff mingle with his.

He carried her through the door and kicked it shut with her foot, quickly remembering to hit the lock as a precaution after Ellie had almost barged in on them a couple times before. Joel made sure to take advantage of holding her, fingers kneading the soft skin of her ass and keeping her pressed tight against him. With a squeal she hadn’t heard herself make in over two decades, she was dropped down on the small mattress on the far side of the room and he quickly climbed on top, not leaving her alone for even a second. She could feel the delicious pressing of his arousal through his jeans, the way he ground it against her core making her groan. His mouth found hers, frantic and eager, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and diving into the soft graying curls of his hair. She loved to feel the weight of him on her, the hard press of him steady and assuring. Hands quickly tugging his shirt out from his jeans, she felt the heat of his skin and the ridge of every scar she had cataloged by that point. Bullet grazes, knife slices, the puckered edge of that brutal stabbing that had almost taken him away from them. She knew them all, had kissed and licked every single one and memorized them.

Joel Miller’s body was a thing of beauty, not softening even with age or settlement life. He’d quickly taken up a position in the community he knew how to do well. Construction. It kept him active, in shape, working with his hands and that meant he was still covered in muscle from a hard day's work. It was also why she wasn’t surprised when he had gained the attention of most of the women in Jackson, especially now that he had softened up personality wise. But he’d chosen her. Was kissing her, currently worshiping her mouth and trailing those rough fingers along her arms to intertwine with hers together. It was her that was making him moan and pant her name. Not her name. That name, the one given to her at birth by a woman who didn’t care who she was, had been given to the woods and the bodies she’d left behind. No, he whispered the name they had given her. The only name that mattered now as if she was baptized into this new life the moment she’d met them and been given it.

Red. Starshine. Darlin. Theirs. His. Her fingers pressed into the skin of his back and she hooked her legs around his, welcoming him to settle between her thighs while she poured everything into kissing him. She swallowed each sound, welcomed the burn of his beard against her skin, feeling arousal shoot straight through her and pool at her core. When she went to unbuckle his belt, he paused her movement and pulled back, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and the deep V of her dress, “Not yet. I wanna savor this dress on you. Show you exactly how beautiful I think you are.” She bit her lip at the heated look, the slight smirk as he sat up, hands roaming over her thighs. Her own insecurities turned her nervous and she struggled to keep eye contact as his hands found the waistband of her shorts and pulled them down and off of her. He chuckled and threw them across the room, “Next time you wear something like this, you can go without those…if I’m feeling generous and let you leave the house.” “Let me, huh?” she whispered, bottom lip still between her teeth. Joel bent down and pushed the skirt of her dress up, bunching it around her waist, “Can’t have other men wanting what’s mine.” He took his time, tracing the edges of her underwear teasingly, the rough pads of his fingers sending small shocks through her in anticipation. Ever so slowly, he pulled her panties off her legs and knelt between her thighs, leaving heated kisses against the skin. She swallowed, mouth dry, and let out an airy chuckle, “Better watch it, Miller.” He paused, dark eyes meeting hers, “What’d I say about my name, Starshine?” Smirking and remembering that night so long ago when he had fucked her in the abandoned store, the night that cemented the path they would take, she raised herself up on her elbows and stared down at him, “Joel.” And then his tongue was on her, parting her folds and licking up every bit of her arousal. A moan tore from her mouth, head falling back as he devoured her whole, lips sucking on her clit and teasing her desperately. His hands palmed her bare ass and the thick meat of her thigh, fingers bruising as he teased her with his tongue. Joel had always been so good at that, something she had gotten intimately familiar with once they had settled down and were able to finally have time to explore one another. No longer having to have quick blind fucks in the dark, one ear open to danger or Ellie waking up. She didn’t think he even got to see her with her clothes fully off until they made it back to Jackson. But now that they had time he made sure each moment lasted. He played her like his guitar, pulling sounds from her mouth unbidden with each flick of his fingers and tongue. Joel Miller was good with his hands and knew exactly what to do to make her come hard and fast when he wanted her to. But he was taking his time, bringing her to the edge then slowing down before doing it over and over again. She was never one to beg, but she could feel the plea on her mouth as she ached all over for release and overwhelmed by the sensitivity. She panted his name in desperation and could feel him grin against her, mouth glistening with herself, “Tell me what you want, darlin’. Come on.” So fucking cocky, this asshole. She was tempted to swallow her words, swallow her own tongue just to be defiant. But then he dipped his tongue into her, the flat plane of it sending shockwaves through her body and she growled, “Fucking make me come already.” He laughed at the not so gentle plea as if knowing she wouldn’t mewl and beg like he wanted, shaking his head, “So bossy.” But she didn’t care after that because he was sucking her clit between his lips and his fingers were pumping into her, hard and fast, curling into the exact spot that made her see stars. The friction of his beard on her, his tongue, his hands were all so much and she was overwhelmed, body made of fire and lighting searing every nerve. She came against his mouth, orgasm hitting her hard enough it took her breath away. Her body felt like it was floating, Joel’s careful hands keeping her from washing away, gentle lips leaving soft kisses along her thigh. A thrill went through her at the gentle affirmations and breathy, “good girl,” he whispered into her skin. She was still catching her breath, but could feel him locate the zipper on her dress and he helped her to sit up to pull it up. So gentle with her like she was the most valuable thing in the world. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and slowly she undid them, feeling his eyes on her as he kneeled between her thighs. His hands never left her skin, trailing softly over her calf but letting her take her time. Each layer came off of him. Shirt, undershirt, belt, jeans. He let her unveil him like it was a ritual. And when he was naked before her, both of them bare and heart open, his hands cradled her cheeks when he kissed her. It was more intimate than anything she had ever felt and was as if he was cradling her raw heart between his hands. It was fire and fear and joy and so much and yet not enough. It was an I love you without words. She pulled him down on top of her and deepened the kiss, tongue swirling to lick up every bit of herself and devour his own taste. Everything that made him Joel. Her gasp was swallowed as he started to push into her, groaning at how tight and warm she felt, thighs slick with the aftermath of her orgasm. Her forehead was pressed against his and she drank down every little sound his mouth made, every hitched breath, watching as his lashes flickered against his cheeks. The pace was slow, building, and she hooked her legs around his calves to usher him deeper, wanting him to fill her up as much as he could. “Fuck, baby,” Joel groaned, fingers tightening on her thigh while the other intertwined with the hand above her head. She held onto him like her life depended on it and let her drown in him, gave him the control and simply held on. Trusted him. Each stroke was a lightning strike and she could feel the way he was slowly losing himself in her, the pace becoming faster and thrusts more aggressive. Her orgasm was climbing, pleasure tightening low in her belly, skin hot with sweat. Her hand clenched his, almost a sign to him, and he broke at last. His mouth collided with hers, tongue against her own, teeth biting into her lips. Joel pounded into her relentlessly, her name on his lips and hold bruising. This was how she liked him best. Passionate and uncontrollable, a fucking tornado to be reckoned with. She’d seen it only when it came to them. Whether it be protecting them or destroying everything in his path to get to them. Joel was as much a beast as her at times but she’d always accepted that, never shied away.

Like calls to like.

Both their orgasms were building together, crashing into one another as if their bodies knew. Every tense moment, every decision and fight and fuck and choice, had led them together and she felt it in her whole being that this was who she was supposed to find at the end of the road. Her eyes squeezed shut and she let go, letting her be pulled under by him and their bodies and everything that had come before and would come later. It was fireworks and electricity and everything as her orgasm hit and she moaned hard into his mouth, feeling him release inside of her, warm and full. He would always follow her over the edge and the thought made her eyes sting.

They were panting, breathing each other in, bodies sweaty and sticky and the cooling air doing nothing against heated skin. She opened her eyes and met his dark irises, watching her intently, and she couldn’t help but grin at him wide. His breath caught and he swallowed hard, hand leaving her thigh so he could trace the crinkles around her eyes. He caressed the skin with his thumb in reverie, drawing out a blush even after everything they had just done. It was new to feel so exposed. A second later they could hear the front door crash open followed quickly by the familiar stomps of Ellie entering the house, kicking the door shut even after they had told her a million times to stop doing that. They froze, eyes locked on each other, waiting to see if she would call for them or try to enter the downstairs room for some reason. But they could track her loud steps up the stairs and a bit later her door shut.

It was hard to believe she ever used to be good at walking silently out beyond the walls. They both breathed a sigh of relief and then chuckled only for Joel to quickly hiss, pressing his face against her neck as she unconsciously clenched around him, “Darlin’ don’t laugh while I’m still in you.” She had to try and keep another chuckle in, a first for her, knowing it would only make her do it again. Teasingly, she did it on purpose one more time only for him to bite her shoulder and she yelped, letting laughter take over her once he had pulled out. He chuckled as well, pressing small kisses all over her skin. It would take time to get used to all the new. The new change in their dynamic, the open feelings, the music, the softness, the laughter and smiles, the fear that came with it all. Lifting your armor can leave you vulnerable but without doing so there was no way the joy could get in as well. And she couldn’t live her life without them, would brave every horror imaginable for them.

She’d take it all if it meant she got to keep both of them. ______________________________________

Feral Reader Tag List:

@alouise20 @faceache111 @hawsx3 @taxidriversainz @iluvbunnyhops @mrfitzdarcyslover @emlovesya @agent007knight @spaacerabbit @namgification @wonwoosthetic @wxnderingthoughts @sagggy @escaping-reality8 @badwolf00593 @themothersmercy @mxtokko @happinessinthebeing@taranicristeard @aroacefanenby @barbellpedro

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x feral reader #joel miller imagine #series: feral #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic #tlou #the last of us #joel miller #feral reader #raicodoll writes #in case you haven't noticed but the last Halsey album is basically Red's whole vibe

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saintsir4n · 7 months ago

Text

MORE SHELBY’S

when eden meets michael grey

—

1921

“Oh Michael, this is your cousin-in-law, Eden.”

Polly proudly introduced her to her son, she clutched him tightly as he sheepishly fiddled with the cufflinks of his cheap suit. Eden waddled in with the help of Tommy, her bump was big and she was ready to give birth in days, everyone knew it.

Arthur and John snickered once they saw the astonishment on Michael’s face. Their young cousin knew that Tommy, the head of the family had a wife, but she didn’t know what she looked like, every time he asked his mum… Polly, she answered, like one of the few people to rein your wild cousins in. It was the understatement of his fucking life, and Eden was truly a stunner.

“I can’t be that big can I?” Eden asked, with a smile. “Tommy, you said I wasn’t that big.”

“You look beautiful alright,” Tommy rushed out, with a hand resting on her back.

“She’s carrying another Shelby in there Michael,” Arthur nodded to his sister-in-law.

John clasped his hands together, “Here’s praying it’s a fuckin’ boy.”

“There’s already too many of you lot,” Eden scoffed, then stepped forward, feeling Tommy’s eyes on her as she stood before Michael.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nervously shook her hand, immediately thinking he maybe should’ve kissed her cheek or hugged her but, his cousin didn’t look like he would let her go. “Another Shelby?”

Before she could respond, Arthur did.

“Apart from John’s kin, Ada’s little one, you've got another cousin, little ankle biter,” he teased, earning a small smile from his cousin.

“Inara, spittin’ image of Eden but with Tommy’s eyes,” Polly informed her son, as Eden sat down with Tommy assisting.

Their six-year-old daughter was about to be seven, inquisitive and cheeky she was, whenever Inara would get grumpy she’d look like her father but whenever she was lively and joyful she was the very picture of her mum.

“Yeah, she’s a brat,” John’s words made the married couple snap their heads in his direction.

“Oi, you don’t want to compare children,” Tommy pointed out.

“Not with your roster Johnny,” Eden quipped, making the room chuckle.

John rolled his eyes, “Fuck off.”

Eden pointed at him, “You do not want to rile me up, It could induce labour you pillock and I’m not givin’ birth here.”

“Yeah, leave it John boy, you do not wanna see a kid come out of her,” Arthur said through his laughter.

Tommy playfully glared, “Stop talkin’ about my missus and my baby.”

Michael sat back, amused by the bickering. As first impressions go, he was pleasantly overwhelmed, the men were playing with their guns like toys before Tommy settled them. It was obvious Tommy ran things, he was the one who Michael first met. Tommy was confidant, powerful and very dangerous, that was clear, but his wife was something else. A beautiful woman, but to put up with this family, she had to have something up her sleeve.

“Where is Inara?” Michael asked, breaking the arguments flooding the room.

“She’s with my mum,” Eden spoke softly, stroking her bump.

“‘Nara threw a strop yesterday, sayin’ she didn’t want another sibling,” John stated.

Tommy huffed out a smile, “Well it’s too late for that.”

“She’s fuckin’ gettin’ one,” Eden agreed. “You’ll meet her soon Michael,” for the first time she looked at the boy, really looked at him, she saw his eyes, the detail swimming in his iris’, “My god you look so much like your mum.” She found herself choking back sobs, missing the joy on Polly’s face but catching the shock flashing across Michael’s. “Sorry, anythin’ and everythin’ gets the tears flowin’.”

John wasn’t shocked, “Cried over some flowers dyin’ didn’t you Edie?”

“Watch it,” Tommy warned, rubbing a hand over her back as she wiped her tears.

“Last week it was a candle blowin’ out.”

“And next time it’ll be a knife in your face,” Eden snapped, groaning at their laughter.

Michael was startled by the threat.

“There’s my girl,” Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek before she pushed him away. “Pol, can you boil the kettle,” he noted the pot of tea was bare as were the cups.

Polly nodded, knowing how much Eden drank during her first pregnancy, her second was even worse.

Michael gulped, although no one apart from Tommy caught it. The teen lowered himself into a seat as his mother scolded his cousins for their poor habits, claiming she didn’t want him to mirror them.

“You should meet Isaiah, he’s around your age Michael,” Eden said, sending a look toward Tommy. “It’ll be good for you to make a friend.”

Michael nodded, listening to whatever advise he could take, eyes darting between Eden, trying not to get caught looking at her too much, and so he would look toward his cousin Tommy, who stroked her large bump and then his mum who returned with a cup and the steaming kettle fresh from the fire.

He occasionally heard the mumbles from his other two cousins — Finn and Ada, he hadn’t met yet — John and Arthur snickered off to the side, still stood up as if they were waiting to leave.

“… friends, what’s the point? They might end up like Eden and Grace,” Arthur whispered, quite harshly to his younger brother.

John’s mood soured at the mention, “That bloody barmaid.”

They knew not to mention Grace around Eden. Their sister-in-law fought she found a friend ever since Enzo and Martha passed and Dorris moved to London, but was a huge mistake. The Irish Woman’s betrayal caused the hole in Eden’s heart to grow as did her paranoia.

Tommy felt he should’ve protected her more, but he trusted Grace as a friend, especially since he didn’t have many female friends. But it costed him a bullet to the shoulder.

Even with Lizzie, Esme and Dorris from a far he was wary about everyone who surrounded the family, even if they were family.

Tommy was constantly thinking. Always.

“That won’t happen with Michael. Isaiah is loyal, you’ve seen him, Eden practically raised the boy,” John said quietly. “He’s Jimmy’s son.”

“I ain’t worried, we just have to be careful, not everyone’s a friend alright,” Arthur muttered, knowing that Isaiah wasn’t the one he didn’t trust.

“But family is family.”

The two broke apart to see Tommy right behind them. They didn’t even hear him move.

“Fuck, Tom,” John cursed, eyeing him.

“Keep your bloody trousers on,” Tommy scoffed, “you ready to go?”

“‘Course Tom,” Arthur nodded, shoving John forward, “you need to wear a fuckin’ bell on ya.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tommy smirked, then turned back to to the table, to see Eden sipping on some tea with a pensive look on her face. He pressed a kiss to her head as he stared at his Aunt, “Make sure he treats my Edie well, Pol.”

“Get going,” Eden playfully shoved Tommy away just as he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Don’t worry Michael, we’ll be back to show you, what’s what,” John grinned.

Polly gasped, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Let’s leave ‘em boys,” Arthur said, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the tea party.”

That had John snickering.

Michael smiled, watching as Tommy scanned Eden again.

The pregnant woman waved at him, “Bye, my love.”

“Darlin’, stay safe,” Tommy didn’t want to leave her for too long. “The both of you, alright.” He was pulled away by his brothers as he nodded at the mother-son duo, “Pol, Michael.”

When the door slammed shut behind them, Michael coyly smiled at his mum.

“They seem nice.”

Eden and Polly laughed.

The latter spoke, “They’re anythin’ but.”

Eden agreed, “But they’re your family, so got used to it.”

——

a/n:

I was thinking what if Eden met Michael before his corruption… so season 2.

#wattpad #fanfic #black reader #edenshelby #tommyshelby and edendawkins #eden dawkins #edendawkins #John Shelby #Arthur Shelby #tommyshelby story #tommy shelby x black reader #Tommy Shelby x black!reader #michael gray #polly gray #1921 #peaky blinder headcanon #peakyblinders fic

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hockeyandhrsepwr · 2 years ago

Text

Off the Sea

Charles Leclerc x yachtie reader

CharlesLeclerc

Charlesleclerc Big thanks to RivaYacht for the fun this summer (and yntakestheseas)

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yntakestheseas Are you thanking me for fun too or thanking them for me?? #Confuzzled

LandoNorris I mean, you did meet because of them

ArthurLeclerc true dat

yntakestheseas no one asked you gremlins

Charlesleclerc be nice to the children!

Bestie you should be thanking me for convincing her to give you a chance

yntakestheseas It didn’t take much convincing

Bestie Babe, i remember differently

yntakestheseas 🤫, he thinks he has swag.

Joris Doesn't even give me photo creds

yntakestheseas Thanks for the photos J!! 📸Always happy to have you around

Joris at least someone appreciates me 👍

Charlesleclerc

Charlesleclerc 4 years of bliss. Happy Anniversary mon amour 💕💕

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yntakestheseas Happy anniversary lover boy 🫶❤️

Fan4 4 Years!?

yntakestheseas we were trying to be private, and it would’ve worked too if it wasn’t for that meddling gossip account!

Charlesleclerc did you just steal a villain speech from Scooby Doo?

yntakestheseas and what if I did?🤨

CarlosSainz55 The two of you are sickeningly cute

yntakestheseas aw, thanks buddy 😘

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas guys help me to convince Charles that we need this

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Charlesleclerc babe stop being ridiculous

yntakestheseas just imagine how cool we'll look whipping around the port in this bad boy!!

Charlesleclerc who is we? Because it sure as hell won’t be me

PierreGasly I vote yes, but just so I can make fun of him

ScudderiaFerrari Its a yes from us!

Fan847 omg please!

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas Monaco nights with Bestie

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Bestie never a dull moment with you!!

yntakestheseas you know you love it

LandoNorris next time don't drag me out with you

Bestie you begged to be invited

CharlesLeclerc God my girl is a stunner 😍

yntakestheseas she is isn’t she?

PierreGasly did you seriously just compliment yourself?

Yntakestheseas if you’ve got it flaunt it. And says you mr photo dump

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas Cheers to the best crew ever, I’m gonna miss you guys

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Stew2 best boss ever

yntakestheseas Aw, I love you sm!!

BoatCapJoe sure I can’t convince you to come back?

yntakestheseas not this time Joe!! Its been amazing working with you over the last 3 years though

BoatCapJoe We’ll miss you but you’re moving on to better things!!

Deck37 Will miss working & nights out with you!

yntakestheseas ill miss you too!! We’ll catch up next time you’re around

User74 what do you do for the winter when yachting? I’m interested in the industry!

yntakestheseas a lot of yachties go and do the Caribbean season which starts around November, do other seasonal jobs like skiing or go home until the following April. I personally stick around Europe (there is still work) and usually end up doing couple of trips to Dubai or the Seychelles, it really just depends on who you work for! But good luck! Its a great job to have

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas yacht girl summer

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PierreGasly isn’t every summer technically that for you?

yntakestheseas yes but no.

Bestie girlie is thriving

yntakestheseas its a hard life. Although the service is a bit shit

ArthurLeclerc thats rude

yntakestheseas you dropped a whole bottle of champagne on me! And a cup of coffee

ArthurLeclerc THAT WASNT ME!!

yntakestheseas well it wasn’t a ghost

CharlesLeclerc Sure it wasn’t ArthurLeclerc

F1fan so she’s just using Charles for his money then?

Fan23 let her live, she clearly has worked hard

yntakestheseas actually babe, I had a week off because the boat I work on needed some repairs which is why I decided to join my boyfriend on holiday if thats okay with you?

Ferrari23 ooh, get them queen

twitter

F1gossip

The New F1 season is getting underway as drivers head to Bahrain. The question on everyone mind, will we get a Y/N sighting in the paddock this year? Since her relationship with the Ferrari driver was exposed this past summer, can we expect our favourite stewardess to make an appearance & support her boyfriend?

F1 Gossip

Well folks, we're into May now and no y/n sightings. is there trouble in paradise for the fan favourite couple?

Fan56 dude they were private for nearly 4 years. just because she hasn't been spotted doesn't mean they've broken up.

f1user omg just let her exist in peace!! she's probably working

yntakestheseas

yntakestheseas This'll be the first summer since I started yachting at 18 that I'm not on a boat, but 9 years later it’s time for a new adventure with my favourite person by my side 🫶

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Charlesleclerc no one I’d rather do this with mon amour

Ferrarifan84 Oh my god what!!!

Bestie Mama mode!!! Can't wait to meet the little one

yntakestheseas They can't wait to meet favourite auntie!!

Aurthurleclerc Favourite uncle loading!

Lorenzotl sure

PierreGasly dibs on godfather!

Carlossainz55 I don’t think so mate

CharlesLeclerc it’s neither of you

SebastianVettel Congratulations! You’re going to be amazing parents

yntakestheseas Thank you Seb!!

LandoNorris Can I babysit!!

yntakestheseas absolutely not

LewisHamilton Can I?

yntakestheseas Absolutely, as long as Roscoe comes to visit

LandoNorris 😮

Fan565 dad Charles era!!!!

F1gossip holy crap

Estebanocon Congrats!!!

yntakestheseas Merci Estie<3

ScudderiaFerrari New driver to sign!! Congratulations guys

Pascale_leclerc grateful he found you & can’t wait to welcome them into the world

yntakestheseas Love you Pascale!! Youre going to be the best grandma to little bean

Ferrarifan not what I expected but a slay nevertheless

xxx

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #jjs insta edits #formula 1 imagine #f1 instagram au #formula one

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nicolesainz · 2 years ago

Text

I miss you, I’m sorry (MM 19)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, and as usual, fluff

Summary: Mason & you, have been best friends since the very first second. Although the bond wants to be broken by his girlfriend, who tries everything to achieve so (4.3k words)

I never thought one would be capable of holding on their heart that big amount of love for someone else. Especially one, who has already handed their heart to another. But you still are determined to give them your heart no matter the way.

Mason and I have known each other from the very first second we came into this world. His mother and mine, being lifelong best friends and giving birth, a month apart on the same date. We have been inseparable. The bond out mothers have passed into us and we have been the ‘trouble’ duo ever since.

Together in kindergarten and all the way from first graders to seniors. To our disadvantage, Mason had to leave England, as he was a lone to Vitesse in the Netherlands. They were the toughest months away from him. Whenever I could and had the money to do so, I visited him and watched all his games.

“Don’t waste your money on me, love” he would always say but secretly, he enjoyed me being there. He was lonely and I could tell.

“I always prefer to have you around than anyone else” he would say after our lengthy hug.

When he came back, everything was better, for the most part. We would see each other, but not always. My daily visits to his house or his to mine, became frequent to non-existent.

We would only meet at family gatherings and I kept my distance at every moment, mostly hanging with Lewis, Jaz or Declan. After he came back from Holland, he brought along a girlfriend, Chloe.

She seemed really sweet and kind, towards everyone. But apparently, I was her ‘substitute’, keeping her ‘seat’ warm.

That was the first honest thing she said to me. And the last ever.

I didn’t want to be an intruder so I took a step back and became a watcher of Mason’s life, instead of a part. Even though he would always text, call and give me box tickets for the Chelsea games, I turned them down.

I secretly went to the games, but in an attire, and under a fake name, away from the box, so I wouldn’t be noticeable. I would cheer silently and then leave immediately.

During the match with Norwich, which was Mason’s absolute stunner, having scored a hat trick, I was noticed by Lewis, who afterwards texted me.

“You shouldn’t have to do that. We’d tell we invited you.”

I would also get frequent questions by Jaz, Declan and Reece, as to why I didn’t attend the games, when the only one who knew the truth was Lewis.

“Either he’s blind, or she’s put him under a spell. I can’t tell you anything else”

Declan told me from the other line of the phone. 2020 had welcomed us with the virus and we were all isolated, unable to visit or come in contact.

“He says you’ve been dodging his calls and texts. You even unfollowed him on Instagram. What happened to the ‘trouble’ duo?”

“The only trouble apparently is me and to their relationship. That’s why I’ve been on hiatus. If I even dare to text him a ‘hello’, I’d be found dead the next minute”

“I want my old gang back. I don’t like this. Mason barely gives me attention! We went to vacation before the pandemic hit and even Lauren noticed that something was off”

“If she wasn’t attached to his hip, we would have arranged a secret meet up”

“I’ll do it and I don’t give a penny what she-“

“Who are you talking to?” Mason’s voice echoed across the line, silencing both me and Declan. It has been ages since I last heard his voice. I miss him, like crazy.

“Uh-no one. Just booking a table”

Declan’s phone was on his hand, visible to who he was talking to. Obviously I wasn’t aware of that, unable to react.

“Wait, that’s-“ and I immediately shut the line.

I threw my phone away and muffled my tears on my pillow. Under other circumstances, I would have Mason by my side, laughing our hearts out, feeling comfortable and at home.

Now, I’m alone, with my only company being Netflix and my bathtub. Mason’s existence was something unreachable and forbidden and forgotten.

Mason’s POV

“What the fuck Dec? Why were you taking to Y/N? What’s going on?” I was furious! How could she call him but ignore my texts?

“You know this isn’t my doing! Don’t blame me, mate” He rolled his eyes and he got up from the couch and stuffed his phone in his back pocket.

“Whose is? I surely don’t remember offending her or -“ I got interrupted abruptly by Declan when he said,

“You’re that blind, aren’t you?” He raised his voice and was at the point of opening the front door.

“What am I too blind to see? That she’s the one who’s been avoiding me ever since I came back from Holland!” I grab his arm and push the door shut!

“That this is all Chloe’s doing!” He lets out without blinking and looking directly into my eyes.

“What? That’s impossible. They barely talk. I mean, sure, Chloe would get jealous, but she would never be the reason Y/N is distant” How could he blame Chloe? And why is he?

“As you said, they barely talk. And when they do, Chloe does it all, because she’s trash talking the woman who’s been by your side since day fucking one! Who has spent all her pocket money to come and see you play in another country! Who was off-limits to me when I told you that she is cute back in eleventh grade! Who looks at you as if you’re the only man in the room! Who would do anything for you”

Declan’s words were like a thousand cuts covering my entire body and heart. Like sharpened knifed attacking me for my mistakes that, indeed, I was too blind to see.

What if this actually was all Chloe’s doing and I didn’t want to admit it.

I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. This was very wild and hard to swallow. Did my own girlfriend want to tear me apart from my lifelong best friend? From the woman that I’d risk it all? From the woman who was the reason I didn’t want to leave England for The Netherlands?

“Talk to her. Reach out to her. She’s been hurting and you don’t even notice. It’s your call mate. I’m sorry I can’t help much. It a decision you have to make” Declan grabbed me by my shoulders and try to reason me. And he was right. I should do something.

A few hours after Declan left, I heard keys unlocking the front door and non-stop talking from Chloe. I think it’s time.

“Okay, gotta go. I’m back home. Kisses” she said hanging up to whoever she was talking with. I put down my controller and moved towards her.

“Hey baby. How was your day?” She went to kiss me but I simply held her hands back and moved my head towards the other direction.

“Are you sick? Is everything okay?” She asks, with her eyebrow being raised at me.

“No. I’m fine. What about you?” I reply bluntly, removing myself from her embrace.

“No! Something’s wrong. You usually won’t get off me. Or leave me like this. Got something to tell me?” She bites back at my answer.

“Maybe you’ve got something to tell me. Something that you’ve been keeping or doing behind my back for years!” I raise my voice, more than I should.

“You’re crazy Mase. I don’t know what to say. I’ve been doing nothing! Who told you so?” She drops her bag from her hand and crosses her arms.

“I won’t tell you shit, unless you give me a good reason as to why Y/N has distanced herself the past 2 years and I barely see her!” The moment I say those words, guilt instantly takes over me. I’ve been at fault too. I barely reach out to her.

“You’re not serious, are you? What do I have to do with her problem? It’s not my fault she’s jealous of us. I think it’s basic politeness rule not to interfere with one’s relationship”

“I think you’re not the serious one, Chloe! She doesn’t come to my games. Never replies my calls or texts. Only talks to my teammates or Declan. Is only around Jaz or Lewis when we have family gatherings and you never bother greeting her, nor being nice. And whenever you approach her, she ends up alone, shutting herself”

And once I realize that all this has been happening in front of my eyes, I instantly regret not having act quicker and more smartly. Because if I had, lots of this could have been avoided and our lives would have been completely different.

“You’re blaming me, because she’s a loner and only hangs out with your friends, just to find someone to spend the night?”

I wanted to throw up at the thought of Y/N, being with another man, who could give her less than she deserves. And I felt ashamed to be with a woman who characterizes my best friend as merely a hooker.

“We’re done! You’ve crossed the line, Chloe. I can’t do this anymore. I would never think that you’d be capable of doing so to someone who has never hurt you in any way! And I can’t be with someone who offends my best friend like that”

In any other occasion, I would have felt bad or my heart slowly cracking. Right now, I feel nothing. I feel empty and with no emotion coming out of me in any way.

“If you wanna break up, because of her, fine. Go fuck her. Let’s see how much of a success you’ll have after you’ll find one of your buddies under her sheets”

I swallowed hardly and went back to the room to pick up my stuff, which thankfully weren’t a lot to gather. I left my keys to her couch and left. I couldn’t bare being next to her another moment after what she’s said and done.

“Maybe she’ll love me more than you ever did. Maybe she’ll appreciate me more. Maybe she won’t judge me after every bad perforce and just comfort me instead of ignore me. And when she does, I’ll know, if made the right choice”

I say and shut the door behind me. I pick up my phone and scroll to my contacts until I find Y/N’s name. When I do, I click on it immediately.

“Can we please meet? I need to see you!” I type but if I said it in front of her, I’d have a more pleasing look in my eyes and voice.

My heart was beating very fast. Waiting for her response. In the meantime, I ask Kai if I can stay at his house for the night. Thankfully, neither him or Sophia had a problem with it.

“Care to share what happened between you and Chloe?” Sophia asks me as she takes the bag from my hands

“Soph, don’t be nosy. He’ll tell us himself” Kai said as he closed the door.

“It’s okay. I would have told you one way or another, it being the reason why I’m here. And thank you for letting me stay. I’ll be out of your way in the morning” I thank my friends for their gratitude and help.

“You’re always welcome, Mase. More people for Kai to play FIFA with, so he doesn’t get annoyed with me when I’m losing”

“That’s not-Hey! I don’t get annoyed. Don’t be mean. And of course, mate, you’re welcome to stay for as long as you want”

“Did she hurt you? Can we help anyhow?” Sophia softly rubs my arm as she takes a seat in front of me and Kai next to me.

“Has Y/N, told you anything as to why she’s been distant from me?”

Both of them went silent. Sophia lowered her head and Kai was trying to form a sentence through his mumbling.

“So everyone saw, besides me? I’m such a fucking idiot” I facepalm myself and shove my face in my hands.

“Don’t say that Mason. It wasn’t your fault. She’s the one who made Y/N feel bad for being around you and wanted to get rid of her in any possible way”

“Who could have imagined that their girlfriend would plan such a scheme because she was possessive?” Kai points out and Sophia nods agreeing.

“Has Y/N said anything about me the past few months or even at all?” My attention turns to Sophia, who surely knows more than Kai at the moment.

I needed to know what Y/N’s feelings were towards me. I wanted to apologize for everything that had happen and change the way of things. I wanted a fresh start and I wanted her by my side again.

“She has eyes for no one but you. Convincing her to do otherwise was a lost case. She loves you more than anyone. And she was willing to let Chloe hurt her, if she could still love you from distance”

I was playing with fire all this time. I should have said something when my heart had her name carved on it, before someone else stepped on it.

My phone buzzed on my jeans out of nowhere. I take it in my hand and I start shaking as I see that Y/N has replied to my text.

“I don’t think we should Mason. It’s kinda difficult”

My heart sinks at the message and I drop my phone on the table, throwing my head back.

“I’ve bottled this. I had since the first moment. I should have told her I love her before I left for Vitesse but it would have complicated things. Fucking idiot”

“Do you want us to talk to her? Maybe arrange something without her knowing you’ll be there?” Kai looks at Sophia, knowing that she’ll convince Y/N to meet with them.

“She will hate me. She probably won’t talk to me ever again if things go south. But I want both of you to be happy. And I know that if you two are together, you can be the happiest version of yourselves” she replies, grabbing her phone from the kitchen and calling Y/N’s number.

The moment I hear her voice, a tear escapes my eye and my heart cracks slowly. What had I done?

“Hey Soph. Everything okay?”

“Yes babe. Can I ask a favor though?”

“Sure. Anything you want!”

“Can you come over? Is it too late?”

“Uh no. It’s fine. Are you sure nothing happened?”

“Y/N, come save me please. She’s making me pick dress for your next get-out. Too many outfits are on the bed” Kai makes the situation more convincing, as Sophia doesn’t know what excuse to use.

“Oh stop whining Kai. I’ll come. Give me 20 minutes and I’ll be over. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“No, love! Just your help. Thank you immensely!” Sophia gulps hardly, hating for lying to her friend.

“No problem. See you soon” and Y/N hangs up.

“I owe you Soph! Whatever you want. And you too buddy”

“I just want you two together. I’ll be happy with just that” the woman pats me softly on the back.

As time went by, I became more and more anxious. I didn’t know how she would react. What she would say. Would she be mad? Angry? Sad? Disappointed?

My stomach was tied up and I was nauseous. I didn’t want to mess things up again. She was deserving of the best and if I didn’t give that to her, someone surely would. And I’ll be standing there, looking at how happy she is with someone who isn’t me. With someone who can also hurt her. But I hurt her too. So it’s selfish of me to think so.

I remember when she had come at one of my last games for Vitesse, before transferring to the senior Chelsea team. I was beyond happy, and had even scored two goals. Probably one of my favorite nights ever.

FLASHBACK

“AND MASON MOUNT SCORES WITH THE CROWD GOING ABSOLUTELY WILD FOR HIM. WHAT A BALLER!” Y/N imitates the commentators and what could have been my first goal for Chelsea at the senior team.

I applause her and she bows gracefully as she lands back next to me on the couch. She seems so radiant and happy. And I couldn’t be more thankful for her.

“You know, you should really be a pundit, or a commentator. I heard Sky Sports are looking for one”

“No. I’m fine where I am. Plus, I like being a personal commentator. Not for the public!”

“Oh. So I get to enjoy you all to myself? Those amazing commentating skills?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Mount. But yes, you do. Be proud of that”

“I am. I’ll cherish that for as long as possible”

“Don’t worry. You’ll hear me commenting for the rest of your life. I’m not going anywhere”

“I damn hope you aren’t. If you won’t allow the public to appreciate your skills, at least let me”

“That’s what I plan on doing. Whether you like it or not”

“I think you can tell from the expression on my face what I think”

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person alive?”

“I’ll enjoy getting used to hear that too then”

“Oh shut up prima donna”

“You’re my favorite person to Y/N. And that will never change. No one can ever take your place”

“Glad to hear we’re on the same page. Because no one will never take your spot. And I will never allow them too”

That was when I realized I love her. And I shouldn’t have let her slip my hand. I don’t usually regret things in life. But I did on this occasion.

END OF FLASHBACK

The doorbell rings and my heart stops beating. Shit, she’s here. And I feel as if I’m being drowned in my own feelings and overwhelmingness. What is this?

This is love, you dipshit.

“Ready Mase?” Sophia says with a trembling voice as her hand reaches for the knob of the door.

“As I’ll ever be” I reply and the door opens with a bright looking Y/N, showing up, beautiful as ever. I may not had seen her in months but I could never forget how breathtaking she’s always been.

“Hey guys. I’m here to help” her sentence finishes as soon as it starts when her eyes fall on me. She stops on her tracks and words don’t dare come out of her mouth.

Fear takes over my body and I instantly regret everything. We wouldn’t have been in this situation if it wasn’t for my stupidity.

“I think I should-uh-call you later. It seems like you’ve got company. I won’t bother“ Sophia stops her mid sentence and grabs her arm before she could turn back.

“Give him a chance. And if nothing changes, he will be gone. Just let him explain. He’s here for you” the German woman whispers even though she’s audible enough to my ears.

“Explain what? He’s getting married? Leaving again? What do I have to do with him?” I know ‘him’ is just a subject of a sentence but it tasted very bitter, being called just that and not Mase or Mason.

“He wants to apologize. And say something that has been haunting him for ages, that he probably should have said ages ago”

“Does Chloe know he’s here or will I-“

“Let him explain this one too”

Kai looks at me sympathetically and pats me in the back as he takes Sophia’s hand after hugging Y/N and greeting her. Now, I’m left alone in a room with Y/N after god knows how long.

Y/N’s POV

“Hi Mase” is all I manage to say. My effort sucks but I’m not the one who’s supposed to do the talking now.

“How have you been?” He replies, standing up and coming a bit closer to me. I feel my palms getting sweatier as he takes a step.

“Things have been good. You know how isolation works. Uh-what about-“ I couldn’t finish what I wanted to say when he interrupted me

“I asked about you, Y/N. Tell me how you are!” He sounded demanding but not in a mean way. More like a concerning one.

“If I say good, that will be a lie” I lower my head, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

“And I know that this is my fault” he admits with a broken voice, wanting to take my hands into his but me slowly removing them.

He doesn’t let me go, holding me even more firmly. I hadn’t felt the warmth of his touch in god knows how long. There was a nostalgic feeling surrounding the moment.

“I’ve let you slip away enough. I don’t wanna repeat this mistake” Mason says, placing his free fingers under my chin and raising my head to face him.

Tears have covered my eyes and I can feel them pooling my shirt and cheeks. This isn’t what I expected on a Wednesday night.

“It’s not your fault Mason. I understand her place” I bitterly say hating her even more than I already do.

“You don’t have to anymore. And you never should have. Hell, I shouldn’t have let this happen!” He raises his voice, which makes me tremble.

“You couldn’t have known. You’re not to blame here Mase” I can’t really blame him, even though that’s all I want to do. Because I never took action either.

“No, Y/N, I should have known. I should have been aware that my favorite person in this entire world is hurting. That my favorite person was distancing herself and i would slowly lose my reason for smiling everyday”

His face comes closer to mine and I can feel my knees going weaker and weaker as seconds come and go.

“I loved you Mase. I still do. I forced myself to stop, but it was an impossible task. My heart didn’t want to let you go. I believed that this pain would eventually lead somewhere, so I kept letting it take over me. Even though at moments I felt like this was a lost cause” the words slipping off my mouth, surely have been spoken by my heart and not brain. It was what I had been bottling all those years.

“I hated not coming to your games properly and having to hide in the crowd, wearing odd like clothes so Chloe wouldn’t recognize me. I hated coming to the family gatherings and not being able to even come near you, or say a simple ‘hello’. I hated that she could kiss and hug you every day and night, without realizing there’s a dropper meaning behind this!”

MASON’s POV

My heart was slowly shattering as each of her words were like small tarts aiming for me. I had a barrier next to me this whole time, keeping away the most amazing woman everyone would die to have. And when I could have her, I decided not to.

“After my return, I wanted to so badly kiss you and tell you how much I love you. That night, the final one in Holland, I thought that I could never let you go. Because you’re the one for me. Because you’re the woman of my dreams. My lifelong partner in crime. But I thought this would destroy years of friendship and wonderful memories”

That’s when she finally breaks down. She can’t stop crying and falls into my arms, holding me as tight as ever. I had caused her so much pain, that I was willing to give her ever drop of my happiness so she could restore hers.

“Please kiss me. Tell me this isn’t a dream. Because if I am dream, I would hate to wake up to an empty bed. Hold me as if this is the last time we will ever see each other. Tell me that you love me. Because these have been the words that kept me going all this time” she mumbles into my neck and I quickly turn her head to face me one last time.

I bring my lips closer to hers, with a bright spark connecting them and suddenly the world stop spinning. I don’t think I’ve ever felt my heart beating so incredibly fast.

Her touch is so soft and precious that if I could never stop kissing her, it would be better than oxygen. I could spend my entire life hanging by her lips and I would be happier than ever. She doesn’t fall back. She doesn’t want to believe that this is reality, when it actually is.

We unfortunately break the kiss and a massive smile is plastered on each others lips. I had missed her smile so much. I had missed seeing this beautiful girl waking up next to me everyday after we had confessed everything to one another.

This was what true love feels like. What being love and love someone is. What being appreciated and desired is. And I was glad that only Y/N could give me this feeling.

“Promise me, that you will never leave again. And I promise you that I will give you the goddamn world if it means to cherish and keep you close to me forever. I will give you everything you deserve and so much more, Y/N. Because there’s no one else on this earth that deserves more than you”

“I have loved you since day one Mason. I was never willing to stop or disappear. And I promise to remind you everyday, how much I love you. How much you mean to me. How much I appreciate you”

#mason mount fluff #mason mount #chelsea fc #mason mount x y/n #mason mount one shot #mason mount x reader

286 notes · View notes

lilwetto · 4 months ago

Note

I have to say Sage isn’t all that, I thought Scrim would’ve went with someone prettier):

WDYM. SAGE IS A STUNNER, let me guess yall were hoping for someone who wasn’t naturally pretty and has had too much plastic surgery?

Dawg, Sage is beautiful and its comments like this that keep her private on instagram and every other social media, 9/10 times it’s teenagers sending shit like this. Scrim is 35, Sage is 31; you being 19 will never give you a chance, Sage is his savior, his peace and someone that he genuinely loves, she loves all of him and his flaws, and is nothing like his exes who; stole money, kept him from his family and fed his psychosis with drugs. Y’all find anything to say atp.

She’s perfect for him.

#$uicideboy$#scrim #$crim #$uicide christ

21 notes · View notes

nikethestatue · 11 months ago

Text

A Match Baked In Heaven

Chapter X

Howlin’ For You

Today

Breasts.

Boobs.

Mammary Glands.

Jugs.

Boobies.

Tits.

Fiery Biscuits.

Melons.

Baps.

Milkers.

Tatas.

Snuggle Pups.

The ‘girls’

Whatever one called them, here they were. Staring Azriel Night in the face. He could’ve thought of a few more names for them: ‘naughty pillows’, ‘honkers’, ‘knockers’, ‘the rack’...and on and on and on.

This pair was nice as fuck. He couldn’t deny it.

The generously bosom-y blonde across from him was a beauty named Mor. And this Mor was a stunner. Big brown eyes, hair like molten gold, tits for days, childbearing hips, a nipped waist.

He’d arrived early, yet she was already here, at a posh, faceless bar in the City. She wanted to go somewhere flashier, but Azriel didn’t want any more of his photos splashed across Daily Mail under the headline ‘Another One for Footie’s Bad Boy?’ so he chose this spot. It was filled with nervous and overly intense finance blokes, with an uneven ratio of 78% dicks to 22% pussy in attendance. If he didn’t know better he’d think this was a gay bar, but it wasn’t. It was a bar where ‘deals were made’ and no one paid attention to him. He was wearing a suit and easily passed for another manic finance bloke.

Mor was on her third drink already, but she was holding her alcohol well, though Azriel suspected that might have a problem somewhere there. Currently he wasn’t training or playing due to his injury, but he still stuck with sparkling water as was his habit. Those big bazoongas shifted beneath her bright red dress and even a blind man would’ve felt the earth shift when she moved, but Azriel remained…uninterested.

Yes, in theory, she was tempting and attractive in every way. If this was three months ago, he probably would’ve been pounding her on the way back from the bar, giving Dev an eyeful. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

Alas, currently, not only did he not care about her tits whatsoever, he also kept thinking about the cool 20 Day Advent Calendar that he bought for Pinky, where there was a special treat behind every little daily slat. He was unhealthily excited about this Advent Calendar and kept imagining how excited Pink would be about it, and how he and Elain would open it daily to reveal treat-of-the-day.

No tits were as desirable as the happiness of his dog. Besides, the only tits that were interesting to him, the only tits he wanted to touch and squeeze, the only tits he wanted to lick and bite, were Elain’s. Soft, ample, squishy titties–the only tits worth his time and attention. Whatever Mor was laying down, he sure as hell wasn’t picking up. The only reason he was here anyway, was because his ornery girlfriend demanded it and he was humouring her. A little bar talk with this loud woman was a small price to pay for having Elain in his arms through the night, making her accept him, slowly, but surely fall for him, submit…Yeah, it was worth it, even if he didn’t want to be here.

Five Days Ago

“You aren’t even that ill!” Elain protested.

Azriel offered a loud and very fake cough to demonstrate that he was indeed quite ill.

“I beg to differ,” he argued. “Are you really going to send a star athlete all the way to Canary Wharf, in the beginning of December? While he is half-dead from fever and has a broken leg?”

“Oh, now the leg is broken too?” Elain crossed her arms on her chest, shaking her head, looking at him. The good thing was that Pinky decided to take Azriel’s side, and now he sat by his side, working hard at giving Elain the biggest puppy dog eyes in history.

“You two are emotional vampires!” she declared, getting up from the table.

“We are emotional puppies!” Azriel argued.

“You are a traitor,” Elain hissed at Piglet, who whimpered pathetically.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Azriel offered sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes and told him firmly, “you aren’t sleeping with me”.

“Umm,”

“No, don’t even think about it.”

“Where am I sleeping then?”

“In the guest room,” she said primly,

“Aren’t you planning to sleep with your husband in the same bed?” he queried.

“Yes. But you aren’t my husband.”

“But I will be,” he reminded her.

“Dream on, football boy,” she puffed her cheeks, while Azriel gathered the plates and hobbled with them to the sink. And then, he proceeded to wash the dishes like a good boy. It was silly, because obviously she had a dishwasher, but Azriel wanted to show how he would be a great husband-material, and how much potential he had in that department.

Elain didn’t say anything, but quietly began putting things away after dinner. Pinky was laying there like a log, watching them closely, monitoring every move.

Azriel was almost done with the washing up, when he stepped aside and suddenly pulled Elain to him, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Her breath quickened, but she didn't struggle in his hold. He pressed her into the counter and held her within the cage of his arms.

Elain smelled delightful. A heady mix of jasmine, with light undertones of warm honey and vanilla. Her scent was exactly what she was in life–a flower-lover and a baker. It was a perfect mix of who she was.

Azriel inhaled her deeply and felt her shiver against him. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, savouring the moment. It was quiet, other than some instrumental Christmas music playing on Elain’s phone. So it made sense when Elain’s arms tentatively wrapped around Azriel’s waist and she pulled him a little closer.

“Why are you like that, my matchy?” he whispered.

“How am I?”

“Skittish. Afraid. You shouldn’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

She sighed sadly and whispered, “Others have said the same, and did, in fact, hurt me.”

“I am not ‘others’. I am it. I knew that I was fucked once I started wondering what your lips would taste like, and I am still wondering about that. I’ve been many different things in my life, and not all of them any good, but with you, it’s different.

“You smell like home. You feel like a wife. You act like the mother of my children. There is nothing I can do about that.”

“You fell hard,” she murmured.

“Surprised me too,” he chuckled, “but here we are.”

She took his hand in hers and looked at his scarred skin, absently rubbing the mangled flesh with her thumb. At that, it was Azriel’s turn to squirm a bit. He didn’t like close attention being paid to his hands.

But, all she did was whisper ‘beautiful’ and Azriel didn’t know what to do with that. So he blushed. Because it wasn’t something he expected, and coming from her, he knew that it was the truth. She found his hands beautiful.

She then took him by the hand and gently pulled him behind her, sneaking from under his arm.

“Gonna put me to bed, beautiful?” he chuckled.

“Don’t push it,” she warned playfully.

They went upstairs, Azriel being on his best behaviour, careful not to spook her and have her send him back down to sleep on the couch.

Elain’s upstairs wasn’t any less luxurious and stylish than the downstairs. The landing had built-in bookshelves and a loveseat and apparently Pinky’s own swanky pad, with a vast doggy bed and various cushions upon which he could ‘relax’ (not that his life was very hard and required much relaxation). In addition, part of the built-ins contained all his outfits, his toys, and bows. He had more clothes than Kim K.

“You are here,” Elain opened the door to one of the bedrooms. It was modern, comfortable, like a world-class hotel room. But impersonal.

“There is an en-suite,” Elain waved her hand to another door.

“And where are you?” Azriel asked immediately.

She gave him a look, but said “at the end of the hall. Should you require anything, knock and let me know.”

Then, after a beat, she added, “And since you sleep in the nude, please don’t forget to cover yourself.”

Azriel smirked and gently cupped the side of her neck, drawing his thumb over the tender skin of her throat.

“So you remembered then?”

Primly, as if they were discussing cottage cheese, she said, “it’s my job. I pride myself in remembering what my clients tell me.”

“Ahhh,” he nodded slowly, with a knowing look on his face. “And for no other reason I am sure, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then, Ms. Archeron,” he pressed his lips to her forehead and gave her a soft, loving kiss, “good night. And if I do need anything, I will remember to cover my massive cock,”

“Ahh,” she gasped and he laughed, giving her another quick kiss.

She pushed at him, pretending to be oh-so scandalised, but there was no fire in her protests.

“Stop kissing me!”

“That’s a hard no from me,” he shrugged. “I only intend to kiss you more.”

“Why are you like this?”

“What? Charming? Sexy? Smart?”

“Yeah, all of the above,” she snorted. “Don’t you ever take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“Not really,” he confessed. “Definitely not this time around.”

“Why not?” she asked quietly, looking straight at him.

He licked his lip and then stated simply,

“Because you are mine.”

Today

“Three million.”

Azriel was so lost in thought, especially recalling how that night five days ago went, that he didn’t catch anything that Mor was saying to him. Not until he heard ‘three million’.

“Pardon?” he finally asked.

“I think that’s a reasonable sum,” she decided, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

“For what?”

“Us!”

“Us? Us what?” his brow furrowed and he had no idea what she was referring to.

“That’s the exchange,” she pushed, leaning across the table towards him, and letting her boobs slide forward, the material of her dress barely containing them. Gosh, she was trying hard.

“Miss Hewn, lay it all out,” he all but snapped at her. “What do you want?”

“It’s what you want,” she corrected him and brought her martini glass to her bright red lips. An espresso martini, no less. What a revolting 80s drink that no self-respecting person would ever touch. But Azriel chose to keep his opinion to himself. Mor wasn’t Elain. He could tease Elain. She’d answer, she’d taunt him back. It would be wonderful. But he didn’t need to worry about Elain–she was a whiskey and lager and gin girl. Proper drinks. Classic. None of this frou-frou nonsense. He had no opinion on Mor because he didn’t give a shit.

“What am I exchanging for three mil?” he queried, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning back in his chair.

She mimicked his posture, and said in a firm, bland tone,

“A little birdy told me that if you don’t marry by the time you are thirty, you lose your chance at your inheritance…and I hear it’s over 200 mil. Lord Darling is worth what? About two billion? 10% of his wealth goes to his two adopted sons–you and your brother Cassian. Am I not correct?”

“You are alarmingly well-informed about Lord Darling’s finances,”

She shrugged and said with false innocence in her voice, “all public knowledge, Azriel. And I am a girl who does her research.”

Another one.

Another girl who was doing her due diligence. But unlike Elain, whose intentions were honourable and even a little naive, Mor seemed much more predatory. Her big eyes gleamed with excitement.

“So, if I am understanding you correctly,” Azriel sipped his sparkling water, wondering how long he had to stay here for, “you want me to pay you three million pounds,”

“Correct,” she nodded.

“For what exactly?”

“To marry you, of course, silly!” she smiled at him and winked.

“Oh…”

“Two years? Three?” she shrugged irreverently and finished her gross martini, while immediately motioning to the waiter for another drink.

The balls on her were…impressive.

If Azriel wasn’t so internally disgusted, he would’ve been awed.

But he was mostly grossed out.

“We marry, we stay together for a couple of years,” Mor continued easily. “I get my three million. You get your 200 million and then we part amicably. What do Americans call it? Irreconcilable differences. We wouldn’t be able to reconcile our differences too. I’ll even sign a prenup, and won’t ask for any spousal support or any bit of your money,”

“Generous of you,” he said dryly. “So this has been the plan from the beginning, I am guessing?

She shrugged innocently.

“I go where the money is.”

“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “You know all about how much I make too?”

Her red-tipped fingers gently caressed his hand, but in a condescending sort of way, like she was taming a wild animal.

“Of course I do, darling,” she smiled at him. “Of course, I do. 115 million contract with Arsenal over 5 years. Multiple multi-million pound endorsement contracts with big name companies–Adidas, Apple, Bank of England come to mind. Oh, Smart Water. Oh, oh,” she snapped her fingers, “a deal with that shaving company…You looked good in those adverts. All damp and half-naked, water dripping off of you,”

Azriel barely managed not to roll his eyes.

“How did you get through Elain’s rigorous screening?” he interrupted her litany, speaking frankly and not giving a fuck. He was past being Mr. Nice Guy or even Mr. Pretend to Be a Nice Guy for the Evening. He was going to be the dickhead that he usually was.

Mor laughed lightly and accepted another weird concoction from the waiter–a Lemon Drop, apparently. What was with this woman and her 80s drinks? They weren’t even classics. Just gaudy.

“Ohhh,” Mor did a sing-song thing with her voice. “Elain…Lady Elain Archeron, the 7th Marchioness of Londonfair, sister to Nesta, the Duchess of Velaris and to Countess Feyre Archeron.

“See, Azriel, I do my research on everyone. Did you know that the Duke of Velaris petitioned Queen Victoria some time around 1894 to have all the females in his family receive titles. Just the females, the same way the males would. And the titles are passed on to women in that family. Interestingly, the old Queen wasn’t exactly a feminist. In fact, she was sternly opposed to feminism and felt that women should obey and serve their men. Wonder what the Duke had to do to convince her? But whatever he did, apparently worked.

“The sisters’ mother was the Duchess of Velaris. Nesta was the Marchioness. Elain, a Countess. Feyre, a Viscountess. Once the mother died, the titles shifted to each respective sister. Interesting, isn’t it?

“You know how much they are worth?”

“No,” Azriel snapped. “I don’t, and I don’t care.”

“Pity. It is curious that Lady Elain has this strange profession. Very odd, don’t you think? A matchmaker.”

“She wants to bring happiness to others,” he said. “Love.”

Mor scoffed,

“Love. Yes, love. It’s adorable that you bought into her fantasy.”

“Her track record is impeccable,” he argued roughly.

“Oh,” Mor waved her hand, “I am not arguing, I know she is good at what she does. Poor lonely souls flock to her in hopes for their happily ever after.”

“And you didn’t?” he challenged. Dark, angry, cold rage was rising up in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. His own personal feelings aside, Elain was good. She believed in what she did. She was kind and thoughtful and careful with the feelings of others. She did want people to find their partners, and their happily ever after. Of that, he had no doubt. Therefore, anyone taking advantage of her sincerity and her beliefs made him see red.

“I did flock too,” Mor confirmed, almost chugging her Lemon Drop in one go and motioning for the waiter yet again. Jesus fuck. “Just not for love,” she continued. “It wasn’t exactly difficult to build up a story that Elain wanted to hear. My very unsuccessful first engagement, then a string of men who didn’t turn into anything serious, disappointments and my ‘yearning for love’,” she made air quotes. “The poor silly cow fell for it just like that,” she snapped her fingers.

At that, Azriel flinched, but Mor didn’t notice it. Instead, she ordered ‘Sex On the Beach’ and he almost died of embarrassment. When the kids on the team told him that they ‘died of cringe’ he now understood what they meant.

“If you know where to look, you’d find out that Lady Elain abruptly ended her engagement to Lord Nolan a few years back. I figured that he stepped out on her, and it turns out that I was correct. So I played that up to her, telling her that my fiance did the same. She was so easy,” Mor sighed dramatically. “I mean, what was I expecting? This is a woman who dotes on her lame legless pug and,”

“Pardon,” Azriel stood up abruptly and muttered, “I need to go to the loo,”

“Oh, alright then,” Mor nodded. “When you come back, we’ll discuss the details of the arrangement.”

Apparently, in her mind, everything’s been settled already.

Azriel left his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, but he figured it would be a small price to pay to escape. He veered off the path to the toilets and passed by the long, glass-covered bar, where he spotted Dev, who was sipping mineral water. Azriel motioned his head to the driver, and Dev got up promptly, his expression perplexed. His eyes darted from Azriel to Mor’s golden-haired head which loomed over the table.

Azriel came over and grabbed his driver’s arm, quickly ushering him towards the exit.

“Are you doing a runner?” Dev guessed, grinning at the panicked looking Azriel.

“Sure am!”

“Wait, so you pumped and dumped,”

“No pumping,” Azriel quickly, shuddering visibly, “only dumping.”

“You really gonna ghost her like that?”

“Honestly, it’s not my proudest moment, but I am afraid she is going to charge me for leaving. A tenner at least.”

Dev chuckled, and nodded towards Azriel’s lack of jacket,

“You’ll freeze your bollocks off,”

“Small price to pay to escape Miss Golden Arm over there. She really started the conversation with ‘you pay me three million and then I will marry you’.”

“Shit. For real?”

“Sure am. She is a thirsty one. Not for cock, but for a buck.”

Dev laughed and said, “Alright then, mate, let’s go. I’ll save you.”

Azriel tossed two hundred pounds to the barman and said, “For the lady’s drinks,” he pointed towards Mor. “And make sure she doesn’t drive. She’s had one, or ten, too many.”

By the time he slipped out of the bar, took the lift downstairs and came outside, to the frigid night, Dev was pulling the car around the corner.

Azriel all but collapsed into the warm cabin and rubbed his hands.

“Told you you’ll freeze,” Dev told him.

“What did you want me to do exactly?”

“Never seen you walk away like that from a woman before,” Dev commented, while he pulled away from the curb.

“Ehhh,” Azriel looked out the window, watching the sleek streets decorated for Christmas. “I wasn’t into it.”

“Uh-uh,” Dev only muttered, with a knowing look on his face. “Where to then? Canary Wharf or Russell Square?”

Azriel shot him a glance in the mirror, and Dev continued lightly, “I wasn’t planning on being done with the evening by,” he glanced at the clock, “7:08 pm. But here we are. So, where are we going? Home? Or where you wanna be?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel demanded.

The driver huffed and snickered.

“Come on, Az. I’ve known you for 20 years. Known you since we were lads.”

“So?”

“Seen you with all kinds of birds, and here we are tonight, and I am watching you walk away from Miss Busty without a second thought. And I can see you itching to go back to that posh neighbourhood and see your posh lass and her mega posh pug. Tell me I am wrong?”

Azriel rubbed his chin and looked back at the window.

“Russell Square,” was all he said.

Dev smiled widely.

“On my fucking way, lad.”

Because yes, Azriel wanted to be with his woman. And wanted a repeat of the night from five days ago.

Five Days Ago

Five nights ago, Azriel did not keep true to his word.

Well, technically, he didn’t promise to stay in his room. He didn’t promise to stop kissing Elain. He didn’t promise anything, other than to cover his cock if he went to her room. And he did.

He covered his cock.

He wore his boxers, to be precise.

He settled for the night–or at least for the immediate couple of hours–but as soon as the door closed, he heard scratching and banging, growling and barking.

“Piglet no!” came Elain’s urgent pleas. “Az is going to sleep. So should you. Go to your bed. Right now!”

Instead, there was snapping and more growling.

“Piglet, no. You had chicken and rice, you took a nice walk, you played with Az, and it’s time to call it a night. Go to bed.”

There was a pause, and then more aggressive banging on the door, which Azriel hoped wasn’t Pinky ramming his head into it.

“I swear to god, Piglet Pinky Archeron,” Elain exclaimed sternly and Azriel just about fell off the bed, at the sound of the middle name,

Piglet Pinky Archeron Night. Thank you very much.

“I am going to take you to the vet!”

A shocked, horrified whimper was the answer.

That was a hella threat then.

And then Piglet started crying and Azriel couldn't take it anymore. He got out of bed and threw the door open. With that, Piglet in turn threw himself in his arms like the floor was lava. Azriel wrapped his arms around him and whispered, “It’s okay, my boy. It’s okay. I am not going to send you to the vet,” he glanced at Elain, meaning to give her the stink eye, and only to notice her shocked expression.

Oh yeah…he was naked, other than for his underwear.

“Ummm,” she mumbled…”I…well, I…if he…you know he is quite loud if you want him to sleep in the room,” she rambled on, as her eyes darted here and then, trying to avoid the sight of his naked flesh.

That’s right, sweetheart. Keep looking.

“I am dressed,” Azriel pointed out with a smirk.

“I…I,” she huffed, swiping her hand over her brow, “I wouldn’t call this ‘dressed’ Mr. Azriel…”

“Mr. Azriel?” Azriel teased. “What happened to Mr. Night?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Mr. Night!” Elain nodded frantically, “that’s what I meant, of course. Naturally. Mr. Azriel.”

He kept staring at her, smiling, while she muttered, “Mr. Night!”

Then he shrugged and told her, “I rather like hearing my name on your lips, beautiful. ‘Azriel’ me all you want. Come on in then,” he jerked his head, inviting her in.

“Come where?” she baulked.

“To my comfy bed, obviously,” he explained like she was a bit stupid. “It’s only nine o'clock. According to the Daily Mail I am a ‘debauched footballer’--so what the fuck am I doing in bed at this hour? It’s fine for Pink, but you and I can spend some quality time together,”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she kept muttering, while he grabbed her hand and tugged her along.

“Don’t worry little virgin,” he assured her, “I’ll leave your virtue intact, if that’s what you’d like,”

“I am not a virgin!” she hissed at him and he laughed and then the three of them piled onto the bed, under his significant bulk and strength.

But first things first…

He got her in bed with him, which was a massive accomplishment. Took two months, but here they were. Now, he needed a minute to wrap his mind around the fact that Elain Archeron, his Elain, was in bed with him. Thankfully, Pinky offered him that opportunity, when he jumped off the bed, screamed excitedly, and then began running frantic circles around the room.

Watching the pug’s antics, Elain laughed and whispered, “major case of the zoomies.”

“For the laziest dog, he sure does pack a lot of energy,” Azriel commented, carefully arranging himself next to her, trying to be inconspicuous, like this was normal for them.

Nothing was normal.

None of this was normal.

Even the fact that Elain was barefoot, and he was seeing her pretty toes for the first time, had Azriel spiralling internally. She was usually formally dressed, and when he did catch her in casual attire, it was strange enough. But Elain barefoot? Her toenails were painted a light pearl colour and he couldn’t stop staring at them. He couldn’t stop staring at the difference in their sizes: at how much bigger he was than her. He was a big man, but her little pale feet seemed almost childish next to his large, beat up, calloused ones. His muscular legs reached almost to the edge of the bed, and he looked rough and wild compared to her, his skin a deep golden brown, tattoos peppering his body here and there, all the sinewy tight muscles bulging and shifting beneath his bruised, scarred, scratched skin. She was soft and creamy, pale and resembled a marshmallow or a cream puff. He resembled a gnarly log.

He extended his arm and Elain naturally leaned into the crook, laying her head on his shoulder.

She wore grey pyjama pants with pugs on them (obviously), and a red Arsenal t-shirt, with Azriel’s own number. Like a proper girlfriend should. Though it made his chest warm and everything inside of him squeezed with strange wormy happiness, because this wasn’t the jersey that he gave her. This was a different shirt, which she clearly bought for herself, and now wore to bed.

There was nothing sexy or alluring about her mismatched night outfit, but to Azriel, it was somehow perfect. Undoubtedly, the ensemble that she had on earlier–the shorts, the knee highs, and the jumper–was Pinterest-worthy in its enticing sexiness, and nothing beat half of her ass falling out of those shorts.

But this was good. Like it should be.

He rested his chin atop of her head and then she reached across him and tugged a blanket on top of his body.

“You’ll grow cold and will never get better,” she complained.

“Is my naked body messing with your little ladyship sensibilities?” he teased. “What’s it like with Lord Eris? Brace yourself, Sally, and think of England?”

“I hate you so much,” she said flatly, shaking her head with disdain.

“No, matchy. You like me,” he said assertively.

She tensed a little against him, but he only stroked her shoulder lightly, keeping her in place.

Piglet finally tired out from his zooming and attempted to climb back on the bed, but he couldn’t reach that high up, so he began whimpering frantically, now wanting as much attention as possible and fearing that he was missing out.

Azriell scooped him up with his available hand and placed him at his side.

“You can stay here, but you are not Beyonce, so no one will be entertaining you. Calm down and go to sleep. It’s me and Ellie time.”

Piglet pouted at him, but then burrowed himself in the blanket and quieted down.

“Try to keep the farting to a minimum,” Azriel warned, but Piglet only snorted at him.

Azriel draped the rest of the blanket over Elain, and then boldly grabbed her hip and hoisted her leg up and over his own.

There was a moment there, where they just looked at each other, their bodies connected, the intimacy of the moment almost stifling.

It was then that Elain asked,

“What do you want, Azriel? From me?”

He looked at her, studying the lovely contours of her face, and after a long pause, said,

“I want everything from you. I want you in the worst way. I need your taste. Your scent. I want to know what your skin would feel next to mine. I want to crawl so deep inside of you, that you won’t be able to extricate yourself from me ever. Not ever. Not with a spoon. Not with an axe. Not with a prayer. Not with a saw. And I want it all tonight. I want it every minute of the day. And I know that I can’t have it. So I yearn and desire, and I suffer, because I cannot have it. I cannot have you.”

“It’s a violent image,” she whispered at last, watching him in awe. “Your love is possessive, and nearly scary.”

“Nearly,” he agreed, “but not quite. I simply didn’t know that I could feel this way about anything. About anyone.”

“Are you going to start spouting poetry?” she smiled and lightly traced her finger over his jaw.

“I usually don’t need to resort to that,” he chuckled. “But if you’d like me to give you a little speech about how you’d bewitched me, body and soul, I could do that.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve read Pride and Prejudice!” she gasped in shock.

Azriel laughed quietly, “Fuck no! But I’ve seen enough gifs from the movie to remember that line.”

“I love that movie,” Elain admitted dreamily.

“Absolutely no surprise there,” Azriel concluded.

He then pulled her closer and slipped his arm lower, so he could cup her lovely ass, and when he did, she didn’t even fight him. That’s my girl, he thought.

“What should I get Pinky for Christmas?” he pondered, as he glanced at the sleeping pug.

“I don’t think that he cares all that much,” Elain admitted, while her little finger kept making circles on his skin, travelling from his neck, down to his shoulder and chest, as she traced the lines of his tattoos.

“Come on, of course he does! I do too. What should I get him?”

“Well,” she thought, “the things he likes the most are: empty Amazon envelopes, the padded ones. Socks. You can get him an old shoe. A stick, of course. He likes a good stick. Any kind of hose that he can tear up–pantyhose are his fave. An empty box. And of course the thing that he loves the most in the world is,” then her voice dropped to a whisper and she said into Azriel’s ear, her voice barely audible, “meatloaf.”

Even though Elain was whispering, the magical word still caused Piglet to stir sleepily. He waited for a moment, before falling back asleep.

“See?”

“Wow, he really must love it,” Azriel barely contained himself, stifling his laughter. “I guess I know what we are having for Christmas!”

The next hour and a half were spent in blissful warmth. Azriel took out his phone, and they proceeded to watch a bunch of comedians on Netflix. They laughed at the same jokes, and Azriel found it endearing.

“I think we need to get a tree,” Azriel decided at some point. “I would’ve thought that you’d be completely Christmas-obsessed and everything would be covered in Christmas spirit. Kind of like in ‘Elf’.”

Elain sighed and frowned.

“What?” he pushed, stroking her head.

“I didn’t feel like it this year, I guess,” she said lamely.

“Why?”

“I dunno…”

“Come on. Tell me.”

“I am not feeling festive, I suppose.”

The vague admission didn’t sit right with him and he turned her face up, so he could look at her.

“What happened?”

She bit her lip and sighed,

“I don’t know…I guess I didn’t see myself in this place, under these circumstances, at this stage of my life,”

“What circumstances?”

“Single, I suppose,” she sighed again. “I figured that by 28, I’d be married, maybe even with children. For sure with someone significant in my life. Now I'll be 28 in less than two weeks, and I guess I just broke up with my long-term boyfriend? I am not even certain where we stand with him. And then there is you, and you are all kinds of confusing,”

“I am not confusing,” he argued. “I am your boyfriend. I don’t really care that you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge this yet, but I am. You ain’t single. You are mine. And if you want me to put a ring on your finger on your birthday, I will, if it will make you happy,”

Elain elbowed him harshly and snapped, “Stop talking like that! We barely know each other! We,”

“We know each other plenty. What don’t I know about you and you don’t know about me? Short of an anal probe, you’ve asked me every question imaginable. You know what I like to eat, where I grew up, how I fuck, what I wear, where I live, and I know that you love your pug, and your sisters, and that sometimes you are lonely, and that you love watching couples that you set up end up married and happy, and you’ve been hurt in love, and you love apple crisps and are sweetly rough around the edges despite being a Lady.”

“I don’t know how you…fuck,” she cleared her throat.

“I can certainly show you that right now,” he offered. “I’ve been ready to fuck you since you’ve been eyeing my happy trail the day we decorated for Halloween,”

“WHAT!!!!” she cried out. “I was not!”

“Sure were, baby, sure you were,” he teased and squeezed her ass cheek hard, “you think I didn’t notice? You think I didn’t let you watch for as long as you wanted?”

“Oh my god, you are horrible!” she smacked his bare chest. “I wasn’t. It was just there. Your stomach! You were showing it to me,”

“Uh-uh. Anyways. This Christmas will be brilliant, for you and for me. A new start, a new beginning,”

“Beginning of what?” she asked timidly, her expression hopeful and eager. She liked what he was telling her.

“Us, Elain Archeron. Us. Argue all you want, but I ain’t letting you go. And I am taking Pinky to get us a tree!”

He drove the point home by reaching and cupping her breast. He squeezed it tightly, bouncing it within his palm. It didn’t escape him that Elain wasn’t wearing a bra under the t-shirt, and her soft full tits have been rolling around all evening long next to him and driving him crazy.

She squeaked in surprise, and attempted to throw his hand off, but once he brushed his thumb over her nipple, she stilled and her breathing hitched audibly.

“You want me to show you how I fuck?” he asked quietly, swiping his thumb over the hardening nipple.

“You promised,” she protested breathlessly. “You said you won’t pressu-,”

“I did,” he nodded. “I did. But let me promise something else now then,”

“What?”

“I will fuck you, Ellie. And you are going to love it. And you’ll ask for more.”

When Azriel was 9 years old, he stole an eclair from a bakery. His class was some kind of class trip to the theatre. They were brought to Covent Garden and he walked around there, eyes wide open, his mind blown. He’d never been to a place more exciting, or beautiful, or wealthy. All he knew were hospitals, drab council estates, and his football, which he often played on concrete. He gawked at the shops, all the restaurants and pubs, and the bakeries. Gorgeous displays of wonderful things everywhere.

Azriel always had quick, sticky fingers, and though he didn’t like thieving, sometimes, it was necessary. Basic necessities were hard to come by, and when he could, he stole–socks and belts, toothpaste, combs, tissues, candy. He made it a point not to steal for no reason, and not get in trouble needlessly, over something trivial.

That day, they passed by some French sounding bakery–it was all gleaming marble, and outlandish displays of croissants and pastries, cakes and tarts, and rich people drinking coffee and buying bread. Nine quid for a loaf of bread. Outrageous!

But there were two types of eclairs that he couldn’t tear his eyes from. One covered in a chocolate glaze, and another sprinkled with hazelnuts and decorated with cream roses. He couldn’t stop looking at them–two girthy decadent stunners that called his name. All he wanted was to sink his teeth into one. Or both.

So he went for it. He pinched them. Wasn’t difficult. He was small and no one paid any attention to him. Besides, even if someone did notice him, they’d assume he was here with a parent. It took a minute, tops. In and out, and two eclairs were nestled in a paper bag, and then in his school bag. Later that night, he and Cassian snuck out, and ate the eclairs sitting on the crumbling stoop of a building.

Up until tonight, Azriel Night had never tasted anything better than those eclairs. Never did anything more sumptuous, sinful and blissfully delicious pass his lips. Never.

Not until he sunk his teeth into Elain’s soft, delicate neck.

In his defence, the scent of her hair, her body, the mix of honey and jasmine and vanilla made him dream of those delectable pastries. And somehow, his lips found their way to her cheek, and then, to her gorgeous neck. His mouth travelled the length of her throat, placing hungry, hot, desperate kisses on the lightly perfumed, warm skin.

Elain moved and moaned softly beneath him, and he woke up fully, feeling her luscious breasts splayed beneath his chest, her small, firm hand gripping his bicep sleepily. He wasn’t sure if she was awake or if she was also dreaming. But once he started, he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled, while he kissed over the trembling pulse point, the hot pumping of blood erratic and needy beneath his lips. He licked her vein, before kissing gently below the ear, only to return to the neck, and cover it in more kisses, peppering it with small bites.

Elain’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him in the darkness.

He wouldn’t have it. Didn’t want any arguments or debates about this. Gripping her chin firmly with his fingers, he turned her head to the side, allowing him all the access he needed to her neck.

“Shhh,” he shushed her. “Let me have this…”

Her nails dug into his skin, but she didn’t fight him that moment. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply, back arching sexily and a needy little moan escaped her lips. He kissed her deeper, and his hand slipped back to her breast, which he covered with his palm. God she was soft. Soft and smooth and delicious in every way. And as his teeth and lips dug deeper into her skin and he sucked on her mercilessly, while realising that nothing compared to her in any way. She was his. That fluttering little heart beat for him.

He squeezed her breast harder, his fingers closing on the nipple, as he twisted it between his fingers, pinching it hard enough for her to gasp loudly.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned, “oh god,” because he pulled and pinched her nipple again, causing her to shudder next to him from both pain, but also pleasure.

Azriel figured that she hadn’t experienced true pleasure in a long time now. He was going to fix that.

“Enough,” she moaned at last and pushed him away slightly. “Not yet…”

“Okay,” he said quietly and pulled away from her neck. Flipping on his back, he covered his eyes with his forearm and willed himself to calm down. Elain was panting next to him.

When he glanced at her, her hair was a mess, her lips were parted, and she was holding her breast, while a bruise bloomed on her neck.

“Shit,” he whispered, rubbing his face. “I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She was silent, staring at the ceiling.

“Ellie, I am sorry,” he muttered worriedly, “forgive me. I am sorry, I overestimated my,”

“It felt good,” she said suddenly.

“Oh. Well, that’s good, right? I thought that I was too,”

“Rough? Yes. But you warned me about that,”

“And…is that okay?”

She thought about it and said, “No one’s ever been like that with me. You are different,”

“I should hope so!”

“You are so heavy,” she commented, “I love your weight. You are solid and so muscular,”

Amused he repeated, “That’s what you like? My weight?”

She pressed her fingers to her neck, “You bit me.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that,” he whispered sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to,”

“I think that you did. You marked me. I can feel the imprint of your teeth.”

Maybe he did mark her.

He bit her like a savage. Like an animal in heat during mating.

He’d never bit anyone like that before.

And he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

So he didn’t explain or say anything further. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, parking her curvy ass in the cradle of his hips. It seemed that she waited for him to say something, but when he didn’t, she tucked her hands beneath her cheek and settled in, with him holding her in his arms.

It was Piglet who nosed into Azriel’s neck, huffing and snorting, clawing at him lightly.

It was barely light outside, but that was to be expected. December in London wasn’t exactly full of sunshine and blue skies.

“He needs to go poop,” Elain groaned sleepily, though she made no effort to open her eyes and only snuggled closer to Azriel.

He smiled and patted her butt, before kissing her head and sitting up.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll take him.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, surprised.

“I am sure. Take a break. I’ll pick up his turds, no problem.”

She snorted a laugh and then turned away and pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Azriel climbed over her–totally unnecessarily–and made sure to sit on her for a second too, while she screeched and tried to swat him away.

“I thought you loved my weight?” he reminded her with a laugh.

“Not this much!” she yelled, and slapped his thigh. “Ohmygod, you are almost naked!”

“Sure am, baby. Nothing but a thin piece of cotton that’s standing between you and my cock n’ balls.”

“It’s too early for your sex talk,” she complained.

“Sweetness, when we are married, be prepared for some morning sex.”

“It’s especially too early for your marriage talk.”

“Never!”

“Make sure to put a coat and a hat on him,”

Azriel picked Pinky up and muttered under his breath, “You do remember that he is a descendant of wolves?! Now he eats fuckin’ meatloaf and wears a hat to go outside.”

At the word ‘meatloaf’ Piglet howled happily.

“That’s for Christmas,” Azriel promised him.

Leaving Elain to snooze, Azriel picked up his clothes, and then found a bathroom in the hallway. It was right across from Elain’s bedroom, where he didn’t dare go yet, but he figured that that’s the one she used for herself. When he entered, he was proven correct. It was the prettiest bathroom imaginable–with a gorgeous view outside, no less. As with everything in this house, it was a perfect combination of modern and classic, tiled simply with white tiles, it also had a modern tub, and a glass shower.

He already imagined their babies splashing in the tub and him fucking Elain in the shower.

Yeah, he always had a vivid imagination.

He looked around, snooping through the cupboards and cabinets. Elain had a moderate amount of products for her hair, only a couple of body lotions, which he sniffed, perfume–custom made, which explained her unique scent–period pads and tampons (he noted the brands, so he could buy them for his own place), same for toothpaste (they used the same one) and finally, he opened the medicine cabinet. No prescription drugs. Just a few utilitarian things and that’s about it, other than the flat disc, which he was pretty familiar with. He took it out and opened it. Low dosage birth control pills. He tsked, seeing as Elain wasn’t very careful about taking them. He figured that she probably didn’t care, since her ginger prick wasn’t here, but that also pleased him because she definitely wasn’t fucking anyone right now.

As he wrestled with Piglet, who was ready for a bath apparently, Azriel considered what to do. He found a pack of toothbrushes, brushed his teeth, noting that he was looking better than yesterday, combed his hair, and then slipped the birth control pills into the backpocket of his joggers.

No need for these anymore, sweetheart.

Did he feel bad about messing with Elain’s birth control–not really.

He just stole it.

At least he didn’t replace the pills with sugar pills, which he briefly considered.

He wasn’t a good man, and he never pretended to be one.

But he wanted his cum to fall in fertile ground, when the time came for that. Ellie didn’t need any birth control.

By the time he and Pinky returned from their walk, Azriel carrying two cups of coffee and a bag with pastries, Elain was up.

For a moment, he worried that she was going to question him about the pills, but she didn’t say anything, only laughing at Pinky’s ridiculous outfit. It was some kind of knit poncho with a hat attached to it. He looked like an idiot, but Azriel loved it, and so did Elain apparently.

“I love walking with him,” Azriel announced, setting breakfast on the counter. “No one pays attention to me. Everyone is only interested in him. Someone even asked him if I was his new dogwalker!”

Elain burst out laughing, while Piglet began zooming around the first floor and Azriel sat down across from her.

“I have a proposal,” she said at last, lacing her fingers together, as she stared him down.

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back.

“Oh god. I am not in the mood for proposals. Unless you are being a modern woman and asking me to marry you. Then, it’s a yes.”

“Well, no.”

“Figures.”

“But it is connected to marriage.”

He sipped his coffee and then said dejectedly, “What now, beautiful? You better make it good.”

“I promise to go out with you,” she announced grandly, and he laughed.

“Isn’t it a little too late for that? Considering that I am sleeping in your bed now?”

“No. Proper dating,” she insisted. “Like if you are my boyfriend,”

“I am your boyfriend,” he reminded her.

“Can you listen to me!” she snapped, and he rubbed the back of his neck before finally saying, “fine. What do you want?”

“You agree to go out with two more candidates,”

Shaking his head violently, he said, “no, no, no. No way. I am done with all that.”

“You’ve gone on ONE DATE!!!”

“No,” he corrected. “I’ve gone on three dates, with one person.”

“Exactly!” she did not relent. “With one person. That’s not enough. Nuala is one candidate. You must go on at least two more.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I am happy where I am at–with you.”

“Mr. Night,” she began, but he waved his hand,

“Fuck off with the Mr. Night, beautiful. We are done with all that. And I am done with the matchmaking. I am matched already.”

“Do you take pride in your work?” she asked seriously.

“Obviously.”

“And just because you are friends with someone from an opposing team, would it stop you from scoring against them?”

“Probably not.”

“Well, consider me your opponent.”

“That’s not even remotely the same. Your comparison is absolute shite. You aren’t my opponent. And I am not scoring against you. I wanna score with you.”

“Two people! Is that so much to ask? If it doesn’t work out, then we know that this is real,”

“I already know that this is real. I don’t need to go on dates with random lasses to know that I’d come back to you.”

“What if you are infatuated?”

“I am infatuated. But it’s much more than that. Also, why am I gonna waste time on courting others, when I have work to do with you. You are still all shifty and weird with me.”

“Because you are my client!” she exclaimed with exasperation. “This isn’t something I’ve ever even considered doing! Let alone actually…doing it.

“And I need to know for myself that this is right for us. For me. I have to know that I am not selfishly shortchanging you.”

“You aren’t,” he insisted. “But if I must, I will go out with two more matches. No more,” he warned her sternly. “No more, Elain. I am not kidding,”

“I understand.”

“If it doesn’t work out–which it won’t–I am done and done, and I am dating you. That’s it.”

“But you have to be truthful and sincere about it. Not just say ‘no’ to them because you want to be cross and contradictory,” she added quickly.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“But if they aren’t for me, I will be honest about that too.”

“Fine.”

Lady Morrigan Court-Hewn.

30 years old. Socialite. Handbag and jewellery designer. Graduated from St. Andrews with a degree in International Studies. A fencing champion at the university, and an accomplished equestrian. Still rides professionally.

Previously engaged to Lord Vincent Eris Autumn, son of Earl Beron Autumn. Notable previous relationships include Prince Harry, Henry Cavill and a brief fling with Ronaldo.

Hobbies: Car racing (F1), horses, fencing and wine tasting

Today

And that’s how Azriel ended up here.

‘Professional drinker’ was definitely omitted from Mor’s profile. As was, ‘expert gold digger’.

As Dev drove towards Russell Square, Azriel checked his phone.

Baron Kier Court-Hewn lost most of his fortune about ten years ago. He bred racing horses, and five of his top steeds needed to be put down due to some disease that they all got. With the death of the horses, the family fortune dwindled. That explained Mor’s ‘research’ into everyone’s finances. It wasn’t surprising that Azriel was primed for the taking.

He wouldn’t have cared about the money thing all that much–it was understandable, everyone wanted money–if she weren’t so vocal about her cunty opinions about Elain, and her calling Pinky ‘lame and legless’.

It’s been a busy week and he was feeling antsy for not having seen Elain and Pinky for four days. He set up the meeting with Mor as soon as Elain got him her information, preferring to get that out of the way. Then he had to travel to two games, and even though he wasn’t playing, he still had to attend. There was a meeting with disadvantaged youths from East London a couple of days ago, and a whole day shooting an advert for Christmas with his team.

Thankfully, it was almost holiday time.

Once Dev pulled up to the townhouse, Azriel said, “don’t wait up”.

Dev smirked and told him, “I wouldn’t think of it!”

Bracing against the cold, Azriel rushed up the stairs and banged loudly on the door. Pink’s excited barking and scratching was heard on the other side.

“What is it?” came Elain’s faint question. “Piglet, what’s going on?”

Bark-bark.

“Is it daddy?”

Fuck yeah it’s daddy!

The next moment, the door opened and Elain was smiling at him.

“Get dressed, beautiful,” Azriel ordered. “Put a hat on Pinky. We are going tree shopping!”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #azriel and elain #pro elriel #elain #elain x azriel #A Match Baked In Heaven #new chapter #elriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #Elriel fanfic #my writing #my fanfiction

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britishsquidward · 6 months ago

Text

Feelings - A Chelley Week 2024 Fanfiction

Since his creation, Wheatley had been made to be afraid of numerous functions embedded within himself: disengagement potential, automated inactivity shutdown, an alleged “remote and self-destruct”... Heck, he'd even been told turning his torch on would have disastrous consequences. But out of all the things he'd been lumbered with, the worst of the bunch was decidedly the fact he had the capability to feel emotions on a human level. However, unlike the other things on his list, he was deathly sure this one could and would kill him. Really, he was - or at least had been - a robot, and those consisted of, what, a bit of metal and a few wires bunged in (it was becoming increasingly apparent that Wheatley truly had no idea how advanced and complicated Aperture technology was)! He wasn’t some elaborate system of neurons, and- and- what did humans have, again? …Electrons? And a… nucleus. Yes, that sounded about right. Wheatley wasn’t sure what any of those had to do with feeling emotions, if they even did, but regardless, he was still pretty angry.

“Feeling” was human. And he was not.

So whoever's bright idea it had been to implement that feature (and all the other ones that lead up to him feeling the way he did at this point) was a bloody madman.

It was true, he was now occupying what resembled a human body, but at the end of the day, it was just densified light, and Wheatley was more comfortable with this knowledge rather than the thought he might be part-

No way. He didn’t want to think about evolving into a smelly human. Dealt with enough of those back at that place, and a majority of them had been absolutely unbearable, no matter what he did to assist. A majority, yes, though not all; a minority had been an utter delight to be around and talk with - well maybe not “talk” with, as such, but it was close enough, and more specifically, a certain someone. In fact, he was now wondering if he should perhaps be working on revising that earlier statement about annoyances, because the reason for his present state of turmoil was due to the aforementioned certain someone.

Admittedly, when Wheatley had first met her, he hadn’t been stunned out of his mind like some fairytale, or struck silly with fascination, wondering how she looked so perfect- Not that he’d been thinking about how perfect she looked right now, mind you. No, nothing of the sort. Most definitely not.

If you were to put it into a timeline from “meeting her” to “now”, he’d been indifferent, hopeful, impressed, resentful, regretful, desperate, thankful, at peace, attracte- NOT ATTRACTED. No! No, no, no. Who brought up attraction? No-one said anything about attraction, especially attraction concerning himself and Chell, which it wouldn’t be by any means, on account of the fact there was no attraction there, at all, whatsoever. Which isn’t to say that everything he’d been thinking about up until this point and the “certain someone” he’d mentioned earlier was in reference to Chell, heavens no - not that she was unattractive, seeing as in his eyes she was quite the opposite, respectfully marvellous, and…

And…

Oh, who was he kidding?

He was hopelessly attracted to Chell. And it wasn’t only her wondrous looks (a complete stunner, she was) either; it was her skill, her personality, her voice, just overwhelmingly her.

Be that as it may, this realisation (acceptance?) bothered him greatly. Not because crushing on somebody was necessarily a bad thing, since this was not the case and Wheatley didn’t believe it to be, but because he believed he shouldn’t have the capacity to feel this way. These “feelings”, if he could even call them that, were simulated, and that alone. What if he handled this sort of feeling differently to the rest of the population? He didn’t know what the rules were! What if he was to confess these feelings to Chell, only to later realise he was doing it incorrectly and end up breaking her heart, betraying her yet again? Hypothetically, of course; he wouldn’t dream of telling her what he was going through, not even if she-

A gentle pressure found its way onto his forearm, and in a brilliant display of disproportionate reactions, Wheatley jolted back rather violently. “I wasn’t thinking anything!” he exclaimed, as to not raise any suspicion and failing miserably.

Chell brushed off the falsehood. “You look troubled,” she commented, sympathy woven into her expression, “What’s bothering you?”

Her hand stayed placed lightly against his arm, her thumb caressing his wrist in a slow, controlled motion. Wheatley’s attention was torn between this very-much-welcome sensation, and Chell’s face. Given the choice, he’d pick watching her hands instead, as those would be easier to face than, well, her face, as this was proving rather difficult under the circumstances. His back was to the window, so what little sunlight was able to shine through past him hit her face beautifully, bringing out the gorgeous tone of her skin, and etching a glisten into her eyes.

How could he deceive a face like that? “Um. Nothing?” Very nice try, but no.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she clarified, “I wouldn’t force you. But I do think it helps sometimes, especially for someone like you.”

“Well… Okay, I-” he paused and blinked, “Hang about, what- what do you mean ‘someone like me’?”

Shrugging and offering him a teasing smile, she answered, “You talk a lot.”

“Oh!” Wheatley threw his free hand up in the air, “Charming! I’m over here- I’m standing here, minding my own business, not bothering anyone, not even that weird… mouse thing that you lot said was stirring at Christmas - not sure where he is, by the way, still haven’t seen him. Must be a nice little guy, though. Presumably. I’ve not seen a mouse in years, and the last time I did it was dead. But that doesn’t distract from th-the point that I was just stood here, worrying about my head, and you come up all boisterous and cocky and just start tearing down my habits! And I don’t even talk a lot, actually.”

She said nothing, opting to stare at him knowingly, an eyebrow raised. He tapped his fingers against the counter. “Okay, so I… I might go on a little bit. Barely noticeable, though, I’d imagine.”

“Wheatley, it wasn’t a personal attack,” she explained (though she didn’t blame him for thinking it was, after years and years of the scientists’ and Her abuse), “I was only saying that since you like to talk, maybe it’d be best to get it out.”

“Upset? Who’s upset? I’m not upset about anything. Who said I was upset?”

“...You did. Just now.”

“Oh.”

A few moments passed where no-one said anything. “Bit awkward,” Wheatley muttered to fill the silence while he decided upon his next course of action, “I was just… upset about… abouuuuut…” Think of a lie, think of a lie, “that place. And- and Her. Which. That upset me. Sorry.”

The apology was more of an “I didn’t want to lie to you”, but Chell didn’t need to know that part.

“It upset me a lot too, at first,” she related, “and I’m not going to tell you it goes away, because it doesn’t. Not entirely, but it gets more manageable than it was.”

Oh dear. She was being considerate. He’d lied to her, and she was being considerate. Words couldn’t describe the pang of guilt that clung around Wheatley’s manufactured heart. “H-how do you manage that? If you don’t mind me asking, luv.”

Part of him cursed himself for calling her that nickname, as it only worsened the feelings he already had pulsing through him, and the other stood idly by to try and keep him from letting on.

Chell didn’t seem to notice or reply right away, taking to making her way across the room instead. The comforting pressure of her hand had to leave his arm for this, and he missed it the second she departed. Being in contact with Chell always made him feel so much more… whole. Like maybe he wasn’t merely a fraud. Like he was… alive. Properly alive, this was, none of that simulated stuff. Alive.

“Occupying yourself with something else.” Clicking the small button on the side of her radio, it sprung to life, projecting a funky tune into the room, the audio of which the most crisp it’d sounded in a long time, which was an extremely pleasant surprise.

Getting a feel for the music, Chell began to experimentally move in time with it, letting her cares be washed away by the immersion it brought. Wheatley, on the other hand, had never been more perplexed in his life. He watched on, brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing,” she laughed at him, sliding over and taking his hand, “Come on.”

“Well, hey now, hold o- Woah-!”

She didn’t bother to give the taller enough time to protest, having already pulled him nearly out of balance and into the centre of the room, where he was now trying to keep up with her much more experienced movements.

Wheatley almost tripped over his own feet multiple times, but tried his best to continue. Not wanting to disappoint Chell was the thing that drove him to select most of his recently-made decisions, and with her holding his hands as nicely as she was, he didn’t plan on breaking that mantra any time soon.

There was some temporary interference with the radio, but Wheatley wasn’t listening. It was hard to pay attention to muffled static when the woman you had a crush on was letting you see her at her most carefree, and allowing you to join her, to boot. Back at that place, he’d seen her look determined, all the way through. Knowing she could get out, doing anything to make that happen. So it was nice to see her just… smile.

Just when he was beginning to get the swing of things, the song faded out and another started up. Chell grinned wider. “Oh, I love this one.”

“You do?” he gulped. Better not mess this dance up, then.

She hummed in acknowledgement, approaching him ever-so-slowly until her head was resting against his chest. Wheatley thanked the lord he didn’t have a proper heartbeat or she’d be able to hear it hammering out of his ribcage. He couldn’t get over just how close she was. Their hands still entwined, bodies touching, swaying gently in rhythm with the tranquil song…It felt right.

At ease, Chell exhaled, giving Wheatley’s hand a light squeeze to silently ask if he was alright. Despite most definitely not being okay, Wheatley gave her hand a gentle squeeze back in response. He felt like he was dying, honestly, but if he was going to die - like he knew these emotions would bring him to - then he wouldn’t rather die anywhere else than how close he currently was to Chell.

It briefly crossed his mind that maybe the settings on his cooler had slipped, due to how his cheeks were beginning the warm up, which did frankly not seem good. Still, he’d rather temporarily malfunction than ruin this moment that, for the record, he could still not fathom the reality of. This was actually happening, he was dancing with Chell. Chell!

Staring down at the shorter, he wasn’t sure what to think. Her face wasn’t in his line of vision, but even by the top of her head, he could imagine how peaceful she looked. The proximity between them was maddening, and Wheatley found himself overcome by the urge to hold her closer, just to be there. To be there, as he wasn’t able to for the last seven years. To be there, as he wasn’t when he was controlled by the chassis. Chell deserved a nice life, and he was determined to give it to her, by being there.

Suddenly, something else clicked in his head, a new emotion. Happiness. He was happy. Happy holding her, admiring her, being near her. And if these “human” feelings meant that he could finally fully appreciate their coincidental existences, by the rules, the right way, then…

Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.

#portal #chelley #chelley week 2024 #wheatley #chell #wheatley x chell #bsq fic

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