#Guys did you know I have PTSD too?!

[promisesystembutcooler]

hey besties it is MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS MONTH (not just Borderline)! I immediately had to make something as soon as I found out about it.

And who else better to draw for this than the man who got belittled and murdered?! He definitely has PTSD no doubt about it.

[alexjcrowley]

Btw I can't believe all the Hamilton edits with Hamilton the musical, especially to Wait for it but when they're done with Carlos

Like girl be fr if someone is his Burr that's not Carlos that's Nico fucking Rosberg, he owned that role

Carlos and Lewis have had beef for a month because Vasseur gave Lewis Carlos's job, you want bitter soul crushing rivalry that's been destroying another guy's life step by step, that's been booked by Britney since day one

[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[sweetnans]

So I imagine a Reader and Bakugo are neighbours and their parents are friends so she’s known him since they were children but he dosent really care— anyways going to the future, reader confessed to Bakugo in middle school however since he dossnt get much attention from girls since they always ignore him he didnt know what to do and just reject her harshly, little did he know he started to develop feelings and it got worse when they both moved to UA💀. To make it worse reader made friends with Izuku lmao,,,

How do you think he would handle the crush thing and treat the reader before and after the war?

Before the war, he would definitely be super distant with Reader. Besides, Bakugo is the kind of guy who doesn't comprehend his feelings very well, so that leads him to suppress them until he explodes. Once he realizes he can't hold them anymore, he starts taking care of Reader in a super subtle way, like he makes sure she's good, she has eaten, that she doesn't strain herself too much on training, that she doesn't have any problem with tests and her assigments but if you think that if she has those problems he would approach her? You're wrong. If she's bad at training, he would send kirishima to train with her saying something very harsh like: "That loser can't fight for shit," and Kirishima would scold at him saying back: "that's not very cool, bro" and he would go and help you. He knows his people, so he knows how to play them.

After war, he realizes that everything can end in a second. After he dies and miraculously revives, he has a new vision of the world. He has a new vision of Deku, of his friends, of his family, and of course you. He needs to make amends.

Everyone is in delicate state after the war, physical injuries, and mental injuries. Every single person he knows is battleling with PTSD including you. After you heard him that he died and the tragic news spread almost as fast as the news of Todoroki taking down his own brother, you felt something breaking inside your chest. Your heart was ripped in two.

You knew that confessing your love to him wasn't very clever of you, and because of his response (or the lack of it), you thought that it'd be easier for you to forget him. You wished your feelings would be gone when you entered UA. But, just because the world hates you, they were still there, and even worse, they intensified.

So when you heard he had died and then revived, you decided to take a leap of faith and let your feelings be.

After the tumultuous end of the war, you haven't seen much of your classmates. Everyone was at home, including you, trying to heal wounds and getting a well-deserved rest.

You were admiring the ceiling of your room when a faint knock on your door snapped you out of your trance.

What you saw was like a mirage. Not even in your craziest dreams would you believe that this would ever happen to you.

"Are you busy or something?" He asks, taking a peak in between the door and the frame.

You are now sitting at the edge of the bed, shaking your head without talking.

"Then what are you waiting for? Come with me, " he huffs like it is the most obvious thing to do.

You two walked together to a nearby park where you used to play with Izuku when you were kids. He guided you to the swings, taking the one on the left, leading you to sit on the right.

The silence is heavy but no awkward.

"Are you feeling okay, now?" You ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," he says in a sigh.

You grab the chains of your swing and play with your feet until you reach some sort of rhythm that keep you swinging.

"I know you're wondering why I brought you here," he imitates you moving at the same tandem.

"I mean, we haven't been here since we were kids...is this some sort of reunion I'm not aware of? Is izuku coming too?" You ask with enthusiasm.

That was the thing with you, after you two kinda fell apart and took differents paths, you stayed with Izuku, you kept being his friend and that boiled Bakugo in a way that, in the past, he didn't understand. But now, everything was different. Now he understands that you needed Izuku and Izuku needed you.

"No. Just you and me, " he says. And he prays that in the near future it could stay like that.

"Oh," it is the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

Again, the silence.

In your skin, you could feel how he was fidgeting and turning every gear in his brain to say something, but Bakugo wasn't good at words.

"Okay, I'm gonna say it anyways," both his feet stop in the ground, doing a screeching sound that has you stopping your swinging too. "I was an asshole. I'm still an asshole I think, but I want to make this right. I apologized to Izuku, now you're next, so you're gonna listen to what I have to say. That day when you said those things to me and I made fun of you? I was wrong because since that day I can't get you out of my mind. I tried to, but I never could. Then everything was shit timing, and I didn't have the time to tell you this, but now, seeing what can happen I'm done fucking everything up. I'm sorry. I know I mistreated you, you didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry I did everything wrong"

The way he said that, like he was verbally puking on the ground, got you breathing like the air was limited. The first thought in your mind when he appeared at your bedroom door was that you were dreaming, and now you needed somebody to actually pinch you because you weren't understanding anything.

"Say something," he partly begs and grunts.

"What can I say? You appeared out of nothing, then dragged me here to say what I've been waiting to hear for like two years, and I've been picturing this in my mind for those years and in every scenario I know what I'm going to say but now I'm completely empty, nothing comes to my mind" you murmur more to yourself than him.

He was stoic. He didn't remember a time when he spoke that much to you, so he felt like it was the first time he had heard your voice in decades.

"In those scenarios, you cursed me?" He asks.

"Oh boy, I cursed you in languages that don't even exist." There's a mixture between a sigh and a laugh that erupts from inside of you, melancholy, you could tell, looking to the sky being the exact opposite of what you feel. Bright and blue, perfectly clear.

"Do you want to do it? I mean, I can take it without spatting back, " he shrugs nonchalantly. You raise both of your brows at him. "What? I can do that!"

"Sure," you say sarcastically. "So, that's it? You came here to say sorry? I accept your apologies"

You were being honest with him. There wasn't any bad blood between you two, and after what happened, you really wished that you two could get along again like old times.

Bakugo felt the same. He still had mixed feelings about you. Everything that happened made him realize how short life can be and how he shouldn't be wasting any more opportunities. He was about to verbalize that when he felt your hand on top of his.

"I hope we can be friends" you say.

Your smile is bright, and your eyes are sincere. And for the first time, he smiles at you, hoping and wondering that you could be more than just friends.

[luveline]

𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you comfort miguel when he lashes out after a memory —a ficlet featuring begrudgingly lovesick miguel and a flirty spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k

cw implied ptsd and accidental rough handling

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Miguel can feel your heart-eyes on him. You're sitting behind him on the floor in his office, or, as you've fondly nick-named it this week, The Control Room, humming and making little origami flowers. 

So far you've made five, promising him without prompting a multi-coloured bouquet. He doesn't know why you've stopped (or why you started), but he doesn't have to turn around to confirm it. He can tell. You're shameless either way, proven when you say, "Hey, handsome?" 

He sighs with more annoyance than he feels. "What?"

"How'd you know I was talking to you?" you ask, with a laugh he loves and hates at once. Loves, because it's a really nice sound, and hates, because he knows how this goes. "I could've been talking to Margo." 

"She is handsome," Lyla chimes in. 

"Very much," you agree. 

Margo, alias Spider-Byte, looks up from her tablet screen to flash a smile. "Thanks, guys." 

"What did you want, then?" Miguel asks.

He's surrounded by girls who live to annoy him —they all laugh as though they know something he doesn't, and when he turns to glare at them they laugh more. Lyla zips out of his eyeline, disappearing from view with a sympathetic, "He's dumber than he looks." 

"Hurtful," Miguel says, turning back to his screen. "Why do I bother?" 

You stand up with your bundle of paper flowers crinkling in your hands and approach him. You're of normal height, while Miguel is of 'ridiculous' height (your word choice), and so you have trouble looking him in the eye when you stand close. You have more trouble keeping your distance, craning your neck all the way up with your rubber capped shoes to his spidersuit ones. 

"Can you lean down a bit, please?" you ask. 

Margo laughs, “Oh, here we go.”

Miguel has trouble saying no to you. And by trouble, he means he finds it impossible, and he hasn't done it in a while. He leans down very slightly, worried you're going to try and kiss him in front of the others. He's kissed you already (which he hates himself for, what a stupid thing to do) (but was a good kiss, as things go, your lips soft under his, his ardency undulating in the face of your little gasping sound when he'd bitten your lip, when he'd grasped at your side like you were slipping through his fingers), and you've kissed him. But never in front of other people.

Which isn't to say they don't know. Everyone definitely knows. They're just too scared or too kind to say. Or, like Lyla or Margo, they find it funny. 

Now in reach, you lift an origami flower to his ear and attempt to prop it there. He has a flash of a memory, a small hand by his face, the summer sun on his neck, and he can't deal with it. He grabs your wrist and pushes it away from him. 

Your eyes widen. You're not unused to his bad moods, but Miguel doesn't grab.

You look back, and he thinks it's because you're scared, and he wishes he could take it back straight away, but you're looking for Margo and Lyla. When you see they aren't there, you take his face into your empty hand and ask, "What's wrong?" 

Miguel doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. Sorry would be a good start, but his mouth is dry. He frowns down at you.

"I didn't mean to overstep," you say, uncharacteristically serious. 

"I didn't mean to grab you," he says. 

"I know. It wasn't so aggressive, anyways. I'm genetically enhanced, you know?" Your smile creases the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. "I'll make you something else. A fan, for the heat, or a jumping frog." 

You turn and take a step away. Again, Miguel reaches for you, but when he takes your wrist this time it's with the kindness you deserve.

"I'm sorry, cariño," he says. 

He’s embarrassed for having pushed you away, even if he couldn’t control himself. All you were trying to do no doubt was make him happy. It's usually your main prerogative besides winding him up, and he can't find any ill will in a paper flower. 

"Cariño," you quote in a murmur. It doesn't take a second for you to return to your smiley, loving self. "That's definitely something nice." 

"It's affectionate." He doesn't explain more than that. 

You force your hand into his, twirling inward like a half-hearted dance. "I can tell," you say giddily, dropping your cheek into his chest. 

He rubs the back of your hand. Sorry, sorry, it says, each pass of his thumb against your skin. 

"Miguel," you say, in the lilting cadence of a girl with a favour to ask, "now you've ragged me around–" 

"Not what happened–" 

"–I was thinking maybe I could do something to you." You smile cheekily around your words. 

He sweeps his gaze across the office to make sure there's no one here with you both, or about to be. Complicated you may be, but Miguel knows you well. Better than he should. He spent a long time denying his feelings for you, aggrieved and guilty, and a longer amount of time resenting you for being so damned enchanting. Which wasn't your fault in reality —you're a weird creature, and you can be a little off-putting; it's Miguel's problem alone that he wants you as badly as he does. To feel your neat, teasing smirk under his lips. To have the line of your jaw against his hand as you whisper flirtation or laugh at your own awful jokes. 

To take your hip into his grasp and squeeze. 

There have been times where Miguel wanted to press you up against a wall and kiss you into silence, quieten your taunting teasing with a bite to match his bark. And there have been times where he wanted to rub the tense line between your shoulders, having caught you in a vulnerable moment, and promise that things will be better. 

He isn't making any more promises, not in this life, but he thinks that someone like you, who tries too hard to make people happy and sometimes wears two masks at once deserves to do whatever it is they want to do to people like him.

"Okay," he says quietly. His voice is rough as hewn stone. 

You have a pocket full of paper stars that crunch as you lean in. "I'm gonna kiss you, if you promise not not to freak out. Is that cool?" 

Okay, you deserve some softness, but Miguel would rather lead. Your hand falls to his chest, and his hands find your face. His fingers behind your ears, his thumbs aligned with your smile, he squeezes your cheeks in his hold gently, tilting your chin up, and up. The column of your throat is bared and begging to be scandalised. He can imagine it, the bruising his lips would leave behind like crescent moons and the pinprick crimson stars from his needling fangs if he were to only press down. 

"We'll compromise. I'll kiss you, and you'll let me apologise again." 

"I don't need you to say sorry again," you say softly. 

"Then I won't say it." 

The implication has heat rising to your cheeks. Your hand grabs uselessly at his suit as you close your eyes, and Miguel knows his cue. He leans down and kisses you, tender but a little rough, your lips soft and warm and eager as he encourages your head to one side. It feels like you try to say something but you don't move back, and so he doesn't either, kissing and kissing and kissing until he's sure he'll remember how it feel tonight, hours from now, when he's staring at a screen wishing you were haunting his office rather than in a doze in the girl's dormitory. 

"Miguel," you say, practically into his mouth. This time he pulls away, and you take a small step back so you don't have to crane your neck. "I, uh…" 

Miguel wipes the sheen from your bottom lip, not not listening but certainly not giving his full attention. He's hoping you'll let him kiss you again.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the flower," you say. 

His eyes lifted to yours. "It's not that. It's not you. Don't waste any time thinking about it, okay?" 

He pinches your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. You hold his eyes for a moment. 

"I don't really think," you say bashfully, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a hug he doesn't have time to reciprocate. 

"You think," he says, blinking as you retreat from him completely, waltzing back to your origami station on the floor. Your hips don't sway, but there's a movement to them he tracks. 

"About you, handsome? All the time." 

Miguel groans and turns back to his screens. Lyla appears silently, and sticks a finger into her mouth in a mock gag. 

"That's in poor taste," he says. 

"I would like to hand in my resignation." 

"You can't resign, Lyla. You're a hologram." 

She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses up her nose and blinks out of view, refusing to speak to Miguel for the rest of the day outside of official Society business, and even then she's cranky. You fill the void of conversation with a mixture of nonsensical and merited suggestions, and by the time you leave for the night, his desk is decorated by a rainbow menagerie of paper animals, each one made with care. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! please consider reblogging if you have the time! <;3 if you have a request of this pairing or other miguel fics and want to share, im eager to see them!

my other miguel fics

[takerfoxx]

Miorine: How DARE you ruin my escape plan! You owe me for this! Take responsibility!

Suletta: Wow, you're cute.

Miorine: SO ARE YOU, BUT I'M STILL MAD!

...

Miorine: Congrats. We're engaged.

Suletta: But I'm a girl!

Miorine: ...yes, and?

...

Miorine: Don't worry, this is just a mutually beneficial arrangement. I'll help you adjust to school life around here, and you keep the other suitors off my back until I dip, then the engagement will be broken and you can do whatever you want.

Suletta: Okay, gucci.

Miorine: ...kind of actually want to gay marry you, though.

Suletta: What?

Miorine: Nothing! Idiot!

...

Miorine: How DARE those cheating assholes arrest Suletta! I'm going to go down there and give my lousy father a piece of my mind!

Feng Jun: You know, we can still take you to Earth. Actually, we can leave right now. No need to bother with all that other stuff.

Miorine: ...

Feng Jun: So, is that a yes?

Miorine: I've decided that I actually want to gay marry that girl. Take me to her!

...

Suletta beats Guel for the second time.

Miorine: I would let her do terrible things to me and thank her for it.

Shaddiq: What?

Miorine: Nothing!

...

Miorine: I will protect that girl, because I am her bride!

Suletta: Oh shit, I actually want to get gay married.

...

Miorine: Our communication SUCKS, but I really do need you and want you to need me too. Do you want to get gay married for real?

Suletta: YES!

...

Suletta makes tomato sauce of that guy.

Suletta: Ms. Miorine, I came to save you!

Miorine: That was the most horrifying thing I've ever seen in my life! I have PTSD now! Kind of hot, though...

Suletta: What?

Miorine: Nothing! Murderer!

...

Miorine: Suletta, I'm breaking up with you, because you're a sap and I'm a bitch. Peace.

Suletta: NO! I WANT TO GET GAY MARRIED!

Miorine: ME TOO, DAMN IT! I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF AND IT'S KILLING ME TO HAVE TO HURT YOU LIKE THIS, BUT I HAVE TO BREAK YOU AWAY FROM THIS HORRIBLE WORLD IF YOU WANT TO HAVE HALF A CHANCE OF LIVING A NORMAL LIFE, EVEN THOUGH I WILL HATE MYSELF EVERY DAY FOR HAVING TO DO THIS TO YOU!

Suletta: ...what.

Miorine: I mean...see yah, loser!

...

Suletta: Ms. Miorine, could you please come out?

Miorine: I'm the lowest of the low. I did terrible things to you and other people. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was only being used, and ended up hurting those closest to me for no reason. I'm a fool.

Suletta: So...do you still wanna get gay married?

Miorine: Yes, please.

...

Miorine headbutts Suletta

Miorine: Don't you dare die on me, idiot! We still need to get gay married!

Suletta: I swear to God, if I had working limbs and we didn't need these suits to survive the vacuum of space, I'd tear them right off of us and ravish you so hard it'll send you past Permet 8 and your dead tomato mom will feel it.

Miorine: What?

Suletta: You heard me.

Miorine: I'm taking that as a promise, then!

...

Suletta: So. We got gay married.

Miorine: Yes, we did.

Eri: Please don't make out sloppy-style again.

Miorine: We're doing it.

Eri: I'm still right here!

Miorine: Cope.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 8

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4674

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.

He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”

Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.

You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.

You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”

“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.

“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”

Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”

Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”

“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”

“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”

“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”

You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.

Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”

“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”

Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.

“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”

“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.

He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.

Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”

Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.

Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.

Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.

“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”

Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.

None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.

Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”

That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.

Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”

You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.

“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”

He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”

“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”

“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”

“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”

Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”

You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”

Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.

You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.

“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”

Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”

“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”

“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”

Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.

You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.

You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.

You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.

“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”

You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”

“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.

You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”

Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”

Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.

Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”

“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”

You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.

“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.

You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”

“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”

“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”

“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."

He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.

“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.

“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”

“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”

You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.

It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.

“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.

Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.

Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.

“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.

“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”

“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”

“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.

“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.

“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”

You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.

Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”

Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”

The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”

Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”

Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”

You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”

Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”

“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.

Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.

With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”

Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.

Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.

“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”

“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 

Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.

Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”

“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.

Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”

“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.

When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.

“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”

Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.

“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”

Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.

Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.

Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.

Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.

“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”

“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”

You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”

He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.

“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”

Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”

You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.

Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”

Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”

Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.

“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.

With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”

But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.

He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”

Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.

You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! -`♡´-

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Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. -`♡´-

[javiscigarette]

Emergency Contact

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Frankie gets in trouble and this is the last time you're helping him. At least that's what you tell yourself.

Warnings: angst, smut, post break up, mentions of drug/alchol use/abuse, military ptsd, frankie on a downward spiral and needs to get his shit together, emotional smut because I had to, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, frankie is literally this emoji -> 🥺 the whole time

w/c: 6.8K

a/n: part of @iamasaddie writing challenge 2.0!!! I picked puppy eyes brown and my genre was angst with the prompt: "Tell me how to fix this." And guys listen. I literally never write angst I’m such a softy but I tried my best with this okay! and I obviously had to include some smut I just couldn't resist hehehe. Also thank u to my baby love @undrthelights for finding theses pics and for everything else you do :) enjoy!

my masterlist

You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain.  But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath. “Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."

The vibrations of your phone buzzing on your nightstand pulls you from a deep slumber, your heart is already pounding at the sudden noise, the rest of your body slow and sluggish as you try to gain your bearings. 

You paw for your phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen when you find it. A call from a number you don't recognize. You debate letting it go to voicemail but the area code is local and that makes you pick up, a raspy Hello? leaving your mouth as you roll over in bed, glancing at the clock. 

2:13 am.

The sound of your name crackles down the line, the immediately recognizable voice causing your heart to plummet to your ass.  

"Frankie?" You ask, sleep quickly leaving you as tension takes its place.

"...Yeah, sorry, I…I didn't know who else to call." His voice is frail and pinched.

You don't have to ask him what's wrong, your brain already piecing the puzzle together You've been in this exact position before. The anger is already starting to creep in, your brow furrowed and stomach twisting as a familiar rage blooms in your chest.

"You couldn't have called anyone else?"

You know the answer is no. The rest of the boys are on a mission, leaving him behind after he failed on his promise to stay clean for long enough to get cleared to go. And now, you’ve fallen victim to that decision too,being the only person left to call whenever he finds himself without a leg to stand on. Frankie in trouble, you bailing him out. Just like normal. 

"I'm sorry I didn't want to bother you I just..." he takes a deep breath and sighs. "I'm at the station on Oak street. Can you maybe... pick me up?"

You close your eyes and take a moment to compose yourself and reign in the anger at the way he's gotten under your skin already.

"What did you do this time, Frankie?"

He's quiet for a second before he finally says, "DUI. And um, slightly resisting arrest? It’s uh, it’s my first one and I didn’t blow too high so they’re letting me go as long as I show up for court in a few days."

His voice is soft but you can hear him fighting back emotion, his voice cracking and straining under the pressure. the sound eliciting sympathy you desperately wish you didn't feel.

"Jesus, Frankie," you sigh, defeated already.

It shouldn't even faze you at this point. It should be expected given the path he's fallen down since his return home from their last mission 3 months ago. The Frankie you knew before he left had been a steady force. Protective, headstrong but soft in his demeanor, so sweet and full of love. The man now standing in his shoes still holds some traits of that Frankie, but they've all been scarred and tainted with his fall from grace.

Memories of the nights spent tucked in his bed, his arms around you, his hands buried in your hair come flooding back like they usually do. The sound of his laugh, the feel of the downy hairs on his forearm pressed against your skin and the steady thrum of his pulse under his jaw as you placed kisses against his neck. The words you would speak softly to one another in the early hours of the morning, secrets only shared with each other under the protection of black velvet night sky. 

All of it traded for bitter resentment and anger towards a version of the man that was ripped away from you.

When he was gone, you’d sleep in his shirts and on his pillow, clinging to the faded scent of his cologne as your brain conjured up ghost touches from his fingertips. Dreaming of the day that he'd come home, how he might touch you, and kiss you, the taste of his lips and the feel of his skin on yours. A reunion so deeply desired that the day after he returned was a sharp double edged sword - a blessing, and a curse. The Frankie that walked back in your life was broken, smothered with the weight of the innocent lives on his hands. 

Warmth and tenderness traded for stony silence. Nights now spent at the bar, warming himself up with vodka instead of your embrace. Fights ending in harsh words and raised voices as he stubbornly dug his heels in deep, too ashamed to admit he needed help. Staying out late with no warning and coming back at dawn smelling of smoke, weed, and liquor. You are always wondering where he went, who he was with, if he was safe, or if he’d found someone else to soothe the pain. 

Then the coke. An old habit that was kicked to the curb in his earlier years now back with a vengeance. Your ultimatum quickly following.

This or you.

A choice you prayed he'd be strong enough to make, but was clearly not.

And now here you are. Two months since you walked away, trying to convince yourself it was for the best. The majority of the last two months of his life is a mystery to you, which you've accepted is probably for the better. 

"I know," he finally replies. "I'm so sorry baby, you know I..."

You can almost hear the way his jaw snaps shut, three words catching on his tongue. You don't need to ask to know what the next words are. Tonight was not the first time he's tried to use them in a vain attempt to patch up a crack in the foundation of your crumbling relationship.

There’s nothing but silence on the line as a war wages within you. Part of you wants to believe that he’s the selfish, careless man that he’s recently proven himself to be. But your heart whispers in your ear a softer notion. He's scared. Fragile. Battered. Embarrassed. Alone.

With a heavy sigh, you run your hand down your face in a feeble attempt to wipe away some of the grogginess clinging to you.

"I'll be there in 20," you say.

There's a pause before he speaks, "Really?"

Always an air of disbelief.

"Yes. But this is the last time I'm doing this Frankie, I mean it,"

"I know, I... thank you."

You don't bother to reply, simply hanging up the phone as the heaviness of this final gesture sets in. The gravity of the situation, of the line you're about to cross, already threatening to consume you.

This will, without a shadow of a doubt, be the last time you show up to save Frankie’s ass. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself. Just like you told yourself the last time this happened and the time before that. But this time will be different. You'll set new boundaries. That's it, just ride this storm one final time and be done.

You know it’s a lie, one you desperately want to believe it.

___

He’s standing outside the doors of the small station, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, wisps of smoke rising and dissipating in the still night air. He looks up as he hears the engine of your car approaching, the red glow of his cigarette temporarily highlighting the deep frown on his lips as he takes one last drag before he flicks the butt aside and heads your way.

The anxiety radiating off of him is tangible as he drops into the passenger's seat, gently shutting the door and peering at you with wide puppy dog eyes full of shame. You don't look at him, focusing on backing out of the parking spot before pulling onto the road.

He picks at the skin around his thumb and bounces his leg, his jaw tight. You wonder how long he’s been at the station. How long he’s been sober. You’re still not sure if he entirely is right now.

Most of the ride is silent save for the hum of your engine and the clicks of your turn signal. His eyes never leave you, he can feel him boring a hole in your profile, trying to catch your eye as you watch the road.

"What?" you finally snap.

"Nothing, just...I was wondering if I could stay with you tonight. I can sleep on the couch, I…I don’t really want to be alone right now" he speaks so softly it makes your stomach lurch.

"Absolutely not."

"Please? I'll leave early in the morning, by the time you wake up I'll be long gone."

The rage is back, glowing red hot in your chest, fingernails digging into the leather of the steering wheel, your knuckles white and tense. How fucking dare he ask. 

"Absolutely. Fucking. Not," your grit your teeth with each word, biting off the end of the sentence with a sharp finality.

"Right. Okay."

Silence takes over once again, your heart slamming against your chest, heat crawling up your neck as your cheeks grow red and damp. No. No. Absolutely fucking not. Absolutely not.

Frankie leans his head back against the headrest and rolls it to the side to watch you again. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him, hear him sniffling, his eyes, big and glassy, pleading when you glance over at him. 

It would be a lie to tell yourself that your “plan” isn't already halfway out the window as your jaw clenches and your gaze ping pongs between the road ahead and the man beside you. Deep in the darkness of your soul you know that with Frankie is where your comfort lies. It’s tucked in the space between his ribs, squished alongside his heart and lungs, running the length of his spine and settling between each vertebrae. You worry you may never be able to completely dislodge it, unsure if it would ever fit anywhere else in any other person.

Maybe it would be easier if Frankie didn't fill up the cracks in your heart with the fractured parts of his. If he didn't take up room in your brain that's not his to own, if he didn’t crawl under your skin and take root into your DNA. Now every cell in your body knows what it feels like to be next to him, now programmed to cry out for his presence when he isn’t near.

And it’s no different now. He’s here, looking so pathetic it’s almost laughable, staring at you with tears sliding down his cheeks that glisten in the glow of the headlights passing you by. Crying over something that’s entirely his fault. You should be the one crying right now. Not him. 

So you do. 

Hot angry tears spilling over your lash line. Though you can’t decide who you’re more upset with. The man who drank himself out of your life, or yourself for falling for him once again in spite of it all. Either way, it’s not enough to convince yourself to stay firm in your decision. 

Fucking pathetic. Both of you. 

“You’re out first thing in the morning and then I’m done Frankie. I fucking mean it this time, we can't keep doing this to each other."

“Okay. I promise baby, I will. First thing, I promise." He replies quietly. 

Your hand flinches with the urge to reach over and slap him for calling you baby. But instead, you clench your jaw and you shake your head at him.

"Don’t call me that, Frankie."

He quickly nods his head in understanding, his eyes again facing forward as he wipes away the wetness from his cheeks, watching the road the rest of the way to your house. 

—

Neither of you move once the car is parked in your driveway. The silence is heavy, cut only by the tick of the engine slowly cooling once you remove the keys from the ignition. You chance a look at him and find him picking at his thumb once more, his face red, his eyes soft and timid when they meet yours. 

“Tell me what happened, Frankie?” 

You ask even though you don’t really want to know. 

Frankie sucks in a breath and scrubs a hand down his face. 

"I got into a fight at the bar, got kicked out, made the dumb fucking decision to try and drive home and...now I'm here," he laughs mirthlessly as he waves his hands as a vague gesture to you, your house, his current situation. You can't tell if he's telling you the whole story, his answer simple and devoid of context. The context you’re sure wouldn't be good for you to know. 

“You could’ve killed someone, Frankie. yourself included,” you say after a few beats, your voice comes out sharp, frustration bleeding in each syllable.

He slowly nods as huffs out a breath.

"I know... it was stupid, and I was an idiot I...shit I was really careless and not thinking straight I’m sorry. I'm really sorry I-"

"I mean seriously Frankie,” you snap, cutting him off. “Do you ever, I mean ever, think about anyone but yourself? Or has it genuinely never crossed your mind that your shit might possibly affect the people around you?"

Frankie opens his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he's about to respond. You don’t give him a chance to. 

"How many more times are you going to take advantage of me, make me look like a fucking dumbass always showing up to rescue you? Why am I always the one covering for you, taking your crap, cleaning up your messes, only to have you throw it right back in my fucking face, every single time!"

Your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, chest heaving with each word that flies from your mouth. Two months worth of bitterness bubbling up from deep down, spilling over and cascading down your face in the form of frustrated tears.

"When did you become so fucking selfish, Francisco?!"

Hearing his full name fall from your lips spurs Frankie on, the last of his shards of resolve flying away as his walls come down.

"I don't fucking know okay?! I don't fucking know!" You flinch at the rise in his voice and his tone stings. But it's how quickly he follows up with a softer, feeble excuse that adds fuel to the fire, "I'm doing the best I can."

That does it for you. Hot searing molten rage pulses under the skin of your face, the tips of your ears hot with blood.

"Doing the best you can? The best you fucking can, Frankie? Fucking bullshit! Getting into bar fights, spending all your money on booze and blow, losing your fucking pilot license because you were too coked up to see straight? Was losing your driver's license just putting your best foot forward? Throwing your whole life away just because you refuse to get clean? Is that really the best you can do?"

You pause and swallow, giving Frankie a second to take it all in, letting him process the onslaught of scalding truths you've thrown at him, before you quietly continue,

"I can't keep doing this, Frankie. I just can't."

He sniffs and shakes his head in what appears to be defeat, his gaze fixed on his hands folded in his lap. 

“I know...fuck. I know I’ve fucked up alright? I know that. I just don't know how to fix this," he admits quietly, his wide eyes watching you helplessly. “Tell me how. Tell me how I can fix this. Please."

You bark out a laugh, sarcastic and cynical.

"Are you serious right now? What do you mean you don’t know what to do? How many times did I help you try to find a therapist, try to get you into a program? How many times did I suggest AA? Don't fucking tell me you don't know what to do because you do."

He nods, shifting around in the seat, sniffling yet again as he looks back at you. "Okay, okay. I get it, okay? But what can I do right now? To fix this at least for tonight?"

You sigh, deep and heavy, your entire body now just exhausted. You half wish he would put up more of a fight, call you a bitch, snap back at you for going off on him. Maybe it’d make it easier for you to let him go. But instead, he looks at you with desperate eyes and you can feel your resolve crumbling once again. 

"Just forget it, Frankie.”

But he won’t give up that easily. The man is persistent, you’ll give him that. 

"I'm serious. Tell me what I need to do right now to fix this. What can I do to show you how sorry I am?"

You stare back at him, jaw clenched, biting back the next words you were about to speak. They die on the edge of your tongue. You know the answer is.

Not a single damn thing.

"Look, I'll try harder, I fucking promise alright?” His tone becomes more frantic as your silence stretches on. “I’ll fucking try harder, please just...please," Frankie pleads, more tears welling in his eyes.

Your throat is tight, your head spinning and aching as your blood roars in your ears. He's already taken enough, stealing more would simply be the end of you. Giving in now would mean you've swallowed the bait, falling hook line and sinker into his trap, stepping back onto the slippery slope you've fought so hard to escape. And for what? More heartache, more bullshit excuses, more fighting, more pain?

But one glance into his wide-eyed, watery gaze and you know he's got you. Again. Faster than you can tell your mind no, your heart, foolish and hopeful, speaks for you instead.

"Lets just get some sleep, okay? It's late. We can...we can figure it out tomorrow."

"Thank you," he whispers immediately, relief coming off of him in waves. "I really mean it, I-thank you, I promise I’ll—“

“Can we not talk anymore Frankie? I just wanna go to sleep."

"Yeah. I'm sorry, let’s go."

There's nothing left to say, washing over the two of you as you make your way inside. You give him a towel and dig up some of his old clothes that live in the back of your closet from when he was here almost every night. You're back in bed before he’s done with his shower, tucked underneath the covers with your face pressed against your pillow, the silk fabric soaking up your tears of sadness and frustration.

The water shuts off and you can hear him getting settled in the living room. A pillow being fluffed, the creak of the couch when he sits. 

And then soft footsteps on the hardwood 5 minutes later, padding their way into your room.

He doesn’t knock. He doesn’t bother speaking either. He just simply creaks open the door and walks over to the other side of the bed, peeling back the covers before slipping into bed beside you. 

You should scream at him, yell at him. Tell him to get the fuck out, fight him tooth and nail to prevent him from worming his way back into your heart, to avoid anymore pain. 

But then he’s against you, his chest flush against your back, legs tangling together under the blankets. He slips an arm around your waist, the other underneath you, pulling you against him tighter as he nuzzles into your neck, burying his face into your hair and takes a deep breath.

“Just one more night" he whispers. "Please. Just let me have one more night."

You don’t have any fight left in you. Because at the end of the day, a night spent wrapped up in his arms, inhaling his scent, touching his skin and his beating heart is worth a thousand fights. And a million shattered dreams.

You don’t answer him, but you don’t tell him to leave either. Instead, you block out any looming thoughts, the impending worry of where this could go, or how bad the damage will be. For now, you chose to focus on the rise and fall of Frankie's breath against your skin, the way you fit so perfectly into his arms. 

One more night.

Frankie presses a kiss into the back of your neck, repeating his previous sentiment in a rough scratchy whisper, "Just one more."

And you listen to it resonate, bouncing around the walls in your head and tickling the space behind your eardrums.

Inhale

Exhale.

You should want to fight.

But instead, your body melts his, molding your bones and flesh against his, fitting into all the creases and gaps that have been carved out and reserved just for you.Trying to forget, to bury this pain as deep as possible,. Just for tonight. 

He waits a few more minutes, waiting until your breathing levels out with his before he makes his next move. His fingers trace mindless patterns on the skin of your stomach, goosebumps erupting under his fingertips, rippling outwards like a rock being tossed in a pond. He leans in once more, slowly dragging his nose up the length of your neck and curling his lip to press another kiss behind your ear. Then another.

And then another, this time lingering as he sucks softly on your skin.

Inhale.

You close your eyes, hoping for anything but this, yet feeling the sting of arousal spark below your skin.

And exhale. 

You’re better than this. You won’t stoop down to his level, you won’t let him chew you up and spit you out again.

But fuck, his lips are soft and warm, so is the breath as he exhales against your neck, lightly swiping his tongue and soothing the faint red mark he left behind with a small little hum.

“Frankie..." You warn, albeit much more breathless and weak than you would have liked. 

“Tell me to stop and I will," he murmurs, his beard gently grazing your sensitive skin, causing your toes to curl.

You take another deep breath, but this one is shaky, as you can't help but tighten your grip around his hand, squeezing his fingers as you lean your neck to the side, exposing more of your soft skin to him.

Dead in his trap. Caught so fucking easily. Pathetic.

But if his teeth and lips and tongue and soft, gentle touches are how you go down, then so fucking be it.

He hums his appreciation against your skin, scraping his teeth down to your shoulder, latching his mouth on a spot and sucking harder. Strong, callused fingers continue exploring, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, waiting for you to give him permission.

He rolls his hips forward against your ass and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper at how hard he is against you, his soft grunts in your ear traveling straight between your legs and fanning the flames building.

Then suddenly, he's sliding his hand up your shirt, squeezing your waist and traipsing over your chest until he’s cradling the weight of your breast in his palm, his thumb slowly brushing over your peaked nipple, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to moan out loud.

A small gasp escapes you instead, your fingernails digging into the back of his hand. 

"Frankie."

This time not a warning. It’s a plea. A desperate, burning want that you should be ashamed of. 

He murmurs into the shell of your ear then, his tone is deep and scratchy. 

“I miss you...I need you, baby. Just tell me to stop if you want. But I... fuck I miss you so much."

You don't tell him to stop.

You roll your hips back instinctively, a warm wave of arousal washing over you at the feeling Frankie's hardened length pressed firmly against your ass. He grunts in satisfaction as his palm slides from your chest and up your throat to your jaw. His grip is gentle as he turns your head to face him, his lips against yours without missing a beat. 

It’s too easy to fall right back into him, back into the practiced, very well rehearsed routine. To let him glide his tongue along the seam of your lips and coax them open so he can lick into your mouth, getting the taste of his tongue stuck behind your teeth. Too easy to let him remind you just how easily you fit in the palm of his hand, how tightly you’re wound around his finger. 

He kisses you fervently, desperately almost, lips and tongue moving against yours as though he’s trying to devour you whole, just like he used to. He’s been starving for too long.But right now, he's finally found nourishment, the feeling of your body under his hands and the taste of you on his tongue feeding his soul. Wanting more. Always more, entirely unable to help himself.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he murmurs, his mouth half a centimeter away from yours. “Let me make you feel good baby, please.”

As if you could say no.

As if you even wanted to.

He pushes his leg between yours, thick, firm muscle under warm skin pressing against your clothed core and you answer him with a roll of your hips, seeking out any sort of friction you can. 

It takes less than half a second for him to have you flipped over on your back. When Frankie truly wants something, he does it quickly and efficiently.

He moves above you, licking and kissing a trail down your neck. He makes his way down your body, greedily nipping at the skin stretched over your collarbones. He swirls his tongue over each nipple, only moving on when he’s satisfied. He presses wet, open mouthed kisses to your ribs and your tummy just above your navel, his beard tickling skin, making it twitch under his mouth. 

Your body is cooperating far more than it should, your hips lifting up instinctually when he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, your thighs automatically parting further, and your hands migrating to his head. Your fingers tangle in his soft curl, your nails softly scratching his scalp just like you know he likes. 

And when his tongue drags up your thigh you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop the reactive moan. But your back arches with pleasure anyway, the last bit of your resolve evaporating into thin air as you give into him freely.  

His hands burn hot where they smooth over your skin, a comforting weight and a familiar drag of calloused palms fueling the fire and tightening the coil in your stomach. 

“Missed you so much,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your pussy before you feel the first stroke of his flat tongue up through your center.

This time, you're not strong enough to hold back the breathless mewl that leaves your mouth. You immediately push down on his head while simultaneously canting your hips upward, needing more friction, dying for more of everything he's willing to offer. He slides his arms underneath you and hooks his hand over your hip bones, holding you down and keeping you in place as he tries to find salvation between your thighs.

Heavy breaths through his nose as he uses his mouth, lips and tongue working in tandem to take you apart. Lapping and sucking at your clit while his fingertips nudge at your entrance, dipping just enough to tease, waiting until he hears the high pitched whimpers that he's after.

And when you've reached that level of desperation he wants from you, whimpering and panting, he slowly dips a finger in.

He moans along with you as though he's the one experiencing the pleasure. He's always gotten off on this almost just as much as you. The warm, slick slide of his fingers in and out of you, how you gush on his tongue, your thighs trembling on either side of his head, the tingle of his scalp when you tug on his hair.

More addictive than any substance he's ever found solace in.

And against your better knowledge, you're more than happy to indulge him, let him chase the high you give him and let yourself drown in it as well.

Your back arches off the bed as he adds another finger, grunting into you and thrusting faster as you tighten and flutter around them. He finds the spot he's looking for with practiced ease, whimpering into you and groaning along with you as he drags his fingers back and forth along the spot that has you bucking your hips into his hand. 

He knows how to get you there. Knows how to do it fast. And right now, that's what he wants. He's craved it too long, spent far too many nights with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock your name on the tip of his tongue as he fucked up into his own hand. He wants to hear you fall apart again, feel you coming on his tongue, your walls clenching as they try to suck his fingers in deeper. Wantsto know that he hasn't ruined absolutely everything between the two of you.

"Come on baby, lemme feel you,” he urges, voice deep and rough as he brings you to the edge. His mouth, licking and sucking at your clit, works in perfect rhythm with his fingers, sliding in and out, crooking them at the exact angle and speed he knows will get you there. 

"Please, Frankie...need to– fuck, I'm..." Coherent words evade you as he works you towards your peak, your breath stuttering as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. Your grip tightens in his hair, tugging roughly in an effort to ground yourself as the wave of euphoria starts to crest, the undercurrent pulling you down. 

Frankie growls in approval as you tighten around his fingers, all your muscles tensing as the sensation crashes into you. Your mind and body shut off and float into that sweet state of oblivion as Frankie's name falls from your lips, mixed in with a litany of profanity and slurs and choked back moans. He doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down until you're yanking on his hair hard enough for it to hurt, trying to wiggle away from his touch.

Frankie raises his head up and locks eyes with you, the tip of his nose, beard, and cheeks shiny with your arousal as he looks up at you through his dark, heavy lidded lashes.

"Want you so bad," he sighs, breathless and needy, crawling up your body and resting his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. He kisses you again, soft and sweet as if he has the right, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

You whimper into the kiss and hook a leg over his hip to pull his hips towards you. His cock strains almost painfully in his boxers when he grinds it against you, your warm arousal dampening the front of the fabric.

"Gonna let me baby?" He rasps when he moves to your neck, his teeth scraping sensitive flesh.

You both already know he's won. You're not even putting up a fight at this point, any dignity you thought you had left totally abandoned the moment you picked up the phone. But he asks anyway, needing the verbal affirmation, needing the confirmation that you want him as badly as he needs you.

And you can't lie.You're both equally weak and vulnerable. Two pathetic, heartbroken creatures chasing a temporary relief. A small glimmer of something to make the pain more bearable, something to fill the hole for the briefest amount of time.

You both know. And neither of you care.

No response to his question. Instead, you push up the hem of his shirt up and he does the rest, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor before he hooks a thumb underneath the waistband of his boxers and tugs them down his hips and off his legs.

Your hand finds his cock and he hisses at the contact, his hips shuddering as he pushes forward into your grip. You swear he's thicker and longer than before, heavier and hotter where you hold him. Your thumb brushes over the tip, spreading the pearls of pre cum around, coating the rest of his length to ease your glide. Frankie's mouth finds your neck again, tongue and lips tasting and teasing, his shaky breath in your ear.

You try to push up onto your elbows in an effort to roll him over, wanting to take over. But a palm finds your chest, gently pushing you back down until your flat against the bed again. 

"Wanna look at you," he says simply, as he pushes his length into the palm of your hand once more before sliding out. 

He lets his length rest against your sensitive clit and gently rocks his hips, slicking himself with the mess between your legs, sighing whenever you gasp each time his tip nudges at your clit.

"Please..." you whisper, feeling pathetic and needy, but at this point too desperate to care.

And he’s equally impatient, not waiting another moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing in. 

You tense at the initial intrusion, not having been with anyone in far too long and the feeling is almost overwhelming. You're trying to remember how to breathe again as you let your head fall to the side, trying to hide from his intense stare. But Frankie's there, using a gentle finger to tilt your face back up towards him as his hips moving at an agonizingly slow pace to let you adjust.

"That's it baby. Look at me."

And you do, the heat in your belly burning brighter with his eyes boring into yours as he witnesses your surrender to him. Your heart aches, still raw and tender and in pain from all the hurt that's transpired. But you ignore it and tell yourself the tears in your eyes aren't a result of a broken heart, but rather of how full you feel as Frankie's length finally bottoms out in you.

"Fuck..." You both curse under your breath as he stills for a moment, letting you adjust before he starts to move his hips. You cling to his broad shoulders as he pulls out of you, his eyes glued to where you’re joined, his thick cock slick and shiny with your arousal before he slides back in again with a quiet groan. He repeats the motions over and over watching as he pulls out almost completely before pushing back in, stuffing you to the hilt.

"Shit,” he hisses under his breath, his eyelashes fluttering when you clench in response. “You feel so good baby, fuck."

He buries his face into your neck, panting and pressing soft kisses as his pace starts to speed up. The soft grunts in your ear turn into more desperate moans when you lock your legs around his waist, pulling him, trying to get him even deeper than he already is. 

Your fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, holding on for dear life, hoping that you’ll leave half crescent moon shapes embedded into his flesh. A painful reminder for the morning that you were here and this was real, despite the circumstances.

His hands slide under your ass, angling it upwards to let him hit just that little bit deeper inside, pushing the air from your lungs with each thrust. The muscles in his forearms flex and strain as he tries to hold back, always making sure you finish before he does. 

And he doesn't have to wait much longer. Your orgasm is creeping up and taking over your body and Frankie can sense it. He knows exactly what to look for, knows all the signs.

One hand moves to reach between the two of you two fingertips pressed against your pulsing clit, drawing fast, tight circles just like you like it. Your grip on his shoulder tightens, your nails digging into the skin and dragging down his back as his thrusts become more erratic. 

"Keep lookin' at me," he grunts and you struggle to keep your eyes open. They sting, the image of him above you starting to blur around the edges as he drives you closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, baby. Lemme see it, lemme see you come on my cock."

He doesn't have to tell you twice.

You come undone again just like that, dizziness spreading and heart hammering in your chest as you sob out, pleasure consuming you from within. He fucks you through it, not giving you a chance to catch your breath, as he curses and rambles in your ear about how he's missed this, how he's missed you.

You've barely started to come down when he grabs one of your legs behind your knee and pushes it into your chest, letting himself sink even deeper into you. The new angle has your head spinning, drowning in an unparalleled amount of pleasure. Your eyes flutter and roll back in your head as you whimper his name, fingers curling into the pillow above your head.

He doesn't last much longer, breathless moans and strangled whimpers into your neck as he gives you the last few sloppy thrusts. He's almost there, and when he tries to pull out, it's the way your leg tightens around his waste and your needy whine that sends him over the edge, groaning and cursing with his face in the crook of your neck as he spills himself into you.

His cock pulses inside you with every wave, his hips chasing his release, tiny jerks as he empties into you. He stills, his heavy breathing in your ear, his weight resting on you, heavy but grounding, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

Once the room stops spinning and the stars clear from behind your eyes, you drop your legs. With a shaky sigh, Frankie starts to pull out, both of you groaning in protest as he slips out.

His cum leaks out of you, quickly pooling between your thighs no matter how hard you squeeze your legs together. And when he catches sight of it, it makes your face burn. At the mere sight of his sticky, warm release spilling out of you, mixing with your own, Frankie swears he could go another round right then. Something about knowing he marked his territory, his claim on you established once again. He looks up at you, your eyes closed, forehead creased, and he has to dig his nails into his palm to keep from dragging his fingers through the cum leaking out of you and pushing it back in, keeping it where it should be. 

But the weight of reality is starting to press on him once again, the fear and shame from earlier taking root again and tugging at his stomach and pulling him out of the euphoria.

He kisses your hip bone once before making his way to the bathroom for a wet washcloth. The room is silent as he cleans you up, wiping gently between your legs, both of you keeping your eyes on anything except each other's. 

When he's done, he stands and moves to gather his clothes off the floor, tugging his boxers back on before heading towards the door. But your shaky, watery voice breaks the silence and freezes him where he stands.

"You're leaving?" You ask, voice squeaking at the end as you pull the sheet up to cover yourself, as if it would protect your heart when he ultimately breaks it again.

He turns to look at you, his heart aching in his chest from the innocent way you're looking at him. The way your eyebrows draw together, and your lips pull into a frown, the way your lower lip trembles as your eyes fill with tears.

"Can I stay?"

His voice is quiet, fragile, as if speaking any louder would scare you off, would cause you to start yelling at him again until you ultimately kick him to the curb for good.

He stares at you through the darkness of the room as you chew on your lip and try to grapple with the split decision you’re facing.

The logical part of your brain is screaming at you to say no and end this right here and now. But that part of your brain is buried and silenced underneath the heaviness in your heart. That desperate need to hang onto whatever's left. You swallow the lump in your throat and give in.

"Please," you plead softly. "Don't...don't want to be alone anymore."

A rush of air leaves his lungs as the pressure is released from his chest as he climbs back into bed beside you. Your head finds his chest, curled into his side and letting his arms wrap around you. His embrace is familiar, comforting, your safe space.

You count the steady beats of his heart in your ear as his blunt fingernail scrape lightly up and down your back, knowing it always soothes you. No words are spoken but the air between the two of you is thick, full of the things you both want to say, but neither of you speak.

Sleep wraps its tendrils around you once again, exhaustion settling in your bones. You welcome it fully, even though you know when you wake up, you'll have to face the reality of the situation once again.

You can only hope that he'll still be here in the morning to face it with you.

For now, you let yourself drown in the warmth of his embrace, pushing away all the other things that are gnawing at you and letting yourself relax in the arms of the man who broke your heart.

Just one more night.

Thank you for reading!! :))

[theemporium]

can i request 💜 "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know." with luke hughes please!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."

.

In a sport like hockey, you got used to being called a variety of different names for a variety of stupid reasons. 

Some made sense. Some had a funny backstory. Some were born from an embarrassing memory you could never escape. Some had no real correlation but it was used once and it stuck and now the whole team used it. It was just one of the dynamics of hockey that you got used to pretty early on. 

And the thing was that Luke didn’t hate his name. He didn’t, it would have broken his parents heart if he said as much. It just wasn’t exactly like he was ecstatic for people to throw ‘Luke Warren Hughes’ at him. Or at least, he didn’t like it when his middle name was brought into the locker room. 

Maybe it was PTSD from the teasing he got when he was in middle school. Maybe it was the fact it sounded a little like it belonged to a sixty year old man. Or maybe it was because he was so damn used to being known as ‘Luke Hughes’ or ‘the other Hughes’, that he sometimes forgot he had a middle name.

Whatever the reason was, Luke never liked it being used in the locker room by the boys. He didn’t really like the name being used, full stop. Unless it was one of his parents using it. He thought he managed to avoid it for years until he joined the New Jersey Devils and met the team—met you.

Because, for some fucking reason that was beyond his own understanding, every rule and belief Luke had went flying out the window when it came to you. 

Including the use of his middle name.

“God, Warren, couldn’t even use a comb this morning?” 

Luke felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to find you wandering into the locker room. Most of the team were already out on the ice, but Luke was one of the stragglers that was still getting his gear on. It wasn’t his fault the team decided team pictures needed to be taken at an ungodly hour before practice. 

“Does it look that bad?” Luke questioned, trying to ignore the pleasant twist in his stomach when you flashed him a smile and made your way over to him.

“I think it looks cute,” you replied, lip tucked between your teeth as you reached out to gently run your fingers through his curls. “Curtis might give you some shit though.”

“Curtis always gives me shit,” he mumbled, letting his eyes flutter shut as your nails gently scraped along his scalp. 

“Hm, well tell him to come talk to me if he gives you a hard time for your curls,” you said, and even with his eyes closed, he could hear the smile in your voice. 

His cheeks burned as he tilted his head back to look at you, his own smile mirroring yours. “Gonna be my knight in shining armour?” 

“M’always gonna have your back, Warren,” you replied, your voice a little softer. A little more genuine. 

He swallowed. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” 

Your smile widened. “Oh, I know. Jack told me you once got into a fight during a game back in middle school after some guy on the other team used it.”

He groaned a little at the memory. “Quinn and Jack gave me so much shit after that. They called me Warren for a week after that.” 

You snorted. “What did you do?”

“I told on them,” he admitted, a little sheepish. “They got grounded for a week.” 

You laughed and his smile widened at the sound.

“So how come you let me use it?” You asked, something else in your voice that Luke couldn’t quite name but it still made his heart speed up a little.

“I guess I like you more than them.” It was meant to come out light-hearted and teasing, but it felt far too heavy and suggestive once the words left his mouth.

“Enough to grab something to eat after practice?” You asked, so casual and calm like you couldn’t see the way Luke’s whole face was burning a pretty shade of red. 

“More than enough,” he said with a nod, unable to fight the grin off his face when you smiled back.

“Then better get your pretty ass out there before the boys make you do drills after practice for being late,” you teased, laughing as you watched him quickly shove on the rest of his gear before rushing out the door.

.

[yelenasdiary]

WandaNat yelling at each other over their last mission and reader having a ptsd episode (sudden loud noises, combat or abusive ex?)? Maybe reader goes black out for a few hours and wakes up in the forest outside the compound and WandaNat are trying to find her? Super angst to fluff? If thats okay 🤧

Notice Me

Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Reader

Summary: When your girlfriends get into a heated argument, it triggers an episode for you, leaving the women to find you alone in the woods by the compound. 

Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of an Abusive Ex, Hints of Domestic Violence, | 1.3K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: Thank you for sending this, I hope I did okay! Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with the mentioned topics. Enjoy! x

The back-and-forth yelling coming from the hall only seemed to get louder as your girlfriends, Wanda, and Natasha, had just returned from a mission. You were reading a book, completely relaxed, and enjoying the quietness to read when you heard the familiar voices. Wanda opened the door to the shared bedroom, Natasha following close behind her. You looked up from your book and smiled softly at the women, but they didn't seem to have even noticed you laying on the bed in one of Nat's sweaters. 

"What should I have done huh?" Wanda snapped, throwing her coat over the office chair by the desk. 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe wait for your team?!" Natasha argued, "Wands, you have powers that others don't have but that doesn't mean you get to put yourself in a life-or-death situation!" The red head added. Wanda rolled her eyes, "do you really want to talk about life-or-death situations? Because you seem to throw yourself into the line of fire at the first chance you get!" Wanda rose her voice. 

"I'm trained to do so!" Natasha argued back, tossing her bag to the floor. The loud thud of her bag hitting the floor made you jump; she didn't care for her weapons that were inside. 

"Guys" you tried to interrupt before things escalated but it was too late. Wanda's eyes flashed with red chaos before she used her magic to slam the door closed, another loud thud that only drew you closer to an episode. "Guys, please!" You begged over their yelling voices but still, it was like you weren't even there.

The arguing continued until eventually, you couldn't take it anymore. Their tones got stronger, the slamming of things down got louder until everything went black as you left the room. 

----

"Wands, have you seen Y/n?" Nat asked when Wanda came out of the bathroom in her comfortable clothing and her hair wrapped in a towel. Wanda shook her head, "I haven't seen her, not even when we got back but then again th-"

"Please don't start now" Natasha sighed, "Nobody has seen Y/n since lunch when she said she was going to come here and wait for us" she added, her tone of voice full of worry. Wanda looked to the bed and saw your opened book on the bed and your empty plate from lunch on the bedside table. She used her magic to take her back to the argument she had hours before with Natasha, "oh god" she spoke under her breath. 

"What?" Natasha asked, "what is it?" 

"We're selfish idiots, that's what! Get your coat, we have to find her" she replied.

Natasha grabbed her coat and met Wanda downstairs. Wanda could see the amount of worry and concern on Natasha's face, she took a moment to give her partner some comfort. "Nat, we'll find her and it'll be okay" she assures the widow but all this is a little too close to home for Nat. 

"I can't lose her" Natasha broke.

"I know darling, we'll find her" Wanda wiped the rolling tear that Natasha had let go.

Wanda asked some of the others to join the search to find you, you didn't take your phone and Natasha noticed you left without your shoes on. Wanda tried her best to use her magic to find you, but something was blocking your mind from allowing her to do so. 

Everybody broke up into small groups of two. Tony and Bruce started by car, driving around the surrounding neighborhood and closest stores. Steve and Thor searched the compound and surrounding areas while Natasha and Wanda searched the woods close by. It was only getting darker by the minute; the cold air began to get cold which only made every bodies worry and concern for your well-being even stronger. 

"Wands! Over here" Natasha called out when she noticed footprints in the softened dirt. Wanda rushed to Nat's side, "this way, come on" Nat added. The two called out your name over and over as they walked deeper and deeper into the darkness of the woods. 

"Nat, maybe we call Steve and get him to fly the jet over" Wanda suggested but Natasha shook her head, "the loudness will only make things worse" she reminded Wanda. 

As the two tried their best to keep track of your footprints in the dirty, they heard the loud crunches of leaves up ahead. Natasha signaled to Wanda to pause their movements in-case it was a wild animal but instead, it was you. Stumbling out of the trees only for Natasha to catch you in her arms as you fell. 

"Y/n! are you okay?" Natasha asked, brushing your hair from your face. Wanda rushed quickly to your side as Nat handed you to her before taking off her coat and instantly covering you in it to warm you up. "E-everything….it….y-ou" you stuttered, "shh, it's okay darling. You're safe now" Wanda pulled you closer to her, placing a kiss on the top of your head as your sobs became clear. 

Wanda used her powers to levitate you back to the compound, not wanting to keep you out in the cold any longer. When Natasha got to your shared room, the two of them forgot about their argument and ran you a warm bath, they bathed you and helped you into your favorite pjs because making sure you were comfortable in bed. 

"Detka, what happened?" Natasha asked in a soft tone. You looked over at her, your eyes filled with tears and mind filled with worry that you might have angered your girlfriends. "It's okay love, you talk to us" Wanda chipped in. 

You took a moment to gather your feelings before you spoke, "You guys didn't even notice I was in here, you both came in yelling and slamming doors and when I tried to get between it, you both just didn't seem to notice me. I hid under the covers to try and drown out the yelling but some of the things you both said to one another just triggered me…" you explained with a pause, "everything just went back after Wanda said 'you know better' in that tone you had" you added, looking over at Wanda. 

Natasha took you into her arms, "I'm so sorry detka, we promise never to let this happen again" she spoke, her hand rubbing up and down on your back. Wanda couldn't shake the terror in your eyes when she held you in the woods, she was quickly reminded of the fear you once had with your ex whom the women saved you from, she never, ever wanted to make you feel like that again. 

"How about I fix us some hot coco and we watch whatever movie you like?" Wanda suggested, wanting to light the mood and help you forget about this afternoon. You looked up at Wanda and nodded, "can I please have double whipped cream?" You asked. Both of your girlfriends chuckled at your request, "is that even a question?" Wanda smiled before leaning over and pecking a soft kiss on your cheek, "anything you want darling" she whispered. 

When Wanda came back with the three mugs of hot coco, the three of you curled up in bed and watched your favorite movie of all time. You were in the middle, Natasha to your left and Wanda to your right, both of them resting their heads on your shoulder. It wasn't long until you started to feel okay once again and the fear from their argument faded away as you drifted off to sleep before the end credits rolled on the screen. Wanda tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead before Natasha did the same. 

"Date night tomorrow? I think we could with some time away from work" Wanda whispered, "I couldn't agree more!" Natasha smiled before the two shared a kiss.

Taglist: @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @angel68104 | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @caporal-nino | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | 

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[redroses07]

Just Friends // Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

WC:1.7k

Summary: Stiles is struggling after being controlled by the Nogitsune, and he turns to you for help. But little does he know, it will turn your friendship into so much more. Takes place after season 3. (Allison isn't dead!!!)

Warnings: Swearing, angsty as fuck, sad Stiles, kissing, implied smut if you squint?, PTSD.

A/N: HI GUYS!!! I really like this fic and ofc I hope y'all will too! This is my first time writing about Stiles and I think I did pretty well! As always, enjoy!! And comments and reblogs are appreciated. P.S. lmk if y'all want me to do a part 2 where they tell their friends (Scott's reaction hee hee) - Claire ♡

After Stiles was released from the control of the Nogitsune, things seemed to go back to normal. Well, at least that’s what one would think from the outside.

The series of events had taken a severe toll on Stiles’s mental health, and even though he did a good job of hiding it, you were the one person who seemed to know what he needed.

It all started about a week after everything happened, it was the middle of the night and you were jolted awake by the sound of your phone buzzing by your head.

You were about to hit decline but then you saw it was Stiles and feelings of worry began to stir within you.

You quickly answered, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you forced yourself awake.

"Stiles, is everything okay?"

"Yeah...well not really. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive over to my house. I just really don't want to be alone right now." Stiles's voice was groggy, and laced with exhaustion. The fact alone that he was asking you this made you immediately agree.

You hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas, slipped on your slippers, and you were on your way.

Your house wasn't far from Stiles's, about a five minute drive with no traffic.

You lived directly in the middle of him and Scott, being only a short distance from each. The close proximity was the main reason the three of you had stayed so close throughout your school years.

"Friends", that's all you and Stiles had ever been. Although, neither of you could deny the chemistry between the two of you, risking your friendship never seemed worth it.

It was on this night that all that would begin to change.

When you arrived at Stiles's house, he had left the door unlocked for you so you wouldn't have to fumble around with the spare key in the dark.

You found Stiles laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked lost in thought, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. It hurt seeing him look so drastically different from the Stiles you knew, and you wanted to do whatever you could to help.

You laid down next to him, your body facing his.

"Hey..." Stiles began, still staring at the ceiling.

"Stiles, what's going on? You know you can trust me with anything right?"

"Yeah...It's just a lot to put into words." Stiles's voice cracked, which told you that he was fighting tears.

You sat up and stiles copied the movement. You were now both facing each other, sitting legs crossed on his bed. You pushed aside the unspoken vow between the two of you and placed his hands in yours. Stiles's breath hitched, and you could tell he was avoiding eye contact with you.

"Take all the time you need, I'll listen to every word." you said softly.

"I know everyone thinks I'm doing okay, but I can't even function. I can't sleep without having nightmares. I can't eat or do anything without remembering all the awful stuff he made me do. I didn't know who else to tell except you. Scott has his own set of issues, and you're the only person I trust like this."

Stiles began to ramble, and your heart broke as he did. How had you not noticed earlier? Yes, it had only been a week, but you knew Stiles better than anyone. You felt like an awful best friend.

"I'm so tired, I just want to feel normal again." He could no longer hold back the tears, the dam broke and Stiles became a sobbing mess.

You pulled him into your arms with no hesitation, which only made Stiles want to cry.

"No, no I'm going to get your clothes all wet." Stiles protested trying to pull away, but you wouldn't let him.

"A few tears never hurt anyone." You said.

At that Stiles let himself fall into you, his body going limp with exhaustion. You tried not to cry along with him, wiping your burning eyes to prevent the tears.

"It'll be okay." You whispered as Stiles's sobs turned into sniffles. He finally looked up, his cheeks wet from the tears that had escaped his puffy eyes.

You did the only thing you could think of and gave him two kisses, one peck on each cheek. Stiles lips turned up in a small smile, his cheeks still turning red despite his current state.

"I think the first thing we need to do is get you to bed." You smiled, pushing Stiles's messy hair back.

He looks at you and nods without moving from your arms. You lean back on his bed, pulling him with you. You positioned yourself to where Stiles was resting on top of your body, his head pressed to your chest. You kept your arms wrapped around him, squeezing his body in an attempt to comfort him.

As you were settling down you heard Stiles whisper your name softly.

"Yeah?"

"Promise you'll wake me up if I'm having a nightmare?"

"I promise." You replied as you reached down and laced your fingers with his.

Stiles gave you a half-hearted smile in response, his puffy eyes glazed over from fatigue.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured, fighting sleep.

"Shhh." Was your only response as you traced your fingers along his back.

"I love you." It was an incoherent whisper, so much that you couldn't be sure of his words. But something told you you had heard correctly.

By the time you went to reciprocate the statement, the room was filled with Stiles's muffled snores.

You sighed and proceeded to fall asleep yourself.

Stiles slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

After that the trajectory of your relationship began to shift.

From holding Stiles's hand to remind him that everything was okay when you were with your friends, to staying up all night listening to him talk.

You rarely got to sleep at home anymore, but you didn't mind. You weren't far if you needed something, and it helped Stiles get a good night's sleep. Yet he would still apologize every time. "I'm sorry to bother you again.", "I promise this is the last time.", when in reality you were definitely okay with an excuse to spend more time with him.

You had become his anchor to reality, and Stiles could feel things beginning to look up with every day that passed.

Your friends picked up on it too.

"So, are you and Stiles together, or..." Lydia and Allison asked when they managed to corner you at your locker one day. It was a question you didn't know how to answer. Eventually landing on, 'it's complicated.'

"What's going on with you and Stiles, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel when we're together." It was a joke, but there was certainly some truth behind it.

You laughed it off and changed the subject, but didn't forget the comment that night when you and Stiles laid in each other's arms drifting off to sleep.

Surprisingly, it wasn't you who finally brought it up, but Stiles.

It was a Friday night, and the two of you were at your house instead of his.

"Shit, I forgot clothes to change into." Stiles said as he fumbled through his backpack.

"It's all good, I have a spare pair of clothes in my drawer for you." You replied, pointing to the dresser.

Stiles smiled and laughed, holding eye contact with you for perhaps a moment too long.

"You take care of so much for me, sometimes I feel like you're my wife." It was a casual statement, but it put you at a loss for words.

You laughed awkwardly, failing to come up with a reply.

Stiles could very clearly read your emotions, he pushed the drawer shut and walked back over to sit next to you.

You tried to calm yourself, but your heart wouldn't stop beating at what felt like an unhealthy pace.

"You're my best friend..." Stiles began, taking your clammy hands in his.

"You've done so much for me in the past few weeks, just like a best friend should; but I can't help thinking that this feels like something more."

You felt as if the world stopped. You knew this conversation would come, but definitely not now. Your brain seemed to stop producing thoughts.

"Please tell me I'm not imagining all of this. I know this is a lot at once, but Y/N I love you." Stiles's voice shook from the overwhelming nerves.

"I love you too." You spoke for the first time in minutes, it felt amazing after you had heard it fall from his lips that first night you spent together.

Stiles's eyes gazed into yours, and suddenly the feeling of just your hands touching wasn't enough.

You reached over and grabbed Stiles face, finally closing the gap between the two of you.

You pulled Stiles down as you did, his body landing on top of you sinking into the kiss.

You tugged on his hair lightly, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Stiles fell deeper into the kiss, locking your hands together and pressing your body further into the soft mattress.

After a few minutes of pure bliss you broke apart. The air that filled your lungs was both a blessing and a curse. You needed to breathe, but the absence of his touch only made you want him more.

Stiles hovered over you, the sound of his heavy breathing was the only thing you could hear over your own beating heart.

"So I take it you're not just my best friend anymore?" Stiles giggled, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

"Nope."

You gave a sly smile before pulling Stiles down by his shirt and connecting your lips once more.

[owliellder]

My Superstar

post RE4! Leon Kennedy x afab Musician! Reader

MDNI 18+

Description: Leon was a fan of you. It was a well kept secret, how much he enjoyed your music and watching you perform. A little bit of lying can get a man a long way.

Warnings: Not proofread, Porn w/ lots of plot, Unprotected p in v (stay safe), some minimal stalkerish behavior, vague mention of a PTSD-induced panic (it's very short), awkwardness

Tags: Strangers to lovers, post RE4! Leon, Dom! Leon, Sub! Reader, this can be considered slow burn (?), multiple instances of masturbation cause Leon is touch starved, praise kink, handjob, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, nipple play, inappropriate use of mama, grinding, cowgirl position, Leon manhandling the reader a bit, this man cannot keep his hands off of you!!

Word Count: 11k

Cross posted onto Ao3

Note: Spent days working on this. DAYS!! It's crazy that I can sit here at work all night, multiple nights in a row, and write smut.

Anyways, thank you for reading

ψ(｀∇´)ψ!

Leon Kennedy was one of the government's best agents; fighting horrors beyond the general public's comprehension like it was nothing at this point. He was only 28, yet he was rugged, stoic, and damn near emotionless. Every agent he's ever interacted with knew next to nothing about him. Outside of work, this man was an absolute enigma.

He stayed in a comfortable one bedroom, one bathroom apartment that was provided by the government. It was practically barren due to his line of work. What was the point of having anything if you're never there to enjoy it?

On the rare occasion Leon had more than a few weeks of quiet, he strictly kept to himself; declining invitations to go out and drink with his fellow agents, ordering in whenever he decided he was hungry, and even flat out ignoring anyone who approached him when he was performing his more domestic duties, like grocery shopping.

The blond had manners, sure, but he didn't want to entertain anyone's idea of him, especially the women. He was approached in that way often due to his muscular appearance and mysterious atmosphere. It was a bit of a pain for him to deal with. He just wanted to be left alone during his highly valued time away from agent work.

Leon looks and acts like the type of guy to just be a stick in the mud. He rarely ever indulged the other agents in his personal affects.

One evening while stuck doing paperwork from his last mission, the blond was dragged into a nearby conversation when one of the agents asked about his music taste. More specifically, if he preferred one music artist over another. All he did was shrug and said he didn't know the names, which stunned everyone involved in the conversation. When asked about not knowing two very popular artists, he even went so far as to say: "I don't listen to music."

Little did everyone know that Leon Kennedy was a filthy, dirty liar.

He listened to music, oh he did. This seasoned agent, who fought actual hellspawn, was a fan of you.

Actually, fan would be an understatement. He was a super fan.

Leon discovered your music a year ago while in a drunken stupor after he'd come back from Spain. He was in an incredibly tough spot mentally, physically too, and he just needed something to help with the constant feeling of dread clouding his thoughts. Amidst his drinking spree, he caught a glimpse of you when scrolling through TV channels.

The agent paused for a long moment before switching the channel back, his body lagging behind his brain. He was very wary at first, seeing as he really wasn't a music guy, but something about your voice drew him in further. Of course Leon blamed it on the massive amount of alcohol he'd drank, dismissing the tickling in his stomach with a shake of his head as he switched to a different channel.

From there, it spiraled.

Everywhere he went, he heard bits and pieces of you; the grocery store, in a car passing by that had its windows rolled down, even from the other agents occasionally when he got stuck doing paperwork late into the night. You were slowly taking over his thoughts, and though he seemed calm and collected on the outside, it was driving him insane.

Leon didn't understand why you were able to mess with him like this. It was so unfair. He'd managed to keep his personal life the way he wanted it, the one thing he had control over, and now he owned all of your CD's and even a t-shirt for god's sake...

He indulged himself in everything that was you; the way you smiled in the few music videos you had, the nervous habits you had when he was able to watch your interviews, old and new, and even the way you dressed. It had him almost browsing similar clothes at the store, his gaze lingering for just a moment too long as he wondered if you'd like something like that.

The whole thing made Leon feel gross, perverted even, especially when you crept into his thoughts late at night. Turning down other women's advances meant he never really got any action, never really feeling the need to touch himself either, so he found himself a little more pent up than he originally thought he'd be. The smallest of thoughts about you had him straining against his pants at work.

Yes, embarrassingly, he'd masturbated to the thought of you. Multiple times at this point. He felt terrible, but what you didn't know couldn't hurt you, right? He could live with the shame.

The agent made sure not a soul knew about his growing obsession for you and your sound, that much he could control.

Despite feeling incredibly emasculated, you did well by him. He didn't drink as much as he used to and he spent just a little more time each day off making his apartment cozier, though that's not the craziest part. That title belongs to the fact that whenever you were brought up at work, he rather subtly joined in on conversations willingly. He acted uninterested, didn't even add to the conversation really, but it was an opportunity for him to learn about you that he wasn't going to pass up.

From that, Leon learned that you were doing a concert in this city next month! That seemingly insignificant bit of information that was casually mentioned by one of the other agents nearly knocked the fucking wind out of him.

"Yeah, they're going to be in town for a week or something." One agent spoke up, shrugging before he tilted his disposable coffee cup towards their slips to take a small sip. Leon managed to collect himself internally to reply, clearing his throat quietly beforehand. "This isn't a big city. What're they doing here?"

In an attempt to seem casual, he rested his left arm rested on the back of a chair as he held his own cup of coffee in his right hand, taking a sip from it.

"Dunno." The agent responded simply, shrugging a bit. The topic quickly shifted after that, leaving Leon to mull over the simple tidbit he'd learned.

The next few weeks were grueling for the blond, feeling as if time was purposefully slowing down on him. His anticipation was growing by the minute.

He had managed to finagle himself a backstage pass along with a VIP ticket the second he made it home to his personal computer after that conversation with his coworkers, thank you special government access. The printed ticket and pass taunted him from where it sat propped up against the bottom of the computer monitor.

Leon kept the ticket and pass somewhere he would remember them, somewhere they couldn't get lost when he had to rush to work in a haste, which was a common occurrence for the agent.

The last week of the month was when you were going to be in town for your concert. Thursday, to be specific. It was relatively easy for Leon to play off his absence at work, having called out sick for the entire week so no one would suspect anything. Honestly, everyone was more concerned since he never got sick and even on the rare occasion he was, he never called out.

It made Leon feel just slightly guilty when a few of his fellow agents decided to send him get well cards... he'll worry about that later.

Every day until Thursday decided to roll around, Leon was practically vibrating in his apartment. He was so worried he would somehow miss the concert, so he decided to occupy himself by scrubbing the damn place top-to-bottom. It helped him release that ever-building tension he was accruing as he oh so patiently waited.

Wednesday night, he couldn't sleep, the anticipation of this one single event made it hard for him to sleep ever since he learned about it. But with the promise of seeing you tomorrow, he was actually trembling in his bed.

The man had tried his best to control his urges regarding you, but tonight was really getting to him. Just to relax, he thought, it can't hurt. A common thought in his mind.

Leon lost track of time and spent over 2 hours edging himself, the adrenaline from knowing he'd get to see you in person, be in the same building as you, had him biting down on his knuckles as he roughly fisted his cock. He at least still had the dignity to keep himself quiet, mostly not wanting his neighbors to hear how needy he was. He also didn't want your name to accidentally slip out of his mouth.

God, the things you did to him. All he had to do was simply imagine you were the one stroking his cock and he was gone, pathetically whimpering into his hand. You didn't even know he existed, but hopefully you would after that concert. He wished he could show you how much he appreciated you one day soon.

After the agent came with your name on the tip of his tongue, he decided to give up on sleep. He was wide awake, now needing a shower after making a sizable mess all on his hand, exposed abs, and the blankets that had bunched up near his groin.

Only 10 minutes later, he came again, this time in the shower.

Leon checked himself over numerous times during the hours leading up to your concert; dressing in a shirt a size too small to show off his muscles, spritzing himself with just the right amount of a cologne that he totally didn't buy because you said you liked those certain perfume and cologne notes once before, even going so far as to make sure not a single strand of hair on his head was out of place.

The anxiety got to him and, of course, he left almost 5 hours early to stand in line at the stadium you'd be performing at. He found himself felt awkward standing by himself in line, almost second guessing his decision to even be here. Almost.

Once the employees at the stadium started checking tickets and leading people inside, the blond began to tremble with anticipation. This once stoic, cold man was now reduced to nothing more than a nervous fangirl, his lips pulled tight as his ticket and pass were checked and he was lead through a set of double doors. Despite all his years living and working in this area, Leon had never been inside this place. Hell, he didn't even know there was a stadium here.

The VIP ticket granted him one of the best spots in his opinion. He wasn't right up against the stage, but he was close enough to where he'd be in the crowd that got to interact with you personally.

Once again, Leon was feeling awkward as he sat stiffly next to people he didn't know. Hopefully he can grow a pair quick so he doesn't make an absolute fool of himself in front of you.

The crowd waited for a good 30 minutes or so, probably to give everyone enough time to settle, before the lights dimmed, causing everyone to cheer loudly. The man tapped his fingers against his muscular thigh anxiously, attempting to get his breathing under control.

He did not like being crowded like this, but he had to put up with it for just a couple hours in order to see your entire concert. He could handle that...

No he couldn't.

Only a few minutes after you entered the stage, everything got to him fast. The screaming, the lack of any form of personal space, and his climbing body temperature caused him to flee as casually as physically possible. Leon never considered that he wouldn't be able to handle such a loud and crowded environment.

He pushed his way forward, flashing his backstage pass to one of the security guards standing in front of the temporary fencing put up. They moved the fence slightly to let him through, to which he speed-walked his way towards the bathrooms, following the signs that led the way.

Thankfully the bathroom was empty since the concert had just started. The man chose to go into the family bathroom since it the door had a lock and he didn't want anyone walking in on him while he calmed himself.

For fucks sake, he can do this! He knows he can, he has to. He bought the damn ticket and pass, he needed to see you.

After giving himself awhile to calm down, Leon eventually walked out of the bathroom, ready to go back in and claim his seat once more. The sound of music echoed through the large hallway that surrounded the area you were performing, causing his nerves to spike again for just a brief moment.

He took a deep breath and walked over to another security guard that stood by the set of doors he walked out of previously, using his pass once more to get back in since it led through the fenced off area.

The second the blond walked through, he froze, his eyes landing on you up on the stage. Your voice was so clear now, the way you moved and sang with a smile causing the corners of his lips to peak up slightly.

He just couldn't keep his eyes off of you, making his walk back to his seat incredibly drawn out. Seeing you at every angle possible at the moment was making his heart flutter, and shamefully, his dick twitch. He was grateful anything below his torso was obstructed by everyone jumping and dancing around him.

The lyrics to your songs resonated with Leon like nothing before, your proximity making it feel like you were singing directly to him. For him.

The concert lasted a little longer than either you or Leon had anticipated due to a random technical issue with the mic you were wearing.

It was funny to you, the slight and very short lasting hiccup caused you to joke with one of your bandmates, your hushed voice and laugh being picked up by their mic. God, Leon could listen to your laugh for hours.

Regardless of any mistake, your concert was nothing less than perfect to the man. To him, you could do no wrong, that much was clear by the way he zeroed in on you and you alone for the entire duration of the performance.

After thanking the audience with a grin and a wave, you exited the stage with your bandmates and retreated backstage to shed that post-concert adrenaline. All those eyes watching you? Yeah, that'll always be nerve-wracking, no matter how many times you do it.

You settled next to your drummer on a particularly uncomfortable couch, your guitar sitting propped up on a stand not too far away. The downtime after a concert was always very appreciated, considering you lacked any sort of energy after the adrenaline finally wore off. Your voice had grown hoarse, throat now sore, and ears ringing from the volume of the music earlier.

You wanted to have a chance to collect yourself properly before you met up with anyone that had a backstage pass, which was normally reserved for people actually working the event. You liked to keep it easy for you and everyone involved, which meant you only ever green-lit a very small number of them to be sold to the general public.

As much as you loved your fans, you wanted to keep your after-concert relaxing at a maximum. This kind of life was stressful, as fun as it was. You didn't want to come at your fans' throats because you were too exhausted to answer questions. The last thing you wanted was to get mad at people who were just excited to meet you.

Luckily for you, it doesn't seem very many people were able to acquire a backstage pass. Most were left to event workers, it seemed. A few stragglers had made it backstage with the help of security to get a picture and have you and your bandmates sign a poster or a shirt.

One final man wandered backstage an hour after the concert had ended, one you didn't notice as your exhaustion was really presenting at this point. Your bassist was the first to notice Leon, righting themselves from their spot leaning against the wall to greet him with a handshake.

The drummer and keyboardist followed suit, slowly leading the agent over to where you now sat on the floor, back against the couch since it had grown too uncomfortable for you.

You were nudged by your bassist, causing you to grumble and open your eyes to look up at whoever decided to rouse you. Catching sight of Leon prompted you to quickly stumble upwards onto your feet.

Smiling awkwardly, you reached your hand out to shake his hand, which he gladly accepted with a tender smile of his own.

"Leon." he stated simply, his eyes lidded as he looked into yours. "Very happy to finally meet you and your band."

This man was fucking gorgeous and he had the voice of a pornstar. Maybe he was a pornstar? Who knows, you weren't one to judge, especially not someone who's looking at you like that.

You introduced yourself, rather breathlessly as you'd stood yourself up too fast. "I'm sorry, we're all a little gross from the show.." you laughed out nervously, pulling your hand back from him to wipe against your shirt after realizing how sticky from sweat you were.

Leon laughed a low laugh with you, his eyes quickly raking over your figure before making their way back up to yours. "It's no problem, I'd be a little confused if you weren't gross after that performance. It was amazing, by the way."

He followed you and your bandmates over to a circular table sitting near the corner of the room, accepting a seat after everyone sat down and gestured for him to do the same. The blond really wanted to talk to you alone, but getting to talk to you at all was a feat in his books right now, and getting to sit across from you was more than enough.

"Thank you, Leon. We're very happy you enjoyed the show." Your drummer spoke, giving Leon a quick smile. Everyone else agreed, including you with a quiet, tired chuckle.

Leon was surprisingly good at hiding his hard on, but your hoarse voice and tired, disheveled look had his thoughts leading a less than innocent path. It was hard for him to focus on anyone else.

The agent asked general, boring questions that the band was asked almost every time they encountered a fan, though he was a lot more casual about it.

He kept giving you these looks that you couldn't quite describe. It almost seemed like he was eyeballing you for a reason. You were used to getting a bit more attention since you were the main face of the band, but wow he was really giving you some questionable looks. Not that you minded, of course. Hell, you started giving him your own coy glances here and there.

After about 10 minutes of general chatter, Leon began to single you out in questions; asking about your guitar, how you come up with your lyrics, and how you learned to sing, all the while staring at you with those half-lidded eyes of his.

You answered as best as you could, taking note of a smirk tugging at his lips. He'd noticed you blushing, his low tone and staring effecting you in your tired state.

You couldn't quite place it, and as cliche as it was, he seemed different to you. Leon wasn't like most of the other fans you'd met over the years, he seemed so nonchalant about everything.

This type of behavior was obvious when it came from younger fans. You and your band mates have dealt with a fair share of teenage crushes, but having a grown man display the same kind of mannerisms was strange. Not in a bad way, though.

In your defense, it was a bit refreshing to know you were desirable in that sense. You'd grown so busy with music that you just haven't worked to put yourself out there. Plus, there's always that inkling that anyone who would try their hand at you was just out for the money and fame, not to mention that handling a relationship with the spotlight always watching is really difficult. It can wear on it.

As everyone stood up from the table, your bandmates shook Leon's hand and said their thank you's again before beginning to make their way to a door where a couple security guards stood ready to lead them out to the tour bus. You waved them on before walking over to grab your guitar from the stand it was on.

"You're not gonna go with them?" Leon asked quietly, watching you from where he stood next to the table. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb as your bandmates walked out, his eyebrows furrowed slightly with confusion.

"Oh, I just have to put this away before I follow them out..." You yawned, grabbing the guitar case that wasn't too far away from you before sitting yourself on the floor, opening the case up. You began to examine the guitar for any damage that went unnoticed during the concert.

Leon nodded and moseyed over to you, standing a couple feet away before leaning over just a bit to watch you as you looked over your guitar, giving a small smile once more.

"You know," he started, voice almost a rumble as he spoke. His eyebrows raised as he turned his focus down a little further to look at you. "...you really were the star of the show."

You placed the guitar in it's case before looking up at him, having tilting your head upwards since he was currently towering over you. You smiled, huffing out a laugh through your nose. "Please, I wouldn't sound very good if it wasn't for my band.."

Leon clicked his tongue, bending over a little more to get closer to you. He was looking at you with those same half-lidded eyes from before, his voice lowering to a hushed tone. "I'm being serious. All I could focus on was you. And that voice of yours? Wow.."

He was now giving you a bit more of a serious look, though he still had the faintest smile. Your face relaxed with his words, smile widening ever so slightly. He spent the time to gauge your reaction before continuing to speak, moving next to you before crouching down.

"I know I'm just a fan, but I'd really like to see you again sometime." Leon turned his head away from you to look down at the floor, fiddling with his fingers nervously after resting his arms on his knees.

Now it was his turn to blush, his sudden proximity to you bringing out a more bashful side to him. He hadn't felt this way in years, so he wasn't quite sure how to act.

You followed him with your head as he crouched next to you, never moving your gaze away from him. Normally you'd never let a fan get this close to you for so long, but Leon didn't give off any sort of threatening energy. If anything, he just seemed like a nervous kid asking his crush to hold his hand during school. It was endearing having such a well-built, handsome man acting this way for you.

You averted your gaze for just a moment to zip up the guitar case before quickly looking back at the blond sitting next to you. "Do you have a pen?"

His eyes shot up from his lap to meet yours, his eyebrows raised up again. "What?" he asked, his voice a little too loud before he caught himself with a wipe of his palm across his lips. "Sorry- what did you say?" He must've been zoned out after admitting to wanting to see you again.

"Do you have a pen? Or a sharpie?" You repeated yourself with a gentle tone, eyes crinkling with your smile as he looked over at you. "Oh! Oh, yeah.. yeah yeah, I do.." He muttered, quickly standing up so he could dig through his pockets with both his hands. After a few seconds he pulled out a pen, clicking it a couple times before holding out the pen to you.

You nodded with a giggle, gently taking the pen from him. You grabbed his hand and flipped it so his palm was facing up, drawing a couple quick circles on your own arm to make sure the pen worked before carefully scribbling your number out onto his open palm.

Leon focused all his brain power on keeping his hand as still as possible for you, watching you intently as you wrote on his hand. He never thought it would've been this easy, imagining he'd have to follow you to at least a few other cities before even getting a chance at this.

Once you finished writing, you placed the pen back into the same hand. You held his hand with both of yours, closing his fingers for him before patting them. Every single nerve ending in his hand was tingling with your touch, his eyes wide as he turned his gaze from his hand and back up to your face where his eyes met yours.

"I have to go, but don't be afraid to call, okay?" You slowly slid your hands off of his and stood up, grabbing the handle on the guitar case. "I'm easily reachable."

Leon pulled his hand close to his chest, opening his fingers to sneak a glance at your number. He balled his hand right back up before shoving it into his pocket, like he'd somehow lose it if he didn't keep a tight hold on it. He started to speak, voice cracking a bit which caused him to clear his throat before attempting to speak again. "Yeah, okay.. yeah.."

The agent was reduced to nothing more than his nerves, taking a shaky breath as he gave you a crooked smile. You nodded in acknowledgement, blush dusting your cheeks again as you stood awkwardly next to him.

You pointed towards the door before starting to shuffle away from him, muttering out a quiet "It was nice to meet you, Leon.."

You take quiet note on how nice his cologne smelled as you walked in front of him to the door.

"It was nice to meet you too, sweetheart." Leon responded, his shyness immediately falling away as he watched you leave, allowing a security guard to lead him to the main arena so he could walk out to the main parking lot where his car was.

He slid into his car and sat for a moment before leaning his head against the steering wheel, arms above his head as he laughed. It almost felt fake, but when he angled his head to look at the number written on his hand again, he knew it wasn't.

The man almost crashed 3 times on the short drive home, getting honked at numerous times as he sat unfocused at traffic lights when they turned green. He even sat at a stop sign waiting for it to turn green for a whole minute until he realized that it was not going to be turning green.

At least he made it back to his apartment building alive, that's all that mattered to him right now. He wanted to enjoy this moment of euphoria before his own exhaustion caught up to him, calmly walking into his apartment in case any of his neighbors saw him. Once his front door was closed and locked, he scrambled into his office to write down your number onto a piece of paper. He wanted to make sure the numbers were at least legible, seeing as his hands were trembling.

Afterwards, he moved to his bedroom to sit on the edge of his bed, having taken off his jacket and shirt, leaving them both abandoned on the floor somewhere in his room. The entire night was finally setting in for him, his breathing turning ragged as he leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees.

The blond shared the same analogy you had, feeling like an awkward teen all over again with how he could barely calm himself from such a simple interaction.

Leon kept himself on the edge of his bed, sitting up only slightly to pull his cock out from his boxers and unzipped pants, rock solid and incredibly sensitive. You'd been so close to him, and god the way you looked and sounded after giving the concert your all made it so easy for Leon to paint a picture of what you'd look like after he got his hands on you.

He's been hard for hours at this point, not even caring to undress fully before jerking himself off with the same hand that you'd written your number on. He was so thankful his precum didn't stain through to his pants during that whole ordeal, he wouldn't have known what to do if you knew about his problem.

The pen smudged as he wet his hand with his precum, the liquid smearing the ink all along his hand and dick. He didn't care, it'll wash off, he just needed to take care of himself right now. He wanted you, and now he knew you wanted him too, to some extent.

Leon closed his eyes, moving his left hand down to fondle his balls as he stroked himself faster, doing his best to imagine it was you playing with him like this. Whimpering with every breath, he started to wonder how you'd handle him: Your hands were a lot smaller than his, would you have to use two hands to stroke him properly? Would you touch his balls like this? Bet you'd be so willing to suck his cock, fuck, you probably taste so good too. Eating you out would be so fun, hearing you moan out his name with that pretty voice of yours-

It only took about a minute for him to cum onto the floor, eyebrows furrowed and panting heavily as he gripped the base of his cock tightly, feeling it throb with each string of cum that pumped out.

Wonder if you're on birth control..

Leon had to return to work the next week, feigning the flu in its final stages to keep up with his little white lie. No one questioned him, only offering smiles and the occasional "glad you're feeling better".

He didn't really do his work to the best of his ability, his main focus being when would be the right time to call you.

Embarrassingly, the agent went out and bought a flip phone since he didn't have his own phone. He hadn't needed his own phone before, using only his work phone when anything work related came up.

He didn't want to risk putting your number into your work phone and he figured having your number was a good time to invest in a personal phone.

Now, Leon had to gamble with the idea of calling you. Obviously he'll wait until he's home, but it's hard to think of anything else when you're only a button away.

His aloofness was normal to his coworkers, even more explainable considering he was "sick" last week. He was incredibly thankful no one bothered him with extra work tonight.

After work, he was sat on his couch, staring down at his new phone while the TV was on, flashing only colors in his periphery since he'd muted it. It was only 5pm, he was contemplating calling you. He wanted to hear your voice again, but he didn't know if it was too late in the evening or not.

You said you were easily reachable, so it's all or nothing, he guessed.

He pushed through his nerves, pressing the call button before slamming the phone against his ear with a slight wince. Every ring caused him to tense up.

On the final ring you finally picked up, breathing out a quick "Hello?" into the phone. Leon sat there frozen, sucking in a harsh breath before letting out a cough.

"Hey-.. Uh, hey. It's uh, it's Leon.."

There was a bit of a pause on the other end before you responded, voice cheerful despite sounding out of breath.

"Oh hey! I was wondering when I'd hear from you! How are you?"

"Uh.. I've been alright... how about you?"

Leon patted his thigh with his left hand, mentally chastising himself for his voice cracking again.

"I'm doing good, uh, I'm fighting a spider, so.."

You breathed into the phone with a laugh, causing Leon to smile and relax a bit as you kept the conversation alive.

"Oh yeah, spiders are kind of evil. Need me to ward it off?"

"I mean, I would take you up on that offer, but I'm already about 100 miles away from your city at this point."

Leon cursed internally, turning his head away from the phone to sigh where you could hear it.

"I appreciate it, though. This thing is nasty."

Your voice pulled him back to the phone, bringing a smile back to his face.

"You should get uh... that drummer of yours to help you. Two against one."

"Everyone is out at dinner. I'm all alone in this, Leon."

Your dramatic tone made him chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch.

"Okay, well, I'm with you in spirit."

The laugh you emitted only egged Leon on further.

"How long are you gonna be in the next city? If uh.. if you don't mind me asking."

"For a few days. It's our last city on the tour we're doing, then we go back to LA."

The agent nodded silently with a hum, his confidence slowly coming back to him. He needed to put his intentions out there.

"Would you mind if I drove out and took you to dinner tomorrow?"

He's now sweating bullets. There was another brief pause before you responded, the silence causing him to tense up once more.

"...I normally wouldn't accept something like that... but, you know what, I'll take you up on that."

Leon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, now leaning forward with a relieved look. You could hear the relief in his voice too.

"Uh- awesome! Okay, I'll find somewhere nice to take you."

You two said your goodbye's and hung up after you told the agent which city and hotel you were staying at.

He took it upon himself to go into his office and search up the location on his computer, easily memorizing the path to where you were since it mostly just involved following a freeway the majority of the way.

It took awhile for Leon to calm down after that call, now busy anticipating his journey tomorrow to see you. It'll be easy to call out of work again, saying the sickness flared back up or something along those lines. Anything to see your pretty face again.

He spent the night with himself, finding himself unable to fall asleep once more, just like the night before your concert. The man had never been or felt this desperate before, chasing some person he barely knew over a silly crush. Okay, it was more than a crush if he had to be honest with himself.

Planning on leaving early, he was more than frustrated when he finally fell asleep close to 4am. He wanted to scope out good restaurants and nice places to park, if it came down to that. The hopeful bastard.

Groggy, Leon got himself up only 2 hours after he'd fallen asleep, drinking the coffee he'd made himself on the stove days ago. It tasted stale, but it would have to do.

He definitely sounded the part when calling out sick again, which was accepted without question.

Wanting to make sure he looked his best even after a long car ride, he showered and shaved his stubble right before leaving, making sure to bring his cologne, hairbrush, and gum.

The drive was boring, traffic irritated Leon, but he eventually made it to the city you were in at around 3pm. He called you again, thankful you answered, and asked if 6pm was a good time, to which you happily accepted.

The three extra hours provided the blond with the much needed time to explore restaurant options and generally nice places to walk around. You probably weren't in this city often, if at all, so wandering like tourists seemed fit.

He eventually settled on a nice sushi restaurant since he hadn't had sushi in awhile. They had plenty of non-sushi options on the off chance you didn't like sushi. Or, you could pick the restaurant, he didn't mind, as long as he got to spend time with you.

Leon was nervous. He had to wipe his hands off a good few times since they'd grown clammy while gripping the steering wheel. He was parked outside the hotel you were staying at, having called you just a couple minutes before to let you know he was outside.

While waiting, the agent decided to get out and lean against the passenger door of his car. He wanted to be a gentleman and open the door for you, though he wasn't really sure people still held the door for others anymore.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk out past the main sliding doors of the hotel, immediately straightening his posture while giving you an awkward smile. You looked absolutely amazing.

"Hey," Leon breathed out, frozen for a moment before suddenly remembering to open the passenger door for you. He just couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

"Hey." You replied back, almost just as winded as he was. "Sorry, I didn't expect the elevator to be so busy. It took a couple rotations before I could even get down here."

You smiled at Leon as a silent thanks, sitting yourself down in his car before he carefully closed the door once you'd settled. After getting into the car himself, he gave you a quick glance and a smile of his own before driving to the restaurant.

Although the conversation between you and Leon was airing on the side of awkward, the two of you slowly loosened up as the night went on. Your apprehension regarding going out with a fan quickly left once you realized how charming the man actually was.

The power dynamic was one of your main worries. You didn't want to feel like you were taking advantage of a man so eager to please, but Leon actually had the same worry, considering his work as a government agent gave him a lot of special privileges that aren't normally handed out to the common person.

Luckily for him, you didn't pry about his work. You gladly accepted his vague description about working for the government and that was that.

You also didn't pry about his interest in you as a musician when the topic came up. That was a given.

After dinner, the two of you wandered around the downtown part of the city for awhile, sightseeing while chatting about anything and everything. You felt oddly safe around Leon, something about him just screamed stability.

Leon felt the same way about you, but the way he described you was fluffy. You made him feel fluffy and warm. And the promise of domesticity and love only made him want you more.

You were so easy to talk to. He rarely ever indulged anyone about his personal life, but he found himself talking about anything he could remember about his childhood on a whim with you.

You were stopped a few times by fans that recognized you. The majority of them had driven up to the city to see your concert.

He knew it was going to happen, but Leon really didn't like how they so carelessly wandered up to you. Did you not look busy to them? Pretty disrespectful, if you asked him.

Leon made sure to make his presence known by placing a gentle hand on your shoulder which pulled you from the brief conversation you'd been so rudely dragged into. If he actually got an opportunity to be with you, the attention you receive will definitely take some getting used to.

A reserved, near isolated man with a popular musician? What a combo that would be.

Eventually, you and Leon ended up back at the hotel you were staying at. The blond didn't want to leave, and it was clear you didn't want him to leave either, but he had work the next day and you were going to be extremely busy the rest of the week. So, as one does, you invited him into your hotel room anyways.

To hell with work, calling out again wouldn't hurt. He was good at feigning illness.

He followed you inside like a puppy, his chest practically pressed against your back the entire way up to your room. You didn't share a room with your bandmates, Leon thanks god for that, so he was able to settle a lot quicker once you led him into the room. You both took your shoes off, leaving them near the door.

As expected, the agent was awkward at first. The two of you just sat on the edge of the bed next to each other and talked for awhile longer.

"I'll admit, it's been a really long time since I've done anything. With anyone." Leon admitted quietly, his hands clasped together in his lap since he didn't quite know what to do with them in the moment.

You laughed nervously in response, almost mimicking his position. "Yeah, it's been a long time for me too. I'm very out of practice.."

He turned his head to look at you with a weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips, eyebrows furrowed upwards. "We don't have to do anything. We can just... hang out for awhile if you want to?"

You contemplated for a moment before responding to him again. "I mean, I'm totally fine with either or..?"

Leon really wanted to fuck you. He's been imagining this moment ever since he first discovered your music. He wished he wasn't so anxious, but he needs to power through that. He needs you.

"Can-" the man cleared his throat before taking in a small breath, voice hushed. "Can I kiss you?"

The second he heard you whisper out a weak "yeah", he quickly angled himself so his body was facing yours, tilting his head to the right as he leaned in and pressed his lips gently against yours.

It only took you a brief moment to bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, his hands moving to grip your waist, rubbing circles against it through your shirt as the kiss deepened.

He loved how vocal you were. You sang beautifully, sure, but he never would've guessed you'd be so sensitive to touch. The little whimpers you made just from being kissed and caressed were already driving him crazy.

Leon moved down to kiss your neck, nipping and sucking hickeys wherever he could. He tucked his fingers underneath your shirt, bunching it up partially before moving away from your neck to pull your shirt off.

He took some time to ogle at your figure, a low growl rumbling from his chest as he shifted himself on top of you, gently pushing you back against the bed to continue his assault on your neck.

Your breathy moans only continued to egg him on. Everything he's ever felt regarding you quickly came bubbling back up, leading him to leave a trail of hickeys down your neck, all along your collarbone, and on the tops of your breasts.

Leon had moved his right hand to grip the point of your hip, the left groping one of your boobs through your bra while keeping himself propped up with his knees on either side of your legs as he sat hunched over you.

The man couldn't keep his hands off of you, his hands dragging up and down your body as they swapped places every few seconds.

"Leon-.. god, please..." You moaned breathlessly, chest heaving. He groaned at the sound of his name leaving your pretty lips, dragging himself back up pull you into a heated kiss.

"My name sounds so good when you moan it." Leon growled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip which caused you to gasp, allowing him to lick into your mouth. "You taste amazing."

Your hands moved from the sheets to wrap around his neck again, carding your fingers up through the that fluffy golden hair on the nape of his neck. When he pulled away so you both could catch your breath, he wasted no time standing up to shuck off his own shirt.

Leon smirked when you sat up on your elbows, watching your wide eyes rake down his sculpted torso.

"Glad you like what you see." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to scoff playfully and grab one of the pillows off the bed, tossing it at him. He laughed, catching the pillow to throw right back at you, albeit a little softer than you had. "Hey, hey, alright."

You laughed with him as the pillow landed on your chest, letting it slip off to the side as you sat up fully. You tucked your legs under your ass, sitting back on your haunches as you reached forward to rest your hands against his thighs.

Looking up at Leon with those doe eyes, he just couldn't resist. He knew what you wanted. "Go on, don't be shy.." he spoke in a hushed tone, moving his right hand to rest on your head to play with your hair.

He angled his head down so he could watch you fumble with his belt, wanting to let you set the pace now.

"Thaaat's it, there ya go mama..." Leon whispered with a gravelly voice, eyes half lidded as he watched you finally pull his belt from the loops. Your hands were shaky as they now worked to unbutton and unzip his jeans, glancing up at him occasionally to make sure you were doing everything right.

Once you were able to fully undo the agent's jeans, he moved his hand off your head so he could tug them all the way down for you, kicking them away which left him in only his boxers and socks.

As mentioned before, you were out of practice. You didn't have a very good frame of reference for men, but Leon's sizable erection straining against his boxers was more than intimidating.

The man could tell you were worried. He didn't want to scare you, no, that's the last thing he wanted. So he brought his right hand up to hold the side of your face, caressing your cheekbone his thumb. "Don't feel pressured, sweetheart. Take your time for me."

You looked up at him as you took in a shaky breath, leaning your head against his hand for a moment with a nervous smile. "Thank you... Just-.. just work with me here.." you huffed, moving your gaze back down to his bulge.

You lifted your head away from his hand to which he moved back up to stroke your hair, keeping his gaze fixed down on you.

You tucked your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, glancing up at him one last time, prompting him to smile in approval. You nodded, swallowing dryly as you slowly tugged them down.

His cock sprung out at you and you let out a quiet gasp as it stood directly in front of your face now, tip red and angry. "Oh wow... okay.." you whispered, mostly to yourself as you took in the size of it.

Leon gave a breathy chuckle as he watched you, moving his legs a bit so his boxers would fall the rest of the way down.

You let your hands rest against the tops of his thighs again, a bit closer to his v-line as you looked back up at him. "I like your uh-.. I like your happy trail..."

Your quiet admission dragged another laugh from the man, who was looking right back at you with probably the most endearing expression. "Oh, do you?" You nodded. "I'll make sure to keep it for you then."

The way Leon kept stroking your hair felt so nice, his voice was really encouraging too. You were incredibly thankful he was willing to take things slow and let you lead for the moment.

Speaking of taking the lead, you brought your eyes back down to stare at his cock, watching precum pearl from the slit. You gave yourself one last mental push before bringing your right hand up to wrap around the base, glancing up at Leon when he hissed from the sensitivity.

Your eyes moved from his dick to his face every few seconds as you began slow, languid strokes. Once the blond was able to get past the sensitivity, he was smirking at you again, those encouraging words beginning to slip from his mouth again. "Mmm~... that's gooood... just like that, baby.."

Your confidence in the whole situation was growing with every word of praise Leon directed at you, leading to your hand beginning to move faster. Slick was pooling into panties now, especially with the way he was looking at you with that blissed out expression.

You must've had your own look going since he felt the need to comment on it. "You like that, mama? Like the weight on my cock in your hand?" You only moaned out in response. "Yeah you do. If only you could see the way you look, fuck- I wish I could take a picture. Those pretty eyes lookin' up at me while you stroke it, pouty lil' lips- shit~..."

Leon let you stroke him for awhile longer before patting your head softly, pulling your hand away from him. "C'mon, love. You're a bit overdressed for this, aren't you?"

Damn, you hadn't even realized you still had your bra and pants on. You made quick work of the bra, reaching back to unhook it before letting it fall forward and off your shoulders.

"Ohh~.. There's my gorgeous girl~.." Leon purred, eyeballing your now exposed breasts, cock twitching as he looked over the hickeys that he'd covered the tops of them with. "Those tits of yours look a bit heavy, mind if I hold 'em for ya?"

The agent chuckled as you clicked your tongue at him, and though you didn't want to, you couldn't help but smile at his joke.

He gently pushed you down back onto the bed by your shoulder, letting you move your legs out before he climbed on top of you again. "At least let me love on 'em for a bit?"

The way he said that almost seemed like he was begging, and maybe he was, but regardless you nodded, blush deepening as he brought his head down to your breasts.

He resumed how he was before when he was on top of you, caging you underneath his broad form. Leon teased you, kissing all around the soft mounds before bringing his right hand up to grope one while he attached his lips to the other, licking and sucking your nipple. Your hands flew up to grip at his hair, needing some sort of register.

"O-oh... Leon- ah~! ..Pl-ease be gentle..." As much as he tried to hold back, he couldn't help how desperate he was to taste and feel all of you; your soft cries of pleasure, the way your voice broke when he rolled his tongue around the perked bud, he wanted it all. Soon he was moaning, nearly whimpering, eyes closed while his mouth swapped from one nipple to the other, making sure both got equal treatment.

Leon had shifted his legs up a bit more, almost sitting on your thighs as he sat hunched over you, hands tight on your waist as he centered his focus on using his mouth to toy with your nipples, cock laying right below your belly button as it weeped onto your stomach. He was soaking you in, in love with how responsive you were, in love with you.

Eventually, you tugged his head away from your tender breasts, his mouth wet with his saliva as he looked at you with a dopey smile.

Leon needed more of you. He needed to taste more of you.

Pulling you to the edge of the bed as he stood, Leon quickly yanked off your pants, tossing them to the side. He took a moment to drink in the sight of you; blush running down to your chest, hickeys covering your upper half, nipples swollen, that beautiful body, panties absolutely soaked. He really wanted to take a picture now.

After the agent finished taking in the scenic view in front of him, he slipped down onto his knees, pulling you by your hips so your legs dangled over the edge.

He sighed contently, placing his hands on the inside of your thighs as you attempted to close them. He wasn't really listening at this point, but he could hear you whimper something about 'not staring at it'.

Alright, Leon won't stare. He'll do you one better.

He planted his face right against your clothed pussy, breathing in your heady scent with a low groan, causing his cock to twitch again. "Ohh-ho hooo.. shit baby~.. that's good..."

You gasped, legs trying to close instinctively again which Leon didn't allow. He was so strong, barely straining to keep you spread wide for him as flattened his tongue against the gusset before closing his mouth around it. His nose bumped against your clit over and over as he moved his head up and down, taking in everything you had to offer through your panties.

Your panties started to irritate the man fast, growling as he had to pull himself away from you to tug them off. He dropped them next to where his knees sat on the floor, making a mental note to take those whenever he left your hotel room.

As soon as your panties were off your body, he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, using his right hand to reach up and spread your pussy lips. You whined again about not wanting him to stare which was cut off with a moan as he moved his thumb to press against your clit and rub in small circles.

"If I wanna look at ya, I'm gonna.. and you're gonna let me too..." Leon slurred slightly, eyebrows furrowing as he watched you clench around nothing with a whimper.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" He rumbled, now stroking his index and middle finger through your folds, spreading slick up to your clit so he could keep massaging it. "You like when I get a little bossy with you, pretty girl? Hm?"

You nodded, eyes shut tight as you balled your fists up in the sheets. "Look at me, mama.. Watch me..." Your eyes opened at his words, teary from the stimulation, and he laughed. "There ya go~.. Watch me devour this sweet little cunt of yours."

His words barely had a chance to register in your clouded head before his face was buried back into your crotch, immediately licking along your folds. He slung your other leg over his shoulder before sliding his tongue around your slit, moaning as slick ran into his mouth. You responded with slurred moans of your own, hands flying back to grip at his hair. You muttered out barely legible nonsense, words almost always cut off by moans and whines as Leon sucked on your clit, nipping at it ever so gently.

The agent hadn't experienced this in so long. You sounded so pretty, tasted so good. You were all his now and he had to make sure you knew that too.

"Taste so good. All mine." He growled into your cunt, wrapping his arms under and over your legs so he could place his hands on your hips, holding you steady to keep you from squirming. "This pussy's all mine." He repeated with a chuckle as he continued to lap at your folds, tongue dipping into your hole.

"L-Leon-! I-...I can't-!" You cried out, tugging at his hair as you tried to pull his face away from you. You were close, it was too much.

Oh he needed this. Leon needed you to cum on his face. He brought his still partially slicked up fingers to your pussy, pulling his mouth away for just a moment while he wet them again with a mix of your slick and his saliva.

Immediately, he placed his mouth over your clit, sucking as he pushed one finger into your dripping hole, drawing a breathy gasp from you.

His finger was quickly buried to the knuckle, wiggling it a bit inside of you before starting to pump it in and out of you.

The combination of feeling Leon's thick finger inside of you, curling to hit just the right spot while sucking on your clit had you tumbling over the edge, choking out a moan as tears spilled from your eyes.

It had been so long since you'd done this with anyone, and even then, no one really took the time to focus on you like this.

Your orgasm racked through your body, legs trembling as you gasped, trying to catch your breath. Leon eased you through it, pulling his mouth away so he could look watch his finger slowly disappear into you repeatedly. Once he pulled his finger out, he sucked it clean, leaning down just a bit to drink you up.

"Mm.. good job, sweetheart.." He sighed, taking the chance to stare at your glistening cunt for a bit longer before setting your legs back down on the bed so he could get up off his knees.

The man sat you up as he crawled onto the bed, holding onto your waist as he moved to sit against the headboard, legs out in front of him. He pulled you up onto his lap, making sure you were in a comfortable position.

"That good, mama?" Leon whispered, running his hands down your arms as his eyes trailed down to where your cunt sat right against his cock.

"Yeah... yeah that's good..." You whispered back, angling your head down a bit as you moved your hips experimentally. You did it again when Leon moaned, his hands moving down to your hips so he could grind you down his dick.

The agent harshly huffed through his nose, watching your puffy lips glide across the length of him. "Damn, that's it baby- grind on my fucking cock... god you're so wet."

You let Leon grind you down onto him, weak and drawn out moans being pulled from your lips every time the head of his dick bumped against your swollen clit. He was so focused on you.

"Lift up for me." He ordered, moving one his hands to pat your thigh. You mindlessly did as he told you, lifting yourself up onto your knees so he could line himself up with your hole.

"Gonna fuck ya good.." The blond grumbled, furrowing his eyebrows as he brought his hand back up so both were on your hips again. "Gonna have ya bouncin' on this cock, baby.."

He slowly pushed you down, both of you moaning in tandem when his head pushed past that tight ring of muscle. He gave you a moment to adjust before pushing you further down, mouth agape as your pussy sucked him in.

Once you were fully seated on his dick, you let out a shaky whine, placing your hands on his pecs for balance even though Leon would make sure to keep you upright.

Giving you more time to adjust, he tightened his grip on your hips, feeling your walls clench around him before relaxing a bit. His breathing was ragged, doing everything in his power not to pound into you right then and there.

Instead, he began to grind you on his cock, moving your hips back and forth. You gasped and moaned, nails digging into the taut muscle on his chest. He couldn't help but moan as well, just the sight of him balls deep in your cunt was enough to have him ragged.

"Okay..." You breathed out, causing Leon to hold your hips still. "Okay.. okay I-.. I'm good.." you nodded, looking down briefly where the two of you sat connected before looking up at his face.

Leon didn't need to be told twice, breathing out a groan as he slowly lifted you up. The head was almost pulled out of you before he sat you all the way back down onto his dick. Your lips made an 'o' as you felt him caress the inside of you, breathing still shaky.

After repeating the process a couple more times, he started to pick up the pace, even meeting you with thrusts of his own.

"God- shit baby-.. fuuuck~.." Leon breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on bouncing you up and down while timing his thrusts. "Bounce on my cock, mama.. Feel it deep in that pussy?"

He spoke breathlessly, eyes moving from your face down to where his dick drilled into you, almost drooling at the erotic sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching.

"Uh-huh.." You moaned, moving your hands up to his shoulders so you could start to bounce yourself without Leon's help. "S'good.. ohhhh~.."

"Yeeeaahhh, it's good, huh?" Leon smirked, though it faltered a bit as you ground yourself down onto him again before starting to bounce again. "You love it, don't ya?"

You nodded lazily, tears starting to run down your face again while your legs trembled as they grew tired from the workout. The agent took notice of this, taking it upon himself to start bouncing you again since his hands were still firmly planted on your hips.

"Sing for me, sweetheart. Let me hear my superstar sing." Leon's thrusts turned hard as he felt you clench around him, listening to the way your voice rose again as your sensitivity grew. He filled you in all the right places, like you were made for him.

Your second orgasm made you scream, though it wasn't as loud as you thought considering your voice cracked. Your back arched, pussy clenching around Leon's cock like a vice.

He moved his arms up to wrap around your lower back as it arched, muscles flexing as he pulled you against his chest. He fucked you through your orgasm, thrusting up into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. You were so overstimulated, tears now streaming down your face as choked out moans were forced out of you.

"Want me to cream this sloppy cunt of yours?" He growled into your ear, only getting a loud whine in response. "Words, use your words, c'mon."

"P-please-!" You managed to stutter out as he pounded into you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so you could bury your face into his neck, tears dripping onto his exposed skin.

"Fuck- finally..." Leon rasped as he thrust into you for a few seconds longer before he held you firmly down on his lap. He came with a low groan, chuckling at your gasp when you felt him throb and pump you full of cum. "Take it, baby, fucking take it all..."

You both sat unmoving for a long minute, catching your breath before sitting up with a whine as your legs screamed at you and his cock shifted inside you.

The agent eased you off with a hum, watching his cum drip out of you and onto his stomach. You sat back once you felt him spread his legs for you, slotting yourself between them.

"Oh you're just perfect, aren't you? Gonna clean me off?" Leon chuckled when you nodded, sighing when you pressed your face against his cock after laying yourself on your stomach.

You licked a lazy stripe up the length of it, eyes closing as you tasted a mix of your juices and his cum. He placed a hand into your hair, gently combing through it as you sucked the head into your mouth with a soft whimper.

Leon watched with hungry eyes as you sucked on his cock, fitting what you could into your mouth before pulling away to lick him

clean, even going so far as to lick the cum off his stomach that had dripped out of you a minute prior.

"Perfect.. So good for me." Leon muttered out bits of praise for you, petting through your hair once you'd finished and just had his dick pressed against your cheek while you stroked it with your right hand. "My perfect superstar."

You smiled weakly, sitting up and crawling to the side so he could lay down, pulling your back flush against his chest the second you laid down.

The both of you were up early the next morning showering, Leon helping you clean by holding you against the shower wall so he could eat you out.

You had to go in to help your bandmates and crew set up the next stage you'd be performing at, so you gave Leon a tender kiss goodbye, reminding him to call you.

Oh he'll be calling you, right after he calls his boss. He forgot to call out and he already had a couple missed calls from them.

[lunavrse]

DREAM GIRL

CHARLES LECLERC

summary ★ : charles decides to take a page out of justin bieber's book. let's see how that works out for him.

category ★ : smau.

notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. everything is fake and unrealistic but thank you delusion. terrible flirting and the usual type of jokes/language you see on the internet.

me basically:

tagged: yourbestfriend

Liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend, user61 and 147 272 others

youruser so proud of ﹫yourbestfriend, she absolutely killed it and even took some cool pictures of me💚🥂 new video coming 🔜

View all 534 comments

yourbestfriend thank you for coming my love💚

youruser always😘

yourbestfriend it's not hard when you have such a gorgeous subject

youruser thank yewww

user6 stunning 😍

user12 you look amazing and ﹫yourbestfriend did fantastic!

user89 THE DRESS🤩

youruser i knowww, it's from meshki

user3 you're a beauty

user62 i need to know where the dress is from 🙏

youruser it's from meshki !

user56 can't wait to stare at the screen for the next few hours

user47 isn't her videos usually like 20~45 minutes?

user56 i know what i said

user1 oh !

user9 she did her big one😌

user11 pretty!

yourfriend serving face and body

youruser 🤍🤍🤍

user24 face card is lethal

user61 ﹫charles_leclerc

user60 ❤️🔥

user77 can we get a little commotion for the dress🗣️🗣️

Liked by pierregasly, user61, landonorris and 516 382 others

charles_leclerc who is she? if anyone knows, please tag her.

View all 3 272 comments

user4 nah, this guy

user26 this is crazy.

user92 WHAT IS GOING ON ?!!?!!

user5 is this real? like am i actually seeing this?

user15 he's got to have been hacked

user25 ain't no way

user13 actively going insane thanks to this actually.

user8 giving me flashbacks to december 8th, 2015

user14 i've got ptsd 😭

user10 from what? the war?

user49 bros acting like they were in a war💀

user8 it was a tough time to be a jb fan 😭

user3 IM CRYING

maxverstappen1 is this who we are, is this what we represent??

user3 max is done💀💀

charles_leclerc i said i had a plan, not that it was a good one mate

user1 wish it was me he's looking for

user45 that's me!

user86 in your dreams maybe

user58 get over yourself<3

user20 ﹫youruser

user67 She's so pretty, I want to cry

user76 she's so pretty, i want her

user48 ^^two types of people

user93 my brother in christ, stand up!!!

user50 BRO FORGOT HE'S FAMOUS😭🔥🗣️

user07 he's just like me fr

user84 mans is moving mad📢

user100 this is embarrassing

user34 think im gonna be sick

user30 don't be so dramatic

user51 i don't blame her

user70 she's obviously the prettiest girl ever🙄

user68 ﹫youruser !

user97 that's me !

user59 I'm gonna go cry myself to sleep now

user31 side eye

user29 who is she? she's stunning

user40 why is my fav youtuber in this picture

user46 iconic actually

user17 I know we can't see her face clearly, but she's serving

user21 i know her!

user37 what's her ﹫

user21 it's ﹫youruser, i follow her

user101 i want harry styles to do this but with me

user88 me too lol

user65 this is down bad behaviour

user201 thanks for ruining my day 👍

user248 it's giving wattpad vibes

user119 charles, look at me, this isn't you, think about the kids

user996 i was genuinely scared this was a hard launch

user123 alexa play that should be me

user8 how ironic

user147 ﹫youruser

user313 that's my girlfriend ﹫youruser

user05 praying for this girl cause the toxic charles fans, yikes😬

user000 gonna be delusional and pretend it's me 😁

user128 see i was so excited when i saw the notif and now i'm just 😐

user01 i cried when i saw this post btw

user306 imagine he posted a pic of asking who u are ﹫user43

user43 pls i would cry

user61 ﹫youruser

user007 idk and idc

user400 this is me if you even care

Liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, user4 and 253 953 others

youruser hello new people, where'd y'all come from?

View all 1 753 comments

yourbestfriend do you not check your notifications or...

youruser you know i don't

user245 girl...

user4 im in love with you lol

user500 just came from ur yt video, i'm so glad you had fun at the event!

user16 so this is the girl my husband is leaving me for🥲

user04 charles leclerc in her likes😭😭😭 ooh i'm sick

user287 then you're not gonna like this... he's flirting w her

user04 just fell to my knees in despair

user61 so real for that last slide

user56 pretty😍

youruser tysm pretty girl🤎

user791 charles mfing leclerc posted you!?!!!

user792 charles mfing leclerc liked!!

user793 charles mfing leclerc commented!!!

friend3 let's kiss 💋

youruser 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

user005 i too wish to kiss all the pretty girls

user800 idk what's going on rn but i loved your latest video, you and yourbestfriend were so cute and seeing you guys backstage together was sooo wholesome

user494 the part where they saw each other and started hyping each other up was my favourite

use712 her looking up a makeup tutorial 2 hours before she had to leave was so me

user55 he's in her likes y'all!

user942 thanks bud, i would never had noticed without u

user039 oh so she's dumb and ugly 😒

user44 and you're bitter and jealous...

user91 CHARLES LECLERC KNOWS YOU EXIST

use222 I wanna kiss you too 😞

user777 personally, i came from yt

user420 hi *louder than everybody else*

user311 what lip liner are you wearing babes?

youruser ﹫makeupbymario brown lip liner : )

user42 need a makeup tutorial!!!

charles_lerclerc my fault 🧍‍♂️

youruser i'll let it slide cause you're cute

charles_leclerc you think i'm cute? giggling, kicking my feet

youruser and blushing?

charles_leclerc mhmm, yeah

user0 THEY'RE FLIRTING!!!!

user456 deffo flerting

user942 YEAH?!???!!!!

user011 you guys know dms exist right???

user0 damn, i wanted to see this play out more 😭

user811 chill, my man is on this app

user35 she a baddie she know she a ten

user555 face card is never declining 😍

user411 do i want to date you or be you?

user87 so real!

user05 so we all saw them flirt right?

user942 yes😭

user28 STAY AWAY FROM HIM

user69 GET A JOB (directed to you user28)

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, user12 and 443 854 others

youruser day(s) n night(s)

View all 2 748 comments

user103 nottt her trying to be sneaky👀

yourbestfriend am i seriously losing you to a MAN???

youruser 'm always urs pooks💚

yourbestfriend tell loverboy that

user656 charles' new nickname is 🔥

user48 the way charles was here in the first few minutes of her posting💀

charles_leclerc et le prix de la plus belle fille te revient [and the award for the most beautiful girl goes to you]

youruser merci beau garçon

user12 Them speaking French to each other is all that I'm thinking about rn.

user707 A YT MAN?!?!?! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!!

user349 wish she was calling me a beautiful boy 😭

use117 i see you 4th slide, studious queen🤧

user824 charles try not to be a simp challenge

user107 level : IMPOSSIBLE

user41 ﹫user23 50 quid that's charles

user23 do you think i'm stupid?

user41 do you want an honest answer or?

user23 do you want to tell me your lastest test score or?

user41 ...

user23 yeah that's what i thought

user662 noooo pls don't be who i think it is

user35 she a baddie with her baddie friend(s)

user723 okay but the lashes ate💅🏾

user991 this is so weird, why are you posting him?

user75 you don't even know if that's him and you're already being defensive over a man who don't want you or even know you exist? don't pmo. get off her page!!!

user940 me when😔

user129 what about us?

user130 what about everything we've been through

user329 who is that man girl

user477 so are we just gonna ignore charles' comment or...

user452 just made me even more sure that it's him

user02 pretty girl<3

user170 if my future boyfriend don't bring me flowers on the first date, i don't want him🙅🏽‍♀️

user244 we get it, for some reason charles leclerc wants you😒

user311 ugh,,, the lip look always eats

user710 real, I'm obsessed

user536 is that charles?

user537 be serious, that is not happening

user539 ok 😐👍

user536 i actually can't be sirius, he's dead. hope this helps👍

user863 imagine that's not him and we're all just being crazy

user37 if that's not him, he's probably crying

user11 shittt, I would too, look at her

user29 he's probably the guy in the photos

user163 we all saw that interview right? it's definitely him

user288 yass, he looked so cute

user565 enough about charles, can we focus on how pretty she and her friends are??

user479 10s across the board fr

user504 I thought you were for the girls 😭

user716 i'm calling it now, that's a date w leclerc

user231 you look stunning 😍

user406 anyone noticed how he liked? he wouldn't do that if she went out on a date with someone else right?

user410 only everybody with eyes?

alex_albon yeah, no, he would be sobbing in a corner if that wasn't him

user410 ARIANA (Alex) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

use535 so he couldn't have fumbled, right....

user534 well...

user210 alex is just here to create chaos and honestly, i respect that

user73 please don't post your man again😒

user66 real!!! i come here to see you not him🥲

user711 love to see women getting treated right 😌

user385 slide 6 made me sick to my stomach

user858 he brought her flowers😫

user132 PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE

user705 that HAS to be him

user701 you never know, sometimes he is his own worst enemy

user898 did NOT 🚫❌ like this

user999 what if this was my last straw

tagged: charles_leclerc, youruser

Liked by user, pierregasly, user0 and others

allthingsleclerc local (monégasque) man seen out with mystery woman who sources claim is yn

View all 843 comments

user624 why is she still serving while blurred

user210 liked by pierregasly 🫣

user833 charles' friends are exposing him 💀

user0 that's definitely ﹫youruser

user04 serving cunt and he's there ig

user547 just becoz it's blurred doesn't mean you can't tell that it's her

user622 he looks miserable, he doesn't like her😭

user595 what? are you of sound mind?

lunavrse pls don't look too closely at the picture 😴

user923 What's the square root of 64?💅🏾

user700 they're just minding their business, why can't y'all do the same?

user674 it's a public place

user700 ☝️🤓 it's a pUbLIc PLaCe

user103 no bc they're lowk matching 😭

user933 it's so over😭😭

user72 that's so cute🥰 who wants to have a sleepover on the highway with me?

user33 that could just be a coincidence?

user172 i actually don't care but THAT DRESS, i need to know where she got it from

user32 oh ! i didn't realise that she was actually his type

user79 ... i wish there was a side eye emoji

user18 oh that's not-

user32 nonono in a sense that he usually dates like brunettes

use499 wdym, 'm pretty sure she is brunette?

user03 we know what you meant lol

user270 wish i could live in delusion

user320 he's probably paying for everything 🙄

user419 and? he's literally a millionaire, if he wants to spend his money on his (alleged) girlfriend let him. it's not your money

user232 girl, pipe down

user890 I don't see the problem?

user52 why do you assume that? do you know her financial situation? or you a close friend of either of theirs who knows what's going on? if the answer to these questions are no, shut the fuck up, thanks<3 peace and light to you.

user562 try not to say mother

user587 [failed]

user612 Why can't she stay away from him?

user258 why can't you mind yr business?

user718 first picture of them out together and they look great

user106 her rn: damn i'm the only bitch serving cunt here😭😭 omg😭 i'm so embarrassedd😭😭😭

user211 she should be at the club, not on gossip pages😭

user261 fuck she looks too good, i wanna kms

user211 real

user586 took a social media break and came back to this😃 great !

user404 i wanna say parents🤭

user648 this actually made my day

user446 Gonna sleep on the tracks tonight🥰

youruser and you're kenough for me❤️

charles_leclerc thank you barbie !

most beautiful barbie ever❤️

landonorris this ken's job is simp

charles_leclerc you'd be a simp too if you could actually date such a stunning woman but you can't 🫶

landonorris you're a cruel, cruel man

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 749 365 others

youruser me gusta la mar🏖️

View all 2 836 comments

yourbestfriend wish i was on a boat right now😔

youruser i literally invited you and you said no?

yourbestfriend i have to face unimaginable horror (work)

user12 that boat looks familiar

yourbestfriend you look stunning babes💚

youruser tysm, means the most coming from uuu pookie 💚

use501 forget about charles and give me one(1) chance pls

charles_leclerc me gustas tú

user779 SCREAMING

user784 chill, it's a song lyric

user779 yeah but have you heard the song???

charles_leclerc gorgeous view, and the sea looks good too i suppose

youruser my view was much better but thank you<3

charles_leclerc i doubt that. je pourrais te regarder pendant des heures sans jamais me lasser. [i could look at you for hours and never get bored]

user055 someone is coming for your smooth operator title ﹫carlossainz55

user964 Charles Rizzclerc???

yourbestfriend she's screaming btw

youruser no i'm not

yourbestfriend then why do i have a vn of you screaming?

charles_leclerc 😊

user96 it's quiet🤐... no back talk

user71 stay focused my brothers, we must stay focused

user53 i am looking respectfully, i promise

user131 when will someone tell me the things he says to her🙃

user677 everytime you post a picture my jaw drops

yourfriend oh my gorgeous coco butter melanated caramel skinned goddess, please notice me🙏🏾

youruser oh you've got jokes🤨

yourbestfriend GOODBYE😭 im showing this to ur man

yourfriend you really thought you did suttin🤣 he knows who he's dating😋

user22 I would sacrifice my favourite duck plushie for just one chance to be in your presence 🙇‍♀️

youruser that's so sweet yet so disturbing pls keep your plush safe

user22 Yes queen, whatever you say 🫡

user803 if you look close enough, you can see me drowning myself in the ocean 🤗

user70 forget vroom vroom boy n give a g(ay)irl a chance😫

user312 charles in his simp era

use314 love to sea it

user312 that's a terrible pun and i hate that i laughed

user2 you know who has a boat??? charles

user057 the way that you're actually glowing in these🫠

user717 i love the hat, it just kinda brings the whole thing together

lilymhe you look amazing! and i love the bikini!

youruser tysm🫶🏾 i love u!!!

user742 a friendship i never knew i needed

user335 Since when did Lily and Yn know each other??

user386 since they're both wags, it only makes sense

user360 but yn's not a wag

user386 yet

user109 hi lol

user634 her body is teaaa

user7 did someone say body-ody-ody-ody

user19 he can do so much better than you

user482 I know you want him but I can be so much better than him in so many ways, I swear, please please please please *begs excessively*

user888 Does Charles have her post notifications on or what?

user938 i'd say yes cause how else would he like her posts so fast

user064 the swimsuit is everythinggg

user229 it's giving hot girl summer ⛱️

user177 i could start a whole new ocean with the amount of tears i've cried

Liked by user621, youruser, pierregasly and 927 375 others

charles_leclerc me gusta el viento

View all 3 276 comments

user905 he knows exactly what he's doing

user200 Not him having the exact same meal picture as her

user080 let's talk about the matching captions

user621 most beautiful man I've ever seen

youruser me gustas tú

user331 Y'ALL ARE NOT SLICK

user331 in fact, you're both so sick for playing with us like this

user774 we know you like the wind, we've seen your hair

user405 jajajaja

user607 okay, you might have nibbled with this a little

user775 jail!!! do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars

user379 what she said wasn't even that bad nor untrue

youruser now THIS is a view. tu as ta place au louvre avec toutes les autres grandes œuvres d'art. (you belong in the louvre with all the other great works of art)

charles_leclerc oh ! thank you, i am so normal about you and this comment

pierregasly great, now he's glitching and going crazy in the group chat again

user2 AGAIN?!?

alex_albon spoiler alert ⚠️ he was not normal about this

user125 who blames him? not me. instead, i am insanely jealous

user457 WHY ARE THEY BOTH BREAKING OUT INSANE LEVELS OF RIZZ?

user508 oh he's so fine🤤

user933 the matching captions and matching replies,,, god I'm NOT your strongest soldier

user36 yesss king, give us beach!!!!

user078 well, boat but yes!!!

user649 he said im speeding up the soft launch

user573 by 0.25x speed

user649 at least it's something?

user378 honestly i will take these crumbs instead of absolutely nothing

user269 i LOVE crumbs 🤤 mmhmm😋

user120 is really considered a soft launch when they make comments like THAT?

user801 someone sedate me, im unwell🤒

user903 he's trying to thirst trap us into ignoring the 4th slide

user754 well it's working😫

user028 charles!!! te amo 😘

user753 gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure like a rat/mouse with a giant block of cheese

user136 One like and I'll drown myself.

user112 why did you like it🤨

user136 Damn Nessa, mind ur business😐, why did YOU🫵🏽 like it?

user388 them posting sea/boat pics on the same day? THEY'RE TOGETHER

user33 hear me out, it could be a coincidence

user388 *shakes you violently* HOW MANY COINCIDENCES DO YOU NEED

user770 i think we're focusing a little too much on the wrong thing here

user911 if i said what i was thinking, i'd be banned from this app.

user762 can't wait to see you at the next race! praying for a podium finish🙏!

user63 Who are you taking pictures of Charles???

user894 Gee that's a tough one/s

user720 he didn't really think we'd ignore the 4th slide

user402 i am here to do some good ole fashion SLUT shaming🗣️📢

user309 Love them trying to out-compliment each other

user61 he has such a gorgeous smile

user7 actual post of you and ﹫youruser when?

user633 nobody wants to see that

use105 speak for yourself

user708 😍😍

user808 i don't know who's luckier, her or him

user809 both, both is good

user007 hope you're having fun destroying my heart😭😭

user169 charles please, please, do you need a dog because i swear i can bark. in fact i am barking and drooling violently rn

user196 you really get me

user45 he's taking pictures of me y'all 🫶🏼

user502 🥵🔥

user19 you can do so much better than her, i promise

user67 i cried a little when i saw your post of her was still up

user64 I feel like a Victorian man™ seeing a woman's ankle for the first time 😵‍💫

user664 feeling like how teachers think boys feel when seeing a girl's shoulders

user325 don't forget to keep applying sunscreen!

user04 he's so pretty, i'm sick to my stomach.

user758 he tryna kill people i swear

user99 honestly, i think he looks so at peace/happy and i'm grateful for that

user74 you're honestly ruining my life by not being mine 😭😭😭

user981 that looks like too much food for 1 person

user523 that's because im with him🤗

user296 screaming, crying, throwing up, banging my head against the wall, wailing like a banshee.

tagged: youruser

Liked by youruser, user291, landonorris and 973 638 others

charles_leclerc play all mine by brent faiyaz

View all 4 726 comments

user39 just fell to my knees in a Walmart

youruser this is not the soft launch we agreed on mon bijou

charles_leclerc just wanted to show you off mon ange

youruser oh !

user505 ALL MINE BY BRENT FAIYAZ!??!! oh it's really over 😭

landonorris can't even get picture creds for the 4th slide

user444 you didn't even get a reply 💀 everybody point 🫵🏼 and laugh

landonorris just looked at your bio and it says ln4, i really is your own fans😞

user528 can't believe she invented green 😮‍💨

user553 them in the photobooth, fuck, is it hot🥵🥵 in here orrr

youruser who is she???

charles_leclerc oh you know, just the love of my life

youruser kicking my feet, smiling SO hard right now. je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime.

charles_leclerc je t'aime encore plus mon ange❤️ (i love you even more my angel)

user378 The launch we've been waiting for

user957 the way they're looking at each other, parting my hair with a knife 🤪

youruser you're obsessed with me

charles_leclerc well, yes! am i not supposed to be??

user39 no shame in admitting it, i respect that🤷🏽‍♂️

user291 serving cunt like she got a master's degree in cuntology from servington universitea

user239 charles, can you fight because i feel like i'm gonna steal your girl

charles_leclerc ... you have five seconds to delete this🙂

user805 If I speak...

user806 charles would probably block you

user575 charlessss i can make you happier, trust me

youruser no, i don't think i will

user575 my bad girl, didn't think you'd see this.

maxverstappen1 you guys are so sickening, please get a room

charles_leclerc who even invited you???

youruser wow max, i thought you liked us

maxverstappen1 YOU DID

maxverstappen1 not enough to watch you both be so touchy sorry

yourbestfriend my stunning girl💚

charles_leclerc i think you mean, MY girl

yourbestfriend i'm not arguing with you, ﹫youruser please come get your man

youruser i think 'm gonna stay out of this...

user332 when will someone post me to my fav brent faiyaz song🫤

user333 manifesting getting posted to stay down 🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾

user334 my wedding song frfr😩

user018 why did daddy's home start playing 🛐

user12 FINALLY

user618 is your girlfriend single?

charles_leclerc read that first part again for me

user466 KHCJTSURS 5HE HARED LAWNCH

user540 not one word spelt correctly, open the schools!!!

user843 who is cutting onions😭😭???

user785 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM

charles_leclerc feeling really blessed 🙏🏻

user912 this is so unserious 💀

user440 love love love 😘

user54 love a black woman from infinity to infinity!!!

user113 in the words of dove cameron, i could be a better boyfriend than him. trust🙏🏾

user53 NOOOO YN come back to meeee!!!

charles_leclerc i think she's good here, next to me

user17 can't breathe!!!

user17 hottest gf alive

user17 she looks too good i can't breathe 🫠

user27 showed this to my therapist and she's finally gonna let me kill myself

user065 to be shown off like this,,, i beg

pierregasly the fact that we were together in the last slide...

charles_leclerc but is this a friend group hard launch?

user513 call this hard launch an ugly twink the way it cannot be topped

use488 CALL IT WHAT NOW🎤🎤

user83 the wording is CRAZY

user48 not Charles beefing with everyone in love w his girl💀💀

user259 just bought a whole house with the 1st pic. her face card is insane

user613 kissin the screen😙

charles_leclerc kissing her👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

youruser ok that's enough

user613 oooohhhh you got scolded 🫵

user6 LETS GO TO PARIS😋

user084 the audacity to use that emoji, ijbol

user40 i hate you

user40 i'm sorry that was jealousy speaking, so happy for you❤️

user069 i - no words

user675 charles, I heard she throws rocks at orphans

charles_leclerc i'm not an orphan but she can hit me😊

arthur_leclerc NO SHAME😭

youruser i do not throw rocks at children, ﹫charles_leclerc hi

user675 yeah, i lied but he's something...

Liked by charles_leclerc, user61, yourbestfriend and 985 732 others

youruser think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else...

View all 4 662 comments

user73 didn't i say don't post your man 🥲

charles_leclerc who is that guy?

youruser he's just this guy i'm hopelessly in love with

charles_leclerc he's very lucky❤️

youruser we both are❤️

user23 we all know who it is girl🤣🤣🤣

charles_leclerc i can't believe you didn't post a single picture of me where my face is visible 😪

youruser i hate you, you know we agreed on the soft launch

charles_leclerc you hate me? so enemies to lovers😏

youruser 🤦🏾‍♀️

user704 she's so mean to him, what does he even see in her

user202 you know there's this thing called banter and he's a grown man who can make his own decisions?

user525 can't wait for the future videos of her at any of the grand prix races

user4 he's got a grip on you in every picture i've seen of y'all together so far, like chill lil bro, she's not gon run away🤣🤣🤣

user206 he's actually just like me bc if she was my girl...

yourbestfriend the best launch because we don't have to see his face

user180 ur so real ily

yourbestfriend jokes, but I'm happy for you both💚

youruser love you💚

user16 i'm so😭 happy😭 for you😭 both😭

user444 lover gyal era!

user407 must be nice to young, sexy and in love

youruser it really is🥰

user350 do y'all need a third, a dog, a maid, or anything really because i can do it all!

user110 shattered.

user12 feeling giddy asf like i'm the one who got posted😵‍💫

user61 you two look great together😊

youruser thank you aoife🤎

user61 you KNOW MY NE?$?$?_? SHE KNOWS MY NAME JEJEJEJ IM SCREAKING

user08 lord, i see what you've done for others 🙏🏼

user940 when will it be me.(with you)

charles_leclerc never, not even in the next thousand lifetimes 🤣

user838 CHARLES???

user839 OHMYDAYS?!?!

user516 the rope in my backyard looks so tempting

user133 I love k. so much

user48 feet? for free? in this economy?

lilymhe leave him for me, let's run away together💒

youruser packing my bags 🛍️

charles_leclerc ﹫alex_albon please come get your girlfriend

alex_albon lily... what is this

lilymhe as the saying goes, never let your boyfriend stop you from finding your wife

charles_leclerc NOT MY GIRLFRIEND THO

youruser boooo tomato tomato tomato i'm throwing tomatoes🍅🍅🍅

charles_leclerc mon ange???

user909 lily was cooking ♨️🍳

user102 remember everyone, he is NOT a mountain, he CAN be moved!

user00 Donatella VERSACE💜

user6 i love the eiffel tower

user315 because you're parisian, right????

user57 i don't think that's the reason💀💀

user510 do you want another boyfriend?

user204 i just think it really weird that you're not posting his face when he literally posted multiple pictures of you on his account, like what are you hiding?

user832 i think it's weird that you don't know how to mind your own business? like it's crazy that you think you're entitled to a reason. this is her account to do what she wants with it, even if she posted him, you'd complain. so please, just shut up.

user278 not my boyfriend having the audacity to steal my girlfriend from me🫤

user98 honestly if I looked like her, i would not know how to act

user122 facts

landonorris what is with you and your boyfriend not giving credit for pictures i take???

youruser this isn't about you right now🫶🏾

user444 at least you got a response this time

landonorris again, for someone who has ln4 in their bio, you sure like to bully me

user444 you think this is bullying? i can actually bully you if you want

landonorris no, i'm good👋🏻

user303 that one girl was right about you liking the wind a lil too much

user926 yeah this is cute and all but can i land this backflip off a cliff?

user376 those flowers are so pretty 🤍🎀

user401 driving home in the wrong lane tonight🤣

user527 the way i was right the whole time and now my friend owes me money 🥰

user830 you guys are such a cute couple

user010 this would have been such a good soft launch dump of we didn't see his hard launch 😅

youruser added to their story.

user09 posting a man to MITSKI?! oh it's serious, ur actually down horrendous

yourbestfriend hard launching on ur story when you soft launched in a post is crazyyyy🤣🤣

youruser hard launching when i see a ring 🤗

nah, im kidding but if they want to see him, go to his profile🤷🏾‍♀️

yourbestfriend IKTR 💅🏾

user215 now my man's gonna expect me to post him on my story like this😑 but i forgive you queen 🙄

landonorris finally made it in a post!

youruser finally you can stop complaining 🫶🏾

landonorris why are you and charles so mean to me

youruser because you deserve it, hope this helps🙌🏾

francisca.cgomez double dating with you was so fun! can't wait to do it again 💞

youruser yes! gonna go bother charles to make plans for another one soon 😁

user121 the sun drawing around ur eyes🥲 crying, that's so effin cute

yourfriend not you being all sentimental with the daniel caesar song AND the puzzle pieces

youruser damn, can't even do something nice🧍🏾‍♀️ see if i post you again

yourfriend you're so dramatic pookie

user531 the bear and the flowerss, please where can i get man like that😖

user479 so many gorgeous girls🥰

user06 glad you're surrounding yourself with people who make you happy and bring out this lovely light 🤎

yourfriend2 when the plans finally make it out the group chat🙌🏾🎉

youruser love that for us🤧 but i swear getting stuck in that elevator made me reconsider all my decisions leading up to that moment

yourfriend2 the 1st hour wasn't that bad tho

yourfriend3 we will never be free🙁

youruser please shut up😭😭

yourfriend3 no bc you didn't listen when dr umar said "SNOW BUNNIES NEVA🙅🏾‍♀️❌"

youruser i do not see it🧘🏾‍♀️

𖦹 𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𓂃 𖦹

⤷ end note ‧ ★ : halfway through making this i went "hmm, this should be a lando smau" but then i continued doing this. it posted like 5 times which freaked me out and was supposed to be done ages ago but yeah. also french is from deepl. enjoy.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘐 𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘛𝘰 𝘚𝘢𝘺 (𝘖𝘳 𝘋𝘰.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’d never understood why Bucky never seemed interested in physical intimacy. When you find out, you realize it goes deeper than you ever thought.

Note: For my ‘Don’t Touch Me’ square on my @marvel-smash-bingo card!

Warnings: rape/non-con, sexual abuse, nightmares, ptsd, Hydra Themes, implied Hydra Trash Party, insecure!reader(?), crying, angst.

[Series Masterlist]

Your sex life was not bad in these last few months you’ve been dating Bucky. That wasn’t to say it was particularly good, either.

You hadn’t had sex with him at all. You hadn’t even got past a little bit of making out. And there was nothing wrong with that, either. Maybe he was just shy. And he was a real quiet guy when he was around anybody but you, so you knew that that was a possibility.

He was also born in 1917, so there could be just more of an awkwardness around the topic for him. You obviously had no idea what Sex Ed was like in the 1930s, but you knew that it definitely wasn’t great.

Maybe he just wasn’t interested in sex at all. And that was perfectly fine, too. He could be asexual. Or gray-asexual. Or demisexual. And you were by no means a homophobe. If he wasn’t into it, he wasn’t into it and that was that. You would certainly not be upset or—God forbid—angry over something like that.

But the thing that plagued your mind after he ran off somewhere after kissing you for a little too long was the why. He’d never said a word about sexual attraction—you’d never had that conversation before. You didn’t really know how to bring it up.

Part of you wondered if you were the problem. Was he just not attracted to you? Was there just one tiny detail on you that completely made him not want you in that way? Fuck, did you smell bad?

You pushed the thought away. But you did know that you needed to have this discussion with him. Mainly in case that last reason was it.

As if right on cue, he walked into the kitchen of your apartment.

“Hey, doll.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around you and swaying you from side to side.

“Howdy howdy. I didn’t hear you come in.” You grinned. “You’ll give me a heart attack one day.”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly.

The rest of the night went on as usual. At least, until halfway through the night—perhaps early morning—when you were awoken by the sound of muttering.

Now, to be very honest, you thought about muttering ‘shut up’ back, before you remembered that you were a real person and not a dinosaur like you’d been dreaming about.

You sat up, looking over at your boyfriend. Another bad dream.

You kneeled above him, opening your mouth to say something to wake him up. And once again, as if on cue, he woke up. He sat up quickly, bonking you in the head with his own skull.

“Fuck—“ You hissed as your eyes watered slightly. “Bucky, you’re okay, you’re okay, it was a dream, it’s over.” You attempted to reassure him as you reached out.

“Don’t touch me,” he pleaded. “Don’t touch me. Please.” The way he said it made your stomach flip.

“I’m not.” You promised. “I won’t. I won’t. You’re okay, you’re safe. It’s me. Jus’ me and you.”

He seemed to relax at that as he laid back down. And then—very surprisingly—fell right back asleep.

Normally his nightmares were more of a major thing, so this was certainly a surprise. You frowned, before you yourself eventually fell back asleep.

The next morning, you woke up alone, with the faint smell of breakfast coming in through the room. You walked out of your bedroom and to the kitchen, greeting your boyfriend.

“Mornin’,” you hummed.

“Good morning, doll. Did you sleep good?” He asked innocently, as if he didn’t remember the night’s…revelations.

“Yeah.” You murmured back. And then you decided to finally grow some balls and ask.

“Bucky? Can I talk to you about something serious?”

“Sure.” His brows furrowed slightly. “Always, hon. What’s goin’ on?”

“Is there a reason you don’t want to have sex with me?”

He practically turned to stone.

“What?” He croaked out.

“There’s nothing wrong about it! I’m just—it’s stupid. I’m sorry, I’m being an asshole. Never mind—“ You wanted to simultaneously beat the absolute shit out of yourself and bury yourself.

“No, you’re not.” He cut you off. “I—should’ve told you earlier. About this. It’s—it’s not you, I promise. I..I want to have..sex with you and all of that stuff. I do, really. It’s just—there’s..some stuff.”

Your brows furrowed as you took on a concerned and empathetic expression. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s—it’s okay. I do. It’s important to me that I tell you.” He explained. “But—it gets kinda heavy. Are you okay with..hearing all of that?”

You nodded. “Yes, babe. I am.”

“When I was—when I was the Winter Soldier, HYDRA would torture me. You know that. They’d…’punish’ and ‘train’ me in ways that..fucked me up. Clearly. One of those ways was through sex.” He admitted, fiddling with his hands.

Your mouth went dry. You didn’t really know what to say. Or to do, even. Did you comfort him? Say anything at all?

“I know you would never do that to me. I promise—I’m positive and comfortable in the fact that you wouldn’t ever do anything to me without my permission.” He assured you, making eye contact. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that I can say ‘no’ and can make my own decisions without any form of punishment.”

You nodded slowly.

“But it’s just—it’s hard, y’know? Like, how I get all..jumpy and ‘PTSD-y’ on the Fourth of July because of the fireworks. It’s like that, but with..sex, and being naked and stuff like that. It doesn’t have anything to do with the Fourth of July, just like it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s just..a thing that happens in those circumstances.” He explained. “I don’t—I’m sorry. I don’t want to be like this, I promise.”

You could see his nose was getting red and his eyes were beginning to water.

“I don’t want to be broken.” He blinked away some tears, wiping the ones that escaped his eyes with the side of his hand.

“Baby, no. Oh, baby. No, you’re not broken. Honey, you’re not. I promise.” You comforted. You opened your arms for a hug and he wrapped his arms around you.

When he was ready, he continued. “It was mostly men. There weren’t any women in HYDRA up until like..2010. But sometimes they’d sell me—and I mean literally sell me—off to certain powerful women for a variety of purposes. And I didn’t have a choice.” He murmured.

“I know, baby. It wasn’t your fault. None of that was ever your fault.” You said softly.

He nodded slowly. “I do..want that. I want to do that with you, it’s just—it’s hard.”

“I know. Thank you for telling me. And we can take it slow. And if you realize you’re not into it at all—no shame. No judgement. Not from me.” You promised.

He nodded. “Dr. Raynor—when she was my therapist she..she uh, pushed on the subject.” He confessed. Your brows furrowed.

“She what?”

“I was mad about it then. And I still think she could’ve gone about it in better ways, but she gave me something useful, so..at least there’s that.” He hummed. “She suggested showering and taking baths together. For..non-sexual intimacy.”

“You wanna try that?” You met his eyes, the beautiful blue eyes that captivated you.

He nodded slowly. “If you're comfortable with it, yeah.”

“Okay. We can try that, babe.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I love you.” He murmured. You’d heard him say it before, you’d worked your way up to it, but neither one of you really wanted to hold back that feeling from each other.

“I love you too. No matter what.” You swore.

A/n: two Oneshots on the same day? Shocking, I know. Really wanted to bring hydra trash party and reader insert fics together. This was low key inspired by me and an ex (we’re on good terms dw), and it feels very important to me.

Please reblog if you enjoyed!

Sequel here!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[luveline]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k

tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in. 

You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.

You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person. 

The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley

Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible ! 

she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew 

hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley

"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful." 

Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend. 

"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?" 

You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with." 

The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again. 

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks. 

You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?" 

Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step. 

It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–" 

"Garcia," Hotch interrupts. 

"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days." 

"Address?" Hotch asks. 

"Already sent to your phones." 

"Thank you, Pen," you say. 

"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says. 

Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else. 

You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional. 

You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job. 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him. 

"Hm?" 

"Is everything okay?" 

"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles. 

Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week. 

Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity. 

The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends. 

Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.

"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest." 

You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.

You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat. 

You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again. 

You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands. 

You stare at yourself. 

You look tired. 

Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth. 

Or, it should be. 

A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes. 

A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call. 

"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."

Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep. 

"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?" 

"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking." 

"Do you want to come in?" you ask. 

"Please." 

Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob. 

"It's very clean in here," he says. 

You startle. "What?" 

"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks. 

"No, is it bad?" 

"It's like a paper hurricane."

You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin. 

"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of." 

Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about. 

"Did Derek tell you?" you ask. 

"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.

You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre. 

"Nothing." 

"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing." 

You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.

He leans forward. "What?" 

"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch." 

"I don't feel sorry for you." 

You wince, "No, of course not." 

"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic. 

"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.

His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired." 

"Saying I looked unagreeable." 

"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?" 

Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–" 

Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again. 

"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter." 

"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says. 

He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely. 

"It didn't," you lie. 

Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either. 

"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says. 

You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening. 

"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit." 

"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood. 

"Neither," Hotch says.

You gawp, and then falter. "Why…" 

Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair." 

"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.

His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter. 

"That's not the job," he says.

"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think." 

"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful." 

"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out. 

"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."

You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.

Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better. 

"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else." 

"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely." 

Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands. 

"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."  

Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks. 

"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head. 

"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now." 

You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile. 

You nod again. 

He relaxes. 

"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.

"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it." 

He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight." 

"No more caffeine," you agree. 

He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek. 

—

"Hi, beautiful," Derek says. 

"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says. 

You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good. 

"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly. 

Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey." 

"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself." 

Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid." 

"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot. 

"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees. 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."

"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing. 

"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you. 

You jump half out of your skin. 

"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.

Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?" 

A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears. 

Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is." 

He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling. 

"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love." 

"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer. 

"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."

"She does not," Derek says severely. 

You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.

"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.

"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her. 

You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental. 

"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?" 

You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go. 

 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Chapter Three

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)

Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, ptsd/ flashbacks, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, jealousy, scenting, fingering, recollection of non-con trauma (for the plot), alcohol consumption/drunk character, let me know if i forgot anything?

Word Count: 6.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Sorry this one took a while, been a hell of a week. It's got a lot of angst, so prep yourselves guysss. Ends with smut, ofc. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍

Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.

<- Previous Next ->

“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.

Oh shit.

You look to your left to see the first rays of sunlight shining on Ralak’s sleeping, naked body, chest heaving slowly from his unfaltering breaths. Perched on his side, his face sits in his palm, as if he’s fallen asleep partially sitting up. Two fingers still nestled inside you, his facial muscles are slightly tensed, like he’s ready wake up any minute and tend to your every need, just like he’s been doing all night long. 

“Get your ass home. Now.” Jakes irate voice brings you back to reality.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

What were you going to tell Jake? That the storm did keep you up? He’d never believe that. Not for a second. Either way, if you didn’t go now, this man would skin the love of your life. Unmated, in his bed, all before your second iknimaya? He’d try, at least.

“Sst-ah.” you let out a shaky breath, grimacing as you pull his fingers out of you. They’re covered in your cum, so much so that a thick string of slick connects you to his fingers when you pull your pelvis away. You scramble to your feet, wiping yourself up with the already damp cloth next to his bed.

I’ll be back, my love. You think, looking over at him one last time before rushing out of his marui.

On your way to the cave, you try to assess your state. It’s hard to tell, given the fact that your heart is pounding at a speed only an ikran could attain. Anxiety streams through your veins, but otherwise, you feel fairly normal. Maybe a little bit like you did after your first iknimaya, when you passed your dream hunt and had one too many glow worms. But nothing unmanageable.

Guess it’s over.

Finally arriving at the cave, frantic eyes search the body of water for your loincloth. It’s floating at the far end of the lake, so you dive in. As you’re swimming, you catch a whiff of your own scent, mixed with Ralak’s. You bring your arm to your nose and take a deep breath. “Fuck.” you curse under your breath, submerging your entire body in the water, trying to bathe his scent off you.

You knew you scented each other, but you didn’t know that it would linger this long. You scrub your body, paying extra attention to your chest and neck. Time is going faster than you can move. But it’s like the more you scrub, the more you rub it into your skin – into your essence.

“Forget this.” you huff, grabbing your loincloth and swimming back to sand. You wring it out, slip inside and tie the knot hastily. One last look back on his marui pod, and you’re gone like the wind – quick and silent.

The trek back home is nerve-wracking, you feel so uneasy that you could feel something in your throat. A lump. You swallow repeatedly, trying to get rid of it, but it grows a little bigger for every step you take. By the time you’re at your marui door, you feel like you can’t breathe.

Neteyam smells you first, wreaking of a male na’vi, nose scrunching at the odour. He huffs a harsh breath through his nostrils, attempting to rid the lingering scent from of his lungs. He examines your condition – clammy skin with little colour left in it. Eyes trailing up to your face, he could see the fear written all over it, along with something else. Something like –

“Jesus, what the hell were you thinking?!” Jake hisses through clenched teeth.

“D-dad. I-I can explain.” you stutter, throat so tight you can barely speak.

Jake pulls his head back, eyelids blinking furiously. It’s as if the scent quite literally hit him, square in the jaw. With his suspicions confirmed, his lips stretch into a thin line, his go to expression of disapproval. The type that makes your ears lay flat against your skull, and bottom lip jut out.

“I can smell him on you.” Jake brushes past you. “Stay with your brother.”

“Dad, please.” your voice is strained, fighting against the lump in your throat. “Where are you going?”

He stops dead in his tracks, back still turned to you, a hand flying up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. “To Tonowari, kid. Tsireya will teach you from now on.” He heaves a heavy sigh and walks away.

The anxiety quickly morphs into anger, bubbling in your veins and sizzling your skin. Your short fuse blows. How could he take this away from you? You weren’t a ‘kid’ anymore. You had passed your iknimaya back home, and you’re on the brink of passing it here, too. Despite that, he always treats you like this, like the late bloomer you are. He didn’t even care to know what really happened.

“Not a fucking kid!” you shout after him, only for him to shake his head and continue walking.

“Sis.” Neteyam mutters, gently guiding you into the marui pod by your arm.

You shrug him off, storming past him to dive into your bed, burying your face into your pillow – damp from last night’s tears. It only becomes wetter as your fresh tears stream down your face. You couldn’t help it, you cried whenever you felt overwhelmed with anything. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Frustration.

The sound of your privacy curtain being drawn back snaps your head up from your pillow. It’s Neteyam, standing over you with a face of concern, a bowl of steamed fish in one hand and a cup of water in the other. He sighs quietly, crouching down to come eye to eye with you. “You were in heat, weren’t you?” He states, already knowing the answer. “You should eat and drink something.” He places the bowl and cup on the floor next to you.

You sit up, supporting your torso with your arms behind your back. Neteyam. The older, caring bother, always looking out for everyone but himself. Of course, he would be the one to care enough to find out what you’ve been through the past day. “Yup. Late bloomer finally got her heat.” you speak of yourself harshly, taking the cup of water and chugging it.

“You smell gross.” he chuckles breathily, nudging the bowl of fish closer to you.

“Thanks, big brother. Appreciate it.” you giggle between cries, nudging it back to him. “Not hungry.”

His arms rest on his knees, braids swaying in his face as he looks behind him before dropping his head. “Agh.” he lifts his head, staring at you for a few seconds, as if he were contemplating something. “You should not have done that. Not before your iknimaya.”

“I didn’t! Nothing... like that happened, Tey. Ralak isn’t like that.” your head hangs low as you utter the words. “He’s... a gentle giant.”

Neteyam scoffs, straightening his spine. “Gentle giant? He looks like he eats na’vi for breakfast.”

“Hey –” you sniffle, glaring up at him, “I like him, Tey. A lot. He’s good for me.”

Neteyam’s features soften. As if hearing your words plucked a string of sympathy in his heart. As much as he wants to help you, he can’t. Not with a direct order from his father. He shakes his head, eyes closed, and brows furrowed.

That’s his way of saying, ‘Sorry. Can’t’.

You sigh, bringing your knees to your chest to hide your face. You can smell Ralak’s scent now that your nose is near your thighs. It fills your lungs with every breath you take. His pheromones. His aphrodisiac. His arousal. He left it all on you, rubbed into your skin so deep it seems to have altered your own scent.

Is this what scenting does?  

Soon you’re breathing heavily, trying to savour what left you have of him – of last night. It makes you heavy in the head, like all the strength has left your body. You feel your face warm up, the heat spreading to the tips of your ears. You’re tired. Defeated.

“Neteyam! Neteyam!” Lo’ak’s faint voice sounds frantic.

You hear Neteyam shuffling to his feet to go and check what his brother is on about. “Stay here, got it?”

“Mhm.” you hum, too tired to even lift your head.

The sound of Lo’ak yanking back your privacy curtain makes you jump out of your skin, nearly knocking over the bowl of steamed fish. You stare up at him wide eyed, to see him motioning over to the door of your marui. Your brows kiss in confusion, unsure of what’s going on.

“Heard you were in... hea-a situation. Just gonna borrow big bro for a second, cool?” he raises his brows, nudging his head towards the door in an emphasized manner.

A smile pulls at your lips once you realize what he’s doing for you. You wipe your puffy eyes with the back of your hand and shuffle to your feet. “I owe you, Lo’.”

Ralak’s POV

Ralak rouses to an empty bed. He sits up quickly, scanning his marui for any sign of you. Nothing. The only thing that remains is your potent scent flooding the room. The only proof that you were ever here. “Oh, y/n.” he groans, head slumping into his hands.

You were gone. Gone like you were never here to begin with. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he tried not to assume the worst. But what if – what if it was the worst? To be used and discarded like an object. All over again. Surely, there’s no way that you would do this to him, not after opening-up to you like that. Not after last night. Not after the words you uttered to one another before going to sleep –

‘I love you’.

But why does it feel the same? The same as that day. The day he was in a marui pod like this one, young, bare skinned and short haired, kneeling before his own karyu. His chest tightens, the walls of his throat closing in on one another. He can feel it creeping up his spine. The flashbacks. The tremors. The nausea. Rushing to his feet, he makes his way over to the shelf well-stocked with bottles of ‘fermented fruit’ – pxir [beer; alcohol].

A poison to many, but an antidote to him.

Dust had settled on the bottles since the last day he reached for them. The day you became his tanhì. That’s why he had never brought you up here, he never wanted you to see the truth. The way he copes with his emotions – bottling them up and then chugging it down when they became just too much.

The bottle opens with a pop, strong, bitter scent wafting up his nose, replacing the scent of you in his lungs. He takes a quick swig, baring his teeth from the sting of it trickling down his throat. “Ahh.” He sighs a breath of relief, feeling the alcohol already taking effect, loosening his chest, and clearing his throat.  

Yet he can still feel the shiver of his spine, and the churn of his stomach.

“Shit.” he curses, taking another swig. Cursing himself for trusting another after he made the vow to never trust again. Another swig. For facing the part of him that he’s denied since he came into adulthood. Another swig. For letting someone in. Another swig. For allowing himself to love you.

Alas, a clear mind and body – rid of the memories of his past.

He readies himself for his bath, something he often did to relax. Just like he did last time you left him.

----

Time is of the essence. With no idea of when Jake will be back, you move quickly. You weave through the webbing of the mangrove roots, ducking and dodging those that jut out. You take a short cut, bouncing over the netting of a cluster of marui pods on the way to Ralak’s.

Eyes guardedly stuck to your feet, you bump into Ka’ani, the man who replaced Ralak’s role as fisherman – faceplanting into his bare chest. Arms instinctively wrapping around you, he holds you close until you regain your balance. Admittedly, he’s a little too close for comfort, his face nestled in the crown of your head. You hear quick, nasally breaths, muffled by your hair.

Is he... sniffing me right now?

You shove him off you, probably a little too rough to be considered friendly, and take a few steps back. “Sorry, Ka’ani.” you mutter, gingerly walking around him.

“No problem, at all.” he smirks, raising his hands and making space for you to leave.   

With a quick shake of your head, you continue making your way to Ralak. The closer you get, the more a giddy smile spreads across your face. Though you were the bearer of bad news, you can’t ignore the flutters in your stomach. The same flutters you had when you first laid eyes on him – the day Eywa herself told you he’s the one.

Your mate.

Your legs move faster, as fast as they can go, until the sand slackens your steps. Silky, fine sand – always the first thing to let you know that you’ve arrived. You can’t help the excitement bubbling from your tummy and up your throat. “Ralak!” you blurt out, eager to find your love.

A tall figure in the distance catches your eye, it looks as if he were going into the cave. You wave your hands above your head, shouting his name as you lope towards him. “Ralak!”

The figure stops, turning around to acknowledge your calls. He stands still for a minute, before walking towards you with a stagger in his step. Tail perking up instantaneously, your hand flies to your bare hip, searching for your medicine pouch. You’re running on the tips of your toes again, concern and worry replacing the flutters low in your belly.

“Wha-t is it?” you shout, voice wavering as you close the distance between your bodies.

You crash into him with a smack, making the typically sturdy giant wobble. Now your ears art alert, perturbed by his odd behaviour. Gently pushing you away, his large hands grip your upper arms, fingertips touching once another. Blue, hazed orbs peer down at you, extra glossy and lidded.

“Are you sick? Wounded?” you question, resisting his gentle pushes to search his body. 

Nostrils flickering above his pursed lips, he leans into your neck. He pulls back with a huff, blowing hot air through his nose, onto your face. Your eyelashes flutter, face of concern quickly morphing into one of confusion.

Everyone is sniffing me today.

Head snapping to the left, his eyes search the webs of the mangrove roots off in the distance. A guttural growl rumbles deep in Ralak’s chest, thinned lips curling over his canines, flashing them before your eyes. You watch in awe as his brows lower, knotting together to turn his eyes beady. Ears flat against his skull, the scent of another na’vi scrunches his nose.

That’s a new look.

“Ralak.” your voice is breathy and small – laced with fright.

His growl grows louder, coming from the pit of his stomach, deep and powerful. Lengthy fingers tightening around your arms, he spins you around and tucks you behind him in one swift move. His name slips off your tongue once more, quick, and unsure. He has one hand perched on the dip of your waist, holding you close behind this towering frame.

“Come out.” he growls gruffly, straightening his spine to present at his full height.

The two words double-knot your stomach, sending you wiggling into the sink of his back, face peeking through the crack of his arm and side. Your eyes flicker from side to side, looking for whatever – whoever he’s talking to. Meanwhile, your fingers grip the band on his loincloth, the only thing available on his body to hold.

Silence.

“Or I make you.” He rasps the warning through his four, pointed fangs.

Perhaps if Ralak wasn’t here the knots in your belly would have tightened by now, to the point where you would feel queasy. But the hiss fizzling from the back of his throat puts your nerves at ease – your body sensing its safety in his presence.

Out comes a brawny, wide na’vi, from behind the large, thick roots of the mangroves. His hands are splayed out, representing something of caution. No – surrender. He approaches Ralak slowly. Warily.

“Sorry, brother. I did not know she was yours.” Ka’ani says impishly.

Jaw snapping open, his hiss comes out full force. It’s loud and thick, almost grating. Much like a roar. Though you knew it wasn’t for you, it shook you up, tugging at the string in your grip as your body jolts forward into his.

“She belongs to no one.” His top lip twitches as he spits the vile words, stinging your heart in the process. Am I not his? What about last night? You think, tightening your grip on the band of his loincloth.

“It looks as if she belongs to you, Tak.” Ka’ani leans to the left, chin jutting out as he tries to catch a glimpse of you. “Look at her, holding on to your –”

“Lewng! [shame]. Tracking her scent.” Ralak hisses, turning his body to hide you from his predatory eyes. “Leave.”

“Ah. Come on now, brot-” He spreads his arms wide, walking around Ralak towards you.

Ralak takes a step forward on his last word, nearly coming chest to chest with the shorter na’vi. A moment of silence passes between the two, as Ralak stares him down with vengeance in his eyes. A hand flies up to his hip, gripping the knife sheathed in its casing. “Now.”

Ka’ani straightens his back, eyes flickering between Ralak and yours that peek from behind him. His hands retract, hovering either side of his head as he retreats. Ralak maintains his position, with a hand keeping you tucked away whilst the other rests on his hip. Once Ka’ani’s figure is no longer visible, Ralak sighs, and turns his heel to make his way back to his much-needed bath.

“Thanks...” you huff, walking close behind him.

“You women and your heats.” he mutters as he walks faster, ripping his loincloth out of your grip.

“Ex-cuse me?” your words bounce as you try to keep up with him. “You have no –”

“Do you understand what would have happened had I not been here? Do not be so reckless.” He tsks, as his feet come to a halt, balling his hands into fists.

“Reckless? All I did was walk here!” you shout, almost bumping into him again.

“Because you left to begin with.” he whispers through clenched teeth.

“What?” the question is breathy, hands perching on your knees to rest.

He turns around quickly, prompting you to stand at full height. Breathing heavily, he presses his warm body against yours, chin tucked into his chest to peer down at you. Instinctively, you perch on the tips of your toes, eyes lidded in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, he brings your wrists up to his nose, heated lips pressing against your supple skin.

“He scented you.” he mumbles quickly, lips pulling into a thin line before letting go and backing away.  

“Why? How? I only bumped into him.” you walk towards him, watching him turn his heel again. “Hey –” you reach out for his arm to pull him back around.

First you leave him this morning, then come back scented by another na’vi. He shrugs you off, hands now fiddling with the knot above the base of his tail as he nears the entrance of the cave. The knot of his loincloth comes undone, heavy, sheathed hunting knife silently making impact with the sand.

“Because he wants everything that’s mine.”

So, I am his. You think, one corner of your mouth curling upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, Ralak.” You stand at the cave’s opening, waiting in silence for a response.

He continues to keep his back turned to you, dips of his clenched glutes on full display. Despite last night, seeing him naked still makes you shy, cheeks turning red and hot from the blood that rushes to them. You watch him hastily put his hair in a sloppy bun as he submerges himself in the water.

“I need to speak with you about this morning” you mumble, eyes locked onto the ripple of his back muscles.

“No need. I understand.” he answers lowly, shimmying over to the bottle of fermented fruit propped on a rock in the cave.

“Understand what? It’s about –”

“You made a mistake. It was your heat. It is fine.” he mutters quickly, taking a swig at the last word.

A mistake? My heat?

The realization hits you, hard. You’d been so out of it, so delirious from your heat you hadn’t given a second thought about his confession. His trauma that he confided in you, in this very cave. It’s like stones in your heart – no, boulders. Weighing it down so heavily that it feels like there’s a pulse in your stomach.

How could you be so cruel? So thoughtless? So insensitive? To not even wake him and utter the words to his face. To allow him to wake up to an empty bed after letting down his walls and being so vulnerable to you. To be so caught up in your own head you couldn’t even bat an eye at the man who helped you through your first heat.

“Oh. Oh, Lak. No. No, it’s nothing like that.” you sputter out a trembling voice, sliding into the water to rush over to him. You rest your hand on his upper back, taking in the warmth of his skin. He feels feverish – hot to the touch.

What is he drinking?

You rub his back gently, bioluminescent freckles dancing from your caresses. Yet, he’s rigid. Cold. Distant. He’s not the Ralak you know, swaying side to side as he brings the lip of the bottle to his mouth.

“Stop, my love.” you coo, sliding your hand up his raised arm as you walk around him.  Pulling the bottle away from his lips, you cautiously place the pxir on a nearby ledge. “Ralak.” you whisper, staring up at him with worried eyes.

The sound of his name falling from your lips tilts his head back ever so slightly, like it pained him to even look at you. Curly, loose stands of hair frame his face, accentuating his angular features. He attempts to fix his mask of indifference to his face, but you can see through it. You see the anguish glossed over his lidded, inebriated eyes.

Ocean blue eyes.  

tw: flashback

His mind is elsewhere, dissociating back to the day of the incident. The night of his iknimaya celebration, where his own karyu cornered him in his family marui, engulfing him with her pheromones. Manipulating him with her heat to take care of her. To touch her.

He can hear the waves crashing into the shore, the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof of the marui, the roll of the thunder – her whispers in his ear, ‘I’ve been waiting too long for this. You are officially a man now. Make your karyu feel better, right here...’.

The smell of her pheromones is suffocating, more potent than any fermented fruit he’s ever had. It frightened him, feeling like he had no self-control. No way to stop his movements, no matter how much he screamed at his body to move, run – anything.

It is what made him vow to never lose control of himself. His composure.

He can feel the heaviness of his body. The lethargy. The way his lungs refused to fill, no matter how hard he tried to breathe. When he woke, he was alone, sitting in the corner in a pool of his own sweat, curled in on himself. His karyu left, to never return. Leaving nothing but the lingering smell of her heated scent behind. 

tw: end of flashback

“My karyu” you hum softly, placing his hand on your chest.

When you first called him that, he almost grimaced. But as time passed, you made the word bearable. You gave it a new meaning, a new feeling. Eventually filling him with eagerness to hear it fall from your flushed lips. In tones of excitement, frustration... pleasure.

You hold his thumb, and give it a squeeze, trying to bring him back from wherever he is. Your heart weighed even heavier, seeing him drift away and detach when he’s right in front of you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Feel me. Feel my heartbeat. Focus on it and come back to me.”

The words echo in his skull, reverberating between the thick bone. He can hear you, feel you. With each thump of your heart, the heaviness of his body lifts, the scent of her fades, the pitter-patter of the storm subdues until nothing, but that thump can be heard. His eyes finally flicker down to yours, ears and brows twitching at the pulse of your heart.

Only a bottle could do that for him. Bring him back. Yet, you did it with the mere sound of your heart.

“I’m sorry, Lak. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was so thoughtless. I’m sorry... that happened to you.” the words are shaky, flowing over your quivering bottom lip. “I would never. Ever. Ever. Ever –” you blubber, shaking your head, “Ever, do that to you. I-I had to leave because of my father. He’s punishing me. Forbidding me from seeing you. Having Tsireya teach me instead. I should have woken you.”

Another arm snakes around his waist, bringing him in closer to you. You slump your head into his chest, letting the tears flow and stain his skin. “I don’t regret a thing. I meant everything I said. I-I see you, Ralak” you sputter, breath hitching from the crying.

“Tanhì” he croaks, kissing the crown of your head as he wraps his arms around you to hold you closer.   

“I love you” The three words are said in unison as you cling onto one another.

Alcohol still coursing through his veins, Ralak’s heavy body slumps into you, slowly shifting you both against the cave wall. He presses your back against the rocky surface, unwrapping his arms from your waist to support his body weight with a hand on the wall. He leans in, brushing his cheek against yours.

“I will miss you.” he whispers huskily next to the shell of your ear.

“I’ll miss you, too.” you whisper back, head pulling back to meet his gaze.

Your eyes lock for a moment, an undeniable tension now budding in the air and making your breaths quicken. He inches even closer, lips brushing against yours as you exchange the same hot breath until you’re light in the head.

He kisses you roughly – sloppily.

Tongue slipping into your mouth, you get a taste of what he’s been drinking all day. It’s a little sweet, with undertones of various fruits native to the reef people. But once the sweetness wears off, the bitter aftertaste makes your brows gather. He pulls away, revealing heavy-lidded eyes with thin blue rings for irises, flickering side to side as they stare into yours.

Chests heaving in synchrony, you both struggle to catch your breath. Hands cupping each other’s face, your lips crash into one another again, body language hungry and desperate for each other’s touch. Ralak shoves his knee between your legs, providing you with the friction your body has been begging for. Your body moves on its own, humping at his thigh as best you can in the water.

“I-I want... you.” The desperate words part your bruised, flushed lips, hand sliding up his back to caress his kuru [queue].

He shakes his head, brows gathering tightly. “Not now. Not here. We do it the right way.”

“Then...” you pant, voice laced with desperation as your hands make their way to his hips, dainty fingers wrapping around his hardened girth, “...give me something else.”

Breath turning raggedy, he struggles to maintain his composure. The influence of the alcohol surging through his body proves it to be an even more difficult task. He takes a deep breath, withdrawing his knee from your legs to spin you around in one quick motion. Ralak tries his best to be gentle with you, shoving you into the wall to press his aching cock against you.

A soft moan parts your lips; thin, fuzzy tail wrapping around his thigh in attempts to bring you closer. Eywa, did that push him closer to the edge. Your tail had been one of his favourite things about you from the day you first locked eyes, so slender and delicate. Nothing like his. It not only fascinated him. It aroused him.

It makes him push into you even harder, tip of his cock throbbing against your lower back. He craves to be even closer to you – to be inside you. To rut into you until your voice becomes so hoarse from screaming his name. Over and over. Again, and again. Fingers hurriedly fiddling with the knot of your loincloth, he pants a few greedy, rough kisses along your upper back.

“Oh! Ralak, I-I think –” you moan lowly, his touches throwing you into a daze.

“What?” he huffs, fingers coming to a halt in fear that he’s being too rough with you.

“I think I’m still in heat.” you lie, or maybe it wasn’t a lie. You feel so woozy in the head that you’re not even sure what’s going on anymore. All that sits at the forefront of your mind is him claiming you as his.

“Is that so?” he lets out a breath of relief, a chuckle if you will.

“Yes. Can you help me?” you pant, trembling voice feigned with innocence.

“Ah. Let me check, little one.” He buries his face into the nape of your neck, pulling back with a loud sigh through his nose. A growl rumbles in his chest and up his throat. “I can still smell him.” The scent of another so deep into your skin makes him want to mark you. To sink his lengthy canines into your neck for the smell to seep out, only to be replaced by his.

“Then fix it.” you breathe, head dipping forward to open yourself up to him.

“Oh?” he smiles open mouthed, brushing his pointed fangs against your silken skin, making your back arch on instinct. Submitting to him and his touch. Open mouth lingering over your neck, his jaw closes to graze his teeth against you. He sucks lightly on your skin, puckered lips pulling off with a pop.

Of course, he’d make you wait for that too. He was only ‘helping’ you, right now.  

He kicks your feet apart, spreading your legs for him to settle in closer behind you. A string of your slick connects your thighs together, breaking apart when he rubs his cock against your bare cunt. He begins rubbing his face into the back of your neck, scenting you as his.

“Mine. Yes?” he growls, thrusting himself against your slippery slit.   

“Yes.” You spread your legs further apart, standing on the tips of your toes to provide him with better access. “Please.” You let out a pathetic mewl.

He grunts in frustration. He wants nothing more than to thrust himself inside you, stretching your pussy out with his huge cock. And with those little, sweet pleas, it’s almost too hard to resist. But he does. He pulls away, gaze snapping down to the rope of wetness connecting your most intimate parts together.

Cocking a brow, his hand comes between your sticky pelvises, fingers coiling around the string of slick before they glide over your pussy and spread your folds. Your wetness drips down his digits, pooling in the palm of his hand. “So wet. Maybe you are in heat.” he mumbles, pressing his lips against your back, peppering kisses down the curve of your shoulder.  

Ralak fondles with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles into it with his slickened fingertips. Your hips squirm around from the white-hot pleasure tightening your core. It’s just not enough. Perhaps it’s just residual heat, but you feel so, so empty. A yearning deep in your womb, to be filled and stretched. Your hips buck forward, slipping his fingertips to prod at your entrance, before pushing back on him to try and sink them inside you.

Needy body language riling up the giant behind you, his harsh kisses move their way up to your ear. “Say it, tanhì.” he groans lowly, positioning his finger at your tight hole.

“I n-need you inside of me!” you cry desperately, shoving yourself back into him.

“You listen so well, paysyul.” he exhales a hot breath into the shell of your ear, sinking his thick finger inside you, twisting his wrist so that he can curl it right into your sweet spot.

“Oh, shit.” you moan breathily, cheek pressed firmly against the rocky wall.

“That is why you learn so quickly.” He fingers you roughly, expertly working out a squelch with each curl of his digit.

The feeling is like heat, shooting down your spine and pooling in your pelvis. It makes your hips spasm, chasing the fiery sensation in hopes to put it out. His finger brings relieve, satiating the itch as your sweet spot swells from pure bliss. He knows exactly where to touch, and how to touch.

Yet, it still isn’t enough.

“More! ‘ts not enough!” you cry, writhing underneath him.

He finds your little cries amusing, letting a chuckle evade his lips. How could something so small act so mighty? He slides another digit in, feeling your tight pussy walls stretch to accommodate him. He hears the little whimper bubbling up your throat, letting him know you need a moment to adjust.

“Taking my fingers so well, hm?” he praises you with a shaky voice, planting a gentle kiss behind your ear.

“Mmmn! Please!” Another plea falls from your lips, a plea for him to move – to make you cum. He sets a relentless pace, stimulating the sensitive spot in your gummy, hot walls, working lengthy moans and mewls from you.

With the way he’s fingerfucking you, it feels as if your nerves are on fire. The coil tightly wound in your core ready to snap any second now. Your brows pinch together in fervour, mouth falling open to allow heavy, hot breaths to escape.

“Close! So close! Gonna! Gonna –” Your words catch in your throat, leaving you breathless and tense around his fingers.

“Make yourself cum.” he orders gruffly, stopping all movement once he feels you tighten around his digits.

You gasp, hips moving on their own to chase the orgasm he just took away from you. “No, no. You know I can’t. Please.” you sputter, pushing against the wall to ride his fingers.

“You can. And you will.” he growls, bending his fingers as encouragement.

You quickly accept your fate, holding on tightly to whatever pleasurable feeling remains and running with it. You push back on him, squirming around as you try to make yourself cum. Closing your eyes, you tune into your body, feeling what feels good and where. But the position that you’re in makes it even harder to do it yourself.

“Just fuck me!” you cry desperately, frustration so pent up you couldn’t help the outburst.

“Language.” he hisses, shoving his fingers so deep inside you that your slick coats his knuckles.

“Fuck! Please.” you beg, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.

“No.” he smirks, looking down at how your cunt sucks in his digits, listening to your pleading and begging.

He just wants to hear a little more. To hear how badly you want him. He loves the way you squirm around, sputtering nonsense from being so fucked out by just his fingers. He loves the little noises your pussy makes for him and can’t wait to hear how they’ll sound once his cock is stuffed inside you.

“Ralak. Please. Please make me cum!” you cry, using his wrist as leverage to fuck back into him.

He slides his hand down your stomach, fingers playing with your swollen, neglected clit. He’s pumping his digits in and out of your dripping cunt, feeling your slick dribble down his hand. It doesn’t take long for you to near your climax, pussy walls clamping down around his fingers.

“Let go. Cum for me.” he groans, swollen tip of his cock oozing beads of precum onto your lower back.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck!” you let out a hoarse cry, entire body shuddering underneath him “Cumming! Cumming!”

“That’s my girl.” he hums proudly, scissoring his fingers open to stretch you out.  

You let out a high-pitched whimper, hint of pain making your eyes water. Then a wave of ecstasy ripples through you, leaving your legs trembling beneath you. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you up while you ride out of your high, sprinkling your shoulder with kisses.

Once you come down from your high, you lean back into him, resting your head against his chest. Huffing and puffing, you try to catch your breath as you turn around to cup his swollen balls. “My turn to make you feel good.”

To your surprise, he rests a hand on your arm, pulling it away from him. He looks down at you through blown pupils, arousal plastered all over his face. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples, wet strands of curled hair stuck to his cheeks, he sighs the words. “Not today, tanhi. I must get you back, now.”