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butyoudidthis4what · 24 days ago

Text

No Man's Land

Jack Abbot x f!Reader

5.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || C.W.: mentions of blood, mentions of guns and shootings, mentions of death/dying/coding, CPR, anxiety about partner's safety, Jack's traumatized, reader's traumatized, mentions of dissociation and compartmentalization, poor description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, very very light smut, angst, age gap kind of implied with Jack but not explicitly referenced, no use of y/n or related, not proofread, no beta, I think that's all but if I missed any please (nicely) let me know.

Summary: This is my Pitt-Fest-But-Not fic. Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

A.N.: If my Robby reads like John Carter I'm sorry, except that a little bit I'm not. I feel like I'm struggling with my Jack characterization but can't tell if that's just me hating everything I do. This is my take on one of my fave tropes where reader is in mortal danger. I needed a physical location that could be associated with reader and settled on a courthouse, but what it is reader does there is not described. Probably (definitely?) needs a part two. If you get the nickname, thank you, I feel seen. If you don't I explain it at the end. This is absolutely something I would call him, in part to fuck with people who know his real name. I would love to know if you enjoyed and to hear any thoughts you'd like to share.

“He has a girlfriend,” Robby smirks at Dana.

She blinks at him. “I’m sorry, I thought we were talking about Jack Abbot.”

“Oh we fucking are.” Robby stifles his smirk and forces his lips to remain closed and as neutral as possible.

“You’re shitting me.” Dana’s incredulous look breaks Robby a bit and he starts to laugh, tries to turn it into a cough when both he and Dana look up to find Jack staring at them as he takes his snow dusted beanie off. He gives Robby a ‘really?’ look even though he knew Robby would rat him out to Dana the second Robby had dragged it out of him.

Dana looks back at Robby. “Who? How did they meet?”

Robby holds up his hands. “You now officially know as much as I do about her.” Dana makes a noise of vague discontent but knows Jack well enough to know Robby is telling the truth. That’s all that’s been revealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s not worth it,” you whisper. Jack blinks and looks around, unsure if you’re talking to him. He has no idea who you are, has never seen you before in his life but it appears that you are in fact whispering to him in the middle of this bookstore.

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not?”

You shake your head, give him an almost conspiratorial smile. “No, he must have gotten a new ghost writer. It’s really bad in comparison to his other stuff. Save your time and money. I’ll give you a summary right now for free if you’re that curious.”

Jack smiles to himself a little bit as he sets the book back on the shelf. There’s something about you, your smile, the way you just randomly spoke to him. He’s drawn to you. An alarm goes off in some part of his brain telling him to ignore it, ignore you, he could get hurt. He pretends to weigh his options as he turns to face you fully. “How about for a cup of coffee?”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment. There’s simply no way this unfairly attractive man is asking to buy you a cup of coffee. “The summary?” You clarify. “That I’d give for free. You want it to cost a cup of coffee instead?” You let out a nervous laugh and some part of his heart aches because you’re so adorable. “I just want to make sure I understand before I potentially make an even bigger fool of myself.”

“Yep.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “You give me the summary over coffee. Actually, you know what? You’re going to have to give me a recommendation too because now I’m going to have nothing to read.” He clicks his tongue at you.

“Well,” you laugh out, all breathy as you try to pull yourself together. “You drive a hard bargain but I think I’m willing to accept those terms…” you glance at his name badge, “Dr. Abbot.” You give him a full smile and Jack knows then and there he’s totally fucked in the best of ways.

“Jack.” He smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the café. “Call me Jack.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything quiet enough after handoff, Robby walks out with Jack into the morning sun that does little to warm the breeze pulling leaves off the trees. “Any chance you can cover a shift on Saturday night?” Robby is asking, yes, but he knows it’s not really a question, Jack is always willing to work.

“Can’t.” Jack says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.” There’s an expectant silence that hangs between the two as they keep walking.

“Care to elaborate?” Robby finally asks.

“No.” Jack turns and smirks at him. “It’s none of your and Dana’s business.”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. “So it’s her, it’s about her! The ever elusive girlfriend. Will we ever get to meet her? Or does she not want to meet us? Is she real?” Jack stops walking and gives Robby one of his looks. “Holy shit, is it someone here?”

Jack snorts at that. “No it’s not someone here. She’s not even in the medical field.” He sighs, half longing and half resignation of some kind. “She’s honestly dying to meet you guys, especially you and Dana, but I’m trying to protect her from this hellhole. It’s hard with schedules too, to find a time.”

“That’s such fucking bullshit,” Robby laughs. “Are you afraid to truly commit? Think bringing her here will make it too real?”

It’s a valid question but one that Jack nevertheless resents. “No, actually, if you must fucking know Saturday is our one year anniversary. We have plans. So you’ll have to find someone else to cover. But I’ll bring her around soon,” he laughs through his nose to himself at your stubbornness, “if I don’t she’s liable to just show up one of-”

“A year?” Robby laughs, incredulous. “A fucking year? How the hell did you hide it for three months before I dragged it out of you?”

Jack ignores him. “Also, I’m moving to days. It’s better for us.” He’s so nonchalant about it, just states it like he’s saying the sky is blue, like it’s not going to make Robby’s eyes widen and mouth drop open like it does.

“I don’t,” Robby huffs a laugh, “I don’t even know where to fucking begin.”

“Then don’t.” Jack smirks, starts to walk again while Robby stays frozen, running a hand through his hair. “Go do some actual work.”

“I thought you found comfort in the darkness?” Robby yells after him.

Jack slows and turns around but keeps walking backwards, one hand holding the strap of his backpack to keep it over his shoulder. He glances down at his phone and the photo of you that is now his wallpaper. He smiles to himself a little, yells back. “Guess I find it somewhere else now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggle, honest to god giggle and Jack could lose his damn mind as he nibbles at your collarbone. “You know if my anatomy class had been this fun, I might have become a doctor too.”

You’re laying on your back in bed as Jack kisses your sweat slicked skin all over as you both come down from your last round. He’s taken to 'teaching you anatomy' like this, identifying different parts of the human body with his mouth.

“Hmm,” Jack hums against you. “I’m glad it wasn’t then. Fuck doctors.” He starts to kiss down your chest.

“That has become quite the favorite pastime of mine, yes,” you smirk. “Fucking one specific doctor, actually.”

“Getting fucked by one specific doctor more like it,” he murmurs into your sternum. He kisses laterally, lips hitting your breast and moving towards your nipple.

“I think we’ve established what those are,” you moan softly as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You let your hands run through his salt and pepper curls that you adore so much.

“Can never be too thorough.” You giggle at him again and can feel him smile against you. “But fine, you want something new?” You nod, let your nails scratch gently at his scalp.

“Nipple,” he kisses your nipple and then down your torso to right above your belly button, “to navel is no man’s land.” He continues to lavish kisses on the soft skin of your stomach before looking up at you when you don’t respond.

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.” You eye him with mock suspicion.

He laughs and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world, you swear. Well maybe second, only behind hearing him tell you that he loves you.

“I’m not. Nipple to navel is no man’s land. It’s a real thing. It’s one of the worst places to get shot or stabbed because there’s so many organs that could be hit and the place we’d expect to get hit would depend on whether the person was breathing in or out at the time, whether their lungs were inflated or deflated. And we generally have no way of knowing. It can be difficult to get clear imaging.” He starts kissing lower, down below your belly button, rubbing his stubble along your skin to tease you as he gets lower and lower. “It’s never a good time. Lots of poor outcomes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s supposed to be his day off and yet Jack finds himself staring at the board and running a hand over his face. “It’s still so fucking weird seeing you here during the day and it not meaning something catastrophic has happened.”

Jack turns to look at Dana. “I’ve been working days for a month now and it’s my day off.”

“You can go, we’re fine for now,” Robby nods at Jack. “Thanks for the brief assistance brother.”

“No, no,” Dana interjects, “he’s not allowed to leave until we nail down a time to meet his girl.”

Robby raises his eyebrows and starts to tilt his head and open his mouth to agree with Dana. A dispatch comes through before anyone can say anything else and Dana grabs it, pinning Jack down with her eyes, daring him to leave before discussing meeting you.

“Saved by the bell,” Jack huffs, taking his stethoscope off and starting to walk away.

“Shooting at a courthouse,” Dana relays to Robby, “not a mass cas, just a few people, two a little iffy, one they’re already doing CPR on, a few caught in the race to get out. Two dead on the scene.”

It takes a few seconds for Dana’s words to truly register with Jack, but when they do his hearing fades to only a sharp ringing in his ear. This wasn’t happening. He’d been so reticent at the beginning of your relationship, waited so long to give in and define it and hand his heart over to you, terrified he’d lose you because of himself and who he was, his imperfections, his past, his trauma, his PTSD, his baggage, as he thought of it. He feels so stupid now, in the moment, not having worried about how he could lose you from a random act of violence, that in the moments he can’t be there to protect you somebody could come in and rip you from him. Just like that. With the pull of a trigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I can confidently say this is the most unique date I’ve ever been on,” you tease Jack.

“Hey,” he pants, “me teaching you CPR is a great date.”

“It would be better if you took your shirt off,” you whisper and wink at him before letting your eyes linger on his arm.

“If I did that you’d be so distracted you’d learn nothing,” he smirks at you, sweat glistening on his skin just a little. Just enough to drive you nearly feral for him.

“I think I’ve got the compressions part down, but I may need more help learning the mouth to mouth part.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You fucking love it,” you shoot back at him, leaning into his space and bumping him with your shoulder.

He can’t help but kiss you. “Yes,” the word is muffled against your lips, “yes I do.” He gives you a firmer kiss this time before he pulls away. “But really. You should know how to do it, just in case. It will help you feel in control in the moment if the need for it ever arises. You’ll know what to do.”

You bite your lip and smile at him.

“What?” He eyes you with suspicion.

You shrug. “Nothing, I just love you so much. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I love you.”

He can see it in your eyes, how much you love him, can almost feel it physically squeezing him like a tight hug. He’s really not sure what he ever did to deserve you or your love. “I love you too, Doll.”

“I love you more, Peter.” Your face pulls up into that usual self-satisfied and silly grin you get sometimes when you call him that nickname. It’s a recent thing. You’re calling him it more and more though, it’s becoming a natural way of referring to him. From anyone else he would hate it, hearing it between another couple would make him roll his eyes. But from you? He loves it more than you’ll ever truly know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack spins around.

“Jack you can still go, we’ve got it covered.” Robby looks at Jack for a minute and then meets Dana’s eyes as she looks to him after taking her own look at Jack.

“What courthouse?” Jack asks. It’s quiet, controlled and clipped and almost missable in the chaos of the ED. He’s not looking at either of them, staring past them at a wall with a chest heaving more and more by the second as his face grows paler.

He tries to keep it together. Dana will say the name and it won’t be your courthouse and he’ll go straight to your actual courthouse, grab you, take you home and never let you leave. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he thinks.

“Jack-”

“What fucking courthouse?” It’s louder this time, almost enough to pause the chaos of the ED.

Jack’s voice drips with what sounds like rage to most of those who hear him but is unmistakably fear to Dana and Robby.

Neither of them have ever seen Jack like this, this scared, struggling this hard to keep it together, truly raising his voice for anything other than to quiet down an unruly patient. His eyes find Dana’s and they’re glassier than she’s ever seen them, the intensity of his gaze making it painfully clear he’s hanging on every word and the wrong ones will shatter him.

She swallows and opens her mouth and Jack knows what she’s about to say before she even says it. And she does. The name of your courthouse.

“I’ll triage.” He says it before Dana has even finished, the words hollow and breathless and commanding all at once. He spins and starts off to the bay doors with nothing more. He obviously knows from the report Dana gave that they won’t need triage. He just needed to get out of there and try to create an excuse to stay in the ambulance bay. He knows Robby won’t let him, that Robby and Dana already know you’re at that courthouse, could be a victim.

Robby and Dana share another look, So you work at a courthouse. This courthouse. “Fuck,” Dana mutters, “I really hope we don’t end up meeting her today.”

Jack’s hand dives in his pocket as he strides to the ambulance bay. He already knows in his heart that there’s not going to be a text from you saying that you’re okay. He hasn’t felt his phone buzz. He never even kept his phone on him until you.

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages, waking his phone and seeing none hits him like a freight train all the same, right in the chest. It threatens to bring him to his knees, make him sick, but he can’t. He sets it all aside. If you do come out of one of the ambulances he can hear in the distance you’re going to need him at his best. But what if you’re one of the two people dead at the scene? He has to shove that out of his mind too, can’t give into the complete panic that threatens to consume him.

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

His fingers fly across his phone automatically, calling you having become so routine. He prefers it so much to texting, hearing your voice, communicating more directly. “Call me,” he starts, “the second you get this message. Or fucking text me,” his voice breaks, “please. Fucking please.” He hangs up and calls again, knowing he’ll get your voicemail again but trying anyway because it’s all he can do.

He’s helpless, powerless, he can’t do anything to try and save you and that threatens to swallow him whole.

Your voicemail recording telling people to leave a message plays again and all Jack can wonder is if this is all he’ll have left of your voice in his life. Your voice on your mailbox, maybe some voicemails you’ve left him, videos, voice memos you’ve sent. All distorted by recording, not your real voice. He can’t remember what your real voice sounds like all of the sudden. What your laugh sounds like, how you sound when you’re sleepy or in the throes of pleasure or telling him you love him. God, did he even tell you he loved you the last time he saw you, when he said goodbye?

“I need you to call me,” he says into the phone again, pauses. “I love you.” He takes a ragged breath in and speaks through his teeth. “I love you so fucking much, so you have to be okay and you have to fucking call me.”

He sends a series of texts asking you to call him or text him or call the hospital or do anything to let him know you’re okay, asking if you are okay, asking where you are as though you’re going to respond. He already knows you’re in the back of one of those ambulances because of fucking course you are, because he’s not allowed to have anything good in his life apparently. How could he be so stupid to think differently?

“Hey, we don’t need triage for this. The numbers are controlled.” Robby walks out to stand next to Jack in the ambulance bay. “If you want to stay you can, but you can’t wait out here to see who shows up, you have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, jump on the first patient that pulls up, I know, I got it,” he interrupts Robby.

There’s a silence as Robby passes him a gown and ties for him before he does the same for Robby.

“Jack, if she’s in one you cannot-”

“Like fuck I can’t.” It’s just a statement. Cool and collected and a projection of indifference. It scares Robby more than if Jack had yelled.

“No, actually brother, you can’t. I’m telling you right now. You’re not working on her. We don’t work on family, on significant others, and you would tell me the exact same thing. It’s too risky, you’ll be too clouded.” Robby watches Jack’s jaw clench and roll as he stares out at the street.

He wants to argue that of course he’ll be clear, he’ll be focusing on saving you, he’ll have never been so clear in his life. But part of him knows that seeing you like that on his trauma table, your blood all over the table and him and his hands might make him freeze.

“Fine.” Jack whispers. “But if she’s,” Jack has to pause and take a shuddery breath. “If she’s gone or really going and it’s inevitable you have to let me in. You have to let me try to save her. You have to let me code her, Michael.”

He can taste the rising bile in his throat just at having to talk about coding you.

The first ambulance pulls up before Robby can respond and Jack’s on it so fast Robby’s surprised Jack doesn’t get smacked in the face by the door opening.

It’s not you. It’s someone who is very much not you and is clearly one of the iffy ones.

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

Jack forces himself to go emotionally numb as he listens to the paramedic rattle off vitals and history, trying so very hard to focus on this, something he can do, even if it’s not for you. By the time they hit trauma one Jack’s fine and in full swing, running it like he would any other trauma. Nobody on the team in the room with him suspects anything is amiss.

He hates the way he can’t see the other’s who come in, that he has to stay with this patient until they’re stable and can’t go looking for you. He chastises himself for not having brought you here before or at least having you meet Dana and Robby. They don’t even know what you look like, couldn’t identify you.

“Jack!” He glances at Dana who stands at the door as he preps for the chest tube. “What’s her name?”

He yells your name at her, impassive and stoic as he reaches for the scalpel, ignoring the looks everyone throws each other at the slightest tremor in his voice.

“I’ll look for her.” Dana promises. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He’ll fall apart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The restaurant you’re at has to be the fanciest place you’ve ever been to. It’s the hottest place in the city and you have no idea how Jack snagged reservations here for dinner to finish out celebrating your one year anniversary.

The lighting and low hum of other patrons talking to each other and glasses and silverware and plates tinkling is cinematic. You feel like the main character. But then that’s always how Jack makes you feel.

“I got you something.” He pulls out a wrapped rectangular object.

You click your tongue and tsk at him. “We said we’d do them at home! I didn’t bring yours!”

“I know. I have something for you at home too.” His eyes sparkle in the flickering candle light, a little smirk pulling up. “I didn’t mean for it to be a double entendre, but both are true.” You snort a laugh at him and take the gift from him. “Open it.” He’s still smiling, eyes still sparkling, but there’s something there. He’s nervous. It makes you even more curious.

You carefully unwrap the object until it reveals itself as a hardcover book. That same one Jack had in his hand a year ago and that you told him was bad and gave him a summary of over coffee.

“Oh, Jack,” you say softly, eyes getting a little watery. It’s so perfect. So sweet and sentimental. The book that brought you together, that gave you each other. It’s almost like a physical representation of the foundation of your relationship in a way.

“You have to open it,” he instructs you in a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says.

‘Move in with me?’ is written on the blank first page.

You look between the page and Jack. “Is this?” You look back at the page and then up at him again. “Are you really asking…?”

He nods. “Move in with me. Or move somewhere with me, we can get our own place, it doesn’t have to be my apartment. We basically live together anyway at this point. Let’s just make it official, yeah? Wherever you want, you can decorate however you want. Just as long as it’s our place.”

You bring a hand to your mouth for a second before using your napkin to dab at the inner corners of your eyes to stop the tears from falling and look back at him.

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you hum all dreamily.

“You better not tell anyone. Can’t have you ruining my street cred.” He smirks, but his expression and the way he fidgets show he’s still anxious. “So?”

You realize then you never actually answered him. Sniffling a little laugh and letting a few tears fall you give him his answer, voice thick and full of emotion. “Yeah, I think I’m willing to accept those terms. I’d love to move in with you… Peter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hears you counting to yourself before he sees you. “One, two…”

It’s not loud, just said in a normal voice, softer if anything because of how you’re panting, but Jack is so on edge and so desperate to find you he’d subconsciously been listening closely to his surroundings, military training kicking in. His head snaps to you and he doesn’t even know what to think when he sees you being rolled in on top of a gurney, performing CPR that would rival the quality of his own.

“Why is she..?” He hears Robby question the paramedic as you roll in.

“She was performing them just as well as we could and it was better to just scoop and run,” the paramedic explains. “She must have had one hell of an instructor.”

“Peter!” You yell, without looking up, not sure if he’s still here. You’re so used to it by now that the nickname is just what comes out of your mouth as you look for him. He’d texted you to let you know he was going in for a bit.

Jack could sob and the entire team in the room with him can feel a crushing tension shatter. Maybe he does get a little teary just from the sheer relief. He tells himself it’s sweat in his eyes.

“Yeah Doll?” He yells back, not giving a fuck about everyone hearing him call you Doll, and you calling him Peter, knowing full well he’s going to have so much explaining to do about this entire situation, the confusion in the room palpable.

“I’m okay!” This time he does laugh to himself.

“Yeah I’d say so,” he mutters, smiling. He’s still anxious to see you, get his own eyes on you, feel you with his own hands.

It’s only about thirty more seconds before his patient is stable enough and he can rip his gloves and gown off and start putting fresh gloves on as he walks into the trauma room you’d been wheeled into. Normally he’d yell out for someone to talk to him or ask what they’ve got but not this time. This time he doesn’t even care about who’s on the table, only the person who came off it. Only you.

You’re standing to the side now, watching Robby and the rest of the team work, impassive as pink tears stream down your face from the dried blood on it. You’re just so fucking overwhelmed by everything and now that you’re not doing CPR everything that’s happened is hitting you at once.

Jack says your name as he moves to you, needs his hands on you.

“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” He rushes out. His voice brings you back and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He goes to look you over but you latch onto him, hugging him tightly, shaking a bit.

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m, I’m sorry,” you start to rattle off, fisting at his scrub top and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. In the moment he might just be.

He hugs you back just as hard, kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t care who sees right now, all he cares about is you. “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought you were…” He doesn’t have to finish, you know what he means. “I can’t fucking lose you. I love you way the fuck too much.”

You’ve been so wrapped up in each other neither of you have noticed that Robby’s patient, the one you were doing CPR on, has started to code again. “Abbot, need you here!”

You let him go, nod at him. “Go on,” you whisper, “I’ll be right here. I’m okay. I love you more.” Jack nods at you and walks over, jumping in and assisting Robby.

It’s once you’re out of Jack’s arms, away from his warm body and more grounded in reality that you notice how cold you are, how you’re swaying because he was supporting you far more than you realized, how lightheaded you are, how your abdomen and chest really fucking hurt. You chalk it up to the adrenaline wearing off and being sore from the chest compressions you just did.

On the other side of the room an instrument tray gets knocked over, metal hitting the floor in a loud clang. It startles you, makes you jump and twist quickly to see what it was, if it was another gun, another shot. You feel something almost tearing, a sharp pain across your abdomen and lower chest, a feeling of sticky warmth against your shirt.

You sway a little, start to realize how much worse the pain is now. It’s bad enough that you can’t even make noise to express the pain. There’s no air in your lungs, you swear. You realize your lightheadedness is now much, much worse, that you’re shivering from how cold you are. Or are you just shaking? You can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense. The room isn’t even that cold. You shouldn’t be so cold. Not unless.

You pull your shirt up slowly and look down and run your hand over your skin and sure enough, there’s a bullet hole seeping blood, about half way between your nipple line and belly button, skin now covered in a dark bruise.

You cough a little, it’s quiet. It starts feeling like there’s water in your lungs. Like you can’t get any oxygen in even though you’re in a room full of it. The metallic taste in your mouth is what manages to seep into what’s left of your consciousness next. You cough again, into your hand, and feel something wet hit your skin. Blood.

It hits you. You’re drowning in your own blood. That’s why it feels like you can’t breathe. You’ve been shot. In a bad place, one of the worst places, Jack had told you that night. You get scared, feel your heart pounding. It feels like you’re dying. You don’t want to die, don’t want to leave Jack. You’d just finished moving into your new place together, were going to spend all weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You were going to make your home.

Time. You were supposed to have more time together.

“Hey, Jack,” you slur softly, struggling to keep yourself standing. Luckily he hears you. Your use of his first name and the slur to your voice has him panicking again already. Time slows as he turns around to take you in, eyes going from your face and the blood coating your teeth and trickling from your mouth as you try and smile reassuringly at him, down to your torso where you’re still holding your shirt up just enough for him and everyone else in the room to see the bullet hole and bruising marring your skin. “I think, I think I’m not good, it’s not good.” Your vision tunnels so fast you can just barely see Jack’s expression of sheer abject unadulterated horror and panic as you get out your last words. “Nipples to navel… no man’s land.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter. Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Yes, I worked in a bookstore through college.

Part Two is up!

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dismalflo · 2 months ago

Text

how it starts

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who like each other from the start ✩ 3.7k words

summary: you know Lily from a shared class, when she invites you to meets some of her friends, Sirius and Remus can't stop flirting.

cw: fluff, reader is a lil shy and insecure, the boys are very sweet, established wolfstar, pre relationship with reader

an: I really enjoyed writing this one and I think i might write a part two

You’re starting to regret agreeing to come. Lily, the sweet girl you met in an art class, had invited you out for drinks with her friends. She swore they were all lovely and that you’d fit in just fine, but the doubts are creeping in. You’re already late because of the bus, and being around new people has never been your strong suit. You try to remind yourself that the whole point of joining the art class was to make friends—backing out now would be stupid.

By the time the pub door comes into view, your hands are shaking. You’re certain you’ll need at least a week to recover from this, but despite it all, you keep pushing forward, determined not to fuck up your one chance.

Before you can even take in the atmosphere, you hear your name shouted across the room. It’s Lily, that lovely redhead you’ve been hoping would be your friend. She waves energetically, and you make your way over to her. The moment you make it over, she wraps you up in a big hug. Her warmth is a stark contrast to the cool night air outside.

"I’m so glad you came!" she nearly shouts in your ear, pulling away just enough to beam at you as if you’ve given her the greatest gift.

“Me too,” you murmur, offering a shy, nervous smile. “You okay?”

“I’m great!” she exclaims, spinning toward the group in a cramped booth. “Everyone, this is Y/N, the friend I told you about.” There’s a chorus of hellos, waves, and friendly smiles.

“You remember James, right?” she asks, pointing to a curly-haired man with glasses. You do remember him. He’s the guy who picks up Lily from art class sometimes. Always nice enough to offer you a lift, but you’ve never taken him up on it. You’ve never met a couple quite as sickly sweet as Lily and James, and you can’t help but feel a little envious of how perfectly they fit together.

You nod and give him a small smile, which he returns.

Lily guides you to the edge of the booth, and the man next to you shuffles over to make room. “Thanks,” you mutter, sitting down.

Lily continues the introductions, her enthusiasm contagious as she goes around the table, pointing to each person in turn. When she gets to the two seated on your left, her grin widens mischievously.

"And this is Remus and Sirius. Don’t listen to a word Sirius says.” She says this with such affection that you can't help but be intrigued. You look up at them, and your breath catches in your throat. They’re both strikingly handsome in different ways. Remus has that soft, almost ethereal quality, like the first light of dawn. Sirius, on the other hand, is all sharp angles and devastating beauty, the kind that could stop anyone in their tracks.

You can’t help but feel like you’re staring a little too long, and you quickly look away, hoping they didn’t notice the awe you felt.

Sirius, however, seems to have noticed. "Charming, Red," he says, making a face at Lily before turning to you with a roguish smile. "Nice to meet you, gorgeous." He winks, and you flush, unsure whether to laugh or run.

Remus rolls his eyes in mock exasperation, though there's a soft fondness in his gaze as he turns to you. “Please, ignore him. Nothing good ever comes from indulging him.”

You giggle, feeling a little more at ease. “It’s nice to meet you both,” you say with a smile. “I’ll try my best.”

Sirius grins like he’s won some kind of victory despite the fact youve just said you'll try to ignore him, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "You’ll fit right in, I’m sure," he says, taking a long swig from his pint.

"Stop being a menace," Lily scolds, but her smile softens the words.

As the conversation flows around you, you begin to relax just a little. It’s easy to get caught up in the energy of the group. You find yourself laughing along, the tension in your chest easing with every passing minute.

But then, Remus leans in—just a little too close—ensuring you hear him clearly. You can’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty with him suddenly so near, unsure how to react to the closeness.

"So, what do you do?" he asks, his expression soft with genuine curiosity.

“Oh, I work in a bookshop,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not exactly my dream job, though…” You drop your gaze, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention, avoiding the need to meet his eyes.

But Remus is persistent. He lowers his head, positioning himself so his gaze stays locked with yours. It’s impossible to look away now.

“What is it that you want to do?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“I’m not… I’m not sure yet, honestly. Still figuring it out,” you admit, shrugging as if to brush off the weight of uncertainty.

Remus mirrors your shrug, as if it’s second nature, and smiles reassuringly. “That’s okay. You’ll figure it out, smart girl.”

His words settle in your chest, a small but comforting warmth. You can’t help but smile back, grateful for his kindness.

Before you can respond, Sirius leans in, clearly unimpressed. “Stop hogging all her attention, Moony,” he says with a teasing grin. “There are other people here.”

“Leave him alone, Pads,” James adds with a playful wink. “I don’t know how you put up with him, Rem. Some bloody boyfriend.”

You're caught off guard, the teasing comment leaving you speechless. Hadn’t they both been flirting with you the entire time? You glance at Remus, your mind racing, before giving him a tentative smile.

“I didn’t realize you two were together,” you murmur, your voice too soft to carry over the buzz of the room. “You seem like a good match, though.”

Although you speak to Remus, it’s Sirius who answers, his grin wide and playful. “I’m glad you think so, gorgeous.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur of light-hearted conversation, the occasional laugh from you blending into the friendly banter at the table. It feels good to be surrounded by such warm company, and you do your best to push any lingering thoughts about Remus or Sirius to the back of your mind.

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It’s a few days before you hear from Lily again. You usually only speak through text, so when you see her calling, a wave of panic washes over you. You brace yourself for the dreaded conversation, certain that she’s about to tell you her friends think you're too quiet or strange.

But when you answer, it’s not at all what you expected. “Everyone’s been asking me to invite you again,” Lily says, her voice light and reassuring. “So, I just wanted to check in—did you enjoy yourself?”

Relief floods through you. You shouldn’t be surprised by her thoughtfulness; Lily’s always been considerate of your shy nature since the moment you met. “I had a lovely time, don’t worry,” you reply, smiling even though she can’t see it. “Thank you for inviting me.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end of the line before she speaks again, her tone slightly more hesitant. “There’s something else too… Remus and Sirius asked for your number. I told them I’d ask if you were okay with it.”

The unexpected request catches you off guard. “Oh…” You don’t know how to process it at first, your thoughts swirling.

Lily senses your hesitation and quickly reassures you, “They won’t hold a grudge if you’d rather not give it to them. It’s completely up to you.”

You take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “No… no, it’s fine. You can give it to them. That’s alright.”

“Okay, I'll pass it along then.” you can hear the smile in her voice. “We’re all planning on going to the beach on saturday, i’d like it if you’d come?” and god is it hard to say no to Lily, so you agree right away.

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You're unsure of the hasty acceptance of her invite now, analysing the way your body looks in the one-piece swimming costume and denim shorts, laid out on the beach while everyone else is swimming. You’ve been trying to read, but you’ve been stuck on the same page for the last half hour, your eyes constantly drifting toward Remus and Sirius. Even worse, they seem to notice, locking eyes with you every time. It makes you want to sink into the sand and disappear.

Footsteps draw closer, pulling your attention up again, only to be met with the sight of Sirius, freshly emerged from the water, droplets still glistening on his skin. Your cheeks burn.

“You look lovely, doll.” He says softly, almost as though he’s trying not to disturb something fragile.

“Thank you,” you reply, your voice betraying a hint of insecurity. It feels like you’ve been caught in some strange game all day, a competition between them, each trying to outdo the other with compliments and small gestures. It’s overwhelming, but also, rather sweet.

“But I’m sure you hear that all the time, pretty thing.” You expect to see a mischievous smirk, but instead, he’s looking into the distance, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, completely unaware of the weight of his words. “Why aren’t you coming into the water with us?”

“I don’t really… like swimming?” you say, the words tentative, as if afraid they might disappoint him.

“That’s alright,” he replies, his voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll keep you company.” With that, he stretches out beside you, lying down just a bit too close, his hand brushing against the side of your thigh.

Your heart skips a beat at the proximity, and for a moment, you wonder if the warmth you feel on your skin is coming from the sun or from him. You try to focus on the book in your lap, but the words blur before your eyes. It’s difficult to concentrate when your thoughts are racing, and the rhythm of Sirius’s voice still lingers in your mind.

You glance over at him, catching the way his chest rises and falls with each breath. There’s something disarming about the way he makes himself so present, without any sign of expectation, just simply existing beside you.

Before you can muster another word, another figure approaches—this time, it's Remus. You don’t realize how tense you’ve become until you feel his presence like a shift in the air. He’s still wet from the water, though his movements are quieter, more deliberate. When his gaze finds yours, it's different from the teasing look you’ve gotten from Sirius. There’s something warmer in it.

“Mind if I join you two?” Remus asks, a slight grin playing at his lips. It’s playful, but his eyes are soft, almost knowing.

Sirius shifts, giving Remus a nod of acknowledgment, though his body remains close to yours.

“Sure, handsome,” Sirius says, turning his head to give Remus an easygoing smile. “The more the merrier.”

“What about you, dove?”

“What about me?”

“Are you okay with us both interrupting you?”

“Oh, yeah of course” you give him a soft smile that earns you a beaming one in return.

“I was just telling her how pretty she looks, Rem,” Sirius adds with a sly grin, completely unbothered by his own flirting. You however, very bothered, pitch forward and put your head in your hands, embarrassed.

Both of them laugh at your flustered reaction, amused by how easily you become shy. Once you sit up and finally meet their gazes, the words tumble out without thinking.

“You both look very pretty…” you hesitate, panic creeping in, “or handsome, whatever… you prefer.”

Sirius leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “I think ‘pretty’ suits us just fine, don’t you, Remus?”

Remus chuckles, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Absolutely,” he agrees, his tone light.

You feel the heat of your embarrassment creeping back, but there's something strangely comforting about the way they’re both so at ease with you. The tension in your chest seems to dissipate a little as you realize that, despite the teasing, they’re not mocking you—they’re enjoying the moment with you, in their own playful way.

Sirius shifts again, this time sitting up to stretch his legs out. His proximity doesn’t change, though, and you notice how his hand subtly finds its way to rest beside you on the towel, fingertips brushing against yours. It’s a small gesture, but it sends a shock of warmth straight to your core. You glance at him quickly, wondering if he meant to or not. But when his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there, an openness that catches you off guard.

“I meant it, you know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost serious. “You really do look beautiful.” There’s no teasing in his tone, only sincerity.

You blink, unsure of how to respond. The words feel like they’re hanging in the air between you two, heavy and vulnerable.

Remus leans forward, “It’s okay, you know,” he adds, a little more serious than before, though his smile is still gentle. “We don’t bite. Just… relax.” He says it in such a soft way that you can’t help but nod, feeling a strange sense of safety in his words. He gives a reassuring pat to your knee but his hand seems to linger for longer than necessary.

It's starting to become impossible not to feel at ease with the two of them, lingering touches passing between the three of you all afternoon.

As the sun dips below the horizon, everyone climbs back into the cars they arrived in, and you spend most of the drive lost in a daze, staring out the window from the back seat. Remus is driving, his hand resting comfortably on Sirius' thigh. The atmosphere is calm, peaceful. Before you even realize it, the car is slowing to a stop outside your flat.

“Do you… do you want to come up for a cup of tea?” you ask, hesitant but not wanting the evening to end.

“If you’re sure, then we will,” Remus replies, his tone cautious, as if unsure of whether he's overstepping.

You nod eagerly, flashing a smile, and just like that, you're inside your kitchen, preparing cups of tea for the two men lounging in your living room. From the doorway, you can just barely make out hushed, frantic whispers. Although you can’t make out the words, the uneasy energy is enough to make a knot tighten in your stomach.

As you step into the room, mugs in hand, the whispering falls silent. The stillness only deepens the nervous flutter in your chest.

“Thank you, Poppet,” Sirius says with a grin, taking a sip of his tea.

Before you can sit down, Remus calls your name softly.

“Yeah?” you answer, your voice betraying the rapid beat of your heart as you turn to look at him.

“We wanted to ask you something, if that’s okay?” Remus says, his gaze gentle but serious.

You nod, your curiosity piqued, silently urging him to continue.

“Listen, we know this is a little… unconventional,” he starts, his words careful, “but we think you're lovely—”

“And gorgeous!” Sirius interrupts, his tone exuberant.

Remus gives him a pointed look before turning back to you. “Yes… and we were wondering if you’d want to—” He pauses, clearly choosing his words carefully, but Sirius can't wait any longer.

“Christ… Lovely girl, will you go out on a date with us?” Sirius blurts out, his voice both impatient and hopeful.

Your jaw drops in stunned silence.

The room seems to freeze for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest as you process Sirius’s words. It’s like you’ve stepped outside of your body, watching from a distance as your mind scrambles to make sense of what’s just happened.

You glance at Remus, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you see is soft curiosity mixed with a hint of nervousness—just like you feel. You turn to Sirius, who is practically vibrating with anticipation, his eyes wide and hopeful. It’s almost as if he's holding his breath, waiting for your response.

"I... I didn’t expect that," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you instantly feel the flush creeping up your neck.

Sirius laughs, a deep, rich sound that echoes in the quiet room. "Sorry, I know we’re kind of springing this on you. We just… we think you’re amazing,"

There’s an undeniable sincerity in his voice now, the playful teasing from earlier gone. Remus, too, is watching you carefully, his expression unreadable for a moment before he speaks softly.

"Take your time, okay?" he says, his voice low and reassuring. "We just wanted to know how you felt, no pressure."

You open your mouth, then close it again, unsure what to say. A thousand thoughts race through your mind—about the feelings you've started to develop for both of them, about the confusion, the surprise, the fact that both of them seem so genuinely interested in you.

It’s overwhelming, but not in a bad way. It's just... unexpected. You think about Remus’s quiet intensity, the way he listens to you with such care. But then Sirius, with his bold, teasing nature, somehow managed to worm his way under your skin, too, making you feel special in a way you never thought you deserved.

“Are you… are you sure?” you finally ask, feeling vulnerable but needing to know the truth.

At that, Remus rises and walks toward you, moving with quiet confidence. When he stops in front of you, he raises his hand, palm open, as if asking for permission. You remain still, and his hand gently lands on your shoulder, fingers trailing up your neck until they cup your cheek.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice firm yet tender, no hesitation to be found. His touch grounds you, the certainty in his words a balm to the fluttering nerves inside you.

You glance between them again, searching their faces, before your lips curve upward. “Then yes, I would love to,” you reply, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

Before you can even fully absorb your own answer, Sirius’s hand is in yours, his touch warm and eager, as if he can’t bear not touching you now.

Sirius grins widely, his eyes gleaming with excitement, and before you can blink, he's stepping closer. His thumb brushes against your skin, and it sends a spark straight through your chest.

"I’m glad," he says softly, voice a little huskier than before. There’s an intensity to him now, something beyond the teasing bravado. It makes your heart skip a beat.

Remus, who had been quietly watching the exchange, takes a small step toward you as well. The warmth of his presence, both of their presence, sends a calming wave through you. He’s not as brash as Sirius, but there’s something incredibly reassuring in the way he stands close, his gaze steady and gentle.

“You’re sure?” he asks, his voice a soft murmur, eyes searching yours with such care. His hand, still resting on your cheek, grounding you.

You nod, feeling your nerves slowly fade under their attention. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It’s as if the world tilts slightly, shifting into something new, something full of promise. The uncertainty in your chest dissolves as the two men stand in front of you, their warmth, their sincerity, and their shared attention making you feel like you’re exactly where you need to be.

Sirius leans in first, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, fleeting kiss, the gesture as tender as it is electrifying. It catches you off guard, leaving your skin tingling in the best way. When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"Don't worry, doll," he whispers, his voice light but full of affection

You barely have time to process the warmth of his words before Remus steps forward, his gaze unwavering as he looks down at you. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice so quiet, so sincere, that it sends a shiver down your spine.

The question takes your breath away. You can’t help but nod, your heart hammering in your chest.

Remus’s smile is soft, almost shy, as he leans in slowly, giving you ample time to pull away if you wanted. But you don’t. You want this—want him—so badly that the moment his lips meet yours, you melt into him. The kiss is gentle at first, a whisper of sensation, but it deepens as his hand shifts to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer.

The world seems to disappear, leaving only the feel of his lips against yours and the rush of emotions that swirl in your chest. When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, eyes locked.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he presses his forehead against yours.

Before you can respond, you feel Sirius’s presence behind you again, his hand brushing against your back, warm and steady. He leans down, his lips catching yours in a kiss that’s more eager than the first, but just as careful. It’s a different kind of warmth—intense, full of promise—and when he pulls back, there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You can hardly catch your breath, both Remus and Sirius’s touches lingering like a slow-burning fire against your skin. The kisses, tender yet fervent, have left you dizzy and wide-eyed, unsure of how to process everything that’s just happened. But even in the overwhelming haze of emotions, you feel something undeniably special, something that’s hard to name but impossible to ignore.

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let me know what you think of this! <3 i appreciate all feedback

#flo'sfics #marauders au #marauders fics #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar x y/n #poly!wolfstar fic #poly!wolfstar imagine #poly!wolfstar drabble #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x y/n #poly!wolfstar #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader

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gracieheartspedro · 8 months ago

Text

Dagger In The Heart

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

word count: 6.1k words

warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.

description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.

author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;

“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.

You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen.

At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him.

It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could.

He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.

You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys.

You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable.

He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance.

His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you.

“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands.

You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”

“Come meet the crew!”

Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom.

The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend.

His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept.

His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you.

When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room.

She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty.

You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”

You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen.

“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”

You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”

“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”

Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister.

Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”

Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated.

But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink.

He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit.

You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often.

“So, you and Matt met in science class?”

You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”

“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”

“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”

You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one.

No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?

She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”

You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot.

You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.

“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”

She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms.

Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”

“Why not?”

She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you.

“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”

Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!

“Your… boobs are tattooed?”

She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”

The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight.

Sure.

But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?

“What if your family wasn’t around?”

Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg.

“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months.

You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”

She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”

Now you are just lying.

Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away.

You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table.

Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship.

You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang.

“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him.

“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”

You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”

“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”

Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”.

God, he made you feel terrible about yourself.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.

Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you.

“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”

Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”

He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief.

When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs.

“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase.

You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie.

You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.

“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”

The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you.

She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry.

“Let’s see what you fit into!”

She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry.

She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you.

“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“

“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”

“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”

You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much.

She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply.

“Loose.”

She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in.

“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”

You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”

“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you.

“Goodnight, girls!”

And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it.

“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”

You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track.

The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago.

You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly.

“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas.

You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly.

“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”

You swallow, “Jealous?”

“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”

You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?

“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”

“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”

She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances.

“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”

Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head.

“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”

You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.

Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just.

The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.

“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it.

She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”

You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you.

“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”

“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Is he mean to you all the time?”

You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway.

“Most of the time.”

“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”

You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?

So you shrug.

Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment.

“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”

“Ellie, I d-”

“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”

You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first.

“Show me now.”

You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes.

“Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.

Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.

Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating.

She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips.

Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”

Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.

Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola.

You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.

“Holy shit, Ellie.”

You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself.

Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before.

She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.

“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already.

You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you.

“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out.

You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them.

“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”

You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way.

She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more.

“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”

You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it.

You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating.

“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”

Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”

“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”

You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time.

She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward.

Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it.

You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty.

“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good.

When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.

You think your heart is going to stop beating.

Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.

“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted.

Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”

She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones.

You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut.

“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”

You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”

She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”

You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you.

You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action.

“God, that cunt is so pretty.”

You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right.

“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips.

“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”

You halt your movements, “Ride him?”

“You’ve never ridden him before?”

Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories.

She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure.

“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”

The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious.

“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.

“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.”

You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets.

“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.

“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.

“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”

You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”

Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response.

“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Ellie, fuck!”

She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself.

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”

You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences.

“Jesus Christ…”

“It feels so good…”

“I want this pussy forever…”

You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high.

“That was per-”

“Babe!!”

Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.

You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps.

You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room.

He’s drunk.

“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.

“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum.

While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew.

“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.

He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse.

“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.

You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat.

“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room.

You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”

Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”

When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda.

Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality.

“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder.

Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”

She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”

“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”

taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)

@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna

#writing this took so long cause I hate everything I write sometimes #thanks for you patience #anon request #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou part 2 #ellie williams au #gracieheartspedro

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lostintransist · 29 days ago

Note

Would love a continuation to your gym antics with maybe possibly Simon meeting Reader and seeing her deliver 23 psychic damage to every creep in the gym.

Then MAYBE they all realize that they’ve all been interested in (respectfully obsessed with) the same person (reader). They witness The Ultimate Douchebag Takedown and watch her do reps with said douchebag’s max weight with so much spark in her eyes. Then they see her be super sweet with a younger beginner or the gym’s dog that roams the shop or some shit

So sometimes stories get away from me and I couldn't figure out why they would all be at a public gym at the same time. My brain kept going, but if they are all together why wouldn't they be on base?? Anyway, my incessant need to answer the unspoken why has led us here. Enjoy! ☺️

If the damn desk jockeys would get off their asses and finish dealing with the fucking problem they would be able to go home. Two weeks in this hotel because the paper pushers wouldn’t approve something more than an economy room in a relatively cheap option. The core of Task Force 141, Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap were nearing blows.

Two queen beds made it hard for any of them to get enough space to stretch out. Everyone took turns rotating who shared with Soap. The man rolled. He didn’t just roll, he would cuddle and then end up sideways in the bed over whoever happened to be sharing with him. Made sleeping rough.

The piss-poor gym/pool set up on the first floor became an outlet for every man. They went in shifts. It wasn’t discussed so much as whoever was the closest to sending a brother through the wall between the bedrooms and the bathroom would nip out to run down their anger on the treadmill or splash laps in the pool.

Now due to the lack of overlapping none of the men knew they had their eye on the same bird. It wouldn’t have helped if they had known.

Price and Ghost ran into you more than once in the hot tub. They would slip into the chilly water and push until their muscles burned and then join you who read or watched something on your phone. Gaz and Soap found you on the treadmill singing quietly as you walked at a speedy clip. Every time the door opened to the gym you stopped singing.

Gaz spoke to you first.

“You can keep singing, don’t mind me. Feel free to turn up the volume on the music too.”

Instead of complying you laugh. Kyle stands near the door, arms folded as he squinted at all the equipment.

“Na, I get a bit shy. Thanks, though.” You offer a smile that is reflected in your eyes. “You here long?”

Gaz laughed through his nose, “Who knows? Trying to get home but the paperwork people at the job are apparently not in the same kind of rush.”

“You too? Damn. What is with them? Do they think I like sleeping on the cardboard they call a mattress?” The animation in your face pulls Gaz in. Bright expressions that show not an iota of mistrust or hiding something.

“They must not travel much for work or they would get us home faster huh?” He crosses the room and points to the treadmill next to you, “Mind if I join you?”

“Go right ahead,” you gesture at the machine. “Conversation would be a nice change.”

The two of you laughed through the last twenty or so minutes of your workout.

Price met you next.

He was one more stupid pun away from unloading his service weapon into his men. He had slammed into the muggy air of the pool room. Without even a glance around he stripped down to his speedo and stomped down the steps into the water. Fucking hotel pools were never deep enough for diving. Five laps and his shoulders burned enough to slow down. Pushing back against gravity he stood. Running a hand over his hair, face, and head, to clear some of the water he looked around for the first time.

There you were, eyes carving lines long his muscles from the hot tub.

“Need something, sweetheart?”

The time it takes you to drag your gaze from the water lapping at his stomach to his eyes sends chills down his spine.

“Na, just enjoying the view. Not often I get a strip tease by accident.”

Price couldn’t help but laugh. He had to have several years on you but the way you look at him has him wishing he were here alone.

“Sometimes a man forgets he might not be the only person in the pool.”

Snorting, you step back and sink lower into the bubbling water.

The bubbles dissipate as you become a floating head.

“Shit,” straightening you look to the wall where the timer is.

“If you don’t mind company I can fix that on my way over?” Price offers, lifting a brow and his cheeks in a smile.

“I would love some company, in fact,” you give him a sultry smile.

Since your face firmly tracks his motion up and out of the pool and to the timer by the time he steps into the heated water his cheeks are as red as his speedo. He is pruned when he finally leaves. You left twenty minutes before he could stand straight without the pressure of his speedo cutting the blood supply off to his everything.

Soap is neck deep in a maladaptive daydream about having a wife and three bairns screeching across the heath as the wind plucks at them when you enter the gym. He moved at a light jog. Feet falling lightly on the belt he isn’t breathing hard.

A clang and ringing of metal is enough to pull Soap back to his body. Glancing over he sees you wincing and pressing your massive water bottle to your chest to stop the metal from singing.

“All good over there?” He lifts both brows as his head tilts slightly.

Your tongue makes an appearance under your top lip as you push a lung full of air from your nose.

“Ever just have one of those days where the seconds take too long to pass?” You looked at him so earnestly that Soap reached out and slowed down to a walking pace.

“Too many damn times. Would a chat help reset the clock watching?”

The fight to keep from your face crumpling had Soap pulling out his threadbare handkerchief and passing it over.

“Time does tricky things to me too,” Soap offered softly.

You pressed the fabric to your nose and coughed to clear your throat and eyes.

“Thanks.” Sniffing you take a shaky breath, “Watching anything interesting lately?”

“Can’t sit still long enough for TV but been seeing the wildest one-person skits on my socials. Favorites have to be a girl’s group chat gone wild and an enemies-to-lovers story with family drama and an ex who won’t get out of the way.”

You light up, hand flying away from your face as you lean toward him.

“Oh my god! Do you think she is the other woman and that’s why she didn’t tell anyone what the hell was going on?”

The time is spent passing back and forth thoughts on stories more interesting than what writers’ rooms had put out in decades.

Ghost meets you last. Well. Yes, he was last but he didn’t really meet you so much as wake trying to avoid being smothered to death.

Falling asleep in the hot tub is not recommended. Even if he could keep his nose above water while sitting at the bottom of the small pool, he shouldn’t fall asleep. He had been the one to share a bed with Soap last night. Instead of swaddling the man like a newborn Ghost had given up on sleeping through the night. Haunted him now.

Eyes snapping open he glares up at you. His head is pinned between your hand and the floor. A quick external assessment tells him that his mask is still on, and the bubbles have stopped. He must have passed out hard.

“Hi,” you study both his eyes before blinking and taking in him. “Since you woke and have normal pupil reactions, I am going to assume you don’t need any naloxone?”

“No.”

“Okay.” The odd look you give him is overshadowed by your fingers sliding off his skin. Damn. Why did that feel so good? “Can you move your long ass legs then so I can enjoy some time in the water?”

Snapping into a sitting position Ghost curses the fact his ears are out. He gets pink in the tips of his ears when embarrassed.

“Sorry.” Ghost ran a hand through his short hair, surprised by the wetness there, “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

A jet caught him in the back. With a grunt he shifted. The pressure from the blasting water left his skin itching. The bubbles were nice though. Stretching his arms along the curve of the tiles he notices your eyes follow his wingspan.

“Do they even make beds big enough for you here?” You question as you step in with a hiss and hand clutching the balance bar.

He doesn’t know why he replies. He isn’t normally this chatty. The lack of sleep must be stealing away his senses and filling him up with a bevy of words.

“I’m not that big.”

You sit across from him. He can feel the drift of your legs in the water above his where they stretch along the bottom.

The glance you send him lands somewhere particular, even with the barrier of the moving water. A slow bob of your head and the lift of your brows accompany your disbelieving tone.

“Must have been the water distortion.”

“Lots of things about me are distorted,” Ghost mutters.

The sputtering laugh you let out has you covering it up with a cough.

“That was terrible. Are all of your jokes that bad?”

“Worse.”

“Ooh, honesty. Well then, let’s hear them?”

Ghost narrows his eyes at you as he tells you the tank joke.

“I see your tank joke and raise you one of my own; two soldiers are in a tank; one looks at the other and says blub.” The waggling of your brows is what tipped him over the edge into snorting.

Back and forth it went until you rub your fingertips together and proclaim yourself cooked. With a smile and a nod you disappear. Ghost spends far too long staring at the ceiling thinking about your hands on him.

They run into you day after day after day. Sometimes in the coffee shop within walking distance or a cafe. But they always run into you alone and never mention you to the others. When orders finally arrive that they can return home each man searched the building over twice looking for you. No luck.

Check-out runs smoothly, leaving them loitering with their gunny sacks in a pile by the complimentary couches and chairs in the lobby. Was there an actual purpose for these couches other than decoration? No one ever seemed to use them. This was the discussion happening between the men that seemed to conveniently forget that their asses sat on the decorations.

Ghost’s eyes widening have everyone looking.

There you are. Backpack over on shoulder and a small suitcase wheeling

Not one of them is confident enough to approach you with the others watching. That leaves all of them waiting and hoping you stop and say hello and here is my number before goodbye.

“Thanks! I had a good stay,” your voice carries over your shoulder to them. Each man tightens up like they were about to breach a building.

Turning a saccharine smile settles on your face as your eyes connect to each man in turn. Striding up to the chair placed neatly between the two couches they sat on you settle both hands on the back, the luggage near your leg.

“Gentlemen, thank you for making the say endurable. I will be sending your warmest regards to Colonel König when I get back to base.” Lifting your hand to your forehead you flick them a bastardized salute and stride out the front door.

The only sound following your pronouncement is the ringing of the phone behind the front desk.

“Did we get fucking honey potted?” Gaz looks at Price, aghast.

“It’s only honey potting if you spill state secrets,” Soap chimes in as he pops his neck slowly.

“Says the man who has been honey-potted before,” Ghost snarked, fingers digging into the weave of his jeans.

“It wasn’t Soap,” Price mutters as his fingers begin to work his mustache, “That John wasn’t SAS.”

“Wait,” Soap looks at each of them with a sharp gaze. “She got all of us? How the hell did she manage that?”

“Looks like KorTac has gotten a better hiring manager,” Price slaps his hands to his thighs, standing. “We will not be discussing this again.”

A chorus of ‘agreed’ and they consider the matter closed.

And other than the time they run into you in the field, that is.

Masterlist

#cod #fanfiction #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #soap cod #john price x reader #soap mactavish #price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #captian john price #johnny x reader

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cherry-pop-elf · 6 months ago

Text

Kiss it Better Pt:2

Curly x Reader

AN: Holy shit I did NOT expect all the love and support from the original like god damn! People begging for a part 2 and everything (I’ll make sure to tag those who asked for one at the bottom) Like oh my god thank you guys so much! This means the WORLD to me! As a disabled person trying to make his medical issues more accurate it means so much that yall love it and how I write in general! Thank you!

SUM: You and Anya were busy dealing with changing Curly’s wrappings together. Sharing stories, and just trying to stay positive. That’s when you just had to ask. What’s going on between her and Jimmy?

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, Anya sharing her trauma so pls take care of yourself, medical gore, medical situations, light violence,

“Thank you again for handling Curly’s medication. I’m sorry I just-“ Anya would try to explain again how sorry she was that she was struggling to do her job. A job you could never blame her for. She’s been through a traumatic event of the ship crashing, and already had to try and save a near corpse. She deserves to breathe.

“Anya it’s fine, really. I’m his romantic partner as well. It be weird if I didn’t pick up some responsibility and tried to take care of him. You also deserve time to rest. You’ve done so much for him, and saved his life. Give yourself more credit. It’s not a sin to ask for help.” You would try and comfort her, as you would grab the fresh bandages for Curly.

He needed a lot of them, and they had to be changed out relatively often. He’s basically just exposed meat after all. The risk of infection was high, which you were wondering how he didn’t even catch any yet, so he needed alot of attention and care.

If only Pony Express had packed more, because the med bay was running out of them fast. Very very fast. Might be only able to maybe re wrap him a few more times now. Had you terrified because as much as you wanted to take care of him you had to leave some bandages for the rest of the crew. In case of another emergency.

You wish you could be doing more.

“We’re going to undress you. Is that alright?” Anya would ask Curly, who in return would give two blinks to indicate that he consented to being stripped. Was gonna have to be done but it was still so kind of Anya to still ask before hand.

The two of you would soon get to work on changing out his bandages. A very slow, careful, tedious job. One that normally took over a hour to do properly. So it’s time to kill some of that empty space.

“Ya know, this isn’t the first time over had to wrap up a certain someone because they got hurt. I remember a time when we were at a Ski resort with his family. Someone wanted to try a path that was meant for experts and before you know it someone’s returning to the lodge with his leg bone sticking out of his pants.”

Anya gave a little ‘oh my’ as you just laughed at the memory. Curly just adored sports. Especially the winter variety. You felt so blessed that he had a job that paid so well. Well enough that the two of you, and his own family sometimes, could go and enjoy vacations like that.

You wonder if the two of you will ever see the snow again.

“That sounds rather nice, minus the whole breaking his leg. To share a cabin together with someone. Cuddle for warmth together by the fire place. Sounds really nice.” She would speak dreamily. As if she knew it was simply that. A dream. Something that will never happen again. No matter how hard she tried.

Like something was wrong with her.

“I bet you’ll get that moment. When we escape here you’ll have a flooding of men and women coming your way. The brilliant woman who managed to fight death and win. Again and again. The most brilliant woman to ever live.” You would praise her, as you were very mindful of Curly’s catheter. As if that needed to be messed with.

“Yeah…..Maybe……” Anya didn’t really seem to actually respond. Was like she was just saying words for the sake of words. Had you wondering.

Even before the crash she had just started acting off one day. From being a cheerful woman who was gentle and full of smiles, to being so quiet and scared by the littlest of sounds. Like she expected someone to jump from around the corner and attack her. Any feeling of safety and comfort vanished.

You were worried.

“Say, Anya-“ You began to speak, while disposing the bandages safely into the bio hazard bag. “-Is everything ok? I mean duh we’re not doing to hot with being, ya know, crashed and all. But besides that. You just seem…..different.”

Anya seemed to not hear you. She simply worked on checking over Curly’s body. Hunting down any infections, looking for possible bed sores, monitoring his healing, and getting ready to do the ever so gentlest of sponge baths.

Anya did always get in the zone whenever someone was hurt. You figured she didn’t catch what you said because of it.

So repeated yourself, as you stood next to her. Impossible to miss what you were asking, as you would help Curly sit up and just move his joints to better reach with the sponge.

The only sounds in that room were Curly’s whines of discomfort. Whines to indicate truly how much pain he was in when even the pain killers can numb it.

“Anya….I know you can hear me. Is everything alright? Not to be rude but I’m kinda asking you a question.” You would be gentle, but she still couldn’t help but looked distressed.

“Anya what’s-“ You would reach a hand out, to comfort her, but the second it was raised towards her she would immediately flinch. Her startled reaction ended up even making her drop Curly’s leg on the table.

Oh that’s gotta hurt.

For a fleeting moment you put Anya on the back burner, and just focused your attention on comforting Curly. How he gave a weak sob from the intense pain.

“Shhhh I know Curly Fry. I know. It’s gonna be ok. It was an accident. You know she didn’t mean it. Shhh.” You would kiss his forehead, as Curly had a muscle spasm through his body from the intense shock to his system. So exhausted and in so much pain.

“It’s gonna be ok. I promise. I love you so much. Just think about our future. How we will get off this ship, and have that family. Have our own baby-“

The moment you said baby, that’s when Anya finally cracked.

Her hands were now covering her face, as she just broke down into sobs. Sobs that sounded so hoarse. Like she’s done it so many times that her body was just abused from it. Left you so worried and confused.

What the hell is going on here?

“Anya, what’s wrong? What did I say?” You would gently guide her to a chair, and worked on stroking her hair. Giving her as much comfort as you would to Curly. The same gentle love as he would get. Love she deserved.

It took a while for her to catch her breathe, and you didn’t rush it because it really seemed she needed it, but her own trembling body was finally able to quite down.

“I need to tell you something. I need to tell you something about Jimmy-“

You were quick to kneel down infront of her, and was ready to take in every last word she was going to say. Maybe what secrets she held could finally explain why the hell you all were crashed here. Why Jimmy crashed you all.

“Jimmy ra-“

That’s when the door opened.

As if that bastard had a sixth sense for whenever people were talking about him. That same annoyed expression, same sneer, same empty eyes.

All three of you kinda froze in time now. Looking at him, as he looked back at you all. Scanning you. As if judging to figure out what was being said before entering.

“Hey….Captain….” You swallowed, as you would return to standing. Anya herself remained in her chair, with her head down. Didn’t seem she trusted herself in showing any expressions right now.

“What were you guys talking about?” He asked, as he seemed slightly on edge. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well or had too much caffeine. Just this tension of paranoia was in the air. Like he was worried about something.

“Just about the bandages. We’re starting to run low, and Anya is just getting worried about having enough.” Wasn’t a complete lie. The best lies were the ones with truth sprinkled in.

“Of course he’s wasting our supplies.” He scoffed, before walking over to the table. You were trying to give Curly some respect with grabbing something to cover him up with, but it was like Jimmy wouldn’t let you. The stare he gave you, when you grabbed the clean hospital gown, made you just freeze in place.

It was just so full of hate.

It was just so full of disgust.

It was just cruelty in dark eyes.

It was just focused on you. As if Anya didn’t even exist right now. Like she meant nothing to him. Nothing but the wind in the air. Something you don’t even bother in registering every day. Like how you breathe in air in your lungs.

You don’t notice until it’s gone.

“Has he been given his medication?” He would ask you, as his hands would be firm on the bed side. Just seeming to assert his dominance with standing over the man. Like some got over the little people.

“Yes Jimmy. He’s been medicated. We are actually in the middle of washing him. It would be nice if there was some privacy-“ You tried to gently hint at, only for it yo fall on deaf ears.

"The crash really did do a number on you. You don’t even have a dick anymore. Just holes huh-?” Jimmy would scoff, as that was your final straw. You would give Jimmy a hard hip bump, and quickly covered Curly up. To give him dignity and respect.

“Hey-! Watch it! Don’t think because you are Curly’s little eye candy doesn’t mean you can go pushing people around-“ Jimmy would bark at you.

You didn’t feel fear.

Jimmy was messing with YOUR man now. Curly deserved dignity and respect. He doesn’t deserve to be called a ‘set of holes’ no way in hell. No one deserved that and ESPECIALLY not Curly.

“Will you just shut up?! What the hell are you even doing here?! Aren’t you the Captain now? Captains are suppose to be doing whatever it takes to help the crew. All you’ve been doing is walking around and insulting everyone! It’s like you don’t want us to be saved. Be a Captain and take some responsibility already-!”

The anger that he had for you was terrifying. You swore it was like a switch. He suddenly seemed taller, bigger, angrier, more intense. You felt like you were shrinking more and more. Like you would melt into a puddle under that heated stare.

But you refused to.

For Curly.

“Listen here you-“

SLAP

You smacked him across the face. Was like the world went mute. No one was so much as breathing. Just the stares of shock from Anya and Curly.

“Get. Back. To. WORK.”

You ordered, and he listened.

He would hold his red cheek, and walked away like a dog with its tail between its legs. As if he was all talk and no bite. That he couldn’t bring himself to be more than an angry voice.

Someone needed to keep him in his place.

“Can this damn ship get any more hectic?” You sighed with your fingers to the bridge of your nose. Just trying to think clearly.

That’s when Anya found her voice.

“I’m pregnant.”

You opened your eyes wide, and was frozen in place.

Did you hear that right? No no. No way. Why would she be pregnant? How would she get pregnant? Who would get her…

“Oh my god.”

You slowly turned around to Anya with the puzzle pieces falling into place. You finally realized what had happened.

Jimmy never was a responsible man.

@meheheasasa @letmebedelutional @trashcansally @balanahala562

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willowsnook · 3 months ago

Text

cat and mouse

jack hughes x reader

Hockey was your favorite sport but you hated most hockey players. They were cocky, commanded every room they were in, and expected panties to always drop at their feet. You’d had your fair share of run ins with the type when you went to BU and working in the industry post grad meant you had to deal with a lot of annoying personalities regularly. But you were good at keeping your work and personal life separate.

It seemed your luck had run out tonight though. Every Thursday night, you met your friends at a small bar in downtown Newark to chat about the week and pregame the weekend. The bar was a good in between of being a dive and a sportsbar so to you it was perfect. It was busier than usual tonight, a group of tenish guys seated at your regular table much to your annoyance.

“Wait those guys look so familiar,” your friend Rachel said, eyeing them over her drink. “I think they’re Devils players. Right y/n?”

As the hockey girl of your friend group you sighed, but looked over. Sure enough she was right. Your friends buzzed with excitement, the single ones anyways. Conversation carried on after the temporary distraction and you were buzzed after a while. Getting up to get another drink, you looked for an opening but didn’t find one.

You tapped on a figure in front of you, hoping to squeeze in.

“Excuse me,” you started and he turned around. You started to ask if you could slip by him but he cut you off.

“No pictures tonight sweetheart,” he said, a brief look of annoyance on his face.

“Awesome,” you deadpanned. “Can you move then so I can get a drink?”

He blinked in surprise, his face flushing while the guy he was next to burst out laughing.

“Nice going Jacky,” his friend said grinning. He moved to the side to let you through and you ignored his gaze that was still trained on you.

“Let me at least buy you a drink,” he offered, a smirk back on his face as he took in your appearance.

“I’m good,” you said, not even looking over at him.

Jack wasn’t used to rejection. Especially not from someone who looked as good as you did tonight. He leaned against the bar, watching as you waved the bartender down without sparing him another glance.

“Come on, one drink,” he tried again, flashing a grin he was sure had worked a thousand times before. “Consider it an apology for the whole ‘no pictures’ thing.”

You let out a dry chuckle, finally looking at him. “You think I care that you’re a hockey player?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second. “I mean… most people do.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

His friend from earlier—who you now recognized as Dawson Mercer—let out another loud laugh. “Man, she’s really not into you.”

Jack shot him a glare before turning his attention back to you. “So, you’re a hockey fan then?”

You shrugged, “Something like that.”

“Let me guess—Rangers fan?”

You scoffed. “Please. I have standards.”

Jack’s brows shot up in amusement. “Oh, so you do like the Devils.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

He grinned, intrigued. “You’re kind of killing me here, sweetheart.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you deadpanned.

Dawson practically doubled over laughing, and even the bartender gave a knowing smirk as they passed your drink over. You grabbed it, giving Jack one last look.

“Listen,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “I get it. You’re used to girls fawning over you. But I’m just here to drink with my friends. So… enjoy the rest of your night, Jacky.”

You didn’t wait for a response, turning on your heel and heading back to your table. Your friends were already whispering excitedly, having watched the exchange unfold.

“Oh my God, you just walked away from Jack Hughes,” Rachel whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, and?” You plopped back down, taking a sip of your drink.

“And he’s, like, Jack Hughes!”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly. That’s the problem.”

From across the bar, you felt a pair of eyes still on you. You didn’t have to look to know it was Jack.

“I have to have her,” Jack said to Dawson, his eyes not leaving you even as you walked back to your friends.

“I feel like I just witnessed history,” Dawson said grinning.

“What’d I miss?” Luke asked, as he came back from the bathroom.

“Jack turned all of his charm on this girl and she literally gave him the biggest look of disgust I have ever seen,” Dawson told him gleefully while Jack rolled his eyes.

“Where is she so I can shake her hand?” Luke joked, knowing way too well how often that reaction was not the case.

Luke scanned the bar, his eyes landing on your table. "Wait, I know her. That's Y/N. She works for the team's PR department."

Jack's head whipped around to face Luke. "What? How do you know that?"

"She helped me set up my social media accounts when I first got signed," Luke explained. "She's actually pretty cool. Knows her hockey too. She’s works with the executives mostly, so I doubt you would have ran into her."

Jack's interest piqued even further. A girl who worked for the team, knew hockey, and wasn't impressed by him? This was a challenge he couldn't resist.

"I'm going over there," Jack announced, straightening his shirt.

Dawson grabbed his arm. "Dude, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you. Let it go."

But Jack shrugged him off, already making his way towards your table with Luke tailing behind. Your friends noticed him approaching before you did, their eyes widening and you turned your head to see what they were looking at. You grinned widely, eyes lighting up and Jack relaxed. Game over, he thought.

“Luke!” You exclaimed, rising to greet him. The younger Hughes brother’s eyes widened as you hugged him, feeling the burn of Jack’s glare in his skin. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, y/n,” he said warmly grinning down at you.

“Buy me a drink?” You asked, ignoring Jack completely. Luke’s eyes filled with amusement, catching on to what you were playing at and nodded, beckoning for you to follow him.

“You know this is going to make him crazy,” Luke warned as you made it back to the bar. Jack stayed behind, charming your friends to recover his ego.

“I doubt it, I’ve never even seen him before tonight,” you waved your hand dismissing the idea.

“This is Dawson by the way,” Luke introduced and you gave him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Dawson said. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you, I didn’t know you worked for the Devils.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Generally my job is PR projects for leadership in the org. I only met Luke because I was covering for Madison when she was out.”

You chatted with Luke and Dawson a while longer before you decided to call it a night. Bidding both the guys goodbye you headed outside, unaware of someone following behind you.

“Not going to say goodbye?” Jack called out, his lips turned up as your eyes settled on his face.

“I’ve said it to the people who need to hear it,” you replied, looking down at your Uber app. Jack walked closer to you and you braced for whateve ridiculous thing he was going to say next.

“You know I’m enjoying the hard to get act you’re playing,” he said and you snorted. “It’s just going to make me want you more babe.”

A car pulled up next to you and you closed the distance between you and Jack, your lips near his ear.

“Too bad we can’t always get what we want,” you purred before pulling away and stepping into the car.

—---------------------------------------------------

“Hey lover boy, heard you got your ego knocked down a couple of pegs this weekend,” Nico chirped to Jack as he entered the locker room.

Jack rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Jesper chimed in with a grin. "Word travels fast. Heard you got completely shut down by some girl at the bar on Thursday."

"She didn't shut me down," Jack protested, but his teammates' laughter told him they weren't buying it. "Whatever, it's not a big deal."

But it was a big deal to Jack. He couldn't stop thinking about you all weekend - your sharp wit, the way you'd completely dismissed him, how good you looked in that outfit. It was driving him crazy.

As the team filed out onto the ice for practice, Jack hung back for a moment, catching Luke's arm.

"Hey, that girl from the other night - Y/N. You said she works here, right?"

Luke eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“No reason,” he replied quickly.

“Dude haven’t you had enough?” He questioned. “She clearly isn’t interested.”

“She just doesn’t know me,” Jack complained to his brother. “She’s literally so hot, I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I know she’s hot but she’s not going to sleep with you,” Luke said, trying to hide his laughter at his brother’s whining.

“We’ll see.”

Jack Hughes wasn’t used to losing. Especially not like this.

For the next week, he tried everything to get your attention.

Monday: You were grabbing coffee at the arena’s café when a shadow loomed over you.

“Let me guess—oat milk latte, extra shot of espresso?” Jack said, sliding into line behind you.

You turned, unimpressed. “Bold of you to assume.”

He smirked. “I like a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your order. When you went to pay, the barista waved you off.

“He already covered it,” she said, nodding toward Jack.

“Consider it a peace offering,” he added, looking far too pleased with himself.

You grabbed your drink without another word, but you heard Luke’s quiet groan from a nearby table.

“This is going to be a disaster.”

Wednesday: A massive bouquet of roses arrived at your office. The card read:

"For the only person in this building who doesn’t think I’m charming. – JH"

Your coworkers swooned. You barely glanced at them before handing the entire arrangement to the receptionist.

“Want these?” you asked.

She gasped. “Wait, seriously? These are gorgeous!”

“Knock yourself out,” you said, walking away without a second thought.

Jack, watching from down the hall, groaned.

“This girl is impossible,” he muttered.

Friday: You were in the press box during morning skate when a puck suddenly landed on the ledge in front of you.

You glanced down to see Jack grinning up at you from the ice. He tapped his stick against the boards, waiting.

You picked up the puck, reading the sharpie-scrawled message: Drinks tonight? You pick the bar.

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for him to see you… then you casually tossed the puck behind you without even reading the rest.

Jack’s jaw dropped as his teammates erupted in laughter.

“Oh man, that was brutal,” Dawson wheezed, skating up beside him.

Luke skated over next, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Dude. Just give up.”

But Jack just grinned, eyes locked on you as you turned back to your work.

“Not a chance.”

—--------------------------------

If you were being honest with yourself, you were having fun playing this game with Jack and your opinion of him was starting to change. Yes, you still 100% believed he was a cocky player, but he was fun and he made you laugh. His company was actually enjoyable, something you learned from the fact that you now saw him at a few times each week.

The back and forth between the two of you had been going on for a couple of months, and even though Luke had been hesitant about Jack’s pursuit of you at first, he was ready to see this end.

“Hey y/n,” Luke said, knocking on your office door.

“What’s up Luke?” You asked, looking up from your computer.

“I’m hosting a party tonight for my birthday and was wondering if you wanted to come?”

“I’d love to, what time?” You asked and he told you. He mentioned that you could bring a couple of your friends, specifically Rachel, since Dawson had been talking to her recently.

Pairing a lace bodysuit with jeans, you finished curling your hair while Rachel stood next to you doing her makeup.

“So what’s the actual deal with you and Jack?” She asked and you shrugged nonchalantly.

“Nothing really, it’s like a game,” you said.

“Are you going to sleep with him?” She asked.

“Maybe,” you said. “He is hot.”

She eyes you curiously before asking her next question. “Are you into him more than in just an ‘I want to sleep with you�� way?”

You scoffed, “I barely know him like that. It’s not like we’ve ever hung out one on one.”

“Just asking, just seems like you were so anti-hockey boys and here we are.”

“We aren’t anywhere.”

She just smirked at you, not saying anything further.

Jack showed up to the party fashionably late, instantly looking for you. He was pleased when he saw you talking with your friend and some others but decided not to approach you just yet.

“Beer?” Dawson offered and he shook his head.

“I need to stay focused,” Jack said nodding at you.

“When are you going to admit this is something a little more than a game?” Dawson asked.

Jack scoffed, but his eyes never left you. "What are you talking about?"

Dawson rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. You've been chasing this girl for months. I've never seen you put this much effort into anyone before."

"That's because she's playing hard to get," Jack insisted, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"No, it's because you actually like her," Dawson countered. "And not just because she's hot. You like that she challenges you, that she doesn't fall for your usual tricks."

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. He watched as you laughed at something someone said, your eyes crinkling at the corners. His stomach did a little flip.

"Shit," he muttered.

Dawson clapped him on the back. "There it is."

By the time you noticed Jack, you were very drunk. He was seated at a barstool chatting with some of his teammates.

“Y/n!” Nico called, waving you over. “Come hang out with us.”

You met Jack’s eyes as you came over and gave him a wink before you hugged Nico. He offered his seat but you declined, moving to where you were standing at the table with Jack at your back. He spread his legs wider and you leaned back, settling on the edge of his chair.

You felt Jack tense slightly as you settled against him, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his hand came to rest lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles through the fabric of your jeans.

"So, Y/N," Nico said with a mischievous grin, "Jack here tells us you're still giving him a hard time."

You laughed, leaning back further into Jack's chest. "Oh, has he now?"

"Can you blame a guy for trying?" Jack murmured close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "I suppose not. But where's the fun in making it easy?"

The guys around the table hooted and hollered, but you barely noticed. You were too focused on the way Jack's eyes had darkened, his grip on your hip tightening ever so noticeably.

Jack was quiet as you talked to his teammates, lost in thought. You were starting to hit a wall and after you yawned for a third time Jack leaned forward.

“How are you getting home?” He asked.

“Probably just call an uber,” you told him.

“Let me take you home,” he said and you nodded, giving in.

As you stepped outside into the cool night air, Jack's hand found the small of your back, guiding you towards his car. The gesture was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual cocky demeanor.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, "for someone who's supposedly trying to get me into bed, you're being awfully chivalrous right now."

Jack chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. "Maybe I'm not just trying to get you into bed anymore."

You raised an eyebrow, sliding into the seat. "Oh? And what exactly are you trying to do then, Jack Hughes?"

He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, taking a moment before answering. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted as he started the car. "But I think I'd like to find out."

The drive to your place was quiet, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling up to your building.

“You want to come up?” You asked, and his eyes darkened, flickering once to your lips.

“I can’t sleep with you when you’re this drunk,” he said and you smirked.

“Who said I wanted to sleep with you Jacky?” You teased. “Maybe I just like your company.”

He mumbled something under his breath as he got out of the car and followed you inside the building. You stumbled as you got out of the elevator and Jack caught you, pulling you into him.

“Careful angel,” he murmured and you felt yourself getting hot. He didn’t say anything as you opened the door to your apartment, just silently looking around, taking in your home. You watched him look around until his eyes landed back on you.

Taking a step forward and his breath hitched as your hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“Y/n,” he warned, clearly fighting some kind of internal battle with himself.

“Just a taste,” you whispered before pressing your lips against his.

Jack's resolve crumbled the moment your lips touched his. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. You tasted like the sweet cocktails you'd been drinking all night, and he couldn't get enough.

For a moment, all the playful banter and teasing melted away. It was just you and Jack, lost in each other's embrace.

But as quickly as it started, Jack pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

"We shouldn't," he murmured, though his grip on your waist didn't loosen.

You pouted, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Why not?"

"Because," Jack said, finally taking a step back. "I want to do this right."

You blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair before stepping back, “You are very drunk and I want our first time to be without any doubts that we both want it.”

You tilted your head, analyzing his answer before nodding. “Okay. I still want you to stay.”

“You are so much nicer when you’re drunk,” Jack said as you both walked towards your room.

“I know,” you said with a small smile. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

You stepped into the bathroom, deciding to take a quick shower before changing into a pj set you had. It left little to the imagination so Jack’s eyes widened when you came back out. He was laying in your bed, scrolling through his phone as you climbed in next to him.

“You are making this very difficult for me,” he complained, adjusting himself under the covers.

“I don’t kow what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. You laid your head on his chest and his arm moved to where he could hold you against him.

“I knew you would fall for my charm,” Jack said, shooting you a cocky smile.

You scoffed, “I haven’t slept with you yet buddy, I’m merely just using you for warmth.”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes.

You woke up the next morning on your side with Jack pressed up behind you. One arm was wrapped snugly around your waist, like he was scared you were going to run away. You turned around and admired his sleeping form next to you.

This whole thing between you was starting to get complicated. What started as something fun was slowly turning into something more for you and you really didn’t know how to feel about it.

Jack stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

“Morning,” he rasped, stretching out his limbs.

“Hi,” you said back, moving to slide off the bed. Before you could stand up, two hand encircled your waist, pulling you back.

“FIve more minutes,” he pleaded, enjoying the warmth from your body against his.

“I need to go to the Farmer’s Market before it gets crowded,” you told him. “So you need to go.”

“Let me come with,” he said and you looked at him surprised.

“You want to come to the Farmers’ Market with me?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have anything else to do.”

Jack wasn’t sure how he got here. One minute, he was trying (and failing) to win you over, and the next, he was carrying a tote bag full of fresh produce while you picked through a crate of peaches like this was a normal Saturday activity for the two of you.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” he noted, watching as you inspected each piece of fruit.

“I’m not about to waste five bucks on a bad peach, Hughes,” you replied, finally selecting one and dropping it into your bag.

He smirked, shifting the weight of the tote on his shoulder. “So I’m carrying all your stuff now?”

“You invited yourself,” you said breezily, moving on to the next stall. “Consider it a consequence of your actions.”

Jack just shook his head, trailing behind as you stopped at a bakery stand. You picked up a loaf of sourdough, glancing up at him.

“Do you even eat real bread, or is it all protein shakes and sad health food?”

Jack scoffed. “I eat real food. I could house that whole loaf in one sitting.”

You arched a brow. “Prove it.”

He grabbed the sourdough out of your hands and tossed some cash at the vendor. Tearing off a piece, he took a dramatic bite. “Happy?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re such a child.”

Jack grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “And yet, you keep hanging out with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the small smile you tried to hide as you walked ahead.

Yeah. He was definitely getting somewhere.

—---------------------

The line between you and Jack was definitely blurred after that night. Something had shifted which hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone around either of you.

“So,” Luke said, sitting next to his brother in the locker room.

“Spit it out Luke,” Jack said, giving him an annoyed look.

“You went to the farmers’ market,” Luke stated, catching the interest of a nearby Dawson. “And you did that after not even sleeping with her.”

“You didn’t sleep with her?” Dawson asked, butting in.

“She was very drunk,” Jack groaned, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your guys’ business.”

“I can’t believe you went to the farmers’ market,” Dawson said. “You’re whipped.”

“It’s not like that,” Jack muttered.

“Not like that,” Luke echoed. “But you haven’t slept with anyone else since this whole thing started. A little uncharacteristic of you.”

Jack didn’t reply, just threw his towel into his brother’s face before stalking off.

His day did not get better from there. After a less than stellar game from him, he opened his phone to see an ongoing discourse on twitter. Apparently Paul Bissonnette, a TNT analyst and former NHL player, had done a deep dive on Jack’s game play, pointing out a laundry list of problems.

Twitter was split with Devils' fans tweeting angrily at Biz and Biz’s followers defending him. Honestly Jack didn’t care that much, especially because a lot of what he was saying was right, but it still didn’t feel good.

The media asked him about it after the game and he much to the annoyance of the Devils’ PR team, he let his temper get the best of him.

“I mean that guy was a professional bench warmer but what do I know?” He sounded off, which just added fuel to the fire.

You had taken the week of from work, visiting a friend in NYC while all this was going down and you didn’t envy your coworkers that had to deal with this.

While you were out for lunch the last day on your trip you ended up running into Biz as you were walking out of the restaurant. You recognized him immediately and weirdly enough it seemed like he knew who you were.

“You’re Jack Hughes girl?” He asked and you froze.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said and he grinned.

“That’s not what Quinn told me,” he said and you shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow at Biz's comment. "Quinn Hughes? And what exactly did he tell you?"

Biz chuckled. "Just that his brother's been chasing after some girl from the Devils' PR team for months. Said it's the first time he's seen Jack actually put effort into pursuing someone."

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. "Well, Quinn doesn't know what he's talking about. Jack and I are... it's complicated."

"Uh-huh," Biz said, clearly not buying it. "Look, I know Jack's probably not thrilled with me right now, but I wasn't trying to attack him personally. Just pointing out areas where he could improve his game."

You nodded, remembering the Twitter drama. "I get it. It's your job to analyze players. Jack will get over it once he cools down."

“I have a funny idea if you’re game?”

—-------------------------------

Jack stared down at his phone seething. Nico was watching him with an amused look on his face.

“I mean, it’s kind of funny,” he said and Jack shot him a glare.

“What’s funny?” Luke asked, coming out of the showers. He leaned over Jack’s shoulder to see what he was looking at on his phone. It was a quote tweet to the press interview when he had chirped Biz.

@.biznasty: Damn, that hurts Jack; at least I have a pretty girl to make me feel better.

Along with his tweet was a selfie of you and Biz attached.

Luke barked out a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Jack said coldly. Nico laughed it off but Luke could tell something was off by his brother’s tone.

As Jack stared at the photo of you and Biz, a mix of emotions swirled in his chest - anger, jealousy, and a hint of hurt he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"Come on, man," Luke said, sensing his brother's mood. "You know Y/N is just messing with you. It's what you two do."

Jack locked his phone, shoving it in his bag. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm tired of playing games."

Nico and Luke exchanged a look as Jack stormed out of the locker room.

Meanwhile, you were on your way back to Newark, feeling a little guilty about the stunt with Biz. You hadn't expected it to blow up quite like it did. Sure enough a text from Luke confirmed what you were feeling.

LH: just a heads up, Jack is in a mood about the Biz picture.

Y/N: really? It was just a joke?

LH: I know and it was funny. But he’s being a little sensitive.

You asked Luke to send you their address, deciding to make a stop on the way home. He answered the door when you got there, an amused look on his face.

“The princess is in his room,” he said, motioning to what you assumed was Jack’s door.

Jack had just gotten out of the shower when you pushed his door open, his white towel wrapped snuggly around his waist.

“What are you doing here?” He asked sharply. You rolled your eyes at his tone.

"Heard you were throwing a tantrum," you said, leaning against the doorframe. "Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about."

Jack's jaw clenched as he turned away from you, rummaging through his dresser. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. You can go back to hanging out with your new buddy Biz."

You sighed, moving further into the room. "Jack, come on. It was just a joke. You know there's nothing going on between me and Biz."

He didn't respond, just continued rummaging through his drawers with more force than necessary.

"Hey," you said softly, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. He tensed under your touch but didn't pull away. "Talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

Jack finally turned to face you, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I had a bad game and then I’m getting chirped in the media, and then I log on to see the girl I’m into is hanging out with someone else.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at Jack. "The girl you're into, huh?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, looking slightly flustered. "I mean... yeah. Isn't it obvious by now?"

You stepped closer, your hand moving from his shoulder to rest on his chest. "Maybe. But it's nice to hear you say it."

Jack's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I'm tired of playing games, y/n. I want you. For real."

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. "What happened to the cocky player who was just trying to get me into bed?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "That guy realized he actually likes spending time with you, farmers market and all."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Even when I'm giving you a hard time?"

“Especially then,” he said, bringing his lips down to yours. The kiss started soft but soon escalated, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging softly. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“I can think of a few ways to make it up to you,” you murmured against his lips.

#nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

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insert-content · 2 years ago

Text

a summar(ule)y of 196 culture

since the tumblr veterans have been kind enough to introduce us newbies to their site and culture, i think it is only fair that we explain the culture of our glorious former home to any tumblr users who might be interested in the #196 tag. keep in mind, all these things are based on my perspective of the situation.

first of all, some general information (that you might’ve already heard):

196 (r/196 on reddit) was a subreddit with only one (official) rule; "post before you leave." it was mainly a meme/shitposting sub, but it cultivated a large queer and left-leaning community. in protest of the recent api chances in reddit, 196 has shut down indefinitely until reddit reverts these changes.

now for some culture/references that you might come across

spronkus kronkus:

spronkus is this yellow, rabbit-like creature.

they were the mascot of our subreddit. their appearance can vary from images to image, but as far as i’m aware, their full outfit consists of a bandanna in the colours of the trans flag around their neck, a gun labelled as such (other wise you obviously wouldn’t know what you’re looking at), and an axe also coloured like the trans flag.

r/place:

this is a rare event on reddit where the entire website gets a huge white canvas and can start creating pixel art on it. 196 participated by collaboratively creating our mascot, spronkus with "196!" written next to them.

this version of the pixel art was recreated by me as i couldn't find a nice image of it. there were some changes between the first version and the end result, so this might not be exactly how it looked in the end

post titles/"rule":

reddit forces it's users to title every post they make. as most of the posts on 196 spoke for themselves, many user instead titled their posts "rule", to indicate that they followed the subreddit's only rule. some people also tried to make puns with the word or tried to include it in words that shared some letters (example: wor(ule)d).

anarcho-stripperism:

as the amount of cropped porn jokingly posted to the subreddit increased, the moderators decided that porn would be banned from the sub, with one exception: anarcho-stripperism. she made food fucking videos, in which she jokingly tested the fuckability of different food items (fruits, pasta, etc.)

bigotry showcase:

bigotry showcase was a post flair (basically the reddit equivalent of tags) on the subreddit and was later restricted to only be used on saturdays. under this flair people posted instances of different forms of bigotry to make fun it.

eating babies/hungryposting:

at some point, the subreddit started to pretend to like eating babies, which started a variety of memes regarding the subject. even a post flair called "hungrypost" was added because of this

goblinhog:

goblinhog is the most prominent and well-known member of the 196 moderation team. besides this, on 196 he was mostly known for changing people’s flair if you enjoyed him enough about it.

flairs:

flairs are little tags that are displayed under your name in posts or comments, they are also subreddit specific. most subreddits give their users a palette of preset flairs and the option to make your own custom flair. however, in 196 you only had the option to customize your flair during special events. if you wanted to customize your flair outside of those events (which was basically the entire time), you had to ask a mod to do it for you.

punching nazis:

from time to time, the same gif of a person with a nazi armband getting punched in the face, and promptly falling to the ground, was reposted to the subreddit. this became a sort of tradition.

discourse/drama

wasp discourse:

the wasp discourse was a one to two weeks long heated discussion that generally divided the subreddit into two factions. one side said that they were justified in killing wasps if they were attacked by them, while the other claimed that since wasps are just animals, they aren't aware of what they're doing in the same way humans are, and therefore should be spared.

drama about the british:

there was a time when jokes along the lines of "ew, british" became pretty frequent on the subreddit. as a response, some user claimed that this was akin to racism and tried to get others to stop with the jokes. a debate over whether or not it was important or necessary to stop followed afterwards.

pillar discourse:

this was a debate over which type of pillar should be considered the best (ionic; doric; corinthian). i have seen the question "which pillar is the best?" being used as a sort of greeting between 196 refugees on here.

related subreddits

195:

195 was the predecessor to 196, and also was a social experiment with the same premise as 196 (one rule, post before you leave). as the creators of 195 ended the experiment, the community wanted something with the same vibe to continue posting, and thus 196 was born.

197:

197 is another part of the 196 ecosystem and is commonly understood to be the more politically right-leaning and bigoted as 196, as some people who were banned from 196 continued posting there. besides that, the subreddits were essentially the same in terms of how they functioned.

19684:

this subreddit adds a second rule which banned all mentions of sex (that’s why it’s name is a pun on 1984). some people took this as banning all discussion of sexuality, which resulted in a community that was slightly less accepting of queer people. it is currently still up and running as the 196 moderation team wants a way to stay in contact with the community.

amendments to the posts:

u/femboy_expert:

another well-known 196 user. as the name suggests they're an expert on the subject of femboys, with their flair on 196 reading "phd in feminine boys". as the subreddit was somewhat obsessed with femboys, it's no wonder that they became popular.

u/shitcum_backup:

this was the main account of a pretty popular shitposter on the subreddit. although i didn't see them as much in the last few months, i remember them sometimes having a unique speaking pattern, in which they referred to themself in the third person.

u/monko74:

this user commented "Every day I thank god for not making me a r/196 celebrity," which led to many users of the subreddit treating them like a micro celebrity. there are even a few subreddits solely dedicated to u/monko74.

691:

a sister subreddit that inverts the rule of 196, here you would be (temporarily) banned for posting. some time ago the members of this sub initiated a rebellion/revolution against the bot who performed all the bans (roomba).

u/Smart_Calendar1874:

this wasn’t necessarily part of the subreddit, but it was a pretty popular meme. and since it’s getting posted on here again, and i know enough about it, i’ll add it to the post. this user made a post to r/AskReddit titled "How would you get a small cylinder (5.1in length, ~4.5in girth) unstuck from a mini M&Ms tube filled with butter and microwaved mashed banana? [sic]" it was pretty clear that they were referring to their penis, yet they continued to claim "it’s a cylinder," in the comment section. this lead to comments like "it is imperative that the cylinder […] remains unharmed," in response to people’s advice of cutting the m&m tube.

it's going to be very interesting to see which aspects of 196 culture are going to survive the tumblr migration, and which aspects won't be applicable on this site.

i'm obviously not the ultimate scholar on 196 lore. if i’ve missed or left out anything, or said something wrong, please comment it.

#196 #spronkus kronkus #r196 #r/196 #196archive #tumblr migration #rip 196 #196 campfire #196 migration

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tune-on-in-folks · 7 months ago

Text

Day 13! I actually managed to get this in time! And I do like this one, it has it's charm. Enjoy a Human!Alastor x Reader.

Tags/Warnings: Murder, blood, p in v sex, fem!receiving oral, oral sex, creampie, talk about murder, actual murder, abuse, mention of abuse, implied and written abuse, reader's husband is an abusive asshat, serial killer Alastor Word Count: 2, 876

There was not a man in town that was as captivating as Alastor Hartfelt. The popular radio host was quite the charmer, always managing to charm men and women alike. Which worked to his advantage. It was easy to lull his victims into a sense of calm, earning their trust. Long enough to draw them to his cabin, and end their lives. Of course, no one was particularly fussed when the people he chose went missing. They were often men who reminded him of his own father. They weren’t people that would be missed by anyone and he knew that. After all, his mother hadn’t missed his father one bit when he went missing one night.

Of course, with his charms and his rising popularity as a radio host, he began to draw unwanted attention. That often came in the form of womanly admirers, those who sought to try to win his heart. Or earn his favor. Of course, Alastor didn’t have time for them, he was a busy man after all. His friendship with Mimzy helped dampen the amount of womanly suitors enough that he was finally getting left alone.

Enough for you to catch his attention.

Alastor knew who you were, you worked for his radio station, after all. You were an intern, fetching coffee, taking calls, the sorts. He had spoken to you only a handful of times, typically when you brought him his morning coffee. You were quiet, never trying to strike up a conversation with him unlike all the other women who worked at the station. You were refreshing and Alastor found that he enjoyed your quiet presence. He requested you for tasks by name more and more.

“You, my dear, are a fresh breath of air!” He said one day, giving you a soft smile.

You had flashed him such a pretty smile in turn, “How so?”

“You, my dear, understand me.” He replied, refusing to elaborate.

The more you saw of Alastor, the more you were charmed by the man’s charms. He once told you that you were a fresh breath of air, but he was your own fresh breath. His witty remarks, kind smile, and soft touches were in stark contrast to your husband’s. You found yourself growing fond of Alastor and the increasing time you’d spend with the radio host. It wasn’t long before he promoted you to his assistant, which meant that you were spending most of your time with Alastor. It was nice, something you looked forward to. He quickly became your reason for living. You often fantasized about having married him instead of your husband. The silent camaraderie between the both of you was enjoyable. Alastor made you laugh, shared your humor, and your wit. He was gentle, kind, and charming. He was everything your husband was not. He was everything you wanted. Somewhere along the lines you had managed to fall in love with Alastor. Your promotion to assistant came with a single red rose a few days later that had your heart skipping a beat. Especially because you knew the meaning behind such a simple gesture. Alastor had given it to you, and kissed you in the privacy of his office, admitting to his affections for you. It was enough to make you swoon.

The news of your promotion got to your husband faster than you could muster up the strength to tell him yourself, fearing his anger.

The news of your promotion somehow got out to your husband.

You had just finished putting the rose into a small glass when your husband came home, raging drunk, demanding you to explain why he hadn’t heard of your promotion.

“I had to learn that from John. Is there something you don’t want me to know?” His hands slammed down on the table, shaking the vase with the single rose.

His eyes caught on the bloom, “Who the fuck gave you a single fucking rose?” He picked up the vase, hurling it, “Answer me, damnit!”

You barely flinched as the vase went flying towards your head, barely missing. “A work friend.”

Your husband had scoffed, advancing on you. “Work friend, my ass. No one gives my wife a single red rose and gets away with it!”

What he meant by that was that you got punished instead. His hand struck your face, sending you sprawling to the floor. You barely flinched, used to your husband’s anger. You were in for a long night, but you didn’t care. Because Alastor had given you a red rose and you knew exactly what that meant. Unspoken love coming to light. He was always such a charmer.

You came into work the next day sore, bruises barely covered with makeup, but enough that no one batted an eye at you. That was until you entered Alastor's office. He was working on his latest script, his eyes flickering up upon your entry.

“Hello, my dear.” He greeted, pausing as he saw your limp.

He sat up fully, pushing his round glasses further up his face to take you in better. After a moment of observing you he spoke up.

“Are you alright, little doe?”

You chuckled, trying to brush off his concern. “I’m perfectly fine, Alastor. I had a small tumble today, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” He hums, his eyes narrowed.

He had heard around the speakeasies that your husband wasn’t the kindest man. But he had never seen the physical signs of abuse before. His eyes caught on the bruise under your eye, your makeup having smudged.

“Come here, darling.” He gestured, reaching for your hand.

You flashed him a soft smile, taking his hand as he pulled you closer to him.

“Alastor, you know I’m married, you charmer.” You attempted to joke.

His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bruised cheek. He watched how you flinched at his slight touch.

“Yes, that’s what I’m worried about.” He mutters, his voice dropped into something low and dangerous. “He did this, didn’t he?”

You took a deep breath, knowing that no matter what, Alastor would always be able to see through you. “He did. But I’m okay, I promise, Al.”

He had withdrawn his touch, his mind already churning with plans on how to charm your husband. How to earn his trust and kill him for ever laying a single hand on you. He had already been narrowing down the speakeasies your husband frequented. It was only a matter of time before he was the next victim of the Bayou Butcher.

“I promise you, my dear. I will help you out of your situation.” He flashed you a dangerous smile.

You chuckled, sitting down beside Alastor, “And I would love your help.”

Oh if you only knew what you were agreeing to.

Alastor had managed to ‘accidentally’ cross paths with your husbandthe next night. He pretended to be new in town, working to charm your husband. But Paul wasn’t a stupid man and didn’t give his trust readily. Alastor realized it would take a few nights of charming your husband, much to his distaste. Barely an hour in and he was disgusted by the man. But you were the one woman who managed to capture his attention, and subsequently his affection. And Alastor was determined to free you from your husband.

Your husband's beatings grew more frequent in the coming days, and you did your best to hide it. Alastor always saw through you, however. His anger was growing, his patience slipping.

And now it was breaking.

You hadn’t managed to make it into work that day. Everyone noticed your absence, and they talked. They talked loud enough for it to get back to Alastor that your husband had hurt you badly. He left his studio early that night, having decided that that was the night he’d kill your husband.

“Alastor!” Paul roared upon seeing the Alastor enter the speakeasy, “Come here, my friend!”

Alastor gave him a polite smile, his eye twitching in utter annoyance, but he greeted the man all the same. “Salutations, Paul. Fine weather we’re having today, yes?”

“Who cares about the weather, hey!” Paul slapped his chest, “Let me buy you a drink.”

Alastor let him, keeping an eye on how much your husband drank. He always ensured that for every shot he had, your husband had two. It was a little game he was playing, his impatience showing. He was tired of trying to charm your husband, he was going to kill him and he was going to do it tonight.

Eventually Paul left to head back home, declining Alastor’s offer to help him home. The radio host could only quietly glower as his plans changed. He would just have to tail your husband home, and draw him away before he arrived at your home. Alastor couldn’t risk y0u seeing him kill your husband. But of course, he got distracted fantasizing about killing your husband, that he lost sight of him. Cursing, Alastor quickened his pace. He realized, too late, that Paul had arrived at your home. His anger was simmering beneath the surface, but he would be damned if he’d let Paul live another night. He needed a plan to draw him back out, away from you.

Yelling erupted from your home, Alastor’s anger sparking into a full roar as he heard what he thought was you being thrown to the floor. Unable to stop himself, he rushed up the steps to the front door of your home. Cold panic flooded him as silence suddenly blanketed the house. He shoved the door open, ready to kill your husband for hurting you, when he froze.

There you stood, covered in blood, a knife in your hands. Paul lay on the floor steadily bleeding out from a wound in his neck. Alastor gently closed the door behind him, locking it. He made sure that the blinds were completely drawn before he made his way to you. You set the bloody knife down with shaky hands, taking in Alastor’s calm approach.

“Alastor?” You whisper, not having anticipated his presence.

You had acted out of pure instinct when your husband lunged at you, he had managed to put two and two together. He had figured out it was your boss who had given you the rose. He had told you he was going to kill you, and yet here he lay, dying on the floor of the house you shared.

Alastor stopped in front of you, taking your bloodied hands in his. “Well, my dear, I must say I’m very proud of you.”

He cupped your cheek, smearing your husband’s blood onto your face. You shivered at the feeling, adrenaline still pumping through your body.

“Al-” He cuts you off, his lips pressing against yours incessantly.

You moan into the kiss, not having expected it.

Alastor rests his forehead against yours, his voice deep and sultry as he asks, “Tell me my dear, how does your first kill feel?”

You shiver, “exhilarating.”

“Mhm, good.” He smiles widely, capturing your lips again. “You did so good.”

His mouth trails down your jaw, to your throat. Your breath hitches as Alastor nips and kisses your skin. You wrap your hands around his back, sliding a hand into his hair as you moan.

“Alas-tor…” You whimper, “I just..fuck…killed my husband.”

He pulled your nightgown over your head,pulling a small gasp from you.

“You did. And I’m so proud of you.” He praises kissing you again, “I was going to kill him myself, but you did wonderfully, my dear. We’ll take care of his body in a moment.”

You whine into Alastor’s kiss, feeling his grip on your hips tighten. He rolled his hips against you, his erection pressing against your low stomach.

“Alastor..” You gasp as he leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. “You…You’re the Bayou Butcher?” It was less of a question and more of an observation.

“I’m surprised you figured it out, my dear.” He praises, sliding your panties off.

“Of course I did, I know you.” You whisper, gasping as he hoists you up, pressing you against your kitchen counter.

The knife you had stabbed your husband with was right beside you as Alastor kissed down your body.

“And how long have you known?” He asks, nipping at your inner thigh.

You moan softly, “I figured it out months ago. Enough time to figure out a pattern in the men you kill. I was hoping Paul was next.”

“He was, but you beat me to it, my dear.” He pushes your thighs open, licking a long stripe up from your slit to your clit.

You gasp, moaning as Alastor closed his mouth around your nub, his fingers sliding into your tight cunt.

“I’m surprised you’re as wet as you are. You did just kill your husband after all.” He teased you, curling his fingers inside you.

“And I have the man I love touching me.” you retort, rolling your hips down against his touch, your breath quickening.

Alastor chuckles, speeding his touch up as he sucks and nips at your clit. He could feel your walls squeezing around his fingers as you got closer to your release. A few more moments and you were crying out, cumming around his fingers. He continued to finger you through your release, lapping up your juices. He pulled his fingers out a moment later, licking his fingers clean. He reached for his pants, freeing his cock. Your eyes caught on his member, a shiver of anticipation running through you. He raises an eyebrow as you attempt to close your legs, prevented only by him being nestled between them.

“Now, now. No getting shy on me, my dear.” He chuckles, pumping his length a few times.

Alastor grabbed a hold of your knees, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He ran his cock through your slick folds, positioning himself at your entrance.

“You’re just so big.” You mummer, glancing behind him towards your husband’s body. “Bigger than him.”

“Ah-ah-ah, eyes on me, darling.” He scolds, grasping your face in between his fingers.

You meet Alastor’s gaze again in time for him to flash you his charming smile. He begins to press into you, slowly rocking his hips. He entered you slowly, drawing a long moan from you.

“I’m the only thing you should be concerning yourself with right now.” He murmurs.

“Oh fuck!” You whimper, rolling your hips down as he pressed into you.

“So good.” He moans himself, slowly reaching his hilt. “So tight. You were made for me.”

You smile softly, arms wrapping around his back as he begins to rock his hips.

“You did so well, my love, and now look at you, taking my cock so well.” He continues to praise, his thrusts long, deep, and slow. “I’ve waited far too long to be in your perfect cunt.”

You chuckle, meeting Alastor’s thrusts as he picks up his pace. “And I waited too long to kill my husband.”

He hums, his breaths coming a little faster. “Better late than never, my darling doe.”

He picked up his pace, the sound of him fucking you filled the air. Your moans were met with his grunts, mixing with the symphony that was your bodies meeting over and over. Your grasp tightened on Alastor’s back, kissing him deeply. Your pleasure was building higher and higher, the coil in your gut tightening. You knew you were close to your release again.

“Ah-Alastor, I’m close.” You mewl against his mouth.

He pistoned in and out of you faster, his breathing growing labored. He slipped his hand between your bodies, rubbing at your clit in tight circles.

“Let me feel you, darling. Let me feel you fall apart around my cock.”

You cried out, your head falling back against the cabinets at his touch. Your body quivered, his name spilling from your lips loudly as you came hard around his cock. Alastor buried his face against your neck, biting down on your shoulder as his pace faltered. A moment later he found his own release, pushing as deep as he could inside you. You moaned at the sensation of his seed filling you, your walls squeezed him, milking him for every drop.

“Fuck,” he panted, “Just like that. You’re such a good girl. My darling little doe, you took me so well.”

He kissed you gently as he slowly pulled from your cunt. You whimper at the loss of his cock.

“Alastor.” You whisper, reaching out for him as he takes a step back from you.

He flashes you his smile again, tucking his softening cock away. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm? Then I’ll dispose of this insolent creature’s body.”

Alastor scooped you off the counter into his arms. You smile, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for your help, my love.” You whisper against his mouth.

“Of course, my dear, you don’t have to worry about him any longer. I’ll take care of it.”

You giggle as he begins to carry you upstairs, you couldn’t care less that Alastor was the Bayou Butcher, he was the man you loved. And lucky for you, he loved you back.

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breezymichelle99 · 8 months ago

Text

Deliciously Dripping in Jealousy | LN

Summary: A friends with benefits situation takes an interesting turn when someone gets a little bit jealous. A you fell first but he fell harder love story.

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+: use of Y|N, friends with benefits, p in v, unprotected sex ( please use protection) blow job, fingering, male and female receiving, possessive Lando; Dom:Lando, demanding Lando,Toxic dates, a lot of cussing, use of the F word like a lot, Lando ends up being a little obsessed with you; begging; orgasm denial kinda, talk about car sex, talk about mental health; shitty race finishes; extreme jealousy, use of the word slut; Lando going thru it emotion wise; relationship communication.

As always if I’ve missed anything please let me know. I hope you enjoy. I had so much fun writing this.

You have been in this on again off again, friends with benefits situationship with Lando Norris for months now. And to be honest it really was nothing more than really hot amazing sex whenever he was home in Monaco. But Lately you had started to feel something more for him and you knew that he would never want anything more with you than just a good casual romp in the sheets, especially with where he was at in his career right now. So you decided to casually date other people; mostly to distract your own mind; however that wasn’t working out to well; because just like clockwork he had come home from a race in a far off country, called you immediately and without words you had found yourself once again wrapped around him in the front seat of his Porsche Carrera GT; somehow.

You didn’t even say a word when he kissed you slowly and dropped you off afterwards, few words shared between the two of you, like most times. You hadn’t even noticed that you had left your favorite black lace panties in his car. Damn it. You look at your watch you didn’t really have time to change, you were meeting with one of the guys you’ve been seeing and hadn’t had the heart to cancel even after hooking up with Lando. You sigh as you collect yourself and head to the bar where you were meant to meet your date. Everything Seemed to be going well; your thoughts of Lando had drifted somewhat and you were actually enjoying yourself. You had had a few drinks and were dancing close with your designated Lando distraction, he had pulled you into his lap in a dark back booth and was gently kissing on your neck, his hand squeezing your ass, Whispering sweet dirty little words in your ear that had you wiggling slightly in his lap.

You did have to admit, it was kind of nice being out with someone obsessed with you, someone not afraid to be all over you in public, but of course you couldn’t help but think about Lando. All the dirty little things you had done to each other in the dark, every time you were together, how he always made you feel like the only girl in the world even when he was fucking you senseless. And like clockwork or sexual calling your phone buzzed in your bag. “Excuse me.” you whisper, pulling yourself from your date's arms. You hear a quiet sigh leave his lips and you know he’s annoyed by the interruption. It was Lando. “Get out of his lap IMMEDIATELY!!!.” you read. You look around for him but you don’t see him anywhere. How the hell? You roll your eyes but of course you respond. “Why should I?” you type trying to be quick not wanting to ruin your night but also wanting to piss off Lando enough that he finally gets his head out of his ass and makes you his. It didn’t take long before he responded. “Because your panties were off and my dick deep inside of you two hours ago baby, now get the fuck off of him or else!”

He was furious and tempted to walk right into this bar and rip you out of this creep's arms and drag your ass out himself. He knew he had set the boundaries, knew he was the one that said no strings attached , wanted to literally come and go as he pleased with you whenever he was home, but seeing this man with his hands all over you, intentions to take you home and fuck you better than him. He absolutely couldn’t and wouldn’t stand for that; you were his and only his. He could feel the jealousy dripping from his soul as he tapped his fingers on the keyboard of his phone as he waited for your response, biting his lip. “Or else what?” you tempt him. He was parked outside the bar watching through the window. He watched you intently. He growled. “Y|N, you have approximately two seconds to get your ass off and out here into this car before I come in and drag your ass out. Get out here NOW!!!”

He tossed his phone into the cup holder, he was fuming now. He watches, green eyes dark with lust, desire, and straight jealousy. His jaw was clenched and he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. You were taking wayyyyyy too long. His phone lit up. “Coming.” you respond, not wanting to cause a scene, knowing he would make good on his promise to come in and drag you out. “Good Girl, now hurry the Fuck up!!” he demands fidgeting in his seat as he waits for you. You get out of the lap of your date. “I'm so sorry, something’s come up and I need to go.” you say pulling down the skirt of your short, little black dress, grabbing your things and laying down some cash on the table for your drinks; not wanting your date to have to pay for it since you were in fact cutting your date short.

“Are you kidding me?” he says looking pissed. “No I’m not. I'm sorry something really has come up and I need to go, now please let go of me.” you say trying to shrug out of his tight grip. He had grabbed you tightly and aggressively and refused to let go of you. Panic set in. Lando had had enough. He looked in through the window, seeing you arguing with your date, who had his hand on you in a way Lando did not like at all. He turned his car off and stormed into the bar; furious. When he reached you, you were still arguing with this man and his grip had tightened on you as you attempted to leave his grasp. Lando could tell you were uncomfortable. “Lando.” you whisper. Your big beautiful eyes begging for his help, knowing he would most likely make you pay for it later, you didn’t care though you just wanted out of this bar and into his arms as soon as fucking possible.

“The lady asked you to let her go, now do so.” His voice was deeper and darker than you had ever heard before and butterflies danced in your stomach at the tone. Your date locked eyes with Lando; challenge accepted. “What’s it to you mate, not like you were gunna fuck her right? Saw you get out of that Porsche, pretty sure you don’t need any help with that. Might leave one for the rest of us now, don’t cha think.” you couldn’t believe what you had just heard. Lando stepped towards the both of you. The look in his eyes had you dripping for him already. His jaw was clenched and you knew the words that this man had just said had sent Lando over the edge and you really should think about getting him out of this bar before he ruined his career. He cleared his throat. No one spoke to him or his girl like that EVER. “Actually mate.” he paused, locking eyes with you for a moment. “I have already fucked her, tonight actually, pretty Sure she was thinking about me inside of her when she was kissing you, and i'm going to fuck her again and probably for the rest of my life, so get your filthy hands off her and let me take my girl home, where i plan to fuck her again and again till she remembers who she belongs too. So if you don’t fucking mind.” he says two long fingers gesturing for you to come to him. Your mouth slack jaw as you do what you're told, coming to him. No words spoken,

“Fucking slut.” your date curses, furious. Lando smirks and chuckles as he tosses you over his shoulder, smacking your ass; which was almost hanging out of your tiny little black dress. “You’re damn right. And she’s all fucking mine.” he growls spinning you around and carrying you out of the bar and to his Porsche waiting outside. He set you down on the curb making sure you were okay. “ His warm palm and long fingers caress your cheek. “Are you okay?” he asks, his gaze intense and concerned. You smirk looking up into his gorgeous green eyes, you press your body into his. You hear him groan.

“No.” you whisper, eyes never leaving his. “No?” he questions. His hands begin to wander your body. A moan catches in your mouth. “What’s wrong?” What did he do? I’ll fucking kill him.” Lando threatens jaw tightening again. You chuckle. “He didn't do anything, you did.” you say, sliding his hand up your dress, not wearing any panties knowing damn well you had left them in his car earlier in the night. He swallows, feeling just how wet you are as he dips a long index finger into your folds. “Fuck Lando please, i need you to fuck me.” you breathe, breathless under his fingertips. He smirks at just how needy you are for him. He bites his bottom lip. “Hmmm.” he hums trying to control himself in the streets. He withdraws his fingers from you. You groan. “Get in the car Y|N” he demands, as you watch him place his fingers in his mouth licking them clean of you. You hear him whine and you can’t help the smirk that crosses your lips. He opens the door. You slide in. He watches the way your dress rides up your tanned thigh as you get in and he can’t help but lick his lips again. God he needed to get you out of here.

You look up at him with lusty eyes and he slams the door, you pout as he walks over to the driver side getting in without words. He starts the car and begins driving you to his place. The car ride is silent, neither of you knowing what to say. The sexual tension filling the car. Finally Lando breaks the silence and you know you are going to fight and end up hate fucking each other tonight. You roll your eyes. He reaches across the center console grabbing your jaw., making you look at him. “What the fuck was that?” he growls, catching your eye roll. You stare at him ready to go toe to toe with him, until he gives you what you wanted. You shrug not knowing if he was talking about your eye roll or your extremely shitty taste in men. You say nothing. Finally he realizes you’re unsure of what he’s talking about, so he elaborates. “You think you can just fuck me in my car and two hours later take home some complete goofball, like what we do doesn’t even matter.” he growls, you can immediately see the jealousy in his green eyes and you love every second, you can tell by his clenched jaw he’s pissed. But does he have any right to be? The angry sight of him has you clenching your thighs together.

You laugh and he looks at you confused. “You made the rules, Lando. You’re the one that didn’t want strings, you wanted to fuck whenever you were home in Monaco and then fly half way acoss the world and then pretend like i don’t exist. And yeah I agreed to this but you’re the one that wanted things to be this way, Lan.” his jaw unclenched at the sound of your sweet little voice calling him Lan. he knew right there in that moment that you had caught feelings for him. You sigh knowing what you had to do; lay it all out there on the table. “I don’t want to fuck strangers in bars, and have meaningless sex, especially when all I can fucking think about when i'm with someone is fucking you. Jesus fucking Christ Lando, you’re under my fucking skin, you’re everything i think about always. I thought surely I can have a little friends with benefits thing with you, have sex with you when you're home and then go about my life as soon as you hop a jet to the next race location. But i was fucking wrong Lan, boy was i fucking wrong. I Crave you every single second of every single day and not just the sex; your company, your voice, your laugh, the way you look at me with those damn gorgeous fucking eyes. Yes I tried to date other people, yes I tried to fuck other people but no one is you Lando Norris and I don’t want to do this hook up when you’re here and don’t exist when you’re gone shit anymore. It’s either me or it’s not.” you hadn’t realized that you had started to cry. His hand reached up to wipe the tears that had escaped down your cheek.

He had that stupid ridiculous boyish grin on his face and you didn’t know if you should slap him or kiss him silly. He took a deep breath. “That’s just the thing though Y|N.” he pauses watching you with those eyes that make you weak in the knees. “You do exist when I'm gone you’re all I think about, yeah I too have tried to hook up with other girls when I’m away but they weren’t you, nowhere close. They didn’t challenge me physically. They didn’t do that hip back arch thing for me that drives me absolutely feral and makes me hit all the just right spots deep inside of you, they don’t know just what I need when, or listen to me complain about racing, or talk me through my tough days and then let me lose myself between their thighs until they can’t breathe, or do that absolutely adorable little nose scrunch thing that you do, or when you wear my shirt around after we fuck like a trophy of your greatest conquest, how you just have to pet every single dog you see whenever we are out. I meant what what I said back in the bar Y|N. i want to spend the rest of my life fucking you all over the world, bent over exotic balconies in beautiful countries, the neighbors knowing my name every place we go. I don’t want to do whatever this is, any more. I just want you, always.” he says his lips devouring your lips before you could say anything. You’d been parked in his driveway for 10 minutes now. “Lan.” you whisper, pulling your lips away from his slowly. Your fingertips caress his cheek, your eyes locked with his. He melts into your touch.

“Yeah?” he whispers his voice low. “I love you.” you say. He grins against your lips. There is silence for a moment while you two stare at each other. “I love you too baby girl.” he says kissing you again and again until you moan desperately into his mouth. Finally he pulls his lips away from yours and smirks a wild little grin setting your heart racing once again. His long fingers dance across your lips, your tongue dances across his fingertips. “Mmm.” you hear him groan. He clears his throat regaining the power he had over you, pulling your jaw towards him once more. “Now get out of my car so i can drag that tight little ass inside and fuck you like my dirty little slut, as I fully intended.” he growls again, his green eyes darken. You lick your lips. “Yes sir.” you say getting out immediately. He’s to you in seconds, as you close the door you notice that your black lace panties, the ones you had been wearing earlier in the night were currently hanging over the gear shift. “Lando?” you question with a chuckle. He smirks as you are immediately thrown over his shoulder again. “LANDO!!!” you giggle trying to pull the skirt of your dress down since you weren’t wearing any panties. “Never getting those back either, baby.” he growls smacking your ass carrying you through the door of his flat and immediately up the stairs to his bedroom.

As soon as you reach the top of the stairs Lando puts you down and you strip out of your clothes, leaving a trail for him to follow all the way to his gorgeous bedroom. “Ohhhh Lando Norris, where are you baby?”” you call to him as you stand naked and waiting for him. “Mmm I'm coming baby girl, hold on.” he calls back as he finally makes it to the doorway where he sees you ready and waiting. “Mmm god you are beautiful.” he says, biting his lip as he walks to you, hands falling instantly to your hips. You can’t help but moan as soon as his long fingers touch your skin. “God I want you.” you whimper into his lips that have begun to kiss you vigorously. You had this feeling in your chest that he was going to make you pay for having another man's hands on what was his but you would gladly take your punishment like his good little girl. His long fingers grabbed your jaw roughly making you look at him. There was something wild in his eyes and you can’t help but groan. “You have no Idea what seeing him with his hands on you did to me baby, seeing someone else's hands on what is mine.” he growled. The eye contact between the two of you was almost too intense. “I I I I’m sorry Lando, I didn’t know what else to do I I I I .” you stumble trying to find the words as his long index fingers traced your folds now, dipping into you making you forget your words. He is laughing at you now. “Look at you, pretty girl, having trouble finding your words already.” smug bastard, he knew what he was doing.

“What’s that baby girl I didn’t quite hear what you said?” he smirks knowing you said nothing, moving his fingers faster than slower. Your words getting trapped behind your moans. You swallow hard trying to force yourself to answer him but you can’t, he feels too good. “Lando.” you whine. He chuckles. “Use your words darlin’, tell me how sorry you are, how you’ll never let another man touch you again, that you’re all mine always.” he growls one hand torturing you, fingers slowing down inside of you as he waits for his answer, the other with his long fingers gripped tightly around your neck, squeezing gently. He catches the little glimmer of desire in your eyes. You lick your lips. “How bout I show you instead.” you moan finally finding your words and dropping to your knees. Lando’s long fingers running across his lips, moaning at your taste on his fingertips. “Now that's a good girl.” he says looking down at you with a devilish sparkle in his eyes as he helps you undo his pants, and kick them aside. He runs his long fingers over your cheek as you look up at him, his thumb running across your lips. “I'm sorry Lando, I'm yours always no one but you will ever touch me again.” you managed, getting lost in his eyes. “Prove it.” he demands. You lick your lips, wrapping your fingers around him. He groans loudly. His hands falling into your hair, steading you. “Now now darling be a good girl.” he snarls. At this point you were practically dripping onto his bedroom floor, You were so wet for him. “fuck Lando.” you whine right before running your tongue along the underside of his throbbing member, circling the tip. “God you’re so fucking good at that.” he manages through moans as you take him into your mouth, his long length hitting the back of your throat, fingers working the rest. His hips buckle beneath your touch as he thrusts into your warm wet mouth. “God fuckkk please baby please, make me cum on that sweet little tongue of yours, you’re doing such a good fucking job baby.. Mmmmm fuck Y|N” your name rolling off his tongue was like music to your ears as you continued to work him until his warm salty cum was filling your throat. You swallow him, wiping your mouth. Looking up at him from the floor between his shaky thighs, eyes wide with lust and desire absolutely begging for him.

“God you’re beautiful like this, at my fucking mercy.” he growls, his thumb running across your lips. A small chuckle leaves his lips and you know he is up to no good. Silence fills the room as the two of you stare at each other. “But as much as I love to watch you beg on your knees for you me, I have much better plans for you Angel.” he grins deliciously down at you. “Lando please.” you whisper, your eyes never leaving his as they darken, a color you have never seen before and your body betrays you as you instantly react to his pleas. “Come on, up off the floor and onto the bed princess.” he says, extending his hand out to help you up off the floor, he pulls you up and into his arms, lips crashing into yours immediately. “MMM Lando.” you moan between his lips. He smirks into your mouth as he backs you up against the bed, you slide back allowing him to maneuver his tanned muscled body above yours, his lips kissing down your body setting your skin on fire as he goes. You can’t help but move beneath him. “MMMM don’t run from me beautiful.” Lando groans against your skin, not stopping his kisse.s but steading your body beneath him. “Please Lan I’m begging, I need you inside me please.” you whine, once again begging him., hips bucking up into him. He chuckles. “Patience baby I promise you’ll get what you want.” he smirks looking down at you, admiring your body, fingertips tracing every inch of you, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

“You are so beautiful baby.” he says his voice was deep and sultry, as his lips kiss down your body, leaving a trail of deep purple hickeys in his wake, marking his territory . “absolutely stunning and all fucking mine.” he growls. “Ohhh Lando please stop torturing me i am so fucking sorry okay now please.” you groan as he had now situated himself between your thighs. He chuckles. “I'm not nearly done making you pay, my darling.” he chuckles as he watches you pout. He began kissing down your inner thigh. Your breathing immediately became more erratic and he had literally done nothing but kiss you. “Mmm mmm mmm look at you baby girl, you are absolutely dripping already for me. How long have you been this wet for me darling?”” he asks his index finger dipping into your folds making you arch your back off the mattress into him. “Lan.” you whine. “Go on, tell me sweet girl.” he demands the British accent rolls off his tongue.. He pauses waiting impatiently for your response “Since the bar, since you came storming in to get me.” you practically whimper your response back to him as he continues to tease your throbbing clit. “You liked that, didn't you baby? Me being all angry and possessive over my girl?” he asks his tongue licking a strip from the bottom to the top of you. “Ohhh Fuck Lan, god yes.” you moan his name, your hips crashing into his mouth. Your fingers tangling in his curls tugging gently begging him to please continue and he does without needing words he devours you adding two of his long skilled fingers increasing your pleasure. “Ohhh god Lando, yes you are fucking everything to me, fuckkk jesus.” you call out to him as you feel the orgasm building in your stomach. He knew you were close but he had no intention of stopping till he had you cumming on his face and hand. His thumb rubbing your clit slowly adding to your pleasure. “There you go baby, be a good girl and cum for me.” he asks. Your breathing was erratic and your heart beat rapid as you did what you were told, moaning his name aloud as you did so. “Fuckk lan, god that tongue.” you whine praising him. He smirks. “That's just the beginning baby, when I'm finished with you there will be absolutely no question who you belong to, you’ll never even consider looking at another man.” he was really obsessed with the fact that you had let someone else touch you. It wasn’t even that serious and was mostly his fault, he had made the rules after all, but you did have to admit that this crazy wild feral side of him was so hot and sexy and with the way he was fucking you, how could you ever even considering letting someone else touch you, it would never compare to him, not even close and he knew that.

Before you can even recover from your 1st orgasm, he is above you once more throwing your leg over his shoulder. “Finally.” he hears you moan in anticipation. He can’t help but chuckle, such a needy needy girl. He lines himself with your entrance and before you even had time to breathe he was inside you. “Oh fuck baby, you feel so fucking good. So tight for me.” he moans leaving a trail of kisses down your leg he has resting on his shoulder as he fucks into you, your hips arching up just right off the bed, just the way he liked pushing him deeper as he hits that perfect spot and rhythm inside of you. “Ohhhhh Lannnnnn, god please..” you beg him. He slowed his pace drawing out your pleasure and his. “ That's it baby, Beg for it?” he says your eyes widen as you look up at him. A lusty grin crosses your lips as you run your tongue across them, you hear lando whine losing his composure but only for a second. “I want to hear you beg me to cum Y|N.” he growled, his pace nearly stopped as he challenged you. Your eyes flicked to his. You considered defying him but only for a second, you knew that wouldn't get either of you anywhere. “Fine.” you grit your teeth. He chuckles slamming into you again. “Ohhhh Lando please please please let me cum baby. Fuckkk please I need you to let me cum for you like your good little girl….” you moan out your words as his relentless thrusts send you crashing into your orgasm like you had been begging for. He tossed his head back as he too reached his climax, hips crashing together with yours as you both used each other to ride out your high. “Fuckk baby.” he says, collapsing practically on top of you, his chain dangling in your face as he leans down to gently capture your lips, you kissing him back slowly.

He settled beside you, pulling you into his arms, fingers running through your messy hair, your fingers gently running over his muscled chest as you stared into each other's eyes, both your breathing finally evening out as you enjoyed the peaceful moment between the two of you. You hear him sigh. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you finished rolling around in the sheets with him. You run your fingers gently across his cheek. “What is it, Lan?” you quietly ask him. He touches your face gently, getting lost in your beautiful eyes. He’s silent for another minute or two before he answers your questions. “When did it happen for you?” you look at him confused for a moment. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly. He smiles sweetly, the little dimples in his cheek, sneaking out, this thumb gently stroking your cheek.. He licks his lips and clears his throat. Like he was trying to find the courage to ask the question he was asking. “When did you fall in love with me?” he asks. You can’t help but blush. “Lan” you groan, giggles fill the room but He stares at you waiting for the answer. “To be honest.” you say trying to look away, the eye contact becoming too much for you. He tucks his fingers under your chin making you look back at him. You smirk.. “I liked you more than just a fling for a while but I didn’t really realize it till the night after the Monaco race.( which was months ago.).” you pause because he looks like he has something to say. “The night when we went for that long drive afterwards, in my new Porsche (at the time.) the top down, wind in your hair as I drove you through the streets making you sigh at every turn. When I could hear your laugh and your moans hours after you left me. That night?” he asks. He remembers it like it happened only yesterday and not months ago. You nod your head yes. “I knew the rules Lan, I knew we couldn’t be more, I knew you didn’t want more so I did the only thing I knew how to keep you with me and that was play the game, by the rules that we created.” you say melting into his touch. “I needed to distract myself from you, from you being my entire being. That’s why I decided to try and see other people but it didn’t matter there was only you, always.” you admit. He smiles. “So much for no strings.” he jokes. Of course he would make a joke about your feelings, that was such a him thing to do to avoid his own feelings.

The way that he was looking at you right now, you never wanted to leave this moment. “Was there ever a moment for you that you thought maybe you would throw the rule book out the window and make me yours?” you ask not really sure if you wanted this answer or not. You hear him quietly sigh. “Yes.” he practically whispers. You smirk at him. “Please enlighten me.” you can’t help the chuckle that leaves your lips at his sudden uneasiness. There was a moment of silence before he finally spoke. “It was right after the Austrian GP, when I had that DNF because of Max and I was so pissed and frustrated and I literally wanted to run through a wall.” he paused for a second as he watched you recall the night in your mind. You laugh. “We didn’t even have sex that night.” you chuckle. “We did in the morning, but not that night you came home, you were so worked up and angry i practically had to talk you down off the ledge.” you say with a soft smile. And you know why he chose this moment. “Exactly it was how comforting you were to me, how much you felt like home to me, how you literally just let me rant and rant and then made me pancakes at like 3 in the morning and then let me lay in your arms on the couch, running your fingers through my hair until i fell asleep in your arms, finally relaxing finally feeling peace..” he admits. You smile at him. “You thought I felt like home?” You ask ,you could feel the tears in your eyes threatening to escape as you thought about the fact that for months now you felt like safety, like peace, like home to him, like everything he had ever wanted and still he kept you at arms length. “Yeah baby, I really did since the moment I met you, your light, your sweetness, your passion, how i felt every single time I was with you.” his thumb stops a tear that has escaped down your cheek.

“If you felt this way about me why didn’t you just tell me.” you ask knowing this was a pot calling the kettle black moment. “I got scared. The way I felt i hadn’t ever felt that before and i thought if I kept you at arms length and kept to our rules much like you did, that i’d be able to tame this feeling that i had for you but i never could and then seeing you tonight at that bar, some guys hands all over you where mine should be, after you had just been with me so intimately, I lost it i know I had to make you mine or let you go and I knew I couldn’t live another second without you in my life.” he says. Admitting that his jealousy had been what finally made him cave and honestly you were more than okay with that. “Oh Lan.” you sob, kissing his lips wildly. “We are idiots, you know.” you chuckle pulling your lips away from his. “Well what do you say we change that.?” he asks. You eye him. “Meaning?” you ask in return. “No more casual bullshit Y|N. Let's be a couple, let’s fall in love all over the world. Just me and you against it." He says the sparkle in his green eyes was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. “Yes lando, a thousand times yes.” you say kissing him again you couldn’t help it the man was just so damn kissable. “I never want to be without you on my arm. What do you say we make it paddock official this weekend at the Dutch GP?” he asks, you had slid your body over him, straddling him looking down into his gorgeous green eyes. “I would love nothing more, Lando Norris.” your lips crash into his once more.

After this moment you two become inseparable. You make your paddock debut at the Dutch GP that weekend. The atmosphere was insane and you loved nothing more than being on Lando’s arm, him so proud to be yours showing you off like his most prized possession. And not to mention his good luck charm because he would go on to win his second race of the season that very same weekend. You couldn’t be more proud to call him yours, especially knowing that you fell for him first but he fell harder for you. .

The End.

#moodboard pics are all from Pinterest I don’t own any of them #lando norris #f1 #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 fanfic #mclaren

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the-cosmic-cauldron · 9 months ago

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Astrology Observations 08/12/2024

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Your Sun Sign as a Kid and as an Older Adult

Aries

Kid: Aries as a kid is a dreamer, the kind to escape in the corner of their room envisioning all that they wanted to unfold in their future. They loved solitude, as they felt they could be in their own world without interruption. They felt so intensely connected to their imagination that it became a focal point of their childhood. They begin to look at the school kids, excited by all the possibilities to bond with different people. They fell in love fast with their crushes, thinking of them constantly and hoping that they could experience the romance of their lifetime. The Aries child has a big heart and often can put their needs to the side to help another person in need. Innocent children who needed shielding from the harsh realities of the world. They desire much affection and reassurance from their family and friends.

Older Adult: Once the Aries becomes an older adult, their exuberant energy and impulsivity begin to slow down. These people begin to vibe and chill and don’t find themselves worked up by the usual. They focus more on stabilizing their lives so they can experience all they desire before they pass. Being around those they love makes them feel grounded, and they find that they have had enough thrills to become more routine. They begin to balance their ambitions with time for leisure and can find that vacationing, being out in nature, and tending to their home bring them satisfaction.

Taurus

Kid: As a kid, there was a surge of energy felt in your body, so it was easy to become irritable. You often went into your room and focused on whatever peaked your interest and couldn’t be bothered by others. You felt that whatever you wanted must be yours, and so any desire you had, you were in pursuit of. You often felt that you needed to do something, get your blood rushing, and, at times, enjoy the thrill of life and adventures. You fell easily for your crushes and often wanted to speak and spend time with them, though you had many and plenty of crushes. You may have been moody, but you were also very excited to share your positivity.

Older Adult: As an older adult Taurus, you have a knack for speaking. You can communicate effortlessly and may turn to public speaking, writing, and conveying information to others. You become engrossed in all of the new things you discover and find that the internet is your best friend. You enjoy going out to meet new people and may desire to change your social circle. You find that boredom sets in too easily, and so you go off to scram for your next adventure or form of stimulation. You may find that your best ideas come to you in the middle of a conversation, and you may venture into taking classes, going back to pursue another degree, or finding free courses. The library is also another one of your interests, or just purchasing books. For fun, you’ll explore new places locally.

Gemini

Kid: As a child, Gemini, you were reserved and chill. Oftentimes, you lay back and let others be the stars of the show. You were picky and hard to please, oftentimes stubborn. Your parents may have had a hard time convincing you when you didn’t want to do something. You could’ve thought you were far more mature than your peers and wanted your parents to give you access to things that weren’t age-appropriate. You easily got bored of your new toy and wanted new things fairly fast. There is some sort of satisfaction that the Gemini child gets from being surrounded by material possessions. There is also a deep desire for the Gemini to feel stable and to have a very fixed routine that they follow. It takes longer for the Gemini child to form a crush and to talk to their crushes.

Older Adult: As an older adult Gemini, you begin to crave the smell of a freshly baked pie in the oven, the softness of your bed, and a nice hot shower at the end of the night. Nothing brings you more joy than your family, and you often feel delighted being around your children, partner, and grandchildren. You look at your home as a safe haven and may find that you want to renovate or improve it. Warm and sentimental, memories mean everything to you, and as much as you enjoy making them, you also enjoy the nostalgia of reviewing them. You feel your emotions much more, and that allows you to gain more insight into yourself and others. You lounge around on the sofa with your phone in your hand and a hot tea, talking about your day. You find that stability is what makes you feel at peace, so you secure your spot at your job and make sure to keep your savings.

Cancer

Kid: As a child Cancer, nothing peaked your interest more than people and your environment. You wanted to explore your hometown and make new friends. You were full of ideas, and your friends were always up to the things you wanted to do. Everything was interesting to you, and you found that there were many questions you pondered. You may have always needed an answer to some new theory or question in your mind. With so much going on mentally, journals were your best friend. Writing allowed you to get it out of your head and on paper. You were the child going from one thing to the next because you hated the feeling of being bored. The most exciting thing was taking a trip somewhere, whether to the beach, your family's house, or the zoo. Going the distance for an experience was exciting and a hallmark of your childhood.

Older Adult: As an older adult with cancer, you find that you enjoy being recognized. You no longer want to hide and can enjoy putting your talents, creativity, and style boldly out there for others. You enjoy compliments and luxury. You aim for the highest quality items, and you find that your big heart is incredibly devoted and generous to your loved ones. Warm and affectionate, you thrive during family gatherings or in your career as you make strides towards success. Your glow becomes infectious, and you age like fine wine. People love your positivity, and you gain a lot of new friends and suitors.

Leo

Kid: As a kid, nothing excites you more than coming home to your favorite food. The scent taking over your house made you feel at home and delighted to exist. Family meant everything to you, and you enjoyed time with your grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, and siblings. Sensitive at heart, you cherished every new friend you made. The holidays were an exciting time for you and a hallmark of your childhood. In the midst of the busyness, you took time to indulge in your imagination.

Older Adult: As an older adult, Leo, you find that you want to refine your life. Everything needs an upgrade, and you’re very particular in your aesthetic and taste. Your focus may turn towards being of service to those around you; you may be the one people call on for assistance. You find that you get intrigued and more pragmatic towards your career goals, and you may switch into a field where you can learn and advance. You are not easy to let people in, and you compartmentalize your life. You may have work friends, but outside of work, you tend to tread a different path and present a different character. You become organized and want to put your best self forward.

Virgo

Kid: As a kid, you were multi-talented and incredibly creative. People often rejoiced in hearing your ideas, and you had an infectious smile and aura that made people fond of you. You were generous, offering yourself and your possessions to others. With such a big heart, it was easy for teachers, parents, and friends to like you. Playtime was very exciting, and you enjoyed exploring your mind through play. You enjoyed affection, affirmations, and compliments. You stood out and did things others wanted to do for themselves.

Older Adult: As an older adult, Virgo, you find that your taste expands. You have an eye for beauty and art. You may find that you’re drawn to the field of the arts and that you have a desire to upgrade your fashion and style. You enjoy socializing and find that you get along with all different kinds of people, but harmony in your relationships is prioritized. Your social circle widens, and opportunities to travel, be promoted at work, or go out around town open. You find that people are drawn to you without you doing much. You care a lot about others and are constantly looking to improve the circumstances or the world. You find partnership very important and focus on deepening your bond or finding your soulmate.

Libra

Kid: As a kid, you enjoyed reading a lot. Your source of entertainment was learning, and it felt great to be able to read up on different subjects. You were the kid watching everyone else, observant of your surroundings; you were trying to make sense of the world around you. Kind and manner-able, you followed directions and were sweet to other children. You often looked to others to see what was appropriate behavior, and you found out quickly what you needed to do in order to fit in. You wanted to do well at everything you did, and a simple art project encouraged you to bring out all your technical skills. You wanted to impress others with your ability to surpass expectations.

Older Adult: As an older adult, Libra, you seek to gain status in this world. You’re not the person who wants to flaunt it; instead, something intense and intrinsic tells you you need to make a mark on this world and leave behind a legacy. You begin to pick up momentum, determined to work towards success. In the meantime, you also have a deep desire to search for the truth, and your spiritual beliefs may shift. You may find that you go through a transformation unexpectedly that shifts your perception of the world and makes you feel and see things much deeper. You can start to grow distrustful of people and become more private with yourself. It can be hard to gain access to you as you have a different perception of your relationships.

Scorpio

Kid: As a kid, Scorpio, you are a social butterfly. You love being around others, especially your friends who you chat the day away with. You enjoyed the luxuries of life as a kid: dining out, movies, parks, etc. You love having a good time and being out and about. Receiving gifts and new things excited you, and the more possessions you had, the more content you felt. You were always there for those you felt were not getting what they deserved because you believed in their well-being. You enjoy dressing up, changing, and experimenting with your style, and you loved romance films and had many crushes.

Older adult: As an older adult Scorpio, you give zero fucks. You don’t care what people think of you because your pleasure and enjoyment are what matter, and you’re going to do the things that fulfill you. You may find that you start to look at your beliefs and may start to ponder questions of life that you haven’t examined before. You may feel the need to join a religion, turn to spirituality, or go through a period of reinventing and finding yourself. You laugh loudly and have a lot of fun; distant lands and traveling locally both sound exhilarating. You’re less rigid and more open and perceptive, allowing others to understand your inner workings more.

Sagittarius

Kid: As a kid, you were interesting; leaving you alone wasn’t hard because there was a level of maturity you held at a young age. You were also quite introverted, always scanning and analyzing those who came close to you. You were the chill kid, but deep inside was an entire world no one knew about, and you were firm with that. You kept it to yourself and explored it on your own. Oftentimes, as a kid, you were stuck on carving out your own path, which could’ve led to either an interesting group of friends or a more lonesome social life. You were interested in an array of fascinating topics, and you constantly wanted to learn and know more.

Older Adult: As an older adult, you get serious. You mean business, and you want to be the boss and at the top of what you do. You don’t have time to wait on the sidelines; you need to be at the forefront. Stability means everything to you because you want to enjoy your retirement. You like to be around material possessions, and you find that you are more into quality than quantity. You are honest and direct in how you speak, but you don’t have time for the fluff; you want to know what is true and real. You find that you have an easier time handling responsibilities.

Capricorn

Kid: As a kid, Capricorn, you were hungry for knowledge. Nothing makes you feel more at home than learning more and getting deep into your studies and interests. You were hardly satisfied with scratching the surface as you plunged deeper and deeper into your curiosity’s. You often said whatever was on your mind, which could make for great humor or a lot of awkwardness. You always wanted to experience more, and you had a deep desire for total freedom. Outside of your fascinations, you were lighthearted and fun. You boosted people’s mood just by being around, and they were cherished for your strong personality.

Older Adult: As an older adult, Capricorn finds that routine is frustrating and that, after all, accumulating possessions isn’t as satisfying. The Capricorn starts to deviate from their goals and starts thinking large. They realize there is a whole world out there, and what part do they play in creating a better society for the next generation? The Capricorn takes their material possessions and donates them, does volunteer work, and advocates for other disadvantaged people. The Capricorn finds that they become interested in new technologies and different communities that they’ve never been apart of. By increasing their social presence, Capricorn gains a lot of new and unique friends with whom they can share their ideas.

Aquarius

Kid: As a kid, Aquarius, you were studious. You followed the rules, did what was told, and wanted to exceed expectations. You were reserved and often preferred to be in the background. You talked in a direct way and may have enjoyed extracurricular activities and being challenged. You gained a lot of awards, medals, and badges. You weren’t focused much on crushes. You were often more mature in acting or looking than those around you. You kept how you felt to yourself.

Older Adult: As an older adult, Aquarius, you find yourself connected to your spirituality a lot more. Your connection to others in your life is a strength, and it’s as if you feel life has transformed for you. You begin to feel your emotions more intensely, which leads you to stray off to yourself to escape into your own fantasy world. You could really find that your inner world is far more fascinating than the world outside your home. You discover sides to yourself that you haven't, and you strengthen your relationship with your partner or find yourself in search of your soulmate. The artistic side of you shines more, and you can feel that laying low and occupying yourself on your own feels a lot more fun.

Pisces

Kid: As a kid, you stand out; you’re sort of an odd ball in your own way. People find you interesting, and you might even be puzzled by yourself. There is a level of surprise and unpredictability that comes with it. You often, at times, rebel for the sake of it. You love meeting all kinds of people and enjoy learning about others and their lives. You find that you don’t want to tie yourself down much and enjoy grandiose ideas. When you have one, you’re sure to tell everyone as well. At times, you detach from your own world and can seem a bit disinterested in life and others.

Older Adult: You find that you have come out of your cave and made your mark on this world. One day things change, and you have a certain boldness that shocks others. You start manifesting and creating the life you want, and all of the things you mentioned finally sprout. You go through many phases before finding the path to what you truly feel resonates, and you’re always cheerful, making others smile. You find that you can assert yourself and your boundaries easier.

Why These Pairings End Up Together

Aries- Virgo

These signs both have a focus on goals and desire loyalty.

Taurus-Libra

These signs share sensitivity and a mental connection.

Gemini-Scorpio

These signs are both powerful, one determined to gain success and the other determined to influence.

Cancer- Sagittarius

These signs both go after what they want and value honesty.

Leo-Capricorn

These signs are both independent and confident.

Virgo-Aquarius

These signs both desire a better world and share a spiritual bond.

Libra-Pisces

These signs are both artistic and in their own worlds.

Scorpio-Aries

These signs are both strong and powerful leaders.

Sagittarius-Taurus

These signs are both physical and spiritual.

Capricorn-Gemini

These signs both speak their minds and have influence.

Aquarius-Cancer

These signs both are visionaries who don’t mind taking their time to make things great.

Pisces-Leo

These signs both are creative and involve themselves with others very well.

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#astro notes #astro observations #astro placements #astroblr #astrology

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sacr1ficialang3l · 2 months ago

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The darker the fruit, the sweeter.𖤐

DEAN WINCHESTER X GOTH!READER (meet her)

SUMMARY: The brothers and reader are investigating a new case when they makes a new furry friend. Dean is not a big fan of him at first, but they both soon find out that they are more alike than they expected. 5.3k

WARNINGS: fem!reader. this is all pretty fluffy and cute. finally getting together.

NOTES: goth!reader is back! I genuinely love writing for her so much. I had a more complex plot for this idea but it was way too long as it is. Maybe one day I will expand it and post it in ao3 instead. Let me know if you'd be interested in that! As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

You hated hunts when you didn’t know what you were dealing with, but they were usually also the most “fun”, as fun as hunting monsters that can kill you can get.

Because yes, vengeful spirits and vamp nests and werewolves were always easy to recognize, and more or less an easy gig. But when the creature was unknown, it was dangerous. Not knowing what you were dealing with could make the difference between life and death, but the research was just so much fun.

Reading books and articles of lore about creatures all around the world, Sam and you hunched over his laptop for hours talking about Telkhines, or maybe an unicorn? And What the hell is a selkie?

It was like a big game of Clue where you had to put together who, where, and with what. Just that in this game, you could be the next victim, or Sam, or Dean.

Anyway, the important thing was, you didn’t know how to feel right now.

People had been disappearing without any explanation, not a trace of them anywhere. There was no connection or similarities between the victims, all different ages and different genders. It had to be your kind of thing, because the people would disappear from their home, usually at night, but there was never any sign of break-in, and it was very improbable that so many people from the same town had just decided to ditch for no reason.

That is why, after a long day of talking to victims’ families and going over every police report and lore book available, Sam, Dean, and you return to the motel room with exhausted expressions and slumped shoulders.

The night was cold, and you couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and finally get some sleep, your feet aching from the platform boots you refused to stop wearing and your eyeliner smudged after you accidentally rubbed your eyes three hours into researching.

When you had checked into the motel room that morning, you were told that there was only one room available. This was something that happened every once in a while, and if you had to be honest, it didn’t really bother you. Yes, three grown adults in one shitty motel room was a little cramped, but you had spent so much time alone, it felt nice to be around people, especially people you trusted as much as you trusted the Winchester brothers. This was also why you never minded sharing a bed. It was… warmer, less lonely.

So every time this happened, you would swap who you share with.

Sharing a bed with Sam was fine. He was huge and would eventually push you to the edge of the mattress, but it was fine.

Sharing with Dean, on the other hand, was an ordeal.

He would usually try to take the couch, except when the motel was shitty enough to not have a couch or for it to be more akin to a huge rock than a comfortable place to lay down. Those times, you forced Dean to sleep in the same bed with you.

“It’s not big deal, Dean. Come on, stop throwing a tantrum. It is cold, get into bed.”

That would usually do the trick. You would lay awkwardly next to each other, both of you on your back and facing the ceiling. But then, when the only thing around you was the darkness and silence of the night, you would get more comfortable. Turning around in the bed, facing each other, knees brushing or arms touching. You would listen to the other breath, and your eyes would sometimes meet under the barely-there moonlight filtering through the window, both of you frozen, but feeling more at peace than you ever had. One night, when Dean had an especially bad case of insomnia, you ended up running your hand up and down his back until he fell asleep.

But you were friends, of course.

This time it was Dean’s turn to share, and you were equally excited and terrified.

It all leaves your mind when you find a huge, majestic doberman sitting down in front of your motel room. The sight of the dog immediately makes all exhaustion fly away from your body, but before you can say or do anything, Dean is taking a step towards it.

“Excuse me, dude.” He murmurs, trying to get around the dog.

The doberman immediately snarls, snapping his sharp teeth towards Dean. You watch as Dean jumps back, and in a reaction that you know is pure instinct from fighting monsters for years, he gets ready to fight. He doesn’t hurt the dog, doesn’t even try to. But his shoulders tighten in that way they do when he is expecting something to jump him, and he is thinking what the best way to knock it down is.

Before anything else can happen, you grab Dean’s arm and pull him back.

“Don’t.” You command firmly, quickly dropping to your knees in front of the animal, who was still baring his teeth. You ignore Dean’s warning and you simply make yourself small while quickly taking all of the rings in your right hand off, sliding them into your jacket pocket before slowly, very carefully offering your hand to the dog.

Dean says your name urgently again. “I don’t think you should-”

“Shhh.”

The doberman, who was almost taller than you as you kneeled on the floor, was still baring his teeth and tense, but he wasn’t snarling anymore. You slowly move your hand closer, palm down, and he growls when you get a little too close. Both Sam and Dean call your name this time.

“It’s okay.” You murmur gently, for both the brothers and the dog. “It’s okay, pretty boy. I won’t hurt you, okay?”

Your sweet, soft voice seems to calm down the animal, and he moves his snout closer, smelling your hand from a distance. He is careful at first, hesitant, but a second later he is knocking the palm of your hand with the top of his head.

“There you go, see? It’s okay.” You pet the top of his head, movements soft and slow. When the doberman stops baring his teeth, you scoot closer. “You’re not dangerous.You’re just scared, right?”

By now both your hands are petting the dog, cradling his little (or not so little) face, rubbing up and down his neck, scratching behind his ears.

“See?” You ask again, but this time you do turn to look at Sam and Dean, who are looking down at you in disbelief. “There was no need to fight, he’s a sweetheart.”

“He looked ready to bite my head off.” Dean grumbles, and you are about to retort when the cold nose of the doberman hits your neck and he starts to sniffle you, from the collar of your jacket to the apple of your cheek. He ends up licking your face and it makes you giggle, leaning your face away and turning back to the giant animal.

“He was just scared, weren’t you, boy?” You ask in your best puppy voice. “The world has been cruel to you, and you learned to bite first.” You whisper as you notice how cold the dog was, how there was no collar around his neck, and the long scar across his right eye. Not to mention the fact that his ears and tail were cropped. “But all you need is a little love, isn’t that right? A little kindness and it all melts away.”

The dog’s nose nuzzles against your chest again and you almost melt from the inside out. You keep gently petting him as you turn back to Dean, who was now looking down at you with dark, unreadable eyes. It leaves you breathless for a moment, and you don’t know what even prompted that reaction.

You open your mouth to say… honestly, you don't even know what you were going to say, but thankfully Sam, who looks like all the exhaustion has also banished from his body and is now smirking, walks past you and opens the door to the motel room.

You quickly get up from the floor, the doberman following your lead. You walk up to the door, both Dean and the dog behind you.

“Come on in, boy.” You point towards the inside of the room when the dog– you would give him a name, but then you’d get too attached– stopped right before walking into the room.

“No way.” Dean interjects, arms crossed, and frowning.

“Dean, it is freezing out here. We can’t let him sleep outside.”

“I refuse to sleep with dog smell all over the room.” He insisted, and was that a pout?

“I’m team ‘he stays’” Sam announces, still grinning, before making his way into the bathroom.

You cross your arms too, turning to look at Dean with a challenging look on your face.

“That’s two against one. And if I have to choose between you and the doggy, then good luck sleeping in the Impala.”

You hold Dean’s eyes for a long moment, not faltering for a second. He looks at you in disbelief before he seems to notice that there’s no arguing with you in this one. You were incredibly stubborn sometimes, like when you refused to leave the cemetery that first night you met.

But that was the reason why you were here right now, so maybe you were right about the dog. He would never admit it, though.

He simply sighs in defeat, shoulders dropping, and a pleased grin quickly takes over your face. You do a little jump, and Dean once again feels impressed by how well you move in those high boots.

“Yes!” You giggle with that sweet smile on your face, your lipstick faded from the long day out but still somehow that smooth wine color that made Dean weak in the knees. “Now come in, pretty boy.”

The dog, who had just been looking up at you during the conversation, seems to finally be convinced to walk inside the motel room. He still turns around to check that you’re walking inside too, sitting right by your side as you take off your jacket and boots.

It was adorable.

It had been a few hours since you had gotten to the motel. Right now, Sam was doing some more research while Dean called up Bobby to see if he could find anything. You had walked to the nearby grocery store to buy some dog food and some plastic containers. You served the food and some water on them when you and the dog returned from the store, since he refused to leave your side.

You had to be honest, walking alone at night never felt safer with a huge black doberman walking alongside you. For just one second, you could live out your goth princess dreams.

Now, the pup was eating his food. The poor thing was probably starving out there in the street. You wonder who could have abandoned such a beautiful animal, and leave him to freeze on the street. The dog was friendly enough, sometimes sniffing at Sam’s shoes but hiding behind your legs when he tried to pet him. He was clearly still scared, and you feel a sense of pride fill your chest at the knowledge that the dog decided to trust you.

You change into your pajamas and lay on the bed, groaning as your tense muscles finally relax against the almost comfortable surface of the shitty mattress. You hear the sound of paws hitting the floor and you turn your head to look down the edge of the bed, where the doberman was staring up at you with– there was no other way to describe it than puppy eyes.

You chuckle, and get more comfortable on the bed before patting the spot next to you once, and that was enough for the dog to jump.

“Oh, come on! I gotta sleep on that bed.” Dean complains, but you ignore it in order to laugh when instead of the big space next to you, the dog decides to climb on top of you, laying his head on your chest and making you groan at the weight on your stomach.

“Seriously, dude?” You ask the dog, who only licks your cheek once and seems to get even heavier.

You lay there on the bed, a giant puppy on top of you with no way of moving and no heart to push him away.

You hear Sam laugh and you try to look at the brothers past the big fur ball resting right in front of your face. You catch sight of the younger one’s smirk and Dean’s unimpressed face. He looked almost offended, and it was hilarious. You laugh, and it causes the doberman to tilt his head and look at you curiously. Your heart aches, and you remind yourself not to get attached.

You sigh, starting to pet the dog gently. You distantly hear Sam and Dean chat and bicker about something, but you focus on the puppy on your chest. You scratch behind his ears and boop his nose with yours, murmuring sweet nothings under your breath.

Humans were complicated. You had realized from a young age that not many people felt as much as you did, not everyone had so many emotions that they threatened to spill out every time they opened their mouth. Your heart was too big for your body, your mother used to say when you were a kid. But she didn’t say it as a good thing, because it made you too vulnerable, too weak, too much like her. So when you were confronted with the cruelty of this world, when you discovered how awful people could be, you learned to keep that part of yourself hidden, locked away in a little box on your chest that only opened up when you were writing poetry or when it was time for your monthly crying session.

Or when you were in the presence of animals. Animals were pure creatures, sweet and loving and unjudging. When you found a stray cat in a cemetery, or when you encountered some critter while foraging, or when little moths landed next to you in the abandoned house you used to spend your time in, that little box opened up and you let all the words stuck in the back of your throat come out. Because animals were the only creatures that deserved them. Or that’s what you thought, until some green-eyed hunter, who at first looked at you with the same seemingly angry but actually scared eyes as the doberman had, had made his way into your heart and was now threatening to break the lock that kept the box closed.

You brush your thumb over the long scar across the dog’s eye. It is healed, but it also looks recent.

“You’re so beautiful.” You murmur to the pup, giggling when he pushes his head up into your hand for more ear scratches.

“Aw, thank you.” Dean places a hand on his chest, as if he was actually touched by the compliment. He was now standing on the side of the bed, looking down at you with a teasing grin. But there was something in his eyes, an edge that you couldn’t recognize. “I knew you wouldn’t resist my charms.”

You laugh at that, shaking your head. Noticing that your attention wasn’t on him anymore, the doberman turns his head towards Dean, and he snarls again.

“Hey, nuh-uh.” You scold the pup firmly, tapping his snout softly twice. It stops the snarling, but the dog is still baring his teeth. “Dean is a friend, okay? He is amiable, even if he doesn’t look like it.” You can’t help but tease Dean, making him roll his eyes.

The doberman’s eyes stay wearily on Dean, but he doesn’t make a move to attack. You try to sit up on the bed, but the dog seems to somehow push you down into the mattress. You laugh, accepting your fate and extending your hand towards Dean instead.

“Give me your hand.” Dean looks at you with wide eyes for a second, but then he places his hand on yours. You ignore the feeling of his rough skin on yours, how warm he is in comparison with how cold you always are, how his silver ring feels against your palm, how much you wanted to intertwine your fingers with his.

Instead, you move both your hands closer to the dog’s nose, slowly.

“If the mutt bites me, I’m gonna kill you.” Dean warns, but he sounds a little out of breath.

The pup lets out a low growl, and you move your other hand to scratch behind his ear.

“It’s okay, I promise. He’s a friend.” Your reassuring tone seems to calm him down a bit, and he slowly leans in to sniff at your joined hands. You slowly move your hand until it is holding Dean’s wrist instead of his palm, letting the dog smell only Dean. He apparently deems the human acceptable, because he stops baring his teeth and leans the tiniest bit forward. You guide Dean’s hand to the top of the doberman’s head, letting it rest there softly for the hunter to pet him. “See, puppy?” you whisper towards the dog, but your eyes move up to meet Dean’s. “He may be a little rough around the edges, but he’s actually harmless.”

That makes Dean snort, eyes darting down to the dog still laying on your chest while he scratches his head, and you think his cheeks flush a little.

“There are several creatures, both human and non-human, that might disagree with that.” He jokes, but his voice is softer and low. It is your time to snort.

“Well, I was never known for agreeing with the general public.” Dean meets your eyes again, and something passes in between you two. Your breath hitches at the rawness in his gaze, and then your fingers bump where you were both petting the dog. “I always had a soft spot for what others consider scary.”

A long moment of silence, your fingers brush against his again, Dean opens his mouth.

And then the doberman is licking your cheek and almost all the way up to your forehead. You let out a surprised shriek and you turn your face further to the side, laughing and trying to get away from the dog’s wet kisses.

“Hey! Stop, boy. Sto– ah!” You are trying to push the pup off of you, but there is no way of pushing him away. You try to turn his face away with your hand but instead he gives you a little bite.

It is playful, a barely-there nip with his front teeth. You look at him with an offended look in your eyes, and you can almost swear the pup is grinning. Dean starts laughing at the scene, and you pout, turning to Sam for help. The younger Winchester is useless, simply giving you a shrug and going back to his research. You stare at the ceiling and start to question your life choices.

“How did I end up trapped in a motel room with three insufferable boys?”

Dean ends up not letting the dog sleep in the bed. You somehow manage to move him from on top of you and lay down a couple of blankets and some of your clothes on the floor next to the bed for the pup to sleep in.

It was late into the night already, and you were half asleep already, lulled by Dean’s warmth. Because you gave one of the blankets to the doberman, now Dean and you had to share the other one. He complains about it for like an hour, and you had to admit the night was cold enough for one blanket to not be enough. But once you threaten him with letting the dog on the bed and sending him to the floor, Dean accepts sharing the blanket.

It turned out to be as much of a bad idea as it was a good one. Not only did it force you to be even closer to each other to fit in, but it also gave place for a lot more physical contact. Now when your knee brushes his thigh, it is skin on skin instead of over the covers, when his fingers brush your lower back, it is right where your Type O Negative shirt has lifted up. It was a magical kind of torture.

At some point when you are more asleep than awake, you feel a new weight on the mattress. You are too tired to even register what it is or what it could mean. You just scoot to the side, giving the creature more space and pressing closer to the figure next to you. You would think that by this point, your hunter’s instincts would be more developed, but you weren’t very smart when you were sleepy.

You quickly fall back into unconsciousness completely when the heat radiating from both your sides now envelopes you. You were cold almost all the time. Even in the summer, somehow your hands managed to find a way to stay icy. On low temperature nights like this, it was worse. You didn’t mind it, you enjoyed the cold, but the boys constantly complained when you touched them with your freezing hands. But right now, with two extra-hot bodies pressed against either side of you, you sleep through the night like you haven't in years.

The next time you wake up, it takes you a few seconds to understand where you are. The bed feels smaller than it did when you went to sleep, and there is a new weight on your waist. It isn’t until you hear two different snores that you finally open your eyes, confused. In front of you, curled up in the little nook created by your torso and bended knees, is the doberman sleeping peacefully. He somehow got into the bed at some point in the night, you register, and now he is taking up half of the bed. One of the snores is coming from him, but the other one comes from behind you, as well as the pressure on your middle.

A little panicked, you turn your head around slowly. As you feared, Dean has an arm around you, his chest pressed against your back. He too was fast asleep, mouth slightly open and his grip on you firm. You turn to look at the other bed, but you find it empty. Sam had probably gone out for his morning run, and you let yourself panic for a second.

The little grunt that Dean lets out when you try to move and the way his arm tightens on your waist make you feel a little dizzy. You slowly, very slowly, slide down the bed. It is a miracle that Dean doesn't wake up, he must be really exhausted for his instincts not to alert him of the movement. The puppy also stays asleep, and you quietly scurry to the bathroom. You wash your face with cold water when you notice how flushed your cheeks are. You aren’t a high schooler, you can handle a little cuddling with a close friend.

But Dean was more than that, wasn’t him?

You brush your teeth, cursing yourself for forgetting to bring a clean set of clothes so you could shower. You mentally prepare to walk outside for them, repeating to yourself that Dean was asleep the whole time, he probably didn’t even notice what happened. It was fine, you were fine.

(It had been years since someone had held you like that, it wasn’t fine.)

You step out of the bathroom in the hope that Dean would still be asleep, but you’re not that lucky. Instead, you are met with two sleepy boys staring at you from the bed. Both the doberman and Dean were now sitting on the mattress, Dean with messy hair and half-lidded eyes, the dog with a strikingly similar drowsy demeanor. They turn to you when they hear the sound of the bathroom door opening, and at the exact same time, they tilt their heads to the side in confusion.

You stand there, staring at the big bad dog and big bad hunter in front of you, who are now soft and sleepy and pouty (at least Dean was) while they stare back with questioning looks. Almost as if wondering why’d you leave the bed, but that was probably wishful thinking. Like this, the resemblance between them was uncanny.

“Good morning?” You ask tentatively when Dean doesn’t say anything.

The pup seems to finally snap out of it at the sound of your voice, and he jumps off the bed to say hi to you. He wags his tail and presses his head to your hand until you give him a good deal of head scratches before he is moving to where the food and water bowls are on the floor.

You turn to Dean after that, and he looks a little more awake at least. His eyes are squinting and his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he is trying to remember something.

“Did the dog sleep with us in the bed?” You ignore the way his voice was even deeper after waking up.

You giggle, nodding. “Yeah, he got up at some point in the night. I don’t know how we managed to all fit.”

Dean chuckles at that while he rubs a hand over his face, and you beg that he doesn’t remember anything else.

“Did he sleep next to me? I swear I could feel something pressing against me through the night, but then I woke up and he was laying down pretty far away from me.”

That makes you freeze for a second, but you just shake your head nonchalantly.

“Nah, he slept right when you found him all night. Maybe it was a Succubus” You joke casually while you move to grab a clean set of clothes. You had never been happier to see Sam than when he walks into the motel room right at that moment. Your eyes meet for a second, and you take in his post-running state at the same time he notices the clothes and the toiletry bag in your arms before the two of you both rush towards the bathroom.

“Not fair! I am all gross and sweaty.” Sam complains when you get there first.

You giggle, closing and locking the door behind you without saying anything.

“I could swear I was hugging something.”

You had finally solved the case two days later. As it turned out, the creature that was kidnapping people in town was a skinwalker. The reason why you hadn’t figured it out yet is because this one, instead of feeding on people’s hearts and leaving the bodies there for you to find, was actually dragging people from their homes and “storing” them in some abandoned house outside of town. You are able to discover all of this because your new friend, as you discovered that same day, was actually the pet of one of the people kidnapped. The scar over his eye had been made by the skinwalker the night it attacked his owner, and the puppy was able to track the scent of it once Sam, Dean, and you had found some fur in the house of one of the victims.

Once you entered the abandoned house, you had found most of the victims still alive, all tied up in chains and waiting to have their hearts eaten out. Apparently, as the skinwalker told you and the brothers in his best attempt at a villain monologue, he had been exiled from his pack and forced to become an outcast. Having lived all his life in a pack, he could barely fend for himself alone. He had gone hungry, almost starving to death. That was why now, in an almost feral state, he was making sure to have enough food stashed.

As weird as this was, it was good news. You were able to kill the skinwalker and free all of the survivors. It was always nice when you were able to save more people than you had expected. In between the freed people there was the doberman’s owner– some guy in his forties with long, wavy black hair and a whole tattoo sleeve. Yeah, it fits. You watch as the guy and the dog meet again, how it was so clear that they loved each other, and even if you’re happy for them, you can’t help the way your heart aches at the knowledge that you would have to say goodbye to the pup.

The doberman runs towards you after he finishes saying hello to his owner, and Sam quickly explains to the guy the dog’s stay with you while you kneel in front of the doberman and whisper your farewell. The puppy licks your cheek again and it almost makes your eyes water. The owner thanks you for taking care of Billie Joe –of course the dude named the dog after Green Day– and they both leave.

You stare at their figures as they walk away in silence for a moment, not being able to help the pout that forms in your face. Sam goes to talk with some more of the surviving victims, while Dean stays by your side.

“You know, maybe dogs aren’t that bad. Even if that one could barely stand me.”

You chuckle softly, It’s subtle –Dean wouldn’t make it obvious– but you know he’s trying to lift your spirits. You shake your head, turning to look into his eyes.

It always shocked you how beautiful Dean could look even after a hunt, when he was covered in dirt and all bloody.

Then again, you always had a thing for hot guys covered in blood.

“I think you two were just too much alike.” You tease, bumping his shoulder with yours.

He laughs, but it’s softer than usual– quieter, less guarded. His usual edge is missing, replaced by something warmer, more open.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, looking at the ground before his gaze returns to you, taking in the way your smudged eyeliner made your eyes pop out, the way your black hair looked almost blue under the street lights, how gentle your smile was even with your sharp teeth and spiky jewelry. “You seemed to like him, though. A lot.”

A long silence follows the comment as you two stare at each other. The tension, simmering under the surface for weeks now, threatens to boil over. The memory of Dean’s arm around you while sleeping comes back to your mind, and you decide that if there was anyone you could trust with the key to the box in your chest, it was him.

“Yeah, I did.” You admit, barely louder than a whisper. “I never could resist a good train wreck.”

The next thing you register is the feeling of Dean’s lips over yours, and for a moment you wonder if this is why poets write. Because the sensations that travel all through your body as you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck and his hands wrap around your waist, the taste of his tongue, and the smell that clings to him are all so otherworldly and hauntingly magical that you feel compelled to delve into the entire English language to find the perfect words to describe it, but you just know that nothing will ever be able to convey what it was like to be held in Dean Winchester’s arms.

“Does this mean I can convince you of adopting a dog now?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“What about a cat?”

“No. And there is no amount of kissing that can change my mind.”

“What about a raven? Or a spider!”

“God, what did I get myself into.”

NOTES: I am not completely satisfied with this so I might revisit it some day. Still, I hope you enjoyed it.

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera<3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

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improbable-outset · 8 months ago

Text

📄 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡’𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐭

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: secret relationship, clothed fingering, teasing, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After another victory for the Giants, Ken has only one thing on his mind—celebrating with you, away from the prying eyes of his teammates and your father.

You pulled your jacket tighter against the cool night air, the chill biting your skin as your gaze drifted one the now-empty field. The faint echo of cheering fans still hung in the air after Yomiuri Giants had won the game, though the excitement had long passed.

From up here in the nosebleeds, the rest of the world seemed distant, like you were in your own bubble. You always preferred the solitude after a game.

It was the perfect place to wind down from the excitement. Though the altitude left you shivering a little, the peace was always worth it.

The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs made you turn, and there he was— Ken. He wore the playful grin he only gave you. The kind that promised trouble, yet made your heart quicken.

Each step brought him closer, his broad figure cutting though the dim light. You couldn’t help but feel your breath catch as he quickened his pace, his smile never faltered.

“Thought you could hide from me?” Ken teased, the star player who had taken the Giants by storm.

He slid into the seat next to you with the ease of someone who he knew was wanted, his arm casually resting along the back of your chair to pull you closer. “Had to ditch a few reporters to get here.”

You laughed softly, but the revelation of him going out of his way to find you sent a thrill in your chest. He always found you, no matter how high or far you tried to distant yourself.

“I wouldn’t say hiding,” you replied, leaning closer to him.

“No? Just enjoying a nice quiet spot all alone, huh?” He raised a brow. You always liked keeping him on his toes, challenging him to see if he’d chase up to you and he always did, every time.

“Well…it is a nice view,” you remarked, your voice carrying a matter-of-fact tone before your eyes fixed on the empty pitch below.

Only moments ago, thousands of eyes had been glued to the field, hearts pounding in sync and riding the thill of anticipation. The roar of crowds as the last bat swung through the air, sealing the games fate, still reverberating in your mind.

The lights had dimmed now, casting the entire stadium in shadows. Despite the stillness, the view was still breathtaking. From this height, you could see every seat, each one now vacant. The vastness of it felt both daunting and exhilarating.

You could feel Ken watching you quietly, seemingly admiring the way your eyes took it all in. It was like the gears that was turning in your head was showing in your awe-struck expression.

“You’re right,” he finally agreed, a hint of sincerity in his voice. “It is a nice view.”

“How do people even watch the games from up here?” The pitch from your view looked so small, almost insignificant— it was hard to believe that anyone could see the players or follow then game from here.

Ken chuckled at your genuine curiosity, a sound that echoed in your chest. “Most people don’t,” he answered, glancing over the empty stands. “Most people want to be down there, cheering with the rest of the crowd. But I prefer it up here.”

You held onto the back of the seat that was in front of you, leaning over slightly as the cool night brushed against your face. The wind made the tip of your nose and fingers feel colder until they were almost numb. “It’s colder up here too…”

“Yeah it is…you’re not too cold are you?” he asked with genuine concern.

He shifted besides you, his body turning just enough that you could feel his warmth. You hesitated for a second. If you said yes, he’d probably pull you into his arms, sharing his warmth with you, since you already had a jacket.

But the fear of prying eyes— especially from your father— made you shake your head.

“You know…” you started, drawing in another deep breath of the cold air. “I think watching the game from down there would be too much as well. Maybe the middle…that’s where the sweet spot is.”

“You’ve got it all figured out, huh?” he leaned across his seat until he was close enough for his shoulders to touch yours. “You never really said why you were up here,”

Ken waited for you to response. He could probably sense that there was more to your thoughts than just a discussion about optimal view locations.

You let out a sigh before you answered. “I just wanted to be away from the noise. No one comes up here after the game.”

Ken didn’t say anything at first, but from the look in his eyes, you knew he understood. He had his own way of seeking refuge from the chaotic world that surrounded him, especially as a star player.

It was something you both shared in experience, the unspoken need to escape.

“I know what you mean…the crowd gets a bit much sometimes.”

You turned to face him fully, you tone dropped into something more serious, almost urgent. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the team down there?” you asked. “Dad’s probably gonna be looking for you…”

Your father— the head coach of the Yomiuri Giants— had always been strict about sticking to schedule, especially after a win. His players were supposed to be attending the post-game meetings, meeting interviews, or just sticking close for team celebrations. Something Ken wasn’t the best at keeping at.

There were a lot of benefits being the daughter the coach. You had special access and credentials which allowed you into the stadium without a ticket, especially for home games.

It also allowed you access to areas that were off-limits to regular fans, like locker rooms and training areas. That was how you got close with Ken Sato— but it was more him trying to get close to you initially.

Ken rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Probably.” he admitted. “But I wanted to see you instead.”

You didn’t repond right away, but your eyes were drawn to the way the wind played with his hair, tousling it slightly.

Something about the sight made a sudden urge to touch him wash over you. Before you could stop yourself, your fingers reached out, brushing some of the locks back.

Ken leaned into your touch, his eyes closed for a brief moment as your fingers combed through the soft strands.

“Your hairs getting messy,” you remarked, as if that wasn’t obvious already. Though the words came out more as an excuse to keep touching him, feeling his scalp beneath your fingertips. Ken’s eyes fluttered open again.

“I guess it is, huh?” He reached up, gently catching your wrist in his hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You like it messy?”

As you and Ken continued to enjoy the quiet moment, a sudden noise from below snapped you out of your reverie. Footsteps echoed up the stairs, sharp against the hollow metal.

“Someone’s coming—” you whispered urgently, your stomach almost lurching out of your throat. Ken stiffened besides you, instantly alert, his sharp gaze scanned the area.

The footsteps grew louder, the sound bouncing off the empty space, making it harder to tell where it was coming from or how close they were.

The pitch had been emptied out long ago, and you weren’t sure who would still be wandering around. Whoever was coming didn’t seem like a fan, but you couldn’t take the chances.

“Come on,” Ken grabbed your hand and pulled you swiftly to your feet.

You followed him, barely keeping up with his long stride. He moved with a kind of confidence he always had, in every moment like this— sneaking away like you were fugitives.

His grip was firm, steadying, as he led you between the tight rows of bleachers, your foot steps muted on the metal..

It was cramped, the metal beams and tight corners forced you closer together. The faint smell of dirt and grass filled your senses, mixed with the scent of steel and old concessions. The footsteps grew louder now as you pressed yourself against Ken.

Ken lowered himself to the ground, pulling you with him until you were sitting on his lap, pressed against him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as your legs draped across his. You could feel his grip around your tightening, silently communicating for you to remain quiet.

The person was very close to where you two were hidden— only a few more steps and they would catch the both of you huddled together. You just hoped it wasn’t your Dad looking for Ken.

You tried to keep yourself steady but with him being this close, it was getting increasingly difficult to focus on anything but the fact that you were on his lap. Without thinking, a soft sound escaped your lips.

“Hmm…”

Ken’s grip on you tightened, and he shot you a sharp, warning look. His eyes flickered to your lips. For a moment, you thought he might cover your mouth with his hand— something you weren’t entirely opposed to.

You didn’t expect what came next— a subtle movement of his hand, slipping between your thighs, using his fingers to put more pressure.

The sudden sensation sent a shiver down your spine. You instinctively clamped your legs together, trapping his hand between them, his fingers squished against your core.

But that only added to his tryst. You felt him curl his fingers to reach your clothes folds, making sure to focus his attention on the one spot that he knew would drive you to the edge.

You shot him an annoyed whisper, “What are you doing?” Though the warmth that pooled in your core told you that you already knew.

Ken didn’t respond with words. Instead, he curled his fingers again, his eyes locked onto yours with a mischievous glint. You bit your lip, the temptation to let out a sound was getting harder to resist.

Out of impulse, you rolled your hips to get more friction, grinding against his fingers. You felt a hum of approval vibrate from his through as you squirmed in his grasp.

The sounds of the footsteps gradually faded, signaling the coast was clear. But all you could focus on was Ken’s hand, still dangerous close to your sensitive spot.

“Ken—” you hissed before letting out a moan.

“Yeah?” he inquired, feigning innocence, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing to you. His fingers still traced slow, teasing circles over your core, pressed against the fabric of your pants just enough to send sparks through your body.

You could feel the damp heat pooling between your legs, and you knew he could too. The friction, even through the fabric, was enough to make your pulse quicken.

Your walls were starting to clenched onto nothing, desperately for some friction.

“What if dad catches us?” You breathed.

“Does your old man have some sort of sixth sense when it comes to catching people?” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear before he nipped lightly.

“Well no…but it’s not like he’s left the stadium entirely,” you tried to grasp onto some logic, though it slipped further away with each ministry from Ken’s fingers.

Ken, however, seemed unphased by the risks. His focus was entirely on you, as he continued to drag out your pleasures and draw out those tortuously slow circles against you.

From where he sat, his head tilted slightly forward, his eyes reflecting his amusement. It was maddening how calm he was while your mind was spinning.

You suddenly felt something poking under you on his lap. Kenji let out a low grunt at the unexpected contact.

You could tell his growing arousal was starting to get uncomfortable, especially with you over his lap. But you didn’t want to continue anything with the position you were in. You were still out in the open.

“Can we go somewhere more private for this?”

Ken glanced up over the bleachers, his eyes narrowing as if calculating all the places they could sneak off to without anyone noticing. His jaws clenched slightly in thought, as you shifted on his lap.

“And where exactly did you have in mind?” His voice was low and deliberate now, as he continued surveying the area.

You shrugged, trying to steady your nerves. “I don’t know…you know this place more than I do.”

Ken hummed softly, still in deep thought as his eyes traced the path around the stadium, searching for a spot that was secluded enough.

His expression was hard to read, but you would feel tension in his posture, his body weighing each option carefully.

A few agonising seconds later, he shifted his hold on you, wrapping one arm under your thighs with ease and carefully scoop you up from his lap. His hold was firm yet gentle, a subtle protectiveness as he rose to his feet.

As he started down the stairs from the nosebleeds, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck before glancing over your shoulder.

The stadium still echoed with distant sounds of lingering crowds celebrating the Giants’ victory. Everyone was too caught up in the post-game festivities to notice the two of you.

“Where are we going again?” you asked in a hushed voice.

He didn’t answer immediately, his pace quickening as he approached a more secluded hallway. He continued towards the locker rooms and maintenance areas.

His eyes darted around, making sure no one was near, before he answered, “You’ll see.”

You could physically feel your heart hammering in your rib cage, the thrill of secrecy swirled with the fear of getting caught.

His hand reached for the doorknob of the supply closet, and with one quick glance over his shoulder, he slipped inside, closing the door with a soft click. He gently set you down on your feet before flickering the light switch.

The room was cramped with shelves lined with cleaning supplies, boxes stacked haphazardly in the corners.

The air felt stale with the lingering scent of detergent in the air, and the light barely filtered through the high windows.

“Seriously?” you looked back at Ken incredulously, brows arched. A wry smile on your lips as you glanced around the tiny room.

Ken chuckled at your expression, amused by the situation you both were in. His broach shoulders brushed against a shelf as he closed the gap between the two of you.

His playful grin softened as his eyes met yours. “Oh don’t give me that look,” he murmured, leaning in closer to you. “At least it’s a lot more private than where we were earlier.”

You sighed softly, knowing he had a point, but there was still a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. Something about the risks made it hard to fully enjoy the moment with Ken.

The room felt smaller with each passing second, the close proximity becoming more intimate. You could still catch the faint sounds of the crowd outside, a reminder that everything was still going on and they were dangerously close.

“Sure…” you murmured cautiously, your eyes darted at the door. “But what if the janitor comes in?”

“Won't happen,” he responded simply, the calm certainty brushed away your worries by a fraction.

He wasted no time to press you against the wall firmly. His taller frame caged you, his arms bracketing either side of your head.

The atmosphere between the two of you was charged with exhilaration, the sounds of your breathing filled your ears.

You met his gaze as his figure loomed over you, casting a shadow that swallowed you whole.

He dipped his head next to your ear with his voice dropping an octave, making you shiver. “Now stop worrying and just relax.”

You knew he was right, there was no point worrying too much and letting your anxiety steal this moment— this rare, stolen slice of time when you could finally be alone with him.

You chewed on your lower lip, your mind torn between the fear of getting caught and the magnetic pull drawing you to him “Just hope dad doesn’t try looking for you—“

He silenced you with a kiss, cutting off your sentence in a way that left no room for argument— literally. The warmth radiating from his body enveloped you, his lips moved against yours with ease.

You could taste the lingering buzz of the game— the post victory high that still surrounded him. The adrenaline was still crackling between the two of you.

You melted into him, your worried momentary fading, replaced by the urge of being close to him. His presence was consuming, making it easier to forget everything outside the small, cramped room.

Your hands found their way to his jersey, gripping onto the fabric. The way his mouth moved against you— soft yet relentless— made it impossible to keep yourself grounded.

After a moment, you pulled back just enough to catch your breath. Your lips were still tingling from the kiss. “Don’t you have a press conference tonight?”

“Relax, you worry wart,” Ken responded, his lips tugging into a teasing smile that you couldn’t resist. “The conference isn't until a few hours, so we have plenty of alone time together.”

His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. Ken always had a way of making your worries seem distant, insignificant, even when you were tucked away in a cramped supply closet.

His presence was always intoxicating— every touch, and eye contact, set your nerves on fire that fell in the pit of your gut.

Without warning, Kenji spun you around so that your back was now pressed against the bare wall. He easily maneuvered your legs apart with his knee, slotting himself in between your thighs with firm and strong movements.

The sudden shift left you stunned, the heat from his body seeped through your skin, clouding your focus and pulling you deeper into the moment.

Every inch of space between the two of you was gone, leaving you hyper aware of his strong hold on your waist.

His grip tightened as you pulled you even closer, your back pressed against his chest. His warmth made it nearly impossible to focus on anything other than his touch.

Your bodies fit together, perfectly aligned. You could feel his hard on pressing against your rear— you stiffened as he grinded himself slowly.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. About you.”

You felt a shiver through your body at the confession. You couldn’t tell if the heat you felt was from his body or the pool in your core.

“Ken…” his name left your lips in a soft gasp, hovering somewhere between urging him on or telling him to keep quiet.

You weren’t sure which one you wanted more, your judgment slowly slipping away like vapor.

His hands found their way to the line of your pants before slowly pulling them down, each second that passed was antagonising.

You heard his own clothes shuffling, amplified in the silence between the two of you, before he leaned you forward, giving him better access to your drenched cunt.

One of your hands was held by the wrist behind your back while the other gripped onto the cold pipe that lined the wall. You felt him roll his hip to rub his hardened dick against your exposed folds, taunting you.

“You know…” he muttered. “I still haven’t gotten a reward for winning the game earlier, I’m still feeling a little unsatisfied after what happened behind the bleachers.”

Before you could retaliate to his comment, the words caught in your throat as he pushed his tip inside. He snickered lowly when he heard your gasp, his touch setting your senses on fire.

He pushed himself further until he finally bottomed up inside of you, your silky walls pulling him eagerly. You felt the suction of your walls as he dragged himself out before slamming his hips against you again.

You tightened your grip on the cold metal pipe above you, desperate for something to anchor yourself. It was getting harder to keep your balance as you felt your knees weaken under the intensity of his movement.

His thrusts started off slow and deliberate, getting accustomed to the feel of you around him. Each delicious friction sent a jolt of bliss through your core.

You bit down on your lower lip, hard enough that your canines pressed into the soft flesh, stifling the sounds threatening to erupt from your throat.

The tension that was coiling inside you was unbearable, and the last thing you wanted was for anyone passing by to hear what was happening behind these walls.

A fleeting hope passed your mind. Please let the hallways be empty right now. Each second became harder to stay quiet.

Ken’s voice cuts through your haze, low and rough. “Don’t hold back now,” he urged. “I wanna hear every sound, baby, let me hear you.”

The last part was punctured by a sharp thrust from his hip. You let out a startled moan when he changed his pace, reaching deeper in a more sporadic rhythm.

A low moan rumbled out from deep within his chest as he kept moving. You could sense that he was already nearing the edge, his breath turning more and more laboured like yours with each pump from his hips.

“Can’t believe I’m the only one that gets to see this,” Ken whispered into your ear, the pride in his voice was unmistakable as he kept milking more moans out of you.

His words echoed in your head, sending a rush of adrenaline through your veins. No one would believe this. The thought of you being caged beneath the star player, cramped in a supply closet, felt thrilling and scandalous.

Yet here you were.

As his touch lingered over you, a sudden realisation dawned on you. With his charm and status, Ken could have anyone he wanted.

He was a star— admired and untouchable in the eyes of the public. And yet, in his private moments, he chose to be with you.

You felt him press further into you, the weight of this lewd secret shared between you both.

You weren’t usually this reckless. With your father being a coach, you had an image to uphold— one of control and discipline.

But something about Ken made you forget about all that. His magnetic presence, his boldness, it all made you fall into his temptations without looking back.

His hand released from your wrist, buried through your hair to tug it upwards with enough force to make you arch into him. Your body instinctively leaned into his pull.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, and for a brief moment, everything faded. His mouth hung slightly open, breath uneven and shallow, his hair falling messily over his forehead— a few locks swished over his forehead as he kept thrusting forward.

“Come for me—” you said between wavering moans. You held your gaze at him, emphasising your words.

You could feel the effect your words had on him as his thrusts became sloppy and his grip on you tightened, afraid that you'd slip away.

Finally, he fell apart as his orgasm washed over him in waves. His release pulsated inside you, your knees buckled from the sheer hell bent force of his cum reaching every crevice.

Your legs twitched as you could feel yourself greedily taking his release. Ken pulled out slowly, but kept his arms firm around you.

The room felt stuffy now, filled with the sound of your shared, laboured breaths. Your grip on the pipe loosened, your arms falling limply to your sides and the tension melted away.

“You okay?” Ken asked in a low tone, almost as if he didn’t want to disturb the peace settling between the two of you.

You turned your body, your chest heaving, your lungs greedily pulling air in. After a few breaths, you swallow to moisturise your dry throat from the breathless moans from earlier.

Finally, you found your voice.

“Yeah…” you replied, your voice a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction. “That was…hot.”

The buzz of the intensity of what just happened still hummed in your bones, lingering like an aftershock, making it hard to fully come down from the high of the moment.

“I guess hiding under the bleachers wasn’t a bad idea then,” Ken’s lips curled into a playful grin. He wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before drawing his lips near your ear. “You handled that so well, I couldn’t stop watching you,”

His praise went through your chest and straight to your heart, with your stomach fluttering. There was something about hearing him say that, in that tone, that felt both flattering and intimate— like a side of Ken he rarely showed.

It made you feel more drawn to him.

“Yeah…it was beyond hot. I still can’t believe we did that.” you leaned into his chest, your fingers tracing circles on his back.

Ken chuckled, his chest rumbled beneath you. “Can’t believe we pulled that off without getting caught.”

You looked back up at him and held his gaze. His eyes reflected the lingering mischief and excitement from earlier. But beneath that, you could see the genuine affection in his expression, something deeper than the thrill of the moment.

You scoffed, flicking his nose playfully before you spoke. “Don’t get too cocky. We still need to get out of here without anyone seeing us.”

Ken grinned, leaning in for one last kiss before releasing his embrace. “Think you can be quiet this time?”

“We’ll see.”

You shifted in your spot, fumbling to put your clothes back on while Ken sorted himself out. Once he gave you the signal that the coast was clear, you stepped out of the closet, side by side, into the brightly lit hallway.

The fluorescent lighting overhead made you squint, snapping you both back into reality.

Just as you felt the relief of safety sinking in, a sudden squeak of shoes echoed on the concrete floor. The sound of footsteps grew louder.

Ken stiffened, his hand immediately finding yours as he quickly pulled you down a different corridor. The adrenaline from earlier spiked again as you both continued to close in to the end of the halls.

He came to a halt just before another turn, his body slightly blocking yours as he peered around the corner. You saw his shoulders relaxed before he gave you a playful nudge. “Let’s not push out luck.”

Without wasting any time, he led you toward a back exit of the stadium. The air outside hit you like a cool breeze of relief, clearing the tightness in your gut.

The contrast between the cramped heated, space and the open air felt freeing. For a moment, the rush of the whole situation, being with Ken in these moments felt so right— like your own private world, hidden from everyone else.

But as you neared the lot, you knew reality was waiting just beyond.

It was close to 11 PM by the time you arrived back home. The house was steeped in a quiet stillness, nothing out of the ordinary. But the atmosphere felt thick and uncomfortable, as if the walls were aware of something you were trying to hide.

The only sign that anyone was awake was the low hum of the TV filtered down the hallway. The faint glow from the screen spilled out from the living room, cutting through the dimness in the house.

Your pulse throbbed in your ear with each step you took and the soft creak of the floorboards amplified in the silence.

As you closed in to the doorway, you spotted your father in the living room. He sat hunched in his usual spot on the couch, still in his coach’s uniform.

The harsh light from the TV illuminated his face, casting shadows that exaggerated the furrow of his brow. His lips were pressed into a hard line— a clear hint that something had pissed off.

He hadn’t acknowledged you, but you knew he was aware of your presence. He never missed a thing. You crossed the room until you were an arms length away from him.

“Finally decided to come home, huh?” His gravelly voice startled you.

You straightened up, adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “Yeah…sorry, I didn’t realise how late it was.” You forced a casual tone.

His face didn’t falter and it was hard to tell what was going through his head at that moment.

“Next time, maybe try and keep an eye on the clock,” he muttered. “Can’t have you wondering in at this hours.”

You fiddled with the strap of your bag again. The soreness between your legs from earlier was still fresh. The memory of your time with Ken still clung to you, making it harder to meet your father’s gaze.

“I know Dad. It won’t happen again,” you spoke quietly.

He grunted in response, eyes never leaving the TV. “You eat yet?”

Your mouth went dry. How were you supposed to answer that? The truth was, you did eat, but it was with Ken after sneaking out of the supply closet— something you definitely couldn’t bring up.

You let out a breath and chose your words carefully. Hopefully he wouldn’t ask you for details.

“Yeah, I grabbed something at a cafe.” You kept your voice steady, hoping he wouldn’t ask for details. “You?”

“Lost my appetite after watching that idiot on TV.” He finally glanced at you, eyes narrowed slightly. “Have you seen Sato’s latest stunt at the press conference?”

You felt goosebumps from the back of your neck at the mention of Ken’s name. Suddenly you were reminded of the dull ache between your legs again.

But what mounted your anxiety was hearing the annoyance in your dad’s voice as he spoke about him.

You fought to keep your expression neutral. “Uhm no, I wasn’t really paying attention. What happened?”

“Same old nonsense,” he growled. “Arrogant, cocky…talking like he owns the damn team. He might be good on the field, but that attitude’s going to cost him.”

The temper was starting to flare in his tone with each word he uttered, and it made your skin crawl. You knew your dad never had the best relationship with Ken, especially with his style of playing.

Your eyes drifted to the screen. Ken’s face filled the TV, his posture relaxed, almost too casual.

You could tell he wasn’t interested in questions being thrown at him, answering the same blasé demeanor that drove your dad crazy.

But you knew better. Ken didn’t care for interviews or reporters probing his life. Was he thinking about you during the press conference, as much as you were thinking about him now?

Your heart raced at the thought. His cockiness, the same confidence you’d seen up close in the cramped supply closet, seemed to shine through even more now.

Had being with you given him that edge?

You quickly pulled your attention back to the conversation, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach, “Yeah…that sounds like him.”

Deep down, despite his cockiness, you always found his confidence a bit attractive. But it often strained his relationships with his teammates, disrupting the team’s unity.

He had so much potential, but part of you wished he could tone it down and find balance. Maybe then, your father would see him in the same light that you did.

“He needs to learn some respect, or someone’s gonna knock some into him.”

You swallowed hard, sensing the growing tension in the room.

“Maybe he’ll figure it out eventually.” You quickly steered the conversation away from Ken before your father picked up on anything. “Anyway, I’m really tired. I think I’ll head to bed.”

He finally turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning your face for a moment longer than necessary. You forced yourself to stand still and lock in, resisting the urge to fiddle with your bag under his scrutiny.

Coach turned to look at you, his eyes boring yours for a while before you were starting to feel an itch to leave the room.

After a long, uncomfortable pause, he let out a grunt and turned to the screen. “Right. Get some rest. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

You were a bit surprised that he dropped the conversation so quickly.

For a moment, you expected him to continue lecturing you about being late, especially since he was already upset when you walked in. But you took this opportunity to leave without another second thought.

“Goodnight Dad,” you left the room briskly.

“Night,” he called back, but by then you were already out of the room, escaping to the safety of your bedroom.

The thought of texting Ken crossed your mind for a moment, but you decided against it. You focused on taking a shower and getting ready for bed instead.

You’d ask him in the morning about the press conference.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @deartulantula @nina-from-317 @luluxx118 @despacito-uwu16

@gyusimp @miguel-ohara-wifey @ichkyu

We’re off to a strong start I think, but can I get a ‘you son of a bitch, I’m down’ (just humour me for a sec 💀) in the comments if we should have more of this Coach’s Daughter AU (CD for short?)

This trope is so cute yet so scandalous and has so much potential

#★— ayrus writes #♦︎— sinful encounters #ultraman #coach’s daughter ☆#ultraman rising #ultraman: rising #kenji x reader #ultraman ken #kenji sato #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x y/n #ken sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato x you #ken sato x y/n #ken sato ultraman #ultraman smut #ultraman fanfic

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sweetdispatch · 2 months ago

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Punish me - L. Hughes

v' bakery pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader summary: Luke decided to punish you after misbehaving the whole day long warning: NSFW, dom!luke, spanking note: the request disappeared from my inbox but it was next on the list! taglist: @bunbunbl0gs

The age difference had never been an issue between you and Luke. You were older than him with a different point of view on life but you two get along with each other very well. It always made you laugh that work was important for both of you and that’s why everything was working great between you two.

Despite the fact that you were the older one, Luke was the one who was dominating your dynamic in a relationship. People around you thought that it's the other way around but that was impossible when he was always towering over you. It was a natural thing between you and you didn’t see a problem in this.

For your friends you two acted normal but behind closed doors, you were totally dependent on Luke. He was always reminding you of everything and always needed to be sure that you’re alright. It was adorable for you that he’s taking care of you. But the biggest dominance was visible in your sex life.

Luke always needed to be on top of you. Even when he let you be on top, he was setting the pace. You were his personal sex doll. He was taking out of you his every frustration and was helping you relax with nonstop overstimulation. You two know each other's bodies perfectly, know how to make the best pleasure and limits. Yours and Luke’ sex life has never been better.

Sometimes, you enjoyed being a brat and seeing how hard you can push Luke to punish you. You feel like it’s refreshing when he’s in total control. He was dominant but he was always making sure you’re alright and fine with whatever he’s doing. Although when you were acting like a brat, he only cared about putting you in your place.

Today was one of those days where you were desperate for this kind of sex. You were misbehaving on purpose just to get his reaction. Luke was sending you looks which meant that you should drop the attitude but you didn’t do anything about it. You wanted his rough side or more like, you needed his rough side.

Whole morning you were ignoring him and his words. Luke knew you and knew that you wanted him to punish you. He didn’t want to let you win and tried to shrug it off but you were unbearable. When he left for training, you accidentally forgot to respond to his text messages and do what he asked you for before he went out.

Luke’s blood was boiling but he knew he needed to keep it calm because you had plans for later. You two were going out for dinner with Jack and girlfriend. You put on purpose the tight, red dress that was always driving him insane. During dinner, you were touching his thigh every time accidentally touching his crotch.

“Behave” Luke whispered into your ear and you giggled.

This didn’t stop you. Thankfully for him, you were just sitting by the table with his brother and girlfriend waiting for the bill. The minute Luke paid, he grabbed your hands and dragged you to the car so you could return home. He didn’t say a word to you, didn’t even spare you a look. You knew that you pushed him enough to get what you wanted.

When you walked into your shared apartment, you started going towards the bedroom to hang out the coat. Before you made another step, you heard Luke.

“Stop right there” You could tell that he’s furious at you. You turned around to face him. “What’s gotten into you and that little stunt today huh? We could have had a nice day but you decided to act like a bitch. Come here” Luke ordered you.

You obeyed and came closer to him. Luke quickly turned you around and bent you over the counter. He pulled over your dress and slipped your panties down. Your ass was bare naked in front of him. His big hand was caressing your ass cheek before the first slap landed.

“I know that you wanted me to break and fuck you roughly. You wanted me to punish you” Another slap landed on your ass. “I’ll give you what you wanted but not how you wanted this. I’ll spank your ass till it’s red. You’ll be begging me to stop but I won’t” Luke said and spanked you again.

His actions were repetitive. You could feel the tears escaping your eyes but you knew you put yourself in this position. You were moaning from the pain and pleasure that Luke was giving you. After a minute, he got a break and was caressing your ass.

“I know this will make you wet and desperate for my cock but that’s all you're gonna get. I won’t fuck you today or for the rest of the week. I need to teach you a lesson. You need to earn my cock in your greedy pussy” Luke whispered into your ear and you froze.

You didn’t predict this. You tried to apologise but Luke laughed at your desperation. He spanked you a couple more times until your ass was red like he promised. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up to face him.

“Next time if you want to act like a brat, remember how it feels” Luke kissed you and left you standing there alone and desperate.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes oneshot #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #new jersey devils #v' bakery

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 2 years ago

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Kidnapped Astarion

I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.

Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)

So now let's get to that angst:

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.

What a mistake that had been.

When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?

Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.

But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.

It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.

He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.

Terror.

And then, he felt nothing at all.

The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.

Cazador.

"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"

Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?

"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."

Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.

He should have realized there was a reason for it.

He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.

"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"

"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.

Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"

It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"

"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."

Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."

He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.

But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."

Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"

It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"

Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?

"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"

No. No, no, no.

"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."

"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."

Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.

Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.

His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"

"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"

"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.

He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.

He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.

His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."

He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."

Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."

Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.

It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.

It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.

He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.

If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.

You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.

So why was he still crying over it?

It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.

But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.

It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.

My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.

He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.

I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.

He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.

Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.

Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.

But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.

And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.

It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.

Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.

He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."

The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?

He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.

It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.

Or so he thought.

But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.

And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.

He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"

He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.

He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."

You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.

Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"

"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"

Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.

"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."

Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."

"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"

"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."

Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"

"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."

"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."

You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."

Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.

Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.

Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...

He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.

And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.

He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.

The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.

He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."

You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.

He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.

Free.

He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.

"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"

"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"

"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."

You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.

But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.

Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.

But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.

As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.

Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?

#astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 cazador #hes such a piece of shit #but I feel like this is something he would totally do #happy ending #but god damn that was rough #angst #a lot of angst #its there #front and center #long fic #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #im feeling spawn astarion man #i started this side blog for the ascended version but...#spawn is bae #female tav

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